9. Swift

-v1-7/8

I always wondered why some weapons I’ve seen here are weirdly designed. For example, the Aider I’m using right now requires me to focus on hitting the opponent with the pommel. As the weight of the weapon is located at both ends, if the pommel did not hit the target accurately, my attacks would not be effective.

At least the pommel didn’t hit me. Of all weapons, this is the safest weapon to use.

By the way, my opponent in front of me is a single sack of sand, with a painted face of an angry man. I’ll have to pretend that this is the Undeath. I have been swinging Aider for more than a few hundred times to this sack that my waist felt like it’s about to crack from constant spinning.

Occasionally I heard the same yelling too.

Regan: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I TOLD YOU NOT TO THRUST.”

That’s right, due to weight balance, Aider is not particularly effective for thrusting, but strangely, I’ve been instinctively thrusting this weapon for no reason…

Was it because of that vision?

Regan seemed to notice that and came to me to fix my hand grip. My hand also seemed to grip the weapon loosely.

Regan: “You need a firm grip so you can aim better. Also, NO MORE THRUST!”

Me: “YES, SIR.”

Still, not as brutal as previous training tasks. According to Regan, this training combines my previous effort of building my strength and stamina into a technique of fighting the Undeaths.

But, what if the thing we face is not the Undeaths, but the man instead?

Me: “Regan, have you ever fought against other people?”

Regan: “Yes I do, but I prefer to avoid it.”

Me: “Any reason for that?”

Regan: “Isn’t it obvious? Why fight a few fellow men when there’s numerous Undeaths lurking to deal with? The last thing we need is to add more deaths to the Undeaths.”

Regan’s explanation does make sense. This city doesn't have many people to begin with. A single death here would do far more damage to us than our enemies.

For some reason, I felt this kind of thinking goes in line with my thoughts… Was it from my fogged memories?

Still, if Regan does fight other people, that means there’s people in this place that would do evil, those who fight to do malice.

Me: “The people you fought against… Are they evil?”

Regan: “In my view, yes they are evil, but in their perspective, no.”

Me: “How does that differ?”

Regan: “Hmm, it’s hard to explain, but when we fight each other… When we see each other’s eyes… The weight of their strikes… We both know that we fight for a purpose. One man fights for their master, the other fights for their ideals. It’s unfortunate that our goals interfere with each other.”

Me: “I don’t understand…”

Regan: “Fight is an obstacle, not a goal, Baldy.”

***

-v1-8/8

Anyone who wishes to venture the darkness must become a torchbearer, well, not all of them. Technically a person does not need to be a torchbearer to go outside but chances are they are a deadweight, and it’s a heavy one. They say a long time ago during the days of the army, a non torchbearer could travel to other places, accompanied by many torchbearers, but that’s not going to happen now… Except myself, but that’s a different circumstance.

Done with swinging weapons, I finally got my ‘free time’ after these grueling training sessions. This is not the end of it, there are still other courses I have to do after this, so it’s not over yet. This time, Regan is not accompanying me, which is nice, for once.

I stand in front of the massive bright firestone in front of me. The lights are not too blinding, but it’s uncomfortably hot. I still had plenty of time left to manifest an object, so I decided to spend my time learning how to do that. How? By doing the same thing as the man beside me did. Hopefully I am correct.

Bald, thin beard, yellow robe, and a wrinkled face. Jevannah with closed eyes, standing with their right hand on their belly, seems to be meditating. Looking closer, Jevannah did not move at all, not even a finger, like a statue. Let’s see if Jevannah’s really is.

Me: “Hey Jevannah. It’s me.”

Jevannah did not respond.

Me: “Can you teach me how to meditate?”

Jevannah did not respond either.

Me: “Heeey. Are you okay?”

Jevannah still did not respond. Is Jevannah’s deaf or something?

I tried touching Jevannah’s body, and strangely, it’s cold. Here I am sweating and Jevannah’s cold as ice? I even grabbed Jevannah’s hand and they didn’t budge at all. Don’t tell me Jevannah became a literal statue… That is not right.

I put my ear onto Jevannah’s chest. Thankfully, it’s still beating, but still everything didn’t make sense for the living. Is this truly meditation? I took a glance at Jevannah's face, they seemed content?

Not minding it anymore, I mimic Jevannah’s pose. I stand facing the firestone, right hand on my belly, and I close my eyes.

Then?

What should I do?

I feel tired.

My body’s sweating.

