When they had passed the group, Lyn actually spoke unprompted for once – a rarity. “If you two ever become Legends”, he said in that deep, solemn voice of his, “you will need to learn the protocol for interacting with civilians. That is – to not interact if at all possible. The essence of a Legend is the image. While we let ourselves be seen, we do not speak to, acknowledge, or make eye-contact with civilians if at all possible. In this way, we underline the difference between us and preserve the higher order. We are on an entirely different mission, and we have to conduct ourselves on a higher, independent plane as a result. But I’m sure two Dreamcasters of your caliber, untrained as you are, already understand this.”
Lyght frowned, extremely put off by this remark – a veritable speech by Lyn’s standards. While Lyght had trouble maintaining the extroversion and outward-confidence that Mikael naturally displayed, he did think his friend generally interacted with people the right way. What was the point of having incredible powers or being in the Legion, if you were supposed to cut yourself off from ordinary people? Lyght would just have to wait and see other Legends before he rushed to a judgment – his gut told him that Lyn was a special case. Of course he wouldn’t like interacting with others, but that didn’t mean his tendencies would necessarily be universal in the revered Legion. Lyght had trouble seeing how a group that would cut themselves off like that would become so universally respected, and even worshipped.
Mikael actually laughed out loud before Lyght could say anything, however. Lyght cringed a little – you didn’t just laugh at a Legend. He would have thought even Mikael knew that. Apparently not. Or maybe he just didn’t care, because he went on without a second thought, “Don’t give me that nonsense. I don’t believe that just because we have a special ability, or special training, we get to ignore those who don’t. The way I see it”, he glanced over at Lyght, “and the way Lyght sees it too, is that these ‘ordinary people’ are the ones who make it possible for us to become extraordinary in the first place.”
Mikael drew himself up, looking at Lyn, waiting for a response, but none came. The Legend just stared at the approaching dark steel towers in the center of Glory, a solemn and wistful look on his face. Lyght wasn’t even sure if he had paid attention to what Mikael had said in response. If he had, he didn’t show it. Seeing his silence, Mikael just shook his head and turned to Lyght, “I tried. Can’t say I didn’t do that. What do you think, Lyght? Care to jump in on this philosophical debate on the role of leaders in our society? That’s the kind of thing you like to read about, right?”
Lyght just shook his head and changed the subject, “Where are we headed, Lyn? Are we going to the center of the city?”
Lyn was a few seconds in answering. When he did, he looked down at Lyght and nodded. “We are en route to your quarters in what we call “the Heart” – the center of city, those dark steel buildings that you see ahead. The Belt surrounds the Heart in a three-quarter circle, and the Heart borders on the channel and the Central Bridge, and controls access to both. Your living quarters – for the duration of your time at the Legion Academy – are located in the Royal Hotel on the waterfront.”
Mikael pumped a fist behind Lyn’s back, and Lyght had to smile a little. After several weeks spent camping out in the open, their tents not doing enough to entirely stop the deluge of acid rain nightly, a warm bed and a sheltered room would be very welcome. Although Lyght wasn’t as open with his reaction, he felt a surge of gratitude at the thought.
After a few moments, Lyn continued speaking, “Don’t check out yet though. I know the Heart doesn’t look very far from here, but it actually is. The Belt really is massive, and covers almost the entirety of this peninsula. It’s not for nothing that Glory is far and away the most populous city in the Dreamscape, you know.”
And it did indeed seem to take longer than Lyght had anticipated, as they rode on mostly in silence throughout the rest of the morning, and through the afternoon as well. Evening was coming on when Mikael groaned and spoke for the first time in hours, “Damn. How big is this city? I thought we were minutes from the center this morning, and we’re still not even there yet. How can I even tell if we’re close? I thought those dark steel buildings looked big before, but we weren’t even close then. They’re huge now.”
