In the middle of a parkland somewhere between two cities, there’s a man in robes with kobold armor mantled on, casually standing next to a tree, gazing out at the memorial. A gentle breeze runs along his face, the scar across his left eye, the breeze something that could be considered a gift of serene peace.
The man’s sharp, green eyes flitted between the clear azure sky, the sun high in it, and the flowers and wreaths that decorated the tombstones that were lined in an even row. He had been here many times before now, but each time could only feel somber.
In particular, he stood above the Heca tombstone. To many, it was to commiserate the exile. To Joran, it was Joseph’s memorial. Of Liam. Of the innocents that ended up being swept away in incrimination by association. No matter how many times he came, tears silently streaked down his face, complex emotions bottled deep inside him, only let out in these quiet visits.
The ongoing process of exiling the Bloodhound Clan continued for a couple of months. Although many people were decisive in their support, there were some that faltered in their conviction, unsure if sending them to the Beyond was the right choice. But Ruben having decided it for his own clan, there was little anyone could say otherwise. The Soma Lum went on to reach every citizen of the Metropolis, the news of it brandishing the Joker as even more of a legend than before.
Cael was eventually reinstated, Ardenta making plans to create a junction in the Metropolis, rather than just the oasis that was out in the Wasteland. As Joran came to discover, their Art’s techniques and knowledge stored in books were taken from them and stored within the Distilled Mind Family’s archives. But with their reinstatement, Idaten ordered for their Arts to be returned, as they relearned their Myriad Altering Arts, and actualizing the dream that Joran had held as his own for Cael. Slowly, they were able to come forth as a police force, not quite on par with Heca, but one day they might reach that zenith.
Additionally, Joran asked Reigan to renovate Draco’s memorial to offer remembrance for those that fell in Inven, in Sentinalus, and in the underground where clearing them out was still ongoing. It was wholly accepted not just by Reigan, but by all the Major Families, and all the people of the Metropolis, crediting the memorial to the Joker that had swept change through the Cities…
Behind him, Joran could hear a tenor, gravel voice that was now all too familiar to him, “I’m not going to lie, I still can’t believe you did it.”
Joran turned, seeing the tanned man who wore a dry smile, and bowed gently before he spoke amicably to him as he got closer, “Please Jack. You already know I didn’t do all of it.”
“At the very least, it would have taken a lot longer to avenge Hallson without you,” Jack’s eyes trained on the markers as he mused to himself.
“Even then,” Joran briefly wiped his eyes, as he took a deep breath, “A lot of it couldn’t have been done if Ruben wasn’t who he was.”
Jack pat Joran on the back, “Fine. Going back in already?”
He gestured to the armor Joran was wearing, and Joran smugly tapped the long sheath that was on his back, holding the claymore which he had now grown to call Rulm, “Sure am. We think there’s only a few left now, and we didn’t really need to rest after our last expedition.”
“After that, the Invasion can be considered completely over, then?”
Joran shook his head, chuckling, “No. I’m pretty sure we’ll have our hands in this mess for a long time. But at the very least, we can start working on rebuilding Sentinalus. Rebuilding the Cities for good.”
“Well. I won’t keep you from your business, Joker.”
Joran turned away, making his way towards the sewer entrance on Evergreen’s side, before pausing and turning around, looking back at Jack, “… I’m sorry.”
Jack held his hand out, not even looking at Joran, “If you’re really sorry, just make sure you find them all.”
Joran looked down, clamping his hand before walking away silently, leaving Jack to mourn for his daughter by himself.
Reaching the entrance that Joran had gone down a month ago, he nodded towards the Cael soldiers that guarded it. Although they were without weapons, Joran knew better than to assume they were defenseless. He opened the hatch, going down the ladder with practiced quickness, hitting the bottom within moments. His feet on the boardwalk, listening to the running water, he looked around scanning to see no one around him before he hollered out into the now well-lit sewers.
“I thought you were waiting for me!”
His voice echoed through, until it faded away. Then he could hear Drekor faintly cackling.
“We were impatient! Go left and go down that way, you should meet up with us soon.”
