Tales of Alidaire: The Return

To set the stage, some background music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XR0c6p01xXA (Listen to it as you read. ^ ^)

"I...I just want to go home....," Ryomi said, a frown on his tearstained face. "The trials a normal person goes through here is unreal. I...I'm weak. My...heart can't take it anymore."

The assassin rose from his spot on the isolated rock at the campsite. "Enough of this," he spoke tersely with slight reprimand. "We all are here to help you." He held his arms out to encompass the entire group. Aria smiled and gave Ryomi a thumb's up. The comforting glances of Luna and Nocturne fell upon him. His sister's arm around his shoulder made him cry harder, but a smile was upon his face, nevertheless. "We're here for you. By your side, for eternity. We will help you find your way home. Though some of us are forced to live in a world of tribulation, while others of us may not even have a home to go back to, we will at least see to it that you make it home."

This world is too much for us. Though it yields to us its abundance, we shun it. He did the same, though he shunned the boredom--the routine monotony of life. And then he was cast away into a different world, just as he had always wished. And to make it better, his sister was pulled along for the ride. However, Ryomi Nakashi will learn that though you may yearn for some excitement in life, sometimes, the routine is the best way to go.

They were surrounded. Hopeless. What could these things possibly be? The bivalve appearance and threatening red eye glaring at him with malice emphasized a wrath lost in the sands of time. Ryomi fell to his knees glancing at the ring upon his finger.

"Brother! What are you doing?! This isn't the time for losing hope!" Cyan screamed. The things were drawing nearer and nearer. A frozen tear fell down her cheek.

From out of nowhere, a lance pierced one of the monsters causing it to shriek in agony. Its body squirmed and convulsed before disappearing in a cloud of strange, dark blue particles that floated aimlessly into the sky. Clanging armor echoed through the deathly silent air as the monsters turned their attention behind them. There was a person there now; Ryomi could see. Elegant mail, gauntlets, leggings increased the prestige of this figure and the helm was a pinnacle of hope. All of it was a light purple and a white cape fluttered gently in the freezing breeze. A radiant symbol of a yellow crescent moon graced the front of the figure's mail and Ryomi seeked solace in it. It was as if the moon had sent its own envoy to rescue them.

It was then that the figure spoke. "The young lady speaks the truth. There is never a time to lose hope except when you come face to face with your creator. And even then, you must at least act as though hope still fills your heart lest you wish to be lost forever."

Alidaire. A world of tribulation. There is too much conflict to count and the myriad monsters that plague the land do not ease the tension. In this desperate and ravaged land, friends are the most important thing. Keep them close. Never let them go. Your goal is their goal.

And they will always be there for you.

"Your time is UP!" the Amethyst shouted, raising his greatsword into the air. Ryomi cringed on the floor below, his back to the wall. There was no escape.

"Hold it right there, mister!" Lyra shouted and pointed accusingly at the enemy. "You might be hopeless, but this boy has a home to go to. And a family. And a life." Her hands clenched into fists and she looked down at the ground. But when she looked back up, there was a frightening fire of determination lighting the window to her soul ablaze.

Ryomi realized that she wouldn't back down; he had to do something. He stood up quickly and flipped over Amethyst, barely landing on his feet about halfway between Lyra and Amethyst. With immense focus, he drew his mana to the Ring of Aptitude which allowed him to summon the Standard Sword. Its dull silver color hardly radiated power and the worn handle made using it harder, but Ryomi had to protect Lyra at all costs. He felt his mana draining, but he wouldn't let it go. Could he even swing the sword?

A flash of dull purple appeared before him, and just as he was about to be struck down by Amethyst's greatsword, Lyra jumped between him and the mighty weapon. Drops of blood soared through the air and the bleeding body of the witch lay on the floor, her crimson essence flowing across the stone. She looked up at Ryomi pleadingly. "Please go now, fool. Your story isn't over yet."

