Divine

Chapter 1 - Relic of the Future

(A/N - subject to changes in the future)

ALEA TRISCAN

Golden capitals peered atop pillars of stone, above which an arched recess was perched. The floor was lined with intricate patterns, receding into elaborate designs, where the walls stood pristine and divided.


The room—if one could even call it that—was impeccable. Unmatched in splendor and unlike anything I've ever seen.


An ancient void gave way to a spacious reserve that, despite its grand size, felt suffocating. The faint smell of monolithic mineral lingered – a wild contrast to the floral scents that clung to the royal palace and permeated its surroundings.


The lances sat around a large wooden table at the center, separated by a respectable distance, like the ever-present gap between our races.


Despite my reservations, the meeting proceeded much more smoothly than expected.


Aside from the occasional comment, the initial briefing was orderly and deferential, with the majority remaining otherwise silent throughout.


Varay sat at the far end, her back to the window, overlooking a map of Dicathen as she flicked through a stack of paper. Every shift, every little movement, was minute and efficient. She made it look effortless, which was not surprising given her aptitude and prowess.


Like the mana that coursed through her veins, Varay grabbed our attention like it was one of her own spells. Instant and absolute.


She commanded the room as if it belonged to her without having to even lift a finger. A remarkable feat had it been anyone else. For her, it was more of an innate ability.


People often saw her as a paragon of virtue; her regal bearing was underlined by a confident demeanor that draped over her very being like a mantle, enshrouded by a perpetual calm.


She was dignified and decisive, possessing all the qualities of a natural leader. Her lack of emotion only further emphasized her frigid exterior but did nothing to undermine her firm disposition. She was known for nothing if not her inexpressive tendencies.


There was something about her presence that I couldn't quite put into words. Her gaze would turn distant — adopting an unassuming quality — and a keen sharpness would be felt wherever she directed it. 

It was because of that unspoken fact that none ever dared challenge her position. The mere thought of provoking that unequivocal authority gave me chills. If there ever came a day when Varay looked at me like that and smiled, all hell would freeze over.


Varay spared a cursory glance at the reports before shifting her attention toward us. "Are there any more questions?"


Mica immediately leapt to her feet. A hand raised high above her head.


"Can Mica go to Elenoir too? Mica always wanted to visit the elven kingdom!" she beamed.


The outburst was so sudden that, for a moment, the room went completely silent.


From the corner of my eye, I saw Aya bite the side of her cheek. She had a vacant stare, almost like she wanted to disappear. Maybe she was contemplating whether it was worth the trouble.


Mica caught it as well, and her grin seemed to widen. But maybe I was mistaken.


Olfred's stern expression crumbled like sand. He let out a deep, guttural sigh while massaging his temples as if physically afflicted. "You are no longer a student of the institute, Miss Earthborn. Please try to refrain from your whimsical desires."


"Just because Olfred never wants to leave Darv doesn't mean Mica has to be stuck babysitting you," she pouted. "Mica wants to go on adventures with her sisters!"


'Sister,' I repeated. It was a casual statement. A simple utterance of no deeper meaning. And yet... The realization of how much I missed him hit me hard. Looking down, I rubbed my hands together and pushed aside the guilt that tried to swallow me.


Biting my lips, I quelled the longing ache that resurfaced whenever I thought about him. A tidal wave of emotions washed over me, like a painful reminder that I couldn't escape. Because to do so meant forgetting him — his face, his voice, his gentle smile...


'Focus, Alea. Pull yourself together.'


I smiled wistfully, hoping that no one noticed my distress.


"What if we get into a fight? Mica can scout the terrain!"


"What good would it do to know the terrain when you can't even navigate the forest?" Olfred deadpanned.


"That's what Mica's elven sisters are for," she grinned. "They'll help Mica, right?"


I couldn't confidently say that Aya too looked thrilled, admittedly. Her face twitched and the unfaltering mask she wore, hidden behind a veil of levity and flamboyance, cracked ever so slightly. I could almost see sparks flying between them.


Appreciating the distraction, I kindly laughed at Mica's enthusiasm and her boundless ardor that permeated the room. "Of course, Mica. I'd be delighted to show you around."


Her eyes sparkled like the minerals in Vildorial. It was amazing how someone could be so energetic and full of excitement, but also have the strength to level entire mountains like they were nothing.


Varay and Bairon stayed silent throughout the exchange, doing their best to ignore Mica's eccentric behavior.


