Chapter 20 - Argo

Constance lowered her hands.

The last man stood up and gave his thanks.

Every person had been seen by her, in the Western Section, with injuries ranging from big to small. 

As exhausting as it had been, she found it to be incredibly rewarding. 

Laying back in her chair, she gave thanks to the Goddess, for the opportunity.

She was reminded as she wound down, of Argo's plan.

To leave the people here, and get assistance from the outside.

It was a simple enough suggestion. To travel below in the ruins of the Giant Roads, until they reached a proper civilization, and surfaced. From there, she would go to the Church, and request reinforcements.

But though she didn't know a great deal, she knew enough to know that if she did so, then, Avancia Hold would come under the scrutiny of the Church, and the nations, as it was discovered to have two Master's residing within.

The Hollow Mountains were always disparaged, and the Mountain Clans, were cloaked in a thick layer of secrecy to all but the few that lived at the foot of these giant peaks.

With a stronghold like Avancia, and the reveal of access to roads underneath the Hollow Mountains, every nation would race to get a hold of it, and lay claim.

Aside from the nations, the Adventurer's Guild, Merchant Guild, Underworld and every other force, would want a hand in the pot as well.

If she could bring them all out, then, there would be no need to bring any of the major powers back and based on Lunston's magic level, and ability to cloak the whole mountain in illusions, no one would be able to find it in these mountains either.

The best option would be to lead the masses through the mountains, be it above or below.

But, he had refused vehemently. 

He didn't believe they could do it, without sacrificing almost everyone.

She looked down the street. 

Her pupils adjusted themselves, the girl had something hidden in her clothes, like a weapon, and Argo had a neutral face, but she could tell.

He had just killed someone.

Her lips curved downwards, he passed her wordlessly, to enter the house, but she stopped him, "Who was it?" 

"Moray." Argo opened the door and entered, she whipped her head around. 

There was only a few people she had told that name to, after much deliberation, which meant, that whoever he had killed, was someone of importance in the community. 

She followed him inside, making sure to shut the door behind her and cast a noise cancellation magic.

By the time she was done, he was already sitting in the living room, and the girl was sitting on the table, looking at the dagger, but she didn't address that for now, "Who." 

"No one will miss him." Argo felt his eyelids growing heavy.

Ever since the forest, he had not slept. 

Battling day in, and day out, using Aura to exhaustion and yet staying awake, he wasn't sure, how the Hero had managed, perhaps some miracle of exhaustion, but his mind had long began to crack, the lines denoting reality from dream were blurring.

Planning, fighting, and trying to see into the future, as well as thinking of some, once-in-a-lifetime plan, to somehow save hundreds without sacrificing thousands, as well as the problem of the Invasion, had taken a greater toll than he had accounted for.

He knew that tonight would be a terrible one. When he didn't sleep it always was.

He needed to end this conversation fast, to go and find a safe place to rest, before it could begin.

He felt her burning gaze.

"The one that recognized you, I didn't get his name." 

It was coming on fast. 

When the conscious facilities of the brain, begin to turn off, the core parts of who one is, begin to show, like when someone is drunk, or extremely stressed, or enraged.

However, he had lost the ability to feel those things, at all. Or at least, be swayed by them.

Yet sleep.

Sleep had always been his one paradise. From the halls of torture beneath the capital, to the bumpy carriage ride through the mountains.

His mind was pounding like a caged animal, trying to get out.

Constance' face darkened, "His name was David Corin. Even if he had threatened you, you are a Knight. What could he have done?"

"What could he have done?" Argo leaned his head on his hand, trying to assuage the pain to no avail.

Constance felt like, she as being treated like an idiot. 

Argo just stared at her, trying to form a thought, that didn't include turning Constance completely against him by accident, but couldn't.

There was too much to say and he was not in the right state of mind to put it in a way that would allow him out of this conversation quickly.

And so he chose to say nothing at all.

Shaking his head, he stood up, and headed for the stairs. 

