You could hear a pin drop in the total silence that dominated the room. The blue masked Blade Master always talked too much, but it's better if he just talks, his other favourite activity results in too much blood and gore. His mask's absence, or his presence here without his "colleagues" isn't important, the only thing I need to focus on is getting out of here.
I always hated "that" title.
"Sensei, you must be joking. He can't be the Inquisitor. He doesn't look anything like-" voiced the youth in the hakama with short spiky hair and a pair of short swords.
"That's right, there is no way he can be the Inquisitor." another youth with a staff and a bald head interjects.
I return to reviewing the status of my body. It's not the worst my body has experienced, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm still in critical condition, "disabled", and surrounded by enemies. The most pressing concern is still the sword lodged in me. I'm not sure when or from where the next attack will come from, I can't stop being vigilant just because everything is calm right now.
I lost trust in everyone and everything a long time ago.
With a quick motion I grab the pommel of the huge slab of metal, that shouldn't be called sword, and rip it out of me. As the sword falls to the marble with a clang, every eye returns to me.
My left lung isn't in a state where I can heal it, so no need to waste mana trying to repair it, I'll have to rebuild it from scratch later. But if I don't get rid of the lung's remains they'll rot inside of me, causing inflammation in the best case, and death in the worst. I could spend a huge amount of energy to recycle the remains like last time, but that's not an option right now. Plunging my hand into the stab wound that spans the length of my shoulder to my stomach, I rip out as much of the remains as I can. The grotesque pieces fall from my hands onto the ground with a wet slapping sound.
An overwhelming desire to break the bolt stuck in my neck finally wins out, but as always, I'm really "lucky". The arrows they fired weren't just enchanted, but also made of steel. I rip the bolt out from the direction it was travelling before it got stuck in me. As I pull the bolt out, the fletching scrapes through the wound, making it even larger than before. With a bit of mana I stop the bleeding, and with a deep cough I clear my windpipe, which should increase the amount and speed at which I can inhale oxygen.
I return to breathing and circulating mana, which should help a bit with the reconnecting of the arteries that I closed to stop the bleeding. I feel the wounds closing, but it's still too damn slow for the current situation.
"Calm down friend. No one will attack you anymore." says my old acquaintance. He may say that, but it's not his decision. Many of the guards' eyes jump between me and the pieces of my lung laying next to the dead body of their colleague.
"This is not your decision Blade Master. He killed the personal attendant of Her Highness in the throne room. There will be consequences." says an old man in a grey robe from the right side of the throne.
"If he really is the "Inquisitor", then we have an international issue here. As the representative of the Empire, is there anything you would like to say Councilor?"
Looking at the person to the left of the throne, the horrendous situation finally sinks in. Red clothes, that should've been obvious. The Empire always sends their representatives to other kingdoms, but for one to be a councilor to the King.
FUCK.
He can't say that there's an open hunt on me publicly, it'll raise many questions, which they can't answer. Like why I'm hunted, what I did, or who made the official request, but he will try his best to get me killed and my head sent to Protus.
"Well, "Councilor"? says the amused voice from the throne.
With a smile he could barely hold back he faces the throne and began. "As you know your highness, we had a small problem with the Zeron fanatics for the past decade, we tried our best to help them and "clean" their ranks, but to our greatest regret, a few perpetrators were able to slip away." Bowing slightly he continues. "We humbly ask for an apology for the damage our shortcomings have caused. The Sun Empire would be eternally grateful if you would implement capital punishment against this fanatic for his crime against the Empire and your great kingdom."
God FUCKING damn it. He actually did it.
Someone could say that I'm the one who was attacked, and that it's fucked up that I somehow ended up as the bad guy, but as soon as you understand how those in power think, and how they work, things start to make sense.
Laws, fairness, justice, right, wrong, never existed.
That what will benefit those in power will become the law and "culture".
You need self-sacrificing soldiers? Make the people genuinely believe that it's the greatest honour to die for your country.
Need to weaken the nation? Destroy that which holds it together. Education, customs, traditions, and especially children, the future of the nation. Corrupt them, make them weak, gullible, and the nation will crumble by itself within a generation.
If I die here-
[DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE! We! Are! Not! Dead! Not dead! NOT FUCKING YET!]
It would be great if I got some help from the person who brought me here, but she's petrified while looking at me, from behind the shields of several guards. She has seen me in similar states before, so my appearance shouldn't be the reason. It may be because we are in the throne room, and her shyness overwhelmed her, but by her previous eccentric behaviour it could be ruled out.
It's hard to predict what will happen next. I should prepare for the worst.
People always needed scary stories, and because of that they created monsters. They morph simple wild animals into grotesque demons with huge claws and fangs, with a hundred lives and sizes vastly disproportionate to reality.
I did a lot of stuff, I won't deny that. I deserve the title, I deserve the scorn and hate. But at some point the "Inquisitor" somehow became something much more sinister and evil than Lucifer himself. People started piling on crimes that I didn't commit, morphing me into a creature of nightmares. And all those images blended together, contradicting one another, but still somehow maintaining its shape.
Maybe it was just easy to find one "object", a scapegoat of sorts, to blame all of the problems in the world on. The Blood Brotherhood and Blood Legion were just that. They were publicly blamed for all the mistakes, errors, and failures, just so they could clean the whole organisation of the dark and evil past.
It doesn't matter if it's a lie.
If you repeat it enough, it'll become reality.
My opinion didn't matter then, and it doesn't now.
I didn't heal my body, just made sure I could move. But now that my body is more or less ready for action I can start healing. But if I start ripping the bolts out, the people around me will instantly react, so for now it's better to keep them there while healing all the internal wounds and preparing for the moment they act.
The people used the last dozen seconds of silence to digest the fact that the Inquisitor isn't just "publicly" on the list of "dangerous" fanatics, but the Sun Empire would be grateful for his death. Everyone visibly tensed, even my old acquaintance became silent. The tense atmosphere was cut by the voice of the old man in grey clothes on the right side of the throne.
"Princess, did you bring this person here for a reason?" All eyes turned to Olana. She visibly paled and started breathing heavier. After another few seconds the voice from the throne broke the silence.
"Olana." She visibly shuddered while slowly turning in the direction of the throne. The slow pace of events is good for me, more time to heal, but I'm not sure how I can slow it down even more.
"Y-Yes father." she squeezed out.
"Where are your personal guards?"
She visibly swallowed. "T-They...they..died." she responded while looking down.
"Why did you bring the 'Inquisitor'?"
"I-I didn't know! I thought that he was just a Blood Brother, I thought he could help us with finding Melania! Using him we can finally reach Uncle Yorgan! With him we can find Melania, she could still be alive! We still can, if we-"
"Enough."
A dozen seconds of silence followed.
"Olana." the Queen whispers. Taking Olana's hands in her own she looks at Olana while she quivers. She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it slowly. The Queen tries again several times, but fails each time.
"Yorgan died." the King says.
"What?"
"How?" Olana says in a hoarse voice.
"Quite some time ago. He died nobly in battle against Pkar Shamans from the Lort-thol Continent." says the King.
"We couldn't tell you." the Queen whsipers to Olana.
"I travelled to the Empire and Qing for nothing. They died for nothing." whispers Olana in a half-daze as she falls on her knees repeating "Sorry" again and again.
The room's attention is taken by the sound of laughter, deep, sinister, unhinged. I couldn't understand where it was coming from, until I noticed my chest rising and falling. Oh. I'm the one who's laughing. All the attention returned to me.
"Is that what they told you?" I say in a barely recognisable voice. "Noble battle? Against who? Pkar Shamans? Those overgrown magic orcs?" The room continued to fill with my unstoppable laughter.
"Pkar killed Yorgan? HA! Fucking Pkar! They couldn't leave a scratch on him."
It doesn't look like they'll let me walk away. If this world wants to burn so much then I will make sure that they have the biggest pyre.
"Did the Empire's emissary tell you that?" I say, looking directly at the Councilor on the throne's left hand side. "If Yorgan really died a 'noble death' in battle as the Empire says then they wouldn't mind telling you where his body is buried."
In the silent confusion everyone turns to the Councilor.
He doesn't know.
He can't know.
He's just a small chess piece, nothing more. He may have even genuinely believed that information too. But you pissed on the wrong tree, and because of your green and desire for recognition from the next Legat, I'll take you down with me.
"Stop it friend." the Blade Master says. "I know you guys were close, but don't." he finished, while looking at me with pleading eyes.
[If Yorgan really had noble or even royal blood in him, with just a few words from us, we could start a war. But who cares? The continent will be in flames one way or another.]
My attention is focused on a sudden movement in my vision. The Queen slowly walks towards me and stops a few meters from where I'm pinned.
"My brother...Yorgan...please." she pleades with me. "...tell me....please."
Looking closer, I find too many features resembling Yorgan. From the many stories Yorgan told me about himself a name, I thought I had long forgotten, leaves my mouth.
"Twinkle."
Her eyes open wide, after which a smile breaks across her face, as tears stream down her face.
"Yes." she squeezes through the smile and tears.
You know what? FUCK IT.
"We knew too much. Him even more so." As I think of what I can say, the words stop in my throat. I realise that no one can, not just believe, but understand the whole truth.
"We were sent on a suicide mission, few survived........... There were meant to be no survivors. During an official meeting we were stabbed in the back."
Her face slowly morphs from confusion to disbelief.
"Tvaar poison" I state shortly.
The previous emotions quickly change from disbelief to horror. From horror to realisation, and finally from realisation to anger and hate.
"Your Majesty, this is a farce. This person is spewing ridiculous lies to save his life. We are not even sure if he's the real one."
This idiot. That could've worked if at the start you didn't confirm that it's me and you want me dead.
Tvaar is an anti-magic poison, made most likely of the same ingredient as my anti-magic bombs, mana devourers from the Dead Continent. Only a few even have enough information to theorise about it. But people know of only one place where Tvaar comes from, the same location as anti-magical bombs, the Empire.
Turning back to the Queen, I finish what I wanted to say.
"I buried him in Andaral. At the place where you got your name."
Her mask of rage falls apart as her knees hit the floor and she starts sobbing. As her sobs fill the room, with my eyes I take a quick look around, to once more calculate the situation.
As if cold water was poured over me, I think over what I just said. I can't see the King's face from here, bur I don't think that even if he believed me he would tarnish his relationship with the Empire, more likely he would use it as an exchange piece for a better deal.
What happened doesn't matter, what will happen does.
Who the fuck cares about the past.
[Just you.]
Not good. I think I stalled as much as I could, but as the attention is back on me, they can react or take action any second.
[Oh? But didn't someone want to die here and leave this shell for HIM? What's with the mood swings? Decide on something and fucking stick to it!]
Taking the deepest and quietest breath I can, with a quick motion of both my hands I wrench the bolts out of my legs and make the fastest leap I can behind one of the columns on the left side of the hall. The moment I reach the column, sounds of the bolts crashing into the walls sweeps through the hall. A stinging sensation returns to the position where my left ling should be, and looking down I find a fresh bolt sticking out of the left side of my chest. Maybe one of the curses really got stuck on me. Somehow too much bad "stuff" happens to my left lung and the area around it.
I pull out the meter long steel bolt and do the same with the rest. As I prepared enough mana beforehand there wasn't much bleeding, and the wounds started to close. Shouts to regroup and take action sounded from the leaders. But I need to move as they'll flank me in a few moments. I don't have any protection from anti-magic spells anymore, even though spells may take some time to cast I have even less, and they'll reach me before that.
I will live. Even if it's for one more day.
Not yet. NOT FUCKING YET.
Gathering mana in my legs I make a leap to the next column, closer to the entrance where I came from. As I land behind another column another hail of bolts shreds the column and pieces of it crumble, crashing to the ground. The sound of something crashing in the direction of the entrance brings a sense of horror to me. Peeking with one eye from behind the column, I could see the entrance was closed.
GOD FUCKING DAMN IT.
The sound of metal boots clanging against the marble floor came closer. SHIT. Enforcers, Mages, and skilled archers working together in sync with bad terrain is usually a sure path to doom and a quick death. Looking around for another exit isn't possible right now.
Wait.
Where does the light in this hall come from? Looking up, I find huge colourful windows starting from about fifteen meters high and reaching the ceiling.
"If you can't move horizontally, move vertically." I quickly climb the column using my palms, thankfully strength returned to my hands. With rapid movements I quickly reach a high point, but a sudden chill on my back makes me turn and look to my left I find archers with their crossbows already pointing in my direction.
FUCK.
Sending all the energy I can into my legs, I leap in the direction of the glass windows filled with colourful pictures. Halfway through, two burning sensations on my stomach and leg tells me that something hit me. But it doesn't matter, I'll be much safer as soon as I reach the other side.
The window was much thicker than I thought, at least five centimeters in thickness. As soon as the window glass breaks under my velocity and momentum, an explosion's shock wave and heat hits my back and sends me even further, as I catch a glimpse of yellow fire spell exploding at the location I was at a fraction of a second before. But that's not the problem. Looking down I find that there's at least a two hundred and fifty meters between me and the ground.
The fucking hall was at the top of the tower!
HOW THE FUCK DID I GET SO HIGH!?
Maybe some kind of illusion?
[FOCUS!]
Fuck, I'm going to splat against the floor if I don't decrease my speed. Ripping the two new arrows out of me, I reorient myself and try to get closer to the tower wall. But I miscalculated and got closer to it too fast and just bounced back after impact. I try to repeat the action again, but this time much slower. Regretfully the ground which is quickly coming closer makes it much harder to stay calm. As soon as I get closer I try to brush against the wall rather than hit it, and succeed in slowing down a bit, but quickly change my mind as some kind of balcony appears on the trajectory I'm travelling, which is somewhere in the middle of the tower wall.
Gathering mana in my legs I jump away from the wall and evade the balcony, after which I repeat the previous action and start sliding down the tower wall again. Thankfully, I finally feel myself slowing down. But soon another pressing issue appears, the location where I will likely land, is filled with guards. Searching around for a better location, I find an area which looks like a moat around the castle. Landing in the water should be better than landing on earth.
Should be.....
I try to calculate and at a specific point send mana into my legs and jump as far away from the tower wall as I can. But I made another error. I'm on the right trajectory, but I'm gathering speed and I'm already falling too fast.
SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT.
Bracing for impact I bundle together. My vision fills with explosions of yellow, red, and white fireworks. Groaning, I find myself on my back in the middle of the moat. I feel nothing, as if my body is paralyzed. But I don't have time. I command my limbs to start moving, to float closer to the shore. Who the FUCK said water is better than ground? I feel as if someone tried to rip me apart, and used just enough strength to keep me in one piece, but at the same time to make it as painful as he possibly could. As soon as I reached the shore I slowly climbed out of the water and collapsed on my back, and took several deep breaths.
I will not repeat that again.
I jerk up, remembering that I'm still being pursued. Looking around I find the shore empty. Am I really that lucky? Or not, the adrenaline finally wears off and I feel as if I weigh a thousand tons. My wounds start bleeding, and the world starts spinning.
Not yet.
They can't track me by my mana, so I may be safe. Wait...my lung is still laying on the hall's floor...do they have anyone who could track me by blood? There shouldn't be any Blood Brothers in the city, but still....
Fuck it. I stand up and start walking south, trying to stay off the main roads as much as I can. With my appearance I may attract too much attention in this quarter. I need to rest first, everything else can wait.
...
I sit in one of the back alleys of the city. The main roads tell a totally different story in comparison to what I see around. The main road buzzes with activity, merchants, carriages, and people. Everyone is moving, everyone has a different face. But one word can describe them all.
Alive.
Happy and sad, serious and carefree.
In contrast to it, the back alleys look like a different world.
Dead eyes.
Most people laying around, doing nothing.
More bones than human.
Luckily, I still have gold from the wyvern. They took all my equipment, but they didn't search me. Who would believe that hobo looking man has a fortune in each boot. I could change the fate of the people in this alley if I want, I don't need that much gold anymore.
[Really? Do you really believe something will change? Money doesn't matter. Even if you give them all the gold you have they'll either drink through it, spend it on bullshit, or get killed for it. Resources are worth nothing if you don't know what to do with them.]
[So lay along with these bums and rest. We can think about escaping the city after that.]
...
Just because I was resting didn't mean I left my guard down. Sending mana into my ears I was able to listen to what people on the main road are saying. Most of it was bullshit and bragging, but I learned a few worth while things in the three hours I spent resting.
First of all, the King has nineteen wives.
Nineteen.
Who the fuck needs nineteen wives? If you have two or three children with each you'll have at least half a hundred offspring. How do you even please nineteen wives? Anyways, it doesn't matter. I made the right decision to run away. I don't think the King would care about the opinion of one of his many wives, even less about one of his too many children.
Second, rumour has it that the Northern Kingdom citizens were "liberated" from their tyrants by Qing and the Empire. This makes no sense, the Northern Kingdom has too many ties to the Empire. It was more of a province than a separate kingdom. Why would Empire even give part of "their" land to Qing.
But there is one point that strengthens that rumour. The two wizards that destroyed Samolesh, one of them should've been from Qing. That fast beam magic was really strange, but it strongly reminded me of the fast and powerful ritualistic light magic from Qing.
Qing started it.
Third, closely connected to the second. The Desert Alliance is no more. All of their cities just fell apart, and the western ones were absorbed by the Caliphate. The Desert Alliance was always sketchy, but because their leadership was so well hidden, I believed them to be nearly undestroyable. Like Hidra, doesn't matter how many cities you destroy, new ones would always appear again.
Things became too chaotic. I was in those cities weeks ago...
I can't be sure of anything anymore.
I need to move.
Standing up I continue walking, I need to get some equipment, food, and water. Who knows if the King has already closed all of the gates.
As I walk by an old man, who's barely more than bones, dressed in filthy brown rags, he stands up and turns to look at me with closed eyes. Before I can do anything he appears before me and squeezes his hand around my neck with titanic strength. Before I can react I'm slammed against the building wall. The eyes of the old man open, and bright white light shines out of them. He opens his mouth, out of which a bright white light comes too, and an ethereal voice comes from his unmoving mouth.
"THE WAR SHALL COME MORTAL. THE FALLEN ONE WILL BE REBORN, AND WITH THAT, WE, THE HEAVENS, SHALL COME DOWN AND CLEAN THE EARTH."
As I gather mana in both of my hands to pry his hands off my neck, the light disappears and the old man turns to ash. I fall down and after several coughs I look at where the old man was, all that's left is a small heap of black ash and a filthy brown rag on top of it. Looking around for any other enemies I start breathing again. After half a minute, I start laughing. Fucking light spirits, even now they haunt me. Angels my ass, nothing more than over-glorified hungry spirits.
The thing is when a person has an affinity, it means much, much more than that. No one will give you mana just because you gave some of your own to them. The gate is open in both directions, and when the other side wants it can send mana and posses the vessel.
What? You thought that someone was sending you their mana just because you asked nicely?
People call it a lot of fancy names, Avatar, Titan of Element, Chosen of Spirits.
