Chapter 83:The Elf's Soul (Part 2!)

A thick tension rose along with the gate. And all of a sudden, everyone and everything became quiet.

What stood before them was a long, black tunnel. One that seemed too vast for even the gate. While they hadn’t been inside before, they all knew something was off.

“...this is odd.” Bolato tilted his head and then shifted his gaze to the guards still at the checkpoint.

“It's a safety measure.” One leisurely responded.

“A safety measure? We passed through how many checkpoints, and this? This is a safety measure?” Skaldi strutted up to the guards and gestured by throwing his hair in the direction of the gate.

“You scared Skaldi? It’s only a little dark.” Walking up to the beginning of the tunnel, Valiato lifted her arm to touch the shadows of it. When she did, an unnatural dark fell on her arm. “Its, uh, not so spooky.”

“~Hmmm. I doubt they’d suddenly have something bad for us waiting here.~” Crossing his arms, Amir walked next to Valiato and almost started walking before Bolato grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait! Where will we see the paths?” Asking for simple directions, Bolato hoped he would get a clarifying response.

The guards shrugged.

“Oh…great.” Moving his hair with his thumb, Skaldi shook his head in worry.

“Well. There’s not much choice.” Bolato pulled the redhead by his shirt and dragged him to the gate. They all hesitated for a moment, waiting for someone to start.

Skaldi, with one shivering leg, started to walk.

Each of their steps echoed ever so slightly, casting ever more doubt in Skaldi’s mind. Why were they here? Especially with so many other people to choose from, what made them special.

But that wasn’t true, and Skaldi knew that.

What he really wanted to know was why he was here?

As they walked past the gate, Skaldi looked over his shoulder and saw the mass of people disappear from sight. He looked at his palm and then Bolato’s, thinking on the meaning of the colors. Did red mean he wasn’t going to do much? Or did it mean combat? What did the orange and green stamps mean? So many questions, so little answers.

As they passed through the gate, the party began darkened by the shadow of the palace, still having yet to see what was ahead of them. Whatever was ahead of them, would it really be enough? Will it make them better warriors, better thieves? Will they be made tools of the Oligarchy, or something more?

The Elf took a breath in and cleared his mind of any doubt. He had fought hard, proved he was more than what people saw of him. No Oligarch, No Tripoilan, was going to force him to kneel.

He was going to take control of what he could, and he would count on the others to do the rest.

When Skaldi exitted, he found himself in a tiny room. Glowing a soft gold yellow, there were diamonds that light like torches and a single chandelier. The oddest thing about the room was the man and the desk.

The man and the desk were strangely unmatching the colors of the room. Both of them are grayish blue, and somber looking. Everything else looked glorious and shiny. What else threw Skaldi off was where everyone else was.

And what I mean, is that Skaldi was alone.

“What the-” As he turned around, he saw that there was no tunnel behind him. Neither were Bolato, Amir, or Valiato. Not even a door or a hole. Just another wall, not any different from the others in the room.

“How did I-”

“Soul Gem.” The man spoke and Skaldi shifted to see him. This man was the least flattering Iozian stereotype possible.

With a light gray stubble, his mouth looked unhappy and dry. He wore Iozian armor but very loosely, and not like the guards from before. The helmet he wore covered his eyes, so Skaldi wasn’t sure if the man was looking at him or somewhere else.

He was slightly muscular, but he reeked of dirt and sweat. And in his hand was a long pot and ladle. As the man took the ladle, he opened his mouth and poured a purple wine into it. While Skaldi was disgusted by this man, he knew he was probably the only one who knew the way out.

“Uh… what Soul Gem?” Skaldi politely asked, unable to conceal his disturbance.

“A Soul Gem. That’s how you got in this room.” The man pointed with his ladle and continued to drink more of the wine.

“...of course. Now then.” Marching up to the man and his desk, Skaldi laid his hands flat on the desk. “How do I get out?”

“Well, you’re going to need to answer a series of questionnaires, along with a test, as well as a citizenship test.” The man placed the pot gently beside him before throwing a massive stack of paper right at Skaldi. “Then you’ll be able to start training.”

Skaldi managed to catch it but he immediately regretted it as he toppled down from its surprising weight.

“...uh… I only kind of know how to read? Can I get someone to help me or?” Heaving the papers off his lap, Skaldi raised his hand begging for help.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

“Reading is essential to this program, son. Along with strength.” The man didn’t bother to help Skaldi up, simply continuing to drink more wine from the pot.

Dropping the papers back on the desk, Skaldi stared down the papers. Like a white mountain ahead of him, Skaldi gulped and grabbed a random sheet.

“Self reliance, I assume?” Searching for a chair, Skaldi talked in the direction of the man.

“Indeed. That is the lesson. Along with reading.” Throwing a stool at Skaldi, the man did it in one motion before drinking again.

“...goodie.” Kicking the stool upright, Skaldi sat down and started to go through the papers. The man rolled a pen over to him and thus, Skaldi read through the various papers.

Most were waivers, about health and safety and how Oligarch Graham wasn’t liable to their deaths so long as they signed. You know, boring stuff.

“Well, I’m glad Graham is making sure he isn’t responsible for… spontaneous combustion and us being atomized.” Rolling his eyes as he read the many things that could kill him during training, Skaldi proceeded ahead with the papers.

“Hey, you never know when that could happen.” The man pointed at Skaldi before poking him on his forehead.

