I saw it. Those purple flames, darting along the woodworks. I cannot move. Whenever I want my feet to walk, it responds with a tingling numb.
I heard a voice.
“Everyone, hide!”
Though I cannot move. As the fire loomed closer, I felt a hand dragging me from behind with such a force that it made me stumble to the ground. It tried to get up and run. As I look to the hand’s general direction, there were silhouettes. The orange bloom erased every one of their faces--
No.
The flame touched their skin. It immolated them. I ran as past them, as fast I could, for as long as my lungs are still breathing. Booming explosions, the clash of steel and the smell of gunpowder permeated my senses. I had to inhale the thick smoke in front of me. It was bitter, so much so that my throat dried up every time the polluted air got through my nostrils. I was about to give up. Right ahead, I saw a door, but my legs finally gave off. I let my body get slammed to its hard wood.
It was darkness.
The cold and heat conflicted on my skin.
Nothing responded.
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Mido opened his eyes. He woke up to a sweat-covered skin, which gave an aura of heat despite the cold temperature around him. Those images… It clung to him like a child to their mother, desperately remembering, for the sake of just remembering. With a broken mind, he could not comprehend it yet.
But he felt it deep within.
For a moment, he wondered how he got here. The sumptuous food he shared. The warm lights of the night. The image of a wisteria tree, as well as the face of a particular girl, and her captivating emerald eyes.
Right. D-7, Vassals, ‘rescued’ him from the brink of death. After that dream, however, Mido did not feel any emotional burden in him when he got up. His mind was torn between two sides. He wants to let it go, but in his depths, he wants revenge. That is why he was subconsciously clinging to those harrowing memories.
He gathered his senses. He was in a modern room. An unusually comfortable bed, warm palette of wallpaper, and a large, black glass above the door. It was outlined by plastic and had a red light at the bottom. It’s back was attached to a holder, and a wire jutted out of it and into a socket. Mido identified that it was a ‘television,’ a vaguely rare device in his town, usually circled around by children to watch flaky, grained projections.
Standing up from the bed, he opened the door. What greeted him was a simple living room. A coffee table set made with pine stood in the center. A counter filled with drinks (possibly booze) owned the space of a whole corner. The floor was cloth rugged. He looked to the right side, however, and saw the sun, through a full window that encompassed almost half the room, amidst the blue sky. A rare occurrence to him, coming from a town within a valley, rough with trees, at that. What distracted him, however, was the imposing figure standing on the window, with their front facing it. A tall, muscular build, shirtless and arms crossed, with a hair he made out to actually be a mullet. He decided it would be best to notify the man he was awake.
“Uhm… Good morning?” He said. Predictably, the man broke from his stare and faced Mido. His face bore the look of a middle-aged man: both the hair from his head and his boxed beard were greyed out. He had a stern look at first, but his expression soon changed into a smile.
“Oh, hey! Glad to see you’re awake! Please, make yourself comfortable, sit! I’ll bring you some pick-me-up.” He hastily walked to the counter, grabbing his shirt along the way. Mido, albeit stunned at the sudden change of mood, did what he was asked to do and sat comfortably in the sofa. He looked around. Shelves were lined with boxes containing gems of all shapes, colors, and sizes. If anything, this man could be mistaken for a truly proud jeweler or collector, with the way he flaunts them around his room. Minutes later, the man sat in front of him, and presented a steamy cup of tea. Mido drank it as it was still hot.
He ducked his head so as to not spill the liquid. He remembered this particular man, back at their vehicle. He was the driver and was called ‘Gris’ by the others.
“Tell me, is my room alright?”
Mido was hesitant, but the man’s friendly tone was too inviting.
“…Yeah, it is.”
Gris laughed, much to the surprise of Mido.
“Nice! Good to hear my sleeping in the sofa wasn’t in vain.” He chuckled.
“You didn’t have to go that far sir! But still… Thank you for letting me in.” Thanked Mido.
“Nah, don’t mention it. Those boys didn’t have the time nor the liberty to accommodate you. Well, all will be okay when you and Fein finish your formal application. You’ll have your own room!”
