Had Julia found a way he could help that went further than her plan originally bordered? That was the only possibility he could harbour it to. That must be the case… surely. But he had to confirm it. Gwyndolin had shown a degree of incompetence in the recent time he had spent with her studying these murals as well as before, and he had let his guard down because of it; but since when they first met she had been figuring things out, no matter if he kept them secret or not—and she was not averse to hiding what she knew—but even so, his past and especially a recent event such as his encounters in this forest and the maturation of his bound spirits should not be known.
Julia stared at Gwyndolin, she looked back, and for the first time he struggled to see beyond that slight smirk. Was she being deceitful? No, she wasn't. But what qualifies as deceitful, and what if she truly feels she is being honest, while she hides and alludes from the truth?
"You're looking confused, Julia," Gwyndolin said. "In what way I think you can help and that, right? I know a few things… but honestly, I don't know. I think you've found a way you can help, but you can explain that to us if you want after I explain a few things to you. What do you say?"
Julia didn't have much to say in response. He could only nod and let her talk because, as she always did, Gwyndolin just seemed to know everything he was thinking, what his concerns were, and what to say about it in turn. It was as if she was the one who had the ability to see into the soul.
This was exactly like Gwynevere, whose eyes pierced his soul when he was seven, and saw him for what he was. Moments where the two bore similarities were rare, but always struck his heart like a hammer. For once, it didn't feel so outrageous to label them as sisters. He sighed, "Sure… Explain."
Gwyndolin chuckled, and then she started, "You see, before I greeted you, I'd seen you a few moments prior… when you were getting chased."
"When I was being…" Julia froze. "For how long, exactly?"
"For the whole latter half of the chase."
For that long? That entire time I was running for my life, the rush and panic so great that I could hardly remember it and even less could I understand how long it really went on for, and she had been watching since half-way through until the end? Julia was in disbelief. "And you couldn't have helped me? I thought I was going to die!"
If she was some poor defenceless sap, with no real to aid in any meaningful way, then he probably would not have been so riled up. However, she was far from that. She had a whole army she was commanding, so not only did she take the time to sit there and watch some passerby being chased by her dead troops, but she also did not do so much as lift a finger. Sure, you don't have the obligation to help someone in danger, but when you can, is it not the right thing to do? That's what Julia felt at least.
"I would have stepped in if you needed it…!" Although Gwyndolin said that, he somehow felt doubtful. "But you didn't, you see? You were perfectly fine on your own. I don't even see why you ran in the first place."
Julia narrowed his eyes. Many parts of what she said confused him, and the gap in his memory combined with his miraculous survival and the wake-up to the banished dreads piqued his curiosity. What exactly happened was something he wanted to know desperately, for what he deemed as luck, from Gwyndolin's side of the story as a spectator, seemed to be more than that. However, he didn't want to reveal his lack of knowledge so soon—so he asked a question to probe information: "...What did you see, exactly?"
Gwyndolin smiled, more so grinning, and simply replied, "Something rather interesting…"
She paused after that, the smile on her face never fading. In the awkward silence she created, Julia felt a drop of sweat form on his brow, and he was convinced she had no desire to say what it was she saw, but then she spoke again and soon eased his worries.
Gwyndolin explained, "I saw that you have some kind of authority over them. In the first moment they had you surrounded, and in the next, all of them ran off terrified! I couldn't believe my own eyes! I had to know who you were by then, but to think you were Gwynevere's Julia. No, actually, it only makes sense someone like that would be connected to her."
Authority? …over the dreads? It was the first he was hearing of it, and it was by far a power he didn't possess, so then if the words Gwyndolin said were the truth, there could only be a single entity (or entities) that could be accountable for this strange authority or power.
Those imp-like, pure iterations of the villagers were still an existence he had yet to become used to, but their presence had already enforced drastic change as well as bringing him great hope. It only felt right that, what Gwyndolin mistook for something he had done as an act of warding away the possessed aberrants, was actually them protecting him.
