IT SEEMED AS THOUGH the heavens and the earth might collapse under the weight of the rigid, statue-like posture Gareth maintained. He sat at the table reserved for the Siblings of his Tower, veiled in his robe and mask. With arms folded tightly, he remained retreated into a world of his own silence, oblivious to the lively discourse of those surrounding him.
"Hai-yaa! Tell me about it, tell me about it~" A feminine voice rose from the figure seated beside the nearly giant Gareth. She was cloaked in the same attire as the rest, her tone playful and clearly intended to tease. "Our Brother Gareth was truly marvelous, was he not? Jubilee, Jubilee — tell them! Recount to them what you shared with me~"
"Observe the dark aura emanating from this giant," remarked a boyish voice. This was Jubilee, who had removed his mask to reveal an innocent countenance and soft features. His eyes possessed a natural sparkle, as if distant stars were visible within their pitch-dark depths. Despite his slim frame, he appeared far from frail. "Very well, I shall indulge you," he said, clearing his throat. "It happened thus—"
"Ahem." Gareth finally interjected, his voice heavy with irritation. "Hesperia, what is it you desire?" he asked the girl to his left. To his right sat Quintin, and all three hailed from the Heritage of the Anchor. "If I were to be honest, I am in no mood for this."
He released a sharp snort, for the memory of his conduct before the Orphan still plagued him. He recalled how he had presented the invitation to the 'respectable and highly revered' Mr. Maze. That vicious crow had surely set him up!
Even now, the scene remained engraved in his mind, along with a lingering sense of profound embarrassment.
He was glad he had fled before his ears could turn a deeper shade of crimson. He wondered what Mr. Maze must think of him now. Perhaps it was for the best that he had made a swift departure.
He released a long, weary sigh.
"Tch, continue, Jubilee!" Hesperia commanded, waving her hand as if to dismiss Gareth's grumpiness. "Tell them how he contended with the Father Darkness!"
"Well, it was somewhat like this," Jubilee gestured with his hand across the table, his thumb and forefinger a mere inch apart, "and this represents the small measure of aid Ember and I provided." He chuckled and nudged the lean youth to his right. "Ember, Ember — you should be the one to tell it."
"Why must it be me?!"
"Simply do so! It brings me such mirth."
"You are truly something, dragging me into the mischief of you and Hesperia." Had Ember been without a mask, a visible grimace would surely have been seen. "Speak it yourself."
"Hey, do not be a spoilsport!" Jubilee snapped, patting his companion's shoulder. "If you recount the tale, I shall grant you a gift."
"Nonsense, what manner of gift?"
"Never mind that! Be quick and tell it."
"Very well, I yield," Ember said in defeat. "You are aware that Brother Gareth enlisted our aid to defeat the Tier I Father Darkness within the Land of the Springfield, are you not?"
The ten gathered around the table offered their nods.
"At the beginning, Gareth stood alone, but it was never intended that we should assist him. It merely happened that we shared that territory," Ember explained, scratching his head. "There lay the skeletal remains of some forgotten soul, possessing nothing save a sword and a shield. Those weapons appeared quite costly . . . " He glanced toward Gareth. "Hold on. Where are they now? Do you still hold them in your possession?"
"Sort of," the Heir of the Anchor replied tonelessly.
"Enough of your idle chatter, Ember!" Quintin remarked, appearing as though she might strike him. "Focus upon the chronicle."
"Why are you all so consumed by curiosity?" Gareth muttered under his breath.
They hushed him in unison, and so he fell silent, startled by their collective focus.
"Fine, fine. Listen then." Ember straightened his posture. "Gareth took up the pair of weapons, and they suited him perfectly. In all honesty," he raised both arms as if to symbolize great strength, "he demonstrated that such heavy armaments were a mere trifle for him to bear. Truly, a magnificent Gareth!" His exaggerated praise only served to deepen Gareth's scowl, for the group clearly took pleasure in vexing him. "As for us, we obtained our keys because they lay beside those same remains." He chuckled. "Gareth was the one who lacked a key, yet he claimed he possessed one. That was when he performed a most peculiar act." Ember paused, a smile playing on his lips.
