Glenn curiously touched the warm ball of white light. A wave of light submerged him, much like what happened with Diamanes' memories.
'Whose memories am I going to end up in...?' Glenn waited patiently, his eyes shut. The whistling of the wind and the rough touch of the sand against his skin woke him up. The heat was unbearable, but he knew it was only an illusion.
He opened his eyes to a caravan working through a familiar black desert.
'The Ink Dunes...' Glenn crossed his arms as he approached the caravanners. Their features were hidden under thin fabric protecting them from the harsh sun, but Glenn still had an inkling as to who they might be. Two persons were stepping at the head of the convoy, an adult and his child, probably around ten or so years old.
"Birin-ketin qadam, Liara. Birin-ketin qadam..." The adult words sounded reassuring, yet Glenn still felt uneasy somehow.
'Liara? Is this Liara's memory? Why would I be seeing Liara's memories? The fuck?' Glenn confusedly watched the scene as he scrambled his mind for an explanation. 'Diamanes, I could understand, but Liara...?'
"Dada... When will we arrive?" Liara asked with an innocent yet weary voice.
Glenn raised a surprised eyebrow. 'Wait, I could understand that?'
"Don't worry, little sun." Liara's father pulled down his hood, revealing a loving face as he picked his daughter up. His skin was much darker than Liara's, while the white cross on his forehead was somehow an exact copy.
"I want to see ona," sniffed Liara. Her father hugged her tightly before pulling his hood back over his head.
"...Your mother is resting with our ancestors, Liara. It's only us and the tribe now," said her father through his teeth. He hugged his daughter tightly as he took a determined step forward, his golden eyes steeled with resolve. Glenn's confusion faded away, replaced by a strange sense of melancholy. He looked down at his hands dejectedly.
'A father... That only makes me miss my mom more. Tsk, and here I thought I was past that already. I'll have to thank Liara for bringing that memory back.' He shook the thoughts away as the black sand rose from the ground into a blinding sandstorm.
The sound of clashing swords drew Glenn's attention, making him squint to try and perceive beyond the sandstorm.
"Your spear shall pierce through the storm and open up a path for your people!" A voice roared through the storm as another clash of weapons created a flurry of sparks. Liara, a little older now, probably sixteen or something, was defending herself against her father's relentless assault. The sweat made the sand stick to her face, the white cross hidden beneath the dust.
"Pierce, control, and overwhelm!" Liara's father made his spear spin before smacking its butt on Liara's forehead, knocking her away. Her feet dug ridges in the sand as she forced herself to stand straight, her sword and spear tightly clenched.
"Your sword will be your shield! To adapt in the face of the raging winds, to protect the defenseless, the weapon of the noble knights of old!" Liara's father's sword cleanly cut through the sandstorm, artificially creating a small peaceful zone in the violent sand. Liara's eyes widened in awe and wonder, but her father couldn't care less about that.
"Your focus shall be of the same steel that your weapon is made of!" He kicked her violently in the stomach, sending her back into the storm. Liara's Aura flared up and exploded defiantly. She charged back against her father, her spear flying next to her. Her father stood like a mountain at the top of a dune, his eyes cold and harsh. An unattainable foe, a challenge not meant to be taken.
Liara attacked with all her strength, only for her sword to cut through the air and her spear to be buried in the sand. Her father's blade was pressed against her neck, signaling the end of the sparring session. The Black Heiress princess fell to her knees, panting heavily.
"You improved. But it isn't enough," said her father without giving her a second glance. She gritted her teeth and pushed herself up, her legs wobbling beneath her.
"I can still keep going!"
Her father looked at her coldly and shook his head. "No, you cannot. This is the end of today's martial training."
Liara clenched her teeth tightly before throwing away her sword in frustration. Her father watched from the corner of his eye before sighing and turning away. Liara collapsed on the ground, letting the black sand cover her slightly.
Glenn rubbed his chin. 'It doesn't look like the first time her father trained her. I mean, it makes sense, considering we're in the Limbo and she's the princess of a fallen empire. Strength is mandatory at this point.' He thought a little harder and changed his mind. 'Well, no, strength should be mandatory for everyone, no matter their status. Who knows when you'll meet a Doyle Malory or a Thorn's Church cultist?'
Liara eventually grumbled her way back to the caravan, dragging her feet in the black sand. The sun was hidden by the sandstorm, making it impossible to guess what time of the day it was.
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"I can't give up..." she muttered as she collapsed on a small bunk bed in one of the carriages.
Glenn nodded slowly. 'No can do, Liara. Giving up means death.'
Another Black Heir jumped into the carriage, whistling in awe as he pulled down his hood. "That's one hell of a storm. Do you think we made the ancestors angry somehow?"
Liara's golden eyes eyes brightened slightly and she sat politely to welcome her guest. She grabbed a bag filled with dried meat and held it in his direction. "Maybe we did, Salim. Did you come to get some jerky?"
Salim rolled his eyes and sat next to Liara without a care. "...Thank you, but I've had enough of this thing for a whole lifetime. Now, why don't you get rid of that royal mask of yours? I've known you all my life, I'm sure we can be casual with each other!"
Liara cocked her head to the side, politely pushing him away. “I have to respect my position, Salim. Please do so as well.”
