| abstract
| - A mockingbird cries out into the morning air—its call sharp and projected brightly. In itself, the air was a warm sheet of wind moving over a colder one. Crows and doves alike swept across the air between the trees and fallen structures of the St. Kayara Academy. Their soft calls pierced the air around the gravesite of the past battles’ fallen. It made Bryan Cervantes wonder if it meant anything. Even though he never personally knew anybody who had died there that day two months ago, he felt an empty gaping hole. To him, it did not feel right that he—along with Rebecca—could be revived out of all of those people. There was reason for Rebecca to live: she was the future of Elvinia. Bryan was the king of Gerodathia, but his nation’s future belongs to Erika, not him anymore. What had he to live for? “…Farbridge, take their souls and guide them…” Adina Vallarta said now—or rather, Adriane Zanrus said. She had not reverted back into her disguise of being the headmistress of the Academy. Adriane was still the great-great-great granddaughter of Vanessa Zanrus; yet Adriane was the one to kill her. “…Aluch, vrysden yr kairy Faarbriden…” Rebecca Zubiri said in Elvin. It was only right that she pray for the Elvin members of the dead at that place. The majority of them were Elvin after all, and she was their ruler. She looked all around. Through her transparent black veil, she could see Bryan, Darrel, Rayne and Alastair. It amazed her that they all could still come there; despite all of them dying before. Rebecca remembered what it was like to die—cold and unforgiving. She could only wait to see what could happen to her—landing in the Farbridge or the Nethervoid. She had no salvation—only silence and being forced to wait in the darkness. Now that she was alive again, she never wanted to die anymore. She would force herself to stay immortal. “…Kui-Luan, yin wui tuoc lou Parsiahuoon lyh…” Bryan and Rayne whispered in unison. It also made some sense to pray for the Gerodathian minority in that battle. Darrel Kyung-Soon found he had nothing to pray for. Nobody in that battle was Korean, or Filipino—or from Earth. There was nobody he could relate to in sharing misery. There was nobody to mourn with. On Earth, he always thought he fought a constant battle to live at school. Drugs, killing, firearms; all of those were what made up his school life. But those people had given up their very lives just so some school out in the middle of some basically unknown country could still stand. They left their family and friends to see what they could gain from a battle—and they ended up losing everything. Everything was gone for them. Was there a Heaven, a Farbridge waiting for them? Darrel still had a mother and friends who loved him and pets that could provide comfort when loneliness came around. And yes, it was true that he had to live to defend himself, but these people could no longer live for anything. A mockingbird cries out into the morning air with its sharp, vivid voice. It finally took wing and flew across the air in an arcing motion. When the curious little animal finally landed on the tree it wanted to go to. It tilted its head to see the gravesites below. Everyone had already parted ways; they were headed home. The mockingbird cried out again, but nobody had bothered to look. The little mockingbird was all alone. In the Elytran skies, not a single cloud was in the sky when its great king stepped out of the doors of his castle—the grand Elytris Castle that spanned across the capital. So many sieges from Kingsbury were stopped by the shining expanse of it. Still—after a hundred years of warfare—it glowed like there was no tomorrow. King Archyn Graydel was so proud that it was now his. His royal blue armor glimmered in the sunlight above the villa in front of the castle. Water spurting up from the fountain landed in the basin with a scintillating splash. “What a great day it is to not be dead,” King Archyn said to nobody in particular as he walked down the villa. “A very nice day for a walk, isn’t it Mary-Beth?” The two guards on either side of him cast a half-worried glance at one another. “Your Highness,” Aldine said, “you’re talking to yourself again.” “Yeah, it’s fucking weird,” Van blurted. Aldine cast an angry glare at him, and stabbed an accusing finger at him. King Archyn simply smiled brightly and kept advancing toward the gates in front of the castle. “Pay no attention to their mouth-words, Mary-Beth,” he said with an almost sickly smile pasted to his face. He reached over and patted the air next to him. “Is that Mary-Beth?” Aldine asked him in an apprehensive voice. The king did not turn around, and slowly stopped patting the air. “It may be,” the king drawled. He reached over slowly and began patting emptiness once more. Van stared off into the emptiness that King Archyn seemed to love consoling. There was nothing—only air in the daytime. And Van and Aldine walked on as if nothing was wrong with them, or their king.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)