Chapter 781: Shared Silence

I walk yet I do not know my path.

I stride yet this body fail me time and time again.

I yearn. . . though I cannot name the thing I desire.

Syrion. That is my name.

Not one of my choosing but one bestowed upon me by the one that lurks below.

A pawn of potential.

That’s what I am.

A piece that can reach the end and be promoted. To the rank of Lord.

But is that what I seek? To become stronger?

I gaze towards the face of my blade, my reflection staring back at me upon its steel.

I lift my helmet and see the bundle of energy within.

Ah. . . I am neither dead nor alive.

Every time I think of the pursuit of strength, I feel a sense of desperation. Of longing.

I am aware of another ‘me’.

Perhaps one who owns these memories.

He takes over every now and then, walks towards a direction in search of a home.

I will join him on this journey, a journey leading to a warmth that I am not familiar with.

But with that warmth comes a suffocating coldness.

We have walked many years now, always searching, always in pursuit.

So it is times like this, when I sit beneath the ever dark sky do I ponder.

I wonder if this pursuit is a fruitless one.

Though, even if it is, there is nought else for us to do. So I will keep walking.

I recalled fragments of his life. Ones that he doesn’t remember. Ones of the Halcyon days, of his youth.

Of our youth.

I can remember the feeling when we first laid our hands on a blade.

Oh how we wished it was a wooden one. Our house was being robbed and the closest weapon we had was a kitchen knife.

The one whom I believe was our mother lay bleeding out on the ground. Intruders breaking everything around them in search of what little wealth we had.

From their words, my father has abandoned us. Sold us out to cover his debts.

Though time has passed, the rage still remains. Was a father not meant to protect his family? His children? His wife?

Was a father not supposed to be a reliable wall, a shield for which his offspring can grow up without worry?

Instead, my father chose to abandon us. My mother’s desperate gaze, hoping I would run but my feet were firmly rooted to the ground.

I could run. But how far and for how long?

The chances of survival if I ran were slim. I couldn’t outrun them.

So I chose to fight. To do what I can to kill them so that I may survive.

Ironically, my hatred towards them was far less than my hatred towards my father, the one who abandoned us.

I grasped the kitchen knife and lunged towards the first. I doubt they expected a child to fight. A child I may be at the time but still one with a weapon.

I stabbed, over and over. Even when the blood got into my eyes, I kept stabbing.

I used whatever I could get my hands on. His bones, his organs, to fight back against the second.

Looking back, it was nothing but a stroke of luck. I had survived but I was alone.

I stare at my mother’s lifeless corpse and the memories end there.

Perhaps it was at that moment, the other me wanted to become a good father. One who didn’t abandon his family no matter what.

But a part of me tells me that it’s no longer possible. I had no basis for it. Simply instinct.

After all… I’m no longer alive. I’m a lingering ghost trapped in this coffin of steel.

###

I’ve noticed a woman observing our actions. Sitting off in the distance, observing.

She doesn’t say anything and neither do I.

But I feel a sense of familiarity with her. Perhaps they belonged to the same order.

Though I do not recall ever seeing her face.

It’s been more clear as of late. The memories are coming back faster and she’s keeping an especially close eye on us.

I feel a sense of foreboding but at the same time, perhaps it’s a sense of excitement. An omen that things are about to change.

So many years I’ve spent wandering these lands in search of home. So many years wasted.

And now it’s coming to an end.

The most recent memory that I received, of a first meeting. A love at first sight.

Having sought out power in order to not lose things ever again, I had formed a rift between me and the others within the Order.

They feared me while I cared not for their companionship.

Solitude wasn’t suffocating. In fact, it was peace. More time to hunt, more time to train.

Every new wound would be bandaged haphazardly. I set off towards every hunt regardless of the condition of my body.

I was the blade that sought out strength to cut down all my enemies.

Then she appeared.

A curious girl, one that wanted to see what people were so desperate to avoid.

