Sarasin silently looked down at the boy. The boy returned her gaze, looking at Sarasin with a sense of need that she strangely understood. It was as if he was speaking a language that only she was fluent in and it left her feeling terribly uncomfortable.
Sarasin tried to dismiss both the boy and the feelings she felt. “I have no time for this.” She said as she looked away and took another drink of the dravink. When her eyes returned to where the boy had stood, a teenager stood in his place.
The young man had short cropped red hair and a dashing smile. He stood as tall as Sarasin’s brother’s and had her family’s ears. But his smile… was that of High Priest Korros.
“Mother…” He said, gazing with admiration at the woman sitting at the booth. “Mother why do you cry?”
“I am not your mother…” Sarasin replied, gritting her teeth. “You are not real.”
“Mother…” The young man said, lowering his head. “Why do you not want me?”
“I do!” Sarasin said, snapping her head up at the teen. She looked him up and down and fought back the tears that were welling up in her eyes.
“I exist… Mother.” The boy said. “My… spirit… or whatever I am has never left you. I am here.”
“You haunt me…” Sarasin replied. “From the day you were born Eliss, you have haunted me.”
“I never wanted…”
“I know…” Sarasin said in a whisper, once again lowering her head. “But what we want in this world is not always what we get…” She sighed and took another drink of dravink.
“You… killed my father today.” Eliss said, looking square at Sarasin. “...thank you.”
“I could kill him every day.” Sarasin replied. “For what he did to… to you… to us…”
“He deserved it mother.” Eliss said. “And you… deserve to heal.”
“I deserve his fate.” Sarasin said, looking down at her dravink. “The lives I have taken for a cause I now question daily… I still kill and judge for this… this empire, this goddess… and I do not even know if I believe in any of it anymore.”
“That does not make you bad, Mother.” Eliss said, sitting across from Sarasin. He reached out and grabbed her hands. She felt the warmth of his skin, and looked up into the eyes of what appeared to be a perfectly healthy young man.
“I kill innocents.” She said, looking into Eliss’ emerald eyes. “I am evil.”
“You have done evil things.” Eliss said, “But to me you are an angel… Mother… I have seen God. I know God, he sent me today…”
“Eliss stop.” Sarasin said, shaking her head and wiping the tears away. “I can not handle this right now…”
“Mother God wants to meet you. The true God.”
“Enough Eliss!” Sarasin shouted, standing up and slamming her hand on the table. Once again, everyone in the pub turned and looked at her. Quickly, she tossed the money to cover her bill on the table and hurried out, making sure her hood covered her features.
Sarasin hurried out onto the street, running fast from the pub. Tears streamed from her eyes and her heart felt like it was about to pound out of her chest. Everything that had happened to her that day was culminating into one big meltdown and she knew she had to get back to her suite atop Dauid’s Tower. She had to go to sleep.
Sarasin rounded a corner, passing by a handful of Canruusi citizens who turned their heads curiously to see what looked like a crazed woman. She ignored them, pressing onward to her suite. She wanted to once again be surrounded by her guard, to get lost in her work and forget she was alive. She wanted the hype of her power and her position in the Empire to overwhelm her and wash her clean of the anxiety and the pain.
Sarasin reached a crossing and stopped to wait for the cars to pass. She took a minute to catch her breath and felt her stomach begin to churn.
“Oh no.” She said, just as she hurled vomit onto the street. She coughed and gagged, spitting what she could not heave onto the ground and in her bent over position, she looked up for she felt she was not alone.
“Hello.” A tiny voice said to her.
The red haired girl from the temple… the one who sat beside Korros. His relief vessel. She stood in the center of the road, directly in the way of oncoming traffic.
“Move!” Sarasin shouted, charging forward and tackling the girl. The truck blared its horn and swerved out of the way as Sarasin and the girl rolled onto the sidewalk.
“You stupid girl!” Sarasin said as she got to her feet and picked the girl up to her feet. “Were you trying to get hit?!”
