"Oh." He said simply, looking downward.
It was gruesome – it looked like he had swallowed a miniature explosive, and the result was splayed guts and a deep red mess.
Despite the graveness of the wound, he didn't seem alarmed. No, his eyes were still distant, looking for something else.
Is that possible?
A cloud of volcanic ash dissolved, and the Lycan stepped out tiredly.
It had taken some time, but tapping into his abilities allowed him to recover from the damage with scarcely any evidence of its occurrence. That mysterious metal was acting up in his system again.
It was getting increasingly violent but, conversely, more manageable. Despite its brutality, he felt something.
It was difficult to describe but akin to the feeling of ice melting. Like the metal was dissolving in his anatomy, as all metal did.
He sighed and reclined on the bed, although it was already morning. After he had had some time, he recalled some details of his dream.
Thinking about it made him run cold, but he still wanted to know what it was he had encountered there.
Endure the black, for it is the beginning
Embrace the white, for it is good
Fear the yellow, for it is stagnation
Follow the red, for it is perfection
He had recalled those words only after he had woken up and reflected on the dream during his healing process.
"You're rather calm about having your innards on the outside."
Chaina didn't seem as unbothered about the whole affair as he did, unsurprisingly.
"Sorry to make you worry," he said with effusion but still a bit of hollowness and distance.
What could it all mean?
"What happened?"
He shook his head.
"You're not going to tell me?"
"I wouldn't know where to start."
"… at the beginning?"
"Not a bad place to start, eh?"
He said this and didn't say anything but instead reached for a glass she had placed on the nightstand, emptying it gratefully but in the languorous motions he was wont to adopt at certain times.
"Thank you."
"It's nothing," she said, not pressing him but not hiding her displeasure either.
"I don't want to drag you into this."
"You know I like to get my way."
"I know it very well, you tyrant," he returned, matching the smile on her face.
"So, are you going to tell me, or are we going to keep circling around it?"
"Hmm, I don't know what I'm even allowed to tell you, but I promise to… eventually."
"Eventually."
He closed his eyes with his scarred hand, prepared to get some more sleep.
"The young mistress is very indulgent."
"Julnan."
The words snapped the young squad leader out of his mired thoughts as he turned to his familiar teammate.
She wore the regular Jan Zaki uniform, but a certain accessory irresistibly caught his eye.
It was a singular pendant with an image carved into soft, shiny metal. The image of a mountain.
He tried to jog his memory to see if he could place it but found that he couldn't.
"Good morning, Yachit."
"Likewise."
He just noticed now that he hadn't seen her much in the last couple of days. Usually, he would find her orbiting the sick bay where one of their teammates was still confined. That was actually his destination now.
"You've been busy?"
"Hmm?"
"I haven't seen you here in a while," he said, keeping pace with her as they walked to check in on the recovering Elves.
"Yes, I've been occupied with some private affairs."
"Is anything the matter?"
"…Nothing. It's just…"
She didn't finish her statement as they had arrived at their destination. She held the door open for him in an uncharacteristic display of respect, and he walked through, though his cocked brow showed he noticed her behaviour.
The room was lit with a sharp fluorescence; the strong Red Engine Crystal lanterns determined to banish all shadows from this room of healing. That wasn't the only interesting thing they were doing, though, as one in the centre of the room supported the weight of a familiar person.
"You're supposed to be resting, Iya."
Indeed, their Elf comrade hung from the roof of the room by his signature strings.
"I'm just testing something," he said easily, waving at them with his spare hand.
Yachit shook her head but walked towards the still incapacitated Atu.
She was asleep at the moment, blissfully unaware of her surroundings.
Yachit just now recalled that her first surgery had been the night before.
The severity of the damage required multiple rounds of grafts and percutaneous wires to optimise her recovery and keep her ability intact to some degree.
As she observed her sorrowfully, she heard the soft footfall of the other Elf as he descended from his perch.
"She expected you to be here," he said simply, not looking at her but keeping his eyes on the convalescent.
