The most important thing for a Jaeger family, whether they be called a house, clan, or tribe, are their traditions. Values, rituals, hunting techniques, and core tenets are all important traditions that must be preserved in history. We have seen many once powerful families die out suddenly over the course of a few years. In my opinion, other than extinction from creatures of the Night, the second biggest reason a family dies out is that of other families overstepping their reach. They would overstep by claiming land, stealing the weapons of history, and secrets the family has. Historians don’t have all the answers of who killed who and stole what, as it seems those sections of history were scrubbed away by the winners of these mini family wars. If a family is slowly dying to its extinction, I think that the best course of action is to find protection under a bigger house. There is the risk of losing one’s identity and traditions as they assimilate themselves into the new family. But there is some merit to the idea of joining another house. The Hathaways have successfully preserved their clan and the future generations yet to come. We have seen that the Hathaway clan is considered equal to House Illum and has still kept their identity. As a historian and lover of history, if there is one thing you can take away from these texts, do everything you can to preserve your traditions as hunting houses, clans, or tribes.
* Except from “Historical Texts of Jaeger Families” by Yennefer J. Spielz, self-acclaimed historian extraordinaire.
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Five minutes were left before the hunt began. The final total of Jaegers that will enter the cavern and face off against the Raksha were 85 from the original hundred or so that gathered. The ones that decided to stay behind will act as the final defense if the vanguard falls. The brave 85 mostly composed of the newer generation, the ones considered being weaker than the previous ones.
Of the house representatives, Chieftain Oshi volunteered to lead the vanguard into the cavern. For that reason, he was labeled as the lead Jaeger for this hunt. Elder Hollowfield was prepared to join the fray and even brought his trusty hammer and shield. But the veterans of House Hollowfield started to hold him down.
“LET GO OF ME. I WILL FIGHT FOR AIOLIA!” Elder yelled as they tied him to a chair.
“Please stay here, Elder Jeremiah, and leave everything to us,” the 50-year-old veteran said. He tightened the ropes three times and then placed an ather seal into the ropes to strengthen the hold.
“You blasted brats! You are all going to your deaths! You shouldn’t die before me. YOU CAN’T DIE BEFORE ME!” The elder started to cry as he saw his faction, nephews, nieces, and adopted Jaegers that embodied the codes of House Hollowfield walk away. “I have to die first you hooligans. What’s waiting for you is something worse than death if you die.” He mumbled those out in between sobs.
The veterans of House Hollowfield bowed to Lord Zill. “I will look after your elder. Go with peace of mind and strike true against the Night.” The veterans held their bow and thanked Lord Zill once again.
His son, William, was opposed to his father joining this hunt from the beginning. He had tried to persuade his father to stay back in their homeland, and that he would be the house representative of the Zills. But Lord Zill refused. And like Elder Hollowfield, he strongly felt that he should be on this decisive hunt. They were able to find a compromise. William will enter the hunt with the vanguard, representing his father, and Lord Zill will be on standby in the defensive line.
Lady Bulwark had no one to stop her and was entering the battle regardless. So, she stood ready with the members of her house, waiting for Oshi to give the signal. Lord Ashsong was also staying behind, but he was going to be closer to the cavern with a small group of Jaegers. He believed this to be the best course of action in case the vanguard failed or Raksha started to flee out of the cavern. If the vanguard were wiped out, they would act as sentinels, the first line of defense. Bartz stood near the Prof., watching the group of Jaegers that stood on standby.
Some of them were fidgeting and checking their weapons and items. Others were pacing back and forth. He found Cecil in the crowd, his deep expression of seriousness overwriting the warm smile he had when he first came to the camp. It’s the real face of a member of House Illum. Bartz thought as he instinctively reached into his satchel and started to rub his family’s bracelet in his hands.
