Traverse The Fog

Unfortunately, Dílis told him that she had to run off into the city and prepare for tomorrow. Left to his devices, Cyrus spent the rest of the day reading on various topics that held his current interests. Once the day ended, he retired.

By then, darkness had enveloped the room. Not bothering to turn on the lights, Cyris crept toward the window. Mind abuzz for tomorrow, he stretched, basking in Avalorn's ghostly lights that filtered through the window.

Tomorrow was the day for change.

"I still need to clear my mind," Cyrus mused, soon smiling with an idea.

If he were to calm himself, what better way than to vent his thoughts? So it began. Pacing in the darkness, he allowed his mind to run unfiltered with questions. What domains lie within his body?

"Darkness." Cyrus stretched his arms outward and grasped at the air as if he could will the shadows around him. "Darkness and Water. That's what I want." Of course, he knew that he needed to awaken and practice his mana sense before uncovering his domains, but still, can't a man dream? "What was the process called?" Cyrus flexed his arm muscles against his taut stretch. "'Introspection?'"

It was a rather apt name for what it stood for, for he would have to look within with his mana sense to find his laws.

Shaking his head, Cyrus returned to his daydreams. He imagined himself as a mage who flittered within Avalorn's dark alleyways, invisible and intangible. Another vision. One where he stood before a large lake, shaping the water before him and creating an icy board before surfing into the distance.

Wouldn't it be grand?

With a smile, Cyrus crashed onto the bed. His mind flooded with scenario after scenario until they all stretched into a single blur of mindlessness. There would be no weeping terrors chasing him tonight.

Morning came. Full of energy, Cyrus jumped out of bed; his steel-blue eyes flickered between anticipation and calm.

To begin again.

Unfortunately, it was too early, so Cyrus passed the time by reading a book on local customs, determined to avoid standing out. So far, there weren't outlandish customs that stood out. However, one constant reminder within the pages hammered in avoiding certain words: actor, play, theater.

Strange. Are there no thea—A sudden knock brought him out of his reading.

"Sir Wade?" Butler Leal's ever-stern voice came from behind the door. "Lady Lilie is waiting for you in the lobby."

Cyrus quickly stood up, donned a simple white dress shirt and black slacks, and strode towards the door. Yet as he turned the knob, he paused. "Right. My camera." Naturally, it had to come with him. Once outside, Cyrus slightly bowed to the man. "Thank you, Butler Leal."

The man in question nodded in response. Yet Butler Leal remained still regarding Cyrus with a keen gaze, examining him for well over a minute.

Feeling awkward, Cyrus rubbed the back of his head. "Is something the matter?"

Silent, Leal gave him a curt nod of approval before taking the lead. "No, Sir Wade, I was merely surprised by your bravery. Imagine my surprise when Lady Lilie informed me of your choice." He paused, his expression thoughtful. "And I respect it. Should you require any assistance, either from me or my son, please don't hesitate to ask."

Taken aback, Cyrus then quickly nodded. "Uh, sure. Thanks."

Who would've thought rewards would arrive so quickly? So long as positivity kept coming, he was all for it. So, on they went. Cyrus followed Butler Leal quietly, his mind abuzz with prospects for the future. That was until they suddenly disappeared at the foot of the stairs, and his gaze fell on a certain Half-Elf.

I'm sorry. Cyrus locked onto Dílis, more specifically, her equipment. I thought you were a mage?!

There Dílis was. Ramrod straight, she stood in the lobby wearing her dark green Wayfarer's outfit. Yet, instead of holding a magical staff or wand that radiated ethereal or magical auras, she armed herself with the might of gunpowder.

Two revolvers. They were strapped under Lilie's arms by a leather shoulder holster, followed by a rifle repeater on her back. Yet that didn't seem enough to her. Adorning her hips, a pair of polished, blackthorn-wooded clubs hung to a leather belt while a dagger strapped to her calf shone under the room's lights. Filled with power, Lilie's weapons fit her perfectly as if they were an extension of her body. However, Cyrus could not appreciate her form. He dreaded it.