Julia looked down and around his body, and searched for them in the spaces they usually clung on, but he couldn't find them. It was then that he decided to attempt something he had never done—to call upon them directly.
He had never dared to try. Why would he want to purposely invoke their hateful, malevolent forms, ghastly and atrocious, bringing them forth into the world? They had only ever spurred on anonymity and magnified the feelings he wished not to feel.
However, things were different now. Julia wasn't so averse to calling them in their newly attained form. He hadn't a clue as to whether or not they would actually come. In the end, his heartfelt desire to meet them himself—of his own will—was not betrayed. They soon crawled up his clothing and appeared along his arms. He even held one in his hand.
Watching them skitter around, with their childish curiosity towards himself and what surrounded him, was joyful. Julia almost got carried away, but he then heard the unmistakable sounds of excitement coming from Gwyndolin.
"Yes, that! That's exactly what I saw! See what I mean, Evelynn?" Gwyndolin exclaimed.
Julia froze in shock and the imps emulated his reaction, "You can see them?"
They should be impossible to see by normal standards? Dumbfounded and caught, he found himself reconsidering the knowledge he obtained from the past decade. They were spirits… they can't be seen… that doesn't make sense! Has their form become corporeal?
Julia had long since assumed no one other than himself could see them because no person so far had ever taken notice of them. Whether it was wandering spirits, or his bound villagers, not a single person noticed them. The thought hadn't crossed his mind that summoning them could expose them for others to see.
Although it was a massive blunder of his, he was also extremely excited at the mere possibility that they could see them. There was more than enough evidence to prove their existence, but there was always this troublesome thought that plagued his mind, that perhaps they were just his hallucinations. He could never find comfort in the truth because he was the only one who could ever look upon them.
Even if Gwynevere's teachings taught him otherwise, the insidious seeds of doubt had long been planted, and his paranoia was gradually blooming. However, if this new form was visible to the naked eye, then that would change everything! The weight against his heart felt heavier than a mountain. That's why he looked expectantly at Gwyndolin, and he asked the question, "You can see them?"
"See what?" Gwyndolin asked, confused. "Evelynn, is someone else here?"
"It's just us. No one within a hundred metres, I can confirm that," Evelynn replied swiftly, making swift turns and scanning the area around them as she made the report.
In the end, there was disappointment. Their reaction showed that they couldn't see the villagers in the slightest, and his question caused confusion and wariness in the both of them; especially so for the usually relaxed Evelynn. Julia had done his best until now to keep a strong poker face and prevent the betrayal of his emotions, but at this moment he couldn't hide his dissatisfaction. His mouth quickly fell into a slight frown.
"Nevermind, I was mistaken—forget I said anything," Julia said as he tried to defuse the concern and caution he had risen, but his words didn't seem effective.
"If you say so," Gwyndolin said. Regardless of what they were thinking, they dropped it there, since there were more important matters at hand. Gwyndolin brought the topic back on track, "Anyway, it's your influence we need. If you can use that power of yours to influence the dreads, getting out of here won't be an issue."
The idea wasn't bad, and Julia wasn't opposed to it, but the key issue involved was that he didn't perform the feat as Gwyndolin had described of his own volition. He may be able to pull it off again. However, he didn't know for sure. Making promises based on something uncertain wasn't preferable, especially when there were heavy risks involved. There is nothing more dangerous than someone who pretends like they know what they're doing, when in fact they actually don't.
"I thought maybe you could make use of something from here," Gwyndolin continued. "The only thing is… you did run away initially, and you didn't seem to bring forth that power with intent or confidence in using it."
Her words pinned the problem exactly. She was spot on. For the sake of everyone here and himself, Julia decided it was best to be transparent. He was unsure if he wanted to explain every last detail, such as the villagers or his condition, but at the very least, he wouldn't lie. "I don't know whether or not I can control it. I could probably do it again—but will I be able to control them, or make them do what I want? I don't know, to be perfectly honest."