It was like a knife through Constance's chest.

He saw her as an idiot, and didn't even feel the need to explain things, because of it. 

That, that she would not take.

"I am not a child." 

"No, you are not," Argo reached the stairs when Constance realized something was terribly wrong with him, his face was turning pale, and his gaze was unfocused, "So stop acting like one." 

"Argo? What's wrong?" She came forward and tried to summon her holy power, but it had been exhausted, from the day of treating people. 

He gripped the railing of the stairs tightly. His other hand came up to his head, touching it slightly, his brain was pounding against his skull, like it wanted to escape, "Get away."

"Argo!" Constance was beside him now, trying to help him, she cast healing magic, but it was ineffective.

His aura manifested, as he tried to regain control over his failing mind, and to soothe the pounding, it was enough to get to his feet. 

He saw a woman at the top of the stairs, wearing a pure white dress, staring down at him from behind a fan with slitted eyes. 

"...Why are you crying? Is it not enough, the shame you've brought us all?" 

He wasn't on the stairs anymore, but in a stone room, he knew that voice, and his heart skipped a beat, he knew what was happening. 

The feelings of that time, came rushing in. He blinked back onto the stairs, and swung his arm back, Constance dodged, staring at him, as he stumbled up the stairs.

As he blinked again, he saw her look at him. Pity. 

"Look at them. They are mere servants beneath you. Yet you dare shed a tear?" The woman atop the stairs, closed the fan, revealing a great scar on her face. 

She pointed the fan down at them.

He felt small again. 

She was going to obliterate them with her magic. They would be turned to ash, and dust. They would not have a grave. 

He blinked again, and he saw the vestiges of aura, burning wildly around him, and saw Constance flying at him, with a serious look.

He felt a heavy pain wrack his head, and he was flung into a younger body, inside of that same stone room.

He reached up, and touched his face, but all he felt was the wetness of tears. He looked back, Liam and Luna were nowhere to be found.

"Remember this moment, Prince. Eight above, millions below. They are nothing. And will be remembered as nothing." 

Her gaze felt like a disaster. He couldn't control his heartbeat or his emotions. He was stuck in a memory made nightmare, he was trying to keep his ego, but it was regressing against his will.

The room was empty.

Liam had been his caretaker, and confidant, in the House of Moritorum, his paternal home, and Luna, had been his dog.

Today was the first day in the Imperial Palace. His new caretaker, the teacher of all the Imperial Children, the Empress' sister, Gwenel, had come to inspect him.

And she had found him playing with his pet, Luna, while Liam prepared tea, and that, was unacceptable for her.

He wanted to suppress his cries, but his young body couldn't handle the burden. The world around him began to fall apart. 

A leather strap came flying from the collapsing void, and tied his hand to the wall, his gaze displayed true fear, as the next one came, and his other hand became strapped.

His nose flinched at the smell. His mind couldn't calm down. He couldn't regain any composure.

He was losing his ability to tell if it was a dream or if reality had been the dream, and he was waking up now again in that dark hole.

There was no light. But the feeling of the straps on his wrists, chaffing against his flesh and making raw his skin, was still clear.

He could hear his own breath, and he could feel the freezing air on his feet especially, since they were wet with his own filth.

He recalled this memory, and struggled violently against the chains, but he was small, and never trained for this. Never, expected any of this nor wanted it.

He wanted to go home, to Moritorum. To his Father. And to that end, he struggled until his wrists bled and his teeth cracked.

His face paled.

Heavy boots, slammed against the stone corridor, it did not sound like steps, but an oncoming Monster. 

He could feel it's breath on him. He could feel it's presence, somewhere in the room with him, when it stopped.

It was here.

He struggled even more fiercely, and his hand had come loose. He went to reach for the other strap, when it brushed against something burly. 

He recalled what came next, and braced. His entire body was set on fire with pain. A knife had dug it's way into his stomach. The blade itself had been rune carved, to heal. And so, when it got pulled out, the wound disappeared as if it had never happened. 

