Chapter 244: Awakened

Their steps grew slower and slower the farther they were from the cave village. 

His pale hands gripped the leather rope attached to his makeshift drawstring bag. It was the best the Merfolk could find after such short notice. He carried food that would last him a week ago most and some freshwater within the only bottle the people could offer him. Although he was short in supplies, Moulin didn't complain. He was grateful enough to receive the tribe's care even when he's an outsider. 

It was only the chief who was escorting him. Moulin followed while his vigilant eyes scanned the surroundings. 

When they walked past a tree marked with yellow paint, it was then that the man raised his hand to stop. 

The chieftain pointed towards a crevice between two overlapping boulders. The triangular opening at the center was dark, cover with snow and throne bushes. He spoke quietly. "Since four years ago, random portals have constantly been appearing all over the lands. Now, it is what we use to travel to places. However, they are also the gateways malibreeds use to enter lands, so you will need to be careful. Between those rocks is one of those portals. Fortunately, you came just in time for its activation."

"Portals? Does anyone know why they appear?" Moulin glanced at him.

The man shook his head, "I'm afraid I do not know. I hard they first appeared in maeruthan city, but the details I am not knowledgeable."

Moulin nodded. He slowly approached the boulders before pausing momentarily. "You said I was in time for its activation... Does it disappear often?"

"The portals revives once a month, and it will continue to do so after two years." The man replied. Moulin furrows his brows in concern. 

"Don't worry..." The chief grinned, sensing the youth's discomfort. "We are sure to transfer to someplace safe before the portal disappears. And I doubt my people wouldn't be reluctant to part with the home you have offered us."

Moulin pressed his lips together before sighing. "Alright. However, if I can manage to return to my home, I will ensure I will grant you refuge." 

The man's blue eyes softened. "Thank you for everything, young one. And may we meet again..."

Moulin nodded to him with a gentle smile. Finally, he turned and walked towards the dark opening between the rock. Ducking his head, he entered smoothly. He felt a wave of energy engulfed his body, and he disappeared. Closing his eyes, he gripped his necklace.

Although it would be hard finding his way back home, he hoped he would see his beloved people safe and sound.

..................

..................

Whoosh!

The shrill cry of a magnificent eagle filled the hollow skies. Sharply, it whooshed through the stratocumulus cloud, leaving a trail of white behind it. Once again, its cries resounded like a thundering roar. As it glides downwards faster than it was before, exiting the grey clouds, and then he spreads his wings. 

The glory of a mighty high-walled city revealed itself before its eyes. A circular city that appeared brimming with abundance. A small palace sits at the center, surrounded by long narrow rivers that stretched to every part of the city. But what was most captivating were the three towers. They appeared like the pointed tips of a crown. The middle tower was taller and more prominent than the two. And as always, a ring of black clouds hovers above the central tower. 

Any new survivor would think that a terrible curse was placed on the city, but the people living for more than three years would think otherwise. The ring was a mark of the lord supreme, much like the crest that marked the towering wall of the city.

A moonflower within the embrace of the piercing crown of the glorious sun. And of its meaning, no one knew. 

The massive bird circled the left tower before spotting the open balcony with no banisters. It was several hundreds of feet from the crystal rivers below, and the servants that waited on the open balcony restrained themselves from looking downwards, huddling close to the arched doorway. 

With another shrill cry, the eagle descended. It beats its enormous wings a few times before tucking them to its body. The sound of bones cracking and flesh, shaping, and stretching filled the area. Landing on the smooth floor wasn't claws but bare feet. 

A man with dark skin and long braided hair strode powerfully. He was heavily built, and golden strokes of paint decorated the skin beneath his brown eyes. His muscled torso, bare, exposing the heaviness of his masculinity.

The servants hurried to drape a silk robe on his shoulder and quietly followed their master, relieved when they departed the balcony. The man, once a bird, huffed as he cracked his neck side to side while heading towards the halls. He expected a dear friend was waiting for him there.

The servants opened the doors for him, and he ventured inside with an exhausted yet severe look. "Varick!" He half-shouted. His voice echoing.

The man who stood alone at the center of the empty hall flinched. He pried his eyes away from the massive double doors in front of him. With a sigh, he turned and faced his guest. After several long years, his features became more mature, and a faint presence of weariness lingered in his eyes. However, after years of fighting and battling for survival and his comrades, his body became fiercer and stronger. 

"Hello, Sarion." Varick nodded to the Orc from Saakar, the land of the Golden Sand.  "You finished quicker than I expected..."

Sarion scoffed, "if it weren't for our companionship, I would beat you to death."

