Margot whistled to attract Mahon’s attention as she flashed him a hand sign. Understanding the woman's attempt and trying to forget the vision of Sybil’s body on the ground, Mahon aimed his lance at the legs of the approaching general, pinning him for an instant.
This instant was all that Margot needed as she rushed behind the monster, jumped, and attacked the unprotected neck. But the giant monster was surprisingly agile. He pivoted just enough to let the sword graze at his carapace without damage. Margot rolled on the ground and repositioned herself behind the general.
The fight froze for an instant as the three protagonists gauged each other. They ignored the screams and the dying warriors beside them and prepared for their own fight. Mahon and Margot moved around the now immobile general with careful steps. Their breathings synchronized and, as they both entered the Flow, their dance started.
A fast jab was parried by an ax while Margot’s dual swords rained attacks at impossible angles. The general blocked them all and retaliated with a quick swipe but Mahon’s lance was already here, securing Margot’s retreat.
Exchanges became faster and faster as lance, swords and axes began their own ballet. The human tandem was jumping left and right, searching for gaps in the general defense. They played tricks and fakes, hid their real attacks behind layers and layers of counterfeits. They laid deadly traps multiple strikes ahead, but the general saw through them all.
In fact, he was never really threatened and after a minute of the incredible spectacle, he sighed, bored. As he went on the offensive for the first time, Mahon and Margot were pushed away with baffling ease. The general was too strong, and each blow forced them to step back.
Despite the unfavorable condition, the duo preserved its amazing coordination. They were always at the right place at the perfect time to save each other. A parrying move here, a slowing attack there. They leaned on each other as if they were just practicing a well-known routine.
But they were not. And in this game of life and death, it was the general who imposed the pace. And he was increasing his speed. Again and again.
Until the first mistake.
The general was too strong. Mahon was too slow. He was pushed back a tiny bit farther than before, and Margot didn’t see it in the fast-paced battle. She went alone against the monstrous general for a bit too long.
Her swords were discarded. Her dodge was predicted. The ax picked her just below the neck and her head was sent flying.
And just like that, she was gone.
Fury started to build in Mahon's chest. They had invested so much in this fight they could not afford to lose. Not now. They had pierced the Amentiae line. They had run through the Amentiae blockade. They had sacrificed warriors, good men and women, so that they could have this opportunity. Abbott died. Kara died. Sybil died. Shit, even Margot died. He would not fail them. He could not fail them.
He clenched his fists on his lance, ravenous rage now boiling inside him. He tried to stay lucid, despite his strong emotions. Observing the general’s posture, he analyzed the possibilities. His brain ran into overdrive as he imagined different scenarios to put down the demon.
It was one of those moments where time seems to slow down. His thoughts enlightened the only way out and he just had to live the instant. Be the instant.
Mahon moved his right foot and propelled himself forward.
His forefoot sank a bit in the earth, soiled by the blood of his comrades, but he kept his balance.
While he stepped on his left foot to continue his course, he raised his arms, aligning his lance with the head of the general.
With his third step, he reached top speed and the massive insect had yet to move.
The fourth step brought his body into perfect shape.
His left leg, stretching behind him, had thrusted him upward. His right leg was bent in front of him, as if to drill faster through the air. His arms were tightened to the maximum, prepared for the shock. His shoulders were lined towards the enemy. His eyes were fixed on the target, unwavering.
The lance was the finishing touch of the picture. Kept parallel to the hips and shoulders, it was the instrument that would bring death upon anyone in its path.
The weapon was now centimeters away from the general’s head, and his fate was imminent. Mahon could almost picture the spiked head when the general dodged.
He just dodged.
As if to humiliate Mahon and ruin his moment, the general had left his motionless state at the last instant. The speed was inhuman. One moment his head was on the lance’s path and the next it wasn’t.
Mahon’s momentum propelled him forward, and now with no flesh to stop it, the job went to the hard ground. Mahon crashed with a heavy thud and rolled twice before lying still.
