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Sages of the Hidden Lights

Arki Darkwater

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-Chapter 14-

Aiko

???

My eyes opened to a rather dull amount of light. I was clearly nowhere in reach of the sunlight. Still, it pained me to do the simple act of opening my eyes. But this was rather because my face was covered in bruises and cuts. From what, I was struggling to remember.

I left home, and put Maren in charge, I recalled. And then I was on the road for a few days. Then I was in Tempest, where I left to go cross the border. So why am I here now? Where is here?

Slowly, the blurriness in my vision started to fade away. Under the dim torchlight, everything still seemed a bit hazy and colorless, but I could at least analyze my surroundings now. On each side of me were old stone-brick walls with moss creeping along in-between the cracks and crevices. The ground was cold and covered in dirt and dust--I must have been somewhere underground, somewhere that hadn't seen the light of day or the presence of another soul for a long while.

There were no windows, nor any other apparatus or ornaments hanging from the walls, other than a single torch on the wall opposite to me. Beyond that wall, I could see that there was a hallway, taking a sharp turn to my left. There must have been an exit somewhere in that direction, and a stairway leading to the surface, but I couldn't get to it. Blocking my path was an old and rusty set of iron bars, locking me within the confines of the small, barren cell.

Then I remembered. That asshole general with the ice magic! And now I've been captured, I recollected. But wait, why am I still alive? He seemed hell-bent on killing me, and I'm certainly not dead.

I tried to get up, but almost immediately gave up from a pure lack of strength. Every muscle in my body ached with pain. Due to an overwhelming urge to not move at all, I decided that my curiosity could lay to rest for the time being. And so I drifted off to sleep.

What could have been either the next few hours or the next few days--I honestly wasn't sure--went by with the same repetitive behavior. I would drift off into a strange kind of hazy sleep, only to wake up an unknown amount of time later. I would sit on my butt and stay still as I used my limited amount of energy to power my brain and think about what my options of escape were. When I would realize that there were none, I would drift back to my unconscious state, and hence the process repeated itself over and over again. My ears buzzed with sound, even through the cold silence that swept the air, and my eyes only saw the same grim, lifeless walls surrounding me and keeping me hostage to their bleak facade.

-Chapter 15-

At some point, reality finally came back to me. From what had felt like a deep and surprisingly pleasant sleep, I was awoken by the sound of a door opening. Soon after that I heard footsteps, and then through my still-blurry vision I saw the silhouette of a tall and burly figure, standing on the other side of the cell's door. There was a jingling noise as the lock was fiddled with, followed by the sound of the door to my hellish box of imprisonment opening. The figure bent down and placed something on the floor. I silently hoped it was some food and water--I was absolutely famished, and my throat felt as dry as a desert.

Then, just as soon as the figure had come, he closed the door with a small clink and walked away, back up the stairway and into the ever-so distant world of Theria's surface.

After he left, I decided that it would be an ideal time to finally get up. Forcing myself to find the strength to move was difficult. My entire body still ached with pain, but I was able to push myself up to my knees. I tried to stand, but my efforts resulted in futility as I only managed to stumble back down. I caught myself with the palms of my paws. From there, I took a deep breath and noticed the visitor's "gifts". For a moment, I was thrilled to see it. My mind instantly plunged into a deep, overwhelming lust for a meal to consume.

My burst of enthusiasm was unfortunately cut short by a further examination of the cuisine, which turned out to be a very pathetic-looking piece of bread and a small gourd of water. After a moment of staring at the disappointing display of room service, I picked the bread up and took a bite.

It might as well have been rock. Bleh.

Maybe some water will make me feel better? I thought.

I gently tipped the gourd into my mouth, making sure not to spill. Such a precious substance couldn't afford to be wasted at a time like this.

A moment later, I gagged.

Or on second thought, maybe this could afford to be wasted. 'Cause it tastes like someone mixed piss with dirt and shit and served it as a gorme soup dish.

"Seriously?!" I shouted out, "you're gonna kick my ass, lock me up down here, and when I find myself starving for food and water, this is the best you can do!?" I clutched onto the bars of my cell, shaking them violently and yelping out in anguish, as if there was any hope of being heard. "I thought for a moment that you guys might have some hospitality! But no! You're a bunch of fucking barbarians!"

