Argo's mother moved swiftly, disappearing in a blur. Grabbing his father by the scruff of his shirt, her beautiful expression contorted into one of rage. He was helplessly lifted to his feet, with his legs dangling despite being taller then her.
"What demonic ideas did you impart into my son?! Speak dammit!" As she was shaking him by the neck, his face started turning pale. Argo was about to speak in attempt to save his father from strangulation, but was harshly cut off. "Nothing out of you, Argo."
"Can't...can't breathe," his father said through forced breaths. His face was slowly turning a deep shade of purple.
"Oh," she replied with a deadpan expression. Unbefitting a wife, she dumped him on the chair coldly.
His father collapsed into his chair greedily gulping the air. His expression flashed, a devious smile gracing his face. "I told him how you used to beat me up." Argo sensed that was the worst statement he could've followed up with.
Her scarlet hair flared, her eyes glowing a dangerous hue of crimson reminiscent of blood. The domineering aura from before had returned in full force. The furniture shook, the entire cabin creaking under the tremendous strain.
Argo had grown somewhat used to it, catching dishes that threatened to fall to the floor. He did a silent prayer for his father, hoping he would survive her wrath.
"Oh? Used to? That's strange, I can start again if you like." Argo's mother declared vehemently, taking slow steps toward her husband.
"Son, help me!"
Argo shut his eyes, pretending to be a spectator. He had suffered the intensity of her aura this afternoon, and was not willing to be subjected to another beating any time soon. After all, he was the victim in this case.
***
The following day, Argo was with his mother in the nearby woods. They were splitting logs into usable firewood, which would let them stay warm through the winter. Argo didn't know how they knew when the seasons would change, but obliged nonetheless.
He attributed it to the strange screen that would appear before them every now and then. He would broach the subject about what it was, but like other things, they would dance around the topic. He wasn't sure if what they were hiding was important, but he didn't like being left out of the loop.
It was early in the morning, the sun barely peaking over the horizon. A thin fog pervading the air, making it difficult to see in front of you. Argo felt slightly tired from waking up so early, but the cold morning dew quickly sobered him up. He had never been a morning person, but his parents always forced him to do this and that.
Glancing at his mother, he observed her clothing. She wore a thin jacket over a simple beige blouse and pants. He wondered how she wasn't cold, was she really superhuman? And shouldn't his father do such labor work? His concerns were quickly dispelled when her axe moved in one fluid motion, splitting the wood in neat halves. Whenever her arms moved ,the air would split- producing faint aftershocks.
Argo raised his own axe, mimicking her movements as he began splitting logs. While going through the motions, and kneeling to replace the log, he noticed a necklace dangling from around his neck. He frowned, unsure about where its origins or when he started to wear it.
Turning to his mother, "Hey, mom do you know what this is?"
"You don't remember? Your father gave it to you, I'm not exactly sure what it does either." She responded half-heartedly, focused on the decimating the wood. Argo had a strange feeling she was picturing his father as the wood, releasing her frustration on the poor thing.
As he continued cutting wood, the image of the broken sword materialized in his mind. Maybe he'd ask his father later about what it meant. Too bad he was sleeping soundly, despite suffering the beating from his wife last night.
Argo had experienced the strange visions last night as well, his nightmares painted with a film of darkness. This time it centered around an enigmatic girl, whose appearance was blurry and indistinct. He had a vague feeling she possessed an elegant beauty, and was in danger? Argo shook his head to dispel his wandering thoughts.
He felt a strange sense of tranquility trinkle into his being. Monotonously splitting wood with his mother in the early morning light, with the occasional chirping of the early birds and calm lake enshrouded his mind in peace.
Taking in a breath, he felt an urge to learn more about his mother. It was strange because he had been living with them throughout his whole life. But at the same time he felt he didn't really know her at all. Truly a weird contradiction he couldn't wrap his head around. Maybe it was because he couldn't sleep at night?
"Mom, what were you like back then? Before father and I?" Argo asked. Maybe she could help jog his memory, and shed the uneasiness that was wrapping him in a tight grip.
Her scarlet brows twitched, the axe stopping an inch before striking the lumber.
"Why do you want to know?"
"I don't know, just curious."
"Just curious, huh. You've been acting awfully strange recently." Nonetheless, she rested the axe on her shoulder before chuckling. "An ostentatious brat."
Argo's brows knitted in confusion, not knowing what 'ostentatious' meant. His parents had educated him enough for him to read, write, and speak fluently. But there were still sophisticated words that eluded his knowledge.
Noticing his perplexed expression, "Ah, we'll go with spoiled."
"Unlike your father who strived to avoid the spotlight, attempting to live a life of boredom, I strived to captivate the world. My ambitions for strength was fueled by arrogance and my parent's desire for power. Ha, looking back at it now its really funny."
Whenever they referred to their past, it always mentioned their parents and by extension a clan. They always seemed to talk about it like a joke, shedding a laugh or too. Argo found it strange they could refer to their perceived dark past with such liveliness.
