The Infinite Bk. 04 Ch. 11

This basilisk resulted from twisted magic and abominable science. In a state of nature, it never would have even broken free of its shell, let alone reached adulthood. The real basilisk tried to make sense of what was standing before it, pushing Noah closer to the brink of death every second. His wounds were transferring to the illusion, leaving the deformed beast hemorrhaging from all over and roaring in agony the way Noah wished to.

To the basilisk, this creature before it would be the most effortless victory, but though it wasn't at all intimidating, it did invoke fear. Its instincts were telling it to stay back, the primordial sense to avoid sick prey. This enemy was suffering from some kind of poison or disease, something that the basilisk might catch. Out of fear of sharing the fate of this newcomer, the beast retreated. No weapon or beast could frighten it, but it dared not risk getting sick.

The elves standing behind Noah watched with their mouths hanging open, unable to believe what they saw. Not only had Noah somehow conjured one of the mightiest beasts in the world, but he had succeeded in driving the other one off. But while Aithorn and the others tried to guess what kind of magic they were seeing or watching the other basilisk flee, Valia was staring at Noah with worry, seeing his clothes get soaked with blood. Only when it was finally gone did he release the spell, shredded by the side effects of using more power than his body could produce.

He collapsed like a fallen tree, losing consciousness to the sound of Valia tearfully screaming his name. Noah didn't know when he finally woke up, but it was with a spasm of pain. He was lying atop a mattress of animal pelts in a stone room he didn't recognize. A window was nearby, with sunlight streaming in and nourishing the moss that grew on the floor and walls.

"So you're finally awake?"

His whole body aching, Noah looked over to see Aithorn sitting in the corner, looking exhausted.

"Yes, but at the moment, I'm going to have to add an 'unfortunately' to my answer. Water, please." Aithorn sat him up and gave him a cup of water, which Noah used to wash down some morphine pills. "How long have I been out?"

"A whole day. Your body was almost ground into pulp."

"That sounds about right. Where are we?"

"The palace. We treated you with healing and mana potions, but you still wouldn't wake up, so we carried you here. Well, really it was Valia who carried you. She got quite defensive when you were unconscious, practically hissing at anyone who offered to carry you in her stead."

"I don't suppose Valon is here, is he?"

"No, but we have found Gradius's men. Monsters, illness, heat stroke, and a dozen other dangers culled their ranks, but Gradius wasn't going to let that stop him, so they deserted him to his mad hunt. Half his men died from his poor leadership, but half survived because his power. When they tried to make it back to the ship without him, they were instead driven here, where they've been holding up as best as they can."

"That means Gradius is all alone in the jungle. I'm still keeping my fingers crossed about drowning in mud."

"Fortunately, the needle you gave Valia seems to be pointing in a consistent direction, so once you're ready, we can head out."

"Good, but first I'm going to need some pants."

Aithorn handed him his clothes and armor. "All your clothes were soaked in blood, so Valia took care of undressing you and getting them cleaned. Our one remaining healer feared that if she undressed you, she'd be struck with some kind of curse that bends women to your will."

"I don't need magic to do that," Noah said as he got dressed. He then tried to stand up, but collapsed back onto the bed.

"Take it easy. You realize you almost died, don't you?"

"I didn't see the rest of you offering up solutions. I did what I had to."

"What in the world was that magic you used? I've never seen anything like it before."

"I don't like explaining it, because then potential enemies can find a way around it. What I said before, about taking what you saw to your graves, I expect you all to abide by it and tell no one, not even Elisandra of my abilities."

"You really think of us as enemies?"

"Remember that overtly threatening conversation we had after leaving Sylphtoria? Remember when Torbin wanted to leave me behind because of the ponaturi? Valia is the only person on this island I trust not to stab me in the back and leave me for dead, but if it was for her brother's sake, I'm sure she'd sacrifice me to get him back. Even if they don't mean to do it, even if they don't plan to do it, I live my life waiting for everyone to betray me."

"Well it might to surprise you then to know that... I trust you. After what I saw yesterday, I even respect you. You succeeded where I failed: you kept the team alive."

