Two cloaked figures appeared from the shadows of the main room. With the fire long extinguished by the ascetic, only the moonlight could cast its gentler brightness on them through the burnt-down window. Made of some sort of black cloth, not unlike what the sage discarded, the capes and hoods were unable to produce any kind of reflection, making them look foreign to light—creatures born and raised by the shadows. Only their height could truly distinguish the two.
The shorter one, owner of the mysterious voice, was of the slender type. His mask, as difficult to discern as it was, shared the same color and properties as the dark material covering the rest of his body. The tallest had broader shoulders. The “Captain’s” more imposing frame was amplified by the ambient darkness where only blades and mirrors could shine under the full moon. Both stepped forward to the bedroom, but none made any sounds doing so.
“Honestly, we were surprised to see you emerge from the fire. We knew Naar-Aje was compromised, but who could have guessed full-fledged heretics were already within their ranks?”
The slender man’s voice, with his surprisingly relaxed and humorous tone, felt like an incongruity as he stood at the door of a room filled with bloodlust moments earlier. His apparent superior stood behind him in silence.
“Spare me the innocent act. If you were truly concerned with heresy, you would have extinguished the boy as soon as those flames emerged. Must I assume Lord Elias to be one as well since Bathory seems compromised too?” Alvan lowered the tension in his voice to match the much younger man. His body, then again, looked ready for action.
Unable to grasp anything in the conversation, Kallen, close to having his consciousness completely fade away, could only spectate the scene unfolding before him. Four Vessels were now in his humble home, his siblings nowhere to be seen.
“Black Swans like you sure are clever. However, I doubt your peers would appreciate that thing all over half your face.” After a brief pause and a step forward, he continued. ”Unfortunately, I think this is where our conversation ends. Now you, on the other hand, son of Dumas…” An arm almost as dark as his cloak extended out of the cloth, finger pointed toward the sage’s disciple.
“Someone like you shouldn’t sully this name with their mouth.” Replied Aren in a stern and spiteful tone.
“Oh…I’m in hope that you will keep the same discourse for your dead master, kid. Now rest, we will talk after we are done cleaning up here.” The instant this sentence came to an end, what looked like a cable sprung from the window, tightly coiling itself on the injured young warrior’s neck, surprising him and his guardian both.
Before the burning man could act, the larger mystery man standing behind his more talkative counterpart, extended his arm in an attack that forced the sage to protect himself, holding his daggers in a crossguard. Generating sparks illuminating the room, the short blades were clashing in a power struggle with the tall shadow’s clawed gauntlet made of dark metal.
At the same time, the young noble was suddenly dragged out of the room with force through the window. Only a short scream made itself heard as he was pulled away. His master could merely watch with a concerned expression as he had other matters on his hands.
“Now I guess it is time for a well-deserved rest, don’t you think, old man.” The playful shadow was already sitting on the burnt and sullied bed right next to the battered boy. Even though he was closer, the man still felt almost intangible.
“Are you leeches so thirsty for power?... Who am I talking to? All invaders are of the same flock.”
Pushing away his opponent, the man joined his hands and daggers together. Powerful gusts of wind flooded the room to spiral all around the sage. Kallen was about to witness the true difference between a student and a master.
An explosion.
The strong currents converging in this small confined place were all released with tremendous force in all directions. Blasting away furniture, walls, and people alike in one thundering fell swoop. The boy could have never guessed that when he closed his eyes prior to the incoming shockwave, he would re-open them seconds later in the night sky, high above the ground.
“Quite resourceful, aren’t you? Anyone would have already fainted by now.”
Before panic could even set in, the slender shadow’s voice resounded from behind, holding the halfling’s broken body in his arm. Embracing the thrill of free falling over Melhem, devoid of fear, his cape was following them in their descent.
As the man spoke, he threw what looked like a metal stake from his belt. Linked to the same kind of cable from earlier, it landed deep into the tower they were falling out of. When the cable taut, they were now swinging towards it with dangerous speed. Bracing for imminent impact, Kallen could only be surprised by how gently his savior’s feet landed against the stone walls.
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Now secured and suspended by a thread, with Kallen clutched between his lap and an arm, the mysterious man reached for his belt once again. Planting then removing a needle from the child’s neck before he could even react, he then placed what looked like an old necklace in the boy’s hand.
“You’re only alive because you turned, kid. I shielded you from his attack just now, but even then, you were already in a sorry state.” The man then gently put a thumb on his forehead.” This should alleviate the pain. Focus on that thing in your hand and rest for now. You've done enough.” Kallen, who had been almost completely short of breath until now, finally felt relief. The pain, the anger, the bloodlust slowly flowed out of his mind, washed away by a different kind of warmth. It was completely antithetical to what he was producing earlier. This one felt like peace. However, the only feeling that remained was sadness.
“…Wh-…Where is—”
“They’re safe, probably sleeping soundly with that baby Swan from earlier. You gave him quite the beating. I wasn’t expecting it, honestly. But you should stop talking now, I’m having a hard time keeping your mark at bay. I need to focus.”
