Chapter 16: Imagination

Lionel Childhood

Lionel stood quietly in the field, with the sun shining brightly on him, wielding his wooden sword that was torn and patched. He was alone, sparring with his imaginary foes, engaging in an epic battle during in the midst of war. With a fierce determination, he thrust his sword towards the unseen enemy, challenging them to fight. His movements were precise, each swing of the sword guided by the spirit of Spartacus. His heart pounded with fierce passion, echoing the tumultuous sounds of battle that rang in his ears. The wind billowed against his cape, the fabric snapping sharply with every thrust he made.

From afar, Rhiene observed with a smile tugging at her lips, smiling at every exaggerated movement made by her friend's dramatic performance. She giggled the way Lionel expressing his idea into movements as he fought his imaginary foes. Rhiene wondered if Lionel's bottomless thirst for knowledge was a trait inherited from his father’s unique personality or a product of the countless stories he had read since he was a child

“You look more like a clumsy goose than a gladiator,” she teased, barely holding back her laughter. Rhiene treasured these afternoons in the field with Lionel, where their imaginations ran wild as they turned into knights, warriors, and heroes, fighting off mythical foes and saving the day.

They both burst out laughing, enjoying the carefree moment together.

"Let's do it again!" Lionel cheered, raising his sword high.

Lionel exhaled deeply as the wind blew through his cape. He grabbed his makeshift shield and strapped it to his hand. His sword swayed gracefully in his left hand, while his right arm served as a shield for his face. This moment was his favorite part of the act, where he felt the rush of battle coursing through his veins, and the world seemed to be at his feet.

Lionel and Rhiene continued their game, with Lionel pretending to be Spartacus and Rhiene playing the role of a slave. They were in the middle of an intense moment when Lionel suddenly spun around and faced her in an open field.

"I like you," he declared, his voice brimming with sincerity. "I want you to be my friend."

Rhiene looked at him, a bit taken aback by the sudden change in tone, but she smiled nonetheless. "I want to be one of your friends too," she replied.

"All I ask is that you get along with me," Lionel said, resuming his role.

"What's your name, slave?" Lionel insisted.

"Spartacus," Rhiene replied, straining her voice to match Lionel's enthusiasm.

"I feel you don't like me," Lionel said aggressively, fully into his role. "Give me your sword."

Rhiene handed over her wooden sword, unsure of where this was going.

"Take it!" Lionel shouted, pointing his own sword at her.

"I have a feeling you want to kill me," Rhiene said, playing along.

"This is the only chance you'll ever get," Lionel prepared for an attack.

"Kill me!" Rhiene shouted.

But Lionel surprised her. "Don't be afraid, slave," he said, lowering his sword. "You have that sword."

"I only have this piece of wood!" Rhiene protested.

"Are you going to disobey me?" Lionel asked, still in character.

Rhiene hesitated, unwilling to let go of the sword. They both held their breaths as their eyes locked in an intense stare.

Finally, with a trembling hand, Rhiene lowered her sword and handed it over to Lionel.

"You're not as stupid as I thought," Lionel said, a hint of admiration in his voice. "You might even be intelligent. That's dangerous for slaves."

"Just remember," Lionel continued. "From now on, everything you do, I'll be watching. You did the right thing."

"There's no beauty in war," Rhiene spoke, urging him to see the broader picture.

"You're right, but in death, there can be beauty," Lionel sank into a pensive mood, his eyes burning with passion.

"The gods envy us," he said, his voice trailing into the sky.

"They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment may be our last. You will never be lovelier than you are now. And we will never be here again."

***

"You'll have to cut its ears if you want the task to be done correctly," Choppy said, handing Lionel a sharp dagger.

Lionel's face wavered as he stared at the goblin's lifeless body, its last moments marked by snarls and quivers. It was the first task he had taken from the bulletin board, and he was already regretting it. He had wanted to use the task as an excuse to flee from the camp, but who would have thought Choppy would volunteer to accompany him.