Fearing that my peace would be disturbed, I pushed her away, proving why people feared me, my glare.

I thought that she would scream, she would shout, and then she would leave.

But she didn’t.

She didn’t do anything, she didn’t talk, she didn’t make conversation. She simply sat down beneath a tree near where I trained and kept to herself.

She read books, studied and she watched in silence.

She made sure not to disturb the peace I’ve come to enjoy.

I… Was grateful towards her.

Grateful that she didn’t disturb this peace, thus I accepted her presence. I shared what I deemed precious, my personal space and my silence.

Occasionally, after training sessions where my wounds would reopen, I would notice a small vial of ointment with a note attached. Instructions on how to apply them.

There was no need for words between us. It was simply a show of goodwill for allowing her to use this space, a rare location of silence within the order.

I travelled far and wide for my hunts. Took boats across continents and even dove deep into the Abyss.

I knew that she was a woman who loved to read. While I’m unsure of what she enjoys, I made sure to bring back some souvenirs. Rare books documenting what the Abyss was like, books that covered specific medical research from the west, martial arts from the east and so on.

Whenever I finished my hunt, I would leave a stack of books where she usually sat.

There was no need for words between us. She gave me ointments, I repaid her with gifts.

This silence should be left untouched.

Then she began to leave meals. Once again, a note telling me to eat properly. She’s noticed that I do long training sessions without proper rest.

A helpless smile appeared on my face. But… It felt nice.

Having someone worry about you. At the same time, this silence started to feel suffocating.

I… wanted to share my words with her. I wanted to talk, to thank her for not disturbing this peace. For respecting my area and understanding that I liked this silence.

My literacy levels weren’t great. I could read a few words and make guesses but it wasn’t enough to write a good note.

So I decided to use some of my time for study and she noticed almost immediately.

Usually, unless I was on a hunt, a majority of my time was spent here. But not, I’ve been splitting it between the library.

The next day, my lunch came with a note asking if she was disturbing this space and wondering if that’s why I was leaving often.

She misunderstood but I found it hard to explain myself.

A simple reply, a brutish one.

[No]

A confusing one yet she managed to understand.

I saw her with a smile and stood rooted in my spot. She was giggling, laughing at the simple reply I gave her.

Embarrassment filled my face and I turned my back, making sure that she didn’t see my expression.

It took me a month before I was confident enough to write her a note.

To thank her.

But what was this… nervousness I was feeling?

Was I afraid? Impossible.

Even when walking towards the jaws of death, I didn’t feel my heart beating so hard.

So why now?

Even so, I had worked hard for a month so that I could write this note.

So I began to write. My handwriting was messy, disorganised. The words were barely acceptable, a far cry from how she would write her notes.

Before I knew it, everything was linking back to her.

If I ate some food outside, I preferred her cooking.

If I saw a book, I wondered if she would like it.

I saw a flower, it reminded me of her.

I sat in silence, felt sad when I noticed she wasn’t there sharing the space with me.

I went on a hunt, but all that was in my heart was the desire to go back as soon as possible so that I could be next to her once more.

Finally, I finished my note of gratitude. I placed it where she usually sat and trained.

But she never appeared.

One day, two days, three days…

She had gotten into an accident and was trapped within the Abyss. They knew of the area but the beasts blocked their entrance. They needed to call for reinforcements but I didn’t care.

I rushed out as fast as I could. The fear of losing her, losing a companion that shared this space with me drove me to push my body as hard as I could.

To tear down the beasts blocking their exit.

I saw her bleeding by the wall.

Rage.

I killed everything around us, secured our escape. I cared not for the others only that her safety was secured.

I wanted to say something, anything. But the silence stretched out between us once more.

So I broke it.

I broke the silence between us, the silence that I established.

I reassured her, promised that I’ll get her to safety. That look of surprise was then followed by a gentle laugh.

“My life is in your hands hero.”

Her voice was more beautiful than any song.

I realised it then and there…

I had fallen for the woman who shared my silence.