Tirnanog

Back on the surface. Youth continued to walk ahead, his pace steady but his mind clearly elsewhere. The forests around them were dense, the leaves rustling in the breeze, but Schneizal remained close behind, his curiosity as sharp as ever.

"Hey, wait up!" Schneizal called, his voice still light but now tinged with interest. "So, what's up with your eye?"

Youth's hand instinctively touched the eye patch that covered his right eye, the only visible sign of the pain he'd endured years ago. His gaze never wavered from the path ahead, but his mind drifted to that moment—the pain, the sacrifice, the loss of his father.

"It's a long story," Youth said, his voice quiet but firm, not inviting further questions. He didn't want to talk about it, not to someone he had just met, not when the memories were still so raw.

Schneizal, sensing the tension, fell into step beside him. His blue eyes glimmered with curiosity, but he didn't press the matter. Instead, he let out a soft chuckle, his tone easing the air between them.

"A long story, huh?" Schneizal said, looking at Youth's eye with a mix of concern and intrigue. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I get it. But you know, you've got a pretty intense look going on there, all mysterious and brooding. It's a good look, though."

Youth shot him a sideways glance, his lips twitching into a small, amused smile despite himself. "I'm not trying to look intense. I just... I don't like talking about it."

"Fair enough," Schneizal shrugged, adjusting the heavy sword slung across his back. "But you should know, I don't mind hearing about the stories behind scars.

The warmth of the bar lingered in the air as Youth and Schneizal finished their meal, the chatter and clinking of mugs fading as they stood up to leave. Schneizal stretched, a satisfied grin on his face. "See? That wasn't so bad after all."

Youth didn't respond, his mind focused on the road ahead. He had no interest in staying any longer than necessary, but Schneizal's insistence had worn him down. He stepped toward the door, his hand resting briefly on the cool wooden frame. He was ready to continue his journey, to get closer to the answers he sought.

But just as they made their way outside, something stopped him.

A woman in the corner of the bar caught his attention. She was standing quietly, her long, light green and blonde hair flowing under a wide, dark hat that obscured most of her face. Her gaze, however, was fixed directly on them. Youth's eyes narrowed instinctively, a strange feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach.

Her eyes, despite the shadow of her hat, locked onto the red cloth tied around his arm—the same piece of fabric that had been wrapped around him when he was rescued all those years ago. He didn't recognize her, but the way she stared at the cloth made him uneasy. He had no idea who she was or what she wanted, but he could tell she knew more than she was letting on.

Before Youth could process what was happening, Schneizal's voice broke through. "You good, friend?" He turned to look at him, still unaware of the woman's presence. "Let's get moving."

But Youth didn't answer. Instead, he stepped toward the edge of the building, his senses on high alert. There was something about the woman that set him on edge.

The moment Schneizal followed, however, the silence of the evening air was shattered.

"You rebels are really starting to annoy me, you know that?" A cold voice rang out from behind them.

Youth spun around, eyes narrowing as he saw the woman step forward, her hat now tilting slightly to reveal her sharp features. There was a quiet menace in her words, as though she had been watching their every move from the moment they entered the bar. The way she spoke suggested that they had crossed some line, one they weren't aware of.

"Rebels? Huh?" Schneizal asked, his tone confused but still cocky. "You've got the wrong people. We're just passing through."

But the woman didn't seem interested in explanations. Her hand moved gracefully to the book strapped to her waist—a grimoire, its pages ancient and worn.

"I don't have time for games," she hissed, flipping open the grimoire with a flourish. "You'll learn what happens when you interfere with powers greater than you."

In an instant, her fingers began to weave signs in the air, a hum of raw energy building around her. A flash of light illuminated the forest clearing as she lifted her hand, and before either Youth or Schneizal could react, a bolt of lightning surged toward them.

It was unlike any magic either of them had encountered. The raw power of it was astonishing—a Grade 1 spell at the very least. Youth barely had time to raise his arm to block, and Schneizal leaped to the side, both of them narrowly avoiding the blast.

Schneizal quickly drew his giant sword, the massive blade almost too heavy for any normal person to wield. "We don't have time for this, but I'll be happy to entertain you for a while!" he shouted, readying himself for the battle ahead.

Schneizal stepped forward, his stance confident and cocky. "So, you think you can take me down? You'll regret that. I'm a Grade 2, you know? I don't lose to just anyone."

The woman sneered at him, clearly unimpressed. "A Grade 2, huh? How cute." Her tone was mocking, almost as if she had no intention of taking him seriously.