Lyght definitely could see what Mikael meant. Before, Lyght had been impressed with the intricately crafted, yet massive dark steel city center ahead. However, hours and hours later, and closer still to the structures, they appeared now to be nothing less than the most massive things Lyght had ever laid eyes upon – excluding the statue of the King in the channel. Most, if not all of the buildings pierced the low clouds that had rolled in a couple hours ago, and they increasingly made the Belt below look more and more insignificant.
However, they were not much longer in finally getting to the Heart of the city. Within the hour, as the sun was sinking low on the horizon, the three companions rode up to a massive dark steel gate – hundreds of feet tall – with gold leaf plating forming an intricate twisting flame pattern across the bars; the King’s royal insignia. Lyght craned his neck to look upward, and was so intent on taking in the beautiful architecture that he almost missed the guard posted below say “Ah, Lyn! Welcome back! New recruits, I see?”
Lyght lowered his gaze, frowning, to look at the guard who was speaking. There was something… odd in his voice that had confused Lyght when he first heard it. What was it? He sounded a bit like Mikael in a way… commanding, confident. Odd traits for a city guard.
The guard in question was quite tall – a bit taller than Mikael, even, but not on Lyn’s level. He seemed to be a bit older than Lyn’s, perhaps; in his early thirties or so. He had jet black hair shot through with silver, and stormy gray eyes that were intense, yet curious. Despite the silver streak in his hair, and the slight slouch in his walk, the man seemed young enough. Come to think of it, Lyght hadn’t seen why he had necessarily assumed the individual to be a guard. Because he was posted at the gate, maybe? In any event, he might have been waiting for them in particular, for he was not in standard military uniform. Instead, he wore an elegant, finely cut cloak of jet black – accented with silver – and matching boots. He wasn’t armed, which also seemed odd. His straight-backed, confident posture indicated that he was not worried about it.
“You can follow me.” With a motion, the tall man signaled to someone posted atop the massive gates, and seconds later the swung open slowly, with a massive grating sound, before sliding to a stop with a boom, leaving a space plenty wide enough for them to head through.
The man did not have a horse himself, so they had to dismount and walk their horses through the city as they headed towards the waterfront, which was not very far now. This worked fine, in a way, because their horses were exhausted by this point. Lyght was torn strongly between staring around in awe at the dark steel towers soaring around them – intricately carved with flowing artistic designs, statues, waterfalls, even gardens – and examining their oddly compelling guide. The man spoke up as they walked, making the decision a little easier.
“I hear that neither of you have been to Glory before”, he said in his soft, yet commanding voice. Lyght frowned. How does he know that? He continued nonetheless, “So you’ve probably never seen dark steel before. It’s one of our specialties in Pride – we use it for our most important cities, and even for certain weapons. Don’t ask how it’s made though; only the King knows that. And unfortunately, I don’t think he is likely to tell anyone.”
As they continued walking, the tall man described the buildings they passed – the Central Bank, the Citadel (the main base of the military), the Senate chambers, the Legion headquarters, and much more. The attention to detail with these buildings, considering their monstrous size, absolutely astounded Lyght. At any given point on a building, flowing scenes of battle (likely involving the formation of the Dreamscape, Lyght figured), feasts, or stories were etched out in the finest detail, reaching all the way up to
the cloud level above, which still shrouded the upper third of the buildings.
But none compared to Triumph, the palace and stronghold of King Decimader Vuruman. Scintillating even under the overcast sky, the tower of pure diamond pierced the clouds like a shard, slanting narrower as it shot upward. Although he couldn’t see now because of the clouds, Lyght knew from what he had seen earlier, when they were farther away, that Triumph rose higher; much higher than any other structure in Glory – nearly to the level of the statue. When they had first seen it, Lyght had been fascinated to see that the tip of the building was clouded by what was clearly Dark – he hadn’t been able to remotely see through the diamond up there.
They reached the waterfront in relatively short order, and only had to pass two more buildings before they reached the hotel. After the massive structures they had passed, the hotel seemed small and quaint. It was anything but, however, soaring over a hundred stories into the air, with countless rooms complete with balconies all around. This must service the entirety of the visiting population to the Heart of the city.
