33

Several days pass and the day of the outing arrives. Sion and the others arrive at the designated gathering spot in the academy. Although the time to depart nears, the area is only sparsely populated. The unease got to most of the students. They spot Tenka, and Glenten, and Flan, and others like them where it would be strange not to see them act without fear. And with only students like that, there are only twenty of them in attendance, smaller than even a normal class. Multiple teachers are already there, and as the time for departure arrives, it appears that the only one left to wait for is Rebello Faegen. He arrives while drinking out of his gourd. He pulls it from his lips and starts to address the group.

“First things first, I got ‘special permission’ to drink during this, so nobody should complain to Headmaster Mirus about it. Beyond that, we’ll get in several carriages we’ve prepared, and it should only take an hour or two if we use them.”

Everyone follows after Rebello and gets into carriages. As he said, soon after departing, they have already reached the spire.

The spire is an ancient structure, yet so far beyond what humanity is capable of. The stone reaches impossibly high, the tip just brushing against the clouds. Though plant life has begun to grow, clinging to the sides of the spire, the stone walls show no signs of wear, as though the building were built only a day prior rather than millennia. The grass surrounding the spire seems greener, more lush, somehow, as though life itself pulses from the spire. A makeshift fence cordones the spire off from the rest of the world. All the students, their first time laying eyes on such a structure, pause in awe. Their teachers guide them, ushering them into a nearby white tent.

The tent is large enough to accommodate the whole group. Despite that, among the loose papers and mysterious tools, there is only a single man standing there. He is thin and pale, his back hunched over and his body hidden within a labcoat. His head is topped with scraggly silver hair, his dark eyes tired. Despite his apparent lethargy he speaks with as much cheer as he can muster.

“Welcome, students of Sagax. My name is Sar, and I have been chosen by the other researchers to be the representative and receive you all. Though I believe that you will go on to the other tents, and speak with some of the other researchers, I was chosen to be the first. For this reason, before presenting my own research, I will explain our overall purpose here. We researchers, you see, are seekers of the truth. It is known that those of the Divine Era were far beyond us, that in tens of thousands of years we have not again reached their heights, and as such we believe they know more of the truth than us. We have decided to camp out near this spire and research, hoping to find some clue towards the truth.” Sar pulls a chair close to him and sits down. “My apologies, everyone. I have been rushing around quite a bit these past few days, and it seems it has taken a toll on my legs. Now then, my own research. First, a question. Can anyone tell me the origin and nature of monsters?” Sion raises a hand. Sar smirks almost imperceptibly when he looks at him. “Yes, you, the tall one.”

“Monsters are the creations of the human-hating gods, their tool for harming humanity after the Pact of Heavenly Isolation went into effect. This is the reason that many monsters cannot be allowed to live where they might come into contact with people, because otherwise they’ll just attack.”

“Yes, inasmuch as the reason I am here and not somewhere else, that is correct. However, there is more to it than just that, does anyone know?” Emboldened by Sion, Anima raises a hand.

“There are two kinds of monsters. The first are the ones created by gods, and the second are ones that spring up naturally from the first kind. For some categories of monsters, like goblins, this doesn’t mean anything, but in others, like demidragons, there are a lot of different dispositions when it comes to aggressiveness.” Sar chuckles.

“What bright kids have gathered today. It’s… heartening to know that my research isn’t for nothing. Moving on, my research. As you likely guessed, I research monsters. By coming here, I hope to discover more of their origin, of their essential nature, and what differentiates us and them so greatly. In short, at the moment I am engaged in research looking to the furthest reaches of the past to learn more about where monsters draw their strength. As you likely know, the source from which monsters derive their power seems wholly dissimilar to humanity. My hope is that by discovering and understanding this opposition, monsters will become at least just slightly less threatening. Indeed, I hope that my work brings about a revolution of sorts, but I suppose that must be true for every researcher. However, while I would love to have been able to discuss it all with you, I have no results as of yet. This study of mine began no more than a month ago, and I haven’t yet been able to find anything of note. Of course, that is how research sometimes goes, so you might find the other researchers’ presentations a tad more interesting. However, before I send you off to them, I am to tell you of the spire itself. To begin—”

