21ST

I, along with the man, trail behind Mikael outside as I have suggested having myself be introduced — or the other way around, rather — to the said Order, whilst Grace and Kyla remain back at the inn. That'll allow them to take more time taking in each other's presence. It's only fair, after all the trouble I put them through. And Kyla can also entertain Grace's questions about me if she ever has some that are still unanswered. In the meantime, I'll get more to mine.

The evening deepens, and the people are just heading to their designated homes, amplifying the peaceful manifestation throughout the camp.

I want to ask how Alice is, but the dread in me holds me back. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that he's here. But it won't ever change the fact that I caused Alek's and his other friends' deaths. I killed them.

"How long have you known this place?" I ask Mikael after a while of walking, at least, to try to lighten myself up.

"Ever since Twenty-One formed the order," He answers. "Alek and I agreed to join since we were friends with your father. In fact, the two of us owe him a lot. We were young rogues, but then he found us." Young? I thought they'd be the same age as my father. "He helped us become independent and learned that not every Wolf-Breed should be in a pack. The rest was history until we became Front Soldiers."

"Alek never told me much about you." All I knew was they were comrades in their squad.

"Letting you know more about us leads to risks of exposing the Order to the Ordinals," He says. "That's what Twenty-One told us the day we signed up for this. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to meet you long ago."

Signed up… If I only knew that it'd cost lives, then I might have prevented it. I could've done something. As much as I want to approach him and be on my knees and cry as I beg forgiveness, the shame holds me further. Because even that can never ever bring my godfather back. I can't bring his friends back. I can't bring Alek back to Alice.

I see we're heading to a massive tree that overwhelms the rest surrounding it. I assume it's the center of the settlement judging by how symmetrically the trees surround it with bridges connecting them. They're scouted with armed men, and so are the grounds, which tells that this place limits people who can enter the huge establishment built upon its branches. It's like an actual house with plenty of rooms.

A woman greets Mikael, saluting. "Welcome back, Mikael."

"Are any of the council members in there?" He asks.

"Madam Eleanor is up there with three of the other council members," The woman answers. "Ordinal Twenty-One and Madam Angelica left two days ago to Cysainte." My mother is involved with this council. I shouldn't be surprised, yet still.

The woman then signals one of the two men standing by the wide staircase ahead, spiraling up around the tree's log, and he walks up. It doesn't take a while for him to return along with the familiar face-painted, elf-lady.

"Mikael," She beams. "You're here."

"Eleanor," The Wolf-breed returns the greet, slightly bowing his head. So that's her name.

"We weren't expecting your visit."

"Well, having to keep a low profile while keeping Licht's Ravenbird friend safe from being pursued by another Ordinal was the only reason I came unannounced," Colonel approaches the lady for a welcoming hug. "High General Canmore told me to fetch and bring her here, in short."

"Then, I wouldn't call your arrival a visit, but rather a mission," She says. "Must've been a tough and long journey."

"Well, it was rather thrilling," He chuckles. I only stand by, assessing their relationship by their conversation.

"I can only thank the heavens that you made it. Being chased by the Silver Angel herself is almost an impossible escape."

I can justify her statement about the mentioned Ordinal. It's only because of the immortal armament she possesses — her Ravenbird wings themselves are made of indestructible steel, which makes her keep up with the speed of sound. It's what also earned her the name, The Silver Angel. But that name is a mere irony because deadly is what many claim her to be. A single feather won't be a problem for her to take more than two lives, despite her having an infinite supply. However, that obviously wasn't what the Ordinal's intention to my friend.

"If it weren't for his friend's knowledge about the Ordinal, surely we'd be in front of Ordinal Three now," Mikael says lastly.

"Astanor will always be open," She rests her gaze on me.

I know I can't underestimate Grace. She's just as smart as Kyla. And considering the fact that it's Irathra's Ordinal, it's only normal for a Ravenbird to know much about the said Legionnaire.

The elf lady turns to me. "And I'm not surprised that your curiosity is already around the Order that your Godfather, Finnobair, established," And it's a fact. "I was hoping that you'd need more time while waiting for your mother's arrival."

