Apocalypse Reborn: Interlude: Ilych: If

Interlude: Ilych: If 

(Currently Semicanon, still refining the concept. Read at own risk.)

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Commissioned by Ichypa

Wordcount: 2500

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There are words in the back of my mind.

Words that I do not understand.

Words that I can never comprehend.

Words that can never reach me.

But while words do not reach me, I see something else.

Faded figures. Wisps that only I can see. Ruins made whole.

I see the past come to life before my eyes, like wind made solid, and I feel its desires and wishes for me with my eyes and senses, even though its words were incomprehensible.

I felt its lament.

I felt its despair.

I felt its determination to fix all that is wrong with the world.

With all that known to me, the moment that I could do so, I picked up the sword and began to swing it as it showed me how. I set myself towards training how it told me to train. Whatever I ate, it was gestured at by the wind, and I ate even when my stomach felt full to bursting or stopped even when it felt empty. The books it told me to read, I read, and I learned all that I could from my father and the others continuously fighting in the world.

I learned.

I trained.

I fought.

I killed.

Slowly, the lessons with the blade shortened, the foods necessary lessened, and the wind’s intent faded with time. As long as I kept training, as long as I followed the path before me, it said nothing besides gentle encouragement for me to move forward.

To help my father and Khanrow achieve their dream of finding and laying claim to a Citadel.

And so, I devoted myself to my purpose, to help the creature only I could see, and who showed me the glories of the past whose end it did not know.

Others thought that I was crazed, that I knew nothing, but in the end, I fought something that they could not imagine.

A world filled with glittering crystal spires, flying vehicles, and all peoples living in harmony beneath a tower greater than all the Citadels combined. They lived lives of plenty, felt no hunger, and did not fall ill. The Ancients who my father praised were a people that I could see with but a thought. I saw  their daily lives, the wonders they built, and the society they created, before their lives were suddenly, completely snuffed out.

I trained and fought to return the world for what it was meant to be… and to fight against what ended it long, long ago.

All this time, I prepared myself to fight alone, to learn, to adapt, and to take my father and Khanrow’s place in the future.

Perhaps even siring children in hopes of passing my gift along.

However, my lament was for naught.

The moment Jack proved his worth, the winds clung to him, and urged me to protect him with all its might.

Not because he was a child, but because of the blazing intellect in his mind, the eyes of a man full grown in his gaze, and a charisma beyond him.

The winds believed him to be like me, but different.

My mind was gifted and linked with a fragment of the spirit called upon by the Ancients.

Jack, meanwhile, was somehow given the body of one… or the spirit of one.

The winds linked us together with the intent to remake the world it once knew.

And, I welcomed another to help me.

…

With a single swing, I cleaved through the horse’s torso, its spine, and then its head and rider both. Halfway bisected by my upward cut, the creature burst before my very eyes, and showered me in blood and gore.

Or, it would have, if the blade I wielded did not sup upon it.

The winds urged me to swing at my back, and so I did, and another mounted man gave out a scream of pain while he and his horse perished.

“Monster! Perish here!” One called out to me, but three came with him. A diamond formation. The first intended to taunt, the other three meant to kill, with the last trailing behind them to kill me even at the cost of his comrades. They rushed at me with long lances. The tips had multiple blades and barbed points, meant for giant monsters to tear themselves apart by ripping the weapons from their bodies. “Die!”

“No.”

I threw my blade upon them like a spear, it crashed through and bisected the leading rider, and smashed into the one trailing behind. Its speed spent, the blade only stabbed halfway into the man.

The shock of the attack did not stem the others, but it was too late for them.

I had run after my blade, the length of my legs, and the strength of my form allowed me to pounce after my blade and barely lag behind.

My armored hands crashed into the helmeted skulls of the two riders, as I used the leading man’s horse as a stepping stone.

The spine of the horse broke beneath my fully-armored weight, while the two lancers were felled from their steeds by impacting against my fists at full speed. Only the faintest strain registered on my body. My lineage, my training, my understanding of my power, and finally all the tools that I had… all of it culminated into rivaling my father, even before I attended the Academy.

I swung the corpse of my blade and looked upon my works.

A whole division of cavalry felled by me alone.

Thirty men dead or mortally injured, while a few of their steeds remained alive.

It was brutal and terrible work, but the day we lived in was one where a quick death was a mercy.

I looked upon my work and offered all that perish a nod, before setting forth to find another slew of foes to fight.

In my wake was death and destruction, but ahead lay a path that would echo the grandeur of the ancients.

A path that seemed ever closer with Jack at the helm.

…

The whole village was filled with joy. Barrels of preserved fruit was served, alongside freshly hunted deer, and horses lamed by the battle. Soldiers congregated around pits where they ate side-by-side with their fellows, served by maids from the town, who giggled and smiled when the men called for them. There were rules and punishments for forcing oneself upon them, but they were forced to bath, to wear uniforms, and to conduct themselves as men… after already saving the town.

There was little chance for punishment… especially the reserves of wine were being shared by our liege.

“You all fought hard today, so it’s only right to celebrate! For our dead friends, and for our fallen foes both!” Jack sat in prominence over the celebration. The mayor of the town, clad in furs and sweating beneath a large purple hat, could hardly compare to our leader in riding leathers and a pure white shirt. Some maids stared at him, dreaming not only of a being a concubine for luxury, but a glare had them scurry quickly away. He did not notice their voracious gazes. The winds impishly hung on his shoulders, but I paid no heed to its teasing. “Oh, and here’s a little present, starring our own drummers and trumpeters who you all love so much!”

