"So you say as long as there is an audience you will always hide behind mask ?"
"It depends"
"Depends on what ?"
The talk grow more curious and mysterious. The amount mask Terra wants to peel was growing thicker by the second.
"Let me ask you something, Terra"
They stop in front of a huge opening. A cloud of smoke can be seen, looming in the horizon. The destruction of the enemy castle was prominent. Making it a mark of how potent Altaris plan was.
"Did you know what the core of theater is ?"
The answer came before Terra can even open his mouth. A feminine voice.
"There was script, a stage, an actor and..."
"Audience"
Terra finally said, doesn't forget the sentence he got before.
"Exactly. And lets say, right now, this whole mock battle was one huge play. We got the stage..."
Altaris hand fell, pointing at the castle and the entirety of the map.
"We got the audience..."
His finger now point the dome. Perfectly aware that someone were watching them without pause
"And we got the Actor. We, you, all of us - is the actor"
"And the script ?"
Terra interject, the puzzle was starting to click
"For now, we are the one who create it. So let me ask you a question, the real question..."
The words lingered, the smoke still floating in the air - a tint of ugliness in the middle of beautiful orange skies. While the mist was getting lower and lower, almost touching the forest floor.
"Do you want to be 'our' screenwriter ?"
The silence were choking, accompanying the afterthought that spiral inside Terra's being. The weight of decision smushed his brain, slowly creeping in from his feet, into his mind. He might not understand the entire thing, but mind like Altaris, who, able to control the battlefield perfectly like screen were akin to gold mine to befriend with.
Yet one word who always gnawed his mind, from the first time he called him, until now even in the middle of the battlefield.
'Can i trust him ?'
A pure mystery, a puzzle with unsolvable piece
"Yet, the answer doesn't have to appear right now"
Altaris now one step away from leaping down, just a click from the edge of balcony. While Violet was hugging him tight, her hands woven against his torso, unabling herself to let go.
"Then, when ?"
"He will eventually met you"
"Who ?"
Terra hand suddenly slit into his sword handle. With eyes also became thin.
"Who else, the crown prince of course"
"And how did you know ?"
"Should i spell it to you, right now, we are the ones who created it"
"What should i do then ?"
"When he ask, give credit where it's due"
"Why ?"
That question, was never meant to be answered - Not by Altaris nor Violet. The answers were to board. So the best thing to do, is dismissed it entirely.
"Good bye, my liege"
Just like there was no intention to answer, Altaris also doesn't have any reason to jump. They both just walk, uncaringly back to the veil of the castle wall - Leaving Terra, who now found himself, somehow, not alone, but with Angeline in his side. The notion baffles him, and one thing he finds more eerie, is the way his reason completely changed whenever he talk to Altaris.
'How the hell i suddenly talk about theater'
A rub in his forehead were enough to cement the confusion. One of his hand was taken by Angelina. She in fact grew bolder every millisecond. The star has begun to set, inviting the embrace of night in their place of war. The feeling of heat start prickling his skin, locked him into reality.
'What a confusing talk this is'
----
"RETREAT, BACK TO THE FOREST"
Screeching scream, made to hurt whoever ears to hear it. Bunch of people, run in panic - some with the help of magic. The one supposed to be comrade in arms, now burn and slash each other in frenzy and hysteria.
So much terror in one place, without even a shred of bravery.
Such fate for one who guard the castle for the crown prince.
The man was in pain - nor from a wound, nor an arrow striking him. A blinding ache assaulted his mind. The sound of branch yanked to a tree, broke into a thousand pieces. Yet he still wants to throw something - anything - Just so he can remember what it feels like to breath.
He was the KING of this team
And he 'absolutely' can't get drown in anger or misery
His 'heads' - that's what he usually calls them, circled around him, making something like a makeshift group. Five out of seven are part of his team. While the two - he gave them task, supposed to be easy. To opened a road for them to reach victory. That until the damn dome was announcing their identity.
"Johan Astrid... Death by stabbing"
"Adrin Fale.... Death by drowning"
'What the fuck is happening'
Well, Its okay. Not everything has been in vain. They now control the eighty percent of the forest and had successfully cut their enemy's access to the river.
They may have been tricked - either by Jonas or that imp. - but the situation was still salvageable, he needed to make sure of it.
"May....may i have a word, my prince..."
his eyebrows perked, suspicion flickering. 'Firland, of all things ?. What does he want ?'
"Spill it"
"How... how about...a counterattack ?"
"That's your best advice... we lost almost a hundred people on that damn castle and now YOU want ME - to counterattack !"
What is this ? Firland eyes flickered to the crowd of trees, but for Arthur, it reeked of incompetence. His body throbbed.
One wrong move , just one - and he could be seen as fool in front of the entire academy. The stakes pressed to him like an anvil . He can't just... let them win and stole his trophy.
'These fools can't even help me. I'm alone in this'
His sight raked deep into the forest. Jaw clenched at every shift in the forest floor. A mist coiling low, crawling in the ground, veiling the roots beneath. Yes... mist. Why hadn't he think of this ?
'He could still ambush, strike whoever tried to enter his territory'