Chapter 10: A city of Truth

Xerxes tried to grasp what this man called Aemon was getting at, so he began barking questions. "What do you mean when you ask how deep? Why did I venture here? I told you—I don't know where I am! I'm tired, and I'm hurt. I need to get back home."

The girl spoke, her voice a tad too squeaky for Xerxes' liking. "Grandpa, I think he'll be too scared if you tell him now. We need to take him back to the city!"

"Quite the wise observation, Leiya," Aemon applauded, rubbing her hair. However, he continued his sentence while looking down upon Xerxes, his eyes glowing slightly. "The decision, however, rests with the man. The truth of what is happening will be in his hands."

The elder man crouched down beside Xerxes, with Leiya standing close by, extremely curious about the boy. Xerxes' breath was heavy as he asked, "You lot have a city here?"

Leiya immediately hopped like a spring and smiled as she giggled. "Yes! It's named after Grandpa Aemon—the City of Truth—and we're in the Fallen Kingdom."

If Xerxes had thought he was dreaming before, he was certain of it now. The Fallen Kingdom? Did that obnoxious brat really just say that I was in the Fallen Kingdom? He tried to convince himself that this couldn't be real, that his mind was merely playing tricks on him. This elderly man had just told him he was deep within this place, and these people were acting as if it were normal!

Xerxes looked around, feeling as though everything was moving in slow motion. Unwarranted thoughts of fear and death swarmed his mind. He laughed nervously, his eyes slowly rolling back as he muttered maniacally, "It's like that voice I was hearing earlier, isn't it? This is what it wants from me, right? This place wants to break me. You're not real! YOU'RE BOTH NOT REAL!" Xerxes exclaimed, gathering more mana.

Tendrils of flame began to coil around his arm, and with a swift slash upward, he aimed for Leiya. With his other hand, he held onto the egg dearly, unable to let go for some unknown reason. Her eyes caught the sloppy movement of his flaming hand, and she easily dodged. Her expertise and physical condition far outshone Xerxes' by miles.

Xerxes coughed up blood from the overuse of mana. He wiped his mouth, but despite his show of 'strength,' he wasn't in any condition to fight. His body swayed left and right like a drunkard, his vision blurred, and his throat slowly began to close up. He barely heard Leiya's frustrated voice through the ringing in his ears as she shouted at him.

"What's your deal, outsider? We're only trying to help!" Xerxes threw a jab followed by a cross, which Leiya parried before countering with a ball of water mana. The water extinguished the flames on his arm, and a swift leg kick buckled his knees, sending him to the floor.

"Leiya, my dear, the outsider has suffered severe injuries. Do not worsen them further. Conrad and your mother will need to see him. Night is approaching, and we need to enter the barrier," Aemon lectured, ensuring his tone calmed the little girl without diminishing the seriousness of the situation.

"You hear that, outsider? We can play later, but you're seriously pissing me off. So stand down!" She huffed, pointing a finger at Xerxes, who was acting purely on delusion.

Xerxes tried to rise, but any ounce of strength, will, or instinct failed him as he collapsed with a thud, the egg rolling towards him. Aemon quickly grabbed his body, commanding his granddaughter to hold onto the egg. Neither of them wasted any time; they grabbed Xerxes and left the cave, running towards the city while navigating through beasts and treacherous terrain.

A few days had passed.

Xerxes awoke in a medical room unlike anything he had ever seen. White quartz tiles lined the floors, ceilings, and walls. A relieving sense of mana permeated the air, scented with flowers. A small window revealed the world outside.

Outside, an entire village sprawled below. It seemed he was at a high point overlooking the settlement. The people below were human—normal humans. Small market stands, town halls, and farms stretched across the city, everything functioning as one would expect. Most importantly, there was no fear on anyone's faces.

Xerxes looked down at his hand—the hand that had been severed. The skin was darker, as if another person's arm had been stitched onto his body. He hadn't had the chance to process what had happened earlier, but his initial shock had slowly faded. Yet, the sorrow remained, undiminished.

As he reflected on how insane he had become and the situation he was in, the door opened. Aemon walked in, a cane in hand. Leiya followed closely but stopped at the doorway, peeking in as if trying to avoid being seen or sensed by Xerxes.

Aemon arrived at Xerxes' bedside and placed his cane on the right. Xerxes' expression turned solemn as he looked up and spoke apologetically. "I'm sorry for trying to hit you and your granddaughter back there, old man. I wasn't in the right headspace."

