The Requiem of A Tortured Soul

The night was growing in stillness, the dim darkness looming all around us and the torch wrapped around my palm was the only thing that illuminated each other's presences. The name came like a crack of thunder rolling out from his tongue, his voice deep but tender as he spoke his name. The passing seconds accompanied the sudden chill that went along my spine at his amused stares, blinking as a dust of wind blew right excusing itself between our silence.

"Salem?" I questioned, the name ringing familiarity from the back of my mind as though I had heard it once before.

There was something about this man that baffles me. Is it his stance? His demeanor? Or the fact that I couldn't sense any sort of energy from him? He has emotions, but my body is reacting oppositely against it that unlike other emotions, the lurking danger is preventing me from absorbing it, as though he has a protective layer of barrier wrapped around his emotions that I couldn't absorb.

The man seems to be in his late twenties, tall and muscular. Dark eyes, black enough that I couldn't even see his pupils. A van dyke beard with braided twintails just below his chin, long, black hair tied messily behind his head. He wore the usual leathered gears, his shoulder draped with animal fur extending to a short, clothed coat down his back. The sword sheathed on his left hasn't escaped my notice as well.

"That's right, Sa-lem." He pronounced, moving his mouth slowly. "This fair maiden should be...?"

"What are you do---"

"No, no." He lifted his index finger, stopping my words as he shook his head. "Let me guess. Hmm Dora?"

I frowned. "Do I look like a clueless adventurer to you?

"Hmm no, and definitely not the long lost princess with a long golden hair or the maid who claimed she knew what love is at first dance either."

"You sure do know your fairy tales."

"I practically wrote them!" He exaggerated, laughing. "But in all seriousness," he suddenly slid his foot over mine, making me kneel as he crouched in front of me. "We're making too much noise."

He winked, putting his finger on his lips as he used his other hand to kill the fire off the torch by wrapping his big palm around the tip. He didn't even flinch at the heat, letting two patrolling orcs to go past while we hid behind a huge wooden crate. It was strange how they didn't even notice us despite orcs being attracted to our kind. The man didn't let me think too deeply though, standing up with his gaze fixated on front.

"Orcs with their games." He smirked, finally looking at me. He offered his hand, tilting his head. "Want a pull, kid?"

Ignoring his taunt, I pulled myself up, my eyes slowly adjusting to the surrounding darkness. He grabbed something out of the pouch attached on the right side of his belt- a cigarette, putting it between his lips as he eventually lit it up with a lighter. Blowing the smoke, he snapped his fingers as though the action was supposed to do something.

"Aha!" He shot me an enlightened gaze. "You're Mulan!"

I sighed, finally letting myself smile. "You're horrible at guessing names."

"Well, who knows you might just be that female warrior from the East."

"I'm..." I hesitated, thinking of my 'supposed' name.

"Look on the bright side here in Orc Country," he placed his hand on my shoulder, and it was a bit heavy. "Nobody would care who you are even if you give away the name, kid. Or do you prefer me calling you kid?"

"I'm not a child and certainly what you call me won't even matter. It's not that we'll see each other again." I took his hand off, glaring at him.

"How feisty, indeed!" He chuckled. "But I wouldn't make assumptions like that. Humans should stick together!"

"Are you?"

He grinned, shrugging. "Obviously not an orc, as you can see."

"You do know I'm suspicious of you, don't you?"

"It's written all over your face." He answered, twisting the cigar between his fingers. "But I don't think questioning me would get you anywhere. I'm just a passerby trying to get out of those Orcs' sights."

"By hiding in their camp?"

"The proper way to answer that is by hiding through their Hunt. They're probably too busy fending off enemies to worry about another one like me."

"How did you even get here? Orc Country is a different realm, nor anyone else knowing it even exists."

He tilted his head again, his brows furrowing as he exhaled another smoke. "Yet you're here as well, are you not? Surely, we both have our own reasons for being here. You aren't going to take that reason from me, or would you? What makes you so suspicious of me? We're both here trying to survive, even I could tell that much."