Standing near Cecil was another Jaeger, possibly from House Wu-hime. He was too far for Bartz to see or tell. The man held two daggers with one in each hand. Bartz could see how nervous the man was as he twisted and twirled the daggers in his hands. He dropped one of the weapons and his vacant hand started to tremble as he stared at the fallen dagger.
“Have you ever seen that before?” Chieftain Oshi asked. He had appeared beside Bartz while he was lost in thought. During the meeting, Oshi had his long dreadlocks flowing freely. Now, he had them tied together by a ceremonial dragon spear hair clip.
“He looks to be affected by a case of hunter’s heartbreak,” Bartz replied with indifference. It’s trauma from previous hunts that attacks one’s psyche and causes great stress and anxiety. If not resolved, that would lead to the complete end of one’s Jaeger career. What did that Jaeger go through to get to this point? Did he survive against the unspeakable evil of the Night? Did he see his loved ones and fellow Jaegers die one by one? Or was he tortured by the Night before being saved?
Either way, that Jaeger was filled with true dread and despair and shouldn’t have taken this hunt to begin with.
“Excellent answer Bartholomew.” The chieftain gave Bartz a genuine smile. Why couldn’t he have just forgotten my name like I prayed? “I felt like I heard your name before. It just occurred to me. You are one of Lord Blaive’s pupils, no?”
Bartz turned towards the chieftain with his eyes wide. “You know my uncle Blaive? Have you seen him lately?” Bartz moved closer to Oshi with excitement in his voice. Blaive was the current Aegis Bastion, the shield of Lumencia. He, like most members of the house, was blessed by the First and inherited holy ather.
Many in and outside the family would consider him to be the weakest of all the current bastions. Bartz knew differently though, Blaive was strong. He just focused on defensive skills and shielding skills in battle. But for some reason, even Blaive himself would say that he was the weakest of the 12.
Blaive is currently training three of Sigurd’s children: Bartz, Quess, and Damian. He was in the process of training these three to pass on his title of bastion soon. We already know how Bartz is and how he is seen as a coward, so he isn’t in contention for the title. It’s not like he even wants it anyway. Damian, the youngest of the three, inherited one of the legendary athers of the elemental wheel, the dark ather of umbra.
Umbra was the opposite of holy on the elemental wheel and, like Cecil’s eyes, was seen as a bad omen for House Illum. Umbra inheritors were very rare, but the few that existed were kept hidden away in Lumencia as many Jaegers and scholars believe that only creatures of the Night use umbra ather.
Blaive took Damian under his wing as soon as he was confirmed to be an umbra user, and many who were physically there when it happened saw a small twinkle in Blaive’s eyes. No one expects Damian to gain a position of bastion, and there are some elders who are blocking him from allowing him his Illum Rite. Blaive himself was chastised for even taking the boy as a student.
That’s right, Bartz remembered hearing about the plans to block Damian from being a Jaeger and stopping his rite. He was always a quiet and shy boy because of his status as an umbra user. The old generation blows man. Bartz thought as he remembered another of his siblings being denied something he was given. It made him feel sick and disgusted with himself.
Quess is Blaive’s star pupil. She is one of the rare few individuals of House Illum who inherited wood ather. The only other element a member of House Illum has never produced in its history is that of water. Quess is the best shield user next to Blaive and looks to be the prime candidate to inherit the Aegis Bastion title.
The chieftain laughed. “Know him? He is helping me and my clan. Clan Roland is currently going through a tough time. Our land has stopped producing natural resources. The other tribes are plotting to not only take my land but also planning to take away the guardian beasts that have pledged their loyalty to Clan Roland. While I may be a great warrior and Jaeger, I have lost favor with some of my members and the civilians we have vowed to protect. Before I was sent to this hunt, a huge conflict occurred. Heading here has probably soured my reputation with my clan even more.”
Bartz absorbed the chieftain’s words and then came to a surprisingly fast conclusion. “That’s the secret mission he’s been on for the past few years. If he’s been gone that long helping you, that must mean you want to assimilate into our house like the Hathaways did.”
