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[“Stormheart: Synapse Overdrive”]
The bolts missed his skull by a mile as he already swept the legs of the burnt elf from beneath him, moving instinctively still with those shining eyes as he ruthlessly held his hand like a blade. With a swift, merciless movement, he pierced his hand through the chest of the fallen elf, electrifying him from the inside-out.
“–“
Sirius’ eyes returned to their normal state as his expression returned, breathing out as he looked down at the elf he had taken out. The blow was an instant kill, allowing him to slowly remove his hand from the figure’s chest cavity before shaking the blood off of his glove.
‘I entered it for a second there. I hate when that happens,’ he thought.
Letting out a sigh to himself, he looked at the limp body of the hunter on the ground, left with too many questions about the nature of the person.
“I’ve definitely found myself in a weird place, haven’t I?” Sirius muttered to himself, looking up.
—
[Near The Shores]
Emilio kept his guard up while he stayed at the back, following behind Everett and the mysterious island-dweller, Maverick. With the threat of evolved beasts and other powerful beings, he didn’t risk being careless.
‘Actually, let’s keep some more eyes and ears around,’ he decided.
Stopping for a moment, he held his hand out, “Hextrice.”
Manifesting in front of him, the small, platinum-haired girl with pigtails and a black dress arrived.
“I was wondering when you’d call on me,” Hextrice folded her arms over her chest.
“Sorry I took so long,” Emilio apologized with a smile.
The response only caused the short spirit to pout as she turned her head.
“Oh! Hey, Hextrice!” Everett greeted the spirit, waving his hand with a laugh.
Noticing the spirit as well, the bearded-man was surprised, “You can use spirits? What kind of magic savant are you, really?”
“It’s nothing like that,” Emilio brushed off.
As they continued moving on, he also conjured the four lesser spirits, keeping as many eyes out as he could in case of any prowling foes. It wasn’t many steps until the shore was found, stepping out through a bundle of trees and onto the region of moist sand.
“Woah! Izzat the ocean?!” Everett reacted.
Stretching for what seemed to be a boundless distance was the great, blue sea, though it was closed off by what initially looked like the azure sky itself.
Emilio stepped onto the shore, looking in the distance at the colossal waves that walled in the island from a distance, “Yeah, but what’s that about? Those waves are the size of skyscrapers–I mean, mountains.”
The man scratched his red beard, “That’s what makes this island what it is: hard to get to, harder to get out of. There’s not a boat in all of the ten seas that can fare the waters around this island.”
The shielder’s question was one that Emilio had been quietly wondering himself as well, turning his attention to the red-bearded man.
Maverick smiled, walking up to the tide that crept upon the shore, allowing the water to brush up against his boots, “I swam.”
“Huh?” Emilio and Everett both reacted.
It seemed like a joke, or at least a very far out there, simplification of what really happened, but the bearded man’s expression didn’t waver as if it were a lie.
“Boats will get swept up by waves, but…If it’s just you swimming on through, waves won’t catch you,” Maverick explained, “That’s how I reached this island.”
“That’s pretty crazy,” Everett remarked.
“All to become a sage, huh?” Emilio quietly said.
Through the lengths that Maverick seemed to go in order to chase the opportunity of becoming a sage, Emilio felt he undermined just what sort of titanic effort it would take to become one.
Maverick looked towards the walled sea, “Being a sage is a lot more than just the power you obtain. It’s about becoming more fine tuned with the world around you—becoming a sentinel willing to fight for it.”
“So, a sage is somebody that protects the world?” Everett asked.
The red-bearded man smiled, “Yeah, in a lot of different ways, too. My Gramps wanted to become a sage so that he could provide protection for the wildlife in our homeland. If I become one, I want to safekeep endangered plants.”
For the man who had only recently become acquainted with the concept of sages, it was interesting to hear about them. Emilio found that it seemed like the proper path for him: a natural continuation of himself.
“Protecting the world, huh? Sounds a lot like what we do already,” Emilio remarked, looking at the sea.
Standing beside him, the heavy-armored shielder laughed, “That’s what I was thinkin’! We’re made for this sage business!”
“The world doesn’t need protecting. What happens is the natural course, I suppose,” Hextrice said, turning away from the others.
Emilio glanced back at his familiar, letting out a small sigh, “Always the pessimist.”
The fantastical sights of Arcadius were something that never became dull for him; maybe normal, but never boring. Still, looking at the titanic waves that perpetually stood as walls in the distance around the island, he felt that same magical excitement as when he first came to this world.
‘…Asher told me that this world is just as much our home as Earth was. I think he was wrong—to me, this world was more of a home than Earth ever was for me; that’s why I’ll protect it at all costs,’ he resolved.
It was a thought that never left his mind; a meaning that never dulled–it was by perhaps a miracle, or a passing coincidence, that he happened to be the one born as the “Dragonheart”, but he knew that in this world, now his very own, it was his duty to protect it. That unchanging resolve was perhaps the one drive he could anchor himself to, past all of the obscenities of the fantastical, yet harrowing world.