"I know," she said, not having it in her to look at him, either.
"What's going to happen to us?"
"I don't know."
He sighed at this.
He hadn't been able to meet his master except during his daily visits to the sick bay, and those weren't the proper occasions for sensitive conversations.
The strong smell of antiseptic assaulted his senses as these and other turbulent thoughts swam through his mind.
He hated that smell.
"I'm sorry."
Yachit's words pulled him out of his thoughts.
"… You didn't do anything wrong – we all should have been more careful."
"Recover well," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder before walking out of the room with Julnan, who had watched from the side the entire time.
She sighed loudly after they were out in the courtyard once more.
"Do you know why this province is called the Lowlands?"
The question was sudden, and Julnan merely shook his head to indicate his ignorance.
"The Trolls used to be the chosen of Nne Ani alongside the Goblins. It was a golden age, but it all ended when a great many tribes sided with the Elves during the Coup Festival. The Great Mother was infuriated, and we lost her favour.
"This fall was exacerbated by vicious inter-tribal wars that reduced us to mere vassals of the Elves. We were laid low even in our own home and thus have earned this name… I don't know why I'm telling you all of this."
Julnan was lost. Although he was also a Troll, he had spent all of his life as a member of Jan Zaki and knew no life different.
"You're our new leader," she said suddenly, walking away from him and waving without turning. "Remember that."
It was as she left that he recalled something–that pendant.
It was an artefact of the Akila Tribe, a once-great Troll tribe renowned for its proficiency in Yang energy.
He wanted to call out to her but didn't know why.
Don't do anything reckless.
Far beyond the borders of Reigina, there was a great expanse of dark clouds.
These clouds didn't merely populate the heavens but crowded out all of creation, forming an impenetrable veil that locked out everything in their otherworldly domain.
If the sight could be compared to anything, it could be said to be like a storm of shadows, with awful winds that sounded like the screams of some begotten and long-lived creatures, and bright flashes of lightning that stood out sharply but simultaneously did nothing to illuminate the surroundings.
The veil was not infinite, though, and gave way to a stretch of dark water.
A tall figure strode across this water as though it were tile and stood before this haunting boundary. It loosened its robes and retrieved a goatskin bag from its person, searching easily without looking and finally stopping with a smile.
The figure pulled out a large black and silver snake's scale and lifted it above its head, mumbling chants impossible to discern.
The scale was cast onto the water and stayed afloat idly for several seconds, though the black eyes of that solitary figure watched it with great expectation.
A faint glow emanated from it, accompanied by mysterious noises, like the hushed tones of a conspiracy.
The glow grew into a man-sized pillar of light from which another figure was visible.
She was draped in varying shades of purple, like the vine of some exotic bougainvillaea flower, and, despite her ethereal appearance, she exuded a tangible halo of charm that was all the more striking for its contrast with the background of utter darkness.
"My lady," the figure said, bowing slightly to the lady.
She smiled genuinely, her white teeth standing starkly against the red tint of her lipstick in a manner that could only be described as… intoxicating!
This figure's eyes merely shone unnaturally as he acknowledged her graceful courtesy.
"Lord Ritcher isn't making an appearance?"
"Not today, herald," she said drawlingly. "You'll have to content yourself with my company for this meeting."
"It's my honour, mistress."
A slight sneer flashed over her flawless face, but she hid it instantly.
"The boy... he has connected to Citrinitas."
Her brows jumped sharply at this.
"That's incredible!"
"It is," her companion agreed, "but it was only brief."
The hologram shivered.
"Brief or not, that's… It's perfect."
The figure nodded slightly.
"You can go ahead with the second phase."
"Hmm."
"Yes, I have the sire's approval for this—it's all carte blanche."
"Thank you, mistress."
"You don't seem to share my excitement," she noted, smiling after having regained her composure. "I expected that you, of all people, would be ecstatic."
"Haha."
The initial reply was just a laugh. It wasn't a regular laugh of mirth but a cold one, cold like iron striking the floor of a subterranean cave.
"Of course I'm excited."