The girl stared at Sarasin with empty eyes and a smiling face. Sarasin stared back but could not get a read on the child.
“You are Sarasin, Ellis’ mother?” The girl asked.
“How do you know his name?” Sarasin shouted as she aggressively stepped forward toward the girl.
“God introduced us.” She said. “For he and I live with him.” Sarasin blinked a couple of times and shook her head.
“I am insane.” She said, looking around her. “By the Goddess I have lost my mind. It has finally happened… I…”
“You are sane.” The little girl said calmly. “God wants to meet you. God wants to show you your son.”
“My son is dead!” Sarasin shouted, snapping her attention back to the girl. “He has been dead for years!”
“So am I.” The girl replied. “I died many years ago… do you not recognize me?”
“Enough!” Sarasin shouted, walking away from the girl. “You are not real. You are not!”
“No.” The girl said. “You, Sarasin, are not real. You have no concept of true reality, all you are is a shell, nothing more. You lost me when you lost Eliss… you gave up. Surrendered… you died Sarasin and I want to give you life once again.”
“Wherever you came from.” Sarasin said, looking at the girl, “Whoever you are… go back. Do not test me, never seek me out again. I could make your puny little commoner life a living hell.”
“Reality is lost to you…” The girl said. “I am free from the chains of this world, free from the power you choose to exert on others. Your prisons cannot contain me, no blade can strike me down… For I am real.”
Sarasin angrily shook her head and turned away from the girl. “You are never to speak to me again.” She said as she walked away. “Never look at me again. If I ever see you…” Sarasin turned around and the girl was gone. Eliss was gone. Once again, she was alone.
“Fuck.” She said, throwing her weight into the brick wall to her left. She pressed her back up against the wall and rested her head. She tried to breathe, to gain control of her emotions but only found herself digging her nails into her palms once again… She felt the blood, her own blood this time, and fell to the ground.
“Why?” She asked herself as she drew a small blade from her hip. The weight of depression weighed down on her, it was all she could feel. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think… all she could do was feel.
Sarasin felt tired, angry, sad… The image of Eliss, the mysterious girl… how they called her to God… It was too much. She moved her cloak aside and slowly drug her blade across her skin.
As her skin opened, Sarasin felt a growing sense of euphoria. She felt the feeling of the cut begin to overcome her feelings of anxiety, pain and fear. She sat on the ground, feeling like a sugir addict would after his first bump in days.
After a few minutes, Sarasin wiped her eyes and found herself able to stand once again. She wiped her blade off on her cloak and took a breath.
“You got this.” She said to herself, closing her eyes for a moment. “You got this… crazy fucked up life you live.” Sarasin began to walk once again but stopped suddenly for she saw something…
From within the cracks on the sidewalk before her, Sarasin saw a green plant creep out. It was a very small plant with a bulb on the end and it slowly crept in her direction. Curiously, Sarasin knelt down to watch as the bulb opened up into a red flower.
Sarasin reached
out and picked the flower. She looked down at it and cautiously brought it up to her nose to smell it. After a moment passed, Sarasin lifted her hood once again and continued her walk toward Dauid’s Tower.
Chapter 8: Part One
The Demon VIII
22nd of Ramlia - 346AG
19:00 - Pado Village - Belhaasi Weald
The light from the fireplace to Crinnan’s left flickered throughout the room, glazing everything in its path with a soft orange glow. There was a certain rustic charm about the setup of the whole place. All the furniture looked as if it were handmade and there was not a single electronic in sight. The simplicity of it all was strangely foreign to Crinnan and made him feel as if he were transported back to the Age of Blood.
To his right, at the opposite end of the room, was a wooden bar with a bald headed middle-aged Elf standing behind it. Behind him was a shElf lined with bottles of various types of alcohols and numerous empty containers.
Somehow the Elf at the bar had not heard Crinnan enter, perhaps he had been too absorbed with the cup he was cleaning. As Crinnan closed the door behind him, the Elf finally looked up and smiled.
