Chapter 10
Aias and Nemea step onto the carriage, shaking it slightly as they do.
A faint metallic smell hangs in the air—Aias' blood seeping from the bandage around his waist.
"Come in sir, sit down and recover!" the voice of that 'humble coachman' welcomes them.
His smile is steady, a small, comforting island after the chaos.
"Alright, Euclid will be taking charge."
"Move when he's put everyone in position." Aias replies, still leaning onto Nemea as she lowers him towards the floor.
Nemea exhales, the beast's breath warm and low, a steady exhale against the carriage timbers.
'step'
'step'
Anastasia walks in, her eyes meet the coachman. "sorry, I didn't listen." she looks at him, still with her swelled tears.
Her voice trembles—the echo of distant shouts still caught in her throat.
"No, no! All that matters is that you aren't hurt lady." His sincere smile seems to cheer her up, "He feels so familiar...," her mind wonders.
A small calm slides through her chest, confusing and welcome, like a nostalgic letter.
The tears stop themselves, her fast beating heart slows down as she continues to walk, later sitting directly in front of Aias.
The carriage rocks once, a tiny aftershock of the battle.
Nemea lays sound, eyes observing her.
The spirit beast's gaze is slow and careful, nostrils flaring as if reading the air around Anastasia.
"Anastasia, do you really not know who you are?" Aias asks.
Her lips part, "No."
The answer draws a pensive shadow across his face.
He swallows, the motion small and brittle.
"The first thing I remember was the cold darkness of the cave."
"Those figures, defiling a human before they defiled me." she continues—her eyes lock onto his, gaze unflinching.
Her words hang like a stain in the carriage silence.
"..." silence replies back, the sounds of men's feet moving outside filling it in.
Boots thump, muffled and urgent, like a second heartbeat around them.
A voice comes from the front of the carriage, the sharp shouldered man converses with the coachman.
"Not yet, I need to inform the commander of some things—wait outside," the sharp shouldered man commands the coachman before he steps inside.
"Girl, get out for a second."
"I need to say something important to the commander, alone." His eyes lock onto Anastasia, she nods and starts to stand up.
"Stay, I permit her to listen." Aias cuts the interaction.
"Wha—?"
He adjusts his throat, eyes going back to Aias—ignoring Anastasia.
"As you wish." the man says, "the scroll was of The Sophist's herd."
He holds out the scroll, it emanates a faint smell of burnt ink from its tear.
"I believe this is connected to the first attack in Logos." he continues, showing the scroll's markings towards Aias.
"As you can see, this sigil is the same as before." He explains, as Aias takes the scroll to inspect it closely.
Anastasia leeches forward, her neck sticking out to see the very scroll she tore up.
Her fingertips itch to touch that torn line she remembers.
"Good work, are the men ready?" Aias asks the man, his hand still holding onto the scroll.
"Yes sir, we should reach Nemea by nightfall." the sharp shouldered man replies.
"Alright, start the departure."
"Head towards the Expedition's Hall first, I need their healers."
"As you wish sir." the sharp shouldered man replies.
"Lead these men like they are yours, Euclid."
"I am grateful." the sharp shouldered man, now known as Euclid bows before stepping out of the carriage.
A loud voice thunders from outside, sounds of metal boots sprinting to their positions, the sound of that friendly coachman getting on could be heard.
Horses snort, a leather strap twangs. The world beyond the carriage is busy and brittle.
Horses neigh from him moving their reins, the wheels turn accompanied by dirt crunching beneath it.
Anastasia's body quivers nervously, "sophist?"
Aias' head turns towards her, "The Sophist is one of the four dark vessels."
"They're targeting people like me."
He pauses for a moment, before continuing.
"People like you."
Cold creeps up from her spine, "people..like us?"
That familiar energy which exudes from Nemea and his lance comes back to her mind, "was that why you asked about my vines?" her voice shakes in confusion.
"Yeah." Aias sighs while saying it.
His hand rests atop Nemea's head,"see this beast here?"
"She is one of the four legendary beasts which had perished a long time ago during a war in Therion."
"Now, she is a spirit beast under my command—my authority as one of the five rulers' blood."