"If I didn't do something, we all would have died. My actions weren't that altruistic."

"It doesn't matter. You're a better leader than I am."

"For you to say that, it means there is a similar event in your past to compare yesterday to. Is this about our fight earlier, or something else?"

Aithorn hesitated, chewing on his words. "Years ago, there were reports of an ogre tribe entering the Anorvan Forest. They had already raided a village, so they had to be wiped out. I volunteered to lead a team to do just that."

"Do you remember Alexis Veres, the girl who fought under you during the Red Revelries? She's a friend of mine. We worked together to exterminate an ogre tribe before enrolling in the academy. It's how we met. You would have been proud of her. Something tells me your fight didn't go so well?"

Aithorn gave a bitter laugh, the only laugh Noah had ever heard from him. "I underestimated them. I thought it would be easy, like stepping on cockroaches. I had defended Sylphtoria for centuries, defeated countless enemies, and thought my men and I were unbeatable. We had no idea that there would be so many, that they'd be so well armed. They had enchanted weapons, high-grade armor, and numerous mages. It was like the gods were laughing at us, wanting to see if we would break down in tears.

Before we could even do reconnaissance, they came at us like a tidal wave, and there was nothing we could do. My men were butchered in front of me, and I had three arrows planted in my chest. One of my men, wounded like I was, managed to escape with me in tow. We rode to the nearest village, and though I made it, he didn't.

I led a dozen elves to their graves, and instead of being the first to go like a true warrior, instead of giving my life so they could get away, I was shamefully wounded and came back alive, leaving those who trusted me to be feasted upon by those wicked beasts. My friends and family tried to console me, but nothing they said could change what happened. I even tried to end my own life, to punish myself for my failures, but the queen caught me in the act and convinced me to live.

The only thing that's kept me going is that I still wanted to serve my nation, to make up for my weakness and the men I failed. I'm a warrior, and I wanted to fight for my people, but it was just too painful to remain in Sylphtoria. I had no right to come home when my decisions meant my men couldn't."

"So when Prince Lupin offered a truce with Sylphtoria in exchange for an elven warrior serving Uther...."

"I jumped at the chance. I could protect my nation as a warrior, while still punishing myself for my failures. I deserved to suffer, and I wanted to."

"When we set out to hunt that monster, you seemed angry and I thought it was because of me. Really, it was because of the three elves with us, right?"

"I told the queen you and I could get the job done ourselves, but she insisted. I could never lead elves into battle again, to have my hands stained with even more blood from my kin. It's why I wanted you to be in charge of this mission. But every time we lost somebody..." Aithorn paused, and Noah realized he was trying to hold back tears, trying and failing. "Every time we lost somebody, it hurt just like it did before! I still have their blood on my hands because I wasn't strong enough to protect them!"

He stopped trying to conceal it and began to openly weep. Noah sat silently, not wanting to interrupt him, and after a couple minutes, he finally spoke. "That sounds perfectly reasonable to me."

"What?"

"I've led men into combat countless times, and I've lost so many because of my decisions, so I know when someone makes a mistake, and you didn't. You said you were attacked before you could perform reconnaissance, meaning you didn't rush blindly into battle. You might have been a little cavalier about the whole thing, but you didn't lead your men to their deaths. You simply got screwed. Take it from me; it happens to the best of us. Maybe you made some mistakes in the process, but condemning you now wouldn't change anything. I also can't criticize your decisions after because, frankly, you're doing everything right.

You say you tried to take your own life, and the queen stopped you, but you never tried again because you decided to live for something, and that's important. That's a big step that not everyone is strong enough to make. You say you went to Uther to punish yourself, but what I hear is that you broadened your horizons, met new people, and looked for alternative ways you could serve your country. That's not punishment; that's healing. You're on the right path."

"I don't deserve to heal. These wounds will stay with me until the day I die, as they should."

"Healing isn't the same as forgetting what happened. To heal means to come back from what you've endured, to be made better by what failed to kill you. The fact that it still hurts when comrades die is a good thing. It means you care about those you've lost and those around you. You care about doing things right. You care about learning from your mistakes and improving yourself. Be glad you feel that pain, but don't wallow in it.

