Chapter 26 – Insomnia.
For the first time since her return, the crisp sea breeze wafted against Velvet's face, bringing with it an inexplicable surge of familiarity. Her lips tightened at the emotions that nipped at the heels of the unbidden memories, threatening to distract her from the task at hand. With an almost imperceptible jerk of her head, she forced herself to ignore the winds breaking against her jacket and to focus on her surroundings.
A disfigured, weather-worn marble statue wielding in one hand what had presumably once been a brilliant longsword stood alone in the center of the crumbling stone plaza. Ancient buildings twisted beyond recognition by constant winds and sea spray stood in a semicircle around the plaza, facing the statue and the flat horizon of the open ocean beyond. Scattered groups of townsfolk dressed in shabby clothing went about their business before the partially boarded-up façades, some casting glances at the conspicuous group where they stood. The bright afternoon sun beamed calmly directly overhead, washing the seaside city of Meliodas in a steady light.
Rose glanced to the side, tracking a pair of shady-looking individuals walking about the plaza and noting how other people appeared to be giving them a wide berth as if they were predators strolling amongst the herd. "Well... while it doesn't seem like an especially welcoming place," she noted, raising a hand to scratch her head, "I don't really see anything out of the ordinary."
The trails of fabric hanging from Dezel's coat danced in the breeze making landfall as he tilted his head upwards. "There's no storm like last time. Not even a cloud in the sky," he stated, feeling the winds with quiet concentration.
Alisha swept her gaze across the ragged stone plaza and the many buildings married to the network of sloping streets beyond, noting, "Though I have never once visited in person, going by what I know of this city, all appears to be as expected."
Sorey glanced around as well, his expression tinged with a hint of dismay as he confirmed his companions' words. "Yeah... it does seem like there isn't anything odd here," he agreed dimly, his embroidered cloak briefly wafting upwards in the breeze behind him. Doubt creeping in, he shook his head and turned to the group with a candid expression. "All this might've been a dead end after all," he admitted.
Lailah's expression was gentle as she interlaced her hands together. "Let us not concede defeat so soon," she advised, drawing Sorey's rather disappointed gaze, "we did come all this way, after all."
"That's right." Mikleo crossed his arms and gestured reasonably in the air. "Even if there isn't an iris gem here, we still might be able to unearth something about Heldalf and his past. We should look for clues in the city."
Despite the growing evidence that her initial reservations were in truth valid, Velvet held a detached expression on her face. "Fine," she said aloud, drawing the attention of the group. "We can split up and investigate the city. We'll regroup later." Those short words having been said, she turned around, putting her back to the rest of them, and set off into the depths of the city by herself. A trailing wisp of the sea breeze chased after her as she left, toying with her jacket and hair.
Sorey watched her leave, concern clear on his face.
The therion had been noticeably more silent than usual. In the short time in which he'd come to know the strange former Lord of Calamity, he'd grown keenly cognizant of her tendency to stifle her own feelings, contently acting in the roles the world had seen fit to label her without a care of the person who she was. Right now, heedless of her hard exterior, he could tell that she had been affected by her encounter with the group of refugees.
Yet he could see no way he could help; no way to correct her self-destructive actions and thoughts as they occurred before his eyes, despite all that had transpired between the two. It was enough to drive him up a wall.
"Investigate the city for clues, huh?" Mikleo's words jerked Sorey's attention back to the group as they turned inwards in discussion. "That's easier said than done," he muttered, shaking his head. "The city covers a great deal of land and over half of the buildings are unoccupied. My knowledge of it is very limited – I don't even know who that statue is supposed to be." He gestured with his head towards the disfigured, featureless statue of the warrior standing in the center of the plaza.
Alisha's eyes travelled the length of the statue before arriving at the base, noting the worn plaque long since made illegible by the sea winds and spray. "It's likely that nobody does anymore. As I understand it, many such things in this city are just like that." She glanced around, surveying the hardened-looking citizens walking about the disparate plaza. "...I would suggest that we travel in pairs," she said, lowering her voice cautiously. "There is a reason for why this place is in such a state, after all."
Edna tilted her head to the side, her amber hair waving in the breeze. "Sure. We have to make sure you three don't get mugged blind, after all. Especially Sorey," she added matter-of-factly, settling the tip of her closed umbrella on the stones with an audible tap.
"I feel like I should be defending myself here," Sorey remarked with a subtle grin. With that, he reached over his shoulder to procure his copy of the Celestial Record. The weathered pages crackled as he flipped to the entry of Meliodas, displaying a rough map of the city to the others. "...Here," he provided. "If we split up like so, we can cover a good chunk of ground at once."
"Fine by me," Rose bobbed her head in acceptance of the plan. "Then let's going – we're burning daylight here!" She glanced over her shoulder at the silent wind seraph behind her. "You coming?"
Dezel crossed his arms in response. "Sure."
As the two left, Alisha blinked as Edna walked past her, only to stop and glance at her expectantly. "...Well?" the seraph asked rather impatiently.
The princess blinked a few more times at her before snapping to. "Oh! Yes, let us go, Edna," she agreed, joining the earth seraph as they departed in the opposite direction to Rose and Dezel.
In their wake, Mikleo gave Sorey a nod, wordlessly indicating his companionship. That left Lailah by herself, who shook her head gently in response to the Shepherd's questioning look. As they left to explore their own section of the city, she turned to face the rest of the plaza with a distant look forming in her eyes.
