Latentnotes

Chapter 3

Lance is staring at a huge pile of papers and wrappers stacked on a carrier wagon. It would've been fun watching and reading each and every single one of them again since it has been almost a decade or so, but there is no need to. Some glances through here and there was enough. They have served their purpose and it's time they're purged and given new ones. The only way to keep being is forward. He won't let their weight drag him down any further.

The waste collector gives him a few cents but Lance declines and told him to keep it, thanking him instead for his service. The papers wouldn't be wasted because of him.

He chose not to go to Serkam's funeral being held at the cremation grounds right now, despite being not being far from where he is. 'Too much has been wasted by me. I've done enough,' he thinks.

Lance has disposed of all the stuff he didn't need at his home. He gives his goodbyes to his dear ones. His parents are against his profession, gravely concerned by what would become but they fail to change his mind. He's too adamant with this though. Better be a disappointment than be dead on the inside. Conscript or not, the tide of battle consuming lives in its wake would always reach him sooner or later. He gives his twin younger sister and brother a warm smile. They both asks him to promise his return before the festival but he doesn't give it to them. "I'll try." Any promise of what he wasn't sure of; he won't give anymore.

Lance leaves his home without looking back much, because he knows they're holding back their tears so hard. He makes his way through the grassy country lane from where, at a far distance, he can see the smoke of Serkam's funeral pyre rising up at the other side of the trees.

Taking a solar powered cab and zooming in the air through pathways passing through rice fields, ponds and huts, he arrives at the large, makeshift arena at a nearby town where this decades' championship tournament is taking place. Hundreds of people from across the district are here to spectate the battles. The poor and rich are all catered to the same seats. He notices the village chief and various elderlies look at him and then turn back minding their own company. There's no reason for them to bother talking to him anymore.

The battles ensue. Thaumaturges, martial artists and warriors from across the entire district of Karbi Anglong who are Karbi by blood contest their prowess. Lance watches them without taking a seat. They're good. At least they've significantly improved. But he didn't find any of them impressive enough, except one.

Paul takes the arena by storm. All spectators are glued to his charm and skills. The girls are thirsty for him. Anyway, Lance is happy for the man, worthy of fame and respect. He deserves it. Paul smashes down his large opponents with his powerful arms infused with magic, and with a wonderful masculine personality he gave the aura of being capable of protecting the people as their champion.

Judging by his analysis of what Paul has revealed, Lance knows he'd win in a one-on-one fight with him. But it's no use to the world if he only has the power but is not be able to show it to the masses. To them, it's as good as non-existent.

It's the semi-finals now. The other three contestants other than Paul seems to be much stronger than him. Most hopes for Paul to win but majority of them has bet on any of the other three. He might've chosen to watch his friend's glorious moment, but he feels no need to. Moreover, he has his own matters to attend to. Lance has observed enough to tell the conclusion. He closes his eyes for a while and leaves the sight with a silent grace that nobody cares to notice. Paul beats down his opponent. With a slight smirk on a side of his lips, Lance walks on, then lost, nowhere to be found amongst the wild crowd cheering their lungs out!

+-+^-^>-<+-+^-^>-<

Lance has reached the outskirts of the town, walking by a newly made road covered in dust and grasses on both sides. Its only for pedestrians anyway. Large trees forming a canopy overhead, as far as the road seems to go, swayed by the gentle cool breeze. The day is warm. The loud, booming sounds from the arena could be heard from here.

One could tell. It is the finals.

By the roadside there are people staying at their tiny shops and working. They can't effort to go watch the battles or stream it. Or they just aren't interested anymore. Such coziness in the open space here.

Lance walks on. There she is. He sees a Caucasian girl standing on the side of the road where supposedly is a considered bus stand without any shelter. It's a no brainer to identify her as this is a land of Mongoloids.

She has come all the way here, not alone, with a large female quadruped canine with white fur and large-lush-green leaves stemming from its forehead and rear, Canis Musa Lapiculus. It could electrocute humans to crisp in an instant.

(Jules ending. All the way here, not alone. Repeat)

Upon noticing him, the duo makes their way towards Lance.

"There are wolves out there..." Lance says.

"...reaching for the stars," the girl responds.

"We are children..." he continues.

"...makers of our own destiny." She completes the phrase.

"Lance Maelstrom, Tactical Conscript," he introduces himself with a smile as he shakes hand with her. Her hand is trembling a bit.

"Galsey Armelis, alchemy student," she smiles back.

The canine gleefully woofed.

"And she's Jules," Galsey adds. The sweet familiar gleefully stares at him. Lance smiles at Jules.

Galsey adjusts her backpack. He knows that she's exhausted from the travel, but rest has to wait. "We have to go now," he tells her. "Better rest on the train."

Lance asks Galsey, staring firmly at her eyes, "how far would you go in order to find 'her'?"

She doesn't flinch. "As far as every bit of strength in my being could take me."

"Very well." Lance turns towards a smaller road ahead, "more must be done," and walks towards it without further ado.

"Right," the girl responds in a low voice. It is more like saying it to herself. She makes sure everything is okay and follows on his way with Jules by her side.

Fireworks bursts aloud and horns trumpets a mile away at the arena. Galsey and Jules takes a look behind. Cheers of victory echoes throughout the whole town. Then the booming mic announces the victor, "We have our champion!! Behold! NOKBE HEMPHU, VALOR INCAARRRNAAATE!!"

The duo turns back to catch up with Lance. He keeps on walking ahead, never taking a glance back, for much awaits him. Paul is fit to be a leader, not a champion.

"So where has the sire call us?" Galsey asks as they see a hovering train approaching.

"Acharyaji, sent me a letter that someone will pick us up at Kohare town. I have a guess who it could be."

"Acquaintance?"

"More than that." Lance smirks. "One of many wholesome peers and pesky rivals."