Cyrus unconsciously swallowed saliva at the sight. How many life-threatening battles has she been in? Did I make a mistake?

Dílis smiled politely, watching him dazedly descend. Yet her gaze betrayed a trace of solemnity. "Did you sleep well? Are you ready?"

Broken from the spell of his trance, Cyrus breathed in deeply, tempering himself. "Don't you know it."

On they want. A couple of hours later, the pitter-patter of wheels over cobblestones slowed down to a halt, and the coach rested on a street near the city's edge. Cyrus then peered through the window and witnessed a building reminiscent of The Guard's headquarters in the distance, though far smaller in scale. And well, it was something.

An awkward silence fell upon them. Unlike the hustle and bustle of patrols and citizens pushing through the checkpoints of the aforementioned building, this plaza before Cyrus remained laughably empty.

I mean. Cringing, Cyrus bit his lip. More resources for me, right?

Meanwhile, despite Lilie's efforts to remain stoic and calm, a trace of an embarrassed flush was still drawn on her face.

"Wait," She said, stopping him as he turned the handle. "I have something for you." Lilie reached into her inner pocket and pulled out a small white card bearing his serial number, name, and likeness before handing it to him. "It's an identity card. It registers you as a resident of Avalorn. From now on, you were born and raised here."

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Cyrus arched his brows but nodded nonetheless. He understood that his unique circumstances required discretion. Still, would it have been better to name him as an outsider? At least, then, his rather lack of knowledge would be explainable.

"Let's go then." Dílis smiled and retrieved a folder from the carriage's compartment. The two stepped out and strode on, their footsteps echoing loudly in the stillness as they approached the building's entrance.

Cyrus held back on taking a picture.

Passing through the double doors bearing Avalorn's symbol, the two walked into what was more akin to a resting lodge than an administrative lobby. And it was a decent sight. Well, save for its occupants. Dozens of resting tables lined the room, with a few handfuls of Wayfarers sitting on top of them. They spoke hushed to their companions, their gazes and tones lagging the pride that seeped from Dílis, replaced by exhaustion or lethargy. And most strange of all were the canaries. They fluttered around and played among this dreary group.

Were they for therapeutic reasons? He watched one perch on top of a bear of a man's head and began singing. Seems like it.

"The receptionist is further inside," Dílis said, leading the way.

Cyrus silently followed behind, taking note of those who acknowledged Dílis with a nod. Yet when he nodded in kind, they exchanged knowing and derisive glances with their companions. A newbie? Wonder how long they will last?

After the resting area was a hallway. The two were greeted by portraits of Wayfayers that lined the gray, cloudy walls. Somber and grave, they felt like final portraits of people now forever lost within the mists outside Avalorn. It was rather depressing.

And at the end lay a stationery where a young, brown-haired, and black-eyed receptionist sat. He was a scrawny man, one who, in his formal wear, more resembled a student. Seventeen years old? Too engrossed in his typewriter, the receptionist had not even heard Cyrus and Dílis stride before him.

Dílis coughed. "Padrick, you have guests."

Padrick jolted upwards, nearly smacking into the typewriter.

"L-Lady Dílis!" He said, his voice full of that youthful inexperience. "I'm so sor-ry. Please, d-don't have me fired!"

Padrick shivered. How had he not noticed The Steward's own daughter walking before him? With a guest, no less?

She smiled softly, hoping to placate the man, but only received a flush in return. "It's alright, Padrick. I just need two things from you."

"Y-yes, yes, anything!"

While handing over the folder to the shaking man, Dílis waved at Cyrus. "This is my friend Wade Cyrus. And he's joining us."

Momentarily stunned, Padrick quickly recovered and clasped Cyrus' hand with both of his in a firm, enthusiastic shake.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Wade. I'm McDonnel Padrick, but please call me Padrick," he said, voice tinged with reverence and excitement. "Allow me to be the first to thank you for your sacrifice."

