Ch. XII - "Sticky Situation"

As the rustling of the leaves embedded on the trees that huddled closely to one another, the faint, amber-like hue of the rising sunrays piercing through canopy of the leaves landed on the grassy surface and also above the flowery patches, bringing a glow to the floating dust and butterflies that roamed in the air, landing from one flower to another.

The chirps of the nearby birds could be heard echoing throughout the area, complimenting the psithurism brought by the blowing of the gentle morning breeze that caused some of the militias in the distance to blow unto their hands before rubbing them together or store both of them inside of their pockets, slightly shuddering as they reached out for their scarfs.

In the obscurity of the forest, illuminated by the warm morning sunlight. There roamed Calestro, with his belt where a few pouches were strapped on that which was finally returned.

He leaned on a nearby tree trunk as he stared on a small clearing a few meters away, dazed while the events earlier were replaying inside of his head.

————

The rising of the dawn illuminated the back of Ignaras and Bakzeu, bringing light unto the hallway as they presented a proposal to the dumbfounded Calestro.

"You're..asking for my help right..am I following correctly..?"

"Yes." - Ignaras puffed.

"..For the upcoming...

'stampede' correct?"

"Hm." Bakzeu nodded.

"...Do I have any other choice..?"

- Calestro sighed whilst grasping his head.

"I suppose you do. The Countess specifically commanded us that; if Mister Calestro won't cooperate with you.

Throw him back to wherever you found him in.

That's what she said."

- Somehow, Ignaras'es remark towards the young man, especially the part where the Countess was mentioned had Bakzeu turning his head towards him with an eyebrow raised accompanied by a slightly appalled expression.

"wait.. did the countess even say that?"

— Bakzeu thought, before shaking his head and dismissing the notion.

"So what would it be,

Calestro An Sletzch?"

- Ignaras squinted his eyes as he looked down with a chin up on the wide-eyed Calestro, who diverted his gaze as sweat began to slide off his cheek.

"..I..."

————

"...I didn't really have that much of a choice per se.." - Calestro sighed, mumbling to himself.

"..I was just a humble waiter at an eatery a few days ago and now.. I'm fighting a literal war against things I have never even encountered before... This sucks ass.."

Calestro scoffed, tilting his head upwards to gaze at the clouds that resembled a snail in speed, scattered throughout the still, barely-illuminated star filled blanket called sky.

"Why did I even set out anyway..?"

— Abruptly, a scene flashed inside of his mind depicting himself inside of the faintly illuminated, yet cozy atmosphere of the eatery with Haustor standing solemnly beyond the counter, passing him a letter with the insignia of the Imperial Capital.

"I wanted to become a Skylunker damn it.! So why the hell am I stranded here for god's sakes..!"

Calestro unleashed a small smash on the tree trunk behind him as he silently yelled out, teeth gritting and eyebrows furrowed.

"God...Have mercy on me.."

- Calestro whined, tears streaming out from his eyelids.

————

In a faraway land, situated near a flowing, crystalline river rid of any impurities there stood a walled kingdom painted entirely in white that had not a single patch of visible wear.

Amongst the walls of this guarded nation, was a tower where an individual cloaked in a white and blue robe stared outside of the window and unto the horizon where the azure-coloured ocean met the lushness of the land.

*Flap* *Flap* *Flap*

"..?"

- Hearing the wings of an organism becoming louder and louder, he tilted his obscured face upwards and saw a bird-like creature,

"..."

As it landed, it bared the shape of a bird and the wings of a bird but with none of the feathers nor any features that marked it as one. The only defining characteristic of this organism was that it was colourated entirely in a deep-purple hue.

It's claws gripped the gloved fingers of the cloaked individual as it's imitation of a beak opened, letting a small scroll out of its stomach and unto the frame of the window below the face of the enigmatic man. He lowered his gaze to examine the scroll which had a similarly-coloured tie strapped unto it.

The cloaked individual paused before picking up the small scroll and pulling the tie, unfurling the scroll's contents with an air of silence.

What greeted him was.. an empty parchment. The cloaked man paused for a brief moment before in a hoarse voice he muttered;

"Zapranuzmasil'Kurapta.."

Then, did the purple-coloured letters did appear one by one, as if writing themselves on the parchment at that very moment.

[AN INTERESTING VARIABLE HAS APPEARED. REQUESTING IT TO BE DEPLOYED.]

The mysterious man analyzed the contents of the letter before pausing and turning around, facing the silhouette of a man in a suit, facial features obscured as he stood, hands behind his back and with a posture straightened up.

"Isnh'dunskef..sulgarikugza."

Then, in a harrowing voice which resembled that of a man's intonation? no, the cry of a toddler? neither.. was it the imitation of a woman's scream? The voice echoed throughout the room emanating from somewhere and everywhere at the same time, resonating as if it is being spoken not by one, but of many different individuals resulting in a cacophony of voices that molested the eardrums of whoever was sane enough to hear it.

