“The Relcian plague which was a contagious outbreak that occurred during 2610 TE (Triumvirate Era), center of the Regalian Kingdom. Unlike the Gratorian epidemic of 2446 TE, The Relcian contagion spread through consumption of contaminated liquid. The plague was primarily spread through the Cartesian Rivers, which crosses into the main provinces of the Regalian Kingdom from the Northern Frontier of the Continent Artaos. The epidemic killed roughly two-hundred thousand Regalian citizens during the time of 2610 TE to 2614 TE. It was determined to have spread to the Marcian borders, but fortuitously due to the steadfast assistance from Clergymen of Holy Rhaodian Empire and the Medicas of Regalia, the epidemic was chiefly contained by quarantining towns, villages, and cities near the source of the contamination...”

-----------Journal Entry #27 Radolf Almata.

“Blue…? Honey?” A familiar feminine voice peels through the subconscious mind of a young boy, who was sat up sleeping on a wooden bench in a hallway of a two-story building. The boy blurrily rubs his eyes to focus, reckoning to recognize the voice that was calling him. He had an odd dream of red smoke and dead things living. His eerie thoughts of his imaginings made him sat up straighter.

‘Spooky…’

“Blue? Where is my boy?” The same familiar voice calls out again... Recognition hits his frazzled thoughts, the voice that was calling him, was his mother.. ‘But why?’ The boy thought. Why was his mother calling him...? “Oh right!” The young boy, barely over five, bolted up the tall wooden stairs, up to the second story, than jaunted towards his parent’s chambers.

The boy could now recall what and why his mother was calling him. His mother went fat for some strange and frustrating reason, he could not recall but now though, she was going to lose it and become skinny again, and what that would mean, is that she will finally able play with him now; like before. Excited, the boy with grubby fingers nudge the chamber door open, pushing through a sight of red stains, white fabric, and smelly smells. The musky odor of the room nearly made him puke his greens he had this morning onto the wooden flooring. ‘Well sooner the better.’ he smarmily thought, anyways--he never did like his greens.

The boy was gawking at the visage that was before him of aunt Carol who was hovering over his mother which was sat up with pillows on the woolen bed, that was dripping down sweat into a puddle underneath. His mother was holding a small bundle of cloth in her arms when she noticed him. The boy sighed in exaggerated relief when he saw that his mother did not look so fat anymore, though she did look similar to grandma, awhile back when he last time saw her. He could not remember why, but both looked eerily similar to each other--with similar ghostly pallet and sweaty tired brows, as if his mother and grandma carried a surplus of grey stones in their pockets every day, to prove they can.

“Come boy--have a look at your new brother.” Aunt Carol griped, strict and dower as always. ‘New brother?’ The boy wondered. What new brother--how can a brother be new? Did they buy a brand new him? The boy's thoughts were jumbled by his aunt’s odd request, but nonetheless, he hesitantly steps forward to where she was glancing. As he passed her, he saw a happy expression from her dower face. ‘She never looks at me with that face.’ Facing the bundle that his mother was holding; a small sibilant cry came bawling out of the fidgeting bundle.

“Just like his father.” Aunt Carol smiled warmly down at. ‘Whos just like his father?’ The boy thought, enviable. Finally seeing what was inside the woolen blanket, the boy’s eyes widen. It was a very small-small boy, smaller than he was to be in fact. The baby boy was bawling out his cries as if the attention of the world should primarily be on his little shoulders. Now the boy felt like instinctively crying right now--from all the bawling that baby was doing.

“Now-now Blue, don’t you go crying too.” His mother swarmingly scowls, her eyes weary red by her fatigue. “I’m not crying.” The boy lied, tearing up slightly at thought of it.

“Isn’t he beautiful? Green eyes... just like his father.” His mother soothes, snuggling her cheek onto the crying baby’s chubby face. The boy did not think the boy was beautiful, to be in fact, he thought the boy was ugly, with its chubby face, and balding head.

‘How can you be beautiful--if you don’t have any hair.’

His mother’s taste of what she considered beautiful, is very odd; the boy thought. But to be honest, he did envy his baby brother’s green eyes. His father had similar green eyes, unlike his brother, which were glass, his father’s eyes were piercing like hawks on the scent. His father could stare him down to stillness sometimes when the boy did something wrong. His mother’s eyes were brown like meadow bark in autumn light. The boy had neither his parent's eye colors, which had aggravated him during his small lifetime. Now as he gazes down at the little baby before him with similar eyes like his father, he felt alien to his family.

‘I wonder if I could borrow them?’ The boy cleverly thought.

“What’s the boy’s name?” The boy gingerly inquires. He needed to know the baby’s name before he could ask the baby to borrow his eyes for a bit, or better yet trade eyes so he could look more like his father, instead of this chubby, bold baby-boy.

