[West Gate, The Edge]
The town of The Edge bathed under the pale lights of the moon and the stars - its destruction laid bare to the heavens' eyes. Every road was cluttered with shards of rocks and concrete, along with the persistent wailing and weeping of the Edge’s residents – their broken voices echoed throughout the decimated borough. Shortly after, the stagnant night turned hectic as dozens of orange lights floating around the district, followed by multiple voices barking orders and requesting help.
Clad in their armors, the Royal Guard of the Opal Sun came running with lanterns in their hands, providing aid to the victims of the Raid. Amid the chaos, an elderly man in a grey, regal outfit strolled through the crowds with his brown walking stick - his other hand brushing his chest-length, white beard sprouting from his waxen face. As he reached the destroyed West Gate, the man's downturned eyes scanned the area, but his mouth soon set in a hard line after noticing a hooded person standing near the collapsed metal structure.
"You’re late," said the elderly man with a deep, booming voice; his milky white hair glistened from the faint ray of the waxing gibbous moon. “I was expecting you AND Thomas to be here an hour ago.”
A few seconds later, the mysterious figure pulled down his cowl, and his onyx eyes settled on the elder. "My apologies, Lord Daedalus," Markus asserted, slowly bowing his head at the Chief Consul of the Inner Circle, the Opal Sun ministries. "Thomas sends his regards and his apology. Due to unforeseen circumstances, he won’t be able to meet you tonight."
“Not even for an old friend?” Daedalus huffed after hearing Markus's excuse. The old man then walked toward the debris - his eyes glistening with tears. "Do you know this gate was built by my great, great-grandfather alongside the First King of the Opal Sun?" Daedalus asked.
"No, sir."
"He was one of the hundred builders involved in the construction of this amazing structure, who at their own requests, wanted to keep their identities a secret - to prevent potential breaches. Despite no one knowing who they were, this gift of theirs has undeniably protected the lives of the Opal Sun citizens for nearly a century. To see it in this state is...heart-wrenching - and an insult to their memories." Daedalus turned his attention to Markus; a deep frown appeared on his wrinkled face. "People of the Opal Sun desired retribution, and I do not intend to deny their craving for justice."
“And what does this…craving for justice entail?” Markus retorted even though he already knew the answer. “Does it involve sacrificing an innocent life simply to pacify the masses? With all due respect Lord Daedalus, I don’t recommend you do that – especially with the current situation with the Sapphire Star.”
"I appreciate your advice, Markus but do not forget that your authority stopped when you left the Phantasmal Realm. As a matter of fact, I can have you apprehended right now for trespassing."
"I'm not here solely on behalf of the Order, my Lord. I'm also here as a friend who is concerned about you and your people's well-being. There’s no doubt in my mind that your people deserved justice, but not by jeopardizing the relationship between two nations."
“WE are a nation,” Daedalus emphasized. “While they are a band of farmers and peasants led by misguided leaders who believe we are attempting to conquer them.”
“But IF they are pushed hard enough, this band of farmers and peasants will be a force to be reckoned with. Some of them even managed to sneak past your guards, acting as spies and saboteurs on behalf of the Liberation. This kingdom would have fallen into chaos if it wasn’t for Prince Jason and the others.”
“Prince Jason’s contributions are not going to solve the restlessness among my people…”
“Your people, Lord Daedalus?” Markus stated. “Have you forgotten your king and queen were well acquainted with the late Princess of the Sapphire Star? Have you also forgotten the Cerulean Oath – a vow made between the first Opal Sun King and the first Sapphire Star King shortly after the First Conflict?”
Daedalus became quiet. The Chief Consul then took a deep breath before uttering to Markus, “To aid one another in times of need; to provide solace to the weak regardless of their motherland – for we are born under the same cerulean sky. Yes, I am fully aware of what you are referring to, but the Oath died on the day Princess Andromeda passed away from her sickness.”
“No,” Markus interjected. “The Oath will only die if no one remembers it – believes in it, and I’m sure the Empyreans also intend to keep the oath alive, just as their forefathers did.”
The Chief Consul sighed as he felt a slight heaviness building inside his chest. "You made a valid point, but you’re not here for a debate, are you Markus?” Daedalus responded. “I can see it in your eyes; you’re scheming something, aren’t you?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve known you since you were a fledgling. So, you can stop feigning your ignorance.’
