Chapter 55 - Just a little trick~

His head hung powerlessly, he had never been so grateful for anything in his entire life.

He cried.

They had... survived...

He held his face in his hands, his shoulders shook, Constance stood weakly beside him, looking over those vast green mountains, and their cold peaks.

...Cry?

"...Boat. There's a boat! Get up! Come on! There's a boat!" An arm reached under his shoulder.

He started laughing, holding his face tighter. 

Since when did he relearn how to cry?

His ears twitched, as the smile hidden behind his hands hid itself. It was too soon to be sure.

There was a familiar faraway whistling.

A melody that soothed the heart.

He gripped his face one last time, and then, dropped his hands. There were no more tears. 

His expression was dark.

Constance didn't look back, Argo grabbed the girl up into his arms, and glanced at her, she was looking down at the boat.

Dragged along they started to descend down the mountain side.

The trees were thin, and not too big, perhaps a few meters in height, with many vibrant branches, and grass as green as a painting.

The warm air flowed through his lungs and reached every corner of his body, breaking over his flesh like a healing breeze, though only for his spirit.

His expression softened.

The clouds were thin, flying slow overhead, as they reached the bottom of the mountain towards the evening.

...How irritating.

It was quiet, as he was dragged along by Constance.

Even after all this time, and all of this struggle, had it still not ended? 

Her grip around his wrist was strong, and her steps were quick. He went along, observing it all quietly as it went.

He couldn't even muster up any anger, or rage.

He glanced down at the girl, she was looking forward still.

He was simply tired.

His heart felt like it had a hole straight through it.

Was this it? 

"Stephan? It's Stephan!" Constance looked back at him with an excited look, and his eyebrows rose ever so slightly, "Come on! Hurry up!" 

He covered his mouth with his hand. He couldn't help but start laughing, though mirthlessly.

Had she ever met Stephan before? 

No. No she had not. He had hidden from her purposefully all that time.

Stephan stood ahead, with a dozen faceless agents on either side of him, and more ships in the sea outside of the coast.

Argo merely continued to observe the circus play out.

"Lord! We've been searching for you for months! Your injured.. come quick! We have the healer here!" Stephan had a relieved expression as he was quickly approaching.

Indeed, there was a woman of quite high esteem there, to call her something as straight forward as a healer was an insult to her prestige.

The Bishop Melavandra, a woman in line to become an Arch-Bishop with the possibility of ascending to the Papacy one day in the Spire. 

She'd been brought... by Stephan? 

Argo's stopped in his tracks.

His soundless laughter started to leak out, as he lost some control, manifesting in a low chuckle.

He would have expected a creature of so many years to be a little smarter than that?

"So long in the dark can cloud the mind," He whispered, and glanced down at the girl, "Isn't that right?"

He didn't care anymore.

She was looking up at him, at last. Her big round eyes turned a little. Her head tilting. He rubbed her head, and set her down.

He was done being caged up in the illusions and manipulations. And such poor ones at that. How many had he broken already?

She grabbed his pant leg, and pulled on it. 

How dare it try to chain up his mind...?

Whistling.

His jaw tightened.

It was close.

His eyes turned.

So very close.

He couldn't place it.

"Master! What are you waiting for?" Stephan had rushed over, with the first aid supplies on him, reaching for him.

A flower born in the shadow of the giants who were known perfectionists in their craft...

He looked down at Stephan, gauging his wounds, and spoke slowly, "What are the casualties?" 

...If it would not come out by name, then there was a far simpler method of calling upon it.

Stephan's brows furrowed, he looked up, "Casualties?" 

He grinned coldly.

"What a lax creation." His caught a leaf on the palm of his hand.

Stephan raised his head, "Master? What do you mean?" 

Was it curious?

Argo looked behind Stephan, at where the ship was, at where the Bishop was with Constance talking, at where the faceless agents of the Lotus were waiting.

"Is this what the Giant's consider masterful?" He crushed the leaf in hand, and let it fall the rest of the way, though it was slow.

The whistling... he heard it behind him.

"Master?"

