POV: Alister Blackmier
The year was 735 SC (Supreme Calendar). A brutal war raged between the four races, each vying for resources, land, and power. I stood alone in the aftermath of a recent battle, methodically cleaning my blade. The metallic scent of blood lingered in the air as I muttered to myself, "Here I am again, washing away the evidence of another day's carnage."
"Ugh, I'm exhausted," Kyle groaned, rubbing his temples with his eyes closed. My comrade's face was a study in contrasts - a mask of stagnation overlaid with bone-deep weariness. He looked at me, his gaze heavy. "Hey, Alister, do you think we'll ever see the end of this war?"
I responded with a wry quip, a touch of dark humor in my voice. "I don't know, Kyle. We'll probably die before that happens." Kyle's face soured at my words, his exhaustion momentarily replaced by disapproval. "You shouldn't say things like that, Alister. It's bad luck." I merely shrugged, letting the weight of our reality settle between us.
Having finished cleaning my blade and concluding the conversation with Kyle, I set off for a solitary walk to the hilltop. As I crested the rise, I spotted Lieutenant General Sarah Voss, our second-in-command, standing alone. I attempted to approach stealthily, hoping to catch her off guard, but my efforts were in vain. Just as I closed within three paces, Sarah turned, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "If you were trying to hide, Alister, that was a lousy job," she quipped. I raised my hands in mock surrender. "Well, can't blame a guy for trying." Gesturing to the spot beside her, I asked, "May I join you?" Sarah shrugged, her eyes glinting with amusement. "You were going to sit even without my permission." True enough, I thought, as I settled down next to her.
Our conversation flowed easily, punctuated by moments of comfortable silence and gentle humor - a familiar rhythm we'd developed over time. Sarah tilted her head, a finger resting on her chin. "What brought you up here, Alister?" she asked. I replied with a hint of self-deprecation, "Just came to think and watch the sunset in peace." Her eyebrows shot up, eyes widening in mock surprise. "Wow, the famous Alister the Rakuten wants to watch a sunset? How unexpected." I jabbed her side playfully, unable to suppress a smile. "Hey, you know I hate that nickname." Sarah laughed, her voice warm. "You may not like it, but everyone else does... including me," she added, her voice trailing off. Puzzled by her sudden change in tone, I pressed, "What was that last part? I didn't quite catch it." She turned away, composing herself. "Nothing, never mind. Anyway, did you have something to discuss? If not, I can leave you to your 'quiet time,'" she said, adding air quotes. I shook my head, "No, it's fine. Actually, there is something I'd like to talk about regarding the next battle."
"Hello, boy!" A deep, baritone voice rasped from behind me. I whirled around, my heart leaping into my throat. Before me stood a towering figure, at least seven feet tall, with deep navy blue wings and pure gold hair. His white eyes resembled clouds in their purest form, set in a face twisted by a deranged, amused smile. He wore a white robe trimmed with obsidian black, an emblem emblazoned on its center - a cross with a diagonal crack.
My eyes widened in horror as I realized he had impaled Sarah with the sword in his hand. Her face, turned towards me, bore a strangely content smile, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. She seemed to say something, but I couldn't hear over the thundering of my heart and the clash of distant swords.
The winged man casually dropped Sarah and strode towards me. "W-who are you?" I stammered, terror gripping my voice.
"I'm Byuke Kassian, one of the Abyssal, from the Covenant race" he replied, his tone chillingly casual. "I was told to kill you, Prodigy One."
Confusion mingled with my fear as I struggled to comprehend his words. Before I could form another question, Byuke's teeth flashed in a brilliant smile. In an instant, he vanished from sight. A searing pain erupted in my chest. I looked down to see a bloody sword protruding from my body. As my lifeblood drained away, my vision darkened, and everything faded to black.
I jolted awake with a gasp, my body drenched in sweat. "Was that a dream?" I muttered, my voice hoarse. Reaching for a nearby towel, I wiped my face and focused on steadying my racing heart with deep, measured breaths.
As the panic subsided, I rose and began my familiar routine. I donned my underclothes before reaching for my light armor, its accompanying cloak bearing the proud crest of House Blackmier. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I paused, I stood six feet tall, I was slim but muscular. My silver-white hair and ocean-blue eyes stood out starkly against my pale skin - a constant reminder of my uniqueness within my family. Studying my face, my features were sharp but not overly so.
Next came the mask, covering the lower half of my face to conceal scars from a childhood incident. Finally, I grasped ískios, my elemental-infused sword. Its shadow element, unique to our bloodline, thrummed with power. This blade, passed down through generations to each head of our house, felt both familiar and somehow different in my hands.