With a sudden movement, Schneizal lunged forward, his massive sword swinging in a wide arc. The woman quickly countered, conjuring a shield of magic to block his strike. She laughed, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Is that all you've got?" she taunted. "I expected more from a Grade 2."

Schneizal gritted his teeth, swinging his sword again, but before he could make contact, the woman raised her hand and blasted him with a powerful bolt of energy. The blast sent him flying backward, crashing into a nearby tree, his body slamming against the bark with a loud thud.

"You can't even land a hit. How pathetic," she mocked, her grin widening.

Youth, watching the exchange from the sidelines, remained unfazed by the woman's attack. He had seen enough. The fight wasn't going to last long if he didn't step in. Schneizal, though strong, was outmatched.

The woman's eyes glinted as she turned to face him, a cruel smile curling on her lips. "You're next, then," she said, raising her hand to launch another spell. She summoned dark energy that crackled with raw power, her eyes fixated on Youth.

But Youth was already moving.

With a swift motion, he stepped forward, his spear held firmly in his grip. The woman's attack came fast, but Youth's reflexes were quicker. He blocked the incoming blast with the shaft of his spear, the energy crackling against the wood before dissipating harmlessly.

The woman's eyes widened in surprise. "What?!"

Before she could react, Youth launched himself at her with incredible speed. He swung his spear with precision, striking her with a force that knocked her off her feet. She crumpled to the ground, dazed and defeated.

Schneizal, still recovering from the blast, watched in awe as Youth stood over the woman, his posture calm and collected.

"That's how it's done," Youth said, his voice cold and resolute.

The woman groaned on the ground, too disoriented to continue the fight. Youth stepped back, his spear lowered, his gaze never leaving her.

"Your magic was nothing compared to the truth we're seeking," he said quietly. "You won't stand in our way."

Schneizal, now getting back to his feet, couldn't help but grin. "Damn, kid. You really know how to handle yourself."

Youth gave him a brief glance, but didn't respond. His focus was already on the path ahead. There was still much to be done.

The woman slowly regained consciousness, her head pounding as she blinked against the harsh light. Her limbs felt heavy, and when she tried to move, she realized she was tied up securely with ropes, her hands bound behind her back.

Schneizal stood nearby, arms crossed, a smirk on his face as he watched her struggle. "Well, well, looks like you've finally come to," he said mockingly. "You're lucky Youth here didn't decide to end things quickly."

The woman shot him a venomous glare. "Shut up, rebel!" she spat, her voice laced with disdain. "Because of you, you're giving me a bad rep. You and your little group keep interfering with everything I try to do!"

Schneizal raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "A bad rep? And who exactly are you, huh?"

The woman slowly regained consciousness, her head pounding as she blinked against the harsh light. Her limbs felt heavy, and when she tried to move, she realized she was tied up securely with ropes, her hands bound behind her back.

Schneizal stood nearby, arms crossed, a smirk on his face as he watched her struggle. "Well, well, looks like you've finally come to," he said mockingly. "You're lucky Youth here didn't decide to end things quickly."

The woman shot him a venomous glare. "Shut up, rebel!" she spat, her voice laced with disdain. "Because of you, you're giving me a bad rep. You and your little group keep interfering with everything I try to do!"

Schneizal raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "A bad rep? And who exactly are you, huh?"

The woman sneered, her face twisting with frustration. "My dream is to live in Ketergia, but no. All you damn rebels do is ruin it! You don't understand anything. We're the ones trying to change things, to be part of that world above! But people like you keep getting in the way!"

Youth, standing a few steps behind Schneizal, remained silent, his gaze focused ahead. He wasn't entirely sure what the woman was talking about, but he could tell she wasn't just some random enemy. She had a personal stake in whatever was going on.

Schneizal, unfazed by the woman's anger, leaned in slightly, his tone casual but filled with a touch of mockery. "Ketergia, huh? So you were after that dream of living with the so-called 'elite,' huh? What a joke. The people up there don't care about people like you—just like they don't care about people like Youth here." He pointed at Youth, who ignored the comment entirely.

The woman's eyes narrowed, her teeth gritting as she struggled against the ropes. "You don't know anything about it," she snarled. "The elites of Ketergia, they promised everything to us. They were supposed to bring the ground and the sky together! But all they did was leave us behind, and now it's people like you who make it worse. You call us rebels, but we're just trying to survive in this broken world!"

