Reial’s world began anew. The gaping emptiness in his heart a hollow reminder of who he had been. Of whom he’d desperately tried to be. None of that mattered anymore, he was gone. Scorch was gone.

That thought stabbed his heart relentlessly, screaming and crying at him for being a liar. He wasn’t a great Strider like Hyvas or Vaes, nor was he an intellectual as a proper Aunesfernish man should be. He was just a scared child lost in the dark.

There was no one to comfort him, no one to guide him back into the light. No one to learn of his suffering. Only his accursed thoughts to echo them.

Why couldn’t they just hate him? He failed them again and again, yet they still loved him, knowing that he could never produce successful results. Did they think this would make him feel better about himself? That it would grant him the strength to stand back up?

“Reial…” Linithesis said.

Reial covered his ears in a futile attempt to block out his voice. “Stop, please. I don’t…I can’t right now.”

The Pneuma’s presence dimmed like a dying candle. He didn’t utter a response, but kept him company, much to Reial’s displeasure. Why was he bothering him at a time like this?

“Just leave me alone,” He muttered.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

Silence. Terrible, horrible silence ensued. The same one that haunted him day in and day out, waiting for the moment he was left to his own devices. When he was most vulnerable. Their whispers, memories.

“Open your eyes, Reial.”

He couldn’t bring himself to do that. The darkness, the silence. It would always be there. No matter where he went, no matter how far he traveled, they would always lurk in the back of his mind. Watching. Waiting.

Why not allow it to consume him? He had nothing left to gain. The happiness that had once been his, the lofty dreams he cherished as a child, those were all consumed by the abyss. So why was he still so afraid of it?

Gusts of wind tousled his hair as whips cracked in the distance, growing louder and louder until he feared they might crack at his feet. The air grew chill with frost, nipping at his cheeks like the final days of autumn. A chorus of muted murmurs arose from the shadows, some ranting about the property damage, others almost complimenting the destruction that had razed the land.

It didn’t matter to Reial whether these people lost their homes or not. Why should it? They could rebuild them with their very Essence if they knew of the materials All it would cost them was a fraction of their being.

But that wasn’t good enough for them, and so they continued to whine. Their incessant muttering clawing at his ears like a greedy nezerine. Hyvas, can’t they just shut up? What right did they have to complain? What did they lose that couldn’t possibly be replaced?

“Stars, countless stars.” Linithesis murmured. “I’ve never seen so few in the sky before. I remember what it was like when we weren’t a part of this world. Can you?”

Reial remained silent. Why bother with answering pointless questions? It didn’t matter. Regardless of what he said, nothing would change.

“Overly fond of the past, aren’t you? You were always a nostalgic one.”

A past partially remembered. A non-being who never was.

“We like to pretend that the past was easier than it is now. It’s a fine enough lie, though one I can’t live with anymore. Perhaps it’s because of my age, but I have come to accept where I am now.”

Accept? What was he supposed to accept? Was he supposed to be thankful to the Almagest for tearing away everything he loved? To not be bitter for the life he led.

“Who do we have to blame? Would it make you feel better if you could blame a God? Which one? Or would you rather blame me? Perhaps the others? Why haven’t we ascended yet? Were we not as coordinated as we could be?”

Linithesis paused. No, the voice had never belonged to him. It was much too masculine. Wise. Why couldn’t that dwelling voice leave him alone then? He didn’t want to talk about what was right or wrong, or something more philosophical. He just wanted to be by himself.

If only there were a transmitter that could steal him away from all this noise. Somewhere isolated, like the peak of the World’s Throne. Where there was no one to bother him.

“Open your eyes.” Linithesis finally said.

“No.”

“You can’t hide from it forever.”

Reial never could. He would try and ignore it, but it would continuously whisper in his ears like the mad rambling of a Nether Dweller.

“Hey,”

Why couldn’t they just hate him and leave him alone?

“Hey, ye all reit?”

Reial flinched as the voice rested something gently on his shoulder. It felt warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the chilly air. Like a blanket made just for him.

He didn’t deserve that comfort, so why did they continue to bother him? Didn’t they know that he could ruin them? That he would fail to meet their expectations. That nothing he did was ever good enough, so why try and prevent the inevitable?

Faded colors and dim lights greeted him as he pried his eyes open. Squat shadows gaped at him, some uttering curses, others examining the craters pocketing the street. In front of him stood a towering man with shaggy brown hair and soothing blue eyes. Of Thrasmanish descent no doubt.

“Urr ye hurt?”

Reial blinked. Those words didn’t fill him with the hope that he had dreamt of. Nor the joy that would make his heart flutter for release. He was tired. Tired and cold.

