Chereads / Tales of the First World / Chapter 16 - You can’t Trust your World

Chapter 16 - You can’t Trust your World

"Good morning to you all, both the faculty and my fellow students. My name is Vauntuss Strum, a Knight of House Strum. Born from a family that has served the rulers of the Falsetti Kingdom, but today I speak to you as a student of your Academy."

"Today marks the beginning of a new journey for all, not just the freshman. Most will be come to discover what it means to called Guardian, and others will find that question to be one you'll spend many years trying to answer."

"So I shall say this. Those of us that are here have a singular purpose, to ensure that our beloved kingdom continues to have a future. For we are as much symbols of that future as we are its greatest defenders."

"Thank you" An ovation permeating the entire quad erupted to signal the end of the speech after Vauntuss made his way down the stairs and blended back into the crowd.

Proceeding the calming of the audience, the students were told to enter the hall and remain seated until the lecturers had entered as well.

Shynerai saw a few unmistakable faces as he was waiting for the crowd in front of him to make progress into the hall.

Those that caught his attention were that of Vaceris and her friends, an unnamed red-haired girl and her friend as well as the young girl with silver hair. Unlike magic, what he took notice of was the pressure of their Physical Energy, akin to a wave of heat they gave off. 

But he was hesitant about engaging them, so he simply entered the hall. Once all the students had been seated nearly ten minutes had passed before they started to notice that none of the lecturers had arrived…odd considering that they were right behind them as they entered.

It wasn't long before they grew curious and a few of them began leaving their seats for the exit.

Those restless few found that the doors were all locked, one after the other they checked, and with each attempt, they grew more frantic as the rattling doorknobs began seeding panic in the hearts of the students.

Sudden screams and shouting that had erupted from the revelation quickly filled the hall's vast volume. As the insanity continued, some of the students decided to try and break down the doors.

Shynerai could only look from afar as the students prepared their assault…but everything suddenly fell to an uneasy quiet as the faint sound of whirling gears and fan-blades began billowing from inside the halls.

It wasn't long before they took notice of it but by then it was already too late.

The thick sanguine miasma encroached upon the room from all directions, easily flooding the lungs and bodies of students…those that tried to find an escape or attempted to filter their breath acted too late as within only moments the miasma had completely saturated the room.

Though to their surprise, the bloodied clouds did little to harm them, aside from some difficulty breathing…that is until piercing shrieks erupted suddenly from one of the students amidst the chaos.

With their sights frantically switching between each student, looking for the source of the unsettling cries.

When finally their eyes settled on her tear-stricken cheeks and a voice running horse as her throat began withering from her cries, she pleaded in desperation with the horrors assaulting her to leave her alone.

Alone she sat there, but that's just it…she was alone, so what had she been pleading with so desperately.

All around the hall, student after student quickly began to succumb to the sanguine miasma…giving rise to the orchestral mania—all save for a few.

Several students were able to stave off the madness only barely gasping for air as they drew in the polluted bloodied clouds with each breath, sadly Shynerai was not one of them.

The terrors of the journey he made home eight years ago soon overtook him...the burning sensation of the miasma was reminiscent of the coughing that stifled each weary breath he struggled to take into his exhausted body that had rushed home only to be met by the desecrated corpses of his family.

Gripped with the unforgiving reminders, insanity easily consumed him as he could do nothing but remain frozen, with a twisted expression that ran cold with streaks of suffering covering his cheeks…he felt nothing…except for those feelings that he wished he had forgotten.

In the moments that felt unending, he let out a faint cry…wishing for all of it to stop…why? He asked himself repeatedly as his mind moved back to the horrors that were still consuming

"The door—"

The sight of home, the feeling of the metallic doorknob in his soaked hands, he almost instinctively knew what came next —Shynerai lashed with a horrific screech, now seething with rage and hatred, he began to burn.

As quickly as he had let loose his wrath, flames started encroaching upon him, slowly engulfing his entire body.

The bloodied miasma started burning away…with the sound of the crackling flames dispelling the cloud of nightmares that enveloped his mind.

With some semblance of sanity slowly returning to him, he realized that the flames though burning were entirely cool to the touch. With the haze clouding his senses almost destroyed, he was finally able to recognize the strange fire.

"Beowulf?" He asked himself, staring intently at the familiar flames.

With the fires spread across his body, from greaves and gauntlets that had unconsciously spawned.

His distress called upon the Word of Power, but this hadn't happened before…not that he remembered. The holy flames of Beowulf quickly sought after and destroyed the last remnants of the miasma…but the act managed to drain a lot of the strength he had.

But having escaped the grip of the nightmares, he welcomed the respite.

As the last of the fiery wisps of the incantation faded away, he made his way through the chaos and back to his seat as he calmed his breathing in preparation for meditation…all the while the miasma still saturated the air.

Any attempts to escape in his weakened state would be crushed as the slow-moving mist had worked well to cripple them, so Shynerai took to the other alternative, meditation—choosing to instead focus his mind not on what he was being shown but on the present moment.

Naturally, this came with great difficulty as the horrors were still trying gnawing at him along with the symphony of tortured shrieks and cries of his fellow students…through it, all was his focus, the only thing keeping the flooding darkness at bay.

Forty-five minutes of wailing of agony had passed.

Soon enough time had passed for the ceiling and walls of the hall to be lost behind the sanguine veils of the harrowing clouds with Shynerai and several other students had managed to acclimate to the situation, all the while the rest continued heaving against their laborious breathing.

By now Shynerai no longer needed to meditate…his thoughts were focused and as such it became clear for him to discern reality from the nightmares—though their calls remained ambient.

What remained of the struggling students lay catatonic with tears filling their bloodshot eyes and a cold trail of saliva oozing from their mouths…accompanied by the momentary twitches that would strike their body.

By the time an entire hour had elapsed, what few students that managed to stave off the effects of the miasma seemed to no longer experience any of the horrors, through the harsh exposure they manage to build a mental resistance through the constant punishment. 

Still, they had all but reached their limits, as their bodies were finally giving way under the strain of fatigue.

With the last of them finally falling to their knees and passing out suddenly, the whirling fans and gear whose sounds had filled the background had come to a complete stop before quickly starting up again, with thin rays of light peering through the windows and piercing the bloodied clouds.

It wasn't very long till the last crimson wisps were drawn out of the auditorium, leaving the room breathable and bringing calm to it as the gears halted—though no students stood awake to witness this.

The doors of the hall flew open as a team of medical staff rushed in carrying much-needed aid.

Leading the wave of white coats and masks was Dr. Arturion, he ordered them to take all the students to the infirmary for treatment along with an additional order to send all students that managed to wake up in the next half an hour to the Emergency Treatment Centre, the largest section of the school's Medical Ward.