Chapter 36

The Burden

Now, how do I describe it?

A screech? A roar? I don't know.

It was loud, that’s for sure. Loud like thunder trapped in an acoustic horn, played over and over until it stopped, as sudden as it had started. My eardrums would’ve bursts if I hadn’t made a sound-dampening barrier, which I didn’t even know how to make, it just happened instinctively.

“Ugh, what in the goddess’ twat?”

I look to my side and see Zethran looking as confused as I am. Whereas normal humans would’ve been bleeding from their ears already, he seems fine just by covering his ears. Damn monks.

At any rate, the source of that… “roar”, I guess, is clear, as well as why it had stopped; the supposedly dead alpha, and the spear that pierced precisely into its throat. The man holding the spear then pulls it out with one clean yank.

“You missed a spot,” Douqi said as he flips his spear to get the blood off.

“Douqi? Ah, yeah… but, what was that just now? A last death cry?”

He asked that question to me, to which I answer, We need to run.

They both understand what I’m speaking of. That death cry wasn’t just a death cry. It’s a warning, an announcement that was broadcasted throughout the vale. And now everyone and everything that heard would have known about Akulay’s death, along with our location.

The three of us quickly make our way back to where Ranlan is. When we arrive, we find her already with an out cold Anlong on her back, ready to make a getaway.

“What happened? What was that sound?” she asked.

“No time to yap. We need to get the hell out of here,” Zethran answered.

“Ah, yeah. I figured as much, but did you get the ugly toad?”

“We did,” he said as he swipes Anlong off her back and carries him with one arm. “But now we have to go.”

Ranlan nods, then points at me. “Douqi!”

What?

“Well, no choice, then.” (Douqi)

Eh?

And suddenly I’m in Douqi’s arms being carried. Wait, what?

“Let’s move!” Zethran shouted, and then we’re on the move.

It can’t be. After all this time, I’m finally carried by someone the “proper” way. And by that Douqi, nonetheless. I appreciate being treated like a girl for a change, but isn’t this bothersome? Wouldn’t a piggyback or slung over the shoulders be better?

“This is fine,” he said as if reading my mind.

“Anlong will cry if he sees this,” Ranlan giggled.

--- --- ---

The rain falls heavier by the minute as if to hide the presence of the beasts around us. I can hear Douqi’s rugged breath as he carries me as well as my friends’ footsteps, their feet sinking into mud as they run with their visions obstructed by the rain. The previously silent forest comes to life around us—chirpings of birds become roars of beasts, and howls and growls cover the singing of insects.

We know they’re coming. We know the rain won’t slow them as it does us, and we know we’re all too drained after our fight with the alpha. Even if I’m being optimistic, I can’t imagine us outrunning the horde. I didn’t expect the alpha to have that kind of last resort, to call upon its allies upon its death… a mistake on my part. I missed that, and now my friends will pay the price for that negligence.

“…The grotto,” Ranlan said.

The what?

“Oh, shit, she’s right,” Zethran exclaimed.

“Fay, we won’t make it back like this, but Fahjer’s Hollow is just south of here, half the distance to the perimeter. If we can get to it, we can lose the beasts in the Heavenly Steps!” she said.

Fahjer’s Hollow.

I’ve been there once. It’s one of the myriad of entrances to the stone-web. The climb is narrow, and to enter you must go through a grotto. That place, I remember, has long corridors of multiple levels and minimal lighting to light the way. The bottom level through which you enter is always flooded up to the knee. Not to mention, it’s located further south, deeper into the demon’s territory.

No way, that place is a death trap.

“We’re already in one.”

We won’t make it past the cave, Ran. Too many places to get ambushed in. Too many beasts.

“Not unless someone lures the beasts away.”

It’s clear whom she meant by “someone”, but Zethran goes against it anyway, saying, “I’ll do it.”

Ranlan stops running as she faces him, and we follow suit. “It’s my idea. And I’m the fastest," she insists.

“Then I’ll go with.”

“Douqi can’t carry both Fay and Anlong, you realize?”

If you think she won’t make it, you should go with her, Zeth. I can run by myself.

“No, you can’t. Shut up, Fay," Ranlan glared me down.

“They’re coming,” Douqi warned, followed by screeching noises and suddenly we realize how little our time is.