I call it slave, vessel, invading module.
And as everyone has several affinities, no one cane be fully possessed, as other spirits will interfere. The bodies just fall apart.
But what if there exists someone who has a single affinity? A perfect vessel just for you.
Of course, no such person exists.
But, there exists one who has no affinity.
A perfect vessel for anyone, all that matters is if you can bind it. But you can't find it, can't track it, can't possess it, as there are, simply, no connections to that vessel. The usual methods don't work, and some went as far as to do something that is against the world itself.
With my hand I trace the red-black scar on the right side of my face.
Everyone wants war, with its start, everyone can enter the game. Everyone wants something, and this is the greatest opportunity they'll ever have.
And my death is the starting signal for this theater play.
The sound of the door opening and sound of shouts fill the empty alley, which returns me back to reality.
"I work day and night, trying to put bread on our table and what do you do? You drink yourself half to death, and leave Clara alone!"
I turn my head to the right and see as a woman slaps a man across his face.
"Trash."
"Are you satisfied? Are you happy? Now give me money for booze." the man, in his late thirties, says as he extends his swaying hand.
"You don't care. As long as you are drunk you're okay with everything?"
"Yeah, I'm okay."
"Why did I even marry you?"
"Because no one else would."
"What? I had dozens of suitors! But I chose you because I was young and stupid!"
"Suitors or clients?"
"So were you! You think I like job? You think I like selling my body? I have to work like this to feed you and Clara!" the woman growled.
"Ahahahaha. Me and Clara? You're doing it for us? If so, tell me when her birthday is? Tell me."
"Clara, huh. When is the last time you spoke with Clara? When is the last time you read her a story? I am a good mother, I love her and I will do anything for her."
"Enough lying, you don't love anyone. You make it look like I'm the bad guy here, but deep down you know the truth. You like this life. You like whoring. You love it. The attention, the things they do to you. You like it when they violently rape you. You even search for men like that. That, is the only thing that makes you happy. Don't lie to yourself. Did you really think that I don't know? Did you really think that I don't know that Clara isn't mine?"
"Yo-"
"Shut up. Just give me the fucking money. I want to forget everything, maybe I'll be lucky enough to die today and leave you to your happy life."
I don't even know what to say.
Everyone and everything is rotten.
Maybe a total cleansing is really needed.
Maybe.
...
After buying everything I need, and a new horse, I left the city that night. Somehow, after the events of the day, I expected a hell of a lot of problems, but nothing happened. The city didn't change at all. I still believed that some kind of trap would be waiting for me at the gates.
But still nothing.
I don't even know what to say.
Well it doesn't matter.
My travel ends in the next city.
South Dungeon.
I heard a story from one of the summoned.
He told me about an evil ring that couldn't be destroyed. A ring that held great power. He told me that it was sought after by everyone, and the only way to destroy it was to throw it into the volcano.
It sounded ridiculous back then, but right now, it doesn't.
South Dungeon is actually an active volcano.
And maybe like in that story, if I cast evil into the blazing inferno, the world will become a better place. I don't know if it will. No one can know that.
Will I even care? I'll be dead by then.
I always thought that there would be another day, a better day, a brighter day. But now, now that I approximately count the time I have left, it doesn't look like it'll be better for anyone.
Continental war, degradation of values, economical and social hell, and it looks like no one cares.
Or maybe I just care too much.
Chapter Sixteen
Table of Contents
Chapter Eighteen
Sunday, July 28, 2019
Friday, July 19, 2019
Another Day - Chapter Sixteen
It would be easier to count the number of people alive than dead. The biggest explosion in the center of the city, which usually is the trading center. But the explosion was just too big. The crater in the center seared away at least twenty meters of soil. Only the corners of the city survived, which are usually slums. There are many people buried under the broken buildings. There are a small number of citizens who are just walking around the city in total silence.
Doing what people usually do in this situation.
A hand is sticking out from under the rubble of a shop that looked to be quite expensive, based on the quality of the crumbled walls and the few items laying around. The hand is covered with gold rings and thick bracelets. A girl in her teens is trying to get them off but fails, as dead bodies are quite rigid, and unclenching a hand takes more strength than one would expect. As if tired of it, the girl takes a broken sword laying near another body off the ground and starts hacking the hand off, with more strength than her thin and malnourished body should have.
After a series of wild and random hacks she sees me in her peripheral vision. She stops and stares into my eyes, after a fraction of a second of hesitation she speeds up. The hand separates from the body with a wet, crunching sound. She picks up the hand and runs away with the hand clutched to her chest.
[Is there anything you want to say? No?]
Eslan, the party's leader, and his team finally catches up to me, while his teammates walk slowly in silent, petrified horror at the state of the city. Many heard about the destruction of cities and horrors of war but when you see it for the first time with you own eyes all the stories look ridiculous in comparison to the reality, a watered down fairy tale. A lot of pretty words could be said, but they're useless wastes of energy. Lip service, nothing more.
"We need to gather as much food as we can." I say as I turn to the party. "The scavengers will collect everything of value too soon. The city is dead, we need to continue travelling."
[This is the point where someone righteous would have started arguing about what is right and what is wrong, or that we should help people. But their own life is always more important.]
Most of the party nods in response.
"How can you say so?! We need to help those people!" Olana exclaims.
[Oh, here we go.]
Some ignore her, some look at her in confusion, few even look away evading direct eye contact. By the command of the party leader they go around preparing or gathering anything useful. The elf and ogre take their friend's body off the horse, and walk away in silence, most likely to bury their friend somewhere. The whole city is a graveyard, but even so, people will always try to bury the ones they care about somewhere nice. Is it for the dead's spirit? Or for themselves? Hard to answer.
Olana looks at the party going on with their tasks in disgust, after which she turns to me with a shocked look and with the usual expression as if she is expecting something of me. As soon as everyone is outside of hearing distance she growls, "Aren't you going to help the people in the city? There are people who need out help. What kind of Blood Brother are you?"
"Do not place your ideals on others, child."
Olana scowls at me and continues to stare in silence. Is this part of her character, or does she believe that staring at people will make them change their opinion? A child in an adults body huh. Sometimes kids must be taught a lesson.
"You know what? You're right. We should help everyone. There are thousands of people buried who may still be alive. We should dig them all out and bury the dead."
Her scowl morphs into a suspicious and uncertain look.
"There will also be plenty of people who need food, clothes, and security. So we should start hunting and helping people. But there's too much to do, so we need to start immediately. We might need to delay our travel but it won't be a problem."
With an expression of realisation she looks blankly in my direction.
"It may take weeks or even months, but that's okay, we never were in a hurry. But we must do even more, lets donate all our savings and help every single person in this city. No, that's not enough, we must help everyone and rebuild the city."
She breaks eye contact.
"What's wrong? Why are you just standing there? Shouldn't we help them? They need our help, look around they're all begging for it. Start digging, hunting, and help them."
"Stop."
"What are you standing around for? Lets go, lets help everyone. They need our help."
"Stop, I got it."
"NO, YOU DIDN'T FUCKING GET IT! LOOK AT ME! You NEVER wanted to help them, you only wanted to satisfy you fucking ego, 'Oh, I saved the people, I helped them, look how good I am.' That is not help."
She tries to shrink down, making her look small, like a child being punished.
"Your life is your own and you can do with it whatever you like, but..."
I stop, this is too much.
[Was that speech addressed to her, or yourself?]
...
Many people from the outside of the city started coming inside, trying to loot whatever was left of the city, but we were already traveling away from the city. The first night after a disaster is unforgettable, the shock fades and the cold realisation sets in, like a drug wearing off. That feeling of sudden clarity is hard to describe, but many have felt it before. Since no one would be able to rest, so we decided to travel as far as we could from the city, and make camp.
Thankfully, the days got longer and even during the evening hours there was enough sunlight to see the path. We actually found a road, as we travelled dried vegetation started appearing around the road, telling us that we were walking in the right direction.
There was less than an hour of sunlight left when we finally stopped and made camp. As the terrain was no longer just sand and rock, the Earth held the warmth from the day and it wasn't as cold as the last few nights. No one wanted to talk, as the subject would return to the events in the city, and therefore the evening was spent in silence, which helped a lot, as there were many predators around. Hunger and desperation can drive animals to attack groups, even as big as ours.
All big cities have a special barrier that keep the animals and monsters away. It's usually located in the center of the city, not because it was placed there, but rather that the city grows around its circular dome of protection. And as soon as it falls, all the predators will rush into the city, as if hypnotized. Samolesh will have a bad night, the barrier is down and whatever guards were left alive wouldn't be able to protect the city, if they even would. And the smell of blood will make things worse.
Samolesh is no more. There are cities around, but they're in the opposite direction of where we are going. Therefore we decided to travel directly to Mozzarel.
Rest is for the dead.
...
The terrain changed to mountainous region, with higher hills, and much bigger slopes. Finally, trees appeared, not the big and pretty ones, but seeing even these bald things is quite a relief. The Dead Desert is called "Dead" for a reason, and seeing life had quite an uplifting effect on our morale.
There were a few attacks from local bandits and predators, but their choices and decisions were quickly proven wrong. Thankfully, they had a bit of food and water, dead don't need them, so we took it upon ourselves to carry that "heavy" burden. At some point, Eslan started asking my opinion on his decisions and plans. I'm not sure what contributed to that, the suddenly quiet behaviour of Olana or my actions during the attacks. Another sword broke during the fight, and as always I had to use whatever I had left, my hands. A sword is clean and fast, with bare hands you get more gore and blood. My body has regained a bit of strength, not as much as it had before, but still much better than my dried-out state in the north. I took a new sword from a dead bandit, but it wouldn't survive for long.
Still, maybe the ogre and elf told Eslan something, but judging by their behaviour it's not likely. They didn't get better after having an "official" funeral for their friend. They themselves look half dead.
Scars don't disappear, they just hurt less with time.
And when enough scars pile up upon your body, you change. Some would say in a good way, some wouldn't.
...
The party stands in horror and awe looking at one of the well-known places of the continent, but with the continent in this state it doesn’t hold much value.
Two skeletons, charred black were stuck in a block of ice, each holding onto a giant sword that was plunged into each other. According to the legends, both belonged to the same race and the same clan, but fought for different sides. A reminder of how pitiful we are in comparison to the Ancients of the Divine Era. It could just be a harsh reminder of the past if the skeletons weren’t about three hundred meters in height. The block of ice has been here for about a thousand years, standing still, affecting the weather of the whole region. Thankfully, this place is surrounded by mountains and the influence of the ancient spell is contained.
It’s a reminder of who fought in the Divine World War, and what kind of spells creatures of the Divine Era used. We’re nothing but ants, and if a continental war broke out, would we be able to stand together like the Ancients did against the horrors from the other continents?
Seeing it for the first time changes people, you suddenly don’t seem as important, as mighty, or as powerful as before.
But we must continue walking.
…
Mozzarel is big, not just a “big city”, but actually BIG. The city was one of the few cities created by the ancients, and represents the scale of construction the Ancients could create. By legends it should have a massive two kilometer tall citadel, which consisted of three-thousand castles, with four tall towers and a central gold castle for the Emperor.
But the Ancient War and time changed a lot, only two towers are still standing, with one barely holding together. The whole city is quite asymmetrical, which by legends was caused by a huge gravitational spell. People have been trying to rebuild the city for a long time, but the methods of constructing structures so solid and tall gave been lost to time. Even now, many buildings are falling apart, and the only thing people can do is hide the damage done to the structure with simple decorations and fluff, nothing more.
But even in this damaged state the citadel parts the sky, with its tips invisible over the clouds. The size humongous not only by height but also by scale, and with its radius of twenty-five kilometers it looks like a city of the gods. Still, this mega city is only able to exist because of the infrastructure that was left behind by the Ancients, a huge water and canalization system, constant streams of goods and products from all directions, and underground gardens. If even one of the chains is broken, the city will fall, and people are trying their best to ensure that doesn’t happen.
As we get closer to the city, the two-hundred meter tall wall makes sure that no one forgets their insignificance before it. There wall weren’t built, but created. There are no bricks, the earth was moved and compressed after which it was enchanted, or at least I think so, other alternatives are just too unrealistic. Sadly, the most “unrealistic” case is usually the truth.
We’re about half a kilometer from the city wall and main gates, but even from here you can see the huge number of people and caravans gathered before the gate. There was a time long ago when people could simply walk into each of the cities on the continent, with no need to have documents with them, or having to go through security checks. It was a kind of a badge of pride that the security was on such a level that people could feel safe whenever they go.
But times change.
My thoughts are interrupted by a sudden flash of light coming from behind. Turning around I find Olana casting a strange channeling spell into the air that travels over the walls, the spell morphs into several geometric figures while shining in all colours of the rainbow. I bring my horse to a stop, while I look at her. That was a signal, but for what? Is this a trap? No, she’s still near us, she’s not the type to risk her life to…
[Didn’t she nearly die trying to find you? Is that not risking her life?]
She looks at me in total confusion, as if the thing she did was the most natural thing in the world. Within a few seconds a similar spell appears from within the city, and a few seconds after that I can see at least fifty wind Wizards coming in our direction.
“What did you do?” Eslan said with a pale face while his hand reached for the sword on his hip.
Confusion and fear colours the faces of the party.
“Said that I arrived.” She replies, totally innocent as if that’s the most logical thing to do. If this is a trap, even if I try to do something now, I won’t be able to outrun them, and hiding in the city isn’t possible, it’s still too far, so my only option is to wait.
[Wait for what?]
As soon as the Wizards arrive and hover in the air, I curse my luck. Every single one of them has an enchanted crossbow, and they surrounded us on a distance at which I will be dead a second after I move. Without missing a single second a person with extremely rare enchantments on his green clothes and long black hair steps forward and lands in front of Olana.
“Welcome back Princess. We have been anxious over your sudden departure.” He says with a slight bow. Looking through everyone inside the circle he continues, “I fail to see your personal bodyguards, your highness.” She looks away in silence.
Princess,.. God damn it.
[Oh. It’s starting to make sense now. Doesn’t it?]
Suspicion flashes through his face for a fraction of a second. “You will meet your parents immediately. Your friends will be taken care of.” He quickly states.
“Yes Captain!” The wind Wizards instantly replied, preparing to take action.
The next instant Eslan steps forward and takes out a scroll with a red insignia on it.
“Heir of the Tusan royal family requests…um, begs for an audience with His Royal Highness King Yenovaus.” He announces with a loud, strained voice.
Looking at the party leader, the Captain replied with a smile, “Of course.”
He turned and made a strange swirling gesture with two fingers. As if on cue, a strong wind started howling around us, and we were slowly lifted and taken all together with the horses in the direction of the city. The four-legged warm-blooded creatures greatly disliked the method of travel, but their whinnies were ignored, they’re not the only ones dissatisfied with the current state of things. It felt as if we were prisoners being taken to the executioner.
As we were flying with great speed towards the center of the city, everything under us moves quite fast. Houses and buildings, markets and fields, and a lot of people. But still, the citadel in the distance didn’t look as if it was getting any closer. With each minute the number of people and the size of buildings grew in magnitude, it only took several minutes before we were so deep into the city that the walls lost their grandeur, just a thick line on the horizon.
After a few more minutes we crossed a second wall with the same height as the original, and landed near a fort behind it. It was obviously a military complex with a large number of soldiers and horses training and learning military maneuvers. The moment our horse’s feet touch the ground many of them try to throw their riders, after several unsuccessful attempts the creatures still didn’t want to calm down, after which we decided to get off of them as quickly as possible.
As we walk away from the horses, the Captain’s voice reminded us that we have far more pressing problems.
“From here on I would kindly ask you to leave your horses, belongings, and weapons with my subordinates.”
In the center of a military fort it doesn’t really feel like a request at all.
We’re thoroughly checked and searched, the unlucky guy whose task it was to search through my belongings made a disgusted face throughout the whole process. He even refused to look through my satchel and just held it between his thumb and index finger like a piece of trash. In the end all of the collected stuff was gathered and put onto a separate cart.
We started walking through the fort as more and more guards appeared and joined our procession. As we traveled through the fort we finally came to some kind of fortified mansion. A new person in grey robes listened to Eslan, and with a smile invited everyone to follow him.
"He's with me." Olana interjected when the guards wanted to "escort" me together with the party leaving the room.
"He will be washed and dressed first, then he will rejoin you later." The Captain said while looking at me with suspicion.
"No. He will come with me to father." As their gazes drilled into each other, just like how she looked at me during the trip, looks like it's a local "thing".
If she's a princess, her father is most likely, the king. Which is a really bad thing for me, meeting with a ruler is never a good experience. And I'm not sure how I can evade it. Does my opinion even matter right now? The best thing would be to run, but the guards here are professionals, standing at the perfect distance to retaliate to whatever can come from me.
[Isn't this what you wanted? Competency. Pity that the real professionals are always against you.]
"He will not enter the throne room with his...appearance."
I still look like a hobo, some rags in place of clothing, long unkempt hair, bristle that should've been shaved a long time ago. There's no point in painting a house that'll be demolished.
"I believe this is the place where we part.... Princess."
Turning to me with a fierce glare she growls "You promised me. And you will fulfill that promise." Turning back to the Captain she declares in a cold and commanding voice "He will come with me." After a few seconds of staring which she usually used on me, the Captain bends. "As you wish, Princess."
Shit.
We move through many corridors, with each door we pass more and more guards appear, as the corridors become wider and higher each time. Many of them tried to hide it, but the confusion on their faces about the presence of the walking rag was hard to hide. It's not everyday that you see a hobo walk to the throne room.
We finally reached a set if doors which were at least seventy meters high and fifteen wide. Like everything else in this place, structures tend to be colossal, the thematic goal of this place is obvious.
After about a dozen seconds of waiting, the doors open and a person announces "Her Royal Highness Princess Olana Se Madoro and her companion."
As we enter, the only thing that comes to mind is "Colossal". The room is at least a kilometer wide, and four hundred meters high, with hundreds of columns around ten meters in diameter reaching the ceiling.
Colossal.
We start walking forward when I feel a sudden change in the air, something I've felt many times.
Anti-magical area.
They appear in different forms, sometimes it's a magical orb with a limited range of application, sometimes an enchanted room. In most cases the anti-magical area were used as a meeting place for ambassadors or important people.
Anti-magical areas don't suck out the ambient mana or a person's internal mana, but rather constantly emit random amounts of different mana around. This causes an area of chaotic movement of mana, in which casting a spell is near impossible. People describe it as "trying to stand on water." This is one of the ancient technologies which people still try to replicate, but fail in all possible cases, and the existing ones are the ones that survived from the Ancient Era. But the presence of one in a throne room..... This is extremely rare.
If everyone is affected by it how can they defend themselves? The answer is found quickly, all the Enforcers and Mages are standing a specific distance from the main path to the throne behind the columns. Area of effect? No. I notice that the floor I'm standing on has a slightly different tone. They tried their best to hide it, to keep it in the same style, colour, and tone, but it's hard to replicate the effect of time.