"What ties us together is also the partnership your clan leader and our Lord made." Varick shook his head.  "Now tell me what you have to report."

"Tsk, malibreeds have been trying to cross the rift. My people have also found survivors staying near the borders. Fortunately, we save most of them."

"The other?"

"Aren't so lucky..." Sarion shrugged. Then he approached Varick while glancing at the doors past the man. "Why do you always wait here? Does the Lord order you to? I have only seen him once during the alliance. Does he go out of this room?"

Varick didn't respond and only stared at the doors with a wistful expression. His abrupt silence suddenly fills Sarion with unease. 

Varick lowered his gaze. "He leaves the room every night... And does not come back until dawn. It's been years... And he is still searching for his spirit."

Sarion knitted his brows. "He's the man who created this stronghold—the savior of us all. He massacres malefics and those damn malibreeds. He's no less a king of us all. And yet? He searches when he can everything is offered to his feet?"

Varick clapped his friend's shoulder while shaking his head. He lifted his eyes and stares at the shut doors. They looked so cold and lifeless, like the man who dwells inside them. 

Varick slightly furrows his eyes. He felt as though it had happened just yesterday. The memory was as clear as pure, sacred water. 

The anguished roar. A lone man standing at the peak of a mountain of corpses. That pitch-black blade dripping with blood. Everyone feared him. Most swore their loyalty to him. But none of them mattered. Even if he cuts down hundreds or thousands, no one would know of the pained creature wallowing inside the depths of his heart. 

But Varick had seen it. 

It was one night—a night like any other. Varick was there as he witnessed the birth of the ring of black clouds that hovers above the tower. The madness could no longer be contained. And at midnight, a powerful wave of oppression rendered the whole city breathless. It was akin to having a thousand boulders pressed on your back. Every single soul fell to the ground, screaming in pain, blood flowing down their noses. Estuvian, Lord Hendrick, and a hundred sentinels came to the Lord's chambers.

And Varick had witnessed it. 

A broken man, driven by madness. What he lost was too great, too precious for him to overcome. There were no tears, but Varick could see the sorrow that laced those powerful eyes of gold. 

And then a shatter. It was this one sound that made everything stop.

Despite the shattered glass fragments on the floor, Lord Hadrian Hercullio knelt and held the delicate moonflower, the last of its kind, in his hands. The aura dispersed, accumulating into an enormous ring in the sky. Since then, it has never disappeared. Like a dark hollow levitating over the City.

Varick lowered his gaze. Their Lord was a strong man, but even a man like him would break once he lost his most precious one.

Sarion deepened his eyes and sighed. "I see." Although Varick didn't reply to him, Sarion could see through his eyes." Forgive me If I was impolite..."

Varick blinked and chuckled. "Since when were you ever polite?"

Sarion frowned, and before he could let out an insult, Varick suddenly pulled him towards the doors. The red-haired man grinned as he led his friend out of the door. "Come, the assembly will start. We need to hurry."

The two walked away and finally left the hall. Silence once again settles. The dim beams of sunlight fell upon the smooth floor. 

And within the secluded chambers, past the soft furred rugs, the empty bottles of wine left at the side, and the thick curtains that parted the rooms, a loud vibrating growl sounded. 

Its neat fur was as black as night, eyes of smoldering gold. The golden marks appeared like flames on its clawed paws. The beast looked as though his limbs were engulfed by golden flames. Its jaws big enough to kill a man with one bite. 

And this full-grown beast's name was Kier. 

With a low growl, he circled the small cushion lying on the rugged floor where a particular snow-white fox slumbered. In its small form, he looked harmless, curling his body to its comfort. 

The giant wolf huffed and whined softly. His eyes were bright with anticipation. Something he hasn't felt for a  very long time. However, he wasn't the only one who thought it. 

Slow footsteps sounded. And a deep voice spoke, "Keir..."

In an instant, the wolf perked his ears up. He turned his snout to his master behind him and wagged his tail.

Golden hair glistened, and strands of it swayed with the man's movements. Wearing only a simple shirt, his collar opened until the last few buttons at his abdomen, exposing the muscularity of his body. The years have shaped his form tremendously. He had never stopped fighting... it calmed him most along with the wine that served to ease his soul. His emotions have become frozen and dull. His eyes remained cold, only 

However, after the years he had tormented himself, it was as though the thought finally plunged unto his consciousness, waking him. 

Suddenly, a soft whine sounded. 

Hadrian knew it didn't come from Keir but the little Opallian fox who had slept ever since his master's death. The sound was like a thunderclap in the Lord's ears as he stopped. 

Snow... is awake.