019 | First Tear

VINCENT AWOKE WITH A jolt, gasping for air as he sat up. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his hands shook with exertion. He scanned his surroundings and saw a young man who looked like he was in his early twenties standing over him with an unreadable expression – Lucas.

  His uncle should be already in his mid-40s, around the same age as his parents, but he still looked so young. The benefits of being a High Sorcerer.

  "What happened?" Vincent rasped, his voice hoarse from the intense aether poisoning.

  "You pushed yourself too hard," Lucas replied, his voice filled with equal parts of concern and annoyance. "You were out for three full days. You know the risks."

  Vincent scowled at the rebuke but didn't argue. He knew Lucas was right. He had been driven by a bout of rage and lost track of his own physical limits. The Grim Reaper… him… losing himself to rage? Why? “And you know that there were risks, Lucas. How did you know?”

  Lucas helped Cassius to his feet and handed him a flask of water. "That you have high-tier Aetheric spells? Aelius, he let me know. Your mental space nearly shattered."

  Vincent took a long swig of the water and felt it cool his throat. He glanced at Lucas and saw that he was studying him with a critical eye. “What is it?”

  "You're using my suit, and you tossed out my revolver," Lucas said before opening the window to let in some air, complaining about the stuffiness of the room. “We’re in the infirmary. Lisa brought you here.”

  Vincent said, “Which you placed in a room I could find. I should thank you for that."

  Lucas only tilted his head as he furrowed an eyebrow. “That’s not what I meant. I’m asking what prompted you to transform.”

  Vincent thought for a bit and decided to tell him everything.

  After hearing his tale, Lucas said, “As Vincent, you told your parents you’re with the AIC, and you offered them a choice to take yo–” Lucas cleared his throat and repeated himself, “...you offered them a choice to take away Cassius? Might I ask what led to this decision?

  “It was the only excuse that made sense at that very moment. I had no idea they would react that much. If I told them I was with counterintelligence–” Vincent said.

  “You would risk exposing yourself,” said Lucas. “And if you pretended to be an independent sorcerer, even if you saved Lady Isabella, you would still be under heavy surveillance and scrutiny. So, claiming yourself to be affiliated with the AIC was your best choice. Am I correct?”

  “Yes,” Vincent said as he stood up, fixing his suit. Rather… Lucas’ suit. It felt nice. Maybe he should ask Lucas to give it to him.

  “Follow me. Others have more need of this room,” said Lucas and Vincent followed him out.

⁂

Vincent followed Lucas outside the infirmary, and they headed outside the gate entrance, guarded by several civil guards.

  When they reached the streets, Vincent felt a chill run down his spine as he witnessed the horrors before him. Everything was in disarray. Smoke rose from burning buildings, casting an acrid scent throughout the area.

  The sounds of cries echoed through the air, and Vincent saw the sight of the wounded and the deceased. Men and women lay scattered about the street, their bodies twisted in pain and agony. Vincent looked toward a building overflowing with those injured in the fighting, their cries of pain piercing the air.

  “The infirmary is full,” Lucas said as if he noticed him looking around. "There are too many of the wounded."

  "Why did you bring me here, Lucas?" he asked, forcing himself to cool down, yet his voice subtly trembled with anger. Not at Lucas… but at what he saw. But why? Why did he feel anger? He’s so used to death that it should come as no surprise to him.

  "This is just the beginning," Lucas replied, his expression turning serious as he halted on his steps, before picking up a doll. "Throughout the archipelago, the flames of war will spread. And your family will be at the center of it all.”

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  “Which includes you. But I’m assuming you’re referring to my paren–”

  “I’m talking about the Aramdales. Governor General Theodore and Lady Isabella,” said Lucas, and Vincent raised an eyebrow.

  But he soon realized why Lucas corrected himself. If he’s transformed into Vincent, then he should act as Vincent. “And am I supposed to be alarmed?”

  “No,” said Lucas before tossing the doll to a burning rubble and resuming his walk. Vincent followed. “Because the end is nigh… and there is a way to prevent it.”

  “You want me to help,” Vincent concluded.

