Zuriel opted to stay at Castle Brand for the moment. Some had whispered in his presence that he was in bad shape, while others believed he worried about another one of General Theo’s annoying escapades across the globe. Indeed, he sat on the steps outside the primary tower, gazing at whatever horizon he could find unobscured by the Hand of the White Maiden.
Eventually, his attention turned to the sculpture’s blade. He never thought he’d witness a flock of juvenile «Storm Wyverns» passing by on such a bright and lovely morning. Through the cage of limited opportunities that were his eyes, he caught a glimpse of a man waving at him from above, riding a wyvern with a familiar smile. But the man wasn’t there, never was. Only an asylum patient would believe he was there.
“Don’t lose hope, Zuriel,” said a sudden voice beside him. “We’ll win this no matter what and have all the dames we can date back home. I know we will!”
Once again, his memories played him like a worn fiddle. How many months had it been not to catch either of their tone and image without giving him the benefit of the miracle of being right for once? With a sigh pouring out of his weary breath, he gave up on the horizon and rested his head on his palm in disappointment. Oh, Ryan. I’m so sorry.
It was a lovely morning, to be sure, but his face didn’t show it. It was as bright as the summer child in times of peace and endless parties, but his eyes sagged. More recollections of a previous life danced around his thoughts in pure delight that he couldn’t return with the slightest smile. Soon, he discerned the voices calling him by a different name, only for it to change into the one that forged his sworn duty as Coelestis’ second-in-command.
“Come on, Zuriel. Don’t you wanna join me in the next fight?”
“Leave me be,” Zuriel begged.
“Zuriel… you’re being your old self again. Don’t make me yell back at you.”
“Leave me be!”
“Zuriel! Have some dignity, for goodness sake!”
Unbelievable. Zuriel never returned to his senses until now, thanks to his screen showing Swordland’s most divisive leader since his grandfather, surprisingly. Theo wasn’t the talkative type, but whenever he decided to be one, it was a testament to their conflicting outlook. If he were an owl prowling through the night, Theo was a falcon screeching through the day.
“A thousand apologies, sir!” he said, standing straight near the edge of the steps.
Theo gave him the face of a snarky detective who discovered a new trait from his suspect, caressing his chin as he observed his flustered disposition further. “I must say, Zuriel, you’re quite jumpy nowadays whenever I speak.”
“Please forgive me again, sir,” replied Zuriel. “It’s just the way you sound. It’s—”
“Unpredictable? Yes, I get that a lot.”
“No, I meant… Never mind. I’m still not used to it.”
“Well, you better learn fast, considering your power. Now, if you’re going to ask, ‘What brings you here, sir?’ I’d be more than glad to give you a short answer.” Despite what anyone would expect from a long-distance video call, Theo swished his hand upward as though he had summoned a mystical beast at his location.
Frankly, Zuriel’s assumptions were only half-correct. He noticed a twinkle in the sky growing in size until it landed before him as an iron sword of the most mundane nature. Engraving names across the blade of your first weapon was always customary, but this one only had the words “Hold Me” to share. Still, its color was as white as a winter summer at noon compared to his sword, bluer than the oceans that surrounded their world at every turn.
As though the devil spoke that day, Theo uttered, “I’m near the sea for now, Zuriel. Care to join?”
“Which one, sir?” Zuriel asked. “I don’t care if you’re dwelling in your own leisure as long as I know you’re still alive like I am. But please, why should I hold this?”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Because «Door Mails» don’t work where I’m at. You know what that means, don’t you?”
Zuriel stood in place, his pupils narrowing out of the heart rate that escalated faster than a rabbit in heat. Without a second thought, he grabbed the iron sword with both hands. Swordland didn’t have broomsticks or carpets, but they had the general’s unorthodox mode of transportation, even in the most remote areas.
The iron sword shook in place before it lifted Zuriel’s feet off the ground in less time than it would take for a flea to hop from one host to the next. His soul seemed to have commanded him to express every freight and terror once he passed through the clouds at breakneck speeds, never knowing where he’d end up.