"And what was that?" Quintin asked, speaking for the captivated group.
"He—" Ember burst into a fit of laughter. "That fool did something most strange. I can still envision him hacking away at the flowers while murmuring curses like, 'Forgive me, my Anchor, for I have sinned!' as if he were plagued by guilt for disturbing nature." He clutched his stomach as he laughed.
The others joined him in soft, amused laughter.
"Good heavens!"
"I should have wished to behold that sight!"
"You found it that amusing, then?"
"No, Jubilee and I were both struck with such confusion that our tongues failed us. We were utterly baffled," Ember replied, catching his breath. "My word, the effort to restrain my laughter then . . . though we knew little of the precepts regarding the Father Darkness or how to lure them out, Gareth was a most hilarious sight to behold."
"I find it quite endearing~" Hesperia added, seeking to provoke Gareth further.
"In any case, what was its appearance?" Quintin asked, her voice filled with curiosity. "The Father Darkness? We remained in the first land, after all," she added, glancing toward Hesperia.
"It was formed of flora — giant, incredibly agile, and swift. Yet I would say the Eidolon was far larger. Is that not right, Jubilee?" Ember asked, glancing at his companion.
Jubilee nodded in agreement. "Uh-huh. It was strange and truly terrifying to behold, but we believed Gareth could handle it alone. Until something occurred."
A heavy yet brief quietude fell over the table.
"The tremor?" one of the group inquired.
"Technically, yes." Ember paused. "Gareth sought to defeat it with haste and required our aid. The creature's regeneration was swift . . . Though Jubilee and I hail from different Heritages, the three of us formed a trio with distinct abilities. Together, we overcame the monster with greater speed. But in truth, it was Gareth's strength that prevailed."
"Yet the Eidolon was truly terrifying," a full-figured girl remarked among the Heirs, her form veiled by the same robe and mask. "Do you not remember, before the five of us were commanded to cross its path . . ." She paused, as if a sudden realization had struck her. "Wait — who was it that spoke of the Orphan? Did he truly accomplish such a feat . . . ?"
They exchanged glances from behind their masks, their silence heavy with a shared understanding.
"Yes," nearly all of them replied, their voices carry a note of grim assurance.
"For many of us were not destined to possess keys." Hesperia turned her gaze toward Gareth, who remained fixed upon the void. "But suddenly—"
The Heirs who had once been keyless could still vividly recall the events upon the central land. Not only those of the Sect of Hope, but the others within their respective sects as well. They remembered how the chests had been delivered by crows, and how they had somehow been granted passage through the Door.
They had witnessed it . . . how an Orphan had defeated an Eidolon, aided briefly by a Child of Sufferance and saved by an Heir of the Anchor, Gareth of Hope. Any soul would be bewildered by such happenstance for the memory was vivid, and they were far too baffled to utter a word out of spite.
However, they dared not even glance toward the Orphan's table.
"You are not meant to know this," Gareth said, his voice laden with a heavy darkness. "Who among you spilled this truth?" A flicker of anger began to kindle within him.
When they had gathered upon the central land as the keys were bestowed, there had been notes declaring that whatever had transpired, and whoever had stood as witness to such a feat, must remain silent. They were never to reveal the truth to those who had not been present. The warning had been unmistakably clear.
"Why did you break the oath?" Gareth's fury was beginning to seethe. "You fools."
Hesperia trembled as she offered her apology. "Gareth, spare us your wrath. It was not . . . it was not our desire that this be known, but the word did not originate from us . . . do you understand?" She leaned toward Gareth's ear and whispered, "It was someone from the Sect of Sufferance."
Gareth could only stare, struck dumb by the revelation.
And just before the situation could descend into further chaos, a crow perched itself before him.
Click, croak, caw!
Something did not feel right . . .