“Your father isn’t home yet to give him a name.” His mother coons, gently stroking the baby boy’s head so lovingly. ‘I want a rub too.’ He thought. “For now, you can call him Green--like how I call you Blue.” His mother smiled with mirth. ‘Darn it!’ The young boy cursed in his thoughts, he could not curse in front of his mother and get his father in trouble; besides how is he going to trade eyes with the baby now... If he manages to get the baby’s green eyes, does that mean he’d be called Green? This was all too confusing for the young boy.

Trying to puzzle out his puzzled thoughts and plans--his mother suddenly halted her cooning. The scene before the young boy, suddenly and haltingly froze. The baby’s constant crying was gone, the open breeze of the curtains blowing was still, all was stilled in motion.

An angry eerie voice voiced out from his mother. “Why...Blue? Why….Blue? Why didn’t you protect him?” Accusation and blood were gushing out from her mouth as she accused him.

The accusing glare his mother gave the boy, made him stand frozen to the utter rage that was burning inside his mother’s once comforting brown eyes. “I did, mother...I did?” The boy stammered. The baby’s bald head mechanically swivels to face the young boy who was now frightened of how alien and horrifying the scene before him.

“Why didn’t you save me, brother?”

“I did, I-I did, I promised! I did!”

Blood began to pour out the boys eyes and mouth, blood was pouring out everywhere. From aunt Carol and her stern visage to the wooden flooring to the white woolen fabrics of the bedding. Blood was everywhere.

Gulcasa green eyes fluttered open to shadowed lights. The dream he just dreamt, sent tingling chills down his spine and agony through his left arm. Where was he? What was that dream he just dream? And where were his glasses? Bubbling questions were zig-zagging across his mind, puzzling him further into panic.

Gulcasa began to struggle up, but could not. He felt confined by something. “What in Regis’s Name?” He cursed out loud. The dream was still confusing his thoughts, but why couldn’t he move. So many questions, so many thoughts, he felt he was a hot cauldron with everything put in and nothing coming out.

A saving thought crossed Raicer's mind--his brother, Raicer. His brother would have known what was happening to him. “Rai...Rai? Bro? Are you there?” He questioned the confusing sounds of his surroundings. Nobody approach, no words but only the silent haze of cluttering noises that greeted him.

A piercing ring soared conscious mind through his audible senses. Gulcasa trying but failing to shake the pulsating noise out from his head by swaying himself from side to side. Everything within Gulcasa's body felt so irritated and pained-especially his left arm, it was so pain-inducing that unbearable for him to breathe. The constant twitching from Gulcasa's left arm didn’t help either. Gulcasa instinctively jostling himself by bouts of spasms, stretching the leather straps that were confining him. Gulcasa's earlobes were racketing his composure, his arms were twitching against the leather straps that were holding him and his entire body. He felt so pained yet angry from his confusing thoughts. He needed his brother, his brother would know what to do, what was going on, what on anything. He just needed his older brother.

Gulcasa tried to grasp any sense of self-control with his body, with what he thought of the mental instructions his father gave his brother and himself when facing head trauma. ‘Close your eyes and count to fifty.’ He whispered his mind to do. Concentrating his focus, the pulsating noise from his earlobes began to dissipate, echoing pain leaving his tormented mind apart.

The sounds of moaning and several other things began prevalent to his senses. There were sobbing, snoring, coughing and wheezing-it was all so...confounding. Opening his eyes slowly allowed him to finally see his surroundings before him, without all the confusing thoughts and pain from his body and mind. Was he in an infirmary? “Toadstools” He cursed under his breath, without his glasses he useless. He could not know where he was, but judging from the noise and the hazy image, his green eyes deign to show, he surmised that he was in someone’s infirmary, but whose?

So many questions were crossing through his thoughts, as he turns his head side to side on his cot. Gulcasa glimpsed another cot by his side. The image of the person on the cot was hazy, but he could tell by the white grey haze of that person, that he was entirely bandaged all over. He was asleep which was a shame to Gulcasa, he really wanted some answers. He idiotically tried to lift himself up again to sit up but was barred down by the leather straps confining his body to the sheets. “Ah shite…” He cursed, deflating into the uncomfy cot below him. Gulcasa finally relented to giving up his quest at that moment to find answers to what was going on.

Gulcasa tried to remember the last time he awoke to the world. His brother was telling him that the Medicas has finally come and that everything was going to be alright. Feeling his shoulders sagging tired, Gulcasa slightly and hazily doze off into empty slumber.

Gingerly waking up from a voice, Gulcasa fluttered his eyes open. A kindly old voice was talking to someone on a cot near him. He could not make out their conversation from his drowsy thoughts but could presume that this should be the medicas that were treating them in this hazy hospice.

The man, garmented in hazy white walk passed Gulcasa’s cot to check another patient. Gulcasa rasp out barely illegible garble to spark the man’s attention. The man turned to the sound and approach the confined Gulcasa.

“You’re awake?” The elderly man says, surprised.

“Yes..” Gulcasa affirm, about famish and thirsty, he requested “Water...please?” The elderly man nodded, took a jug of water from a table near his cot and pour the nuzzle down Gulcasa opened mouth. After taking a few more gulps, the elderly man placed back the jug back down the near table and judged Gulcasa in silent contemplation.