Joran groaned as he started jogging his way as directed. Although they were fairly certain of Beasts being in the sewers, they had been at this for about two weeks now, slowly but surely realizing that the portals were all but deactivated, leaving the remaining Beasts stranded. Most people would have left them be, but the Assembly pointed out that leaving Beasts underneath the Cities could lead to them making their way up, and disrupt any of the cities of their peace. With that pointed out, Joran joined the military junction in their last official duty together. With Gouriki, Idaten, Suekamikou, and now Cael.
After what seemed like an hour, Joran finally heard struggles up ahead, simply lamenting his own lateness as he closed the rest of the distance to see a naginata impale a few goblins, while a kobold was skewered by claws on a large orange cat. The group was in varying types of armor, mostly kobold, while one familiar Suekamikou soldier, Saffora, had metal plates on her. Drekor’s Dao was gracefully sheathed after severing a goblin, and he turned to see Joran running up, now smugly puffing his chest out.
“Took you long enough, Joran!”
“… How many have you guys run into?” Joran sighed to himself in defeat, already seeing over a dozen of Beasts in proximity.
The orange cat transformed back into a human, a lean girl with red hair who held out three fingers, “Three rooms!”
Joran coughed to himself in disbelief, “Three?! How did you guys find three already?!”
One of the Gouriki soldiers, a burly man who was whetting his blade against the rocks of the boardwalk spoke curtly, “Alice figured out how to be a tiger. Rest is pretty simple.”
Joran frowned as he looked back at the girl, Alice, “Is that what the orange cat was?”
Alice nodded proudly as Drekor patted Joran on the back, “Seems like the Myriad Altering Arts are quite handy, eh?”
Joran jabbed his friend in the gut rather hard before bonking him on the head as well, “Are you saying I don’t use the Sovereign Realm Arts well enough?”
Drekor groaned from the jab, squeaking out his rebuttal, “Not as good as you like to think you do,” before dropping onto his knees, groaning in pain.
Alice pointed farther into the tunnel, “There’s a few more down this way for sure. Since you’re here we could keep going.”
Joran playfully poked Drekor’s head, “I don’t know, he seems pretty tired.”
Drekor groaned out, “That’s because of you dumbass!”
Joran was about to deny it when the same burly Gouriki spoke up again, “Let’s go, the sooner this is done, the better.”
Joran nodded, as he looked over to where Alice pointed, “You’re right Anders. Are you ready to go Saffora?”
Saffora refastened her tower shield on her wrist as she spoke frankly, “You’re the ones that are slowing down.”
Joran ignored the blunt chide and gestured to Alice, “Well, if you don’t mind, then.”
Alice nodded before transforming into a tiger in the middle of a jump. She began striding down the boardwalk, gnashing her teeth. Joran still couldn’t get used to watching any Cael almost fluidly shapeshift, their bodies gracefully changing forms as if it was natural.
It is natural for them, I suppose, Joran mused to himself as they began to tail behind Alice who was sniffing along.
They made their way along for a few minutes in silence, before Saffora perked up, a warmer voice now than before, “So what were you doing, Joran?”
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Drekor interjected before Joran could respond, “No doubt he was at the Memorial.”
Saffora frowned, “You’re still visiting the tombstones? No one’s actually buried there, though.”
Joran closed his eyes as he shook his head, “They still have meaning.”
“Whatever helps, I guess.”
Joran stayed silent as Anders slowed down in front of the trio, looking back at them as he whispered, “She’s on a trail, we’re close.”
Joran was taken aback, “Damn, was it this fast for the other rooms?”
Drekor huffed a little bit from the run, and waved his friend off, “The others were pretty close together. We haven’t gone down this tunnel before. I’m surprised we had to go this far for the next one, to be honest.”
“Shush,” Saffora commanded, and the group made their way slowly around the corner that Alice was waiting at.
In view now was a group of goblins, about a dozen. A number that would have scared Joran senseless before, now was a smaller group than usual.
As they crept closer, they could see the room that was dug through the wall, in the same seamless fashion as the tunnels Joran and Drekor first found when they had come down to the sewers to find the Basilisk. Having found the room, the group lunged together, wreaking havoc on the Beasts, Joran unsheathing his turquoise blade, killing half of the goblins in one slash, his eyes betraying his frenzy.
The group was one of several dozens of squads that were created and dispatched to clear the sewers. Although there were only a handful of kids that were forced into tending to the rooms, it was quickly discovered that the kids had managed multiple different but near identical rooms that proliferated underneath the Cities. The first room they had gone into, they had even come across an Orc, which was quickly dismantled by the leaders of the Major Family that had gone headfirst in to explore. After that, they had sent out a few groups, who were the ones who quickly found out how many rooms there might really have been.
