The town of Cadia was in no shape or form an impressive place. With a meager population of sixty thousand, it was barely in the numbers to be called a city, but with the booming farming industry laid thick on the surrounding flats, it had recently attracted waves of migrants from all over Cradle to live out romanticized ideals of life. Nothing fills the periphery like good propaganda, courtesy of the Eyes of the Governor.

The town sat on a flat plain in between vast areas of orchards and fields - one of the few cities where there had never been a wall or any other type of defensive border to protect the inhabitants.

In fact, before the Purge, the plains of Cadia had been flat and overgrown - unclaimed territory that the Governor had tilled and prepared for the surrounding villages, even going as far as to build the initial housing to attract the settlers. The town was to be one of his first attempts to lure the people out of their walled cities to make use of the land of Cradle as a whole - the realization of the dream of a world free of Monstrum, facilitated by the distance between Cadia and the closest Hive.

Logan had always argued that it had been premature - that the Hives could still infest over the vast distances. But as the white foxhound carried the two Ghasts through the unending fields of corn and wheat, he had to give it to the man… he had built a safehaven. A damn fine one, at that.

Logan and Smile hadn’t spoken a word all day. It had been years since Logan last traveled this far to the east and he had spent his time eyeing the scenery - the fertile grounds, the freshly constructed farms and the obvious Citadelians who had moved out to start lives anew in the periphery. To him, it was… romantic, in a sense. Not that he had ever considered himself out in the fields, swinging a scythe under the scorching sun, but he could see how that life could appeal to the civilians.

He sat behind Smile, clutching her who in turn clutched the saddle of the gentle beast. He watched the town in the distance grow closer over her shoulder and every so often, she’d turn as if she wished to say something, only to think the better of it and return to stare forwards.

The town was not tightly packed and the Governor had had his best planners space the buildings out to allow ample space for urbanization. As they rode past the watchtowers, he might’ve been mistaken for thinking that every house had massive gardens, had he not had to listen to the man’s wine-fuelled praise of the Engineers who had built the place. There were three structures that had given them the greatest challenge - one being the tall church in the middle of the town. It had been constructed from the finest gray marble in the lands and transported across Cradle to create the place of worship. Logan immediately found it lacking - for one, the size was laughable compared to the churches of the Citadel. Secondly, it was nearly entirely devoid of all the religious iconography he’d enjoyed. There were no glass murals of the crossed Blessed Blades, no depictions of the Governor - not even of the Ideal Man. Instead, they had installed panes of rose-and-green in the form of flowers, fields and workers - certainly a good symbolism, but it lacked the punch that Logan enjoyed seeing in the Citadel.

Further, the Garrison stood tall atop a small elevation near the back of the town - furthest to the east. It had been constructed by the finest granite in the lands - as was common. The warriors were supposed to be simple, yet strong - the regular man turned hero, but stoic and moderate; the granite fit the men it housed. The four artillery towers were a bit less than Logan would’ve hoped for, but he could hardly complain - this was a peaceful region, after all; certainly one of the rare cases where he could abide by the idea that a military presence was not needed in its entirety. But he still wondered how long they’d hold out against a horde…

Lastly, the Administrator’s building stood slightly to the west of the church - a wooden giant capable of housing, servicing and running the administration of the town. Where the other two amenities displayed the extremes of lavishness and stoicism, this one was a construct of order and comfort. The choice of wood, along with its statues of the Heroes of administration had been perfectly selected for the building and the region. Tall, sculpted hedges to display their mastery of the green elements, Lorgan the Factorymaster immortalized in obsidian to remind the People to be diligent and lastly, but not least, a wide balcony from which the Administrator could behold the town.

Logan took in the sights as they arrived by the stable, frightened the poor stablehand and dropped the beast off to be fed and rested after the long journey.

It hadn’t taken long for the citizens to notice them. They stood out like a sore thumb - clad in black with their white masks. But something about how they reacted struck Logan as… different. Rather than scuttle off like most other civilians did, they seemed to almost walk slower and more determinately, as if willfully ‘playing it cool’. He turned to question his companion, only for her to nod and state: “Yes, I’ve noticed too.”

