“…It’s not there…anymore…”
Alisson heard Celis mumble under her breath behind him.
“What? What’s not there?”
Alisson asked, and immediately was Celis’s dreary face replaced with surprise.
“Ah! Ah, it’s, it’s nothing.”
Alisson furrowed his brow.
“I let you sleep in for a reason, it’s no good if you’re still sleepy like that.”
Alisson shook his head in disappointment with an amused smile, Celis looked away, apparently guilty. It’d been an hour or so since they’d awakened. Or more aptly, since Celis had awakened. Alisson had taken first watch for the night, and, fearing that damned succubus would come back, he didn’t try to sleep. He’d been perfectly fine sitting atop the tower, bathing in the moonlight with his eyes closed, simply listening to the rustle of the night winds pushing upon the field.
What happened the night before almost seemed supernatural to Alisson now. A succubus had appeared, talked with him, and then left. Nobody back home would believe such a tale. He wondered what exactly was going through the beast’s head, or if anything had been going through it at all. The whole conversation seemed surreal to him.
Alisson blew a burst of air through his nose just thinking about it.
After he’d proclaimed his hatred, the succubus had used the exact format he’d used, only with her own words.
Just more proof that it’s not intelligent.
Alisson thought. Surely, succubae were mere mimics; they had no real humanity.
Despite his thoughts, Alisson couldn’t help but remember the succubus’s melancholic smile that she’d worn the moment before she’d disappeared.
…
Clouds had rolled in, and the wind had sped. The sun seemed to only have an hour of life left in it for the day, it’d be dark soon. Alisson clicked his tongue. He did not, by any means, want to stay out here in these plains. There was no cover, they’d be seen for kilometers away. The few trees that did dot the land were hardly large. Even the grass here seemed short, and starved; for many blots of brown blades were sprinkled in Alisson’s vision. He could easily guess why; the massive fields of wheat hundreds of kilometers behind them were an obvious suspect.
Taking into account the horrible position Alisson had on his hands, he didn’t have many options.
As they continued on for a few more minutes however, Alisson saw a wooden wall appear over the horizon, and he furrowed his brow. The wall had been made with numerous vertical stakes, and the whole perimeter was a little smaller than a village; however, its height was only the length of two or so grown men. Alisson could see a tall stone tower, it was thin, and looked like a belfry tower to him. The walls were surrounded by some tilled land and crops, evidently this field was manmade compared to the previous fields he’d been in from it’s orderly rows.
There were only a few possibilities to what that was. It could be a military encampment, but judging from the lack of watch towers and perimeter guards, that probably wasn't the case. It could also be a bandit-controlled fort, Alisson highly doubted any simple marauders would be brazen enough to encamp in such an exposed area, but it was still a possibility.
It could also be a goblin holdout. God forbid if that was the case, that would mean a very high-ranking goblin and numerous intermediate ranking ones, such as hobgoblins, would be present. But from the fact that Celis and him hadn't been ambushed or engaged yet, Alisson didn't think it was the case. That, and Alisson hardly believed that goblins had figured out how to farm.
"What's that?"
Celis asked, her horse pulling side-by-side to Alisson; the winds now howling past Alisson.
"I don't know. It doesn't seem to be dangerous. I say we continue right by it, we don't have the time to investigate."
Alisson replied as he eyed the brewing grey clouds above him. He most certainly didn't want to be caught in a storm without shelter, they needed to move, either to find the eye of the storm, or to escape it.
Alisson silently cursed to himself; if only he had one good ranger with him. They wouldn't have to be walking toward the unknown all the time, and a support archer would definitely take a load off his mind.
As the two of them continued on past the crossroads, More and more details became apparent. There was a sandy road that broke off from the cobble one, leading to a gate of sorts. At the front of the gate, was a man in brown robes waving to the two of them. As Alisson approached closer, the man called out to them.
“Oy there travelers!”
Firdu.
He didn’t seem like a bandit to Alisson, so he approached the man, coming to a stop. It must’ve been quite imposing to the man in robes, two fully kitted horses and two riders clad in world-class gear. Alisson tilted his head at the man, he clearly wasn’t nobility or anyone special, so Alisson didn’t bother to dismount before speaking.
“Aye. What is this place? Who are you?”
Alisson asked. Really, they didn’t have the time to dawdle and ask questions, so Alisson planned to simply pass by.
It would be more suspicious if Alisson didn’t say a word to the man. Alisson wanted to keep hush-hush about their movements, so he was forced into meager formalities.