"Fair enough," said Markus, fixing his black robe. "I want-No, NEED your permission to conduct a search for the Empyreans.”
“A search?” Daedalus repeated as he focused all of his attention on Markus.
“According to my sources, the trio are now inside the Forest of the Bandit Lord. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where they are heading.”
“The Cerulean Mausoleum,” said Daedalus, shuddering at the revelation. The elderly man clenched his wooden cane; his knuckles slowly turned white as he realized the gravity of the situation. “That place is sacred to the Opal Sun residents. Allowing an outsider, especially a Faceless, to traverse through that forest will not bode well for the Order, and for me," muttered Daedalus with a grim expression.
"I'm quite aware of that, sir, but I assure you there’s no other way. Your Royal Guards are preoccupied with the aftermath of the Raid, and the same can be said about your ministers.”
"I know what you’re trying to do, Markus. However, I’m sorry to say your plan is quite…naïve. Even if you managed to find the three, their words alone are not enough to prove their innocence. Every single resident of The Edge witnessed their treacherous act, including the surviving Royal Guards. Reason alone will not be enough to quell their wrath.”
“It was never enough, Lord Daedalus. It has always been that way,” Markus sighed in return. “But, that does not mean I will stop trying.”
“Your conviction is admirable,” Dedalus grumbled; nodding his head. “Unfortunately, I have to say no to your request.”
“Lord Daedalus…”
“I said no, and that’s final. I’m sorry Markus; I wish I could say otherwise,” said the Chief Consul.
All of a sudden, a pair of anemic arms shot out from the rubble, surprising both men. Markus swiftly slid in front of Daedalus and drew an indigo-handled broadsword from its sheath.
A few moments later, a bare-chested man dragged himself out of the debris before rolling down to the ground. “Wait, that’s…that’s a Royal Guard,” Daedalus remarked after recognizing the chausses worn by the ashen figure.
"He was a Royal Guard. Not anymore," Markus returned, his eyes fixated on the light-skinned man who was shakily rising to his feet. The trembling character straightened itself up, revealing a large, dark hole on its face.
"Is that…is that what I think it is?" Daedalus gasped, blinking his eyes in disbelief.
"A Subsumer; in its Burrower State," confirmed Markus, later adding, “Lord Daedalus, it will be better if you return to the palace and leave this matter to me. "
"Nonsense. I would rather stay and watch that creature's demise with my own two eyes."
Markus exhaled, even though he had initially predicted the elderly man's answer. "Fine. At least, stand back a bit further."
Daedalus nodded in return and immediately did as he was told.
'Finally,' Markus mouthed before shifting his focus back on the Distorted staring at him with its hollowed head. He smiled wryly at the ironic sight of the faceless creature - it had been barely a day since he stepped foot on this land, and the heavens were already playing tricks on him.
Soon after, the Subsumer began to heave, and a series of grotesque events ensued: all of its skin gradually melted like wax, and its muscles and network of veins were visible to the naked eye. Then, bone-white carapaces grew all over its body, enveloping the Distorted like full-body armor.
Markus, who had been quietly observing the whole process, commented, "So, the reports were true: an Armored Distorted." The Subsumer proceeded to drag its feet toward the Captain of the Deathstalker, both arms extended with the intent to grab the latter. Markus swung his sword upward, and his blade deflected both of the Distorted’s arms but not without any repercussions.
“Argh!” Markus exclaimed as he felt a sharp pain in the palms of his hands – it was as if he just hit a solid brick wall. However, the man brushed off the sensation after noticing the Subsumer trying to grab him.
But, the Distorted mysteriously froze in its place - unable to move even an inch.
SWOOSH!
The Subsumer’s head was severed from its torso in a blink of an eye; dark tar-like liquid spurted out of the Distorted’s neck, and shortly after, its body crashed to the ground. After letting out a sigh of relief, Markus lowered his sword, its blade was enveloped with the creature’s sticky blood.
"What is that? I never saw anything like it before," said Daedalus as he approached the Subsumer's corpse.
“An Armored Distorted. They’ve been appearing out of nowhere as of late,” countered Markus as he sheathed his broadsword. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
Daedalus dropped his gaze, the elderly man uncomfortably clutched to his cane as if he was holding a hot cauldron. "I was never intending to execute Theodorus, in case you are wondering," muttered the Chief Consul, peering at Markus.
