Becoming Legend

Two men stood in an elevated platform. Behind them was tightly sealed door brimming with yellow lights; before them was a set of cylindrical glass filled with a green liquid of some sort, divided by iron railings.

This cylindrical glass lined the edges of the dark and damp rectangular chamber. This room had no window and was filled with these cylindrical glasses as if it was hidden from the outside.

Inside these glasses was a spherical lump of meat—obscured by green murky liquid.

The two men studied these glasses with careful eyes. Aside from the taller man with a pair of glasses, they both wore black fitting pants and high cut boots, and a black jacket—that were perfectly cut to fit.

The shorter man gave a piece of folded paper to the man beside him. Both their faces were obscured with darkness from the room. Sometimes, green light flickered into the mysterious square face of the shorter man.

"Lord Ferel," the shorter man said. Handing the paper, clipped between his fingers.

The taller man fingered his dark hair, adjusted the spectacles with his index finger, and fixed his hands behind his waist as he went to gaze back at the cylindrical glasses as if it was the only thing he cared about. "Read it, Blath," Ferel said tightly.

"Yes, Lord," Blath said, opening the piece of paper with a hint of controlled excitement.

Moments of silence as Blath read the piece of paper. His excitement can't be contained with his trembling hands. "Park Han Fu" he said. Folding the paper and tucking it back into his side pocket. "First Wing's Master Initiator succeeded in deploying the Gate."

Ferel looked at Blath grinning with surprise. "Make sure the Zolin Emperor doesn't know about this," he said. Smiling. "Any other else, vice lord?"

Blath kept silent for a moment. He fiddled with his hair, a thing he always does when he felt uneasy. "We haven't heard of our Master Spy," he said. Biting the bottom of his lips. "We sent them together with our Dark Mage."

"Ah," Feler said under his breath. "Edwin. The spy to Griffith. Of all the squad captain, he's the only one to achieve this feat. But it doesn't matter anymore, his purpose has been served. But if he turned against us. Find him, make sure he's... taken care of."

"But, my Lord," Blath said trying to fight for someone. "Master Spy Edwin helped us with a lot of things, surely we can't just... forget about that."

Holding the iron railings and leaning forward to examine the cylindrical glasses. "Of course, he helped us spy the Griffith Kingdom," he said. "Which—until now—we haven't got an exact idea of their plans. All he told us, were the Balls of their Houses. What do I do with it? dance with the Griffith's? Now I'm thinking, was he a spy to Griffith, or a spy for Griffith." Stressing the word for, to imply something.

"Without him my Lord," Blath said. Arguing even though it's pointless to Ferel. "We wouldn't know the Kingdom's movements. He even helped us harvest these cores." Pointing at the cylindrical glasses.

Some of the spherical lumps of meat pounded faintly to the point of unnoticeable. But not to Ferel.

"Sure he did," Ferel said, smiling as he saw the core beat faintly. "Tell me Blath, what's the Genesys' goal for the last thousand years?"

"My Lord, we all knew what it was," Blath said. Seemed confused. "What's that got to do with Edwin?"

White light discharged off Ferel's shoulder.

"My Lord," Blath said the moment he saw the light from Ferel. "Genesys' goal was to collect the Marks scattered across continents. And our goal was to make sure it happens and at the same time to ensure the balance that was tipping off."

"You see," Ferel said, retracting the light from his body. "Overlord made me the leader of the First Genesys, simple because I'm competent. And that was what Edwin doesn't have. Competence. And it seems that Edwin had a plan of his own. He got the chance, but he never told us that he found the stolen Mark. Now that, my vice, is incompetence. What will the Overlord think about our Genesys?"

Blath paused. For him, Edwin was something that he looked up to. Without his rare ability, it would be Edwin who held the position as Vice Lord of the First Genesys. For Blath, it's strange that Edwin would hold information against the Order.

Blath shook his head. "No," He muttered. "That's something Edwin wouldn't do, unless—my Lord! I don't think—"

The air whistled and Blath was thrown meters away from Ferel. Cracks formed not on the wall, but on Blath's selected ribs. A piece of bone cut the black jacket he wore. He tasted blood.

A translucent white figure holding a shield—with Blath's blood dripping—and a lance floated beside Ferel. Its head was cased inside a helmet rigged with iron acting as horn—twisted like that of a ram.

The ghostly figure's eye blazed red. It raised its lance, and with Ferel's finger tap. The ghostly knight charged at the pinned Blath.