Schneizal chuckled, unfazed by her anger. "Survive? If that's the best excuse you've got for your attacks, you're more deluded than I thought." He took a step back and looked at Youth. "What do you think, kid? Sounds like she's got herself a sob story."

Youth didn't answer right away, his eyes still distant. He was processing what the woman had said, considering the possibility that there was more to her than just an enemy to defeat.

"Maybe," Youth said softly, his voice steady, "But it doesn't excuse the way she's been going about it."

Schneizal laughed, glancing at Youth. "Well said, kid. Now, what do we do with her?"

The woman struggled once more, glaring at them both. "Do whatever you want. But remember, the truth is coming for all of us. Ketergia won't stay up there forever."

Her words hung in the air, and Schneizal turned to Youth. "You hear that? Sounds like we've got ourselves a real mystery on our hands."

Youth's expression hardened as he nodded. "We'll figure it out. But first, let's deal with this."

After a quiet moment of reflection by the campfire, Youth, Schneizal, and the woman—now tied and placed on a cart—set off again. The long day of travel had taken its toll, and the trio decided to rest for the night by a tranquil lake.

Youth sat at the edge of the water, gazing up at the vast sky. His mind wandered back to that fateful day when he had fallen from the heavens. He could still hear the sickening sound of his father's decapitation, the weight of Gordon's sacrifice heavy on his heart. The memory was seared into his mind—the way Ketergia had betrayed everything his father had fought for.

The lake shimmered under the moonlight as Youth stared at the distant city of Ketergia, its towering spires like a cruel reminder of the world above. He clenched his fists as a surge of anger mixed with the sorrow in his chest.

Then, as if from nowhere, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Quite the view, isn't it?" The woman, Sequana, stood behind him, her presence almost unnoticed until she spoke.

Without thinking, Youth's reflexes kicked in. In a blur of motion, he whirled around and launched his spear at her. The tip of the weapon narrowly missed her, landing in the ground beside her.

Sequana didn't flinch, her expression unchanged. "You're quick," she said, a sly smile creeping onto her face. "But that armor…" She eyed him, her gaze intense. "That's Ketergia's design, isn't it? But no feather headband. You're not one of them, aren't you? How did you manage to steal their armor?"

Youth remained silent, his eyes narrowing. He wasn't in the mood for her questions. With a stiff posture, he turned and began walking away, his silence a clear dismissal.

Sequana crossed her arms, clearly irritated. "I'm talking to you, and you're just going to ignore me? How rude." Her voice was tinged with frustration, but also a hint of amusement, as if she enjoyed getting under his skin.

Youth didn't respond, his focus solely on the journey ahead. He wasn't going to let her distractions steer him off course. As he moved further from the lake, his mind raced with thoughts of Ketergia, of the city and its lies, and what he needed to do next.

The morning sun rose, casting golden rays over the landscape, but Schneizal woke in a panic. His eyes darted to the cart where the woman had been tied. He rushed over to find the ropes cut and the woman gone.

"Where the hell did she go?!" Schneizal exclaimed, running frantically to the cart and inspecting the area. He was about to shout when a calm voice interrupted him.

"Relax, I won't fight you losers," the woman's voice came from behind him.

Schneizal spun around, his face red with frustration. "Damn it, don't sneak up on me like that!"

The woman stood at a distance, unfazed by his reaction. With a nonchalant shrug, she brushed her hair out of her face and adjusted her large hat. "I was tied up. I'm not stupid enough to try anything when I can't move."

"Great," Schneizal muttered, crossing his arms. "You're a pain."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Is that any way to talk to someone who helped you out?"

Schneizal rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right, and I'm sure you've got nothing but good intentions."

The woman smirked, her hands on her hips. "Anyway, let me introduce myself. My name is Sequana."

Schneizal sighed, clearly irritated. "Schneizal," he said curtly, giving her a sharp look.

"Nice to meet you, too," Sequana quipped, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Youth, who had been silently watching the exchange from a distance, remained aloof. He wasn't interested in the petty banter between Schneizal and the woman, though he couldn't help but feel a slight irritation from her continued attempts to get under his skin.

"You two keep arguing," Youth said, his voice cutting through the tension. "We've got a long journey ahead. Let's focus on that."

Sequana shot him a playful smile. "Well, aren't you the serious one? Fine, fine. No more interruptions, but don't expect me to just sit here quietly either."

With that, the group continued their journey, the mood between them still tense but slightly more tolerable.