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Exhausted, Harque walks down the familiar corridors he’s grown accustomed to seeing in darkness at night, alone, with only the servants to greet him with a bow as he walks by.
He knocks on the door quietly before opening it; being greeted with the image of his little brother, sleeping in bed, with a cold sweat.
Worried, he walks toward Noah gently placing his hand over the kid’s shoulder, who slowly wakes up completely tired. “Noah. Noah?” Harque whispers, lowering himself to his brother’s level. “You were sweating a lot as you were sleeping. I’m sorry, did you wait? My lessons ended late. I should have told you...”
Noah gathers his bearings sitting down in the bed that’s a little too oversized for him, rubbing his own eyes gently in an attempt to fully wake up. “I’m okay…I didn’t wait that long.”
Harque’s eyes gain a sad look to them, one that he has every single time the thought of his little brother being left alone all the time crosses his mind. A thought that unfortunately was a reality, and there was only so much he could do. “You’re not upset I’m late…? I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to be on time next time.”
“No! I was just…sad.” Noah replies, his voice losing strength as he continues, coming to realize his own feelings. “Why didn’t the Goddess restore the El completely? If she’s omnipotent, why does she make it that we need…”
Harque can’t quite clear the rest of it, but an answer comes out of him so naturally. “I believe it’s because the Goddess wishes us, humans, to make a better world for ourselves.”
Naïve or not, he’s always believed that his goal was to help other people. Regardless of their situation, everyone has needed help at some point. Even the most powerful, including himself, everyone in his family; and the least he could do was lend a hand.
Moon magic is known to be the magic of healing. A type of magic he masters. A type of magic that has put the weight of the world in his shoulders since a young age.
But sometimes it feels as if there was something…wrong, with it.
“The Primal El led to envy, dispute, and divide. However, now that the El is unstable, everyone is finally helping each other, making up for each other’s weaknesses.” Noah doesn’t seem really content with this answer, all he does is look down questioning if he could ever live to the expectative of their family’s lineage. “In order to have the will to create a better world than the complete world we were given.” Harque continues.
“I don’t think I have that kind of will...” Noah mutters to himself, grabbing the book by the side of his bed. Harque smiles, placing his hand on his little brother’s head, ruffling the kid’s hair gently. “Huhu. What are you saying? You waited this long for me, didn’t you?”
As if it was a taunt of some sort, Noah’s cheeks flush red and he swats away his brother’s hand, seemingly annoyed. “This is nothing. It’s nothing special!”
“But I’m happy you waited for me, Noah. You don’t need special qualifications to lend someone a hand.” That was, after all, what his lessons were for. But…what were the lessons for, exactly?
“You just need the desire to help. Anyone can do it, even you, Noah.”
Noah looks down again for a few seconds, then shifting his view back to his brother now with a smile. “Okay…”
“It’s okay even if you’re late, Harque. After all, I won’t have to wait anymore.”
“…Huh?”
The room suddenly has gone all dark in Harque’s eyes, the brief seconds of silence between them feel suffocating and his heart starts racing in anxiety. Where he’s been suddenly put in a fight or flight situation, he instead freezes and breaks into a cold sweat. “…Noah?”
Pure shadow mixes with the visage of Noah, whose face feels like a blur in his memory. “You forgot that I died, brother.”
Harque attempts to grab his little brother’s shoulders, only to notice that his hands go right through him. “You forgot the real me.”
“Wait, Noah! Noah…!”—
-Harque’s body shoots forward violently, breaking in cold sweat as he hears Clamor’s voice peaking in his ears, calling to his name in concern.
“Hey, buddy, are you okay? You seemed like you were having a nightmare back there.” Clamor can barely see the albino holding onto his vessel tight, even though he can’t really feel it himself.
Just a glance at Harque’s face was enough. His lips were pale, his entire frame shaking and small as he curled onto a ball; in an attempt of grounding himself back to earth.
The weapon calls to his name a few more times but to no avail, for mere minutes that felt like eternity for both.
“I’m…sorry...” Harque weakly whispers, his breath finally easing down. “I’ve had this nightmare many times before, but…”
“You don’t need to apologize for that.” Clamor adds. “I can…only assume what it was about.”
His more obvious bet is that it was in some way tied to Noah. And even though that was in fact the case, he chose not to inquire, fearful of making Harque spiral further. “Are you… still tired?”
“…No. Not really. We can continue” Truth is, he just doesn’t want to go back to sleep.
“Clamor, didn’t you say the Order requested you made an artifact? What did they want you to create?” Harque asks holding the weapon close to his chest and up, trying to follow a path that’s under a shade utilizing his very vague memories of what Elrios once was in an attempt to find their way to Elrianode.
“Artificial spirits.” His weapon replies, not being quite done yet. “More precisely, a blueprint to create an Incubator to allow creation of multipurpose artificial spirits-” Harque gapes as if trying to ask. “-I know, it’s a mouthful.” Clamor finishes.
“I remember hearing only a handful about artificial spirits. From what I can recall…their form is oftentimes unstable.” The albino brings one hand under his chin, a string of information that felt once long-forgotten slowly comes back to him. “We didn’t utilize them as much during my age. People decided to use magic of their own or simple technology.”
“As they end up scattering from their unstable form, you give them a capsule as a body, so that they can hold themselves together.” Harque’s face turns back to the weapon again, putting his full attention into the conversation. Thinking to himself as he is hit by a wave of realization ‘Oh, that’s what he meant by magical items.’
