White light briefly inundated the boy’s vision, receding only when warm air caressed Gaius’ skin. The surroundings had changed. Gaius was seated in a chair, luxuriously soft and smooth to the touch. In front of him was a round, mahogany table, one so large that twelve other people were able to share it.
Gaius narrowed his eyes. These are the other Constellations. And within their ranks…one of them should be Nox, the Last Star. If they’re all assembled here, this memory must have taken place before or during the opening stages of the Second Extermination, at least ten years ago?
He couldn’t tell who was who, but that didn’t really matter anyway. Records about the Constellations’ appearance were sparse, and the boy hadn’t had the time to find out about them anyway. More importantly, even in this memory of Scorpio’s, the faces of the others around the table had been blurred, masked with a lingering power. Gaius didn’t know why these people took such actions, but it was probably a hint regarding their interpersonal relationships.
“The preparations are nearly complete,” said one of the Constellations. “Our forces stand ready to strike. The beastfolk are, as always, playing politics in their little kennels. We have a perfect opportunity to carry out His will.”
“Like the rest of you have been doing that perfectly,” said another Constellation. “How many of you have a perfect mission record? It’s been only a few years, and most of you already failed some of your quests.”
“Shut up, Gemini.” A masked figure gestured. “These quests are but side plots in the face of our main storyline. That’s where we should place our attention on. Nothing can be more important than the world.”
“Yes,” said another. “The fate of the world rests in our hands. We must begin the Second Extermination before it’s too late.”
“Necessary sacrifices.” Scorpio, whose body Gaius was occupying, spoke quietly. “I still can’t shake this feeling of…wrong-ness, though. And yet…”
“Those with power must bear the greatest sins,” said another Constellation. “Scorpio, you know that better than we do, right? After all…”
The world shook slightly, and Scorpio kneaded his temples for a few moments. “Enough. The more we spend time in this pointless gathering, the more it sounds like we’re trying to justify our actions in the years to come. We don’t need that. We’re the saviours of Orb, its messiahs.”
That was an incredibly odd change in attitude, I’d say. For Scorpio to suddenly turn all brusque like that…Gaius shook his head inwardly. The man seemed like a berry short of a bunch, but the fact that no one else had picked up on that moment of incongruity was equally strange. Let’s watch on for now.
“We’re just the agents of His will,” said another Constellation. “Do not forget what He told us when we were summoned. Anything that we do, or we cause, cannot be our fault. This is our game.”
The others fell silent. Gaius, meanwhile, was on the verge of spewing expletives. The boy had the feeling that if he was able to show his facial expression right now, it would be incredulity, horror and fear rolled together. Such a statement was pretty much a carte blanche for these people here to do whatever they want, without any fear of consequences, as long as they adhered to the ultimate goal of the Human God.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
And the fact that no one had bothered to refute this statement was, in and of itself, disturbing. It was as though as the other Constellations had agreed with that particular statement…no, the fact that it had been used to end an argument in the making hinted at how nearly absolute such a statement was for the Constellations. As that thought flashed through his mind, the assembled Constellations began to stand up.
The meeting was over. The surroundings began to fade. From there on, the memories that followed were…for the lack of a better word, overlapping. Memories of the battlefield were superimposed on each other. All Gaius could see was killing and fighting, and when a city fell, the ensuing mass murder. Scorpio didn’t take part in the last bit, but Gaius still felt that his — and the presence of the other Constellations — were enablers in the whole thing.
Abruptly, the superimposed memories began to end, and with an absolute clarity, Scorpio was once again looking down on yet another city. Someone, one of his number, had breached the gates. With the city’s defenders now gone, men began to rush in, like rabid dogs eager to feast.
A Constellation was among them.
As that Constellation approached a still-untouched house, an old man rushed out of it and knelt before him. Gaius didn’t need to hear the old man to know what he was asking for, but to his horror, the old man had slit his throat in front of that Constellation. His dying corpse fell onto the ground, and the man he was pleading for mercy from took a step back, and another.
Nausea coursed through Gaius, but it wasn’t his. Scorpio had started to retch, and he turned away immediately. The red tint that had clouded his vision faded somewhat, and it was then that the boy realised that he had viewed the memories of the Second Extermination through a red haze.
The surroundings began to fade once again. This time, Constellation Scorpio was no longer in a battlefield. Instead, he was kneeling in front of an incredible, formless might. The only thing Gaius could see was that of the ground, which was interlaced with exquisite, incredible designs. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a whirling mass of golden clouds surrounding what felt like an open hall to him.
This time, Gaius couldn’t hear anything. Darkness was beginning to encroach on the edges of his vision, even as Scorpio raised his right arm and looked at it. A faint, gold light was gathering around it, and in that instant, he realised that the memory that Gaius had dived into was something that was sealed off by the Human God.
With a jolt, he realised that the darkness eating into his vision had occupied more than half of it. The surroundings began to shatter, breaking like glass and falling apart. Before the destruction could reach where Gaius was standing, however, something had hauled him up, and in the next instant, he was kneeling inside the room once again.
“That memory…” Nexus was the first one to break the silence. “There was a trap laid within. Anyone who accessed it would have their consciousness destroyed when it crumbled away. It was lucky I was here, Master Gaius.”
“It was a trap…but it was one that was designed to kill Scorpio, not me,” said Gaius. “The Human God was the one who sealed this memory away. It included a great deal of Scorpio’s involvement in the war, specifically his emotional take to it.”
Nexus was silent for a moment. “Anren…perhaps, he was trying to shape his weapons. Polish it. And remove the unnecessary baggage.”
“Weapons…” Gaius shook his head. “Just what was the Human God afraid of?”
“Wish I knew, too.”