Ifrailian Tales

Ongoing journey

Month by month, week by week, Damian's daily activities have been the same, exact thing over and over again. All that seemed to change was the scenery, from the bustling mega city Apilena, to small scattered villages on the outskirts of Alexandria's territory. Right now, he was making his way towards Elane village. Elane was a fairly new blip on the map, having been established only a year ago. Not to mention it's relative proximity to one of Alexandria's mega cities made Elane a strange anomaly when it came to the borders of the kingdom's reach.

Of course, the settlement was still a ways away from the city. And given Damian's lack of credits, he was forced to make the day's journey on foot. Sure, it was tedious but any weariness or exhaustion he felt was nothing compared to what he went through during his daily training sessions at the Mage academy. The thought of visiting a cafe with his friends sounded amazing to him, kicking back and making small talk besides those closest to you... but that wasn't possible, not anymore. Damian stopped and looked up at the horizon, the sun was setting, basking the world in an orange hue. He should be arriving soon... bang!

A gunshot rang out through the forest, birds fled the scene, abandoning their nests. Damian grabbed his hilt and applied a mild augmentation spell before bolting towards the source. The forest around him turned into a blur as he sped towards the village, covering what should have been a thirty minute walk into five. A thick, ten foot wall entered his sight, but he didn't stop. After five more steps, Damian bent his knees and leapt into the air, easily scaling the obstruction. Once he was over the wall, Damian compiled a hastily put together assessment of the situation. In the center of the village, thirty or so villagers were gathered accompanied by four armed assailants, hostages. Sprinkled across the small town were the wrecks of destroyed S.C.S androids, Damian assumed they had been given to Elane by the city. To the right of the villagers, in front of a house much larger than that of the others, were two individuals.

"Hey!" a voice came from below, Damian swiftly ignited his catalyst and used the blue blade to block a hail of gunfire. Two men were under him, now that his cover was blown Damian had to hope his estimate of the enemy forces was sufficient. He landed in between them, flicking his wrist to the right. The mana blade slicing through the man's rifle like a knife through butter. Just as the second bandit reacted, he was silenced by another flourish of Damian's blade.

The taller individual standing before the mansion turned their head, Damian caught a glimpse of the woman's face taking note of a massive scar on her left cheek. She c****d her head, redirecting the four bandits, guarding the townsfolk towards the white haired interloper. Armed with similar rifles, the remaining criminals opened fire, thankfully Damian was able to protect himself from most of their attacks with his glowing sword. However a few stray shots made it past his defenses, chewing through his left pant leg and cutting holes through Damian's golden jacket. With his attention stolen from him, a single projectile grazed his cheek. Except, none of the goons fired off that shot, Damian looked in between her cannon fodder only to see smoke still trailing off the scarred woman's handgun.

"Looks like we have ourselves a guests boys," the woman smirked. "Why don't we give him an outsider's welcome!"

Her remaining force raised their weapons into the air and roared triumphantly, their voices became one as it resounded through the forest.

Damian's eyes constantly drifted from thug to thug, "five bad guys" Damian muttered. The teasing taste of victory tickled his tongue, all the cards were in his favor but he'd have to be careful, no matter what spell you cast a bullet can take you out all the same. Damian clutched his hilt with both hands, lifting it's glowing blade till it's radiating hue obscured the young mage's sight. He filled his lungs with air, keeping it confined within him for five seconds, then exhaled, a small trick to help maintain focus, something he had picked up from his older brother.

"Alright," Damian clamped down on his handle hard enough to c***k the wood lined hilt, "Let's do this."

He sprung forward, swinging his sword around erratically to counter the metal projectiles that rained down on him. While negating any damage, his clothing was reduced to tattered rags that barely kept form. He closed the distance, swiping his blade through the enemy's rifles, slicing through them like scissors snipping away at construction paper.

The distinct, instant pain of a punch reverberated throughout his skull. Adapt, Damian sidestepped to avoid another strike from the burly man, whose allies joined the battle, one hucking their mangled rifle towards Damian, smacking against his temple. Staggered, the hulking man took a chance, throwing a right hook, on instinct Damian retailed in force. The mana blade ripped into the man's forearm, blood spurted out of the gash and the man cried out in anguish. Like a hangnail his forearm dangled, gripping his shoulder the man dropped to his knees. Damian placed his boot on the back of the man's head, and stomped it. Unconsciousness was a blessing, Damian could only ponder the pain of almost losing a limb, as expected those left over fled, cowards.

"Leave," Damian said pressing the super heated blade against the unconscious man's cheek.

The seeming leader of the bunch chuckled, "Was that supposed to be a threat? Kid, I don't think you know who you're dealing with here."

"Neither do you so I'll say it again, leave," Damian held the sword just an inch above his hostage's nape. The scarred lady scoffed, turned her head and whispered something to the person standing behind her. After which, with an immeasurable sense of confidence, strolled past Damian. Making it a point to step on her fallen subordinate, one final assertion of her dominance before exiting the walled off community. The entire population of villagers let out a collective sigh of relief, eager to put this whole ordeal behind them. All those gathered in the center, broke away, assessing the damage, checking up on their loved ones or simply returned home.