  Lucas did not answer and continued to walk down the quiet street, the sun beating down on their backs. Aside from the obvious state of the city, it was eerily peaceful, with no sign of the impending battle that would come with nightfall.

  But even in the daytime, the scars of war were evident. Buildings lay in ruin, their walls blackened with soot and their rubble strewn across the streets. The sound of distant hammering could be heard as workers tried to repair the damage.

  “The Civil Guards have reclaimed this area,” Lucas said. “The Order of Kalis still occupies the outer edges of the city.”

  “Order of Kalis?” asked Vincent.

  “That’s what the rebel forces call themselves. They claim to be the military forces of the RMA,” said Lucas as they turned a corner. “But we both know that’s unlikely.”

  “Has the RMA issued a statement?” he asked.

  “No,” said Lucas as they came upon a couple of people huddled together in front of a burnt-out shop. A woman sobbed uncontrollably, her hands clasped over her mouth. A man stood beside her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders in a vain attempt at comfort.

  Lucas gave them a wooden token of some kind. “Head to the infirmary. All is lost here,” he said.

  The woman hesitated. From what Vincent gathered, they are peninsulars who just lost their business, and the woman would rather die than live in poverty. The man urged the woman to get up, and they finally decided to leave.

  “Seeing all of these, what do you feel, Vincent?” Lucas said when the couple was out of sight.

  Vincent thought for a while. He felt anger. But he was never one who sought justice for another. At the same time, he didn’t know what to feel or why he should even feel something. “I don’t know, Lucas. I wish I knew,” he said.

  "That’s right. You haven’t yet attached yourself to this world, trapped in your past, begging for release,” said Lucas. “You’ve nothing to live for or to die for. Or do you?”

  “I don’t know,” he said quietly as he looked at the bright, blue sky, a contrast to the bleak state of Edares. Then he remembered his parents – Isabella and Theodore. Would he die for them? Of course, he would. But that was not what Lucas referred to.

  Lucas said, “You saved that girl because you didn't want to pay the price of your own inaction. But in the end… that girl and her family died. This is where they breathed their last.”

  “No,” Vincent said, widening his eyes as he looked at Lucas. Then he remembered the doll Lucas had found. The girl was holding that same doll when she reunited with her parents. She must have dropped the doll on the way.

  He stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of it all. "She was but a child," Vincent muttered, his voice a mix of anger and sadness. "With her whole life before her... Who killed her? The Order of Kalis?”

  Lucas shook his head. “She and her folks were caught in the crossfire when rebels ambushed the civil guards escorting them.”

  Vincent clenched his jaw. “Why are you telling me this, Lucas?”

  “Because you deserve to know,” said Lucas before turning around to depart, leaving Vincent to grieve. “Inar is as cruel as your world. It is no place to seek your salvation, Vincent.”

  Vincent grinned as he shed his first tear in years before letting out a burst of loud laughter that echoed throughout. How ridiculous… How was he supposed to react to that?

  As he laughed, he realized that it was the first time in a long while that he felt something other than anger or apathy. The sound of his laughter felt foreign to him, almost as if it belonged to someone else.

  Then for a long time, he remained to pray.

  And then he walked away.

  And he continued to walk.

  To nowhere, to somewhere.

⁂

Vincent realized that he had been wandering the city, lost in thought, and now he found himself in a different part of Edares – the outer edges. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the ruined buildings.

  He could hear the sounds of distant gunfire and screams. But he continued to walk, not knowing where to go.

  Perhaps he was calling to God… to the Almighty… or to whoever gods might be out there to give him guidance... to ask why he felt that way, why he mourned when he shouldn’t be.

  Then he saw a church with an entrance of wooden doors that had been partially broken and pushed aside, allowing easy entry inside. He felt drawn to it but did not know why.

  But as he stepped inside, he felt a sense of calm wash over him, even as he gazed at the destruction before him.

  The pews were overturned, the altar shattered, and the stained glass windows were broken. Then amidst the rubble, Vincent saw a group of children huddled together, their eyes wide with fear as they clutched each other tight.