Chapter 37 - Minds

He stared at the campfire, built with the bones of the dead and fueled by the fat of the monsters that had been slain.

It had been a long time, since he had felt so uncertain.

The poison was spreading further, with every moment. He didn't want to think of the end. But it was an ever present possibility, if his body could not fight it off.

Avancia would be safe in Lunston's hands, but, he was old, and old age was a poison of it's own.

Once they were both gone, who would stand in place as the face of the hold? 

Who could… wield the Macuahuitl?

Marce had a black heart, he had known this much from their childhood. She could not do it. There was too much else, that would be a problem.

Food supplies, the refugees, security and the coming era for their people.

He could not die, not yet.

Not before finding the next hands, that would raise the Chief's weapon in defense of their people.

He slowly turned his head. 

The spirits had ravaged this place a long time ago.

The faces of the Imprisoned and their silent wails were enough to send their warriors and knights in a fearing mess.

Prime for the thing here to take advantage.

But one had managed to remain sane, perhaps by fate, she had remained stalwart till now.

Though, the more he watched her, the more he felt she was strange.

Denying her feelings whilst acting as though she were feeling them. A clumsy puppet whose puppeteer was themselves.

A hero who could not use aura.

A girl who could not be honest with anyone, not even herself.

Her's was a special place in this world, a Hero, the center of an Era, born to suffer a life of purpose and sacrifice.

He knew he had been swept up into her fate. 

The campfire crackled.

He looked back down at it. At it's finite nature, built for light and warmth, it was destined to disappear once it was no longer needed.

What a fool he felt like, feeling as if he could understand it's furious dance, it's rageful performance.

Even so, he did not despise it, being a cog in the wheel that is the heroes growth, if that was what it would take, for a brighter future, for them all.

Though she was not able to be honest with herself, her goals were righteous. 

And more than anything, she kept a deep value for life, that he had seen first hand, again and again on this expedition.

She would make a great hero, in time, he believed that truly.

However…

"Do you watch for him?"

She flinched.

He shook his head.

…that man that was with her, was different.

He couldn't help but worry slightly, for the future of the continent, if he was not kept in check.

The Hero could be that person, but that was not something that he felt she could manage right now.

His, Argo's, purpose, nature and wishes, were strangely concealed, he could see his heart had kindness, that much he knew from the moment he first met him, but he also knew that every time he thought of him, that he was not seeing the whole image.

He was not at his core, like Lunston, who still valued human life. 

He could tell that he was not someone who would ever hesitate to take a life. 

Decisive, and ruthless when it came to his goals and path.

But that path, Awick could not see it, nor could he guess what it was.

Such a man, with the conviction and power to chase after their end, was dangerous no matter the era, and with him at the Heroes side, only time would tell what would become of them both.

She stared out into the vast rocky darkness, her eyes were serene, her lips parted, "He will come."

Awick had heard this, many, many times, over the last week.

She held out hope, like the sun waiting for the moon in the twilight of the world.

But Awick knew that he would not come, unless something forced him to do so. 

And there were not a great many things that such a deeply hidden heart would have, that could force it to the surface.

He didn't know if he would, or could, come, but he knew that no matter what, Lunston would arrive sooner. 

Their supplies were for some days more. 

Once they didn't return, Lunston would come down, and between the two, Awick was beyond sure that they could at least secure everyone escape, if they couldn't kill that thing.

"What gives you such faith in him?" He asked despite knowing that there would be no good answer, if any answer at all.

Her faith, he felt, was blind, the sun waiting on the moon with a foolish hope that they would ever be anything more than two people at a distance.

But, he too didn't want to disparage her hope, hero or not, it was something precious to keep especially in those dark moments when nothing was certain.

The thing that lingered in these ruins. He had never explored below before. Even after he became the Chief, and a Master, he had not come.

The teachings had always said to leave the ruins alone. That they were the last resting place of their ancestors and should not be disturbed.

But he had decided that they would not mind, if it was for the sake of the very thing they gave up their lives for, that they were coming to disturb them.

Constance peered out of the laboratories expansive insides, she was watching the dark, with slow breaths, as the waystone she had secretly taken from Argo a long time ago, burned up.

With it, one would be able to track them down. 

Lunston had his own waystone, to Awick, in case of emergency as well.

She shut her eyes.