I fell onto my back, gasping for breath. I was angry, and I was exhausted, and my food-and-water situation had been left utterly unsatisfied.

Then, from somewhere deep inside of me, the most unexpected thing came out of my mouth: laughter. I just started cackling uncontrollably, and I continued to do so for the next minute or so, until I finally ran out of breath and started choking.

Why the hell am I laughing? I asked myself. This isn't funny at all. I'm probably gonna die in this cell. Slowly and painfully, and for absolutely no purpose.

Once again, I started drifting into deep sleep. My eyes closed and my consciousness faded away, almost as quickly as the small remnants of hope still existing within me were vanquished.

-Chapter 16-

Specter

Tatego, Bælan

"His name is Bodey Aráshvahr, my lord," reported the squire. "He is a knight and military strategist from the kingdom of Uthalia, and one that is highly praised for his skills. He says that Queen Marvhalien sent him here to provide us with his talent and knowledge."

"Why yes, of course," King Bauxtaurus said in his deep and spacious voice. "I was informed by her that we would be receiving him as a predecessor to the additional troops that will soon be on the way. Thank you, squire."

He then turned his gaze to the proud tiger that stood opposite to him. "And you have my thanks as well, Sir Bodey Aráshvahr. Our forces could make good use of your expertise in our offencive with the Northern Alliance, as well as to lend a paw to Aey'Áris. I will be sure to assign you to wherever my heads of military and myself believe is most fitting."

"Of course, King Bauxtaurus. It is my pleasure," Aráshvahr responded with a small bow of courtesy. At this, the king took a moment to observe the fascinating new visitor to his kingdom. He had unusually bright shades of orange that coated his fur, as well as some light shades of brown and cream-like whites. The golden tiger wore a sleeveless black tunic, brown boots and black pants, which all fit nicely with the colors of his fur. His large, bulky frame and regal stature were poised as straight as could be in the king's royal presence. The king knew immediately that Bodey was a warrior of great honor, just like his father before him.

His father, Bauxtaurus recollected.

Some memories began to fade into the cougar king's mind as he remembered the vivid image of Malcolm Aráshvahr. It had been decades ago during the Suribian War when they had fought side by side as young soldiers. They actually knew each other quite well during that time, and Bauxtaurus often wondered where his old friend was these days.

For a moment, the king thought of mentioning to Bodey that he had known Malcolm. His mouth opened to speak, but as several darker memories passed through his thoughts, he closed it and decided that it was best if he stayed quiet.

"That will be all, Aráshvahr. Please feel free to take a look around my castle whilst I inform our military forces of your arrival. Squire!" he shouted, redirecting his attention to the squire. "Show him around, if you'd please."

"Yes, my lord, at once!" he responded promptly. The squire began to walk off towards the west wing of the castle and directed Bodey to follow him. The striped feline tottered out of the cougar's view, his tail sweeping across the glossy silver floors of the castle. The king sat back in his chair as a wave of deep, perplexing thoughts suddenly resurfaced from their long slumber in the back of his mind.

-Chapter 17-

Aiko

???

My eyes once again opened to the sound of the heavy steel door opening. I got up to my feet, grasping the iron bars of the cell door to keep my weak body standing as an all too familiar face came into view.

"Well, aren't you looking lovely this evening, Aiko?" the general said, a sinister tone sneaking through his thick Agu Morran accent. He had done an impeccable job of masking it when we first met at the inn.

"You..." I said quietly, gasping for the breath to speak. Although my stature had significantly improved since I was locked up, my voice was still scratchy and weak.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked.

"My name is General August Rodlan. You may call me whatever you'd like," the bear said simply, scanning me with menacing blue eyes. "It honestly doesn't matter to me. All that I care about is getting the information I need to ascertain the location of the Liaran Artifact. After that, you're little more than cannon fodder to me."

"Alright then. If I'm as good as dead to you, why should I be interested helping you find the Artifact?" I asked him in return. I tried to stand up straight to face him, but a sudden burst of pain in my shoulder caused me to topple back towards the door.

"Oh, it's not your own life that you would be saving, Aiko," he said calmly, "it's someone else's."

