As he stepped forward, he entered the maze of tall grass, feeling the dry foliage brush against his body.
The mont he took a single stride into the towering blades of grass, he felt an unsettling air clasp his skin, causing him to backpedal to leave. Though he took a few steps back, he found himself still backing through the colossal weeds, forcing him to turn around.
As far as he could see, it stretched out behind him; in every direction, it seed boundless.
What is this? I took one step in, he thought.
In his chest, he felt his heart begin to thump with a rising anxiety, finding himself trapped within the supernatural maze.
It didn't occur to him until a few strides into venturing through the ominous field, but his fla didn't attach to any of the length strands of grass.
"...Weird…" He muttered.
Holding the small, orange fire against one of the pieces of dried foliage, there was no reaction between itself and the fla.
Yet, it was the least of the oddities he found himself in as he continued forth, moving without any sense of where he was heading as all vision was obscured by the tall grass.
Periodically, he heard rustling coming from around him–sotis distant, other tis closer. Each ti, he readied himself, though he felt like a fish out of water as he was left without his staff or his sword.
…I hate this, he thought.
It beca difficult to tell whether the noises he heard were real or simply his own mind playing tricks on him, but no matter how quickly he reacted, he couldn't find anything around him.
Am I making any progress here? He questioned.
After a good while of moving forward, he found himself feeling as though he was continuing down a monotonous, never ending cycle, growing frustrated before an idea popped into his head.
I've got magic! Why am I playing by this place's rules?! He realized.
Spawning a gust of wind at his feet, he propelled himself upward to escape the walls of dead grass, shooting upward as he found himself delighted his plan worked, however–
"What…?"
That single word was all he could let out as he was left breathless at the sight around him: the fields of colossal, lifeless grass extended for what seed to be an infinity.
This…isn't right. Where's the black sea? I didn't go that far in, right? He thought.
As perplexing as it was, he knew what this likely ant as he dropped back down onto the soil, brought into the depths of the maze once more: he wasn't ant to "bypass" it.
Whatever it is, this place wants to play its little gas–fine then, he accepted.
Filling himself with what he dubbed "Everett-ism", embodying the reckless, sowhat stupid, but mostly brave thod of his bumpkin friend, he yelled out and closed his eyes before sprinting forward.
It was a fool proof plan of "what I can't see can't hurt "--the thought process of a child now being utilized in the depths of the deathly, unknown realm as Emilio rushed forward, pushing past the walls of grass.
"--How about that?!"
After coming to a stop to catch his breath, he opened his eyes, expecting to find himself surrounded by the deathly tall grass, however, that was not the case.
He was standing in a small clearing just before a steep cliff that seed to lead down into an abyss that was far too dark to make anything out of.
"That worked?" He mumbled.
Though he questioned if he was in any better of a position now as he found himself at the edge of the cliff above a chasm of unknown depths, greeted only by a rickety, wooden ladder.
"A ladder…" He looked down.
Standing at the edge of the cliff, he overlooked the chasm as a few, loose pebbles fell down the vast opening in the realm, watching as they descended for what seed an eternity, leaving no noise to et his ears.
Though he despised it, there was no clearer sign that he was ant to descend the ominous ladder.
Dreadful it was; the sight of the chasm made his stomach sink just looking at it, mimicking the grander of the Grand Canyon he once rembered in a past life, however embodying complete fear and enigma in its existence, holding only darkness in its bowels.
It felt as though he was being led sowhere, but where to was the question at hand; against his better judgnt, he decided to climb down the far-stretching ladder.
An encouraging breath was drawn into his lungs before he lowered himself, wrapping his fingers carefully around the rough wood of the handhold.
Sitting there for a mont with his hands gripping the wood and his feet pressed nervously against the next step, he could feel his back to the void beyond him.
Sohow, even with my magic, I have this feeling in my gut…That even if I tried to, I wouldn't be able to survive a fall down this chasm, he thought.
Slowly, he moved down one step at a ti, feeling his fingertips tremble against the handholds and his feet struggle to stay steady, even as he kept calming breaths flowing in-and-out of his lungs.
I hope wherever this place is leading gives so answers, he thought.