Her heels clicked rhythmically on the cracked and malformed cobblestones as she traversed the streets of Meliodas, absently staying out of the paths of the few humans walking the deserted passages. The designs of the surrounding buildings seemed to gape down at her with naked windows as eyes, accented with sharp, fragmented designs lining their dilapidated walls. Every turn seemed to elicit more of the strange feelings simmering in the murkiness of her mind, increasing the growing sensation in her chest.
She came to a halt in a shadowed alleyway and held a hand up to her head, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes. Yet try as she might, she was simply unable to pinpoint why she was feeling like so. The sensations were like fish in a rushing river that she grasped at in complete futility – infuriatingly close to something tangible. A frustrated huff escaped her lips as she snapped her eyes open and twisted around, blindingly rounding the corner and walking onward as if to escape the creeping feelings encroaching upon her mind.
A pair of hands suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders, forcibly jolting her from her stupor. Centuries of developed instincts directed her actions as she brought her hand up, mana flowing instantly at her command to form a fireball before her.
"Lailah!"
Velvet's voice cut through the air with sharp clarity, causing the flames in her palm to go out immediately. She blinked rapidly, the world fading back into clarity before her eyes.
The therion held her hands on her shoulders, holding her steady before the ankle-high planter that she had been about to trip over. The two of them stood in what appeared to be an overgrown courtyard in the center of an abandoned building complex, the sun shining high in the sky above the skeletons of dead trees leaning overhead. A pair of roosting pigeons, startled by the loud noise, took flight from one of the many darkened windows looking out into the courtyard.
Lailah caught her breath as the sound of the fluttering pigeons faded, meeting the therion's inquisitive expression with an embarrassed yet grateful look. "Thank you, Velvet," she mumbled self-consciously, steadying herself with her help. "It would seem that my mind wandered off."
Velvet examined her with careful eyes as she let go of her shoulders. "...Is something the matter?" she asked as she took a step back, returning the seraph's space. There was a surprising degree of care in her gaze that gave Lailah all the more reason to wave her hands in the air.
"I-I was merely being a little silly, that's all," she promised with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "It's no cause for concern." When the therion continued to watch her, unconvinced by her words, she moved to swiftly change the subject.
Her heels sank into the overgrown grass as she turned around, pivoting her head to observe the surrounding courtyard. "This is such a strange place," she remarked aloud, her eyes following the curtains of vines trailing in parallel down from the upper levels of the surrounding buildings. "The styles of these buildings truly are of a different age to those of this era. Even the sanctuary in which I resided for so long bears no resemblance to these places."
Despite the painfully transparent attempt to change the subject, Velvet chose to let it go. "That's right," she replied, crossing her arms. "I was watching when Sorey drew that sword and formed the pact with you in Ladylake." She tilted her head slightly to the side, curiosity in her gaze. "How long were you in that sword for?"
"Oh, my!" Lailah gasped suddenly, bending over and staring intently at an object atop the encasing bricks of one of the courtyard planters. "Look, Velvet! This rock..." she urged enthusiastically, staring at the rock with a near manic fixation. "Do you see how round it is? How perfectly smooth it is...?"
Velvet's expression had fallen into a deadpan. She didn't bother replying.
Stars sparkled in the fire seraph's eyes as she shot upright with the stone in question in her hands, chirping, "It's a masterpiece! Why, it could even be a symbol of the great Arma Dylan's perfection. Utterly a-stone-ishing!" Her charmed punchline echoed off the surrounding walls of the abandoned building, irritating the ears of her unimpressed audience.
In the silence that had fallen in the wake of her pun, Velvet's eyes abruptly transitioned from irritated to predatory, an unsettling smile forming on her lips. Her carved stage expression straining her face muscles, Lailah swallowed nervously at the intimidating sight. "Oh really?" The therion's words were casual yet somehow also dripped liberally with malicious intent. "Remind me Lailah, how did you end up meeting Maotelus?" she asked offhandedly.
Like clockwork, the seraph spun to the side in a full revolution, madly affixing her gaze to the brilliant stone in her hands. "With such smoothness, I might be able to compete in the normin centennial marble race!" she breathed. "I could place in the top tier – orb even better!"
Without giving her a chance to take a breath, Velvet gave her a curious glance. "I suppose it's worth asking again," she added, shifting on her feet. "Why did he entrust the silver flame to you?"
"In truth, this rock is truly too valuable of a find to be wasted on something as menial as a marble race," Lailah refuted urgently, shaking her head. "...No, I've decided," she proclaimed, "I shall use this masterpiece in a different roll."
"He must've trusted you a great deal to have given you his powers," Velvet pondered absently, holding a finger to her lips in thought, "...or he was just desperate. One way or another, things ended up with him being corrupted and under Heldalf's control." Her eyes narrowed in on the seraph, her brow furrowing. "Just what happened, Lailah?"
Panic seeped in the other woman's eyes as she floundered for a brief moment before regaining her bearings. "T-that's it!" she declared, raising a decisive finger in the air. "I shall provide it to the seraphic geologist's association! Thus, we as a society can benefit from a more well-rounded understanding of such things..."
Silence formed in the wake of her words, cold and unyielding in the midst of the motionless, forgotten courtyard. Lailah dropped her gaze and flinched sheepishly at Velvet's expression of dry amusement. "T-that was the best I could do with what I had!" she declared defensively, holding her so-precious rock closely to her chest as heat rose to color her cheeks.
Velvet let out an amused chuckle as she laid a hand on her hip, giving her a forgiving look. "It's alright, Lailah. I understand," she replied, well aware of how the seraph felt about the restrictions of her oath when it came to the group's objectives. A stray memory bubbled to the back of her mind, causing her to add as an afterthought, "...If anything, I'm accustomed to the jokes. My older sister used to crack stupid ones like that all the time."