“If you connect that to a device and give orders, they can move on their own. The device was created to help out where it’s tricky or even dangerous for humans to implement.”
Harque nods in understanding. Even though he can grasp the concept of it, there’s something that still feels…off. He can’t help but ask- “Did you make any other attempts before it?”
“Of course I did! In one of my earlier successes-”
Clamor’s eye blinks rapidly a few times, and Harque could’ve sworn his voice took this joyful tone as he started rambling for minutes, non-stop, about some of the things he managed to create with magitech such as a broom that would sweep by itself or an automatic lamp. He soon found that he and Clamor were very similar, as the spirit explained that a lot of his creations were made to help those who found every day chores difficult, whether it be by a disability or a lack of strength.
He used to create in order to help. In that aspect, they were no different.
Perhaps…that’s what got them in this situation to begin with.
Eventually, Clamor decides to not ask about Noah and swallows back his words, seeing how invested the both of them were in talking about his creations. ‘Maybe when he remembers more’ the spirit thinks to himself
“We’re almost there, Clamor.” Harque finds himself fighting off monsters, so his words come out between unstable breaths and it’s only enough to let his companion hear him…but he’s briefly met with silence. “…Clamor?”
Before he can even start panicking at the thought that something could’ve happened to the spirit, the vessel’s eye opens lazily and blinks. “Wha? I must have fallen asleep.”
“You scared me!” Clamor squeaks as he finds his own vision swinging around, figuring out what is happening.
“You’re telling me. I didn’t think I’d need to sleep in this body.” Still, he can’t really recognize where they are. Nor can he figure out for how long Harque has been walking, or fighting since they’re at it. “Where are we? Why are we here?”
“Still at the hill” Harque replies dryly, straining his answer as he backs down feeling as if his arms would give up at any moment. “But… we’ve reached a manor. It’s swarming with monsters here, so I don’t think there’s been anyone here…”
Harque mentions the manor only briefly, but in reality, it’s what caught his attention the most.
He doesn’t know why. It’s as if it is… calling him. The vermillion red sky gives a sense of familiarity that’s yelling at him to inch closer, in hopes that he’d remember something.
Both shift their attention at the loud noise of metal and rock rattling, and soon enough they find its source.
“A golem? Is something special hiding in this place?” Clamor asks out loud, not really expecting an answer-
“It’s a sentry guarding this manor.” –Until he gets one.
For some reason, it rubs him off the wrong way. “Buddy, I was thinking…how do you know all of this? You’re acting like you’ve experienced this before.”
Everything pauses for a moment. Fight, movement, noise, and Harque sighs.
“I have something to confess to you, Clamor.” He closes his eyes. “It’s okay if you don’t believe me, I know it will sound wild.”
The weapon’s eye seems to squint, but it only encompasses a small amount of the confusion that Clamor is feeling- though he already has an idea of what it is in his mind.
“It’s the second time I experience this timeline. But last time… I couldn’t save Miss Yuria, or the camp. And I didn’t meet you, either.” Harque looks at the golem a few meters in front of them, tired; almost longingly, that doesn’t seem to yet notice their presence. “Everything was unfamiliar and I… didn’t know what to do.”
The air around them that had felt tense just a few moments ago, suddenly turns melancholic for Clamor. If it had been in the past, then he would’ve undoubtedly thought that Harque was lying. But now being stuck in a weapon for a body, whilst his holder and only companion is a jaded man with amnesia who couldn’t even remember his own name when they met, he feels compelled to believe it- nothing felt ‘impossible’ anymore, for the better or worse.
“Suppose what you said is true… how did it end, the first time?”
There’s a brief silence. Harque’s expression doesn’t change, but his voice does.
He sounds disappointed or perhaps, saddened. “I thought I had found the clue I was looking for.”
“…You thought, huh?”
“The sentry…stopped moving.” The albino’s shaky breaths begin stabilizing, struggling to bring Clamor close to himself as the battlefield is now, theoretically, empty.
“You seemed to have more trouble than you did with the monsters…Are you alright?” Clamor inquires; earning a nod for an answer.
Harque slowly approaches the manor’s main gate, and puts a hand on it to realize that it is locked. Without realizing he clicks his tongue in irritation. “It seems to be stuck this time…”
He clearly remembers it being open ‘last time’, so there was definitely someone before him. Though, when he thinks about it- something bothers him about that possibility. Who else could ever be around these areas, searching for anything in particular or at all in an abandoned manor?
“…Hey, can you check the floor in front of the door for me? I see something, but it’s covered in moss.” Clamor whispers, earning Harque’s attention. He then nods once again and inches closer to the gate, and pushes away the moss with his shoe.
“…A symbol?” Moving the moss further away, he soon realizes that the symbol seems to match with other he’s seen across the manor before. “Lift me up so I can take a look.” The sickle requests and immediately Harque does so.
After a short moment of silence, Clamor’s eye blinks repeatedly. “It’s sealed using magic.” The spirit mutters, earning a look from his companion. “Someone was trying to stop whatever is inside from getting out.”
Harque takes a step forward and in the midst of his silence, just as Clamor starts explaining what the mechanism is doing, carefully placing a hand over the gate.
… -CLAK!
