UPON WATCHING over the letters disappeared in the sky, Maze trailed his previous steps and went to the edge, his boots almost nudging the bloodied water. Without further thinking, he hopped on a boat and grasped the oars.
The further I am from those Children, the safer I am.
He felt the heavy, water-logged wood of the oars as he pulled them into position. With a forceful shove against the slick, crimson bank, he pushed the boat into the center of the bloodied swamp. He sat at the helm, his back to the island of black grass, and began to row.
Each stroke of the oars cut through the crimson liquid, the sound of the rippling blood the only companion to his breathing. He leaned his body forward, dipping the blades deep, and then pulled back with the strength of his entire frame.
Maze almost sighed.
If he had been loitering around that expanse, he would have surely been an attraction.
After all, why would there be boats in the first place?
Before he knew it, a crow had descended toward his direction as he steered the boat. Other vessels on the water shifted slightly upon his forward sail. This crow, as Maze scrutinized it, carried some parchment by its claws. It stopped in front of him. Maze took the parchment and opened it. There were instructions written below what seemed to be a symbol he had seen somewhere.
A crescent moon cradling an eye.
The instructions were as followed:
「THE CEREMONY WELCOMES YOU.
To the Child,
Here are seven rules to survive your impending doom, one by which could let you open the Door. Failure to follow the rules results in death.
One, you can harm a Child.
Two, you shall not kill a Child.
Three, you shall not roam the central land.
Four, you shall not steer too much.
Five, you shall not stray by the morrow's noon.
Six, you shall find the key to roam the central land.
Seven, you shall open the door.
The key cannot be stolen from a Child who has found it. There are thirty keys in total scattered in the six little lands surrounding the central land where the Door stood, but as it is scattered, even the Dark Entities are lurking. Defeat them and you will be rewarded.
Remember, there are Eyes watching.
We will wait for your arrival.
May the blessing be upon you, Child.
May you saw what you reap.
Praise be to the Gods of Yonder and Below!
With Utmost Sincerity,
The Directors
PS. Find a weapon of your own choosing, that you may prove your worth. Godspeed!」
Maze felt the weight of the parchment. He looked at the rules once more. One, you can harm a Child. Children could not kill each other, but how so?
If harming was necessary, why was killing prohibited, especially when elimination, according to Vaelstrom, secretly meant an omen of death? And there it was. He must not steer too much and must find the key by this day or night, and evenly within the morrow's noon. But what dread could there have been, save for the dread of the Dark Entities?
What even were they?
They were already lurking . . .
But—
Before Maze could even react, a surge of crimson gale whipped over the surroundings, causing the ground and the water to vibrate. It made the boat steer on its own, pushed by the wind, and before it could cease—
CRAAACK!
The boat crashed against the rocky steep of another little land of withering trees, plunging Maze onto the surface and slamming him against a bark. Thud! Grimacing, Maze endured the pain and attempted to stand.
"What the hell was that?" Maze murmured with a groan, as he retrieved the parchment lying on the rocks and proceeded to enter the mouth of the barren forest.
It was a mercy there was no mist here, as that would have been far more fearsome.
When he looked back, he saw the Yonder Children soaked in the swamp. Others attempted to reach the central land once more, but a crimson surge pushed them back into the mire. While the majority were now taking or steering boats, some were even heading in his direction.
Having been watching behind the trees, it was better than being seen.
Maze walked deeper. The trees were not dense, leaving space to lurk. Although he saw no Dark Entity, Maze remained aware lest he should stumble upon one. Here and there, the ground was dried and cracked, as if the earth hungered for a drop of rain.
As he went on, he heard a rustle ahead.
Three figures in red uniforms surrounded a woman clad in a grey uniform. They were tall, but not as tall as Maze, and they possessed lean frames. The woman, on the other hand, was three inches shorter.
"Filthy wench!" one of the boys cursed, situated between the other two. "Give up the damn key and screw off!"
Huh, one already possesses a key. Maze's brows met. But think about it, not everyone went to the central land, as I have seen merely twenty or so Yonder Children.
"You idiots, have you not read the parchment?" A sharp, feminine voice asked calmly, as there was not a hint of fear in her tone. "Must I explain the necessity?"
"Whatever, Child of Time, that jackal key is still inside that little chest, is it not?"
Maze leaned on a tree meters away from the scene. He could clearly see a slender, doll-like woman with buggy eyes and shoulder-length straight hair. Her plum lips were smeared in black, and she wore no expression.
Embracing the chest, she raised a thick eyebrow.
"Being greedy just because of one chest. You are a bit overboard, do you not think so?" she asked, as if giving a lecture. "Is this how you pay respect to someone older than you?"
"So are you the pitiful wench who is cleansed?" The boy on the left scoffed. "Damn, what is wrong with you?!"
"If you give us the key, we would not bother you anymore and leave you unscathed—"
Without any reluctance, the woman threw the chest into the air, and the three figures widened their eyes.
"You crazy woman!" The boy on the right lunged to punch her, she who was supposed to be a Child of Time, but she quickly stepped sideways and avoided the blow. He stumbled forward, his face kissing the drought-parched earth!
The other two stepped back several times to create momentum.
"The instructions said we can harm a Child, you dumb wench!" yelled the boy on the left and dashed forward, biting his hand until blood seeped out.
The trickle of blood began to form into a thick, thorned thread. He lashed it toward the woman, but she stood and waited for the thread to whip her frame, or so he thought. As she spread her arm forward, two parallel zigzag lines within a circle appeared before her, halting the prickly thread in mid-air.
However, the other was already inches beside her, aiming a kick at her stomach. Her other hand, casting the same symbol, stopped the kick midway. Sensing a presence behind her, she delivered a kick of her own before the third could even cast his own ability. She pushed the other two away, and they eventually plunged into separate tree trunks.
"Each of you bore the same Heritage," the woman clicked her tongue, "and you dare attack me at once?"
They looked up and saw the chest still in mid-air.
"How is that possible?!"
"From which Heritage are you?!"
"Leave," the woman glared at them, "foolish Children of Sufferance."
The three fled in separate ways.
The woman averted her gaze upward and spread a palm where the hovering chest dropped on.
"You have been watching me." It was not even a question as she spoke that, now glancing at the blind man with foil gold blindfold, wearing a black uniform, as he leaned on the tree; then, her lips twitched. "Uh . . . You are not watching me . . . ?"
Maze heard her murmur something like, [". . . blind?"], and ["he looks like an Orphan"], but he could not guess the right words.
It is good that she is doubting whether I can see.
The woman opened the chest and slid a ring onto her finger.
"I hear you got the ring."
Maze observed the woman, who was now scrutinizing him, on the other hand.
"Well, at least you are not deaf." The woman threw away the chest and turned her back to him. "Follow me. You can at least sense the surroundings, correct? If not, how did you arrive here, in the first place?"
Maze flinched.
I am more than interested in your powers than you bossing me around out of the blue.
"Forget it. Perhaps you do not want a key."
"I shall follow."
Of course he would.
Why would he reject such offer?
He was a poor, blind man, after all.
But that was a facade.
Help was unnecessary this time around, as he was merely going to observe and watch. More than anything else was gaining knowledge. Such was the way of one with a mark still unknown, making an advantage out of its disadvantage.
Heritage . . . Now, what can I learn from here on?