At some point, he lowered his head without realising it. Julia felt their stares and shuddered. They had high expectations and a lot was riding upon him, but he was the bearer of bad news; their expectations may not be met. A decade's tension piled upon his shoulders; it was a crucial moment, which would decide whether he could finally meet Oskar or not, and the pressure weighed on him heavily.
However, in response to all his stress and panicking, Gwyndolin grinned. "Julia," she said. "You don't need to worry so much. Let me tell you something… Confidence comes from experience, and there isn't anyone who's going to blame you for being inexperienced. All of us start off somewhere. Besides, you're not doing this alone. We're here to back you up. We aren't going to let you fail. Even if you don't succeed on your first try, we're here to make sure you can get another try. Don't try to shoulder all the burden on yourself."
Julia looked up at her. "Damn it," he said. "You just always know what to say, don't you? And stop treating me like a child, I'm seventeen—damn it. I have plenty of experience too. More than my peers, anyway…"
Evelynn laughed, explaining, "Gwyndolin is good with words—she's a natural born leader. What she lacks in intelligence, she makes up for in wisdom. She makes good use of what little she has."
"Exactly, exactly, you're exactly right—." Gwyndolin turned smug for all but a second before shouting back, "Hey! You just called me dumb again, didn't you?! Complimenting me and insulting in one go, when'd you become so cocky?! Are you trying to act cool in front of Julia, huh…?? Also, call me 'commander' while on duty! Bah, I'm too lax on my subordinates…"
While Gwyndolin waved her arms around and pretended to be angry, Evelynn merely laughed; it was an expression of delight she rarely wore. Beyond their positions, it was clear that they were great friends.
Julia remembered his conversation with Evelynn, and recalled how she'd said 'It wasn't until I met with Gwyndolin that I would be open to any kind of physical intimacy again'. Just then, an idea popped into his head—though he wasn't sure what that was just yet. Regardless, he no longer felt nearly as tense. It was a relief to have such people around you in these situations.
"Well then, are you up for it?" Gwyndolin asked.
As to whether or not he could induce the power of his villagers and exercise their authority over the dreads, he couldn't know for sure; and although her words had encouraged him, confidence wouldn't appear out of thin air. However, these new imp-like forms were undoubtedly allies—and he believed that they would respond when he called for their help.
If that was everything, then he may not have been certain. But it was the correct decision to show the murals after all. The dreads weren't so different from his villagers; since they are misguided and malformed, it should be possible to reassemble their fractured minds. Making them capable of intelligent thought should allow them to follow basic commands at least. Even if they weren't quite brought to the standard of his imps.
"Yes, I think it's do-able," Julia said.
Gwyndolin scratched her head, wearing a complicated expression on her face. "No, that's not what I meant—perhaps I didn't word my question right… Do you want to do it? We aren't forcing you, in the end it's your choice if you want to try this or not."
"Don't feel obligated out of necessity, this isn't your only choice," Evelynn said. "You may have trouble alone, but we can easily allow for your escape unseen. If you'd rather not do this, no one will blame you—you have no duty to act in this matter."
"Whatever it is you want to do, that's your decision to make—not ours," Gwyndolin stated.
Julia was quite bewildered by this and almost didn't know what to say. They were being far too considerate… If he said no, then they would be in deep trouble. This plan was already hanging on far too many threads, with too many ways it could go wrong. They must be desperate, yet they were giving this much consideration. He wanted to agree without a second thought, but if he were to do that then it would be a slap in the face to this exact consideration; so he had to ask himself: 'Is this what I want to do?' Taking this on could impact his chances of finding Oskar.
"I think…" Julia said, trying not to rush, "I think… no, no—I want to do this. Please let me try."