–
[Back In The Valley of Parsus]
The recruits that had survived the length of the trial were all gathered by the Guild Foundation forces in an imdiate evacuation of the area. It was a sight to behold for those that endured the battle against the Dread; tal ships that should've been faring the sea instead traversed the air with massive balloons guiding them.
Each ship landed in various zones throughout the valley, acting as transportation vehicles for those within the compromised trial grounds to escape into.
"Alright, ti to head out."
The horned Nihilum Core, Scarlet, said with a tired sigh, slicking his hair back, whether by accident or not with his own blood.
Those close to the young Dragonheart were still left stunned by the entire ordeal, but at the very least, there was hope now.
lisande stood there for a mont, spacing out with a worried look embedded in her erald irises.
A hand befell her shoulder, patting it in an act of comfort and reassurance; it ca from Everett, who was thoroughly wrapped in ergency bandages by the dical staff of the Guild Foundation that arrived on the scene.
"He'll make it," Everett assured her with a smile.
lisande paused for a mont before nodding, putting on a smile of her own, "You're right. I know he will. We just have to trust in him now. Right?..."
"That's all we can do," Yuna chid in, taking a sip of water from a canteen supplied by the Foundation.
There were dozens of staff investigating the scene, and so official adventurers of seeming renown aiding them as well in this ti of need.
They had to watch as a pair of dical staff, in their black uniforms of the Guild Foundation, carried off the unmoving body of Emilio Dragonheart on a stretcher and into the parked ship.
"We should get goin'," Everett suggested.
"Yeah," lisande nodded."
Boarding the large, tallic ship, the three followed onto the sa one that Scarlet and Emilio's body were inhabiting as well.
"Let's get this moving! Ti is of the essence!" Scarlet took command quickly, clapping his hands together.
It was a surprisingly spacious interior that awaited; mages of the Foundation sat in special seats, pooling their mana into the engines of the ship to allow it to lift off once more.
"Take a seat and relax. You're all okay now."
Greeting them was a woman with dark-black hair kept in a ponytail with strong, azure eyes. Going by her outfit that was equipped with a belt of pouches, a leather sheath strapped to her back, and the general air around her, she was an adventurer.
If that wasn't enough, a ruby-gemd necklace was worn around her neck–the insignia of an adventurer.
"I'm Astra. Heard you all survived against a battle with the Dread–good job," the woman introduced herself, "You'll make fine adventurers."
"...Thanks," lisande quietly responded, not quite in the mood for conversation.
After such a tireso encounter, those that left the battlefield of Dread, sohow with their lives intact, all fell asleep only a few minutes into the ride aboard the ship.
Flying through the gargantuan, cloud-neighboring mountains that walled in the desecrated Valley of Parsus, the ship headed towards the Guild Foundation Headquarters on a welco calm amidst the skies.
–
"This kid really put it down? The Dread?"
Asking the question was another black-suit wearing colleague of Scarlet, occupying the front of the flying boat with a curious look. It was a woman with short, gray hair and an eyepatch worn on her left, looking down at the body of Emilio Dragonheart.
"Yeah. It was a helluva sight–I hope Biggs got to see it," Scarlet said.
As the horned man glanced over, the body of his comrade that had fallen on the battlefield was also present, but covered up unlike the Dragonheart.
"Too bad he's dead, then. Sobody with that sort of strength would've been useful to the Foundation. We're spread thin as it is lately," the eyepatch-wearing woman remarked.
"Don't count him out just yet," Scarlet corrected her.
"Right, well, forgive for keeping my expectations in check, but how many people have actually escaped the After?" She asked.
Scarlet was sitting with one leg propped up on his seat with a tired look in his eyes, peering out of one of the circular windows towards the clouds, "Not many, but how many people can fight sothing like the Dread?"
"Touche," the woman responded.
"I'm sick of seeing kids die," Scarlet said quietly.
"Yeah. Let's hope that's not the case here, right?" She asked.
Scarlet took a mont to respond, clearly lost in his own thoughts, "Yeah."
Though victory was found against the Dread, there was hardly a sense of triumph felt aboard the ship; it was a somber, lancholic flight to the Foundation, fueled by a bittersweet win.
Reviews
All reviews (0)