-Departure-

“Quick now, Don...We don’t have much time left...Vernon will soon be free... “ Bastille muttered in between pained gasps. Bruises and lacerations scoured his body with the most distressing wound being the large puncture in his chest. These grievous injuries oozed like broken faucets, spilling onto the floor, and forming a thick pool of blood.

“Hurry, leave Vanden with my son…Take Clover far away from here…” He gasped as he glanced at the collapsed boy at his feet.

“Bastille! I can kill him here! I can end this feud with a single strike!” Don screeched as he glared over at their enemy, Vernon Trax, who was paralyzed from the archaic glyphs that meandered and floated all over his body. Vernon, who was once an Adlan, had been deformed and twisted. Two demonic horns adorned his head while his body was covered in black scales. Even his rear sported a thin tail that was similar to a whip.

“Haha...Yes, Don...Come over to your disciple. End my life like you promised you would!” Vernon wildly laughed as he outstretched his neck. “Here! I present my neck to you! It will only take a single slice from your spear to end the bad blood between us!”

Don stood still. He knew he was being provoked. It was clear that Vernon hid some ulterior motive behind his words. But that did not stop Don from inching his way toward the man. Their decade-long feud had to end!

“No Don! Stop and honor my dying request! Please take Clover from this place and never return!” Bastille shouted in desperation.

His words stopped Don in his tracks. His fist gripped his deadly spear, causing it to turn a ghostly white. His face was contorted with a myriad of emotions, but after what seemed like an hour of deliberation, he turned back and walked over to Bastille. He paused for a moment and looked into Bastille’s eyes, before picking up the unconscious boy at his feet, and swinging him over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

“Thank you…” Bastille sighed in relief before frowning. “Maria was right...Clover should never have become a Seeker. This lifestyle...is...not what he should have pursued….We should have sent him to Saintos, along with Violet. At least then...this would never have happened…”

Don stared at his disciple blankly. He was not one for honeyed words, nor was he one for sentiment. But as he looked over at the beaten and destroyed body of the man he considered his son, he couldn’t help but become overtaken by a sudden wave of emotions. Anger, grief, dismay, love, and terror all filled his heart until it threatened to explode. But his face did not show any of this. It continued to carry the same blank expression he had worn since his youth.

“Here...Take these with you...Take it to Saintos...Make sure to deliver it to Sinclair…” Bastille moaned as he pulled out two objects from his pocket. The first was a small golden badge with the image of a book and a quill. The other was a small red stone that was hot to the touch.“Please, no matter what...Do not seek revenge...Make sure Clover is safe…”

“Argh!” Vernon bellowed in rage. Dozens of glyphs that bound his body shattered, making it that much easier for him to free himself! “Damn you Bastille! I will allow you and your son to live as long as you give me Mordou’s Blood! I will even bring Maria back to you!”

“Never...As long as I can still breathe...I will make sure that they will ever elude you…” Bastille wheezed before entering a coughing fit.“The glyphs will soon break! Go now, Don!”

“Very well…” Don muttered as he looked at both of his disciples for the last time. With heavy feet and an even heavier heart, he departed from the basement of the evacuated Seeker’s Guild, and onto the devastated streets of Vanden.

Enormous fires leaped from building to building, erasing away the grandeur of centuries-long prosperity. Demons roamed the streets, killing and torturing any unfortunate souls that were unable to flee from the invasion. And although Don could help those who were in trouble, he chose not too. Instead, he continued forward with a blank expression. The cries of anguish and despair were not new to him. And they did not bother him whatsoever.

But the words that Bastille had said to him did. They plagued his thoughts and disturbed his heart. He wanted to carry out his dying request. But at the same time, Don wanted vengeance!

“Where am I?” Clover muttered as he rose from his bed of hay. He felt as if he was moving and he could hear the sound of waves and the cries of seagulls along with the scent of the ocean. “A ship?! Why am I on a ship?!” He gasped as he jumped, only to fall down to his feet as waves of pain resounded throughout his body.

“No! That does not matter! What happened to everyone?!” He shouted as memories raced through his mind at light-speed. Vanden, fire, demons, the portal, Karim, Don, the demonic man, and Bastille! All these thoughts entered his mind at once, nearly causing him to vomit!

“Dad!” Clover cried out. The last thing he had seen was the image of his invincible father, beaten and maimed to a degree that was unimaginable in his mind. With weak feet, he hobbled out of the small room he had slept in. He had difficulties at first due to the bobbing of the ship, but he soon found his stride and managed to shuffle out the door.

He was right, he was onboard a ship. Various members of the crew strutted along the deck without a care in the world. One of them, in particular, walked over to Clover and spoke to him.

“Don is at the rear of the ship, he said to bring you to him as soon as you woke.”

“Okay, but where am I?! What happened to Vanden?!”

“That is something that Don must tell you…” He said with a pained expression. The sailor took Clover to the rear of the ship. It was nearly empty, with the only soul being a stern old man with a domineering aura.

“Don! What happened to Vanden?! What happened to Bastille and Maria?! Did any of the Seekers escape?! Where are we?!” A jumble of questions spilled from Clover’s mouth like a waterfall, spilling onto the floor and threatening to flood the ship. “Where is my mom?! The Trio?! Savon and Ciri?! Heather?! Kate?! Sven?! Edwar-?!”

“Dead!” Don bellowed, before calming down. “They are all dead, Clover…I’m sorry...But we could not save any of them…”

“What...Dead?” His eyes drooped to the ground and filled with tears as the devastating news spread throughout his body and into his heart. “No...That can be possible…”

“It is. And I’ll be damned if I’ll let them get away with it! You hear me, Clover?! Are you going to sit there and cry? Or are you going to stand up and kill those who destroyed your everything?!”

Clover could not hear a single word Don said as he was still wracked with the sudden devastating information. Large tears fell onto the wooden floor before it became a deluge that blanketed his face. His face reddened and a large lump that threatened to suffocate him entered his throat.

“Clover!” Don yelled as he picked up the boy and shook him from his stupor. “My boy! Do not let this moment drive you to despair! Use it as a catalyst for revenge!”

“But...They are all gone...What can I do without them?” Clover said in between painful sobs. “How can I continue knowing that everything is gone?”

“It is not all gone! Use the memories of the ones you loved as fuel for vengeance! You know who did this to you! You know who caused all of your pain and misery! You must repay them a hundred-fold!”

“How…?”

“Follow me to Ma’ir, the capital of the Rylos Kingdom!I have someone who will help us! After that, we will begin our crusade against them! No matter what, do not forget that horrible feeling in your heart! As long as you carry that with you, nothing will impede your retribution!” Don declared before leaving the boy alone.

“He’s right…” Clover mumbled with a tear-soaked face. “It's their fault...No...Not theirs...HIS!”