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A Martial Odyssey
Act 2, 55 - A Friend

Act 2, 55 - A Friend

  The singular maiden servant of the Cardinal Four, Seri, reached out to open a window back to the normal world. Her usual elegant hair was now disheveled, in such a way like a tornado had crossed her path; or a giant’s celebratory claps reached her from far afield. She couldn’t ever to begin to understand how Grisla manages, often, to stumble upon something he shouldn’t and face a turn of events immediately afterward. It’s a sickness that, to her best knowledge, an average soul would spend ten lifetimes’ worth of unluck to get this.

A magnet of misfortune, she thought under gritted teeth. Back when she touched the book, it downright rejected her. Violently, to add. Because its owner has been selected, and whatever binding process was in place was made not to be interrupted, whomever or whatever authored and created it put that safeguard in place. Seri shivered when she woke up. She died. A normally true death if… she wasn’t a construct. The energy wrapped up inside the reaction was enough to obliterate her and Grisla together if they both were victims.

As she leaned forward to look at the world from the medallion’s perspective, the thing was blown so far away it landed in the next hallway, nearly halfway sunken in its darkness. Squinting her eyes, enhancing her vision with the borrowed Juva from the divinities clarified the image a little more. Back in the chamber, Grisla’s body was as limp as the deceased Ji Nan. She couldn’t tell if he was alive. And that worried her.

  Seri frowned a tinge. If he’s dead, she’ll have to back to wasting another century finding someone qualified. Though, she doubts she’ll ever find someone as abysmal as Grisla. She stared up at Limbo’s galactic sky. Throat stretching, “Master–Master White! I humbly request your aid! Please—”

  “I’m already here”—White Tiger said as he landed, more as a growl than anything else— “what’s going on!”

  “I sensed your projection be destroyed. Who did this?! Was it Grisla?” His fangs were larger than the greatest portcullis man could conceive of, and they revealed themselves with not the primal instinct for hunger, or desire. The hate was almost palpable and reflected off the whites of his teeth.

  “M–Master… it was not Grisla, but—”

He howled in her face, startling her to the bone. It was at this moment Seri realized, though they are creatures of high rationality, and lord above with limitless power at their fingertips—claws or wings more appropriately, deep, deeper than any sword or spear could pierce, within their hearts, they were still beasts. And she’s never witnessed Master White losing his sense of calm, or even entertained the idea of such a thing being possible. Made worse when the beast took her hesitation for a confession. His silted eyes cut to the display.

She was made more lost than ever. What was going on with Grisla, and now what’s going on with her master? The Cardinal Four were all distinct with their own personalities, yet what they all held in common was the haughty aloofness befitting their station. Not many intelligent beasts have much to say to humans, and even less for cordial interaction. She’s lived under the understanding that she may be “disposed of” at a whim, and now, Master White’s lost his reason at her supposed death? Was it a wound of pride that someone dared to punish her before them?

She didn’t understand. But what takes priority, is…

The White Tiger of the West swiped through empty space, and suddenly it caught onto something. As if his paw had hit a hidden wall, then he flexed his grip, and pulled. Instead of watching the world through the ant-hole Seri used as her window, the White Tiger was clawing out space making a doorway large enough for himself to fall through. Seri’s eyes widened; he was making his way over to kill Grisla.

  “Listen to me, Master! It’s not—”

  “I’ve listened enough,” after clawing out something akin to a portal large enough for an army to charge through, White Tiger’s two paws seized the edges of the spatial tear to stretch it out even further, accompanied by his great howl, “I tried to understand the boy, but to go so far as hurting you? Unforgivable.”

  White Tiger screamed with the force to shatter volcanoes and split the sea as he finished a final rip for his size. “We’ve already lost you once,” he said, “Never again. We owe him that much.”

Seri blinked. What?

The situation has gone from bad, to worse. From what she remembers, never has any of them stepped a foot into the human world since… well… she doesn’t know. She knows, though, that there’s a good reason for why people are named as their representative: Sage, so they don’t have to traverse in their realm to get things done. If someone else caused her ‘death’ then the task would normally fall to Grisla to mete out punishment. But still…

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  Grisla mustn’t die.

Seri ran for the portal, where the White Tiger was starting to reach his first paw in, aiming to kill Grisla from afar. She activated Steps of the Alpha: Godspeed in her rush, still, in the breath it takes her to somehow impede his path, it’s more than enough to slay the boy and come back. “You don’t understand, Master!”

His finger was dipped inside, albeit just the tip, but the tiger’s body was large enough it could reach. From the portal, she saw Grisla’s unconscious body with the reaper overhead. And couldn’t help but scream. What could she do but watch?

  Suddenly—the White Tiger stopped, snarled, and snapped his teeth at a silhouette. “Who asked for you to interfere?”