"Hm.."

- The man in the suit scoffed. In contrast to the sound that came from the cloaked.. thing, his was more human-like.

"..I suppose I shall then.. My Lord."

————

Back at the encampment; The lass, which was Sophia Aosomus II, stood motionlessly beside the militias as they observed a couple of relatively-young looking recruits sloppily stabbing, slashing and shooting a bunch of hay bales with targets strapped unto them.

Upon seeing such a performance, the militia which had a freshly-trimmed beard on his chin heaved a sigh and raised up his hand before opening his mouth.

"Put more effort into it!"

"..Yes Sir!" - A collective of voices yelled out in agreement.

"..The recruits seem to be.." - The countess spoke, though faint the authority was still laced on her intonation.

Hearing the countess'es remarks, the militia beside glanced at her and released a small scoff.

"It is that bad huh? Countess?" - He said, gazing at the efforts of the new recruits with unimpressed eyes.

"..I wouldn't say bad, more of.. it is lacking."

"You think so too? Miss Countess? Everyone here thinks this method of training is sloppy." - He shrugged whilst shaking his head.

"..Who implemented such a method anyway?" - The countess asked as she looked up beside her, locking eyes with the militia to which responded by diverting his eyes and momentarily pausing before surrendering into an eye roll.

"Sanum Bal Osidal."

- The militia shrugged, making the Countess'es eyes go wide.

"..eh.!?"

- Sophia exclaimed inside of her head, recalling the instances where Sanum Bal Osidal displayed a grandiose performance in regards to martial strength in front of a few individuals in extravagant outfits. She squinted her eyes as she watched, while the adults beside her had expressions consisting of sparkling eyes and hanging jaws, some were even lightly clapping for the man as he bowed after the performance.

"..That's..I knew it..!"

Sophia's face contorted as she formed a subtle sneer, fists clenching into a complete grab with a few drops of liquid being secreted from her eyelids.

"You shouldn't speak to a fellow royalty like that, Sophia."

"Why do you always look for flaws in a individual? That behaviour would cost you so much someday."

"Always seeing mistakes and fraudulent acts? This might be a reflection on who you truly are."

"Learn to appreciate things Sophia, you're always focusing on what could be instead of what is."

*clank* *clank* *clank*

Voices of resonant intonation echoed through Sophia's mind like a whirlwind of needles prickling her skull, causing an ache which have not affected her brain but rather her heart causing it to permit the secretion of a few faint liquid droplets to fall from her eyelids.

*Clank* *Clank* *Clank*

Taking notice of the situation, the militia beside her glanced over and leaned in slightly.

"..Are you perhaps ill.. Miss Countess..?"

Sophia raised a hand towards the militia, palm facing him as she used her other arm's sleeve to wipe away any remaining tears that materialized on her face.

"I..I'm fine. It is something to not be concerned about."

- She uttered.

"Apologies.."

"I must..do something..!"

"Bring me San—"

"Miss Countess."

— Suddenly, a guttural voice emanated from behind causing Sophia to abruptly halt her utterance and look behind, only to see a trio of militias kneeling before her.

"..Lord Osidal wishes to converse with you."

Sophia squinted her eyes.

"..speak of the..devil."

"..I shall go..Please excuse me."

- Sophia slightly bowed at the militia beside her before going towards the trio, whom all stood up and began to escort the countess towards the largest tent situated at the center of the encampment.

"Something's..very wrong here...!"

————

The air is heavy. Inside of the red, white-striped tent that resembles a small structure in itself. At the center was a circular wooden, counter-like table shaped similarly to a rectangle, at the right of the circular table there sat three distinct individuals.

Foryan, who rested her chin atop her knuckle as she stared off through the opening of the tent and unto the distance.

Ignaras, who sat upright with eyes closed, arms crossed and chest puffed out.

Bakzeu, who remained still in a slouched position, eyes darting from the ground and towards the individual who sat at the opposite side as them.

At the left of the circular, bar-like table there sat Sanum Bal Osidal I, resting both elbows on it as he intertwined his fingers while sustaining a piercing stare at the three, making the defeaning silence even louder than before.

After a few more moments of stillness

"Do you three remember what I told you?"

Sanum Inquired, "..." - which was met with a sustain of the quietness.

As the three remained focused on their idle activities, a vein pulsated on the wrinkly forehead of Sanum before he gritted his teeth,

*Thump!*

and slammed a fist down on the table, causing it to slightly tremble.

"Don't make me repeat myself!"

"Indeed."

"Yes Sire."

"Yes."

As their responses entered his ears, the pulsating vein on his forehead eventually subsided as he released a scoff followed shortly by a heavy sigh.

"Good. Don't make this any more harder for me, alright?" - Sanum shrugged, dismissively waving his hand. "I've got enough on my plate already."