“Go!” Ranlan shouted.

Zethran stops her just as she’s about to run.

“Take this,” he said, giving her some kind of necklace he’d been keeping who knows where.

It’s a bright-red round ornament the size of a thumb that’s attached to a string, but from the feel of it, it must be filled with mana, indoctrinated mana infused for a very specific purpose.

She reluctantly takes the object. “Uh… I appreciate the sentiment, Zeth, but─”

“It’s not like that, moron. That’s a mana stone I asked Anlong to make. Supposedly it’s worth nearly one uberlec.”

Ranlan nearly drops the stone when she hears that. “Anlong? Why would… how did you even get permission for this?”

“I didn’t.” He turns to me, “can you confirm the stone’s power?”

It… explodes, I guess?

“Yeah, that much is clear, you incompetent magfus.”

A mana stone deliberately created to be dangerously volatile. A mana grenade, in all intents and purposes. Easy to make if you're a magus as long as the right materials are procured. The magi call them gimcracks, little more than your common bauble because of how impractical they are compared to making instant, albeit weaker fireballs. And don't get me started on the hazard of spontaneous combustions. It's a real risk, I know for a fact, because I made one such stone and it went bombastic in the lab when I left it overnight. Teacher thought it was one of her glowstone specimen, but really it was gimcrack I made in secret.

Umm... don't tell teacher.

Judging from the concentration, this particular gimmy is probably as strong as one of my superior firebulbs, strong enough to blow a house to cinders.

This guy... he must've bullied the heck out of Anlong to make it for him.

“Pull the string and count to five. Just make sure you don’t get caught in it,” Zethran said.

Ranlan narrows her eyes, thinking whether to take such a dangerous thing with her but shakes the thought off in the end. If one is about to lead a horde of hungry monsters into a merry chase, any help should be taken.

“Got it,” she complied.

“Are you sure you want to go alone?”

Ranlan gives us her signature smile, mockingly tilting her head as she answers, “You slowpokes will just slow me down.”

Then she runs off, not giving us a chance for a comeback.

Douqi is on the move again, still carrying me. I watch Ranlan’s back as it goes smaller into the distance and dread fills me. She may be the best of Jade, but she doesn’t know what it means to go after a demon. She doesn’t know what they’re capable of.

“She’ll be fine,” Zethran mouthed, more to himself than to anyone else. “She was right. I’ll only slow her down,” he looks at me as if asking for my confirmation.

I won’t stop you.

He cocks his head at Anlong whom he carries on his back. “No, I get it. You want me to realize it myself. That’s why you said that back then, right?”

I keep silent.

“’If you think she won’t make it, you should go with her.’ In other words, I should trust in her power to make it out alive. That’s what you were trying to say, right?”

…Is that what he thinks?

I keep silent again, hoping that he’ll take neither confirmation nor denial from me. Because I meant what I said.

( If you think she won’t make it, you should go with her. )

Because I truly don’t know. I don’t know how it will turn out. That’s why I let Zethran make his own decision, because I don’t know whether her plan would work, or whether it was the last time I’ll ever see Ranlan’s smile.

◊ ◊ ◊

We were ambushed as I’d predicted. However, no beasts from the forest came after us, so it wasn’t the tidal waves on our backs like I thought it would be. We took care of the few beasts there and by the time we got up to the stone-web, we were free of pursuers.

“Her plan worked out,” Zethran chuckled.

We slowed our pace once we’re up on the webs, partly because we needed to take a breath, and also because the fog is thicker when the rain is heavy. Fortunately, it also meant that I’m allowed to walk on my own.

“Ugh… where…?” Anlong said upon waking up, and Zethran promptly dropped him to the ground. “Where’s Ranlan?” he asked right after out of his sleepy daze.

“She went on a separate route.”

Anlong being sharp as he is probably realized what Zethran really meant. Maybe that’s why he didn’t ask any further.

We continued through the stone-web, hopping between floating rocks in the cold, obscuring fog for some time. We were going slower than we’d like because the rain increased the threat of slippage. What good is it to escape beasts only to slip and fall to our deaths? That time spent getting our balances, to eye our footings before jumping over were time spent agonizingly. We were tired, we wanted to get home asq quick as possible and that thick, colorless fog does nothing to ease our minds.

