Preface

An introduction, a foresight, of what shall come to be in the kingdom of Florence.

Preface…

“I don’t like this, Mist.” I admitted, feeling the hairs everywhere upon my body begin to rise as a clammy breeze rolled past, “You don’t have to do this. We can find a better way.”

“Whyattin,” Mist replied, giving me the same determined expression she had been giving me leading up until this moment, “there is no better way to take than this one. Have I not said that enough?”

“But… there’s nothing here and, if you’ll permit me,” I insisted, gesturing nervously towards the empty looking monastery as I did, “approaching that shrine without any weapon isn’t the wisest idea!”

“And what do you know of wisdom, you who is last of the Mighty Eight?” Was the oracle’s sharp retort, her eyes alight as she snapped at me, “What do you know you who is given freedom once more when others cannot say the same and, instead of accepting the light, remain in the dark? What do you know of what is acceptable and unacceptable for this land when you cannot even decide what is right to do for it?”

“Now is not the time for that.” I replied coldly, feeling a bit taken back at the shot at my honor, “Don’t bring my personal matters into this. Instead, let’s be sensible. Your life is at risk here.”

“And what do you care about my life? About my village?” Was Mist’s instant retort, still staring me down, “You don’t care about any of it. You don’t care about the God Empire, Florence, or its people anymore, not since the emperor broke you.”

“The emperor never broke me, Mist.”

“Oh? After hearing you last night, I and most would disagree with you. If his highness hasn’t defeated you then why would you vanish after this is done? Why would you not aid the revolution?”

“I survived twenty years in the bowels of the worst dungeon the God Emperor could throw at me, lass! Now, here I stand! Do I look defeated to you?” I sharply exclaimed, losing control of myself for a minute at her very nerve to speak her mind in such a manner to me. Had I not done enough for her during my time beforehand? For my homeland? For ten years, had I and the others not fought for everything and then lost everything in the process? Why fight on then? Certainly, I had well-earned my reprieve from war. “I’m no one’s dog, Mist. Do not speak to me in such a fashion again.”

“I only speak the truth-”

“You speak no such thing for you are blind!” I stated over my companion, cutting her off without remorse for she had no justification to speak, “You do not see nor want to! The Mighty Eight did their fighting thirty years ago as, being one of them, did I! No one aided us then! No one supplied us with resources, men, or even respect… Not until our defeat that was and look how much help they were to us then!” Yes, my words were true in a sense. They were foolish though for they were fueled by my frustration and anger got no one anywhere. My present choice of thinking was selfish. It made me think of the past twenty years and not of the future that mattered so much more. The truth was there in front of me and everyone, those in my dreams as well as not, were attempting to direct me to it. Including Mist who, remaining determined, spoke her mind again without doubt.

“No, Whyattin… It is you who is blind.” She honestly looked ready to cry. It was then that a distinct sound " one that we couldn’t ever hope to make " shook the settings. As small rocks rolled down from their places nearby, we knew at once that the tremor was due to a growl. The growl of some indescribable creature. No, it was the growl of what we had come to face, of what resided in the shrine cut from the mountainside and Mist was preparing to meet with. Reminded of her purpose, she turned away to resume her stride towards where I wished her not to go.

“Mist!” I hissed after her in partial panic, “Don’t! We need to-”

“No, last of the Mighty Eight, no!” Mist yelled back, not holding back, “In fact, you’re not even one of them anymore! You said so yourself last night; where they once were, only a lone shade remains!” With that she jabbed at me, “Just go and leave! You don’t care about me nor anything else but that girl you brought here! You just want to cure her of her injury she inherited while saving you to settle your debt with her! Then you can disappear without a guilty conscious, right? Well go and do that! I can do the rest of what is required from here!” The idiot! The nerve! However, why was I surprised at her attitude?

I had learned a long time ago that once you were a hero, you were always a hero. You were no different than a commoner really. If anything, you were completely different in the negative sense. Everyone relied on you for aid, advice, even salvation and if you, like myself, didn’t do such or continue doing such… no one respected your name when dead! Regardless, that didn’t mean I presently lacked a heart. I cared about plenty. Such as, now, my harsh views didn’t mean that I wanted to lose the Mighty Eight when I did or that I wanted Lyndis to pass on or that I wanted the empire of Florence to burn or even that I wanted to leave Mist to face the unknown alone! No, my point was that this world could do enough on its own without me! Couldn’t it?

As I had met them before Mist, the revolution had its own present time champions to lead it. Not I, a relic of the past. Yet, was that as so as I thought it? Didn’t something inside me, like everyone along with everything else, disagree? During my twenty years there underground, did the supposedly “righteous rage” I had inherited within the prison blind me now? By running away - by giving up on the world entirely with my job half-done - was I broken as well as blind as said? No but yes. Yes but no. My how the world had become so much more troublesome during my absence.

“Now is not the time for this, Mist.” I said, trying to resume my collected composure, “We need to rethink this. We need to find another route and not just walk into that guardian’s front door.”

“By Heaven’s blessing, Whyattin! Have some faith in something for a change! Trust me!”

“I wish I could. I truly do.”

“No, that’s not good enough! Trust in me, Whyattin! Trust in Florence! Don’t be so blind!”

Seriously, I truly wished to have a clear mind and take that leap of faith I did when bringing Lyndis across the plains to Mist for help. At the very moment, I wished there were a lot of things I could do as well as a lot of things that hadn’t happened to bring me to the situation I was at. Nevertheless, the decision to believe was instantly ripped out of my hands when another growl, closer this time, sounded out. As boulders crashed to the ground close by, as the wind picked up in power, a sharply clawed fur paw stepped out of the shrine’s shadowy entrance. Then, it became obvious to the pair of us that we were not going to bring the guardian of the stone shrine outside… he was going to come out to us himself and, in the blink of an eye, the creature had made his way into the open. There the massive, darkly colored wolf with griffin wings - perhaps the last of the demonic “Grifwol” race - eyed us through the falling snow with his fangs bared in our direction. Yes, it now was made plain why Mist’s fellow villagers hadn’t dared approach the temple. Nevertheless, giving me a last spiteful glare, she didn’t hesitate in closing the distance between herself and what had shown itself. To show me up, she was going to get herself killed! In turn, through my apprehension, I tensely shouted after her which repeated through the snowy air.

“MIST!”

Author's Note

Again, very religious ahead. Hope you like the preface here. I know I enjoyed writing it.

Reviews

[Peach]

It's really fun to read and it's entertaining. Keep it up.