“This is where we leave you”, their tall man escort said in his oddly charismatic voice, clapping Lyn on the shoulder as a hotel employee led their horses away. The wind kicked up, coming off the channel, and blew the man’s black hair around of his intense gray eyes.
Lyght met them for a moment, and felt and odd… connection. A strongly emotional one. His heart started going faster, and he had to work to keep his composure. What was going on? He felt like he had known this man very well – as a child or something – and had forgotten about him. Yes, he felt like he knew him very well. But from where? Lyght gritted his teeth in annoyance, trying to remember. Where had he seen this man?
The moment broke as the man glanced out toward the channel at the statue. Lyght followed his gaze, then experienced a shock.
Wait a second…
“Best of luck in your future. I’ll see you again soon, I think. I look forward to it.”
With no explanation, the man turned, nodded to Lyn to follow, and left – wind whipping his black cloak behind him like a shadow.
Chapter Eighteen
Blue snow blew past the dirty window in the dying light, drifting in deep swirling mounds against the sides of the steel building, building slowly higher by the minute. The icy tempest roared and swirled, high winds and driving snow rendering the deep blue mountains in the distance barely visible. The structure of the old steel building groaned mightily as the gale blasted it head on, screaming like a steel titan in its death throes. Aside from the guttering lamplight, all was deep blue and blackness. Wind whistled shrilly through the cracks in the old window, and the steel floor burned with cold, sending spikes of numbness through shoes of any thickness. A barely visible, massive pine bent violently below, icy tears whipping off it as it verged on being ripped out of the frozen ground it was rooted in.
“Seth? Seth, are you even listening?”
The large young man named Seth, seated before a dark wooden table in a chair turned backwards – his arms resting on the chair back – started slightly and looked around from his contemplation of the outside to look at his friend who had spoken. Seth met his eyes to indicate that he was listening, and continued to spin his dagger around on the table; wishing they could break up this meeting and go somewhere warmer. Unfortunately, that didn’t look to be happening in the immediate future. The young man standing before the table speaking jumped back into what he was saying and continued on, gesturing into the air and pacing back and forth.
Although Seth knew this young man very well, he still found it useful to observe even the little details about him. The more you knew, you more you could do, one of Seth’s old mentors had always been fond of saying. Seth liked to consider himself very observant by nature. And one certainly needed all their wits about them when dealing with this one before them – a certain young man named Troy.
Anything but ordinary, Troy’s force of personality and impressive presentation preceded him. Everyone who had heard of the Dream Syndicate’s leader, even if they hadn’t met him, knew of his famed charisma and natural penchant for leadership. He would have, in Seth’s opinion, bordered on outright arrogant… if he hadn’t been so damn good. No matter what you said about him, you could not take that away.
The leader of the Dream Syndicate surprised a lot of people who didn’t know a lot about him or the organization – for starters, he was only twenty-one years old. Tall, athletic, and carelessly attractive – just like his twin sister, sitting to his right at the moment – Troy was one of those people that when he talked, you listened.
Well, unless you had known him for years like Seth, who – to be honest – didn’t even want to be here right now. Seth had known Troy and his twin sister Kiara for over five years now. He truly enjoyed working with them, he really did, but he just didn’t feel exactly like having a strategy meeting at the moment. Seth was not one easily distracted, so it spoke volumes that he had trouble focusing in on Troy.
Details, details. Look, observe. Understand.
Unfortunately for Seth, the details were not too interesting or unique right now. Troy wore his usual sleeveless black shirt, with pull-on black sleeves covering from just above his elbows down his forearms, and up to his wrists. Apparently he wore these for warmth against the bitter high northern cold, but Seth tended to think it was more for appearance’s sake. One the exposed portion of his upper right arm, Troy had an elaborate “D” tattoo, as well as a matching “S” one on his left – standing for “Dream Syndicate”, the organization that was Troy’s true passion and life meaning, as well as Seth’s. It was the organization they both led together, along with Kiara and one other person. Although it was stressful sometimes, Seth loved it, he really did. If nothing else, Seth just liked the companionship of it all.
