YUUKI - To Move Forward: Prelude 1

Log#70: Kingdoms

Guardians are humanity’s best hopes of surviving breaches, rare as they may be. While the ESF is operating outside the Barricade and Slayers are paving new routes between kingdoms, Guardians remain within the Barricade at all times. Assisted by the complete arsenal of our current military, Guardians choose to protect our cities using sniper rifles, pistols, rocket launchers, and any other basic weapon of choice. When they are not fighting off invading Shade, Guardians also work to put down the occasional revolt. Their main job, however, is to keep the peace. As history has repeatedly reminded humanity, no monarchy is without dissent, even one of election. Guardians work alongside our more common police force to ensure that the citizens of the Three Kingdoms are living within the law, and to snuff out any criminal activity or terrorist attempts. In summary, the Guardians provide constant protection within the Three Kingdoms, ensure that all outsiders remain outside, and extinguish any and all criminal activities, or any actions against the law.

-General Elvira Ramos

490 BPE

When I got back to school, I was welcomed by a tackle to the pavement by my two best buddies, and a giggling Alison helping me to my feet. This was to be the last week of Free Roam, a two week period of getting accustomed to the school. After that time, all of the freshmen were to be grouped into four large classes, and those would be the students we would work with for the remainder of our time at Arcos, provided nothing...unexpected happened to your class. In most cases, each cluster was formed of thirty students, grouped randomly by a computer in Arcos’s head office.

Arcos was huge. It was huge enough to shame anything else in Devarden, and since Devarden is known jokingly as the Kingdom of Factories, that was quite the feat. At first I was absolutely baffled by how much space they needed and why, but the confusion soon melted into amazement as we toured the campus, and learned about how the space between the four spires was actually divided up into sections to train different weapons and fighting styles.

Once the tour concluded, I finally understood why Arcos was famous for training the greatest Slayers on Chorus.

When it was time to be assigned to a class, nervousness slipped into my mind once more, and I hoped with all my might that Alison and the Twin Beaks would be in my group, improbable as it was. The way the selection process worked was actually quite simple: after a randomizer digitally grouped the students, we were herded into the First Spire, the southwestern spire (to the right of the entrance), where the first floor was divided into four opaque rooms and a lobby with access to each room. Students would be called into the rooms according to their assigned class until all of the students were grouped up evenly. I was the twentieth to be summoned, and as I headed nervously into the fourth chamber, I took a look around the room. Four other people waited for me: a boy with black hair like mine and a cool, collected face, a girl with pink glasses and bright blue hair tied into a short ponytail, the girl I had tripped over when first entering Arcos, and Sarah, the redhead I had bumped into back in Sentinal. The boy didn’t seem especially exciting, so I turned my attention to the girl of otherworldly colors.

Her glasses were very circular, unlike the more oval-shaped spectacles that most people wore. They weren’t entirely pink, just the rims and edges of the temples. The rest of the frame was a light blue, much like the color of “bubble gum”, or so I’ve heard people call that color. Her face looked fresh and young, full of surprises and curiosity. The girl’s hair was a light blue, tied into a short ponytail with a thin red ribbon. I assumed the hair was dyed, but it must have been masterfully done; the very unnatural hair color didn’t look even slightly inorganic or fake. The rest of the girl’s body was covered in an indescribable cluster of colors and emotions fused and layered over a dress of some sort. Her arms and hands were bare, but I couldn’t help but notice the oddly large holster hidden beneath the folds of the dress. Another odd feature of her attire was a purse hanging at her waist, opposite the hidden holster. The purse was fairly large, and could easily carry plenty of whatever it was there for, be it ammunition, explosives, or even emergency supplies. The straps were thick, and likely crafted specifically with claws and blades in mind. I couldn’t quite make out her shoes; she was just too jumpy.

Tearing my eyes away from the living rainbow, I took another look around the room. The boy was leaning against a corner of the room, the colorful girl hopped around excitedly, the girl with the navy-blue hair slumped in the opposite corner reading a book, and Sarah leaned against the back wall, glancing up quickly at the door every so often. Just like from the outside, the rooms were far from interesting; gray walls and a brown door had a tendency to bore the eye.

I often found myself glancing enviously at the girl with the book.

More students were called in, and the room steadily grew louder. Twenty-five more students piled into our chamber, including Miranda and the buff guy, Matthew. A couple of the others I wasn’t sure about; I’d seen them somewhere before, but I didn’t pay too much attention to each individual. As for the rest, we would have plenty of time to get to know each other in the next four years. It was our last classmate who forced my attention away from everything else.

The last person to enter our room, or any other, was Alison Chang.

Most of the people were chatting to each other excitedly, while the rest simply leaned against the wall, waiting for our instructor to enter the room. About ten minutes later, the brown door opened, and a tall, scrawny man with small-framed glasses entered the chamber, a clipboard cradled in his left armpit. His hair was light brown, and was cut short enough so that not even a hurricane could lift it from his scalp. His voice was soft, but so assertive that none dared mock it, not even Matthew.