"You know I was truly an unparalleled power back in the day? 'The Scarlet Angel' I was called, leaving devastation in my wake!"
Argo couldn't help but inwardly cringe at her shamelessness. "Are you some sort of hero?" Argo mocked, finding that she was praising herself a little comedic.
His mother's haughty expression quickly melted like she was joking, replaced with a serene peace. "But I realized a life of boredom isn't so bad, and your father might have been right. Might have."
She glanced at Argo before smiling, "But having you a boring life is definitely nice."
Argo's ears turned red as he resumed cutting wood to alleviate his embarrassment. It felt like he was feeling something he'd never felt before, it was a strange feeling. "I asked dad, but do you think I can become as strong as you guys? He talked about protecting others over yourself, which confuses me."
His mother tilted her head, "It's quite obvious. Protect others over yourself." She replied with a dead-pan expression, like he had asked a strange question. When she noticed he was still lost in thought, she elaborated. "It's a little confusing, and has a mixed meaning. What's he's trying to say is this: grow stronger for the sake of protecting those you cherish. When they're in danger, put them above yourself."
Argo felt a little big of the fog in his head clear, but couldn't truly understand her intentions. He had never met anyone besides his parents that he felt were worth protecting. Even then, their strength far exceeded his. He also felt it was a little unnerving, talking about sacrificing yourself for others.
***
When the sun reached its peak, rising high in the sky, did his father finally wake. Despite spending an hour getting ready, his appearance was still sloppy much to Argo's exasperation. He wondered how he could sleep for so long. He didn't really do anything physically demanding, and yet slept like he had waged a war.
After showering, he approached his father concerning the sword pendant. Even after bothering his mother for the latter half of the morning, she still didn't know it's purpose.
"Huh? I gave you that old trinket? I forgot, haha!" With a jovial attitude, shamelessly tousled his hair.
Met with his nonsensical attitude, Argo couldn't find the right words to berate his poor excuse for a father. After leaving him with those parting words, Argo still felt the necklace was important. He might be playing it off, but he knew his father was anything but simple. He did have his moments of idiocy and languidness, but that only covered a deeper interior.
As they were eating lunch, his parents were reminiscing about an event that happened a while back. He could remember the moment, when his mother and father had a small argument like yesterday, but it was much more embarrassing.
'Yeah, that time when-.' Argo's thoughts froze, the smile slowly gracing his face quickly disappearing. He couldn't remember. Like the dreams from before he felt his memories slipping through his fingers. It left him feeling empty and hollow, and his frown deepened.
'What is happening to me?' He questioned inwardly, the uneasiness that had been bubbling inside of him rising to the surface. He thought it was his imagination, or the result of his lack of sleep. But as time progressed, it was getting more intense.
"You okay?"
His father's warm voice prompted Argo to look up, tears gathering the corner of his eyes. He touched the side of his face, confused by his emotions. A feeling of melancholy rolled through Argo, leaving him confused.
"I've never met you, have I?" The words left his mouth leaving Argo stunned by his own words. Argo didn't quite understand it, but he couldn't recall any memories of the father in front of him. He was supposed to be his father, but his memories from before yesterday afternoon eluded him. Same for his mother he had no recollection of her at all. Despite that, Argo continued living his life as if it didn't matter.
His memories had no recollection of such people.
The man laughed, "Did you hit your head somewhere? Need your mother to take a look at you?"
Watching Argo's expression not change, the man's smile disappeared. A sense of solemnness passed over his features, and he touched his chin.
"You've never met me, huh." The man commented, his expression remaining relaxed. The woman had also adopted an uncertain expression, her outward demeanor suggesting she thought it was a joke.
Pausing, he continued "I'm not sure what's troubling you. But I'm sure it'll all turn out just fine."
"How do you know?" Argo felt he still possessed his laid-back attitude, but his stark demeanor quickly put such feelings to rest. It left him feeling slightly calmer.
"I just do."
Feeling a shift in the air, Argo noticed a pulsating light in the center of his body. It started as a weak heartbeat, before progressively increasing in intensity. The light was dazzling, a prismatic orb filled with a multitude of colors.
'The Miracle...' An instinctive thought appeared in his mind, and Argo felt sadness overtaking his body. His memories slowly returned to his head, alleviating the suffocating feeling that was burdening his body.
The Tower of Halcyon. The First Floor. The Isles of Endless Night. Faye. The Catacombs of Yore.
'This world is fake. The Miracle is trying to help me.' Truly befitting a power capable of changing fate, and worthy of the divine. His Inherent was anything simple it seems. Either he had somehow unconsciously activated it, or it had moved on its own. In either case, he felt [Enhancement] was being used on his soul- or something related. It strengthened his clarity, and allowed him to understand the situation around him.
With his mind whirling from the sudden injection of memories, he tried to collect his thoughts. [The Miracle] was an enigmatic ability, even going so far as to help him in this strange world he was in.