As Seth watched, Troy pushed his long brown hair to the side as he gestured at a map behind him, clearing up his vision for those fascinating, deep purple eyes of his – another thing that made him and his twin sister so revered and mysterious in the northern domains. Seth admittedly found the color odd, but he guessed he just knew the two of them all too well to see them with this same mystique. He was used to them after all these years. They didn’t have quite the same powerful effect on him as he had seen them have on others. Typically.
Seth forced himself to focus in on Troy’s speech as well. He was pointing to a map of the northern domains detailing the domains of Hate, Sorrow, Confusion, and Fear – the latter being Seth’s Domain of origin. Troy and Kiara had grown up with separate parents in the early years of their life, in the domains of Hate (Troy) and Sorrow (Kiara). The last individual in the room with them, Iridia (or Iri, for short) – sitting back now in her chair with her boots up on the table, looking as bored as Seth felt – was from Confusion, rounding out the last of the domains. The four original founders and leaders of the Dream Syndicate hailed one from each northern domain, and had started the organization just over five years ago, in their teenage years. It still astounded Seth sometimes how far they had come.
Troy went on in that self-assured, confident voice of his, “…and so we’ve made significant gains over the past few weeks in chasing back those in Hate, Sorrow, and Confusion. The exception, and as of now it is a very significant one, is in the Fear domain. Unfortunately, enemy numbers still remain at nearly a dozen in the deepest reaches of our territory, and that’s troublesome. Very troublesome.”
Troy looked at Seth with those deep purple eyes of his, frowning. “What’s going on up there, Seth? I thought our plan would drive the enemies out of your domain first, since they were furthest out and wouldn’t want to be cut off from their allies. I hate to say that they haven’t retreated, not one bit. I hesitate to bring this up but… you are trying to carry out the plan, aren’t you? You’re usually so successful; I have a hard time seeing you struggle with this, even considering who we’re up against.” Troy stopped for a moment, thinking, then drew himself up and cont
inued on, self-assured as always, “I’m sorry Seth, but until such time as you actually decide to help us here, I think we’re really going to have to…”
Seth jumped up all of a sudden, kicking his chair – hard – and sending it crashing into the wall, drawing a startled reaction from Iridia and even a look of concern from Kiara. They all knew what he was capable of. Seth knew Troy had just been about to have him turn over command for the Fear domain on this mission, perhaps to himself or his sister. Well, Seth wasn’t having it. Those were his people, not Troy’s. As much as he loved the guy, he needed to understand that.
Seth walked over to Iri and held his hand out, still looking at Troy. “Oh, come on, do we really have to…?”, Iri started, but stopped at the look Seth gave her. Sighing and closing her eyes, she drew out the foot-long, dagger-like giant pen sheathed at her waist – her “Ink Sword”, the channel of focus for her Dreamcasting power. Seth could not use it as a fraction well as Iridia, but it would suit his purpose now. Walking slowly up to Troy, letting him feel the tension of the moment, Seth stopped right in front of him and looked down into his deep purple eyes. Even though Troy was fairly tall, Seth was taller. Faster and stronger too. It wasn’t for nothing that he was the lethal assassin known as “Zero”, a mysterious figure in all-black known to be the most efficient and effective in the North.
No one outside of his friends here connected the fearful Zero with Seth, or so he hoped. He liked to keep his two identities separate. Or, he liked to think he did.
Regardless of all of this, Troy did not seem intimidated in the slightest by Seth. This was probably because he knew Seth was a friend, but also because Troy didn’t really get frightened. Or at least, he didn’t show it. Seth had never known anyone quite like his friend Troy; he didn’t seem to fear anything. Some would say Seth didn’t either, but they would be wrong. He had grown up in fear – literally (the domain), and figuratively. He knew fear, he understood it. He had lived it. And he hated it. However, he also knew that Zero inspired fear, perhaps more than any other living person in the North. Seth could never forgive himself for that.
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