Dajien Highlands was a desert land pocked by towering sunburnt rocks, with craggy steppe canyons surrounding the main roads eroded by the wind over long years. Their surfaces were sharp, angular, and tiered. The wildly uneven land had sparse tropical trees and cactuses scattered round its dusty plateaus.
Yet nature was not the only thing present—monsters in the 1st or 2nd stage lurked across the scarred expanse. Most notably were the rattle snakes, scorpions, hawks, reptiles with tusks or armored skins, the beetles—and the feline apex predator of this area: Cryntar Cliffshade. Erick's Velocidon and Tryndale's Auronis species were also present here, as well.
Located in a cluster of trees located in a higher point close to an oasis, a whistling tune could be heard from within a solitary set-up camp. Inside, a girl was lying in wait.
She rolled over the soft fluffy in her inflatable mattress. The thing was a work of art—how could it just go from a defeated sorry-looking of a piled-up raggy sack to something like a bed of clouds made for the gods!? The whole tent even had a stealth function to it.
Arwen was surely enjoying her privileges like no other. Of course, she wasn't really slacking, her Cervalis Tailwind was outside, seemingly resting but on guard for any suspicious activity in the wild.
It was already the last day for her scouting and there were no signs of any of those illegal dungeon smugglers or any anomalous monsters appearing. Though she argued this point against her employer, it was only about the chances of 5-10% per month. This is pretty much a paid vacation, for her.
"Ahh this is so nice. Would be nice if I could get this as part of my payment, it's a hundred times better than my stiff hay bed, that's for sure. Her Cer, do you want to eat some snacks? I still got a last batch" The deer grunted, declining.
"Well, whatever. Since this is the last day and it's already late afternoon, I could just relax… ain't that a red flag, heh." Just as she chuckled, Cervalis hurriedly stood to attention. Arwen felt it too. Foreign presence in the desert.
"Ah I really should keep my mouth shut." Flapping over the tent's entrance, she quickly climbed over a tree and placed a hand over her eyes. Over there in distance, in the hazy veil of the dusty desert wind, faint silhouettes could be made out emerging from a trench. Taking out a long black tube-like object out from within her shirt, she used the so-called telescope.
"Oh. Hooded, acting stealthily. They look like the aforementioned smugglers alright. Should I report this? He did say they were dangerou—!" Just then, one of the silhouettes turned exactly towards her direction. Explosive alarms rang out in Arwen's head as she instantly climbed down and fetched Cervalis, not even bothering to get her things or the camping materials.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit. That guy is dangerous. What the fuck did I sign myself up for?" In that one instant, Arwen knew she screwed up. A being that could sense another's gaze even from far away—only Iron-rank hunters and 3rd stage monsters above could do that. That's what she was told by her old man.
"Hiyah! Cervalis, go, go, go!" Cervalis bleated and dashed off like the wind. Even while sprinting away, Arwen could not shake off her panic. Her instincts were right on the mark, since someone blinked into existence right in front of them and threw Cervalis over with one hand.
"Ahh!" They crashed heavily. Arwen tried to gaze up but a foot pressed on her head.
"Stay down, girl. Otherwise, I'll crush your head. Tell your Cervalis to not resist." She did as she was told, Cervalis meekly bowing from sensing the power gap.
"Who are you and what is your purpose in here?" The mysterious figure spoke. The voice was distorted, like a demon's. Deep, powerful, twisted.
"I—I, I was just scouting on a mission from the Gathos' town mission hall."
"Gathos Town, huh. Then, why did you run away upon seeing us? Are you speaking the truth?" The force on her head increased. She could swear her skull's about to break!
"Ugh, no-no, no! I swear I am speaking the truth! Someone named Tryndale hired me for this commission and he paid handsomely so I accepted. Said to scout for any suspicious activity!" In a bid to save her life, Arwen almost spilled all the truth—to convince in the lie she was ignorant of their existence.
Then footsteps echoed nearby, at least four pairs she could see from the dusty dirt ground, and another voice spoke.