CREAAAAK-
“Oh, it actually worked!” The albino whispers, voice filled with a combination of fulfillment and joy. It takes Clamor a little longer to process what happened, and proudly looks at Harque once he realizes. “You loosened it yourself? I didn’t take you for the kind to know about ancient scriptures for a second.”
“Well, I remember doing some research of my own back in my younger days.” Although opening the doors feels difficult at first for its weight, they make it inside. “Something must’ve disturbed the spell…”
Harque hears Clamor say something else, but everything becomes deafened in his ears for a few moments; as staring at the symbols and patterns on the walls seemed to be slowly dragging something out of the depths of his mind.
His head is starting to ache.
A loud noise startles the both of them as they step deeper in, making Harque jump in surprise.
“Oh! The lights came on. Are we setting on the intruder alarm?” Clamor’s voice sounds somewhat concerned as well as panicked, but finds himself calming down by seeing his holder have essentially no reaction to it at all.
“No…I think it’s supposed to light up when there are people inside.” He looks around. Not only do the patterns and symbols feel familiar, but so does the structures themselves. “I feel like I’ve been in a place like this before.”
Not really a quite déja-vú feeling either, but rather something else. Something a bit more private rather than just already setting down a foot in this exact manor before. “I feel like…my home, was similar to this.”
Harque’s vision doesn’t drift elsewhere other than ahead of himself, even when he feels the sickle staring right at him. “It looks really different from last time, still. I had a hard time maneuvering around because there were vines.”
Clamor lets out a confused ‘huh’ sound, his own vision darting around the whole place in search of what his holder describes. “Vines? It’s indeed cluttered, but I don’t see plants anywhere.”
The sickle is suddenly interrupted by Harque’s coughing, who tried picking up a book only for it to crumble away in his hands. He manages to catch a glance of his hands, and notices that the albino’s palm and half of his fingers are dyed gray and black.
“It’s completely burnt…I barely tried to lift it and it fell apart.”
Harque covers his nose and mouth with his sleeve, still feeling his nose itchy but least didn’t leave a burning sensation, so hopefully he didn’t accidentally inhale any of it.
“Here I thought this was all dust because everything’s so old, but it looks like soot. I think there was a fire here.”
“A fire…? Well… now that you mention it.”
At least in the entry, nothing really seemed like it had burned away. But later on, there was an amount of things that were more covered in gray and, in closer inspection, seemed fragile and felt like they would crumble away even with the lightest touch.
“Let’s go downstairs. Hopefully…it’s in better condition.”
If the top floor was a mess, then they weren’t prepared for the absolute disaster that would come downstairs.
It took just a few seconds for the both of them to realize that, perhaps, something else had happened in this place before its closure. Between a thick security system…and pools of lava and fire that remained fully active, eating away at the structure slowly.
On top of that, the place was filled with hostile monsters that didn’t hesitate for a second before attacking that would blow up into ashes.
“Harque! Be careful not to breathe in the smoke!” Clamor yelled, just as his holder curled onto himself in a coughing fit.
Drying away his tears with a sleeve, he stand back up and looks around now that their current area is clear. “The top floor was doing badly enough already. The tables and shelves are all burnt here…”
Maybe it was just the lack of proper light, but the place felt more… sinister the more he looked at it. He hoped, that that was just the case.
“Why are there…no, these aren’t spirits. Why are there monsters of fire here?”
“They must be the reason this manor was closed down. Whoever lived here did their best to keep these monsters locked away.”
Anxiety slowly started creeping up to Harque’s mind.
Perhaps he was just over reacting, but something felt so awfully off about the place. Something felt deeply wrong with the manor, that he didn’t feel the last time around.
“I think this manor was used as a lab at some point. But I feel…like we won’t really find anything with everything in these conditions.”
He sighs and then feels a nudge from the weapon, who’s looking at him with concern. “It’s too early to give up.”
“Can we really find anything in this kind of environment?”
Clamor chuckles, taking Harque off guard. The spirit then sighs as well, finding that he feels nothing but familiarity with this kind of environment himself (beyond the dark feeling that the entire place seemed to radiate in waves) as a scholar.
“Buddy, labs suffer through all sorts of disasters all the time.” He explains slowly, mostly recalling the times he himself had an accident back in Seven Tower. “That’s why any important research material or ingredients will be under multiple safety measures. One of them being fireproof spells.”
‘Fireproof spells’ for some reason rings a bell for Harque.
Whilst still exploring, Clamor comes up with a hypothesis of what could’ve happened in that place. After all, to him, it made sense that magician had entered the manor before Harque last time –and with it, deduced that he must be a magician of some sort, but didn’t state so out loud.
Then, explaining what could’ve been said magician’s reasoning to enter a place that is essentially abandoned and in the middle of almost nowhere, with the only inhabitants once living in the manor on a road to Elrianode.
“So you think this magician was here to look for something? I can see how…”
There seemed to be many things of value in the manor, though a lot of it had been burned. If it was a lab however, then something could’ve survived in the midst of destruction on its depths. This makes Harque think that the deeper they go into the manor, the more likely they’d find something…but something inside him also tells him it’s a bad idea.
Perhaps he’s just being paranoid, if Clamor seems so confident.
“Clamor…Do you actually believe I’ve done this already? I could be making this up.”
Maybe it was just the anxiety building up, making him think things. But the thought of Clamor not believing his predicament felt…overwhelming. As if he believes that he’s slowly going insane.