They took to the right and, as protocol demanded of the Eyes, they intended to go question the Captain of the Guard before visiting the other stations, but they only made it a few steps before Logan got struck by a second realization - a tingle at the back of his neck. His hand reflexively went for his hip as he felt it, but as he turned and scanned the plaza with its cobbled street and the lavish fountain, he saw… nothing. Only more unnerved civilians determined not to meet his gaze.

“What is it? Do you feel anything?” Smile whispered as mutely as ever. Logan nodded a stern response. “Yes. It’s… I feel… There’s Monstrum here - somewhere.”

He glanced over at the Administrator building with a glare and went on to inform: “It’s like we’re in the middle of a Hive.”

___

Abraham had greedily consumed what remained of yesterday’s stew from the bowl. He had been starved and dehydrated from the night’s misadventures behind the latrine that he hadn’t even gotten to taste the food as he washed it down with plentiful water.

Next to him, Luna sat and rested her head on her supple fist - her lips drawn into a melancholic frown of disappointment. After years apart, it seemed Guy was all too eager to get away from her - even having gone as far as to ditch him with his crazed, eccentric father.

At the end of the table, seated atop and next to the throne, sat Jorn and Serah, eyeing their visitors in silence with similar, wide grins of joy. “C’mon, you eat up now, girl. We’ve got a long day aheaduvus and there ain’t no food where you’re goin’.” Luna didn’t like the sound of that. She didn’t like the sound of that one bit. She looked up from the bowl towards the threatening duo at the end of the table, where she cocked her head - dropping a lock of her honey-blonde hair into the worn metal bowl of gray soup.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“S-Sorry… we didn’t really get introduced that well last night. I’m… I’m Luna. I-” The old man excitedly clapped his hands - cutting her off with a frighteningly loud:

“Oh, we know who you is, girl! It was the first thing he said when I picked him up - ‘I need to find Luna!’. Boy, we didn’t think you were real. Thought you people were Toofy’s mind-critters or somethin’.” His wide, golden grin glinted in the overhead light of the lantern. Somehow, it was easier to understand him now that Logan was gone - as if they spoke more similarly to herself.

Serah chimed in: “I wasn’t here back then, but I could hear him when he was a bit older… he’d still cry at night. That, and he’d beat his meat somethin’ fierce! I could hear him straight through the wall! He’d go ‘Luna… Luna…’ real silent-like.”

Abraham had raised the bowl to his mouth to lap up the leftovers, only to nearly choke as he heard Serah’s recount of Logan’s misadventures. It was hard to think of him as anything other than the warrior he had gotten to know, but he found that there was a certain comfort in that… he, too, was a human - however slight.

Luna was left gawking at them. Blinking rapidly, she attempted to make sense of the tale. Was she supposed to be charmed by this information? She was, to an extent. But it felt odd coming from a family she hadn’t heard a word about until they were actually there. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head: “I-... well, that’s neat. He hasn’t said a word about you two, so I’m still a bit lost as to what’s going on here… we’re here to train?” The old man snapped his fingers and excitedly nodded.

“Dang right, lil’ girl. Ain’t no one in Cradle better at training young warriors than me. I reckon’ I’m the only one who can teach you to use the backmeat, since Toofy’s decided not to learn it, himself.”

“W-What? Backmeat?” She questioned.

He grinned ever wider. “Yeah, whas Toofy callin’ it? The symbal? I ain’t gonna have none of that talk from you while you’re here - I’mma teach you how to use it. It ain’t gonna be fun - not always. But you’ll get the hang of it, she’s a nice ‘un.”

“She?” Luna raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Dang right. I guess you don’t know how to talk to her yet… we’ll get to that. She’s very nice - she’s talking to my meat right now.” Logan had mentioned this. He had trained him in the symbiote, but he hadn’t been very specific. The fact that they had genders and were even able to communicate was news to her and, as much as she found the thing frightening, it was an intriguing prospect.