Curiosity formed on Lailah's expression at the foreign piece of information of the ambiguous hellion. She tilted her head, striving to be delicate as she carefully asked, "Your older sister?"
Overgrown grass crunched gratuitously under Velvet's boots as she turned to the side, striding past the planters towards the center of the hallowed courtyard where the largest of the dead trees stood. Despite how entirely irrelevant the information was to the situation and the task at hand, she found the words escaping her lips easily. "Yeah. Celica always knew what to say to lighten up any situation. If any of us were fighting, she'd try and distract us by making some horrible, horrible joke," she recalled aloud, gazing up at the limbs of the naked trees. She shook her head in amusement at the warm, fuzzy and indistinct memories bubbling to the surface in kind. "It ended up working more often than not."
The therion's tone was so starkly different as she spoke – a soft and tender description that contrasted starkly with what the acts Lailah knew she had done and moreover were capable of. It was a side of her that rarely surfaced. Lailah strove to keep it aloft for longer. "She sounds like a wonderful person," she remarked kindly, entwining her hands before her dress. "Was she perhaps the one who taught you to cook so well?"
The memories of lessons came unbidden to Velvet's mind, appearing clairvoyantly despite all the time that had passed. The laughter of her sister that had echoed around the warm house awash with sunlight at her innocent, childish questions. A smile spread on her face as she nodded. "She taught me everything our mom knew about cooking, and much, much more," she explained tenderly. "Like... how to make the most of my money when grocery shopping. The stuff rice water can be used for. Cleaning my plate properly. How to use sugar to help a bump on the head." Her gaze drifted down the length of the dead tree before her, her expression fading into melancholy in the silence of the deserted courtyard. "...What it means to be alive," she added quietly.
The warmth of the past seemed to dissipate like the embers of a dying flame as the darker memories encroached upon her mind, reawakened by her unusual reverie.
Lailah tilted her head slightly at the somber words, recognizing the significance of those words to the therion, even if they held little to herself. It was clear that the hardened woman that was her companion had been through a great, great deal. The times which she would simply gaze into nothingness spoke volumes to that effect. This time however, she felt the strong desire to intervene between her and the ill thoughts she harbored.
"He mentioned something about that, if I recall things properly," she remarked aloud, treading carefully with her strategically emphasized words. "I do not believe that it made too much sense to me at the time, however." Velvet blinked as she registered the unspoken meaning behind the words. She turned to the side to face the seraph with a curious expression as she elaborated, "We did not exchange a great deal of words. Yet, the one time that He did refer to you directly during one of our conversations, I recall Him saying something that seemed particularly strange."
A soft, understanding smile spread on her face as she met Velvet's eyes. "I believe he said you were 'a nag,'" she recalled, amusement clear on her face. She shook her head, adding, "Naturally, I hadn't the faintest notion of how that description could apply to a prior Lord of Calamity at the time. He provided no more insight into the matter to me however, so I thought nothing more of it." She tilted her head to the side coyly. "From what I gather from the lessons of your older sister as well as how you berate our poor Shepherd and his own habits, I believe I understand it better now."
Despite herself, Velvet exhaled in an incredulous huff and glanced to the side, putting both hands on her hips. "...That little brat," she muttered, her words warm. Heedless of the thoughts that had been swirling around in her mind, she found resounding clarity in the vision of the malak that she had given a name. No matter what, she remembered, she would do everything she needed to do to save him. Everything.
By her side, her bandaged hand curled.
Lailah's heels fell on crushed grass as she stepped up to Velvet, her long hair swaying behind her back. "We should return to the search," she proposed gently, an encouraging smile on her face. Velvet hesitated for a brief moment, her brow furrowing as she noticed something seeming... off about the seraph's face. Yet she quickly dismissed the thought and nodded in affirmation, choosing to focus on the task at hand. Together, the seraph and the hellion turned around and headed for the exit, leaving the dead trees of the overgrown courtyard standing in solitude once more.
The muffled chatter of patrons on the patio of the first-floor bar drifted aimlessly through the glass windows, meshing with the crackling of the hearth to create a mellow atmosphere within the warmly lit room. The members of the Shepherd's group sat assembled near the heat of the fire in the inn room they had reserved, settling down after a long day of travel and investigation. Outside, the silhouette of the waning moon hovered just over the buildings on the other side of the street amidst a cold, cloudy night.
Sorey let out a disappointed sigh as he leaned back in his cross-legged position on the floor. "...Nothing at all, huh?" he asked. In response, the group shook their heads.
"Basically," Rose agreed, stepping up and plopping down beside the heat of the flames with a rather tired sigh. "Nobody that we bothered knew a thing about Heldalf." She shrugged idly, adding, "The gang of street rats who tried to swipe my things didn't seem have much to say about him either."
Sitting atop her bed near the hearth, Alisha shook her head again. "Edna and I similar fortunes," she explained sadly, holding her arm close to her chest. "We failed to discover anything that might've indicated the presence of a corrupted iris gem the likes of which we saw in Lastonbell."
Edna's boots sank into the rug as she walked over to the group, a steaming bowl full of soup in her hands. "All the humans were talking about was the coup in Rolance and how sluggish they felt," she added disinterestedly, sitting down on the floor while exhaling to help cool down her supper. "Nothing about freak storms or monsters."
"It was the same for the two of us," Mikleo said, shaking his head. "We even managed to find the exact places that were shown in the memory and looked in the surroundings for clues. But we found nothing." He frowned, leaning forward in the chair upon which he sat. "The city's just too big and too empty. Looking for clues about a single man is like looking for a needle in a haystack," he stated.
