Pathless: Outcast

Cintra, 3rd of Harvestide, year 305 UC

Bryan froze, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. The building that had been his home, the place where he had known both cruelty and kindness, was gone. Completely erased, as if it had never existed.

"No..."

The word escaped his lips in a whisper, barely audible.

"No, no, no!"

His voice rose, cracking with emotion as he stumbled forward. His legs gave way, and he fell to his knees on the scorched ground.

This had to be a dream.

This couldn't be true. Everything was gone, nothing remained. How? Why? When?

Emilia caught up to him, her own eyes widening at the devastation before them. She stood behind Bryan, her hand hovering uncertainly over his shoulder. She wanted to comfort him, to say something, anything that might ease his pain.

But the words wouldn't come. She hesitated, unsure of how to handle this moment.

"Ms. Kelly?"

Bryan called out.

"Ms. Kelly, where are you?"

Tears began to stream down his pale cheeks as the reality of the situation sank in.

Ms. Kelly wasn't here. She would never be here again.

Emilia's heart ached as she watched Bryan break down.

It stirred something within her, a protective instinct she didn't know she possessed. Yet still, she hesitated. What could she possibly say to make this better?

As she grappled with her own uncertainty, a voice spoke from behind them.

"Tragic, isn't it?"

Emilia whirled around, her hand instinctively moving to the hilt of her sword. She didn't sense anyone approaching, and that was odd. An older woman stood there, her gray hair tied back in a neat bun. In her hands, she held a bouquet of flowers.

"What do you mean?"

Emilia asked.

She wanted to ask who this woman was, but after she scanned the woman she noticed that the older lady was not an awakened. She was normal but that didn't mean she could drop her guard.

The woman's eyes, filled with a deep sadness, moved from Emilia to Bryan, then back to the charred remains of the orphanage.

"The orphanage."

She said softly, moving past them to place the flowers on the scorched ground.

"So many children, locked inside as it burned. We could do nothing but watch."

Emilia's blood ran cold at the woman's words.

"Defeaning screams as they tried to escape but were burned to ash."

The lady said as she looked at the blackened earth with her head low.

Emilia didn't need that picture in her head. No one should have witnessed such a scene.

Children Bryan's age, some older, some younger all helpless to do anything but watch one another burn. To suffocate on the smoke.

Her mind went back to the times she entered the orphanage, but they didn't have anything there capable of starting a fire this deadly. But, the older woman said they were locked inside.

This wasn't an accident, someone did this.

"Who did this?"

She demanded.

The old woman shook her head. Her eyes looked lifeless, as if her soul had been sucked from her body and all that remained was once what.

"I don't know. They wore masks. They came in the night, and torched the place. No one was allowed to leave."

Emilia's eyes narrowed.

'The Inquisition? No, it can't be. That's too fast.'

But even as she thought it, a sinking feeling in her gut told her it was true.

They were known to raze anything they deemed unredeemable to the ground. To get rid of any mage that went rogue and was too dangerous to be left alone.

The orphanage was a place that fostered children, and they didn't have any rouge mages she knew of. Not any that would pose a threat.

It was far from a target they'd set their sights on.

"When did this happen?"

Emilia asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Three days ago."

The woman replied, her gaze distant.

"They say it's retribution for those who have sinned."

Emilia's heart skipped a beat.

Retribution.

The act of inflicting punishment on someone for a criminal act or for vengeance.

It was them. But how had they moved so quickly?

She looked down at Bryan, still kneeling on the ground, his small frame shaking with silent sobs. They needed to leave. Now.

"Bryan."

She said.

"We need to go."

Reaching down, she grasped his arm to help him up. As she did, the old woman spoke again, her voice taking on an eerie, almost prophetic tone.

"You can't run. You can't hide. The truth shall be revealed, and all sinners will be punished. It is their will. It has been decreed."

Emilia felt a chill run down her spine.

This was bad. The inquisition made their move, and she didn't even know about it till now.

They never left a job unfinished and would pursue their target to the ends of the world if need be.

How they managed to connect the orphanage to Bryan, or if they did she was unsure of. But, she didn't want to stick around to find out.

Three days ago. That's when they culled the nest that bred the being that sinned. The one who went against the natural order of things.

It had to be gone, lest more people that have similar ideals emerge.

Emilia knew that was how they worked. No one, including family, friends, and associates, would be left standing when they were done. But, they wouldn't have left the city so soon.

The Inquisition was still here.

Without another word, she guided Bryan away from the scene, her steps quick and purposeful.

As they walked, Bryan remained silent, his eyes fixed on the ground.

She should have known better, to come back here. No matter how good this could have been for Bryan, it was too dangerous. And now, they were in a city that was bound to have a few inquisitors present.

The worst part?

She had no clue what they looked like.

That was the point she knew, to have them blend in with society. Build connections, work normal jobs, and seem like an ordinary person. All while they investigated the most serious crimes and hunted the vile filth of the kingdom.

Anyone they walked by could have been one.

'But who?'

Lost in her thoughts, Emilia didn't notice the figure approaching until it was too late. They collided, the impact causing Bryan to stumble. His hood fell back, revealing his white hair and crimson eyes.

A sharp gasp cut through the air.

"You!"

Emilia looked up to see an older woman, her face a mask of shock and anger. Bryan's eyes widened in recognition.

"Ms. Bertha?"

He whispered, his voice trembling.

Ms. Bertha's face contorted with rage and fear.

