Hidden in a Garlean airship and concealed in a room in the lower deck, Eila hears the low hum of Judges devising a plan.
"... But what about our key?" A flat and firm voice asks, trying to keep his tone down.
"Never mind her," quips another. A familiar voice pierces the air, dominating the question. A curious Eila sneaks closer to the door, hoping for more information about today's mission. Pressing an eager ear against the door, she listens intently; the unmistakable voice continues. "Chaos, which now reigns in the city, is more than enough as a distraction. We can manage on our own."
Eila shudders. That tremor of tone, most particularity, is one she does not wish to be around. Truth, she would rather be far away from the empire as a whole. But he is one that hovers over and around her like a wasp, ready to attack.
Not once did they mention requiring her abilities. Either their pride speaks against rationality, or this is proving to be her only chance of escape from the Garlean Empire. Even so, she continues to listen despite him and their plan.
"This is our time to strike," A Judge shouts in effervescent agreement. "While Ala Mhigo is in strife and their land in disarray!"
"Ssh-ut up," Another hisses. "The girl... " Eila hears a loud thunk, metal hitting metal recoils off the walls near her door. The deep, gravely voice trails off as heavy, metallic boots become distant until she can no longer hear their march or arguments anymore.
Eila heaves a sigh of relief, hating those vaulted voices that sharply crackle through metal like soulless husks. She cannot… no, she will not forget the haunting sound the metallic armour makes when they speak.
Eila was 12 years old when the Judges, accompanied by their soldiers, came out of nowhere. Travelers, adventurers and her family camped around her in the open fields, enjoying her harp and songs. A meaning of which she did not yet understand herself. Then they came for her. The soldiers surrounded the camp and made a parting position for the four Judges to have a clear view and path straight for her, if necessary.
"Eila of Gridania." A smooth voice said, holding out his hand to her.
"We require your incredible area of effect abilities." One to her left said, beckoning her with his staff.
"Come with us." Another to her right said, walking slowly toward her.
"...Or else…" Said one behind her, much more coolly than the others; as if leaving a trace of ice in the air. Pricked by the icy and tormenting voices, Eila's heart fell from fear, and her knees buckled under her until she could no longer stand. This caused chaos between the Judges' soldiers and the adventurers. Some tried to save her, but were found to be severely out ranked and out numbered. Not wanting them killed or her family, Eila decided to go with the Garleans, willingly.
Six years have passed since then – six years of being ripped from her homeland and becoming acquainted with fear and hopelessness with a new band of Judges to deal with.
The last mention of "the girl" leaves her uneasy. The unknown digs at her stomach like a pit – either this night she flees their captivity, or she lies down for slaughter. This is no life at all, and for six years of feeling like a walking shell. Apprehension gnaws deeply within her, the weight of choosing between life and death pressing down like the shackle around her neck.
Silence fills the air beyond the door and Eila sinks into the lone chair in the empty room feeling hopeless; all meaning and purpose – nonexistent. Hands balled into fists on her lap as tears begin to well.
Crying won't help my situation.
Her soul cries out to the One who will hear. Begging for deliverance from a people bent on using her as a disposable tool. What would happen if they deem her useless to them? There is no way she could break out of this secret place on her own. The door operates solely by a keycard that only Judges carry, and her best bet is that a soldier or two stands guard just outside. The windowless room proves her blind. Truly, she is trapped without a way.
Defeat grasps her heart, suffocating what minuscule will she has left. Eila slumps off the chair and spills onto the floor, there's no evading what's to come. She might as well surrender her very life, or what's left of it.
A small sound alerts her ears and turns her head to the direction of where the sound came from. Her eyes lock onto a green light at the door.
The door is unlocked.
Her heart blooms with an entanglement of anticipation and anxiety, fully expecting a Judge to emerge without fail. No one comes through and the door remains closed. Her heart leaps and she quietly races to the door. About to place her ear against it, the door opens. Panic takes hold and she jumps backward.
But only the empty space meets her.
Cautiously, Eila peeks outside the room. No soldiers guarding the door or anyone on the lower deck, but an eerie silence hangs in the atmosphere, until something catches her eye. Glowing toward the stairs to the upper deck, floats a small… blaze?
What is that?
It could be a trap. But what other choice does she have? Either they catch her trying to escape, or she makes it out only to find herself lost and alone in a war she knows nothing about – freedom itself mocking her. She doesn't know the layout of the airship. Not even what war looks like. She's only ever heard about it.
Eila places her faith in the glow, treading carefully towards the small brilliance. Coming into focus, a flame encased in crystal is revealed. Then, as if beckoning her, it begins to move again, leading her to the exit of the airship.
Strange... not a single soldier or Judge is to be seen. Where did they disappear to?
Beep-beep. The door to the exit unlocks and without warning the crystal flame disappears as the door opens. Not wasting another second, Eila takes two steps out the door and what she observes shocks her to her core.
***