Many a jeer came forth from the common soldier, while those assigned to wake them and drum them into battle came forth. They were in uniform like all the other soldiers, freshly cleaned, but their usual instruments were gone and replaced with an array of others. I realized that long ago Jack had asked father to make sure all the ones using instruments could hold a tune and play another.

Just as I finished the thought, a cheery melody began to flow through the makeshift festival.

Roasted food.
Beautiful women.

A pleasant tune.

After all, their harsh lives in warbands, and after tiring from so many battles and marches, those three things alone were more than enough for a raucous applause to rise from amongst the soldiers. The chattering previously was completely replaced by camaraderie and a barrage of joyous voices. Some cried and drank to their missing comrades, others cheered at their luck, and more raised toast after toast at Jack because of their rapidly-healing, uninfected wounds.

Father would say this is the perfect moment to push his men harder onward.

Khanrow would use it as cover to do something that came to his mind, never missing the opportunity.

Jack… simply sat back and enjoyed the sight of his soldiers enjoying their victory. A smile he probably didn’t know he had was on his face.

A leader befitting a time long, long past for a people long gone.

But, in this day, he was a nexus.

The center of a great change that could overturn everything, as long as those at his back did not falter and fail.

I was included in that number, and knowing that stirred something within my chest that I never felt before.

A yearning for victory.

…

The newest Citadel was taken by Khanrow and with its union with our own… the winds began to howl.

I retreated to my own room as it shifted and changed, as glimpses of the past became real and unreal, while the sights and smells of peoples and things long gone came before me. A sense I didn’t know I had awakened within me, faintly informing me of the strength of the wind that dwelt within my mind, and it told me that it grew in strength and power with network growing stronger.

Then, for the first time, I heard it speak my name.

“Ilych.”

It spoke with reverence that caught me off guard, but what truly surprised me was the sorrow that filled it.

The creature that I knew as long as my father formed into a woman of unearthly beauty and grace, her form fading in and of reality, whilst clad in hybrids of gossamer silk and clouds. Her peerless beauty was marred by cracks on her form, missing limbs, and chunks of her body broken to reveal gears of gold and brass struggling to move within her form.

The spirit forged of the Ancients that found me thus spoke:

“A terrible evil is coming. The destroyer of my masters approach. Power must be taken, all the new magics mastered, and the continent entire forged into a machine of war.” The Wind spoke to me in my people’s tongue, and I almost knelt in surrender as the most terrible of legends became reality. “Yes. Those of ash and flame are rising from their slumber. They will kill all life and scour all from the world with the flame of stars. Only the unity of this land, the conquest of all Citadels, and the power of all peoples now will be able to stand against them.”

I spoke for the first time in days.

“What must I do now?”

My future planning was poor. I made a better warrior than a general. Though I can see the flame of momentum and flame it in the battlefield, I could not as easily sway the hearts and minds of soldiers in battle. I was a tool to be wielded by the Winds for the sake of a brighter future, and Jack was the mind that would guide all others to its will.

“You need more power, whether gained through means ethical or otherwise.” The form of the wind shifted, returning to mere wind simulating the form of its true self. The visions of the long-forgotten past faded away as well. “In the Academy, you will do all that you can to aid Jack in gaining allies. Those who will not join him must perish.”

“It will be done.” I knew little, but I knew that this world was not meant to be a slaughterhouse. Not a place where children scrounged through corpses for scraps of leather. Not a place where the sword decided the fates of so many. Not a place where warlords astride horses should rule over countless others. For but a fragment of the peace that I saw, I was willing to do anything. “I will do whatever it takes.”

The winds reached for me and for a brief moment I felt her “touch” on my cheek.

But it soon faded, as the Winds faded too.

“Go. It will be years before I can become but vapor again your vision. But go now knowing that… and forge the future into something better, please.”

She faded into nothingness.

No words I could not understand.

No visions of the past made real.

Only the knowledge of the truth and what I needed to do to prevent the end of all things, as well as grasp a peace that everyone yearned for.

I moved onward with all that I had left.

…

“I need more power.”

My father went still at my words, and his gaze upon me was filled with a multitude of emotions. Pride that I wished to reach for the heights of legends. Sorrow, because I was born and shaped by a world of violence and pain. Then, finally, the determination to help me with all that he could give.

“The Academy will handle a lot, but you’ll need to do more. In your spare time, you’ll want to hunt down bandits and the like, or maybe take on the few warbands still hanging around.” Riegert did his best to pretend to be calm, but there was an ache in his voice that he could not hide. The metal of his gauntlets also screeched as he ground them to dust in his clenched fists. He was telling his daughter to kill and slaughter for the sake of strength. “I’ll look for things that might be of use to you. We’ve got a few tips… but I won’t be giving you things that’ll get you killed.”

Even though he understood, he wasn’t willing to give me anything that would bring me harm.

I could not have asked for a better father.

“Thank you, I will do as you have said.” I turned my gaze to the horizon, at the end of a long chain of men, and then towards my father once more. There was something that I needed to say, before the cruelty of this world made itself known. “I love you, father.”

A small, sad smile formed on his face.

He knew the truth of the matter as well as I.

I am grown, I am nearing maturity, and I understand the world that I now live in… just as he does.

His hand laid upon my head for a moment, tousling my hair, and reminding me clearly of when I was a child and we stood together alone against the world entire.

“I love you too, Ilych.”

“Mhmm.”

He is growing old and weak, and the path we are now on all but guarantees his death.

All I can truly do for him is to be so mighty that in his death he fears not for me.

Such is the world we both struggle to fight and make into something better.