Someone else? That could not be good.

I was struck with a sudden combination of confusion and worry. "Who?" I asked warily.

"Who? Hahaha!" The bear chortled at my dismay. "Someone that you may know by the name of Emily Burningham."

My heart sank.

Rodlan grinned.

He had my mother.

"You...y-you're lying!" I stuttered out in disbelief. "How c-could you have p-possibly known?"

"Her name appears several times in this book of yours," Rodlan explained casually. He pulled the book out from his coat pocket and smirked. "Your foster mother, yes? Our initial scan of Hakúmo failed to uncover her hidden Liaran orphanage, but after reading about her in here, we were able to capture her and those pesky Liaran children."

My mouth was hanging open, but I couldn't seem to form any words meaningful enough to counter his revolting ambitions. This is all my fault, I thought to myself frantically. They were safe before I came here. Their lives are only in danger because of my stupidity. I did this...and now they're paying the price.

My gaze grazed his face--his cold eyes, the ghastly smirk on his muzzle--trying to find a trace of at least some compassion or reasonability. But I could only find stringent, loathful apathy.

Amused by my stunned expression, he quietly chortled to himself once again.

"Rodlan, listen to me," I pleaded, shaking on the cell door's bars. "Whatever you want from me, I can't give it to you. You found the book in my bag; surely you must have read it! I know nothing more than what that book says. You have to believe me. Do whatever you like with me, just don't hurt Emily or those kids!"

"Those kids?" Rodlan inquired stupidly, almost as if he was mocking me. "I said Emily Burningham's life is on the line, not theirs. The Seeker Program's policy is to eliminate all Liarans. That's exactly what we did when we uncovered the orphanage."

My heart stopped beating. No, I thought desperately, he couldn't have. There's no way. He couldn't have. He couldn't have!

"Y-you...you're insane," I uttered softly. "You c-couldn't have seriously done that...tell me that you didn't. Tell me that you didn't!"

Rodlan grumbled and rolled his eyes. The amused smirk on his face quickly vanished as he grew more irritated. "I just told you, dumbass. They're already dead, all six of the little fuckers. Now tell me where I can find the Artifact, or I'll kill Emily too."

"I already told you, you evil bastard!" I whimpered desperately, my eyes welling up with tears. "I don't know where it is!"

"Bullshit! The book said it was in eastern Wylfálfwa, which confirms what we already knew. Surely you must know something more!"

"My father wrote it!" I yelped out weakly. "He died when he was young. He never told me anything about the Artifact, I swear!"

The grizzly bear's features curled into a bitter, furrowed scowl. He swung the cell door open, stomped forward and pummeled me down to the cold, lifeless floor with a single punch. I cried out in pain as he thrust his foot into my gut. I begged him to stop, but each plea I made was only returned with yet another a powerful kick to my abdomen.

After several minutes of intense physical abuse, he grabbed me tightly by the throat and heaved me upwards, off my feet.

"Tell me where the fucking Artifact is!" he spat in my bruised, concaved face. I could already taste an abundance of my blood on my lips.

"I d-don't k-know!" I choked out as loudly as I could. Tears were streaming down my face.

What can I say? I thought rampantly. I could tell him some bullshit lie about the Artifact's location, but Rodlan would probably suspect my deceit. But I can't let him hurt Emily! And that's just considering that he hasn't already hurt her.

My options were limited. So was my time.

"Boy, listen to me! I'm only gonna ask you once more, and then I'm gonna start shredding that woman apart, piece by piece, and it'll be as slow and painful as possible! And I'm gonna enjoy every second of it, and then when I'm done with her I'm gonna do the same thing to you, and you'll die knowing that you did it for absolutely nothing!"

This can't be happening. It just can't. It can't, I repeated to myself in a haze of doubt. I refuse to accept it!

"BOY!" the bear roared menacingly. "Speak up RIGHT NOW or I'll rip her fucking heart out with my own bare paws!"

"Alright!" I let out, gasping for air. Rodlan let me down. I could hear him breathing heavily amidst the newfound silence. His chaotic shouting had temporarily ceased at the sound of my most recent interjection.

I sighed, shook my head timidly, and then warily looked up at the general.