Before Blath fell on the ground, the iron lance pierced his chest. He spouts a mouthful of blood as the knight raised him midair. Rammed him once more on the wall behind him. The wall cracked; Blath's flesh torn.

With Ferel's finger tap, the ghostly knight perished. Blath thudded on the ground—half-conscious. The iron lance bore a hole in his chest, it was deep that the green light from the cylindrical glasses could be seen vividly.

Without blinking an eye; not even a gaze, Ferel smirked. "Know your place, Blath," he said. Adjusting the sleeve of his jacket that covered a strange light under his wrist. "It seemed you cared a lot about him, I'll give you this, if it was proven that Edwin turned his skin against us, I will personally gut him. A hundred times the pain you felt now. If not, then, it saves us time to look for another Master Spy."

Blath needed time to conjure his magic. Magic so rare; he was turned to a lump of mincemeat by Ferel. "Thank you," Blath said, forcing the words as the blood seeped off the gaps of his teeth and as the blood seeped off the gaping hole.

Moments passed, Blath stood with shaking legs, as the blood kept on dropping his chest, he muttered some words, gestured his hand and white light overwhelmed his body. The bone that pierced his jacket slowly made its way, back inside his ribs. The flesh in his chest quivered. The bones that were destroyed; grew to its original form. Given time, the bone and the flesh and Blath's chest healed completely. His jacket still bore the hole, some parts were tattered. The blood remained in his mouth as he wiped it with his arms.

"Light magic," Feral said, shaking his head. "How I wish I had it, with the right use, I could be the Genesys' Lord Emperor."

"And how I wish I had your spirit," Blath said. Walking next to Ferel as if nothing had happened. "Forgive me earlier, my Lord. I was... Taken by my emotions." He leaned his hand near his chest and bowed. "Command me Lord Ferel. Should we pursue the one with the Mark or the Gate?"

"Forgive me as well, my Blath," Ferel said. Clutching Blath's shoulder. "Assemble a team and go inside the Gate, his Core might be there, if not, find a clue as to where it was. That's our main goal. As for the Mark, let me handle it, he's too old now to use the Mark at its potential."

Blath bowed. Ferel's gesture made him felt that he relied on him. "And what about those?" Diverting his gaze towards the cylindrical glasses.

"We'll let Tanika and Bavham handle this," Ferel remarked. "The Gate will be our priority, that's why I gave the task to you. Master Investigator Sjur is currently doing his research about cores in one of the top Academy in the Griffith Kingdom. His last message said that there's a lot of promising recruits the Academy gathered. We might need them to enhance these cores."

"Yes, Lord Ferel," Blath noted. "Speaking of recruit. Our Master Spy is missing; Master Initiator Park Han Fu is nowhere to be found, and we needed more people to move these cores. And I have doubts about how Master Gatherer Bavul will handle all these."

"Don't worry about him. Bavul needed us, so he's got no other choice but to do his task."

Ferel and Blath talked more about their plans and were halted by a counted knock behind them. "Come in," Blath said in a rounded voice.

The sealed door hissed, mist entered and one of their crew stood unmoving. Wearing a black uniform with an array of buttons from top to bottom. The soldier wore an intimidating hat, that stuck along with his face covered with black masks. He stretched his hand at a slightly awkward angle, tapped the sole of his boots. "Lord Ferel!" He cried. "The Emperor wishes an audience with you!"

Lord Ferel gestured to dismiss the enthusiastic soldier. The soldier marched and shut the heavy door.

"It has started," Blath said, a little bit enthusiastic and felt awkward remembering the posture of the soldier.

"Indeed it has," Ferel said, motioning Blath to dismiss.

Blath bowed deeply. Faced the magic imbued door and gestured, transferring some of his mana to the door.

"Wait."

"Yes, my Lord?" Blath interrupted his mana.

"No more failure," Ferel said. "Once you reach the Gate, seal it from inside. Once your there, remember your goal. Find his Core."

Blath hesitated before speaking. "Are They," he muttered, gazing the floor and not Ferel's deep eyes. "I mean, is He really gonna come back?"

"Ah, Blath," Ferel said with a long breath. "Our Overlord alone proves that They exist. Last they were seen was almost a thousand years. And I'm doing this, not for me, not for the Order—especially not for the Overlord. But for the sake of all races. Even if it means harvesting half the population's cores."

Blath clipped his left hand on his waist. Stretched and raised his right at an awkward angle, spanned the sole of his boots, and cried. "Hail the Death Maker!"