Suddenly, without anything to cause it, Sion feels a familiar burning pain behind his eyes. Sion grabs at his temples with the sudden onset of the headache. He can only stand there shuddering, his pain and distress all the more palpable due to his great height. Anima, Scima, and Eva, all beside him already and familiar with the condition, all turn to face him with worry. However, Sion alone, unable to tell anyone, knows the circumstances to be different this time. His pain has a different source altogether. Rather than the corrupted blue slate appearing before him, he has a much stranger vision.

Although he knows himself to be in the tent, Sion sees the view of the spire from the makeshift fence overlaid. His peripheral vision is distorted, warping strangely, as though he is not meant to see what lies beyond that which is in front of him. And in turn he feels no urge to look at the rest of the world, as though it were empty except for him and the spire. At the foot of the spire is what appears to be a great mass of pure magic. However, as it steps into Sion’s limited field of view its true form is revealed. Out from the mass of magic, the pure force given form, steps an older gentleman. Although he’s far away from Sion, Sion can see a complex mixture of weariness and joy on his face, the portrait of a man who suffers greatly every day yet searches for his own contentment regardless. His armor gleams like gold, a beautiful and warm shine encasing his kindly demeanor. Although even now Sion’s head is pounding, when he looks upon this strange armored man he feels a sense of tranquility.

As suddenly as it began, the pain in Sion’s head subsides, and the strange vision before him fades away. However, rather than in the tent where he knew he was, Sion finds himself staring out at the spire, right at the fence. The knight he saw is nowhere to be seen, and neither is the great mass of magic that clung to him.

Inside the tent, they had seen Sion walk outside, and Sar moved on with only a slight worry.

“It seems he needs some fresh air. I would recommend that one of the teachers goes to him soon. You see, as I was about to explain, there are several strange features of the spire. First, fifteen years ago this strange monster appeared and began slaughtering anybody who dared to approach the spire. This is why it’s important to have everybody accounted for. This has greatly stalled research, as although it was only the first floor we could access, there was a treasure trove of research materials within. However, this monster seems to have a set range that we can circumvent using flight magic or summoned monsters. Although it seems the entrance to the tower shut when the monster appeared, we can still access the very top of the spire at least. Alright then, I believe it is time for you all to go on to the next tent.”

The students and teachers of Sagax file out of the tent, leaving Sar alone at last. Once the tent is empty, Sar waits a few moments. Then he begins to cackle. He begins to monologue to himself from the excitement of it all.

“How wonderful! Did My Lord know that such a day would come? Is that why he instructed me to remain here? Perhaps this will finally put that damnable Gitsung in her place! To rid My Lord of that thorn in his side who twice prevented our plans, to prove myself greater than Gitsung, nothing could be more wonderful! At last Gitsung will no longer be able to attach herself to My Lord, her make-believe power no longer necessary with my forces at the ready! That boy is certainly the strongest of the four! When he falls the rest should follow! And so the test shall begin with him! Nay, a boy so foul does not deserve the honor of facing my creation. The other one will have to do… Revenge against that boy! Revenge against Sagax! And for the princess to fall into our hands so easily! My Lord will be pleased and again the supremacy of my weapons will be on display! As it once were, there shall be no room beside him but for me!”

Sar, or Hyrtan, as it stands, walks over to the back of the tent. He bends over and grabs at the edge of a white sheet covering something. Behind him, filling the tent, several figures appear. Some are indistinguishable from a typical human, others plainly grotesque, but as they regain their bearings and realize where they are, all of them kneel in deference to their summoner.

“It is time! The war shall begin here, on my order! My Lord’s will shall be done!”