"Hey, lunch is ready!" His mother forced Argo out of his stupor as dishes graced the table. Argo tearfully looked at his mother. He tried to ingrain her being into his memory, hoping he wouldn't forget her. Scarlet red hair, long eye lashes, and eyes mirroring that of his own. A boisterous lady exuding elegance, who seemed to love him dearly.
He turned to his father, who watched him with a carefree expression.
Short white hair, silver eyes, and a rugged complexion. A lethargic man who lived freely, but would become serious when necessary. A pillar of support and wisdom, someone who was much more then meets the eye.
Argo felt his heart squeezing, an overwhelming wave of sadness and pain penetrating his being. He could stay here. Living in a blissful world where he could happily live with parents he'd never met. He could finally reclaim his past, get to know the people he had long forgotten. Discover their quirks, favorite foods, and learn about the things they've seen throughout life.
He could help his father with cooking, and his mother with cutting logs. He could sleep soundly knowing that there were those that loved and cherished him at an arm's reach. He could do so much. Argo wanted to give into the temptation, to lose himself in this fake world. He stared at the warm dish in front of him, aware he would never be able to taste it ever again.
But there were things he had to do, and he knew this blissful life was a fake tapestry. Spun to ensnare him in a perfect world he knew would never exist. He couldn't help but curse the insidious being that had devised such a landscape. The abomination was stomping over his feelings, and tempting him with false images of lost memories.
"What, what are your names?" He croaked, trying to suppress the sadness bubbling up from inside him. If he could just get their names, he would have vital clues when he returned to the real world. He knew his mother had the moniker of 'Scarlet Angel,' but a name would also help him locate his father.
His hope dampened, when they both laughed- like he was telling a joke. Despite the radiant light surrounding him, they didn't think anything was off. Argo inwardly sighed, thinking that they were just illusions.
Gazing at his mother and father who stood side by side, watching him with proud expressions he could feel his resolve harden. He knew they could still be out there in the world, or not, but he was truly happy to have been able to spend time with them. Even if it was only for a fleeting moment, he dearly treasured the past two days.
'Goodbye.'
He felt the power within his core surge, his vision drowning in a storm of white light as the world around him shattered like broken glass.
***
Argo groggily opened his eyes, a warm light enveloping his face. When his vision focused, he was staring at an oil lamp flickering with an orange hue. The shadows danced around the flame, the only sounds in the air was the tumbling of pebbles.
He sat up abruptly, "Faye?"
"She's okay." A familiar voice reassured him from his left, prompting him to take in his surroundings.
They were in a circular cavern about twenty five meters in diameter, with a gigantic hole above their heads. It tunneled upward as far as the eye could see, but all it ended in was darkness. A single corridor loomed in front of them, connected to the cavern as if tempting them to roam deeper.
'We fell down that?'
Pain flooded his body as Argo weakly fell on his back, swear covering his brow. He groaned in pain, as the voice from earlier called out.
"I managed to lessen the impact of our fall, but that was it,' the voice who he recognized as a girl, informed him. It contained traces of exhaustion, like she had stayed up for quite some time.
Argo crawled to a nearby boulder and propped his back up against it. The rocky texture was very uncomfortable on his back, but he relented.
"Aria, huh. Thanks."
The girl from earlier was sitting cross-legged by the oil lamp, watching the flames dance within the metal frame. Her armor had disappeared, exposing a combat suit that accentuated her body. Her long brown hair was in a mess, but her radiant azure eyes remained limpid.
Nearby, Faye was sprawled on the ground in a heap seemingly unconscious. Her armor had also dissipated, and her clothes were filled with tears exposing bruised skin.
"A dream... I was stuck in a dream."
Argo hesitantly announced, hoping to receive answers.
Argo felt relief surge through him, he was able to remember the details of his parents. It warmed his heart, but he felt a slight coldness for abandoning them. But he knew they weren't real, illusions created by a malevolent entity.
Aria nodded, "Same. After landing, before I could check on your conditions I had fallen asleep."
She shuddered, "A repulsive nightmare."
Argo could only nod, the motions causing his body to feel like it was being prodded with pins and needles.
"By the way how come your two friends attacked us? We almost died."
"They weren't my friends. I encountered them when attempting to return to the surface. I have no clue why they acted like that, must be the result of an abomination."
Her face contorted into a grimace, "My guess is it had something to do with the nightmare we experienced. It felt like if I had stayed... I don't know what would happen."
Argo wasn't sure what Aria's nightmare was about, but if it was something similar to his, which targeted their deepest feelings it couldn't be anything good. A promise for a blissful world? It was a truly cunning attack.
Looking at Faye he could only hope she would notice the irregularity of the nightmare. As much as he wanted to bank on her meticulous and pragmatic nature, her recent state of mind made her susceptible to such attacks.
'Would the person waking up really be Faye?'