Traverse The Fog

Lilie watched Cyrus leave, nearly chuckling at the sight. His slow steps and almost lackadaisical demeanor perfectly matched his unkempt hair. Yet, there was something there. Hidden underneath those tangled black locks were those clear steel-blue eyes, always searching and constantly examining his surroundings. Such a gaze stood in stark contrast to many people in Avalorn, who were content to idle by as life moved on, the exact definition of a 'foggie,' aimless as the fog outside these walls.

And personally, she liked those eyes. Still, it wouldn't kill Cyrus to groom himself properly. However, as soon as the door closed, her father's gentle voice lifted her out of her reverie.

"Little Flower, what are your thoughts?"

Lilie turned to him and rolled her eyes. He was cramming berries into his mouth again. "What do I think?" She huffed and crossed her arms. "Father, you look like a treesqueak right now."

Cheeks bulging, Cosan stopped his rather unbecoming actions and swallowed. "What? I like sweets."

"The Lord of Avalorn, everyone," she sardonically said with a wave of a hand. "Grandmaster mage."

Despite her tone, she pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away those invisible berry stains on his face.

Cosan smiled. "You haven't answered the question, Little Flower."

She fell into quiet contemplation. What did she think? Who in their right mind would risk their life for a group of strangers? And yet, when she recalled his excitement when she told them of The Wayfarer's heroic deeds...

"I see it in his eyes," She began. "He would ask questions of how Avalorn was faring while expressing dissatisfaction with how low our numbers were." A pause to articulate her thoughts. "And I think I believe him. If what he said was true, then his 'fow-tows' and 'cam-er-ra,' it could not only help if we somehow find this world he mentioned, but the stories could motivate others to become Wayfarers."

Cosan tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We lost twenty-five members last year with no new gains," he said, sighing tiredly. "Master left me with quite the challenge."

Lilie restrained the scoff building in her chest and instead crossed her arms. To her, Eolas should never have built Avalorn in the first place if he cared so little about it. Better to hide in some godforsaken place and continue his experiments for all eternity. But that wasn't here or there.

The grim reality was that The Wayfarers were in dire straits. Therefore, Lilie was adamant about Cyrus' induction, for he could potentially become Avalorn's greatest asset through exposure. But that didn't mean she wasn't realistic about it. It would take some time, and success wasn't guaranteed, but what was stopping them? Danger? There was always danger. Both out there and in here.

A breath passed between them. Her father then smiled and handed her a berry, which she reluctantly accepted. It was too sour for her taste, but it came from the very hands that sewn her stuffed toys or held hers throughout Avalorn's streets. So, without hesitation, she quickly popped it into her mouth.

Chuckling at her sour expression, Cosan rubbed her head. "And my daughter's professional viewpoint?"

She pouted. Why did she have to be professional?

"It's too dangerous," Lilie muttered weakly, plopping another-handed berry into her mouth. "Cyrus is the only connection to this world of his. Not to mention that he is so far behind in magical studies despite his age. It would take years..."

Satisfied, Cosan smilingly nodded. "Do you believe his account?" He whispered, brown eyes shimmering with a verdant light. "Imagine—a world of blue skies and a bright sun."

Hesitation on her face, Lilie played with her cuffs. "I want to believe."

She felt her answer was reasonable. But such a story was too good to be true. Rather, at this point, her belief only stemmed from Cyrus' strange devices and a cinder of faith. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Understandable." Cosan sighed before settling into his chair. He then rummaged through his desk's drawers, his voice betraying a man who wished for less tiresome days. "And so do I, Flower, but I harbor suspicions. I'm sure you've thought of spatial tunnels, but confirmation requires us to find this supposed cave. Anything else would be a waste of time." —His voice lowered with solemnity— "There's something else. Take a look at this report."

Lilie blinked at the gray folder in her hands. Once she began sifting through its contents, a grave expression appeared.

"A group of unknown individuals within the swamplands?" Her eyes widened in shock the further she read. "Able to meld with the fog? You don't think it could be the Umb—"

"—Lilie," Her father gently clasped her shoulder. "Please."

Heart clutching, Lilie held her tongue for a breath.

"Do you believe that Cyrus..." Lilie shifted uncomfortably.

Despite the light from the fixtures and windows, there was a darkness that settled upon both of them.

Meanwhile, Cosan's energy seemed drained. Slowly, gently, he let go of her shoulder with a final pat. "It would not be fair to assume immediately, but we must remain vigilant." A sigh. "One more thing: a beacon has been destroyed. And it was instant."

Slowly, she blinked. At first, she hadn't understood, but when realization crept up her spine, a cold sweat slid down her fair face. A beacon destroyed? But how? Even if given ten years, she could not mark lasting damage on one herself. Was it a spirit beast? A wraith?

Stolen story; please report.

"Should we initiate a lockdown?" She asked, standing up and ready to go.

Cosan shook his head. "No need. I spent a week's travel on planting that one."

"Oh," Lilie visibly relaxed. She would have been worried if it were a day or less, but her father's means of travel were incredible. And his earlier comment to Cyrus was not an exaggeration by any means. If the environment were similar to Avalorn's, with its gigantic forests, then if her father went all out, a two-month journey could be shortened to a week.