Physically unhurt. Spiritually crushed.
The general mocking laugh echoed in the silence following his fall. They had failed. Mahon had failed.
And now they would all die.
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“Last White Margot, his second and duo, gripped the general's weapons in her dying breath, giving Last Red Mahon the opportunity to deal a fatal strike and bring the general down.”
“That’s what the report said?”
“Yes.”
“Commander Mahon, you confirm that’s how it happened?”
Mahon was lost in unpleasant thoughts and did not hear at first.
“Commander? Do you confirm?”
Mahon came back to his senses, his face emotionless.
“Yes.”
“And the exhausting fight made you lose consciousness in Nightmare and you somehow... woke up?”
“Yes. That’s what happened.”
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The man in green robes behind Mahon spoke for the first time.
“Do you know how exactly it happened? It’s unprecedented to pass out in a dream to wake up in reality.”
The Red counselor snapped back. “That’s because it’s just a lie! He deserted after the death of his men, that’s it!”
“Calm down, Valda. I would also like to discuss the topic of potential desertion. But properly.” The Blue counselor scowled at the impulsive man who had talked before continuing. “Do we have to blame the commander for something? Greens, your thoughts?”
“It is quite a unique scenario. If we are to believe the words of the commander, it could shed a new light of Nightmare. If the commander did lie, at least he was imaginative. I don’t see the need to blame him for this.”
“Yellows, suggestions?”
“A traumatic event such as this one would make even the best warrior cower in fear. There is nothing to reprimand.”
“Blacks, what do you say?”
“The commander abandoned his duty. But all his comrades were dead and he did fulfill his task. Besides, if the Nightmare war really is over, the sentence does not matter.”
“I think we all know what Valda thinks. Would you like to add something, Gaylia?” The red woman shook her head. “Okay. Then, Whites, it's your turn.”
“The Amentiae general is dead. The job being done, there is nothing to add.”
The counselors were so used to the process that there was no pause during the fast back-and-forth. Each of them was a piece of a well-oiled mechanism, prone to take quick optimal decisions. The old Blue woman who had welcomed Mahon when he entered concluded the discussion.
“We will not pursue further on this topic. The commander should not be blamed for this matter.” She then looked back at the man in blue robes. And, as if the mechanism had now been reset, it started its machinery over again.
“Now, on the subject of the total eradication of the Amentiae and the end of the Nightmare war. Whites, please, proceed with the complementary information.”
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“The Nightmare war is over.”
The conclusion given by the Blue counselor reverberated in Mahon’s mind. It really was over.
Finally.
It had been 22 long years and even more since he knew he had been fighting in Nightmare before his last death. To reach this conclusion, the meeting had lasted two long hours with endless questions and discussions.
When Mahon was finally allowed to leave, the Blue woman discreetly gestured to him and he waited near the door for the counselors to exit one by one. Once they all left, she approached him.
“Thanks for waiting, Mahon.”
Mahon grunted in response. The reunion had been way too long and the mere mention of a Color would get him sick for a week. She smiled at him as if she had read his thoughts and sympathized.
“The Council can be quite overwhelming when you are not used to it. And we had some heavy topics to discuss today.”
“What do you want, counselor?” His tone came harsher than he expected, but Mahon just wanted to leave this place as he already felt a headache coming.
“Straight to the point, I see.” She sighed. “I came to you not as a counselor but as an old friend.”
I know her? Mahon was surprised at the revelation, but he didn’t have to think too hard about it as the woman pursued.
“I knew you. Before you... lost your memory. We were good friends actually.” Seeing the skeptic look on Mahon’s face, she laughed.
It was not a counselor’s controlled laugh. No, it was a genuine laugh. A joyous laugh of someone meeting a friend after a long time. A nostalgic laugh, too. Mahon knew this laugh. Too well. He had been in her shoes too often not to recognize it. The awkwardness of being with a friend that had no idea who you were. He chased the unpleasant memories and focused back on the conversation.