"There will be plenty of opportunities to get acquainted," Varay said, storing the map in her dimension ring. "It is imperative for us to work closely together."


She stared long and hard at each of us and I saw something akin to worry reflected in her dark brown eyes.


"The future of Dicathen may very well depend on it," she said. "Stay vigilant, be cautious, and don't grow complacent."


It was rare for her to show concern. Or any kind of emotion, really. Maybe it was her way of reminding us that for all our strength and power, we were neither invincible nor truly safe from harm. I reached for the tag around my neck. The implications of its meaning were not lost on any of us.


Taking her words to heart, we all saluted and gave her a perfunctory nod.


Though there may still be barriers between our kingdoms, differences that may never diminish, no matter how hard we try, we were the ones entrusted to protect that fragile peace. If not from others, then at least from ourselves.


"That is all for now. Dismissed."


As the others excused themselves, Aya and I made our way up the spiraling staircase toward the residential floors, sauntering past a pair of guards and a group of handmaid.


Her steps were light and measured, denoted by the lack of sound and her impeccable control over mana. I could barely sense her despite being so close.


She walked with an elegant gait that left me feeling more inadequate than not. I tried my best not to compare myself to her, which was honestly asking for too much.


Between the two of us, Aya was — without a doubt — the stronger fighter.


It showed in the way she carried herself. The distribution of her weight, her rhythmic breathing, and even the hypnotic sway of her hips. A feeling of insecurity threatened to render my self-confidence asunder. I pursed my lips at the unfairness of it all. 


"You're going to trip if you stare too much."


I snapped my head up in time to see Aya smirking at me with a mirthful glint in her eyes. With the discretion of someone who just got caught looking, I turned my face away as heat crept up my ears.


"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Lance Aya," I coughed.


Aya clasped her hands behind her back, unfazed by my pitiful deflection. The corners of her lips curled upward knowingly as she raised an eyebrow.


"How strange. I could have sworn I felt someone's gaze just now."


"Perhaps your magic has made you susceptible to illusions," I said with an innocent smile. "It's probably just your imagination."


Aya made a charming sound that few ever had the privilege of hearing. She stifled a chuckle and shook her head.


"Perhaps you're right. We're the only ones in this hallway, after all. And surely you wouldn't be so daring as to... appraise me so openly, would you?" she winked.


"O-of course not," I stammered, finding the walls to be more interesting. I ignored her look of judgment with practiced ease.


As we approached our quarters, my mind wandered to our early days working as royal guards. Aya has changed a lot since then. In some ways, I guess we both have.


She was one of the few people I've spent most of my life with besides my brother. It was comforting to have her by my side. That familiarity was like a pillar of strength that I could always rely on. A feeling of home, even though I had none. She acted like an older sister. Maybe Mica's claim held some truth, after all.


Aya always spoke in that tantalizing voice that made you want to lean in closer. It was no surprise how she became so adept when every word she uttered was suffused with her deviant magic. Whenever I asked her about it, she only gave me vague answers, saying something about how it — supposedly — honed her skill. I couldn't tell whether that applied to her skill in combat or breaking hearts, though.


I remembered when we were younger how she would always turn down suitors and decline marriage proposals like it was a common occurrence. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't feel slightly envious.


It wouldn't have worked out, anyway. That kind of life just wasn't for us. We who dedicated ourselves in service to the kingdom's rulers. The battlefield became our calling.


As peaceful as it sounded, a quiet house in the middle of Elshire was nothing more than a forlorn dream. It was a shame that it would never come true.


Such was the nature of those who desired what they could not have.


I held myself tighter, gripped by woeful yearning. How I wished I could hold him again.


In my self-induced daze, I felt Aya bump into me with her shoulder. She must have read my thoughts because her usual smile was gone, replaced by a tender frown and furrowed brows.


"What's wrong?" In a rare display of affection, she spoke in a voice devoid of her seductive timbre. The last time I heard it was at the funeral.


"Nothing," I said. I put on a rehearsed smile, knowing she didn't buy it for a second.


Aya didn't push any further, and we kept walking quietly, side by side, as I rested my head on her shoulder.


"You don't have to force yourself," she said.


That's what I loved about her. Behind her witty remarks and playful teasing, she was more caring than she was willing to admit.


"I'm not letting you go alone." I righted myself when we stopped in front of her room. "Unless you want me to ask Mica instead?"


Aya rolled her eyes and relented when I nudged her forward.


"I'll be there, so don't leave without me," I winked.