Cosan chuckled, patting her shoulder. "Be as it may, it was most likely a revenant who destroyed one of my saplings. If it's heading our way, I expect more reports of wraiths near Avalorn in the coming months." Slowly, he sighed and stood up, striding before the bonsai tree at the corner. "This, along with the other report, makes Cyrus' story seem less and less plausible."

"But you said it yourself, Father," Lilie said, absentmindedly placing the folder on the desk. "There's nothing hidden inside Cyrus. He's positively harmless."

"So I said," he replied softly, gaze scanning the bonsai's branches for signs of damage.

Before Lilie could speak, her father abruptly turned to her, smiling. In his hands was the platinum Wayfarer medallion taken from Cyrus. Then, he flipped it onto its backside, sweeping its surfaces with his pale fingers. A second later, a glowing etching of a thundercloud shooting a lightning bolt materialized on the smooth surface.

Lilie was unsurprised. It was a common way to discover who or, at least where, the Wayfarer came from. And yet, Lilie frowned, trying to recall something.

"Recognize it?" Cosan smilingly asked, tossing it to her. "You should."

Lilie smoothly caught the medallion and traced the etching with a finger. Where had she seen this? She tilted her head, sifting through her memories, and recalled plenty of city symbols she had to remember through her training, but none matched this one.

"It's not one of the closer city-states," She said, brows furrowing.

Cosan strode towards her and began searching his desk again. "It's similar to mine—a custom insignia."

Lilie glanced at the glowing etching again, surprised. Such was the way of Wayfayers once they reached a certain strength. Until then, most Wayfarers were associated with their city-state's emblem. An easier way to return the bodies if they're found. Still, she could not recall where she had seen this insignia before.

"How about a hint?" The subtle smile on her father's lips tugged just a bit farther. "The last time you saw this symbol was sixteen years ago."

And that was enough. Lilie stilled as she recalled a kind, middle-aged man with lightning within his gaze. "Grandmaster Beithir?"

Gods, it's been so long. Back then, her days were spent dressing up in the prettiest dresses while make-believing balls with her cousins.

"It's good that you remember," Cosan chimed in before sighing wistfully. "I owe Lucid my life for what he's done for you. For Atlas." A pause. "But now that Cyrus appeared with his medallion, I can not help but expect the worst." He then pulled out a sketch of a clean-shaven man with bright eyes sporting a pompadour, flamboyantly sticking a thumbs-up with a devilishly roguish smile on his thin lips. "Do you recognize his face now?" Another pause. "It seems familiar, doesn't it?"

Lilie studied the drawing, focusing on the handsome man's face until a sudden, subtle connection surfaced in her mind. "You don't mean—"

Cosan nodded solemnly. "—These are my plans for Cyrus."

…

Cyrus Wade

A few hours had passed since Cyrus left the office. Silent and pensive, he flipped a page on a book describing the history of the Academy of Milligan. Yet, as he read, he frowned as images of a ruined hamlet flickered in his mind. What happened to it?

There's nothing I can do for now. Cyrus sighed. I'll just need to trust the Dílis family. He squashed the thought and focused on his current predicament and goals. I guess I could join the maintenance department... He flipped the page. But what about the academy?

Oh, did Cyrus know the game.

If he wanted to travel the world, learning magic was necessary, and what better way than joining Milligan's Academy if he had an affinity with a domain? That said, the idea felt wrong. Would he have to fall into a yearly routine, searching through dusty tomes and dealing with other students? Not again.

The thought brought a shiver down his spine.

Shaking his head, Cyrus stood up and placed the book in its rightful place, leaving a lingering sun-kissed finger on its spine.

Milligan Family. He began searching for another book. Nobles.

From what he had just read, the previous Dúndraíocht handed reign to a family of darkness magi with the same namesake. They, along with a handful of other subordinates, dubbed themselves nobles.

And that was not all. According to Dìlis, Eolas did not care about the blatant corruption, and the city-state never had a chance to grow because it was smothered to death right from the start. Those with spines and dreams left for grander vistas, and those who did stay breathed with a tightening noose around their necks.

That was until Lord Dìlis's arrival. With his daughter in his arms, did he force a change in Avalorn. Such as it was, it brought more power and higher standards to the poor while the so-called 'noble' families fell from grace. Still, they remain in Avalorn. These were their roots, after all, and leaving their safe walls to another city-state could end their family.

But who is to say that things have actually changed? Cyrus hummed in thought. The idea of learning alongside pompous assholes did not sit well with him.

But such thoughts drifted at the sudden knock on the door, accompanied by Butler Leal's voice and Cyrus from his musings. "Sir Wade, Miss Lilie is looking for you."

It was time. Cyrus breathed deeply.

"Come in," he replied, attempting to keep his voice steady.

Would she give him bad news? Is he required to take another path in search of purpose?

A moment later, Dílis strode inside, shivering in excitement. She then ran towards him, surprising him with a hug, which Cyrus nearly pushed her away from the sudden touch.

"Cyrus, you're in! You're in!" Her words could not come out fast enough as she squeezed him tight. "Father told me to take you to the department for your initiation to awaken your mana sense. After that, we'll commence your training."

The sudden news instantly squashed Cyrus' aversion to touch. There and then, another genuine smile bloomed across his face at the sight of the Half-Elf.

"I can't wait."