When Seri made it in front of the portal, her breath of relief was under the great shadow of the divine tiger, who was staring at the welcome newcomer. She’s never been so excited to see one of them before, but she was troubled at what’s to come next.

  The Black Tortoise of the North halted White Tiger’s reach with a bite of his jaw. Back in the mortal realm, his dastardly nail hung over Grisla’s body, looking like the reaper’s scythe was a blatant rip-off from him. White Tiger’s aura raised. Making Seri’s projected form flicker and fade under its oppression.

  “Control yourself,” the Tortoise said.

  White Tiger snorted. “I’d say the same of you. Release me, or do you dare to challenge me, turtle?”

  “You’re scaring the girl,” his eyes twitched down, “have an ounce of self-awareness.”

  Amused enough to laugh during his rage, he said: “I am aware. Aware that this child has crossed my bottom line. I’ve had nothing much against him, until today. Until he hurt our Seri.”

Our Seri? She never heard that one before. Certainly not in that tone, it only served to add more confusion where there shouldn’t be, not at this time above all things. She looked up, like a mortal pleading to the Gods in prayer, and said: “Please, Master White. It’s not his fault.”

  “How is it not? Who else caused it to happen? I have judged him to be a danger, and for your protection I’ll—”

  “When did I ever ask for that?”

  “None of you,” she scowled, “and I mean none of you, know who Grisla actually is. He’s been out here fighting for his life, every day he wakes. Not to prove himself worthy of your attention, requirements or what have you. He’s doing it for himself and his own dream! Everything you’ve offered him is just that—a means to an end, whilst you all sit up in your lofty thrones and let him suffer alone… alone… much like…”

  “Me.”

They froze. Seri shivered. It was the first time she’d ever spoken against her masters. A strong rebuke, even. Grisla won’t have a tomorrow to see and neither will she, from her guess.“I am honored Master,” she bowed to White Tiger, “that you value your servants so highly. But Grisla is my student, and by extension one of your retainers. To endanger his life but value my own is nothing but favoritism.”

  “A thousand Grisla’s can perish if it means you are safe. I act not for our Herald, but for you, as Seri.”

  “Why?”

White Tiger let whatever he was going to say, keel up and die in his throat. As she looked to Black Tortoise for anything, he too had the same reaction, but also looked away. She realized it then, that not only was a secret held by the tiger, additionally, the tortoise was in on it too, and certainly means the whole group as well.

  “Because we owe someone a great debt,” A voice said from above. Its serpentine body coiled around the group, making it look like a scaly tsunami descended upon them.

  She threw her head up. “How can that be? Does that mean, then, my memories are incomplete?”

The Cardinals’ of the North and West glared at the Azure Dragon, who promptly ignored them as if it never saw. “Yes,” it admitted. Seri always appreciated the Azure Dragon’s bluntness, even if it’s to the detriment of others.

She felt a wound somewhere open. Painless, instead it waved a flag at her that she always knew was there, it was just, that she’d always ignored it. Never being able to see it as her mind couldn’t pay attention, much like how a human cannot see above their chosen wavelength.

   Azure Dragon sighed. “There are many things you do not know. And I’m sure that—”

  “That you’ve said enough, Cardinal.” The arrival of the final newcomer was more dramatic than the last. The once beautiful painting above became a disfigured husk of itself, fire more brilliant than the brightest sunrise dyed the sky a violent red, and different hues of crimson. At the epicenter at the apocalypse on the ceiling, the embodiment of flame screeched from its perch, soaring down with ruinous boulders spitting from the crack.

  Black Tortoise snorted; a green dome to weather the storm shielded himself and Seri. The one-off boulder that managed to collide with his shield didn’t create a single dent in his defense. Despite the energy packed within being more than enough to decimate a mere Grittus clan. After it faded, the prickly Tortoise glared at the Vermillion Bird. “Who invited you?” Too late, for the bird’s attention was already on Seri.

  “I also share some of White Tiger’s worry,” the Vermillion Bird flapped its wings, beating a wave of intense heat strong enough to scald skin in their vicinity, “there’s no mistake that this has been fault of your increasing attention on personally being there to instruct him.”

  “Not hers, mine,” White Tiger said.

  “You’re all being ridiculous. Our Herald wasn’t hurt, she’s just shaken. She’s not a child.”

  “That’s not the point. If an incident occurs like this again, then clearly our candidate is not taking his duties seriously of protecting—”

  “Protecting? Who? Me? When?” Seri sneered. “Master White. You will not touch Grisla. He’s someone I’ve been waiting on, for a long time, and you will not take that away from me.”

  The four exchanged glances. “Oh, and what’s that?”

  “A friend.”

  White Tiger chuckled. “You’ve barely known him a year. Here, we’ve been acquainted for centuries.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Because,” Seri said, staring at the assemblage, “Grisla Orlith has never lied to me.”