"I already know about that, and I also know about the mole in the Inner Circle."
"How...? I don't remember telling anyone else about that - not even the prince himself."
"A gut feeling, I guess? I thought it would be a foolish move to execute the boy, considering he's your only connection to the Sapphire Star people. So, I'm guessing you're just trying to flush someone out."
"Huh, it seems I have once again underestimated your shrewdness. Well, you're not wrong," replied Daedalus, his eyes scouring the area for any unwanted attention. "Considering you saved me from this Subsumer, then allow me to repay the favor. A few months ago, my scouts noticed unusual movements in Theodorus's village. Soldiers came in and out daily, carrying barrows of weapons and supplies to the Fallen Star Hill. There's a rumor about a group of insurgents gathering at that place, led by a man who claimed to be the last descendant of the Sapphire Star royalty."
"Ah, the fabled Lost Prince. Where did the Liberation pick this guy from this time?" asked Markus, both hands on his hips.
"The man came to the village himself and somehow managed to convince everyone of his...heritage. So, if the news of Theo's execution reaches the Lost Prince's ears, he will have no choice but to show up at the palace in person."
"That's quite a gamble, Lord Daedalus, considering your current relations with the Western Continent. Then, what do all these have to do with the mole in the Inner Circle?"
"I have found irregularities in the treasury's fund. Every month, an insignificant amount of the country's wealth vanishes without explanation, but they are always the same amount. Coincidentally, the strange occurrence started soon after the Lost Prince's first appearance." Daedalus turned his head toward Markus; the latter could guess what the Chief Consul was about to say. "If you could send your Ghost Mantises to check out the land of the Sapphire Star; find out what those soldiers are doing, then perhaps I'll overlook those three Faceless you sent to the Forest of the Bandit Lord."
"Y-You knew? Of course, you knew," Markus breathed out.
“Don’t sound too surprised. Like you, I also have my own reliable sources. Just…make sure they do not burn the entire forest down," said Daedalus solemnly before walking away from the West Gate, leaving Markus gazing at the Subsumer's cadaver.
"Huh, so much for secrecy," The lone Faceless murmured.
[West Gate, The Edge]
The town of The Edge bathed under the pale lights of the moon and the stars - its destruction laid bare to the heavens' eyes. Every road was cluttered with shards of rocks and concrete, along with the persistent wailing and weeping of the Edge’s residents – their broken voices echoed throughout the decimated borough. Shortly after, the stagnant night turned hectic as dozens of orange lights floating around the district, followed by multiple voices barking orders and requesting help.
Clad in their armors, the Royal Guard of the Opal Sun came running with lanterns in their hands, providing aid to the victims of the Raid. Amid the chaos, an elderly man in a grey, regal outfit strolled through the crowds with his brown walking stick - his other hand brushing his chest-length, white beard sprouting from his waxen face. As he reached the destroyed West Gate, the man's downturned eyes scanned the area, but his mouth soon set in a hard line after noticing a hooded person standing near the collapsed metal structure.
"You’re late," said the elderly man with a deep, booming voice; his milky white hair glistened from the faint ray of the waxing gibbous moon. “I was expecting you AND Thomas to be here an hour ago.”
A few seconds later, the mysterious figure pulled down his cowl, and his onyx eyes settled on the elder. "My apologies, Lord Daedalus," Markus asserted, slowly bowing his head at the Chief Consul of the Inner Circle, the Opal Sun ministries. "Thomas sends his regards and his apology. Due to unforeseen circumstances, he won’t be able to meet you tonight."
“Not even for an old friend?” Daedalus huffed after hearing Markus's excuse. The old man then walked toward the debris - his eyes glistening with tears. "Do you know this gate was built by my great, great-grandfather alongside the First King of the Opal Sun?" Daedalus asked.
"No, sir."
"He was one of the hundred builders involved in the construction of this amazing structure, who at their own requests, wanted to keep their identities a secret - to prevent potential breaches. Despite no one knowing who they were, this gift of theirs has undeniably protected the lives of the Opal Sun citizens for nearly a century. To see it in this state is...heart-wrenching - and an insult to their memories." Daedalus turned his attention to Markus; a deep frown appeared on his wrinkled face. "People of the Opal Sun desired retribution, and I do not intend to deny their craving for justice."