His body started to heat up.

Was it angry? He couldn't help but chuckle, turning his head to the side.

Stephan's eyes were distorted, like a pair of ravines.

He turned his head, Stephan's head tilted, he was saying something, but his voice wasn't coming from his mouth, it was behind him as those inky eyes peered at him crazily, "What do you mean?"

"You should be ashamed." His lips curved slightly, he felt truly joyful for the first time in weeks, since arriving at this place.

His skin started crawled not a moment later. 

All their heads had turned to stare at him. Their eye sockets were empty. Their bodies... lifeless.

Had it at last, had enough?

He had not had enough, though.

A childish voice came from below.

"Was it the trees?" 

He didn't look down, but at the woodlands, "A weak imitation."

The trees became withered in an instant at his words, as if to fix them according to his memory.

"Or was it the grass?"

"Just the grass?" He cackled as the grass was sucked dry of any moisture.

That ancient thing... the trees shook violently. A storm appeared to be approaching.

"I'd like to leave this place. Would you let us, if I told you?" He turned his head, but in the place of the voice, was nothing but the girl, looking up at him, though her mouth didn't move.

A little hand grabbed his pant leg, pulling it once.

It was playing the part of the girl quite well, but the demeanor was completely false.

He bent down without looking, and picked it up.

It could not impersonate her perfectly, nor could it impersonate Stephan well, nor Constance.

It leaned right into his ear, and whispered, "No." 

He slightly smiled.

Argo began to walk forward, he walked towards the whistling, "Why?" 

Everyone seemed quite normal, until they arrived at the Third Gate.

She leaned back in his arms comfortably, and spoke slow, in a higher pitched childish tone mimicking him, "Why?" 

Was it then, that the switch happened, while they were all disoriented from escaping the Terrarium?

"Why do you want to leave?" She held her arms around his neck, he could feel it's breath on his face, sickeningly close.

Would it even need to wait for such a moment, to do so?

The whistling had changed.

The explosion... He slowly pieced it together.

It was not a simple whistling anymore.

A spark ran through the depths of his cruel obsidian gaze.

It was injured.

"You can live your perfect life here. No more pain," His skinned back, the wounds and bruises on his bones, the difficulty of breathing, all of it, gone in as simple as a flick of it's wrist, its eyes had a certain charm as it's lips moved one last time enunciating every word, "No more fear." 

Was it because it had read his memories, that he was seeing this?

His sister, Sophia, stood before him, in her royal attire. A beauty that could bring nations to heel, and make righteous men desecrate their legacies, for a taste.

But it's reading of his memories was clearly incomplete.

Her head rolled to his feet.

An amateur at manipulating the hearts of people.

His aunt. With a big nose, and eyes like that of a mouse, she stood there with her arms crossed, screaming something fierce, only for her face to twist in agony forevermore.

Only good at creating scenes, and even that, appeared mediocre, it's consciousness must have been spread thin.

His little sister, Margaret, hung from a tree. Her big round head inflated as if about to pop from her bodies weight against gravity.

...Though, he had to admit, it made quite the convincing arguments.

His steps slowed.

It was a woman.

His eyes slightly narrowed.

A single long scar creased her face, deforming her mouth, she watched him from the end of woods, with eyes that could only be called disappointed.

Was she angry that he was being walked over, or perhaps that the prestige of Karlan was being mocked, by a 'mere flower'.

He walked right past her.

Though he was certain of one thing, after seeing that last illusion.

It was a clearing.

The flower could only recreate what it had seen, and not create new illusions of it's own, save for at a limited variety, but it was poor.

A cottage.

Like an amateur tracing over a master's piece, and calling it their own.

A childs laugh.

A womans voice.

He could only observe, and take it all in, closing his eyes to it.

"You could live the life you've always wanted." That childish voice tried swindling it's way into his ear...

...But alas, all he could hear was that familiar melodic whistle.

He stopped in his tracks there at the edge of the scene to take it all in.

A man sat on the porch, watching the lake, whistling an old little tune.

It would not last.