After being sent off with a wave, I wandered around the castle, feeling restless.


The corridors were covered in runes that were etched into the walls. They likely held some meaning or significance, but no one had deciphered it yet.


What a pity, I thought.


Making my way to the upper levels, I came to a stop near a balcony that had an overlooking view of the landscape. A vast expanse of trees stretched endlessly toward the Grand Mountains.


I stared at the horizon and imagined what lay beyond. To think that we would send our ships across such a large stretch of water. How long would it take? And what would we find? Countless scenarios flashed in my mind, and I couldn't help but feel anxious. A warring premonition never bode well. I only hoped we were ready for whatever came our way.


My respite was short-lived as I felt a familiar mana signature behind me and turned around to see a tall figure rounding the corner.


"Lance Bairon. What a pleasant surprise." I brushed my hair aside, hoping he didn't notice my disheveled state.


He gave a terse nod and returned my greeting. "I apologize for interrupting. I hadn't realized you were here."


"Not at all," I waved. "I was just getting some fresh air myself. Please, by all means."


He walked up next to me with slow and steady steps, always within my view, and stopped a few paces to my left.


Being so close, it was easy to notice his towering build as he stood a head taller than me. It was almost like he was the physical representation of our disparity.


Leaning on my back, I took a moment to gaze at the stars, admiring the serene atmosphere and the solace it provided. Specks of iridescent light shimmered faintly against the darkness. I could have spent the entire night counting them and it still wouldn't be enough.


Bairon stood with his arms crossed, staring off into the ether like he was looking for something. An answer, or guidance perhaps. He would find neither, though. I've been searching my whole life.


"What brings you out here so late, general?"


He seemed taken aback at being addressed, but quickly composed himself. "Nothing exciting, I assure you. The quiet hours help clear the mind."


I tilted my head. "There seems to be a lot plaguing yours."


Bairon hummed. "Doubts weigh heavily on the conscience."


"Sometimes, it helps to confide in those willing to lend an ear or two." I wiggled my own as if to prove my point.


The edges of his lips curved upward, an amused gleam present in his soft green eyes.


"I appreciate it, Lance Alea. But I wouldn't want to burden you with my trivial concerns."


I created a flower in my hand, tracing the edges of its petals. A habit I picked up when I was younger.


"Burdens can be shared. And trivial though they may be, insignificant they are not." I offered him the flower. "Come on, humor me."


Bairon took the flower reluctantly. A refusal already waiting on his tongue, but he stopped himself. I understood his conflicted expression all too well. Still, I wanted him to know.


"I won't force you. We all have our secrets." As well as our demons. "But if you tell me about despair, yours, then I'll tell you mine. How about that?"


I waited patiently as seconds passed by in silence.


Eventually, his shoulders sank, and he hunched forward, leaning on the edge of the balcony. His straight, unwavering posture collapsed underneath the weight of an invisible force that seemed too great even for him to carry.


"There are times I ask myself... if this title wasn't merely given to me by virtue of my family name."


There was a hint of frustration in his voice. An uncertainty that seemed to make him question his own existence.


"Whether my actions hold any meaning."


His mana surged and crackled as sparks of lightning manifested, brimming with power, waiting to be unleashed. I felt the tempest of emotions, his inner turmoil barely concealed beneath his hardened frame.


"It's as though I'm bound, a prisoner of my lineage." He scowled. "But without it... what am I?"


With a sympathetic smile, I gently squeezed his arm, making his eyes widen. Whether it was because of the foreign touch, or him realizing that he was about to destroy the balcony, it was hard to tell.


"I'm sorry. That was unbecoming of me."


I smoothened out the crease on his uniform. "There's nothing to be sorry for."


Something about his sheepish apology contrasted my image of the lance's prideful reputation. It was kind of endearing. I leaned forward and rested my chin on the palm of my hand. Seeing a new side of him was a novel experience.


"When they chose me, I felt like I didn't really belong here either." I conjured a vine around my arm, flexing my magic, and watched as it moved to accommodate my will. "You were all so much stronger, and I know better than anyone my own faults and shortcomings. I didn't want to be the one who held you all back."


I released my hold, and the plants disappeared. "Even now, I'm unsure if I'm even worthy of standing beside you. However..."


I pictured my brother in his last moments. A dull ache overcame me.


"Regardless of how we both arrived here, don't you think it's more important for us to do what we can now to prove ourselves?"


Bairon looked thoughtful as we kept our eyes forward.