"We're glad to have you!" Gwyndolin slapped his back, which was surprisingly forceful despite the size of her body, and gave an affirmative grin, "I have to run around a bit now. There's some things I have to sort out and prepare before we go—you can wander about here or sit around and rest for a bit while I do that, okay?"
"Alright. See you soon," Julia waved with a smile. Considering her position, it was actually hard to believe how much time she had spent with him. He didn't know the total size of her group, but did she not have a miniature army to lead? Was it alright to be away for so long, not speaking a single word or order to them? It was a testimony to their autonomy and independence in getting things done if anything.
Evelynn hastily asked, "Do you need me to come with?"
"Mm… No, I'll be fine. Accompany Julia for some time, will you?" Gwyndolin replied.
Julia wasn't opposed to the company. The time from then on was mostly spent resting and not doing much, only the occasional small talk with Evelynn; the conversations often pointless and leading to nowhere. It was then that the exhaustion finally hit him.
So much had happened in the day. Too much. So, when he was alone, he excused himself to an archway leading outside the courtyard. He didn't leave, only finding a spot to lean; against the cool, moss-covered stone bricks. Then he rummaged around his coat and found his flask.
"I still have a good amount left…" Julia mumbled happily, twisting the cap and drinking some of the contents. Holding the flask in hand, he swirled it around and felt the weight of the liquid in the container; it was a habit of his when he had a cup or something similar in hand.
"You shouldn't have that," a voice said. Julia was distracted, so he almost jumped out of his skin when the sudden voice creeped up on him. He hadn't expected company any time soon.
"Have what?" As he saw Evelynn turn the corner, he tried to regain his composure and feign ignorance. The flask wasn't see-through—it was metal, so there was no way to know what was inside.
"I know that isn't water in that flask," Evelynn smiled.
"...and how would you know?"
"I'm an informant. It's my job to know things," Evelynn said before continuing on, seeing he wasn't satisfied by that answer. "Hm—fine, I'll let you know what gave it away at least. Water weighs more than that—that's how I knew."
Julia was only more confused after receiving the answer.
"Okay, that's just absurd! There's no way you can know the weight—how can you tell?"
Evelynn smiled again, "That's all I'm telling you. Secrets need to be kept, after all."
She was teasing him. Evelynn was normally the quiet and serious type, but was this more aligned with her true personality? When they first met, she was polite, gentle, and well-spoken; but now she was acting contrarily, although still tactful in her words compared to Gwnydolin. Speaking of Gwyndolin, Evelynn had behaved similarly earlier before being told off… and now she was doing it to him… Anyway, feigning ignorance was proving ineffective.
"There's a lot of things we shouldn't have or things we shouldn't do, but we do them anyway." Julia addressed the topic without paying it too much attention, but Evelynn didn't even pay an ounce of attention towards his meaningless ramble.
"It would be bad if Gwyndolin spotted you with that. She seems the careless type, but if she caught you she would be really mad. She can be quite scary when angry."
"Mhm, and are you going to tell on me?"
Evelynn pondered for a moment, "I don't know…" She held her chin and tilted her head in an extremely exaggerated manner, "I get drunk really easily—and I tend to forget things when I drink. Pass that here a moment, and maybe the alcohol will mess with my memory a little?"
Julia ended up bribing Evelynn, sharing some of the flask with her. If you were to tell him a day ago, or even this morning, that he would be drinking side-by-side with an aberrant, he never would have believed it. His whole world had turned upside-down in a few hours.
Evelynn then asked an unexpected question—or two, "You chose to help us in the end. Why did you, even though you don't have reason to? What about Oskar?
Julia looked at her and sighed, "There's a few reasons. You and Gwyndolin have done so much for me in such a short time, so much so that I'm not sure I could ever repay my debt; and neither could I ignore the dreads, now that I know their circumstances and how much they remind me of my own; oh, and, I'm still confident I can find him—really, I am, even if I'm to spend more time in this… shitty forest; but… above all—I'm doing it for self-satisfaction… I guess."
