IRA EMERSON ELYSIAN

Father was losing his mind.

Edric Elvin Elysian, holder of seven renèi possessions, the one who had defeated armies of Ezèrian using his strategic mind, the one who won every war he ever fought, the one who had restored Elysia when nobody believed he could, was now sitting with his head bent down, hands grasping the ends of his dark hair.

I had never seen father like that, so defeated, and so lost.

My father wasn't the most affectionate to me while growing up -- but this was the man I had grown up with. Mother never cast a glance at me unless I had gone up to her, begging for her to notice me, and before my step-mother married my father, it was father who noticed my existence. It didn't matter to me if he was gentle with me or not, or if he even loved me at all, or he just simply wanted me to be a renèi Possessor -- but at least, he had looked at me.

The reason why I was the strongest swordsman of Elysia was because of him, because he spent his time with me practicing, when he could have used it to something more useful, like his other sons or his kingdom, anything other than me. It was him who spectated all my spars, all my tournaments, all my battles -- be it small, or big, despite having the busiest schedules. He never smiled at me when I won, but he would give a nod from afar when I was announced as the winner, and I would bow at that, just to hide my grin. And that was enough for me.

"You're going to be a great swordsman. I know it." He had said to me, and that was all it took for me to become the greatest swordsman Elysia had ever seen.

Father believed in me even when I was a Naught, when I didn't even know how to grab a sword without its weight dragging me down. Father was the first person to ever acknowledge me.

So, seeing him like that, so broken down, and so helpless, my heart screamed with a profound anger towards Elliot. I would find Elliot, even if I had to go down the depths of hell and drag him out of there, and bring him to father.

I walked towards him, bending my knee, my head hanging low. "Father, let me go," I said. "I will find him for you."

He looked away, frowning. "I can not. It is not safe for you to be out now," even while he was in distress, his voice still sounded rigid, dominant, and fearsome. "Stay in. I will let my men handle this."

"Every time you sent me to a mission, I never failed. I can bring him back--"

"It is different this time. The kingdom is in an uproar. The Ezèrian are not the only enemies now. The neighboring countries want answers, and some of them want my head," Father explained. "The Eirlys empire has cut all ties with me. They will not help us. We are completely alone in this, and stepping a foot outside the palace will mean instant death since the rebels are out with no fear, and they know there is no one to report their existences anymore,"

"They are only out in Ezèria, no? They haven't arrived in the capital yet, I do not think so," I said with a frown.

"It will not take long for the Ezèrian to march here. They are Ezèrian, underestimating them will only get us killed," Father said without hesitation. Father knew what his enemies were, hence why he was always calculated, and knew what to do next, but no amount of skills and calculations could've ever prepared him for what Elliot had done that day.

I knew something was about to happen that day, I knew Elliot was desperate, but this? That was something that even the gods sitting in their thrones couldn't have expected. That was something Father could've never prepared for, no matter how many cautions he were given. That was unescapable.

Elliot had made history by doing what he had done. He had Ezèrian ready to drop at his feet just by declaring his identity. He had raised an army without even doing anything at all.

He had divided the country in two sides: one ready to sever his head, and another ready to sever heads for him.

Does Elliot have any notion of what he has done?

"You should have killed him when he was born," the words rolled out of my mouth incautiously, causing father to give me a long, dark look, his eyes tired, yet fierce.

"Could you have killed your own son right after he came out of his mother's womb? Even if he was a monster?" he stood up, and I realised then how tall father was -- none of us reached his height -- I was the closest, but I was still a few inches shorter than him. "Could you have done that, Emerson?"

I realised how cruel my words sounded, but in a way it was true. I did not take back my words. "Before you married mother, you promised your subjects that if you were to bore an Ezèrian child, you would either bury it himself or change the child into something acceptable," I reminded him.

Look of surprise flickered upon my father's eyes. "You did not fill any of your promises, and now your subjects are angry because they have found out the truth. But send me now to find your son, and I will get him to your feet. I can fix this if you allow me to. Just say the words."

"You have learned to talk, Emerson," he said with a sly smile, as if he was impressed by me. "But my answer remains no. You are an asset of mine, and I can not risk that."

I tried to argue once more, but father simply raised his hand, and that meant this conversation had come to an end.

I left, feeling defeated. Elliot and I may have made a few deals, but this was a whole different case. Elliot had wrecked my country, he had distressed father and was a potential reason for any upcoming war. It didn't matter to me what secrets of mine he had hiding beneath his sleeves, what threats he was giving me, because just like me, I also had his secrets hidden beneath my feathers.

And right now, only I knew where he truly was.

The moment Elliot stepped out of the Grand Hall, I knew exactly what he was going to do: use his Portal Creation to escape and since even the greatest armies of my father couldn't track him down, it only meant my guess was right. Elliot wasn't even in this world anymore, let alone Elysia and I wish I could tell that to father, so he would top wasting his time on trying to find him.

The only right thing to do right now would be to wait for Elliot in the meadow twenty-four hours, until we saw him coming out of the portal.

There were not many things I knew about Portal Creations, but some things were basic knowledge: such as the portal only opened in certain areas, the place where an individual opens a portal for the first time became its permanent place to open it. Any other place than that would not work. And for Elliot, that place was the meadow.

Since Elliot still wasn't found, it meant that he hadn't opened the portal from the other side yet. Meaning we still had the chance to capture Elliot the moment he would step into Elysia. Meaning we could bring him to father and have this issue fixed. We could avoid having an unnecessary war that would bring no profit.