“Who are you?” Gulcasa rasped out.

“I am the medicas of this fair hospice, my young lad. Medicas Doctor Radolf Almata of Cai’arnbridge. It’s a pleasure to meet you…?”

“Gully...ah--Gulcasa Lacea.” Gulcasa stuttered. He felt slightly embarrassed of the nickname his brother gave him but pressed on his informal introduction. “I would shake your hand, but I'm in a bit of a bind at the moment.” He snarkily said.

“Oh, pardon me, young lad. But when they brought you in, your whole body was convulsing quite frantically, Lad. So, my fellow Medicas and I had to bind you into the cot, so you could not fall into the ground and damage yourself any further.” Medicas Radulf said, severely.

A thought races through Gulcasa mind of his brother Raicer. “My brother? Was he the one who brought me in?” Gulcasa inquired, he presumed that his brother was the one who brought him here.

“I don’t know about that young lad. You were brought in by the perimeter soldiers who were guarding the camps.” Medicas Radulf informed.

“My brother? Wait….Whose camp is this?” Gulcasa hesitantly ask. “This is the lord Baron Recrest of Registrar... young lad, no need to worry yourself.”

Gulcasa took a relieved sigh at the news. He considered that he was in the Renfort’s Military camp, but thank Regis, he was in the army where he was enlisted with his brother.

“Doctor, do you know where my brother went off to?”

“Your brother?”

“Yes. My brother is an Officer of the 98th Regiment of the Red.” Gulcasa announced proudly.

The Medicas face paled at the name of the Regiment. “The 98th…” He murmured, glancing away from Gulcasa’s proud look. Gulcasa lifting an eyebrow as he notices the Medicas dower mood.

“Why is there a problem? My brother is Captain Raicer Lacea--” “--I’m sorry, lad.”

“Sorry for what?” Gulcasa inquired with brows drawn.

“From what I heard, and what is confirmed now…is that…”

“Is what?”

“You are the only survivor from the 98th Regiment of the Red.” The Medicas informed gingerly.

“No...you are wrong, my Brother was the one who brought me here. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Gulcasa with growing consternation replied. “Lad…”

“My brother must have not told you that he was from the 98th.”

“Lad…”

“What!?” Gulcasa frustrated with the Medicas information, burst out.

The Medicas, timidly brushing his brow with his wrinkle hand said stoically. “You were brought it by the perimeter guards, who had happened to have to stumble upon you near the camp.”

Gulcasa mystified said. “What about my brother? Wasn’t he here there? I could have sworn--”

“--It was just you, Lad…It was just you...” Radulf gloomily confirms.

Gulcasa denying the Radulf’s words, begun to shake his head. He tried to desperately unscramble he befuddle memories of the battlefield and aftermath of the said battlefield; but could not for the life of him, untangled his frayed mind.

‘Rai…Rai…’ Gulcasa still searching for any memories he could find of Raicer in the said battlefield.

The thought of his brother, a man who fought tooth and nail for his officership, a brave and heroic figure, lost in the mountains of bodies the battlefield wrought… Gulcasa took a stubborn grunt with a sense of solid faith of his brother that he was alive, against the fraying realization of his mind. He mentally stood up to his doubts with a newfound optimism for his brother.

Radolf seeing Gulcasa appearance of feigning stability nodded his head to the boy with a sign of admirations; for how he took his brother’s death. “Well...Lad, I’ll leave you be for a while. People should have their moment to grieve for the fallen, as such, as is…”

A sudden memory spiraled into Gulcasa’s head. He was on a battlefield, his side was injured. He had a rapier on his right hand and a half-sword with an odd foreign crest on its pommel. He felt tired, so very tired, yet focused on what he should do. “As such, As Is.” Three men garb in blurry steel plate, marched to him with the intent for violence. The memory fades out from Gulcasa eyes, as he watches Radolf back, walking away past the blurry boundary of his vision.

Trying to unscramble the memory he has no recollection of having, he tried yet fail to unravel his more than fraying thoughts. ‘Am I going insane?’ Gulcasa horrifyingly thought to himself. Another sudden memory spiraled into Gulcasa’s head, the irony taste of blood on his lips and a huge bleeding gash on his sides. He felt that he was going to die at that moment. The dribble of blood, spark an awareness he did not know he had. Through all the pain and tiredness he felt, the blood was plastered all over his thoughts.

Alien symbols began to pop into the corner of his peripheral vision, like old paper prints stamping into his skull. The symbols were red which were contrasted by the blur of his vision of the background that was before him.

{User: ⊪ ⊫ ⊯ ⋥ 001… Host Corruption}

{Class Rank: ⊪ ⊫ ⊯ ⋥ 001}

{Strength: 12 +} {Constitution: 11 +} {Dexterity: 12 +} {Intelligence: 15 +}{Perception: 8 +}

{Stat Points: 73 +}