"Waybreaker"

Veiled Sky

__________________

—----

Illustria

April 18th, 11,901 AC

11:47 AM

Dust departed from a carriage with nothing on his person besides his staff, his pendant, and some survival equipment. He made off from the tail board, dropping down from its ledge and letting his boots fall into the lush soil of the Illustrian countryside.

All around the boy was a bright field of green, everywhere the eyes could wander. Pilgrims in the region often call upon the rolling hills of Illustria as their reason for awakening to their spirituality in the first place. The influence of Gestus was high wherever the hills were, and yes, even the man who had steered the carriage had a small necklace with a cloud pendant at the end. It dangled down into the sunlight as he waved his goodbyes. “This neck of the hills never was too popular with folks,” the man warned. “You can thank them ruins for that one. I’ve heard some strange stories fro’ this area... Eh, whatever the case, keep your wits about ya’.”

Dust managed a simple nod, a gust of wind blew through, then the carriage was off, back over the hills from whence it came.

Unlike his previous excursion into Durham, the boy now had equipped with him a proper bag. A large mess of leather and straps, prepared with clothes, bedding, and other supplies, hung heavy on his shoulders. The sun also hung over him. Though large as it were, it was not nearly as heavy. A cool Illustrian breeze washed most of the heat from off of his back, keeping his bag feeling light and his legs feeling quick.

Before him stretched hills of dandelions and daisies, gray and yellow, melding together over the mess of green. The sea of vegetation seemed to stretch on to the ends of the earth. And he knew not the distance of his destination, only the direction.

He drew his wooden staff from his back and let one end fall onto the dirt. As he started his trip over the countryside, he kept it at his side as a walking stick. It wasn’t much of an aid, but he had quite the walk ahead, so any help was appreciated.

Enlightening though they may be, the hills could only inspire so much, and Dust had long tired of them many years ago. They made him think of things he’d rather not, echoes caught on the prairie wind. He dismissed the thoughts quickly though, and begrudgingly persevered through the sweat and dandelions.

He passed schools of sheep, goat, and other species of mammal he hadn’t yet learned the name for. Passive creatures that didn’t seem to bat an eye at the ape prancing around. They went about their business grazing, giving him a few odd looks here and there. Though he truly paid them no mind. Even they were not enough to mend the monotony of the grasslands.

Eventually he reached a tree, alone atop a hill. Next to the tree, dug about its roots, was a small pond, tucked away neatly under a slip of the earth. The boy bent down and dunked a waterskin into the source, refilling the container to its brim. He took a great many sips, dunked the skin back into the water, then sealed it back with its cork.

Dust figured just under the tree would be as good a place as any for a bit of a rest. He sat his bag and his back against the base of the tree, then spread open a map.

“Starfall,” he noted, reading the name of the region he was in. He focused at a specific point on the paper. His eyes traced down a river, up a mountain, and then down past the winding hills. “So I must be around here,” he thought as he pressed his finger against the map. “If I recall, when I went back to ask the old man at the shop where he had got the Wayfinder from, he told me to head to the middle of The Starfellen Valley, and to look for a city of logs…” Dust scratched his head. “People who answer in riddles confuse me.”

The boy stood up from his resting place, grabbing his things and leaving the shade. The hills were calling, and he still had a few hours before sundown, so he figured he should use most of them walking.

The rest of the day was rather kind. After one last steep set of hills, the terrain seemed to plateau, and Dust came to a stretch of endless grass. Here the sun was not as kind as it had been before. There was less atmosphere between the traveler and the sky, so the great ball of fire was able to grasp him with more of its rays. Beads of sweat formed over his forehead.

Eventually though, as the sun hid itself over the distance, and the sky soured to a tangy scarlet, Dust felt his body begin to cool.

A river of pink meandered through the sky, chasing down towards the sun and burning away at the rest of the blue that remained. A great chill blew through, then, as the fire in the sky was completely extinguished, and it fell from purple to black, the chill became a cold, and the last of the lingering warmth seemed only to come from the field of stars burning away in the sky.

Dust undid the buckles over his shoulders, and let his bag and accompanying satchels slip to the dirt. He removed a set of sticks and cloth from his belongings, then set up a small tent alone in the grass.

He unfastened the straps to one of his bags, and pulled out a singular red stone. Engraved into the rock was a large ‘plus-sign’, carved with black markings.

Other than the design carved into it, the stone was rather unsuspecting. It was just an ordinary rock. Red, but not shiny- Perhaps its color was better described as an ember, like tree-sap. It was the size of a small candy, though it was rather heavy. The boy inspected it closely before daring to pour any ‘voice’ into it.