“Of course, it’s hard to believe a story like that. But there’s really no way to describe or explain your behavior otherwise.” Clamor states, and feels the stare that Harque is giving him. He continues, “Considering the circumstances we’re in, and how you’ve been acting, I have made a scholarly deduction that you’re telling the truth.”
The spirit notices that his holder doesn’t seem very satisfied –or convinced- with this answer. “And, well, my situation isn’t much different.”
It’s the best way he can put it, if not the only. “I’m a weapon that claims it’s a magician from an ancient fallen kingdom, from a thousand years ago, yet you believe me. Don’t you?”
And he knows, for a fact, that Yuria couldn’t hear him either. Whatever is tying Harque to him is unknown, and for all Clamor knows, the albino is really his only way of outing his voice to the world –which, as bad as it may sound and god forbid he ever says it, feels almost like being completely mute in this current vessel of his.
“Well…I suppose so. When you put it like that, we really are two weirdos.” Harque giggles and it causes Clamor to laugh as well.
He may not admit to having someone else with him for as long as his memory lacks, but truth was that Clamor’s company was likely the one thing keeping him sane in this situation- despite both their situations being short from something out of a fairy tale or a legend of sorts from his time. Knowing that he wasn’t alone despite being half a millennia away in time of what was “home” was a comfort he would’ve never thought he’d get.
“But, what do you mean you thought I was telling the truth based on my behavior?” The albino continues to walk further into the manor, choosing to hide away from as many monsters as he could. Clamor blinks a few times. “Well…I’ve never seen someone this clueless of his surroundings in my life.” He feels Harque stop in his tracks and can only imagine the stare. “Though to be fair, you do have your own share of knowledge. So congrats, you’re the smartest toddler I’ve ever met!”
“I’m not talking to you for the next five minutes.”
“Wha- wait, I was just kidding! Harque! Harque, don’t get mad!”
In the midst of ashes and dust, some old papers felt like colorful sign posts announcing their presence between all the black, gray and red. Despite their pristine condition, Harque still felt like they’d crumble away into pieces if he were to not hold them with utmost care. So he sat down to his knees and only softly held the paper in his palms and kept the in place with his thumbs.
“So? What do they say?” Clamor’s vessel sits in his lap, in a position where he can’t really see the content of the paper. Harque squints, and soon feels like something must’ve screwed up with his vision, as everything in the paper feels…off.
But it just wasn’t the state of the paper. But rather, its content.
“Elrians refer to those who are sensitive to El and can harness its power regardless of their race…” For some reason, the contents made him feel a sting of pain that, while easily ignorable, didn’t quite sit right. “According to the jurisdiction of the Elrian Kingdom…what is this talking about?”
Clamor laughs, too realizing that something isn’t right. “Here, read this one.”
The albino shows confusion for a moment before switching papers, squinting at the contents of it. “Put the meat on boil, and add three tablespoons. The softest mana herbs can be harvested… at the beginning of the month…”
He finds himself reading the whole…recipe. Somewhat invested in it, thinking that at some point maybe he could make some use out the special benefits of mana herbs. Then he realizes what’s wrong.
“What? Isn’t this just a recipe…?”
With that, Clamor cackles. His holder looks at him in utter disbelief, almost as if he feels betrayed by being laughed at. “Hey, why are you laughing? Why would anyone put a protection spell on…” Right at that moment he seems to realize what it is. Clamor laughs even harder at the deer-in-headlights look Harque has on his face, as if the answers to the origins of the universe had been revealed to him in just a few seconds. “Did you see it? The precious meat recipe using mana herbs?”
“A misinterpretation spell…” Harque whispers, staring at the contents of the paper in his hands. No wonder the papers felt off, the amount of energy in them didn’t fit a single spell, but rather two or even many. But then that brought a question to his mind that felt… somewhat disturbing. Whatever was the content of these papers that warranted being protected, but also being hidden from sight? “But why would anyone...”
“It’s not really hard to notice these, but only if you take a close look at it. I noticed something was off about it, and figured that maybe you’d see it too.” The spirit confesses before continuing; “It was easy to trace magic since this place has been uninhabited for a long time. And I mean, who would use magic on a useless piece of paper? Chances are, we’ve got something important on our hands.”
Trying to recall how to use his magic was difficult for Harque at the moment, and despite avoiding fights like they were the plague, they had helped in slowly unearthing his knowledge on it so far. Carefully walking as to not make any noise, trying to find more intact papers felt like walking on eggshells whilst trying to avoid the monsters roaming the manor.
Though the deeper they delved, less things seemed burnt and less magic was present.
The smell of charcoal that was near pungent soon started dissipating too, and Harque found himself looking at his surroundings for a little too long looking for anything else that could have magic in it, or was in enough good of a state.
He passes his hand through a shelf. “Here, these. I sense nothing off about them, though…”
“Yeah, you’re right. They have no protection spells, so I guess they’re not that important. But it should still be rare, want to see?” with a little bit of hesitation, Harque then carefully grabs the document that’s a little brittle, probably eaten through by bugs a long time ago.
He doesn’t say anything about the state of the paper, soon finding himself interested in what seems to be a report. “…and a sealed temple was found not far from the lab…” quickly, the albino figures out that it meant the temple they’d woken up in, and with it confirms that they were currently in a lab of some sort. “During our investigation, something of interest was found, so it was decided to be implemented using…”
“A temple not far from here? Are they talking about…”
Harque doesn’t hear Clamor talking.
