I sigh with forlorn emotions as I push whatever is welling up within me back down. Past traumas and feelings can wait. I've rested enough. The whole day was spent relaxing. Not even a single drop of blood was spilled, a first in at least a month. That's enough for now. I'll deal with the other stuff later. I did what Virgil and Earl asked of me—time to get to work.
Pushing the chair back, I stand and motion to Earl. He seems confused at first. But I call out to him, and he understands.
"We're needed. Johnny's holding a meeting. C'mon."
Elizabeth looks at the two of us getting up and attempts to stand. But the messenger that told me to come puts a hand on her shoulder and pushes her back down.
"Not you. You're too weak. This is a high-level meeting. Only the most important people can attend. Not even these two would show up if it wasn't for their unique abilities."
The young woman looks absolutely heartbroken at his words. Like he told her, she's worth as much as a pile of shit. My fingers itch at the chance to hurt the man for disrespecting her, but I hesitate. I'm unsure if it's the Bloody Palm or me that wants violence, and the emotions that I just shut down are only making things worse.
In typical Elizabeth fashion, thankfully, she recovers from her shock and rebukes the man before Earl or I can. The decision being taken away from me only makes it worse. I put my right hand around my left to stop it from shaking. I think the Bloody Palm has changed its method of attack.
"Yeah, is that so? Well, how about you go tell that to Sacate or Johnny? I'm sure they'd love to hear that their protege was told to fuck off."
The man puts his arms up and apologizes, but she interrupts him. Her words seem to really affect the man. More than they should from a woman weaker than him in Sigil.
"Protege? You're the one Sacate took to the black market? I didn't know you were close to these two. I'm sorry, I–"
"Then maybe next time, you best be more respectful to people. Don't go pushing them down or telling them they're worthless."
"That's not what I–"
I get between them with one hand, still strangling the other. I need to do something to push away this need for violence. However, my eyes stick to the man's jugular as I talk to him. The subject of my vision is impossible to consciously change.
"Stop. It's fine. Elizabeth, we need someone to watch Esther, anyway. Can you? We'll be back soon, I promise. I'll tell you all about it when we get back."
She gives me a stare, then shakes her head in frustration.
"Yeah, fine. But you're not keeping me out of anything, you hear? No leaving without telling me. No fighting without telling me. Nothing stupid without me. I want to join."
I put my right hand on her shoulder and nod. However, the feeling of my hand on her skin makes me grit my teeth as my left-hand clenches and shifts erratically. I think the Bloody Palm has got into me somehow. Less of a total takeover and more of a subtle invasion of my mind.
"I promise."
And with that, I quickly turn away. The first thing I do as I walk out of the hotel with the messenger is put my left hand in my pocket. The pale and ashy thing constricts and clenches without me telling it to as it wishes for violence.
Earl follows behind me, and so does Dakota. I consider telling him to stay for a moment, but I don't. I think I'm going to need him. The fox always brings me comfort. Maybe he'll help keep my demons at bay.
We spend a few minutes walking, each of which I struggle to get the Bloody Palm in control. I calm my emotions just before coming up to a tall building of stone, steel, and brick. The only facility of its kind in all of Rustbank gives an oppressive sense that helps with my mental state. A three-story tall construction of sturdy materials meant to defend against danger, weather, and anything else that may come. One of these buildings is made in every settled town.
They're called Gates. Dunno why. But they are.
In front stands one man leading on the wall of the building with a shotgun between his hands. The gun is abnormal, though, as it has three barrels instead of one. As I walk past, I give him a curious look, and he smiles at me, running his hand along his gun.
The sight makes me a bit uncomfortable, but I ignore it and continue into the building. The door is made out of heavy wrought iron, built to resist any amount of gunfire. The entrance and first impressions of the opening are barren. No furniture, no chairs, or anything. The only things that exist are empty wall stands on the walls and the occasional gas lamp.
Stands that remind me of those in Edmund's vault. Where weapons are stored. This must be where Johnny keeps his weapons. Although, there aren't many here right now. Most are probably being distributed out amongst the townsfolk for the break.
There is a central hallway to walk down and two side paths in front of us. Which do we take? I turn and look to my side to ask the messenger who led us here, but he now stands next to the man in front of the building. He gives us a wink and closes the iron door.
Earl beside me just shrugs and keeps walking down the hallway. I ask him what's up.
"You been in here before?"
He nods, and a slight sound comes from him. I can't see his face from here as he walks in front of me, so based on his voice, I can only guess he's laughing.
"Yeah. You're like a newborn everywhere you go, looking for someone to explain everything to you. Use your head. What happens when there is no one to explain everything to you? Think for yourself. I saw you look at those stands. What are they?"
I take a quick glance at them again.
"Weapon stands?"
"I guess that one was too easy. But yeah, they are. See? You don't need me or others to explain everything to you. C'mon, the door to the war room is over here."
"War room?"
"Eh, it's just what I call it. Feels like we're commanders or something."
I laugh at his reasoning and follow him inside as he turns the knob and opens the door.
