Novels2Search

26. Faded Memories

I stood in my puddle for an interminable amount of time. At one point, the sun got tired of my idleness and slipped away. I don't recall the moon joining my vigil. It skipped, or the sun realized it had nothing better to do and returned shortly after leaving.

My head was in a fog, my heart hurt, though I didn't know why, and I longed for home—a feeling I couldn't remember having since I left.

Home was a silly place of kind and cruel memories. There were times of happiness with my parents as we foraged and hunted in the forest. Times of pain when the news of my sister's death got back to us, and my parents rebelled against the ruling family. We became outcasts and were ostracized from the community. My parents had no resources when I was old enough to begin cultivation. They sold their lives just to get by.

I wasn't allowed to attend youth academies or participate in training sessions. Most kids avoided interacting because they feared the shame of cowards rubbing off.

My parents weren't cowards; they saw a flaw in the system and suffered for exposing it. I broke their hearts when I joined the Alderi regulars. All youth of Kukoa were expected to serve. As an outcast, there was no expectation for me; I was free from the chains. My parent's lack of freedom led me to the registration. I almost wasn't accepted, which would have been our island's first and bright shame. The only friend I had used his dad's influence to get me through.

All my money was sent back to my parents until the day. Every credit and core saved was building us a better future. I didn't know how they died. All I knew was the world grew empty without them. I drifted at sea with no purpose and no shore to call home.

By the time my service with the empire came to an end, the death of my parents became a faded memory. Signing up for the marines was an easy choice. I had nowhere else to go or any plans on what to do. I lacked the skills to make it as a crafter and wasn't bold enough to be an adventurer. The only thing I was sure of, I wasn't going back to Kukoa.

Sure, the Kukoa had its beauties. Crystal-clear turquoise water surrounded the island, with soft-white sandy beaches stretching along the coastline. The few moments when I wasn't struggling to survive or gain an edge in cultivation, I spent rolling in the waves and diving into the calming depths. The ocean never cared that my family were outcasts.

Even the central mountain range, where I spent most of my time, had a majestic allure. A dense tropical rainforest dressed the mountains, covering the hills in giant ferns and ancient trees that bloomed bright flowers. Cascading down the mountains were countless waterfalls. The rivers sparkled with an ethereal glow, emanating tranquility.

Life flourished in the mountain rainforests. When my parents or I were desperate enough to sneak the royal families' 'claimed' wealth, we got to experience a life of sweet fruit, rich meats, and hearty roots. The feasts never lasted long enough, and the consequences of illegal hunting were always dire. It didn't take much to see past the beautiful mask of Kukoa and uncover the rot of greed and power festering underneath. I could no longer look upon the island's beauty without seeing the facade.

So maybe it wasn't home I longed for but family. What I wouldn't give to have one last meal with them—to hear the wild stories of my parents' youth and listen to my sister's dreams for her future. Laughter would fill our hut as we filled our bellies with roasted pork and sweet drink.

I wiped my eyes and cleared my throat. The hollow man inside beckoned me to accept him; another begged me to surrender to the grief. One clung to hope, while another remained paralyzed with indecision.

This was an odd loop, and I didn't know why past memories haunted me so much. Heaviness clung to my thoughts; it slowed my breathing and stilted my desire. It would be helpful if I could recall anything out of the ordinary from the last loop. I remember fighting the last of the wolfbears and dying right at the end. My gut churned. Something was off.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

A light mist fell from the sky. I couldn't recall if the storm was early or late. It couldn't even be called a storm.

"Tents?"

Drops splashed on my shoulders, creating a tiny pool before trickling down my arm.

"Cal, you there?" By the pale moon. I probably shouldn't be alone right now.

A breeze stirred up the little dust not damp enough to be left alone. The breeze pushed against me; it was so faint that I shouldn't have been moved.

"Hey, I could use some help about now," I said louder against the wind. "Even a put-down would be nice…"

The flayen had been absent lately since a loop or two ago. Usually, I could sense Squid's presence in the back of my mind like a persisting thought that hadn't come to fruition. At the moment, the flayen had no presence. For the first time in my years of loneliness, I felt alone. Truly alone.

I blamed this strange loop on the low starting point… and Lana. She wasn't innocent.

Before she arrived, I had never suffered from this feeling. Lana unintentionally showed me my emptiness, and chasms in my soul became nothing more than cracks in time. A large part of my fulfillment had been ripped away with her demise. I could settle into my shop and sell the worst maps ever created. It would be so easy. The hurt I felt now would fade with time, bandaged by gaping numbness.

Realistically speaking, I had no chance of bringing Lana or anyone back. Squids mentioned that with enough power, I might be able to, but that made little sense. What was I going to do? Move back time? Not even the fabled gods, with all their holy power, could do that. For all I knew, Squids could be blowing hot smoke.

Yet, here I was, looking at my frozen body. Hope dangled before me.

My dreams and reality were at odds. In my heart, I knew there was no possibility I could save us all—that I could save them, yet I held on to the sliver of hope. I defied reality by putting everything into delirious hope. After all, if there was any chance at all, why not take it? Hope drove me toward her.

Hope wouldn't allow me to let her go, and as long as I held on, I couldn't be whole. My cracks would continue to spread. However, if I let go, I'd be swallowed by my depths—lost again in a sea with no shore in sight.

Hope was a blessing and a curse. I needed all of it because I was not letting go—not this time.

Drifting through the storm of my thoughts, a hollow laughter mocked my weakness. It was soft at first; I could barely hear it. It grew as if encouraged by my shame. The laughter escaped the bounds of my mind, manifesting in a wild pack of riotous howling.

The smell of blood and wet fur broke me from my trance.

It must've been the entire pack of wolfbears that came to feast. I knew their numbers were large; I'd yet to see them all show up like this. Usually, they attacked in waves. This was a full-scale assault. Despite the odds, I felt calm. The cruelty of the fates led the wolfbears to me at this hour and in this state. It was not fair, and for that, I felt sorry.

A chorus made the rounds through the taverns on the Agoria continent about my people's tendency to get lost in the fog of battle. Be wary of brutes. Paths of hollowness paved, graves covered in gray. Of course, the words sounded much better coming from a bard. However, it lost its potency on tender lips.

I summoned two claymores and raised them to the ready. The once heavy blades were light in my hand, no longer feeling awkward. I struck the air, working through the first three forms of the sword kata to get used to the new feeling, and returned them to the guard position. The wolfbears were nearly upon me; the stench of their fur fueled the fire that burned within.

A guttural instinct urged me to temper the flame. I focused all my will on my core and commanded it to freeze. My soul turned to ice, spreading from my inner layers into my channels. As the frost spread, ice covered me in thick, light-blue armor.

I had cast ice armor but had no time to celebrate. The first victim of an unfair fate bit at my feet. I spilled its blood as death's gray mana covered its shallow grave.