Enmity of Atlas

Wake up

Trenton shot up like a bolt of lighting, his eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden burst of sunlight. He was…alive. Undeniably, he was alive. Unable to see anything, he pressed his hand to his chest where the hole was, the place where the man's hand splayed his ribcage apart like paper mache. Not only was there no sign of damage, Trenton could even feel his heart beating in his chest, the heart he was certain he had lost. He took a moment to feel different parts of his body, his chest, his arms, his back, and finally his legs. Every limb was still there, still attached. There wasn’t even a scar left behind…which meant it was a nightmare. It was all just a nightmare. No one died. Nothing happened. Everyone was fine.

With his eyes having finally adjusted, Trenton removed his hand from his face, allowing him to actually see where he was for the first time. The first thing he noticed was several massive dried streaks of crimson staining the grass beneath him–blood. It wasn’t his, certainly, he hadn't been injured in the slightest. He looked around, suddenly panicked. All around him there was only death and carnage. Maggot infested pieces of rib cages with bits of flesh still clinging to them were dug into the ground. Piles of organs from bodies turned inside out lay heaped together like mutilated blood shrines. Chunks of appendages were strewn all about as if an offering to a great beast was being made–death–not one, but many. Trenton slowly looked up. Atop the dozen or so stone pillars surrounding him, men, women and children were skewered, each one mangled beyond recognition. Some of them had limbs missing, some had organs loosely hanging out of their body, but some others weren't even recognizable as human anymore, piles of ambiguous red meat not even slightly resembling the people they once were.

Eyes wild and suddenly bursting with tears, Trenton rapidly kicked backwards, desperately trying to get away from the harrowing sight. But he couldn’t get away from this. How could he? Not even 10 feet from where he woke up, Trenton lurched over, beginning to violently retch. Only, there was one problem. Nothing came. As his body strained to expel whatever it was that could be ailing Trenton, it came up completely empty, instead forcing Trenton to painfully dry heave his empty stomach onto the grass for the next several minutes.

When he finally stopped, he pulled himself into a ball, lying on his side, and began to weep, not daring to look at the corpses again, or think about why his hands felt like they were coated in something. The memories of last night, undeniably real at this point, came flooding back, the way Staria disappeared, the way Delis sat slumped amidst his own blood, the way Lilly’s face melted while he was unable to do anything, the sight of seeing his own heart crushed in front of him, and that sudden feeling of his brain just cutting out. It was too much. It was all far too much.

For a time, Trenton lay there, wallowing amidst the dirt, slipping in and out of bursts of tears, secretly wishing he had died, too. But it wasn’t that simple, was it? He did die, afterall. But somehow, he was still alive–the lone survivor amidst a sea of corpses.

Trenton staggered to his feet, and began walking in a random direction, slowly stumbling his way along the bloodsoaked grass. Anywhere but here, that was where he needed to be. He just needed to be anywhere else in the world and things will be better. It wouldn’t bring them back, sure, but at least…once again, the memories raged through Trentons mind, ripping and tearing at his fragile psyche with every step, but this time, no tears were shed. He couldn’t even cry anymore, there wasn’t enough water left in his body.

Where even was he, anyway? Trenton meekly looked around, still desiring nothing more than to fall over dead. Taking care not to look behind him where the forest of corpses still sat, Trenton took in the odd landscape around him. In every direction, hills rolled lazily along, long untrimmed grass flowing peacefully in the breeze. Trenton had never even seen an environment like this one before. Aria certainly didn’t have hills like these anywhere within the city. Was Trenton outside of Aria? That couldn’t be. Because, that would mean…that would mean he was no longer within the safe confines of the walls. That would mean he was in incredible danger.

It didn’t make sense, the sudden fear filling every little corner of his body, but suddenly, he had the will to fight again, that burning desire to live. Trenton began to sprint, legs pounding on the ground, a sudden burst of adrenaline and fear making him forget all about what happened. He was in danger. Tumbling over hill after hill in a desperate attempt to find Aria again, running until he couldn’t bear it any longer, Trenton collapsed, rolling madly down the last hill in a pile of flailing limbs. For a while, Trenton lay there, doing nothing but catching his breath and working to right his mind. Running blindly wouldn’t work, he had to figure out where he was.

Slowly rising to his feet, brushing the dirt and grass off of his pants, or what's left of them, Trenton looked up. Towering pillars of stone stretching high into the sky, disappearing behind the clouds, piles of unidentifiable stone and wood rubble as far back as the eye can see, and another forest of corpses lay before him–the remains of the great city that was once Aria. Every direction, dozens, hundreds, even thousands of corpses littered the ground and sky, each one surrounded by several stone pillars absolutely drenched in blood. The walls to the city were practically rubble, with the only remaining sections being skewed horribly, the ground they were built upon having been tilted at horrific angles during whatever happened here. Trenton stood there, gawking at the remains of the city with a mix of awe and horror. It couldn’t be possible. They were protected. The cities were protected. They couldn’t fall. it wasn’t possible. The Conqueror would…he would protect them. That’s what he did, faterall. It was his job. His people…they needed…but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there to protect his people when they needed him most. No, all he had left behind–THE LAST BASTION OF DEFENSE–was Tiev. Tiev was supposed to prevent this, but Tiev didn’t know how to fight. He didn’t know how to do anything. And because there was no real duke to protect them, the city was gone, all its inhabitants with it. Well, all except for Trenton.