"...Be that as it may, we can't stay here forever," Sorey concluded, sitting forward in his seat with a contemplative expression. He shook his head, making a point to meet the gazes of everyone present. "We'll probably have to write this one off, guys. I'm sorry for wasting everybody's time," he said. At his side, the fire burned brightly in the hearth, bathing his curled figure in a stark light.
Rose tilted her head to the side understandingly, waving a reassuring hand. "Hey, no need for the long face. It was worth a shot in the first place – it's better that now we know for sure."
"Hmph." Dezel crossed his arms as he leant back on the wall beside the hearth. "If you say so," he muttered, doubt clear in his words.
The crackling of the fire and the din of the downstairs conversations filled the silence that followed. Edna sipped carefully from the hot bowl of soup where she sat. Alisha turned to her bedside, searching around through her travel pack for something in particular. With his crossed hands supporting his chin, Sorey stared into the flames with a slight frown on his face. "...I was so sure that the city was a clue in the memory," he mumbled contemplatively, furrowing his brow.
The crackling of the fire continued unerringly in the silence.
Slowly, the hairs on the back of Sorey's neck rose as he began to feel that there was something amiss. His gaze rose with increasing focus and alertness, meeting the confused gazes of the rest of the group in kind as they seemed to arrive at the same conclusion as well. They glanced around with wordless caution, all of a sudden on edge despite how normal everything seemed to be. In the background, the hearth continued to burn, merrily and noisily.
"...Sorey."
The group turned to where Velvet sat curled up against one of the windowsills, gazing down into the streets below. She turned her head to face them in the silence, a deeply serious expression on her face. "They're asleep," she said.
It was then that Sorey realized just had seemed off. The rumbling sound of conversation downstairs had abruptly halted, extinguished like the flame of a candle, leaving naught but a deathly, haunting silence behind. His boots sank into the rug underfoot as he got to his feet, walking up to Velvet's side to look down through the window into the still night beyond.
Bodies littered the patio of the bar downstairs, slumped over tables in pools of spilled drinks and collapsed bodily upon the wooden planks underfoot. The few passerby in the street too appeared to have fallen forward midstride, their limbs splayed around them on the cold and jagged cobblestones. Only the subtle rising and falling of their chests indicated that the people raggedly strewn about in the night below were still alive, all collectively asleep under the spell of an unnatural slumber.
Sorey and Velvet exchanged a serious glance. Nothing more had to be said.
The cold night air kissed their cheeks as they ventured out of the entrance to the inn into the abnormally still night air. Above, the partially filled moon radiated a soft, diffused blue light behind the rooves of the opposite buildings, shading the street with ominously long shadows that sought to overtake the glimmering lanterns and torches still burning brightly where they hung.
A stray breeze blew down the length of the rows of ancient buildings, eliciting a shiver to run down Sorey's spine as he hesitantly nudged the shoulder of a man who had collapsed on the street in front of the inn. The man shuddered at the contact, his face scrunching up as if in fear, yet remained in a deep slumber regardless. The Shepherd stood with narrowed eyebrows; his suspicions confirmed.
"I sense a great source of malevolence emanating from deeper in the city," Lailah stated softly, her heels clicking in the stones as she stepped forward. She swept her gaze around at the humans lying inanimate before them, her long hair waved in the cold night breeze. "Sorey's hypothesis may be proven correct yet," she noted.
"Yes," Alisha nodded seriously, readily feeling the battle lance strapped onto her back. "Let us not tarry in doing so." With her words, the group set off into the night towards the center of the ghost city, littered by the unconscious bodies of its absent citizens.
The waning moon hanging low in the cloudy skies was their only companion as they traversed the deserted intersections and lonely alleyways, their every sense on edge. In the haunting stillness, the long shadows seemed to take on lives of their own, grasping out with jagged limbs having already doomed so many lives to slumber. Their footfalls upon the stones were deafening – their every step a great disturbance in an otherwise all-consuming silence in a frozen place.
Mikleo crossed his arms and glanced at Edna. "I guess now we know why everyone was feeling sluggish," he supposed quietly. He put a hand to his chin, glancing to the side as the group passed a couple who had fallen in the street beside one another. "I can't imagine that the health of the citizens has been improving if this sort of thing has been happening every night," he remarked. "This isn't normal."
"...Now that you mention it," Rose considered as she glanced to the side, alertly scanning the gaping windows and doorways of the abandoned ancient buildings as they passed, "Dezel and I did hear a group of people talking about weird accidents happening in the city. Stuff like people supposedly just dropping dead in the streets."
"Oh no," Lailah breathed. "Could such things be happening because of this?"
"Sounds like it's possible. All the more reason to find the source and put an end to this," Sorey concluded grimly, stepping forward with renewed purpose in his stride. "C'mon, guys," he urged.
The feeling of the malevolence only grew stronger the deeper they traversed into the dead city, permeating through the air in steady, pulsating waves. They followed the sensation, navigating through the streets between increasingly taller buildings illuminated by rare streetlights and strewn with more and more unconscious people. It was merely a matter of time before they located the true source in the plaza from which they had first begun their search earlier in the day.
The one-armed, disfigured statue stood tall in the circular plaza just as it had in the day, raising its longsword defiantly into the air before the vast expanse of the moonlit ocean. Groups of people were scattered about the open space, all in various states of disarray lying where they had fallen amidst the freezing sea breeze washing across the cobblestones with impunity. The group stepped guardedly into the silent scene, their weapons drawn and held at the ready as they directed their gazes towards the source of it all. Sorey blinked at the sight that awaited him.
