Standing before him was Fred, his dear best friend. The face was older than he remembered, slightly rugged and worn around the edges. His green hair flowing down his sides to his shoulders was unkempt, unorderly, and downright messy. Lines, not harsh enough to be called wrinkles, stretched across his forehead, faint but distinct, mapping out the tale of his endless trials and tribulations over the long years. The distinct scar that once covered half of his forehead started to wrinkle as his left yellow eye raised higher in doubt.
Fred put down his hands, the twin blades within his grip swaying until they stuck into the dirt. They carved two lines into the ground as they were dragged along Fred's slow and shaky legs. He opened his mouth and then closed it, pressing his lips together while shaking his head, slight tears flowing down his cheeks.
"No…." Fred looked away. "No…it can't be…it can't be you." He repeated to himself, flickering between a smile and a frown endlessly. He pointed several times at Oscar with his head still shaking and said, "You're not him. You're not him. He's dead. It's impossible. Who are you?" He choked on his words, rubbing his hand over his reddened eyes.
"Yup, impossible is the right word. But–" Oscar placed his hands on his helmet and lifted it off his head, dropping it on the ground without a care. He smiled, barely able to see through the ocean of tears, and stepped closer toward Fred one foot at a time. His friend wore a face of shock, and an unintelligible sound escaped his mouth, almost like a gasp and a yelp combined. "I'm alive. I'm alive, Fred. It isn't an illusion or some trick. It's me, Os."
"Os…is that truly, truly you?" His friend came closer until they were a mere foot apart, and Oscar realized just how much he had grown since then. When did Fred become so small? He rotated his head down, Fred being a few inches below him, unlike in the past when the other had the slight height advantage.
Out of nowhere, Fred swung his arm, his fist slicing through the air and landing on Oscar's face with a loud impact. His head snapping back, Oscar grunted and staggered but remained in the same spot as his feet were unmoved. Fred's fist was still buried in his face, crushing his nose, a spot of spreading itchiness and burning sensation rising up the bridge to his forehead, but he refused to move his hands to block or swat the arm away. He wanted Fred to let it all out. After the punch, his friend's harsh and ragged breaths heaved across the air.
"You bastard! If you were alive, you should have come sooner…." Fred shouted. His fist retreated back, and he embraced Oscar in a brotherly hug. Crying, Oscar hugged Fred back, and they thumped each other's backs with their fists and tightened their grip as if choking the life out of each other.
Twenty-some years. It had been so long since Oscar saw his best friend, his brother. The last time he saw him was when he kicked Fred away to the teleportation room to save him from the red root monster. The long years have not been kind to his friend and himself. To meet like this after everything he had been through, after everything Fred had gone through, was indescribable.
They separated and gripped their hand on each other's shoulders, tugging back and forth with tearful smiles. Oscar was about to say something when he remembered everyone else on the ships. The exodus wasn't finished yet, not until he guaranteed everyone had made it across. That was the promise he made to them.
"Fred, we have five ships of people, mostly civilians. We can talk all we want later. For now, we need to keep moving before the enemy can chase us." Oscar urged.
Fred laughed and sheathed his blades. "You've gotten taller, Os, but you haven't changed a single bit. Look over there." He pointed toward the west.
A fleet of airships donning the emblems and waving the flags of the Pavilion and Empire marched toward their location. The sheer military force of an Excrusier and other high-tier ships was on par with the enemy's. Oscar chuckled and wiped away his tears, only to be irritated as more formed without his control.
"They'll be taken care of. Come. Follow me. I can show you my lodgings." Fred swung his arm around Oscar's shoulders and led him away from the crash site.
Reni and Elias were flying upward and meeting with other powerful Marshal Exalts, probably discussing their identities and making a report. Many Exalts landed on the ground, either from flying or from landing airships, and conducted search and rescue. The civilians followed them to the airships and were sent to the Excrusier, the safest place they could be right now.
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Meanwhile, he followed Frederick through the Spiraling Willow Forest or what remained of it. So much had changed in twenty years. Many trees were uprooted, resting on their trunks, and many were simply missing, a series of random spots of nothing. It was highly unusual for the reputed thick foliage that was said to block out the two suns to create a world of darkness below. His feet crunched on dried mushrooms and withered algae, turning them into dust on the wind. The sunlight bounced and danced between the open spaces and branches.