Enchanted floor? Well, this is something new...
As we continue to walk I finally look at the throne that's elevated at least fifty meters from the ground, with a long staircase leading to it. And if someone wants to look at the person on the throne he will have to bend his neck to see them.
[Looking up at the gods? Or looking down at the ants?]
Both.
There are several people standing on each side of the throne. We come to a stop at a specific distance from the throne, right in the center of the room, most likely the area of maximum effect. One wrong move and hundreds of enchanted bolts and spells will pierce us in a fraction of a second.
Not us. Me.
I think in this moment we should bow, hitting our temples on the marble floor to show "respect".
"Father I found-"
Before Olana could finish, a quick series of footsteps came from the right as a woman, in a beautiful long green dress with encrusted gems, came and clutched Olana in a hug. About a meter away from the woman stood several extremely dangerous guards in green platemail, the metal was unknown to me, and the number of enchantments on each of them was staggering. Just one piece of their equipment would be enough to support a mid-sized city for a year. A few seconds of silence are followed by wet and muffled sobs echoing throughout the room.
"I'm sorry mom, but I had to.." whispers Olana.
After about a dozen seconds of sobbing Olana continues "Mom, now we can find him. I-"
All the guards are looking at the pair, except one, who I finally notice. His concentrated gaze and furrowed brows visible through the open-faced helmet remind me of someone, but I just can place them. Red hair isn't that rare, but...
His image ripples as I feel something titanically heavy, burning hot and at the same time freezing cold crash into my left shoulder and stop when it reaches the bottom of my left lung. His image ripples again, and for a fraction of a second I saw a person with a great sword burrowed deep into my torso, which after another ripple instantly returned to the same image of a guard standing, but with an impassive stone face. Before I can register or understand what happened, I see an image of hundreds of enchanted bolts being fired in my direction and the sound of something crashing into the area around me. Meter long bolts are all around me, most of them embedded into the stone floor, some went through me before that. My body is shredded and I feel as if I entered the world of pain.
Darkness clouded my eyesight, and some kind of buzzing in my ears is all I can sense except pain. I send internal mana around my body to evaluate the state I'm in. The damage is big, just too damn big. There is nearly no organ left undamaged. I'm not even sure how the bolts missed my head, or my heart and didn't kill me instantly.
[Enough whining. Start moving. Don't you dare die right now. Don't even dream of resting yet!]
I can't die now, not yet, not like this. I send all the mana available not to heal, but rather to make my body move as fast as I can. I'm still in battle. Shit always happens in the worst possible situation, why wouldn't it happen when I'm surrounded by the most skilled enemies possible.
With force I open my eyes, but the image is still blurred, ears are no better, shouts and screams tell me that the situation is still critical. I'm not even sure how I can still hear and see. As my hearing slowly restores I hear a familiar voice.
"NO!!!" Olana screams behind the guards with raised shields with her mother next to her.
"He's already dead, step aside Princess." Replies a new, rather deep voice.
"No! He's a Blood Brother, I brought him to-" shouted Olana.
I somehow turn my neck, filled with perforations from the bolts, towards the direction of the new voice and see a three meter tall giant with grey skin wearing blueish platemail with a helmet with horns in his hand.
"It doesn't matter, he-" the new voice stops as soon as he sees me looking in his direction. Horror instantly visible on his face as he unsheathes his giant sword and points it at me. Several guards reload their crossbows and point them at me too.
After a few attempts of getting up, I realise that I'm nailed to the floor. I need to take action but my muscles won't move. Just mana isn't enough, I need oxygen, and with a destroyed lung it's quite a hard task. WHAT THE FUCK did my left lung do to deserve being constantly crushed? To gather air I need time, and that is something I am always low on. I hear fast footsteps as more guards arrive, their metal boots clanging against the marble floor.
Shit.
"Wow, a zombie." One of the youths in a full grey hakama standing near the next batch of guards says. What the fuck is a young Qing sword student doing here? I thought-
[Forget it! Survive first.]
I return to healing and thinking about the possible ways to get out of the current situation. A person in a blue kimono with a white flowers painted on it walks slowly to the front of the group and bows in the direction of the throne while holding his right hand to his heart.
"Sensei, is it true that if you rip out a zombies heart, it will continue to move?" the first youths says while looking at his teacher.
The person in the blue kimono narrows his gaze for a few seconds and then his eyes shoot open. He puts his left palm over his right fist and slightly bows in my direction. In the same instant all of his students fall silent.
"It has been quite a while my friend." says the man "I never expected to meet you here."
"Wh-" starts the giant, but is interrupted by another voice.
"Do you know this thing Narotetsu?" the cold and commanding voice coming from the direction of the throne in full volume.
"Yes, Your Highness. He's... an old friend." replied the man. After a few seconds of silence the king continued.
"And why did your friend attack my wife's guard? And even more, in my throne room." The man looks at something on the floor in front of me. When I turn my neck and look in the same direction I find the rippling guard laying in a pool of his own blood, with his skull cracked open like an egg. He continues to look at the body with narrowed eyes for a few seconds.
"Nakai."
"Yes, Sensei!"
"Bring me the guard's arm-guard."
"Yes, Sensei!"
One of the youths walks to the body, stealing glances at me as he walks. After a few unsuccessful tries the youth finally takes off the arm-guard, but as soon as he does several stones fall out of it. The youth picks them up and brings them to the man. The giant's eyes open wide as soon as he sees the stones. The man takes the arm-guard in his right hand and looks at it for several seconds, while he plays with the stones in hes left hand in total silence.
"I am waiting Narotetsu." says the voice with apparent dissatisfaction.
"This, your highness, is quite a rare illusionist tool, a rather sophisticated one to boot."
"What does it being an illusionist tool have to do with it?" a voice from the left side of the throne, someone in a red coat interjects. "And you didn't answer His Highness's question."
"As I wanted to say, before you interrupted me counselor, this tool is really rare, I would even go as far to say that there are only a few on the continent. And only a few people know how to use it. And judging by the quality of the item and the skill required to use it, the only person who could, would be the personal attendant of Her Royal Highness, a Lanas." finished the man in a kimono while looking at the counselor.
"We have a peace treaty with the Sarshi Caliphate. And I see no reason that we can't hire someone from the Lanas family. But you still haven't answered the question, swordsman, and our patience is running low." growled the man in the red coat.
"Well you see, my friend has quite a history with Lanas family. To be frank, that's an understatement. They have such a deep.... discontent with each other, to such a level that they nearly erased each other from the face of the Earth. And I assume, that was Keroni Lanas, the youngest of this generation. And by the sword still plunged into my friend's chest, I assume the young Lanas tried to get revenge using one of his illusions in the middle of the throne room. He tried, but as you see, he failed."
After a few seconds of silence the counselor continued. "Does your friend have a name, or should we just refer to him as 'your friend'."
"I'm not sure if it would be right of me to say it here, but we can continue the discussion in private after you help him. It doesn't look like he has much left."
"Speak." the voice from the throne growled angrily.
"As you wish, Your Highness. He has several, and not the best ones. But I believe the one he is mostly known as is 'Inquisitor'."
An utter silence fell upon the throne room. One of the guards with a crossbow directly in front of me started to shake visibly, and after a fraction of a second the crossbow in his hand fired, but my hand had already moved by instinct, and with my palm I swatted the bolt away like a fly. It crashed into one of the columns behind me with a loud clang.
Now I remember, he was one of the Blade Masters that took part in the Qing purge, the talkative one with the blue mask.
Chapter Fifteen
Table of Contents
Chapter Seventeen
Doing what people usually do in this situation.
A hand is sticking out from under the rubble of a shop that looked to be quite expensive, based on the quality of the crumbled walls and the few items laying around. The hand is covered with gold rings and thick bracelets. A girl in her teens is trying to get them off but fails, as dead bodies are quite rigid, and unclenching a hand takes more strength than one would expect. As if tired of it, the girl takes a broken sword laying near another body off the ground and starts hacking the hand off, with more strength than her thin and malnourished body should have.
After a series of wild and random hacks she sees me in her peripheral vision. She stops and stares into my eyes, after a fraction of a second of hesitation she speeds up. The hand separates from the body with a wet, crunching sound. She picks up the hand and runs away with the hand clutched to her chest.
[Is there anything you want to say? No?]
Eslan, the party's leader, and his team finally catches up to me, while his teammates walk slowly in silent, petrified horror at the state of the city. Many heard about the destruction of cities and horrors of war but when you see it for the first time with you own eyes all the stories look ridiculous in comparison to the reality, a watered down fairy tale. A lot of pretty words could be said, but they're useless wastes of energy. Lip service, nothing more.
"We need to gather as much food as we can." I say as I turn to the party. "The scavengers will collect everything of value too soon. The city is dead, we need to continue travelling."
[This is the point where someone righteous would have started arguing about what is right and what is wrong, or that we should help people. But their own life is always more important.]
Most of the party nods in response.
"How can you say so?! We need to help those people!" Olana exclaims.
[Oh, here we go.]
Some ignore her, some look at her in confusion, few even look away evading direct eye contact. By the command of the party leader they go around preparing or gathering anything useful. The elf and ogre take their friend's body off the horse, and walk away in silence, most likely to bury their friend somewhere. The whole city is a graveyard, but even so, people will always try to bury the ones they care about somewhere nice. Is it for the dead's spirit? Or for themselves? Hard to answer.
Olana looks at the party going on with their tasks in disgust, after which she turns to me with a shocked look and with the usual expression as if she is expecting something of me. As soon as everyone is outside of hearing distance she growls, "Aren't you going to help the people in the city? There are people who need out help. What kind of Blood Brother are you?"
"Do not place your ideals on others, child."
Olana scowls at me and continues to stare in silence. Is this part of her character, or does she believe that staring at people will make them change their opinion? A child in an adults body huh. Sometimes kids must be taught a lesson.
"You know what? You're right. We should help everyone. There are thousands of people buried who may still be alive. We should dig them all out and bury the dead."
Her scowl morphs into a suspicious and uncertain look.
"There will also be plenty of people who need food, clothes, and security. So we should start hunting and helping people. But there's too much to do, so we need to start immediately. We might need to delay our travel but it won't be a problem."
With an expression of realisation she looks blankly in my direction.
"It may take weeks or even months, but that's okay, we never were in a hurry. But we must do even more, lets donate all our savings and help every single person in this city. No, that's not enough, we must help everyone and rebuild the city."
She breaks eye contact.
"What's wrong? Why are you just standing there? Shouldn't we help them? They need our help, look around they're all begging for it. Start digging, hunting, and help them."
"Stop."
"What are you standing around for? Lets go, lets help everyone. They need our help."
"Stop, I got it."
"NO, YOU DIDN'T FUCKING GET IT! LOOK AT ME! You NEVER wanted to help them, you only wanted to satisfy you fucking ego, 'Oh, I saved the people, I helped them, look how good I am.' That is not help."
She tries to shrink down, making her look small, like a child being punished.
"Your life is your own and you can do with it whatever you like, but..."
I stop, this is too much.
[Was that speech addressed to her, or yourself?]
...
Many people from the outside of the city started coming inside, trying to loot whatever was left of the city, but we were already traveling away from the city. The first night after a disaster is unforgettable, the shock fades and the cold realisation sets in, like a drug wearing off. That feeling of sudden clarity is hard to describe, but many have felt it before. Since no one would be able to rest, so we decided to travel as far as we could from the city, and make camp.
Thankfully, the days got longer and even during the evening hours there was enough sunlight to see the path. We actually found a road, as we travelled dried vegetation started appearing around the road, telling us that we were walking in the right direction.
There was less than an hour of sunlight left when we finally stopped and made camp. As the terrain was no longer just sand and rock, the Earth held the warmth from the day and it wasn't as cold as the last few nights. No one wanted to talk, as the subject would return to the events in the city, and therefore the evening was spent in silence, which helped a lot, as there were many predators around. Hunger and desperation can drive animals to attack groups, even as big as ours.
All big cities have a special barrier that keep the animals and monsters away. It's usually located in the center of the city, not because it was placed there, but rather that the city grows around its circular dome of protection. And as soon as it falls, all the predators will rush into the city, as if hypnotized. Samolesh will have a bad night, the barrier is down and whatever guards were left alive wouldn't be able to protect the city, if they even would. And the smell of blood will make things worse.
Samolesh is no more. There are cities around, but they're in the opposite direction of where we are going. Therefore we decided to travel directly to Mozzarel.
Rest is for the dead.
...
The terrain changed to mountainous region, with higher hills, and much bigger slopes. Finally, trees appeared, not the big and pretty ones, but seeing even these bald things is quite a relief. The Dead Desert is called "Dead" for a reason, and seeing life had quite an uplifting effect on our morale.
There were a few attacks from local bandits and predators, but their choices and decisions were quickly proven wrong. Thankfully, they had a bit of food and water, dead don't need them, so we took it upon ourselves to carry that "heavy" burden. At some point, Eslan started asking my opinion on his decisions and plans. I'm not sure what contributed to that, the suddenly quiet behaviour of Olana or my actions during the attacks. Another sword broke during the fight, and as always I had to use whatever I had left, my hands. A sword is clean and fast, with bare hands you get more gore and blood. My body has regained a bit of strength, not as much as it had before, but still much better than my dried-out state in the north. I took a new sword from a dead bandit, but it wouldn't survive for long.
Still, maybe the ogre and elf told Eslan something, but judging by their behaviour it's not likely. They didn't get better after having an "official" funeral for their friend. They themselves look half dead.
Scars don't disappear, they just hurt less with time.
And when enough scars pile up upon your body, you change. Some would say in a good way, some wouldn't.
...
The party stands in horror and awe looking at one of the well-known places of the continent, but with the continent in this state it doesn’t hold much value.
Two skeletons, charred black were stuck in a block of ice, each holding onto a giant sword that was plunged into each other. According to the legends, both belonged to the same race and the same clan, but fought for different sides. A reminder of how pitiful we are in comparison to the Ancients of the Divine Era. It could just be a harsh reminder of the past if the skeletons weren’t about three hundred meters in height. The block of ice has been here for about a thousand years, standing still, affecting the weather of the whole region. Thankfully, this place is surrounded by mountains and the influence of the ancient spell is contained.
It’s a reminder of who fought in the Divine World War, and what kind of spells creatures of the Divine Era used. We’re nothing but ants, and if a continental war broke out, would we be able to stand together like the Ancients did against the horrors from the other continents?
Seeing it for the first time changes people, you suddenly don’t seem as important, as mighty, or as powerful as before.
But we must continue walking.
…
Mozzarel is big, not just a “big city”, but actually BIG. The city was one of the few cities created by the ancients, and represents the scale of construction the Ancients could create. By legends it should have a massive two kilometer tall citadel, which consisted of three-thousand castles, with four tall towers and a central gold castle for the Emperor.
But the Ancient War and time changed a lot, only two towers are still standing, with one barely holding together. The whole city is quite asymmetrical, which by legends was caused by a huge gravitational spell. People have been trying to rebuild the city for a long time, but the methods of constructing structures so solid and tall gave been lost to time. Even now, many buildings are falling apart, and the only thing people can do is hide the damage done to the structure with simple decorations and fluff, nothing more.
But even in this damaged state the citadel parts the sky, with its tips invisible over the clouds. The size humongous not only by height but also by scale, and with its radius of twenty-five kilometers it looks like a city of the gods. Still, this mega city is only able to exist because of the infrastructure that was left behind by the Ancients, a huge water and canalization system, constant streams of goods and products from all directions, and underground gardens. If even one of the chains is broken, the city will fall, and people are trying their best to ensure that doesn’t happen.
As we get closer to the city, the two-hundred meter tall wall makes sure that no one forgets their insignificance before it. There wall weren’t built, but created. There are no bricks, the earth was moved and compressed after which it was enchanted, or at least I think so, other alternatives are just too unrealistic. Sadly, the most “unrealistic” case is usually the truth.
We’re about half a kilometer from the city wall and main gates, but even from here you can see the huge number of people and caravans gathered before the gate. There was a time long ago when people could simply walk into each of the cities on the continent, with no need to have documents with them, or having to go through security checks. It was a kind of a badge of pride that the security was on such a level that people could feel safe whenever they go.
But times change.
My thoughts are interrupted by a sudden flash of light coming from behind. Turning around I find Olana casting a strange channeling spell into the air that travels over the walls, the spell morphs into several geometric figures while shining in all colours of the rainbow. I bring my horse to a stop, while I look at her. That was a signal, but for what? Is this a trap? No, she’s still near us, she’s not the type to risk her life to…
[Didn’t she nearly die trying to find you? Is that not risking her life?]
She looks at me in total confusion, as if the thing she did was the most natural thing in the world. Within a few seconds a similar spell appears from within the city, and a few seconds after that I can see at least fifty wind Wizards coming in our direction.
“What did you do?” Eslan said with a pale face while his hand reached for the sword on his hip.
Confusion and fear colours the faces of the party.
“Said that I arrived.” She replies, totally innocent as if that’s the most logical thing to do. If this is a trap, even if I try to do something now, I won’t be able to outrun them, and hiding in the city isn’t possible, it’s still too far, so my only option is to wait.
[Wait for what?]
As soon as the Wizards arrive and hover in the air, I curse my luck. Every single one of them has an enchanted crossbow, and they surrounded us on a distance at which I will be dead a second after I move. Without missing a single second a person with extremely rare enchantments on his green clothes and long black hair steps forward and lands in front of Olana.
“Welcome back Princess. We have been anxious over your sudden departure.” He says with a slight bow. Looking through everyone inside the circle he continues, “I fail to see your personal bodyguards, your highness.” She looks away in silence.
Princess,.. God damn it.
[Oh. It’s starting to make sense now. Doesn’t it?]
Suspicion flashes through his face for a fraction of a second. “You will meet your parents immediately. Your friends will be taken care of.” He quickly states.
“Yes Captain!” The wind Wizards instantly replied, preparing to take action.
The next instant Eslan steps forward and takes out a scroll with a red insignia on it.
“Heir of the Tusan royal family requests…um, begs for an audience with His Royal Highness King Yenovaus.” He announces with a loud, strained voice.
Looking at the party leader, the Captain replied with a smile, “Of course.”
He turned and made a strange swirling gesture with two fingers. As if on cue, a strong wind started howling around us, and we were slowly lifted and taken all together with the horses in the direction of the city. The four-legged warm-blooded creatures greatly disliked the method of travel, but their whinnies were ignored, they’re not the only ones dissatisfied with the current state of things. It felt as if we were prisoners being taken to the executioner.
As we were flying with great speed towards the center of the city, everything under us moves quite fast. Houses and buildings, markets and fields, and a lot of people. But still, the citadel in the distance didn’t look as if it was getting any closer. With each minute the number of people and the size of buildings grew in magnitude, it only took several minutes before we were so deep into the city that the walls lost their grandeur, just a thick line on the horizon.