The chieftain let out another boisterous laugh. “He did say you were a bright kid, although he never said anything about you being a coward like everyone else here has. If anything, he just said you were lazy and unmotivated to do anything.”
That darn scruffy old man, ruining my image! Only I’m allowed to ruin my image. Bartz pouted. “Makes sense that it’s a secret. I don’t think the elders and other leaders would want to add another clan into our house.”
“Only time will tell. After this hunt once I take care of business back home, me and Blaive will be heading to Lumencia to plead for this union. Hopefully, the three years he had lived and hunted with us would be sufficient for the elders to consider Clan Roland. You know…He got married.”
“WHAT?!” Bartz yelled. During the last three years, he still kept in brief contact with his uncle to get short training sessions here and there…mostly against his will. Not once did he ever say he was married. They used sightstones to communicate with one another, very expensive glass shards attuned with ather. Using a sightstone, you could see the other person you are speaking with. Nothing about the background location Blaive was in told Bartz anything about the general area. Every time his master called, he was by himself. There were no noises heard or people walking behind him.
“He married one of my half-dragoon relatives. They have a daughter who is about two years old I believe.”
“WHAT?!!?” Bartz yelled again. “That scruffy little…How can you keep your family out of the loop with something as important as that? Whatever, I don’t care about that no good sorry excuse of an uncle. HMPH.” Bartz looked away upset. But even as mad as he was, he felt happy for his uncle.
“He has his reasons. He actually wanted to come with me, but I needed him to stay and be with my clan and deal with the situation that occurred. I am here to protect his family, my family, and all of Aiolia.”
“Even if it costs you your life?” Bartz asked. “Even if it meant that you would be leaving your family behind?”
The chieftain gave a serious expression, one only a Jaeger and a father with convection could give. “I would always give my life if it meant that my daughter could live hers for even just another second longer. A Jaeger protects what they love till their last breath.”
“And protects the coin he takes from those he saves,” Bartz said sarcastically. It was a famous line detractors would say after Jaegers or their allies would say the protects what they love mantra.
Oshi laughed boisterously again. “Yes, some of us are very greedy. There is some truth to that humorous retort. But…I will protect the people I love. And if I somehow do die, my death will not be in vain.”
Bartz gazed hard at the chieftain’s serious expression and response. “My death will be the reason we win.”
This man is amazing, just like my father and the other members of my house who are real Jaegers. Unlike me.
“Well, I just wanted to see if you were the student that brother Blaive spoke about. I know you’re staying behind for this hunt and wish you luck in our defense if we fail. Your position is just as important as the vanguards.”
Bartz had decided to stay at camp. When he told the representatives and Jaegers, he felt their anger, the looks of disappointment, and their look of pity to the boy. Of course, the Chieftain didn’t give him that look. He gave him a look of understanding. He was already used to those negative looks either way. Bartz didn’t care that he was born with ather. He didn’t care that he was born into this family. He didn’t care about the vow his ancestor made. He didn’t care about his Jaeger studies or training. He could barely hold a sword, and his master forced him to at least to learn how to create ather shields and domes…But he did care about what Blaive thought about him, he cared about how his closest family members thought of him like his siblings, Uncle Higs, Cecil and his father, Sigurd.
All of these thoughts, all of these excuses cemented the seed of doubt in his mind that he was letting everyone down for being the way he was. That’s the one thing he cared about. He cared about the people in his family that loved him.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Bartz knew deep down his mentality was wrong, but he just didn’t want to risk his life in this lifestyle, so he held back his ather. He put a facade of cowardice on and he ran away from all his responsibilities.
“I’m just a coward,” Bartz whispered out, “I’m only staying back because I have a better chance at staying alive and because I don’t want to be a Jaeger.” He looked down and pulled the brim of his cap to cover his face from Oshi’s gaze.