But then we see it.

The fog cleared, and we’re finally in view of the the Panear Line, the great ridge that split the vale into two, where the main operations camp should be, where teacher and the elders are stationed at. What we see instead are trails of smoke, coming up from a great wreckage of villages, both below and above along the ridge. The villages below the ridge, though… they weren’t wreckages. They were graveyards. Everything south of the ridge are buried under an exorence of dirt, as if it was hit by a landslide of historical magnitude.

“What is that?” Zethran asked.

“Seems like a landslide,” Douqi replied.

“Yeah, I can fucking see that. What caused it?”

“We should go further north, towards Acquisition,” Anlong cut in.

“Now why the hell would we go there?”

“The brief said, should the main operations camp be compromised, the command will move to the second assembly point, which is the Hall of Acquisition.”

“Huh? Did they really say that?”

“Yes. I paid attention, unlike someone else.”

Taking Anlong's words into heed, we take a detour and changed our destination. We considered waiting for Ranlan at the ridge, but there’s no telling if anything’s already waiting for us there.

We start climbing down from the stone-web at the nearest exit to the Acquisition, the climb Jade usually takes when about to do the Tenrin test. It’s a route we’re so used to, but going through it in this kind of emergency brings about a feeling we can’t explain. The climb down is even more painful than the hops—each move we make, each drop is made so slowly and carefully. Between the rain and our exhaustion, anything could go wrong.

Then, when we’re finally back on the ground, an arrow is shot at our feet to halt our movements. Not even a second of rest.

“Who goes there?!” someone called out.

“Put that away! Beasts don’t walk on two feet!” someone else said.

“Actually, some does. But they’re not hairy enough to be treewalkers, I guess.”

While we’re still trying to make sense of it, two men jumps down from the trees above, one with a bow, and the other with a lance. From their light clothing and armor, they seem to be from the court of arms.

“Identify yourselves,” the one with the bow demanded.

“We’re Jade scribes from Acquisition. We just got back from a special mission,” Zethran replied.

“What special mission?”

“Reconnaissance. Now if you would excuse us? We have a lot to report.”

The two arms look at each other.

“How do we know if they’re telling the truth?” bow said.

“Why are we even discussing this? They’re human, what does it matter?” lance replied.

“But they might be spies or…”

“Spies your nuts! Do you think outsiders would know about the Jade system?”

“Ahem. Excuse me, I’m Anlong, son of Elder Anmal,” he butted in, raising his face so the two can see him clearly.

“Anmal? Is this kid telling the truth?”

“Why would I know what his son looks like?”

Zethran steps forward this time, his large frame towering over the two older men.

“Listen, here. We’re at war, and every second you spent bickering is a battle lost. Who cares if we’re really who we say we are? We just came out of beast territory and came down from the Heavenly Steps, does that not say enough about what we can do to help? Why don’t you take us to the drachtal in charge, or point us the right way.”

The two look at each other again. Zethran sighs, frustrated.

“Or, we can just cap the crap out of you two and be on our way,” he added.

The guards let us through after that, maybe because we managed to convince them, or maybe because they’re not fond of personally meeting Zethran’s benevolent fists. We quickly make our way to Acquisition, though I finally lost the strength in my legs on the way there, falling oh-so-gracefully into the mud.

Anlong seems to have fully recovered from the neurotoxin because he’s the one carrying me after that, the same way Douqi did. This time, though, it feels very uncomfortable for some reason. Maybe because he has this triumphant smile on his face, which he tries to hide but fails?

“Disgusting,” I heard Zethran muttering, but Anlong doesn’t seem to mind it, if he even heard it. Or rather, where exactly are you touching with your hands? Anlong, your image is plumetting in my mind. Your fans will be disappointed.

Thankfully, my torment didn't last long. When we arrive, the Acquisition we know of is no longer there. Instead, we find a fortified battlement ready for war. Trenches are dug out in multiple lines, almost every one filled with spikes. Makeshift towers are built on every entrance. I can see bowmen on every one of them, always keeping a watchful eye of the forests around them. There’s a lot of traffic going in and out the entrances, the gap between the trenches—wagons carrying supplies, and arms ushered here and there, everything was chaotic.