The owl blinked back, its eyes shining past the putrid waves of malevolence oozing out of its body. The abnormally large avian had alighted upon the stones under the shadow of the one-armed statue, its brilliant golden feathers ruffling slightly in the ebbing and flowing winds of the ocean behind it. In the light of the waning moon, the animal seemed content to simply watch as the group approached it, a strange curiosity in its corrupted eyes.
Sorey slowly straightened, loosening his wary grip upon the pommel of his sword in the presence of the strange, docile hellion. He glanced back at the rest of the group, pointing towards the gleaming purple orb embedded in the corrupted animal's chest. Velvet returned his gaze, nodding wordlessly.
Together, the two of them stepped forward, the rest of the group standing warily at the ready behind them. The owl hellion did nothing more but tilt its head slightly as the human and therion neared it. Another cool sea breeze blew from the vast expanse of the night ocean beyond, catching and wafting both Velvet's hair and Sorey's cloak as they came to a halt before it.
Sorey exchanged a glance with his companion before he swiftly brought his left hand up, the Shepherd's emblem gleaming in the moonlight. Their world burst into a conflagration of silver flames, followed by an all-encompassing wave of darkness.
Thick tendrils of ungodly malevolence gripped and clawed at him from all directions, completely enveloping his form in an oppressive, overwhelming blanket of miasma. He gritted his teeth as he regained his awareness, striving hard to ignore the horrid sensation as the awful memories of his last time in such a place forced shivers of phantom agony down his spine. It was all around him and everywhere – it was as if he were drowning far, far beneath the surface of the ocean, his life slowly being squeezed out of his lungs as the unimaginable expanse of malevolence engulfed him.
Velvet's claw extruded outward with an audible squelch, emerging from her sheathe of bandages to gorge upon the feast of malevolence. The unsettling gulping of the monstrous arm reverberating in the air, Sorey exhaled a shaky breath of relief as the pressure eased from his body. After a moment, he gathered his wits and cracked his eyes open, allowing the murky, tainted light to flood his vision.
The city of Pendrago sprawled out before him, a sea of shingled rooves of buildings linked by a complex web of narrow cobblestone streets that spilled out into the vast, hazy expanse of the Pearloats Pasture beyond, barely contained by the tall and unyielding stone walls wrapping around its borders. The sun hung overhead in the hazy sky, its dim light meekly penetrating the plumes of malevolence hovering ominously above the city to illuminate the paths of the many citizens traversing the bustling metropolis.
His racing heart slowly calming in his chest, Sorey took another deep breath, turning his gaze from his surroundings towards the clawed therion standing by his side. "...Thanks," he exhaled gratefully, eyeing the vast amounts of malevolence actively being absorbed by the therion's claw with each passing moment.
She gave him a meaningful look in return, gesturing with her head to the side. "Come on," she urged simply, turning to face the busy city street behind them. Her meaning was clear – they had little time. He replied with a nod, steeling himself to complete the task at hand. Together, the two stepped down from the raised dais overlooking the city to descend into the ebbing and flowing crowds of people below.
It did not take them very long at all to register the commotion. Cheers and cries of joy echoed off the walls of the surrounding buildings, drawing their attention to a procession of armored bannermen parting the crowd at the end of the street. Their silver armor glinted brightly even amidst the hazy sunlight as they marched, proudly decorated with the familiar rich red and gold colors of the Platinum Knights.
Through the vast crowds separating them and the procession, Sorey caught a brief glimpse of a lone figure walking in the center of the royal escort – a man garbed in a deep black and gold attire striding forward with power and confidence in his every move. The question of his identity was rendered non-existent by the roaring chants of the crowd.
"HELDALF! HELDALF! HELDALF!"
The two eventually managed to push through the cheering people enough to gain a better view, just in time to watch the revered general, using the path cleared by his guard, disappear within the shadowed entryway of a rather small building at the end of the street. The wooden door shut firmly behind him with an audible thunk, blocked bodily by the dozens of Platinum Knights guarding their charge. The crowd's cries grew to a climax at the man's departure, filled with joyful whooping, cheering, and whistling.
Amidst the clamor of the surrounding people, Sorey crossed his arms and glanced sidewise at Velvet with a thoughtful expression on his face. "You said Heldalf was the general of the Rolance army, right?" he asked, sweeping his gaze at the enthusiastic gazes of the cheering people around him. "...I'm guessing this must be during the height of his time," he deduced absently. "The people here sure love him."
At his side, Velvet's eyes carefully scrutinized the guarded doorway where the general had disappeared through. Amidst the crowd and the dozens of well-trained knights, the odds of forcing their way through unscathed appeared to be slim. "We'll have to break in somehow," she concluded, narrowing her eyes. "He has to be the subject of the memory."
Following her gaze, Sorey frowned, also considering the predicament at hand. After a moment, he blinked as he noticed the empty alleyway resting alongside an adjacent building. He nudged Velvet. "I have an idea," he confided, gesturing towards the alleyway. "It's about something that Rose and the other Scattered Bones members taught me."
Inside, the joyful calls of the crowd grew muffled by the walls of polished oak wood, allowing the sound of Heldalf's boots landing upon the creaking planks to resound in the silence as he turned the corner of the hallway. His royal coat sweeping behind him, the general stepped through the entryway and down the steps into the main body of the tavern that was completely deserted save for a lone man seated at a table in the center of the room. A man with dirty blonde hair in a dark blue jacket wearing a single black fingerless glove on his left hand.
