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MA: 104. A Herald Visits
🕑 Added 2025-06-18 17:41:30 +0000 UTCFour consecutive knocks stirred the guards awake.
It had arrived from the iron portcullis of Aire’s southern gate. Normally, the off-duty guards and the supervising Captain would fall asleep to claws clashing with steel. But tonight, those knocks caused a surge of hurried movement beyond their barracks.
“Sir! We have a visitor!”
“At this time?”
The Captain overseeing Aire’s southern gate was already putting on his armor. Once he had finished, he quickly followed the five men who had come to alert him.
“Did you see what they were wearing?”
“C-Captain? I’m sure you’re more bothered by the fact that a person managed to survive–!”
“I ask again. Did you see what they were wearing?”
The young guard’s reaction was the most appropriate in this situation. It was the Captain’s whose question was strange. This, however, was a showcase of the Captain’s experience.
He had been guarding the southern gate for thirteen years now. A mere person appearing at the gate was considered a low-risk abnormality, for he had seen stranger things. The guards looked at each other and collectively agreed to have one person answer.
“Light blue robes. A giant blade. Didn’t look human. Do you know what it is?”
The question was innocent enough. The fact that they asked meant that they obviously didn’t know what this apparel signified.
The air around the Captain however immediately changed. His eyes fractionally widened, and his grip on his blade became so tight that he lost sensation on the tips of his fingers.
“C-Captain–?
“–Silence. Immediately. Eyes to the ground. Do not look up until it passes.”
His men did precisely as they were ordered. Though it came across as more of a warning than an order.
Those who remained on the battlements and indoors were also aware of what exactly had arrived, hence why they didn’t make a ruckus like they did in the middle of the night.
“Open the gates.” He ordered.
His heavy steps stopped at the fourth portcullis, and through the grates he was silently greeted by a gruesome scene. Hordes of monsters that would have roamed the night laid scattered picturesque across the farmlands.
Entrails, tendons, flesh, bone– they were organized into neat piles, ready to be collected by morning. There wasn’t a single blemish on the monster skins from what the Captain could tell.
They had been perfectly butchered. He couldn’t imagine how it was possible when this entity would have been swarmed by nearly a hundred.
“’The gates shall open thirty-eight seconds after I draw my seven thousandth eight hundred and twenty second breath.’”
The entity – human-like and glowing beautifully beneath the moonlight – recited predetermined lines, as though he had memorized a script. The figure was no taller than the shortest guard in the Captain’s brigade, and yet, his presence utterly consumed him.
The being’s eyes did not open to acknowledge him. Still, the Captain knew this thing was aware of everything around it.
Otherwise, why would he speak?
The gates finally opened, revealing the being in all his glory.
“Captain, a pleasure to greet you on this fine evening.” The man spoke in an airy tone, as though he was not of this world.
Beautiful long, off grey eyelashes flickered; eyes opening to reveal a pair of light blue eyes. It complimented his short grey hair. In a certain lighting, he would pass for a Healer, though Healers were only women.
He wore a dark blue two-piece suit, which was covered by a pale-white robe that also served as a mantle.
The mantle carried a sapphire insignia depicting a human being puppeted by strings.
The Captain did not breathe.
That insignia belonged to an Atelier.
“Likewise… Herald.”
A Herald of Act X.
The fabled creators of the magical ‘Strings’, as well as ‘Cloth’.
The suit he wore hadn’t a single drop of blood, let alone a scratch. This was because his suit was made of a high-quality Cloth, which was easily superior to traditional metal armor.
One swing of his great sword, which was almost as large at himself, could easily rip steal like a scissor through paper.
That white sword was two blades put into one. If needed, it could be used like a scissor or be dual wielded.
“Indeed. As per my Script requests, I must ask if it is fine for me to take my first step into Aire.” The man asked, though the Captain knew it was not a question.
“Do as you must. No one will stop you…”
“That satisfies the criteria of ‘let a prominent figure allow you to access Aire’.”
He moved. Slow, with every step considered, and every breath accounted for. It was not until he entered the light of Aire that the Captain noticed that he was not even human at all.
An Automaton? No, a Construct. Ball joints. I see seams joining the corners of his lips to his chin.
“Close the gates. Let the Green Rangers know that a Herald has arrived.”
“Captain. What do we do about…?” A guard who was familiar with what a Herald’s entailed gestured vaguely.
They turned to watch the Herald knock at a door. A woman peered her head out with a child in her arms. She smiled happily at the sight of the Herald, but that soon soured into despair when the emotionless man gave her a blue-glowing parchment of paper.
This was a Script.
“We will ask receivers of the Script their Commandments and aid wherever possible. However, if it harms Aire, then it will be more humaine to put them down.” The Captain wore a grim expression, but this was the reality for those who followed the Scripts.
The Scripts were granted to those who entrusted their safety to Act X. It was said that followers of the Script could even walk through Emvita during the First and Second Night and come out unscathed.
But the cost of this was to follow every and any written Commandment, no matter how cruel, how barbaric, or even if it would result in one’s death.
“Get men to dig graves tomorrow. A Herald’s visit is always a bad omen. We can count ourselves lucky that it was not a Wandering Healer that had come to visit.”
“Understood, Captain.”
*
The Herald entered an unlocked estate. He had managed to pass through the mess left behind a smoldering campfire despite his eyes remaining sealed. He moved through the wooden estate, slowly, and with faint steps just loud enough to not disturb the house, but enough to alert the person he arrived for with his presence.
His attention never shifted to the objects that would normally draw a visitor or a thief’s eye. The Herald had only one objective, as ordained by his personal Script.
It took him up a set of stairs, through various hallways, past a curtain, and towards an open balcony where an old woman waited.
“You’re early.” Elda commented, somewhat amused.
She sat on a flimsy chair beside a worn table where two cups of hot tea steamed.
“Won’t you sit?”
“I have not been ordered to sit.” He politely declined.
“But having no order does not exclude you from committing that action.”
Elda treated the Herald differently to the guards. There was a tone of familiarity, despite this being the first time they had met. She merely knew that she would be visited by a Herald; a type of foresight that left the Herald speechless for but a moment.
“… Perhaps. Miss.”
“Ma’am to you, Harold.”
“Ma’am. You’re really old. Why did you take the Script?” He was blunt, and he did not want to stall this out.
But the question came across as strange to Elda.
“Because I simply wished that the children of my home would continue to prosper. The wish of an old soul.”
The Herald did not respond.
He swiftly reached into his suit and produced a Script for Elda.
The old woman took one glance at it, then, she closed her eyes and took a sip of tea.
“Will you not read it?”
“I have seen all that I need to.”
“But…”
“Child. Aren’t you too worried for someone far too old? I may die tomorrow, and it would not affect you.”
Elda was far inferior compared to the Herald. Yet, she controlled the flow of the conversation. He gazed into her eyes, and he saw a well of unfathomable wisdom. Red eyes were uncommon in the world of Elysia and were often alluded to possessing great power.
Hence, why were they highly sought after.
And likely why Elda was allowed to live in relative luxury, despite not originating from Aire.
The Herald was stumped again.
“No, I’ve just never seen anyone refuse a Script.”
“I did not refuse it. I’ve merely seen what I need to. These eyes of mine are gift, after all.” Elda’s eyes trailed elsewhere.
She spotted a pair of red eyes in the dark.