"Remember this place?" Fred asked. Before him was a large mansion behind walls and a gated fence. If memory served him correctly, this house was the old Elire Estate. The house used to be worn down, boarded up, and nearly collapsing from age. But now, it was clean, reinforced by cannons on the roof and soldiers stationed near the gates.
"You turned this place into a headquarters?" Oscar felt conflicted. On one side, he understood it was necessary for war, but on the other, it was Abe's resting place.
"Outpost. Any important one to relay information straight to Artomos City." Fred waved to the guards, who saluted and let him through with Oscar. He apologized to Oscar, "Sorry, it looks bad, but they needed a place to use, and this was ready-made with old formations that only needed to be tweaked and activated."
Oscar entered the old mansion. Nothing inside had remained the same. Even the interior was completely reworked for the Empire's needs. Oscar strode across the hallways and followed Fred into a room with nothing inside except for a simple bed and a table with two chairs. Fred pushed the papers off the table and placed a bottle of wine and two cups. The liquid poured into the cup, each splash filling the air with its sweet grape scent, a pleasing aroma that calmed the heart and quelled the burst of emotions.
"Here." Fred placed the full cup on toward Oscar's seat.
Oscar sat down and removed his gauntlets and armguards, resting them near the corner of the table. Fred seemed to notice something, his head tilting to the side as his gaze focused on the ring on his finger.
"You're married?" His friend asked.
"I did. Quite recently, in fact." Oscar answered, rubbing the golden diamond on his ring.
Fred smiled and raised a cup, and Oscar responded by tapping his cup onto Fred's. They drank in silence until Oscar choked and coughed on the sudden bitterness attacking his tongue.
"Still can't handle your alcohol?" Fred laughed.
"And you're still the heavy drinker that I remember." Oscar placed his still-filled cup next to Fred's empty one.
"A lot has changed since then, and some things stay the same. Look at you. You're taller and married now. Is she not with you?" Fred tried to refill his cup, but Oscar stopped him and took the bottle away. He poured small drops until his cup was filled to the brim and poured for Fred.
"She's elsewhere. Listen." Oscar leaned forward, slightly drunken from the few sips he had. "I'm sorry I couldn't come back sooner. I should have been there for you and everyone else."
"It's not your fault." Fred shook his head and sipped from his cup. He glanced at Oscar and said, "It's not your fault. Tell me. What have you been doing for the past twenty years?"
Oscar retold the story of everything he had gone through. His mouth never stopped and never ran dry as he spoke every account of his years away. He recounted his imprisonment in Ashen Grove with Gol-4, meeting Erden and undergoing Blood Transmutation, the slaughter of the Grovekeepers, the destruction of the red root monster, and his eventual escape via teleportation portal.
Fred listened in silence, never removing his gaze from Oscar as he continued to tell his story. He told of how he first met his wife, Avril, smiling fondly from his own words, their journey through Shattirma, taking over the Burning Valley with Sevon and Adam, escaping and crossing paths with the Ancients, entering the Lands of Zeret and the Pools of Ascension, marrying and fighting in Convecia City, and leading the forces of Drakken Port.
The crystal lamp never lost its light, illuminating the room as brightly as when they first stepped inside. Oscar noticed his cup was empty and refilled it along with Fred's.
"Os…." Fred leaned forward and clasped his hand over the back of Oscar's neck. His voice tremored as he said, "I can't believe you're here after everything. Thank you. Thank you for coming back."
"I can't let my brother and others keep thinking I'm dead." Oscar gripped Fred's extended wrist and nodded. "I struggled and fought through armies and monsters, but my greatest fear was my memories would start to fade. It was pure agony to know I could barely recollect your faces."
"Whereas I never forgot yours. But it's always been my nightmare, seeing the last face I knew of you to be when the red root monster took you." Fred cried and downed his cup to the last drop. The idiot couldn't stop drinking. Well, he couldn't stop, either.
"Fred. There is no nightmare, not anymore. I'm here and alive. I'm just glad to see you are as well." He wanted to refill Fred's cup, but the bottle was empty. Somehow, Fred took out another bottle and popped the cork open. Oscar downed his cup and let Fred pour more wine into it. He didn't drink and rested the cup on the table. "How is everyone else?"
"That…is another long story." Fred placed the cup away from him. He started to tell his tale of the events after leaving Ashen Grove.