The chieftain cocked his head at Bartz with a puzzled look, and then he shrugged his shoulders and chuckled lightly at the boy. “You are definitely Blaive’s student. Every time he says he’s weak or the weakest bastion, he has this air of a facade around him like you do.”
Bartz moved to view the chieftain again, but he was already walking away. “What do you mean like I do?” he shouted, a bit annoyed. He kept walking away, not turning back to Bartz as the chieftain answered curtly. “I’m saying you and him are liars. Of course, he lies with a joking tone and a smile on his face.”
The chieftain saw through Bartz and that only left Bartz feeling guiltier about this whole situation. I’m not just lying, I know I don’t have the desire to face the Night like Cecil, Marcus, or Blaive.
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
Cecil’s words rang in his head, and Bartz squeezed the bracelet in his hand once again. He was holding on to it during the entire conversion with the chieftain. It was easier to give up if he believed he was a coward, if that was how others perceive him to be. With that perception, he could live a peaceful life away from the dangerous world and responsibilities of a Jaeger.
“I just believe in you. Take the first step.”
For a split second, Bartz thought about the Night. Was he truly a member of House Illum? Where was his hatred for this evil? Where was his brave heart like the one Cecil has, who looked after the members of his family and wanted to be a beacon of hope for the rejects of his house?
Bartz squeezed the bracelet even tighter. What right did he have to stay behind when it should be that Jaeger he saw standing next to Cecil? It should be him standing next to his cousin. A small part of his mind whispered to him. Go and tell the man to stay and take his place. But he quickly shook his head. No, that’s not me. This life isn’t for me. Bartz truly believed that his family was given the wrong son, that the gods had messed up in giving his father someone like him as a son.
That pressure of living up to the First, to living up to his father Sigurd, Blaive, and the many other heroes of his house was just too much for someone who had no desire to be a hero, no desire to save anyone, and no desire to vanquish the Night. Standing there, he realized just how selfish he was, just how much of a bad sibling and son he was. Maybe if this wasn’t a cataclysmic event, maybe if a bastion like his older half-brother Marcus was already here, his mental state would be different and it would allow himself to actually try and complete his Illum Rite.
Who am I to feel this way when Damien dreams of being a bastion is refused, where his own rite is refused? Who am I to be this selfish, to be born with so much ather yet rebuke what I was given? Who am I to be selfish when I know how this world treats rejects like Kai and my other siblings who are denied their own bracelets and rites?
All of this was just too much for someone like Bartz to bear. He let go of the bracelet and fell to the dirt road of the campsite. He began to cradle his satchel, the one his father passed down to him and started to sob quietly. “I’m sorry Uncle Blaive. I’m sorry, father. I’m sorry I’m like this. I’m sorry you had to have a son like me. I’m sorry.” He whispered sorry over and over. At the end of the world, Bartz mentality broke a second time.
The pressure of being in House Illum, of wanting to live a peaceful life and escaping the responsibilities chosen for him, was too strong for the youth to handle. He knew deep down what he was feeling and doing wasn’t fair to the family that he loved and loved him back.
///
Cecil had spent the last five minutes doing his stretches. Stretching was like his pre-hunt ritual, one that he did with his father before every hunt. He had seen Bartz fall to the ground and weep into his satchel. He felt a burning feeling in his chest and turned to face the entrance of the cavern in the distance.
“I will destroy you,” he declared, “I will protect Bartz and this world.”
The Jaeger next to him saw the younger man’s expression and heard his declaration. He wanted to be a Jaeger to try and gain glory and honor. He started this journey with four of his childhood friends and watched as each of them died painful deaths at the hands of the Night. The images of watching his loved ones die horribly in front of him didn’t give him strength. He didn’t have the same desire or passion that the young man next to him has to succeed in this hunt.
He stared at his own hands, which held twin daggers, and reflected on his life, realizing that he would die immediately. He realized that the sacrifices his friends had made to save him would be wasted. So, he sheathed his daggers and walked towards the defensive line.