Damian ripped off the last bits of his jacket and undershirt, forging a makeshift tourniquet. Carefully, he lifted the man's gnarled limb, aligning it as best he could with the upper section of his arm, securing it to slow the blood loss.

"U-Uh," Damian spun around, facing a woman not much older than himself. About Five foot, four in height with spiked blue hair. He noticed her eyes frantically darting around the surroundings, he glanced down and realized his outfit was reduced to a few loose strings of fabric draped across his shoulders and a very tattered pair of pants, it's not hard to imagine how someone could be uncomfortable in this scenario. But before he could ponder the thought some more, she spoke up.

"Thank you... erm-"

"Damian, Damian Safire"

"Yes, well... um, my name's Rachel," Two of the more built villagers walked over, hoisted the battered and beaten man over their shoulders, and dragged him away. " I'll arrange for you to receive some new clothing..."

"Oh that'd be..."

"...Great," Damian was told to wait inside of an empty room inside the village inn, hours passed and when his replacement outfit came... it was just a black cloak with matching pants. The blue haired woman he had met previously delivered his replacement garments, she looked visibly disheartened after Damian saw the sparse set of clothes.

"I'm sorry," she started, "This was all I could find, please try and put up with it.."

"No, it's fine," trying to ease her worry, Damian smiled and threw on the cloak. He tugged on his threadbare pants, stopping a moment ahead of when they would've slipped down his legs. "So... could you turn around please?"

"Oh!" She shouted, no doubt heard by the other residences inside the inn before spinning around. She faced the wall throughout the time Damian slipped out of his torn pants, and put on the replacement. As well as throwing the pitch black cloak over himself.

"Ahem, so what brings you to Elane?"

"I'm uh, looking for someone. I'm sure he passed through this town," Damian said, turning to face his newfound friend. "In fact, I was hoping you could help me out"

"Well I can certainly try, do you have a photo?" Damian moved over to the nightstand to the right of his bedroom's twin sized mattress, pulling out a small disc shaped object, a holo pic. He activated the device, which displayed a picture of a young man dressed in a white jacket, the woman stared blankly at the photo, no doubt about it, she never saw him.

"It's sort of an old photo,"

"I'm sorry, I can't recall ever seeing this man..."

"It's fine," Damian replied, slipping the Holo pic into his left pocket. He'd have been lying if he said he wasn't disappointed. Another village, another dead end, another wasted opportunity...

"Hey- Don't look so down," Rachel chimed in. "Elane is a big place, maybe someone else spotted him. In fact, tomorrow I'll take you around town, that should help right?

"W-Wait that's not-"

"It's settled. I'll come around at one pm, for now you should get some rest."

With that Rachel left the small bedroom, Damian sat there in silence, not completely sure if he had control of that conversation or not. Regardless, it seems he'll be taking part in a tour of town. For now though, Damian was beyond exhausted. Dragging his weary limbs to the bed was a struggle in it of itself. And once the back of his head sunk into the soft, and surprisingly well maintained pillow, he went out like a light.

Just as she said, starting at one PM the next day Rachel took Damian around the village. They spent the next few hours walking from one place of interest to another, questioning villagers along the way.

Damian enjoyed his brief look into small town life. Most everyone knew each other, and hospitality was through the roof during his tour. Many people gave him small tokens of their appreciation for helping defend their town. Whether it be a small morsel of food or a simple handshake. It felt nice, nice to be welcomed into a community with open arms. Sure he helped ward off an attack, but aside from a quick thank you, these people weren't obligated to do anything further.

From Inn to restaurant, from farm to the local bar, Damian learned plenty more about the budding town, the pros and cons of living the small town life... but nothing about who he was looking for. And while the sky above was painted orange by the sun receding, Damian and Rachel had checked off every landmark, all except the church.

"There it is..." Rachel muttered as the cathedral came into view. The church was separate from the village, constructed to the west of Elane hidden away inside of a dense forest. They had taken the liner dirt road, a straight line leading them down the ten minute trek through the wilderness.

"Something wrong," Damian asked.

"Just... anxious," she started, "My uncle is the pastor of the church..."

"And that's bothering you, why?"

"We had a falling out, my mother started to prioritize the needs of the town over the church's agenda."

"Shouldn't those things coincide with one another? I mean doesn't the goddess believe in the wellbeing of all living creatures?"

"Oh, this isn't a church of Sylvia. This church follows the teachings of Meyong."

This was unexpected, it's not that followers of Meyong were uncommon, quite the opposite in fact. A large number of mages associated with the Academy were devout followers. But that's the thing, Mages, for a church dedicated to the chivalrous warrior Meyong to be constructed far away from the center of magecraft... it was unusual. Damian didn't put much more thought into it, he was after one thing and one thing only, the whereabouts of a single man.

