Five Days Until the Prophecy.

Looking in the mirror, Sorn noticed with relief that his scar had mostly healed. He had been out for quite a while, and just woke up. The last thing he remembered was leaving the Dome with the Marauders before passing out. He made his way downstairs, the room he was in being curiously the only one on the top floor. He was met with Oden and Serene, sitting on a table eating a type of meat he had never seen before. Oden waved to him when he saw them.

Oden: “Got enough beauty sleep. Come! You’ve gotta be hungry, and we just killed these goats out on the farms!”

Sorn cautiously made his way down, taking a seat next to Oden. He was surprised to see most of the men sitting not really paying attention to him besides initially greeting him and asking him an occasional question. His answers were more often than not, simplistic and eventually he found himself ignored. He looked towards Oden, watching viciously tear away at a leg before he noticed Sorn watching him and set it down, clearing his throat.

Oden: “Something bothering you?”

Sorn: “I thought you guys would be a bit more, well, apprehensive.”

Oden: “I can understand why you might think that. Truthfully, you’d have received such treatment in any other Subclan. That’s why I recommended you to us, the Marauders. We don’t really value anything besides strength. If you’re eating with us it makes you a brother.”

Sorn: “You’re really trying to tell me it wasn’t so you can keep a close eye on me?”

Serene, who was sitting two seats away from them gave a side eye as Oden chuckled.

Oden: “I guess you’re not that stupid. Fair enough. Come outside.”

He got up, leaving his seat and shaking his hands with a few of the other Marauders while Sorn discretely followed after him. The view before Sorn was, in a word, spectacular. The ice made structures were beautiful and structured to truly appear as a fortress, with clear landmarks that peaked above everything else. In his immediate surroundings was a long structure of ice houses, with the symbol of the ax he saw on Oden’s back plastered right in the middle.

Oden: “Up this way.”

They started walking up the mountain together in silence, with Sorn following after Oden’s lead. He watched the ground as Oden walked, putting his feet into the large footprints Oden was making. This was in part to distract himself from the awkward stares being given by anyone he walked past, both soldiers and civilians. He noticed the more up they went, the more distance they had from the large walks presumably made out of the stone of the mountain itself combined with ice that marked the edge of the fortress. Houses became less widespread, and there were less bases. It was as though they were leaving a military condensed area to a civilian. A man herding some goats waved happily to Oden, who waved back. The man turned to wave to Sorn, but instead had a double take upon seeing him, causing Oden to laugh as Sorn waved back awkwardly.

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A few minutes later, Sorn couldn’t handle this state of unknowingness any longer. He decided to be the one to break the silence.

Sorn: “What are we doing exactly? Where are we even going?”

He was starting to worry that Oden might lead him to a secluded place to “test out his skills”.

Oden: “Your arrival will be a catalyst.”

Sorn: “Huh?”

Oden stopped to look him in the eye.

Oden: “There’s a lot I do and don’t know about this place. But I know enough to make some conclusions. I don’t believe that you truly lost your memories, as convincing as your act may be.”

Sorn: “Uh huh.”

Oden: “I’d elaborate but it was pretty well explained in the Council meeting, but your arrival right before Keilan’s sacrifice after his siblings escaped to the outside is quite a coincidence. Also, his last sibling not only brought you but might be the only person in this Fortress that genuinely cares about Keilan enough to want him to survive. Though I don’t know how she plans to deal with the island falling.

Sorn: “If you believe all this, why did you save me?”

Oden started to walk again as he responded.

Oden: “I told you before, there is a lot I do know, but there’s a lot I don’t know. If you’re patient enough, I’ll make a pretty good case for you to follow. After all, we are skipping a day out of the Academy for this?”

Sorn: “I’m in the Academy?”

Oden: “Oh, did I forget to tell you that? Well, one of the top fifty students got conveniently injured. It only took a few strings to be pulled to get you in. We Marauders have great influence on the general public. With the Spear Subclans' great decline following the Dragon’s Escape, they are struggling enough just to keep their clan alive. They wouldn’t dare oppose us as they are now.”

Sorn had so many questions he didn’t even know where to begin. It was blatant that the student’s injury was no accident. But that paled in importance compared to what else was said. Before he could say anything though, they stopped at a statue of a beautiful figure. Its long hair flowed beautifully, as if carried by the wind. It was stuck in the process of walking, pointing towards the front like a general announcing his troops to attack. The most interesting part of the statue was, despite its presence and ambiance, the man had no facial features. No eyes, nose, or mouth. Just a blank face.

Oden: “Our God, Seraph. Tell me Sorn, what do you know about this deity?”

Sorn: “Just the gist I think. Defeated the Devil Lord, is sealed and offers his power on the ‘promised day’ to decide who inherits his power.”

Oden: “Yes, that’s correct. It’s also said he came from the sky, and our first Emperor Aelon was his biggest follower over a thousand years ago. But it’s been so long, we rely on word of mouth. It’s a story with nearly no credibility.”

Sorn: “So you believe this man’s existence was made up completely?”

Oden shook his head, pointing to the large bridge pointing over the horizon. It truly made everything else in the surroundings look dwarfish.

Oden: “That piece of work is all the evidence I need to believe in the story. There is a common belief in our Clan however. Something that has plagued our people since the start of the Fortress’s creation. The values the Spear Subclan hold so dearly. The uptight order and desire for absolute perfection. Aelon was an artist, spending most of his lifetime developing statues such as the ones you see here. There was a time where artists who couldn’t meet a certain standard were publicly beheaded.”

Sorn: “That’s horrible.”

Oden gave him an evil grin.

Oden: “We haven’t even scratched the surface.”

He held up his large arm, punching the statue, causing a crack to spread through its bottom left half, ending around the statue’s torso.

Oden: “The creation of our Subclan was birthed by a counter ideology. An ideology that true beauty lies in our imperfections. We were a chaotic force that opposed the ingrained values, and we were naturally met with opposition. Our values switched to breed soldiers and value strength to prosper. That may have kept us alive, but as you have likely seen through my father, our original values have been lost on us.”

Sorn couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu by this conversation.

Sorn: “So this is cool and all, but what’s the purpose of telling me any of this.”

Oden: “I’m telling you where your loyalties should lie. Besides, you’re one of us now. Might as well learn our roots. Anyways, keep following me. We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff.”

They walked a bit more in silence, until they reached a large building of ice. This was irregular for this high area of the mountain, and Sorn had no clue what to expect as he walked in.

End.