The Island of Ruins

"Though I do not know your name, I trust that you are strong enough to defend yourself against any enemy soldiers, and smart enough to evade a fight that you could not win. Find as many soldiers as you can."

That was the last thing Isalda told Bastle, before zipping away toward a different location. 

Did she say that… because she knew I wouldn't be able to catch up with her? She's incredibly fast…

Bastle let out a sigh, panting. He leaned against a nearby oak tree to catch his breath.

Gather soldiers… I don't need anyone. My strength alone is enough to protect at least myself. 

And there's no way I'll avoid any fights. If I die, I die.

But I won't die.

Bastle released his palm from the tree, leaving the resting position. At every turn, he could see fires burning, smoke rising into the sky. Dead bodies littered the forest floor.

"… I hope I'll be able to find that ice general. He seems strong."

I wonder. Is Clementina still alive? Not that I care. 

Bastle trudged over piles of corpses and branches, holding his scabbard closely to his side. He maneuvered in a way that left him not out in the open.

The night was a bit humid, slightly warm. His black cloak uncomfortably clung to his neck, in a way that made him notice it at every second.

Throughout his long journey of searching for a familiar, he killed 30 foot soldiers, 2 mages, and 1 archer.

"I'm getting too used to the killing of life. Is this a side effect… something that all those who are strong feel?"

Bastle slowly pulled his place out of the archer's back.

"I fear I'll spiral into madness at this rate."

He swiped red droplets of blood off his sword, sliding it back into its sheath.

Suddenly, a voice called out to him.

"Bastle?"

It was the girl with light blue hair and calm black eyes. She wore that heavy armor that she always wore, letting the handle of her war axe lean against her shoulder.

Bastle felt himself letting out a sigh of relief inwardly.

"Clementina."

He responded without a change of emotion. Her expression was covered with the slightest bit of relief.

Behind her were two other soldiers, and another individual who wore no armor, and was blindfolded.

"I'm glad to see that you're safe," Clementina said.

"Who's the individual behind you?" Bastle pointed, beyond the three soldiers, toward the blindfolded man.

He had black hair and a medium build, taller than Clementina. The clothing that he was wearing was strange; all white clothing with sleeves that showed it wasn't his size.

Clementina looked at his fingers, then turned his head to follow the line, her eyes meeting the blindfolded man.

"I'm not fully sure. He's a death row prisoner and was likely meant to be executed here on this island. But, we found him lying by the ruins of a former stronghold," she quickly informed.

Behind her, were a male soldier and a female soldier.

The male soldier stared off into the dark night sky, his foot tapping restlessly. His hair was dark red and messy. His eyes were dull and black. He held a spear.

Besides him, was the female soldier. Her ginger hair was tied up and she wore the helmet of an archer. She stared at Bastle cautiously with green eyes.

An AHMC rifle was strapped to her back.

"These two are Vandel and Navle."

Vandel gripped his spear tightly. 

"Don't you think that hostage over there is dead weight?" Bastle asked. Clementina shook her head, a little disappointed with his question.

"That's inhumane, to leave him to die."

"Even though he's a criminal?" Bastle added.

"People get arrested falsely all the time. After the war, we can take him to the authority, or whatever."

"… Whatever. Come on. We might be the only resistance force group on this entire island."

I don't need any of you guys. But the company might be able to cure this thirst of mine.

. . 

.

The 5 of them hid inside a cave, starting a small fire out of kindling wood. Immediately, the dark inside of the cave was illuminated with warm colors.

While Clementina, Navle, and Vandel all decided to rest their body, for some reason, Bastle wanted to speak to the hostage.

"… I hope you know that I won't hesitate to kill you the second you show a sign of deceit."

"How could I betray you guys with my arms bound like this, and my vision completely cut?" the hostage replied.

His voice was young. He continued to speak.

"Just like you, I also want to live."

A question suddenly popped up inside Bastle's head.

"Why are you bound and blinded like this?"

"…"

The two of them sat across from each other in front of the burning campfire, Bastle's sword inside its scabbard, lying on the floor.

"I was on the run for killing an aristocrat in self-defense. It didn't take them long to find me, and the judge's verdict was execution. So, I was taken here to be executed, blinded, and tied up. But I guess my captors forgot about me."

"… What shall I call you by?"

"Jezoc."

"I guess for now, I'll be able to trust you. Since we both dislike Sar."

"I guess so."