After a few more minutes we crossed a second wall with the same height as the original, and landed near a fort behind it. It was obviously a military complex with a large number of soldiers and horses training and learning military maneuvers. The moment our horse’s feet touch the ground many of them try to throw their riders, after several unsuccessful attempts the creatures still didn’t want to calm down, after which we decided to get off of them as quickly as possible.
As we walk away from the horses, the Captain’s voice reminded us that we have far more pressing problems.
“From here on I would kindly ask you to leave your horses, belongings, and weapons with my subordinates.”
In the center of a military fort it doesn’t really feel like a request at all.
We’re thoroughly checked and searched, the unlucky guy whose task it was to search through my belongings made a disgusted face throughout the whole process. He even refused to look through my satchel and just held it between his thumb and index finger like a piece of trash. In the end all of the collected stuff was gathered and put onto a separate cart.
We started walking through the fort as more and more guards appeared and joined our procession. As we traveled through the fort we finally came to some kind of fortified mansion. A new person in grey robes listened to Eslan, and with a smile invited everyone to follow him.
"He's with me." Olana interjected when the guards wanted to "escort" me together with the party leaving the room.
"He will be washed and dressed first, then he will rejoin you later." The Captain said while looking at me with suspicion.
"No. He will come with me to father." As their gazes drilled into each other, just like how she looked at me during the trip, looks like it's a local "thing".
If she's a princess, her father is most likely, the king. Which is a really bad thing for me, meeting with a ruler is never a good experience. And I'm not sure how I can evade it. Does my opinion even matter right now? The best thing would be to run, but the guards here are professionals, standing at the perfect distance to retaliate to whatever can come from me.
[Isn't this what you wanted? Competency. Pity that the real professionals are always against you.]
"He will not enter the throne room with his...appearance."
I still look like a hobo, some rags in place of clothing, long unkempt hair, bristle that should've been shaved a long time ago. There's no point in painting a house that'll be demolished.
"I believe this is the place where we part.... Princess."
Turning to me with a fierce glare she growls "You promised me. And you will fulfill that promise." Turning back to the Captain she declares in a cold and commanding voice "He will come with me." After a few seconds of staring which she usually used on me, the Captain bends. "As you wish, Princess."
Shit.
We move through many corridors, with each door we pass more and more guards appear, as the corridors become wider and higher each time. Many of them tried to hide it, but the confusion on their faces about the presence of the walking rag was hard to hide. It's not everyday that you see a hobo walk to the throne room.
We finally reached a set if doors which were at least seventy meters high and fifteen wide. Like everything else in this place, structures tend to be colossal, the thematic goal of this place is obvious.
After about a dozen seconds of waiting, the doors open and a person announces "Her Royal Highness Princess Olana Se Madoro and her companion."
As we enter, the only thing that comes to mind is "Colossal". The room is at least a kilometer wide, and four hundred meters high, with hundreds of columns around ten meters in diameter reaching the ceiling.
Colossal.
We start walking forward when I feel a sudden change in the air, something I've felt many times.
Anti-magical area.
They appear in different forms, sometimes it's a magical orb with a limited range of application, sometimes an enchanted room. In most cases the anti-magical area were used as a meeting place for ambassadors or important people.
Anti-magical areas don't suck out the ambient mana or a person's internal mana, but rather constantly emit random amounts of different mana around. This causes an area of chaotic movement of mana, in which casting a spell is near impossible. People describe it as "trying to stand on water." This is one of the ancient technologies which people still try to replicate, but fail in all possible cases, and the existing ones are the ones that survived from the Ancient Era. But the presence of one in a throne room..... This is extremely rare.
If everyone is affected by it how can they defend themselves? The answer is found quickly, all the Enforcers and Mages are standing a specific distance from the main path to the throne behind the columns. Area of effect? No. I notice that the floor I'm standing on has a slightly different tone. They tried their best to hide it, to keep it in the same style, colour, and tone, but it's hard to replicate the effect of time.
Enchanted floor? Well, this is something new...
As we continue to walk I finally look at the throne that's elevated at least fifty meters from the ground, with a long staircase leading to it. And if someone wants to look at the person on the throne he will have to bend his neck to see them.
[Looking up at the gods? Or looking down at the ants?]
Both.
There are several people standing on each side of the throne. We come to a stop at a specific distance from the throne, right in the center of the room, most likely the area of maximum effect. One wrong move and hundreds of enchanted bolts and spells will pierce us in a fraction of a second.
Not us. Me.
I think in this moment we should bow, hitting our temples on the marble floor to show "respect".
"Father I found-"
Before Olana could finish, a quick series of footsteps came from the right as a woman, in a beautiful long green dress with encrusted gems, came and clutched Olana in a hug. About a meter away from the woman stood several extremely dangerous guards in green platemail, the metal was unknown to me, and the number of enchantments on each of them was staggering. Just one piece of their equipment would be enough to support a mid-sized city for a year. A few seconds of silence are followed by wet and muffled sobs echoing throughout the room.
"I'm sorry mom, but I had to.." whispers Olana.
After about a dozen seconds of sobbing Olana continues "Mom, now we can find him. I-"
All the guards are looking at the pair, except one, who I finally notice. His concentrated gaze and furrowed brows visible through the open-faced helmet remind me of someone, but I just can place them. Red hair isn't that rare, but...
His image ripples as I feel something titanically heavy, burning hot and at the same time freezing cold crash into my left shoulder and stop when it reaches the bottom of my left lung. His image ripples again, and for a fraction of a second I saw a person with a great sword burrowed deep into my torso, which after another ripple instantly returned to the same image of a guard standing, but with an impassive stone face. Before I can register or understand what happened, I see an image of hundreds of enchanted bolts being fired in my direction and the sound of something crashing into the area around me. Meter long bolts are all around me, most of them embedded into the stone floor, some went through me before that. My body is shredded and I feel as if I entered the world of pain.
Darkness clouded my eyesight, and some kind of buzzing in my ears is all I can sense except pain. I send internal mana around my body to evaluate the state I'm in. The damage is big, just too damn big. There is nearly no organ left undamaged. I'm not even sure how the bolts missed my head, or my heart and didn't kill me instantly.
[Enough whining. Start moving. Don't you dare die right now. Don't even dream of resting yet!]
I can't die now, not yet, not like this. I send all the mana available not to heal, but rather to make my body move as fast as I can. I'm still in battle. Shit always happens in the worst possible situation, why wouldn't it happen when I'm surrounded by the most skilled enemies possible.
With force I open my eyes, but the image is still blurred, ears are no better, shouts and screams tell me that the situation is still critical. I'm not even sure how I can still hear and see. As my hearing slowly restores I hear a familiar voice.
"NO!!!" Olana screams behind the guards with raised shields with her mother next to her.
"He's already dead, step aside Princess." Replies a new, rather deep voice.
"No! He's a Blood Brother, I brought him to-" shouted Olana.
I somehow turn my neck, filled with perforations from the bolts, towards the direction of the new voice and see a three meter tall giant with grey skin wearing blueish platemail with a helmet with horns in his hand.
"It doesn't matter, he-" the new voice stops as soon as he sees me looking in his direction. Horror instantly visible on his face as he unsheathes his giant sword and points it at me. Several guards reload their crossbows and point them at me too.
After a few attempts of getting up, I realise that I'm nailed to the floor. I need to take action but my muscles won't move. Just mana isn't enough, I need oxygen, and with a destroyed lung it's quite a hard task. WHAT THE FUCK did my left lung do to deserve being constantly crushed? To gather air I need time, and that is something I am always low on. I hear fast footsteps as more guards arrive, their metal boots clanging against the marble floor.
Shit.
"Wow, a zombie." One of the youths in a full grey hakama standing near the next batch of guards says. What the fuck is a young Qing sword student doing here? I thought-
[Forget it! Survive first.]
I return to healing and thinking about the possible ways to get out of the current situation. A person in a blue kimono with a white flowers painted on it walks slowly to the front of the group and bows in the direction of the throne while holding his right hand to his heart.
"Sensei, is it true that if you rip out a zombies heart, it will continue to move?" the first youths says while looking at his teacher.
The person in the blue kimono narrows his gaze for a few seconds and then his eyes shoot open. He puts his left palm over his right fist and slightly bows in my direction. In the same instant all of his students fall silent.
"It has been quite a while my friend." says the man "I never expected to meet you here."
"Wh-" starts the giant, but is interrupted by another voice.
"Do you know this thing Narotetsu?" the cold and commanding voice coming from the direction of the throne in full volume.
"Yes, Your Highness. He's... an old friend." replied the man. After a few seconds of silence the king continued.
"And why did your friend attack my wife's guard? And even more, in my throne room." The man looks at something on the floor in front of me. When I turn my neck and look in the same direction I find the rippling guard laying in a pool of his own blood, with his skull cracked open like an egg. He continues to look at the body with narrowed eyes for a few seconds.
"Nakai."
"Yes, Sensei!"
"Bring me the guard's arm-guard."
"Yes, Sensei!"
One of the youths walks to the body, stealing glances at me as he walks. After a few unsuccessful tries the youth finally takes off the arm-guard, but as soon as he does several stones fall out of it. The youth picks them up and brings them to the man. The giant's eyes open wide as soon as he sees the stones. The man takes the arm-guard in his right hand and looks at it for several seconds, while he plays with the stones in hes left hand in total silence.
"I am waiting Narotetsu." says the voice with apparent dissatisfaction.
"This, your highness, is quite a rare illusionist tool, a rather sophisticated one to boot."
"What does it being an illusionist tool have to do with it?" a voice from the left side of the throne, someone in a red coat interjects. "And you didn't answer His Highness's question."
"As I wanted to say, before you interrupted me counselor, this tool is really rare, I would even go as far to say that there are only a few on the continent. And only a few people know how to use it. And judging by the quality of the item and the skill required to use it, the only person who could, would be the personal attendant of Her Royal Highness, a Lanas." finished the man in a kimono while looking at the counselor.
"We have a peace treaty with the Sarshi Caliphate. And I see no reason that we can't hire someone from the Lanas family. But you still haven't answered the question, swordsman, and our patience is running low." growled the man in the red coat.
"Well you see, my friend has quite a history with Lanas family. To be frank, that's an understatement. They have such a deep.... discontent with each other, to such a level that they nearly erased each other from the face of the Earth. And I assume, that was Keroni Lanas, the youngest of this generation. And by the sword still plunged into my friend's chest, I assume the young Lanas tried to get revenge using one of his illusions in the middle of the throne room. He tried, but as you see, he failed."
After a few seconds of silence the counselor continued. "Does your friend have a name, or should we just refer to him as 'your friend'."
"I'm not sure if it would be right of me to say it here, but we can continue the discussion in private after you help him. It doesn't look like he has much left."
"Speak." the voice from the throne growled angrily.
"As you wish, Your Highness. He has several, and not the best ones. But I believe the one he is mostly known as is 'Inquisitor'."
An utter silence fell upon the throne room. One of the guards with a crossbow directly in front of me started to shake visibly, and after a fraction of a second the crossbow in his hand fired, but my hand had already moved by instinct, and with my palm I swatted the bolt away like a fly. It crashed into one of the columns behind me with a loud clang.
Now I remember, he was one of the Blade Masters that took part in the Qing purge, the talkative one with the blue mask.
Chapter Fifteen
Table of Contents
Chapter Seventeen
Monday, July 8, 2019
Another Day - Chapter Fifteen
The party's leader decided that the Wizard and her "slave" would be positioned on the right flank. "Slave" huh, well it doesn't matter. To be frank, I still look like a hobo and there's no point getting new clothes at this point, they would only be temporary anyways. At first they wanted us to be in the front, as bait for a possible attack, but when Olana told their leader that we can travel behind them everyone reached a compromise. Having no desire for someone who you don't trust to guard your back helps.
It looks like Olana became a bit more confident as soon as we weren't alone. A person who would be feeling more like herself in a big group of strangers... I really don't want to think about her stranger behaviour anymore, but this strange detail raises more and more questions, it makes me debate whether or not I made the right decision to travel with her.
She continued to stare at me with expectation, but her actions didn't get her any results. In the game of stubbornness she's strong, but not as strong as I am. Maybe she's used to everything going her way, or she simply believes that a single word or glance from her is enough for the world to bend to her will. After about an hour she started the talk herself.
"Listen, I know that you can't tell me much, but at least tell me your name. We've been traveling together for about two weeks and I still don't know what to call you."
After about ten seconds of silence I answered. "B117."
I should've replied with my real name but somehow, I replied with my Blood Legion ID.
My name.
[Isn't it ironic that you've hid your name for so long, but told it to the mayor of a small, random village. Oh wait, it was a Qaes village. Right, you killed them all didn't you? The first, in nearly a decade to hear your name, and their fate was to die by your hand.]
[Did you want to leave at least your name behind? Hoping it would exist in someones memory?]
"Oh, a code name. Okay, that's progress."
After another hour of silence she continued.
"I'm really sorry, I just want to know how my uncle is. I haven't heard about him in quite some time. I'm not asking for information about something important, like your mission or a secret, or information about someone big like the Blood Hand, Saint Protus, The Bleeding Shadow, or even that psychopath Inquisitor. Please, he's my uncle."
I continue to stare forwards, ignoring the question as if it wasn't asked several times.
"God damn you." She mutter with a scowl.
[Interesting how two of the names she mentioned were actual the same person, the uncle she's asking about.]
Yorgan always excelled at manipulation of blood and hiding in the shadows, but in the end it didn't save him.
Protus. A Saint? If only they knew how far they were from the truth.
I would give up a lot to make him disappear from the face of the Earth, to take him with me to hell, so much could be solved with his death alone, but alas it will never happen. Even if I could somehow bypass his twelve incredibly experienced Enforcers and Wizards bodyguards who constantly stick to him, Protus himself is a totally different story. Even if half the continent gathered together against him alone, they would be but ants before a god. And he wouldn't hesitate for even a faction of a second to take capital action.
His words still echo in my mind from time to time.
"Life itself is violence. All societies and all species exist only because of violence. It's the thing that holds us all together, the universal currency, and all other forms of control or existence derive from it. What stops a stranger from taking your property or life? Tell them to stop? Beg for your life? Pretty words and laws are worth nothing if there is no violence to uphold them. Don't be, even for a fraction of a second, misled by the existence of some peace preaching creatures, who claim to be able to survive with no violence at all, that is only possible because they live in society of violence, even though they don't see or understand it. As soon as you extract them from the said society they cease to exist."
He's not wrong, but he isn't right.
It's not all about violence, or at least I try to believe so.
...
A lady in her mid forties is telling stories to a small child on her lap, who looks around five, things about mana and magic, which are just so utterly, ridiculous. But it pales in comparison to what she is telling about the Blood Brotherhood. The evening chill makes the people bundle together around the fire to warm up. We've crossed the sandy part of the desert, which is really good news. The rocky terrain were in doesn't protect us from the cold wind, and a few burning twigs of dried caricature on a tree don't do a good job of warming us up. And so we all sit and listen to the story.
"...they are feared by all, their brothers the Blood Legion, their masters and simple folk. People don't usually see them, as they hunt during the night. But you can know it's them when you smell the thick scent of blood accompanied by screams. They bathe in the blood of their enemies and become stronger with each battle. But fear not child, they are the darkest creatures of the night, yet they serve the light. They will never hurt the innocent, never come into the houses of the righteous, and never spill the blood of the pure."
I really want to laugh right now. This whole "be good and you won't die" bullshit gets more and more ridiculous with each iteration. Olana keeps stealing glances at me, looking for my reaction to the story. The ogre and elf are silent as they look into the fire. They decided to make a proper burial of their friend in the next city, they wrapped his body in cloth and put it on a horse, but the burning sun has started to take its toll on the body. The freezing night is accompanied by the smell of rotten flesh, to which a few wanted to raise complaints, but didn't.
The story continued, painting the Blood Brothers something akin to demons who consume the blood and can morph into anything they desire, who can kill armies with blood magic. Most of it's bullshit, but there are pieces of truth in it. Every single one of the Blood Brotherhood uses some form of blood magic. There are those who can siphon mana from the blood of enemies, those that turn blood into armour or weapons, those that can manipulate blood as if it's water, and much, much more. But it dependent on affinity, more than people think.
In the most respected books on magic affinity it's described as the combination of the physical body structure, state of the spirit, and the will of the mind. Those books usually talk about the way to find your affinity and accept it as representation of what you are, and what you should be. The only thing scholars talk about in the subject of affinity is the philosophical, spiritual, and abstract stuff. But when you start digging deeper you find more, and the more you gaze into the abyss, the more the abyss gazes into you, literally. According to my finding, the thing people call "affinity" is more of a tunnel to the "soul" of something. In the books, people described that as energy flowing in both directions, where you send internal mana to that "special" soul through a "gate" and receive elemental or arcane mana back.
According to the modern consensus those souls and their mana divide into two basic pillars, elemental and arcane. The elemental pillar divides into four categories, earth, water, wind, and fire. While the arcane divides into energy, matter, spirit, and gravity. There was a time when mages theorized that there is a third pillar, the internal mana pillar, but it was dismissed a long time ago as just a part of the spirit group of the arcane pillar. It's easier to think of it that way, or things get strange and complicated.
It makes absolutely no sense that the mana of one group can transform into the mana of another group which may belong to a totally different pillar. But it is accepted fact and all public theories are built upon it.
The public ones.
Anyways, all the spells that ever existed used a combination or subset of man from those eight groups. Many mages don't know that the elemental pillar actually represents the four states of matter.
Earth for solid.
Water for liquid.
Wind for gas.
Fire for plasma.
Things with the arcane pillar are a bit different, some believed that they represented the laws by which our world is governed. But Wizards don't think about it, they don't need to, they can just feel the "gates". It's as if you're asking how exactly does your body move the way you want, you don't need to understand biology to make your limbs move. You just desire them to. Mighty warriors can reach the pinnacle of physical strength without knowing even a bit of biology, the same is for magic. It just works, and you can feel it, no need for complicated explanations.
When a person tries to perform a spell, he sends his internal mana through the gate, which causes a manifestation of external mana, which would fuel the spell. And depending in the amount you send to each gate a different type of mana is manifested. Wizards spend their lifetimes increasing their affinity, which results in a "wider" gate, with which they can cast more powerful spells.
Every single person has an affinity, even the most rural peasant has, a faint one but still, an affinity.
I am an exception.
I was always an exception, even at the academy.
...
My dad died when I was really young, I don't even remember his face, just his warm smile and the hugs he gave me when we sat on his armchair. Just another death of a soldier in a small feud between local lords, nothing noble, a simple "issue" of ownership over a small patch of earth in the middle of nowhere. Ridiculous, isn't it? A small patch of earth was worth more than he could earn in his entire life, more than his life.
Mother was a seamstress in a small town. She didn't earn much but it was enough to feed us. I spent most of my time either helping her or reading books in a tiny seven square meter room, she called her workshop, which was also our house. The book store owner who lived next door had an agreement with my mother, he would lend books to me for free as long as I didn't damage them, and in return my mother would fix his family's clothes for free. It kept me busy with something that kept me out of my mother's way, and helped me get smarter. She was happy with the way things turned out. Life was hard but simple.
