War of Emperium

Meet Again

Altair opened his eyes, and what greeted him quickly was searing pain all over his body. Lightning and thunder still rolled across the night sky. His head felt like it was going to cleave apart. Then he remembered;

Lilian!

He stood up immediately, clutching his aching torso. He dashed outside and into the raging storm. Rain lashed violently against his seemingly frail body, the cold biting and tearing his skin. He looked wildly around at the darkness of Albertas streets.

"LILIAN! LILIAN!" he shrieked.

He ran blindly into the stormy night. He did not know where they went. All he knew was they took his sister and his pride with them. They got his sword.

He tripped and fell, but he continued to run under the pouring rain.
All around him Alberta was like a menacing shadow, unable to offer help or solace. Dank, ghastly buildings stared at him with gray windows, much like hollowed eyes of the dead. He ran and ran, battling against the raging storm.

He fled, exiting from Albertas gate and into the dark forests, which were at that time full of danger for anybody. The soil was soft and gave way easily under his ferocious strides, staining his shoes with thick mud.

"LILIAN! LILIAN, WHERE ARE YOU!"

Altair shouted in vain, his voice drowned by the rain.

Altair overlooked a tree root. He tripped and fell, and in the darkness his nose smashed into a rock, breaking it. Blood started to flow, sharp pain tearing at him. He struggled to stand, blinking, eyes blinded by tears and rain.

"Lilian" he sobbed.  "Lilian, I'll get you back, I'll get you back!"

Altair hated the feeling that was seizing him. It was helplessness, his most dreaded enemy. He can endure any other kind of emotion, except for this one.

Helplessness, being unable to do anything for a loved one. He remembered his mother getting beaten up by his stepfather, but he was just sitting there, watching dumbly.

Helplessness when the archbishop used his connections to get Altair expelled from the Pronteran Sanctuary and thus end his hopes of being an Acolyte.

Helplessness when a friend, Nerva, died in his arms. And now helplessness once more when his sister and his pride were taken from him.

Oftentimes he thought he was strong. But he was weak, weaker than anyone.
Altair walked blindly into the forests darkness, wiping at the blood and his tears.

He walked on for hours, all in vain. Only Porings, Willows, Fabres, Creamys and Elder Willows could see his lonely figure wandering in the woods. It was a cold night, and the storm was unforgiving.

Altair finally dropped to his knees in the middle of the dark forest. He knew he was somewhere between Alberta and Payon, but he could not tell exactly where he was. He moaned painfully as he tried to touch his broken nose.
Then a rustling came from behind him.

"Who's there?" he shouted, standing up. "Who are you?"

The sound of an unsheathing sword caught his ears. He squinted in the darkness, and felt fear stab at him from all sides.

Like a demonic specter, the Wanderer loomed from the darkness, katana in its decaying hands. The white skull and its horrendously grinning mouth gleamed under the short-lived flash of lightning across the sky.

"No, God help me" Altair muttered, eyes wide, as he retreated.  "Oh God oh God"

He took a step backward as the Wanderer advanced, ready to strike. Altair shook his head, retreating further.