"Well, you did tell me to explore around," I explain. "I count this as one."

She lightly nods. "Fair enough," She then turns her heels. "Come along."

I'm only able to take a few steps forward when I turn back again to see the armed woman, blocking my other Wolf-breed company.

"He's with me," I say.

"It is forbidden for commoners to enter the Order's lair," The woman counters. "Let alone, a suspicious outsider."

That mild insult makes the man's face grow stern. But also makes me think that she can sense him as a different Wolf-Breed.

"Let him," Eleanor chimes.

That, without any question, convinces the woman to step aside, while the man, as he makes his way to keep up with me, keeps his cold and dominating expression alive.

I halt my tracks upon close contact with the wide, wooden staircase. With me in this unstable condition, I don't think I can even step on the first bar. I notice Mikael about to assist me not until the man, without any warning, reaches for my arm and puts it around his shoulders. He manages to take hold of my crutch before fully having me in his arms like a new bride, at the same time, ever so careful over touching my wounds. This again reminds me of the times he did this. Somehow, no embarrassment brews in me, as if there can be any other excuses to be so. I let him carry me like a child all the way to the top where a balcony greets us, not much effort having to exert.

"Thanks," I say to him once I'm on my crutch again.

He only nods.

"This way," There's Mikael already at the pair of doors with two other men holding them open. The elf-lady has already entered.

The warm light given by the lamps on the ceilings gives an impressive showcase to the banners woven with symbols draping down the walls as if they mean to represent something. But those hanging on both sides of the door ahead stand out the most to me—colored in black, a symbol of two swords crossing one another behind an infinity symbol. Behind that door, I hear the muffled discourse of a few people behind it. I assume it's the three other people the security mentioned earlier. It gets confirmed as Mikael pushes the door for the elf-lady and has me meet the said people sitting around a long table with three chairs empty.

I rest my eyes upon each of the seated members; one is another female who's a fawn, elegantly dressed in fine floral designed clothing as if she conveys to represent the fawns well; one of the two men is a Ravenbird, that to this moment is still holding the same proud smile ever since our appearance as if he had been expecting to see me; the other man immediately gives me recognition of him as a Wolf-breed when I noticed earlier when I entered, sniffing as if he needed assurance that I am not someone else.

Eleanor first introduces me to the fawn lady. "This is Cassandra Jophiel. She heads the agricultural resources and constructions of the settlement."

She leaves her seat to approach me for a gentle handshake. "I'm humbled to meet you finally," She says, beaming. I only nod politely, unsure for some reason.

As for the Ravenbird, he excitingly grips my hand with an aggressive shake. Gladly, this other arm isn't impaired. "Carvin Foyde," He utters, energetically before the elf-lady could even speak for him. "I'm the head of weaponry and army training." That explains him being in a combat suit. "It has come to my attention that you always excelled in combat training back in your academy days. Once you're in full recovery, feel free to train with us."

I only give a polite nod to that, too.

The remaining member approaches with a calm expression and gives my hand a firm shake.

"And this is Izsac Ross," The elf lady continues. "You may not expect words from him, but he's gifted in the kitchen, and leads the hunting pack. And unlike any other Wolf-Breed, his sense of smell is far stronger."

The Wolf-breed then makes signs with his hands, which immediately signs that he's mute.

"He says he's in deep gratitude for your arrival."

The Wolf-breed signs again,

"He says you're scentless." The elf lady translates. "Perhaps, your hellion nature justifies that." That further clarifies why the Ordinals couldn't track me.

"What about you?" I ask the lady. "What do you do?"

"Ah, yes. I haven't formally introduced myself." She then fixes her posture. "I'm Eleanor Elda, I'm the head of medicine here."

"So basically, Ordinal Twenty-One and you people run this place, including my mother," I say.

"Yes," She affirms. "Including keeping watch of you until your powers awaken. Just like what Finnobair predicted."

"So have I told him," Mikael chimes.

The lady then turns to the other members and speaks again. "I'm afraid we'll have to continue this conference tomorrow, have a good evening." They all oblige and return the evening farewell before making their beeline out of the room, isolating her with Colonel Blane, the man, and me. "Please, have a seat."