Once he started speaking, it was clear that we’d gotten the teacher as opposed to the instructor.

“Hello, students. My name is Julian Darnay, but please refer to me as Mr. Darnay. I am your instructor for the next few years, and considering how very few students have ever transferred in that time, I advise you not only to get used to the way I teach, but also to know and understand your peers better as well. Now, I understand that these next few years may be difficult for many of you, some more than others. Remember, if there is ever something you need, be it educational or personal, feel free to utilize me as you see fit. I am your teacher, so it’s naturally my responsibility to simultaneously teach and ensure that you all are taught. Instruction is not a one-way experience, students. I expect and hope to learn just as much as I teach in these next four years, so please keep your minds and hearts open at all times so that we may all get something out of this little collaboration of generations.

“That being said, we shall begin with introductions. Name, age, weapon, a unique skill of said weapon, and favorite color should do just fine, and I shall go first. As mentioned previously, my name is Julian Darnay, age thirty-nine. My weapon is called Recon, as its primary function is a grappling hook. Also, I quite fancy the color silver. Nice and shiny. Alright, any volunteers to go first?”

He looked around the room expectantly, surveying his crowd of thirty. After about a minute, the rainbow girl stepped up, a bright smile on her face. Her voice was cheerful, and about as extravagant as her getup. “Hello everyone! My name is Isabelle Italia, age nineteen! My weapon is named Frosty, and when it fires, everything it touches becomes one with the name! I love the color nine.” She looked around excitedly, oblivious to the silence that followed. Normally, I would have assumed she was trying to be funny, but her honestly puzzled expression shot that idea down immediately. Next up was the girl with the book; she stepped up, closed the book with her bookmark, and spoke quietly but purposefully.

“I’m Nicole Minas, age eighteen. My weapon is Morpheus Necro Ivory...” she trailed off as her eyes scanned the room, before continuing (with a hint of shyness): “...not that it’d mean anything to you. Also, it doesn’t kill Shade. My color of preference is dark blue, like that of a tranquil ocean in a clear, voiceless night.” With that, she stepped back in place, and continued her book, a smile returning to her face. A few more students followed in suit, none of which I really paid any attention to, until Sarah stepped up.

“Sarah Arcos present; I’m nineteen. My weapon is Blazing Glory, a weapon that can change between defense and offense at will. The color I am most admiring of is red... but not too bright red. Good day.” It seemed like her tone was still of a superior’s, an authoritative and confident speech that could make even an instructor feel inferior. That is, if the instructor wasn’t Darnay. A few more people, a few more introductions. I almost dozed off while standing in line once, but Alison nudged my shoulder and I was wide awake; it was just in time, too, as the Mr. Darnay called my name.

“H-Hello, my name is, uh, Kazuki Yuuki, and I’m eighteen years old. My black sword is called Twilight’s Fury, and let’s just say it has a split personality. My favorite color is, well, black, as everyone can probably tell,” I gestured nervously at my getup, and was rewarded with some chuckles by many of my classmates. I stepped back with a quick “thank you” and exhaled deeply, relieved that it was finally over. The last person to introduce themselves, who was also immediately after me, was Alison. She stepped up, smoothed the seamless golden river down her back, and spoke loud and clear.

“Good evening, everyone. My name is Alison Chang, and I am nineteen years old. Shining Tempest is my partner and trusty baton, but it doesn’t have anything too unique or noteworthy, I’m afraid. Also my favorite color is crystal blue. Thank you.”

Crystal blue, huh? Just like your eyes.

She stepped back, and the instructor spoke up again, “ah-hem, now that we are finished with that, everyone, it is time to disperse. Tomorrow at nine, no later, in the fourth spire, or you are marked late. And trust me, you do not want to be marked late, and that is a promise. Remember, tardiness is a step behind truancy, and truancy breeds ignorance and weakness. Traits which, naturally, result in imminent and painful death by our enemies. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a day-old cheesecake.” He spoke firmly, with haste, and was out of the door in seconds.

I knew only one truth, that I was hopelessly lost.

The class had been assigned to explore Windward Forest, an accursed place where wind always seemed to blow in one’s face, in search of some stones that the instructor had informed us were extremely rare and valuable. Apparently they were hidden somewhere in this forest, but we were uninformed whether they would be within a cave or atop a canopy. Mr. Darnay did mention that it was not somewhere invisible to the naked eye, ruling out the necessity of shovels or axes. Of course, he also talked about the indigenous species of the forest, as well as annual casualties, the annual approximate number of Shade encounters, how the weather could affect our hunt, what kinds of snacks were the most valuable for such a hunt, and so on. I had rushed into the large gathering of trees as soon as I heard those instructions, and digested their meaning as I ran. What I hadn’t counted on, however, was the sheer amount of Shade in the area: multiple times I had been forced to abandon battles and avoid encounters, despite my weapon and I trembling with excitement. Every willow looked the same, and it was getting dark, so I finally had to admit exactly how lost I was. Mr. Darnay had mentioned how the assignment could take up to three days, but it took the actual darkening of the sky for me to digest that bit.