The days went into weeks, each group had at least one member of each family to smoothly handle any encounter. But still they kept finding more and more rooms. Like a labyrinth that sprawled endlessly. The largest concern was how these rooms still were able to facilitate the Beasts they held. That uncertainty all but assuaged any nay-sayers to the mission to clearing out what the people were starting to call the “Labyrinth.”
The group settled down, Joran slicking the last of the blue blood off his blade. Saffora ruptured the runes for the portal and piled the goblin corpses in the room that was down past the steps. No matter how many times they came across a different room that was still near identical, Joran made a habit of looking around for the misplaced difference. This time to no avail.
As he sighed, Drekor scoffed at his friend, “You’re still trying to do that? I thought by now you’d have accepted that they’re all the same.”
Joran furrowed his brows, annoyed at Drekor, “It’s just something I do, leave me alone!”
Drekor laughed while the squad handled the rest of the corpses and tending to their weapons. Anders spoke up as they were tidying the area.
“They’re talking about moving ahead with going back to Sentinalus.”
Drekor perked up with a nod as he looked at his golden blade, “Yep, reports from Kaywood farmers have been suggesting that the Beast activity there is minimal. Yamatsumi is still going through the crossroad in the north though, so there’s debate on whether we should go back to Sentinalus yet or not.”
Joran mused to himself, in spite of having been at the Assembly to hear the same reports, “Good thing at least, right? Would mean bad news if the Borderlands collapsed from starvation.”
“Not to mention our increased demand of metals that Yamatsumi so generously offers in exchange.”
Alice spoke dismissively, “They’ll collapse soon either way.”
Joran frowned, “What do you mean? You mean because of the Invasion?”
Alice explained, her cheerful demeanor now falling flat, “Have you not heard? I realize it’s not being talked about officially, but I thought you’d know about the Horde, right?”
At this, Drekor frowned as well, “My father has been making it a point to send me and Joran down here and holding other Assembly meetings. The Horde as in the dragons?”
Alice nodded, “It’s been all the gossip in the Adpol Garrison. They’re saying the Horde has decided to assault the Borderlands.”
Drekor thought about it and looked over to Joran, who was in deep thought, “Oh, I think I realize now why the Realm Monarch has kept it from us now.”
Joran turned over to Drekor, cocking an eyebrow in rousing suspicion, “What?”
Pointing at Joran, Drekor wiggled his finger, “He knows what you might do.”
“… You’re saying he kept it from us because I want to go there to help?”
Drekor nodded, but Joran scoffed, “That’s ridiculous, right?” But when he turned to the rest of the squad who were staring at him, he stuttered, “R… Right?”
Saffora bluntly asked, “Well do you?”
Joran responded just as bluntly, “Of course, why would I not?”
“Well there you go,” They all said in unison, which caused Joran to fidget in surprise.
“They’re also part of the Hero Realm! We can’t just leave them to their struggles!”
Anders shook his head, as he stood up, “You’re the only one that could maybe go there. And Idaten, but I know they don’t particularly care to do that.”
Drekor sighed exasperatedly as he got up himself, “I mean Aurumn coming over is such a nuisance. I can’t imagine how it’d feel for them to receive any Idaten.”
Joran got up and sheathed Rulm, and sighed to himself, “Would it be that bad of an idea…?”
Alice dusted herself off and spoke her mind nonchalantly before turning back into a tiger, “Don’t forget, they’re far stronger than us. If they can’t handle the Horde, we’ll be like dust in the wind anyways.”
Joran shuddered as she strode away, “How can she say that so coolly, though?”
“Don’t sweat it too much, Joran,” Drekor offered as consolation before the group made their way tailing Alice.
The next few rooms they cleared, Joran stayed quiet, lost in his thoughts and rancor as he slaid goblins and kobolds. He realized that the Metropolis generally accepted that the Borderlands were far stronger. The only two reasons they not only didn’t take over the Metropolis for themselves, but also heed the Realm Monarch; was both the Idaten were simply that strong, despite their smaller numbers, and how little the Realm Monarch asked of them. The trade that the two regions dealt in, and the universal cooperation for the existence of the Central Districts was all that the Realm Monarch sustained through the years. It’s all but become tradition at this point, to say nothing of the mutual benefit that everyone involved reaped.