“I hope Gestus doesn’t mind if I use this…”

The boy sat deep within the confines of his tent, keeping out the wind with its walls, and clutching tightly onto the stone. He poured his will into the rock and felt it react with an intense heat. He held it close to his chest, and let it resonate with a warmth that seemed to defrost his heart and soul. He wasn’t too cold, too hot, or anything of the sort. He sat in a perfect state of comfort, almost letting the resonance from the stone take him somewhere else, far along the reaches of consciousness.

But just as he felt his soul depart, it was soon sent crashing back into reality when he heard a horrid scream.

“SCRYAAAAH!” It resounded through the walls of cloth with a pitch that pierced the ear.

It sounded like it had come from just outside, so the boy quickly tossed aside his covers and leapt through the flaps of his tent.

He rolled out to the grass, and turned to face back from where he had come. Standing there in the dark of the night, barely illuminated by the moon behind the mist, was a slender woman. Though, it may not be appropriate to call her a woman in the typical sense of the word. Her skin was translucent, and reflected the lights of the stars all around her. She was blue, like water, and seemed to be in a constant state of motion. Whatever she was, her form was alien to the white-haired boy. He looked towards her with caution, and gripped his staff.

“SCRYAAAAAAAHH!” The figure screamed again, though this time even louder and more piercing than before. “It is a terrible disrespect to reside so close to the capital, yet sleep amongst the cows!” It hollered down to him.

Its true voice, the one it used for speaking, was actually rather pleasant. It was the voice of a deep-gutted woman, heavy, but not coarse. Though it sounded hollow, as if filtered through something.

“The capital?” Dust questioned. “The capital ain’t anywhere around here…”

“Starfell is just over into the next valley, hidden under the horizon,” the figure spoke. “It’s the capital of Illustria!”

Dust’s head turned to the side. “No, the capital of Illustria is Halidon. Rather far from here, actually.”

“Don’t be disrespectful! All have heard of the Palace Under the Stars!” The figure shouted with a groan of power that flooded the moonlit grass, pushing Dust almost into a kneel.

It was a feeling unique and hard to describe, like a vibration with a weight that forced down onto you. The boy looked back up at the gelatinous woman and gripped his staff without removing it.

“I am Apostle Azure,” the creature spoke. “Surely you felt my power just then. I am one of the sacred defenders of the holy land, and as such, I have been granted with many blessings. You should very much like to avoid being on my ill side.”

“Ill side?” The wanderer questioned. “All I’ve done is sleep out here under the stars, disturbing not a soul.”

“That is exactly your sin. As I said before, it is a terrible disrespect to rest so close to the capital, and yet lay just outside of its borders.”

“What kind of rule is that?” Dust fully removed the wooden weapon from his back, and twirled it to his side. “And who are you anyway? Apostle Azure? What is your job to roam the countryside and harass people? If you know what’s best for you, you need to walk away... I’m not someone you should be getting involved with.”

“Hmm,” the apostle huffed. “Perhaps I have gone about this the wrong way. I have come off harshly, but I only wish to see you secure within the borders! It is not a far walk from here.”

The boy’s head cocked to its side. “And I’m supposed to just follow you? After you’ve called me disrespectful, and a sinner no less. After you’ve shouted, and woke me up?”

“Yes,” the abomination replied dryly. “We must be hasty or else her majesty will be frustrated. Since you are a foreigner in these lands I am sure she will require an audience with you.”

“Hm,” the boy dropped his weapon to his side. “I don’t fully trust you, but I’d certainly like to see this capital you're so proud of. I’ll go with you without a fuss, as long as you tell me what you are.”

“What I am?” Azure chuckled. “I am an elemental, a clone borne of my Queen’s voice, and a sworn protector of Starfell. As an Apostle it is my duty to spread the word of Our Lady, and to welcome you to the land under the stars. So please, follow me.”

“Mhm,” Dust returned his staff to his back and sunk his hands into his pockets. “So where is this capital of yours?”

“I told you, it is very close. Just over the horizon.”

“I see,” Dust nodded. “Just give me a moment and let me gather my thi-”

Before Dust could finish talking, The Apostle turned her back to him, and started marching out into the lightless fields. Without a word, she delved into the darkness, expecting the boy to follow behind.

He rushed out to catch up, and he too fell into the blind night. His only guide was the occasional cricket reminding him of where the ground was. Oh, and the stranger right in front of him who could’ve been leading him to literally anywhere.

Dust started to question his sanity. He had left his tent behind. With the way the woman rushed out, the only things he was able to grab were his water canteen, his weapon, and his heating stone, which he held close to banish the cold.

It was quite frigid out, and honestly he doubted that he could've even withstood the temperatures if it weren't for the rock.

Though the cold didn’t seem to bother the Apostle. If it did, she didn’t let it show. Not a gripe, not a shiver, not a shake, and certainly not a word. The loud and stubborn woman had suddenly gone quiet. In fact she said nothing for most of the walk.