You didn't end your own life, you didn't numb yourself to loss or dismiss what happened to your men, you didn't escape your grief by crawling into a bottle or turning to some other means of intoxication. Instead, you found purpose. Your only mistake is looking at it as a way to suffer instead of a way to grow. If you're not ready to forgive yourself, that's fine, take all the time you need, but self-flagellation won't accomplish anything. Only growing stronger and succeeding where you failed will do that.

We can never make up for the deaths we cause, be they from our decisions or straight-up murder. All we can do is work harder to save more lives than we take to tip the scales in our souls so that we can look at ourselves in the mirror and not want to break the glass."

Noah got up with a wince and limped over to the window, looking out at the jungle in all its beauty. "Valia once told me that guilt from battle is a good thing, that it keeps us grounded, keeps us from forgetting the importance of life, and she made a good point. Guilt isn't supposed to weigh you down; it's supposed to drive you forward. You've decided to have a positive influence on this world, and that's a good thing.

You're an elf, meaning that time holds no sway over you. You can spend the rest of eternity helping and protecting others if that's what makes you happy, and I don't just mean other elves. Let your men be the reason why you change the world. If the death of one person drives you to save a thousand, that doesn't make you a failure; it makes you a hero. You can't change your past, but you can choose what kind of man it'll make you for the future. The question is if you'll face the future with despair or hope."

"I'm glad my lessons stuck." Both Noah and Aithorn turned around to see Valia standing in the doorway. "Hearing you say those words is the only reason I'm not going to slap you for doing something so reckless as what you pulled earlier." She then walked over and hugged Noah tightly, painfully so. "Don't ever do anything like that again. I already had to see Valon in that near-death state, and now I had to see you."

"I'm sorry for worrying you. Thanks for taking such good care of me."

Valia then turned to Aithorn. "I always wondered why you chose to become a knight, and why you've always been so cold and miserable. But if it makes you feel better, I know how much it hurts to lose people under your command, to lose people because you weren't strong enough to save them. I know what it's like to return to Sylphtoria and feel only heartache."

"Thank you."

"Anyway, I'm guessing that Leuca has gotten you up to speed?"

"Yeah, just give me a healing potion and then let me talk to Gradius's men."

The morphine pills were easing his pain, and with a healing potion to restore his stamina, Noah followed Valia and Aithorn out of the room. Nature had colonized the palace, with moss and ivy claiming every spot that received even a glimmer of sunlight.

He was brought to what had once been the grand hall, a massive chamber exemplifying the beauty of elven architecture. Vines wrapped the towering pillars, and the vaulted ceiling had gaping holes that let the sun and the rain in. Beautiful murals adorned the walls, depicting the island's history, and while covered with dirt and lichen, the colors remained clear and pristine.

Birds made their nests in upper corners and any high ledges, and now squawked in annoyance that their peace was being disturbed. Here, Gradius's men and the elves had set up camp. Less than half of the original two-dozen silver-ranked knights that followed Gradius into the jungle remained, and most of them were badly wounded. The one remaining healer of Noah's group, Sinta, was doing her best to mend their injuries, but even with magic, there was a lot of damage that simply couldn't be fixed.

Fangs and claws had carved up their bodies, and their skin blistered from infected bug bites and exposure to toxic plants. A few of them even showed severe burn marks. From the looks of it, they ran out of potions quite a while ago, and any healers they brought with them were long-dead. Even healed, the knights' faces were gaunt with pain and despair.

"Lord Noah," said the elf, Orville, bowing before him and leading the others to do the same. Having saved them from the basilisk, it seemed he had finally won their respect and admiration.

"You did well in getting here. Nobody died while I was unconscious, I hope."

"No casualties, sir. We ran from as many fights as we could to get here."

"Good work." Noah then turned to the tired Utheric knights. "Gentlemen, how are you enjoying your jungle safari?"

The knight in charge of the group looked like he wanted to spit a curse, but after hearing how the elf addressed Noah and all the rumors of his combat skill, he decided not to challenge the new pecking order. "Sir Noah."