Hearing Sanum's response, Foryan let out a barely-audible cackle as she finally diverted her eyes from the azure-blue skies and unto the noble, a soft smile present on her lips.

*Fwish*

"Excuse me.."

— Just then, the small stature of a young individual stroded into the room escorted by a trio of armoured guardsmen, her posture was straight yet her subtle slouches remained elegant, her outfit signalled that of a commoner living amongst the peasants yet her presence failed to paint such a picture, how could an individual, even more so a child hold so much authority that it transfers literally on how she walked and even breathed? Well it's because she is,

"Miss Countess." - Ignaras coughed before bowing firstly, Foryan following shortly as if it was a real pain in the ass but she needed to do so anyway, and lastly was a startled Bakzeu who lowered his torso a few times, sweat proliferating on his forehead.

Sanum's expression went from a stern old-man, to a sparkling little child that was eager to please its guardians.

"Countess! Please take a seat beside me..!" - Sanum clasped his hands while a wide grin was present on his lips.

".." - Sophia took a glance at Sanum before lowering her head and proceeding. "I thank you, Sir Osidal."

- Sophia solemnly remarked, before she stepped over and plopped herself on the chair beside the circular table, but..

"..Erm, do you have a higher one..?"

- Sophia raised her slender arm, face obscured by the height of the table of which only permitted her hair to be seen.

...

"My Apologies." - Sophia let out a quick cough before opening her eyes and gazing at the attendees, even towards the few guardsmen standing outside, her chair was formerly the formal version, but now it has been enhanced in height with a spare box that was found in a gutter, making her effectively taller than the actual table thus putting her stature at full display.

"Ehem...I take it that it is not impossible for us to congregate..with this?" - Sophia with half-squinted eyes inquired, the faint pinkish colouration on her cheeks betraying the solemnity in her voice.

The three, whom were bit dumbfounded could only nod in response.

"It would not be a problem at all!" - Sanum looked at up her, grin still not dissipating.

"..I..I see.." - She coughed, blush now disintegrating. "...?"

Due to her high seat height, Sophia's eyes catched a glance on an empty chair beside Ignaras.

"I take it that there are four Commanders right? Why is there only three that are present?"

Hearing Sophia's remark, Sanum silently clicked his tongue.

"I will be notifying the militias to fetch him at this instant."

Ignaras glanced over to his side, an eyebrow raised. At his right, there was Bakzeu and Foryan, who had varying levels of surprise.

"Where could he be..?"

————

As Calestro treaded through the grassy paths of the forest, he found himself absorbed by his own thoughts and daydreams depicting a distant nation of wealth, power and prestige.

Seeing the nation dissipate from his mind slowly, he couldn't help but release soft sigh.

"What a pain.."

"Should I just run away..?"

"I mean.. I wasn't supposed to be here anyway.."

Calestro stood up, eyes gazing on the neverending horizon of trees.

"None could probably locate me there..but.."

Calestro gazed unto his palm, before tightly clenching it.

"I can't, for some reason.. it feels so wrong."

He then shook his head and began to walk back.

"I don't want to go—!!!!!

*SHING...*

*SLASH!!!*

*BOOOOM!*

In less than a split second, the sound of a finely-sharpened blade resonated throughout the air before shortly following up with a slash, narrowly missing Calestro's neck as he tilted his head backwards, teeth gritted, cheek bleeding.

The sword slammed down on the ground, causing a small explosion that hurled dirt unto the atmosphere causing him to hover both arms above his eyes as to cover them from all of it.

As Calestro's instincts protested once more, he found himself leaping a few steps backwards before laying his eyes on the thick, brown smoke caused by the explosion.

"..What the hell...!?"

Calestro exclaimed, blood and sweat dripping from his cheek.

————

"..umm..Miss Foryan?"

- Back at the encampment, Yenna, the armoured girl looked inside the large tent with a cautious expression.

"..Sir Hamilvan was not at his tent.."

- Foryan blinked. "..Huh?"

Ignaras released a soft sigh.

"My men are reporting that the grounds are empty."

"Yes.. the Militias situated at the gates said he wasn't at the walls either."

Bakzeu whined.

Foryan lowered his gaze, thinking.

After a few seconds of silence, she sprung up, adrenaline surging through her veins.

"..This.. this is bad..!"

Ignaras nonchalantly scoffed.

"What..? What's bad?"

————

"You really had the audacity to flee.."

- Then, amidst the brown smoke there emanated a piercing voice that constituted of anger, coldness and something ineffably primal.

*WHISH!*

With a single swing of his blade, the smoke dissipated before a sudden burst of wind surged throughout the forest.

"..Tsk..!"

- Causing Calestro to drive his hand on the grassy patch, anchoring himself on the ground.

"Guess I will have to do it myself.

I will begin by breaking every single bone in your Body."

[First Division Commander]

[Hamilvan.]

(ENRAGED)

————