“And you, lil’ boy. I know my Serah may not be the best looker, but I’d say there ain’t none better to teach you how to use your mind-magic than her. She a powerful minder.” Abraham questioned what to answer. Typically, for him, he’d stay silent and anonymous. But what would Logan have done in his shoes? Would he have just sat there in silence like some lost lamb? He had done well in catching Luna - maybe, he thought, he should try to mimic some of his charm…

“I’m sure she is. But I d-don’t agree - she’s very b-beautiful.” Still, he couldn’t kill the stutter. The old man looked to the boy - horrified at what he had just said, whereas Serah grinned widely with bright-red, flushed cheeks. Jorn glanced back and forth between the two, looking as if he had just seen the Behemoth of Anza.

“Good grape, boy… I mean, there ain’t no accountin’ for tastes, but… I mean, are we lookin’ at the same girl?” The fact he’d say such things about his daughter angered both Abraham and Luna, but Serah seemed far more keen to hear Abraham continue to speak his stuttered poetry than react to her Father’s admonishings.

“I got better-lookin’ hounds out the back - my lawd. Speakin’ of which, Toofy mentioned you needed hounds… we’ve got all types and kinds here - this where they come when their partners die out there in the battle. You better get to knowin’ ‘em, but we got a tight schedule so you gotta do that on your own time.”

Luna cocked her head suspiciously - she hadn’t liked those last words.

“What do you mean tight schedule?”

___

To Luna’s undying surprise, Jorn had started their day off by leading her up the long, warm stairs and up into the second floors - into a room she had yet to explore. There, the old man had straightened his jacket coat and proclaimed: “This my pride and joy, girl, lemme know what you think!”

The room was uncomfortably warm and the reason for it was clear. There was a complete lack of ventilation and every nook and cranny of the wooden chamber had been covered in what appeared to be a paper-like, thick, gray substance.

Most curious of all was the monstrously large, black iron casket on the floor - more fit for the tombs she had read of in her books than anything meant to act as a bed. To top it off, there was water in the damn thing, but at least it seemed clean, as opposed to the mires she had dredged through for the past few days.

Jorn closed the door after her and the room fell to an almost unnatural silence - a silence in which she could only hear her own breathing and even her heartbeats.

“It’s… I’m not really sure what to say, Jorn. Nice and warm?” As excitedly as ever, he rubbed his palms together and grinned.

“Right!? I call it ol’ Pa’s sleepcoffin! Enjoy it while you can - you gonna hate it by tomorrow.” He giggled into his hand and motioned for the coffin.

“W-what? Why?” She had begun to explore her hesitations when it came to the eccentric man. As if to imitate Logan, he reached for his chin and rubbed the scruff white hair to explain: “‘Cause you’re gonna be spending the day in there, of course. But it’s fine, you got the meat for company - time’s gonna fly by, you just wait.” He raised a confident thumb at her, only for Luna to take a step back towards the far wall and shake her head.

“I’m not going in there. Sorry, Jorn, but I’m not-”

“It’s all good, you call me ‘Pa’, girl. We’re family, you can trust ol’ Pa, can’t you?” His insistence, the grin and his dilapidated jacket did not fill her with confidence. Taking another step back, she felt her heel against the wall.

“What’s the point of it? What am I supposed to train in there?” She pointed to the casket, only to find him scratching his chin as if pondering the same question. After a moment’s thought, he snapped his fingers again and said: “Oh, right. Glad you reminded me - you’re gonna go in there and you’re gonna empty your mind. You gonna open yourself to her and learn how to talk together.”

She furrowed her brow in hopes it would earn her some pittance - that he’d see the insanity of the request. But try as she might, there was no getting through to the man. Logan wouldn’t have dumped her there if this man was going to kill her, would he? Surely, he’d have to trust this man immensely to have abandoned her with this mad, old eccentric… right?

“You just strip down now and get in there - empty that pretty lil’ head of yours and just talk. Aight?”

As much as she wanted to push past him and flee, she was at his mercy. This thing was inside her and no matter what it took, she had to learn what that meant. She had to get stronger… she had to get better. Logan counted on her for it - a lot of people counted on her for it. But most of all she needed it, lest she’d never be capable of defending herself or Logan.

She had done as he had instructed and stripped down and under the cover of her arms and hands, she’d gotten into the lukewarm water and only panicked slightly as he closed the lid - sealing her in with a last, golden grin.

“Sleep tight, lil’ one.”