His strength, the one thing the world valued above all, had been drained from him. What was he without it? A husk of a husk? A being devoid of purpose?

The man frowned at his unresponsiveness then began to slowly guide him out of the crater. “C’mon, let’s get ye oot of thare.”

Reial stumbled along, his legs stiff against the unyielding earth. Had he finally been relinquished of his blessing? Did the Almagest see fit to grant it to someone who was more deserving of it? To someone who would finally put it to good use.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

He didn’t recall the flight to the spire or the icy blue dragon that took him there. Nor the twisting architecture of the halls as he was led to an isolated white room.

The door closed with an audible click as he stood staring at the Solvaylian Projection on the wall. Were they afraid that he would try to escape? Didn’t they know that he could break down the very walls of the structure with a flick of his fingers? Or maybe they just didn’t care.

“Nothing’s changed,” Linithesis whispered. “Even after all these millennia, it looked as it did then. Endona. The timeless city.”

The projection certainly was a magnificent display of the city’s grandeur. If he were still himself, perhaps he would even be impressed. The way the rings glowed like pillars of diamonds, the weathered Remnant standing vigilant in the gulf’s depths, and the palace stationed at the peak of the city.

What reasons did the ancients have for creating these marvels? Were they afraid of being forgotten, or did they want to build something to be aid generations to come? To be immortalized in their second lives as wanderers. As creators. As gods of craftsmanship.

Perhaps that’s why Recundians went to great lengths keeping their cities and towns spotless. Not because they were compelled to out of necessity, but because they wanted to honor the ancients for the gifts they’ve bestowed them.

Reial found the thought somewhat comforting. Even though they were long dead, even though their beings were wandering the stars, people still treasured their memory. Would he be granted that same luxury when he passed?

The doorknob rattled then clicked as the man from before entered the room. He was closely followed by a Khaantanese woman half his height. She bounced with every step, and despite her sharp critical eyes that were proof of her heritage, wore a smile easily. However, what really caught his attention was the flowing jacket resembling folded wings.

“Sorry, Ah hope we didn’t keep ye-” He stopped. “Have ye bin standin' thaur th’ whole time?”

Reial nodded.

“Ye do know thir’s a chair, reit?”

He nodded again.

“Well, caur tae have a seat 'en? Ah don’t want ye feelin' uncomfortable.”

The woman scoffed. “Uncomfortable? Kaval, he’s a dwelling Veil Strider, they can practically sleep standing up.” She looked at Reial for confirmation. “You can do that, right?”

Kaval sighed. “Marish, now's not th' time.”

“I mean, we did come all the way down here to interrogate him. It sorta is the time for this. Besides,” She glided through the air effortlessly, bands of churning ruby-sapphire energy twisting around her body as she came face to face with Reial. “I like learning new things about people.”

A Gale Glider? He hadn’t been expecting that. Then again, he couldn’t say he was surprised either. They probably considered him a great threat simply for being a Strider.

“I’m sorry about mah partner,” Kaval apologized. “She was th' only one available for yoor…case.”

The air shifted, becoming more oppressing as it bound him to his spot. Ruby sparks erupted from his boots, showering the room in brilliant red hues as he felt his hold on the ground slip. A reverberating snap echoed across the chamber as he was carefully lifted into the air. The walls, the chairs, the table, even the ceiling, and floor were all out of his reach. There was nothing he could use to support himself or wiggle out of its hold.

“Marish! What’d ye do that for? He wasn’t misbehavin'.” Kaval chastised her.

Marish forced a brief, distant chuckle. The glazed look in her eyes evidence of the abundance of Essence she had used to pry Reial from the ground. “I…just made your job easier.”

Kaval frowned but offered a nod of thanks before turning to look up at him. “Now then, may Ah have yer name?”

“Rail.”

“Your full name?”

Reial remained silent. He didn’t want to give away that much information, not yet anyway. Maybe he could still catch up to the Courser and then… And then what? Be defeated yet again? He knew he wasn’t a match for someone like him. Someone who’s probably lived through the last decades of the Unification Wars and fought in almost every battle. What hope did he have of besting him when one dwelling strike was all it took to knock him down?

“Whaur are ye from?”

“Yusanik.”

Kaval’s lips thinned to a line. “Ye aren’t bein' very cooperatife.”

Reial frowned. “I’m answering your questions. What else do you want from me?”

“Easy, we jist want tae know what happened at th' scene.”

“Fine. There was a complication. Someone tried stealing my drog and got away with it.”

“Can ye tell us more?”

Reial froze. He didn’t want to relive that moment again. Of the desperate drog’s whimpers as he struggled to escape, and of the heart-wrenching guilt that threatened to overwhelm him. Please. Please just let me be. Why couldn’t they ever grant him that luxury?

