Bergoth Lumens

The rustling of the leaves destroyed the dawn's silence, but Bergoth Lumens kept walking as he braved the only brick lane leading to his house. Silhouettes of the oak trees adorning the side road reminded him of some dark tales he heard from his dead granny back then - the myth of God of Mischief who loves to cut trees. Whatever God's reason was, he was not interested to know because he found it jarring or stupid. Or both. Shivering, he zipped his grey jacket tightly and hastened his steps.

"Irresponsible ingrates..." he muttered when he saw the only silver-colored lamp post illuminating the road ten meters away. "It's been two years since the mayoral election...where did those promises to lighten up the nights go to?"

Minutes passed by, but Bergoth felt like it was an eternity. The strange feeling kept bothering him from the instant he reached his subdivision. Rustle. Tip-top. Patter. He instinctively shuddered when those sounds joined together like a whisper-like orchestra, and he was the only audience. He checked his watch and frowned when he realized it was 5:30 AM. "At this time, Kenneth should be jogging now...even the canuses aren't around?"

Canuses were dog-like creatures with an elephant's trunk-like nose, and people domesticated them because of their calm nature and uncanny depiction of time and fixed behavior. At this time, they should be awake and busy roaming the pavements. But for Bergoth, their absence made him anxious.

He rummaged in his pocket and took out his phone, ready to take any picture as evidence in case someone or something would pop out of nowhere before him. Almost running, he arrived at the only maple tree in the community and sighed in relief when he saw the familiar blue gate on the east side of the road. As soon as he reached the gate's door, he quickly set his hands on the palm-shaped device and heard a brief whirring sound. After a few seconds, the door opened.

Bergoth was about to enter when he felt his nape's hairs stand up. His muscles tightened for unknown reasons, and he could not move an inch. He wanted to speak, but his throat would not obey him.

The cold dawn began to heat up like it was the start of summer. Next, it became freezing. Then it started warming up. These went on and on like intermittent waves of temperatures, making him uncomfortable. As if it was not enough, he sensed the soft breeze of the wind hitting him got stronger, yet he could see the leaves not moving at all. To make things worse, he heard the familiar canuses' barking around him, almost making him deaf. Amidst the loud noises, a burst of the eerie, booming cackle of a man reverberated across the area, almost chilling him to death. He wanted to scream and run and even close his eyes to wait it out, but his body was in a cryogenic-like state. The shaking road under his feet only added up to his tense emotions. He felt like eons passed when all of a sudden, everything returned to how it was in the beginning.

As soon as Bergoth realized he could move, he sprinted to his house, locked the electronic gate, and rushed into the house. He immediately climbed the stairs and darted to his room, ignoring everything else. After securing the door, he leaned on the nearby wall and exhaled deeply.

Bergoth realized that sweat drenched his body like he was just out of his morning bath. He was almost wheezing as if gasping for air. His knees buckled, almost barely standing. The scary events just a few moments ago were gone like a figment of his imagination, but his current condition was a testament that everything was real.

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

When Bergoth thought he was calm enough to face the situation, he looked at his watch and muttered, "Still at 5:30 AM?" He made a quick step and peeked through the window, and his brows furrowed deeply. "Great...now I can see the canuses and the joggers on the road. What the fuck happened?"

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The Neo Orbital was already up, shining as it did for ages, emitting its bright light to the world. It was a cloudless day, and it was still early morning, but the dense crowd filled the pavement leading to a gray, circular structure at the end of the road. The line was moving fast, and the people chatted with someone as they waited for their turn to come. Even then, there was a black-haired man dressed in a white long-sleeved polo and black pants with a suitcase in his right hand, who was out of touch with the scene. When everyone was busy, he had an impassive face, his green eyes listlessly staring at the front. He was barely moving and could be mistaken for a statue if he was not walking along with the crowd.

Many people gaped at the middle-aged man from time to time. There was even a brunette lady that noticed his chiseled, handsome face. She wanted to start a conversation, but she felt his exuding cold demeanor. Logic won over her lust, and she stopped her attempt and continued talking with her friend beside her.

The man was aware of this but snorted because he was already used to it. He knew he was very handsome - 6 feet and seven inches tall, lean and muscle-packed body, broad chest and wide shoulders, well-sized nose, thin lips, symmetrical facial structure, and a healthy tan adorned his skin - many people had mistaken him for a star. Even agents asked him to be one, but he rejected them all because he was only interested in one thing - history. He did not know why but his body and mind longed for it as if telling him that it was his living purpose.

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He ignored them and went back to his rumination. The events that happened earlier were still vivid in his thoughts - the disappearance of the canuses, the changing temperature, the horrifying laughter that enveloped his body.

What the hell was that.

The change that happened when he peeked through the window gave him shivers. How in the world he did not see them earlier was a mystery, but he knew it was those types of events that logic could not explain.

So many questions but all of them had no answers. At least for now, Bergoth could not find an explanation that could justify them. He was in deep thoughts when he heard a male voice asking, "Name and target location?"

The man adjusted his eyeglasses before answering, "Bergoth Lumens. Marigold University in Brooks," and gave his ID.

The young man in a blue uniform set Bergoth's ID under a scanner, which beeped after a few seconds. He returned the ID and said, "Please proceed to the right cubicle and press the red button when ready," while pointing his fingers at the right side.

