He looked around before finding himself alone. Gabrio’s role in the Lighthouse Fleet had always been about his role as a healer. There are only a few times where he could venture out when allowed. He was not averse to battle, but they say that he has a role to fulfill that needed to be done.

The artillery of the fleet. The new cannons and mortars made alongside the skyships made by the Fleet have been instrumental in keeping the interstice at bay.

They came suddenly at dawn, Gabrio wrote in his journal. When the darkness covered the part of the Island and the rest of the fleet was sleeping. But the Sprite as our allies have been instrumental to our victories. They are our guidance. Our shining light as the enemies try to come for the Fleet.

Gabrio uncorked a bottle and drank. One could say that the treants have been our suppliers. Our constant workforce that keeps on creating the weapons needed. Datu and I had an idea alongside the elven-kin about creating automatic factories, relying on the tireless labor of the Treant.

Even now the tireless laborers were creating ammunition for the fleet. With the Tundrae available and the resources of the island at disposal. The fleet had been rather rabid in the gathering.

It has been quite a while since I got used to it. But the elven-kin are not a people that lived as savagely as we thought they would. Many of the newer kin and the generation has been used to their ways -- which baffles every youngling of the Fleet. Our prejudiced thoughts nothing more than fantasy to the elven-kin who are wise and smart enough to understand the need of infrastructure and the creation of servants.

Gabrio started to wonder again. How terrible of an opponent the Elven-kin was and how terrifying the Chancellor of AON to triumph against the elven-kin. There are even times where Gabrio sincerely thought they’d let him win, but Mana seems to disagree.

She said that the Chancellor of Aon was a devious man with the wisdom and knowledge of sages. To win against the Chancellor of Aon would have been the greatest honor one would get.

I realize now that without them. We wouldn’t have reached this far. And even if we did, we would have been far too focused on survival than reaching our goal. We would have been driven mad. And I can only imagine how it would feel.

Gabrio stopped. He takes a look at the distance where the sounds of a mortar fire sounded out. The earth shaking tremors of the guns made by Datu were quite something. The fleet naturally became militaristic as years passed by, and because of this they were able to have discipline. Each one armed to the teeth if needed.

Our guns are keeping the darkness at bay. The magic of the Elven and the blue blooded has also been the protective wall that keeps them away from us.

Gabrio kneaded his forehead. The lamp made from the flowers blooming from the back of Arkshelled Island had been helpful in days where he had to laid his thoughts on paper.

He smiled slightly at the thought of the writing sticks he had made. If it wasn’t for the days passing and the brilliant minds who could conjure up what he had seen in his dreams sometimes. He wouldn’t have such a pen to use. He does make a hobby of creating pens in his time off and even had Mana help out in making sure that the pens are sturdy.

Another explosion rang out. He could hear the sounds coming beyond the jagged crowns surrounding the Tundrae. He was in Bluefur, the settlement close to Galiford. The areas around Rokata have become a factory while the people currently in Suvanza and Migoe were watching over these factories as they produce what the fleet needed to keep up the defenses around the jagged Crowns of Gukhar.

Our defenses are holding up. The enemy comes from the water most of the time so our guns are able to pummel them before landfall. There are diggers, but we manage to find them through the Sprites.

And although the Fleet is confident that it can do well even with the assistance of the Elven-kin. But the fleet has long lost its pride and most of the generation that grew up wary and ill-willed towards the Elven-kin are gone. There are some who are able to keep the stories of their fathers even now. But they understood well how their lives are in the hands of the Elven-kin.

Gabrio stopped to look at the Gray Sprites hovering around the lamp before dissipating.

As for the Blinder of Light, he seems to sleep still. His condition has remained stable and his heartbeat has stopped beating wildly as ever. Though observations have been made that whenever the monsters are coming, his heart would react violently, which I understood as the natural reaction of his massive power charging him up for a fight.

It was a supernatural reaction to the presence of the greater enemy and from the looks of it. The years where he slept had been instrumental in keeping him alive and powered. Gabrio couldn’t pull any samples from him, with the fanatics of the Inquisitors guarding the tree alongside the elven.

Nonetheless, they at least knew when the enemy was coming. With every heartbeat of the Blinder instrumental to their safety.

But they are far too interested in hoping that the Blinder can wake up. I do understand that the Elven-kin is a straightforward race. That this whole fleet was prepared to support him, to continue his fight. I pity the blinder, he has lost much of his time and now only a few know him by name.

Gabrio penned the rest of his thoughts on the journal before resting his eyes on the explosions flashing across the jagged crowns of the Tundrae. It seems that such troubles will continue on.

***

Gabrio grabbed hold of an edge before letting go, twisting his body, planting both feet on the side of the cliff, swinging his lower body to get a hold of a crack between the cliff.