The seated man glanced up from the opened book lying on the table at the sound of Heldalf's footsteps, a steeled, expectant expression on his face as he watched him approach. The general's steps fell rhythmically on the wood as he strode past the vacant tables and chairs towards him, holding the man's gaze with his own. His steps came to an abrupt halt as he stopped before the table, glancing down at the book lying open on the table. His expression was carved from stone.
"...Do you ever ponder how the two of us ended up as such?" Heldalf's voice thrummed with a slightly dulled yet nonetheless authoritative edge that resounded in the confined space of the empty tavern.
In response to his words, the other man tilted his head slightly to the side, a distant expression on his face. "Not a day passes in which I do not," he replied, idly playing with the writing quill in his bare right hand. "I do believe you to be the most impressive out of the two of us, however," he added smoothly. "From lowly gutter rat to General of the Rolance Army. Truly an astonishing tale."
Heldalf gave the seated man an assertive look, gesturing meaningfully at the partially inscribed book on the table. "One that you have been refraining from telling, I trust," he added pointedly. "Adoption by a royal family is hardly a worthwhile story to tell in a tome relating to the history of the world."
"So you always say," the other man replied drearily, waving his gloved hand in the air. "Never mind how that story started with you stealing the purse of a noble." He chuckled dryly at the familiar recollection. In response to the general's wordless glare, he splayed his hand open in surrender, reassuring, "Do not fret, Heldalf. I have mentioned your existence in my writing equally as many times as I have mentioned my own." His hand fell to the table as he glanced down at the partially finished page in front of him. "That is to say, none."
Heldalf grunted in satisfaction, returning his gaze to the familiar man before him. "...It is good to see you again, old friend," he uttered after a pause, extending a hand in offering.
The other reciprocated without hesitation, standing from his seat to clasp the general's hand and bring him into an embrace, a smile clear on his face. "Likewise," he promised.
It was at that moment that footsteps echoed in the hallway behind them, drawing their attention to someone else stepping into the quiet tavern. The two separated from their embrace, Heldalf turning towards the newcomer with a calm expression on his face. "Brother," the general greeted, gesturing with his head towards the man standing beside him. "This is the man of whom I spoke. Consider yourself fortunate – he is a particularly difficult person to find."
His brother gave the stranger a friendly smile as he approached. "I will indeed," he answered Heldalf's words happily as he came to a halt. "I've heard the rumors, of course, but I'd never thought I'd actually see a man like you in person." He bent over in a deeply respectful bow, before reaching out and offering his left hand in greeting. "The name is Eric Heldalf, sir," he stated warmly. "Words cannot express how truly honored I am to meet a Shepherd of legend such as yourself – I thank you greatly for coming here on my behalf."
The other man in the dark blue jacket had a kind smile on his face as he grasped Eric Heldalf's hand with his gloved left hand wearing emblazoned with the sigil of the Shepherd.
"Michael," he replied, shaking the man's hand with a tight grip. "Worry not – a brother of Heldalf's is a brother of mine," he reassured firmly. "I would be glad to assist you with your dilemma."
On the other side of the tavern, standing behind the entryway to the bar of the tavern, Sorey's expression had fallen into one of complete befuddlement.
"Shepherd... Michael?" he mumbled under his breath; confusion clear in his expression. He exchanged a look with Velvet standing across the doorway to him. "But the Celestial Record didn't mention anything about a Shepherd in the past 200 years – could it have been mistaken...?" he asked helplessly.
Velvet glanced at him, a focused expression on her face as she absorbed the implications of it all. There were too many to consider at that moment. She shook her head sharply, dismissing the thoughts from her head and instead focusing on the task at hand. "Whatever the case, we're almost out of time," she whispered, drawing Sorey's attention away from his raging thoughts and to the pulsing arm dangling off her frame at her side. "We need to move, now."
After a brief moment of hesitation, he nodded his head, choosing to file the revelation away for later analysis. "...Okay," he agreed quietly, steeling himself. "Then let's go."
With coordinated movements, the two lunged through the entryway and into the tavern, clearing the height of the bar in a single leap and falling upon their alarmed targets before they could react properly. Velvet slashed her demonic arm through the air with a cry as she fell, slamming her razor-sharp claw into Eric Heldalf and tossing him bodily across the length of the tavern with a pained cry. Sorey thrust his palm outward the moment he landed, making contact with the body of the man named Michael and sending him sprawling with a deafening blast of mana.
"You would dare?!" Heldalf's furious roar echoed in amidst the confines of the isolated space as he whirled backwards, his sword singing as he drew it from the sheath at his waist. "Who are you?!" he demanded, his eyes shooting between Sorey and Velvet as they faced off against him as one. Wordlessly, Sorey shot a confirming glance at Velvet who responded in kind. In the next heartbeat, the two charged forward, their boots slamming on the wooden floorboards and their weapons singing as they tore through the air towards the general, who gritted his teeth and readied his stance.
His expression suddenly relaxed.
"...Ah, Shepherd." Even as they neared him, he slowly glanced off to the side, a thoughtful look forming on his face. "...I see," he observed markedly. "So he is reacting to your presence."
Sorey blinked in confusion.
BOOM!
With a violent, all-encompassing detonation, the tavern suddenly tore apart, the walls, floor, and ceiling rupturing in jagged lines of blinding malevolence. Thrown off-balance by the violent trembling of the floor, the two grounded to a halt and braced themselves, casting about wildly as the memory around them began to crumble. The reeling figures of Eric Heldalf and of the Shepherd Michael dissolved amidst the chaos, joining the remainder of the memory as it was relegated to nothing but a dark void of miasma.