When I was ten I passed the local magic academy's test, which I was encouraged to take by my mother. By the examiner's words my general knowledge and intelligence was "barely passable" to attend their esteemed academy.
"Study, learn, become everything you want to be." Those were my mother's parting words. Mage Academy students lived in the tower, and weren't allowed to see their relatives often.
To become a mage a sharp mind is crucial, and it looked like I had a good one. Every single country needs mages, lots of them, so much so that they even allow a few commoners to study for free, as EVERYTHING is dependent in mana, and I somehow became one of those few. The Mage Tower was really far, and I didn't really want to attend it, but mother's encouragement and happiness when I was accepted changed that. Her smile made me take that step forward.
...
I didn't make any friends in the Tower, as nearly all of the students were nobles and looked down on me. And those few commoners who also attended became lackeys to specific nobles, the ones they were going to server after they leave the academy. I didn't care about that, I just wanted to study, learn, and understand how the world worked. I studied with all I had, if I succeeded I could help and support mother, the only family I had, everything else didn't matter. And the results were good, I was one of the top students in the academy.
Official magic aptitude tests are done twice, once at fifteen and again at eighteen. There is also an unofficial one done by nobles and academies at about twelve, when the magic skills just start to appear, but it's not taken as a serious magic capabilities assessment test. During the first test by the academy I failed to manifest mana. Some of the teachers thought that I was slacking and not making an effort, but the theoretical test results proved them wrong. Next, they thought that I had a minuscule amount of mana and was bad at manipulating inner mana. I also thought that, therefore I spent years taking great efforts to fix that, meditating and circulating mana.
The rare letters I was able to exchange with mother told me that life was hard, but everything was fine. She kept encouraging me to try harder, never give up, and results would come. Communication with the outside world was limited, and it was hard being constantly alone, but hope is a strange thing. I continued my efforts with my inner mana circulation and control with a madness-like obsession, which I had with everything I did.
A few were talking about expelling me for my lack of progress in mana related subjects, but my theoretical knowledge and top results in the tests, not concerning mana, gave me the option of becoming at least a researcher. Still, as everyone was already casting spells, I couldn't even manifest mana.
...
When I was fifteen, I failed again, not being able to manifest even a tiny bit of mana. The Grand Master was furious, and to do a small test he poured his mana into me to observe my inner state, the speed and amount of mana circulating inside of me. He was baffled and told me I had a "catastrophically large" amount of mana and "blade-like" control over it, but there were no gates, the internal mana was trapped in me.
There were a few who were quite interested in me after that, but some were more interested in my blood. They spoke about great magic and spells we could accomplish, but I could feel it in my bones that they saw me as nothing more than a pit of mana. I didn't want to be a mana stone in some random experiment. I needed to protect myself and for that I needed external mana.
Many, even professors, looked at me in disdain, as someone who was mana-less, but they somehow tolerated my existence. The first few months after the official test, I started looking into everything to inner gates. I found something, a hint at least.
There was a legend about an ancient Wizard, or the Titan of Fire as they called him, he didn't have water or earth gates. It was written that because of that he has a stronger connection to the fire and air souls, so strong that he could transform into fire itself, that he became the voice of fire itself. Well, that's what was written after you ignore all the pathos, and the endless praise from the scriptures.
The most logical conclusion I came up with is that there must be some unknown or rare sub-group soul that I have a connection that I have a gate connection with. I spent quite some time looking into all of the possible ones, common, rare, respected, and disdained. Even the most disgraceful and dishonourable one. People have tons of affinities, big and small, I should have at least one.
I didn't.
The only thing I was able to accomplish through the research is that my inner mana was rejected by each group of the two pillars, every single one. But I found something interesting during that research, engineering and physics in enchantments and rituals. That was something I could do even without mana, something I could direct my mind at and if I worked for the academy as an enchanter or researcher I would be under their protection, with no fear for my life or safety.
Most of the important enchantments and ritual books weren't accessible, but the basic ones were. My skills and knowledge rapidly increased.
...
Sometime later I received a short letter from the bookstore owner living next door.
"Your mother died of Frost Vein disease, the house was sold to close her debts and pay for the funeral."
I died that day.
I laid in my bed crying for a week. I was never able to help her, show her the same love she gave me. What was I spending years here for? I was angry at the world, but more so at myself. It was so long since I saw her, and I couldn't even fully remember her face.
Only her voice.
"Everything will be okay sweetie."
"All events have a reason."
"Life always straightens things up son."
"We don't choose the tools, but we choose what we do with them."
So I did the only thing I could, I plunged myself into study. I would do the only thing she ever wanted, for me to succeed. An idea was born in my head and I spent all available time on it, barely sleeping or resting.
Right before the final aptitude test, I showed a design I made to the Grand Master of the Enchantment department, Professor Palonto, who I had a bit more friendly relationship, in hopes of getting a position as an enchantment researcher in the academy.
It was a design of a flying city, fueled and powered purely by residual mana, which was controlled by enchanted "blocks", whose methods of working was not public, but their existence was known. It would levitate powered by several combinations of gravitational magic and would be indestructible and unstoppable. I explained that this city could move around the world, across seas and oceans, through deserts and marshlands, or it could anchor itself to some location. And during that process it could gather ambient mana and change terrain and climate around the whole Earth to an optimise the location.
She called me crazy and rejected my idea as utterly ridiculous and impossible, she said that even the ancient Wizards of the Divine Era couldn't do it, and any attempts were useless wastes of time. When I asked if I can get a position on the research team she said that she thinks my non-standard thinking would be helpful to the academy.
I was happy, believing that I truly succeeded, for first time in my life I started thinking about the future, my future, who I can become, what I can become.
They say that one picture is worth a thousand words.
On the final affinity test when I was again found with absolutely no aptitude for any soul, it wasn't shocking, I kind of already accepted that I would never be able to cast a spell. But when I saw the smile Professor Palonto gave to the arcane Grand Master, which was especially interested in my blood, everything inside of me flipped, as if lightning hit me. The announcement of who would be taken into the research team would have been announced the next day, but I didn't wait for it.
That night, I ran away.
That smile brought clarity to my mind, it was always strange that Professor Palonto never taught anything to me, never gave me hints or direction on where to search the subject I was interested in, but was always friendly and tried to hold me close to herself. My fate had already been decided long before that, an animal fattened for slaughter. That also explained why they kept me around for so long, why they allowed my existence. All the Professors and Grand Masters, every single one of them, they knew.
It all explained why they tolerated my existence in the academy.
I didn't know where to run, or what to do. They would find me in the end, and no one would be able to protect me. Dying in a big ritual would be the best fate I could possibly get. Traveling to another continent could have been an option if the mage academy didn't have connections with everyone and everything, including ports and traveling caravans. But even for that I needed money, which I didn't have.
The only other option was that I needed the protection of someone or something. But what kind of protector could stand against the Mage Academy? Something that inflicts a bone chilling fear, something that even standing against would be pure suicide, something that would take in a no one like me. Standing in the middle of a swamp a few kilometers from the academy, only one idea came to mind. It was an idea to which death or suicide was a better option.
But I still wanted to live, even if it was just for a few more days.
...
The child continued to listen to the story of the woman, but at least the subject changed from Blood Brotherhood to unicorns and dragons. But then it suddenly hit me. Why is there only one child with this group?
Scanning through the group I started to analyse each one. Half a dozen vanguards and archers, obviously well trained ex-guards. Two really shady guys, trying to look normal, but for my trained eyes it's not hard to discern assassins and spies. An old man, who has been guiding along the path. a guide. A woman who has been caressing a child, which fell asleep a few moments ago, a nanny. A child, with perfectly symmetrical features. A noble, no, someone important. Royalty. They're all dressed in simple clothes without attributes, but you can't hide what you really are.
Funny thing.
The reason all nobles look very handsome and beautiful isn't just because that they take better care of themselves. When you're in power, you can choose the best spouses available on the "market". Which means even if you're ugly, stupid, and without any magic talent, you can choose the most beautiful wife with great magic talent, and you can do that for your children too. Which results in beautiful and talented grandchildren. But that's an example of only two generations, what about the royalty, nobles and powerful families which had dozens of generations to continue that process.
It doesn't matter how you started or how you gained power, even if it was the most despicable, dishonourable, pathetic or backstabbing way. In the end, time and power will wash everything away, leaving a fancy fairy tale created to glorify something that didn't even exist in the first place, but which would create a superiority complex for generations to come. And now you have someone, who even in their "hidden" state, can be recognised. Just because their parents were picky with who to have children with. But can you blame the child for that?
[Interesting, how would they react if they knew that you were the one who caused that hell in their city? You killed that child's parents, leaving him an orphan. And because of that all these people had to leave their homes and families in their time of need, and travel to who-knows-where to protect a single child, which isn't even theirs.]
[How do you feel? Should we tell them the truth and have some fun?]
Their dead eyes and tired eyes told me enough.
In a day or two we will reach Samolesh, there's no reason to create problems, and my body can't take take much right now. I just need to hold on for a bit longer.
...
I can see Samolesh, about four kilometers away, standing between two rocky hills, blocking the only path through them. A choke-point. But even from here you can see what's happening in the city, people running around trying to hide from what they believe is the wrath of the gods. The party and Olana are standing in awe as bubbles of fire exploded, appearing in trails through the city, followed by rare purple beams. Half of minute of absolute silence follows.
In the distance I can see a person in red clothes with a staff, who suddenly appeared at least three-hundred and fifty meters above the city. He may appear immobile, but I can see subtle motions of his staff, which end with raised and spread arms.
One of the party members wants to say something, but a flash of light interrupts him and fixes the gazes of everyone on the city. A new bubble of fire appeared in the center of the city, growing tremendously fast, and more destructive than all of the previous spells together. AS it continues growing and covers at least a third of the city. I can see the shock wave traveling in all directions with enormous speed, to which I responded accordingly and prepared to cover my eyes. Everyone else just stands looking at the event in awe. But a few fractions of a second before the shock wave hit, I saw a thin beam crossing the sky with colossal speed.
The shock wave hit us much softer and I expected, but the few yelps I heard told me that not many shared my opinion. When I removed my hand from eyes, the dust and rocks were already settling down, but the party members were grunting and trying to get sand and stone pieces out of their eyes. Oh come on. By the visible shock wave and the dust on the ground you should've expected that.
The city is half-melted with nearly no sound, except the hum after the explosion, the crumbling city, and the coughs of the party. Everyone looked in horror at the city. The clouds in the sky are split apart by a straight line which continues to widen in a perpendicular direction to where I saw the purple beam pass through. You can see the big rocks split apart, causing cracks in the same direction while dark smoke floats out of them.
"What the HELL was that?" Muttered Olana.
What are you talking about? This is what a Wizard battle looks like. You should be able to do something similar to even call yourself a Wizard.
Returning my sight back to the city I catch sight of two falling objects. Trying to focus on one of the objects I quickly find out what it is, or at least who it was. It looks like the purple beam found its target. Well, one of the Wizards is dead. If the other one didn't survive the explosion and heat, we have two dead Wizards and a city, nearly erased from the face of the Earth.
[Isn't it nice when an issue between two people causes the death of thousands? Nothing that we could possibly know, right?]
While the party is in a stupor I start walking back to the horses, it looks like I won't be able to get a decent rest in this city. And the travel should continue, whatever happens. Who knows if anyone survived, and standing her won't solve anything. While I ride towards the half-destroyed city I rethink my feelings about the situation. There must be something wrong with me, thousands died, but I just don't really care.
Is it because of who the residents were? No.
Did they deserve that fate? No.
Then why?
It's said that empathy is the core of being an advanced species, a ticket that proves that the species reached a point where they can be considered a high social structure. What does it say about me if I lost one of those core properties?
[What's wrong? You should be happy, you will see a few more sunsets than them. You were a tiny bit more lucky than the residents of the city.]
I should be happy because they died and I didn't?
[That;s the way people work. They don't look at the grand scheme. People get happy because they have a single piece of bread more than their neighbours, even if they live in total poverty.]
[And we're all simple people, aren't we?]
Chapter Fourteen
Table of Contents
Chapter Sixteen
It looks like Olana became a bit more confident as soon as we weren't alone. A person who would be feeling more like herself in a big group of strangers... I really don't want to think about her stranger behaviour anymore, but this strange detail raises more and more questions, it makes me debate whether or not I made the right decision to travel with her.
She continued to stare at me with expectation, but her actions didn't get her any results. In the game of stubbornness she's strong, but not as strong as I am. Maybe she's used to everything going her way, or she simply believes that a single word or glance from her is enough for the world to bend to her will. After about an hour she started the talk herself.
"Listen, I know that you can't tell me much, but at least tell me your name. We've been traveling together for about two weeks and I still don't know what to call you."
After about ten seconds of silence I answered. "B117."
I should've replied with my real name but somehow, I replied with my Blood Legion ID.
My name.
[Isn't it ironic that you've hid your name for so long, but told it to the mayor of a small, random village. Oh wait, it was a Qaes village. Right, you killed them all didn't you? The first, in nearly a decade to hear your name, and their fate was to die by your hand.]
[Did you want to leave at least your name behind? Hoping it would exist in someones memory?]
"Oh, a code name. Okay, that's progress."
After another hour of silence she continued.
"I'm really sorry, I just want to know how my uncle is. I haven't heard about him in quite some time. I'm not asking for information about something important, like your mission or a secret, or information about someone big like the Blood Hand, Saint Protus, The Bleeding Shadow, or even that psychopath Inquisitor. Please, he's my uncle."
I continue to stare forwards, ignoring the question as if it wasn't asked several times.
"God damn you." She mutter with a scowl.
[Interesting how two of the names she mentioned were actual the same person, the uncle she's asking about.]
Yorgan always excelled at manipulation of blood and hiding in the shadows, but in the end it didn't save him.
Protus. A Saint? If only they knew how far they were from the truth.
I would give up a lot to make him disappear from the face of the Earth, to take him with me to hell, so much could be solved with his death alone, but alas it will never happen. Even if I could somehow bypass his twelve incredibly experienced Enforcers and Wizards bodyguards who constantly stick to him, Protus himself is a totally different story. Even if half the continent gathered together against him alone, they would be but ants before a god. And he wouldn't hesitate for even a faction of a second to take capital action.
His words still echo in my mind from time to time.
"Life itself is violence. All societies and all species exist only because of violence. It's the thing that holds us all together, the universal currency, and all other forms of control or existence derive from it. What stops a stranger from taking your property or life? Tell them to stop? Beg for your life? Pretty words and laws are worth nothing if there is no violence to uphold them. Don't be, even for a fraction of a second, misled by the existence of some peace preaching creatures, who claim to be able to survive with no violence at all, that is only possible because they live in society of violence, even though they don't see or understand it. As soon as you extract them from the said society they cease to exist."
He's not wrong, but he isn't right.
It's not all about violence, or at least I try to believe so.
...
A lady in her mid forties is telling stories to a small child on her lap, who looks around five, things about mana and magic, which are just so utterly, ridiculous. But it pales in comparison to what she is telling about the Blood Brotherhood. The evening chill makes the people bundle together around the fire to warm up. We've crossed the sandy part of the desert, which is really good news. The rocky terrain were in doesn't protect us from the cold wind, and a few burning twigs of dried caricature on a tree don't do a good job of warming us up. And so we all sit and listen to the story.
"...they are feared by all, their brothers the Blood Legion, their masters and simple folk. People don't usually see them, as they hunt during the night. But you can know it's them when you smell the thick scent of blood accompanied by screams. They bathe in the blood of their enemies and become stronger with each battle. But fear not child, they are the darkest creatures of the night, yet they serve the light. They will never hurt the innocent, never come into the houses of the righteous, and never spill the blood of the pure."
I really want to laugh right now. This whole "be good and you won't die" bullshit gets more and more ridiculous with each iteration. Olana keeps stealing glances at me, looking for my reaction to the story. The ogre and elf are silent as they look into the fire. They decided to make a proper burial of their friend in the next city, they wrapped his body in cloth and put it on a horse, but the burning sun has started to take its toll on the body. The freezing night is accompanied by the smell of rotten flesh, to which a few wanted to raise complaints, but didn't.
The story continued, painting the Blood Brothers something akin to demons who consume the blood and can morph into anything they desire, who can kill armies with blood magic. Most of it's bullshit, but there are pieces of truth in it. Every single one of the Blood Brotherhood uses some form of blood magic. There are those who can siphon mana from the blood of enemies, those that turn blood into armour or weapons, those that can manipulate blood as if it's water, and much, much more. But it dependent on affinity, more than people think.
In the most respected books on magic affinity it's described as the combination of the physical body structure, state of the spirit, and the will of the mind. Those books usually talk about the way to find your affinity and accept it as representation of what you are, and what you should be. The only thing scholars talk about in the subject of affinity is the philosophical, spiritual, and abstract stuff. But when you start digging deeper you find more, and the more you gaze into the abyss, the more the abyss gazes into you, literally. According to my finding, the thing people call "affinity" is more of a tunnel to the "soul" of something. In the books, people described that as energy flowing in both directions, where you send internal mana to that "special" soul through a "gate" and receive elemental or arcane mana back.
According to the modern consensus those souls and their mana divide into two basic pillars, elemental and arcane. The elemental pillar divides into four categories, earth, water, wind, and fire. While the arcane divides into energy, matter, spirit, and gravity. There was a time when mages theorized that there is a third pillar, the internal mana pillar, but it was dismissed a long time ago as just a part of the spirit group of the arcane pillar. It's easier to think of it that way, or things get strange and complicated.
It makes absolutely no sense that the mana of one group can transform into the mana of another group which may belong to a totally different pillar. But it is accepted fact and all public theories are built upon it.
The public ones.
Anyways, all the spells that ever existed used a combination or subset of man from those eight groups. Many mages don't know that the elemental pillar actually represents the four states of matter.
Earth for solid.
Water for liquid.
Wind for gas.
Fire for plasma.
Things with the arcane pillar are a bit different, some believed that they represented the laws by which our world is governed. But Wizards don't think about it, they don't need to, they can just feel the "gates". It's as if you're asking how exactly does your body move the way you want, you don't need to understand biology to make your limbs move. You just desire them to. Mighty warriors can reach the pinnacle of physical strength without knowing even a bit of biology, the same is for magic. It just works, and you can feel it, no need for complicated explanations.
When a person tries to perform a spell, he sends his internal mana through the gate, which causes a manifestation of external mana, which would fuel the spell. And depending in the amount you send to each gate a different type of mana is manifested. Wizards spend their lifetimes increasing their affinity, which results in a "wider" gate, with which they can cast more powerful spells.
Every single person has an affinity, even the most rural peasant has, a faint one but still, an affinity.
I am an exception.
I was always an exception, even at the academy.
...
