"Is the tomb…really here?"
"It has to be."
Baraquiel replied decisively.
"An injured stray can't run far. The tomb will be here."
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|DxD|- Chapter 39- Shattered Reality
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The world has been embroiled in war since time immemorial. Be it the first or second era, there has never true peace—only a calm between the previous war and the next. It was a roulette. Unlucky nations and factions would be steeped in conflict. Be it mundane or supernatural, a single spark was enough to boil entire generations in a baptism of blood.
The Scramble was considered the biggest war in history, a war where pantheons and factions rushed for a world-changing artifact. The casualties were high, the depravity even higher. The tears shed could flood a desert.
Innocents died, families perished, children never grew, and burial was a privilege. A complete corpse was a luxury. Most became rot or ashes, lost under stacks of statistics and collateral damage, never to be honoured with a name—only a numeral.
Peace came too late to revive withered smiles. The world was twisted by half a century of bloodshed. Children were born under the scent of iron, and steel gazes of conscription officers with recycled names in hand.
Life never fully recovered. Tears never stopped; only replaced by sighs of reminiscence. Time never healed wounds. They only scabbed over. It was easy to continue life if the wound was not touched, to commune a facade of recovery. Only when the scab was ripped open would the festered wound finally reveal the truth; the truth…that it never healed.
"Mother…?"
Igor stood in a small clearing. Each step he took was filled with trepidation. The whole area was littered with fallen leaves. Beneath the shade of leaves, there was no unique scent or anomaly for him to justify being here.
But something…something drew him to this area. There was a calling to his heart, a faint buzzing to his senses. He couldn't sense or smell anything odd. So…what was it?
A tingling came beneath his sandals when he looked at a patch of dirt. It was electrifying and had him rooted to the spot.
A memory surfaced, one from many, many years ago.
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A mother hugged her baby boy. Inside the tomb, the sand ceiling was replaced by an illusion of bright blue skies.
'Some day, this will all be real, Mathias. Mommy will make sure you see the sun. Some day, you will. No matter what.'
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Igor did not know when he started digging. His hands scooped chunk after chunk of dirt until moist soil was revealed. Rubble clung to sweat-soaked palms. His heart thrummed in his chest without pause and his throat closed around a sob.
His mother was in there. He knew it. He absolutely knew it! His fingers stabbed into the earth. Each scoop showered sand into the air. Impatience clawed at him. Each passing minute was a stab on his chest. A heap of sand and wriggling worms had formed a mound around him. No forest critter dared circle him, for around him, blazed a golden aura.
Igor so badly wanted to blast open the ground. He'd dug up to his stomach and there was still no trace. But he was afraid he would harm his mother. Maybe she was alive. Their clan's magic was supposed to be amazing, right? Maybe she was just sleeping and waiting for her son to come for her.
Igor dug down and in the next moments, his hands crushed through a solid dome of hardened soil. He immediately widened the hole and saw a spacious room. But most importantly, he caught the scent of a human, not ash.
"Mother!"
He widened the hole and dove headfirst. He landed on hardened ground. This dome room was nothing more than a hollow enclave. It was dark, but his aura lit up the walls. On a raised earthen bed, a woman lay on a straw mat. She was beautiful long locks of hair like the rays of the sun. A pristine white dress covered her. Her hands lay clasped atop her stomach. She looked so calm with a gentle smile, as if she would wake up at any moment.
"I'm here! Mother!"
Igor rushed forward, almost stumbling over his feet. He moved too fast and knocked himself against the dome wall. It cracked, but he was too frantic to notice. He crouched down and cradled his mother's head. Her face was rosy, something the dead didn't have. His senses weren't lying to him. She was alive. Alive!
"Mother! I'm here now, mother! You can wake up now."
He shook her head, her body, and her arms. She wasn't moving. Why wasn't she moving?
"Stop playing games, mom. I know you can hear me!"
He didn't know when the tears spilled. He could feel her body and hold her in his arms. So why wasn't she waking up? Is it because he wasn't strong enough?
"Wake up, mom! I can hear you breathing, you know?"
This wasn't funny anymore. She couldn't lie to his senses!
Mom! MOM!!!! Wake up! Please wake up!"
Something tried to grab him. He pushed it away. It came again. This time, he turned around to punch it, only to be smothered by the scent of leather and fabric softener. His arms were restrained to his sides and he violently struggled.
"Let me go! Let me go!!!"
He couldn't see who they were through his tears. His mind was a mess and his energy ran amok…until it didn't. The light in his eyes faded, and in the encroaching darkness, he tried to cling on to that hope, to believe this wasn't reality being cruel. He just found his mother. She was alive. She had to be.
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|DxD|
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Something passed through the forest. It couldn't be seen nor be heard. The only proof something passed…was a single, shallow, shoeprint.
*Su!*
Shuri whooshed through the forest like an unseen breeze. Her strides were long and efficient. Each step left less of a trace than a walking person.
The world slowed for Shuri. Her running was not without purpose. Moments ago, her husband turned grave. He looked at where Igor was and only said one sentence.
'He's collapsing.'
He vanished in that moment and she took off after him. She could not match her husband in speed, but she was fast in her own right. She reached the tomb in under a minute. She jumped into the deep hole and landed inside a small dome.
She first saw a corpse, a dried husk of a pale woman who'd turned to skin and bones. Her skin sagged like a wet blanket, her hair grey and tangled from neglect. Her hollowed cheeks still held a faint smile, perhaps one that persisted through decades.
Shuri gasped, almost falling to her knees. Her hands covered her face, leaving exposed amber eyes trembling in shock. She now knew why Igor's energy went berserk. After forty years, there should be a pile of ash.
"B-Baraquiel."
She frantically looked to her husband. Her hands were shaking at the terrible mistake they made. Her eyes were filling with panicked tears.
"I miscalculated."
Baraquiel responded solemnly. He carried an unconscious Igor in his arms. Logically, with the preservation magic gone, this woman should've faded.
"I did not expect Igor to find her corpse."
He looked at the blonde. His cheeks trailed with wetness. Baraquiel wanted to slap himself. He miscalculated with Diehauser. Now he miscalculated with Igor's mother.
"Sigh…"
One sigh, and a mountain lodged itself on his shoulders. This…is beyond a mess. This is negligence.
"Shuri. Please help me with this."
This was a turning point that would affect Igor for the rest of his life. As much as he outwardly claimed the boy was a weapon, he did not wish to see him fueled by revenge. This defining moment was a precipice that could do just that. A third mistake could not be made.
"I'll try."
The click of a step echoed. Shuri stretched out her arms, her saddened eyes taking in Igor's form.
"Give him to me."
AN: Poor Igor. Seeing his mother must've given him hope. A damn shame she's actually dead. It would've been nice if it was some sort of suspended animation.
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Chapter 39
END