I stepped back, crossing my arms. "Makes sense."

Why was I even curious in the first place? But this man...he is strange. I don't know what to make of this uncomfortable feeling laying low inside me, nor would I even want to keep my eyes off of him. Because it feels like he would do something if I were to look away and I couldn't trust him nor his words. Why in the world am I even that curious--I flinched, feeling a small gust of energy passing by around us, making my skin crawl as well as my hair to flutter behind.

I turned my head around, noticing the seams the ran along the ground. They were small and made out of stones buried on the surface of the soil. The gap between the spaces were about an inch, and these seams were glowing in a bright blue light. For a moment, I worried patrolling orcs might notice. But just like how they suddenly lit up, they died down eventually. Whatever it was, it didn't let minutes went that the seams began to glow, in blinking lights of green this time.

They began to split in halves, the lines tracing the seams were bending, some were extending and it took me another second to realize they were trying to form something. I crouched lower, my other knee touching the ground as my hands pushed the pebbles away from the center. Until I stopped, momentarily in daze as my fingers gently touched the strange language etched on the surface of a small bronze platform.

"I knew it." I mumbled, my eyes widening.

Numbers began to appear, glowing in white this time, as well as unfamiliar characters mixing along them. These sequences are called law formation, otherwise called as the formation of law. Another group of numbers and letters spawned on another side, then another, until it became a whole magic circle, the result the laws formed.

A hand touched my shoulder, casting me aside. Salem crouched beside me, his face dissolved of his earlier playfulness. He put his hand to the center, and I was yet again struck in surprise when sequences crawled from his wrist, passing through his hand, and down the ground. Carried along the process was the strange energy I felt from him. Never before have I actually encountered such incredibly refined and accurate energy source. I back away a little, sensing him about to do something.

"To the cryptids hidden beneath these myriads, heed the command of your God and unlock the entrance to the Sanctum." Salem chanted, a grunt of impatience heard from his voice. But energy only kept escaping him, nothing was happening. He gritted his teeth. "To the cryptids hidden beneath these myriads, heed the command of your God and grant me entrance to the Sanctum!"

He repeated again and again. It came to the point where he head basically said the chant over five times and nothing was happening. Whatever that circle is, it keeps on sucking his energy dry yet it doesn't seem to concern him as he repeated again for the seventh time. Only that he finally gave up, taking his hand off the bronze platform. Despite the the black, thick cloth that wrapped around his hands, I could see his palm burning from that action.

"Hmm. This is unpleasant. Truly unpleasantly unfortunate." He muttered, the sequence of strange numbers and letters disappearing from his wrist.

"What in the world was that?" I questioned.

"Oh? You're still here?" He waved his hand at me. "Go on along your way now, kid. This has nothing to do with you."

He was right. Whatever he's scheming, it has nothing to do with me and yet...and yet the relic Sigillum inside is calling out. Deep in thoughts, I watch him repeat the same chant over and over, sweat falling down his forehead now as the lights began to grow weaker. Each time he did so, Sigillum felt like being torn apart, the demons craving escape like they were on fire, begging to be quenched, begging to please someone. If my resolve was weak, these monsters and demons alike would have had already broken out since earlier.

"Orcs are coming." I alarmed, sensing about three orcs patrolling near. They must have had noticed the glowing lights even at this secluded part of the camp.

"Well," he breathed, clenching his other fist as channelled more energy. "If you're that curious about what's happening, might as well fend them off."

I turned around without saying anything,  seeing three orcs running towards us. Each were carrying a weapon, big enough to smash my body in a few hit. The torch one was holding made it easy for me to track their movements as the three of them leaped simultaneously above me. I lifted my hand, but then stopped when I remembered I can't use my energy despite being able to sense them. Preventing the urge to groan, I moved out of the way just before their warhammers landed on the ground.

