Voices From a Distant Land, Part 2
The singular name lent an ominous cast to its stony features. It soared into the sky and kept soaring, without an obvious pinnacle. Kyle eyed the massive wooden doors of the edifice with trepidation.
The Borderlands Guard Commander stopped at the closed doors. "This is where we part for now."
"Why? Can't you come with me?" Nervously, the cadet wiped his hands on the skirt of his leather armor.
"I'm not the one hearing voices, son," replied the Commander, not unkindly. "This is what you must do. It's standard for any of the Guard with your problem. You have to travel to the main landing and look at yourself in a mirror."
"I have to what now? Look in a mirror? Why? Will it make the voices go away?"
The Commander scratched his nose. "If you want them to. It's a decision point for you. It's possible depending on what you see, the voices will stop and then if that's the case, I welcome you back with open arms. If not..."
Kyle waited for the sentence to finish. When it didn't, he prompted, "If not?"
"It's not something I can know about. Or tell you," he answered evasively. "It's different for each person here. You have to discover your own truths, Kyle. Even if you don't like what you find."
It didn't exactly fill him with confidence. But it was the truth. "Thank you, sir." Fist to heart, he saluted. "I hope to return soon to the Guard."
For a long moment, the Commander said nothing, merely looking at him. Then, "I think you will. One way or the other. It'll work out. Now, go inside this Tower, Kyle."
"Sir." His hand only trembled a little as Kyle opened the double doors of the Tower and walked inside. The doors shut heavily behind him.
It seemed innocent enough on the inside. Pale gray stone created the walls of the Tower. A marble stairway went up. Torches lined the walls for light. No other decoration adorned the stark walls.
"He said I have to find a mirror," Kyle murmured, his footsteps echoing on the stairs.
I do not know who you are, but thank you for everything you have done to protect Budehuc.
Well, to be fair, he didn't know who this voice was either. In fact, he didn't know any of the voices, but just hearing them sent thrills of anxiety fluttering in his stomach. Why? Was this about discovering his own truths?
Damn, Kyle. ...You never were one to give any less than your absolute all.
"Who -are- you?" Kyle asked the silence of the Tower. He almost remembered who that voice was. Flight after flight revealed nothing. Nothing but another landing, more torches and another flight of steps.
...sorry about the armor...I won't blame you if you're mad at me when you come to...but they want to see a smile, so try not to think too much about it.
The armor? His hand fingered the wing emblem on his chest. His armor was right here.
You were brave, sir knight. I wish I could have fought as you did.
I will keep your damaged armor and attempt to get it repaired for you. I have the potch. It's fine armor, you will need it again someday.
Again with his armor! Who kept plaguing him with these weird thoughts?
Abruptly, Kyle found himself at an actual floor of one immense room. A mosaic of heartbreaking beauty covered the far wall. A winged creature tiled in midnight blues and blacks reached out with a grey hand. The figure's feet started somewhere at the ceiling at, lost in the darkness above and the body and hand reached down.
Reaching up was a figure clad in the green of the Borderlands Guard. The androgynous figure reached up, possibly to pull the grey figure to safety. The Guard looked kind. And between their gripped hands, a mirror shone, reflecting the light of torches next to it.
Kyle's anxiety lessened slightly. It didn't seem sinister or strange. Nothing else existed in the huge space but the mosaic, the mirror and a narrow stairway leading to a dais cut into the wall.
Rest well, my friend. You did everyone proud.
To be frank, that's what Kyle really wanted to do. To rest and forget whatever plagued him. But that voice...he almost knew the name it belonged to. Slowly, the cadet walked up the narrow stairway and looked into the face of the mirror.
His reflection looked back him: clean and green and proud in his training greens with a military haircut. Mindful of his Commander's instructions, he tried to peer more into the mirror, placing his hand against its smooth surface.
Abruptly, his reflection changed and made him swear aloud. It was him...only vastly different. He looked back with ashen skin and blood running free down his chin. Long blond hair lay limp against his shoulders His armor turned black and gold with huge cracks to its surface. On the arm guards, huge burn marks scorched the armor.
"What the hell is this?!" Kyle demanded of the empty room. Then he got an answer. A voice. An awful, awful voice.
....hahahaha....
"N-no..."
...hehehehe....
"NO!"
HOHOHEHEHAHAHA!
Kyle screamed shrilly as he realized what he'd tried so hard to forget. Inside the mirror, the horrific sword of Luca Blight cut a swath in his squad and they all...fell...down...
Oh no. Oh gods no. Kyle fell to his knees, paralyzed with fear. Nononononono. He remembered now. He didn't want to go back. He didn't want to go back to that awful place where Luca Blight had won.
For what else could have possibly happened when Luca had killed them all? Surely that's what happened? And yet, why the voices? He didn't know some of them. Had a few lucky souls managed to escape the carnage?
Arms wrapped tightly around his chest, Kyle trembled. All dead. All alone. Was that his truth?
"Someone...please." Kyle's voice sounded so small. "Please someone tell me! Why did he win?" Tilting back his head, he howled, the names coming quick on his tongue. "FERID! GEORG! Please tell me why! G-Geddoe?" But Geddoe had to be dead. "Saileeds? Prince? C-Camus? Someone? Oh gods, someone tell me!" Tears fell fast from his eyes. "Someone please tell me..."