“And what does this…craving for justice entail?” Markus retorted even though he already knew the answer. “Does it involve sacrificing an innocent life simply to pacify the masses? With all due respect Lord Daedalus, I don’t recommend you do that – especially with the current situation with the Sapphire Star.”
"I appreciate your advice, Markus but do not forget that your authority stopped when you left the Phantasmal Realm. As a matter of fact, I can have you apprehended right now for trespassing."
"I'm not here solely on behalf of the Order, my Lord. I'm also here as a friend who is concerned about you and your people's well-being. There’s no doubt in my mind that your people deserved justice, but not by jeopardizing the relationship between two nations."
“WE are a nation,” Daedalus emphasized. “While they are a band of farmers and peasants led by misguided leaders who believe we are attempting to conquer them.”
“But IF they are pushed hard enough, this band of farmers and peasants will be a force to be reckoned with. Some of them even managed to sneak past your guards, acting as spies and saboteurs on behalf of the Liberation. This kingdom would have fallen into chaos if it wasn’t for Prince Jason and the others.”
“Prince Jason’s contributions are not going to solve the restlessness among my people…”
“Your people, Lord Daedalus?” Markus stated. “Have you forgotten your king and queen were well acquainted with the late Princess of the Sapphire Star? Have you also forgotten the Cerulean Oath – a vow made between the first Opal Sun King and the first Sapphire Star King shortly after the First Conflict?”
Daedalus became quiet. The Chief Consul then took a deep breath before uttering to Markus, “To aid one another in times of need; to provide solace to the weak regardless of their motherland – for we are born under the same cerulean sky. Yes, I am fully aware of what you are referring to, but the Oath died on the day Princess Andromeda passed away from her sickness.”
“No,” Markus interjected. “The Oath will only die if no one remembers it – believes in it, and I’m sure the Empyreans also intend to keep the oath alive, just as their forefathers did.”
The Chief Consul sighed as he felt a slight heaviness building inside his chest. "You made a valid point, but you’re not here for a debate, are you Markus?” Daedalus responded. “I can see it in your eyes; you’re scheming something, aren’t you?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve known you since you were a fledgling. So, you can stop feigning your ignorance.’
"Fair enough," said Markus, fixing his black robe. "I want-No, NEED your permission to conduct a search for the Empyreans.”
“A search?” Daedalus repeated as he focused all of his attention on Markus.
“According to my sources, the trio are now inside the Forest of the Bandit Lord. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where they are heading.”
“The Cerulean Mausoleum,” said Daedalus, shuddering at the revelation. The elderly man clenched his wooden cane; his knuckles slowly turned white as he realized the gravity of the situation. “That place is sacred to the Opal Sun residents. Allowing an outsider, especially a Faceless, to traverse through that forest will not bode well for the Order, and for me," muttered Daedalus with a grim expression.
"I'm quite aware of that, sir, but I assure you there’s no other way. Your Royal Guards are preoccupied with the aftermath of the Raid, and the same can be said about your ministers.”
"I know what you’re trying to do, Markus. However, I’m sorry to say your plan is quite…naïve. Even if you managed to find the three, their words alone are not enough to prove their innocence. Every single resident of The Edge witnessed their treacherous act, including the surviving Royal Guards. Reason alone will not be enough to quell their wrath.”
“It was never enough, Lord Daedalus. It has always been that way,” Markus sighed in return. “But, that does not mean I will stop trying.”
“Your conviction is admirable,” Dedalus grumbled; nodding his head. “Unfortunately, I have to say no to your request.”
“Lord Daedalus…”
“I said no, and that’s final. I’m sorry Markus; I wish I could say otherwise,” said the Chief Consul.
All of a sudden, a pair of anemic arms shot out from the rubble, surprising both men. Markus swiftly slid in front of Daedalus and drew an indigo-handled broadsword from its sheath.
A few moments later, a bare-chested man dragged himself out of the debris before rolling down to the ground. “Wait, that’s…that’s a Royal Guard,” Daedalus remarked after recognizing the chausses worn by the ashen figure.
"He was a Royal Guard. Not anymore," Markus returned, his eyes fixated on the light-skinned man who was shakily rising to his feet. The trembling character straightened itself up, revealing a large, dark hole on its face.
"Is that…is that what I think it is?" Daedalus gasped, blinking his eyes in disbelief.