Too tired to consider any kind of deeper implication associated with what he had just heard, he was satisfied with the first sentence. He relaxed his injured body, feeling less and less discomfort. He closed his eyes, letting himself drift away by this strange sensation going from his head to the hand holding the necklace. He was done with the suffering; he was done with today.
As he was about to fall into the embrace of sleep, a green glow bright enough to be seen through his eyelid shook him out of his torpor. His gaze went up to the stars.
Far away, beyond the Thorn more brilliant than ever, over the horizon, colossal spectral roots reached for the heavens. Tangled in a chaotic manner, they spread all over the night sky, covering even Melhem and beyond with its jade radiance. The Inverted Tree arrived.
“Ha…A descent? Today? The heavens are watching you closely.” The cloaked man turned his head back to his patient after briefly looking up. “Now, is it a blessing or a curse?”
Kallen remembered every time he witnessed the Tree towering over the world. The only beautiful thing those who roamed this world could all share. Even for the non-believers, this touch of divinity was their only hint that maybe, at the very least, there was something greater than themselves in the universe. Greater than the Empire, greater than the unforgiving lives most had to go through. Last time, it was the night before his mother left, that unforgettable night.
His long contemplation was interrupted by loud blade clashes followed by rock-breaking sounds. Looking above him, Alvan of Naar-Aje was falling through another new hole carved on the Hollow Tower, his fiery half-mane eclipsed by the green sky. As he arrived at their level, one of his two daggers was thrown at high speed towards Kal. Somehow even faster, his savior caught the short weapon by the hilt and then threw it far away immediately.
“Oh, you don’t give up, do you? Too weak to come by yourself?” Snarkly replied the suspended shadow.
Quickly following behind, his accomplice flew down head-first into the enemy, taking him away to the ground in an instant. They crashed loudly into a decrepit wooden house below. After a moment, they both exited the ruin through a cloud of dust and debris. They took the fight to the streets.
“...You…shouldn’t you help him?…This old man…He is dangerous…” Struggling to string a sentence together, Kal’s aversion for the man who tortured him was strong enough to stress his vocal cords once more.
“Don’t worry for the Captain, he is more than enough. It hurts to say, but I’m only small fry compared to them. Let’s say I am just really good at my job.” After a short pause, the man continued, “Enough with the questions; just close your eyes and concentrate. We need you human.”
Contrary to the man’s instruction, the child's eyes dropped down back on the battle scene. For the first time, he could witness these battlefield tales retired drunk soldiers from the city were narrating. The Vessels of the Tree. Those who, after receiving the mark, he could only dream of becoming.
What he saw seemed less grandiose than the stories, but his short battle with Aren made him more appreciative and aware of how people like them fought. They were not clashing swords and claws for the sake of it. Now wiser, he knew that just like earlier, every hit was meant to kill. The sound of metal only signified a successful parry.
Down below, none of the two warriors were giving an inch to the other. Firmly planted in their positions, their weapons flew at such speed that their sounds were better references to follow their rhythm. The clawed shadow had a short sword in the other hand while using his gauntlet as a shield. In front of him, matching his cadence, the sage used his remaining dagger to attack and his free hand to swiftly deflect the incoming blows.
With a rising knee to his opponent’s longer blade pommel, the only remaining Swan of the night sent the weapon up in the air. Quickly following up by joining both his hands to his chest, he then pushed forward, sending the shadow against the house behind him, lifted up by the generated wind current. Even from where they were watching, the two spectators could feel a gentle breeze.
Without even letting his challenger land, using the aspiration of his own stream, he flew toward him at high speed, catching the abandoned blade in his path. As he closed the distance, he launched an attack from both sides, forcing his opponent on the receiving end to choose between two blades—which one would hurt the most?
The sound produced by the clash wasn’t the one boy expected. Two metallic shrills, one from the gauntlet, the other from the tall shadow’s bare hand. Now at his mercy, the sage was thrown back violently to the ground. Recovering hastily with a roll, he quickly went back to kneeling as blood spurted out his left calf and shoulder, pierced by an invisible force or something too fast for Kallen to even perceive. As the boy saw the cloaked warrior walking towards this man who tormented him and his family, he could only be taken aback by how helpless he was. He who neutralized him with a single kick.
The moment the masked man jumped forward to finish the job, the golden flames erupted a final time, pushing him away. Bolstered by a new spiraling current, they grew taller than some of the houses around. However, expecting another explosion like before, Kal couldn’t have predicted what followed instead. Incoming with explosive velocity, a fire arrow came in their direction. His caretaker could barely react.
“KID COVER YOUR HEA—”
A deafening blast sent the both of them flying away once more. In his field of vision, the night sky with its phantom roots fading away, the tower, his home, crumbling upon him. And finally, the now unmasked man who had just saved him minutes prior launched his hand forward—desperately trying to reach for his hand.
This was the last thing he saw before his consciousness fell into nothingness.
End of Chapter