They finally reached the gate, Rachel pushed the metal frame open and the pair entered. Once inside there was an intense feel of unease around them and in turn the church. It felt like they had entered a cemetery as opposed to a house of god. The gate closed behind them, it's hinges whining until it latched back into place. Causing a loud sound, one that disturbed the birds in the surrounding trees. Rachel flinched at the overlapping flapping of wings, and once again when the massive double doors of the church's entrance were lazily pushed open.

Standing in between the doors was a young man, sixteen or so Damian thought. Wearing a golden over shirt with white outlines, after an incredibly uncomfortable bit of silence the teen looked over his shoulder, "Father, we have guests."

"Wonderful, send them in," replied a deep masculine voice from inside the church. The boy headed inside, Damian and Rachel did the same. Their footsteps bounced off the stone walls, the main hall was dimly lit with only a few measly candlesticks providing light. Aside from the large dual windows, that had a wide array of stained glass comprising it. Standing at the altar, was a man dressed in white robes, with crimson streaks shaped like a short sword splattered across the man's chest.

He tore his attention off the massive tomb resting atop the altar, setting his sights on the two visitors. "Ah, welcome to the church of honor and virtue, my children"

"Good evening, Uncle Davon," Rachel said, Damian meanwhile rolled his eyes, he was never one for these types of pleasantries. The priest stepped down, getting closer to his estranged family member.

"It's not often we see you," he said, placing a comforting hand onto her shoulder. "Family should stick together no?"

"Now's not the time, I'm here with official business from the town."

"I see," The pastor pulled his arm back and redirected his attention towards the one wearing a loose cloak over himself. "You smell of mana young one"

Before Damian could speak up, Rachel forced herself into the conversation. "He's the one who fought off the Nine Lives."

"Is that so? Well then, as a follower of the god of honor, I am indebted to you for protecting our small town in my absence," Devon grinned, not some facade either; this was the smile of someone who was truly grateful.

"It was really no issue ahaha..." Damian brushed off the slight embarrassment of the man's praise, cutting right to the chase. Out from his pocket came the holo-pic, he held it out in his palm, soon the device came to life displaying the very same image Rachel had seen hours previous. "But, I was wondering if you've come into contact with this man?"

The man of god took a long hard look at the digital photograph, his expression souring just a tad. He nodded to himself and made eye contact with Damian once more. "Different clothing, but yes I've seen him."

Damian's eyes shot open, "Really! When, how long ago-"

"Patience my child, he was the reason for my absence during yesterday's conflict. He requested use of my bloodline magic, he was searching for something in the ruins to the north." He spoke, without any real infliction in his voice, Damian started to open his mouth but was silenced by the pastor. "During his search he determined that the object he sought was elsewhere, we parted ways right then and there. After that, I arrived during the aftermath of the bandit raid."

Damian was stunned, his prey had been here. Not just that, on the very same day as well. Feelings of disappointment battled with the warm feeling of satisfaction he felt. Although ultimately he was back to square one, not only had he not found who he was looking for but he hadn't the faintest clue about his whereabouts. There was a silver lining however, even though they've most likely been on the move ever since last night, they couldn't have gotten far. If Damian played his cards right, he'll be face to face with his target soon enough.

"I'm sorry," the pastor said, his friendly demeanor resurfacing, "The church of Meyong is indebted to you. If we can do anything for you, please do not hesitate to ask."

"Hmmm," under normal circumstances Damian would humbly refuse an offer such as that. This time however, there was something he wanted that the church could provide. Damian's eyes found themselves unconsciously drifting to the left, locking onto the teenage follower of Meyong. "...That jacket."

"..."

"..."

"I absolutely cannot believe you did that," Rachel exclaimed amidst a fit of laughter. The stone walls of the church were nothing more than a distant memory as they made their way back into town. Now wearing a golden over shirt, Damian even found himself cracking a smile.

"What can I say, the jacket looked nice," time seemed to fly by and before either of them had realized it they had arrived at town square.

It was a dark night, not too many street lamps had been installed yet, but according to Rachel those were coming sooner rather than later. Elane was quickly modernizing, and once Alexandria establishes a governor, this small village will be brought into the main kingdom. By all accounts this was a great thing, influx of population, expansion, and most importantly of all protection from raids.

Part of Damian was saddened, something about being around Rachel was calming, enjoyable. And yet, he would need to say goodbye. He took a step towards the gate at the edge of the protective wall built around the community. Rachel spoke up, "Oh, are you leaving so soon?"

"Yeah..."

"A-At least let me put together some food for you to take with you-"

"It's fine thank you Rachel," Damian turned to face her, "For showing me around your village, it was all really fun." He smiled, more times during this one day than he had within the last month or two. And with that, Damian moved towards the gate.

Rachel had one last thing to say, "Can I ask one thing before you go?"

"Shoot."

"That man in the photo, who is he to you?"

Damian stared off into space, taking in a deep breath before finally coming clean, "...He's my brother."

If Rachel reacted in any way Damian didn't know. Nothing mattered to him anymore, the only thing that plagued his mind, was his brother...