His words became lazy and even slurred a little. Julia found himself becoming more talkative after drinking, and the alcohol was the excuse he made in his mind, but he was never such a lightweight; he just needed to vent some stress.
The effects of the alcohol were short term, quickly wearing off. Without much of a choice for things to do before Gwyndolin came back, which was beginning to take a while, Julia wandered around while trying not to go too far and was finally able to appreciate what he couldn't on their walk here.
The buildings were similar but intriguing nonetheless. Although the sea of grey from the same stone used everywhere would've brought a dull look, the overgrowth which crept up the walls combined with the beautiful but fading engravings seen on the pillars prevented that.
Almost all the roofs were flat, unlike the pitched roofs often seen in discovered ruins, and only a few of the large, more important looking buildings had a pediment above the entablature; which also happened to be the most damaged buildings.
Most of his scouring was done inside the buildings, searching for evidence to tell him about the era this place belonged. Julia was curious as a self-proclaimed archaeologist, but there was interest in knowing because of his discoveries from the murals. He wanted to learn anything he could about the time period, since it was an age when mortals and spirits lived among each other. Studies on spirits and the spirit realm, which was lacking in the modern age for obvious reasons, were highly covetable to him.
His searches didn't bear fruit in the end, even though he closely scrutinised every nook and cranny. There was hardly anything besides old pots and pans—anything else had been too badly damaged. The events of the 'cataclysm' must have taken its toll on this place.
Many buildings had up to two floors, and for those without roof access due to deterioration, he climbed and jumped wherever he could to reach his destinations. 'Playing' in ruins ever since he was a child made him a proficient climber and observant enough to find ways into or onto places others couldn't. His strange sight may even be an advantage.
It was on top of a building that Julia noticed something. He had been staring up, bored by the lack of findings. That was when he caught a hint of movement; there was an old rag flapping about in the wind, held by rock debris, from some place high up above a pillar. The pillar was large and bordered the ruins, reaching its very edge—meaning he had travelled a lot further than intended.
The rag wasn't too spectacular, but what was—was the faint sight of an object he happened to find next to it. It was the organic material it consisted of that allowed him to see it atop the drab, inanimate stone structure. Resting on the entablature, bound to fall off with the slightest nudge, was a leather-bound book.
A piece of writing was the most valuable treasure he could have possibly gotten his hands on, and he was keen to get it. Hence, he climbed. From one building to another, then across the top of a crumbling wall and upwards; he jumped the gap between said wall and another one, only grabbing the edge just barely and pulling himself up, and finally he made it onto a nearby pillar.
Julia was fairly high up by the time he got there, and he had a good view of the surrounding area. He could see many glowing specks of aberrants moving about; but despite looking, he couldn't find Gwyndolin among them. It only took pulling himself up onto the entablature with his elbows and forearms to finally reach the book.
"Why you're up here is above me… Uhm, no pun intended," Julia muttered. But it made sense, since this was the only place such a thing could be preserved. Either someone had a habit of writing in unusually high places or they placed it up here during the event that caused the ruins to become its namesake. Whatever the reason was, the extensive and exhausting climb had him thoroughly anticipating reading it.
It was important not to knock or nudge it in anyway, or it would risk falling. The great pillar upon which the cracked, crumbling, and clearly weathered entablature rested stood on the precipice just above the glimmering lake; and though the left was nothing but land, the right only held the smallest bit of land before dropping down a cliff. Anything that fell either ahead or to the right would plummet straight into the water; and so would the book, from where it was—straight ahead—if he weren't careful.
Julia's movements slowed to rigid steps; not daring to take his eyes off it, he inched closer until he was only a step away. All his concentration singled down to one point, and as such, he didn't anticipate his own weight. The stone beneath him crumbled as he gasped in shock.
