DURING THE EON OF RAGE
“What do you dream of?” she asked, almost at the sound of a whisper.
“I don’t.”
“That can’t be true! Everybody dreams! Maybe you just don’t remember yours.”
“I remember everything except which cannot be remembered, because they didn’t happen.”
And as if on cue, she stomped her feet on the ground in frustration. A most peculiar yet consistent reaction.
“You’re always like that.”
I nodded.
“The ocean.”
I craned my head over my shoulders, “Hm?”
“That’s what I dream of. I dream of an ocean that’s like the sky, and I swim in it along with all the fishes, and sometimes, other people too. We’re like flying but also swimming. Everybody has wings in the shape of gils, and their eyes coloured like gems imbued with the energy of their souls. And then the sun is this big orange whale that jumps out of the water every sunrise, and stays in the sky until sunset.”
“A whale?” I shook my head and laughed. The thought was endearing, yet familiar like the taste of candy.
And the shelling outside continued, our temporary respite of peace shattered.
“When will it end?” she asked, a hint of fear in her voice.
“In a moment. They said first, the fire will rain and then the demons will fall from the sky.”
And so we waited, in the small dank room where we found refuge. This was far from the beginning of our journey and it is my duty to ensure it is not the end.
After a while, the shelling stopped. Gathering myself and swiping away the dust that had recoiled itself onto my clothes, I stood up.
“It’s time to go.”
I opened the door, the light peering through was shaded with a crimson red. Blackened to the point that it almost looked like rotten blood. And as we stepped outside, I had realised why.
“A velvet sky!” she gasped.
“Indeed.”
What was once a bustling city was now flattened by continuous shelling and bombardment from the demons of the north. Buildings that stood seven stories high now crumbling from the base. Bakeries turned into strategic positions for mounted artilleries. Kindergartens turned into bunkers. This senseless rage, where does it lead but self-destruction?
“Look!” she pointed upwards. Little dots started to appear from the blood-soaked sky, little dots that were carried by thin mushroom clouds. They came in hundreds of dots, and then thousands. They were legion. They were demons.
“It’s best not to idle here too long.”
We continued on the city walls, making our way to the Pearl gate. It was our best chance of getting out of the city before it inevitably falls and burns like all those before it.
Below us, there was fighting going around in the city. The Knights of Azure were fighting the demons valiantly. Their silver vests seeming like the only source of light in a city being drained of its luster. And they fought true, with a style of the Shining Fox. Two daggers, and feet as nimble as a dancer’s. But no matter their cunning and mastery of rhythm, the brute force of the demons with their long metal rods attached with spikes would strike down many Azurian Knights.
“They’re getting slaughtered down there!” she tugged at my shoulder. Her eyes were watery, a look that betrayed the fierceness others would assume when they met her. But to assume such a thing on a precious creature is only a reflection of those that do. For Constance, was a dreamer. An A09 like I am, but gifted by our creators by a skill that extended beyond mine with the blade. She was gifted the ability to dream, and therefore given the ability to create.
I knew only to destroy, and now to protect.
“I don’t see how that’s our problem.”
Frustrated stomping of feet, again. “Don’t you have a heart? Shouldn’t we help them?”
“And die? What use would a heart be to the dead?”
And so, silence. We continued on walking along the city walls as the sounds of fighting, bombing, screams echoed around us.
That is until, two mushrooms started to drift towards us. The demons holding onto them were slender, and wrapped themselves in a black-inked leather bandolier. Their black caps nestled between their red hair. Their features blending with each other like twins do.
“Stay back, Constance.”
I felt through the sheath of my blade attached to my hip, and then I readied it.
The two demons fell gracefully in front of us. Their toes making contact with the gravel ground, and their bodies absorbing the pressure evenly as they sprouted upwards like a flower in spring. And then they looked at us with their piercing pink eyes. Seeing them this close, there was no doubt that they were twins.
“What an interesting sight. To see two lost lambs in the middle of the sheep slaughter. Two A09s.” One of the demons said, her voice sounding like elongated string plucks. As if there was a thirst in it, a need in it.
“Oh but sister, it seems they are not so alike like we are.” The other demon said. Her voice leaning towards a more grand vintage, but not reaching it. An imposter. Vermin.
“Yes. It seems one knows how to dance, and the other-” the demon motions towards Constance "-not so much.”
I drew my sword. “Back away, demon.”
And as if to mock us, the porcelain face of the demon contorted into a gasp. One you would make if somebody were to die during a stage-play, a make believe face. “How ironic that you would call us demons when your creator gave you horns.”
The other demon giggled, her thin lips carousing into a wide smile. “Jest not sister, this one does not understand the way of rage. How does one that is not alive understand passion?”
And almost immediately, I felt a fluttering of steps. I extended my right arm, blocking Constance. “You take lives, desecrate the sky, and burn holes into the ground from where once cities lay. Where children played! Where music was made! Where life…”
Constance fell to one knee, her lips trembled. “We are alive because we honor life. You’re just hollow cups filled to the brim with the flow of evil.”
I looked at the demons, both had the signature long spiked metal rods attached to their backs. I bent my knees slightly, planting my left foot forward. I then lifted my left arm and lightly placed my blade on it for support. This is the stance of the Rushing Tide. “The time for talk is done.”
The two demons looked at each other, smiled. And then nodded.
In synchronised movement, they both pulled out their metal rods. Wielding them like a spear. Usually in an open battlefield, they can come at me from multiple sides. Swarm me until I have completely submitted. But on top of this city wall, only one can swing wide at me at a time.
And I know this.
One of them rushed at me, screeching a terrible sound that finally revealed the monster behind the porcelain face.
Any battle is like an ocean, and I swim. Those who rush, drown.
Right foot forward. I parried a blow coming from my left, my blade sliding at the metal rod distributing its force and pushing it off.
I pulled back my sword over my left shoulder, and in one motion stepped with my left foot and sliced through my attacker.
The demon fell in front of me. Swimming in blood.
Her twin was frozen in shock, tears had flown down her face like a rushing stream. And in her eyes, I saw it. True rage. A sad rage. And in that moment, she felt human.
She rushed at me, flailing her metal rod. Lacking in any technique. Trying to find meaning in a meaningless situation.
It was almost too easy.
I stepped back and she overextended herself, almost tripping. I kicked her and she lost all balance, falling from the city wall. The sounds of her terrible screaming fading away the further she fell. And when I looked over the wall to check for her body, there was nothing there. Nothing but the continuing fighting below.
A problem for another day, perhaps. Just not this one.
I walked over to Constance who was still sullen at the gravel floor, “Stand up. The Pearl Gate is not far from here.”
With a shrug, she stood up. There’s more fight in her than she gives herself credit for. And if it’s to the abyss where we are going, she’s going to need it.
We will all need it.
NEXT VOLUME
STARRING
