The Lone Wanderer-Chapter 238: Crimson dawn

‘I can’t control my body. No… Micky’s body.’ Percy realized.

It wasn’t that strange. This was probably a fixed memory – nothing like the clones he was used to creating. Everything Micky was experiencing right now had already happened a long time ago. Giving up resistance, Percy allowed his body to move as it wanted to, focusing on gathering as much information as possible instead of fighting it.

Obviously, this had to be Huehue, but not as he remembered it. The complete absence of sunlight was odd, considering that the local star’s location was supposedly fixed in place.

‘Are we currently on the dark side? That would explain the cold…’

Micky was doing relatively ok. He was still a child in this memory, but he was better dressed than Percy remembered him from their time together. His clothes were worn and full of holes, of course, but at least he did have a few layers on. More importantly, Micky was a Yellow-born, his body better suited to weather the elements.

His mother was alright too. Sure, she was pale and haggard – probably due to hunger more than the cold – but she didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger. Her Orange core wasn’t doing her any favours, but her adult body helped.

It was the third person in their company that had it the worst. Percy only registered her presence when Micky turned her way. His sister must’ve been a couple years older than him, but she was also an Orange-born like their mother. Her face wasn’t as thin as theirs – she was probably given more food than them, to better her odds. Still, she wasn’t handling the cold as well. Not at all. She was shivering, her forehead adorned with frozen droplets of sweat. Her breath was rugged, wisps of silver escaping with each exhausted heave.

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“I think we should take a break.” Micky’s mother said in a foreign language, looking at her daughter with concern.

The good news was that Percy understood her, likely because he was experiencing this through Micky’s perspective. Soon, everything around him faded, the splintered memory coming to an abrupt end.

***

The next thing he saw was the snowy wall of an artificial cave, illuminated by a cyan orb floating in front of Micky’s mother. The three of them were huddled together inside the tight space, trying to keep each other warm.

His sister – whose name neither he nor Micky seemed capable of recalling – was munching on some frozen rations. As for the others, they were just watching her, probably having to fast due to the scarcity of their supplies.

That was when Micky’s mother picked up an object from within her clothes. An object Percy identified.

‘A kik’lit!’

Placing her beak inside the wide end, the woman blew a tired breath in it, as all twenty of her fingers brushed over the holes along its twin shafts. The familiar melody soon filled the small cave, bouncing off the cold walls.

‘She’s even better than Micky was!’

Percy hadn’t thought it possible, but the melody flowed more smoothly than the last time he’d heard it, the two tunes blending together seamlessly.

Finally having a moment to think, countless questions swirled within Percy’s mind. Why was this happening? Was Micky about to regain his memories? Just how long had this woman practiced to get this good?

But he shoved all of them aside, losing himself in the beautiful music. He didn’t even register the passage of time until the memory broke off again, everyone skipping to the next scene.

***

Micky was walking with his family again, trudging through the darkness. The howling winds were loud enough to mask both the crunches of their steps and their rhythmic breaths. The good news was that the girl was doing a little better than before, the short break having helped.

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“Mother… how much longer until we reach the bright side?” Percy asked, surprising himself.

“We’re nearly there…” the woman said, before sighing. “But don’t get too excited. You know we can’t stay there too long. As soon as your sister is better, we’ll have to leave.”

The boy nodded as Percy pondered his mother’s cryptic words. She hadn’t said much, but he could piece a couple of things together thanks to what he already knew about Huehue. According to his understanding of this place, the bright side was entirely under their enemies’ control. As for the dark side, it was scantly liveable. Especially for people at the lower grades.

‘I guess families on the run have to spend their lives roaming near the border, juggling their time between the two sides depending on whether they’re more pressed for warmth or cover…’

***

Percy couldn’t tell if this was the same memory, or if he’d skipped ahead again. Micky’s sister was back to doing worse, and even his mother looked more gaunt. Micky himself had grown tired, the cold seeping through his clothes, biting at his skin.

Still, it was something else that captured his attention. A crimson glint pierced through the horizon, casting its dim light upon them. The light instantly illuminated their surroundings a little, allowing Percy to make them out. A plain of red snow stretched as far as his vision did.

They weren’t close enough for him to feel any warmth yet. The sunlight Huehue received wasn’t that intense to begin with – even the places directly underneath the star weren’t very hot. But the tiniest difference might just be enough to save the girl’s life.

‘A small consolation, given how this ends.’ Percy would have sighed if he could.

Micky had already told him what had become of his family. Only, he wasn’t sure if it was days or years from now...

Either way, the others hadn’t a clue about that, so they just pressed onward with renewed vigour, their gazes locked on the eerie star. Suffice to say, Percy was more unsettled than they were, this being his first time watching such a strange sunrise.

Yet, its sheer beauty was undeniable. It was as if somebody had buried an enchanted ruby in the distance, the colossal gemstone slowly emerging from the snow with every step they took.

‘A dawn governed by distance rather than time…’

***

When the memory next broke off, he found himself farther along the plain, the dim star having climbed a little higher. It was almost entirely above the horizon by now. The wind wasn’t quite as cold as it had been, though the difference was barely noticeable. But that was the least of their problems.

It wasn’t just the three of them anymore. Standing a few paces ahead, a group of men looked at Micky’s family with unconcealed disdain. His mother was on her knees, seemingly pleading with them to spare her children. One of them stepped forth. Percy recognized him too! After all, he was the very person who’d ended this man’s life!

‘Mixcoatl.’

It was decades before they would meet, but – as a Yellow-cored adult – his appearance wouldn’t change that much.

‘So, today’s the day after all, isn’t it?’

Percy wanted nothing more than to stop it. To spare his friend from reliving the tragedy. But there was nothing he could do. Everything was already set in stone…

Oblivious to his thoughts, and unconcerned about the distraught mother’s cries, Mixcoatl took one deep breath after another, flooding his body with mana. He manifested a couple of javelins in two of his hands, crossing the other pair of arms in front of his chest. By the time he reached them, the cyan lines had already lit up all over his body.

Micky followed suit, unwilling to take this without a fight. Percy noticed the boosting art helped a little with the cold enveloping them from outside, though Circulation probably did more harm than good, all things considered. Their lungs protested as Micky kept filling them with cold air, a wave of numbness spreading out of their chest.

Still, the boy ignored the discomfort, rushing at the older man with a couple rods of his own, fully intent to lay his life down if he had to – to protect his loved ones.

Mixcoatl merely cackled at the sight, however. He shattered Micky’s weapons with ease, the constructs not nearly as firm as they would eventually grow to be...

“Leave this one alive. He’ll make a fine gladiator.” he said, kicking Micky back to his companions.

The men held him down, but Micky didn’t pay them any heed, struggling to lift his head up as he clawed against the snow. He raised his eyes just in time to watch the javelin pierce through both women with a sickening squelch, a splash of blood painting the snow an even deeper red.

Neither of them let a sound out, sobbing quietly in each other’s arms, tears rolling down their cheeks as more blood dripped from their beaks.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Micky screamed, but noone cared.

Noone but Percy. Percy wanted to console his friend. To promise him they’d chase Mixcoatl to the ends of the universe if they had to. That they wouldn’t rest until he was dead. But he already was, and this memory wasn’t any less painful for it.

He felt the emptiness in Micky’s chest, as the boy’s heart was torn out. The sting in his eyes, as they welled with tears. The bitter lump nesting in his throat. The cold winds, lashing against his skin, uncaring about his sorrow. The memory was just as vivid as the day it happened.

And then… it was over.