"I don't know if I can do this," Lionel said, hesitating to take the dagger. He hadn’t anticipated that the task would involve more than just killing. By now, retracing his steps back to camp seemed daunting, and there were far more worries he had to tend to. Once this was over, he would definitely stick to ruins and puzzle dungeons from now on.

Choppy placed a hand on Lionel's shoulder. "It's okay to feel remorse."

"No, Choppy. It's just insanity," Lionel implored as he stared at the dagger with anguished resolve. He could feel the blade slipping through the goblin's ears, its flesh squelching under the sharp edge. He shuddered at the sight of blood spraying from the wound, staining his clothes and the grass beneath him.

"And yet, you didn't waver to take the dagger from my hands," Choppy said with a solemn eye, observing the goblin's heart, pierced with a dagger by someone experiencing their first kill.

"The departed can't mourn their death; only the living has that luxury. For everyone to remember your name, either you are forgotten, or carved in a tombstone," Choppy said, recalling the orc's glory instilled in him.

"Numbness and death are different concepts," Lionel said, wiping the blood from the dagger with a piece of cloth, "but sometimes, the line between them blurs."

Choppy felt surprised as the words of a boy who's not even seen much of the world reached through him, "For a kid, you know more than you appear," he said in complicated expression.

"Let's go," Lionel calmly said, "There's nothing to see here."

But, as they prepared to leave, Lionel glanced curiously at the goblins behind them. Some of the goblins were scavenging the remains of the carcass, appearing more aware and civilized than those they had encountered before. The goblins wore garments made of animal hides and used rudimentary tools to carve the flesh, thinning out the scraps of meat with incredible precision.

The difference between these goblins and the ones they had fought came as a surprise to him. He had always assumed that goblins were nothing more than savage creatures driven solely by their primitive instincts.

One of the goblins offered Choppy a piece of meat, uttering words in a gibberish language. Though the language was unfamiliar to Lionel, he could still sense the goblin's friendliness and hospitality. But he knew it was just a disguise; the goblin simply hoped to be spared from Choppy's murderous aura.

Choppy's tusk gleamed menacingly and glared at the goblin with a disgruntled expression. The goblin reacted in fear for a split second but quickly regained its composure and began scolding Choppy in their own goblin language, wagging its finger at the food.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Bad goblin, bad goblin!" the goblin scolded Choppy, mistaking him for one of their own.

Lionel couldn't help but burst out laughing at the scene. He noticed that Choppy's small frame may have likely played a significant role in the goblin's confusion, causing the goblin to treat the orc as one of their own.

Choppy, on the other hand, was not amused. He snarled at the goblin, grunting in anger. "I'm not a goblin, puny fleshkin! Can't you see the difference?"

The goblin tried to squint its eyes, hoping to find the difference. But the goblin only scratched its head, trying to measure the orc's appearance compared to the other goblins. It tilted its head to the side and examined Choppy's tusk, the shape of his ears, and the color of his skin.

"You're not a goblin! You're...you're...an orc!" The goblin gasped, finally noticing the differences. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you, little orc!"

"Li-little orc-c?" Choppy growled, his aura growing more ominous with each passing moment.

Lionel nervously laughed when he noticed Choppy's burst of anger. He quickly stepped forward and placed his hand on Choppy's shoulder to calm him down. He couldn't tell if Choppy was truly angry or just being himself.

Lionel signaled to the goblin with a stern glance, and the goblin understood. It took a few steps back and kept a safe distance from Choppy. Once the goblin felt out of harm's way, it turned around and ran back to its group of friends who had been watching everything from the beginning. They laughed loudly at the goblin's misfortune, with one of them rolling on the ground in uncontrollable laughter.

"What?" Choppy angrily bellowed, "Are you just going to watch there and enjoy the fun?"

"I'm sorry," Lionel swallowed hard, "I didn't know the goblins would be this funny."

"Hmph," Choppy grabbed his axe and wobbled it over his shoulder, "Cute or not, don't let their ignorance fool you."