The boy was left to listen to the ambiance of the night, and to surf on the midnight wind. He wasn’t sure if it was the spell of the hills, or if rather he was really that close, but the walk seemed to end before very much time had passed. It ended before any anxieties too great to mount formed in the young man's mind.

Eventually the pair came to a clearing in both the mist, and the ground. The plains dropped low into an expansive crater, and the darkness slipped away. Dust could not only now get a good view of the liquid woman before him, but also of the entire valley beyond her.

The haze of the night cleared suddenly, and bright starfields and nebulas spun about in the sky. It was dazzling, unlike anything the boy had ever seen. The path took them lower, but he felt closer to the night sky than ever.

Before him was an impossible view. There were cities of old, long left to ruin, dotting the countryside. Destroyed towns, and burned villages sloped around the bay, eventually cascading down into a central city of stone, also long left to ruin.

The view was so clear and starlit, that he could see into the tiny details of the cities across the naked and expansive valley. Most of the buildings were left in complete ruin, nothing more than a pile of rubble. But a rare couple stood halfway, or even more complete than that.

Though, amidst the destruction and standing strong in the middle of the central city was a mighty palace. Some of the structure had withered or been burned away, but most of the powerful fortress remained. It had a series of five tall towers that seemed to be grasping at the moon, like fingers on the palm of the main castle structure below. Though two of the towers were knocked down, and one seemed hardly livable.

“What is this place?” The boy couldn’t help but ask.

“This is the Starfell Valley!” The Apostle answered in a fake excitement. “‘This is the only land in Illustria gifted by Possieda, the one true Angel.”

Dust looked about, confused. He had seen crazy things on his journeys, but nothing so inherently jaw dropping. “Long ago, during the middle ages, when Illustrian law forbade the worship of any other than The Father of The Sky, most of the remnants of the other churches were slaughtered.” The boy started. “I thought that Possieda worship only existed in small churches in this country. I had no idea that a bastion of Lihtan religion had remained here.”

“She is the lady of the seas, navigation, and the stars, and she carved this blessed land out with the eastern ocean long ago.’ That is a direct creation quote from our scripture. We were born blessed by the lady. She is the most gracious of lords and her love is easy to gain, I am sure if you ask for her blessing she will give it to you.”

“So you guys are pretty intense… With the religion stuff.”

“Because we are thankful,” Azure sang, sounding eerily alive for once. “We are so thankful for our Angel and our majesty.”

There were other details in the valley, points of interest yet unexplored. Though the elemental proceeded without leaving time for digestion, Dust was forced to keep moving. At times he jogged to keep up.

Just as he began to tire, he saw that the two had now ended up at the beginning of the ruins. Wooden houses started to surround him, popping up in small numbers at first, then grouping up in larger quantities further down the trail. They were mostly left to ashes. Some buildings kept their frames if they were lucky, but the majority were only merely recognizable by their ashen shape on the ground. Eventually, the houses waned, and the grass on the ground turned to gray bricks of stone, covering the dirt that was.

The pair had reached the central city, and the buildings that now lay in their view were made from quarried stone, and held their original shape better than those from the rural road. You could hardly call the structures livable, but at least they would offer some protection from the elements.

After looking down from the stars and paying attention to his surroundings, Dust noticed men and women, all made from the same reflective water as Azure, hidden about the streets. They appeared to converse, and to walk about, though nothing they did seemed to have any meaning. Somehow the elementals had virtually no presence. Dust had barely noticed them. Their silence sent a chill down his spine, something about their very existence was disheartening.

With the grim appearance of the surroundings, the wanderer finally realized this self-proclaimed Apostle was truly mad. He wondered now, and not for the first time, if he was being led into some sort of trap. If he were, it seemed far too late to make an exit.

Azure led him down a sort of main-street. With the strange humanoid inhabitants in abundance here, there was also the largest number of standing buildings. The water creatures walked about, moving in stiff patterns, and interacting with the world in ways that meant nothing. Their presence became an afterthought, and Dust was left to look at the palace which sat looming at the end of the road. Its towers pierced the nebulas in the sky.

The building commanded a presence, and now that the wanderer was close enough, he examined its stained glass windows, and complex columns and arches. The main structure of the castle was a church. It was an obvious example of Lihtan architecture, even though the rest of the town resembled something closer to home for the boy. The city up to this point was dark and gray, but the marble of the building was white, a color of stone that did not come in abundance in this country.

The Apostle charged forth past the grand entrance, and fell into the walls of worship. The foreigner tried to chase after her, but he had been distracted for a while, taking in the architecture, so he was quite late. He rushed up the stairs, causing him to trip a little, before recovering and pressing the door ajar.