Of course, Alisson could easily kill him. That’d be a dumb move given their lack of information, for all Alisson knew, a dozen Diamond-ranked Andestinian Knights could be hiding behind the wall, ready to ambush him.
“I am abbot Ur’yid Liknearavich, and this is the Saulicid Monastery, pleased to make your acquaintance. There is a bad storm coming, please, please, do take shelter; it’s dangerous out here.” The man beckoned toward them, he turned and started to open the large gate into the compound.
For being dressed in nothing but simple robes and an amulet around his neck, this Liknearavich’s way of speech was very refined, and noble. It was clear that this was truly a monk, most likely literate and educated. Alisson was slightly dubious of the man’s insistence, but the monk’s complete disregard for what Celis and his identities were was a point in the right direction. ‘Liknearavich’ was also an odd name, Alisson only heard those kinds of names up in the north, though the man’s first name seemed natural to the area; people from all over the world gathered for religion it seemed.
The monk didn’t seem to be lying, as the gate opened Alisson could spot numerous people, evidently oblates, bumbling about between small ancillary buildings, preparing for the storm. In the center of the walled area was a large stone circular building; most likely the cloister of the monastery. It looked quite old from it’s mossy walls and towering architecture. The belfry tower he’d seen from before sat atop the center building, reaching high into the sky. Alisson had a perfect view of a large panel of stained glass upon the cloister’s walls, it depicted some sort of scene with a cavalier and a man with a hoe.
I’ll be damned.
It seemed that Alisson and Celis had struck a vein of good fortune. He knew nothing of religion; but he did know that monasteries and churches were welcoming of travelers, especially in these kinds of conditions.
“Thank you, Father Liknearavich.”
Alisson answered as he dismounted. Celis, seeing her master’s decision, also hopped off her horse. They entered the walls of the monastery, led by Liknearavich they approached a large hall with some adjacent stables.
“Ah, it’s a good thing I always keep watch before we close our gates, else you’d be stuck out there. Hardly any travelers come down that road except pilgrims you see. But here,” Liknearavich stopped at the front of the hall, “Make yourself at home, and do stay as long as you’d like. Though I warn you, the Lord has foreseen two Blood Moons approaching within the week, you’d be safe to stay the while.” Liknearavich spoke as he gently thumbed the amulet around his neck.
For now, Alisson didn’t want to stir up trouble, so he simply nodded his head and led their horses into the stables. Alisson certainly wasn’t scared of any ‘Blood Moons’, especially one ‘foreseen’ by some invisible being. He’d never been through one personally, but apparently monsters ran rampant during those nights, almost like a flood of them. He didn’t want to tell the abbot that Celis and him were only going to wait out the storm, at least for the moment. After stowing their mounts, the two of them entered the public hall. The cloister, the main stone building in the center, was off-limits to the general people, so most passersby’s were biding their time in the ancillary buildings of the compound. There were a dozen people within the dark hall, some chatting, others napping, and some chowing down on food they’d brought. The few dim candles that were lit had accumulated large amounts of melted wax, and the whole interior had a wafting scent of oak wood and black rye bread.
Alisson could only guess where this large amount of humanity had come from, the road he’d been travelling had been barren of anyone else. This monastery, so called the Saulicid Monastery, shared it’s name with the far off Saulicid mountain range. The mountains served as a natural barrier for the Caliphate, effectively, it marked the start and end of real human control, for many of the larger cities rested farther east, past the mountain range. Even the Caliphate’s capital seemed to be perfectly protected by the semicircular mountain range; cradled, even. The few settlements that were west of the mountain range seemed to only consist of small villages and monasteries; they were all quite close to the base of the mountain range, relatively speaking, so it’s not as if they were completely isolated from the rest of the nation. These small settlements were probably where these people in the hall came from, human intranational travel was extremely common compared to Sidonian independent travel. Compared to Alisson and Celis’s movement, human travel took far longer; they didn’t have the luxury of protection. Because of this lack in safety on the road, humans either had to wait for a convoy to join, or make very fast settlement to settlement darts. Part of securing intranational trade power was ensuring that there were many large caravans and that these small ‘darts’ were as safe as possible.
The two of them found a relatively uncrowded part of the hall, one where a large window was overlooking the rest of the monastery. It looked like the rain had started, it was now drizzling, and the sky was completely gray. Him and Celis took a seat on the floor adjacent to the rows of pews, it was much brighter than the rest of the hall thanks to the light shining in from the window.