I would just get in the way of that white-haired kid, he thought. He was trembling greatly as he reached where the defenders of the camp were. I don’t want to die yet. William Zill sighed. “The hunter’s heartbreak takes another one.” He stood near the house representatives on a wooden platform.
“It is better for those unfit to fight to remain behind,” Chieftain Oshi replied. Dragoon women of various skin colors appeared beside him and had begun to place dragoon-inspired armor on to him. It was the traditional dragoon steel armor crafted over ather-powered flames. His armor was tinted orange, the colors of his clan.
Another dragoon, this time a male, held the chieftain’s odachi katana. It was as long as the length of a traditional Aiolian greatsword. The male dragoon handed the katana to Oshi once the women were finished applying his armor, which he strapped onto his back.
“I rather we all fight. We are already low on Jaeger power as it is. We should all attack directly, no sentinel or defensive lines are needed.” Lady Bulwark was behind the young Zill and the Chieftain. She was applying her war paint and was borrowing one of the dragoon women to assist her by holding up a small mirror.
“The Night has grown far stronger than previous generations. Right now, somewhere else in Aiolia, there could be another cataclysmic event or hunt going on that we don’t know about,” Lord Zill replied with a seriously deadpan expression on his face.
“Yes…this is all we can give to fight this section of the Night. So, we must make do and do our best to succeed.” The others nodded at Chieftain Oshi’s final remark to them.
Lady Bulwark completed her war paint. She then took the mirror from the dragoon women named Ume and handed her the brush and paint. Lady Bulwark took off her gauntlets and placed both of her palms in front of Ume. “Like I showed you girlie, do not make a mistake drawing the sigils.”
Ume nodded and began to paint the palms of Lady Bulwark. “Are you su–” Lady Bulwark quickly shushed Lord Zill and gave him a side eye. “I already told you all. Do not stop me, this is what House Bulwark suffered, what House Bulwark has trained to counteract. Even If I die, I know that my sacrifice will turn the tide of battle. As a Bulwark, I know it in my heart and I vow it.”
She looked away and closed her eyes, losing herself in prayer as Ume quickly but carefully applied the paint. William whispered to his father. “This is what her house dedicated their lives to pa. We all have our own plans and battle styles after all.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t disagree with what she is going to do. Speaking of plans, are your men ready?” Lord Zill whispered back. William nodded, “I have three terra Jaegers that will enter with me and four Jaegers will carry the cylinder tubs on their backs. Once I give the signal, they will start our battle plan.”
“Did you warn the flame users?” Lord Zill asked.
“Yes pa, I personally went to every Jaeger and explained my battle strategy. If we are lucky, the cavern may have groundwater hidden underneath.”
“If we are lucky.” Lord Zill motioned for his son to kneel before him. “Son, may the drum of fortune roar in our souls.” Lord Zill moved his right hand into a Z shape and then kissed the fingertips of his index finger and middle finger.
“And let our souls roar out towards our enemies,” William replied. He was on one knee and with eyes closed as his father placed the two fingers he kissed on William’s forehead. “We are ready, Chieftain Oshi.”
“So am I.” Lady Bulwark bowed to Ume who, after finishing painting Lady Bulwark’s palms, helped the knight put her gauntlets back on.
The Chieftain nodded and then walked closer towards the crowd, clapping his hands together to gather the attention of all the Jaegers. The sound of the clap was loud and strong, echoing throughout the camp.
Everyone gave their undivided attention to the Roland clan leader. “There will be no lies here. We are going to our deaths. But that comes with the job of being a Jaeger. We either succeed here or we fail and let the world plummet into darkness.”
The crowd was unflinching. The ones who chose the vanguard position understood the situation and the sacrifice that they were expected to make.
“The situation has also changed.” The air around the crowd had started to change. “Brother Cecil came to us with new information. The Wolf Bastion is on his way here.”