A long line of pews took up the entrance hall. There were few torches. The primary source of light in the castle came from the stars above. A large pane of glass separated the ceiling from the naked wind outside, and exposed the entire service to a vast array of bright cosmic bodies. Thanks to the stars, Dust could see, though he could not spot The Apostle anywhere. He scanned up and down for the strange woman, but not a soul could be found.

At the end of the seating, on a high stage at the opposite end of the church, stood a tall and powerful statue. It was a woman, commanding below her a mighty wave and holding above her a giant star. The boy thought it clear that this must be the Starfall people’s depiction of Posseida. He examined it close before getting bored and returning to his search for the woman.

The floor of the hall echoed with every footstep. Each clack of Dust's boots was sent forth from the marble, and left to ricochet down the entirety of the hall. He looked around to make sure that he wasn't disturbing anyone, but not a soul resided there in the place of worship.

The boy peered down halls, circled around columns, and searched the pews top to bottom, but he could find no Apostle.

“Didn't she say that there was an audience required of me?” Dust scratched his head, then looked side to side. “Azure! Azure!” He called out.

Despite his shouting and stomping about, the church remained absolutely silent besides the boy. He had stirred up quite the ruckus. Yet, he could find no Apostle, and certainly no Azure.

He was left alone in the center of the hall, standing between the pews. His only light now was from the stars above. Of course they shone all around the room, but they did so poorly. Even in this blessed valley, the luminescence of something so far away could not possibly hope to reach all of the nooks and crannies of such a building.

Though there was one area the light seemed quite fond of. It fell over this one spot in particular with a cascading river of its essence, as if its very being were somehow drawn there. Chosen by the light of the stars, was the statue of Posseida that Dust had noticed before. Further away there was more torchlight, and thus it was easier to miss starlight's bias. Though now that he saw it up close, he felt there was something about her figure that was genuine. A warm embrace borne of the chilling light, grasping out to him with an otherworldly grace. He felt it take him for a moment, hold him, and then plead to him for something. But he could not understand its voice. He was surprised, but he did not shun the feelings. He let them come, torment his mind, and then pass. All the while he stared unto the statue.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

His mind fell somewhere. He could see fire and ashes. He could see blood and rain. He could feel terror and smell fear. In the midst of the waves of destruction, there was someone crying, but he could not see who through the smoke. Their cries were visceral, haunting even, and they continued to shout and moan and groan and scream until they were interrupted by the sound of a church organ. It played a slow and violent tune, loudly. Much noisier and much clearer than anything had been in the visions up to that point.

Soon Dust fell back to the church. Once again he could perceive the halls of marble and he was back staring at the statue as if nothing had ever happened.

Though as it continued to play, albeit now a much merrier tune, the wander realized that the organ he had heard wasn't part of the vision, it is what awoke him. He looked around, side to side, trying to find where the sound was coming from. But it was only when he stopped to turn all the way around to the other side of the hall that he noticed a tall balcony, seated just below the rafters.

Situated in that balcony was a truly grandiose pipe organ. It had many pipes, each polished to shine gold. These pipes also seemed to share some of the starlight's bias, same as the statue. In fact, the entire organ was particularly heavy with the chilling light.

Just in front of the instrument was a dainty little seat. Sitting upon the throne, with one leg kicked over the other, was the lady Azure. She played away at the keys with a surprising grace. It was almost too lifelike the way she played, and the tune that escaped from her organ was strangely too engrossing.

Dust wondered if he had perhaps been led to his demise, and now he was to be put under a spell and to never wake again. Or maybe he was just dreaming. It was a believable enough nightmare, with the way it began abruptly after he fell asleep, and how it seemed to only get stranger as it wound on. But no, this was real. He was here and he was sure of that.

He was here and his search for Azure had concluded. His gaze lingered on her as she played. It had never left. Though it would be impossible to tell what he felt in that moment, for his face did not reflect any emotions, if he felt any at all. He kept watch for a time, though her song seemed far from over. She slammed away at the keys with a higher intensity now, and the attitude of the song changed from an entrancing lullaby to an explosive anthem.

The bombastic number was soon accompanied by the clacking of heels. A strange percussion, out of rhythm and reverbing with a harsh click. Strike after strike, a stressful reverberance about the entire service.

Soon the foot-held instrument's owner was revealed. A fair mistress, young and slim. Quite proper too. She had a blue dress, frilly on the arms, poofy on the hips. The bottom of the dress reached the ground, lightly caressing the reflective flooring.

The lady approached Dust. She walked with a swift earnestness, stepping hard all the way until she reached the stage in the center. She stood under Posseida and basked in the starlight for a moment.

The boy could finally see her face from out of the shadow. She had long blue hair, down to the small of her back, and long bangs brushed back over her ears. Her features were small and her frame was compact, but she carried herself with a large confidence. Atop her proud head was a crown, sharp and pointy in design, but conservative in its size. It was gold, but winked with aquamarine.