And then it came again. And again, and again.

He screamed at the top of his lungs, crying as the snot fell from his face disgracefully, pleading for it to end, but the knife found it's way into his lungs, at a crying point, and he couldn't breath. 

He couldn't even scream, anymore. 

And so he prayed. He prayed to every god he knew. He gave them every oath he could think of, and swore every promise and pledge he could remember. 

He pleaded with the Gods, to save him...

...But no one came.

And then the knife was pulled out.

He could breathe again, and he took in a big gulp of air, only to find that someone in that exact moment, had blown something into his mouth.

His organs felt like they were melting…

...poison.

The room started collapsing again.

His head started to hurt. Something was pounding there, again.

The fire and pain in his body faded out, as a new sensation, entered him. It was chilly, but not cold.

The room had big windows, with light filling the air.

There were four desks, of which he sat at one, all alongside one another, separated by several feet of distance. 

Ahead, a blind woman stood in front of a chalk board.

One of the Sightless, employed at the Imperial Capital.

"...Following the Ruination's end, due to what is widely believed to be an influx of strength, coming from the combined power of the Five Heroes, and Humanity, Gates began to appear, leading to the Underworld. A mirror of our own, where evil souls become Monsters."

The Sightless were not meant to teach, but to tell the Imperial Descendants information, that needed to be believed.

They were not to train them how to think, only what to know.

"From that land, Monsters surged forth into the current Era. Causing plagues like Adventurers, and Mercenaries, to come to be normal... Forsaken by nature, the giants were forced to rest..."

...His head pounded.

Adventurers came about due to the demand of the common people, to be able to defend themselves, and then go out and defend others. They were saviors of the common folk, while the nobility defended the cities. 

Mercenaries were amoral, subservient to the coin of the cause that paid them the most. 

Giant's weren't forsaken by nature either... they... they...?

"How do I...?" 

...Know all of this?

The room shattered as if a massive sledgehammer had ran straight through it, and he was thrown into a library, holding a book with all of the most prominent fairy tales.

He had snuck it into the palace, with Stephan's help.

He smiled at the memory, but then flinched, as his head ached. He remembered that he wasn't here, just a moment ago.

Where was he? 

What was going on? 

He looked down at the book. 

Giants wandered the pages. His vision flickered, he saw an unfamiliar woman's face, on a bed. It was gone as soon as he saw it.

He shook his head. 

He chalked it up to being tired.

The First Princess' debut was coming, and the assassination attempts on his life, were still ongoing. 

He looked at the pages again.

There were giants, fighting off a flower, a weed.

The battle was fierce.

He flipped the pages quickly, fast enough that they started to blend in. He didn't know how he could read so fast, as if he had already read it.

The Giants were losing the fight.

One by one, they were being killed. Roots took to their flesh and turned their bodies into puppets against their own kind.

He felt like a needle had stabbed into his head. He turned quickly, only to see a girl, standing at the edge of a bed, holding his hand, he blinked and she was gone.

He shook his head hard.

Had someone slipped something to him during the mornings feeding?

He couldn't afford to be seeing things, right before his sister's debut, he had to be perfect for her, or else he would be sent back below for reeducation by Gwenel, and they wouldn't be able to see each other again for a long time.

He redoubled his efforts focusing harder on the book, to shake the fatigue away. 

Three faceless giants stood against their brothers and sisters, slaying them again and again, pushing the battle into an abyss.

A great light, appeared above that abyss, and a terrible flower was revealed, with bright red petals and a deep green stem, it's vines lashed out, and countless monsters rushed the three but were restrained by the light.

That light expanded, and he saw a stone roof, and someone saying something.

He turned to try and look away, but it only expanded further. The world around him started falling apart. The book in his hands, remained.

He tried to flip the page, but it was done.

He realized he too, was falling.

His eyelids grew heavy. 

"...s...up! ...wak-... up...!" 

It was soft.