"Let's keep moving. The more time I'll spent here, the more I'll be tempted to crush this goblin's head," Choppy grunted.

***

"What's this?" Lionel held a strange object in his hand, examining it closely. "The structure is strange, and its hand seems to be pointing to this strange symbol."

"It's a calendar," Choppy replied, "Those things are common occurrences in zones, especially if an Astral tidal event is approaching."

"Astral tidal event?" Lionel asked.

"Aside from the Celestial Anima, there's also a natural phenomenon called Astral event," Choppy explained. "It's more of a wound that tethers its scars to the realm of the living."

"Where the boundaries between zones weaken, and anima floods into the physical realm," Lionel reiterated. "It sounds exactly like the Celestial Anima."

"There's a reason why it's called a tidal." Choppy intervened. "Because it's one of the most significant shifts in anima energy flow that occurs periodically."

"During an Astral tidal event, anima energy can become highly unstable, resulting in unpredictable and dangerous outcomes," Choppy grabbed the object instantly, examining it. "That's why it's important to be prepared and know how to handle the influx of anima energy during these events."

"That strange object?" Lionel felt his breath clogged in his throat as he waited for Choppy's answer.

"Money..." Choppy paused dramatically, then broke out into a grin.

Lionel felt a bucket of cold water splash over him, draining him of all the excitement. "Money? You're still thinking about money at a time like this?"

Choppy let out a deep, guttural growl, displeased with Lionel's lack of worth towards money. "What else do you think it's made for? It's an artifact, and so far, there's nothing valuable about it other than its history and cultural significance."

"Those strange objects are found everywhere during the astral event," Choppy continued. "Unless it can be used as an anima component, it's not worth much for the trouble.

"And that's my job," Choppy traced his golden tusk with his finger. "Aside from the Anurands, there's also the Keepers."

Lionel fell in thought, trying to recall what he knew about the Keepers. "The Keepers? If I recall correctly, the Keepers were the long-lost custodians that preceded the current Anurands."

"But as time persist in its infinite glow, the Keepers are nothing but a faded memory now," he added with a callous tone.

The keepers were known for their ability to echo the spirits of the past, tracing all the currents that course through the streams of time. It was not much of a surprise that the Keepers were deemed mythical, for their talents were said to surpass those of even the Anurands.

During their peak, the Keepers discovered the power of the totems, which the Anurands altered by using alchemy. If the totems are supplied with spiritual connection, then the lanterns are tools that illuminate the path that connects the living with the spirits. This change redefined the meaning of spirituality, claiming it to be an energy that could be harnessed and used for a specific purpose. Spirituality was no longer just an abstract concept or a vague belief, but a phenomenon that converged all the thoughts of sentient beings.

However, harnessing their energy and understanding them are two different things. If burning coals kept all our understanding of the world as physical energy, then the presence of the lanterns and their spiritual essence was like throwing water onto the flames. It changed the world entirely, with the world leaning to center its knowledge on spiritual connections rather than solely focusing on material aspects.

Once the Anurands introduced the lantern to the public, people began to change their focus away from the gods, rendering them a thing of the past. All it took was a single word and a language that restructured the entire understanding of the world. The keepers were now forgotten by time.

War had already receded from all aspects of life. No chaos or conflict remained since then. From the birth of Aeon, the world entered a new era of peace and enlightenment. It was only in zones that conflict and cruelty of nature still thrived. Empires ushered in Aeon's place, territories waiting to be conquered rather than warfare. Instead of the sword, it was now spoken word to word, gestures that sought understanding, and treaties that bound ideas together.

The dream came true when they learned about spirituality, a manifestation of will that supersedes the need for bloodshed. From this, anima acted as a spiritual spine that bridged the essence of countless souls together. Once the world knew of its secrets, artifacts, and tools were then made from this strange substance, and because such resources were easily accessible, the conflict ceased.

Cultures and disagreements used to be the source of conflict, but anima proved this concept wrong. It sought unity amidst the shifting balances that scaled the weight of ideologies. Thus, dogmas were strongly spoken, not as a tool of war, but as a force of will bound by anima.