They sat in silence for a while, as the storm slowly picked up in intensity. The winds pushed harder upon the walls of the hall, he could hear the screeching of the air passing the building. The rain started to pour, the ground outside turned to mud, and the droplets of rain started creating splashes in the now liquid ground.
Alisson heard Celis audibly swallow next to him , before she tugged a little on his cloak. He looked to see a pleading Celis’s face.
“Um, er. You should sleep, Alisson.”
Alisson was glad Celis didn’t refer to him as ‘master’ in this public space. With his previous apprentices, he’d been quite shy of the whole ‘master’ title. Alisson thought the word master was too over the top for what he really was, a teacher and mentor. He was no slave owner.
“I’m fine.”
Celis looked away for a moment.
“But, but you stayed up all night for me…”
As those words reached Alisson’s ears, his body suddenly felt fatigued, as if Celis’s words had made him remember his own tire.
“I am fine, really-”
Celis shook his arm a little, she tilted her head with a small smile.
“Sleep!”
Awa…How can I refuse such a face?
Alisson’s face reddened as he heard his own thoughts, he looked away as to hide himself; however, Celis apparently took it as him heeding her words, for she giggled happily. Alisson mentally sighed. He’d just dug a hole for himself, now hadn’t he?
With the rare image of Celis’s smile, the time past, and Alisson’s eyes fluttered to a close.
…
Mmm…it’s so soft and warm…
My eyes finally open. Uh. Woops. I tried not to fall asleep but, it looks like my body had better plans.
What greets my cheek, is a hard, and cold, steel palindrome; covered in my drool.
Uh! Oh crap!
My face flushed red as I turned up to look at Alisson and…he’s still asleep. Phew. I let out a large sigh of relief. That could have been really bad.
After Alisson had fallen asleep, I couldn’t help but hear his soft breathing, and see his gently closed eyes. His chest rising and falling ever so slightly, hah, what a sight. I don’t remember much after I’d grabbed on to his hand; but now, here I am, my body wrapped fully around his arm. One of my arms is wrapped under his shoulder, and the other, is still holding his hand.
Ah! So embarrassing!
My body recoils away from Alisson. It’s weird, it’s not like his armor was transmitting his body heat, so why’d the air suddenly get crisp and thin?
This reminds me of when I woke up in Curlessi, in Alisson’s bed. I wonder what happened…Did Alisson really manage to escape my grip without waking me? I was still super embarrassed, but for some reason, Alisson wasn’t.
Ahh…I really am the luckiest apprentice in the world, his forearm was right between my knees, if he’d moved his arm even a little to the side then he would of, he would of…
I shake my head.
…The horses! Crap! I was supposed to be watching them while Alisson slept! We could’ve been robbed, and I’d be the one at fault!
After wiping away the drool on my mouth and on Alisson’s armor as thoroughly as I can with my cloak, I stow my worry and rise as quietly as I can. Man, it’s quiet now, most everyone is asleep. The rain seems to have recently died down, and the sky outside the windows is dark blue now. I see a few monks roaming the paths of the cloister and some monks meditating. Some travelers are reading quietly next to candles, but not a single person spoke. It was probably darker inside the hall than out in the moonlight, with how little lighting there was. Man, good thing me and Alisson decided to sit on the floor, and in such a tucked away corner of the hall, nobody bothered us. I walk over to the windows before me as nonchalantly as I can.
I squint my eyes and look out toward the stable.
Thank Sidonia. They’re still there, and it doesn’t look like anyone tried to cut their way into our bags. Man, luck really loves me. I have a feeling Alisson hasn’t been lucky in his life. Ever. He’s pessimistic to the point that he takes optimism for naivety. I can only imagine how he feels when he has to take a risk; he’d sooner blame himself than a situation. I remember our time in Foksly, Alisson must’ve felt responsible for all that death…
I look over to Alisson, frowning.
I don’t get the feeling Alisson cares much for what Davy did to him, only of what Davy did to our comrades. I click my tongue in anger as I remember the events of that last horrid day.
Me, as I am now, I’d kick Davy’s ass. I’d beat him so that Alisson wouldn’t have had to suffer like that. If only I’d been stronger. The only reason I was able to squeeze through the battle alive, was because of how much damage Alisson himself had caused before exiting the picture. My smaller body made it so I was only hit once, even then I broke a rib but; after fighting Alfonso and beating his sword skills, I think I’d be able to effectively win against some psycho with a club.