“Welcome to the Azu Acorn Inn!” He said as Crinnan walked towards him, “It's not often that I have the pleasure of serving a half-blood!”
“Indeed.” Crinnan replied. “I need a room for a few hours.”
“Half-Blood eh?” The innkeeper asked, “Well half-Elf you've come to the right place.” He paused and adjusted his glasses to look at his guest. “You're a soldier?”
Crinnan quietly nodded, uninterested in conversation. Jethro chuckled and crossed his arms. “I was a soldier once.” He said, flexing his muscles, “Long time ago, back in the days of General Laryx.”
“Laryx?” Crinnan repeated, recognizing the name. “You fought for Govia?”
“Do you serve Govia?” The innkeeper asked.
“No.” Crinnan replied.
“Then neither did I.” He said with a smile. “I was with Black Knight… many years ago.” Crinnan looked up at him and became interested.
“Do you mind if I have a seat?” Crinnan asked.
“By all means child.” He said, pulling a cup out from beneath the bar, “What's your poison?”
“I don't have any money.” Crinnan said.
“What's your poison boy?” He repeated sternly, “You look like you need it.”
“Dravink.” Crinnan replied, “Do you have dravink?”
“Dravink...” The innkeeper mumbled as he squinted at the shelves behind him. “Not too many around here indulge in dravink. Tis the favorite drink of Bishop General Sarasin herself… Where are you from?”
“Canrom.” Crinnan said, “And you? Were you born here?”
“No sir.” The innkeeper said, handing Crinnan the drink. “I was born in Southern Kamlot towards the Ariden Sea. On a clear day you could see the peaks of North Barus. It was a lovely place.”
“So why are you here in these dank and depressing ruins?” Crinnan asked, “Why not go back?”
“I tried.” The innkeeper said, “But sometime between my leaving for the academy and my retirement from the army, Marauders razed my village and killed everyone in it. When I returned there about ten years ago all that was left were bones in a pit. My wife's father lives here so this is where we came and this is where I will die.”
“That's dark.” Crinnan said, “Most Black Knights serve until they die, why did you leave?”
“Nobody knows when they're going to die when they live a life full of fighting.” Jethro replied. “I ended up deciding to retire so that I could be with my family.”
“I have heard of people doing that.” Crinnan said, taking a drink of his dravink. “Don't you fear the hells?”
“Sure I do.” The innkeeper said with a smile, “But fighting or not, one day I will end up there. I may as well enjoy my elder years with my family while I still have life in my bones.”
“Makes sense.” Crinnan said.
“Sure does.” The innkeeper replied, leaning against the bar. “So tell me young one, what do they call you.”
“Crinnan… Crinnan Jamiso. And you?”
“Jamiso eh?” The innkeeper repeated with a bit of interest in his voice. “Do you know the general?”
“My father… yes” Crinnan said, “I was the one that was lucky enough to inherit his name.”
“I'm sure you hear all about him.” the innkeeper said with a chuckle, “Sometimes it’s hard for sons to live past their father's legacy. In everyone else's eyes you are who he was when they knew him. I suppose that’s not such a bad thing for you. Your father was hailed the liberator of Exgrane. Mine was known as the embarrassment of Mrask.”
“I suppose I am a bit better off.” Crinnan said, “But everyone expects quite a lot out of me... especially him.”
“Expectations are the fertilizer of maturity.” He said, “Nobody wants their child to fail. I'm sure your father is proud.” Crinnan hummed and took another sip of the dravink.
“So your name...” Crinnan said.
“Ah right.” the innkeeper said, shaking his head, “This brain of mine is distracted at the slightest hint of color. I am Jethro Lowe. I'm happy to meet you Crinnan.” Crinnan nodded his head and set his glass down.
“Good to meet you Jethro.”
“So, Canrom,” He said, leaning against the counter top on his old yet thick arm. “What base do you serve in? Eleven? Twenty-one? Twenty-nine?”
“Twenty-one.” Crinnan replied.
“Ah lovely!” Jethro replied, “How is Commander Emilio?”
“Dead.”