Nevertheless, he prayed he wouldn’t fall into a mountain of jagged boulders that could filet his body into nothingness—or an active volcano ready to turn him into a grilled feast that could feed a bear family for days. Anything was possible through the actions of a general who loved adventure. Whether or not it was a curse depended on whether he could keep up until retirement.
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Theo was the happiness of sunshine, the boldness of the wind, and the ludicrousness of the orangutan in an animal sanctuary. He loved many more similar descriptions thrown at him for ages if he could do so a hundred times over. The principle mattered the most, especially when he discovered a marvelous relic of nature before him.
Sitting at a cliffside near the seas, he was among the first to witness how its unforgiving waves in the past could create the narrowest rocky hills scattered along the shores. It wouldn’t be inaccurate to say the limestone formations were like misshapen sugar cubes topped with moss. They stood the test of time far better than his ancestors against gout.
image [https://th.bing.com/th/id/OIG3.7JOkPbddL1vOX_8MOCR7?dpr=3&pid=ImgDetMain]
The only thing that would make this scene more worthwhile was another human to share it with, and as though his fortune had run out for the entire year, the world decided to grant his wish. Theo didn’t mistake the shaking thud behind him, carried by the scream of his ever-so-worried lieutenant. He didn’t even need to turn around, chuckling at his expense.
“If you vomited the way in, I’d be more than glad to give you a raise,” he said, standing straight with his arms crossed.
Zuriel groaned like he had lost all sensation in his lower half, but through his undying loyalty, he gave himself a good stretch. “No need, sir. I don’t have any mouths to feed.”
“Well, it’s your loss.” Theo returned to his spot, with the sword he sent levitating back to his hand before vanishing into a heap of pixels. “Do you know why «Door Mails» aren’t working where I stand? We may be at the world’s end, but it never adds up. How curious.”
“That could only mean two things, sir,” Zuriel replied. “It could mean you triggered an upcoming boss battle somewhere, but if not, it could also mean… No. Could it be?”
“Yes, Zuriel. You’re exactly on point. I’ve slain several of these things in my travels today.” Theo presented him with a trophy of the utmost macabre fashion: the severed heads of goblins tied to a string. But they weren’t the gray-skinned variety who were surprisingly a vital part of Swordland’s ecosystem.
“Green…” Zuriel muttered. “I can’t believe it, sir. I’ve seen one of them forming ravines down to the bedrock with a single slash of their rusted knives. It seems no one will ever surpass you.”
“I’m quite touched, but I failed to kill the rest. Those things swam back into the water and have formed an allegiance with a true behemoth of legend, which will be coming for us soon.”
“Behemoth? Sir, what could you possibly—”
Several magnitudes of tectonic madness bombarded the cliffside for a few minutes. Before long, the waves transformed into a cascade of ripples through every corner of the Hildian Ocean, causing many «Pink-tailed Gulls» to take it up to the skies in a frenzy. Even a school of «Megalo Reef Sharks» nearby couldn’t bank on their reputable girth to hang around any longer.
Zuriel barely kept his footing until he used his sword as a makeshift cane. “Sir, this earthquake is too strong. We must leave at once!”
“Many would say the same, so I don’t blame you.” Theo unsheathed his blade, shining under the sun with its golden luster. It was no surprise that it bore the name «King’s Fortune» despite never wearing a crown in his life. “Tell me, Zuriel, ever heard of stories of islands disappearing overnight when nobody’s watching? Creatures so massive that their backs have become the foundation for more insignificant life?”
“Yes, I have, sir. People say you never return once you’ve landed on them.”
“Well, it’s time for you to throw all those fancy rumors out the window… because these creatures are not living islands, and some have indeed returned.”
“How do you know?” asked Zuriel.
“I just do,” Theo turned to him with a smile, placing a hand on his chest. “On a related note, have you heard of this earthly continent named Africa? We’re about to see another right now.”
The explanation made as much sense as teaching a toddler algebra. But perhaps explanations were unnecessary from the start, begotten of the ocean turning pitch-dark as though it was nighttime underwater. Whether through the eyes of an owl or a falcon, a nameless fear had greeted them.
image [https://th.bing.com/th/id/OIG3.MioeJvsM8JH_fki7dpAY?dpr=3&pid=ImgDetMain]