“Does it?” Slapping his hand away, Skaldi asked with a bit of worry.

“More than you think.” Resting back in his seat, the man smiled sadistically. Recoiling from this answer, Skaldi wondered if he should ask another question.

“...Do people survive being atomized?” He instantly regretted asking that question, knowing that the answer wasn’t going to calm him down.

“More than you think!”

The more interesting ones were about personal history. Not because Skaldi had to fill it in, but because they already knew so much about him and his friends.

Of course, most exactly details weren’t correct. The paper about himself had him listed as taller than Amir, which Skaldi couldn’t help but to laugh at. However, he was surprised to see that they knew about his relationship with his family and the Galtian tribe.

But there were only a few people who knew that, and most of his friends didn’t seem like they’d talk about it. Except for one, Skaldi knew. Turning to the back of the page, he saw a familiar blue haired friend.

“Wait a minute? You know about Potenti?” Lifting a paper, he saw the image of his old friend. Although he did care about her, never did he think that she was going to be recorded for his sake.

“The other elf lady? Yeah. She’s actually in the army now. That’s also how we know a lot about what happened in Fort Jao. Nice job, by the way.” Leisurely going over the details, the man set down the pot and flipped through some of the pages.

“Then why are you having me going through this?” Dropping his head slightly, Skaldi looked through his eyelashes at the man. He still didn’t get it, why the stamps, why his party in particular.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Leaning back in his chair, the man closed his eyes.

Believing he’ll find no answers from him, Skaldi scoffed and continued to sign and go through the papers.

“...why us?” He said softly, not believing in himself.

The hours dragged on, with Skaldi getting closer and closer to finishing all the papers. His fingers felt sore from writing, his eye weak from staring, and his head was heavy from reading. Skaldi hardly cared anymore, only wanting to get this done. Whatever training that was ahead of him, he didn’t think it would be worth it.

Everytime he looked on his paper, he saw the many injuries and mistakes he had made. His drunkenness, his anger, how he treated Vega when he first met her. All of it stabbed his heart every time he looked back.

“...this sucks…” Letting his head fall on the desk, Skaldi rested for a bit. He relaxed his hand and dropped the pencil, and closed his eye.

He waited for the man to do something. To chastise him for taking a break, to give him some kind of surprise. But he really seemed to be asleep.

Pushing himself up, Skaldi looked at the man and his pot of wine. He half wanted to chug all of it and go into a drunken slumber, and half wanted to throw it at the man for giving him all this asinine work.

Grabbing the mouth of the pot, he nearly lifted it off the ground, but he let it go and started to pace around.

The Elf felt alone. Not only because he didn’t know where his friends were, but where he stood. Stood on the level to the others he saw before.

He wasn’t strong like Bolato, he wasn’t as cunning as Amir, and he wasn’t as fast as Valiato. As he brushed his hair, he felt his eyepatch and his lost eye. Slowly taking it off, he felt a weight come off.

His mind went to Vega, of her struggle. Of the Voice that always talked down to her, always humiliated her.

But that wasn’t the voice in Skaldi’s head.

Rather, it was Skaldi talking down to himself.

From his parents, from the Iozians, from Runtaii. The voices from outside had always insulted him, for who he was and who he chose to be.

But Skaldi? He had become his worst enemy. Because he knew all of his own weaknesses.

“...maybe that’s why.” Standing wide and firm, Skaldi tilted his head at the man. The man was sour, odd, and hardly gave Skaldi much respect. Maybe that’s the test.

Instead of a test of knowledge, it was a test of will. To keep going. For him to look on all that had happened and instead of wincing and regretting, but smiling.

“Huh. Skaldi, you are one big fool.” Putting his eyepatch back on, he sat down and finished the last paper. If they wanted to break Skaldi’s will, they would have to do more than that. He looked over it all, the stories of his friends and their histories. Of how much they’ve done.

“Strength isn’t just muscle and bone. When really, it's the bonds you make with people.” He told himself and he knew it was true. He imagined Vega, doing her best despite what had been inflicted on her. So he would do the same.

“I and Vega were born like this. Look at how far we’ve come. We have something to prove, something to be.” Seeing the distance they have made, the journeys that were still ahead of them. Ani Arma wasn’t going to best them, Skaldi wouldn’t let that happen. “And that’s why I guarantee you'll never win.”

“...hhuh? What?” Suddenly waking up, the man fell backwards and sent the pot of wine crashing. Forgetting that someone else was still in the room, Skaldi blushed in embarrassment.

“Oh uh… hi?”

“What happened? What are ya… huh?” The man, still half asleep, didn’t have a clue what Skaldi was doing. Breathing in and clearing his throat, Skaldi got ready.

“I’m done. I’ve finished.” Crossing his arms proudly, Skaldi waited for the man to rise up.

“What? No you’re not, you still have to-”

“Listen.” Grabbing the man by his shirt collar, Skaldi made the man yelp in shock. Even though Skaldi was much shorter than him, he knew he commanded the situation.

“I know what you’re doing here. You’re trying to get on my nerves.” With a strong gaze, Skaldi let the man know what was up.

Smiling, the man relaxed and his demeanor changed. From a lazy and gross soldier to a calm and almost regal elegance.

“...understood. Son, who are you? And what do you have to prove?” His voice was smooth, as if he were built to rule. Skaldi felt it, now would begin his path to the future.

“I am Skaldi! And I’m the strongest man you’ll ever face!”