I clench a fist, the tightening of my gauntlet audible in this quiet hour.
What if something like that is ahead of us, something terrible, something worse; what if Alisson isn’t able to save me and win? I’ve been nothing but dead weight to him so far. Every battle I’ve won alone, there’s either been a large power gap, or Alisson’s been close by and lets me fight solo to improve.
I narrow my eyes at Alisson’s sleeping face.
But, as if on cue, Alisson’s mouth opens in a silent yawn. He brings a hand to his mouth, his eyes opening slowly. His head turns to me. After seeing my frown, clenched fist, and narrowed eyes, he looks over to the window; noticing the time of day, his face guiltily turns red. Jeez, it’s not like you overslept or anything, the rain just cleared up, you’re such a pushover sometimes.
My frown turns to an amused a smile without me realizing, but it looks to only make Alisson feel more guilty. He quietly cleared his throat before rising in a single and silent movement. He quickly and soundlessly approaches, leaning on the windowsill naturally. He looks outside with a focused stare.
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He emits a quiet sigh, apparently relieved the horses are fine, and that the rain had just stopped. Thankfully, the stables were not without roofing, so aside from some mud at their feet, the horses aren’t even dirty. Alisson glances at me with the same focused stare in a minute of awkward silence.
I feel a sort of weird tingling, at my ears and in my head, for whatever reason.
Alisson’s face suddenly twists up in embarrassment and he hurriedly looks away.
“S-sorry. I forgot that you didn’t have the telepathy spell.”
He rushed to whisper under his breath. Oh, so that’s what that weird tingling was. Alisson looked back out toward the monastery’s landscape.
“It’s still pretty humid, and the ground is still as viscous as mud, I say we wait a little longer.”
I nod my head even though he isn’t looking at me. We both sit back down, taking care not to fall back asleep. After a few minutes, my mind starts to wander again.
I wonder what the 51st are doing right now. I only know like, three of them by name, but for some reason I really like them. They were nice to me, for the few words they spoke to me. Except that Claus girl, she almost groped my breasts the first time we met! The Daventdale guy is cool, I guess. He seems like Alisson’s extroverted protector. There was also that Alieri girl, the one with two different colored eyes, one purple and the other a faded silver. She seems the most likable to me; she’s not, er, mentally challenged, like Lady Salchyon. But she’s also prim, gets to the point, and actually has social awareness.
Lady Salchyon is weird. Where do I start? She’s, um, overly excitable, and super ditzy in her speech. Her passive motions were jumpy, and childish, but her active movement was really rocksteady. I don’t get it. I’ve learned you can tell a lot from the way people move, but she just plain confuses me. She’s like the opposite of Alisson, all his actions are fluid and consistent, serene and with meaning; even under tons of stress.
I don’t see how he’s fine standing toe to toe with some massive, terrifying monster, but the second he gets embarrassed or engages in conversation, he gets really flustered. I’ve also noticed something, it’s just a hunch on my part but, Alisson speaks more and more formally the more stressed or unknowing he is of a situation. He doesn’t say half the random snotty words that he says with anyone he knows.
…Man. All these people I’ve met in these past couple months...
Before I finished my schooling, I had two friends. Oda and Ukuri. If I can consider their pity conversations with the shyest girl in the Academy actual friendship; but to me, it was really the extent of my social life back then.
Now though, it’s just me and Alisson on the road. It’s crazy, I’ve only felt lonely once this whole time outside the homeland, and that was because of that succubus.
I look over to Alisson, I catch him raising his hand up to his chest. He extends his index finger toward the ceiling and then looks at me. He smiles at me wryly. Uh. Just what exactly is he thinking? He looks at his finger and says something under his breath.
Three white balls, more like particles because they’re so small, appear surrounding Alisson’s finger. For their size, their light is really bright. Alisson whisks his finger, and the three lights dance circularly around his finger for a moment. He flicked his finger and the three white lights flew off about a foot away from his chest. The three balls faded in luminosity whilst splitting into dozens of other little white balls. The now sand-speck sized lights form up into a shape. It’s a leaf. Hundreds of small specks of white give it a pretty wireframe aesthetic. After a second of suspension, the leaf falls to the ground, as a real leaf does it bobs side to side as it loses height, eventually falling on the floor between me and Alisson. However, contrary to what I thought would happen, it remains corporeal, on the floor.
“What is it? Some sort of light magic?”
Alisson smirks at me.
“Try picking it up.”