"Your vines are one of those authorities." he explains.
"I–I don't understand what you mean."
"I'm not a ruler." her pupils unable to look at Aias, her eyes glued to the floor instead.
Her shoulder feels a hand touching it, Aias' arm extended towards her.
"Truth is, from the moment I saw you in that dungeon...I felt it." Aias says.
"You had the Daughter of Nature's energy all around you and that ogre's kin."
"Stop." Anastasia's word cuts through his.
"This is for your safety." Aias snaps back.
"So what? I don't even know what's happening!" her voice loudens in distrust.
"That is why I want to explain it to you!" Aias groans as his movements irritate his wound.
"You have the daughter of nature's authority, Anastasia."
"Now that Jonas knows it, you'll be a target!" tone of his voice rises.
The words land heavy, her shoulders droops down—signaling her calming.
"You must've been put in the lairs on purpose."
"I know your previous identity, before I named you Anastasia." Aias continues, his voice trembles slightly, Nemea's eyes darting between the two of them.
Anastasia's eyes widen, her red pupils quiver in anticipation—but she snaps back.
She gazes away, "I am Anastasia."
"Nothing you could say will ever change that." Tears swelling up again as she chokes on her words.
Aias removes his hand from her shoulder, "Alright, I will tell you of what I know about your past..if you allow me to." he says.
The question overstays its welcome, the pause uncomfortable.
"Tell me." Anastasia finally responds.
Aias begins to speak, "you are a descendant from one of the four grand duchies, and so am I."
"My blood is from Therion, the birthplace of The Son Of War and yours are from Anthos, the birthplace of The Daughter Of Nature." he ends his sentence, gulping down his spit as if he is hesitant in continuing.
His words seemingly connect in her memories, her shoulders perking up.
"What are they?" she asks.
"They are this land's father's childrens." he explains, "there are four of them, The Daughters; Nature and Law as well as the Sons; Scholar and war."
"Our blood were blessed by those deities, our ancestors were rulers of the four territories, Anthos, Therion, Logos and Pagoniá."
"Siblings.." she mutters.
"Do you know about 'conflict'?" the sentence paints an unnerved look on Aias' face.
"How did you know about him?!" Aias lurches forward, ignoring the pain from his lower back—smell of copper drips onto the wooden floor.
Anastasia nervously scoots backwards, "I–I met him!" she replies.
"Before he sent me to the dungeon.." her voice fades slowly as Aias calms down.
"You are lucky you're still alive." he says to her, his voice in seriousness.
"Conflict is a vessel, the same as The Sophist."
"Their goal is to devour the living, send the continent back towards corruption."
Aias finishes explaining, Anastasia's mouth eager to share.
"He said things.. about me." she says
"His sister bloomed me."
Aias exhales with relief, "that just means your powers had awakened."
"Your vines, and your soul's flower are one of Nature's authority."
"As for 'sister', I will get back to you on that." Aias replies.
The light outside shines brighter, morning had turned to noon.
"Once we've reached the Nemean residence, I will allow you to scour it's library." Aias talks while slowly leaning back on the laying Nemea. "But if there is anything you want to know now, shoot."
"My home, I want to know about my home." she replies.
Aias looks away from her for a moment, "There are some Anthians here with us, they're the heavy armoured ones in the rear."
"Anthians are the most skilled people in the empire. In fact, the coachman Hanes was the Napaean residence' coachman."
Both Aias and Anastasia turns towards Hanes, who is unaware of their talk.
"Napaean?" she asks.
"It's your previous home." Aias replies in coldness, disdain emanates from his voice.
"You should ask Hanes about it."
"After Evius rose as the grand duke, the working staffs of the Napaean Residence were fired and replaced."
"Evius.." she mutters, her breath hitches the same rhythm as when Jonas confronted her.
Aias' voice interrupts, "And after that, your previous identity went missing."
Her lips quiver, her hands try to move but her body was frozen in a sensation unsettling to her.
"Stop!" she pleads in her mind, tears fall from her eyes.
"I don't want to feel this!" her unheard plead rings in her mind as Aias opens his mouth.
"Thaleia Napaea."