We consult the first drachtal we encounter. They’re easy to find—drachtals always wear long robes, even in war. We said we had “valuable intel” and he directs us to some other drachtal. That guy, in turn, said to get our report to someone in the main operations camp.

“Isn’t this it?” Anlong asked.

“No, the elders are at the Panear Line. Well, they were, before the beasts overran it. Who knows where they’re at now? Run along, brats. I’ve got things to do,” the drachtal said, waving us away.

Then we search for someone else and spot someone who seems important when we enter the hall. He along with several others are circling a table with a large map of the vale on it.

“Who let you in?” he asked back.

“We let ourselves in,” Zethran replied.

“This isn’t your playground anymore. Go away, don’t bother the adults."

--- --- ---

“Adults, fucking unreliable, the lot of them,” Zethran cursed. “How could they kick us out without even listening to what we have to say?”

“It can’t be helped. The last time the vale is under an assault of this scale is… I don’t know. A very long time ago? We’re not prepared for this. I mean, just look at that,” Anlong points at the spike-filled trenches.

“Did it come to their minds that we’re bottlenecking our enemies as much as our own forces? It’s a matter of time before some wagon slips into the spikes, or for people to slip in panic when the beasts─”

“Okay, okay, I get it. So what do we do now?”

Ah, good question. No one seems to know what’s going on, so going to any drachtal is just a waste of time. We need to find the elders.

You guys split up and ask around, find out where the elders are. I’ll wait for you back here in half an hour.

They do as I told. As the others go their own way, I find a tree to stand under and wait there. I can’t even find a place to sit because they moved the benches to make space, and even then people still bump me time to time.

This isn’t a school anymore. This is a fortress. They seem to know how to deal with beasts, at least—limit the entry points, create bottlenecks, and let the mindless animals charge themselves to death. Of course, those spikes won’t do much against a demon. What are they planning for when the horde comes? What are all those supplies for? If they're preparing for a siege, then... there's no "then", anymore. They'd be gone before Thalvos' storm even arrives.

After some time, I notice the increasing traffic. There’s more and more people entering the barricade—villagers and refugees. At first, they come in small groups of no more than ten, but that number keeps increasing until it becomes a river. The camp is already packed like those little-fish cans in the posh coaches. How many more are they going to let in?

As I think about that, the bell rings.

“Beasts, on the outer perimeter!” someone said, ignorant to what his words would cause.

--- --- ---

The screaming filled the air so quickly. One by one, the refugees started running inside the camp and one by one, the others followed. Suddenly it’s all I can do to stay up on my feet. I’m caught in a raging river with no choice to go with its flow, all the while I can hear the guards shouting,

“Everyone, calm down! It’s not an attack!”

No one heard it, of course. These people were probably there on the fringe villages when the first wave attacked. To them, the warning bells meant calamity, and that means my own as well.

I’m tired. My legs won’t keep me up for long. The river, the sea swallows me faster than any beast could. I can’t even see what’s in front of me, and it takes everything I have to keep my head up so that I can breathe.

Someone knocked my head from behind. I think it’s someone’s elbows, from the feel of it, someone in the same situation as I am; trapped, frantic, nowhere to go in this ocean of humanity. I feel my vision darken, ringing in my ears as the back of my head throbs. One fall, one tiny slip is all it takes to seal my fate, and here I am falling.

But someone grabbed my hand before that happened. Before I can see who, I’m already being led through the crowd. In that pandemic chaos, that hand that firmly grips mine becomes the only thing I can see, the only thing I can feel.

--- --- ---

I let my knees fall to the ground as I take deep breaths. My savior does the same. His well-defined face looks spent, still he takes the effort to not take his eyes off me, checking if I was okay.

Thank you, Anlong, I said, for the first time regretting that he can’t hear me. Just how many times has he saved me today?

“Berwen,” he muttered between breaths.

What?

“That’s where the elders went. Berwen, a village to the north of here.”

“I got the same,” Douqi said, appearing behind me like the ghost he is.

I nod at them.

Then that’s where we’ll be heading.

But before we can even stand up, another bell is rang. A different bell.

We look at the entrances to see the second wave of refugees coming, more than twice the previous number, approaching the camp. The guards stop them before they could get in.

“Stop! This place is full, go back to your designated areas,” he said to the person in front of the group, which seems to be part of the court of arms himself.