The room is pretty dark, with a long table in the middle covered in maps, and only one person is inside it right now. Johnny. He sits at the far end of the table, writing something down without stopping at our entrance.
He only waves his free arm and acknowledges us. All the while, he keeps his eyes on the paper.
"Good. Sit wherever you want. The others should be here soon."
I look at Earl. He tilts his head at me as a smile crosses his face. Damnit. He's right. I ask anyway.
"Others?"
Johnny answers with his head down.
"The other people who will help the most with the break. I can't address every single person who is here to help. Most don't even care about the break and are only here for the chance to kill Hunters. Those who come are not that petty."
I sit in the middle, and Earl joins me in the seat beside me. About ten chairs remain. Ten more people? Who else is likely to come? I would say Primrose and Levi for sure, but one is injured, and the other is dead. I don't know many others.
Sacate, the man who took Elizabeth to get her Sigil, will probably show. Virgil and Vernon probably will, too; those two might only be here because of me, but they certainly won't miss out on a chance to kill monsters.
Other than that, I have no idea.
But I don't want to bother Johnny anymore, so I just stay quiet. After a few moments of silence, I pull out the book from Alexos. The journal from the First. I made that bet in jest with Earl, but I am serious about reading it.
Maybe within it somewhere is the secret of how to deal with Artifiction. If it could give Alexos confidence he could bring his family back to life, which is crazy, then maybe it can help me. After all, what can be crazier than having an unknown man's arm attached to you that wants to take your body?
I open the first page and then go straight to the second. However, my eyes brush upon the words "I am the Last."
What does he mean by that? How could he be the last? I flip back to the first page and endeavor to decipher his meaning. He said that he was the only one to survive an expedition, but the location to which he went is crossed out with dark ink, making it unreadable.
He also says he's the last of those who saved the world… What the fuck is he talking about? I get stuck on these few words.
After all, only I remain from the expedition into ~~~~~~. The last of those who saved the world. They call me the First for what I've done. But in truth, I am the Last. I am only the Survivor.
Every bit of it doesn't make sense, and I struggle to understand even a single sentence. I can only grasp a tiny bit. The First went somewhere with a bunch of other people a long time ago, but only he walked out alive. And he seems to carry guilt about that solely in how he writes about it.
I wonder where he went. Where could a man like him go with others and be reduced to a simple Survivor? Did he go to the depths of the Wilds? Did he see what lies on the other side?! Frantically, I turn the page to the second, curious to see if he continues on the next page. Sadly, it seems as though each page is different and that the first is only a rough overview.
I have been told many times that humans are weak and detestable. Every race seems to think so. From the Pygmies in their isolated valleys and caves to the demons in their hellish dens. Even the Nahullo look down on us with their remote yet warring nature.
They believe that because we are born unable to use, breathe, or even see Ether that we are simply meant to die. To be cattle. They have thought this for so long that even many of us believe the same. But I disagree. I have shown hundreds, no thousands, of demons the truth. Not possessing Ether for the first quarter of our natural lives is a blessing.
We may not have the natural talent of the demons, the cohesiveness of the Pygmies, or the fortitude of the Nahullo, but we do possess something far more critical. A deep-seated curiosity and desire for all things we do not have. And Ether is the greatest mystery and passion in the world to us.
Do not take it for granted. All that you can do with Ether is a miracle. But it is a miracle YOU can control. One that you can learn perfectly with enough inquisition. Ether is YOU. YOU are Ether. Chase the pinnacle with rapturous intent. Every act should be with defiance and heresy in your mind. Gods are false and deceitful. Alchemy and machinations are only a means. Artifacts and Heirlooms are merely distractions. Ether is the goal. It is the end. It is the all.
Only we, the forgotten, the left behind, know what it's like to be weak. Only we yearn for strength above all else. Only those that start at the very bottom can see the top of the great mountain we call power. I was born a simple man. I shall die as one. So will you, but that doesn't mean something great can't be achieved in the middle.
I finish the scribbled and old ink page just as people walk into the room. I ruminate on the words of the First as I inspect the new arrivals. It feels as though every single phrase from the First holds some deep meaning.
The following person after Earl and I to enter is a man with a serrated, bonesaw-like blade as a left arm. Instantly, I recognize him as Sacate, the man Elizabeth talked on and on about. How he's as swift as the wind, as strong as oak, and as calm as water. He seems to have some kind of danger sense. He's even able to heal people with his Ether.
I start the flow of Chain Eyes and keep it running as more people walk in.
Sacate's body is covered with a dark blue hue of restraints like Johnny's, with the mass of them being around his left eye. His chains are not as thick, though; perhaps the age difference makes Johnny's chains more restricting. They appear to be several years apart, at the very least, with Johnny being the senior. My focus, however, is really on Sacate's prosthetic arm, though. It kind of reminds me of the Bloody Palm.
The man born in the wilds gives me a subtle nod as he sits directly across from Johnny at the front of the table.