Her clothes reflected a high position, but she looked a year or more younger than Dust. Though, he figured that this was the leader which was mentioned briefly prior. The woman opened her eyes and made perfect contact with Dust's. Her gaze was blue, deep. It felt like both the starry sky, and the deepest recesses of the ocean. The wanderer was taken by it.

“Hello there,” she spoke. “We don't often get visitors here on this shining coast… I hope your stay is a warm one, though I do have some questions for you.” The voice of the girl was surprisingly high in pitch, squeaky and harsh, though she talked with manners. Dust gave her a simple nod of acknowledgement to let her know she was free to continue with her questioning.

“Where are you fro-” She started, though she was interrupted by a sudden shift in chord from the organ.

“Quiet down, Azure!” Her heel stomped into the ground. “The entrance hymn should have long ended by now! You dolt! Play the melody of conversation, now!”

Without a moment's waste, the all-encompassing instrument transitioned from emitting its tense and building waves, to a lighter and much merrier tone. It assumed a position in the background, and the blue haired woman took the center stage. “Now, where were we,” she smiled.

“Ah yes, I remember... I believe that I was asking you where you are from?”

“I'm fro-”

“Though I would like to change my question,” the crowned lady interrupted. “I meant to ask you, where did you come from.”

“Hm?” Dust stared. “Why change your words?”

“To ask where you are from is small talk. I have no need for such things. To ask where you come from implies that I also want to know why you are here. I'm not interested in your past, heritage, or anything like that. I simply want to know why a foreigner has come out here to the brittle ocean so far in the east, and why he sleeps just outside of my land, forsaking our hospitality.”

“I didn't mean anything by sleeping there, hell I didn’t even know that this place existed.” He shook his head. “I really can't see how you would find it offensive.”

“Way to beat around the bush!” The royal whined. “Nobody comes to a place as far out as this without a reason! You don’t seriously expect me to believe that you’ve somehow just ended up here! I don’t buy it!”

“Far out?” Dust’s head tilted to the side. “But I thought that this was the capital?”

“And that it is!”

“Hm,” he stared. “But if this place really is as rare to visit as you claim, and if this place really is so far from the rest of civilized Illustria, then how is it a capital at all? If you ask me, this place seems like nothing more than a city of the past. What’s your gain here? Are you a criminal of some sort?”

“Criminal!” She shouted, not necessarily as a question, but as a confirmation with herself to see if that was really what she had just heard. “Criminal? Criminal… Do you know who you are speaking with!? I am Princess Lyanne Starfell, and I will not take your slander of this holy city so lightly!”

“Way to beat around the bush,” Dust stared. “If you recall, I asked how this ruin was the capital.”

“I didn’t beat around the bush! I hadn’t got to your question!” She defended. “This is the capital because it is! There is nothing more to it than that!”

“A capital isn’t chosen so haphazardly.”

“Be quiet!” Lyanne pointed. “Your insolence has run on too long! Tell me! What is your pantheon!?”

“The Church of Gestus, Illustria Sect.”

“Gestus? Illustria Sect!? There is no Illustria Sect. Hah! No wonder you are so insolent! You are one of the traitors!”

With the last comment, Dust realized that the Apostle was certainly not the only madwoman here. This entire ‘city’ was strange and Lyanne was just another example of mad. “Traitors?” The foreigner asked. “Have you gone insane? You aren’t that young, surely you were around for The Trials.”

“Trials? What trials?” She blinked.

“The Illustrian government called the other pantheons warlocks and ghouls, then tried to forcibly remove them from this green isle. Perhaps that is the tragedy that befell this valley… You do seem to be soaked quite deeply in the love of Lihtus’s Lady, I’m sure your bloodline was a target.”

“The key word in your sentence is tried! They attempted to conquer this valley, but the love of our lady was too strong! We defended our walls valiantly, and our people have thrived until today!”

“People…” Dust glared. “What people?”

“...”

“I’ve seen no people. Ever since I arrived here I’ve seen nothing but elementals, walking around and posing as citizens.” Lyanne stumbled back. “Is that your doing? Is that your magic, perhaps? What is this place? Is this some work of witchery after all?”

The princess shook. “You’re just like the rest of them.”

The wanderer stared at the woman, though as usual, his expression remained neutral.

She gave him a twisted glare in return. There was a genuine wrath there. He could feel a defensive bloodlust, building around him like a cage. She breathed deeply for a moment, her posture falling a little. But, she composed herself quickly, adjusting her collar and returning to character.

“Tell me then, traitor. What have you come here for?” She asked with a stiff smile.