Salim exaggeratedly rose to his feet, bowing with the swagger of a stage actor. "Then, if Your Highness permits it, I would like to discuss casually with thy royal blood our measly future...ow!" He jumped back with a grin as Liara kicked him in the leg. Her polite mask was gone, replaced by a bright smile that shone like the sun.
"Why do you keep on teasing me this way, Salim? You know I have responsibilities!"
Glenn frowned. 'Yeah, Salim, why the hell do you bother our Liara? Wait, I'm getting too invested in this. Shit, this feels like watching some sort of show! Damn it!'
Salim shrugged. "Princess of Thalorieth or not, you're still the same Liara I grew up with. And I'm sure it won't cost the kingdom's future if I just try to make Her Highness smile after an arduous training session."
Liara laughed brightly. Glenn's frown deepened but the scene suddenly changed. The black sandstorm left place to burning carriages under the twin moons' emotionless gaze. Liara fended off her attacker desperately, blood trickling down her face and blinding one of her eyes. She looked barely younger than when Glenn met her, maybe a year or two. 'This happened not that long ago.'
"Why would you do that, Salim!" She shouted in betrayal, her sword tightly clenched and her spear hovering beside her.
Salim coldly pointed his curved sword at Liara, the mark on his forehead gleaming with a harsh, pale light. "The Black Heirs are over. Our civilization is over. Just give yourself up and you'll be fine."
Liara clenched her teeth and sent her spear flying forward, aiming straight for Salim's heart. The latter deflected it with an Aura-covered sword while sending a wave of Mana-charged sand in her direction. She stopped it with her Telekinesis and barely parried his strike.
"Do you know how other people live? Humans, orcs, dwarves, or even the Celestial Gods?" Salim asked coldly.
Liara's eyes widened and she glanced back at the burning convoy, her father fending off a dozen attackers by himself. "Y- You betrayed us for the Celestial Gods? But they hunt our people! They've been stealing our territory for decades!"
Salim shook his head as black sand swirled around him violently. "Our territory? It hasn't been ours for ages. We're just nomads who survive thanks to oases and monster meat. And you call that a life?"
The Black Heir spat to the side. "Jin ursin the traditions. Fuck this lifestyle. I don't give a shit anymore. Do you know what the Celestial Gods promised me?" His expression softened and he withdrew his sword for a moment. "They said we could live together in a palace. Like true kings. We'd have servants, our food would be served on silver platters, and we'd hunt for fun, not survival!"
Liara's expression crumbled even further. "...So that's what you were chasing. Me? Salim, I trusted you with my life!" She exploded with Mana and Aura, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You betrayed us, only for some superficial life in a golden cage?"
Thalorieth's last princess rose her sword with burning fury. "I'd rather die than live with you, xoin!"
Salim's face turned red with anger and he pointed his sword at her once again. "I gave you my all, spent my entire life living next to you, learning what you like, trying to make you feel better, and pushing you forward! And that's how you thank me?"
His Aura flared up like burning flames as black sand rose behind him in the figure of a dragon. "Princess or not, today I shall make you submit!"
Liara roared as she charged forward with all her might, only for a figure to kick her to the side. Liara's eyes widened in horror as she watched Salim stab her father through the heart. He fell to his knees, coughing out blood as Salim stepped back in awe.
"Salim..." Roran Lúthalen, the last King of Thalorieth looked up at his murderer with sadness. "I rose like a son...I failed. As a king, and as a father. I'm sorry." He turned weakly to Liara and smiled the same way he would back when she was younger. "I love you, little sun."
A toge-wearing warrior with golden skin beheaded Roran without a hint of compassion. Liara fell to her knees, unable to breathe or act in any way. A Black Heir hurriedly grabbed her and ran away through the night, leaving the destroyed caravan behind. The gold-skinned warrior didn't bother following them, nor did Salim, whose eyes were stuck on Roran's headless body.
Glenn silently watched as the scene turned back into darkness, Liara's memories fading away like a mirage. His fists and teeth were tightly clenched, his lips trembling with anger. He took a long, deep breath and calmed himself down.
"...Salim. At least I know his name." His expression was cold like ice. "The Celestial Gods, too. Before, I fought them only because I was asked to. But now...Now this is personal."
He looked at the void surrounding him and grimaced, his anger fading away. "Well, I'd be more than glad to go fight one-on-civilization against them as soon as I get out of here. Would there be, perhaps, a kind soul who could help do so? Just...pull me out of this mess? Still nobody? I'm really starting to doubt the omniscient part in Gods..."
Glenn chuckled dejectedly. "Oh, who am I kidding? It's always been me, myself, and somehow, the friends who are insane enough to follow me."
He shook his head slowly. "Look at myself. Why am I always doing these self-pitying acts when I'm in some sort of hallucinatory hole like this one? That won't do. Glenn, come on, do better than that." He encouraged himself as he searched for an exit with renewed determination. Something was telling him that whatever was behind the reason he watched Liara's memories, it couldn't possibly be positive. Something was going on outside with Liara and his body, and it didn't smell good. His instincts were screaming that much.
'I lost too much time down here. If time even works properly. Felt like an hour top. No matter. Focus, Glenn, focus!'
As if summoned by his determination, a golden line appeared in the darkness. A thin rope that somehow reminded him strongly of Liara. Glenn's lips curved into a manic smile as he grabbed the rope.
"Finally, the exit. I'm back into action, baby!"
not expecting... A portrait. Of a character you all love (I think)
training. I'm not even kidding.
What do you think of my sister's artwork