I cautiously reach out for the leaf. I swear, if this really is a hologram or projection of light magic, I’m gonna deck Alisson. I timidly pinch an edge of the leaf.
“Wha…”
I let out a little gasp of surprise. It’s not just light magic. This thing is actually here, in my hands. What. I lift it into the air, and stare in awe at such a weird and pretty sight.
“…It’s just a little something I toy with on occasion.”
Alisson smiled guiltily. He still didn’t answer me.
“How did you make it?”
“It’s not light magic. I only know neutral and wind type spells after all. This, is a completely different realm of magic.”
There’s really only one culprit. I wasn’t expecting Alisson to know anything about such an apparently non-existent and hard to learn school of magic.
“It’s summoning magic?”
“You catch on quickly. Yes, it’s summoning magic. I can only really use the basics; but all that’s good for is a fancy party trick.”
I fiddle with the silky and weightless leaf in the palm of my hand.
“I think it’s pretty.”
“Indeed. It eats a large amount of my mana for ‘pretty’.”
Alisson waved his index finger about once more, and the leaf’s individual particles of white split away from each other, surrounding my hand and spinning slowly.
“Oh ho. I didn’t take you for a practitioner in the holy arts, traveler.”
A voice behind me almost makes me shout in surprise, but I manage to keep my cool. With a creak of a floorboard, a familiar monk in robes approaches the two of us; it’s Liknearavich. He took a seat on the pews adjacent to us, looking down at me and Alisson.
“That lightshow was quite a sight. It reminds me of our Forbidden Lord’s art.”
Wow. Alisson just saved our asses by disforming that leaf, that was drop dead obviously a summoning trick; being held in my hands in all. I really don’t know how people have such great awareness, I was so caught up in the leaf that I didn’t even notice Liknearavich, some old man, approach us. Just how did Alisson get such a good perception?
“Of course it wasn’t the Forbidden Art, Father.”
I can tell Alisson is lying through his teeth. Not just about the summoning, but about his own knowledge in whatever this abbot is babbling about. Hell if I know a thing about any religion, all I know about faith, is just that it’s some human oddity. Apparently, there are different kinds of religions. They all have different gods and beliefs or whatever, but they all get thrown under the blanket statement of ‘religion’ even though all of them denounce the other’s existence. I don’t get it. What even is a god?
“Yes, yes. You know, we need more Holy Practitioners, there just aren’t as many around here anymore. That fake prophet’s goons have drafted the lot of them into their war machines; it’s a pestilent filled time we live in. Even now, the fake prophet has ordered his marauders south, down past us. Whenever that mass of buffoons passes us, they always make a mess of the land and of our humble residence. We’ve resorted to clearing those wheat fields south of here as to make room for them so they can just pass on through without bothering us.”
Liknearavich says equivocally.
I’m assuming this ‘Fake Prophet’ is the Caliph, and his goons being the nobles around the area. I have no idea why the Caliph is a ‘Fake Prophet’, but it might be due to how diverse Aleeze was before a majority of it was united by the Caliphate and Principality; society was apparently heavily split between tribes and small nations before then. But dang, these sweet and kind monks, despite their hospitality, are inadvertently helping the human war effort against Sidonia by clearing a path for the Caliphates armies, it’ll speed up their pace considerably instead of funneling everyone down a few narrow roads. I only hope that the succubae in those fields will be alright, or if the fields will be permanently damaged by such a large-scale assault on nature conducted by the humans.
“It seems I’ve been fortunate enough to dodge the levy. For now, me and my servant are travelling up to the north as missionaries.”
Alisson is clearly talking out of his ass. He’s really good at making up things that make sense on the fly. For instance, I’m pretty sure Liknearavich was going to ask Alisson to stay at the monastery to practice his ‘Holy Arts’, but Alisson said he was a missionary; so Liknearavich would be discouraged from trying to poach away Alisson. But really, Alisson calls me something different every time he makes up a story. I’ve been his sister, a slave girl, a bastard child, and my favorite, ‘Some child who insists on following me’. But now, I’m just his servant. So if I do talk, I’ll need to remember that.
