AtFC Chapter 57 - The Old Guardian

In the middle of the great formation, a sludge of flesh and bone was slowly rebuilding itself into a humanoid form. Then her mouth formed, once again. The worst part.

“Please kill me, please kill me, please kill me, I beg of you, please kill me… Please kill me!”

Like a mantra of hopelessness, the corrupted young girl pleaded to Artorias as he put the finishing touches on the seal. The seal that would kill them both, keep them separated from the rest of the world for centuries, denying the horrible beast the mana it needed to stay alive.

Only for the briefest moment while regenerating did the girl regain control of her own body. Those soul-crushing moments where she begged for death, begged for the spirit to be stopped so it could kill no more.

Daniel felt his own tears streaming down his face in the memory. Felt his hands trembling as he worked the formation. Felt the moment when he was forced to stop, when his fingers went still and refused to complete the final rune. He couldn't do it.

"Vix… Please, is there anything…?"

The golden triangles floating near him responded to his words, embodied by a clear and urgent voice.

‘Yes, you can still escape.’

“No, is there anything we can do to save her?”

‘...You hopeless fool. Even if we could, her body would disintegrate as soon as the corrupted spirit is extracted. She is dead either way.’

“...But her soul would survive?”

‘What soul?’

“Aarthax told me. She can still be reborn through the eternal stream if her soul survives.”

‘That damned… What difference does it make? Her memories won’t return. Save yourself instead!’

“...We’ve been together for over a decade now, Vix. You know me better than that.”

‘Think of what you’re sacrificing! How much pain you’re inflicting on your loved ones!’

“Tell me how to save her. I know you know how… Please, Vix.”

‘...You’re impossible.’

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The memory stopped there, cut off like someone had severed a rope. Daniel was suddenly back in the present, gasping for air. Sweat was running down his back, making his shirt stick to his skin. 

Elania's hands were on his arm, gripping tight enough to leave marks. Her face was inches from his, eyes wide with worry and fear.

Did I save her? Did Vex tell me how? Why would that part still not return?

The fact that this was his first question told him he hadn’t changed much since then. That was… somewhat alarming. 

Self-sacrifice is well and good, but there’s a limit to how willing I should be to die… The healer girl wasn’t even someone I knew, and yet I gave everything for her soul to make it out? And souls are a real thing?

Really, that was the most important question. He had never written souls to be a thing in the story, nor anything about those final moments before the seal activated. Why not? Why did that memory seem restricted somehow?

"Art, talk to me." Elania's voice was firm now, cutting through the fog in his mind.

"...I'm here." He swallowed hard, trying to work moisture back into his mouth. "I just… remembered something."

How would Elania react to knowing he could have escaped the seal? That Vixani had offered him a way out? How he had sacrificed himself in such a way, choosing a stranger's soul over his own life—over her?

"...Well?" She leaned closer, searching his face. Her other hand came up to cup his cheek, warm against his skin.

"It turns out… I'm a bigger fool than you thought." He tried for a smile, but it felt wrong on his face, more a grimace than anything else.

“I find that hard to believe.” Her tone was light, but her eyes were serious.

On stage, the evil healer was still monologuing about the heroes and their downfall. Daniel felt his stomach clench, averting his eyes. 

“I don’t feel like watching anymore. The rest will just leave a bad taste.”

"Yeah, I agree." Elania's hand slid down from his cheek to rest over his heart. "Want me to carry you out?"

He managed a slight chuckle. "Maybe another time. This did end up being an enjoyable experience." He took a deep breath, forcing himself to straighten in his seat. His muscles protested, stiff from tension. "I'm glad you took me here."

“I’m glad you liked it. And it was nice, seeing how people view us today. Mostly.”

"Yeah." Daniel stood from his seat, taking one final glance at the stage before turning away. “I just have to make it known how tragic it really was, in the end.”

"Mmh, you might need my help with that." Elania rose as well, smoothing down her dress with one hand. The red fabric caught the light from his abandoned starpop glass, still glowing on the table. "You're keeping your appearance a secret, right?"

"Yeah, I use Daniel Hansen as my name in public." He ran a hand through his hair, feeling how damp it was with sweat. He probably looked like a mess. "What do you use?"

“Elania. I’m not in public often.”

"Ah, that works." Daniel took a steadying breath, then turned toward the door. “Ready to go to the academy?”

"To your place? How forward." Her voice had returned to that teasing tone, but he could hear the undercurrent of concern still running through it.

"After taking me on such a nice date, of course! I wouldn't want to appear ungrateful." He offered her his arm, along with a hopefully composed smile.

"Mmh, fine then." She looped her arm through his, perhaps a bit tighter than before. Supporting him as much as being supported. "Lead the way, Hansen."

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Deep under the academy, where no one had set foot in centuries, a dusty metal door swung open, pushed by small hands. A dark, domed room greeted him as he entered, ten meters high and twenty wide. The floor was made of perfectly flat rock, the very foundation of everything built above it.

No one knew the way to this place but him, because he was the only one still alive to remember it being built.

This should serve well as a coordinate spot. Though it’s closer to the world seal than I’d like.

