7 – Walking With the Enemy

"Ah, there he is. We were just talking about you," Lunar smiled, as Gratien stepped into the chamber; most of the important members of the Fallens were present. Luminia again, sat in the midst of the chamber engrossed in her book, as Gratien stepped in, she slowly lifted her face, as her smile began to grow wider.

The chamber was permeated by the presence of Imbra, Zynphina, Declan, Gravesyn, who stood solemnly against a corner, and Lunar. Their eyes turned toward Gratien, as he was now submerged within the ambiance.

"You must be Gratien, correct?" Luminia queried. "Yes," Gratien responded. "I was told to come here."

"It seems that my assumptions were not incorrect, after all. Your eyes are quite magnificent, Gratien," Luminia smiled.

"....."

"Are you aware of the journey today?"

"Well, yes…"

A sense of expectation settled in the chamber as Gratien stood before Luminia, awaiting further instructions. She gestured towards him, her slender arm gracefully extended. "Come, it appears you are ill-prepared for the treacherous journey ahead. Your stomach may be filled, but your body will require further care," she said, retrieving a small potion from beneath the table. "Drink this."

Gratien's gaze shifted quickly toward Gravesyn, their eyes locked for a small moment before he muttered, "I'm fine, thank you."

"Oh? Then keep it for a later occasion, then."

".....thanks."

"It is of no concern. I wager it is important to divulge you the plans for the foreseeable future; the Key you possess can not be used by anyone other than you. I was told that the Amulet was once owned by the late Fourth Oracle?"

"Yes, Orlan gave it to Elsa, and so on…"

"Indeed, it might be quite possible that Orlan had put some kind of spell on the Amulet. Perhaps he wanted to be certain that the one who would claim the Key of Transcendence would be right one—the one he was foretold of."

"How did you know about his dream?"

"I am merely a manifestation of The Light, my dear… there are many questions left unanswered regarding this matter. Perhaps, the Silent One shall divulge you about my knowledge, and my connections with the Sixth Watcher."

"....."

"We will be taking a slight detour, Gratien," Imbra said. "We will be going through the city of Blightmoor, the city situated South-Western of the Seraphic Lands. Are you familiar with that area?"

"I have been there quite a few times. As far as I know, the place has been terrorized by Hostile Incarnations ever since the past few months. Given that it would be difficult to pass through, why did you choose to go through there?"

"You seem to have forgotten about who we are, Gratien. It is not that we are able to freely roam the lands of Aradon with no sense of foreboding—going past Blightmoor might be challenging, but it is our most certain route. There, the Holy Church's influence is not as prevalent as in the other cities—hence why our presence will not be as big of a problem there."

"Then, that means that we will also have to go through Lamar's forces?"

"That would be inevitable," Declan responded. "The place where your Key must be used within the Middle Mountain. Going there is only possible by passing through the Forlorn Tombs, the place where Lamar himself resides."

"Not only that, there's also the Witch Morgana, who resides right at the outskirts of Lamar's Ruins. As far as my knowledge goes, she won't be as hostile as, Lamar's siblings, Alistair and Sulvur for example. Matter of fact, she might be awaiting the true Child of Darkness as well," Lunar said.

"Correct, perhaps she might be of aid during your journeys. She is arguably is the most influenced by Lamar and his powers, but did not seem to bear his same hatred. She might have learned Lamar's true intentions; their wish of their eternal demise." Luminia responded.

"We will be going on our horses. That way we are bound to meet Incarnations of Fate. Since there will be hostile ones, chances of finding even better potions will be greater," Imbra said.

"Correcto. Declan, would you be so nice and prepare our horses?" Lunar smirked.

"Fine, but who is the kid riding with?"

"No worries," Lunar said, shifting his pupils toward Gratien. "He will be going with me."

"Alright, I got it."

…..

"I think that is all for now. We will meet at the forefront of the building. There are a few things I must take care of before we leave. Come with me, Gratien," Imbra said, as he stepped away from the chamber. Gratien felt apprehensive, his palms began to sweat—he clutched his attire as he followed Imbra's trail, leaving the others behind.

"Have you eaten already?"

"Yes…"

"I believe that one potion will not serve you well enough. I will fetch you two others."

"....."

With each step he took, Gratien's apprehension boiled even further. He could not mutter a single word but silently gaze at Imbra's towering figure—watching him walk with elegance. He knew who he was, and he know what he stood for, he also knew that his final objective walked right next to him, but it was at that moment when he realized Imbra's presence. He felt greatly little compared to the Child of Darkness, which disheartened him greatly. He lowered his gaze for the entire duration as they both walked through a certain corridor that led to a chamber filled with potions.

"How did those wounds happen, Gratien?"

"...I had them for a while."

"That does not seem to be the truth," Imbra said. He turned toward him, and abruptly lifted his attire, revealing his bare abdomen, his wound became a mix of blue and red hues. It startled Gratien, as he slapped Imbra's hand away, and turned his head to the side. "It's nothing."

"You were hurt, weren't you?"

"....."

"And you still decided to spend the night here, instead of escaping our clutches. You must bear a lot of love and devotion toward Elsa, is that not right?"

"....."

"I can see it in your eyes, Gratien. You have a strong heart. If you want your thirst to be diminished, you must be able to live through many adversaries you wish you did not have. Only then, you can be acknowledged as someone who is strong. It was never about a promise you kept with her, was it?"

"....."

"Hm," he turned back toward the door, allowing the interior of the chamber to unfold before their eyes. "You are in luck to not have been caught with an infection or the sort," Imbra said, rummaging through the myriads of potions, grabbing two of them and handing it to Gratien. "Here. Make sure to take care of your arm, too."

"Why are you helping me?" Gratien asked.

"I remember who you are, Gratien."

"....."

"How does it feel, to stand before the one who took the life of your confidant?"

"Ngh..."

Imbra walked back into the corridor, his back turned toward Gratien, who stood completely sentry, his hair cascaded over his face. "It must feel as if you have lost everything, does it not? I cannot help to ponder how you would be if you fell into a bottomless pit, where everything you once had becomes a fleeting memory," he said, gazing at Gratien's back over his shoulder. "Do not forget about your memories, boy. Your eyes are still vibrant, they should be met with corresponding qualities. If you want-"

"I hate you…" Gratien interrupted. "Die, just… die… I want you to die… just, fucking…. die..."

"...would you find happiness with tainted hands?"

"....."

"Continue to walk on this treacherous path. You shall be met with a destiny that you will not be able to accept, nor escape. There, I shall await you. But until that day comes, I will show you that the world was never symmetrical to begin with. There are things that were always meant to be. My existence is the prevailing contradiction to the purpose that first gave you hope. Be at least thankful that you have found another purpose, I wager Serpio-"

"Don't say his name, you do not deserve to say his name."

"...we will be waiting outside. Do not make it too long."

"....."

Imbra then wordlessly left Gratien abandoned. He stood alone amidst the potions chamber, submerged in his thoughts, until he turned his eyes to the potion he was holding in his hand.

He opened the bottle, and drank the contents of it. Lifting his head, his entire face now fully exposed. His expression shifted drastically, as if he were about to shed tears like no other. He was laced with melancholy, his shoulders drooped, his eyebrows slightly furrowed—as if trying to hold his inner screams inside. He drank the entire potion with no hesitation, and without a second thought, he tugged the potion away and opened the next one, spilling the fluids over his wounded arm this time, as the pain he once felt was now diminished.