“Ah, what a pleasant sight, missionaries at such a young age. I am glad to see our future is faithful.” Liknearavich cracked a warm-hearted smile, “But, be careful up there in the north.” His smile faded, into a frown. “I’ve heard all sorts of terrible things about that part of the world; you truly are brave children of the Lord. There’s even a rumor about some keep up in northern Irine lands, I don’t remember the noble house, it was something like ‘Hey-len’,” Liknearavich plays with the foreign name in his tongue for a moment, “-Travelers say the keep went silent a few months back, nobody heard of it for a while; so when people arrived to check up on the lord of the castle, all they found was a crater, there wasn’t even a stone brick in sight, much less anyone from inside the castle. To think that an entire fort went missing just like that. There’s also that forest that’s close by, do avoid it, it’s become dangerous in the last couple weeks if you haven’t heard of it. It all reeks of demon meddling, please be careful up there, my children.”
Please, Sidonia, never let a single person who’s not a Nekomata call me their child.
“Well,” Alisson stood, he peered out the nearby window for a moment, “It seems the moment has passed. We will be on our way.”
Instead of trying to wrangle out more information and possibly risk being caught up in more religious talk, talk that Alisson wouldn’t be able to perform, Alisson promptly dismisses us from the abbot’s presence. Phew. I was getting the creeps from this guy’s attitude. I’ve never heard such a kind and well-mannered human before, but then again I haven’t spoke with many humans the same age as Liknearavich, so I can’t very well speak too freely.
…
The winds had calmed, but they had not halted. The breeze of air passed over the moist fields of mud, eventually reaching and biting at Alisson. Thankfully, the stone road they’d gotten quite used too traveling on had continued on past the monastery, Celis and him had been following it for the past few hours now. The sun looked like it was going to rise any minute now.
Judging from the coloring of the cobble road, and the cloister, it seemed the monks may have built the roads in the surrounding area. Oddly enough, according to Alisson’s compass, the road had pointed exactly toward the magnetic north. Alisson wondered how far this road would continue on for, he’d never heard of such a straight and long road up the continent before.
In the distance, over the horizon rose a large dark blot against the light of the sky. From the lighting and shape, it was a far-off forest; and considering the position, it was the forest he’d been looking forward to passing through. Dubiously enough, the humans in the area had all been talking about how dangerous it’s supposedly become. Alisson couldn’t believe his ears; he’d only been in that forest once in his life, and it’d been breathtakingly beautiful. It’s dark coloring now was only because of the early hour and thick canopy of tall and fluffy trees.
“Hey Alisson.”
“Yes?”
“The forest up there, does it have a name?”
Celis must have really had a grudge against that forest of midnight near Curlessi, nothing there had been named, not even the forest itself. Alisson understood the mild annoyance of referring to something that was not eponymous.
“Yes, it’s name is apparently ancient, older than any nation so the rumor goes; though the pronunciation has probably changed in such a long time, so that isn’t exactly true. It’s called the Menton Ildeif Kre’herve. But the locals simply call it the Menton Forest.”
Celis let out a murmur of acknowledgement as her gaze set on the forest.
“The place is beautiful, but don’t get distracted by it’s cute animals and pretty flowers; we need to keep on moving right on past.”
Celis nodded, although he heard her mumble something under her breath, You’d be the one to get distracted by the cute stuff.
“Excuse me?”
He asked, not hearing Celis’s mumble.
“Ah-! N-nothing.”
She looked away, for whatever reason, Alisson didn’t exactly believe her.
“…Past the forest, I want to restock our rations at a village called Edgringrad; it will be the last settlement on the road for a while, but if my calculations are right, we should be able to make the expanse without even going hungry if we prepare.”
Celis nodded once more, and another stretch of silence befell them as they neared closer and closer to the already humongous forest. Even though it was still a few kilometers away, thanks to the open expanse of the plain, Alisson could see just the absolute size of it, it stretched on and on to his east and west. As they entered the buffer zone of the forest wherein young trees, ferns, and bushes started to sprout, Alisson’s mind landed on his Opensen. He hadn’t used it since Foksly, but he was sure it wasn’t fully healed yet; if Alisson were to guess, it was probably about 3 quarters healed if he heeded his instinct. Alisson could only imagine how the abbot at that monastery would react if Alisson were to activate it. The shock on his face of learning someone was a Nekomata was probably priceless.
Alisson promptly shoved the sadistic thought aside.
Some elders, old Nekomata in there 900’s, still had constant ears and tails formed upon their bodies. They’d inevitably been a hell of a lot more powerful than any newborn Nekomata today. It was a dreadful thought however, to think that the Nekomata were slowly losing their trump card due to some sort of genetic fading. Of course, Opensens improved the more they were used, so theoretically if Alisson were willing to be fatigued out of his mind for a few years of his life, his endurance in being able to sustain the Opensen for longer periods would inevitably increase. Alisson could guess that this fading of power was why the oldest and most experienced families of infiltrators had near non-existent Opensens; for they’d been selected on their premature loss of the power for infiltration. Hence why nowadays Infiltrators almost never had the trump card of an Opensen to get them out of trouble if need be.
