4 Months ago
Axoland, a kingdom characterized by being the greatest power among the human kingdom, in the royal capital of this kingdom there was an immense castle that would highlight how influential and large this kingdom was. From afar, towers were seen as enormous arms attached to the castle, having a monumental structure. The architecture was abrupt and delicate at the same time, with vast walls with the symbol of the kingdom highlighting the supremacy of the Abysscale dynasty, the great royal family of Axoland. Around the walls, a vast garden was seen, full of flowers and servants performing their duties.
The focus is on the throne, which was undoubtedly the heart of the castle, being located right in the middle of the castle. Made of silver metal with gold details, the throne was imposing. Around it, tapestries hung, telling stories of battles and victories, of a nation that had been forged. Sitting in the middle of the throne was a mysterious figure with his head resting on his right hand, a completely relaxed and unexpected posture for someone of royalty.
- Fei-fei! - he exclaimed, biting the apple with even more enthusiasm, as if this were the beginning of something epic. - Are you going to just stand there, looking like an ice statue? Oh, I know you're good at that, always so quiet... Being sulky makes you age faster
Feitan didn't move. He knew that, despite the joking appearance, the figure there wasn't there to have fun.
He, with his calm but firm voice, replied:
- I'm not one to move rocks unnecessarily. But you seem to like playing with them, even knowing that they might fall.
The figure laughed, amused, but didn't give up. She leaned forward, a little more serious, the energy of the conversation changing tone. The smile faded, and she went straight to the point:
- I need you to go to the kingdom of Kitsumi. - Her voice became deeper, although the excitement was still evident. - They've been doing some... ugly things there. I heard they're being cruel to the commoners, and a lot of people are being crushed without even realizing it. Besides, the global commission of diplomats indicates a sharp increase in hunger, torture and immigration; the people there would rather be slaves in Orchadia than live in Kitsumi. I don't like that. - She grimaced, as if she was really annoyed by something, but soon recovered, as if she remembered something important. - I want you to search everything, go to the borders, check the poorest areas. They might be hiding something. And you know what I like, right? I want the truth! Don't hold back, Feitan. Don't be... too cautious, okay?
She leaned back on the throne, with a mischievous smile. Feitan inclined his head, making an almost imperceptible bow, and slowly walked away, with the same silent step as always. His thoughts were as closed as his face, but one thing was certain: the mission had been given. And he would fulfill it, as always, without hesitation. 2 months later Feitan cut through the wind, like a lost arrow, crossing the last village he visited, heading straight for his improvised camp in the abandoned mine. Autumn, relentless, seemed to have marked the land with the cold hand of time. The cracked and dry ground had the appearance of an old man who had already given in to wear and tear, a portrait of desolation. The landscape that had once pulsed with life was now filled with a heavy silence, as if the very soul of the kingdom had withered, diluted in the shadow of death. It had been two months since Feitan received his mission, and the weight of the climate seemed to weigh even more, making the air dense, as if the earth was breathing with effort. The kingdom was slowly collapsing, but not abruptly. It was a slow death, an organism that wasted away slowly, like a flower that is shedding its petals, one piece of life torn away at a time. The villages were frozen in time. The villagers, shadows of their former selves, dragged themselves along the dry dirt streets, as if they were living in anticipation of a future that would never come. The smell of hunger, oppression and misery was in the air, like a cloud that would not dissipate, and the days seemed to stretch out in an endless cycle.
- Nothing changes... - thought Feitan, certain that things would only get worse. The silence was deadly in the villages. The only sound that could be heard was the echo of one's own footsteps, muffled by the dust that rose from every corner. The ruined houses stood like skeletons, and the few remaining residents seemed more concerned with tomorrow than with what had already happened. Fear, thick as fog, took over everything, a ghostly presence that hung in the hot, stale air. As Feitan walked, a scene invaded him: an old man, his eyes empty, his pupils opaque as shattered glass, his body bent over with suffering. He did not ask for mercy, he did not expect anything beyond the pain that already accompanied him. The old man was the reflection of all the inhabitants of the kingdom, as if pain and hopelessness were now part of them, like a silent sentence that imprisoned them. They accepted the approaching end, as if the very spirit of the land had surrendered without resistance. Feitan knew what was happening. The reports did not lie. The Global Commission of Diplomats had already noted a mass migration of Kitsumi commoners, fleeing to Orchadia, Axoland, and Nefeheim, seeking a fate that, in the end, could be as dark as the one they were leaving behind. Nefeheim, in particular, was a cruel place, with its public executions and the constant tension between humans and elves. The streets were covered with bodies, and torture was a daily reflection of life there. But the strangest thing was the lack of resistance. Perhaps it was fear that had swallowed them, or the exhaustion of fighting an invisible but increasingly real oppression. Hunger was the only dish served. The country was sinking, and despair was no longer a surprise to anyone. Feitan had learned from his informants that in distant regions, people had become so apathetic that they would rather starve than ask for help. The system of oppression had shaped their minds, distorting them until even survival no longer made sense. They were dead inside, more than physically.
