The morning of the expedition came, I was up, prepared and ready. Also nervous. The wash basin water has since been changed and now I see my reflection clearly. My eyes, now violent with violet. Shape in my face I have not seen in a long time and the energy to stay standing when the world demands I bow.
I stroll to the hall to meet Orien, no doubt with a face full of broth before we depart. I wish I could feel like this forever, my soul full without the cracks from everyone else chiselling away at it, I just need someone to share this with that isn't Orien.
The hall buzzes with excitement and chatter and Orien sits with spoon to mouth and parchment to table. Predictable. ''Good morning Orien.'' I say, gleaming.
''You seem chipper this morning boy, no nightmares this time I take it.'' Inquired Orien.
''Nope, no darkness or voices last night. I slept great.'' I grinned.
Orien just seems to observe me with that watchful eye, slightly concerned but as usual he smiles and tells me we depart soon, I will need to fill my stomach for energy, I decline. I told him I ate last night, snuck into the kitchens and gorged until my stomach was ballooning. I don't think he believes me but leaves it at that.
''Well go and collect your belongings, anything you need for our journey because we will not be turning around.'' His tone was final, I nod then head back to my room to collect my belongings. I don't own any. Just the cloth that covers me and my name.
I wander, wasting time until I'm expected. I'm going to enjoy leaving this place if only for a while. Fresh air and a new experience, it beats being the outcast delivery boy, I just hope I can stay away from Lucien and his perfect hair and perfect scar, Bastard. I hear whispers as I walk, students asking why I've been selected over them, what could a scarless do to help and I'll probably be killed, Just a load of noise I'm getting used to shutting out.
I look over the balcony facing the city, taking in the sights while it wakes from slumber. Smoke, fresh from chimneys and distant music of stringed instruments bless my ears. The start of the flame solstice, a festival celebrating the coming of summer. The festival is pagan, nothing to do with the 7 sacred crowns but the whole city takes part. Food, music and bonfires fill the hearts of every person who witnesses it, even Scarless attend.
I arrived at the courtyard at the academy's entrance met by the stares of the jealous, those who were not chosen. I spot Orien with Instructor Athea, a Beasthold captain and a few others. They must be finalising the plan, our route and rest spots. The formation of the convoy put students in the middle, while the Beastold held the forward and rear positions so we cannot wonder off, I stood behind Orien and the scholars. We didn't have horses, only the Beasthold did and I know my feet will be worn thin by the time we reach our destination.
The Beasthold captain's voice rang through the air, cutting the chatter. "No heroes today. Keep up. We'll deal with the beasts." I felt the weight of his words and something in me stirred, no time for mistakes, no time for glory.
The city is just as glorious up close, especially on the Flame solstice, red drapes decorate the city with children running and laughing, the music that blessed my ears from distance now sounds near. A melodic tune played on the Tagharp, the three stringed instrument stringed with horse hair on wood. I even receive smiles from the locals, who seem to bless our trip. The aroma of spices and other unknown foods fill the air and actually makes my stomach rumble, it must beat the broth.
The last time I came to the city was an age ago, a time when I still had time to manifest a scar and wasn't branded Scarless. I crave the warmth, the feeling of being involved and not looked down upon, perhaps this trip will change things.
The walk is long and tiring, our convoy is too large to fit into the narrow streets of Crownspire so we walk in a narrow line, taking us longer due to students who stop at stalls or see somebody they know. The Beasthold just bellows out orders and they seem to get back into line quickly. As I walk, my shoulder brushes my own. Lira Kallos. The double scarred of Pride and Deceit. ''Little Orien, can we talk?.'' She banters.
Little Orien? What the fuck. ''How may I be of assistance, Lira?'' I ask, unsure how to take her comment.
Lira's gaze lingered on me, a little too knowing. "I see Orien's being secretive again. Documents that don't concern us... but you don't know anything about that, do you?"
I shrug, not knowing what she means.