After him, a duo of redheaded men walks in, laughing as they do so. They don't appear to be siblings but have similar hair. They are both dressed in light clothing like ordinary civilians. Neither wear any armor as most do when they possess a Sigil. I don't because it's pointless. I get hurt so much that it would get ruined in ten minutes. After a second of inspection, I recognize the two as the men who dropped off Earl his disturbing artifact.
They sit side by side across from Earl and me. The one on the left reaches a hand over the table to shake with me. I meet him in the middle.
"Heya, I'm Otto; this one here is Marion. You must be Wyatt and Earl, right? Haven't formally met ya yet 'cause we were out steali–"
Marion, the man beside Otto, shoulder slugs him and corrects the man's speech in the middle of Otto's talking.
"Buying. We were busy buying weapons from townsmen."
I look at them two curiously, and Johnny speaks up before I can say anything.
"Stop fooling around, you two. This is serious. Lay what you got from the black market on the table. And after we're done, go return the shit you stole."
They both turn and look at the Gunfighter just to complain in sync.
"Awww. C'mon, Johnny. We got these fair and square!"
"Awww. C'mon, Johnny. We got these fair and square!"
"No, you didn't. You used my money and my connections. I'll have Frank do the same when he gets here. Bonfire as well. If I hadn't introduced you two over a year ago, I'd assumed you dumbasses were twins."
Otto and Marion smile crooked smiles with missing teeth as they pull weapons from pockets, pants, buckles, shoes, and hats. They are both missing teeth in opposite spots. It's pretty weird to look at as they remove weapons from all over their bodies. Otto even whips out a derringer from his underwear.
My sight doesn't fool me as I see both of these two are 4th Sigils despite their giggly nature.
We then share simple greetings as I review the items they put on the table. But before I can scan over the assortment of revolvers, deringers, lever actions, bolt actions, and even a gatling gun that Marion pulled out of a backpack, all of which possess Sigils, more people walk in.
Another duo walks in, but they are not talking to each other this time. One has short brown hair, and the other stark white with albino skin. The two seem to not like each other as the brown haired sits beside me on my left, and the other goes as far away as he can.
Johnny addresses them both, indirectly telling me who they are.
"Bonfire, Abraham. No fighting. And no illusions unless I say otherwise, Abraham."
The white-haired man harumphs and brings his knees up to his chest on the chair before sitting quietly. I quickly realize that one is Abraham as the man beside me shakes my hand.
"Hello there, you must be Wyatt. Name's Emmet Knox, but my friends call me Bonfire."
I shake his hand in return, but the pale-haired man in the back says something to Emmet before I can. There seem to be a whole lot of personalities in this room. Maybe too much for me. Bonfire and Abraham possess 4th and 5th Sigils, respectively, with turquoise chains wrapping their way around the second man and lime green chains around the first like pythons.
"Stop saying that to everyone. It's weird. Only your team calls you that. You guys and your weird fucking nicknames."
"They're not weird! They're cool! It's you and your stupid hallucinations that ar—!"
Johnny butts in, extinguishing the flame of Bonfire instantly with a knuckle to the table.
"Shut up."
The whole room goes silent after that. Then a moment later, Virgil appears in a seat near me, looking bewildered. Johnny looks up at him, the first time he even takes his eyes off whatever he is doing.
"No illusions. Only truth in this room."
I want to talk to Virgil, but I get the vibe that it's not the time. Everyone else is quiet.
Three more people stream into the room after and take their seats. All three of them have 4th Sigils within them. I immediately feel pretty small and weak. I can't imagine how Earl feels; he only has a single Sigil. We are seriously outclassed here.
The next three that enter are all hooded and hiding their faces. I can't even see a speck of their face. They sit quietly in a straight row, but Johnny tells them to pull down their hoods.
"Pull them down. Trust must be built. Most of you are new. Only a few have been with me a while."
The three hooded figures look back and forth before pulling their hoods down, revealing three blonde women with earrings of red daggers. They only nod and return to their silence.
After a few more moments of awkward waiting, a pair of footsteps and a rolling wheel sound out in the hallway before entering. In comes Primrose, in a wheelchair, being pushed by Dr. Heath. They both take their spots at the table; Primrose refuses any help as she forces her way to a seat from the wheelchair.
Then, finally, a final man made of muscle comes into the room, heaving and full of sweat. His body is covered with thick dark hair, and he looks more like a massive bear. His stature alone worries me if he'll even fit in a chair, not that there is even one left.
His head almost hits the ceiling! The man looks around briefly, glancing at all the full chairs before laughing a hearty bellow that seems to rumble against his green manacles.
"Ha ha. Frank will sit on the ground."
The massive man smiles and sets a colossal pack bulging with items on the table before sitting between Primrose and Heath. His frame touches Primrose's chair, eliciting a groan from the injured woman.
Frank quickly apologizes, however.
"Sorry. You should've moved."
I momentarily see Primrose's sickly pale skin fume red hot as she turns to him, but Heath puts his hand on her shoulder.
"It's Frank. Let him go."
After all the seats are filled, including the spot on the ground, and everyone is quiet, Johnny looks up from the page he's been writing on this whole time.
"Let's get started, shall we?"