A door to the past that could be potentially used to experiment.
That reenacted the past by reading into the memories of whoever was in front of it, to the moment they’d regretted the most.
Harque’s mind wanders back to that night… the night where he lost Noah.
Even though it was just a reenactment, he wishes to go back. To go back so badly to see his little brother once more. Even if it were like playing on a stage; like a puppet on a string. Desiring so deeply to return to a point dead in time to selfishly see again what he misses most one last time.
“It looks like you can change the past, but in reality, it does not.” Clamor’s voice pulls him back to reality. The spirit is unaware of it, but a remark so simple quenches that urge by simply reminding him of the obvious: it isn’t worth it.
The albino sighs, pulling the paper away from his field of view for a few seconds. “I know…but for a moment I thought that…”
It’s not the time to cry.
He continues to read, ignoring the buildup of pain in his chest. “The date has been removed though… I wonder if we were found or not.”
It feels highly unlikely, considering that they hadn’t woken up before. Or maybe, just maybe, this had happened even before they were put in that temple.
“Suggestions were made at a later date to utilize the door to replicate successful experiments, but were discarded once the Incubator was brought in…” Harque squints. “That’s the name of your invention, right? How old is this place, then…”
(…Incubator?)
It feels like he’s been aimlessly wandering for a while. The manor feels like a maze and the more he walks, the less it feels like they’re getting anywhere. Wondering a thinking a little too hard if there was a point to spending so much time in a place they knew essentially knowing about instead of continuing to reach for Elrianode.
He believes he doesn’t know anything about this place, until he hears Clamor’s voice point out something.
“Harque? There’s some kind of symbol on this wall.”
When the albino turns around, a sudden spike of pain hits his head and drops him to his knees. The scythe clatters loudly against the floor and startles Clamor, but the daze soon dissipates once the spirit sees the paleness of Harque’s lips and his expression of distress. “Hey! Harque? What happened?! A-Are you okay…?!”
A blur of red flashes through Harque’s mind. An overwhelming sense of familiarity that reeks of hostility. A face that seems to be permanently covered in shadows stands in front of him in what feels to be a very brief hallucination. Yet as it begins, it fades right away.
“I’m..I’m s-so sorry…” His shaky hands pick up the handle of the sickle in a tight grip. “I…I remember now…”
“What? What do you mean?”
Looking at the symbol a second time, it becomes unmistakably similar to fire; and it becomes clear to Harque that the monsters in this place are probably not invaders, and were perhaps born there in some way. “This…I believe, is the house of Rosso.”
Rosso; as a family name, does not really have much weight on his heart. But there’s something about it that does. And whatever it may be doesn’t want to resurface from the depths of his mind, leaving him with only crumbs of what it could or could not be.
“House of Rosso? Is there something special about them that requires a facility of this size?” Clamor quivers as all of a sudden the place feels somehow more unsafe than it already was. “I…can’t remember a whole lot right now. I believe they were a family known to have…Fire Masters. But I never knew they operated a lab of this caliber…”
Clamor cannot stop thinking about the Incubator, and Harque cannot stop thinking about what could possibly tie him to the Rosso family to warrant such a reaction. Only good thing comes out of the bout, and it was how each power functioned, one by one. “It’s not easy to harness the power of fire. So perhaps-”
“-They were researching how to control that power here?”
It doesn’t sit right.
Suddenly there’s this bitter taste in his mouth that just won’t go away. And he doesn’t want to think about it anymore.
“If this lab is part of the house of Rosso, then it likely doesn’t have anything to do with Henir’s Order. We should go.”
Trembling, the albino gets back on his feet and turns around, only to be interrupted by Clamor. “Uhm…Harque. I have a favor to ask you.” An inquiring ‘mhm’ sound is the only thing that comes out as reply. “Though this may have nothing to do with the Order, those monsters could be the by-products of the experiment, right?”
Even if thinking about that possibility felt awful, there were too many things that came with it. Clamor’s main concern was the hostility of the monsters that could very well be result of the inherently volatile nature of fire. Though there was also a morbid curiosity behind his request that the spirit refused to state out loud, convincing himself it was hopefully just paranoia.
“I know you may not want to stay here for much longer…but all this research fall into the hands of someone nefarious if we leave them like this, which could be potentially disastrous.” Harque is then reminded that they might not be that far away from Lanox, which for all he knew, still must have people living in it normally. “And since you’ve already rendered the door useless, the monsters could end up in the nearest village.”
The albino thinks about it for a few moments before sighing in defeat. “I understand. You’re right… since we’ve saved some time, we can take another look around. I don’t like the idea of allowing these monsters to just run loose.”
“…Thank you.”
No matter how much he thought about it.
Whatever that figure that appeared in front of him for a split second, wasn’t real.
But why did it feel so familiar?
Who was it?
Something feels wrong.
And he wants to figure out what it is.
As it turns out, going deeper into the manor soon went from being a safer option to a more dangerous one, where the energy became progressively more negative and with it, the presence of monsters increasing; resulting in an obscene amount of heat on the entire place that threatened with draining Harque off all his energy.