As I emerged from my tent, the guards snapped to attention, offering a synchronized salute. "Good morning, Grand General," they chorused. I returned their greeting with a half-wave, then surveyed the camp. The aftermath of yesterday's victory lingered in the air - soldiers still slumbered, their rest well-earned after securing a crucial stronghold between the three rival nations.
I made my way to the command tent, acknowledging more salutes and greetings as I passed. Inside, I found Sarah poring over a map spread across the central table. "Good morning, Lieutenant General Sarah," I said, injecting a touch of humor into my formal tone. She looked up, returning with a smile. "Good morning, Grand General Alister."
Circling the table, I joined her at the map. "What are we looking at?" I asked. Sarah's hand moved to her chin, her expression thoughtful. "I'm reviewing our strategic position. As you know, the Elves, Dwarves, and Beastmen have formed an alliance against us." I nodded grimly. "Yes, this damned war over territories and resources." Even as I spoke, my mind wandered to darker thoughts. If only the king would concede to some of the other races' demands. We might have avoided this bloodshed altogether.
Looking back to the map, I noted the different countries and each point of access to the human territory. In the Southwest, the Dwarves inhabited the mountains of Delamoss. To the East, Elves dwelled in the dense forest of Rebloom. The Beastmen occupied the southern swampy forest of Mossywood. To the north lay Havenstone, the ancient country where the Harbingers once lived before their civilization mysteriously vanished, now believed to be extinct.
"Grand General! Grand General!" A soldier's urgent shout caught my attention. I exchanged a quick glance with Sarah before striding to the tent's entrance. Lifting the flap, I stepped out to see a soldier sprinting towards us, skidding to a halt as he spotted me.
"What is it, soldier?" I demanded.
Breathless, he reported, "The enemy forces are advancing, sir. They're trying to pin us in."
Without hesitation, I bellowed to the nearby soldiers, "Prepare for battle! Wake your squads!"
Within five minutes, I stood before the assembled battalion. My voice rang out, clear and resolute. "The enemy attempts to catch us off guard. Our scouts report we may be slightly outnumbered, but that doesn't mean we humans will go down without a fight. We will not let them retake this stronghold. Move out!"
My eyes reflected confidence and bravery, while masking the grim knowledge that this battle would likely result in mass casualties.
We encountered the enemy forces on a sprawling plain, dotted with hills and scattered trees. "Looks like they abandoned the surprise attack after spotting our scouts. They're opting for a head-on assault instead," I observed, addressing Sarah on my right and Kyle on my left.
Sarah nodded grimly. "It appears they believe they can overpower us, sir."
As we engaged, the battlefield erupted into chaos. Elves wielded healing and wind elements with deadly precision. Dwarves brandished stone-imbued weapons, their craftsmanship evident in every swing. Beastmen, with their razor-sharp claws and inhuman speed, darted between our lines.
Our human forces countered with our own elemental abilities, some wielding specially imbued weapons. I unsheathed ískios, its familiar weight comforting in my hand. With a swift side slash, I felled an enemy approaching from my right.
"Kyle, keep your men pressing forward," I commanded. "Sarah, we must push them back!"
As I stood amidst the fray, a strange sensation washed over me. The scene before me felt eerily familiar, as if I'd witnessed it all before. The thought nagged at me, even as I focused on the battle at hand.
Suddenly, an eerie silence fell over the battlefield. I turned to my right and froze, confronted by the very scene from my dream. Byuke stood before Sarah, his menacing presence unmistakable.
"Hello, boy," he growled.
Before I could react, a new voice resonated in my mind. "Damn, I thought we had more time."
Confused, I mentally responded, "Who are you?"
"I'm your sword, ískios," the voice replied. "I didn't reveal myself because you weren't strong enough to wield my full potential."
ískios continued urgently, "We don't have time to talk. I'm going to use my power to send you back to your childhood, twenty years earlier. You need to get stronger and reclaim me. Make sure you go to the academy. You'll keep your current knowledge. Prepare yourself, Prodigy One."
As the sword's words faded, black shadows engulfed me. I heard someone calling my name, but their voice grew distant as my vision darkened. The world around me began to slip away, and I felt myself falling through time.
"Grand General Alister, General Alister, Alister, Master Alister." The voices blended together, growing clearer as I slowly regained consciousness. I fluttered my eyes open to find myself in an unexpectedly familiar setting.
"What... where am I?" I mumbled, confusion evident in my tone.
A young maid with a kind face came into focus. "Master Alister, you're in your room at home," she replied, her voice tinged with concern.
Disoriented, I rubbed the back of my neck. "Ugh, what year is it?"
Alyssa tilted her head, a puzzled expression crossing her face as she tapped her chin with her finger. "It's the year 719, Master Alister."
The realization hit me like a tidal wave. I really did go back to my childhood. I'm twelve years old again. I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, my mind racing with the implications of this impossible journey through time. Sixteen years erased, yet my memories remained intact.