Zoltran walked across the domed chamber, quickly casting a spell to clean the dust from the room. It all gathered into a tiny ball, which was then consumed by a black flame, leaving nothing behind.

He stopped in the middle of the room, then bent down to touch the stone below him. The rock was cool against his palm, thrumming with the faint pulse of the seal far below. Glowing runes spread from his hand and out across the floor like ripples in water, creating a formation he'd created many times before.

A coordinate formation made to receive teleporting mages. It was almost needed over such long distances, ensuring that the arrival didn’t end up high in the sky or kilometers away. And each had a personalized signature from the spatial mage teleporting.

Once finished, Zoltran stood back up, brushing dust from his small palms. He checked his index. “Almost time, now. I had to miss my elementary formation class for this, so I hope they have good news.”

He chuckled lightly to himself, as he often did when no one was around to appreciate his jokes. Artorias probably wouldn’t mind his absence.

Then the mana in the room changed, concentrating on the center. The formation on the floor blazed brighter, and suddenly, two mages appeared in the middle of the room. The displacement of air created a soft whomp that Zoltran felt in his chest.

One tall and wise-looking, silver-haired and imposing in deep blue robes. The other small and bored, younger by decades. Both were human by the looks of it.

“Welcome to Javos, fellow Council members.” Zoltran bowed politely to the two men. “I’m glad you came on such short notice.”

"...You're the guardian of this seal?" the shorter man asked, looking at Zoltran like he was a bad joke. The kind of expression people made when confronted with something that didn't match their expectations.

"I am indeed, and have been for the past four thousand years." Zoltran kept his voice light as he spread his arms, gesturing to himself broadly. "This is merely a temporary form."

Both men exchanged glances at the mention of four thousand years. It was a number beyond any human's imagination, and far easier to dismiss as a lie than to confront honestly.

"You do have a certain air about you," the older member said, bowing down to look at Zoltran more closely. "Our records show you're called Zoltran. Is that correct?"

"That is correct. And your names?"

"I am Klum, and this is our spatial mage, Victor." The older man straightened, gesturing to his companion. "We are here on behalf of the Council to investigate the information you sent us a few days ago. You spoke of great dangers lurking in the sea?"

Zoltran felt his expression darken. The world serpent. The egg that should never have been allowed to hatch. 

"Yes, well, I'm afraid that information is already outdated."

He clasped his small hands behind his back, giving a heavy sigh. "After some research, it appears that the egg has hatched, and that the mermaid queen is fighting a drawn-out battle of attrition with the world serpent, which came to life fourteen years ago.

The old man sighed, a deep, weary sound that filled the chamber. He looked at his companion, and something passed between them—a look that made Zoltran's instincts sharpen. "That is no surprise, I'm afraid. But the council has it under control."

Zoltran felt his small heart skip a beat. Something in Klum's tone was wrong. “Oh? I… find that hard to believe. Could you tell me more?”

"Not at this time, no." Klum's expression had shifted, becoming more guarded. "We are primarily here to inquire about the research material you mentioned in your notes, actually."

Zoltran felt his jaw tighten. “On body formations? I only mentioned that the research has been taken care of. Such things should never see the light of day again.”

The smaller mage looked at Zoltran, and this time, there was nothing bored about his expression. His eyes were sharp and tense now. "That is why we will take care of it, guardian. We request that you hand it over."

Without missing a beat, Zoltran shook his head with an apologetic expression. "It's already burned, I'm afraid. I was quite angry after reading through some of the notes." He paused, watching Victor's hand tighten around a small metal device. "But if that's your primary reason for coming, what is your secondary reason?"

Klum’s expression had turned almost apologetic, like he regretted his following words. "To relieve you of your position as guardian. The Council has decided to let you spend the rest of your life free of this heavy responsibility."

Zoltran felt his small hands curl into fists behind his back. 

Four thousand years. Four thousand years of vigilance, of sacrifice, of watching everyone I’ve ever known turn to dust. And now they wanted to ‘relieve’ me?

"...Have you, now?" His voice came out softer than before, deceptively gentle. "Tell me, how is the old turtle doing?"

Klum's expression didn't change, but Victor shifted his weight. "Old Turtle? There are no pets in the Council, guardian."

The emphasis on ‘guardian’ now felt mocking. Past tense, almost.

"No, of course not." Zoltran smiled. It was not a kind expression on his young face, but rather frigid and sharp, like the deepest, most ancient ice.

So either the old turtle is dead, or he has left the council… Since my sworn oath is to protect the seal, that would include protecting it from Council members as well, right?

Of course it did.

“Void.”

The room disappeared around them, stone and air and ancient runes all consumed by absolute darkness. Even the faint pulse of the world seal far below vanished, cut off completely. Only the three of them remained, standing in complete darkness.

"What are you doing, guardian?" Klum's voice echoed strangely in the void, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"I think it's my turn to ask questions, children." Zoltran's voice was different now, layered with ages. The playful little professor was gone, replaced by something far older and infinitely more dangerous.

"I will let you decide if you answer before or after I beat some sense into you."

Ch.56 --|-- Ch.58