I look at the open book in my hands, counting the clans of Demoners. Some located at specific points of the map, some all over the diagram.
There are the Human clan, Org clan, Elf clan and Dwarf clan spread around the map. A date is printed on the side and a chart of respective populations located at the top.
"Is this the world map?" I ask, frowning as I register this information into my mind.
"Yes it is," Terrance answers. Pointing to a small red spot at the east of the graph, Terrance continues, "This is where we are."
We are like a speck of dust in the map, I comment in my mind.
As if at its will, the map begin to change, the date on the page increases in time. The dwarves' population bar begin to drop, their fields shrinking and gathering into a large patch.
The green spots makes its way to the empty territory as an indication of an org invasion.
The red gathers to the far east, forming multiple large bands. It is obvious that humans are aware of the org's aggressive movement.
As the dots shift around the portrayal, the yellow stays put at their position, completely oblivious of the changes.
My eyes dart around to watch the diverse adjustments of inks. Suddenly, everything happening before me seems familiar. I realise that I'm watching the start of the Cold War.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Terrance asks, taking note to control his voice to a low peaceful whisper. His eyes are glued to the book, widening and firmly keeping the keenness to spot every contraction. It is almost impossible to grasp the rapid movement and momentum of the blurring demodulation.
I nod in reply, trying hard not to break my concentration to watching the fleeting modifications.
The time continues to increase to an accelerated speed, every dots flickering around. It finally slow down to an extremely slow speed, changing little to nothing.
I take note of the day of events this map is showing currently. 31 December 3287, it reads.
That's today! I think to myself. The org have pushed far to the center of the globe and the dwarves retreat to the South. The clusters of humans form multiple large groups, ours being the largest. The elves have migrated further North, avoiding the invading orgs.
Lights flicker and dots appearing or disappearing. Most part of the paper is now covered in fluorescent green, the bright colour overtaking the others.
Overlapping, forcing and terrorising.
It sparks something in my mind and memories begin floods over my brain. "Here, sir," says a lady's voice in my head.
I can see a lady, dressed in a snow white dress. Her oval face and smile sparks a stoke of memory in my brain. A bright halo hovers above her head, smooth and black hair seems to be streaming down from her head.
I notice myself in a battle ground, filled pitiless, brutal slashing and swift, reckless spells flying around.
Orgs, elves, dwarves and humans drop like heavy stones, releasing a fog of dust to the air of yelling and battle cries. Catapults launching massive boulders to the battleground, shattering into small but fatal bits of rocks.
Dwarves firing muskets around, flashes of ignition blinking at random timing. Terribly muffled but awfully loud blasts could be heard. Orgs tumbling down at the impact of the leaded ammunitions, making their last roars in pain and hatred before being part of the forming carpet of corpses.
Elves pulls on their bow strings, firing desperately from tall towers as the ponderous sizes of rocks advances towards the archers. Despite the elves known for their outstanding archery skills, some of them took part in the melee combats at the foot of their wheeled fortress. Every arrow, stroke and time matters, they knew as they hack and shoot around. More lifeless orgs fell after a hefty amount of cuts and piercings.
Humans firing spells around, their luminous palms lighting up the the barbaric scene. Empty potion glasses dropping on the bodies below them after chucking down the multicoloured contents. Mana powered swords flash around, shields appearing around. The zing sound could be heard through the fight, melee or ranged combats.
Orgs dominating the field despite the fact that they're outnumbered. Their thick layer of armour did much to protect them from strikes to their flesh. Their spiked club with the extra force from the weight of the orgs was enough to crush the puny defenders standing in their way. Clubs weren't their only weapons. Javelins flew from the fat arms of the orgs. Their long clumsy arms make it difficult to hit a target. However, the war was so packed and brutal that most projectiles practically hit a body, dead or alive, enemies or allies.
I look down to myself, sighting a translucent and floating ghost. An org came rushing towards my direction, waving his club fiercely, blood trickling down his obese figure. I duck in fright, throwing my hand over my face and expecting a killing blow landing on me.
But it never came. The thick wooden weapon slice through the air and my body, landing on the earth below and sending a thin cloud of dirty to the air. The blow went inches away from an soldier elf, who shied away just in time and skipping forward to cut the org's vulnerable arm.
I'm a soul! I conclude with surprise. Below me lies a dead body, his facial features recognisable as if I've seen it moments before. His face is covered in ash and sweat, blooding flowing out from his gapping mouth. His arms are wrapped with cuts and dark bruises, lying motionlessly on the ground. A large bruise with blood seeping holes is marked on his side, an indication of a full blow from the spike clubs the orgs were holding.
I can feel myself getting up at its will. A mixed emotion of confusion and pain running through my body.
"You had a terrible and heroic fight with the orgs," the lady in white says, reaching out her hands to touch mine. "You have suffered painful injuries before the final blow from the albino org that killed you," she says, touching a wound from my side that came out of nowhere. "But, you're not done yet," she whispers darkly.
"What do you mean?" I ask, "I mean, I'm dead already." My soul pointed to the still body of the battlefield.