I wasn’t entirely helpless to the night, thankfully, as I had brought a backpack filled with a sleeping bag, snacks, and flashlights in case an event as such approached me. A bag full of precautions, my dad called it. He might as well have drilled it into my mind, considering the countless times he left me stranded in the Forest of the Crimson Crest overnight when I was fourteen or so. It was rough, but served its purpose painfully well, as I never left the house after those “trips” without a flashlight, snacks, and a phone that I only used to make emergency calls. My outfit already included a black jacket, so the cold was never a problem. All I needed was sleep.

The full moon was peeking out over the horizon, and I had no better idea of where I was than I had three hours ago, so I made the executive and obvious decision to set up camp to wait out the night. Despite my insomnia, sleeping was an option, but there was always the risk of a Silverwolf or Night Stalker creeping up on me, a chance I was far from willing to take in some attempt for a few hours of sleep. I was determined to remain awake and alert all night, just to be on the safe side.

And, of course, this turned out to be the one night where my insomnia held up the white flag.

Somehow, I slept uninterrupted for an easy twelve hours that night. The next morning, I rolled up my mat, fed on some snacks, and packed it all up. The ground sloped downward slightly, growing steeper steadily.

Please let me be on the right track.

Speeding up my pace, I weaved through the willows for another two hours, marveling at the natural beauty that enveloped me, until I stopped at a clearing of some sort. I decided to take a water and snack break, and immediately proceeded to munch on some chips. As soon as I had swallowed my last chip, I heard a snap in the trees to my left. Alert, I carefully laid my pack down to the soft dirt.

I rose to my feet, drawing Twilight’s Fury from its sheath. It seemed that the creature had halted its approach, and was waiting intently for my reaction. I called out into the trees in case was actually one of my classmates. The branches rustled, and I pointed my sword outward, ready for an encounter.

Instead of a drooling Shade leaping out at me with ravenous hunger, however, the boy with hair as black as mine stepped out into the clearing, the same one I had seen in the chamber back in the First Spire.

He was wearing a dark purple leather jacket, a fashionable but seemingly non-protective suit. I could only assume protection lied just beneath. His hair was the same color and length as mine, but was smoothed back on his head, as opposed to my lazy bedhead. He donned black jeans like mine and his boots were shiny but thick. He rested his hands in his jacket pockets, and casually strolled out into the clearing, clearly unfazed by my distrust and my blade still extended towards him. His attitude was cool and amused, yet reserved, and he was not afraid to speak exactly his mind. Evidently, that always included some form of sarcasm.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the big bad Kazuki!” He widened his eyes in mock terror. “Oh, dear, whatever shall I do when that terrible blade is pointed my direction?” His expression melted back into his cool, amused look that ticked me off, but I nevertheless lowered my blade.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. What are you doing over here? I can tell you’re travelling alone, but you’re still the first person I’ve seen since Darnay sent us out here. Why is that? Do you know?” I didn’t intend to sound too suspicious, but I honestly was a bit anxious around him. Perhaps it was because of his demeanor, outfit, and speech pattern all screaming “bad guy alert!”

It was because of my silent adrenaline that I dared to be so bold in my speech.

“Oh, I see. Quite the apprehensive little fellow, aren’t ya? Well, I will admit this much: this forest must be huge, huh, if neither of us have seen another human until now,” he ended it with a smirk that made my skin crawl. “Okay, I’ll be straight with you: I have been following your trail for a while, but not in any sort of stalker-ish way, believe me, man. I’m just curious, is all, in you.”

The grip on my sword tightened.

He appeared to take note of my reaction, and nodded in approval. “Well, well. I like your instinct when around one such as myself. Very cautious, very safe. That just might save you during an encounter, you know.” By then, he was pacing around the field, and my anxiety was only building by his banter.

“Okay, so who are you exactly? You were called into our class before I was, so I know you’re a student at Arcos, but who are you? I’m sorry if I didn’t pay attention to your name during our introductions.”

This time he appeared genuinely amused by my choice of words, and he responded, “alright, man, I’ll fill you in. The name’s Francis. Francis Glorieux of Ismira, at your service.” He took a slight bow, and continued. “Hey, do you remember that announcement a few days ago from Queen Arya, and how an interruption from RdF made the headline of every little newspaper?”