“We’re from Hijirn’s camp. It was overrun by beasts. Please let us in.”

“Impossible. The only place where the beasts could pass in large numbers is through the ridge, and we’re still defending it.”

“Bullshite, there were hundreds of them!”

“We have to go,” Anlong said, sensing what I too see coming; another, bigger flood of refugees. The people inside the camp are already stirring upon hearing those last words.

“Calm down,” the guard said. “We’ll send reinforcements back with you to deal with the beasts.”

“’Deal with them?’ No, I’m telling you, the perimeter is broken! They’re through, and they’ll be here any minute!”

That did it.

The refugees begin to shout at each other. The guard, that poor man, is shoved into the spikes by the people trying to get in. The refugees already inside stand their ground, acting like they own the place even though they only arrived hours, even minutes ago. The ones at the front face each other, shouting their respective arguments about who should stay, not realizing that by the time a decision is made, the drachtals will have already abandoned this place.

Yes, the drachtals are leaving. I can see them already sneaking their leadership outside the camps and onto horse backs. Their jobs may be to defend people, but who can do the defending if the very people you were supposed to protect kills you first?

We have to go! I said, motioning at a wagon without a coach.

“Where’s Zethran?” Anlong asked, and as if on cue, a shout comes.

“You guys go! I’ll stay here!” Zethran said from within the chaos.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Just go! I’ll wait here for Ranlan!”

Perhaps understanding something I couldn’t, Anlong nods at him, then takes my hands again as we run towards the wagon. I look back to see Zethran running towards the fighting, trying to stop the refugees from killing one another.

We get on the wagon, which seems to have cargo in it—supplies, fruits and bran, but mostly spices.

“No one will miss this,” Anlong said to himself as he takes up the coach’s seat and starts the horses.

Fortunately, the waves of refugees are coming from the south, opposite to where we’re going. We do, however, pass by the dracthals that sneaked out of the camp. They call out to us, but Anlong ignores them.

“The arms are staying to stabilize the camp and here they’re running away, the supposed ‘leaders’. Cowards.”

◊ ◊ ◊

We spent most of the trip in silence. Anlong knew where we’re going and didn’t need help with coaching, so we kept to ourselves, taking advantage of the wagon's cargo to replenish our energy. It wasn’t until we reached the northern pass that Anlong began to spoke,

“All those people back there, where will they go?”

I’m sure he was just talking to himself. He couldn’t have been expecting Douqi to answer, and certainly not me.

“They were… they were ready to kill each other for something like temporary safety. How could anyone turn against their own at a time like this?”

It’s clear from his voice that he’s shaken from what happened earlier. I suppose it's clear, given his age, that he's never once been in a crisis, nor does he know how people react to it. For those fighting, the enemies are clear. But for those in the back, those kept in the dark would have different enemies.

Where's my family? Where should I go to get protection? Is there enough food for everyone? Those kind of worries, when given a little nudge, can push someone over the line.

In a way, being on the frontlines is a privilige because those kind of worries don't exist. There's only one enemy, and all you need to do is to survive to the next day, and the next, until the war is over.

Still, Anlong's monologues are making me think. Sure, we killed the alpha, but then what? There were two alphas, not the mention the feared demon. Who’ll kill them? And what happened to the ridge, to the main operations camp? Then what about that thing about the beasts breaking through the perimeter? If it’s true, then it’s the second time in one day, because I know the first perimeter should be south of Panear, and we know that place is already smoking. And also, Ranlan…

No, more urgently, what do we do upon arriving in Berwen? Who should we find, if we do find anyone, and what do we tell them? That we disobeyed orders, went rogue and killed an alpha on our own? Who the hell would believe that?

While in my thoughts, the wagon stops and I realize we’ve arrived. Well, maybe. We can’t even get close because there’s so many carts already lined at the road, probably with the same destination.

“We’re here,” Anlong looks at me, “my home, that is.”

Right. Berwen is where Anlong grew up, where he still is.

After putting the wagon at the roadside, we walk on foot into the village, a whole fifteen-minute walk, just to see the village’s entrance. There’s many people here, but it’s not nearly as crowded as Acquisition was. It’s a rather small village, too small and simple for something like an operations command. You’d never think the elders are somewhere here, inside one of these wooden buildings.