And what constitutes a home as a home? Do the experiences of our lives shape what our true home is? Our home is where our heart is, is it not? And does the allegiance of our hearts not change during the course of our lifetimes? Will we always be guaranteed a home? Will efforts in searching for a home better than the ones we have always come to fruition? And will we learn more about ourselves along the journey?

Hope. What drives us when all is lost?

Passion. Love makes us do crazy things.

Loyalty. When we say we will follow, we will follow. To the ends of the world and beyond. There is nowhere I won't go, as long as I go with you.

Expression. Are words really the only way to communicate? Listen with your eyes for once and see with your ears. Let the images guide you, for what you see is mostly a lie.

Longing. Reminisce, but don't let it carry you away. Holding on to yearning can dearly damage the heart. Why tease it with something that may not exist?

Solitude. When we are alone, we think profound thoughts. Amazing how human contact changes one for the better despite their stupidity.

We all do things. We all wish. When wishes come true, more often than not, do we not wish for things...

...to return to normal?

~Tales of Alidaire: The Return~

Coming soon....

A story by Masquerade.

~Prelude~

It seemed like so long ago that the disaster happened.

The small town of Lorenton was nestled in the expansive plains in the western country. The tendrils of technology and civilization had relented in their expansion and left the area to peace. It is here in this small town that Ryomi Nakashi and his family once resided. Ryomi's father and mother worked as corporate administrators for a major company located in the city of Quarreln that was many miles from Lorenton. But, seeking escape from the hustle of the city, Mr. and Mrs. Nakashi decided that a humble residence in the country would be just what they and their children would need to relax. To their surprise, their decision had been dead wrong. What the two parents had failed to realize was that myriad storms ravaged the plains and many gave birth to tornadoes.

It only took a single night. The rain relentlessly fell down upon the Nakashi family’s two-story home and lightning danced across the night sky outside. Thunder boomed and the wind was so powerful that it shook the very foundations of the house. The family sat huddled together in the den, the parents trying to calm the children. Never before had they experienced such a frightening storm. Not even the whispered words of comfort brought solace to the children’s souls. Thus, they all sat in fear in the darkness in the den until the winds reached the point of howling, and it became obvious that something horrible was going on. And they were right.

A tornado scoured the town not too far away, its mighty gusts ripping houses to shreds and sending debris mercilessly flying through the air. The screams of those unfortunate enough to get caught in it were drowned out by the blasting winds, and no other sound was audible. The wind dominated all. The tornado continued along its chosen path, never straying from, and thus leaving the Nakashi home with minimal damage. As the family emerged from their home after the storm had passed, they came upon a scene of complete ruin. Most of the town had been destroyed by the tornado and Lorenton now looked like a pile of wood and other various articles of refuse. Some lucky houses remained standing, though shutters were torn off and shingles were missing from them. No home remained completely intact.

Several other families were beginning to emerge from various places. Some of them were more wary of tornadoes and had built shelters, so the Nakashi family was surprised when some people suddenly appeared from seemingly out of nowhere. The people wandered about the remains of the town they once cherished with their hands shielding their eyes from the sun that now deigned to spread its warming rays down upon the wreckage. The Nakashi family turned around to look at their own home: it appeared fine, but in mere moments, right before their eyes, the structure collapsed. The parents grabbed their children and ran off to gain distance between them and the collapsing house, and even when they were far enough away, they kept their hands over their children’s eyes so that they couldn’t see that their home would soon be naught.

That was nine years ago.

With no options left, the parents decided that, though it would be a horrible experience, they would move to Quarreln, for staying in the plains any longer would just boost the risk of losing everything again. So, the family moved into a cozy apartment downtown. Unfortunately, the coziness did not aid the family’s situation. It just wasn’t as tranquil as the country, and soon, the stress of parents’ jobs became to much and they began to have many arguments. One night, things grew violent. The argument had started over the bad decision to move to the plains.

