Honor and Glory | ATEEZ

046

When I made it back to the entrance of the cave, I found that the tempesta was already waiting for me, shifting restlessly back and forth.

Its striking purple eyes flashed with white lights as they flickered back and forth between me and the darkness beyond, asking a silent question that I refused to answer.

I glared at it, feeling my red eyes burning brightly as I channeled all my hate at the foul creature.

As if sensing my mood, it moved back a little, though I didn't sense any kind of remorse in its shifting features.

The storm spirit began moving, not uttering as much as a single word to me as it floated toward the forest in the distance, Agora hiding somewhere behind the tall dark trees.

And so, I followed, trudging silently through the billowing fields, watching with distaste as the tall grass and flowers in between the stalks of wheat whipped wildly back and forth as the tempesta passed them.

Leaving behind San.

Leaving behind the others as I walked towards what was probably certain death despite Daios' promises.

The day was nearing its end, the sun hanging much lower in the sky than it had done when we arrived by The Source of Iseda.

It was starting to get dark, and my surroundings quickly began to blur together into masses of darkness as the shadows grew taller and taller with every last breath of the crescent sun.

I glanced back over my shoulder.

One last look, I told myself, though I knew too well that it was a lie.

I couldn't see the cave anymore.

I couldn't see San anymore.

But I knew that he was still there somewhere, hidden somewhere deep in the shadows where I hoped he would be safe until I was long gone.

He was still here along with the others, I thought, feeling my heart ache at the thought. Right here with me.

Finally, darkness fell along with the beautiful blanket of glinting stars that was thrown across the vast sky every time night decided to visit the Kingdom of Avalon.

I kept walking, numbly, for what felt like hours, looking down at my feet and focusing on the trail below me.

It was only as a loud whoosh cut through the silent night air that I looked back up, fear washing over me as I realized that the tempesta was gone.

Something was wrong, I thought, whipping my head around in a desperate attempt to see where the storm spirit had gone, but there was no sign of the tempesta anywhere.

And then everything went dark.

I woke up with a gasp, sitting straight up in the marvelous bed, feeling the soft mattress bounce slightly at the movement.

The room was big, filled to the brim with ornate decorations on the walls, gold-framed pictures, and beautiful oil paintings, lavish furniture, and plush blankets on the floor.

I turned my head to one of the many big windows, watching as the delicate curtains fluttered in the wind.

It was morning.

7 days had passed. A week.

Today was the deadline.

I crawled backwards, stopping when my back hit the sturdy wooden frame of the headboard, furrowing my brows at the window.

The curtains were fluttering a lot, I realized, almost too much.

Almost as if a storm was raging just outside, somehow silent but definitely still strong.