Verse of Amendment (2) (being edited)

[VANE'S POV]

"It's fine; it wasn't your mistake at all...," Celine pacified my worries with a soft tone, her steps aligning with mine.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable," I apologized once again.

"No—I wasn't uncomfortable... it's just—it was my first time riding, so I was nervous," she said, but her words contradicted the way she clung to me during the ride.

Her infatuation was evident, though I doubted whether she realized it.

Nevertheless, it didn't lessen the guilt in my chest but the prospect of leaving the fortress soothed it.

I accompanied her to her room, bidding her a possibly final goodbye, and sought refuge in the comforting embrace of a warm bath.

The warmth of the bath enveloped my weary soul, the subtle fragrance of lavender-scented cleanser lingering in the air.

Reflecting on today's events, a blend of regret and slight relief consumed me, signaling the urgency to depart from this fortress at the earliest.

Emerging from the water, my skin tingled, I paid no mind and donned pajamas, seeking solace in the embrace of sleep.

My mental fatigue took over, and I succumbed to slumber.

- - - - -

The cafeteria's wooden door swung open, revealing a scene of clinking cutlery and hushed conversations.

''Oy' boy, ya gonna stop teasin' me today?'' The old woman asked, her face a mimicry of displeasure.

I responded curtly, "Hello, granny," not playing with my words, and she replied sarcastically;

"Ya finally done teasin' me eh boy?" She said, her face contorted from a displeasure to a sarcastic smile, but I paid no heed.

Soldiers waited in the mess hall, their eyes fixed on me. The wooden benches creaked as I settled, the worn tabletops bearing scars of countless meals.

"Hello, Vane! Up for a game today?" A soldier I knew asked, but I nodded in negation.

Despite their efforts to engage in conversation, I remained a sore thumb amidst the clatter of trays and hearty laughter.

- - - - -

Swiftly concluding my meal, I bid farewell and headed to my room, eliciting concerned gazes.

Retrieving a hefty stack of books, I proceeded to the utility building, intending to return them to the library.

The fortress inhabitants recognized me, waving as I walked by, but I ignored their gazes, reaching the library, where the smell of books wafted through the air.

"Hello, Vane! Looks like you've finished them. Want to read something else?" the old librarian asked cheerfully.

"No, for now, I'd like to take a break," I told him, my expression neutral.

"Oh—alright, just place them here, and don't forget to come again!" he accepted the returned books, and I walked away briskly, the aged carpet beneath; muffling the sounds of footsteps.

Navigating the fortress, I avoided unnecessary encounters, reaching the wooden door to my room, scarred and weathered, the peeling wallpaper a testament to its age.

- - - - -

I ventured to the shadowy space behind the warehouse, where my mentor awaited amidst the familiar plain.

As I approached, he turned to face me, his expression a blend of anticipation and curiosity.

"..."

"..."

An awkward silence ensued, and Barbados' face contorted into confusion; he was used to hearing me greet him.

I didn't mind the silence, however, and began equipping my training gear and started the drills.

- - - - -

We trained, Barbados included, and after half an hour, we settled down for a break.

Barbados made his way over to me."Vane, is something going on?" he asked, rightfully so.

"I suppose you could say that. I didn't sleep well last night; I dreamt about my accident," I replied concisely, not meeting his gaze.

Barbados, sensing my unwilling tone, backed away, albeit hesitantly.

But I called out to him, "Barbados, do you have anything left to teach me?" The informality; a testament to our bond.

He turned around and faced me, his burly figure seeming younger than ever, filled with vigor.

"No, Vane, I... taught you everything I know. At this point, all I can do is train you for different situations."

"This month, I'd like to thank you for mentoring me, Barbados." I expressed my gratitude genuinely, and his confusion was evident.

But I stood up and requested to proceed with the training.

He looked at me many times during our session, his gaze—a mix of concern and curiosity, but my countenance shut out any chance for him to converse.

- - - - -

As our training session concluded, I conveyed my farewell through a subtle nod, a silent acknowledgment of the bond forged through our drills.

Barbados looked hesitant to leave, his figure fixed upon mine, and he began to call out to me.

I interrupted him, "You don't need to worry, Barbados. It's normal for a person with trauma to experience such things," my low tone expressed.

I left him, not looking back, and went to the cafeteria, picking my food from another server, and finished it before the soldiers arrived.

I ate meals worth a lunch and a dinner, the heaviness in my stomach slightly disorienting.

Exhaustion built up, and I quickly made my way to my room.

The escorts were left dazed at my behavior, their faces a mixture of surprise and concern—something I gained gradually.

"Hey, I shouldn't be asking you this, but are you alright? Did you get…," he trailed off, but I understood his intentions.

"Don't worry, I didn't get any episodes, nor did something bad happen," I assured them and entered my room without looking at their expressions.

It had been a week since our last meeting, and Celine was on duty, leaving me alone. I slept early in the evening, disrupting my circadian rhythms, but I didn't care and fell asleep.

- - - - -

I woke up to the cool breeze flowing into my room, and looked at my clock—2 a.m. I prepared to execute my plan.

I removed the bedsheet and, using my canines, widened a small tear in the quilted bed, revealing a ring, a compass, and a crumpled letter.

I wore the ring and put the rest in a small leather bag.

After double-checking all my preparations, I looked out of the window—complete darkness, the moon barely visible under the dense clouds.

I used a tool to unscrew one of the window bars, crafted from a spoon I broke, unscrewing the window slowly but surely.

The window bars came out, and I held it carefully, walking to my bed holding the bar the size of me, and placed it there.