"I'll talk."

-Chapter 18-

Year 835

"Run," he said. I could see the tears welling up in his eyes. The elder wolf knelt down in front of me and took my tiny, fragile paw and held it firmly within his own larger, stronger one.

Only then did anything make sense. I could feel the rapid beating of his heart. I could feel waves of remorse and sadness coursing through me, just as they did through him. Through the warmth of his paw, I could feel him expressing the love he had for me, and the regret he held knowing what would inevitably unfold in the next few moments.

But beneath all the guilt, sadness, and mournful loving, I sensed something else flow into me, something far greater. There was a tinge of light, buried within the unrelentless despair. The light was infinitesimal, but somehow I knew it had the power to outshine any force of darkness, no matter how vast it may have been.

That little tinge of light was hope.

Father wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a tight embrace. "I love you, Aiko," he said softly. He reluctantly pulled away from the hug and gave me a warm, mellow smile. I gazed up at his scruffy, white-furred face and kind brown eyes, knowing all too well he intended that smile to be the last one he'd ever give me.

He pulled a book out from his baggy brown robes and thrust it into my small arms. It was a leather cover encompassing a mess of frayed pages, bound together with silky red twine. Father didn't say a word; instead, he merely nodded. By the look on his face, I knew the book must have been important. I clutched onto it as tightly as I could.

"Run away, Aiko," he said softly, his tone firm and earnest. "Run as far south as you can, and don't stop until you've made it to the river."

Just then, there was a loud banging noise on the door. That brought everything back into focus. Outside our cottage, I could hear the village descending into chaos. People were screaming, shouting, bleeding, dying.

Father frantically glanced back at the door, then returned his gaze to me. Tears were streaming down his face. "When I open the door, run as fast as you can, and don't look back. I love you, Aiko." He kissed my forehead and got back up to his feet. He walked up to the door and paused for a long moment. His breathing was quick and shallow, and his body was shaking. Beneath the sound of incessant pounding on the door, I could hear him quietly sobbing.

After a painfully long moment, he finally reached forward and unlocked the door. It flung open, and three Seekers bolted forward, swords raised.

Father's feet stayed firmly planted on the cottage's floor. Although fear had prevailed a moment earlier, unwavering confidence now took root. He brought his palms together to form a bright sphere of energy between them, then pulled his paws apart to siphon the energy into a glowing staff. Grabbing it firmly, he swung it to counter the Seekers' blades.

With the Seekers occupied with my father, I had an opening to escape. I bolted through the open doorway, and just as I had been told, I didn't look back. I ran through the village streets, dodging the wreckage and carnage as best I could. The only time I stopped was to briefly glance at a corpse that I unmistakably recognized as my mother. But I couldn't stop to mourn. I had to keep running.

I soon made it to the forest. I kept running. The Thitus River was only a few miles south of our village, but for a young child, it was quite a distance to venture. I wasn't even sure where to go, or how to get there. To my faint and bleary recollection, it was almost as if that same light my father had given me earlier was guiding me through the forest.

When I made it to the river, there was a cloaked figure waiting for me with a small canoe parked on shore.

"You must be Aiko?" she asked calmly. She reached a paw down to me, but I stood there frozen, unsure of who she was or whether I would be safe. Looking up, I saw her kind, rounded face, shrouded by a dark-green hood, keeping her dry for the misty rain.

The ocelot turned to her canoe and pulled out a small cloak from a compartment in the front. She leaned down, wrapped it around my shoulders, and pulled the hood over my head. Then she smiled. "My name is Emily. Your father arranged for me to find you here."

I couldn't bring myself to say anything. Instead I just fell forward into her arms and started sobbing. My parents were gone, my village was destroyed. I was alone in the world. All I had was this unfamiliar woman--my new saviour--and the book I cradled in my arms.

-Chapter 19-

The raiding of my village and loss of my parents has been the earliest memory I've ever been able to clearly discern. I was about six or seven at the time, but I can't say for certain how old I was then, or how old I am now. That was roughly twelve years ago.

The village was called Kiriek, a poor little settlement in southeastern Agu Morra. For a long while, it had secretly been home to many Liaran descendants, hiding their identities from the rest of the public. But it was only a matter of time before the government would inevitably catch wind of its existence.