My eyes struggle to close against the intense brightness.

My hand’s shaking.

None of my body felt anything cold.

What am I even doing?

Suddenly, a voice startles me.

Jevannah: “Are you sleeping, or are you simply closing your eyes?”

Me: “...Huh?”

That man suddenly got their life back!

Me: “I thought you were a statue! What are you doing?’

Jevannah: “I was meditating… What are you doing here?”

Me: “Mimicking you… I was thinking if you could tell me how to manifest an object?”

Jevannah: “Ah, I see. It’s simple, you simply state what you wish in front of the firestone.”

Me: “Is it that simple, when you spend a very long time for that?”

Jevannah: “...Regan must’ve told you, huh? To tell you the truth, I was underestimating that sentence before, because for so long, I search for what I want, instead of what I wish.”

Me: “What you want?”

Jevannah: “I wanted to travel around the sectors. But, I was nobody before. I couldn’t achieve anything at all. All I did was stand here, meditate on my own self, and I didn’t care for anyone. My mind was full of plans on how to get from A to B, but full of myself, I couldn’t do anything, because I did nothing.”

Do nothing? When did I hear about this before?

Jevannah: “...Until one time, a man came to me and said ‘Seek what you can’t see, and present it’. That sentence made me realize that I already have what I want. I could travel wherever I want. I simply lack a dream, a picture of me doing the impossible. In that instant, I cleared all my thoughts in my mind, and I made plans for my dreams, that’s when I got my hat.”

Me: “So, that means your travel plans do not manifest as an object, because it is possible all along, even if you were not a torchbearer at that time?”

Jevannah: “That is correct.”

Me: “Then, what is your dream, then?”

Jevannah: “That is the thing I can tell a little… After you become a torchbearer.”

To put it simply, in order to manifest an object, a person needs to state their dreams… Something that is impossible. Now that I think about it, manifesting an object also sounds unrealistic.

Then, what is my wish? If returning the favor by becoming a torchbearer, that is what I want, not what I wish, because it is possible. How do I seek if I can’t see? The more I think about it, the more confused I am… And Jevannah seems to notice my nervous expression.

Jevannah: “Don’t think too much about it… Like I said, empty your minds, and let the inner you show themselves.”

Before I could respond, a shout came from behind. It seems my time is up.

As I bid goodbye to Jevannah, I noticed Jevannah’s shadow. It was large, but something is missing.

***

-v2-6/8

I have one VINES left

If there’s one thing I’ll gain from this training is that I’ll get pain. The existence of pain means my limb is either exhausted or injured, and when there is pain, there is change.

An adaptation of me. It was hard to notice, but it’s a change. I gained a little mass on my body. Nevertheless, it didn’t help much at easing the training session.

I do the same routine as last VINES. I carried matoto fruits with a bucket, but this time, I had to carry the carcass to Bal Do’s clinic, one at a time. Good thing I didn’t drop a single fruit.

Regan also increases squat punishments. Now it has reached a hundred.

I ran across the city multiple laps. I was struggling between keeping pace with Regan who barely broke a sweat or risk falling over. At least when I fall, I instinctively roll, that’ll reduce the damage.

Between those sessions, I had a drink. I mostly talk about my progress, and my hate of terrible drinks, but every time I ask Fervil or other bar patrons about their dreams, they say nothing.

Now that does not seem fair, because I have none, so it’s not a good trade, but nobody wants to share them.

Not even Regan.

Me: “Why don’t you tell me your dreams?”

Regan: “Why don’t you tell me yours?”

Me: “I don’t…”

Regan: “See? That’s not fair for me to share mine.”

Me: “How do I have one?”

Regan: “Are you serious…? You and Jevannah are like brothers.”

I guess bald heads share the same wavelengths.

Regan: “Just imagine yourself doing something enormous or insane, and then you picture yourself in it.”

Me: “A picture?”

Regan: “Yes. The canvas is your dream and you are the paint.”

How come Regan always comes up with anything philosophical?

…

Regan: “There is one more task for you to do.”

Regan points their finger to a silhouette that stands above a building, surrounded by many small houses. Like a flag swaying in the distance, I could assume it was Thorne.

Regan: “All the training you’ve done so far, has led you to this. I want you to catch Thorne.”

Me: “Me? Catching Thorne?”

Regan: “Yes, and I will not supervise you this time either. Use your combined strength and stamina to get through them.”

Me: “But how?”