Joran realized this but couldn’t accept that the Borderlands couldn’t get help from the Metropolis. At the very least, he knew he needed to go. To see the region for himself, as the Joker.
As they cleaned up their fourth room, Saffora in the middle of disrupting the portal, Joran abruptly spoke up, “I’m gonna go to the Borderlands.”
The group didn’t pay him any mind, Drekor chuckling to himself even, “Yeah, we know that, come over here and help with the corpses now that you’re not just lost in your thoughts.”
Joran blushed slightly as he started taking corpses down past the steps as he defended himself, “I’m going to go see how the Borderlands really are. And… Maybe help them if I can.”
Drekor looked at his friend, giving him a look up and down before patting his shoulder, “Fine. I’ll go with you.”
“… You just mentioned how annoying it could be to have an Idaten for them.”
“Imagine how annoying it’ll be for them to accommodate a Joker, then. At least with me there, you’ll know your way around.”
“Have you been there?”
Drekor scoffed, “No, but did you already forget our other best friend who returned there?”
Eliza.
Joran groaned, grabbing his head as he clenched his teeth, “… What is she going to say to me?”
Drekor whistled, “Probably some choice words for you, considering it was quite public knowledge that you bounced the Exam. Granted, they have probably heard about the Joker from Aurumn. Even without your name being mentioned, she might put two and two together.”
Saffora lamented, “Does this mean you guys won’t be here to do any more clearings?”
Drekor waved her off without worry, “Nah, we’ll be back after a few weeks probably. Show off the Joker in Gaia, do some tours in each clan and their towns, go home. Pretty straightforward.”
Joran corrected Drekor, wiggling his finger in front of his face this time, “If I can’t help them as I am.”
“’If you can’t help them as you are’ yes. But don’t forget, you’re the Joker. Who knows if you’ll find something of interest to learn there,” Drekor turned back to Saffora with a coy smile, “At the very least, I’ll leave Joran to his own devices and come back in a few weeks.”
Joran rolled his eyes as they went on to the last room they decided to do for the day.
Sometime later in the night, Joran and Drekor went up to the Throne Hall, where they approached Reigan formally, both casually bowing.
“So what is this I hear of a request to go to the Borderlands?” The Realm Monarch spoke with august, with faint concern laced in his tone.
Joran, now used the formality, cordially spoke, “I wish to see for myself the crisis they are in. As well as the desire to explore and find what the other region has to explore.”
“For him to explore, specifically,” Drekor corrected playfully.
“… For me to explore, specifically,” Joran parroted in defeat.
Reigan thought to himself for a moment, “Hmph, I can understand your desire. But why you, Drekor?”
“Obviously to make sure he comes back safely.”
Reigan pondered on it as Joran quietly jabbed Drekor with an elbow, which Drekor reciprocated.
The duo tussled back and forth and then stopped suddenly once Reigan spoke up again, “Fine. The Crown Prince shall accompany the Joker.”
Reigan shifted his posture to be more relaxed, and gave a warm smile to them both, “How was today’s venture?”
Drekor grinned mischievously, “We were hoping to find more and clear them out, but we did about eight in total.”
“… In total, you say?” Reigan was taken aback, as he looked at Joran for verification, who could only sigh and shrug.
“Our Cael member learned how to become a large cat.”
Reigan nodded with understanding, “Cael has been acclimating rather well to their new station. To be honest, I never thought things would go so smoothly.”
Joran sighed to himself, musing, “Every day I find myself asking that. But, it is what it is right?”
The two of them agreed with Joran before they all split up after the request to head to the Borderlands was detailed more explicitly. Ever since Sentinalus had fallen, Yamatsumi had been taking the crossroad that went up to the Central Districts region, the distance being almost doubled of what they normally had to do. With Seizo now handling defense full-time, the Earthen Guild was required to take such extraordinary measures. As a result however, a caravan was in Portsmouth, leaving the next day; so the duo would join them on their journey back.
Retracing his journey back to the crossroads left Joran in a lull as he prepared to go in the morning, drifting away into sleep.
And yet another night went by where he heard not even a whisper from the Siren, much to his relief.