"That's enough. She is speaking the truth. Let her go." This time, Arwen could clearly hear it was a crisp female's voice. The demon above her persisted for a second before complying. When she tried to look up, a hand hit her from the neck and she passed out along with Cer. The two were carried over the demon's shoulder like nothing.
"How should we dispose of them?" The figure's demon voice suddenly transformed to a normal featureless voice. They were masked. Smooth, empty. The female voice retorted.
"Don't. They're… innocents. Just erase their memory."
"You do know that's unnecessary expenditure of aether."
"I am aware."
"It's fine, it's fine. Let the other Gathos Town member of Atasha Fenas handle this." Another of the figures spoke. This one was of a theatrical whimsical voice, but clearly a man's still.
"That can't do, this is a foolish endeavor to risk our identity." The masked figure argued.
"Do recall it's also risky to kill innocents impulsively—the lord of the region, perhaps Gathos himself, would no doubt notice of a departing soul's disturbance. Especially in a heightened aether activity such as a festival." The masked figure had no argument.
"Never mind, it's better we keep them with us for the time being, then we'll release them once we're done here. By then, it shouldn't matter even if our existence is found out—I suspect an oracle is already upon us after our fun activity, anyway." The previous figure offered a compromise, which the group accepted. They set off. Heading towards Gathos Town.
.....
Unknown hours had passed. In an abandoned warehouse. Arwen had just woken up with a cough.
'Uhh… my neck hurts.' She didn't know where she was. She was blindfolded and her limbs were tied with rope. Not to mention, some sort of ear wax was placed on her. She couldn't hear much except the vague muddled sound of voices speaking. She tried to squirm around.
"Oh look, the girl's awake." The man with the whimsical voice said.
"What's up with the girl, anyway? You didn't tell me about her" Another man's deep voice said with a strange tone. Likewise, he wore a cloak that covered every inch of his body save the face veiled in shadows.
"A poor scout that caught sight of us. Breaker deigned to kill her but Missy wanted to spare. So, we decided to either leave her in this warehouse or let her be taken care of by you."
"Huh uh. You're leaving it at my discretion, then. Perhaps I'll simply finish her off by daybreak and arrange a suicide or something." Then, the hooded lady spoke.
"You can't. She's valuable. Don't kill her." The others turned towards her.
"What is up with this? Did you have a change of heart, mistress?" She shook her head.
"Trust me on this." Silence.
"… Alright. Leave the girl be, release her tomorrow or something. The mistress has her weird episodes now and then." The man with the strange tone nodded. Then he kicked the squirming Arwen on the stomach with just enough force to crash against the office wall.
'Mothefuc—'
"In any case. Give me reports on the overall situation here. Have you confirmed if it's the outer star? The free believers are doubting the Architect."
"So far, there is an additional sign: the boy has awakened his powers. A telepathic one. One of our members have had a close contact with him and from his own words: It is he. Moreover, he's had a delirious state for the past few days."
"Oh? That's surprising. That free believer elder has had such a reaction? Now I am starting to want to meet that boy. What of the Altar of the Sorrowful Star? The relic under the Church?"
"It is… not proceeding smoothly. The Church's Guardian's valiant attempts had prevented us from infiltration for many years. Thankfully, they've already departed from this world. We may attain success soon enough."
"Don't let your guard down. We don't know what those heretics have in mind. Anything else?"
".... A member from the Church has successfully received the Solquar Chem Plant's Operation Report."
"Ho oh. That's an unexpected boon. To think our ploy is coming into play so quickly. Good job rearranging the matter." Then, the man with the whimsical voice turned towards the others.
"More on that on your report papers later. For now, let's get a move on before the new day arrives. Lead the way, 05." Just as the man coined 05 was about to open a hidden pathway, an explosion took place.
A thunderous boom resounded throughout as a white flash blinded everyone. The walls burst apart as indiscernible blue sparks sprayed ahead and chain-stunned everyone as they gasped in electric shock. Hovering over the shattered wall remains, a handsome man in armor had the moon behind him as strands of lightning held him in the center of the hole.
