Chapter 28

Departure

A fairly large group of thirteen stood by the massive hole in the wall, surrounded on all ends by a much larger crowd, most of whom had mixed expressions. Some were of relief, some of pity, and some of glee. At the far front, Valen stared intently at Sylas, as though asking with his eyes one last time whether the Prophet was certain—and Sylas’ reply was as confident as the first day he suggested the expedition.

Unfortunately, Sylas mused, he'd likely have to go through this moment numerous times since he hardly expected the expedition to go without a hitch on the first try. As such, he didn't want to dally around for too long, pushing the goodbyes and the ceremony to go as quickly as possible. Because of his push, the whole thing lasted less than an hour, and, right after, the group departed, with him at the front leading the charge fearlessly.

As soon as they crossed the small patch of land between the walls and the forest, the light dimmed and though it was a clear day just a moment ago, it grew much darker. The canopy of the trees was fairly thick, and since the trees themselves were beyond numerous, few rays of the sun managed to cleanly pierce through and illuminate the world.

Save for the two Captains, Sylas, and the young boy(girl), there was another porterboy—Jayl, a nineteen-year-old kid who, strangely enough, also volunteered for the expedition. However, that was where the list of volunteers ended.

The seven guards that came along were effectively forced to come along. The youngest was in his early forties while the oldest was on the grasp of hitting the sixth decade. Despite their disgruntled expressions, they were left with no choice. As such, they hardly carried the uplifted spirit that Sylas showcased. In fact, they somehow managed to learn that it was his idea to lead the expedition and, since they couldn’t blame the Prince, they offloaded all their hate onto him.

Sylas didn’t mind it, electing to ignore their gazes and focus on the front. This was the first time he’s left the castle since coming here, and his curiosity toward the world was far greater than toward the scorned men.

Tenner walked next to him, keeping up the front, while Tebek shielded the rear. The other guards formed a winged formation, three on each end and one near the porterboys. Sylas didn’t know much about the foot soldier’s formations but this one seemed fine to him.

“What do you expect to find?” Tenner asked Sylas in a hushed tone. Sylas knew that the man wanted to talk to him all this while, but Sylas purposefully kept his distance.

“The truth behind the invasion,” Sylas replied honestly, glancing at the Captain. Of all the people on the expedition, Sylas knew he could really only trust Tenner.

“… how?” the Captain asked.

“I don’t know,” Sylas shrugged, maintaining the honesty. “But don’t you find it strange? That the wasteland that shouldn’t have the capacity to uphold even the life of critters is somehow managed to procure regular invasions? The Prince found it odd, too. That’s why he suggested the expedition in the first place.”

"…" Tenner remained silent—he was curious too, after all. It was one of the unspoken rules of the Ethwar Castle not to mention the fact that logically speaking, Ghouls shouldn't have the ability to invade in the capacity that they do. Whatever little tales were told, such that they were the weakest of all the monsters, were mere fabrications and stories. The truth was… nobody knew what lay beyond the small dent inside the forest, and especially not what lay beyond the forest itself.

The group walked for three hours straight without break, running into nothing but more trees and grass and rocks and shrubberies. Growing slightly tired, Sylas found a faint clearing and decided they should rest for a little while. Unlike him, who still appeared fearless, everyone else was on the edge. They have been, really, for two hours now. The castle had long since vanished from their view and they knew that, if they were attacked here, there would be no help. They were on their own.

Sylas popped open a gourd of sweet wine and drank a mouthful, recharging himself. This world, unfortunately, didn't have coffee or its equivalent—at least not this far away from the civilization—and, as such, the best way to recharge energy wasn't caffeine but a sugar rush. Unfortunately, sugar was also quite a commodity, which made sweetened wine the best source. It was beyond disgusting to drink, as though he kneaded a pound of grapes into ten pounds of sugar and then dipped it into the water before sealing. Sylas knew little of how the wines are produced, but he knew that no normal production would ever spit out something as disgusting as the wine he was drinking.

He suffered, though, since it was effective. The injection of sugar seemed to revitalize him, though others didn’t really eat or drink anything, likely worried that they’d toss it back out due to nervousness.

From Sylas' perspective, the forest was no different than any other he ever walked through. When he was a wee-young-boy, in the late eighties, before the world became an array of connected strings, his father used to take him on cross-country camping trips. They'd often pitch a tent either next to or inside the forests not unlike this one. The trees, especially during the summer, ensured that the shade maintained bearable temperatures, and they were even good canopy for when it rained or snowed.