Aemon crossed his right leg over his left, clasping his fingertips together, and chuckled. "Of course, you weren't, boy. My strength is enough to deter the monsters away from this city. What makes you think you're more imposing than them?"

Xerxes nodded weakly, ignoring the sarcasm. "Is it true? Am I... am I going to be trapped in the Fallen Kingdom? Am I ever going to be able to go home?"

Aemon exhaled, his expression turning grim. "You know, it's not in me to lie. My name is Aemon Truth—I don't tell lies. So, boy, you want an answer, but are you ready to accept it, even if what I tell you is 100% certain?"

Xerxes looked at Aemon, his furrowed brow accentuating his wrinkles, each one a testament to experience and power. Xerxes muttered sheepishly, "Yeah."

Aemon leaned closer. "No, Xerxes Draedon. There is no way for you to return to the Layne Kingdom. You will be trapped in the Fallen Kingdom for the rest of your life."

Xerxes had expected this answer, but he had clung to the smallest sliver of hope that Aemon would say otherwise. He looked at his scarred hands, his bruised arms. His eyes began to water. Resting his forearms on his knees, he covered his face.

"I wasn't strong enough, old man. I wasn't smart enough or brave enough to say no to this stupid mission. Now I'm stuck here." His voice fell to a whisper. "I sacrificed my life for Aya. I told her to run, but I remember how she looked." Flashbacks of her terrified face made his stomach churn. "Oh God, no. I—I don't even know if she's still alive. And I'm here, unable to do anything. Mum is probably wondering what happened to us. Dorian is all alone. I've left them all because I was too cocky, too stupid. I ended up getting myself killed. And now I'm here. It can't be possible, can it?"

Aemon placed a hand on Xerxes' shoulder and spoke softly. "You didn't allow me to finish, Xerxes..." his sobbing was cut short as Xerxes looked up with red puffy eyes, his expression curious as to what it could be.

In The Fallen Kingdom, the army has categorised the land into distinct 'regions.' You remember me mentioning, 'why you ventured this deep'? Well, now I have a better understanding that you didn't voluntarily decide to come this far—you're in what the army classifies as the Second Region.

Xerxes himself had never given much thought to 'regions,' so this was an entirely new concept to him. Rather than questioning Aemon, he simply listened.

"We have the Primary Region, otherwise known in the runic language as 'Troden.' Beyond that is the Secondary Region—the vastest and deepest region humans have discovered—dubbed 'Qiblos.' Lastly, there is the most dangerous and reckless of them all: the Tertiary Region, known to both humans and beasts as 'Euthymia.' Fortunately, we are in Qiblos, a region that can be conquered from the top down."

Xerxes pondered Aemon's words, trying to grasp their significance.

"What I'm saying, Xerxes, is that I can train you. I can make you strong enough to get home. If we were in Euthymia, I would consider any hope of escape impossible. But because we are here—and because I have done it before—I can confidently say that if you become strong enough, you will return home."

Xerxes was in awe. If all he needed to do was train, he knew he could do it. His commitment to returning home was unwavering. If the choice was between reuniting with his loved ones or facing an onslaught of beasts, he would gladly fight.

"I know it sounds presumptuous, but if you have done it before, why can't you do it now? And what do you mean by 'you humans'?" Xerxes asked.

Aemon leaned back in his chair, releasing a sigh. "Because then, who would be here to protect them? Xerxes, look out the window and tell me what you see."

Xerxes peered through the glass. He saw the same view as before—the town, the markets, the people. Everything appeared normal. But he was sure Aemon was testing him, so he looked more closely. His gaze fixed on the city's edge, where a dense wall of trees formed a perfect circle around it. A faint, light-blue hue covered the entire city.

Confidently, Xerxes said, "There's some sort of mana barrier around the city, isn't there?"

Aemon, surprised at his deduction, stammered, "Y-Yes. It is a mana barrier stretching roughly twenty miles in circumference. This barrier is maintained by every resident of the city. Every day, they contribute magic equivalent to that of one hundred Tier 3 mages, forming the foundation of my power. More than that, people smile here because I protect them. I am kind of what they view as their king. And the girl you tried to strike earlier? She is a future princess. Honestly, Xerxes, we should be taking your head for that."

Xerxes' hair bristled like a frightened cat, but he relaxed when Aemon chuckled, revealing his jest.