“The village hall,” Anlong points at the largest building, “if the elders are here, that’s where they’ll be.”

Walking towards the hall, we see more and more familiar faces as we go closer. We notice some from Jade, and they notice us but says nothing, not even greet their formerly missing friends. Their faces are nothing like I remember—sunken, lifeless eyes, face as pallid as a faean, they’re nothing like the other kids I knew. Actually, I doubt they can be called kids anymore.

“What the hell happened…?” Anlong said, noticing his friends as well.

“…Fay?” a familiar voice called.

I look towards it, and guarding the village hall’s doors is Karyat, confused as he always is.

“M─Mentor,” Anlong stutters, “I’m sorry, w─we were─”

“Where the hell have you been?” Karyat asked, not to us, but to me and me alone.

He’s nothing like I’ve seen him before. The previous Karyat would never dare to bare his fangs to Inzhi’s precious apprentice, yet here he is, presenting hostility at me. Looks like it wasn’t just the kids that grew up.

I was away, doing what needed to be done.

“I was searching for you. Your teacher, we thought you were─” he stops himself, as if afraid to say anything further. Then he finally notices my companions.

“You guys?”

“Mentor, we killed one of the alphas,” Douqi said nonchalantly.

Despite what I thought, Karyat calmly asks us, “When?”

“Three, four hours ago.”

“…The beasts?”

“They came only after we killed it.”

“…Follow me,” he said quietly, and we do just that.

Karyat leads us into the village hall, opening its heavy doors and closing it back after we’re in. Inside is a similar set-up we saw in the Acquisition—a large table with a map of the vale on it, surrounded by important-looking people. Except that I recognize these people; Ginny Oldface, Gaolad Mopface, Jerchah Milksop, and one other elder whose name I don’t know. Last but not least, Anlong’s daddy, Anmal Churchbell. Forgive me for the names. It’s so that I can remember them better… ah.

Latasha, you’re a genius.

“What is this?” Gaolad Mopface asked, clearly insulted by the sudden intrusion.

“Forgive me for interrupting, elders, but I think these children need to speak with you.”

“Who are they?”

“The people who stopped the Panear raid.”

“The what?” (Anlong)

“Hmm? Isn’t this your child, Elder Anmal?” (Gaolad)

“Anlong? What’s going on?” (Anmal Churchbell)

“Go ahead,” Karyat urged him, “report to them everything.”

--- --- ---

We told them. Carefully, chronologically, about how my friends escaped Jade, and how I escaped Karyat. How we decided to hunt an alpha on our own initiative, the hordes of beasts that came after, as well as how we escaped by using Ranlan as bait. That last part was the hardest to report.

“And where is she now?”

“I don’t know,” Anlong replied.

“…You? Aren’t you Fay? Inzhi’s apprentice?” Ginny Oldface asked me.

I am.

“Your teacher was searching for you. You should go meet her.”

I will.

“I mean now. Let your friends finish the report.”

I look at Karyat and he nods at me. “I’ll take you to her.”

An uncomfortable silence fills the room as if they all wait for my answer.

I don’t like this. There’s something unspoken between them, something about teacher they’re keeping quiet about.

…Okay, I said, figuring the fastest way to know is to meet with her.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m afraid of her. It’s just… meeting her again after what happened last time is something I need to prepare for. I guess I’ll just have to improvise.

I follow Karyat as he leads me through the dark hallways. The wooden walls somewhat dampens the sound of rain, but the windows do not. They enhance it, if anything.

Karyat opens a door to another room, the dining room, large and filled with long tables, with a single, wide furnace warming and lighting the room.

The room is empty aside from one person sitting at the table, with a bowl of soup left untouched in front of her. Her eyes is locked to something I can’t see, her fingers gripping the spoon motionlessly. I can’t tell if she’s actually awake. She probably didn’t even realize we entered the room.

Come on, Fay. Take a deep breath.

“Inzhi,” Karyat called out. No answer.

Karyat tries again, “it’s your pupil.”

Still no answer, as if his voice didn't even reach her ears.

...Teacher?

This time, her head jerks towards us, and when she sees me, she… I don’t know. I can’t see her face because the hearth is behind her.

She stands up and walks towards us, and I instinctively take a step back.