Then, in the very next moment, Sorey found himself standing in snow.
He whirled around in confusion, his heart racing inside his chest as he struggled to comprehend the dramatic change in his surroundings. He was thankful when he noted that Velvet still stood at his side despite the chaos, until he belatedly registered the expression on her face. An entangled mix of emotions clearly and visibly warred for dominance within his companion as she stared at the sight before her. Slowly, Sorey followed her gaze, taking in the world in which he now stood.
The sharp, acidic smell of smoldering sulfur permeated the freezing cold air, the light snowfall tainted with traces of ash. A haunting silence dominated the world, punctuated only by the crackling of residual flames and the haunting moan of the frigid sea breeze. Naval vessels of sizes that Sorey had only ever seen depicted in ancient textbooks groaned miserably from where they laid, their bent and contorted masts protruding out from the frigid waters beside the docks.
On the ground before them laid dozens of dead bodies, their limbs contorted at unnatural angles. Snow alighted softly upon the metal of their unmoving armor, soaking up the blood while slowly burying each corpse where they had fallen within shadow graves. Claw marks streaked gratuitously across the ground, ripping deep grooves into the stone of the port and occasionally intersecting with where a soldier had fallen, his armor crushed like tinfoil in the path of a beast's rampage.
Sorey felt sick.
Despite all the time that had passed, the appearance of the scene of Hellawes in flames, violently rendered in the stark lighting of hazy malevolence, unleashed a sudden onslaught of memories in Velvet's mind. She recalled it all in a single instant. The screams of her victims. The crying and cursing of the people that she harmed. The searing hatred and lust for vengeance. The name of her brother, and the name of his killer. It was as if a bound wound that had sat for weeks had been torn violently open once more.
She curled her daemon claw into a tight fist and bit her lip hard, welcoming the spike of pain as it tore through her spiraling mind. None of this was new. She had something else to focus on. With that universally grounding thought, the Lord of Calamity's eyes sharpened with acute clarity. Her gaze locked onto the one thing that did not correctly match the memories of the scene.
Heldalf's gaze was affixed on her from where he stood before the ruined docks, wordlessly observing her reaction. A cold sea breeze swept from the south, causing his black and gold military coat to ripple behind him. Amidst the silence of the scene of death, the man spoke, his lower, guttural voice the one that they were both familiar with.
"This memory is of great significance to him," he observed aloud, moving his gaze slowly about the desecrated port. "It was the first to emerge when he sensed your presence."
Tearing his eyes away from the bodies at his feet, Sorey struggled to comprehend what the man was saying. "'Him?'" he mumbled.
"Maotelus." Velvet did not tear her gaze away from Heldalf as she answered the Shepherd, crossing her arms before her chest. "...In the last gem, we heard his voice. He said my name," she muttered. Her eyes soon narrowed at the one who was responsible for it all. "This isn't just a tampered iris gem," she growled. "It's something different, isn't it?"
The human figure of the Lord of Calamity nodded his head, a pleased expression on his face as he laid his hand on the pommel of his sword. "These fragments contain his memories of the world, drawn by my command." His regal boots crackled upon the icy stones of the port as he turned and strolled to the side, idly examining his human hands as he did so. "As such, they are connected to him, as extensions of his domain."
Velvet's eyes narrowed. "...All this malevolence is coming from him, then," she realized darkly, glancing around at the all-encompassing haze of malevolence still continuously seeping through her arm by her side. Her lips drew tightly in a wordless, restrained fury.
Snow crackled under Sorey's boot as he stepped forward in the wake of Heldalf's words. "Why?! he demanded urgently, slowly putting the pieces together in his mind. "Why would you extract and plant these memories for us to find? What are you after?"
The hellion came to a halt at the Shepherd's words, his eyes staring off into the distance beyond. The falling snow mixed with ash alighted in his golden hair, of no consequence to him as he seemed to ponder the question for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was candid.
"You intrigue me, Shepherd," he stated plainly. He turned around, affixing his gaze to Sorey's with a calm expression on his face. "During our first encounter, I saw nothing but white purity synonymous with the naïve concept of a Shepherd." He tapped a single finger on the pommel of his decorated sword, his gaze shifting towards the woman standing by his side.
"Yet I had grossly misjudged the truth. Heedless of the manipulations I enacted, to goad your pure and naïve self into self-righteousness, you never once acted how you should have." He shook his head, curiosity plain in his expression. "...Thus, I find that I wish to see what a Shepherd such as yourself will choose to do when you truly understand," he stated quietly, holding Sorey's gaze. "When you have been shown all that needs to be shown."
Sorey frowned at the strange intensity in the human Heldalf's eyes. Even though he was keenly aware of the true nature of the monster speaking to him, he could not help but consider how human the Lord of Calamity was behaving. It reminded him far too keenly of another.
As if reading his mind, Heldalf spoke once more, his words drifting in the frigid air of the blood-soaked docks, "For the sins of the past speak volumes for the present."
Sorey's jaw set as his gaze was inevitably drawn back to the corpses lying in the snow, surrounded by sets of the infinitely familiar claw marks of his companion. Slowly, his eyes rose towards where she stood in the snow, watching him with a stoic expression on her face. Her posture was casual – the message in her eyes clear.