Alisson furrowed his brow on those thoughts, some of the elders pronounced the heritage-ability as, ‘Epensen’. Sidonia however had apparently preferred the ‘O’ pronunciation, for whatever reason, and so it’d became the more accepted way to speak the word. Alisson always theorized on why this particular word was the only one of his Lady’s language that had an alternative pronunciation, not including the diacritics of course.
Alisson’s muse about a word ended however, when they were once again faced with the entrance of a forest. Compared to the previous forest, he could see quite deep into it, he could see the ancient moss growing across the undergrowth, stretching atop tree’s and rocks. He could see the colorful rainbow of flowers and shrubs that dotted the forest’s understory. The trees were a pleasing shade of green, and there was not a single dead leaf or bush to be seen. Alisson had been expecting at least something to change with all the rumors the humans had passed around, but it seemed the humans had been up to their old tricks once again, for this, was a beautiful sight.
“Um. Alisson. Didn’t you say we had to move?”
Alisson’s face flushed red as he realized his incompetence.
“Ah, r-right. Yes, let’s continue.”
The horses started their gait into the forest.
…However. A crack and whoosh sounded.
Before Alisson could even turn his head, numerous things were wrapping a around his body. He looked down to see green tendrils curling and tightening on him. They resembled the adjacent creeper vines that until seconds ago, had been laying dormant across the forest floor. Before he could even struggle, the vines pulled, and Alisson was simply yanked off his stallion.
Alisson yelped as he hit the floor, in a daze for a moment, his mind soon re-centered. His eyes opened in a panic to the sight of the stallion and the mare, galloping full speed away from them, it seemed that they weren’t entangled as he was. Out of his peripheral sight, he saw Celis, in the same position as he was, suspended by the creeper vines. She struggled as well, before flashing a pleading glance at Alisson. He struggled furiously for a moment, to no avail. He then heard two sets of thumps, or rather, two sets of heavy footfalls. In front of them, emerging behind a thick tree and a large bush of leaves, were two bipedal clumps of what seemed to be plant mass. They were double Alisson’s height, they had thick limbs made of numerous leaves and vines, but they had no obvious head, eyes or ears. From their chests, leaked a pink mist, it flowed faintly toward him and Celis.
This is bad!
What the hell were these things? More pressingly, Celis and him were helplessly restrained. Alisson briefly considered his options of escape.
Do I activate my Opensen? It’s a fair chance, but…I’m not sure it will work.
Alisson shook his head as he made up his mind.
Screw it! Unfinished healing be damned! I’d rather escape and be alive with some pain than dead!
With Alisson’s resolve thoroughly made up, the surrounding area flashed a brilliant blue. All was normal at first, except that one of Alisson’s yellowed ears that rested upon his head was only partway visible, the rest of it was just a blue wire frame.
With this increased strength, Alisson, forcing his entire will into his body, utilizing every limb and both his tails, pushed and tugged as hard as he could.
…Despite his best effort, the vines only budged an inch before promptly tightening. What about magic?
No good, any spells I fire without proper aiming won't have a good chance of hitting anything.
Even if he did manage to destroy the two creatures before him, Alisson would still be restrained by the vines. Although, on that thought, Alisson had a gut wrenching idea. He could form a spell within his body. Yes, it'd tear through his flesh like tinfoil, but he'd be able to aim it. Perhaps if he unleashed a magic barrage out of all of his limbs at once...
Before he was able to continue scouring over the idea, Alisson's body grew considerably heavier.
Crap! My body feels weak! It’s that pink mist! It must be some sort of neurotoxin!
Alisson’s mind felt hazy as his thoughts quickly slowed, the pink mist from the bipedal plant monsters wafting into his nose.
As his vision faded, he heard the nearby rustle of leaves as something new approached him. With his final breath of consciousness, he heard a single sentence on the wind.
“So, what exactly are you two?”
...
“How about it then? We are not compromised yet, I trust?”
Upon a makeshift throne, sat a silver haired man. His equally silver eyes had not a single glint of light in them. His voice seemed dead, monotone, as if speaking more in a drone than a crescendo; the gaps between his words were perfectly equal. Before him stood another man of equal age, with brown hair and sharp red eyes. The seated one wore a white cloak, whereas the other wore a red cape with elaborate scaled armor.