Is she angry? What do I say to justify myself? I try to think up words to defend myself, meanwhile she walks closer and closer to me.

What’s the worst can she do, shout at me? Maybe slap me again? If so, then I’m ready for it.

Hell, give it all you got, because I don’t regret it one bit. I don’t regret not becoming your obedient pet. Go ahead, I’m ready.

--- --- ---

…Or so I thought, ready for anything she’d give me.

I never expected for her to hug me so tightly, nor did I expect her to bawl her heart out into my chest.

She’s not saying anything, not one word. She only cried... and cried, and cried. It’s all I can do to wrap my hands around her, gently tapping her to make sure she knows I’m here, that she’s not alone.

I know what this is. I know from her shaking body, from her desperate attempts to stop her own screams from coming out, which she is failing at. I know what’s happening to her because I was her. I still am. That’s why it’s so painful, because I know whatever I do won’t change anything. Whatever I do, this, whatever it is, will still scar her forever.

◊ ◊ ◊

I watch her breathe as she lies on the bed, the gentle rising and falling of her chest, vigilant as if I’m afraid she’d suddenly stop breathing. Can you blame me for being afraid?

The teacher I know was strong and proud, always so sure of herself. Even if it meant she was controlling me, I was still proud of her. I was proud to call myself her pupil. But this person, the woman that cried herself to sleep in my arms…

This isn’t my teacher anymore.

I’m sorry, I said as I caress her head.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.

I don’t want to leave her alone, but there’s nothing more I can do for her. I stand up, slip past Karyat and walk out into the corridors. I can hear him following behind.

“Don’t you have questions?” he asked.

Oh, I do, but not for you.

I keep walking in silence, not looking back as I make my way. It took me opening two wrong doors before I let Karyat lead me back to where the elders are.

Arriving back, I see that Anlong and Douqi is still here, sitting quietly while watching the elders debate on their next move. They were shouting at each other, yet they stop when they notice us coming.

“So?” Ginny asked. “How did it go?”

“Not good,” Karyat answered.

Before they can say anything else, my “voice” drowns theirs.

What happened?

It’s not a question. It’s a demand, and I make sure they know it.

“It’s rather hard to explain,” Gaolad answered while stroking his beard, still maintaining his elder persona effortlessly. Well, we’ll see if you can keep that up.

I don’t need to hear their answer, anyway. I know what happened. That landslide at the ridge, the “raid” they mentioned earlier, and the fact that teacher is a geomancer—The geomancer. I have all I need to piece it together.

It’s kind of relieving to see that kind of expression on all their faces. Shock, fear, utter denial that everything’s happening in front of them. It’s their mistake to not immediately kick me out the vale, and an even worse mistake to let me see teacher like that.

One firebulb for each one—seems rather wasteful, but a befitting end for the people who hurt her, made her bear a burden she could never take. I’ll stand on their ashes as I say to them… what will I say, exactly? Ah, well. That’s not important.

Of course, Jerchah Milksop is the first to go for the door, so I launch a steambulb at the exit and use a barometric barrier to keep it there. The rest of the oldies are just... watching, waiting to see what I’ll do next. That's what you do, right? Wait around as your people die, hoping something good will happen to change the tide.

Someone is shouting my name. That guy and the one next to him have nothing to do with all this, so would you please go away? I don’t care if you get yourself caught in the fire─

─Ah, looks like someone has some guts, holding my hands behind my back in an attempt to restrain me. It must be idiot Karyat. Does he not realize that all I need to maintain my magic is a conscious mind? He’ll be the first to burn for his ignorance. Ginny is next for betraying his friend. After that, everyone else.

“Stop it.”

…This voice.

I thought he was dead.

I turn to look at the entrance and there he is, not dead. He broke through the door and even ran through my steam, yet his gaze is still strong as ever.

...Was he there as well? Was he one of the people that hurt her? Because if he is, I’d be very, very disappointed.

I’ll just threaten him with a firebulb for now—was what I meant to do, if his fist wasn’t already on the way.

…Huh? Deja vu?

Ah, that’s right. It was at the guild back in Tarnlake, right after I saw Ichard and Aira through that window. I lost it then too, would’ve probably burned the building to the ground if that bear guy hadn’t knocked me out, just like what’s happenin─

- Thunk -