"It's what you do with the title — the responsibility — bestowed on you." I met his eyes. "Even I can tell that you're more than capable. There's no need to discredit yourself so."


His face softened. "Thank you."


"Everything you do from now on will be because of your efforts and yours alone. No one can take that away from you."


His face relaxed into something more peaceful. "I will keep that in mind."


"And if you were to forget someday, I'll happily remind you again." I chuckled. "On a different note, how is your brother doing?"


Bairon sighed and sank even further. He made a complicated expression that was hard to read.


"He's attending Xyrus Academy soon as a first-year."


"Your family must be pleased."


Bairon snickered. "Father won't have any complaints as long as he becomes stronger. I'm sure he wouldn't hesitate to send him to an S-rank dungeon by himself if it would expedite his growth."


"He's a half-elf, right?"


"Yes." He looked pained admitting that out loud. It wasn't hard to figure out why. "I apologize. I don't condone our actions, but—"


"Lance Bairon," I said sharply. "Your family's decisions do not reflect your own. Do not shoulder blame which is not yours."


He clenched his fists. "Still..."


"It's all in the past," I said, trying not to dwell on the matter. "But it's quite impressive that he became an adventurer at such a young age."


Releasing his grip, Bairon replied, "He awakened early. Father has high expectations, but he never saw him as anything more than a tool."


His form deflated, withering like a plant with no water. I stared off into the distance.


"I used to have a little brother as well. Ariel." Just saying his name brought a smile to my face. "I lost him during the war. Just days before it was about to end. I've blamed myself ever since for not being there when he needed me."


"I'm sorry," he whispered.


"So am I... Even though we had our fair share of arguments, I cherished him more than anything." I reached out, grasping at thin air. "You should make sure that you don't come to regret your choices either, Lance Bairon. Before it's too late to make amends."


His lips thinned as he exhaled through his nose.


"I'll confront him properly." He turned to me again. "Thank you, Lance Alea."


I gave him a wink and spared one last glance at the sky.


"It's been a pleasure, but I think I'll take my leave," I said. "I'd love to indulge more but, perhaps another time."


"Of course. Rest well, general. And good luck tomorrow."


Just before we were out of earshot, I stopped and turned back. "Your secrets are safe with me, Bairon. I trust you will extend the same courtesy?"


He lowered his head and responded with a bow. "On my pride and honour as a lance."


"Thank you," I said. "I look forward to our next rendezvous."


***


Aya and I departed early in the morning and began making our way toward the Beast Glades. Howling winds blew against us as we flew over mountains, passing rivers and valleys.


We came to a small opening between the trees and continued our trek on foot.


It was oddly quiet despite the early hours. The outskirts were deathly still, and I barely saw any signs of wildlife.


Aya noticed it too. But we disregarded the abnormality as we neared the entrance of a large cave.


"Think there are any midnight grizzlies inside?" I asked.


Aya smirked and rolled her eyes.


"What? Nothing wrong with some light exercise."


"So your first thought is to go look for trouble?" She raised her eyebrow. "Has no one ever told you not to poke the sleeping grizzly?"


"We'll be fine," I assured. "Might as well make the most of it while we're here."


With a heavy sigh, Aya shook her head and began leading the way. "What am I going to do with you?" she mumbled.


"Come on," I said. "Humor me."


The tunnel was covered in patches of moss, and an earthy scent pervaded the air. Plants grew from the cracks and fissures, illuminating the gloomy space in a turquoise hue.


Aya formed a barrier around us, making it easier to maneuver around without being detected. It never hurt to be too cautious.


The dungeon itself was a maze of twists and turns that made it easy to get disoriented. We still haven't encountered a single mana beast either. It made me wonder whether a party had cleared out the dungeon recently.


As we delved deeper, it soon became clear that the lower levels hadn't been frequented at all. Most of the paths were untouched, and there wasn't any obvious residue.


Something felt off. This kind of behavior wasn't normal.


Aya motioned for us to stop. She closed her eyes, listening intently for any signs of movement. "Alea, can you sense anything?"


I stretched my perception throughout the far reaches of the cavern as vines extended along the surface. I focused my senses on the tendrils that branched out into different sections.


Then I felt it. A shift in the air. Like something was being displaced.


Before I could respond, a loud thud echoed ahead of us. Then, silence. Aya pressed a finger to her mouth.


"Stay behind me." Her voice whispered in my ears despite her mouth not moving. I shuddered at the sensation. I still couldn't get used to her illusions.