The whole camp started to feel a new flame ignite their hopes. An elf Jaeger, who was a fresh recruit, whispered out, “What the hell is a Wolf Bastion?”
“You idiot, didn’t you study the other houses?” A dragoon Jaeger retorted as she slapped the back of the elf’s head. “That’s the title given to the current strongest bloodline member of House Illum. The current Wolf is Sigurd’s firstborn son, Marcus. The only people here that can reach his level are Lord Zill, his son William, Lady Bulwark, and the chieftain.”
“And even then,” a crowku Jaeger behind them interjected, “Marcus is rumored to be stronger than all of them combined on their best days.”
“You cretin, the chief’s clan is closely tied with the seven. He is stronger than some wolf pup. I should cut you down for the disrespect you have given my lord,” a member of Clan Roland snapped out. Another Jaeger beside him grabbed his arm to quell his rage.
“I heard that wolf pup has the ather of two people in him, that his level of ather radiates so strongly you can feel it miles and miles away,” another Jaeger added.
“He’s also amazing to look at,” a Jaeger with pigtails said. The others around her gave a disapproving look as if to say that what the pigtails Jaeger said doesn’t matter in this conversation. A male elf Jaeger nodded in agreement at the comment his comrade with the pigtails made.
Bartz heard the rumors and whispers the crowd of Jaegers had about his older brother. They weren’t wrong necessarily, Marcus was incredible. At the young age of six, he insisted on going on his Illum Rite and has since been an unstoppable force in House Illum. He was the youngest Illum to ever complete his rite. He was the youngest Illum to inherit the title of bastion. And it’s not just any title, it’s that of the Wolf, the strongest. And he wields Wolf’s Reign, one of the First Illum’s legendary treasured weapons. Well…it’s more like he borrowed (stole) it from his father (the rightful user) and always used it to vanquish evil.
Marcus was always in high demand, doing all of the toughest hunts available. A hunt like this one, for example, would be something Marcos will be required to partake in. He just needed to get here.
The chieftain cleared his throat loudly to stop all the chatter that the Wolf Bastion’s name had caused. “Our hunt is clear. Defeat the Raksha, stop whatever it is they are doing, and save the captured Lord’s daughter.”
“And what about Lady Harriet?” a Jaeger asked, looking dejected.
“She cannot be saved. So if she gets in our way, we must kill her as well. Me, William, brother Cecil, or Lady Bulwark will face her if she enters the battlefield. I forbid anyone else other than me and those three from engaging with her,” Chieftain Oshi commanded.
The crowd in response gave a “Sir yes sir.”
“We must do everything in our power to stop the Raksha and Harriet. Give everything you can to complete this hunt or wither down our enemy. If you die, die taking Raksha with you or gravely wounding them. Die stopping their plans so that once Marcus arrives, he can swiftly take down the ones we have weakened.”
The Chieftain placed his closed fist against his heart. “Think of the people we love, the ones we vowed to protect. We came here as different members of different houses and factions of different species and different skin colors. But all that crap doesn’t matter right now. We are all Jaegers of Aiolia, and we are going to fight to protect our homeland.”
The crowd roared as the hunting horn was blown. The 80 or so Jaegers started to march towards their doom. Cecil jogged towards Chieftain Oshi who had gotten on one knee to pray to his dragoon god Bahamut. “Riveting speech, Chief,” Cecil said with a smile and wink, “I really like that last part. I wonder where you came up with those lines.” Cecil nudged the Chieftain playfully with his elbow.
“That speech helped me and my men back during the Gauda hunt. I may have borrowed it from you, but we need all the encouragement we can get.” Oshi smiled as fragments of the Gauda hunt flashed in his mind. The boy with white hair who risked his life to save him and his men from being trapped under the seismic power of the Gauda beast.
“Cecil, don’t die. It’s not your time yet,” Oshi said with a serious tone as the two began to walk towards the cavern.
