Ghosts of the Past - Part 3

     Looking at the trio, Sylvana was reminded of the past she wanted to escape from so desperately. Though the majority of her wanted to forget about her, the young captain from years prior refused to forget. These were comrades she fought with, through tooth and nail, and through the utter hell of the Meridell-Darigan War. They were her family when she thought she had none.

     But looking at them now, it was like looking at strangers. Though they appeared the same, it was clear to Sylvana that the war and her abandonment changed them. It wasn’t just physical scars that they carried: even though she was silent, Sylvana could tell that they carried mental scars, ones that traumatised them underneath their harsh front.

     As for which kind of scars were worse, Sylvana would never know.

     Silence once again filled the still air as Gunnar, Iago, and Torvald all stared at the Darigan Kyrii before them. But Sylvana hardly noticed them, as she found herself staring at each of the scars the trio carried: the scar that tore across Gunnar’s eyes, the good chunk of ear Iago was missing, and most disturbing of all...

     “What?” Torvald spat, snapping Sylvana out of her thoughts. “You’re staring at my helmet.”

     Sylvana instantly turned away, not saying a single word. Torvald scoffed at this sight as he pulled his helmet back once again, and looking at his horrendous scars made Sylvana flinch.

     “You remember, don’t you?” A wry grin stretched across the Nimmo's face. “That explosion from that axe of yours? Seeing how everyone around you got burned alive? Hearing the screams of your comrades?”

     Sylvana felt her heart sink. “What happened to you, Torvald?”

     “It’s obvious, isn’t it? I survived that blast. If you hadn’t run away, you would’ve seen.”

     Sylvana did not answer back right away, as her gaze went to the ground once again, eyes filled with anguish.

     “I thought you all died.” Her voice was a whisper.

     “Well, clearly, we’re not,” Iago snorted. “Did you even bother to look as you ran?”

     “It happened so quickly,” Sylvana whispered, shaking her head. “The axe started glowing, and that magical blast from Kass caused-”

     A vicious snarl from Iago cut off Sylvana’s words, enough to make her jump slightly.

     “Do not try to push the blame onto Kass. This is your fault and yours alone. You abandoned us.”

     Beside his virulently angry comrades, Gunnar spoke, his voice calm, yet stern. “Do you remember anything about that day?”

     Sylvana remained silent once again at Gunnar’s question. The second she ran away from that battle, she swore to never bring images of it to mind ever again. But she didn’t have much choice

     She shut her eyes and took in a breath as memories from that battle flashed in her mind. Before long, a ringing shot through her ears like a bullet, all while screams of pain echoed in the background. Her chest started to feel tight as dark magic filled her lungs, and when she looked around, Meridell soldiers and Darigan sentinels alike writhed in pain, with her comrades grabbing her leg in a desperate attempt to beg for help.

     But she didn’t help them. She couldn’t do anything to help them.

     “...Not a lot,” Sylvana finally answered. A lie.

     “How did you even survive?” Gunnar asked, raising an eyebrow. “It was a massive explosion. Hardly anyone survived.”

     Sylvana shook her head again. “I have no idea. Perhaps my axe protected me, in a cruel twist of fate.”

     “You say that, but you don’t have any major scars of your own,” Iago pointed out. While Sylvana had scars (namely her torn right ear, a slash running across her left arm, and most noticeable of all, a slash running across the centre of her face), they were nothing on the calibre like him or Torvald.

     “I have deeper scars, Iago.” Sylvana’s voice grew low. “Perhaps even on par with yours.”

     Hearing Sylvana’s words made Torvald’s eye flare in immediate anger. But Gunnar, noticing the Nimmo's rage, extended an arm out in a blocking position. After turning to the elder Yurble (who simply gave him a stern glare back), Torvald let his anger subside, but not entirely, as he locked eyes with the Kyrii.

     “I suppose that part is true, Sylvana. But tell us this - why did you run away?”

     Sylvana opened her mouth as if to answer, but it was clear that hesitation gripped her, as she fell silent once again. It appeared to continue for minutes, but to Torvald, the silence was maddening. Growling, he angrily slammed his fist against the box he was sitting on.

     “Well?! You pledged your life to the Darigan Citadel, to us! But despite that...you ran away and abandoned everything and everyone that ever mattered to you! Have you no answer for that, traitor?!”

     Despite her silence, a low growl filled the air, a growl that wasn’t Torvald’s, Iago, or Gunnar. When Sylvana finally spoke, her voice was deathly low, and her eyes were now a narrowed, intense glare.

     “I have my reasons for what I did. But it’s not like someone as young and as arrogant as you could ever understand, Torvald.”

     Once again, Torvald’s eyes burned with rage as he moved to strike the Kyrii. But Iago and Gunnar were quick, as they managed to restrain the Nimmo before he could reach Sylvana. As he wrangled with the angry Nimmo, Iago turned back to the Kyrii.