“Application?” Mido questioned. “How would that work?”
“Well, basically honored and official ‘appraisers’ grant their permission to join a Vassal-exclusive group in this organization. They are scattered all over the place, but I believe Fein had taken note of one, even before you agreed to join.”
“Appraisers?”
“They are Vassals capable of seeing another Vassal’s tonal alignment and affinity. I believe there are four of them… But no problems, all it takes is for you to display your ability against them, and they’ll take care of everything.”
Hearing Gris’ words, Mido felt a bit down. He still does not believe he is a Vassal, despite resisting Enna’s ability.
“Sir. I’m not a Vassal, though.”
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Sure, the town of Mido was full of Vassals, which probably exposed him to the concept in the first place (his memories were still hazy, but he retained some general information), but he was not born one. He learned stories that some people acquired abilities during the course of their lives, which, unavoidably at this point, made him think he was of such case. His disbelief overwhelmingly favors against his ideas, however. All of this paranoia made him realize he drank more than half of the tea in a single down.
“We can’t say for sure. Even I am doubting that possibility, but the fact that only you survived that tragedy makes you something. You had the will to live, even when they destroyed everything you know. Such determination is bound to manifest to a Vassal. Your tones mirror your will, you know.”
“My… tones?”
“A part of you that is tied to the world. Everything is part of it, and them part of you. All people have tones, but its true form only manifests in a handful of them. Our powers are handed down to us because the world acknowledged our will. Yet it is not truly ours. So, in a way, abilities are borrowed, not owned. In order to acquire it, we give something in return. Hence, Vassals.”
Gris was handing him out information that he barely understood, but at the same times, Mido felt at most familiar with its concept.
“It is likely that the tones manifested when you latched onto that ‘hatred’ Enna described. But it made you live another life. That alone is a blessing, don’t you think?”
Mido lightly scoffed. “No. It’s because she made me live.”
“Wiz? Hmm, she’s our ‘healer’ and an Anzach priestess, so it’s all in her nature to help you. But I was really amused when in the blink of an eye, she used a part of her life force just to heal you.”
Mido was shocked. He realized she’s a priestess, but that was not the cause of his startled reaction. What caught him in his throat was that she used her ability to such extent, just to save him.
“Why would she do that to me, a man he did not even know?”
Gris chuckled, and visibly stretched a bit before leaning back down.
“No one knows. Anzach priests are naturally fond of life. Our princess is no exception. But listen. Do not let her risk be in vain, Mido. If she wants to go with you, let her be. She has gone far too much in her life, longing for someone to look up to. I’m sure you don’t trust much of us yet, but I’ll tell you this: she might be a shy, timid girl, but Wizbette never strays from her faith.”
Mido was slightly pressured. Gris was actually indicating something, but he cannot grasp the concept of it just yet. However, one fact is true: Wiz saved him, so his life is in her debt. Such is the exchange of life.
“I’ll do what I can. I have to repay her, somehow.” He was serious.
“Then take it up the ass and join D-7, kiddo!” Gris laughed and lightened up the mood.
“Well, fix yourself! I trust that you know how to take a bath?” He jested. Mido laughed in reply.
“Oh! And by the way!” He brandished a box to the table. When he opened the case, it was a two-part amulet. A spherical container with intricate runes around it covered another piece in the center. It was a medallion. An image of an old phoenix clutching a topaz gem seated on it. One deep look, and you would notice it was polished into mint condition just recently.
However, visible scratches and traces of restoration to the details can be seen. This amulet must have gone through some struggle.
“I did my best to iron out much of the wear and tear, but it’s still good-looking!”
“What is this?” Mido asked, admiring the medallion.
“From your late town. Fein gave this to me as a memento, but I figured it would be best to fall to its fellow resident. Take it. It’s yours.” Gris smiled, and so did Mido. Finally, a piece of his home came to him. He clutched the medallion into his hands and set it aside.
“Thank you, Sir Gris.”
