Two Sides Working Together
Venry Stepholm found the abandoned port that afternoon. Following the river downstream, as instructed by the lady made out of earth and stone, he was able to avoid all of the Nightmares that stalked the shadows of the forest.
During the nights, he kept his Siffera in check to keep himself conscious while resting his body. He spent his Milled meiyal as necessary to keep himself awake and aware. And finally, after a week of sleepless nights and with barely anything left in his reserves, the destination was finally within his sights.
There was still a long way to travel. With his pace, he estimated he would arrive by nightfall—if his reserves could last that long. In any case, he couldn’t afford to stay in the forest for another nerve-wracking evening. He retreated from the cliff he scouted from rather than jump down to preserve his meiyal. Backtracking took him precious time but it was a fair trade, all things considered.
The roaring rush of water told him of a waterfall minutes before he even saw it. It was a tall drop, probably twenty meters high. He considered jumping on the pool below, but the sound of falling water, in addition to the churning waves caused by the waterfall made him decide against it. There might have been a trivia to determine the depth of a pool underneath a waterfall somewhere in the recess of his memories, but he was too tired to even attempt to recover it.
Not allowing indecision to paralyze him, he decided to cautiously stray away from the river for a while. Fortunately, he found a safe slope nearby. He inched his way down without incident and circled back towards the river.
After spending an hour traversing the rocky and rooted riverside, Venry settled on a nice rock and opened his Spatiera. The Art didn’t cost him any meiyal to open since it only took when storing meiyal-charged materials. Mundane items, such as preserved food and drinks, didn’t cost him anything to store or withdraw.
His tired mind lingered on this Art while he consumed the last of his rations. Spatiera was indeed a peculiar Meiyal Art, opening an illusionary space within himself and allowing him to deposit items from reality inside it. Naturally enough—and ironically—improving on the Art can be determined by the size of this personal imaginary space, which could only be technically judged by the performer of the Art.
The opening itself also had a fixed rule; a horizontal tear in space tilted slightly upwards that was never taller or wider than half a meter. It could only be accessed from above and it never spilled below. The practitioner was also required to reach inside, envision the item they stored, and pull it out with their own strength.
There were many a story of ruined Spatieras caused by malpractices such as storing heavy objects such as dragon horde chests or crates of minerals—a container and its contents were considered one object, and it was impossible to pull from inside it. It took trivial effort to push them into the tear—using leveraged orientation, Siffera, and two or more hands—but was impossible to pull out with one hand even with Siffera.
A peculiar Art indeed.
Meandering thoughts aside, it was finally time to venture on. Only, a strange person stared at him from across the river. The stranger slowly and cautiously raised both arms; a sign of a surrender. No, it was a showing of peaceful intentions.
Venry raised his own.
With their peaceful greetings displayed, the stranger began his approach, leaping across the wide flowing river in a single bound. He landed with a wide berth away from Venry.
“Strange to see an older fellow travelling outside of the protected zone,” the stranger said. He wore a full-fledged Vyndivalian Meiyal Forged armor. Removing his helm revealed spiky red hair and a pair of wide charcoal eyes. “And an Iristan at that.”
Old? As far as Venry was concerned, they looked both the same age. It prompted him to look at the clear side of the river. The reflection showed him a face he didn’t recognize. Untrimmed beard covered his face, thicker and wilder than what he usually kept. His wolf tail hair was longer, and there were also early signs of wrinkles on his forehead.
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So, this was the cost of my lifespan. It wasn’t quite what he envisioned but he couldn’t really complain. That lady of earth and stone did save his life after all.
“You okay, buddy?” the Vyndivalian returned him to reality. “I’m not sure if you knew, but there was a war just recently—between your nation and mine, I mean. But I’m all over that, so I come in peace, promise.”
“You bet your life on that?” Venry asked. His voice was coarse and was surprisingly deeper as well. It might just be because he hadn’t spoken a word for about a week now.
“Yes. I swear on my life,” the Vyndivalian smiled. “I’d Doff this armor if I could, but here in the Nightmare Lands, I’m sure you’ll understand.”
“Your name.”
“What?”
“Tell me your name.”