     “You didn’t answer us, Sylvana. What exactly are these ‘reasons’ of yours?!”

     At her sides, Iago noticed Sylvana’s fists clench.

     “...Fine. Since you’re so insistent on knowing, I’ll tell you.” Sylvana took in a breath in an attempt to control her newfound irritation.

     “You all know that the Darigan Citadel has never been a kind place. Not to its king, not to its citizens, no one is safe from that wasteland’s sheer brutality. That was a lesson I learned even as a child.”

     The trio remained silent as they listened.

     “I never knew who my father was, and I lost my mother not long after I was born. I had nothing and no one, even as a child. But when the second Meridell-Darigan War came, I saw my chance. But it’s not for the reasons you’re used to - it wasn’t for honour, glory, or even just to see the enemy suffer.” She paused for a moment to look up at the trio, and what was once a glare in her eyes had now softened.

     “I wanted to find somewhere I could belong. A family. But that vanished the second Kass sent that magic spell to destroy my axe. You all saw yourselves. Soldiers we called allies died.”

     Sylvana took in another breath, this time a rather shaky one. “We’re practically meaningless to the Darigan Citadel. We’re all just expendable. Puppets whose strings can be cut whenever our master deems it necessary.”

     “That may have been true while under Kass’s rule,” Gunnar stepped forward. “But not anymore, Sylvana. The Citadel isn’t the same land it was when you ran away.”

     “Gunnar’s right,” Iago added. “Kass is no more. Lord Darigan has come back to rule, and the Darigan Citadel has changed for the better. Though it is still a harsh land, it is one where we once again strive to strengthen not only ourselves but our comrades.”

     Sylvana scoffed, but in her mind, Iago’s point lingered. “That place will always be a wasteland to me now. If I abandoned the Citadel, why does Lord Darigan care what happens to me?”

     “We care about you,” Gunnar stated as he took another step forward, his large form shadowing the much smaller Kyrii. “So I’ll ask you only once, Sylvana.” He extended a clawed hand out to her.

     “Will you come back with us? You can still mend what you have done. I’ll persuade Lord Darigan to pardon you.”

     In her head, Sylvana wanted to believe that the Darigan Citadel was a changed land. One where Kass was a thing of the past, and that Lord Darigan could somehow pardon her for her unforgivable desertion. She wanted to believe that her comrades still cared about her, despite Iago and Torvald’s rather virulent hatred towards her.

     But she knew that it was wishful thinking.

     , But there was one thing she did believe with her entire being - she could never forgive herself for betraying the trust of her comrades. Not just Gunnar, Iago, and Torvald, but all of the unnamed sentinels she watched suffer as she sprinted away in a desperate fit of panic. Her spirit had broken the second her axe exploded, and broken things were better off staying broken than trying to mend what was irreparable.

     “...No,” she answered, her voice stern. “I will not go back.”

     “What?!” Iago’s voice rose in increased hostility. “What do you mean, you’re not going back?!”

     Sylvana’s glare returned for a moment as she glanced at the Lupe. “You heard me. I’m never going back.”

     Next to Iago, Torvald’s bony wings flapped out in response to his anger. “Do you honestly expect us to accept that? After knowing what you’ve done, the innocents that died because of you, you expect us to just leave you alone?! Like everything you did never happened at all?!”

     “I’m not denying that what happened ever happened,” Sylvana answered. “Just...tell Lord Darigan that I died. That part is true enough. The captain of that squadron all those years ago, that Sylvana died a long time ago. Here in Meridell, I’m someone different. Someone who’s moved on from the past.”

     “You’ve moved on from what happened,” Iago snarled, and Sylvana swore she could see his eyes glow. “We haven’t. And we never will.”

     “You can’t run away from your past forever, Sylvana,” Gunnar said, keeping his composure amidst Iago’s anger. “We still remember the captain of that squadron, the one who was brave. Secretive perhaps, but she was strong. She always fought for her comrades, even if it meant forsaking her own well-being. If you insist that Kass’s attack broke you, then perhaps seeing the Citadel reforged will mend your spirits.”

     Sylvana remained silent.

     “As much as I loathe to admit it, Gunnar means it when he says he’ll try to have you pardoned.” The way Iago spoke, it was obvious that everything he said came out begrudgingly. “So you have two options here, Sylvana. Come back with us to the Citadel, and all will be well. But if you refuse…”

     Iago slowly reached for his longswords, in which Gunnar sent an irritated growl towards the Lupe. Iago, though still thoroughly annoyed, slowly withdrew his arms only to fold them in front of his chest.

     “So there we have it. Now, are you truly sure of your choice, Sylvana?” Gunnar asked.

     To be continued…