Walking out of the Thanason camp, I embraced the beautiful stillness of night, relishing the cool wind on my face with Noah beside me.
The battle was over…we won.
It seemed impossible that it was all over.
Everyday had been a cycle of fighting and surviving. A dance against your opponent, a dance treading the line between life and death.
But now the dance was over, the play finished. Now, I'd wake up again, and not hear the sounds of an army assembling, but of men talking. Laughing even.
'I survived.'
This was only a battle. The war itself was far from over.
But I had done so much already. There was no doubt that I had succeeded in making some small name for myself. Saving General Thanason and him knowing it was good for my plan.
But more than that, I had changed the past. I had altered the novel despite how weak it was.
Now there was no Graveyard of the Thoracen Empire. No suffering loss.
Now Alara would still have her father.
We had been friends once. Good friends. She was a good friend to have. Fiercely loyal and smart, more than once using those skills to my benefit.
'We're almost even now.'
She had helped me many times in my childhood. In return, I saved her father. That was one debt belonging to the old Arthur paid.
I didn't even know how I'd tackle the other debt I held to her, but that was a problem for me in the future.
The air was crisp, cold, still carrying the metallic scent of battle. A heavy round moon hung mournfully low over the camp, its pale light reflecting the remnants of the war. Shattered weapons and corpses.
The battle had finished. But its cost would be felt for a long time.
But for now, the city was happy. Grief would come tomorrow, after the laughter had died down, leaving a silence that seemed a bit too empty.
Absently I rubbed more forehead where they had removed the brand. Well, they had only removed the magic within the brand. The scar was still there however, shaped on my forehead as a forever reminder of who I was.
For all the bluster of the magic being removed, I knew the truth.
I was still a slave, only now I had a different leash.
"So... you're really blessed by Hades, huh?" Noah's voice broke the silence, his tone light but carrying an edge of unease.
Glancing at him, I suppressed a smile.
"Yeah, you got anyone that needs haunting. I might know a ghost or two."
"Pfftt, I'll keep in mind" he chuckled.
"What about, aren't you blessed by Poseidon?"
Noah snorted, shaking his head. "No."
I froze, brows furrowing. In the novel Noah had been blessed by Poseidon. It hadn't been a powerful blessing, but Poseidon was Poseidon.
"Wait…what do you mean no? Who are you blessed by?"
He turned to me, a faint glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "Boreas. I've never heard of him, but he sounds strong."
Boreas? I cast my mind back, trying to remember the names of all the deities of the pantheon. "Boreas, isn't he the North wind? But aren't you a water affinity, how does that work?"
Noah shrugged, "My affinity changed. It's ice now."
"That's pretty good." Ice was a rare affinity to immediately awaken. It was usually an evolved affinity that Awakened achieved, though I wasn't sure how.
It was another reminder of how little I knew about the world. About my own abilities.
'I really need to get into that damn academy.'
"So what affinities do you have now?"
"Ice and wind, what about you?"
"Me? Honestly, I haven't actually checked." Ever since I had awakened, there were too many other things for me to have a chance to even look at my status.
'Status.'
NAME : Arthur Gravewalker
RACE: Human
TRAIT : UNKNOWN
BLESSINGS:
???'s blessingSkill gifted - Healing blood
Hades's blessingSkill gifted (locked)
AURA: LOCKED
BATTLE ART : [IMPERIAL SPEARMANSHIP] Apprentice mastery Lvl 2 (54%)
(NEW!) AFFINITIES : FIRE, (?), (?), (?), (?)
FIRE : Beginner - master Lvl 1 (0.1%)
BREATHING ART: N/A
SKILLS:
Mana Surge (common) Beginner - mastery Lvl 4 (43.1%)
Healing blood (???) Beginner - mastery Lvl 3 (10.7%)
(?????)
TALENT: UNMEASURED
STATS:
STRENGTH: G-
SPEED:G
STAMINA:G+
AGILITY:G
MENTAL:F+
MANA CONTROL: G-
CHARM:G+]
"Fire" I finally responded after a moment, brows furrowed as I reviewed my status properly for the first time.
There were too many question marks for my comfort.
'That either means I'm incredibly powerful, or incredibly crap.'
Noah frowned. "Is that all?"
"Well there's more, but it's all question marks."
"Ah, well that means you haven't unlocked the ability to use it then."
"How do I unlock it?"
"Get stronger" he replied simply.
"I need to work on this" I muttered. After seeing it for my own eyes, it was shocking how unbelievably weak I was.
'Damn, maybe I am actually lucky to survive this battle.'
"Officer Mara would probably help you out if you ask her."
"Yeah..probably, I did save her life." Still, the thought of talking to her again was slightly unnerving. We hadn't spoken since the day she had given me the necklace.