“Is it me or is it getting more dreary as we go deeper inside? More monsters, too.” Harque doesn’t reply to his weapon, and instead hides behind a pillar in an attempt to recover strength and breath for as long as the monsters don’t see them. “This might be their main lab. There are too many test tubes here…” Whatever desk that could be found was thrashed in one way or the other, burnt paper scattered all over the place and tubes full of a liquid of a disgusting fleshy pink color, that were otherwise empty was all he could see. “Do you want to check out the documents here? We need a large space to spread everything out.”
Harque decides to listen to Clamor’s suggestion, approaching the desk in the best possible condition before placing them one by one carefully, still afraid that they might break apart if held a little too hard. “Good. Now, what to do here…” Clamor mumbles, and the albino stares at him.
“What’s wrong? Is this too much work? I could…” He blinks. A few times too many, at a loss. “Oh, not at all. In fact, you look like you figured it out yourself. I was thinking how to teach you to use your magic again to remove these spells.”
Harque’s cheeks flush a bright pink out of embarrassment, slowly coming to realize that he had, in fact, forgotten how to use a lot of magic. A lot of it. What happened at the gate and how he managed to open it in the first place was just by remembering how Yuria had unsealed Clamor, and assumed a similar spell could be utilized.
But then following that logic, maybe undoing the misinterpretation spells could use a similar principle. “What is good, you still have a basic understanding of how everything works.” Clamor looks at his holder’s expression; then turns elsewhere. “Or perhaps...not? See, I’ll try to explain it to the best of my abilities. There are limits to how much magic I can perform in this form. It lacks efficiency.”
‘Alright, get over it, Harque’ the albino thinks to himself, furrowing his brow and psyching himself up with deep breaths in order to pass both embarrassment and anxiety. “Don’t worry if it doesn’t go right at first. The most important thing when you cast a spell, is not the innate ability of the caster, but the will to try it.”
“But what if I cast the spell wrong and it breaks?” Pessimistic at best was sometimes his specialty, and it was something that he very briefly remembers Noah mentioning once –perhaps, it was a family thing- “It will be useful later if you re-learn now. Plus, there’s…” Clamor rails off very fast mid-sentence, catching Harque’s attention. “Nevermind. Imagine, what if the Order appears suddenly, and drop an important-looking document. What will you do then?”
“Isn’t that a little-”
“What are you going to do if you can't interpret 'THE MOTHER OF ALL EVIL DOCUMENTS' because you don't remember how to cast some spells?”
“Well now you’re just making fun of me!”
“No I’m not! Anyways! Let’s just try. Not a big deal if we can’t do it right now.”
A childish pout crosses the albino’s expression for a moment, not being really mad or annoyed, but still feeling like he was made fun of in one way or the other in what was the most exaggeratedly childish speculative scenario possible. In a way it was funny considering precisely how exaggerated it was, but in the end Clamor did hold a good point.
Harque then places one hand on top of the other with just the fingertips with the paper between them, recalling vaguely how to he was taught at some point how to dispel simple spells like this one. “Concentrate your magic at the end of your fingertips. It’s nothing complicated, so just using your own magic to override the spell on the paper should suffice. Don’t think too hard. Just remember three things: Your goal, your will- and concentrate.”
A loud combination of a pop and a zap noise escape from Harque’s fingers, forcing him to pull his and away with a small ‘ow’. Clamor stares at him in concern, but for some reason neither of them really say anything about it. “Now check the document again!” The weapon exclaims excitedly, and the albino squints at the paper once more to see that the contents did indeed change flipping through some pages. His expression soon changes to amazement and, in a way, relief.
“See? Not too hard. It’s just a small step, but soon enough you’ll stop being a tiny magician to become a full-blown elite-spell connoisseur. Doesn’t that sound great?”
“Oh, shut it.” Harque laughs. Subconsciously though, he stares at his own hand, thinking about the popping noise from a moment ago.
“It’s natural to be clumsy and unskilled at first. In fact, maybe it’d be better to think of it as being a magic intern of sorts. As if it were your first time practicing what you’ve read about.”
“Well…when you put it that way… I suppose so. I don’t really remember how good I was at this before.” He re arranges the papers in order and in two piles, those who haven’t been skimmed through yet and still possess spells, and the second pile with its first document with revealed contents. “You get the gist of it now that you’ve done it, right? You’ll gain speed as you do it, even if your magic isn’t working too properly.”
The loud screech of a creature startles them both, causing the albino to grab on the papers and switch sides on the desk to further hide himself. For a moment he’d forgotten the horrible aura that the lab oozed in the midst of his excitement over re-learning and discovering what he’s capable of.
Smacking his lips and exhaling, he further psyches himself up. “I wonder how many there are…”
“Now, let’s check what’s so important that a spell was put on it.”
“Oh, right.”
While reading the contents of the paper, Harque’s hands gravitated toward the next papers of the pile and placed his fingertips on top, casually removing off spell after spell with more loud pops- though with a far less violent hand recoil and impressing Clamor while he was at it. “The first several pages are profiles…they list name and ages. But the birthplaces are usually listed as unknown…huh?”
“Unknown? Why? Didn’t you say this was the House of Rosso?”
Staring at the pages, Harque’s lower lip quivers a little. “I don’t think they’re Rossos…some of them have different last names and some don’t have them at all. Maybe they’re profiles of the researches…odd.”