“Hah! Don’t mention it. And it is Gris ONLY, kid!”
“But you’re my senior—”
“Hahaha! Don’t make me remember my age!” He laughed.
“Ah, and suit up! The captain’s asking for you. Don’t worry, I’ll guide you through this city.” Gris dismissed.
Mido actually felt a relief from Gris’ vibe. For a seemingly built and wise man like him, he is sure jolly with his life.
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Mido wore a casual beige button-up long-sleeved shirt, brown pants and a belt that hanged a bit on his waist. Surprisingly enough, the outfit fit perfectly on him. Gris informed him that it was Wiz who hurriedly bought these apparels last night. To actually guess the right fit for his body was outstandingly clever of her.
“You see, she also bought a beret that paired with the color of your pants. Hahaha! That would just be a costume!” Gris told Mido as they walk towards the stairs and into the lobby.
‘Costume? Is she planning to dress me as a detective?’ Mido thought.
The lobby was busy as usual. People walking through aisles and doors, the desk was chock full of appointments, and the air was mixed with different scents wafting by their noses. As both of them descended the flight of stairs, they were suddenly faced by their destination man.
“Captain, Good morning! Say, how was the report yesterday? You quickly went to sleep without a discussion.” Said Gris.
“We’ll have to talk about that as a group… at a later time.” Fein replied. He then looked at Mido and his outfit.
“You look like you’re too committed to the job, aren’t you, Mido? What you wear says it out loud.”
Mido chuckled silently. “Blame it on the girl…”
“Wizbette? I have to say, she’s been getting more active, don’t you agree, Gris?” The man just nodded.
“Well then, I have freed my time, and we have business to do. Shall we head on?” Both parties agreed. As they exited the building, they were bathed by the light stream of the sun. Almost all of Henwales catch the sun’s rays from morning to afternoon. Because of this, the temperature above the city remains mostly at a balance. It was an exhilarating feeling for Mido, walking through the bustling city filled with different faces, clothing, and manner of walking. As he was indirectly exposed to this environment, Mido slowly came to realize that there were more places the world offers him than just a valley. Little by little, he will accept this reality, and make it so that he adapts to the new world as a new man.
There was much walking, and little to remember, but he took it to heart when he saw the plaza. The wisteria tree at day grasped the full light of the sun and in turn, emphasized its vibrant colors more than ever. In truth, this place was the only area he vividly remembers, flustering at the thought.
Much trudging of the legs persisted…
…
…
“Well, we are here…” Fein announced.
“Shit… Is this a monastery, Fein? Is this Watcher Enzo’s?!” Gris asked, rasping from exhaustion.
“The air is thin here… It’s weird…” Mido commented, all the while breathing deeply in and out.
“Sorry. He is the only available appraiser I had in contact with at the moment.” He apologized.
The place was in a higher point in the mountain. There were small cottages around, usually used by pilgrims who pass by or live there. Ripples of clouds were constantly gathering, blocking the view of the landscape below. The sun shone vibrantly, and they had yet to step between one of the archways that lead to the monastery.
“Come. Let’s try to find him.”
“I’m sorry. ‘try to find him’?” Mido was utterly confused. Gris answered his question.
“Papa Enzo is feisty when it comes to visitors. So, you need to lure him into talking-- Wait… Fein!” Gris unintentionally yelled.
“Shh! Be silent. What is it?”
“You brought it, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, it’s in here.”
Their whispering only served to fuel Mido’s confusion. They soon came to realize this and filled him in on the discussion.
“Do you know what Watcher Enzo wants every visit?”
“Lavender perfume and cheese.”
“Yes, you heard that right.”
“Cheese.” Both of them intentionally emphasized that word.
‘What about the lavender perfume, though?’ Mido thought to himself. Facing with somewhat enthusiastic patrons, they only put up a smile and a nod for him.
“Okay. Let’s set the bait and wait for him.” Gris said as they calmly walked to the monastery entrance.
‘Set the bait…’
Are they here for the appraisal, or are they hunting a prey?