Tall trees surround me, and twisted thick roots protrude everywhere in view. And it's all just that, along with the dense fog shrouding the atmosphere. No animals, no other objects, no one. Nothing else. Completely alone, yet I remain unbothered — not even by the cold. I saunter on the uneven loose ground with no clue of directions but my instincts to trust. No sunlight even appears from the skies to guide me. Then I come upon a passage, a cave with nothing to see through but pitch-black darkness. I stand yards away from it, not even bothering to decide whether to approach or walk away from it as it's bringing itself closer and closer until I'm swallowed by its voidness.
Now, I'm alone in a tunnel. Protruding crystals line the walls, none reflect any sort of light, yet they somehow shine. I turn my gaze in the opposite direction where I see light at the far end, not so bright to have me assume it is the way out. I follow it anyway. I slowly begin to hear rushing water as I walk closer until I find myself directly looking at two formations of rocks, one protruding above the cave ceiling where water appears to be falling from and one emerging from the waters below. At the point where the rocks meet is an object that is too far for me to recognize. It only flickers like the rest of the crystals embedded in the cave walls.
My curious mind wanders with the thought of getting close to it. But how? That is when from the waters below, small shaped rocks begin emerging, wet, but not so slippery, filling the gap between me and the glimmering object as a staircase. They remain afloat in a staircase path, allowing me to take the first step, then the next one. I continue, drawing myself closer to the object that persists in shining and starting to become figurable with its shape and form. It's nothing else but a sword, both the handle and its blade partially hugged by the rocks intact. It's dark in color, and crystal-made but cast no reflections. I lift a hand slowly to touch its glassy surface. But once the tip of my fingers makes contact with the handle, the cave begins rumbling loudly. So loud that the walls begin tearing apart until nothing else remains but the sword now fully in my grasp, and the view that makes my eyes hurt and well with tears.
Lands being torn apart by arcs of nightmarish purple light erupting the earth, along with flares of devilish red and yellow smothering everything along its path with scorching fire from the burning skies. They're obliterating patches of natural landscapes and man-made structures into nothing. They even fail to obscure the distant agonizing screams of people. They're dying.
My legs remain frozen but I still feel my grasp around the sword as I take in the chaos my eyes are capturing. I lift the blade to my face and its glass-made surface now reveals a reflection of my own silhouette, and radiating from the very outline is the same evil light from the horizon. I risk turning my head, only to find worse horrors that couldn't be comprehended into words.
I jolt awake, but I instantly regret it when the cramps all over my legs and a searing headache strike me. My whines only turn out as rasps sounding like a rusted squeaking gear, whilst my body remains locked in place upon a soft foamy surface. I see nothing but moving blurred figures and patches of refracted dim light as I weakly squint my lids. My hearing catches indistinct chatters that seem to worsen the banging pain in my head.
One voice begins to clear up as they approach close range, and with one long shut of my lids, I'm hearing the clear familiar voice of my friend. It's Grace.
"Kyvin," She calls and I open my eyes now with the blurriness subsiding off the corners of my peripheral where I see her clear guise.
"Grace," I say in nothing but air, whilst my vision begins registering the environment. I'm on a bed surrounded by ash-grey curtains, barely caging the familiar daylight from behind my head. The luminescent liquid contained lamps hung on the high stone ceilings, not contributing to light the rest of the place. However, none of it gives me clues as to where I actually am. My eyes then trail the tubing that is attached to the back of my hand from the fluid-contained bag hanging upon a standing pole, then to my frame where my arms, chest, and abdomen are wrapped with blue bandages, which I somehow figured are pain-relieving fabrics.
"Hey," Grace greets wearing a smile of relief.
"Where am I?" I croak this time, feeling my throat scratch with dryness.
"Sanctuary Camp," She replies and I try to put myself up in a sitting position without even letting the rest of my nerves retrieve their senses which only had my limbs feeling static surges of discomfort. She must've noticed the reaction on my face and rather helped me.
"What happened?" I mutter, feeling my dry lips scrub against one another as I shut my eyes once more, letting my head recover more energy for me to think and recall memories.
"You've been out for forty-four hours," She says. "Your body was giving up when they found you. Dehydrated, low heart rate, blood pressure, sugar level, everything. So, they had to put you under confinement."
What does she mean by that? Looking at her, my head is blasted. Alek… Alek! He's the first to emerge in my thoughts. The hysteria comes back in the form of tears.
"Alek!" Instead of a shout, it merely came out as a loud whisper and my throat ached. "Where is he? Where are they?" I skip a breath and I am hardly breathing with tears coming from my eyes, and my body trembling.
"I'm sorry, Kye," She only says, tears welling in her eyes while she rests her hands on my bare shoulders and tries to calm me down, yet my hysteria remains unrelenting.
