Act 3: Empire's Stand - Chapter 503: Draven And Oscar, Master And Disciple
Inside the dark storms churning endlessly in the spatial domain, Oscar looked from left to right, transfixed on his friends, fellow prisoners, his master, his aunts, and the others, everyone enveloped in a brilliant light, including Gunghir itself. In the next moment, the radiance faded away, and sunlight entered through the portholes, a warm welcome for everyone aboard. Then, Gunghir suddenly dropped harshly onto a hard surface, nearly knocking Oscar off Erden. Thankfully, Erden reacted fast and cradled him between his wings.
"We're back!" One of the prisoners exclaimed, peering through the porthole. His face began to twitch, a smile arcing up from his mouth before he began to wheeze out his choked laughter. Tears flowed uncontrollably down his ragged face, and he bawled, his cries congesting his laughter. Other prisoners joined in the cacophony of joyous, relieved cries.
Oscar watched the prisoners spill out their emotions, some screaming why the rescue came now, others silently choking on their tears and grieving for their loss, and the rest hugging each other and comforting themselves that it was all over. For most of these prisoners, they may never truly be free, forever haunted by the memories of the tortures they endured inside Rurin Gaols. Oscar couldn't bear to watch any longer and had Erden turn away. Some might be lucky, like his beloved Avril, who had him to help her through her trauma, but she still never fully healed, but the rest...he prayed for them.
The doors burst off, and several Pavilion members, garbed in the reassuring uniforms of his home, rushed inside. They divided into several groups, helping the injured off the ship in stretchers. Oscar told them to take special care of his friends and exited Gunghir with his master, reveling in the feeling of the secure earth beneath Erden's hooves, a far cry from the prison's cold and unsettling white floor. However, he didn't enjoy the walk for long since a domineering pair stood before him, the Pavilion Master and Elder Saul.
"Draven...." Remulus Grant said solemnly. He raised a hand toward them but hesitated halfway and put it back down, looking downward, away from Draven's locked gaze. He sighed and said, "I am sorry."Th.ê most uptod/ate novels a/re published on n(0)velbj)n(.)c/o/m
Draven stared at the Pavilion Master, and Oscar could tell from that look that his master was angry, the helmet doing little to hide the dark emotion seeping out the visor. His master tugged and nodded at Erden to move. "We're leaving, Oscar. These two bastards have nothing to say to us."
"Language!" Remulus snapped at him. The old King Exalt quickly breathed in and calmed down before giving the three of them a soft, resigned gaze, his green eyes drooping down. "I know I failed you in the past. You have every right to be mad at me. Even more so since Oscar is alive."
"What do I have to do with this?" Oscar interjected.
"Because Draven initially firmly believed you were still alive. He never quit trying to rush out and break into the spatial domain to reach Ashen Grove, but not even King Exalts can tear open the way into that place. Every hour, he'd beg me to try, but I knew it was impossible." Remulus said, shaking his head, clearly wearier by each passing second. He remained silent for a few moments before he spoke in a low voice, "To stop his suicidal endeavors, I asked Elder Saul for help, and we created a fabricated recording of your death to show Draven."
"You did what?!" Oscar shouted.
"It was to prevent your master from dying in the spatial domain. His crazed attempts didn't end well for him every time." Elder Saul stated. "I modified some details to ensure no one had any doubts."
"Yes. You did. You showed me your lies." Draven neared Elder Saul and Remulus, his figure standing unwaveringly despite the disparity in strength. His master spoke gratingly, like a volcano rumbling before its eruption, "I saw Oscar's head pressed into a pulp and his limbs torn into pieces. There's nothing the two of you can say now. Only lies and deceit rest on your tongues."
"What did you want me to do, my son?!" Remulus raised his voice, not to a shout, but a loud whisper. Oscar widened his eyes, hearing the Pavilion Master call his master, son....According to logs and history, Remulus Grant bore no descendants, remaining a lone figure without a family. Oscar wanted to know more about his master, but before he could ask about the nature of their relationship, the Pavilion Master continued, "Should I have let you die in the spatial domain? Your body never to be recovered inside the twisting storms? All I did, I did to keep you alive. At least, now, you're alive, and Oscar is alive."
"And it's all thanks to you?" Draven said mockingly. "Well, thank you, father. Thank you for sending Oscar down to free me rather than yourself. Thank you for making me believe he was dead for twenty years. Thank you for nothing." He sidestepped them and gestured for Erden to follow him. As he passed by, Oscar felt sad for the Pavilion Master, who, for some reason, stayed staring down at the ground, the powerful back of the King Exalt looking depressingly small.
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"Full cloak? Oh. You mean the Guise?" Oscar asked. "I figured it out during Ashen Grove."
"Guise? Is that what you named it?" Draven squeezed a cookie into his helmet and munched on it.
"Not me. It's the real name for the technique. The fusion of Ein and Reis is called Vis, but I stuck to naming it Eirin because it sounds more comfortable." Oscar drooled, seeing the scrumptious snacks spread over the table. As a prisoner, he hadn't eaten such luxuries in a long while, feeding only on the slop in the mess hall.
"Interesting. I supposed I have to listen to you retell your journey. Well, we have a lot of tea, so have at it." Draven downed another cup.
Oscar recounted everything since his supposed death in Ashen Grove. He heavily emphasized Sevon and Adam, the two Reis users, and the New Dawn who hunted them, warning his master about their goals and vile use for Reis users. He talked and narrated as his master listened and snacked. At the end of it, Oscar was parched and eyed the tea. "That's it. And here we are now."
His master was silent, prompting Oscar to worry and ask, "Is everything alright, master?"
"I'm thinking about...how many gifts I have to give you. There's one for being the one to grab the Divine Essence, one for your marriage to Avril, a worthy woman for my disciple, one for freeing me from the prison, and one for being alive. As your master, I can't let them be." Draven counted on his fingers.
A warmth surged from his heart, and Oscar smiled, shedding a few tears. He had no strength in his arms to wipe them, so they fell along his cheeks and dripped off his chin. Ever since he found out about the death of his parents and saw their graves, a deep emptiness tore into his heart, but hearing his master wonder about what gifts to give him...he couldn't help crying in joy at having his master alive.
"Forty years old, and you still cry," Draven rose from his seat, walked over, and patted Oscar's head. "Welcome back, Oscar, my disciple. Thank you for being alive."
"I-I'm back...." Oscar shed more tears as if a dam had broken in his eyes. He was glad, gratified by his master's welcome and warm palm on his head. All the suffering in the past month, the tortures he endured, the battles he fought, they were all worth it for this moment.
"Foolish disciple. You should have brought your wife back with you." Draven knocked on Oscar's head, a light scolding.
"I'll go fetch her after this war is over. That's why it needs to end soon." Oscar said.
"Then what now?" Draven crossed his arms.
Oscar thought for a moment and smiled. "It's time to see the rest of my old friends."