[A-97 Eris, B-27 Lebio, B-49 Feidan, B-63 Marcan, B-99 Ainen] The more he reads, a feeling of uneasiness slowly creeps up his chest…and a small sting of pain invades his head; but its small enough to be ignored. “Numbers next to names…why would they use numbers instead of their names? Isn’t that…”
“What, like a prisoner number? This isn’t a jail…”
Without a word, Harque grabs another page out of the pile and placed the previous onto the second bunch as to not lose track. “This one looks like a letter of some sort-”
[... We have proceeded with the experiment based on the ones that showed promising results from the tolerance enhancement experiment, but the aftereffects shown by our subjects were not ideal.]
[We will send over the older request shortly. Though we've requested various samples before, based on the 1st stage of the experiment...]
The albino remains completely silent, a drop of cold sweat falls of his forehead clean.
“…Harque?” He barely hears Clamor speak to him through his mental reading.
“The subject with a specific trait showed the most stable results. Further details can be found in the attached report. Report of the following…experiment…”
[Among the 21st batch, A-97 shows exceptional results compared to other test subjects. Displays progress of the research.]
[Control of more variables needed after reviewing which variable could have potentially influenced A-97's positive result.]
“In…order to have the next Fire Master elected before… the next Harmony Festival…?”
Harque didn’t even realize when, but what was just a small painful pressure suddenly became a headache. It felt like his vision would go blurry at any moment; but the returning overwhelming sense of familiarity prevents him from stopping himself in his tracks.
“E…lect? The test subjects…? You mean, this wasn’t just an experiment to control the power of Fire? They actually researched to create a ‘test’ subject they can control? To…create a Fire Master?” Clamor utters his sentence word for word, in complete disbelief, almost as if trying to convince both himself and his holder that what they were finding out wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.
“H-How…why? Fire Master…El Master…? They are…”
Harque struggles to form a coherent sentence, as memories slowly rise from the back of his mind that he doesn’t know where to start. “They…aren’t they supposed to guard the El Lady, and the Great El…?”
“…I can’t believe it. How could this happen? How can they possibly do something like this under the watch of the Goddess?”
Panting heavily, Harque carefully places a hand in the side of his head. Clamor tells him something, but it’s not like he can hear a whole lot of it right now with a ringing sound invading his ears loudly, yelling at him. He hears yelling. And it’s like he’s heard many times before.
“I remember that…El Masters receive the purest elemental El energy from the High Priest during their nomination. B-But, to forcibly subject someone to it before they are ready…”
“Harque? Hey, Harque? Are you feeling alright? I don’t think you should read this anymore… you don’t look good at all.”
Despite Clamor’s concern, the albino ignores him entirely, way too invested, intrigued, as well as horrified in what they’d discovered. A very specific memory itched to come out, and it felt like it had hundred different ones right behind.
[We apologize for the unfortunate news. As we have reported previously, subject number 97 has gone berserk and has to be terminated.]
[We are still in the process of finding the cause, but we suspect the reason is due to the body being unable to handle the unstable fire energy like with the previous test subjects.]
[We need a method to inject the elemental power securely and have it remain stable. We will come up with a more effective experiment structure in the meantime.]
…
[We managed to find a provider wearing black robes and purchased the 'Eye' and the blueprint for the 'Incubator'.]
[In theory, if the fire energy is kept at a consistent level and injected, the desired result can be achieved.]
[However, the difficulty of handing the fire energy is present even when attempting to keep the energy level consistent. This is usually what leads to termination of the test subject during the experiment.]
[The Incubator allows for minimal energy loss, and keeps the energy stable. The stability increased greatly when it was used against the test subjects. It was an unexpected success.]
Like a bucket of cold water, reality starts hitting Clamor as well. (This…this can’t be…)
The reports following the acquisition of the Incubator focused on a single subject: B-99.
Harque can’t stop thinking about that number. That specific subject, B-99, Ainen.
Despite his shaky arms, unstable breath and unbearable headache, he presses forward, inching closer and closer to what feels like a key answer to his past. The only thing he had to calm down was Clamor’s presence, who thankfully couldn’t feel how tightly he held the handle of his vessel.
A high tolerance to sedatives.
[The Incubator was utilized to create the aforementioned effective experiment structure. A system to begin a mass incubating system is in place.]
[According to the background search, the inventor of the Incubator is a magitech scholar from Seven Tower. There is no record of the inventor after the Great Elf Exodus of Elrian Kingdom.]
[Without the actual inventor, it has been decided that the defects found while running the experiment will have to be fixed internally.]
“C-Clamor, I-isn’t this…?” Harque’s voice had become so tiny and anxious, that the spirit could barely hear him.
Defeated, disappointed, enraged…but most importantly horrified, Clamor has nothing else to offer than his sincerity. “Yes. That blueprint is mine.”
“T-Then why…?” Every bit of gentleness in the way Harque held the papers was gone, promptly replaced with a tight trembling grip so that it wouldn’t fall off his hands. “…I’m sorry. There was a flaw in the plan. I didn’t…want it to turn out this way.”
The albino stares at him, directly into the gem that worked as Clamor’s eye. Looking for an answer- begging, for an answer.
“…Harque, please trust me. I did invent the Incubator, but I was never with the Order…if the description of black robes is anything to go by.”
The truth was hard to swallow for the both of them. Harque doubted at first, but then remembered how nice Clamor had been to him all the way to this point. There was no way that someone like him could possibly take part on something as vile and repulsive as this.
“I’m, not saying I have nothing to do with it. It’s just…I didn’t intend this to happen when I invented it. It’s not even the same time period… I was sealed before the Master system was implemented.” Clamor admitted, and Harque knew he was right in some way.