Nervously, Xerxes asked, "Wait… if that many mages are needed just to sustain your magic, then… just how strong are you, old man?"

Aemon grinned down at him. "You ask such a question when I am far past my prime, you rascal. But if you want the truth, I'll tell you, I am a Tier 1 mage in water magic, Tier 2 in fire magic, and Tier 4 in wind magic."

Xerxes gasped as Aemon released a mere fraction of his power, sending a sensation through him like invisible hands constricting his body. Then, just as quickly, Aemon suppressed it again, smirking.

"I can't believe it… You're Tier 1," Xerxes stammered, struggling to process the revelation. Not only that, but Aemon could also wield Tier 2 fire magic? What kind of person was he? "Please, tell me—what are you? Why have you stayed here when you could live freely in the outside world? You don't have to worry about monsters—you could go anywhere!"

Aemon stood, his voice firm. "Those are answers you'll earn as your strength grows. You will need to reach at least half of my level before you can even consider leaving. I will ensure you get there if I train you constantly. So, Xerxes, do not be in such a rush for answers. Remember what happened last time you chased your dreams too hastily."

Then, as if to add one final blow to Xerxes' wavering understanding, Aemon said something that caught him completely off guard: "Your body has only just begun to recover. Your Orc soul shard is developing quite well—I look forward to seeing its progress when I train you."

He mused over this while walking away.

Xerxes called after him, "How? How do you know all these things? How do you know so much about magic… about me?"

Aemon halted, tilting his head just enough for his eye to be seen. "I told you Xerxes, I know the truth. That's something I will reveal when you have grown. Call it a mix of experience and being dealt a good hand."

A faint pattern illuminated within Aemon's eye—similar to what Xerxes had seen in himself upon first awakening in this place. As Aemon left, Xerxes clenched his fists and nodded resolutely.

"I promise everyone—I'll return home. I'll grow strong enough, and I'll bring back answers. Why there are humans here, why this happened to me, and what I can do to help humanity."

A newfound confidence surged within him. He refused to let it slip away—he was afraid of what he might become if he did. He was struggling, that much was obvious. But if training and the pursuit of home could distract him from his anguish, then he would commit to it wholeheartedly.

"Are you seriously going to keep talking to yourself like a madman, outsider?" a voice called, mocking him slightly.

Xerxes flinched before turning towards the voice's source.

It was Leiya Truth—the girl who had accompanied Aemon and found him. She held the egg Xerxes had clung to for comfort and walked towards him, plopping it onto his bed.

"Grandpa told me to give you this when you woke up. So, here it is," she said firmly. They both looked at the softly glowing egg.

Guilt gnawed at Xerxes for attacking her earlier, despite her lack of hostility. He didn't want her to feel uneasy around him, so he apologised again. "Sorry—your name was Leiya, right? I apologise for striking you earlier."

"Psh, it wasn't a big deal, outsider. But you were pushing us away when we were helping you. Not cool at all," she pouted, tinged with mild irritation.

Xerxes smiled wryly. "I apologise again. Also can I ask—why do you call me 'outsider'?"

Leiya looked at him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Because you don't belong here. You come from a world without magic beasts lurking around every corner, with purple portals that send you across continents. A world with buildings that pierce the sky. That isn't something I have ever seen, and I probably never will. That's why you're an outsider. Oh, and we don't cry when we see magic beasts."

Xerxes was puzzled by her words, wanted to investigate further. "You mean you've never been outside this city? And you're not scared of the beasts? They almost—well, they did—kill me."

She smiled, thinking of her family and home. "No I've never been out of the city. I am happy here we have great townspeople, I have an amazing family and my life is great and why would I be scared? The beasts here are easy to defeat. Only a few are truly strong and the strong ones can easily get taken out by daddy and Grandpa Aemon."

"You mean you can take them out easily?!" Xerxes exclaimed, unsure if she was serious.

"Don't call me a liar! Lying is bad! Do you lie about brushing your teeth every day, hmm?!" she shot back, glaring at him insinuating as if it was clock work.

Then, her expression brightened. "Ooo, I have a great idea! If you tell me more about the outside world, I'll stop calling you an outsider and forgive you for doubting me! Deal?"

Xerxes smiled and began telling her about the world beyond. They spoke for almost an hour, their initial bitterness shifting into something more amicable. As Leiya noticed something peculiar—the egg on Xerxes' bed began to shake.