A middle-aged man was drinking his tea, seated on a nice sofa. The room was dimly lit by a single candle. The light danced before his eyes.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Come in!" the man shouted.
A young man entered and bowed. He was wearing what looked like a faded red poncho. His face was hidden under the hood.
"My deepest apologies, my lord."
"Late again, Izard..." said the man, the lord.
Izard was a young knight who had just graduated from the Vesperis Academy. He had sworn an oath of knighthood to Viscount Nirell.
"How is your mission progressing?"
"We've begun subjugating the heretics, my lord."
The Nirell house had taken him in when he was a child — just an orphan. Yes, the Nirell family were good people. After all, even though religion was not at the heart of the kingdom, the Nirell family firmly believed in Ilgraa, the god of kindness.
"How many have you dealt with?"
"Two so far. The third, as soon as the opportunity arises... but..."
The viscount stared at Izard, frowning.
"What's the problem?"
***
Floyd looked at Thomas for a few seconds, then asked:
"That's a strange name — where are you from?"
"Kuf! Kuuf! Bluu–urt!" Thomas tried to vomit but failed.
Electric shocks pulsed all over Thomas's head, clouding his mind. Ever since he tried to answer the question about his name, he hadn't been fully present. As if something was blocking his ability to think clearly, and every time he tried to go further in his thoughts, something was stopping him.
'Fuck…'
It was at that moment that his body reacted to the severity of the damage he had taken during the fight. They were only superficial wounds, but with a body so poorly maintained — it was terrible. Slowly, his vision doubled, and the sounds around him became incomprehensible.
"Zelvirah?"
"…"
'What's happening to me, dammit! I'm sure I was going to give another name before Zelvirah.'
As if, for a brief instant, he wasn't himself anymore. A feeling he wanted to forget at all costs.
"Ahh."
'Should I sleep a little? Yeah, resting would be great...'
"Zelvirah?"
So he sat down against the rock and closed his eyes, trying to calm the ongoing crisis with a short nap.
"Zelvirah?"
"…"
"Zelvirah!"
"…"
"Hey! Listen to me!"
"Ah! Uh… Ah — sorry, what's happening?" Thomas replied, startled.
He still felt discomfort, but with some effort, he managed to respond.
"Are you okay?"
"I—I'm not sure…"
"You just killed someone… It's normal to feel bad… Breathe, it'll pass."
"I—yeah, you're probably right..." he said, not wanting to complicate things.
"So where are yo—"
"Shh!" said Thomas, placing a finger on his lips.
In the distance, two men were walking toward the suspension bridge. It was the guard and the other prisoner he had seen earlier after washing.
"You know, usually… humans can't hear a spirit…"
"…"
Thomas stared at Floyd with burning eyes before letting it go.
'Me, I can be heard… Idiot.'
Noticing something on the ground, the prisoner seemed unwilling to move forward. The guard grew angry.
"What are they saying?" Thomas whispered.
"Blood…"
"Huh?"
"They've spotted the blood that dripped to the ground…"
Thomas clenched his teeth, then swallowed. His heartbeat accelerated.
ba–thump! ba–thump!
The guard was silent in front of a blood puddle. The agitated prisoner looked all around, stomping his feet.
Thomas watched silently as the guard crouched down, touching the blood with two fingers.
"Zelvirah."
"...hm?"
"You need to leave."
"I'm not stupid."
"…"
"Yes, you are."
Thomas clicked his tongue.
Suddenly, seeing the guard distracted by the blood, the prisoner tried to flee deeper into the cave.
'This is my chance!'
*
The guard, distracted by the fresh blood on the ground, was caught off guard when the prisoner under his watch fled. A few seconds behind, he ran after the prisoner as fast as he could.
"Get back here, heretic!" he shouted.
The prisoner ran aimlessly through the cave, taking a steeper path. The guard didn't even notice Thomas returning toward the complex.
'That little bastard!'
"Don't make me use the Ætherin, you little scumbag!"
Even though the prisoner was surprisingly fast, the guard caught up quickly. The difference in physical condition was unforgiving. One ate and slept properly; the other had no such luxury.
With one hand, the guard grabbed the heretic's collar and used his right leg to pin him to the ground.
thud!
"Ah—argh!"
A faint white glow emanated from his arm, keeping the prisoner in place — the Ætherin. An energy every living being in Eldrad could produce and store. Anyone could use it, though few had real talent. The guard wasn't among the talented. But what did it matter? Ilgraa... He had Ilgraa in his life, and that was enough.
"Heretic, you've been chosen for Ilgraa's ritual. This kind of behavior won't be tolerated anymore. That's your final warning."
The prisoner tried to break free, growing more and more agitated.
"Hey! Stay calm or you won't have the honor of feeding Ilgraa."
"I don't give a fuck about your Ilgraa! Go to hell!"