"They already have him in a casket at the funerals. You can visit him as soon as you recover."
So, it's real. They're gone. My godfather's gone, and I'll never see him again. So, would Alice.
"I tried," I wail. "I tried but—"
"Kyvin, you did what you could—"
"What about Alice?" I cut her. "And the others?"
"They're okay," She answers. "The aiders said they'll be fine."
Hearing her say that does give some ample amount of relief, but it doesn't help subside the rest. And she sounds like she wants to avoid the discussion for me, but I can't help it.
"No," I say, shakily. "I could've done better… They shouldn't have died if I did something."
"Kyvin, stop," Grace mutters in concern. "Don't make it worse for yourself."
I let her rest my head back down on the soft pillow. My cheek is already soaked in tears and I'm still a wavering wreck like a kid stranded under the rain. Flashbacks play before my eyes, the way their lives have been taken. They're all like day horrors haunting me right now, and I don't know how I will handle them for the rest of my life. I try to hold myself together, taking deep breaths to release the tension. It did subside somehow, though my tears continued falling.
In a matter of minutes, I'm calm again. My eyes remain upon the ceiling whilst my heavy thoughts wander. Then the curtains before my bed slide open and come in a moss-colored suited male, a worker in the Sanctuary. Following behind him is the familiar semblance of a woman, her wings at rest behind her back and the small feathers protruding out of her light brown hair. Echidna. Her eyes rested on me, almost fully recovered from being red and sore, which shows it also devastated her, and somehow I could see the judgment she was giving on my unpleasant look. At least that's what I think.
I turn my gaze down to hide the guilty emotion still lingering on my face.
"How are you doing?" I hear her say whilst the Aider fiddles upon the bandages around me. I expect her to be angry because she has every right to be.
"Fine." I'm not.
"Alice is recovering," She says, proceeding to stand next to my friend. "She lost a lot of blood, but don't worry. They already had it taken care of. And Mikael is looking out for her." The Wolf-Breed must have recovered fast. I'm glad about that. "Daniel recovered from his concussions, as well." So that's his name. I'm glad he's doing better. She then saunters a bit closer. "I'm sorry about Alek. I know how much he meant to you, and he meant a lot to us as well."
"I could've done better." My voice trembled to say those words.
"You did what you could," She says. "You brought them back, and I couldn't be more thankful for that." Even though Mikael helped out the most.
"Not all of them," I say. She did not have any more words said after and only remained standing next to Grace. Perhaps maybe she is not mad at me. But no matter how much her words meant that I can't let myself be under these faults, they'll be engraved above me for a long time. Long, long time. Now, I understand why many enlisted soldiers rather choose to be Wall Sentries than Front Soldiers, even though I wanted to be one of those scouting the sands in the first place.
I feel Grace have her comforting hand on my bandaged wrist.
"As soon as they found you," Echidna begins again. "They decided to trail back to where you went from. And they found the Hellion…" My ears are on her, no word barely being registered, however. "That somehow turned out to have been killed by you."
Then those words have more glimpses of memories returned and have me get kicked by my own realization. I killed a Hellion — not just any Hellion, but a new one. The way I fought it. I remember the devilish purple glow that crawled out of my skin. The warm sensation, the light feeling of my body, the peculiar presence of an out-worldly power that surely no other race possesses. I remember it all, and even how the cut on my hand disappeared like it was never there, now that I'm looking at it.
I'm human, born a human, nothing more. Or am I even at this point? I can't tell. But for sure, it is something that no other beings in this world have. Not even any of the Ordinals still live and have passed.
"And they didn't stop there. It didn't fully decimate itself into ashes as it should have. So, hey brought its remains back to Otima for assessment," Grace adds and I'm ever more perplexed. "How did you kill it, Kye?"
"I—" I pause, still trying to understand. And by her last sentence, I assume that the investigation went fast. "I don't know…" The way I sound is like I'm admitting to it. I am because I was aware of myself doing it. But how exactly?
"An Ordinal demands to see you because of that," I dart my eyes at her in a flash after those words come out. News spread in the blink of an eye. Of course, they'll know. They're entitled to know — almost everything that is happening in the world, most especially within the Barrier. And I'm a part of it now. "High General Canmore did her best because you're still too unstable and need more time to recover," She adds. "But they deemed it necessary as soon as you regain consciousness."
If I'm to be asked questions regarding what I did, what answer am I supposed to give when I don't even know how I did it? But what choice do I have? And since everyone is just as curious as I am, I might as well cooperate.
"Which Ordinal is to see me?" I ask.