I take the chair in front of me and gently fixate on it. The crutch only stays leaning against the table. The man doesn't bother to remain standing behind me like a bodyguard, whilst the other Wolf-breed takes the one opposing me. The lady returns to her seat, which is adjacent to me.

"After the day you were born, your mother decided to live somewhere else where you'd be able to have a normal life," She begins again, right at the very purpose why I wanted to be here. "Weeks after that, Finnobair then formed the order, which your mother was unaware of until months later."

"Why would he choose to protect me when he's one of the people who knows about the prophecy?" I ask.

"He and your father were close friends. Brothers even, so to say." Mikael answers.

"When the Ordinals found the prophecy only years ago, the very solution they had was to eliminate this person who possessed this entity as soon as possible Three himself suggested," Adds the elf lady. "However, a while later, upon your birth. The prophecy itself revealed something else. Hope. And that hope lies in you as the entity is linked to the Otherrealm. It may help us save the future from another hellion war."

"That's funny," I say. "When Ordinal Twenty-One brought me to the Citadel, Ordinal Three himself offered to help me know more about… this, when, after all, it was all just a setup."

"Three always considered your father a threat even before," She says. "It's not a surprise anymore that he did that to you."

To me, it was.

"Was it also Twenty-One's plan to bring me there in the first place?" I ask. It's the same question the man asked Ordinal Twenty-One back at the cave.

"No," Mikael answers, instead. "He originally planned to bring you here as soon as High General Canmore informed him that your powers have wakened. But before that, Three himself has already asked Finnobair to bring you to the Citadel instead. And he couldn't reject that knowing that it might risk making Arthur raise suspicion leading to our exposure."

"And now that you're here, we hope you put your trust in us to help you figure out the potential of your nature," Eleanor adds. "Then you can end this war."

It's almost the same thing Ordinal Three said to me. Yet, I can't help but have another question. "You said it had been a long plan of yours to waken… this in me. Why would my mother approve of this?" I'm holding the growing outburst.

"Your mother may have become a member of the order. But she was not always aware of everything," She adds. "When Finnobair spoke to her about the Order, he also proposed the plan." They've kept a secret that long from me? "She was fully against it. But she knew it herself that your true nature couldn't stay hidden forever."

"Again, your mother wanted you to live a normal life. She's a generous and caring woman," Mikael adds. "When you were young you told her that you wanted to become a soldier, and from then on, she had no choice. Her letting you pursue your dreams to become one was an opportunity for us."

"What about the sword?" I ask. And their reaction says they know something more that I should know. "An Immortal Armament that belonged to my father. How come he possessed one when he's rather a hellion-blooded being?"

They trade gazes, not knowing what words to use to answer me as if I threw a million pentanide-question. But now, I hate how my intuition is answering me instead. As the world knows, only an Ordinal can possess an Immortal Armament.

"As I mentioned," The lady begins. "Finnobair and your father were close friends. And they weren't just friends. But also comrades for a long, long time."

So, yes — my father was not just a Hellion-blooded being. But an Ordinal, too.

The next thing is, I grab my crutch and rise from my seat, movements so stiff that they know it's not my injuries causing that, but rather, the anger I'm emitting. The next thing is I'm walking to the door with my emotions rampaging within my head. I don't know which one should I let dominate at the moment. Is Grief? Anger? Guilt? They're all coming at once.

"Kyvin—" The elf lady calls, rising immediately from her seat.

I turn and cut her. "Why does it have to be me?" A tear already decides to drip down my cheeks. "Out of all the people in the world, why did it have to be me?"

"It's far more complicated than what you think, Kyvin," Mikael says.

"Complicated?" I counter. "Alek died, along with your friends! And yet you seem so unbothered."

"It's not easy for me, too, Kyvin. You know that," Mikael says, calmly. "But he knew what he signed up for. We both do."

"Did he!?" I'm shouting, voice shaking. "Did Alice know what he signed up for!?"

His shoulders are tensed, and I sense the prominent burden of his loss over my godfather that we both share. But over his face, it shows another — guilt. The small shake of his head makes up for the words he can't say. She doesn't. And that just makes it worse.