My dad died when I was really young, I don't even remember his face, just his warm smile and the hugs he gave me when we sat on his armchair. Just another death of a soldier in a small feud between local lords, nothing noble, a simple "issue" of ownership over a small patch of earth in the middle of nowhere. Ridiculous, isn't it? A small patch of earth was worth more than he could earn in his entire life, more than his life.
Mother was a seamstress in a small town. She didn't earn much but it was enough to feed us. I spent most of my time either helping her or reading books in a tiny seven square meter room, she called her workshop, which was also our house. The book store owner who lived next door had an agreement with my mother, he would lend books to me for free as long as I didn't damage them, and in return my mother would fix his family's clothes for free. It kept me busy with something that kept me out of my mother's way, and helped me get smarter. She was happy with the way things turned out. Life was hard but simple.
When I was ten I passed the local magic academy's test, which I was encouraged to take by my mother. By the examiner's words my general knowledge and intelligence was "barely passable" to attend their esteemed academy.
"Study, learn, become everything you want to be." Those were my mother's parting words. Mage Academy students lived in the tower, and weren't allowed to see their relatives often.
To become a mage a sharp mind is crucial, and it looked like I had a good one. Every single country needs mages, lots of them, so much so that they even allow a few commoners to study for free, as EVERYTHING is dependent in mana, and I somehow became one of those few. The Mage Tower was really far, and I didn't really want to attend it, but mother's encouragement and happiness when I was accepted changed that. Her smile made me take that step forward.
...
I didn't make any friends in the Tower, as nearly all of the students were nobles and looked down on me. And those few commoners who also attended became lackeys to specific nobles, the ones they were going to server after they leave the academy. I didn't care about that, I just wanted to study, learn, and understand how the world worked. I studied with all I had, if I succeeded I could help and support mother, the only family I had, everything else didn't matter. And the results were good, I was one of the top students in the academy.
Official magic aptitude tests are done twice, once at fifteen and again at eighteen. There is also an unofficial one done by nobles and academies at about twelve, when the magic skills just start to appear, but it's not taken as a serious magic capabilities assessment test. During the first test by the academy I failed to manifest mana. Some of the teachers thought that I was slacking and not making an effort, but the theoretical test results proved them wrong. Next, they thought that I had a minuscule amount of mana and was bad at manipulating inner mana. I also thought that, therefore I spent years taking great efforts to fix that, meditating and circulating mana.
The rare letters I was able to exchange with mother told me that life was hard, but everything was fine. She kept encouraging me to try harder, never give up, and results would come. Communication with the outside world was limited, and it was hard being constantly alone, but hope is a strange thing. I continued my efforts with my inner mana circulation and control with a madness-like obsession, which I had with everything I did.
A few were talking about expelling me for my lack of progress in mana related subjects, but my theoretical knowledge and top results in the tests, not concerning mana, gave me the option of becoming at least a researcher. Still, as everyone was already casting spells, I couldn't even manifest mana.
...
When I was fifteen, I failed again, not being able to manifest even a tiny bit of mana. The Grand Master was furious, and to do a small test he poured his mana into me to observe my inner state, the speed and amount of mana circulating inside of me. He was baffled and told me I had a "catastrophically large" amount of mana and "blade-like" control over it, but there were no gates, the internal mana was trapped in me.
There were a few who were quite interested in me after that, but some were more interested in my blood. They spoke about great magic and spells we could accomplish, but I could feel it in my bones that they saw me as nothing more than a pit of mana. I didn't want to be a mana stone in some random experiment. I needed to protect myself and for that I needed external mana.
Many, even professors, looked at me in disdain, as someone who was mana-less, but they somehow tolerated my existence. The first few months after the official test, I started looking into everything to inner gates. I found something, a hint at least.
There was a legend about an ancient Wizard, or the Titan of Fire as they called him, he didn't have water or earth gates. It was written that because of that he has a stronger connection to the fire and air souls, so strong that he could transform into fire itself, that he became the voice of fire itself. Well, that's what was written after you ignore all the pathos, and the endless praise from the scriptures.
The most logical conclusion I came up with is that there must be some unknown or rare sub-group soul that I have a connection that I have a gate connection with. I spent quite some time looking into all of the possible ones, common, rare, respected, and disdained. Even the most disgraceful and dishonourable one. People have tons of affinities, big and small, I should have at least one.
I didn't.
The only thing I was able to accomplish through the research is that my inner mana was rejected by each group of the two pillars, every single one. But I found something interesting during that research, engineering and physics in enchantments and rituals. That was something I could do even without mana, something I could direct my mind at and if I worked for the academy as an enchanter or researcher I would be under their protection, with no fear for my life or safety.
Most of the important enchantments and ritual books weren't accessible, but the basic ones were. My skills and knowledge rapidly increased.
...
Sometime later I received a short letter from the bookstore owner living next door.
"Your mother died of Frost Vein disease, the house was sold to close her debts and pay for the funeral."
I died that day.
I laid in my bed crying for a week. I was never able to help her, show her the same love she gave me. What was I spending years here for? I was angry at the world, but more so at myself. It was so long since I saw her, and I couldn't even fully remember her face.
Only her voice.
"Everything will be okay sweetie."
"All events have a reason."
"Life always straightens things up son."
"We don't choose the tools, but we choose what we do with them."
So I did the only thing I could, I plunged myself into study. I would do the only thing she ever wanted, for me to succeed. An idea was born in my head and I spent all available time on it, barely sleeping or resting.
Right before the final aptitude test, I showed a design I made to the Grand Master of the Enchantment department, Professor Palonto, who I had a bit more friendly relationship, in hopes of getting a position as an enchantment researcher in the academy.
It was a design of a flying city, fueled and powered purely by residual mana, which was controlled by enchanted "blocks", whose methods of working was not public, but their existence was known. It would levitate powered by several combinations of gravitational magic and would be indestructible and unstoppable. I explained that this city could move around the world, across seas and oceans, through deserts and marshlands, or it could anchor itself to some location. And during that process it could gather ambient mana and change terrain and climate around the whole Earth to an optimise the location.
She called me crazy and rejected my idea as utterly ridiculous and impossible, she said that even the ancient Wizards of the Divine Era couldn't do it, and any attempts were useless wastes of time. When I asked if I can get a position on the research team she said that she thinks my non-standard thinking would be helpful to the academy.
I was happy, believing that I truly succeeded, for first time in my life I started thinking about the future, my future, who I can become, what I can become.
They say that one picture is worth a thousand words.
On the final affinity test when I was again found with absolutely no aptitude for any soul, it wasn't shocking, I kind of already accepted that I would never be able to cast a spell. But when I saw the smile Professor Palonto gave to the arcane Grand Master, which was especially interested in my blood, everything inside of me flipped, as if lightning hit me. The announcement of who would be taken into the research team would have been announced the next day, but I didn't wait for it.
That night, I ran away.
That smile brought clarity to my mind, it was always strange that Professor Palonto never taught anything to me, never gave me hints or direction on where to search the subject I was interested in, but was always friendly and tried to hold me close to herself. My fate had already been decided long before that, an animal fattened for slaughter. That also explained why they kept me around for so long, why they allowed my existence. All the Professors and Grand Masters, every single one of them, they knew.
It all explained why they tolerated my existence in the academy.
I didn't know where to run, or what to do. They would find me in the end, and no one would be able to protect me. Dying in a big ritual would be the best fate I could possibly get. Traveling to another continent could have been an option if the mage academy didn't have connections with everyone and everything, including ports and traveling caravans. But even for that I needed money, which I didn't have.
The only other option was that I needed the protection of someone or something. But what kind of protector could stand against the Mage Academy? Something that inflicts a bone chilling fear, something that even standing against would be pure suicide, something that would take in a no one like me. Standing in the middle of a swamp a few kilometers from the academy, only one idea came to mind. It was an idea to which death or suicide was a better option.
But I still wanted to live, even if it was just for a few more days.
...
The child continued to listen to the story of the woman, but at least the subject changed from Blood Brotherhood to unicorns and dragons. But then it suddenly hit me. Why is there only one child with this group?
Scanning through the group I started to analyse each one. Half a dozen vanguards and archers, obviously well trained ex-guards. Two really shady guys, trying to look normal, but for my trained eyes it's not hard to discern assassins and spies. An old man, who has been guiding along the path. a guide. A woman who has been caressing a child, which fell asleep a few moments ago, a nanny. A child, with perfectly symmetrical features. A noble, no, someone important. Royalty. They're all dressed in simple clothes without attributes, but you can't hide what you really are.
Funny thing.
The reason all nobles look very handsome and beautiful isn't just because that they take better care of themselves. When you're in power, you can choose the best spouses available on the "market". Which means even if you're ugly, stupid, and without any magic talent, you can choose the most beautiful wife with great magic talent, and you can do that for your children too. Which results in beautiful and talented grandchildren. But that's an example of only two generations, what about the royalty, nobles and powerful families which had dozens of generations to continue that process.
It doesn't matter how you started or how you gained power, even if it was the most despicable, dishonourable, pathetic or backstabbing way. In the end, time and power will wash everything away, leaving a fancy fairy tale created to glorify something that didn't even exist in the first place, but which would create a superiority complex for generations to come. And now you have someone, who even in their "hidden" state, can be recognised. Just because their parents were picky with who to have children with. But can you blame the child for that?
[Interesting, how would they react if they knew that you were the one who caused that hell in their city? You killed that child's parents, leaving him an orphan. And because of that all these people had to leave their homes and families in their time of need, and travel to who-knows-where to protect a single child, which isn't even theirs.]
[How do you feel? Should we tell them the truth and have some fun?]
Their dead eyes and tired eyes told me enough.
In a day or two we will reach Samolesh, there's no reason to create problems, and my body can't take take much right now. I just need to hold on for a bit longer.
...
I can see Samolesh, about four kilometers away, standing between two rocky hills, blocking the only path through them. A choke-point. But even from here you can see what's happening in the city, people running around trying to hide from what they believe is the wrath of the gods. The party and Olana are standing in awe as bubbles of fire exploded, appearing in trails through the city, followed by rare purple beams. Half of minute of absolute silence follows.
In the distance I can see a person in red clothes with a staff, who suddenly appeared at least three-hundred and fifty meters above the city. He may appear immobile, but I can see subtle motions of his staff, which end with raised and spread arms.
One of the party members wants to say something, but a flash of light interrupts him and fixes the gazes of everyone on the city. A new bubble of fire appeared in the center of the city, growing tremendously fast, and more destructive than all of the previous spells together. AS it continues growing and covers at least a third of the city. I can see the shock wave traveling in all directions with enormous speed, to which I responded accordingly and prepared to cover my eyes. Everyone else just stands looking at the event in awe. But a few fractions of a second before the shock wave hit, I saw a thin beam crossing the sky with colossal speed.
The shock wave hit us much softer and I expected, but the few yelps I heard told me that not many shared my opinion. When I removed my hand from eyes, the dust and rocks were already settling down, but the party members were grunting and trying to get sand and stone pieces out of their eyes. Oh come on. By the visible shock wave and the dust on the ground you should've expected that.
The city is half-melted with nearly no sound, except the hum after the explosion, the crumbling city, and the coughs of the party. Everyone looked in horror at the city. The clouds in the sky are split apart by a straight line which continues to widen in a perpendicular direction to where I saw the purple beam pass through. You can see the big rocks split apart, causing cracks in the same direction while dark smoke floats out of them.
"What the HELL was that?" Muttered Olana.
What are you talking about? This is what a Wizard battle looks like. You should be able to do something similar to even call yourself a Wizard.
Returning my sight back to the city I catch sight of two falling objects. Trying to focus on one of the objects I quickly find out what it is, or at least who it was. It looks like the purple beam found its target. Well, one of the Wizards is dead. If the other one didn't survive the explosion and heat, we have two dead Wizards and a city, nearly erased from the face of the Earth.
[Isn't it nice when an issue between two people causes the death of thousands? Nothing that we could possibly know, right?]
While the party is in a stupor I start walking back to the horses, it looks like I won't be able to get a decent rest in this city. And the travel should continue, whatever happens. Who knows if anyone survived, and standing her won't solve anything. While I ride towards the half-destroyed city I rethink my feelings about the situation. There must be something wrong with me, thousands died, but I just don't really care.
Is it because of who the residents were? No.
Did they deserve that fate? No.
Then why?
It's said that empathy is the core of being an advanced species, a ticket that proves that the species reached a point where they can be considered a high social structure. What does it say about me if I lost one of those core properties?
[What's wrong? You should be happy, you will see a few more sunsets than them. You were a tiny bit more lucky than the residents of the city.]
I should be happy because they died and I didn't?
[That;s the way people work. They don't look at the grand scheme. People get happy because they have a single piece of bread more than their neighbours, even if they live in total poverty.]
[And we're all simple people, aren't we?]
Chapter Fourteen
Table of Contents
Chapter Sixteen
Tuesday, July 2, 2019
Another Day - Chapter Fourteen
Killing the upper echelon of a major city during a time of war may not have been the smartest decision on my part. Thinking over the events of the past few days, I've been extraordinarily lucky. Many important people had come to the city by caravans, and the city leaders had prepared a "feast" just before the war to "strengthen" their ties. And by "strengthening" their ties with the corrupted rituals they bind everyone together. And if you've been invited, and if you don't take part you disappear.
And even if your guilty conscience does starts to eat at you, what can you do? Tell the people that their leaders, idols, and heroes are evil? That they sacrifice children and slaves to Lucifer? They'll laugh at you, ridicule you, and turn a deaf ear to you. And those in power have many ears, so in the end you will disappear quietly.
But I still don't understand how I survived against dozens of wizards, they cast their spells, but they were really weak. It's strange, the wizards I know are gods among men, creatures of mana that bend the world to their will through mere thought. Are my standards of wizards to high? No, there must be a reasonable explanation for it.
But an empty bubble of power did more damage than I could imagine. The whole city is in chaos, the moment their masters disappeared, factions started to crawl out of their holes. Bandits, assassins, mercenaries, and guards with ambitions. They were all controlled in some form, money, blackmail, or fear. Politicians have polished their skills for manipulation and control for eons.
The city is closer to hell than it ever was before. Someone poisoned the already limited supply of clean water, during the past several days of battle about a tenth of the city burned down. People are hungry, scared, and desperate. The gates and walls are guarded like never before, no one can exit, well nearly no one. There are always exceptions, if you have gold of course. And even if you leave, what are you going to do in the middle of the desert in a state of war?
The thing is, every city has an Emir, something close to a mayor. The Emir answers to the Dead Desert Consul. The Consul is a group of the most powerful merchants in the desert, and they think only in terms of profit. They communicate with each city through a special enchanted communication walls. And those walls require a small group of skilled mages to operate, which are held in high respect. There's an incredibly high chance the mages were in on the "feast", so I ended up in a city with nearly no communication with the outside world.
This city is an important point in the desert, so it will be "taken under control" one way or another. Sending and capturing the city will take resources, but if the city if left to rot and starve, in its half-dead state it'll be much cheaper. The lives don't matter, they never did.
...
I survived, somehow. But with only one lung it's hard to do anything. With my basic knowledge of biology I just "tell" my body where to send the nutrition, so if something can be healed on a normal person, it can be healed with mana but it's faster. But it's a totally different story if that part doesn't heal normally. In those cases I have to manually control my body. Regenerating lost rib bones is difficult, I have to extract bone essence from the other bones and direct it to the correct area. Regenerating bones is difficult, but restoring limbs and internal organs is a FUCKING pain in the ass. I still don't understand how saying a few fancy words can magically recreate body parts, I've seen how it happens with my own eyes, and it's still bullshit.
FUCKING MAGES.
Powerful earth Wizards are by no means rare, but that fucking Earth Javelin did "quite some damage" to my lung, and by that I mean it fucking disintegrated it. The javelin pierced at least five people before it got to me, they exploded into chunks of flesh and gore instantaneously, the only thing that kept me from following in their footsteps was weaving mana into my flesh in an attempt to hold my body together. Surprisingly the mana worked, so instead of exploding into little bits of flesh I was thrown into the air, surprising no one, the landing was not gentle. I had to take "manual" control of my body's systems just to hold myself together. In retrospect it's a good thing that the javelin had such a high velocity, if it didn't rip that chunk of flesh out then my body would've had to absorb the kinetic energy, and that would've been a bad ending.
...
The nightmares don't stop. But at least I no one visited me there.
...
I need to leave the city, but with my body, it's an achievement to take a shit and not fall apart.
Back when I was in the north everything was looking easy and planned out, but the further south I went the more problems arose. Stumbling upon Caliphate assassins, nearly missing the caravan because bandits had a burst of creativity and blew up the ship I was on. And even though I somehow arrived before the caravan departed, the situation with the cultists happened. But it all pales before the fact that a war started when I was in the center of the country, the Dead Desert, which resulted in heightened security especially around the cities. Oh, and not to forget that a really "smart person" decided that it was the best time to clean the city of cultists, which resulted in utter chaos, and a full stop on travel.
Great,.... isn't it?
I'm not really sure what to do next, all possible plans of traveling through the Dead Desert fell apart. But before I can get across the desert, I need to think about how the hell do I get out of this damned city. But problems are never alone, the wind Wizard with who I traveled with in the caravan is circling above the city, searching for someone.
Me, most likely.
It looks like she has been following me from the moment I entered the city, but because of the event in the adventure guild she lost me. I can feel it in my guts that whatever she wants will cause more problems than it's worth. I don't know why she's looking for me or what she wants, and I don't really care. With her I could easily travel over the walls, but I still don't want to.
Don't want. Definitely don't want.
[No one is asking your opinion. We have a problem, and need a solution. Time is more important. Get. To. Work.]
She has a predictable pattern, flying around for about twenty minutes, landing to rest until she can fly again. Its been a few days since she started. Her stubbornness is commendable, but why is it always directed in the wrong direction.
I'm not hiding, or at least that's what I would like to think. If a fight started, or lets say, she would want to "enforce" her opinions or demands, I'm not sure if I would be able to politely decline in my current state.
I need to continue what I was doing before, cleaning slave-houses.
Because of the internal strife, no one will spare the effort to care about them, they're just a food burden. But when they'll need a meat shield for battle, the situation will turn around. I need to take advantage of the situation while I can.
"People", huh. I still have doubts after what happened yesterday.
...
A woman in a blue dress is held down by four others. One of them is tired of her struggling, and punches her, drawing a yelp of pain and sobbing. They proceed to rip her clothes off, and remove their pants. They stop at the last moment when they finally take note of me. They look at me, the area barely illuminated by the setting sun, after exchanging brief glances and sneers with each other, one of them stands up and lunges at me with a knife.
I may look more like a hobo than I ever have, covered in blood head to toe, with rags barely covering my body. Constantly limping, coughing when I try to take a breath. But even in my state there's still strength in my hands. The attacker falls down onto the floor screaming, after I ripped the arm, wielding the knife, out of his shoulder socket. They finally react to me as if I'm a threat and as they turn I can finally see their faces. After several seconds I recognise them, they're the ones I freed last night. A group of demi-humans, barely sixteen.