Bergoth took hold of his ID and nodded, followed the young man's directions, and approached the metal booth. It was not his first time using the Booth Portal, which was like a simple phone booth found beside the shopping malls. The difference was that the latter was for calling and the prior for teleportation. Luckily, the booth was big enough, and he entered casually. He looked at the right corner of the booth and saw a red, fist-sized button etched on the right side. Without wasting time, he pressed the button, and a white flash filled the booth after a few seconds. He closed his eyes beforehand and was not affected by it. Then he heard a mechanical voice saying, "You have arrived at your destination."

Bergoth opened his eyes slowly and glanced at the wall. The booth had the same design; the only difference was the blue button instead of red. After waiting for a few seconds, the door opened. He got outside and saw the signage on the right - Marygold University. He arrived at the Portal Booth just before the campus' brown gate made of Mythril - a rare metal preferred by blacksmiths for weapon-making.

Many students headed to the entrance while chatting on their way to classes. The university did not require them to wear uniforms, but today, the students wore one. Males garbed in crimson shirts and females dressed in blue ones and both wearing black pants - this created a striking scene. Waves of crimsons and blues arriving through the Booth Portal hinted that something was coming up.

"Good day, Mister Lumens," a female student waved her right hand and smiled when she saw Bergoth passing by. "Happy Boone Day!"

"A happy Boone Day to you as well, Mister Williams." Bergoth, who usually had a cold face, smiled at her and replied cheerfully. He went to the gate, leaving the student bedazzled.

How could I forget?

Bergoth just remembered what he forgot because of what happened a while ago. Boone Day, a festival unique to the country of Porrea, was a national event held by students regardless of their schools, commemorating the great hero Boone that protected their lands from foreign invaders.

According to history, Boone was a male compatriot active in the early 487 MC. That was an era wherein tyranny was prominent, and killing was not discouraged. To his friends, he was compassionate and kind, but to his enemies, he was famous for wielding a crimson-colored long sword in his right hand and a short sword with a blue hilt in his left hand. He never hesitated to kill to protect what he had.

The ancestors believed that he was an immortal and lived through eternity. Several records pointed out that he also participated in the Great Partition War at 879 MC, which led to the separation of the country of Porrea from Garcus. Some archaeological paintings even depicted his involvement in the Long Canal Event at the end of 1268 MC. This period was the start of the Promoss Era.

Boone was not only a warrior, but he was also a scientist. He discovered promoss, a dormant energy found in every nonliving thing, which became active under certain conditions. Its active form was used as fuel to run many devices today, including the Booth Portal, one of his inventions.

Arithmos was an all-purpose equipment that could run basic applications like playing games, chatting, and taking pictures, and complex ones like calculating weather updates and underground inspections. Dimensional bags in different sizes became the norm for transferring and storing things. It was safe to say that a single person changed the primitive Porrea into one of the most powerful countries in Mauritia.

But at the end of 1878 MC, he disappeared from everyone's sight. Nobody could tell his whereabouts, and his disappearance became the most bizarre unsolved case recorded in history. After that, news about his several written books and records got lost. Nobody knew what its content was all about, and rumors started to spread. Some say they were his diaries; others say they were his notes, maps, or historical events witnessed by him.

To honor him, at 1900 MC, the Porrean government created a law indicating May 7 as a national holiday, wherein the young ones aged 18 and below would wear the crimson and blue attires. A hundred and twenty-two years passed, and this holiday became a seven-day festival that ended on May 7. The schools were the most involved because people under 18 years were required to go to school.

Bergoth was caught in a festive mood, bypassing several buildings and past the university canteen, finally reaching the Department of History. He scanned his face via the scanner installed at the front door, and it opened after a few seconds of reading. He walked across the corridor, arrived at the corner beside the portal booth leading up to the second floor, and turned to the right until he saw his familiar office with his name etched on the door, muttering, "Ah, great Boone."

The office was simple. Bergoth's table was at the right corner, where his Arithmos was. On the other hand, a shelf made of ivory adorned the left area, filled with books and Boone's relic replicas. The only decent decor he had was a potted Eutherma, a herb that released minty aromas when sprinkled with water.

Bergoth set his suitcase, a variant of Dimensional Bag, atop the table and took a seat when he noticed the Arithmos' screen blinked. He placed his right palm on the scanner, and a mechanical voice greeted, "Welcome back, Mister Bergoth. You missed a call from Mister Eric an hour ago. Would you like to hear the recorded message?"

"Yes, please."

"Understood."

Bergoth grabbed his mug from his suitcase and drank with gusto. After drinking, he sighed, "Nothing beats my favorite milk..." He was about to reach out for his Cromur sandwich when the Arithmos began playing the record.

"Hey, Ice Berg, it's your good and only sensible friend here, Eric. Guess what? Heh, too bad I couldn't see your stinky face when you're about to hear what I just scooped two hours ago. Can you guess what? Heh, I guess not. Anyway, hey man, I got a surprise for you. Fresh from the Department of Archaeology. A relic, yes you heard that correctly, a fucking relic just arrived at the Archaeology headquarters. They say it came from a freshly discovered ruin. Interested? Then call back ASAP!"

Bergoth became excited and searched for his friend's number and dialed.