Chapter 109: War?
In his memories a figure blurred between the tangible and intangible reality. Sovereign of its own presence, it had engraved itself with terrible dark crimson fire, leaving a mark on his soul.
The ancient count.
The enigmatic existence that constantly guided him like a mentor toward a destiny that transcended his limited vision.
The streets of Bérsaic before him seemed to narrow, with his accelerated heart, losing himself nervously among the crowd.
He felt observed.
An intuitive feeling impossible to feign for his extraordinary senses. Slowly he had entered a labyrinth of which he was already part, too enormous for his insignificant presence.
There were forces in the darkness that widely surpassed him, inheritances and hidden powers. A long table that gathered the most promising prospects and talents; of which he was still only a small member.
He only needed a long and tempestuous winter to flourish.
"The Gods have abandoned us!"
A sonorous shout that crossed the glacial wind interrupted his thoughts. For a second he distracted himself before the indigent, probably a madman, who shouted in the direction of the sky. Moving the extremities savagely, they ended up making eye contact.
His eyes had lost all trace of sanity, containing the purity of a madman who lost hope. Similar to two ponds in stillness.
"Eyes like wells." He murmured with a strong pain striking him in the temple.
In his memories there also existed another deeply buried memory, blurry and intangible. There was another figure very different from Amazías.
Suddenly, he awoke. He was shocked on the ground, with his body resting on the side of the street.
With difficulty he got up, still disoriented from having lost consciousness without explanation. His vision had turned dark when the headache struck him like a force of nature, sudden and irresistibly.
The demented old man had disappeared.
This damned game is no longer pleasing me. There exist limits for a man, developers! he thought with annoyance and fatigue. His steps enveloped in the shadows that surrounded the rustic city.
Did developers even exist?
He was a knower of the limits of human engineering. Technology had achieved enormous steps, with humanity progressing gigantically with a new technological age, but not to the point of generating another world from a nonexistent space.
The powers enveloped were far too deep and terrifying.
What would happen with Gabriel, a young nobody from the lower neighborhoods, if he involved himself irremediably?
His remains would probably not even rest in sea, land, or air.
Discarding his useless thoughts, he raised his gaze with confusion. His random desire to abandon the vicinity of the strange event had transported him to an unknown zone.
With humble homes with chimneys to his right and the imposing wall that had resisted innumerable bestial invasions to his left. The street was desolate, without any passerby in sight.
"What the fuck?" He murmured with his body tensing.
He had never experienced such a great disconnection from his own body, with the instincts engraved under his skin. Immediately he perceived the strangeness of his own situation.
With the tension pressing on his shoulders, he observed with greater attention the surroundings that enveloped him. His eyes abandoned no centimeter, piercing like a sharp knife every stone slab.
To his left rose a watchtower in its plenitude, symbol of the military dexterity that covered the culture of Bérsaic.
And like an illusion in a mirror, a tall and lanky presence remained standing evoking a strong animosity and indifference.
His eyes were like wells, that permanently fixed themselves on his inadvertent posture. He swallowed saliva with difficulty, doubting what he saw.
It was the same terrifying individual who once, a long time ago in the novice village, had harassed him with his peculiar way of acting and appearance. Who finally ended up disappearing like an illusion in the water.
"You..."
In a hilarious pompous gesture, the unforgettable individual used a soft cloth to greet him. He seemed to want to imitate the manners of a lady, but his smile continued growing in a frightening way.
That small glimpse plunged his body into a disaster of cold sweat, awakening his interior fear to a fatal danger.
But against his expectations, the familiar hunched figure withdrew to the interiors of the guard tower, losing himself in its darkness without offering any word of explanation.
From the penumbra he had emerged with his peculiar aspect, disappearing into the nothing without apparent reasons.
The sun hid behind the clouds.
Finally he had been liberated from the yoke that had cut his breathing for a few brief and oppressive seconds. Similar to the instinctive fear he had felt before the strange creature that reigned over the witches.
He clenched his fists under the heavy sleeves of his overcoat, remembering their first encounter. On all occasions he had been the weaker side, but for the first time he had felt the terror that the mysterious man could provoke.
"This time no, bastard." He murmured with complex thoughts. He had already set himself in motion, advancing at full speed in the direction of the tower.
Probably it was a madness or a foolishness, considering the desolate atmosphere that enveloped them like ink and the oppressive energy that his objective exuded. But he refused to cower.
Once I survived, twice should be the favorite number of the dice.
Impelled by a subtle and unknown guide, he climbed the ancient stone eroded by time, ascending with the skill of a professional climber. Mimicking with the darkness, he rolled inside the hallways of the wall.
With a double jump he entered through the window, hiding rapidly in a corner. It was a common and ordinary watchtower, destined for soldiers who fulfilled exhausting and, many times, poorly paid routines.
The man with the eyes like wells once more had disappeared without leaving traces, nor any type of aroma. He was like an invisible presence, that moved like an echo.
"What the fuck are you? A ghost?" He murmured with uncertainty and sarcasm, without perceiving any trail that belonged to his objective.
With a sigh, he discharged the tension that filled his lungs. He was disposed to risk himself, to finally nothing happening.
His ears suddenly buzzed, alerted by steps that came from the other end. His body tensed like an arrow, with his breathing containing itself.
But the noise only belonged to two common and ordinary guards, who fulfilled their labor.
Gabriel pressed his body even more, striving to hide. Adopting the posture of a living dead. His eyes followed the actions of the young soldiers imperceptibly.
"Have you said that you heard something in the tower? There is nothing here!" Said one, evidently annoyed with the other.
"I swear it to you, I heard it from here! It is impossible that my ears deceive me." Answered with indignation, reviewing every place with care.
"I tell you, friend, you are simply paranoid with the news that reached you from the capital."
"It is reliable information! My brother is a noble son-in-law under a family of officials. He sent me the letter putting his life in danger. A war is approaching."
"Make silence, fool! If they hear you repeating those ominous words, you will end up resigning as a soldier." Said his companion immediately, grabbing him by the shoulders.
"Listen to me, war or not, we are only humble frontier soldiers. We can die tomorrow and it will not be precisely from a war."
Those words apparently awakened the fear in the other young man, who desired to cut his tongue at that instant. Usually he spoke so much that he ended up telling undesirable secrets; like the time he wet himself after a night of revelry.
"You are right, you are right." He repeated while they withdrew, with the uncertainty being exchanged for the fear.
Gabriel opened his eyes, taking a long inhalation. He had been centimeters from being discovered.
He did not desire to assassinate two low-grade military officials at that moment. Immediately it would cover Bérsaic with its consequences, alerting all the authorities.
He disappeared in a black blur, preventing and avoiding the possible patrols through the walls. He descended with three jumps, utilizing his arm to avoid that the speed accumulated.
He did not want to jump and probably break his legs in an embarrassing act.
With the cold mind, finally he saw another passerby in front of him. Although the street continued silent and in a certain form abandoned, it was no longer so desolate.
Is a war approaching?
Bérsaic was a frontier city that in the past had faced multiple invasions.
Lárnac was a kingdom prone to warlike conflicts.
But an even more terrifying thought crossed through his mind, eliminating any kind of reasoning.
Had everything been orchestrated?