With his footing gone, he was helpless to do anything but fall, taking the book with him too. His brain seemed to stall as the world suddenly rushed up, but he reflexively turned and reached above him to grab onto the remaining ledge. Julia was barely able to curb his momentum and hang from a single arm.
He used his free hand to quickly reach out and just managed to grab it with his fingertips. Luckily, that part of the ledge hadn't fallen apart as he used it to hold his body-weight, otherwise he would have fallen then and there. But he didn't have time to celebrate. There was less than a second to think; he needed to free his hand and grab the ledge, or he would slip; he wasn't strong enough to hold on for long.
Julia threw the book towards land, unfortunately disregarding possible damage to it. At least it hadn't fallen into the water now… Other than that, there was himself. Stuck on the ledge, as he was. And unfortunately, as he tried to pull himself, he realised that he wasn't able to do it. He wasn't strong enough…
His legs were dangling. Hanging limp, there was nothing to kick or support him, and he wasn't strong enough to brute force it and lift his entire body weight. Julia's naturally weak constitution, or nimble and lean, as he would put it, was finally biting him in the rear-side.
Julia weighed very little for a man his age, but his inherent muscle growth was pathetic in kind. Momentum and agility was how he climbed usually, and he could use neither well here, so there weren't many options. The drop below was substantial, and although he probably would survive if he were to just drop, it wouldn't be without considerable injury; his legs would break, so that wasn't a choice.
As such, there was only one thing to do. He had to throw himself over the cliff and into the lake, hoping it was deep enough. It was an easy feat to manage and so he made his mind up quickly, knowing he would have a decent bit of explaining to do when he eventually returned.
It was moments from throwing himself into the lake that he heard a voice, stopping him in his tracks.
The rough words spoken were: "Üttrah, cï pudenni…? Doth trak'kalkesfa."
Julia was bewildered, turning in astonishment. He wondered if he had heard incorrectly, but there was no way that he could mishear so terribly that the words, if it was speech, were this incoherent. It was hard to believe that a living creature pronounced them. But the outlandish nature of the language only meant one thing; and he instantly recognised, despite never having heard it before this day, that this was one of the many dialects spoken by the aberrants.
This continent was split between human and aberrant territory. The two nations shared a grand, lengthy, and bloody history; and though knowledge surrounding the other side wasn't widely spread, neither were they ignorant of their neighbour's affairs. A widely known fact is their historical lack of unity. While Christeyeres followed a more civilised system, with the entirety of the country governed by the crown and military, the aberrants only recently formed a primitive republic—the Republic of Lyre. However, only an estimated forty percent of the country has joined.
The remaining sixty percent lived in tribes, generally segregated by race, and varied in their practices of seclusion. Naturally, the wide array of races which fell under the term 'aberrant', along with this known fact, meant that there were many languages and dialects spoken. It is incredibly hard to learn any of them should you decide to attempt such a thing. However, the republic did possess a standard form of aberrantese.
Naturally, Julia had no clue whether a niche dialect or a generalised one was being spoken. But regardless, he couldn't understand a thing, so he quickly searched for the unknown speaker. He soon found a figure, who he finally made eye contact with. The man's face was obscured but he seemed to react in some kind of way, expressing shock and confusion mostly, before he spoke again shortly.
"You—are you human? What are you doing here?" he asked in an almost accusatory manner. Julia wanted to reply, but he stumbled on his words after realising the things he said had become intelligible. He was flustered, thinking he somehow came to understand a foreign language, but he quickly realised that the man had switched to Christeyeran; speaking confidently and fluently, more so than Gwyndolin even. Evelynn's was admirable, but rough around the average. This man, however, was a native speaker!
Julia wanted to respond—say something, ask a question or two of his own, etcetera—but before he could reply or say anything in response, the man interrupted him. "Wait there a moment…! Well, it's not like you can do anything else," he chuckled. "I'll catch you! We can discuss matters afterwards!"