That's me? I ask in my mind, unsure to believe it or not, true or false. Are these memories or dreams? I quiz myself. My thoughts are in a mess, going in random directions, making my brain a living insanity.
"I'll revive you, but you'll start a different life," the angel says, her hands glowing white like a lighting bulb, tongues of light flickering around like a luminous flame. Images begin to fade as she shoot a ray of energy into me.
"Joel? Joel?" An external voice calls out. I blink my eyes multiple times, realising I'm back in the library. Terrance is nudging my shoulder.
"Thank god, for a moment you became stiff and had no reaction at all," Terrance says breathily, wiping off imaginary sweat of panic.
I smile at him. "I'm fine, I'm just..." I reply, looking at the book to find an excuse. "I'm just engrossed into this interesting map," I continue, using a finger to tap on the book as an indication. It has to be a dream, I convince myself. I shut the book with one hand and asks, "Where's Captain Lynch?" I begin glancing around to look for any sight of him.
Terrance widen his eyes in realisation, becoming aware of the reason why we are here. "Oh yeah, I forgot about that," he reasons.
"If he's not here, let's look somewhere else then," I suggests, approaching the door out.
Terrance tags along as we make our way down the stuffy staircase. In desperation for fresh air, we make a dramatic shove on the door, using both arms to push against it. The door swings open, revealing Alexander at the opposite side.
He's not alone, accompanied by some other friends of his and Jessica. Jessica shies away as I give her a mildly cold stare, not wanting to look back.
"Hey Alexander, why are you here?" Terrance asks, giving Alexander a brother pat on the back.
"Just wanting to check out the library," Alexander answers with a shrug. He turns to his friends and indicate them to go upstairs first. As the others leave and the door shuts, Alexander turns back to me.
"Hi Joel, Captain Lynch seems to be looking for you," he says, pointing back at the door,"He's in the library, I think."
"We've check," Terrance replies, "He is not in the library."
"That's a shame," Alexander says, "If he's not there, he has got to be somewhere else."
"Exactly the reason why we came down," I answer. From my shoulder, a yawn could be heard. Starubius makes a long stretch from his sleep. I have not realise Starubius has been sleeping till now, turning to my shoulder in surprise to see the dragon awake and energetic.
"Seems like it's awake now," Alexander states, leaning forward to see Starubius. "Hello little dragon," he greets while Starubius purrs in reply.
"Don't you have to go now?" Terrance asks, "Your friends are waiting for you."
"Yeah, I'll go now," Alexander agrees, waving his hands in farewell. Just before he begin his ascend, he looks back at us. "Good luck searching for Captain Lynch," he adds with a supportive smile.
-------------------------------------------------
All efforts and lucks are lost to the full day search. Captain Lynch is nowhere to be found. The bell had rung in the call of dinner time.
Terrance and I sits next to each other at the table, a weary look on our faces. We had searched every level of the castle and every spot of the fields, hunting for ideas and clues that other officers might give. But to no avail.
However, we discovered different places today. There's gyms, music rooms, science labs and more, located at various levels of the academy. Unfortunately, the barracks are not available for the first years and we were asked to leave before we even step close to the site.
The excuse of looking for Captain Lynch didn't work. We knew, of course, that forcing our way through won't do any good either, judging by the security's thick muscular figure.
In the end, the bell rang and we head to the canteen. Everyone have gathered around the table, sitting with the audible growling of stomachs filling the air.
This time, Captain Lynch isn't the one taking the attendance. Instead, Zack is holding the attendance list.
Why is Zack here? I question, wisely keeping the question to myself for the time being as Zack takes the attendance.
Mrs Krane gives a opening address to everyone, reminding everyone tomorrow is the first day of school, earning a chorus of groans before declaring dinner time.
Unlike other eager eaters, I waited for everyone to leave before walking towards Zack.
"Why is Captain Lynch not here?" I ask.
"He's selected," Zack replies, smiling at me as if I understand. The smile is immediately wiped off as he recognise the familiar blank look on my face.
"What?" I ask.
"He's part of the spy team sent to the orgs territory," Zack answers.
"He volunteered," Zack continues just before I ask the obvious question. "He's one of the best." "He's able to use camouflage well, even without spells. "He practises," Zack says as my widening eyes beg for reasons.
"You know, you've got to get some food," Zack pause, "Tomorrow is your first day of school." The reminder cuts me out of the question and answer session as a pang of hunger hits me.
"Ok, see you tomorrow," I say, waving Zack goodbye as I go to get some food.
After the scrumptious meal, I head back to my room. I yawn at the sight of the bed and left the lantern unlit, falling onto the cushiony mattress and doze off into slumberland.
Tomorrow's a big day.
Hi guys, sorry that I had taken so long to make this chapter. The holidays have came to me and I had been out of town, sightseeing and enjoying the variety of food here. I had little time to edit this chapter but here you go.
At the same time, I hope you had been enjoying your time with your relatives and friends as you wait patiently for this chapter.
And guess what? I had hit a hundred votes! I'm grateful and nonetheless thankful for your endless support as I write this book. I hope you had been enjoying this story.
As such, I need your opinions or feedback on this story. Tell me what could be improved, what you like about the story and your ideas towards it.
Cheerio! \('^')/