"My life at the Barrier got thrown away because of this. My friends got involved. I barely survived multiple times from the Ordinals trying to kill me, and if it weren't for this man," My hand directs to the person next to me. "I wouldn't be standing right in front of you." My voice is raised and I only realize it now. "You people may say I'm safe here, but it doesn't mean I'm not miserable. I never wanted any of this."

"So did your father," Eleanor says, voice still calm and reserved. "He made sacrifices."

"Did that include me? His own child?" The anger in my tone continues to elevate, almost growling, even. "My life? And be seen as a threat to the world? Or was that his way of escaping this conflict and having me deal with it instead?"

"You're not a threat, Kyvin," The lady counters. "And your father never had that intention. Your mother knows that, too."

"Then what!?" I shout now, voice completely shaking in misery and tears daring to escape. The urge to get the answers only returns. I cannot have myself wait longer. "What else do I have to know!? What do I have to understand!? Tell me! How much more do I have to sacrifice?"

At this point, I cannot care less whether I have to hear everything come from her, from my mother, or even from anyone else who knows. I've wasted enough strength, I've wasted enough time and I've wasted enough patience. I can't take the irony that they know better about my father than I do.

They only stand there near their seats, speechless.

I bitterly chuckle. Of course. I walk out. A child cannot be more in pain by the idea of it, especially having to carry the burden of the conflict they had and face its consequences. It may have been wrong to make that reaction, but it's rooted all the way in this part of me that has this certain urge to blame. Yet, who? Or, what?

I managed to make the immediate descent of the wooden stairs to the snowy soil without needing any assistance. The armed people around may have put notice, but I would've ignored them even if they offered to.

My legs are in ramping steps, completely leaving the injuries and wounds unacknowledged, just so I can get far from people. Maybe I can get back to the inn I woke up in? No, I don't even remember the directions.

Not long, my legs give, and not even my crutch can sustain my balance, so I simply surrender to my knees. The excruciating pain is nothing compared to the misery clogging my brain and I find it hard to catch my breath. My eyes are clouded with water and I'm only facing down just to avoid being witnessed by people. It's too late now though. They're slowly crowding around me, and I'm only here watching my bandages get smudged with the growing bloodstains. I still manage to stand back up for some reason and walk past the crowd. I guess I'm that driven by anger. Is it even anger?

It's so unfair. It's so unfair that these many secrets were kept from me. Secrets that will now change my life forever. And it scares me. It scares me how I'm going to be able to live with it — how people will now see me. I've accepted that I have and will always be looked at differently by other people, by other races because I am—… was a mere human residing near the walls of the Barrier. I never had to prove anything to anyone else but myself anyway. But now? Is acceptance even a choice over the fact that I do not just share the blood of a Hellion-blooded being, but also of an Ordinal? I share the blood of an Ordinal…

I keep walking, not minding wherever my impaired legs and crutch would lead me until a half-frozen river approaches my peripheral with a wooden bridge arching across the waters, where the shoreline continues to be an expansive forest of plain trees that are supposed to be bald. I don't hesitate to go beyond it. I amble down the rocky and frozen riverbank. There's barely any source of light on this path and I have nothing to rely on but my adjusting vision. I can't forget I have that inherent ability. My unsteady steps don't falter upon reaching the trees on the other side.

I happen to come by a large tree. Unlike the rest surrounding it, it seems to have a healthier bark. Then I notice a carved symbol upon it. A letter. No, a rune. Now it makes sense why this tree looks different. But surely, Ordinal Twenty-One wouldn't put it here for that reason alone. I parse the other surrounding trees nearby with my adjusted Hellion vision to see if I missed others like this with healthy barks. Yes. There are others. So that means, this is the settlement's border.

Further, I go, not even looking back until my legs decide to stop. To calculate, I've gone five minutes away from the edge of the settlement. Here, I sit, back against a tree with both my knees close to my face, having nothing else to be bothered with but the peaceful silence of the deep night. Instead of feeling cold when I forgot my cloak at Kyla's inn, I feel nothing. I don't even feel like thinking of anything at all, yet my brain has its own control. But, for sure, I just want to be isolated for now.