Elyas woke up. Glancing around at the desolate void, he let out a sigh of resignation. I need to buy a watch.
Now that he knew he was tied to the void, Elyas needed to know exactly how much time he spent here.
But he didn't harp on it for long, self pity did him no good. He felt at his heart, his chest now warm and full. His Will had regenerated. Grabbing onto it, he pulled like Julius had taught him to.
Elyas focused. He remembered the cold wind, the always damp air, the gray patchy stone streets and the hovel which housed him at his worst.
He imagined Mistwood.
He pushed and quickly made a window. He was getting faster at it. I wonder how long it'll take before I can do it in a second. Elyas didn't have time to waste. Every moment in the waking world counted towards his doom.
Stepping out into the alley, he startled one of Noah's neighbors.
"Oh, sorry ma'am."
The woman looked at Elyas, and then at Noah's house, seemingly understanding something. "Do you live in this house?" She asked, pointing at Noah's place.
Elyas gave the woman a melancholic look. "I did… but it didn't workout that well."
The woman's eyes sparked with interest. She hesitated, tugging at her blue blouse. Her eyes darted around, lingering on the windows of nearby households. "Sorry for asking… but is he available now? Is he any good?"
Elyas showed a puzzled expression. He wasn't sure what she was talking about. The neighbor, noticing this, clarified as she fiddled with her clothes' pale fabric.
"Umm… what I meant to ask was… is he good in bed?"
"Excuse me!?"
Before Elyas could say anything else, the woman said with a hurried and flustered voice. "Sorry! It was rude to ask about your boyfriend! Do you smell it? I must have left the oven on!" The woman rushed out immediately, leaving Elyas in the now empty alley. Wind passed over the still snow, cooling before hitting him in the face.
What a marvelous day… Did she say boyfriend? Elyas stopped for a moment to process what he just heard. But remembering that he couldn't afford to waste time, he rushed to get to class.
…
In Mistwoods' biggest D.E.B
Elyas walked down the hallway as he let out a sigh of relief. Thank god everyone's in class.
He had come late due to a fight that broke out between two local gangs in his way.
Striding through the corridors, he enjoyed the rare quiet that never blessed these walls. Opening his classroom door with a smile, he was surprised. Examining the class for a moment, a puzzled expression found its way onto his face.
Did I make a mistake? he glanced up at the sign near the door. Nope. It says it's class B2… So where's everybody? He looked at the empty seats and desolate desks one more time before closing the door.
Well, I guess I'm visiting Hanan today. He turned and picked his way towards the man's office. Elyas wasn't very fond of the guy considering what he had done to Noah.
But he was the only person he knew in the school's staff besides the giant.
Come to think of it, I'm quite well connected already. I assume knowing three True Legacies is not common. His steps halted for a moment, …now that I'm thinking about it, if we're really that rare for people to make a scene every time one of us appears, then why does a supposedly small town in the middle of nowhere have three?
Elyas pushed the question into the back of his mind. He planned on asking Julius later. Reaching the manager's office, he opened the door.
"God damn it! Knock— oh, if it isn't Mister Mortall." Hanan hurriedly hid something behind his back.
Elyas took note of it, but didn't bring it up. "Sorry to interrupt your… anyways, I came here because my class was empty and today we were supposed to have theoretical class—"
"Oh, didn't trainer Julius inform your class yesterday?"
Elyas showed a confused look, making Hanan sigh before resuming. "Mr. Anick, B2 and A1's theoretical instructor, has fallen ill. But no need to be concerned, Mr. Anick had called this morning, informing us of his steady recovery."
"... Alright, but what do I do about the empty classroom?"
"Oh, I believed we had sent a telegraph to Enforcer silver regarding the matter. Your classes with instructor Anick are currently on hold, so enjoy your few days off however you'd like Mister."
Elyas nodded, Noah was probably too tired to remember to remind him about it.
"Mr. Hanan… did you manage to get a hold of Cid?"
The manager shook his head. "We have, but it's not good news. The boy seemed… out of it for the most part. My colleagues and I decided to give him a few weeks off, he's currently home recovering."
Elyas nodded and left Hana's office after that. There wasn't anything else to discuss. To think one would scar a child like that… He quickly got rid of the thought. Instead, he focused on his conversation with Hanan as he navigated the hallways.
Telegraph huh. I thought people only used those in detective novels… or any historical drama for that matter.
He quickened his pace, each gait larger than the last. "Speaking of history, I had a meeting with the Librarians!"
…
Near the dumping zone.
A hooded man rushed forward through the cramped alleys of the northern backstreets. His slender frame whistled through the air along with his gray beard, swaying with each left and right turn. Anick was carrying dirty heavy bags.
Unbeknownst to him, someone was observing. Following.
It didn't take long for the instructor to reach the dumping zone. This middle aged man had seen better days. To think he would be involved in such matters.
"Doesn't matter… all I have to do is finish the request." He muttered under his breath and walked forward. Stepping on the now yellow soil.
Standing in a dark corner of a distant alley, a small blond boy watched his teacher carry several bags through the rusty gates of the junkyard.
"Yes, I'm there. I'll make sure no one sees a thing sir." He said, speaking to no one. Then a voice came, barely audible through the brass stopwatch's glass. "Make… it's… if you…kill…regret."
"Yes sir." Cid said, and with that, the voice stopped and the watch resumed its usual ticking.
Turning his head slightly, Cid glanced to the side. Two men dressed in dark blue uniforms embroidered with intricate patterns of gold lay unconscious.
"Let's take care of the trash first."
He approached and tapped their foreheads.
Just as he did, the men began to convulse. Their skin wriggled as they opened their mouths in silent scream. Worms. It was as if thousands of insects and worms had buried themselves deep within, and now wanted a way out.
…No. Not worms. Fingers. They poked through the skin, crawling upwards. Covering. Every inch of the Defender's bodies was covered in an instant, fingers clinging onto them like a shroud made of disjointed palms.
Cracking. Only that resounded in the alley for the next minute. After, the mass of fingers and palms receded back into the men's bodies.
They opened their eyes.
Their pupils now deep scarlet.