Checking the identities of everyone in the village would've been too slow and meticulous, and understandably would've caused panic among the villagers. The Seekers instead went for a swift and easy solution, slaughtering the entire village's population in one foul swoop. In all likelihood, I was one of a select few lucky enough to escape with my life that day.

I grew up in Emily Burningham's orphanage with several other Liaran children, all of whom lost their parents under circumstances similar to my own. None of them knew much about their past, or even much about their Liaran heritage, aside from the fact that they were widely hated by much of Therian society. I, on the other paw, had my father's book to learn from.

Everything inside the book he had written himself. There was information about his ancestors, Liaran culture and history, and even some of his own personal notes and observations. He often theorized what our world was like outside of Theria, if you were to venture beyond the vast oceans to the South, or the large, towering mountains in the frigid North. Most people just assumed those barriers are impassable, considering that all explorers who have ever attempted to venture out that far have never returned. But my father firmly believed there was a bigger, grander world beyond Theria, and that we simply had yet to acquire the means to access it.

The Great Northern Mountain Range, as infinite as it may seem to our limited perspective, surely must wither to an end at some distant point. Beyond them could be wonders vaster than any Therian has ever known--fantastic new sights, tantalizing new creatures, perhaps even new species of sentient cognition like ourselves. I once heard a Liaran legend describing an ancient race of sentient avian creatures that are reborn through fire each time they die. Perhaps such creatures reside in the Far North, just beyond our reach.

Of course, the book also contained a lot of information about sorcery. Back when it was still around, Liaran society was far more strongly influenced by magic than any other society in Theria. My father proudly carried on that tradition, and by learning from his book, so have I.

The key to using magic is focus, Aiko. When you perform a spell, you should have a clear objective in your mind. For example, if your objective is to illuminate a dark room with an illumination spell, you must direct all your focus to the formation of light. Cup your paws together, concentrate, and imagine light in its purest form. If your mind is utterly devoted to the creation of light, it should begin to appear between your palms.

Scattered throughout the book were notes he had written for me, like this one. As I grew up, reading them allowed me to get to know my father intimately, something I hadn't the opportunity to do while he was still around. That book was my most important possession. It was the only link I had to my parents and my heritage. It was the hearthstone of my being.

And then I lost it. All thanks to my stupid carelessness.

My body was limp, sprawled out on the cold prison floor. My fur was caked in dried blood. My face was bruised. My nose felt broken. My limbs ached too much to move them. Through the cuts on my skin, I could already feel infection setting in. I hadn't eaten in days.

I was slowly dying in that god forsaken cellar, but all I could think about was the immense guilt coursing through me. I had put Emily in danger, led six innocent children to their deaths--my own people, nonetheless--and lost my father's book, the only existing remnant of his legacy.

All I could do was mull over all the opportunities to protect it I had dismissed. Why hadn't I just left it with Maren and the others? It would have been far safer with them, and I knew that. But the book gave me a connection to my father. It helped me learn magic. It taught me about the world my ancestors left behind, and the dangers of the world I now live in. Having it with me made me feel safe and protected. Without it, I felt vulnerable. Exposed. Unsure of myself. Powerless.

And like the wimpy little shit that you are, you couldn't give up that security blanket, said a voice in the back of my head. You lost the book because without your daddy, you can't do jack shit. Without your papa, you can't even think on your own. And now, thanks to your stupid insecurities, you lost the book. You lost your father's pride, his soul, the only part of him that survived his death--and he died, I should remind you, only because he fought to save you.You're a worthless piece of shit, Aiko. You don't deserve to be alive in his place.

If I had the strength, I would've punched myself in the face. Rodlan hadn't delt nearly as much damage as I deserved.

And while we're on the topic of General Rodlan, none of this would've happened if you were more cautious when you checked into the inn. Did you really think it was a good idea to tell him you were on route to Hakúmo? To leave your bags unprotected as you slept? You're a careless dumbass, Aiko. It's pathetic.