"Dad!" A faceless child came out, and the man turned over for a second, with a great smile across his face, as he swooped the little one into his arms, "I love you!" 

The dream of a naive little boy was playing out, he couldn't help but smile a little.

The faceless woman came out, with a pie in hand, putting it on the windowsill, she smiled at them, her eyes as soft as a field of flowers, and filled with as much love as their petals.

It was a fond dream, that had carried his soul through places that angels would not dare walk.

They shared a kiss.

A cherished dream.

"Honey..." 

But it was just the dream of a naive child.

It was turning red.

His eyes slowly opened.

"Why do you hesitate? You've always wanted this. It's yours, if only you reach out and take it." That childish voice drew him back, "Tell me what I wish to know and it will all be yours."

He merely continued to look ahead.

It turned over to see what it had been ignored over.

A scream.

It reached out, but... it failed...?

It frowned slightly, and the scene tried to distort, but like rubber being pulled apart, it rebounded back together with equal strength.

It was dark. 

Argo shook his head slightly, "Spark."

A spark seen through a window, caught on a curtain.

"Screams." He turned his sight over to the lake, where a boat was, a man sat on it, fishing.

Screams.

The man turned, and started rowing to shore, but the waves pulled him away for as hard as he rowed.

A childs screams, cracking apart as it continued to wail, he spoke the words it screamed, ""Dad! Dad! DAAAD! HELP MEEE!""

""Honey... please...! Honey, where are you! Honey! Honey..-!"" A woman's desperate shouts, breaking apart as wood snapped and fell mimicked by a deadpan tone.

It was almost funny, watching this ancient creature use this, of all things, to try and sway him.

The cottage burned and those blood curdling wails softened away to nothingness.

""No... no... NO!"" The man ripped at the house.

It was still trying to distort the scene, to change it to something of it's liking, but for as happy as it tried to make it, the rebound would be several times more horrific in response.

It was a future set in the very heart of the soul of the person.

"Thank you for trying," Argo turned to look down at the ancient being in his arms, as the man tore at the house trying to dig them out, "But isn't this enough?"

It turned back to him.

It had not eyes, but he could feel it's confusion.

"...It is simply not my future to have. That is all."

It's face slowly fell to a neutral state, the childish characteristics disappeared like a mirage as well, it spoke in a tone that felt far and close, as if the very mountains around him were speaking all at once.

"What was it?"

He could have lied, or chosen to swindle the flower in human form, but, he knew that such a thing would be impossible.

He started to laugh slightly, there was an eye in the center of the childs forehead, staring straight at him, with blood red pupils, his lips parted suppressing a chuckle at the desperate look, "...They say that the eyes, are the windows to the soul. Even masterful painters suffer at the hands of that profundity."

It blinked a few times, it's mouth quaveringly opened, "...Eyes? Eyes! Eyes again! Of course it was eyes, again! Master said it, he said to work on eyes, but... ah...! ...Of course, eyes..." 

He listened to the rambling that went on for a while, it was almost feverish... had it forgotten he was there? 

In the meantime, he idly observed the surroundings.

He had to say, the giants truly valued their craftsmanship above all things.

It was true, that this little thing had failed at the creation of the eyes, and mimicking his memories perfectly, but, this environment... it was not of the current time.

He started to move around, perhaps if he had some time to investigate it, he could get some clues-?

"-A, a, a, no spoilers," His body stopped listening to him, that eye levied a terrible look at him, "You humans are always so tragic. But, I suppose, that is the charm of your short lived species."

It jumped out of his arms and stood in front of him, it looked at him for a few more tense moments, and then at last shook it's head.

"In five thousand years, I have only encountered a single creature that could break my techniques, and it was yet another human. Bunch of godless things," It raised a hand, making a finger gun pointed at him, it raised a brow, "A deal is a deal... Though there will no next time, if you bring another troublesome thing into our home."

The whole world started to fall apart.

"Hacuray was it?" It turned away, and started walking into the distortion, it mumbled to itself like an old man as he lost his sense of all direction, shaking it's head, "What is this world coming to?"