Unlike most of his friends, he never shared that fear of the forest’s darkness; to him, it was calming, natural. Forests were meant to be shaded in dark, while meadows and plains were meant to be open, alighted, green.

The most shocking part about the forest, in fact, was how dead it was. There were no critters, no birds, no reptiles, no insects… in fact, Sylas was certain he hadn’t seen a living animal ever since entering. Though plants were numerous, they were quite uniform, with nary a colorful cascade to be seen.

“Everyone rested?” Sylas asked, glancing back at the group. Some men jumped, some winced, and the boy(girl) beamed him a smile of excitement. How was it, he mused inwardly, that the weakest and the youngest were the most fearless? No, the answer is clear: I’m immortal, and she’s a moron. “Alright, let’s go then.”

The group stood up and resumed their walk. Thirteen souls went back into the formation, their steps appearing even more uneven and uncertain now. The crumbling of the leaves beneath their boots often startled them, and any time a wind happened to whizz by it was as though they'd seen a ghost. Rather than the forest-inspired fear, these terrors were clearly the result of having grown up with the stories of this place. It was akin to an urban legend.

Sylas remembered there being a ‘cursed house’ in his neighborhood; it was a small, two-story place en-route to his school. He’d pass by it every day with his friends and, somewhere along the way, stories about the place started spreading out: the house was haunted, some years ago a woman slit her wrists in the bathtub and her corpse is still there, the walls were painted red with blood… within a year, Sylas was genuinely terrified of the place and recalled going a roundabout route that added a whole hour to his journey when alone.

Naturally, none of those things were true; the house was simply in disrepair, and some teens used that as a canvas for their graffiti which, being red and all, could look like blood. Shaking his head, he smiled, grateful that this world, despite being alien, was also familiar. Horror stories born of imagination, stretched thinner through generations until boogeymen are born.

“Stop,” Tenner suddenly called out, causing Sylas to stop and look at him. The man’s brows were furrowed, his expression hardened. “Does anyone else recognize this patch of trees?”

“H-huh?”

“Look,” Tenner pointed at a fairly unique pattern of six trees that made a half-circle. “I… I remember we passed these. Two hours ago.”

“… what are you saying? That we somehow circled back?” Sylas quizzed, unconcerned. If it truly was just the matter of it being fairly easy to get lost in the forest, that was an easy problem to solve.

“No—I, I don’t know,” Tenner said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“No,” an unsuspecting voice spoke out suddenly—the young boy’s(girl’s). He(she) said his name was Ryu, though how accurate that was, Sylas couldn’t know. “We haven’t circled back. We’ve been running around this patch for the last two hours. The trees are patterned after a talisman. I haven’t realized it myself until you pointed it out.”

“…”

“…”

“The hell does a porterboy know?!” Tebek growled angrily, raising his arm and swinging it toward the boy(girl).

“Pipe down,” Sylas’ chilly voice froze Tebek’s arm mid-swing, causing the Captain to look at the man he considered worthless not too long ago. Yet, that voice… that voice was cold. Frigid. “What talisman?” Sylas turned toward Ryu and asked.

“I’m not sure about the specific talisman,” he(she) replied, frowning. “It’s definitely of the mind-altering type, though. That’s likely why we just continued going around in circles.”

“Is us being aware of it kind of like a cure?”

“Should be,” Ryu nodded.

“If there’s one, there’s another,” Sylas said, stroking his chin. “Alright, porterboy, you’re with me. Keep your eyes peeled for the trees shaped like fucking talismans. Jesus, this place. Others, stop shitting your pants and focus. Be like Tenner. Even while the rest of us were happy to skedaddle around like morons, he noticed something was wrong. So, notice things. It’s just a bunch of trees. And if ghosts do show up, don’t worry—I’m extremely good at exorcising them.”

“You—you’re an Exorcist!!” Tenner suddenly exclaimed and, to Sylas’ shock, the atmosphere completely shifted from just a moment ago. Wait, what? Sylas just tossed the word in, he didn’t know that Exorcists were a thing here as well. “Yes, now it all makes so much sense—why the Prince trusts you, why he accepted your proposal so readily, why you’re so confident… you’re an Exorcist!”

“He’s an Exorcist…”

“Oh, thank God! Thank God!”

“No wonder… no wonder he’s so calm…”

“…” Ryne’s eyes widened, but not because she was shocked that the man was an Exorcist—no, wait, he’s not Exorcist! She wanted to scream out but held back. How did she know? Well, it was simple, really: she was an Exorcist, not him.