Trenton collapsed to his knees. it was over. Everything he knew was gone, everyone he loved was dead, and he would soon follow. The second some plains beast came along, he was certain to be killed, probably eaten alive by cliff crawlers or something–a slow and agonizing death. Good, it was what he deserved. Why else would he be alive? Loarch probably spared him, set him aside, so that he could take time torturing Trenton to death. That must’ve been it. There would be no other reason Trenton was still standing. It was divine intervention.

Trenton tried to cry, to weep, to do anything that would remove the horrible constricting pain in his chest. But once again, he came up empty handed. Instead, doubled down on all fours, Trenton’s body began to convulse, wracked with emotions powerful enough to tear his heart to splinters. The city was gone. Everyone was dead. There was nothing left. And…he was going to die, if he even could.

Next to him, Trenton felt a presence, a warmth like a brilliant shining light–a presence he'd felt thousands of times before. Standing next to Trenton, garbed in simple cloths and a traveler's cloak, was Walibeld, gazing pensively at the ruins of the city. His face was twisted into some sort of emotion that he'd never seen Walibeld express before–sorrow–pure sorrow. Walibeld, the strongest man Trenton knew, looked upset, distraught, even. He looked down at Trenton, his eyes softening to a look of pity, the look one would give a wounded animal on the side of the road. He kneeled down, pulling Trenton forward into a deep embrace, tenderly stroking the back of Trenton’s head. Once again, Trenton attempted to cry, and this time, the tears actually came. He wept a thousand tears, no, 600,000 tears–one for every poor denizen that took stage in last night's tragedy.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Trenton. I wasn’t here. I should have been here. I should have stopped this. I should have…rather I shouldn’t have left. But I did, and I wasn’t there the one day you truly needed me. I cannot change what has happened here. That is a power even beyond me. But I promise you, I will make things right. I will give you everything I can–everything there is–just to see you well again. I had hoped you would never know this pain, this suffering, this tragedy, but it seems that choice wasn’t yours to make. Many have suffered your fate before you and many will suffer after. But hear this and know truth. I will help you. I am here for you.”

They sat there for a while, Trenton weeping into Walibelds shoulder, until eventually, Trenton gathered the strength to pull away. They looked at each other for some time, Walibeld carefully studying Trentons face, clearly looking for something. When he eventually found it, he stood.

“We’ll be leaving soon, away from this place, to Wyrm’s perch where we may find some safety, until I can figure out what’s happened here,” Walibeld said, turning his gaze to the rubble that was Aria. “But first, I need to scan through Aria. I can’t be certain that there are no survivors until I check. And if there were survivors, and I left them here to die, I could never forgive myself. Stay here. I’ll just be a moment.”

“We’re going to travel the plains?” Trenton said, his voice weak and sore, “I-I can’t. I’m not ready yet. I’m nowhere near ready. I just want…to go back home,” Trenton said meekly, curling back up into a ball.

“I know, as do I. But, that was no longer a choice that we have. It pains me to leave you like this, but take heart. I promise I will leave for no longer than 10 minutes.”

Trenton tried to say something in response, anything to make him stay, but nothing came out. Itstead, he watched as Walibeld disappeared before his very eyes, the ground cracking beneath him from the sheer force of his leap, the air whipping violently around Trenton, who's still crumpled into a little ball.

Time passed, surely, but Trentons no longer kept track. For all he cared, time could just stop forever and the world would be better off. But, true to his promise, exactly 8 minutes later, Walibeld returned. Unlike the sudden burst of power Walibeld used to launch himself towards the city, this time, he just came jogging back. Except this time, he wasn’t alone. Trenton perked his head up from his fetal position on the ground, his eyes slowly coming into focus on Walibeld and whoever it was that he carried. It couldn’t be. He died, didn’t he? Slung over Walibeld’s shoulder, was the unconscious body of a particular fiery eyed boy. Trenton got up, racing to Walibeld, who gingerly placed Leo’s body on the ground. All across Leo’s body, was hastily drawn stips of gauze with mending clay packed in underneath, blood slowly seeping out.

“I found him under some rubble, slowly bleeding out. He's injured, but he’ll live. We’ll take him with us as we travel. It’s good to have a friend. No one can go it alone. Well, almost no one, at least,” Walibeld shook his head, reaching for Leo. But before Walibeld could grab him, Trenton effortlessly scooped Leo up in arms, holding him close to his chest with newfound purpose glimmering in his eyes. Walibeld retracted his hand, watching him hold Leo close for a moment, before standing. “Come, it’s almost sun down. We’ll make some headway today before stopping to rest for the night,” Walibeld said, beckoning Trenton to follow him away from the city.

“Right…let’s go,” Trenton said, now resolute.