“I was directed to come here to the Starfell Valley, and to look for a city of logs. If you know anything and would be willing to share, I will hear you out, then swiftly take my leave. If not, I will just be out of your hair.”

“A city of logs? I suppose we have something like that here,” the princess giggled. “Though, do not be mistaken. You aren’t going anywhere. You are going to convert from that piss-poor bumpkin religion, accept the love of her lady, and live here until the end of your days!”

Dust remained silent and let Lyanne's sentence float out into the air, uninterrupted. It hung there for a moment, until her grin fell and she opened her mouth once more.

“If you really do choose to be like all the unlucky adventurers before you, and defy my wishes, then I will kill you here and create a devout follower in your memory!”

“Please,” Dust muttered, dipping his head down. “There might be something I need here. I don’t want to have to consider you someone that's in my way.”

“Someone that is in your way?” She laughed. “You are in my way!”

The princess snapped her finger, and the ‘melody of conversation’ came to a screeching halt. The organ fell away into the faint whispers of notes long past, and the torches all around were swept into the darkness, one by one. Even the starlight waned, and the room was left to simmer in a lukewarm black.

Dust looked side to side, but it was pointless, nothing could be seen. His visibility was zero.

But certainly something could be heard, for there was a pitter-patter about. Something was approaching, and fast. He pulled his staff from his back and twirled it to his side, prepared to defend himself, though without sight he was practically naked.

“I thought that the stars were out, how could it even become so dark?” Dust thought to himself. “Could a cloud have passed over? No, the sky was certainly clear…”

Before the boy could think too hard, there was a sudden blow, a swift strike to the stomach, knocking him back a step. It impacted his abdomen, and he felt it deflate him. He took a moment to hunch over in the darkness and refill his lungs, but before he could fully recover he felt another blow to his back. It wasn't quite as strong as the first, and this time he was prepared.

The boy snapped his focus behind, trying to catch his enemy, but alas it was useless. The darkness was too great.

He was forced to endure a series of strikes, from different sides all over. He felt his skin get cut and bruised. There was blood leaking from his nose, and his legs began to tremble, but he held his guard.

He sat in wait, trying to find an opportunity to strike back.

After the assault, silence once again overcame the room, and Dust was left to fall into his own head. His sight was useless, and smell never seemed to get humans very far, so he retreated to his ears for help. He exhaled sharply and tried to visualize his environment. The princess could make it darker all she wanted, but there was no changing the acoustics of the church.

He steadied his breath, waiting for any sort of vibration. There was a pause, a period of nothing but black and silence, but it ended briefly as the sound of footsteps, all the same as before, echoed down the hall of marble.

Now the steps were harder and focused. Someone was running, and fast.

Dust jabbed his staff toward the source of the noise. At first he felt some sort of resistance, but it quickly gave way with a weak pop. He felt water splash onto his face.

He sighed with relief and went to place his staff back onto his back, but just as he was about to slide it back into its string, he felt another sharp blow to his side.

This time it was more concentrated. A spinning blast of water that dug right into him. It tore through his clothes and about a layer deep into his skin. The liquid was cold and icy to the touch, but its rotational friction burned its shape into his right hip, and he winced back in pain.

He quickly pulled his weapon back out, but in the time it took him to do that, he felt two more strikes. The first was a blunt strike to the arm, and the other was a second a blast of water to his gut, this time a bit weaker than the first.

“Multiple opponents?”

There was another sharp sensation in his back.

“I'll have to retreat, but to where?”

He began to sprint in the direction where he vaguely remembered an exit, forced to endure more and more strikes as he ran. Though, blind and beaten, he ended up running directly into a column. He was stunned for a moment, his head hurting. A dizzy spell nearly sent him to his knees.

“Damn,” he winced.

His escape was brought to a halt, and just moments after his face sent vibrations blasting everywhere, he felt three sharp rotating blasts into his back.

“Gaah-!”

“SCRYAAAAH!” The elementals cried out in victory.

But Dust hardly let the pain slow him. He continued in the way he thought was forward, limping at first, but coming to grips with the pain and running not long after.

To his surprise, he found the exit. Churches weren't exactly a hard environment to get around in, but he hardly imagined him reaching the end this fast.

He slammed his weight into the door and burst out into the dark of night. The valley was pitch black, even though the stars had been so bright before, now it was hard to see past your own nose. But the boy had no time to consider what was in the darkness.

He bolted out into the ruined city, feeling the stone of the street beneath his feet as he ran.

____________________________________

CHAPTER TWO:

Starlight Sermon

____________________________________

“SCRYAAAH!” He heard echoing in the street.

“SCRYAAAAAAH!” Another followed, this one on his close left.

