Main hall, Prison
Seven people sat on the floor in a circle,,, six strangers and the person who would be their guide.
"We will set out tomorrow morning," Kshaya said. His voice was better since their first meeting. "You have seen the swamp. You have been to the desert. Expect the rest of the world to be ten times worse.."
If it was before the cataclysm, Lume would be taking notes at this moment, ensuring that nothing was missed. But none of them needed that anymore. A perfect memory was also one of immortality's quirks.
"When out in the wild, you will always do as I say. If I am incapacitated, you will follow Eira. And if both of us are out..." he looked at the sixth member, "...you look to her for directions."
"In a situation where you find yourself alone, do not try to find a way by yourself. Stop and be patient," He looked at Lume who nodded sheepishly, while Taren locked his arms in approval.
After the team had returned from the desert, he had gathered them in the main hall to complete his end of the deal. The rituals had been successful and now he had to guide them on a perilous journey that possibly might be his last.
After signing the binding contract, he had asked them to sit for a briefing. A simple few pointers to set the right mood for the journey ahead.
But this was more for himself than it was for them.
For the first time in thirty-two years, Kshaya felt nervous. A subtle sense of unease stuck to him. He would be leaving tomorrow, venturing back into the world after a long time.
"Let's quickly finish by reviewing our first phase of the journey and the route we will take." He stopped speaking, letting the team take over.
Mira spread a strange looking clothe across the floor, a map, and holographic lines flickered to life in muted gray. It showed their current location, as well the entirety of the Dakshin continent.
"We move north, past the Green desert region, into the outer dunes of the Red Desert. From there, we'll head towards the ruins of Aiyra located just at the edge of Red Desert region. It should take us three days roughly if the winds and sands are calm."
"Which is very unlikely. The Red Desert region is known to be hostile to humans," Lume added.
The group exchanged glances. They were aware of this as well, and so the need for their Guide came almost immediately. Dr. Korr adjusted his glasses, pointing at the projected terrain. "Should we take the ridge route?"
"No," Kshaya said flatly. "The ridges are unstable. The desert is hostile and we know it, the ridge route is unpredictable. The old one there is a hunter. We will stick to the original route, until I tell otherwise."
Taren's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. The others nodded.
"The ruins of Aiyra will be our first stop. We rest there a night and then try to reach the Vriksh Haven city." Eira summarized, looking at Kshaya for confirmation. He gave a silent nod.
The conversation drifted into smaller discussions,,, dangers, formations, bandit groups and what not, but Kshaya was no longer listening. Their voices faded into the background, like radio static slowly losing signal.
His eyes were fixed on the floor.
He could already feel the vibrations beneath, the faint hum of the prison's heartbeat. The Jailor was awake, listening.
He let them speak, let the room buzz faintly with color for the first time in decades.
Then, quietly, he stood. "I'll be back shortly. You can finalize the rest with Eira."
No one questioned him. They watched him leave through the far corridor, his steps silent, evenly paced as ever.
The prison greeted him like an old friend as he slowly scaled the steps and walked through the corridors. The memories from his last three decades spent here slipped past him like a movie.
Each corridor he walked through, there was a slight trace of him to be found there now. He passed by the gym, the sealed vent shafts, the dormitory, the old control room. Every door he walked past was a memory. Dustless. Preserved. Waiting.
The prison hadn't always been like this. After the cataclysm, it didn't take long for it become empty. In a world of immortals, life sentences were a reality, but there was no prison built to hold such people. Empty, abandoned and rotting. That's what had become of the prison in just a few years after the cataclysm.
Somewhat echoing his own image back then, maybe that is why he was attracted to it. Two lives that had lost their purpose. Kshaya had sat down at the entrance of the prison back then, reflecting on what to do in life.
And as if waking up from a long slumber, the old voice of the jailor had asked him, "Are you a criminal?"
It was a naive question to ask a retired soldier and ex-mercenary.
"Perhaps I am," he had replied.
"This prison was made for the likes of you; do you want to stay?"
"Perhaps I should," and so an unlikely friendship had sprung between a prison and its prisoner.
....
He paused at the observation deck waking up from the memory lane to arrive at his favorite spot,,, and looked out at the horizon where desert and swamp met in restless tension. The air shimmered faintly, gold bleeding into gray. The balance still held. For now.
"It's time," he said softly.
The answer came from everywhere at once, deep and old.
"I can feel it."
"I will be back, Jailor." He rested his metal arms against the wall. "Keep the lights running. And don't worry about the desert or the swamp. They'll behave while I'm not here."
A low vibration ran through the walls. Acknowledging his words.
"They will wait," the Jailor murmured. "But they do not like waiting."
"I know," Kshaya said, smiling faintly. "Neither do I."
He continued his walk, visiting every room. The storage chambers, the machine hall, the old cafeteria that hadn't seen a meal in decades, many rooms filled with stuff he had collected over the years. Finally, he reached his quarters.
The radio sat on the table beside the compass, both seemed to be lost in conversation. He gathered the few things he needed for this journey.
The radio suddenly increased its volume, as if suffering from a seizure .
"...breaking news from the Citadel region..."
Kshaya frowned, turning the dial slightly. The voice was distorted, the frequency uneven.
"...researchers at the Elzemier Institute report a phenomenon... never before seen... readings tell that rebirth... immortality is a facade... death is a sweeter release... no one is safe"
He froze.
The static voice was no longer coherent. It repeated fragments—"The end is near... restoration... new dawn..."
A prophecy. Or an echo. He didn't know. He could never tell. And he had decided to never listen to them after what happened thirty years ago.
But this message.
He thought back to the day before when the radio had spewed similar content. And the week before that, when it had talked about the death of a living dead.
Silence hung around the room. He didn't know if this was happening because of his decision to journey ahead, or if his decision to journey ahead was influenced due to the information he had heard.
But his mind was set.
He was going to see through it.
Morning came silently. But this time, the sunlight seeping through the windowpanes in the ceiling was not dull. It shone with a glint. Something Kshaya had not seen in a long time.
The team assembled at the front gate, their packs sealed, expressions tight with fatigue and curiosity. Lume pointed at the old radio hanging from Kshaya's belt.
"I am surprised that thing still works," he said. "There are no signal towers for miles. This technology was obsolete before the cataclysm."
"Not in the military. And it doesn't need signal," Kshaya replied. Taren raised his head at the mention of military, as if confirming something.
The device came alive on cue, the familiar static humming before the broadcast began.
"…Welcome to the voice of the new era, today, I once again bring you latest news and happenings from around the world…"
The words drifted over them as the gates opened. Just as the team stepped out, Kshaya held back, as if doubting his actions for a moment.
His metal arms felt heavy and the chains seemed to weigh on him. Finally making up his mind, he removed the mask he was wearing and faced the team.
"I am Kshaya."
He did not explain further, as he stepped past the gate. None of them chose to ask either. The sixth member looked at him with a faint sense of recognition, while Eira seemed to smile lightly.
They stepped out into the pale golden light, onto the path of sand and vines.
Behind them, the prison watched in silence.
For the first time in thirty-two years, Kshaya left his sanctuary. The radio buzzed one last time, quiet and clear only to him.
Walk well, prisoner.
Don't get lost, the compass hummed.
The peace will finally be broken, the heavy voice echoed
Farewell, friend, finally, the old voice added.
And the gates closed.