Regan: “That is for you to figure out.”

I was left alone on the hill, with some bandages and a leftover bottle. Behind me is the bright city, and in front of me is a pack of dark houses. I’ve never chased someone before, but against Thorne, it was an extremely difficult task.

First, I ran towards the building where Thorne stands. By the time I reach there, Thorne leaps down to the small alley. By the time I reached that alley, Thorne had already reached the top of a house before disappearing… And now I am stuck. I cannot find Thorne if I can’t see them, And to do that, I have to climb these buildings.

Houses in these places are quite tall, but the walls are straight flat with nothing to grab into. Coupled with lack of light, climbing in my opinion is impossible, except if I am Thorne. I searched some of these empty houses, and none of them had any kind of stairs to reach the roof.

I even considered going deeper through the alley to find any kind of short walls that I could climb into, but the narrow paths, its confusing direction, and my lack of knowledge of this place prevented me from doing so, or else I’ll get lost, so I return back to where I started.

As I walked back, I remembered the time where I argued about the person who stays in this dark, small house. I wonder… Do they actually do nothing or do they meditate? Perhaps they’re both similar…What would these people do in this dark, maze-like outskirts?

Perhaps I could ask that to someone in the distance, wearing a black cloak with hood, shrouded by shadow. I couldn’t make out their face. That person is walking towards me, barefoot.

Me: “Excuse me.”

That person did not respond, and passed me. I followed that person to ask again. Maybe my voice wasn't loud enough.

Me: “Wait! Where are you going?”

That person did not respond, and passed me again. Something is wrong. This time, I stopped in front of this person.

Me: “Please wait! That place you’re going is dark, you know. How about we-”

Man with black cloak: “Get out of my way!”

A powerful force blows my right face, sending my body to the ground.

What is going on? Why is that person not stopping? Why is that person still go to the dark outskirts?

I saw that person’s feet. It was dirty, there were many bruises, and there’s even an open wound. Any normal person would choose to treat these wounds to the clinic, but not this one. That person didn’t seem to care about it either.

Don’t tell me… this person is going to sit inside a dark house, do nothing, and wither?

Me: “...Your legs are wounded. Don’t you need help?”

That person did not respond. It’s clear, this person did not care at all. Why? Why do such people exist? I can’t fathom it. To live here is a miracle, and you chose to abandon it?

No. Torchbearers don’t rescue people who did not want to save themselves. But to let this problem unsolved?

I won’t let it happen. No!

I get back up on my foot, and then rushes to that narrow alley. I block the passage of that alley to prevent this man from going further. That person finally stopped.

Man with black cloak: “Get out… Or else…”

That person pulled something out of their cloak and slashed on me. I managed to dodge it. That man is wielding a sharp Carver on their left hand.

Then I saw it too, the person’s eyes. The eyes are alive! Its pupil showed a single drop of light. That person is determined to get through this alley at all costs.

I sense uneasiness. This person wants to kill me.

I stand between a path to darkness and a person trying to force its way in. I have no choice but to fight, and I’ll prove to this person that they are wrong!

***

Man with black cloak: “GYAAAAH!”

That person begins by lunging forward. I take a step back.

Then, a series of slash attacks went after me. I take another step back.

Lastly, a slash attack that came out fast nearly grazed me. I take another step back before realizing I cannot do that anymore as my back leans on the wall.

…I don’t want to hurt this person, but I’m running out of options. My heart beat faster as the situation became worse for myself. I have no room left to dodge the next attack.

And that is where it hit me. A loud scream accompanied by sharp cutting noise claws through my left forearm as I instinctively attempt to block it. Blood sprays to that person.

Me: “A.. AUGH!”

I can feel the wound is deep as the pain screams in agony. If I don’t do something, I will certainly die.

If I don’t fight this person, I wouldn’t be able to stop them…

I must defeat this person right here, with my fist!

My pain is telling me to push through, although limited, I can still use my left hand!

I pushed that person back as they were about to swing their Carver to me, then I ran to the right side, freeing me from deadlock.

This time, I carefully observe their attack. With each attack that person made, they let out a scream. They attack fast, and I cannot risk my barehand from another injury.

So I waited. I dodge their attacks by stepping back. Without any wall to stop me, I can keep dodging.

I waited, and waited, until finally that person began to show signs of hoarseness in their voice. That's when I realize this person is tired. They swing much slower. I can read their attacks now.