Cyrus' lips twitched. Who greets someone like that?

"Uh, Thanks," Cyrus quickly said, recovering with a practiced smile. Clear Skies, and as Dílis said, I'm Wade Cyrus. I hope to support my city the way it has for me."

Meanwhile, Dílis hid her red face with a hand, hoping her embarrassment wouldn't be noticed. "Have you seen Wayfarer O'Kane?"

"Instructor O'Kane?" Padrick shivered, voice lowering with each passing word. "She's in the lecture hall... sleeping."

Silence.

"Thank you, Padrick. Dílis sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Please... add in Cyrus' form while we search for her. Let's go, Cyrus."

"Yes, Miss Dílis!" Padrick hollered from behind. "Right away, Miss Dílis!"

Forward they went. The two passed through silent marbled hallways with scant Wayfarers silently crossing by. Minutes passed until they stopped before a single wooden door.

"Ready?" Lilie asked, glancing at Cyrus.

"Always."

Through the door was an enormous yet depressingly vacant lecture hall. Past the rows of desks, a woman lay with her head resting on the teacher's desk, her coat serving as a makeshift pillow. She used her long, graying brown hair as a cover, blocking light from coming onto her face.

Her snores were loud.

He turned to gaze upon Dílis, witnessing another deep shade of pink flushing across her face. It was cute. But he understood.

Dílis could not move fast enough across the room, clearing her throat once beside the sleeping instructor. "Miss O'Kane?"

"Hmm... Huh?" O'Kane jerked wide awake.

In an instant, her desk flew forward by a single kick. Shocked, Cyrus dodged to the side and onto the floor, narrowly missing it by a few inches.

He scrambled upwards but froze at the sight of O'Kane drawing a revolver, shifting it between him and Dílis.

"You won't take me!" With bloodshot eyes, she adjusted her stance, and suddenly, her revolver began glowing with a gray light.

Silence fell upon the three.

"Deirdre, it's me, Lilie." She whispered. She slowly waved her hands, hoping to soothe the older woman. Despite her words and efforts, it took several minutes for O'Kane to relax.

"Lilie?" She shakily asked.

"Yes, Deirdre, it's me."

O'Kane's revolver dimmed before she holstered it. Chest heaving, she covered her face.

"Just a nightmare. A nightmare," O'Kane mumbled.

Cyrus slowly got up, watching the distraught woman try to pull herself together. Whatever life she has lived was one that he could do without.

Have I made a mistake? He wondered, dusting his pants.

Cyrus already had nightmares of monsters and did not want to add more to the list. It almost made him want to rethink his choice. Almost. Meanwhile, Dílis approached O'Kane and gently placed a caring hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright, Deirdre," she soothed. You're in the lecture hall. I'm here for you."

The latter loudly groaned before quickly adopting the demeanor of the model Wayfarer.

"Lilie! What brings you here?" She said with a strained, cheery voice, hoping Dílis would follow along. "Do you want me to train you some more in gunfire tricks?"

Dílis furrowed her brows. She wished to help, but the signs were clear that O'Kane was dead set on the act. "No." She gestured to Cyrus. "This is Wade Cyrus, a new member,"

"Clear Skies." Nonchalantly, Cyrus pressed a fist to his heart. "I hope to do the organization proud."

Surprised by the sight of him, O'Kane was momentarily dazed.

"It's been two years since we had a new member," she mumbled before grabbing his hands with such strength and enthusiasm that he nearly flew forward. "Fantastic. Are you a specialist? A master?" Her eyes sparkled with hope and fervor. "Please tell me you're an enchanter."

Enchanter?

"Miss O'Kane?" Dílis coughed to hide her embarrassment. "W-we're here to awaken Cyrus' mana sense."

The light in O'Kane's graying eyes seemed to have died out, and she weakly released her grasp.

"Oh."