Except, I didn't have the luxury of revealing Elliot's little secret.

Hence, I would do it myself.

I would go to the meadow myself.

And as for Elliot's Protection Spell, I would break it myself.

Elliot would be a fool to not realise by now that his Protection Spell was weakening, and it didn't take me days to know why. The cost of Protection Spell was absence of any kind of power that could defend him. We all knew his Portal Creations never worked as a defense mechanism because of its unreliability, but now, for an unknown reason, it was working, and he used it defend himself.

His body must have sensed it, alongside his Protection Spell, it had to, or else nothing could have explained why his force shields shook upon father's strike of sword, how it looked like it would shatter itself if it was given a bit more force, how it looked so fragile and just . . . weak.

The more he used his Portal Creations to defend himself, the more his Protection spell weakened, and eventually, it would dispel itself.

And I could cause that.

I could break it.

I will break it.

I would break it, and after doing that, Elliot would have no choice but to give in because he didn't know a shit about defending himself with weapons, if he even carried it all. He would have to give in to my sword beneath his chin, and follow me to the palace. I would throw his face at father's feet, have him apologise and then take back all his words in front of all of Elysia.

Yes, that would be it.

I did not think any longer, and walked past all the chambers of the hallway, reaching my room. The Ezèrian wasn't there, and I was relieved of that. I could take her along with me, but that would only end up with me not being able to focus at all, letting my guards down, and engaging in unnecessary talks that would serve me no profit at all. I would end up looking at her, wondering and wondering, thinking and thinking, about how could someone like her be real at all.

Taking the Ezèrian wouldn't be necessary.

I released my renèi possession, the wings sprouting within seconds, without causing any internal pain. I could fly for hours if the state of my back stayed like that. The wings flapped, as I reached the window, opening it wide, watching how the civilians, all of them being renèi Possessor and Naughts, were scattered across the fields, demanding Elliot's head on the spike for being an Ezèrian, demanding my father to come out and give them answers, demanding why they were lied to. Hundreds of them were standing in front of the Great Entry, yelling and cursing at the top of their lungs, while the guards remained strictly still, just like how my father had ordered.

He had ordered to not hurt any civilian, no matter how violent they were, no matter how much they cursed his name. Any soldier who would dare to harm a civilian physically, would end up with his neck beneath my father's sword.

And so, no soldier moved from their spot, no matter how many times a civilian stomped on their feet, threw rocks at them, cursed their entire generation, threatened to use renèi Possession against them despite knowing very well their skills stood no chance against the soldiers. The soldiers only defended themselves.

I tried to look beyond the Great Entry, beyond the horizon, where Ezèria was situated, where the Ezèrian were probably swarming while hailing Elliot's name, marching to Elysia, but I saw nothing. I only saw quiet clouds, contrasting to what was happening in the ground, and saw huts and trees scattered, but not a single Ezèrian.

The march of Ezèrian had not occurred yet.

But if it had happened already, what would they do? Would they attack the subjects who tormented them all these years? Would they tear apart Elysia after all? Would they burn down the Elisora Palace? Would they cause another massacre?

Those thoughts were enough for me to jump from the window, my wings helping me stay afloat as I flew as fast as I could, to the direction of the meadow. My wings had regained their usual speed, thanks to the Ezèrian, but I still flew slowly, just to spot any Ezèrian, and when I found none, I went straight to the meadow, landing on the soft grass slowly, terminating my renèi, as a few feathers landed on the ground, the air floating them away as soon as their tips touched the soil.

It was odd, but I felt a strong presence there, as if someone was hiding somewhere beneath the bushes, or behind that willow tree, or under the lake that the Ezèrian had made, or maybe it was just me being cautious. But I kept my head clear, my grip secured in the scabbard firmly.

There was no guarantee of Elliot arriving today or tonight, but I was sure of one thing: Elliot had not yet opened the portal, meaning I could be the first person he would see upon landing here. And I would wait -- today, tomorrow, the day after, until he saw me as the first person from the other side of the portal. He may even try to close the portal, but I would tear it apart to get to him. I would get--

A red speck appeared out of thin air, crackling against the air.

Is he here?

It burned, glowing brightly, as if a piece of the sun had fallen here, as it multiplied itself, increasing its numbers in a growing rate. I stood back, my eyes wide in astonishment, watching the specks now grow into a number I could no longer count. The specks formed a door, of a circle, getting bigger by each second, glimmering as strongly as the setting sun in front of me.

This is what Elliot is capable of?

The Ezèrian would regard him as a god for being able to do that.

The blinding light from the portal did not stop me from unsheathing my sword, the metallic sound piercing against the calm air around me. I spread my right foot across the soil, gripping the sword with all my force, and facing the portal.

A figure emerged from the portal, followed by another, but that didn't matter me -- what mattered was that Elliot was here.

His face held disappointment, as if he just lost a bet, but no look of surprise. He was still standing inside the portal, as I noticed a change in his hair -- it was even shorter than mine, almost as same as Ezèkiel, and his outfits were the most peculiar -- wearing a piece of cloth that had its arms cut out, revealing his arms and some verses written at the center of his chest, in a language I had never seen. Upon inspecting him further, I noticed he wielded no weapons, not that it mattered, but at least, now it would take less time to capture him.

"Ira--" the sound of his voice filled me with rage as I stepped forward.

Before he could even step out from the portal, I striked him with my sword.