"This is all your fault!"

She spat, her words dripping with venom.

"I knew you were a cursed child, one that would doom us all. I told Kelly, but she wouldn't listen. Now everyone's dead, and it's all because of you!"

Bryan flinched as if he'd been struck, each word hitting him like a physical blow. Tears welled up in his eyes once more as the weight of Ms. Bertha's accusation settled on his small shoulders.

"I-I-I…"

Bryan stuttered as he couldn't make a sentence.

What could he say? She was right.

This was his fault.

Everyone was dead, and it was all because of him.

Emilia felt a surge of anger course through her. Without thinking, she drew her sword, the blade flashing in the dim light as she brought it to Ms. Bertha's throat. A thin line of blood appeared where the edge touched the woman's skin.

"How dare you!"

Emilia hissed.

She was tired of this, and after tonight she wasn't planning on taking much more. Why was everything to be blamed on a child?

When would the responsibility fall on the adults?

"How dare you say such things to a child. If everyone else is dead, you should be ashamed to be alive."

Ms. Bertha's eyes widened in fear, but she didn't back down.

"You don't understand."

She insisted, her voice quivering.

"He's not natural. He's-"

"Enough!"

Emilia's voice cracked like a whip, silencing the woman.

"You will never speak to him again. You will never come near him again. If I so much as hear a whisper that you've been asking about him, I will find you. And you will wish I hadn't. Do you understand?"

Ms. Bertha nodded frantically, her earlier bravado crumbling in the face of Emilia's threat. Emilia lowered her sword, her gaze still hard as steel.

"Leave. Now."

She watched as Ms. Bertha scurried away, disappearing into the shadows of the street. Only then did she turn back to Bryan, her anger fading as she took in his shell-shocked expression.

"Bryan?"

She called his name but he wasn't listening to her.

Kneeling down to his level she lifted his chin a little.

"Bryan, look at me. What she said isn't true. None of this is your fault. Do you understand?"

Bryan didn't respond, his gaze dropping back to the ground. Emilia sighed, realizing that words alone wouldn't be enough to undo the damage Ms. Bertha's accusations had caused.

She should have gutted the woman where she stood.

But what would that do to Bryan? She didn't want to murder someone in front of him over some words.

"Come on."

She said gently, taking his hand.

"Let's go home."

As they made their way back to the train station, Emilia's mind whirled with everything that had happened.

She glanced down at Bryan, walking silently beside her, his small hand clutched tightly in hers. She had brought him here hoping to provide closure, to help him move forward. Instead, she feared she had only opened old wounds and created new ones.

The train ride back to Cirrugur was silent. Bryan sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, staring out the window without really seeing the passing landscape. Emilia watched him, feeling a growing sense of helplessness. She had never been good with emotions or with offering comfort. But now, seeing Bryan withdraw into himself, she knew she had to try.

"Bryan."

She said softly, breaking the silence.

"I know today was... difficult. But I want you to know that you're safe now. No one is going to hurt you."

Bryan didn't respond, didn't even look at her. Emilia sighed, running a hand through her obsidian hair.

"What Ms. Bertha said... she was wrong. You're not cursed, Bryan. You're special. And sometimes, people fear what they don't understand."

She paused, searching for the right words.

"I know it's hard to believe right now, but none of this is your fault. The people who did this – they're the ones to blame. Not you."

Finally, Bryan turned to look at her. His red eyes were filled with a pain that seemed too deep, too profound for someone so young.

"But what if she's right?"

He whispered, his voice barely audible over the rumble of the train.

"What if I am cursed? Everyone around me gets hurt. Ms. Kelly, the other kids at the orphanage... maybe it would be better if-"

"No!"

Emilia cut him off.

"Don't even think that. You are not responsible for the actions of others. You didn't cause this, Bryan. You're a victim, just like the others."

She reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing her hand on his shoulder.

"I know it hurts. I know it feels like everything is falling apart. But you're not alone. You have me, and Edward, and... well, even Lucas, I suppose."

The ghost of a smile flickered across Bryan's face at the mention of Lucas, but it faded quickly.

"I just... I don't know what to do,"

He admitted, his voice small and lost.

Emilia squeezed his shoulder gently.

"You don't have to know right now. All you need to do is keep going. One day at a time. And we'll be there with you, every step of the way."

As the train sped through the night, carrying them back to Cirrugur, Emilia found herself making a silent promise. She would protect this child, this strange, wonderful boy who had been thrust into her life. She would keep him safe, teach him, guide him. And maybe, just maybe, in doing so, she could find a way to heal her own wounds as well.

Bryan leaned against her, his small body finally relaxing as exhaustion overtook him. Emilia wrapped an arm around him, holding him close as he drifted off to sleep. As she watched the moonlit landscape rush by outside the window, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. The Inquisition was moving, faster and more ruthlessly than she had anticipated. They would need to be careful, vigilant.

Lucas was right.

There was no way she'd be able to protect him forever. That changed now.

Bryan could hate her all he wanted, but he had to be stronger. Much stronger so he could protect himself when she wasn't there.

And for that to happen she had to throw him in the deep end.

She closed her eyes for a moment, but in that split second, she could see the faint image of her father smiling. Something he rarely ever did.

'What's the use of having a blade if it's dull? No matter how expensive it is, how decorative the sheath and hilt are, it's still worthless. A true blade, is one you forge with the blood of your enemies.'