“A Nightmare commander and a counselor? It’s a strange duo.”
“Oh, we were quite the duo. But you misunderstood. I knew you from before Nightmare.”
This time, Mahon froze for a whole second. Although not impossible, it was rare to find someone that has memories of before Nightmare. She could tell him who he was. What he had done during 180 years of his life, before dying to Nightmare. Before the fights. Before the war. He had once dreamed of knowing who he was, like most in his situation.
But was it worth something now? He was at the door of a new life. He was someone else. He had decided to cut any bridge that could hold him back. He would not create another here. In the end, Mahon buried his curiosity and refrained from asking.
The counselor seemed to have understood his dilemma, and she had paused for a few seconds before speaking again.
“We agreed I would help you once all this is over. And it seems the time is now. What do you plan to do in the future?”
He composed himself. Now he was back in known territories. He hesitated, remembering Nimeroni's advice about ending the war, but in front of so many painful memories he couldn’t find the strength to lie to the woman.
“The Nightmare war is over but the war still lasts. No one should have to live with a war at their door.”
Mahon observed with attention how she reacted, but the woman only appeared sad.
“You want to end the war? Is that your life goal? You don’t know anything about Ratho, you’re weak and you’ve no acquaintances. Look at you, it will take decades before you’re in a position to influence the war, and centuries before you actually end it. It’s not a plan, it’s a way out from life.”
Mahon grimaced at her lecture, but before he had time to defend his cause, she continued.
“You’ve lost your friends. You’re alone in a foreign world. It’s normal you don't really know what to do, who you are... Please consider something other than the war. Take your time. Build your life back step by step. Heal your body. Find a peaceful hobby. Make friends.”
“I don’t want to make friends.”
“Oh, but you’ll have to. There is no life without friends. Only empty shells.”
“I don’t want to make friends as long as the war stands.” Mahon elaborated.
She smiled sadly in return. “You know, a goal is just a decoy we set ourselves to have some semblance of purpose. But the truth is nobody really wants to accomplish their goal. There is no purpose in it. A goal means nothing. Only the journey matters. The people you meet. The little things you do. The way you feel. A life is not filled by a goal. A life is filled by a journey. Accomplishing a goal is just the last step of that journey. Ending the war may be your last step, but what is the first? The second? The one after it?”
Her little speech got Mahon thinking, but not for long. He had already walked this path before. And he knew what was at the end.
“I will train. Alone. Until I’m as strong as I’m in Nightmare. That’s the next step.”
She sighed and turned her head away, as if she didn’t want to partake in his decision. After a few seconds of silence, she looked back at him. “Let’s compromise. I know people at the Pine Hill Officer Institute. The next class starts in two months. I could get you there. It’ll help your train much faster. But you’ll not be alone.”
Mahon deadpanned. The Pine Hill Officer Institute was one of the most prestigious officer’s schools in Ratho. Even he knew about it. Usually, only nobles were allowed in, except for some rare occurrences. Both a Nightmare warrior and a commoner, Mahon stood no chance to train there. Unless he had a counselor helping him. Her offer could save him years at the minimum. And he could always ignore people. The offer was too big to pass.
“I would be very indebted to you if you could manage that…”
She waved him off as if it was nothing.
“As I said, I am myself repaying a favor, so you would owe me nothing. Just consider it done.” She paused. “And if you can take advice from an old woman, being so alone and depressed doesn't suit you. You’ll soon jump into the lion’s den that is the nobles world. Choose your friends wisely, my dear, but choose them quickly.”
She then left him and walked away. But she stopped after a few steps, and without looking back, she spoke again.
“If I may add, it would be a waste not to listen to your music again. I suggest you try the harmonica. Good luck on your path.”
Even without seeing her face, he could tell she had been smiling just now. It had transpired in her voice. Mahon watched in silence as she disappeared at the end of the street.