Opposite that lightning herald, below, the masked figure easily shook off the paralyzing effect as they stood against Tryndale with their sword raised. His demonic voice echoed like the hauntings of a nightmare.
"Tryndale the Eighth Star." The other figures followed in dispelling the stun effect. In each of them held panic but nevertheless held confidence in the masked demon. Tryndale narrowed his eyes.
"Breaker. What's a high-rank criminal like you accompanying lowly smugglers?"
"Money." The masked demon spoke. Then, it raised its sword glowing with a ghostly blue aura. Wicked black streaks marring its edge. Tryndale could feel it's menace, as if pricks were poking his skin even through his lightning sphere.
"Stop! Disengage!" But then, a clear female voice rang out. The masked demon paused. "This is not ideal, use the escape artifact!"
Before Tryndale could react, the masked demon slashed his sword multiple times in a half second, making a havoc with the dust and surrounding crates—a smokescreen.
"You will not escape!" Tryndale shot forward through. Yet, his sword clad in lightning was blocked by another. The masked demon's eyes glowing red amidst the gray.
"Oh, we will." Then with a flicker of their swords, the masked demon backed off. When Tryndale cleared the dust away, there was only the fading sparks of teleportation. Their group was gone just like that.
"Tsk. Utter failure. I should've brought Erick and Litney." Realizing the failure of his task, he came over to Arwen and checked her condition after untying her.
"I apologize. You got caught up in far more trouble than I expected."
"Bullshit! I almost got killed if I wasn't spared by one of their member's kindness." Arwen slapped his hand away.
"I am aware. For that, I shall reimburse you for how many coins you want."
"Damn it, it's not about money anymore. My life's more important than that. Why didn't you call the Gathos Town guards, or the Argonautica Praeda? I knew this mission was highly suspicious, screw this." Arwen spat at the ground and begun walking away. Part of what Arwen got so angry was her stupidity and shortsightedness to accept an easy-deal from a supposedly trustworthy person. She should've known better; strangers were still strangers. Then, she stopped.
"I'll say this though. I heard some of what they said." Arwen retold some bits of words she'd overheard over the latter half of the group's conversation. Tryndale's expression hardened further.
"This… is this true?"
"Do I have to die to prove my words?" Tryndale bowed then.
"I thank you for this service. You have done a great achievement. I must repay my debts towards you. If you should request my help in the future, I shall offer my fullest strength."
"Ptui! Yeah, yeah. Sure. Let me just go home and rest so I can lick my wounds. Come here Cer!" Arwen released the deer monster and rode it away. Before long, she came back, however.
"Err, where are we?"
"Go northwest for two minutes and you will see the outskirts." Then without saying a word, she rode off. Tryndale turned towards the unused hidden pathway. His gaze holding a smoldering thunderous wrath.
"Atasha Fenas…!"
....
Cavien's mansion. A warm light casted over the dinner table, packed with alcoholic beverages and bottles. Snacks on trays such as nuts, fried finger foods, crackers, cheese and pickles, were abundant beside them. Finished with a palate cleanser sorbet.
The smell lingers in the air with a mix of sour and bitter, reverberating loud echoes of laughter as men and women were enjoying their time. They were Cavien's father, Sahid and his friends. All of them wearing rich georgette and cotton fabric with some wearing pelts and hides of animals. All of them had one thing in common; the colorful bright patterns on their clothes, like the stripes of a tiger monster's.
Cavien himself was sitting by that table, nibbling some of the snacks and gulping spoonful of the sweet dessert. Their talks consisted of the result of the Midling Catch, the Wanderer's Troupe's memorable drama play of a certain kingdom's ruin.
Just then, the conversation turned towards the recent disciple of Master Hartold; the boy with the white hair.
"Say, about that boy. His name is Mettel, wasn't he? What's up with him? I'd expected a bright scholarly-looking boy, yet the few times I seen him, it was with a sullen color to his face."