Throwing himself up. He looks around and pulls himself up. A Soundless jumps up and looks around the mass of creatures that are surrounding the whole of the island.

Biomass of shadow-like creatures turned to flesh. Like rubbery slime that has taken form with their skeletons outside of their bodies. Gabrio scopes the mass of creatures and finds the leader of the things resisting the bombardment.

“The skyships are unable to enter range,” said the Soundless. “It will be unable to hit the monster with its ability to conjure the same shields.”

“What about breakers?”

“They have made progress… somewhat.”

“Oh.”

Most of the ones fighting the creatures are the Treant-Soldiers conjured by the ancestors of the Elven-kin. It surprised Gabrio that they would even inform them. The Soundless tilted its head, as if hearing something absurd.

“You may think less of yourself, Doctor. But there are only a few who can have the gift of long life. You earned yours and this disrespect would even anger the Ancestors.”

He was disrespecting their God in a subtle way by doing so. Gabrio does understand this, but it just slips once in a while.

“I understand that, I am not an Elven, so please pardon my words.”

The Soundless did not reply. It continued looking at the mass of creatures that were being born and killed again and again. The smell of the air here was pungent. The stinging stench of gunpowder remained intact while the burning creatures retained their abhorrent smell.

“How come they haven’t entered the area?”

“There is a protection spell that was cast down upon this island,” said the Soundless. “They cannot trespass upon our domain as long as we hold the source.”

“Convenient.”

Gabrio turned towards the wounded Soundless. He untied the strap around his waist and placed his tools on the ground. The Soundless that was wounded wouldn’t allow anyone other than him to treat them. It was a preference and despite the friendship and closeness of the fleet-kin towards another.

There are many jealous men and women of the fleet. And sometimes there are those who’d want to have the longevity that Gabrio had.

Most of the time it ended in failures. And there are those who have tried to open his chest and take the heart for themselves. But they never succeeded, and in a way it has been kept secret and many had assumed that Gabrio had the blue-blood in his veins.

The Soundless couldn’t be transported with its injuries. From the look of the Soundless, it seems that if they didn’t preserve the Soundless to a slowed state. Then the Soundless would have died. But the idea of the slowed state was far too eerie to look at. Small roots enter the nose, mouth, and ears of the Soundless to emulate the act of breathing.

“Is this the type of your powers that can't heal?”

The Soundless nodded. Gabrio opens up the protective clothing of the Soundless, removing their layered clothing and starts picking out the tarry object embedded inside.

Gabrio never understood the aversion of the Soundless to the art of medicine, and in a way they have a tradition to not allow their warrior hands to heal beyond. They are long-lived people and their inability and pride to learn beyond their role was the most fascinating and irritating part of them.

Handling a field surgery was normal for him now. And there were many cases where he had to do it on the field just in case they were unable to be transported.

It was a painful and slow process. But as the elven-kin started to stabilize. Gabrio had already taken out 155 scale-like objects that were embedded on the innards of the elven-kin. Not to mention that these scales seem to disrupt their healing abilities.

No wonder they needed him to climb up the cliff to handle the surgery instead of carrying themselves to safety. Gabrio inserted a form of opiate in the vein of the Soundless Elven and made sure that its head was lifted slightly up.

“We can take over from here, Doctor,” one of the Soundless said.

Gabrio cleaned and sterilized his tools before packing them up. One of the elven-kin summoned its Treant and started moving down the cliff-face, clinging to the wall as it took Gabrio down with it.

“How many are left?”

“We cannot say. Most of the work is done by my peers. We are in a tight defense against the creatures and perhaps the Baron as well will be present soon.”

Gabrio braced himself as the Treant slowed down its fall. The impact was lessened, but Gabrio can feel some of his bones ache at the fall.

“An unruly maneuver.”

“But a fast one,” the Soundless said. “I shall go back and assist my brothers and sisters for now.”

The Treant made a leap and started scaling the cliff-face with ferocity again. Gabrio returned to where the Treantler was waiting for him and went back to Bluepur.

After taking a rest in Bluepur, the next day, he woke up to the sight of crisscrossing patterns forming a weave around Tundrae.

There was an air of uneasiness as the weaves shield itself from these sparks and lightning that tries to pierce through the weavings in the air.

And it came to Gabrio that the island was surrounded by clouds. As if it was isolated from the world they knew. Trapped within two-reality that he can’t figure out.

The only light shining on the Island was the Elder Spring tree. Radiating a light that seems to burn the darkness carried by these shadows.

He could hear the heartbeat of someone. The heartbeat of the blinder whose light starts to shine and protect the fleet and the island with his light.