“Oh that's too bad.” Jethro said. “He was a good person, a model knight. Who is the Commander now?”
“Xian the Phoenix.” Crinnan said.
“Xian?” Jethro said, “From the top?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.” Jethro said. “I wonder why they would have chosen Supreme Commander Xian. Or did he volunteer?”
“He wanted to oversee Century Squad and he wanted another Supreme in Redodra.” Crinnan said, “And since Century's home is Twenty-one that was where he went.”
“Very interesting.” Jethro muttered.
“Vice-Commander Card was supposed to take over Emilio's spot.” Crinnan said, “But Card didn't want the job. He said he was content with the duties of a Vice-Commander.”
“Ah Lord Card.” Jethro said, shaking his head, “Such an interesting fellow. I heard him speak at a sword technique assembly in Base Eleven. He certainly does have the gift of the silver tongue. One hells of a swordsman as well.”
“True.” Crinnan said, taking another drink of the dravink. The fire in the fireplace popped and he looked over at it. Seeing the flames flicker in the darkness reminded him of the last moments spent with his squad before they were so violently separated. He wondered where they were and if they were okay...
Crinnan hoped his squad was where he had left them. Surely his dear friends Alec and Elia would not have let Captain Bran leave him behind. Hopefully Bran would not have even considered it. It is against the code to leave a fellow knight.
“So what brings you to my fine establishment m'boy?” Jethro asked, stepping back from the bar. “It's not every day that a Black Knight strolls in here you know.”
“It is a long story.” Crinnan said, shaking his head.
“Well what better time to tell it than now?” He asked. Crinnan thought for a moment and nodded.
“I was separated from my squad sometime late last night.” Crinnan said, “From what I hear I was knocked unconscious and carried some distance by soldiers from the Agra Triangle Corporation. Early this morning a crazy forest hermit found me and now he is taking me back to the Belhaas Caverns to reunite me with my squad.”
“Well you're only twenty or so kilometers away from the caverns m'boy.” he said, “A four or five hours walk. Tell me, what sort of squad are you in? You look like a recon boy.” I
“Century Squad.” C
rinnan said. Jethro raised his brow and let a small grin go.
“You don't say.” He said, leaning back into a bar, “Now that's a feat indeed. Tell me, how did you manage to get into such a pristine team of fighters?” Crinnan groaned at that question for his entrance into the squad was unlike that of any of the other more decorated members.
“There's a new training program that was designed by Captain Bran and his Sergeants: Mace, Marka, and Kavin whom I am sure you have heard of. The program is tailored to groom soldiers into becoming perfect Centurions and I was a part of it from ages nine to nineteen. When I turned nineteen I graduated and was put into Century as soon as an opening was available.”
“As soon as a Centurion died.” Jethro corrected. Crinnan hesitated for a moment but nodded.
“Yes...” Crinnan said uncomfortably. “Davies Renlo was the soldier whose spot I took. He was cut in half about two years ago. I was the last of my friends to get into Century.”
“My oh my.” Jethro said. “So I bet you're damn near ready to find your squad again, eh?” Crinnan nodded his head.
“I mean no offense but I am damn tired of these woods.” Jethro belted out a single syllabled laugh and leaned in close to Crinnan.
“Between you and me,” He said in a hush-hush voice, “So am I.” Crinnan snickered.
He enjoyed talking to Jethro. The innkeeper was the first person he had actually got along with during the whole time he had been away from his squad. Crinnan assumed it was merely and simply because he was a sensible fellow and not an eccentric sociopath or whiny teenager.
“So I'd probably be correct in assuming you didn't come here just to shit around with me am I right?” He asked turning around to a rack of keys. “Did you want a room?” Crinnan got off his stool and nodded.
“Yes I did.” He said, “I will only be here for a few hours though as I want to leave as soon as possible.”
“Well then.” Jethro said, tossing a key at Crinnan. “Don't trash the room and be out of here in a few hours and we won’t have to worry about the bill.” Crinnan caught the key and nodded his head.
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