"Why?" I squeeze out. "I freed you from slavery, and the first thing you do with that freedom is rape?"
They squint their eyes and they widen as they recognise me, but their eyes still show hate.
"ANSWER ME!"
"They do not deserve to live. What they've done to use can't be forgiven!" The youngest one on the right says, his cat ears laying flat against his head. "They tortured us, they starved us! We were less than animals! They...They all...my...my mom.....they didn't....they never stopped....I begged, I promised I would do anything.....but they....my mom..." He finishes though the tears that streamed from his dark brown eyes. "They killed her, fed her body to the dogs. I will kill them. All of them. Humans are evil. You're all the same. You all deserve to die. Men, women, and children. You-" He proclaims while pointing his dagger at me.
A moment later his neck splits apart, the others followed his fate soon after, while the half-naked woman on the ground looks at me in horror. She screams and starts crawling away from me. The head of the boy comes to a stop on the ground, his dead eyes looking to the sky with tears still streaming out of them, his face frozen in an enraged expression.
[Do not dare to look away. This is the result of your actions. You did it.]
There are things that can not be forgiven. His mother....I'm not sure I would. There's nothing I could say to them, nothing to heal or help them. They were just wounded animals, and they sought destruction.
I am responsible for that.
[Don't make a scene out of it, it's not the first time you've killed children, certainly not the last either. They didn't ask for your help, they never needed your help. But still, you're not so different from that boy. You have never created anything, never nurtured anything. Destruction is the only thing you know, the only think you are able to do, and nothing will change that.]
[But..you are not alone. Those you hate and despise, those that use and manipulate, those that have power and authority are the same as you in that respect. Aren't you happy that there are people similar to you?]
There is no righteousness in this world. And there never will be, and we made it that way.
...
Innocents may have died because I freed slaves, and many will die. Their deaths are on my conscience. Should I really free more? The situation from yesterday may repeat.
[May?]
They are not bound by fate, they have free will. I should not judge them by the actions of their kin.
[Oh? What of Dark Elves? So humans and demi-humans should bot be judged, but Dark Elves are one big evil group, all the same? Fucking hypocrite. If you have rules at least stick to them, even HE follows his.]
...
Glancing at the wind Wizard I see that she's finally out of mana and starts descending. I have some tome before she returns to the search. I need to move. As I start in the opposite direction and start thinking about my next action I hear a wind spell explosion followed by a scream in the area where the Wizard should've landed.
Not my problem. Not mine.
That's what people always say, "Someone else will help."
[And what they always will say. People are able to convince themselves quite easily if it ensures that they will sleep better. We will sleep better knowing that she wasn't OUT problem, won't we?]
Shit, life would be so much easier if I was different. How different life could be, but it won't.
Limping towards the direction of the sound I find a rather ugly situation. There are at least twenty bandits, one with an enchanted crossbow standing in the rear. The Wizard is pinned to the wall by a large bolt in her shoulder. Daggers embedded into her palms hold her immobile to the wall. There's a gag in her mouth, and she's unconscious and bleeding from her temple.
"Come on. No one will notice. She's not a virgin for sure, so no one will even know if we have a go."
"No, that's the final answer. Do not damage the goods."
As they were grumbling and arguing I was gathering as much air as I could. My body won't be able to take on a long battle with one lung, I need to end it fast. I throw a short dagger into the head of the one with the crossbow, while swinging the sword in a wide arc to kill as many as I can. The first swing took six in an explosion of flesh and gore with the sound of bone crunching and flesh ripping apart, the second swing followed shortly after.
One of them in the rear of the group suddenly took out another enchanted crossbow from his cloak. I should've expected them to have more than one crossbow, the distance between us is too small to dodge and too large to reach him.
FUCK.
The fired arrow disappeared and an enormous force pinned me to the wall as my sword falls out of my hand. It went through the left lung, FUCK. The wound only started to heal. With a roar I rip myself out of the wall and attack with everything I have.
...
I finally finished coughing out the pieces of my lung that only started regenerating, great now I have to restart the regeneration already. God damn it.
A few ran away, crushed a few of their skulls with my hands, few had their throats ripped out. Their blood is still flowing from my mouth, teeth are a really good weapon, and they're always with you. It may look and sound barbaric, but when your life is on the line you tend to use everything you have and philosophical preferences don't matter too much. The ones who ran away will return with backup. I need to get out of here but the retarded dart board is still pinned to the wall.
So much mana and power, but it's all useless if you don't know who to use it correctly. Should I help her? She'll cause problems.
[Always finish what you started.]
I sigh and remove the daggers pinning her to the wall. The daggers fall to the ground with a clang, after I rip the bolt out she falls down like a sack of potatoes. Oh come on. Slapping her face several times doesn't wake her.
[Finish what you started.]
With a groan I throw her over my shoulder and start limping back towards the direction I came from. The burning sun and heat of noon isn't helping in the least.
[Who are you going to blame? Our life, our decisions.]
...
I used a few pieces of cloth to bandage her wounds. I don't have any potions, and even if I did I wouldn't give them to her. Closing my bleeding took a bit more energy than it would've usually. I wasn't allowed to fully heal from the last hunt, nor the one before that, wyvern not taken into account.
The night came but she still hadn't woken up, and I'm too tired to wait any longer, and I'm not falling asleep with her near me. Slapping her a few times finally gave a result, she slowly opens her eyes with a groan as her eyes meet mine. Green eyes, green clothes, and wind magic. I really hope this is just a random combination and not a personal aesthetic preference. The eccentric ones with visual preferences are the biggest pain in the ass. She continues to stare at me in half a daze for at least a minute until her eyes start to close. I really don't have time for this.
"Why were you searching for me?"
"What?" She replied with a weak voice as she jerks awake with pain visible on her face. I really, really don't have time for this.
"Some idiot was uselessly wasting energy to fly around in search of something or someone. Bandits waited until that idiot wasted most of her mana and ambushed her."
As if remembering, her eyes widen in realisation. "You saved me?"
"You survived. Most of them didn't."
"Thank you." She says quietly.
"You didn't answer the question."
After looking at me for a few more seconds she continues "I need your help."
"I already helped you."
She continues to stare at me, as if waiting for something. I'm really tired of her shit, as soon as I try to get more information out of her she closes her eyes and falls asleep. The cloth on her shoulder is turning red. She has lost too much blood and won't be able to cause issues for sometime. I re-bandage her shoulder with what I had available, a piece of her cloak, she should survive, at least for now. I can leave her here, but she's the easiest ticket over the wall.
[She will cause more problems.]
I start to calculate my other options for crossing the wall, whatever I do it will take longer, and less likely to succeed than using her. Maybe I can ask her to get me over the wall for saving her, but whatever she wants should have been worth several days of search and she will bring it up.
Fuck.
The decision brings on a deep sigh.
[You will regret it one way or another.]
...
In the morning I wake with a groan, this body won't hold for much longer if I continue like this. But who cares? It doesn't need to. I look in the direction of my ticket and find her awake, standing and staring at me. Great, she awoke earlier than she should've, and looks much healthier than I am, and to top it all off, she could've killed me if she wanted to.
[Your decision. You allowed that.]
She continues to stare at me with expectation. I need to take control before she does. I stand up.
"I saved you yesterday. Repay me with getting over the city walls."
"Promise to help me first."
"What?"
"Promise to help me."
Did she hit her head to hard? "Why should I?"
She continues to stare at me, minutes pass in absolute silence while we stare at each other. This clearly isn't getting us anywhere. Sigh.
"What exactly do you want?"
"I need you to go somewhere with me."
"Why?"
"Because I asked for your help." She says with a somehow questioning and authoritative look. As if the fact that I am asking it is ridiculous.
What the actual fuck. Because she asked for help? No, no, no, no. This is an overkill, this isn't worth it. I had enough problems so far, a mentally ill idiot will not become another one. As I walk away, she speaks quickly.
"If you don't I'll tell Uncle Yorgan."
"Haa?"
"Someone attacked the Emir's palace. The Emir's family's dismembered remains were found in the palace dungeon which as rumor says was used in dark rituals. Bodies of A class adventurers were found there too." She pauses for a few seconds, looking directly into my eyes and continues "Not many can do that." She takes a deep breath and continues.
"You're a Blood Brother, I saw the mark. You came to the city and the next day the dark cult was found. That's no coincidence." Still looking into my eyes as if she expects a change in my expression or a reaction.
"You must be from the Heretic Hunter group. My uncle, Lord Yorgan Kilfaros, is one of your captains. If you don't help me I will send a letter to him and you will be punished."
There is so much I want to say, but it's as if you're trying to squeeze something enormous through a small hole, everything gets stuck.
"Help me, please." She finishes with desperation.
This desperate stuck-up idiot with mental issues tries her best to seem like she's in control, but I can smell her fear. A strong headache pushes me too close to making a rash decision.
"We will talk after you get me over the wall." I squeeze out.
"No. Promise me that you will go together with me to Mozzarel. Promise me. Blood Brothers never break a promise."
It seems like I'm going to travel through it one way or another.
"I promise that I will travel to Mozzarel."
"Thank you." She says with a bright childish smile. "We will travel over the wall tomorrow night. I need to rest a bit more and get a few things in the city. The trip will be long and hard."
So my wrecked condition isn't taken into account.
[People will always think only about themselves.]
The fact that she knows, that the Emir family was part of the cult, means the information is public. It was made public on purpose, a tool to sway the masses to a new ruler more than likely. The city is going to hell faster than it should. I don't know what worries me more, the fact that an inexperienced, but powerful Wizard has the mental capabilities of a child and threatens me with "You bad. I tell mommy.", adding to that the absolute belief in "Blood Brother pinky promise" bullshit, or the fact that she doesn't know that Yorgan has been dead for at least the past five years.
...
Yorgan. He saved my life, several times in fact.
[Oh? Do you think helping her will repay the debt you owe him? Don't lie to yourself. He's dead, rotting in his grave, and there's nothing you can do to help him. Nothing.]
[Focus on your goals. There are still slavehouses in the city. Isn't this what you wanted to do? Who knows maybe the nightmares wont return. Right?]
...
I cleaned as much of the city as I could. I can't delay any longer, there isn't enough time left. Olana, the wind Wizard, helped me get the food and travel supplies. It was harder than one would expect. Buying anything is no longer possible, lack of clean water, groups fighting for power, desperation and utter chaos changed the city within a few days. Shops are closed, food is so scarce that people started killing each other for a few pieces of bread, and it's not just a few instances, the whole city is in such a state. Gold is worthless if you can't exchange it for goods.
Incredible what a small piece of information, a war, a few poisoned wells, and several dead people, rulers mostly, can do. It took one and a half days to gather all of the resources needed for travel. And a single night to free slaves. Funny thing was, freeing the slaves was the easier task.
The "acquired" horses, clean water, and food were quickly transported to the other side of the wall. We had to drug the horses as they don't take to flight too well, and any sound could be the end of the operation.
The guards with enchanted crossbows are serious problems. In close quarters I can "disable" them quickly, at a distance I can evade them, but at mid range they're deadly, especially if there are several of them. There's a guard with a crossbow every four meters on the wall, and you can't guess which one of them has the enchanted crossbow.
...
Olana cast a wind spell which took us all together and transported us as far as possible from the city walls. All-in-all she was able to hold on for a few minutes, but it was enough as we were roughly half a kilometer from the city. She said she was tired and that she isn't used to carrying so much weight with her spells.
Tired, huh.
Still trying to hold onto the status of a "powerful Wizard", but I don't care. I've seen many trying to pose as something they were not, and even those that represented something always tried to cast a bigger shadow, as if it would change what they really are.
We quickly woke the horses and started to travel. While I'm on horseback it's much easier to heal. Still, it doesn't change the fact that there's just too much to heal, my body is basically just one big wound.
...
Taking priority I healed my lungs first, with more oxygen moving through my body, it'll function better. In about a week we will get to Samolesh, the southern-most city of the Dead Desert. From then on it'll be a near straight shot. It's only spring, but the heat is already unbearable. I don't understand how people live in this region and don't lose their mind. Several "locals" thought a pair of traveling adventurers were easy prey. They were quickly proven wrong. The good thing is that you only need to prove them wrong once, the bad thing is that there are many that you need to prove it to.
[But who's counting the number of dead bodies we're leaving behind. Right? They're not people, or at least it's easier to think that way. How many fates we crushed, how many lives we destroyed.]
...
I didn't speak much with my "traveling companion", but her constant glances for the past few days have become quite tiring. Still, I will not start the conversation.
[You're doing your best to not address her by name. Still trying to think of her as nothing more than a temporary shadow? Just like we've done to everyone we met. By her behavior it's clear that she's a noble. But the fact that a noble wizard is traveling alone raises too many questions, and getting to Mozzarel definitely isn't the goal. Therefore, the question, what is it?]
Olana, as if finally gathering the courage and determination to speak, opens her mouth a few times before saying "Listen, I know that you're not allowed to discuss this stuff, but, my Uncle, do you know how..." She trails off.
I know exactly where this is going, and anything I say will only cause more questions, problems, and issues. I continue to look forward as if I never heard the question. After a few seconds of silence she continues.
"...Never mind. I shouldn't have asked."
Sometimes, the best answer is silence.
...
Life is a strange thing. We meet people we never expect to meet.
It looks like the group of the ogre, dwarf, and the elf somehow left the city too.They didn't do it alone, but that's normal, higher numbers increase the chance of survival. We all somehow found a small oasis in the middle of nowhere. They're extremely rare, and if people find them, they always try to rest there and replenish water supplies. It should've been a "happy" moment, where two traveling groups meet, a moment where we clap each other on the backs, congratulating each other that we survived and left the city somehow.
But it isn't.
When we arrived at the oasis everything was already finished, the desert centipede pack attack was repelled. Repelled, with a price. Out of fifteen people in the group that arrived, four lay dead. One of the dead was the dwarf, whose name I don't even remember. He lays on his back with a big bloody wound in the center of his chest, while the sand under him turns red. The ogre stands over the body of his comrade, while the elf is on his knees, weeping and laying over the body of the dwarf.
Not comrade, friends. Whatever they said or did, they were still together.
Till the end.
"Silo, we need to go." Said the ogre.
"Go?" Whispered the elf turning to the ogre. "Go where Metas? Liam died and you want to go?!"
"There's nothing we can do for him now."
"Nothing we can do? Is that all you can say?! You can't grieve him at all? Did you ever think of him as a friend!?"
The ogres eye shot open as he punched the elf in the face, sending him to the ground.
"He was as much your friend as he was mine!! You think I am not in pain, you think I..." He stops as tears stream down his face.
Life goes on.
People die every second.
[That's just a statistic. Every single one of them has a name, a family, friends and enemies, dreams and hopes, a story never told. But together they are just a statistic.]
I continue to stand and look as everyone around keeps moving, checking their gear and prepping, except for the duo crying with their dead friend on the ground.
Memories of me in a bloody uniform standing on a battlefield riddled with craters filled with fire, with pieces of my teammates laying around while legions march towards me. We were left to die, reinforcements weren't just late, they didn't exist in the first place. We were meant to die, to disappear, burying our secrets with us.
Returning from my memories, I see the ogre pick up the dwarf's body, and put it on a horse.
[Nice, isn't it? You're not the only one suffering, they're also in the hurricane of chaos and death we call life. They're as much alive as you are. You always tried to evade looking into people, as the more you look, the more you take it personally. You will try to understand them, help them, put yourself in their place. But don't look too deep, or we will lose the edge which we need to do what is required.]
[Do. Not. Forget. We are not allowed to die, the moment we die, HE will take control over this body. We need to make sure that not a single piece of this body remains. HE will spend every single fraction of his power to bend fate to get this body. And THEY ALL know this, and they are waiting for our death with glee.]
I can't die.
Not yet, not here, not now.
I don't want to see another day, there is nothing good waiting for me there.
I want to end it all now.
But I can't.
Death is easy, living is hard.
A new day shall come, and maybe, just maybe it will be different.
Hope is not much, but it's all we have.
Chapter Thirteen
Table of Contents
Chapter Fifteen
And even if your guilty conscience does starts to eat at you, what can you do? Tell the people that their leaders, idols, and heroes are evil? That they sacrifice children and slaves to Lucifer? They'll laugh at you, ridicule you, and turn a deaf ear to you. And those in power have many ears, so in the end you will disappear quietly.
But I still don't understand how I survived against dozens of wizards, they cast their spells, but they were really weak. It's strange, the wizards I know are gods among men, creatures of mana that bend the world to their will through mere thought. Are my standards of wizards to high? No, there must be a reasonable explanation for it.
But an empty bubble of power did more damage than I could imagine. The whole city is in chaos, the moment their masters disappeared, factions started to crawl out of their holes. Bandits, assassins, mercenaries, and guards with ambitions. They were all controlled in some form, money, blackmail, or fear. Politicians have polished their skills for manipulation and control for eons.
The city is closer to hell than it ever was before. Someone poisoned the already limited supply of clean water, during the past several days of battle about a tenth of the city burned down. People are hungry, scared, and desperate. The gates and walls are guarded like never before, no one can exit, well nearly no one. There are always exceptions, if you have gold of course. And even if you leave, what are you going to do in the middle of the desert in a state of war?
The thing is, every city has an Emir, something close to a mayor. The Emir answers to the Dead Desert Consul. The Consul is a group of the most powerful merchants in the desert, and they think only in terms of profit. They communicate with each city through a special enchanted communication walls. And those walls require a small group of skilled mages to operate, which are held in high respect. There's an incredibly high chance the mages were in on the "feast", so I ended up in a city with nearly no communication with the outside world.
This city is an important point in the desert, so it will be "taken under control" one way or another. Sending and capturing the city will take resources, but if the city if left to rot and starve, in its half-dead state it'll be much cheaper. The lives don't matter, they never did.
...
I survived, somehow. But with only one lung it's hard to do anything. With my basic knowledge of biology I just "tell" my body where to send the nutrition, so if something can be healed on a normal person, it can be healed with mana but it's faster. But it's a totally different story if that part doesn't heal normally. In those cases I have to manually control my body. Regenerating lost rib bones is difficult, I have to extract bone essence from the other bones and direct it to the correct area. Regenerating bones is difficult, but restoring limbs and internal organs is a FUCKING pain in the ass. I still don't understand how saying a few fancy words can magically recreate body parts, I've seen how it happens with my own eyes, and it's still bullshit.
FUCKING MAGES.
Powerful earth Wizards are by no means rare, but that fucking Earth Javelin did "quite some damage" to my lung, and by that I mean it fucking disintegrated it. The javelin pierced at least five people before it got to me, they exploded into chunks of flesh and gore instantaneously, the only thing that kept me from following in their footsteps was weaving mana into my flesh in an attempt to hold my body together. Surprisingly the mana worked, so instead of exploding into little bits of flesh I was thrown into the air, surprising no one, the landing was not gentle. I had to take "manual" control of my body's systems just to hold myself together. In retrospect it's a good thing that the javelin had such a high velocity, if it didn't rip that chunk of flesh out then my body would've had to absorb the kinetic energy, and that would've been a bad ending.
