Oblivion

“Fielle, you are ours of which represents death. Hence, it feels suitable enough to send you to this solitary island of Socn. Now, go.”

Without saying another word, a girl with orange-colored eyes slowly lifted her head. Her eyes focused on nothing, aimlessness from her blindness. Despite her inability to see, she turned around and exited the dark concrete room without effort. She held nothing to assist her in movement and walked as a person with the ability to see would.

Eventually the blind woman made it to a small carriage outside. And so, the journey to Socn began. Acting as if she could see the sky, her eyes dazed out of the carriage window. The seats were luxurious. Her hair was long, white with rose colored tips. She wore it in a messy bun. She visibly failed to get all of her hair within the bun, so some of it fell to her back. She had a pale-yellow dress of which had chrysanthemums bordered on it. Due to its bridal-like style it covered most of the floor within the carriage, having a split from her knees down to allow her to walk.

“Fielle, ma’am, we will have to board the boat soon,” a male voice said right across from her in the carriage. Three others were in the carriage with her. Three male soldiers bearing the symbol of swords were across from her. Each symbol was unique, yet the same in design. The man who spoke bore a symbol of swords which carried two swords, crossed and connected with red thorns. This marked both his rank and his squadron within the imperial army. This man was known as the Tþā of Heoru within the ranks. Next to him was the Seox of Heoru of which bore six swords on his symbol, then the Þrēo of Heoru which held three swords. The higher the rank, the more complex the symbol. Seox of Heoru’s symbol held six swords, each stabbing into the Seoxaneahta. The Þrēo of Heoru’s symbol was a much simpler design, with striking resemblance to the Tþā of Heoru. The only difference was a sword placed between the crossed swords.

The carriage came to a halt at the docks of Cleole. Fielle made one of the soldiers collect the portion of her dress which covered the floor, so that she could stand properly. One foot at a time, she began to climb out of the carriage, forcing the solider to keep the dress behind her as she did so. He let go of the excess cloth once she was out, allowing it to drag as she walked across the paved road heading to the docks. Unaware of where a boat may be, she finally spoke instead of using hand gestures towards the soldiers. “You three, come find us which boat we are taking. The King is sending me to Socn. I expect no delays in this with three from the Heoru squadron,” with this in a panic the three soldiers rushed to find a nearby worker.

In a short amount of time, the three found a worker. However, they also discovered they had been followed. Not by enemy, but by a crowd of commoners. Each curious to know why an Imperial carriage would show up in a rural village. In their best attempts, the soldiers tried to ignore the commoners and spoke to one of the workers. “We need to secure a boat, we are on a request by his majesty,” the Seox of Heoru was the first of the soldiers to speak. He was a man around his mid-thirties. Despite stating who the request was from, the commoners began to praise the Heoru squadron. Each of them started incoherent rants of the Heoru Squad and its past achievements. Nonstop rambling started, and the worker of whom they were talking to chimed in, becoming a hopeless cause.

Fielle made her way to the commotion near the squadron. One by one, each commoner took notice of her. The crowd slowly began to quiet down with her approach. One man pulling out a charm, closing his eyes and began praying. An older couple stumbled and began to run as fear filled the air, while dread consumed each commoner who took notice of her presence. An older man, around his mid-thirties walked in front of the crowd and put his hand in the air. “You need to leave, there isn’t any place in this village for you nasty Dunifol!” One by one each commoner began to chime in, with agreement. The three soldiers each clenched their teeth and looked at the ground. It isn’t something they had the guts to say, though each soldier believed it. “Enough! We need to have a boat, no more nonsense,” the Seox of Heoru finally cut into the degrading crowd’s rants loud enough all of them stopped speaking. He grabbed the worker girl’s arm and pulled her away from the crowd. “Prepare one now,” he commanded. With a fearful gulp and a disdainful look on her face, the commoner worker began to sprint towards one of the boats. She started to prep it without looking back.

Fielle held an unreadable look on her face. Despite that, the Seox of Heoru thought even if for a split second, that her expression had faltered. What he believes he seen was not a look of despair, sadness or even hatred. What he thinks he seen was pure bloodlust towards every human in radius of her. Her eyes, he remembered, did not look at any specific individual, not even the one who sparked this petty dispute. Empty and staring at nothing, it felt for that fleeting moment the one who could not see was staring at everything and everyone wishing for nothing but death to come their way. ‘What was that?...,’ was the only thought he could process. His mouth moved on it’s own, to prevent any further altercations. He stared at the ground to collect his thoughts. He didn’t even think when he yelled, yet it wasn’t in any attempt to protect her. Rather, to protect himself. He pushed the thought down and disregarded that. He shrugged it off as pity for her being a lower being in need of help, that she wasn’t capable of such bloodlust, and it was just his imagination. It was fully real though. Every single bit of it.