“Rail? Are ye okay?” Kaval asked.

The tone of his voice was pleasantly friendly. Almost as if he truly cared about what happened to him. That he wasn’t putting on this act only to lull him into a false sense of security.

“Yes.”

“Can ye tell us what happened next?”

Could he? He was a Veil Strider after all. Aiding others was the sole reason he had these powers. Powers that he had never asked for. Powers that continued to curse him instead of bless him. Was he not allowed to do as he wished? Think as he wanted to. Do what he pleased?

The world had been saved on countless occasions by his kind. Fought bloody battles and wars the likes which can’t be seen, and their only reward for their suffering was this. A hopeless wish for isolation and rest.

“Are ye well?”

Reial blinked. He hadn’t the energy to cry nor laugh at the question.

“Ye seem out of it. How much Essence did you use?”

The world revolved around that one word. It’s what drove the Empyreans and the rest of mankind to strive for a better future, to push for greater heights, but not him. His sister and Scorch were what kept him going. Now they were gone, and it was all because he was still too powerless to do anything.

“Ye don’t have tae talk about it if it’s too painful.”

Marish sighed. “Kaval…you never were one for this type of work.”

A sharp knock at the door cut his retort short. He opened the door and stepped outside, leaving Reial alone with Marish. Her green eyes appearing more focused as she examined him, nodding at something he couldn’t quite catch.

“Do you like being up there?”

“Does it matter?” He asked listlessly

Marish shrugged. “No, but it would’ve been nice to know.”

Reial closed his eyes and listened to the faint humming coming from his mind. No, it wasn’t humming, but Linithesis speaking. The Pneuma was reciting a line from Elegy of the Ancients.

“Were we always so fragile? Powerful, knowing, and yet so easily forgotten. Like glass idols offered at an altar. Weren’t those that came before us equally terrified? Were they not whole of body and sound of mind? Did they, too, fear their inevitable deterioration?”

“You know, you and that girl remind me of someone,” Marish said aloud.

Girl? Could she possibly be referring to Zariya?

“The delicate color of your hair, the way you both scowl. You could almost pass for the Aunesfernish governor’s children. Perhaps her more so. She did cause something of a ruckus when we went and interrogated her a while back.”

Reial perked up. “What?”

“Yeah, she kept going on about some weirdo and her drog. Don’t know how that has anything to do with tearing an entire street from its foundation, but whatever.”

Relief washed over him. Charette was still here. She hadn’t been taken away like Scorch had, but why? Was their father’s request so important that the Courser chose to ignore that they were runaways? Perhaps he didn’t even know at all.

It left Reial with more questions than answers. Who was this man? What was his reason for honoring their father’s request? Were they old friends? Business associates even? Coursers were known for doing their jobs quickly and precisely, not hanging around and chatting with their targets. Could it be that he was no Courser at all? Reial wondered.

A knock at the door stole Reial’s attention as he turned to see who it was. With a click, Kaval entered the room again, this time holding a stack of papers. All of which were stamped with a red print reading “permitted”.

“Yoo’re free tae go.” He announced.

Marish cocked her head. “Already? It hasn’t even been more than five hours.”

“If ye want tae complain, ‘en go complain tae th’ governur.”

Kaval dug inside his pockets and revealed a pair of ornate silver bracelets with the symbol of the Empyreans carved onto it. “She wanted tae give ye these as thanks.”

“Thanks?” Reial said. “For what?”

“Apparently, th' city block ye destroyed was scheduled for demolition sometime later thes week. So yoo’ve done 'er a service by doin’ th' work yerself.”

Reial blinked. “I, umm…you’re welcome?”

A stream of ruby sparks dripped from his heels as his feet made contact with the ground. The slow descent making his stomach rise. He unsteadily approached Kaval, eyeing the bracelets in his hand.

“What’re those?”

“They’re Absent Integrators. Governur didn’t want ye leavin' without bein' properly rewarded first.”

Reial arched a brow. “Absent Integrators?”

Kaval nodded.

“And she’s just giving them to us?”

“She thooght yoo’d put them tae better use with yer level of skill. 'At, an' they waur gatherin' up dust in 'er closet.”

Reial stared at the devices for a moment longer before he hesitantly accepted them. They were cool to the touch, though they didn’t disrupt his Essence as he thought they would. There was no underlying anomalous effect, no greater power stored inside the precious metal. Nothing. They were completely ordinary, like a rock he might find along the road. Perhaps that was their mythic charm.

“Even if our world’s end, is it not our lingering will that allows us to begin anew?” The voice rang in his mind. “Is it not the burning stardust within our hearts that lights our dreary minds?”