Chapter 616: Fear (2/2)

“Isles.”

“Isles, sure,” Trian said. “And now there’s nobody left to aim all that anger at. You know… I’m not sure if it really helped, doing what I did. What I do know is that I was still angry. I was still bitter. I looked and looked, to find someone responsible, a person, a system, something to punish for what I had experienced.”

Kyrian just looked at him.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but no, I didn’t find anything. Well that’s not true entirely. I realized that what had happened to me, happened to others too. I realized that in the war alone, so many people lost their families, loved ones, their sons, daughters. And why? Because a faraway king they didn’t know needed a war to keep his country from falling into a civil war. The king never knew them, never cared for them. It’s just some sick twist of fate.

“Maybe they died to a monster attack on the way to a safe haven, maybe they were even killed by Imperials, deserters who chose to rob their own instead of fighting in the war. Or they blamed the Shadow’s Hand, who summoned the demon plague whose few survivors happened upon their camp of refugees,” Trian said.

The two men remained silent for some time.

“The one you could’ve blamed is dead. And killing him wouldn’t have given you back the years you lost. Killing them didn’t…,” Trian said, his voice getting stuck for a split second before he continued. “Didn’t bring them back.”

“What did you do?” Kyrian asked, his hands shaking ever so slightly.

“I meditated. I cried. I wrote down my thoughts, focused on my magic, trained, and thought some more,” Trian said and laughed in a bitter tone. “I hated it. Hated every day. But with time, my anger lessened, the guilt I felt… lessened. There was no sudden change, no easy solution. It just took time, and work. Claire set up a few things for me to do, and as the months went by, I got assigned more duties, then we founded the Sentinels. I still have days… where it feels suffocating, when something reminds me of them. And I don’t think that will ever stop. I don’t want it to stop. But I want to live too. I’m proud of what we built here, I’m proud of what Ravenhall has become, I’m proud of my own progress, and I won’t stop there.”

Kyrian chuckled. “I’ve been waiting for two years.”

“You didn’t just wait. Look at your level,” Trian said.

Kyrian just snorted.

“If you were Ilea, I’d suggest a good hunt, maybe on the very isles you were stranded on. She’s probably there now, taking on the strongest of the beasts she can get her hands on, losing her head over and over,” Trian said, the last words a murmur before he refocused. “There’s power in self improvement, be it working on skills and Classes, or just learning about what you enjoy, learning about tea.”

“You suggest I should cultivate herbs?” Kyrian asked.

Trian shrugged. “Why not? Plenty of space in the Haven. Plenty of mages ready to show you the ropes. But not just that. You’ll be among people. You can even start here, with the Sentinels. We have Classes on Alchemy, enchantments, monsters, and various training exercises. I don’t think it’s herbs you need, I think you just need to be with people, and let time do its thing. And write a journal,” Trian said.

A journal. She did teach me to read, didn’t she? Maybe I should try.

“And tell your story. Tell of the monsters you have fought, how you did it. Show the Sentinels what a member of team thirty four has to offer,” Trian said with a grin.

“Ilea was here too, wasn’t she? I’m not exactly impressive compared to her,” Kyrian said.

Trian laughed. “You’ll know how impressive you are when a team of level two hundred Sentinels have fought against you. When did you last fight another human?”

“I’m not interested in a bout against your students, Trian,” Kyrian said.

“I wasn’t talking about a bout, Kyrian. They stand no chance against you. I stand no chance against you. I doubt the whole council of Ravenhall could do much to stop you, not the way you are now,” Trian said with a dark smile. “I see that you don’t exactly believe me. And that’s okay.”

The man removed his boots from the table and leaned forward a little. “So, Kyrian. I can offer you a room here, food, and company. You can enroll in whatever Classes you like, train with the students, or teach them if you like. And of course you can come and go as you like.”

Kyrian thought about it, relaxing in his chair as he finished his tea. “I’ll go back to the isles.”

“I told you, you can come and go as you like. But you should stay some time at least. Lest you turn into another Ilea,” Trian said.

He smiled. “I fear what I will find when I return.”

“I stopped trying to imagine it. I’m just pleasantly surprised whenever she returns and tells of her exploits,” Trian said.

“You don’t mind… how strong she is? We were in the same team. You, me, Claire, Ilea, and Eve,” Kyrian said.