Footsteps sounded all around. Like rain falling onto his bubble of sight in the darkness, the marching of countless steps. He couldn't see the number of enemies, but he knew it was far too many for him to take on. “Azure told me that she was born of her princesses’ will. I know I have a lot of Voice, but this royal is on a different level. Is someone like this even beatable?”

Dust continued to run quite a few paces from the palace, and the light never seemed to return.

The city was mostly a straight stretch of buildings, and Azure had shown him the way. He was certain that all he needed to do was move forward.

But that was before he fell under attack. Before he felt himself being pelted from the darkness, under fire from bullets of water.

They were not unlike the rotating ones from before, smaller and weaker sure, but plentiful, a constant pain to suffer through. He could feel his back go warm with blood. He was shaking but he hardly noticed, it was so cold outside. Everything was frigid and achy. His knees began to lock, but he kept moving, through the haze of blood and water.

He stumbled and lost his way, but he kept running.

Soon the streets of stone became a field of grass. Not willing to relent, he was left to trip over rocks, and scramble through shrubbery.

“SCRYAAAH!” He heard in the distance.

From the grass, he ran deep into a thick set of woods. He thought the way was clear, but he was sure that he was lost now.

The darkness only grew, and he was forced to navigate through the trees. Though it seemed the rain of bullets stopped for now. Visibility was below zero, and the search for him slowed down.

Dust sat to rest against a tree. The footsteps of the elementals came to a halt, so he pulled out his canteen and started chugging it down.

He wondered if he was truly safe. He wondered if this place among the trees was going to protect him for long at all. But he needed a break regardless. His breath was sharp and painful, everything was heavy, and he had become aware of his tremors. He shook and coughed up sobs.

Of course his respite was short lived, as he figured.

Light came into the forest. Dust could see around every tree, and into every bush. As if a veil had been lifted from heaven, the stars returned to the sky. They winked as the haze cleared. Finally, light returned to the valley, and the forest went ablaze with life.

The flowers shone, a dew glistening. Fireflies spun from branch to branch, deers pranced, and the birds sang of the morning.

“SCRYAAAAAHH!”

Dust turned back towards the city. He could see everything so clearly now. The palace, the streets of ruin.

He had somehow made it to the top of a hill, just a bit into the woods. Behind him there were more trees, to the right, a river. In front of him though, a field, stretching from the edge of the woods, down to the beginning of town.

At the verge of town, standing at the beginning of the woods, there stood an army of the liquid men and women, wearing armor and wielding tridents. Hundreds of them in a row, marching towards the trees.

“SCRYAAAAH!” They chanted.

There was no doubt. He was no longer hidden in the trees. Their shadow no longer saved him, and there were eyes all over. Eyes with capabilities perhaps yet unknown. He scrambled to his feet, sealed his water, then bolted deeper into the woods.

He could hear the sounds of footsteps getting closer. The enemy was fast.

He scrambled through a thicket, and came to an opening. A pass of level ground. At the center was a pond, feeding into the river he noticed prior. He was stopped in his tracks by the serenity If he had been safe, this would have been the perfect place to set up camp. How quiet everything felt for a moment. The stars shone off the pond, and fell onto his eyes. There was a familiar feeling that washed over him, like someone begging for help. He felt somehow he could reach out and ask what was wrong.

But there was rustling in the bushes, and not just some of them. The bramble everywhere was twitching, and the sounds of feet became like wind, all encompassing. Every shrub birthed an elemental or two, monsters crawled out into the opening en masse, crying out all the while.

“SCRYAAAAAAAHHHH!” They were desperate, hungry, and they held their tridents high into the night.

Dust gripped his necklace, it was now or never.

There was a flash of white, then thick air gathered all round. It began as a cloud, masking the boy. But soon it condensed down in a couple dozen areas, clasping together into perfect spheres. They hovered above the night’s mist.

There were nearly forty of them, all translucent like glass. The moon danced inside their hollow form, reflecting all around like small beacons of light among the fireflies.

Dust’s position was without a doubt revealed.

Like automatons activating, the creatures snapped onto him. Their eyes flicked to the side as they took notice of his lightshow.

Their heads followed their gaze, falling into place.

Next was their feet. Hundreds of legs sprung to life as they brandished their weapons, and launched tridents like spears into battle. Dust gestured his right hand into a fist, commanding his personal army of spheres to block the oncoming rain. They flew out and intercepted tridents. Though, a few missed their mark and let one or two pass through.

He danced around to dodge the invading spears, but the army of enemies was also closing in around him, so he threw his arms about, flailing to guide his swarm through the enemies. Water splashed, adding to the mist. Every footstep that cast through to the ground dispersed the moisture. Dust could feel his clothes growing wet as he ran through the crowds of enemies, twirling his spear around and flooding the battle with spheres.

He ripped and tore, dodging tridents, projectiles, and all manner of melee strikes in the process.