You must always be careful, Aiko. Never let your guard down. As much as I regret to admit it, the Liaran people are widely detested in our world. Our white fur exposes our arctic origins. Liarans who live in the North will blend in; but if they are discovered, the law sentences them to immediate execution. For those who have escaped to the South, they will stand out as outsiders. Should their identity be unearthed, however, their chances of survival are far greater, as folks in the South are somewhat more forgiving of what they deem as our peoples' past transgressions. Regardless, you will find it in your best interest to keep your identity hidden from those you wouldn't trust with your very life.

I was a failure.

My death felt imminent. And for some reason, I was okay with that.

At the very least, I could rest easy knowing I had probably thrown Rodlan off-track on his search for the Artifact. In truth, I had no idea where it was. My father's book only gave brief mention to it.

The Artifact was assumed by many to have been destroyed amidst the genocide. In truth, the weapon's fate is largely unknown, although my father once told me that at the very least, there existed a plan by our ancestors to hide it in a remote village in eastern Wylfálfwa.

Wylfálfwa was the largest of the five districts ancient Liara was divided into. The capital city, Afálfwa, was situated in the West, while the eastern half was more rural, with many small villages scattered about. The probability of the Artifact being in Girún--where I directed Rodlan to--was minimal, assuming the Artifact still existed at all.

It was a small comfort on my part, but hardly a distraction from everything else that had just happened to me. Guilt lingered in my gut, boiling up and burning me from the inside out.

Moving forward from setbacks was never an easy task. Losing my parents was devastating. Emily's orphanage provided me with safety and love, but it didn't help remove the emotional scars from that last day in Kiriek. I was shy and withdrawn, and usually avoided interacting with the other kids. If I needed somewhere to hide, I would retreat into the world of my father's book. Whereas the outside world was vast and confusing to my tortured mind, the book gave me clarity and helped me make sense of the world. Learning magic from it gave my life purpose and direction.

I left the orphanage a few years prior to now. It was sad to leave Emily, but I wanted to explore and find new opportunities to develop my skills as a mage. I promised to come back and visit her once and awhile. Prior to the war, I never got the chance.

I headed east, to Bælan. Along the way I had the fortune of meeting some experienced mages. My apprenticeship in each case was brief, but enlightening, and from them I was able to learn and expand my abilities tenfold.

Soon I met Ruby and Shiro, two fellow orphans, and we decided to travel together. Soon after that we met Odie, and a while after that, Maren and Medley. The six of us became a family and eventually settled in Aurro.

We had very little money. We gathered what resources we could from nature. We scavenged for food, materials to build the Hovel, and wood to burn for warmth. I took all the job offers I could find to earn some money, although opportunities were limited.

Not a day has gone by when I wasn't preoccupied with acquiring the basic necessities our family needed for survival. Our lives were trapped in an endless cycle of poverty. But I knew that I had to stay positive for them. It didn't matter how I felt. Even if I felt utterly hopeless and emotionally broken on the inside, I couldn't let that show, no matter what. If I kept working as hard as I could and kept a confident smile on my face, then everything would turn out okay. In their eyes, it would be a simple fact. I loved them, and I wanted nothing more than for them to be happy. So I kept smiling.

Even when life appears to you as an inescapable void of despair and pain, you must persevere, Aiko. Cling onto the things and people you love most, and with all of your might, for only with them will you find the strength to keep steady on your feet.

There were exactly two things in this world with the power to keep me moving forward: my family, for one.

And my father's book for the other.

And now, lying on the cold, lifeless floor of that cellar, I was sure I had permanently lost both.

My smile was gone. The faith I held in myself, if it ever even existed, was gone as well.

Clutched weakly in my paw was the only thing I still had. A smooth, perfectly round stone, small enough that I could rest it in my palm, wrap my fingers around it, and doing so would render it undetectable to the eyes of others. To Rodlan it must've appeared as though I was simply clenching my fist.

I held it up to my face and stared at it for a long, dreary moment. It was a snowy white color with a few small blotches of black and brown. It took me a minute before I realized it, but Shiro had tried to draw my face on it with chalk.

For good luck.

I could see his face again. That look he gave me when he knew I was going away. I could see the sadness welling up in his innocent blue eyes. Shiro looked up to me. He admired me. And only my return could take that look off his face.

I didn't know what else to do, so I cried.