I knew I messed up when one immediately dashed forward to where Salem was crouching. May it whether be speed or strength, the reason why most people can move so fast and have superhuman strength is because of their energy. Without even having the ability to wield it is like being reverted into a normal human who can't even manipulate spiritual energy. In other words, I'm good as the little human they claim I am.

I gritted my teeth, ducking out of the way as the two attempted to throw a kick. I tried manipulating their emotions, but nothing was working while they continue their relentless attack. On the front, the orc going after Salem finally lifted his giant hammer to smash him down. Only to raise his hand and directly block the weapon. He didn't even have to use energy to blast the orc away, eventually going back to concentrating. He's strong, with or without energy and I feel threatened all over again.

A sword was thrown right at me at my surprise, falling right in front where it got stuck on the ground. Salem looked at me for a second, and I knew at that moment he was underestimating me thinking I would need a weapon just to hold myself against them. This is why Andrei had been training me not to use my energy between our spars back in the Plains. Perhaps I wasn't all that powerful without my spiritual energy to begin with. Caelesti of the Unknown? What a joke. I can't even handle three orcs with just my strength alone.

I clenched my fists, sensing the other orcs about to land a hit above me but I didn't move nor turn around. I have, apparently, fallen so low now that I even need a stranger's aid to fend off my own opponents. This is pitiful. I thought so, swallowing my pride as I grabbed the hilt of the sword, pulling it out of the ground. Turning around, I deflected their weapons using my own thinking it would break. But to my surprise, the sword was more than enough, sending them all meters back in a single slash.

The sword was long and big, about four to five inches wide, it was sturdy yet comfortable around my hand. The heaviness was making my arm fall, forcing myself to use both as I bend my knees, preparing to accelerate. The moment they went forward, I kicked the ground with my feet, meeting them directly. I shifted my body to the right, the hammer barely passing by my shoulder. Lifting the sword, I used her hammer as a leverage to jump behind then hit the orc's neck by the hilt, and she was already falling down when I jumped.

The other two didn't let me get away and before I was even aware of it, I was already laying on the ground after the male orc just punched my stomach. I rolled over to my left, their weapon causing a slight tremble beneath the ground. Tightening my grip on the hilt of the weapon on my hand, I sat up and and braced myself over the other orc. He saw me coming and without hesitation, three his big hammer at my direction. I bent my body backwards, letting the hammer go past and along with my body straightening up, I threw my sword at him.

His reaction was slow, obviously unprepared for it that he was shot right at his shoulder. He groaned, backing away as green blood began to drip slowly. Avoiding the third orc's attack, I clung to his back and jumped right above the earlier orc with a kick right under his  jawline. I heard a snap before he fell down, immediately grabbing the sword to slash behind me. The last male orc stepped back, holding his wrist where a deep cut was evident. He took a deep breath, but before he could scream to attract the rest of the camp, he was already kneeling, his eyes widening as he met the ground unconsciously.

"You've been too used at having mana that you can't even handle three orcs without it." Salem said coming from behind the fallen orc, his voice covering his exhaustion.

Ignoring that fact, I threw him back his sword, which he easily caught and sheathed back to the scabbard on his hip. I looked behind me, the lights were still glowing but they were even dimmer now. It seems what he was doing was no used after all. What was that even all about? Though he didn't let me ask, grabbing another cigarette and lighting it up.

"How can you even use energy in this place?"

"I can't." He exhaled a smoke, sighing. "The chant forces the energy out of the body to transfer down that entrance, and it won't stop absorbing mana unless you stop chanting."

"What was that all about?" I urged.

"The less you know, the better." He turned around, his cape fluttering as he walked away. "It looks like what I'm seeking for isn't here as well, better move to another place then. Oh and you should go ahead too, orcs won't let you be once they wind up about their unconscious comrades."

Which was him saying he has been moving from places to places to find this 'entrance', but for what exactly? Letting my curiosity get the better of me, I headed towards the bronze platform. Once again, I felt Sigillum vibrating in persuasion inside me. It felt strange, like I was being begged to connect unto this platform, as though whatever this entrance is, Sigillum needs it or needs to be in it.