No matter how many elementals he destroyed, more would always come in their place. The force was never-ending, and even he had a limit. Especially after casting such a large range spell.

He blocked more strikes than he took, but his defense was not impervious. He was being worn down and couldn't help but tremble. So many had come to challenge him.

If he were fighting humans, his hair would certainly have been dyed red. Soaked with his enemies, his white strands fell down to his nose and his eyes poked out from behind them.

He stared forward. His enemies had begun to act strange.

For some reason, they walked away from one another. Their group splitting apart, and leaving a space between Dust and the trees. Then, once the stage was set, a female clone came from out of the woods and strutted into the starlight.

“Azure.”

The elemental drew a blade from her chest, manifesting it from the water that she was. “As the one who brought you in, I shall be the one to slay you as well! I will take your blood in the name of my lady!”

“Are you really okay with everything being in the name of your lady?”

“I am no puppet,” she waved. “I told you, I was born of my Queen’s voice. I will become her champion. I am her will. I am the blade, and you are the enemy. That is all I need to know.”

“So be it.”

Dust brought his staff to his side and returned it to its place on his back. He raised his right arm and called all of the hovering spheres to his palm, molding them into a condensed shape. As if forged by the sky, a white sword formed in his hand. He pointed it forwards toward the Apostle, staring.

She stared back, but gave a smirk. “A duel then?”

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

Azure ran towards the boy, brandishing her blade over her shoulder. She rotated her weight around her strike, and spun towards Dust. He reached his sword out and met strikes with hers, clashing for a moment.

She put up a struggle, but with a bit of sweat, the boy swatted her and her blade away. She fell to the ground with grace, using her slipperiness to slide across the grass into a pirouette. She spun, flinging water in all directions, before coming back down and skating towards Dust.

He blocked her opening strike with ease, but she slid around in a three-sixty, then took a stab at his side.

He barely managed to dodge and jump out of the way, but his coat was torn in the process.

Azure had no plans to give the boy a break. She twirled around, spinning and spinning, her sword clashing with his at each full rotation. She continued in her seemingly unending assault, but even she was bound by friction. She lost momentum, eventually slowing to a point where she was left to stand raised high on her right foot.

Dust tried to use her moment of vulnerability to strike. He pressed his fist towards his chest, training his sword at her eyes, then pressed forward with everything in him. Apparently however, her opening was a feint. She sloshed just easily as she did up, back to the ground.

She became a mass of liquid against the dirt, then sprang back up into dance, reaching out with her glistening blade.

Her sword was malleable, whipping around at her whim. Dust's blade was firm, and it whistled as it rode through fogged air.

At last they had met in a decisive clash. Blade against blade. Will against will. All of the effort in their beings went into ending their opponents in that moment.

Water proved to be as strong a force as any, but it was only a matter of time before Azure's sword burst into droplets that fell like rain onto the grass.

The blade of wind soared on by, casting apart the weapon, and then her entire body.

Dust recalled something the princess had mentioned.

“If you really do choose to be like all the unlucky adventurers before you, and defy my wishes, then I will kill you here and create a devout follower in your memory!”

Then he looked back into Azure's eyes. Watching her face be dismantled as her constitution failed her. He stared, and there she was, looking back.

And in her face he saw nothing.

“Who exactly is this a depiction of?” He wondered. “What did you mean to The Princess… or Queen, or whatever? What did you actually want to fight for? What did you look like when you smiled?”

“No,” he tossed the rest of her remains off of his sword, then faced the legion of soldiers. They were hungrier now for him than ever before, all enticed by the title of ‘champion’.” He brandished his blade before the crowd, telling them to bring it on. He didn't care if this was his last stand.

“If anyone is to judge Lyanne, it cannot be me,” Dust looked up to the stars for a fleeting moment, searching for answers. But his enemies had already taken his taunt.

“SCRYAAAAAAAAAAH!” They surrounded him.

His eyes snapped back to his reality on the surface. Beneath space and every dream.

His enemies circled him, sizing him up at first. Then, when even he grew tired of the waiting, they all sprung into action and the onslaught resumed.

A mess of blood and water fell to the soil. Through every punch and bullet, every trident and blade, Dust fought, until he was breathing so heavily the world fell dark, and he was backed up to the water, with enemies all around, and all he could was back away, and hope for sleep, or something else, to take him.

Their screams, once so piercing, were muffled now. His feet could no longer carry him.

He fell backwards, a cold plunge. Though he couldn't tell if he had just fallen into water, or into another realm entirely. Everything around him was icy cold, but his body was so warm.

It reminded him of just a couple hours ago, when he was sitting alone and sleeping in his tent. Lying peacefully in his warmth. Before he was suddenly interrupted by a madwoman screaming and claiming to be an Apostle.

“Am I stupid or what?”