“If you did more research about that place, we would have known about the tornadoes,” Mother had said accusingly. The whole family was at the dinner table enjoying Mother’s cooking. It had been at least two years since the incident, but it still remained vivid in the memories of the Nakashi family.

Father glanced at her dejectedly. “People don’t do research on where they want to live; that’s what they pay the damned real estate agent for. It’s not my fault that bitch didn’t tell us about the tornadoes,” he responded angrily, taking a large bite out of a fried chicken leg. The children exchanged a worried look.

“Keep your voice down,” Mother hissed. “And watch your language around the children.” She glared at him for a second before giving the children a comforting glance.

“Don’t fill them with delusion,” Father replied, his voice defiant. “People curse and people yell. That’s life.”

“Well, our children shouldn’t have to listen to it.”

“Just shut the hell up, will you?!” Father shouted suddenly, banging his fist on the table. The children jumped.

“Go to your rooms, kids,” Mother said quickly and got up from her seat. The sound of chairs scraping against the floor and hurried footsteps ensued as Mother ushered the kids out of the room. She then turned to Father. “What are you trying to accomplish by scaring those kids?”

“It’s not about the damn kids!” he yelled back at her in response. “You just can’t forget about that mother fucking tornado, can you? Just drop the issue! We’re doing just fine right here.”

“I can’t help it if one of us makes a careless mistake that puts the whole family at risk,” Mother spoke passive aggressively.

“You know what, bitch? I’ll show you a careless mistake!” Father roared and pushed his chair out to stand up. Without hesitation and his face full of anger, he rushed up to Mother and punched her in the face sending her tumbling to the floor. Mother looked up and touched her cheek gingerly; it was bruised.

“I hope you feel proud of yourself. Some husband and father you turned out to be!” Mother screamed at him.

This only made Father more upset and he was upon her in seconds. He pinned her to the ground and beat at her face without mercy. It went on for what seemed like an eternity to poor Mother before she fell unconscious. Father rolled off of his wife and lie in the floor, panting. His hands were shaking and he noticed that there was blood on his fingers. They were his wife’s blood. He gazed at them, horrified, and backed into a corner where he cried. The tears filled his eyes quickly, and he felt like they would never stop flowing. Eventually, he cried himself to sleep. The children were left to make heads or tails of the situation in their room. The son held his sister close to him. Tears were also in both of their eyes. Hearing what was happening in the dining room was even more frightening than the night the tornado had struck.

The next day, Mother left. She said goodbye to her children; though Father had beat her up just last night, she knew he would never lay a hand on the children. She took only her belongings, for she didn’t care about what might be hers or what might be Father’s. The children were sad, but Mother’s gentle smile was enough to calm them. Father had awoken before she left, and not a word was exchanged between the two. Every time he saw her bruised and swollen face, he felt like and iron spike had been driven through his heart. The pain of guilt was too much for him, and he wept some more. The door closed behind her, and she was never seen again.

After that particularly trying ordeal, Father and his children remained in the apartment, though Father typically avoided the dining room and even his bedroom, for seeing the lack of Mother’s belongings brought the guilt back to ravage his mind. He spent most of his time drinking alcohol in the living room, watching television whenever he wasn’t working. His two children had grown up into very mature teenagers. Ryomi, the 16-year-old son, already had a job and took care of his sister, Cyan, who was 14 years old. Both of them were in high school and had great grades; Father couldn’t be more proud, though most of the time he was in a drunken slumber on the couch with potato chip crumbs scattered over his body.

Ryomi and Cyan took care of their father, but Ryomi was becoming more and more resentful towards him, for he remembered the night when Mother left. He didn’t understand things back then, but he was wise enough to know now. The routine that had befallen him made him irascible, and he didn’t have too many friends at school. He preferred it that way. However, he longed for an escape from the monotony of his life. If only there was some way to break the bonds of reality and enter into a world of fantasy, he would be so happy.

Unfortunately, the unsuspecting fool did not know that there was, and that the energies that were ripping the universe apart at the seams were about to claim him.