Each soldier boarded the boat in pure silence. Fielle managed to board the boat alone despite her struggle. She sensed her surroundings by touch, smell, hearing, and occasionally even taste if the smell was strong enough. However, on a boat it became a different story. The moment she boarded, instead of finding a seat she decided to sit right where she had boarded, refusing to move at all on the boat. A small man approached, apparently, he was the captain of this little ship. With that, the trip to Socn began.

What was supposed to be an excessively exhausting trip was nothing for Fielle. She slept the entirety of the trip, which took eleven days to complete. They had finally arrived at Socn. Each soldier got ready to get on land, each seasick. Leaving their cabins, their excitement quickly turned into deafening silence. Fielle stood cheerful, despite the trip lasting very little for her provided her unconscious state the entire way. Fortunately, Dunifol could go for a full month without really eating. She swayed to the dock, ready to depart from her worst enemy. She struggled greatly to use her senses on any boat. She stumbled down, off the dock on the solid ground. Finally, understanding why the soldiers became so quiet.

The island of Socn was in total ruin. Rubble covered the ground for miles. What was once an asylum for the Empire’s worst enemies, was turned into nothing but rubble. The proud Asylum of Ormodnus was in ruins. Fielle could only sense one heartbeat on the entirety of this small solitary island. She began to walk towards it. The soldiers followed closely behind, giving sympathetic looks as they walked past each demolished house. Some seeing morbid scenes of remains that had begun to rot, trapped underneath the rubble. For miles, this went on. No resident was spared of this cruelty. Now the question was, what had caused this horrific scene? The blue grass was tainted, withered, and in the midst of spring? Fielle had begun to run to this heartbeat that she heard. She recognized the feeling through the ground, down to the living being’s core. A young Dunifol, the same race as her. Seeing further than the soldiers ever could, Fielle’s protective instincts surged. She had begun to enter a breathless sprint. The soldiers, closely behind. Suddenly, each came to a halt, one by one.

A young Dunifol, with minimal injuries, lay on the ground. She was weeping. Blood and scratches covered her knees and face. She wore no shoes, in nothing but rags. Despite being maybe 17 years of age, the girl’s hair was solid white. She had short white hair, white eyelashes, her lips, a pale purple color likely a result of the cold air. Fielle reached out her gloved hand to the young girl to help her up, giving a small smile. The soldiers yelled at her, “Fielle! That girl is wearing nothing but rags, and we are aware you cannot see markings. She bears the mark of Ormodnus. She was one of the ‘patients’ here, you know what must be done.” Fielle’s expression faltered for a fraction of a second, reforming the prior one into fakeness. She slipped one glove off, then extended her hand to the girl once again. The soldiers went completely silent. Despite their bitterness to Dunifol, they could feel some empathy for Fielle for doing her duties as one of the Twenty-two Spears. The girl reached her hand up, not sensing any sort of danger, and grabbed Fielle’s hand. The soldiers placed their hands upon Fielle’s back in support of her bitter yet final decision.

Then, in...

One... Two... Three... Four?... Five.

Fielle’s eyes slowly widened in shock. Five seconds had passed. The girl’s hand remained in hers, tightening her six fingers around. Squeezing from the pain and shivering into Fielle’s hand to gain a sense of stability. Fielle’s eyes went from one of shock, to one of understanding and recognition. The soldiers began to panic, five seconds have passed yet not a single stage of decay had passed. “It’s fine that you can’t do it Fielle, we thought those gloves of yours were to prevent accidental use of your Tacn. Allow us to do this,” the Seox of Heoru lightly pressed her shoulder backwards. He drew his sword from his scabbard about halfway, and in an instant Fielle’s hands were on his wrist. Within the next five seconds her ungloved hands were already on the other two soldiers. Within ten seconds, each of them has rotted away, leaving nothing but skeletal remains.

“Now that THAT is over with, little girl, what’s your name?” a warped smile crept upon Fielle’s expression.