The walls, which had once been strong and proud, were now cracked, and desert vegetation took over what was left of what should have been a center of learning. Children played among the ruins, but their laughter was absent, as if the concept of happiness had been lost somewhere far away. Kitsumi's future was as desolate as the landscapes that surrounded it.
But amidst all this devastation, there were exceptions, like patches of color in a faded painting. One of the biggest problems the kingdom faced was the taxes on the use of rivers, magically diverted from their natural course. The poorest villages, without access to this vital water, survived on sparse rains or depended on magicians with limited powers. Those without magicians were doomed, extinguished by thirst. The capital, on the other hand, flourished, not through merit or justice, but through the centralization of power in the hands of the nobility.
While the fiefdoms disintegrated and the nobles took root in the coastal areas, the villages closest to the aquifers breathed through a thread, finding a false prosperity that vanished with the wind.
Everything indicated that the Emperor of Kitsumi was leading his people to a kind of "natural selection", perhaps disguised as a military plan, as a testing ground where the strongest would survive. But Feitan knew that, at that moment, his mission was not to interfere.
Current Moments
The snow was still present throughout the place, and cutting winds were also seen in the unstable region. Feitan walked through the snow with Sekire unconscious in his arms. He wondered why he was saving her, perhaps because he had taken a liking to the girl and felt a sense of duty at least once. Feitan had interpreted that a General from Kitsumi had invaded Sekire's village and, given her age and childish appearance, she must have created the demon's spirit. In his view, the village was strangely prospering even though it was in a region completely prone to death.
Sekire woke up with a feeling of intense cold, her vision blurred by the snow that was falling in thin flakes around her. Her eyes opened slowly, recognizing Feitan's serious face, whose steps were now slower, but would not stop.
"What... where are we?" Sekire's voice was weak, and the wind made it difficult to hear in the place.
Feitan did not take his eyes off the road ahead, but the answer came dry, like the icy wind that cut through the landscape.
- Kitsumi. We are on the border of the kingdom. Axoland is further north.
The snow did not stop for a second. The land seemed deserted, cold, with skeletal trees broken by time and the remains of ancient buildings, like abandoned bones of a fallen civilization.
Sekire tried to walk, but her head was spinning, and a slight tremor took over her. Her hands were still numb, and her body was too weak to resist the immense cold. She gritted her teeth, trying to keep herself steady.
- You knocked me down - she murmured, more to herself than to him.
Feitan looked at her, but did not stop. His eyes were serious and sharp.
- This is no time for weakness. Get up. I will cooperate with you for now, but if my superiors order you to be thrown back here or executed, I will have to do it. - The order was direct, without softness, but not without a tone of concern that she could not identify. It wasn't literally kindness, just something functional.
Sekire tried to swallow the pain, but the fatigue was becoming unbearable. She stammered something that sounded like a bitter laugh.
"It's not weakness. It's... hard to move after being tortured for 6 years." Feitan stopped, looking directly at her for the first time. The expression on his face was
Sekire's face was hard, but there was something else there, something he couldn't read easily
- Surviving here was great for you. But in Axoland, it will be different. If they accept you there, you will need talent to have a decent life - Feitan said, his tone unchanging. - If you don't want to die on the way, you better start now.
- What... what is Axoland like? - he asked, unable to hide his doubt. The cold she felt and the uncertainty that dominated her thoughts made her afraid, even more so after all the traumas she had been through. However, she would notice that her mana was no longer as powerful as it had been a few days ago, something was completely wrong.
Feitan didn't answer right away. His eyes were fixed on the road in front of him, his boots calmly digging into the snow. When he spoke, his voice was calm, but with a slight tone that Sekire couldn't immediately identify.
- Axoland is a better place than this shitty kingdom - he said, without looking at her. - Not that it's perfect. But if you're decent and know how to behave, you can live well there. Without the pain and lies of this place.
Sekire felt a little relieved, although she still didn't know exactly what he meant by "live well". Her body still ached, and her mind was full of fear.
She watched Feitan more closely as he walked forward.
- What if I'm not "decent"? - Sekire asked, more out of curiosity than the need for an answer. Her voice still sounded fragile, but the question escaped almost without meaning to.
Feitan stopped for a moment, but only to adjust the cloak that covered his shoulders, as if the world around him was no more important than his own direction. He looked at her, his eyes hidden by the mask that still covered his face.
- Life there won't be easy. But if you're not decent, things will become difficult. Axoland has its rules, and those who don't follow them end up... disappearing. - He gave a slight smile, almost imperceptible, before continuing, but Sekire understood the purpose, after all he was joking. - But I believe you have more to offer than you think.
What did he mean by "more to offer"? She didn't see herself as someone special, nor did she believe she was capable of anything great. However, Feitan's words, even with their coldness, awakened something in her, a faint flame, but one that she knew she could not extinguish.