I took out a thick rope twice the size of me from a pillow I tore, and tied it to the other window bar, double-checking the knot.

I held the rope as tightly as I could, and it stretched as I walked down the side of the dorm carefully. Luckily, my room faced the backside of the dorm.

I made sure to silence my footsteps, slowly descending from the 4th floor, my clean boots leaving no imprints on the old yellow paint of the dorm building.

Once I reached the 1st floor, the rope was stretched to its max, and now I had to improvise.

The fall was a few meters away, and the sound would be detrimental. I couldn't afford to make a sound once I committed to this.

- - - - -

It had been a minute or so; I had been trying to swing myself towards a nearby window. My foot finally reached it after many stealthy attempts.

I lodged my foot into the window bars, thankfully, the window was closed, and my body was in an awkward position.

My forearms were starting to burn, both of them holding the rope, and my left leg lodged between the window bars, stretched my body.

I pulled my leg, my left arm trying to reach out for the window bars, but I heard the rope tearing, the sound spoke of the impending tear.

I had to hurry.

I tried pulling my left leg harder, but the rope stretched more, threatening to tear. I had a final chance at this.

I pulled my leg as hard as I could, my left arm just about reached the window bar before a tear resounded and the rope contracted back.

SWISH

My left foot was twisted a bit, and my left arm reduced the burden, holding the bar at the right moment.

The stinging in my arms and my foot elicited a very muffled grunt.

I found proper footing on the window bars and lowered myself to the maximum, now hanging solely on my forearms.

My feet were now around 2 meters away from the ground, and I slowly released my hold and fell onto the grassy ground, rolling as I did.

A muffled thud was heard, but that was it. I made my way to the warehouses, eluded by the darkness, and the lack of personnel greatly helped.

- - - - -

Entering the abandoned building through a discreet back entrance, the pungent odor of rat droppings and urine assaulted my senses.

Undeterred, I pressed on, reaching the familiar room where I once observed the system.

The darkness was difficult to navigate through, and my shoes felt the squelching of what I supposed was rat droppings, yet, it held no place in my mind.

I waited in the room and leaned on a wall.

- - - - -

The sound of footsteps reached my ears, prompting me to press them against the door. Rhythmic, muffled claps echoed from the other side.

I opened the door to a man clad in armor; he looked at me carefully, examining my features under the darkness wasn't easy.

"Vane?" he asked, to which I nodded, and he removed his armor, leaving only his civilian clothes.

He gave his armour to me one by one, and I wore it on the spot.

"Can you do it?" he asked me.

"I should," I curtly replied and received a note and a bottle with liquid in it, which I drank.

- - - - -

I made my way to the utility building; the lack of personnel guarding the ground made it convenient to traverse, and most of the people were asleep.

"Halt! State your identity," the guards (4) demanded as I approached a restricted area inside the lobby.

Presenting the note, scrutiny ensued, and I was let in, not before peculiar gazes fell on me.

Ignoring them, I entered; the facility's walls adorned with patriotic posters, and the dirty carpet underneath dispersed dust with each step.

Bright red signs displayed—restricted for unauthorized personnel, but the guards inside didn't care when I entered.

It was a heavily guarded facility, with many personnel active in there, ensuring robust security, a hint to the importance of what lay beyond.

- - - - -

After a meticulous survey, I located the staircase and descended, finally reaching a colossal door.

Halted before it, I noticed the aged metal door rusting under the weight of history.

Soldiers guarded the entrance, their uniforms crisp against the backdrop of the worn surroundings.

Once again, I showed the note to the soldiers, their scrutinizing eyes hinting at the gravity of what lay beyond.

They let me in, opening the creaking doors, revealing a view of what lay there.

A hall, an old worn-out one, reeking of sweat and dust, inside were many soldiers, some of them were afraid, some of them were calm, and some of them looked confused.

I blended into the crowd, the soldiers' murmurs creating a backdrop to the unfolding events.

The worn floor beneath carried the weight of countless gatherings, and the air vibrated with the collective breaths of anticipation.

- - - - -

An authoritative figure, accompanied by escorts, entered the hall. People made way for him as he strode towards the small podium up front.

I recognized him as one of the officers from the interrogation. He stood there, commanding the attention of everyone.

He remained silent for a while, his hands placed at his back, standing confidently and started.

"Soldiers… in the face of adversity—remember my words 'we shall fight on,' like the warriors of the past, let us not merely accept challenges, but conquer them with unwavering resolve…

In the spirits of Kjeldahl, let our actions echo in history, and together we shall purge the evil…

Let us march—we march with indomitable spirit and courage, long live Eldoria!" the officer, with cadence and zeal, invigorated the spirits of the soldiers, as the mob chanted, 'long live Eldoria.'

I kept my mouth shut, for reasons more than one.

Nevertheless, the officer left the podium and opened a door the width of 3 people lying down, leading to a muddy tunnel, lit by evenly spaced lights.

"Together we shall stand, together we shall purge, and together we shall protect! Long live Eldoria!" the officer shouted, facing the soldiers, prompting them to chant even louder.

The soldiers hurried into the tunnel, the battalion captain leading the chant that echoed through the space, infusing the tunnel with fervor.

I trailed behind with the group of a few who didn't want to have any part of this battle but were forced to when the escorts neared them.

I observed the officer depart, his expression indifferent. The escorts then closed the tunnel entrance, effectively trapping me inside.

Nevertheless, I followed the mob, the tunnel seemingly endless, leading into a space unknown.