"Bound by truth, bound by will. The fundamentalist principles."

The mantra of the Anurands.

The zone? Countless research and mystery are still at odds as to why such a dimension exists in the middle of Ulythes. If Aeon was merciful, why would he let a world so consumed by chaos exist? The keepers insisted that nature will always find its way to preserve its survival. We are born from nature, and so we are governed by it. Keepers thought that spirituality was just an invention, like all its tools. It replaces dullness with servitude, promising complacency, not courage.

Lust but not pride.

"What you resist not only persists but will grow in size."

The mantra of the keepers.

"Graghh," Choppy let out a disapproving grunt. "Bunch of impersonators trying to mimic their ways."

Choppy paused, then spoke slowly. "They lack the humility and respect for the spirits that the Keepers had. They see the spiritual realm as a means to an end, a way to achieve power and dominance. But the Keepers saw it as something sacred, to be revered and honored."

Lionel chuckled, "You don't look sacred to me, though..."

Choppy brandished his axe, giving Lionel a sharp glare, "The shamans have been practicing the culture of totems for centuries. Don't let their hubris cloud your judgment."

"Ahem..." Lionel took a step back, watching the orc with a nervous laugh.

"But still... Isn't it a bit too sudden to call the artifacts during the astral event worthless?" Lionel said in a low voice.

From what he could tell from the object they had found. The object wasn't just a simple calendar that determined the movement of the stars. But a mechanism that could accurately measure time. The intricate mechanism contained within the clock seemed to hold the same knowledge and logic from one of the book's layouts. Its design and the symbols behind it felt eerily familiar to him, with one of its wheels resembling the same accuracy depicted in his book.

Lionel still hadn't fully grasped the symbols portrayed in the book. However, at first glance, he could still notice that an instrument was involved in the clock's mechanism. Each gear was turned and interlocked with another, precisely measuring the passing of time.

The level of craftsmanship in the clock was impressive, with every detail designed to serve a specific purpose. The gears were carefully cut and polished, mounted in smooth and accurate rotation. Each gear's teeth were precisely angled and spaced to allow for maximum efficiency in the transfer of energy between them.

The gears were then arranged and interlocked with each other in a carefully planned sequence, allowing for the clock's various functions to be performed in a coordinated and efficient manner. The larger gears turned slower, while the smaller gears turned faster, ensuring that the clock's hands moved at the correct speed. From what it looks, each gear was fitted onto its corresponding shaft and secured with a pin. The clock's frame was connected to each other using metal rods, creating a complex network of interlocking gears that transferred power from the clock's mainspring to its various components.

"Time," Lionel softly spoke, "All creatures move according to time, just like how the clock works."

"What time?" Choppy bewilderedly asked, "Wait a minute, are you seeing things I'm not seeing?"

"It's a mechanism, Choppy," He winked.

Choppy eyes brightened, "This could sell for a fortune." The orc's grin curled wide as he counted all the possibilities of selling such a mechanism in his head.

Lionel skin crawled as he saw the orc's teeth warping his entire face into a savage grin. "About that... could you sell it to me?" he said, scratching his head.

Choppy's eyes fell into concentration, whether he should sell the mechanism or not, "Why not? But it's your offer if I should sell it to you or not."

Lionel snubbed a gold coin from his pouch, letting it glint in the sunlight. "How about this?"

Suddenly, Choppy's eyes widened at the sight of the gold coin. "Deal!" he cried, snatching the coin with a quick grasp.

Choppy caressed the coin in his hand, then bit it with his golden tusk. "Hehe, it's genuine. Alright then, it's a deal." He then handed the mechanism over to Lionel with a toothy grin. "Take good care of it."

"I'm starting to wonder why your tusk is made of gold," Lionel shrugged. "I'm not even surprised if it could buy a small kingdom."

"It's a good way to keep my wealth close to me," Choppy grinned. "If I feel sad, my tusk dims, while if I feel happy, it shines brighter than the sun!"