"Ah that that. Many kids on the neighborhood, like Orion in particular, used to pick on the boy. I wasn't there when it happened, but three years ago when this town was receiving its refugees—something happened. The other kids hated the boy for it."
"What? What exactly happened? My niece hates his guts too. I don't think he was ill-tempered or anything, if anything he does has a smart-air about him so I don't know about that sullen-air." A middle-aged man claimed.
Then a middle-aged woman who knew the full story shared with everyone. Though some of them had taken residence here when it was just being built, the others are latecomers just like Sahid and his son. Not everyone knew the details.
The others exclaimed over the past incident. One of them turned to Cavien.
"Cavien, didn't you say you were seeking to befriend him? How'd that go? Do you think he's a good person or no?" Cavien made a caught-mice expression.
"Ah well. He is. He is a good person. The rumors are probably exaggerated, maybe because of Orion. He does have the tendency to make things bigger than it is. But, Mettel is good. Otherwise, he wouldn't have helped the old man from the outskirts." The adults heard his opinion without scruples. Sahid clapped to get their attention.
"Alright Cavien, how about you tell us your farewell with Mettel, earlier? You and Raynel said your good-byes, yes?" Cavien made an aggrieved face at his father for his loud mouth. Helpless, Cavien reiterated the event.
….
As the sun set, in the town square where they met, the three kids were giving their farewells to the one boy departing. Raynel only uttered a simple thank you for the books, hope we meet again, good luck on your journey. Cavien was more expressive in his.
"I knew this would happen someday. Man, I am a bit jealous in how you're going to be training personally under Master Hartold, in the Aethercloud Spire at that! That's the dream place for all aspiring wizards of the Karan continent, you know?" He bumped his fist into Mettel's shoulder.
"Err, what do you mean? I do feel excited. I couldn't even sleep properly! It's just… I've been waiting so long for this day, that I just don't know how to…–"
"How to express it, right? I guess I understand then. After you what showed us back there, it's super crazy to think about. I heard my uncle praising you as a talented boy, being able to do stuff like that!" Then running out of things to say, the three of them had an unspoken awkwardness. Raynel was the first to try leaving.
"Okay then, we might see each other again someday. The next time we meet, I'll be a part of the Mithra Scholarium as a genius researcher with a fancy luxurious restaurant under my name. Don't get yourself killed—though I doubt that with an all-powerful wizard as an adoptive father." Raynel waved from behind. Mettel was confused hearing the last part: why do some call Master Hartold his adoptive father? He didn't know Raynel also didn't know, but was just hearing it from his brother Quin.
"Anyways. Same as what he said. We're already friends so, I believe there's a good chance of us meeting again. To be honest, I want to be a Custos Abyssi like my uncle but I am not sure if I have the talent. See you some day, Mettel!" And the three separated under the radiant golden sun and the faint night stars.
...
"That was it. Just a simple good bye between friends. *Crunch*" Said Cavien as he popped open a crunchy cracker.
At that moment, a late-comer came into the party—a man in his late twenties wearing a leather suit and a cloak. He had a similar appearance to Cavien and Mr. Sahid, but more on the rugged lean and tall side. He had an unkempt beard to his chin and long curly hair that reaches to his shoulders.
"Looks like the local patroller is late to the party, what are you doing, Kamren?"
"Uncle Kamren!" Cavien stood to come up to Uncle Kamren. Sahid offered him an open seat.
"Brother, come sit. Why were you so late?"
"Sorry sorry, just some troubles in the wild. I had a few wild beast guests come over and I had to entertain them. What's up, Cavien?" He high-fived Cavien. When Kamren sat by the table, Cavien smelled a slight burnt smell radiating from Kamren. He'd sniffed Uncle Kamren and noticed a frayed mark around the edges of his hood.
"Uncle, why is there a burn here?" Kamren looked to where the boy pointed.
"Oh, I didn't notice that." Kamren just laughed it off. "Must've got caught in a hook or something. Suckers, I would just have to sew it back up. Anyway, what did I miss?"