“I never wrote a will yet, so I can’t die anyway. What about you? Have you lived a long and fulfilling life for this hunt to be your grave?” Cecil asked with a grin as the two’s walk turned into a jog.
“If it means that my clan and my daughter can live another day, then so be it. I would gladly lay my life on the line. After this hunt, come with me to my homeland so I can properly introduce you to my little girl,” Oshi replied with his own grin.
“Yeah, I like the sound of that. So, make sure you don’t die either Chief!” Cecil grinned and was the first to sprint ahead between the two. Oshi followed suit and started his own full on sprint towards the cavern. The two Jaegers looked like they were racing each other as they passed a few Jaegers who already had a head start.
///
Bartz had broken from his depressive breakdown and entered the main tent. All of the vanguard Jaegers had just finished leaving the camp. He wanted to speak to his uncle, Prof. Higginbottom about what he could do to help out around here. Maybe he and the scholars could continue to figure something out to release Harriet from her possession.
As he lifted the flap of the tent, the Prof. was furiously moving around in front of their sightscreen. The sightscreen was a bigger version of a sightstone, which is usually a portable communication device that fit in a person’s hand. Instead of a person appearing on the screen, there was an ungodly loud buzzing noise and static that covered the entire sightscreen.
“Uncle Higs, is the screen on the fitz aga–” before Bartz could even finish, the Prof. pulled two glass like antennas from the top of the sightscreen. These antennas were connected to the screen with long ather-dipped wires. The Prof. placed the antennas into Bartz’s hands. “Quickly, move these darn things around!” the Prof. said with urgency. Bartz moved his whole body, raising his arms as high as he could. “What’s going on Higs? Who’s trying to reach us?”
Eventually, the screen started to focus in. He just needed to hold his left hand as far up as he could and his right hand to his side. He was also on one leg. Oddly, it worked. He felt like a clock with the way his hands were positioned. The static fuzz persisted. But in between fuzzes, the silhouette of a man appeared. The sound that came out of the sightscreen was louder, and then the buzzing slowly went away.
“He– Un–c– Higs– Bar–z.” The silhouette’s voice was barely audible with the noise coming out of the screen. Bartz jumped on top of the war table and moved his body around until the screen and sound cleared itself as best as it could. He was still on one leg, balancing himself as he extended his arms in opposite directions, allowing the silhouette’s image to finally take shape.
It was very windy. And for some reason, there was sand blowing all around Marcus. He was barely visible, but they immediately were able to see the dark eyepatch that covered his face.
“Marcus!” Bartz shouted in surprise, causing himself to move slightly and lose the signal briefly.
“Ack, MOVE IT BACK BARTHOLOMEW!” Prof. Higginbottom screamed as he leapt near the war table and started to grab Bartz’s arms, moving them wildly to try to get Marcus’s face back on the screen.
“I-m–on–the way. But t– air–ship I’m in is in a– crazy– desert s–orm.”
“A STORM?!” the two shouted in unison. They were like statues doing their best to not move and ruin the image.
“The pilot–s a–r–e telling m– that– we may– not even– ma– it–” The screen statics out and then reappears. “I–m go–in with another– pilot in a smaller air–cr–ft on the– shi–p. I– may– be to– late– but I will be ther–”
The signal goes out as the tent is flooded with the loud buzzing of the sightscreen. The Prof and his nephew fell to the ground as their last flicker of hope was blown away. “Marcus might not even make it at all…” Bartz closes his eyes, burying his head into knees and grabbing his satchel.
“By the First…Bartz this isn’t good…Oh god, I can’t feel my talons.”
The Prof. slowly starts to get up. His knees are visually wobbling as he tries to grab the edge of the table to hold himself in place. “W–we need to…We need to warn the–the vanguar–” Before he even finished his sentence, the poor crowku’s knees gave out, causing him to fall back onto the ground. This time, he fell face forward and entered the realm of unconsciousness.
Cradling his satchel, Bartz prepares for the end of the world by resting on top of the war table in the fetal position.
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