The wind blew stronger, as if trying to interrupt the conversation. Feitan raised his arm, gesturing for her to follow him, without rushing, without nervousness.
- Let's go. - His voice was firm, but not cruel, more like a suggestion than an order. - The road is long and night is falling. We have to cross these lands of Kitsumi and reach the north. Axoland is still far away.
3 Days Later
The bitter wind of the blizzard began to ease as Feitan and Sekire approached the borders of Axoland. The surrounding landscape, once a frozen and desolate expanse, began to give way to a more peaceful atmosphere. The sound of Feitan's boots against the snow faded, replaced by an unexpected stillness that spread through the air.
Sekire looked up, feeling the change in her surroundings. The sky, previously gray and heavy, began to lighten, as if the earth beneath her feet had absorbed the storm, leaving behind a silent breath. Snow still covered the landscape, but not with the intensity of before. The flakes fell slowly, almost lazily, as if the world itself was resting after the fury of winter.
"We're here." Feitan's voice was low but clear, breaking the silence that enveloped them.
Sekire looked around, her eyes trying to comprehend what exactly was in front of her. The kingdom of Axoland stretched out before her, but not as dramatically or grandly as she had imagined. There was something serene about the landscape, a calm that seemed to contrast with Kitsumi's agitation. Feitan, unhurried, stopped for a moment, observing the landscape. He seemed at peace, as if the environment that stretched out before them was familiar and welcoming, in an undisturbed way. Sekire swallowed hard. Something inside her began to ignite—a sense of hope, or perhaps of simply having achieved something she hadn't known she was seeking. The blizzard had stopped, but the calm brought with it something else. It was as if this place had the power to absorb pain and fear, offering a respite to whoever arrived there, even if only temporarily. Sekire, still somewhat disoriented from the long journey, stared at the horizon as they advanced, feeling the weight of the unknown tightening her chest. The landscape was made up of large fields covered in thick snow, interrupted only by small forests of twisted trees that stood like guardians of the kingdom. As they advanced, the city of Axoland began to approach, its imposing outlines forming on the horizon, like a silent invitation for them to enter
the gates.
As they approached the great castle, a sense of change washed over Sekire. She couldn't explain it, but it felt as if the very wind here was different. It wasn't just the cold air that filled her lungs; there was a sense of welcome, as if the kingdom knew exactly who was coming and was ready to receive them.
Feitan led her to the castle's massive doors, where a guard of soldiers in golden armor stood at the ready. There was no need for words; Feitan simply nodded, and the door swung open. The entrance to the castle was grand, with stone walls that seemed to absorb sound, creating an atmosphere of reverent silence. The lantern lights cast dancing shadows across the hallways, and the sound of their footsteps echoed, deep and lonely.
Before they entered the main hall, the castle's corridors were filled with murmurs and furtive glances. Employees, servants, and guards whispered softly to each other, trying to understand what was happening.
"Has Feitan brought a child?" A female voice, almost whispering, escaped from one of the employees who was cleaning the walls of the north wing. Her eyes shone with curiosity, and she looked with a mixture of disbelief and intrigue at the imposing figure passing by. "I wonder if she's some kind of prisoner? Or maybe a refugee?"
Another employee, older and with a frowning expression, shook his head as he pushed a cart of brooms down the hallway.
"I don't know... But I heard he's been coming and going more often. Something big is happening, and this girl... If she's here, it's because there's something important, something that no one else knows about." His voice was low, but filled with a tone of respect, indicating that, despite his rigid posture, he knew much more than he let on.
In a nearby corner, a young maid with blonde hair tied in a bun peeked furtively through the half-open door, observing Feitan and the young woman who accompanied him. Her expression was one of pure curiosity.
"I heard something about a visitor. But I didn't expect it to be this... I wonder if she's a candidate for..." She stopped abruptly, realizing that her words could be heard. But the gleam in her eyes betrayed the uneasiness she felt.
"Let's stop gossiping, guys. Feitan doesn't like it." A more serious guard, with visible scars on his face, said, closing his mouth and taking a step further away, trying to show an air of authority. However, no one paid him any attention, as their curiosity only increased.
And then, finally, Feitan entered the main hall, and the conversation died down. The atmosphere seemed to relax, as if the castle itself was awaiting the arrival of something grand.
Feitan gestured to Sekire, indicating that she should follow him to the center of the hall. The large room was imposing, with ancient tapestries and a huge fireplace lit in the back, spreading a golden light throughout the room. The throne, elevated and majestic, was empty, but a sense of presence filled the space, as if the room was always waiting for someone. Feitan stopped in the center of the room, and for a moment, everything was silent.
And then, the voice came.
- Well, well, Fei Fei, welcome back... - The voice was sweet, but loaded with a disconcerting irreverence. Sekire barely had time to process what was happening when a figure emerged from the shadows, its presence would simply make Sekire bend over in fear with the pressure exerted, as if she had the weight of 2 seas on her body.