Before she could answer, the sudden ease of the ambiance as the dungeon doors open fetches our attention. Footsteps approach and mutter from people beyond my area come along sounding suspicious of whose presence has arrived. Until emerges before the curtains are the familiar face of High General Canmore, and behind her is a man. Tall, young-looking in his centuries of existence, and bright porcelain skin, fairly clad in dark-blue armor upon his knightly coat suit. His long, braided, pale hair tucked behind his pointy ears like a tiara, gave enough view to make out his bright blue gaze. His very presence serves as recognition of his identity, belonging to the legion of the most powerful knights, and being the only rune mage, called Rune Writer, in Midterra. Finnobair. Ordinal Twenty-First.
My eyes then settle back to the High General, the judgment barely clear on her face upon my unpleasant look on this bed. I can determine it is more of concern, even though her entire expression is still of the authoritative semblance she always holds and it is an unusual thing to see.
"Private Kyvin Licht?" The Ordinal says.
There's a short duration of silence before I answer, nodding. "Great legionnaire," I address.
"I will be your escort to the Legionnaire Citadel, in order of the Third Ordinal." Grace and Echidna's demeanors change quickly into confoundment after hearing the Elf Knight's words whilst I remain still. What does he mean by that?
"With all due respect, Great Legionnaire," I notice Grace jump from her seat. "May I ask why? Did he do something wrong? I thought you'd only ask him a few questions here." Fear and concern are somehow prominent in her voice, whilst I have already comprehended what was happening.
I'm going to Otima.
Before I react, the High General speaks.
"He didn't commit anything criminal," She answers Grace, then reveals an object that I did not notice she had been carrying upon their appearance. A parchment rolled and locked with a leather-made string and a pendant, engraved with a not very common Ordinal Legion sigil — a sword behind an inverted triangle with a single vertical line within — which means its script is something neither of arrest or consent, but rather something else. The Faun lady need not have it open and enunciate the writings as it is obvious to me what kind of scroll it is. An Invitation Scroll. "Ordinal Three just wants to see him." Then she turns to me. "And ask a few questions that surely will help us know about the new Hellion that you've managed to slaughter."
"And by that, it means your presence is necessary," Ordinal Twenty-One clarifies. That means I can't reject such a request.
In the corner of my eyes, I see Grace sink back to her seat. "If you'll allow, I would like to come with him."
"The Third Ordinal only requires the Soldier's presence, as said in the invitation."
Grace is silent once again, knowing she's given no other choice but to obey. I merely suggest to her a look of appreciation for trying. She doesn't have to, really.
"I'll be fine, Grace," I say to her with a tint of assurance upon my face, and she turns to me with the same look of concern, unconvinced. "There's no harm." In her eyes, doubts linger. She really doesn't want to let me go alone. "Before we go, I'd like to ask for permission to visit my godfather's funeral."
"If it were my invitation, I would allow it," The Ordinal says. "But I'm afraid to admit that it is beyond my authority. Your arrival at the citadel is deemed necessary and immediate."
That only disappoints me, yet I can't complain. I'm sorry, Alek…
"You are to be discharged today," The Ordinal says. "Just outside the Sanctuary is my company. I'll be waiting." Then he leaves without even letting us gesture the formal respects every person should do before an Ordinal.
The Aider eventually leaves as well, obviously to manage my discharge. It's just me and my friend, Echidna, and the High General.
Otima… I'm going to revisit Otima. And not just there, but at its heart where the Citadel of the Ordinal Legion lies, where I'm to greet the Third Ordinal for the first time as well. It's rare for him to be seen in public for reasons unbeknownst to anyone else, besides the others of his liking. For now, I somehow do not feel doubting or any other spontaneous feelings as a result, and it is unusual.
"Leave us for a moment," The High General says to the two Ravenbirds, and they comply.
Once the two of us are the ones remaining, she walks close next to my bed. I sigh and squint my eyes a few times, feeling the eye bags still fresh and raw from exuding tears. The despair starts to kick in again with those inescapable glimpses. Sarah's painful screams. Jameson's blood. Philbert's trembling fingers. Jaden's body blighted to zero recognizability. Alek…
"I can hardly understand what happened…" She says. "I'm truly sorry for your loss."
I hold my gaze straight at her, confusion momentarily lingering in my water-clouded eyes.
"It's hard to lose soldiers, especially one like your godfather," She adds. "But what you did out there…" She pauses. "Is something that you — and only you're capable of understanding. Remember that."
Just like that, she turns sauntering outside the curtains as the same Aider, along with Grace, comes back with another set of Front Soldier garments folded in her hands. And I'm left here thoughts hanging onto the High General's words. What did she mean by that? What was she trying to tell? Only I'm capable of understanding…?
Once the Aider has finally said that I'm free to leave, I retrieve the suit from Grace and make my way to one of the Sanctuary's nearby dungeons meant for personal cleaning. Lockers and even isolated showers exist.