"To the cryptids forsaken beneath these myriads," words just formed out of my mouth, my hand unconsciously touching the platform. The lights began to blink, illuminating. "The brethren of your souls screams your name."

A small dark magic circle appeared on the surface of my hand, moving in motion as a sequence of crytpic letters and numbers moved like tattoos being imprinted on my right wrist, traveling up my arm. I could feel my own energy throbbing, my heart racing in synch with the beats laid underneath this platform.

"What..." Salem stood beside me, his eyes widening which eventually turned to a grin. "Who would have thought?"

"Heed my command," The bronze platform reflected my own, my eyes glowing in bright pale blue but there was something in that glow that felt strangely pleasant. It was power. "And grant me my entrance."

The words seemed to have echoed, the energy waves emerging from the chant making it reverberate. Then it came in an instant, the energy wrapped around us all of the sudden that a bright luminous light began to replace all of my vision. Covering my eyes, I braced myself for whatever that was going to happen, but nothing did. Instead, I could see nothing but darkness all around me. I shivered, the cold erasing the warmth in my body. My heart continued to beat, to the point that it was all I could hear as well as my footsteps as I scurried over this emptiness.

Along with that heartbeat was the intense throbbing of my head, distant sound of people singing reached my ears. The song was unrecognizable, nor the words spoken behind it. Emotions were carried in those voices, both hatred and sorrow creating the melody sung in such a soft and gentle tune. But there was also distraught and that everlasting agony. The song of worship offered just to be forsaken, a requiem. It struck deep within me, feeling Sigillum's wrath and that undeniable sense of despair that I hadn't realized tears were flowing.

I stopped, something bumped beside me. I looked down to see a child, around six with a long black hair falling right around her face that already reached her lower back. I crouched lower, my hand shaking as I moved her hair aside. My breath finally caught on, almost stopping as those pale, blue eyes probed deep into my existence. Despite that bright glow, they looked so dull, deep and filled with so much hatred that it was burning her heart, locking it all up in hiding and every second she breathe, that hatred was fuelled like an ever rekindling fire never quenched.

Her grip around my sleeve tightened, the look on her face was blank as she drew her face nearer, her lips parting into whisper. "Nakalimutan mo na ba, Ke'ala?"

"Nandoon siya!"

"Bilis! Masaya 'to, hulihin na natin siya."

Another five children appeared at the of the darkness, the white light behind where they came from was glowing. They were older than this girl, bigger...and stronger. But it was as though the rest of the children don't see me, they went past, grabbing the girl by the back of her clothes and dragged her somewhere. Laughter escaped their mouths, insults and words that never really did hurt the girl. For she was used to it, little did they know it only boosted her energy, her hatred.

Darkness still surrounded me, but for these children, they see differently. They stopped inside an empty room, one child acted as though she was locking the door behind her. It was then the real game started. They surrounded her. One girl grabbed her hair, the other boy held a scissor while the rest clenched their fists in anticipation. The girl merely focused her stares at me, making sure I was watching that building hatred.

"Ano ang tinitingnan mo?" Tanong ng isang lalaki sabay suntok sa mukha ng bata.

"Hoy, s-sigurado ba tayo dito? Anak parin siya ng Head Lord at myembro parin siya ng Main Family." Wika nung babaeng sumara ng pintuan.

"Tsk. Edi umalis ka. Sabi ni Mama ay wala siyang karapatan na maging isang Feyree. Tignan mo nga ang mata niya, mas asul pa ang sa atin."

"Isa pa," ngumiti ang babaeng may hawak sa buhok nito at mas hinigpitan pa ang paghawak dito. "Hindi ba at nakakainis ang buhok niya? Ang haba haba. Ang tunay na Feyree ay may pakialam din sa mukha nila nu."

"Pinsan kaya natin 'yan."

"Lahat naman tayo dito sa Feyree Household ay magkamag-anak. Ampon yata ang isang 'to eh."

My expressions remained unchanging as they began slapping the girl. The girl,