Trusting her to keep us concealed, I fell into step behind her as we closed in on the source.


We approached a path that diverged, leading us to a cave that veered off to the side. Aya slowed down as we came to a cluster of rocks, stopping at a narrow opening. Our eyes widened at the sight in front of us.


In the middle lay a prone figure, unmoving.


A white cloak covered his back. Pale wheat hair ran down his shoulder and covered parts of his face. The smell of smoke and ozone lingered, but I disregarded it and focused my attention on him instead.


We walked forward cautiously, scanning the immediate surroundings for threats. Aya knelt by his side and turned him over, making sure he was alive. He wore a simple black uniform that had seen better days. The form-fitting cloth was riddled with cuts and holes.


Who was he? And how did he end up here?


For someone to have come all this way alone...


"How is he?"


Aya checked his body for injuries. "Seems fine for now. I think his core is damaged."


His skin was milky white; I couldn't help but notice how flawless it looked. Almost ethereal. Otherworldly.


Something caught my eye. There was a black stain on his wrist. Curiously, I lifted his sleeve and gasped.


His forearm had dark purple markings that covered his entire skin. It ran up his shoulder like a second layer. Only his hands and face were unblemished. I could faintly make out the same symbols below his collar.


"Those runes..." Aya ran her fingers over his skin.


I eyed him warily. "Is it safe to assume he's an adventurer?"


"That's the only explanation. We can ask him once he wakes up."


"But why is he alone? Surely, his party didn't abandon him?"


Accidents happened all the time and crimes were all too common. He's lucky to have been found.


"Let's not jump to conclusions. We should take him to an emitter."


I bent down to help Aya, but suddenly she froze. That's when I felt it. A thick oppressive aura that took the air out of my lungs. My vision dimmed, and I thought I was going to black out.


I turned my head. Staring at us were cold, golden irises. Bright yellow slits regarded us languidly as his dull, almost lifeless eyes fluttered and dilated. Despite being in a vulnerable state, he seemed completely unconcerned about our presence. The threat was apparent.


He stared right at me, and I felt my heart beat faster. Sweat trickled down my neck. My instincts were screaming. I stood still, unable to move or breathe. 


Aya tensed, like a spring ready to uncoil at the slightest provocation. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.


For a moment, I saw something akin to recognition behind his glare. His eyes widened, and a flurry of emotions too fast for me to make out flashed and vanished just as quickly.


He turned to Aya, finally aware of her presence, and stilled. He moved his mouth as if trying to say something, only managing a raspy croak.


"Aya? Alea?" he said, eventually. His voice was hoarse and grating. Almost like he hasn't used it in years.


Aya lowered her sword. I noticed I had pulled out a vine in my hand and quickly dispelled it. What was that tension? I've never felt such a strong bloodlust even from feral mana beasts.


Before I could calm down, a hand reached out, grabbing the hem of my uniform, and my heart nearly jumped out of my throat. He held us both, his knuckles clenched so tight that I thought it would rip our armor. But that was the least of my worries.


His gaze was downcast. I felt a tremor through his hand. If he wanted to attack, then he would have already done so, I rationalized.


Still, I hesitated. Unsure of what to do. Slowly, I grasped his hand with as much care as I could. Aya shook her head at me, warning me not to, but it was too late.


"It's okay. You're safe now," I said. "Do you remember what happened to you?"


I heard something wet hit the floor. He looked up, and to my surprise, tears were streaming down his face.


His lips were quivering, and his face contorted into a grimace.


Something about his expression reminded me of the survivors. Those who had lost family, friends, and comrades on the front lines. He had the same face — the face of someone forced to relive the horrors and tragedies every time they closed their eyes, tormented by their own grief. Survivor's guilt.


Why does someone so young have that look on his face? What kind of hell has he gone through to end up like this? I couldn't even begin to imagine the depths of his misery.


"I'm sorry..." he choked out.


He was beyond broken. An empty shell. His entire being was barely holding together, like pieces of shattered glass that would never be whole again.


Aya and I were pulled into an awkward hug as his arms wrapped around us.


We looked at each other. Neither of us knew what to do.


Wordlessly, I leaned forward and held him reassuringly, unknowing of the hardships that he's endured.


His sobs grew louder and louder.


Aya whispered softly in his ear.


I ran my fingers through his hair, caressing him like I used to do with my brother.


We sat there for a while until his wails softened, comforting him as he held us tight, almost as if he was afraid we were going to disappear.