In the reflection of the wide mirror, the bandages remain hugging around the corners of my muscles. It did its job well in removing most of the distress interrupting my proper movement in just almost two days. I feel little to no left, and maybe in a few hours, I'll be fully recovered. I wish it also had the ability to help me cleanse the terror of the events still running astray in my head… Or nightmares, rather. And the grief, even. I can still feel them crawling over my nerves just by looking at my face in the mirror, and I know there's nothing I can do to get rid of them.
I'm sorry, I think, guiltily. That phrase seems to keep repeating on its own.
Gently, I unwrap the bandages one by one, the dry atmosphere welcoming my skin upon exposure. Somehow, I feel much more comfortable without them despite the remaining muscle pain. When I'm about to remove my dirtied pants, I feel a stiff bump upon the fabric of my pants on the side of my hip. The ring.
Unzipping the pocket it is kept in, I retrieve it to the middle of my palm. Suddenly I remember the moment I had with him days ago Alek before we went onto the sands. The disappointment on his face upon taking it from my fingers, where it had more meaning behind it. I sensed how much he wanted to give it to the woman he really cared about. Yet, he's not here anymore to give it himself. But I promised to give it to Alice. Yet how? What face am I to show to her? I can already imagine the hatred and anger she is to throw at me once she wakes and knows everything. I can't leave it to Echidna or Mikael, especially since they don't know anything about it. I might only fail Alek if I do so.
The cold water raining from the showerhead welcomingly grazes my nude body, letting it do the work of removing the unsolicited dirt that had been loafing for a while on all corners of my fairly tanned skin. The chilling contact upon my head evenly washed and relieved some of the persisting tension. There's even sand on my scalp. After that, I spend a fair amount of time scrubbing with soap, then quickly drying myself to suit up and fixing the rest of my semblance. I give the ring one last look before again storing it back in my pocket. The last thing to do is neatly roll the bandages together, either I keep them for free or return them. The workers here don't mind.
Upon my exit is the long hall leading to the main one where at the end, I see Grace and Echidna together having an indistinct chatter. Once I reach them, Echidna asks, "Do you want to see Alice?"
I look at her for a second, then answer, "I don't think I could, yet."
"I understand," She only says.
For now, I'll have to present myself to the Third Ordinal. We walk our way towards the building's exit, having to pass several halls and chambers and walk down the solid stairs. My mind wanders to where Alice might be. I only hope for her sooner recovery.
Once I find ourselves already on the outskirts of the Sanctuary — sprawling with grass and stone paths — a majestic creature comes into view, armed with a pair of bird-like wings with the body of a reptilian, and a triplet of barbed tails. Glowing dust danced along the horizontal crevices lining its long neck up to the two pairs of ivory horns, vibrating along the silent purrs escaping its serpent muzzle as it let its golden-scaled skin glimmer under the warmth of the familiar afternoon sun. It's a Wyrbird. A mythical creature older than Kalvar's expansion, which is also before even the Ordinals came to the world, capable of going places one after the other in just a heartbeat with its clear recognition of the physical world.
Before the creature, the High General is seen poised on her standing legs, turning to see us upon our appearance. Three feet from her side is the same Ordinal Twenty-First, ever stern with his solid authoritative guise. Upon close encounter, I trade gazes with the High General, clueless as to what is to say.
"He'll be returned in no time," The Ordinal enunciates, pulling my attention to him.
"We're in great gratitude to have your presence, Great Legionnaire," the High General says after giving a venerated nod.
With not much time to waste, Ordinal Twenty-First mounts upon the back of his companion. I struggle to decide which to step on first before having myself sitting comfortably. There's no saddle, no straps, no nothing to hold onto. Perhaps because they aren't to be treated the same as other common mounting animals. Suddenly, I feel the buttocks shift weight upon the beast as if I'm glued all of a sudden. But, I somehow feel safer now. I'm only clueless if it were one of the things it can do, or if it's the Ordinal's enchantment.
I give my comrades one last look as they begin stepping backward. To Echidna, my eyes say, I'll see you around. To Grace, I merely nod, and she returns the same gesture. And lastly, to the High General, whom I'm only reminded of the words I heard from her earlier. She holds an expression without any meaning. I should be saluting to her, though it's already too late as the creature's big wings are already gathering air beneath us, its legs losing touch with the green soil. And just that, we're ascending the skies.
Our altitude increases and the ground shrinks further in my vision, not even overwhelming me with the height. I feel us begin to swerve and increase speed, making my hair billow wildly and my eyes flutter shut so that I'm forced to block my face with my wrist.
My ears' attention is then drawn by the roar of the beast, combined with a loudening whirring sound as it is charging energy. Then, boom! It shoots through the clouds ahead and a bluish light forms, still with us approaching it. I don't know what is to happen next, yet I remain calm until I suddenly see the landscapes below shift many times, from the view of the Barrier's walls, then a different city, like turning a book page back and forth. With one last shift, I'm gazing upon the majestic city of Otima.