"Something's off with Orien," Lira said, her voice colder. "He's hiding things, and you don't seem to care." I tell her I don't deal with anything important and that she's better off speaking to the man himself. She nods to me, apologising if she came across rude and leaves.
At the outskirts of the city, the group stopped to rest. Some sought out a tavern, their laughter loud in the still air. I was just thankful for the quiet behind the building, where the night would pass.
Orien calls me to follow him, he leads me up the stairs of the tavern to a room used for parties or gatherings. In the room stands Instructor Athea, The Beasthold captain who I now know to be called Dane and some healers and scholars.
''Veyrin, prepare my equipment and maps and while you're at it, do get us another drink dear boy.'' I sigh, it seems I'm back to sorting parchment and being a delivery boy. I place the jugs of ale down on the table, Dane, Orien and a few others rub their hands together excitedly, while Instructor Athea pushes the beverage back towards me. ''It dulls the senses, makes enemies out of friends and steals your memories. Do not drink this stuff boy.'' Athea instructed.
Orien say's im best getting some sleep, the journey will be long, and if I dream of shadows again, to remember that nightmares are best left in the haziness of broken sleep. Still wise when intoxicated i see.
Laughter, the smell of stew and sound of fire crackling away welcomed me as I stepped into the makeshift camp. Guards and students alike making merry and enjoying our time away. I search for my tent, which seems to be lost in this sea of temporary abodes and cool summer air.
''I don't know why they invited that mutt, I have friends who deserve to be here. Just wait until I speak to Father. If a beast attacks don't expect me to jump in. We were told not to heroes.'' The voice rings out over the camp, not bothered in the slightest who hears. I know who that is, who that pompous smug voice belongs to. Once again, speaking about me when I'm not around. Lucien fucking Solbrax.
Movement stirs from the tent responsible, figures emerge and look around to make sure no one heard them. No one did, except me. Seras, Rell and Thorne stand looking at me, looking at me like this is the last place they want to be, greeting me with a smile they know won't help. It's a pity smile. I have no time for pity.
I find my tent and retire for the night, a sheet and two logs supposed to keep away the bite of wind in the night, I should probably have eaten and filled my stomach for the journey ahead. I forget about it and try to at least sleep tonight. I welcome the dreamless state that took over my body the previous night, Hoping it finds me again.
The forest is dark, branches with the movement of limbs obscure my vision, I don't know where I am. An audience of eyes watch me as I struggle to move forward and make my way out into the clearing ahead.
A woman kneels in the centre, her head angles towards the moon and her hands are clasped, like nothing else matters but the words of the divine she wishes for. The closer I move, the lighter the scene gets, the hotter. I could make out the details of this woman, her hair ink black and face pale like winter snow and her eyes. Black with a violet ring brighter than the moon in the night sky. Her clothes look old, too old. She wears no mark, no sin. Just tears that stream down her face.
I turn, the forest is burning and the scene before me gives fear a new meaning. Women and children lie, dead and burnt. Men, missing their heads and buildings being destroyed brick by brick. The glow of Lightscars now light the remains of the charred forest. The fire disappeared with a scream of the mystery woman who now pleads with the sky, hoping for an answer she knows she will not get. She turns to look at me? And screams. Monster is the name she keeps repeating. Murderer. Traitor. What could I have done?
My breath is ripped out of my throat as a figure passes through me, a mountain is a better word. A mountain of steel and death. His helmet has no features, markings. Just empty and polished until it reflects the horror before him. Black and gold make up his armour. The tallest man I have ever laid my eyes on and if one existed. A god of death.
The woman is now hunched over, blood has replaced tears and she cries into the grass. The man stands above her, words spill but I have no understanding of them, or hers now. Just her lips moving with no sound.
The man picks the woman up clear off the ground by her neck. Squeezing until her face is blue and her hands go limp, unable to move his hands. Before the brute drops her she turns and looks directly into my eyes and speaks.
''In the ruins ahead, Volas awaits you. My sweet boy.''
I awake with tears in my eyes and my heart sinking. For a woman I do not know.