"What's your name?"

"Ryan Alto, sir." His hair and face were a mess, and it looked like he hadn't slept in days. He had the eyes of a man who had seen his friends get dismembered, disemboweled, and everything in between.

"Sir Alto, you and your men should be proud of yourselves; you've lasted longer than most. It's no small feat to reach this place. You are indeed Knights of Uther. Now, my comrades and I are willing to help you get off this island, but only under two conditions: you help us fulfill the goal we came here for, and my orders supersede all other authority. If Gradius or the king himself were to stand here beside me, you listen to me and only me. If I'm not around, you take orders from Valia and Aithorn, understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now I was told you all left Gradius to his own devices. Do you know where he is?"

"All we know is that he's continuing to search for Sir Zodiac. He was relentless, burning and butchering every monster that crossed his path, but we are not as powerful, nor as fortunate. We came here completely unprepared and lost knights one by one. We begged him to see reason, but he was on a warpath. He couldn't care less whether we lived or died."

"Well we need to find Valon before he does. We're going to bring him back to Sylphtoria alive and preferably unharmed, as well as the relics he stole. I trust you have no objections."

"Do you know how to find him?"

Valia stepped forward and showed him the needle. "We have the means to track his location." As she channeled her mana into the needle, the point with Valon's hair raised itself off her palm, pointing east.

"That direction...." Sir Alto muttered, looking at the needle and then up at the sky, tracking the sun. "He must be hiding in the temple."

"What temple?" Aithorn asked.

"Come with me, there is something you should see."

They followed Alto through the palace, up to the royal bedchamber. All the furniture had long since rotted away to nothing, with various pieces of jewelry gathering dust, but what drew Noah's attention was an inscription on the wall. It wasn't carved into the stone or elegantly painted on, but scrawled with blood. It was several lines of text in Old Elvish, as well as a rudimentary map of the island with two locations marked; the palace and a temple in the east.

"We found this while exploring the palace. It seems we weren't the first people to try and hold up in here. I think this is a warning someone left behind. One of my men knows a couple words in elvish and was able to determine this place was a temple, clearly one of significance."

"Valia, can you read it?"

"Roughly. I'm not used to this dialect. Leuca?"

"Yeah, I can read it. It's not a warning, it's a retelling of Kisara Island's downfall."

"What happened?"

"The problems started when their crops were struck with blight, delivered from the mainland. It left the soil inhospitable and led to famine, even killing all the trees. The elves tried to combat the blight with druidism, but it had magical resistance, and continued to grow and develop like a living curse.

Soon after, an earthquake reshaped the ocean floor around the island, making it impossible for ships to land or depart. Countless fishing boats were smashed on the rocks, endless sailors swallowed by the sea. Minus those who died in the earthquake, the island was home to tens of thousands of elves, all facing starvation. They believed themselves cursed, abandoned by the gods and spirits.

Desperate elves turned to diving, trying to find food at the bottom of the sea while using magic to protect themselves. There, they found the cause of the earthquake, a dungeon crab. Inside, they uncovered something, some kind of powerful treasure. They called it the Wildheart, and... Oh my God... It had the ability to perform summoning magic. Animals, insects, and plants; it could create life out of thin air with no mana required by the user.

The king believed that the Wildheart was the island's salvation, that it could conjure enough food to sustain the population. They housed it in what became the Rays Temple, on an altar that boosted its powers, and used it to summon livestock and crops that could survive in the toxic soil. Then something went wrong, horribly wrong. The Wildheart went out of control, releasing all of its power without restriction.

Trees began materializing in a rapid wave, destroying homes and streets, and powerful monsters were spawned faster than they could be killed. Attempts were made to retrieve the Wildheart and stop the chaos, but no one lived long enough to even climb the temple steps. It speaks of some colossal monster that guards the place.

The elves tried to contain the spread by erecting walls around the temple, but it didn't take long for the armies of ravenous beasts to spill over the top. Unable to leave the island, they had no choice but to keep building walls and watch them get demolished.