aamon paxley X o.c. • the duke and the runaway

32.

I'm almost to the heart. He inwardly spoke within his mind as the magical glass that displayed the image of a map shattered into pieces.

A man with platinum white hair stood on a cliff. His blue orbs narrowed, one of it peering through a half-framed spectacle for his left eye perched on the bridge of his nose. He let his right arm rest upon his knee that supported itself on a large rock whilst he overlooked the outskirts of a battle. A battle that he never thought he would have seen before.

It was a battle between elves, humans and demons. The last one being the enemy of the first two. It was a horrifying scene to witness the slaughter of every breathing being whose souls were suck into a lavender colored field.

Even though he had seen this one from his previous travels through time and space, this compelled him to remember his birthplace. The place of scholars where he grew up to be a naturally-gifted leader.

It reminded him of the apocalyptic state in Eruditio.

He remembered the endless war that led humanity into despair. Those abyssal demons and their leader, the Lord of Abyss, plundered them with pain and havoc like the cracks that spidered across the crust of the Land of Dawn. Men, women and children; the young and old; and different families were forced into the scene of desolation.

It pained his heart to play the movie of the endless battle in his consciousness. It was the last stand in humanity. While all the other Moniyan Cities crumbled to the ground, Eruditio was the only light that remained, the one that strived to rekindle its flames of hope.

It was no longer the City of Scholars, instead it became the last shield against the forces of darkness.

Then the man activated the portable device on his back and he pointed the golden pike-like length out in front of him. It was a time machine that served him as his power and weapon.

His bridge back to the past. The fraction in the time where he was standing now. He knew that the future had to change. Even if it meant a lifetime spent searching the sprawling expanses of time and space, the man would never give up hope, for such hope didn’t belong to him alone. It was the hope of everyone in the Moniyan.

Series of clicks followed as the pointed weapon, similar to a hand of a clock, released a golden light energy, thus forming a round portal with a yellowish circle brimming at its edge with its middle basked in a blue, star-flecked atmosphere.

Then the Spacetime Walker stepped through space and time with a notion in his heart and mind.

Just as long as he kept going, and never gave up, there was still a chance for the survival of the Land of Dawn.

.

The moon was illuminating the sky with its beauty.

Seraphima kept quiet as she took her time to bandage Aamon's leg, her cheeks still flushing pink.

The waves have finally died down, making small little foams where the sea ended, the pair moved up a bit, not setting on the damp sand.

Before her was the duke, who was patiently watching her medicating him, an amused smirk on his fashionably pale face. He understood why she was flustered and it was because of him. Thus, it made him think that seeing her blushing mess was an achievement to him.

"There," she said, "I finished it."

He glanced at his leg and sighed deeply. The pain was still there, prickling ag his flesh but it wasn't worse like before. Then she stood up, brushing the bits of sand of her clothes and stretching out her hand towards him.