They were within the darkness of a cave, the area was fortified with numerous wooden barriers and sandbags. Throughout the cave, a few sparse people manned the fortifications, they all wore hooded cloaks, hiding their faces.
Every single breathing being in that cave, belonged to the 56th ‘Black’ Platoon.
“Hmph. Word came in from ‘ol Wally. They’re coming. Andestine finally figured us out, Sivister.”
The man with the brown hair replied. The seated one closed his eyes slowly.
“Please address me by my Lady’s given title; els’t I shan’t hear you.”
The standing one rolled his eyes.
“Lackadaisical, then. They should be here within the day; according to Wally, they have Hero support.”
After a pause of silence, the seated man, ‘Lackadaisical’, responded.
“They are easy prey then. Let them come. We need to buy only a little more time do we not?”
“Yes, the technicians say it should be disarmed within the hour.”
Lackadaisical slowly cracked open his eyes.
“Good, good. Make sure our welcoming presents are in order, if my forces do not falter, then I need not stand for such humans, no?”
“…Yes, I suppose they are not a match for you.”
“They shouldn’t be for you either. You, Ardinand, you are the second seat, you should be fine alone no?”
These two, were the two most powerful swordsmen in Sidonia. Sivister ‘Lackadaisical’ Leydendier, was the official first seat, the supposed most powerful, the sword of the Lady.
The man before him, Ardinand Li Arquis, was the first son of the Arquis Household. He’d been a prodigy, experienced in both politics, logistics, and strategy, he was regarded as an heir to Supreme Command. On top of all of his knowledge, he was still the second best Sidonian warrior; the very embodiment of the Sidonian expectation upheld.
“Yes, I’ll be fine. It’s your platoon I’m worried about; they don’t hold a candle to us, will they really be fine against the Andestinians?”
Lackadaisical simply raised an eyebrow at Ardinand.
“They won against the 51st. That is more than their proof of worth for what I care.”
Ardinand furrowed his brow. It bothered him how little care Lackadaisical seemed to give his subordinates. Ardinand himself had been temporarily attached to the 56th to pad it’s power, solidifying his belief that whatever the technicians were doing, the Lady was serious about it:
Failure was not an option.
Though, the more and more time he had spent with Lackadaisical, the more and more Ardinand’s opinion of him had dropped. Same with that damned Serendipity, why was it that the two actual most powerful in Sidonia had such backwards attitudes?
“Forty-eight of Alisson’s 51st? Against the sixteen 56th? I’d like to see that.”
The 56th, the ‘Black Platoon’, none of them had spoken a single word to Ardinand, or to each other, or to Lackadaisical. It bothered Ardinand, he felt like an outsider to this mysterious unit; at least Louise’s 57th and the 51st he could talk to, but these, 56th, he couldn’t even get them to say ‘Hello’ to him.
“Too bad. We have better things to do than fight with those kids again. They were no match for my forces, and as far as I’m concerned, no Nekomata can change much in a few decades.”
Ardinand crossed his arms with an amused smile, a rebuttal forming in his head instantly.
“What about Serendipity? You heard the rumors, she rose from the worst to the best within the span of a year, and she didn’t stop at that.”
“Tch…”
Lackadaisical clicked his tongue. He clenched a fist upon the armrest of his wooden throne.
“Serendipity is the exception, that bastard always outdoes us.”
In broad terms, the top five officially seated fighters in Sidonia were at the very least within spitting distance of Lackadaisical. But Serendipity, that damned Apophria Vi Nuam, no one could beat her; it wasn’t even a competition. For that fact, she’d been unceremoniously displaced out of any ranking or position she held; she now only existed within the Lady’s words. Ardinand only wondered what would happen if she’d been given command of a unit of her own, most high-ranking fighters were given command of other gifted warriors, as to multiply the empire’s strength. He could only imagine if Serendipity would propel her subordinates into her realm, or if they’d simply get in her way. To his knowledge, the only apprentice Serendipity had ever gotten was her little brother, and that placed him within the 1st percentile of power within the span of a decade. Ardinand shuddered; just what the hell did she do to that poor kid?
“I suppose you’re right,” Ardinand hesitated for a moment, before reciting the 56th’s motto, “ ‘It matters not where, who or why, if Sidonia orders it, hell be upon those who stand in our way.’ ”
Every single 56th in the cavern turned, at the exact same time, toward Ardinand; their wordless stares, chilled him to his core.
***