It felt like an entire era had come and gone, from that time in the woods, she smiled, her lips parting, her words were soft, "...Have you ever spoken without words?"

Awick raised a brow.

Constance smiled, she looked ahead, as she sent those memories away, and banished the hunger inducing scent of bear belly stew from her head.

"He will come." 

Awick shook his head. 

A Heroes hope, was a burdensome thing, or perhaps it was not hope.

A maidens first love?

Maybe... maybe not.

He didn't know.

But regardless of if he came or not, there would be little he could do.

A Low-Rank Knight, alone, would not make it down here and if he did, he would be caught by the thing that had been stalking them.

The others had not noticed it, since it did not depend on strength, to be able to notice it. 

It had everything to do with presence of mind. And often times, Awick would think about his surroundings, more than about his actions, causing him to catch it in the corner of his eye.

It was similar to the spirits in that regard, but it was absolutely not a spirit.

Something was watching them.

"You aren't real." Awick turned back at the sound of her voice.

The nightmare of the Second Gate. 

A horror that could toy with the senses of people, causing them to imagine their most beloved memories. 

He did not know if it was a spirit, turned evil after so many years in this abyssal place, or if it was some sort of monstrosity that had crawled through the gates into their world.

The Second Daughter, righteous and noble, had stood against this monster, though, perhaps it was actually against one of it's ancestors, and was able to put it down. 

In order to brave it's abilities, one needed to have a powerful conviction and a resolute mind.

They had been forced to stop here and because of it, the Warriors and Knights, had been mostly taken out of commission lost to the nightmares of their own mind, caught in a maze of their happiest moments corrupted.

He had not considered, that the last resting place of his ancestors, could ever harbor such evil and it boiled his blood.

But now that he knew, he knew that it was his duty, even if it meant it being his last, to rid their tombs of this filth.

A duty he would complete, no matter the cost at himself.

His senses prickled. 

He looked over.

The Monsters of this floor had discovered them long before. 

He touched his Macuahutil.

If Awick left, it would take less than a day, but Constance could not hold out for that long against them. 

And if Constance left alone, she would die. 

The spirits outside were not aggressive, but they were not friendly either.

Whatever had happened down here back then, which had left so many trapped in the stone, had left the spirits on edge, even countless years later.

Not to mention, if one was touched by their reaching hands, they would be afflicted by a curse, which he could not identify.

It caused people to go into a comatose state. And the monsters they had encountered, were in a similar situation.

They could only wait for reinforcements.

Awick stood up, and grabbed his Macuahuitl off the stone next to where he had been sitting. 

He looked up and around, surveying the surroundings.

The old laboratory was massive, with the desktops being dozens of feet tall. He wasn't sure what they had been researching here so long ago, but, it didn't matter right now.

It was no time to be distracted.

He looked ahead, at where Constance stood.

The door of the laboratory was shattered, and the rubble made the terrain in here treacherous, leaving shadows everywhere for monsters to appear. 

"...You aren't real." He heard Constance again.

Was she starting to finally succumb to the persuasions of that creature? 

His lip curled down slightly. If he could just locate it for a single second, he could hunt it down, but it was hidden too well.

He didn't know how to hunt something, he couldn't see, hear, smell, feel, trap, bait or sense.

He stared at Constance as he approached.

He wasn't certain what she was seeing, but he knew that if she was seeing things again, that the Corrupted Abomination was lingering somewhere.

On edge, he spoke slowly, in that rumbling tone, seeking to shark the energy in the air, to help pull her out of her trappings, he put a hand on her shoulder, "Ready yourself, they will come soon." 

He turned over.

He gave himself some pause.

The creature from what the warriors and knights had said, before they could be fully consumed, and by their babbled mumbles while lost, was an illusion of their happiest memories.

He knew his own happiest moment, and so, despite seeing Argo emerging from dark, with a rough expression, he could not convince himself it was an illusion at all.

It should have been impossible, to arrive here before Lunston, or Marce… and yet…

Constance felt Awick staring at Argos figure, and she knew that he had come, before anyone, he had made it there first. 

She had a satisfied smile. 

Argo saw her look, and frowned with great ire in his gaze as he was reminded of the giant mess he had been swept into because of her.

His lips parted hatefully, as he stepped over a woman's trapped face, the words sounded like they'd been chewed on, before being spat out.

"What are you so damn happy about?"

...and yet there he stood.