...
The nightmares don't stop. But at least I no one visited me there.
...
I need to leave the city, but with my body, it's an achievement to take a shit and not fall apart.
Back when I was in the north everything was looking easy and planned out, but the further south I went the more problems arose. Stumbling upon Caliphate assassins, nearly missing the caravan because bandits had a burst of creativity and blew up the ship I was on. And even though I somehow arrived before the caravan departed, the situation with the cultists happened. But it all pales before the fact that a war started when I was in the center of the country, the Dead Desert, which resulted in heightened security especially around the cities. Oh, and not to forget that a really "smart person" decided that it was the best time to clean the city of cultists, which resulted in utter chaos, and a full stop on travel.
Great,.... isn't it?
I'm not really sure what to do next, all possible plans of traveling through the Dead Desert fell apart. But before I can get across the desert, I need to think about how the hell do I get out of this damned city. But problems are never alone, the wind Wizard with who I traveled with in the caravan is circling above the city, searching for someone.
Me, most likely.
It looks like she has been following me from the moment I entered the city, but because of the event in the adventure guild she lost me. I can feel it in my guts that whatever she wants will cause more problems than it's worth. I don't know why she's looking for me or what she wants, and I don't really care. With her I could easily travel over the walls, but I still don't want to.
Don't want. Definitely don't want.
[No one is asking your opinion. We have a problem, and need a solution. Time is more important. Get. To. Work.]
She has a predictable pattern, flying around for about twenty minutes, landing to rest until she can fly again. Its been a few days since she started. Her stubbornness is commendable, but why is it always directed in the wrong direction.
I'm not hiding, or at least that's what I would like to think. If a fight started, or lets say, she would want to "enforce" her opinions or demands, I'm not sure if I would be able to politely decline in my current state.
I need to continue what I was doing before, cleaning slave-houses.
Because of the internal strife, no one will spare the effort to care about them, they're just a food burden. But when they'll need a meat shield for battle, the situation will turn around. I need to take advantage of the situation while I can.
"People", huh. I still have doubts after what happened yesterday.
...
A woman in a blue dress is held down by four others. One of them is tired of her struggling, and punches her, drawing a yelp of pain and sobbing. They proceed to rip her clothes off, and remove their pants. They stop at the last moment when they finally take note of me. They look at me, the area barely illuminated by the setting sun, after exchanging brief glances and sneers with each other, one of them stands up and lunges at me with a knife.
I may look more like a hobo than I ever have, covered in blood head to toe, with rags barely covering my body. Constantly limping, coughing when I try to take a breath. But even in my state there's still strength in my hands. The attacker falls down onto the floor screaming, after I ripped the arm, wielding the knife, out of his shoulder socket. They finally react to me as if I'm a threat and as they turn I can finally see their faces. After several seconds I recognise them, they're the ones I freed last night. A group of demi-humans, barely sixteen.
"Why?" I squeeze out. "I freed you from slavery, and the first thing you do with that freedom is rape?"
They squint their eyes and they widen as they recognise me, but their eyes still show hate.
"ANSWER ME!"
"They do not deserve to live. What they've done to use can't be forgiven!" The youngest one on the right says, his cat ears laying flat against his head. "They tortured us, they starved us! We were less than animals! They...They all...my...my mom.....they didn't....they never stopped....I begged, I promised I would do anything.....but they....my mom..." He finishes though the tears that streamed from his dark brown eyes. "They killed her, fed her body to the dogs. I will kill them. All of them. Humans are evil. You're all the same. You all deserve to die. Men, women, and children. You-" He proclaims while pointing his dagger at me.
A moment later his neck splits apart, the others followed his fate soon after, while the half-naked woman on the ground looks at me in horror. She screams and starts crawling away from me. The head of the boy comes to a stop on the ground, his dead eyes looking to the sky with tears still streaming out of them, his face frozen in an enraged expression.
[Do not dare to look away. This is the result of your actions. You did it.]
There are things that can not be forgiven. His mother....I'm not sure I would. There's nothing I could say to them, nothing to heal or help them. They were just wounded animals, and they sought destruction.
I am responsible for that.
[Don't make a scene out of it, it's not the first time you've killed children, certainly not the last either. They didn't ask for your help, they never needed your help. But still, you're not so different from that boy. You have never created anything, never nurtured anything. Destruction is the only thing you know, the only think you are able to do, and nothing will change that.]
[But..you are not alone. Those you hate and despise, those that use and manipulate, those that have power and authority are the same as you in that respect. Aren't you happy that there are people similar to you?]
There is no righteousness in this world. And there never will be, and we made it that way.
...
Innocents may have died because I freed slaves, and many will die. Their deaths are on my conscience. Should I really free more? The situation from yesterday may repeat.
[May?]
They are not bound by fate, they have free will. I should not judge them by the actions of their kin.
[Oh? What of Dark Elves? So humans and demi-humans should bot be judged, but Dark Elves are one big evil group, all the same? Fucking hypocrite. If you have rules at least stick to them, even HE follows his.]
...
Glancing at the wind Wizard I see that she's finally out of mana and starts descending. I have some tome before she returns to the search. I need to move. As I start in the opposite direction and start thinking about my next action I hear a wind spell explosion followed by a scream in the area where the Wizard should've landed.
Not my problem. Not mine.
That's what people always say, "Someone else will help."
[And what they always will say. People are able to convince themselves quite easily if it ensures that they will sleep better. We will sleep better knowing that she wasn't OUT problem, won't we?]
Shit, life would be so much easier if I was different. How different life could be, but it won't.
Limping towards the direction of the sound I find a rather ugly situation. There are at least twenty bandits, one with an enchanted crossbow standing in the rear. The Wizard is pinned to the wall by a large bolt in her shoulder. Daggers embedded into her palms hold her immobile to the wall. There's a gag in her mouth, and she's unconscious and bleeding from her temple.
"Come on. No one will notice. She's not a virgin for sure, so no one will even know if we have a go."
"No, that's the final answer. Do not damage the goods."
As they were grumbling and arguing I was gathering as much air as I could. My body won't be able to take on a long battle with one lung, I need to end it fast. I throw a short dagger into the head of the one with the crossbow, while swinging the sword in a wide arc to kill as many as I can. The first swing took six in an explosion of flesh and gore with the sound of bone crunching and flesh ripping apart, the second swing followed shortly after.
One of them in the rear of the group suddenly took out another enchanted crossbow from his cloak. I should've expected them to have more than one crossbow, the distance between us is too small to dodge and too large to reach him.
FUCK.
The fired arrow disappeared and an enormous force pinned me to the wall as my sword falls out of my hand. It went through the left lung, FUCK. The wound only started to heal. With a roar I rip myself out of the wall and attack with everything I have.
...
I finally finished coughing out the pieces of my lung that only started regenerating, great now I have to restart the regeneration already. God damn it.
A few ran away, crushed a few of their skulls with my hands, few had their throats ripped out. Their blood is still flowing from my mouth, teeth are a really good weapon, and they're always with you. It may look and sound barbaric, but when your life is on the line you tend to use everything you have and philosophical preferences don't matter too much. The ones who ran away will return with backup. I need to get out of here but the retarded dart board is still pinned to the wall.
So much mana and power, but it's all useless if you don't know who to use it correctly. Should I help her? She'll cause problems.
[Always finish what you started.]
I sigh and remove the daggers pinning her to the wall. The daggers fall to the ground with a clang, after I rip the bolt out she falls down like a sack of potatoes. Oh come on. Slapping her face several times doesn't wake her.
[Finish what you started.]
With a groan I throw her over my shoulder and start limping back towards the direction I came from. The burning sun and heat of noon isn't helping in the least.
[Who are you going to blame? Our life, our decisions.]
...
I used a few pieces of cloth to bandage her wounds. I don't have any potions, and even if I did I wouldn't give them to her. Closing my bleeding took a bit more energy than it would've usually. I wasn't allowed to fully heal from the last hunt, nor the one before that, wyvern not taken into account.
The night came but she still hadn't woken up, and I'm too tired to wait any longer, and I'm not falling asleep with her near me. Slapping her a few times finally gave a result, she slowly opens her eyes with a groan as her eyes meet mine. Green eyes, green clothes, and wind magic. I really hope this is just a random combination and not a personal aesthetic preference. The eccentric ones with visual preferences are the biggest pain in the ass. She continues to stare at me in half a daze for at least a minute until her eyes start to close. I really don't have time for this.
"Why were you searching for me?"
"What?" She replied with a weak voice as she jerks awake with pain visible on her face. I really, really don't have time for this.
"Some idiot was uselessly wasting energy to fly around in search of something or someone. Bandits waited until that idiot wasted most of her mana and ambushed her."
As if remembering, her eyes widen in realisation. "You saved me?"
"You survived. Most of them didn't."
"Thank you." She says quietly.
"You didn't answer the question."
After looking at me for a few more seconds she continues "I need your help."
"I already helped you."
She continues to stare at me, as if waiting for something. I'm really tired of her shit, as soon as I try to get more information out of her she closes her eyes and falls asleep. The cloth on her shoulder is turning red. She has lost too much blood and won't be able to cause issues for sometime. I re-bandage her shoulder with what I had available, a piece of her cloak, she should survive, at least for now. I can leave her here, but she's the easiest ticket over the wall.
[She will cause more problems.]
I start to calculate my other options for crossing the wall, whatever I do it will take longer, and less likely to succeed than using her. Maybe I can ask her to get me over the wall for saving her, but whatever she wants should have been worth several days of search and she will bring it up.
Fuck.
The decision brings on a deep sigh.
[You will regret it one way or another.]
...
In the morning I wake with a groan, this body won't hold for much longer if I continue like this. But who cares? It doesn't need to. I look in the direction of my ticket and find her awake, standing and staring at me. Great, she awoke earlier than she should've, and looks much healthier than I am, and to top it all off, she could've killed me if she wanted to.
[Your decision. You allowed that.]
She continues to stare at me with expectation. I need to take control before she does. I stand up.
"I saved you yesterday. Repay me with getting over the city walls."
"Promise to help me first."
"What?"
"Promise to help me."
Did she hit her head to hard? "Why should I?"
She continues to stare at me, minutes pass in absolute silence while we stare at each other. This clearly isn't getting us anywhere. Sigh.
"What exactly do you want?"
"I need you to go somewhere with me."
"Why?"
"Because I asked for your help." She says with a somehow questioning and authoritative look. As if the fact that I am asking it is ridiculous.
What the actual fuck. Because she asked for help? No, no, no, no. This is an overkill, this isn't worth it. I had enough problems so far, a mentally ill idiot will not become another one. As I walk away, she speaks quickly.
"If you don't I'll tell Uncle Yorgan."
"Haa?"
"Someone attacked the Emir's palace. The Emir's family's dismembered remains were found in the palace dungeon which as rumor says was used in dark rituals. Bodies of A class adventurers were found there too." She pauses for a few seconds, looking directly into my eyes and continues "Not many can do that." She takes a deep breath and continues.
"You're a Blood Brother, I saw the mark. You came to the city and the next day the dark cult was found. That's no coincidence." Still looking into my eyes as if she expects a change in my expression or a reaction.
"You must be from the Heretic Hunter group. My uncle, Lord Yorgan Kilfaros, is one of your captains. If you don't help me I will send a letter to him and you will be punished."
There is so much I want to say, but it's as if you're trying to squeeze something enormous through a small hole, everything gets stuck.
"Help me, please." She finishes with desperation.
This desperate stuck-up idiot with mental issues tries her best to seem like she's in control, but I can smell her fear. A strong headache pushes me too close to making a rash decision.
"We will talk after you get me over the wall." I squeeze out.
"No. Promise me that you will go together with me to Mozzarel. Promise me. Blood Brothers never break a promise."
It seems like I'm going to travel through it one way or another.
"I promise that I will travel to Mozzarel."
"Thank you." She says with a bright childish smile. "We will travel over the wall tomorrow night. I need to rest a bit more and get a few things in the city. The trip will be long and hard."
So my wrecked condition isn't taken into account.
[People will always think only about themselves.]
The fact that she knows, that the Emir family was part of the cult, means the information is public. It was made public on purpose, a tool to sway the masses to a new ruler more than likely. The city is going to hell faster than it should. I don't know what worries me more, the fact that an inexperienced, but powerful Wizard has the mental capabilities of a child and threatens me with "You bad. I tell mommy.", adding to that the absolute belief in "Blood Brother pinky promise" bullshit, or the fact that she doesn't know that Yorgan has been dead for at least the past five years.
...
Yorgan. He saved my life, several times in fact.
[Oh? Do you think helping her will repay the debt you owe him? Don't lie to yourself. He's dead, rotting in his grave, and there's nothing you can do to help him. Nothing.]
[Focus on your goals. There are still slavehouses in the city. Isn't this what you wanted to do? Who knows maybe the nightmares wont return. Right?]
...
I cleaned as much of the city as I could. I can't delay any longer, there isn't enough time left. Olana, the wind Wizard, helped me get the food and travel supplies. It was harder than one would expect. Buying anything is no longer possible, lack of clean water, groups fighting for power, desperation and utter chaos changed the city within a few days. Shops are closed, food is so scarce that people started killing each other for a few pieces of bread, and it's not just a few instances, the whole city is in such a state. Gold is worthless if you can't exchange it for goods.
Incredible what a small piece of information, a war, a few poisoned wells, and several dead people, rulers mostly, can do. It took one and a half days to gather all of the resources needed for travel. And a single night to free slaves. Funny thing was, freeing the slaves was the easier task.
The "acquired" horses, clean water, and food were quickly transported to the other side of the wall. We had to drug the horses as they don't take to flight too well, and any sound could be the end of the operation.
The guards with enchanted crossbows are serious problems. In close quarters I can "disable" them quickly, at a distance I can evade them, but at mid range they're deadly, especially if there are several of them. There's a guard with a crossbow every four meters on the wall, and you can't guess which one of them has the enchanted crossbow.
...
Olana cast a wind spell which took us all together and transported us as far as possible from the city walls. All-in-all she was able to hold on for a few minutes, but it was enough as we were roughly half a kilometer from the city. She said she was tired and that she isn't used to carrying so much weight with her spells.
Tired, huh.
Still trying to hold onto the status of a "powerful Wizard", but I don't care. I've seen many trying to pose as something they were not, and even those that represented something always tried to cast a bigger shadow, as if it would change what they really are.
We quickly woke the horses and started to travel. While I'm on horseback it's much easier to heal. Still, it doesn't change the fact that there's just too much to heal, my body is basically just one big wound.
...
Taking priority I healed my lungs first, with more oxygen moving through my body, it'll function better. In about a week we will get to Samolesh, the southern-most city of the Dead Desert. From then on it'll be a near straight shot. It's only spring, but the heat is already unbearable. I don't understand how people live in this region and don't lose their mind. Several "locals" thought a pair of traveling adventurers were easy prey. They were quickly proven wrong. The good thing is that you only need to prove them wrong once, the bad thing is that there are many that you need to prove it to.
[But who's counting the number of dead bodies we're leaving behind. Right? They're not people, or at least it's easier to think that way. How many fates we crushed, how many lives we destroyed.]
...
I didn't speak much with my "traveling companion", but her constant glances for the past few days have become quite tiring. Still, I will not start the conversation.
[You're doing your best to not address her by name. Still trying to think of her as nothing more than a temporary shadow? Just like we've done to everyone we met. By her behavior it's clear that she's a noble. But the fact that a noble wizard is traveling alone raises too many questions, and getting to Mozzarel definitely isn't the goal. Therefore, the question, what is it?]
Olana, as if finally gathering the courage and determination to speak, opens her mouth a few times before saying "Listen, I know that you're not allowed to discuss this stuff, but, my Uncle, do you know how..." She trails off.
I know exactly where this is going, and anything I say will only cause more questions, problems, and issues. I continue to look forward as if I never heard the question. After a few seconds of silence she continues.
"...Never mind. I shouldn't have asked."
Sometimes, the best answer is silence.
...
Life is a strange thing. We meet people we never expect to meet.
It looks like the group of the ogre, dwarf, and the elf somehow left the city too.They didn't do it alone, but that's normal, higher numbers increase the chance of survival. We all somehow found a small oasis in the middle of nowhere. They're extremely rare, and if people find them, they always try to rest there and replenish water supplies. It should've been a "happy" moment, where two traveling groups meet, a moment where we clap each other on the backs, congratulating each other that we survived and left the city somehow.
But it isn't.
When we arrived at the oasis everything was already finished, the desert centipede pack attack was repelled. Repelled, with a price. Out of fifteen people in the group that arrived, four lay dead. One of the dead was the dwarf, whose name I don't even remember. He lays on his back with a big bloody wound in the center of his chest, while the sand under him turns red. The ogre stands over the body of his comrade, while the elf is on his knees, weeping and laying over the body of the dwarf.
Not comrade, friends. Whatever they said or did, they were still together.
Till the end.
"Silo, we need to go." Said the ogre.
"Go?" Whispered the elf turning to the ogre. "Go where Metas? Liam died and you want to go?!"
"There's nothing we can do for him now."
"Nothing we can do? Is that all you can say?! You can't grieve him at all? Did you ever think of him as a friend!?"
The ogres eye shot open as he punched the elf in the face, sending him to the ground.
"He was as much your friend as he was mine!! You think I am not in pain, you think I..." He stops as tears stream down his face.
Life goes on.
People die every second.
[That's just a statistic. Every single one of them has a name, a family, friends and enemies, dreams and hopes, a story never told. But together they are just a statistic.]
I continue to stand and look as everyone around keeps moving, checking their gear and prepping, except for the duo crying with their dead friend on the ground.
Memories of me in a bloody uniform standing on a battlefield riddled with craters filled with fire, with pieces of my teammates laying around while legions march towards me. We were left to die, reinforcements weren't just late, they didn't exist in the first place. We were meant to die, to disappear, burying our secrets with us.
Returning from my memories, I see the ogre pick up the dwarf's body, and put it on a horse.
[Nice, isn't it? You're not the only one suffering, they're also in the hurricane of chaos and death we call life. They're as much alive as you are. You always tried to evade looking into people, as the more you look, the more you take it personally. You will try to understand them, help them, put yourself in their place. But don't look too deep, or we will lose the edge which we need to do what is required.]
[Do. Not. Forget. We are not allowed to die, the moment we die, HE will take control over this body. We need to make sure that not a single piece of this body remains. HE will spend every single fraction of his power to bend fate to get this body. And THEY ALL know this, and they are waiting for our death with glee.]
I can't die.
Not yet, not here, not now.
I don't want to see another day, there is nothing good waiting for me there.
I want to end it all now.
But I can't.
Death is easy, living is hard.
A new day shall come, and maybe, just maybe it will be different.
Hope is not much, but it's all we have.
Chapter Thirteen
Table of Contents
Chapter Fifteen
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