"A Subsumer; in its Burrower State," confirmed Markus, later adding, “Lord Daedalus, it will be better if you return to the palace and leave this matter to me. "
"Nonsense. I would rather stay and watch that creature's demise with my own two eyes."
Markus exhaled, even though he had initially predicted the elderly man's answer. "Fine. At least, stand back a bit further."
Daedalus nodded in return and immediately did as he was told.
'Finally,' Markus mouthed before shifting his focus back on the Distorted staring at him with its hollowed head. He smiled wryly at the ironic sight of the faceless creature - it had been barely a day since he stepped foot on this land, and the heavens were already playing tricks on him.
Soon after, the Subsumer began to heave, and a series of grotesque events ensued: all of its skin gradually melted like wax, and its muscles and network of veins were visible to the naked eye. Then, bone-white carapaces grew all over its body, enveloping the Distorted like full-body armor.
Markus, who had been quietly observing the whole process, commented, "So, the reports were true: an Armored Distorted." The Subsumer proceeded to drag its feet toward the Captain of the Deathstalker, both arms extended with the intent to grab the latter. Markus swung his sword upward, and his blade deflected both of the Distorted’s arms but not without any repercussions.
“Argh!” Markus exclaimed as he felt a sharp pain in the palms of his hands – it was as if he just hit a solid brick wall. However, the man brushed off the sensation after noticing the Subsumer trying to grab him.
But, the Distorted mysteriously froze in its place - unable to move even an inch.
SWOOSH!
The Subsumer’s head was severed from its torso in a blink of an eye; dark tar-like liquid spurted out of the Distorted’s neck, and shortly after, its body crashed to the ground. After letting out a sigh of relief, Markus lowered his sword, its blade was enveloped with the creature’s sticky blood.
"What is that? I never saw anything like it before," said Daedalus as he approached the Subsumer's corpse.
“An Armored Distorted. They’ve been appearing out of nowhere as of late,” countered Markus as he sheathed his broadsword. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
Daedalus dropped his gaze, the elderly man uncomfortably clutched to his cane as if he was holding a hot cauldron. "I was never intending to execute Theodorus, in case you are wondering," muttered the Chief Consul, peering at Markus.
"I already know about that, and I also know about the mole in the Inner Circle."
"How...? I don't remember telling anyone else about that - not even the prince himself."
"A gut feeling, I guess? I thought it would be a foolish move to execute the boy, considering he's your only connection to the Sapphire Star people. So, I'm guessing you're just trying to flush someone out."
"Huh, it seems I have once again underestimated your shrewdness. Well, you're not wrong," replied Daedalus, his eyes scouring the area for any unwanted attention. "Considering you saved me from this Subsumer, then allow me to repay the favor. A few months ago, my scouts noticed unusual movements in Theodorus's village. Soldiers came in and out daily, carrying barrows of weapons and supplies to the Fallen Star Hill. There's a rumor about a group of insurgents gathering at that place, led by a man who claimed to be the last descendant of the Sapphire Star royalty."
"Ah, the fabled Lost Prince. Where did the Liberation pick this guy from this time?" asked Markus, both hands on his hips.
"The man came to the village himself and somehow managed to convince everyone of his...heritage. So, if the news of Theo's execution reaches the Lost Prince's ears, he will have no choice but to show up at the palace in person."
"That's quite a gamble, Lord Daedalus, considering your current relations with the Western Continent. Then, what do all these have to do with the mole in the Inner Circle?"
"I have found irregularities in the treasury's fund. Every month, an insignificant amount of the country's wealth vanishes without explanation, but they are always the same amount. Coincidentally, the strange occurrence started soon after the Lost Prince's first appearance." Daedalus turned his head toward Markus; the latter could guess what the Chief Consul was about to say. "If you could send your Ghost Mantises to check out the land of the Sapphire Star; find out what those soldiers are doing, then perhaps I'll overlook those three Faceless you sent to the Forest of the Bandit Lord."
"Y-You knew? Of course, you knew," Markus breathed out.
“Don’t sound too surprised. Like you, I also have my own reliable sources. Just…make sure they do not burn the entire forest down," said Daedalus solemnly before walking away from the West Gate, leaving Markus gazing at the Subsumer's cadaver.
"Huh, so much for secrecy," The lone Faceless murmured.