I thought about this for a moment, reflecting on that day. Renlei de Fanu was a cultist group supposedly operating somewhere in the outskirts of Viscor, and most civilians of the Four Kingdoms simply referred to them as RdF. Their leader, Avenir, was an old French man who drew the very line between gentlemen and barbarian. He was clearly delusional on some level, since he lead the largest group of terrorists against humanity’s largest culmination of noble and determined humans, but it was uncertain whether he was purely misguided or simply insane. He spoke as if it were all some noble endeavor, and that it would give mankind true freedom, but it was all propaganda. Any words spoken from the head of a cultist group could not simply be accepted, let alone trusted, so to me all Avenir was doing was wasting time and oxygen.

Impatient for my response, he continued, “Anyway, what did you think of his speech? You know, not a lot of people appreciate him, and all the work he must go through to accomplish such a feat.” He grinned at the sight of my raised eyebrow. “Oh, you are one of those, huh? Well, I wonder; do you believe in what he says, even in the slightest?” Before I could respond, he shrugged disappointedly. “That’s too bad, really. You actually did seem like an understanding guy, someone who wouldn’t blindly follow those in power. How disappointing. Ah, was that a flinch? Did you just flinch? Hmm, maybe you still can change...”

By now, the suspicions arising in my chest were swelling like a zeppelin, and I was all but certain of who this “Francis” truly was. My grip on Twilight’s Fury was so tight, I could feel my knuckles begin to numb, so I took a deep breath and softened my hold slightly. I shifted position, readying myself in case things got out of hand.

The motion probably only made things even worse.

“Oh, dear. Did I touch a nerve? Or better yet, was I a bit too open? Dear me, I apologize.” He lowered his lower lip, an apologetic expression tainting his face. “Either I wasn’t as conservative as I had planned, or you, my friend, are almost half as perceptive as myself. So, what do you think? I could easily get your response by your body language, but I feel it is much, much more revealing and fun if you spoke it with your own voice.”

I gritted my teeth, and responded hesitantly, “I think that they are all insane. Facing against the might of humanity for what they call ‘freedom’ is so obviously a lie, just some means to recruit people. People such as yourself, I can only assume.”

“Oh, going there, are we? How brave of the shy, little boy.” He grinned, and finally slipped his hands out of his jacket pocket, resting them on a long sheath I had just now noticed. Judging from the length of the part that jutted out in front of him, I could only imagine how long and terrific the length of the blade must be. I didn’t needed to guess, however, as within moments he whipped out the blade.

Upon seeing the weapon in its full glory, I froze in terror, amazement, and admiration.

The blade itself was an easy eighty centimeters, probably greater. Clearly based off of a katana, the blade was extremely thin, vibrating as it made contact with the air around it. It was a blood-red tint, easily the most awesome yet terrifying aspect of the weapon, and its edge appeared sharp enough to slice through steel effortlessly. The hilt was a deep black, crafted from some sort of powerful metal and what appeared to be shark skin, so its wielder could maintain a steady and firm grip on it while slicing away at anything in its path. The pommel was about the size of a baby’s fist, and, though my line of sight was disrupted by his hands, appeared to cradle some sort of sapphire inside it. When the field became deathly silent, I could make out a steady humming from the blade, and immediately knew it had some form of advanced enchantments on it, whether it be shadow, wind, or whatnot. I was sure to find out before long.

One question did pop into my mind after observing its terrible length, though.

How did he unsheath it so quickly? It should be too long to pull it out like that...

He grinned at my reaction to the beautiful tool of murder, and released his right hand from the hilt, gently stroking the flat side of the weapon as he spoke proudly. “Isn’t she a marvel? Such a beauty, such an effective weapon to bring swift and certain doom to those who cross its path. You appear to be in a position to fight, and I must admit, it is not a wise place to be when Hades starts to hum. Tsk, tsk.” He winked at me, and concluded his stroking, once again placing his right hand above his left. That meant he was probably right-handed.

I assumed my battle position: a one-handed grip in front of me with my legs spread out slightly. I smiled to myself, slightly, and spoke louder, confident yet nervous now in what I was about to accuse him of. If I was wrong, it would be an insult of which few could offend greater, but I was more than confident at this point.

“You are one of them, aren’t you? You’re part of RdF. But why? You seem so friendly, so cool, and yet you’re working with the enemy. It seems a bit off, if you ask me.” With that, he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, and I swore I felt a moment of hesitation before his response.

“I’d love to explain it all to you, truly I would, but let’s not kid ourselves, alright? We’re both just little humans with different ideals, and we both know how collisions like our ends up. Neither of us will change, neither of us will yield, so what’s the point? Besides, I can tell that you are itching for a fight as much as I am, and actions speak louder than words, do they not? En Garde, my friend.” And he held his demonic sword directly in front of him, towards my own.

Just like that, in that one moment where the world hushed to hear the grass sway around two warriors, I became involved in a journey that would take years, dreams, and the lives and innocence of millions.