The vampyr smiled. “We all excel at different things. And we all make our own choices,” he said and paused for a moment. “The only thing we can’t forget, is that we’ll have each others’ backs. You know, Ilea wasn’t the only one looking to get you back. But while me and Claire have considerable resources, we didn’t exactly have a way to use the Taleen teleportation network.”

“Thank you. I didn’t mean to waste your efforts,” Kyrian said.

“No efforts were wasted. What’s important is that you’re back. Alive,” Trian said. “So, a few weeks with the Sentinels? Maybe some visits to the city if you have a good day?”

Kyrian nodded slowly. “I’ll have to take care of my birds.”

“Sure,” Trian said with a smile and stood up. “Great, let me show you around then. Or just to your room if you want to be alone?”

Kyrian snorted and stood up too. “Trian… thank you,” he said and looked at the ground.

“I’m glad you’re back, friend. Let’s see what Classes are coming up and what rooms are available, come on,” Trian said and walked to the door. He didn’t react when Kyrian reformed his thick helmet, the emotion on his face likely not lost to the high level mage.

___________________

Ilea sunk her ash in even deeper. Her right wing was reforming, all her focus on the injured and struggling Bluetail. Its blood flowed past, mixing with hers as she tasted both. They were deep now, the pitch black ocean around them dark, the sinking duo alone illuminated by white flame clinging to both.

The pressure slowed her movements but she knew the same was true for the monster. It had dragged her down in a hope to get rid of her, its spells and talons ineffective against the constantly regenerating human clinging to its armored body. Many of the scales were gone now, deep cuts showing on the being that healed only slowly.

Ilea didn’t dare let go. Not because the creature would flee, she knew it wouldn’t, but because she didn’t want to be down here without reason. She knew deep down that the end result would be the same but for now she ignored it, focusing on the next punch, the next strike of her ash, her constant flow of destructive mana that continuously overwhelmed the creature. Or so she hoped.

It was difficult to tell, all sound muted, their battle frantic as the Bluetail swerved from side to side, twirled and formed spells of water and wind, sometimes both at the same time.

Ilea lost parts of her armor many times, her organs ruptured by the forces summoned by the creature. It didn’t matter. She clung onto it with everything she had. Her ash kept her close when her hands slipped, her wings readjusted her when the creature cut through her magic limbs. She felt no pain, could recover from most injuries in seconds, and she absorbed mana from whatever spell the monster threw at her.

Her resistances and healing made the fight possible in the first place, the powerful magic still enough to deal significant damage to her body. But nothing the Bluetail could do was enough. It couldn’t pierce her skull, or it simply didn’t attempt to do so. It couldn’t destroy her brain, not in a way that would stop her. And it didn’t understand that its spells were fueling hers in turn.

As time went on, Ilea could tell the monster’s movements were slowing even more, its magic packing less of a punch. The fight was almost over. She didn’t relax, didn’t slow down, her ash and magic continuing to pour into the creature with all the might she could conjure. Until finally, the creature went still.

‘ding’ ‘You have defeated [Northern Bluetail – lvl 862]’

‘ding’ ‘The Azarinth Sentinel has reached lvl 478 – Five stat points awarded’

‘ding’ ‘Kin of Ash has reached lvl 472 – Five stat points awarded’

‘ding’ ‘The Faen Valkyrie has reached lvl 427 – One stat point awarded’

‘ding’ ‘Flare of Creation reaches 3rd lvl 24’

‘ding’ ‘Body of the Valkyrie reaches 3rd lvl 21’

‘ding’ ‘Deviant of Humanity reaches 3rd lvl 2’

‘ding’ ‘Harmony of the Drowned reaches lvl 10’

‘ding’ ‘Oxygen Repository reaches 2nd lvl 2’

‘ding’ ‘Veteran reaches 3rd lvl 18’

‘ding’ ‘Fear Resistance reaches lvl 15’ (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

‘ding’ ‘Water Resistance reaches 3rd lvl 2’

Ilea tried to calm herself, ignoring the messages floating somewhere in her mind. She still clung to the creature, the two now floating nearly motionless. Her flames subsided, leaving her in darkness. She couldn’t hear anything and closed her eyes. Her body tried to breathe but no air came into her lungs, making her hyperventilate for a moment before she managed to stop herself. No water entered her lungs either, her ashen armor preventing it from flowing into her mouth.

Up, she thought, opening her eyes. Where’s up?

Before she started to panic, she remembered her marks, focusing on Feyrair and Neiphato’s as she started to teleport as quickly as she could.