The prisoner tried to kick the guard. That was it. He no longer deserved Ilgraa's grace. He was damned.
The guard thought back to the blood he had seen on the ground earlier.
'A similar situation, probably…'
drip! drip!
Without warning, the cave was painted red, leaving the prisoner to die in profound silence.
***
"Huff! Huff!"
Thomas was out of breath. He had left the cavernous area as fast as possible, and his body was still aching. He was now in a simple corridor inside the complex, one of many similar ones. A familiar carving was on the wall to his right.
Leaning on the wall to keep his balance, he glanced at the strange red orb. Thomas seriously wondered what the hell that thing was… It didn't look like a living being, yet it was. The floating thing even had a name, damn it. And it was supposed to be a 'spirit' — the worst part, according to it, he himself was a spirit!
'Bullshit… I refuse!'
"Ah."
Thomas sighed and put aside his judgment.
"Let's talk now… You say you're a spirit. And that I am too."
"…"
The orb looked at Thomas without saying a word. At least that's what one might think — there was no way to know if it was looking at something else… And how did it even see, anyway?
"What exactly is a spirit?"
"A spirit?"
"Yeah."
"You really don't know anything? Culture's not your strong suit… huh?" said Floyd, amused.
"Hey! Since when is ignorance a crime?" exclaimed Thomas.
Floyd chuckled.
"I'll give you the basics. A spirit is a being with neither soul nor body. They're nothing but a thought left in the world by a past entity. A mere fragment left behind after death."
"Huh? But what does that have to do with me? I'm not dead! Am I?"
"That's what I wonder too… But the evidence is there. Strange. You really are strange, Zelvirah…"
"But if you're just thoughts… What makes you stay? What's your goal?"
"It's ironic. We are beings born from emotion, yet we survive by consuming Ūmbrin. Strange, right? Emotion kills emotion. Our purpose is simple. To wait for the thing that compels us to remain in this world to finally happen. That's the only way to ease our pain. Our only will."
Thomas blinked.
"Ūmbrin?"
Yes, Ūmbrin. We subsist thanks to it.
"No, I got that… What I mean is, why do you use such complicated words! Argh! Make it simpler, I don't know what your umbam-stuff is."
Thomas didn't have the time or energy to understand technical terms. But he had grasped the basic idea.
"…"
"You don't know about Ūmbrin? That's just not possible. Everyone knows that!"
"…"
'He's starting to piss me off.'
"Alright, follow me. I can't stay still forever… and let's change the subject." he said with a forced smile.
The two of them began exploring the place. Thomas was looking for the location of the cells. He learned several things along the way. First, this place was a clandestine facility belonging to the Ilgraa sect — an extremist offshoot of the Ilgraa cult. Anyway, Thomas hadn't planned to become religious. All this was beyond him. He also learned that the world was apparently called Eldrad, named after a past event. The complex was apparently hidden in a kingdom called Fenya — one of the few known places not ruled by a church, but by a royal family.
'A monarchy, then…'
"Someone's coming our way," warned Floyd.
Thomas hurried into the nearest room, not wanting contact with anyone for now. Closing the door behind him, his eyes scanned the space. A storage room filled with all kinds of stuff: crates, tools of all kinds, and even equipment like armor and swords.
"Ah, I think I know where we are," said Floyd.
"…"
"I think these are the belongings of people like you, Zelvirah. The prisoners' gear before their capture."
Thomas searched the clutter. There were all kinds of strange objects, like a blown-glass device shaped like an oval, connected to a metal tube, itself linked to a crystalline orb. However, what interested Thomas most was the equipment. The sword he carried now was okay, but far too heavy for him… And he had no protective gear at all… Finding a few discreet pieces he could hide under his poncho would be perfect.
"Don't look at those ones, Zelvi, they're poor quality. These are better. They all have an integrated Æthrite system that artificially extends the Æthvein into the gear."
Thomas had a headache — too many terms to learn… From what he had understood, people used a kind of energy called Ætherin. The whole world of Eldrad revolved around it. It was their survival, their technology, and their means of defense. In short, unavoidable.
Looking through the gear, he found some armor pieces that could be easily hidden: a thin chest plate, shoulder pads, and forearm guards. Satisfied, he looked at the weapons.
There were all types of weapons: staffs, axes, swords, hammers, etc. His only criteria were weight and handling. He wanted something light and unburdensome. A hammer would be great for delivering heavy blunt damage, but it was too heavy and impractical for an infiltration situation like his.
In the end, he had three options that met the criteria of mobility and lightness: a kind of matte black staff, sublime in its simplicity, a rapier, and a set of daggers.
"That's… ah, th—that staff."
Thomas turned toward Floyd, who seemed agitated.
"...Hmm?"
"It's a shikomizue. That was my weapon… A hidden blade."
Thomas widened his eyes.
He might have just found his weapon.