If his memory served him right at this precise moment, Clamor must have created the Incubator 1,000 years ago, while before his own sealing, he’d lived 500 years into the past.
But, if the El Explosion happened 500 years ago, and this name feels familiar to him now… wouldn’t that mean-
“Then how? How did they get your blueprint? Yours, of all people…?!”
“I’m sorry. It was a mistake. I…”
The eye expression of the spirit’s vessel is enough to make all of Harque’s anger simmer down into sadness, paired with Clamor sounding completely mortified and even terrified. “…I was murdered by an Order member. I’m just a dead spirit attached to a piece of metal.”
“Y-You…were murdered by the Order…?”
“There’s no way to regain my body. It was a lie because… I didn’t want to scare you, in the situation you are in. I’m sorry you had to find out like this, Harque.”
Panic pairs up with fear in Clamor’s voice as the loud roar of an experiment breaking into the room, stomping its feet into the floor causing a rumble. A very notable rumble, that was way too to be caused only by its presence. “Agh, it’s the experiments?! When did it get here… Harque, it’s too dangerous! We need to get out of here!”
But Harque ignores him. Clamor catches a glance of his eyes that all of a sudden are full of tears.
[The influence of B-27 led to a substantial increase in B-99's stability. There's high expectation that the mental stability will affect the results positively. Transplant of the Eye determined.]
[B-99 went out of control 3 times during the transplant. B-27 and other test subjects were terminated in the process. Researchers injured. However, the result was a success. Further observation required.]
(“Ahah…Master Ebalon, I think- ack- that we need some of your help right now…” A tall muscular man holding a very small man who is anything but happy about being carried like a potato sack and expressing it by throwing a very violent fit and yelling bloody murder approaches Harque. The same yelling he’d been hearing in the back of his mind.
“I said let me go, Tiny, you absolute brute! I don’t need help!” The red potato sack in question continued his fit by kicking his reluctant captor, who despite his appearances radiated innocence and goodwill.
“What is it?” Harque hears himself speak in this memory, and vaguely recalls being interrupted in the middle of a prayer, but not being bothered by it at all.
“I might’ve punched Master Rosso a little too hard in our training today. Could you—ack—heal his injuries? I hope it’s not too much to ask for…” The man holding Rosso asks shyly, adjusting his grip. Harque laughs softly and pats the seat beside him. “It’s okay, Master Gaia. Neither of you need to be shy about something like this, I am glad to help.”
Gaia mutters a ‘thank you’ before placing Rosso in the seat besides Harque, then sitting down himself. Right after, the redhead punches him in the arm. “I told you to let me down! I don’t need help with a ridiculous injury like…!” and he shrivels up, immediately.
“It’s fine, Master Rosso. You shouldn’t leave your wounds unattended no matter how minor. This is no problem to me.” Harque insists gently, earning a glare from Rosso that soon melts into just a stare of annoyance. With a defeated sigh, the small redhead crosses his arms. “Fine. Just make it quick.”
The albino isn’t at all bothered by his behavior, and in a way he thinks it is kinda funny. He gives Gaia a hand gesture to let him know he can stay in case he needed assistance too. Then, he turns around to face Rosso fully, and makes visual contact with the injury.
It was very much bleeding and it happened somewhere in the side of his head, almost at his forehead.
Harque carefully places his hands near the injury without touching it. A small white light appears between his hands, when Gaia stares in awe at the healing magic and Rosso doesn’t seem to have much of a reaction besides his expression simmering down further into just a small frown.
“We are done.”
“Is that the power of Moon Magic? I see…” Gaia mutters softly, still somewhat amazed. Rosso himself doesn’t seem to find it as impressive however, and thought it was obvious that ‘Ebalon’ was proficient at healing magic. And pointed this out to the blonde, who instead of acting like he was being scolded by saying something ridiculous, acted like a kid hearing about his favourite subject at class as Rosso ranted on and on about how other powers of El worked, along some additions by Harque who just let him go off with it as he worked on healing Gaia’s own injuries.)
Back then, he saw old scars under Rosso’s eyepatch that couldn’t be healed.
Back then, he didn’t ask where they came from.
He didn’t know where they came from.
Nor did he know what truly was under it.
And now, right in front of him, was a visage of that same man.
Staring at him. Right at him.
Where time felt like it had slowed down.
On his knees and holding the sickle that was Clamor, whose voice had turned into a barely audible mumble in the back of his mind, Harque cried, and cried. Apology after apology, pleading to be forgiven for not realizing all the pain he had to endure.
But the visage of Rosso said not a word.
And just like that, it disappeared.
But the world was still going slow and his breathing too fast.
“Harque, please! Are you just going to give up your life like this?!” Is the only thing that he could clear Clamor yell in a panic, who couldn’t see a single thing from the way his vessel was being held tight against Harque’s chest.
“A-Ainen…Ainen…” The albino muttered like a broken record. “He was…I-I was…”
An El Master.
The El Master of the Moon, Harque Ebalon.
One by one, the noises stop.
“I…I don’t hear the experiment anymore. Harque, we should hide for…!”
A loud rumble followed by an earthquake was the last thing Harque felt, holding Clamor in his arms, before the deafening sound of the Manor collapsing on top of them was followed by complete darkness.
…Until, he was met with the ever familiar walls of the temple.