The stranger caught himself and straightened his posture. “Oh, right. Dystro Tirfang, Lord Knight, or maybe former Lord Knight.”
“Venry Stepholm,” he nodded. “Former Guard Knight.” He pulled apart half of the remaining strudel and tossed it over to Dystro. “I’m supposed to meet with twin Vyndivalian knights at the abandoned port by the end of this river. If you’re well over the war, I could use an escort.”
Dystro casually caught the pastry. “Sure.”
“Lead the way.”
The Lord Knight nodded and slowly turned, leaving his back open towards Venry. The thought of stabbing Dystro did cross his mind, but he quickly swiped it away. The war had already ended. Besides, he had not the meiyal reserves should it boil down to a brawl. And the Vyndivalian seemed more comfortable in this cursed place than he was.
Lastly, whether he would admit it or not, there were far larger, more dangerous enemies lingering in the shadows. If estranged personalities, like the earth lady—with mystical prowess of healing—were going out of their way to recruit exiled soldiers like him and the twins, it would be safe to assume that greater factors might be at play.
“So, the twins. Do they have a name?” Dystro said, obliviously distracting Venry from his thoughts.
“She didn’t tell me.”
“She?”
“The one who led me to this path.”
“You’re not just hallucinating that, are you, buddy?” Dystro turned to stop, but Venry shooed and signaled him to keep moving. “Okay, okay. Jeez.”
“Once we get to the port, we’ll know.” While he didn’t appreciate being distracted, the conversation spurred some questions. “How did you end up here, Dystro?”
The man in question looked to his left and Venry followed. They quickly saw Those That Fell Off a Cliff ironically climbing a tall one using eight gigantic ribs that acted like limbs of a spider. Nurtured by the meiyal of the Nightmare Lands, as well as without anybody to engage it in combat, Venry assumed these supposedly short-lived abominations could linger here for far longer.
A fate worse than death.
They slowly sneaked away before Dystro gave his answer. “Your Princess spared my life.”
“Ah, I remember. I was there when it happened.”
The Vyndivalian glanced back at him. “Oh, I thought you looked somewhat familiar. But I don’t remember fighting an old man like you.”
“I’m not old; I was aged.” Venry then proceeded to recall the events that happened within the peaks of the Rindea Mountain Range. How an unknown force of great malice forced him to risk his life off the mountain; how the lady of wood and vines pulled a spear-shaped rock shard from his abdomen; and how the same lady had turned to earth and stone to heal him using his lifespan.
All things considered, if they were to trust each other, Venry didn’t mind sharing this little escapade. If only Dystro would believe it.
“You know, buddy, that’s a really active imagination you have there,” the Vyndivalian said while scratching his head.
“At least, the bombs I was tasked to escort, I’m sure those were real,” Venry retaliated.
“Those…yeah, those were real.”
“So, they really are bombs?”
Without stopping, Dystro took a deep sigh. “I can’t say for sure. That’s just our assumption as well. Anyone sensitive to meiyal can tell that those are storing tremendous amounts of meiyal. But for what purpose, we really don’t know.”
The conversation abruptly ended on that as they were met by thick vines and foliage. Rather than cut his way through, Dystro sidetracked. Venry agreed with the decision. Cutting through would take too much energy and the noise would attract too much attention.
After an hour, they could finally see the final stretch. The forest opened to clear skies and grassy lands. A dirt road led straight to the abandoned port, and there were no Nightmares in sight. The river curved to the side, opening wide to merge with the sea.
“I’m sorry,” Venry began as they took the road.
“Yeah, me too,” Dystro replied with complete understanding.
The two didn’t speak about the casualties of war, but they did fight for opposing sides. Whether forced or not, it was their hands that ended lives of comrades and friends…maybe even family. But now, they needed to work together.
At that, relief washed over the Iristan Guard Knight. Days of sleepless nights finally caught up to him. With the destination in sight and with a companion he could somewhat trust, his body instinctively relaxed on his own. He fell to his knees as soon as his Siffera completely vanished.
“Hey, buddy! Hang on, we’re almost there!” Dystro caught him and helped him on his feet.
The final strings of consciousness slipped away from his mind, and Venry felt the tight embrace of sleep.
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