"I'm going to give myself a couple days first."
"Oh? And what are you planning to do in those days."
Shooting him a lazy smile I spread my arms out wide as if I was going to ascend to the sky. My eyes closed, the smile growing wider with anticipation.
"Sleep."
——————————————-
The office was dark.
There was no lamplight to provide any illumination. Today the moon was strong, providing enough light to illuminate a single figure sitting at the desk, hands on his chin, yellow eyes glinting dangerously.
His desk was cluttered with papers, battle reports, casualty lists and the paperwork of the trial proceedings. To an outsider, it would've looked like he was studying the documents.
But he wasn't.
His gaze was cast inwards, replaying his memories.
Each memory dug deeper in his psyche, like a splinter in his brain.
Arthur. Coward, failure, rapist.
Arthur, the one who had saved his life.
How could he reconcile the two?
Both sides of him fought. The father and the General were clashing for the first time in his life. Never before had Thanason been in a position where he was so conflicted.
Arthur had been weak. Selfish, a weak little brat. He had seen him occasionally from time to time, he was the Dukes' vassal, it was only natural he'd know Arthur.
And never once had he seen anything special about the boy. Nothing that resembled his father.
Until now that is. If it had been anyone else but him, Arthur would be considered a hero. But Thanason refused to accept it. Heroes weren't real, and certainly not real in the case of Arthur Gravewalker.
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Enter."
A soldier walked in and Thanason felt his temper flare.
"If it is those damn members of unit 7 again, inform them that both members of their unit have been RELEASED."
"Ahh, no sir" the soldier stammered. "There's a letter addressed for you personally."
"From who?"
"Officer James Skelter sir."
Thanason's expression flickered for a second. "I see, give it here."
The soldier handed him the letter, saluted, then left quickly.
For a long time, he simply stared at the unopened letter.
'James.'
That would be a loss he wouldn't swallow so easy. Sure it had been a while since they had seen eye to eye, but Thanason had loved James. He had been both like a younger brother, an ally, in the worst moments of his life, a friend.
It seemed almost impossible he was gone now…
But he was.
Grief was like a weight. It never left, you only grew better at lifting it. James wasn't the first loss he suffered, and he wouldn't be the last.
'Did you plan for your death James?'
Breaking the seal, he opened the letter.
'To General Thanason…
Have you ever had nightmares?
I've been having nightmares. Nightmares of dying. Always and every night. For most it would be considered normal during battle, a sign of trauma.
But I can't shake off the feeling that it's different this time.
So, just in case, I've decided to write letters just in case I do.
I have written a few letters. One to someone who could've been my master. One to my wife. One for each of my two children once they reach adulthood. Another to Officer Scarlet, and the final one to you. Please ensure they get to where they belong.
'The Dog of the Army.'
That was my title, forged from my devotion to you in my younger years. I was never ashamed of that title. It was always others who were ashamed on my behalf. I always saw it as a badge of honour.
If it wasn't for you, my life might've never changed from one of a petty thief. A beggar and nothing more.
Sometimes I wonder what made you take me in? What was it within me that resonated with you? Certainly there have been times where I thought perhaps you were mistaken.
And more times where I wondered that perhaps you saw something dark. Something that had to be contained and watched.
I certainly never discovered what it was.
But it was you who took me in, you who trained me and guided me. For that I say Thank You.
We might've not been close due to my choices in life. But know that the sentiment I had never changed. Not once.
I like to think that even if I spent the rest of my life in thanks, it wouldn't be enough. So I did it in action. Obeying your every order for as long as I could.
The burden you placed on me has never once been anything less than an honour.
But you always taught me to tie up loose ends, so if I die, I must rely on this letter to do it on my behalf.
Arthur Gravewalker.
Whoever Arthur is, from what I've seen, a criminal isn't it. I don't know how, but, I know criminals, I know how they look, how their sins sit in their heart.
Arthur simply isn't.
And so, I ask you once more, what did you see in me that day?
Because perhaps I see something like that in him…
And maybe you should also, if you look with a clear mind.
Give me a nice burial, keep an eye on Scarlet for me, she's never been good with grief.
OFFICER JAMES SKELTER.'
Thanason's hands trembled as he set the letter down.
"Haaah…you were always more convincing on paper than with words."
James had meant too much to dismiss his words so easily. So, if what James said was true, then something didn't make sense.
There were a few things needed to be investigated about Arthur. One of them being what really happened that damn day.
His gaze drifted to the darkened window, his reflection faintly visible against the night.
He barely recognized the man staring back at him. That man wasn't composed, or in control.
He was wide-eyed in grief, posture slumped and weary.
Not the man befitting of a General.
"What happened to you, Arthur?" he muttered, the words carrying both anger and something far more unsettling…doubt.