I dodged their multiple swing attack, and their next fast slash. When the person is about to lunge, I step forward, knock their left hand away with my injured arm, then I turn my waist and launch my first attack.

Me: “TAKE THIS!”

I threw a punch mimicking the way I use an Aider, hitting their skull.

Man with black cloak: “ARGH!”

The impact causes that person to stop attacking, leaving that person open wide to attacks. I use this chance to keep attacking, launching multiple punches to their skull, until the 10th punch, where it finally brings that person down. My finger is hurting from those punches.

I have finally won my first fight. I triumph over that person lying on the ground.

Man with black cloak: “This can’t be it.. Ugh..”

I take my time to wrap bandages around my forearm before hearing a small metal noise.

That person is still on the ground, holding their Carver up, then turning the blade to their neck. What is that person doing?

In that instant, a strange vision blasts my eyes again, showing me a beautiful golden chandelier hanging on the ceiling. I saw the chandelier swaying left and right a little, before I heard a sudden chain noise…

This is our goodbye…

…The chandelier falls.

…

Oh no.

As soon as I regained my vision, I rushed to that person as fast as I could, then I kicked that person’s hand, sending the Carver flying away from this person’s neck.

Me: “What are you doing-”

I saw the man, with long unkempt hair, bruises and blood all over their face. The face of a sad, defeated person.

What have I done? I shouldn’t punch that hard. I shouldn’t force this into a fight…

Man with black cloak: “...Let me die.. Already..”

No, no. I won’t let you die.

I pulled out the remaining bandages to tie their wounds. That man slapped my face, refusing my help.

I squeezed the remaining jellies in the bottle to their mouth. That man proceeded to vomit all of it, refusing my help.

I tried dragging this man’s feet to the direction of the city. That man kicked me, refusing my help.

Why? Why? Why?

Man with black cloak: “...Please..”

Me: “No-”

Man with black cloak: “LEAVE ME FUCKING ALONE!!!”

That man’s eyes began to let out a stream of tears. Voice rasping, nose running, that man growl in noises I can’t describe.

Pain. Anguish. Sadness.

It aches my heart.

Me: “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

That man slowly crawls to the alley while weeping. I considered dragging this man’s feet again, but my hand did not respond, as if telling me that it’s no use at all.

As the man crawls further to the darkness, my hand clenches tighter.

Frustration. Annoyance. Disappointment.

I looked at my clenched fist. It was bloody. It was not my blood, but theirs.

Me: “DAMN IT!”

I slammed the ground with my fist as hard as I could multiple times until I heard a crack on my finger.

Here I am, kneeling on the ground, watching that man disappear into darkness, while I do nothing.

I’ve done nothing but harm. My actions led to the worst.

I am a fool, thinking I could save a person, but it’s a lie. I can’t even do that. I didn’t understand that man’s motive.

I cried one time when I was glad to be alive, while that man cried when that man denied its death.

We are different… Too different.

…

Then, I heard a whistle. A shadow from an alley moving towards me.

It was Thorne. It seems Thorne watched me from afar. Thorne looked at me for a while, without saying a word.

Me: “I… I couldn’t save a person.”

Thorne did not say anything, but Thorne nodded, as if Thorne understood it…

Thorne then began to jump to the wall, propelling them upwards to the wall across, then jump to that wall again, propelling up and up until Thorne reached the roof effortlessly. For some reason, Thorne jumped slower, giving me enough time to copy it.

That’s right, I need to catch Thorne.

I then do as Thorne did, jumping from wall to wall. Despite that, I kept falling to the ground. But I kept jumping up, and up, but I still fell.

But I didn’t give up. If I can’t save someone, then I am hopeless if I can’t climb up.

The final wall jump, when I almost grabbed the roof, a hand reached out to me, pulling me upwards. It was Thorne.

I stand in front of Thorne, who wipes the dust off my worn out cloth. I could feel Thorne’s ‘aura’, the aura of a killer, like the first time we met during the battle. Thorne's hands were warm.

Before I could say thank you, Thorne quickly left me, leaping from building to building, before disappearing.

It looks like I am the one who was caught by Thorne.

When I am at the top, I can see the surroundings. A bright city, numerous dark houses, and a black tall wall, stretching very far, surrounding the outskirts.

These dark houses are the hiding spot for people who cannot be saved. Unseen and unnoticed.

And not just that, I bet there are hundreds, even thousands of people like that hiding in these dark houses.

Waiting to die.

I think I may have found what my dreams are.