He had known from the very beginning that the woman who had lied about her true name to him had a darkness that she kept contained within herself. He had watched as the clawed hellion tore apart and devoured hellions that could have been saved. He had seen the memories planted by Heldalf that had depicted her in her relentless conquest, crushing all who had gotten in his way. He himself had experienced firsthand the callousness of Velvet Crowe as she lied and manipulated him as a tool for her own uses, to be thrown away if proven unfit for the job. Now here she stood, uncaringly, with the bloody bodies at her feet – a visceral, real memory, fully accompanied by the smell of death and ash.
Yet, she had been there with him, in the times when he needed it the most. Through all of the lies and manipulation, she had guided him to this point, for better or for worse. She had cared for him and his friends, even when it wasn't necessary for her goals. She held a human side within herself that she actively refused to recognize. Heedless of her sins, heedless of the blood that she had spilt, he had made a decision that night in the wilderness of Lakehaven Heights to help her.
And that was what he planned to do.
Having firmly reminded himself of his true beliefs, Sorey's grip on his sword tightened as he turned to face Heldalf, determination etched into his expression. His boots crackled in the snow as he stepped over the bodies, walking towards the general watching him with an intent gaze. "Fine," he said, his voice echoing amidst the destroyed docks. "I'll do my best to try and understand what you have to show me." He came to a halt before Heldalf, his lips upturning into a frown as he carefully studied the image of the man that the hellion had once been.
"...But know that we will stop you." His words were absolute, his gaze hard as he drew his sword back, the Shepherd's cloak fluttering behind him as he did so. "We will save Maotelus from you, no matter what," he promised grimly. His ceremonial sword slid deep into the general's stomach with a wet squelch, spurts of blood oozing out from the wound and staining his royal black attire.
Heldalf failed to react in agony despite the blade in his stomach. Instead, he took a single step back, the blade still embedded in him, and met the Shepherd's gaze. There was almost a kind of sadness in his eyes.
"I expect nothing less," he promised quietly. With that, he stepped backwards and fell off the edge of the pier, his bloodstained coat wrapping his body plunging into the freezing cold waters below.
The splash of impact caused a dull thrum to echo throughout the world, the surrounding scene in the ancient port city beginning to waver in form and color as if melting. Having done what needed to be done, Sorey turned to face Velvet amidst the fading dream, his expression softening. She returned his gaze peculiarly, surprise evident in her expression. In doing so, she failed to notice as the corpses at her feet and the torn and burnt buildings of Hellawes faded, engulfing both her and the Shepherd in an endless expanse of nothingness.
The silver flames of purification glistened blindingly in the night air, throwing the rest of the moonlit plaza in stark lighting and framing the figures of Velvet and Sorey as they reappeared amidst the conflagration. They blinked in disorientation at the abrupt transition from the memory, their eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness of night.
Sorey's eyebrows furrowed as he eventually registered that the flames were failing to purify their target. The golden owl hellion still perched near motionlessly before the two of them, watching them with intermittently blinking eyes as the flames of purification puttered uselessly against its vibrant hide. Regardless of how much power he channeled with his left hand splayed out before him, there was no effect upon the hellion.
After a moment longer, he curled his hand into a fist.
The flames cut off immediately in response, falling into small embers that quickly vanished, leaving the owl hellion unscathed on the cobblestones before them. In the absence of the crackling of the flames, the two of them were able to register the low groaning of the groups of people lying on the stones slowly regaining consciousness. Sorey glanced around at the humans blearily rising to their feet and nodded to himself as he made a decision. He took a step back and met the strange hellion's inhuman gaze, deliberately raising and then sheathing the sword in his hand with a quiet squeal of metal on metal.
At his side, Velvet raised an eyebrow as his actions. "You're letting it go?" she asked.
He nodded wordlessly, maintaining eye contact with the enormous owl. It stared back at him; boundless intelligence clear in its amber eyes. Then, after a moment longer, it spread its wings and pushed itself up into the air with the aid of its legs and the powerful sea breeze. It soared upwards into the moonlit sky like a golden star, quickly receding into the darkness as it departed into the heavens.
In its wake, Sorey turned to face Velvet, a calm expression on his face. "Remember what I said in Ladylake," he reminded her, his lips spreading into a soft smile. "My dream is to bring about a world in which all beings willing to coexist can thrive. I meant what I said, Velvet. I'm not backing down from that – not for a moment."
She blinked. Of all the things that she had been anticipating the Shepherd to say in the aftermath of the bloody scene that had been so suddenly drawn from her past, that had not been one of them. She narrowed her eyes almost imperceptibly, closely scrutinizing his expression for any hint of duplicity. After a long moment, having found none, she finally shook her head in exasperation. "...You're annoyingly stubborn, you know that?" she sighed, her lips twitching upward in a wry smile despite herself.
Sorey grinned brightly in response. His grin then disappeared as he cranked his mouth open into a wide yawn, his pent-up exhaustion seemingly settling in all of his limbs all at once and leaving him wavering on his feet.
Velvet crossed her arms and looked on with dry amusement as he struggled to even stay standing, lack of sleep and the long days of travel taking its toll on his body. "...You sure talk big for someone who can't even take proper care of themselves," she muttered. Her gaze rose as she noticed the remainder of the group running towards them from across the plaza. "Come on." She laid a supporting hand on his shoulder which he gratefully welcomed in his exhaustion.
Together, the two of them returned to the rest of the group underneath the shadow of the one-armed statue quietly watching the scene from above. Another stray ocean breeze arrived as they departed together, sweeping about the quiet plaza amidst the tranquil light of the waning moon.
A trace of a distant memory, fading soundlessly into the night.
Author's Note: For good measure, here's another update to commemorate the two-year anniversary of the creation of this fic. Thank you all so much for joining me!
Happy New Year, all.
- CloudFry, January 1st, 2021