Chapter Text
Yuder Ail has gone missing.
That is the news that spread through the entire empire like wildfire. Yuder Ail, the commoner awakened person who swept the entire empire like a storm, defeated an enormous monster all by himself in the Great Sarain forest, as well as achieving great success in the south, saved the world from a great calamity, was missing now that chaos had passed.
What first started as a mere rumour, continued to spread uncontrollably. People waited for the cavalry to come forward and deny these rumours. After all, saying that the hero who saved the world was missing would likely give rise to ugly theories.
Except, there is no denial nor confirmation.
There was no missing person poster, no article in the newspaper. However the rumour of Yuder Ali's disappearance still spread like wildfire, with no one to quell it down with water.
And finally, nearly six months after the rumours began floating around, an official notice from the cavalry was pinned on the notice board of almost every city of the empire.
“Yuder Ail has gone missing.”
Yuder Ail has gone missing.
And two years later, He was declared possibly deceased by the imperial family.
______
Yuder Ail didn't know who he was when he first woke up.
An unbearable pain all over his body, his eyes that he could barely open and see from, and his mouth that won't open no matter what.
His head felt empty yet heavy at the same time. Where was he? Why did his body hurt so much? And most importantly who was he?
All kinds of questions ran rampant throughout his mind, causing a head-splitting pain. He wanted to hold his head down, but he was unable to lift a finger.
His throat was dry with thirst, a pain filled his stomach; one he couldn't tell if it was from hunger or something piercing it. A faint light lingered In front of his eyes, too bright to actually see anything beyond it properly. He could only hear the faint voices of multiple people talking.
“....what do you….that…will he…”
“..we don't know….but…chances are….”
“–not impossible but…..”
Conversation that was barely legible penetrated his ears. He did not understand what they were saying. A sense of panic spread through his veins as the pain in his head intensified.
“I don't care….do…take whatever…needs…save…”
“–what about…..in him..?
“.....”
“....save……”
The voices began to fade as he felt the bright light in front of his eyes getting dimmer and dimmer. Desperate, the man tried to lift his finger, trying to grab onto something, anything. The voice kept getting duller and duller.
“....as…you”
“– – – ….but…”
“...we..”
“..yo…”
And finally, the human voices were completely replaced with a pounding, irritating ringing. The man felt something snap in him, and just like that, the light completely faded out, and so did his consciousness.
__
His body felt sore.
It was a different kind of sore, not the kind you would feel from a body filled with wounds. It was similar to the pain that emerged after a prolonged period of straining your muscles.
The man tried shifting around, feeling the soft bed sheets on his skin, yet before he could, the sensation of cold fabric tracing his stomach stopped him within seconds.
Blurry sensations began becoming more and more clear. The man felt hot breath on the crook of his neck, cold fingers rubbing circles on his abdomen as well as the soreness that doubled from below his hips.
From the corner of his eyes, in this dark room, he could make out strands of blonde hair clumped together, a sharp jaw as well as the warm body that held his own close.
The man tried craning his neck, wanting to get a better look at the other person, yet no matter how much he tried, his neck was stuck in place.
The cold touch continued, even as the man gave up trying to gain a better view of the other person’s face. The dark haired man felt his eyes getting heavier and heavier.
Dragged into an unwanted lull, the man found himself relaxing his body slowly, snuggling in closer to the warmth, he found himself falling into a deep slumber.
___
“You are awake.”
The dark haired man didn't look up when he heard the soft voice of the lilac haired man. He continued to stare at a bowl filled with dark liquid. It was cold to touch, as one would expect from a medicine. A pungent smell came from the liquid, clearly unsavoury.
He hears a chair being dragged towards his sick bed. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the dark-redish skinned man sitting down elegantly, the man, who introduced himself as ‘Ejain’, emitted a kind of aura that would make most people instinctively submissive.
“Yuder.”
A name rolled out of Ejain’s tongue. An unfamiliar name, yet also familiar at the same time. This was his name. ‘Yuder Ail’
Yuder finally spared a glance towards Ejain. The silver haired smiled softly, despite Yuder giving him a near hostile look, one unfitting for both the King of Nelarn and his benefactor.
“How are you feeling?”
“...Fine..”
Yuder spoke in a hoarse voice, his throat felt dry, even though he had just drunk a glass of water. Ejain nodded, a look of relief briefly flashed on his face before disappearing.
“That's good to hear, you don't know how worried I was when I saw you, injured and bloody to the point it was difficult to identify you.”
As Ejain recounted the story he had already told Yuder, the dark eyed man simply turned his attention back to the bowl of bitter medicine. The medicine ripples a little due to his sudden movement becoming completely still.
“How did you end up in Nelarn anyways…? Last I heard you were in the capital of the Orr empire.”
Ejain continues to blabber away, somehow having gained a warm cup of fragrant tea. The silver-haired man closed his eyes as he brought the porcelain cup to his lips, taking a sip of the golden-brown liquid.
“ah, but you don't recall anything?”
Ejain’s blue eyes opened and stared deeply at Yuder’s face. Unknown to the sluggish man sitting on the bed, an uncomfortable feeling worked throughout Ejain’s body. The porcelain cup almost slipped out of his hand multiple times, something that had never happened before.
Yuder, unaware of Ejain’s nervousness, simply nodded.
“Yes.”
“Nothing really? Not even where you are from? Your age or even where you worked ?”
“I didn't know my name, nor anything else.”
“Is that so….not even the person you worked for…?”
Although Ejain said the latter part in an incredibly soft tone, Yuder was still able to hear it. It felt slightly confusing. Was not remembering your job or the person you worked for more worrisome than forgetting your own identity?
As if reading Yuder's thoughts, Ejain let out a faint laugh. His silver hair, tied high into a ponytail, swayed off his shoulder as he placed the cup down on the nightstand.
A gust of wind blew in through the open window, causing the curtains to flutter. Yuder looked up from the bowl for the second time and glanced at the window.
Cold wind touched his face as a chill ran down his spine.
“I know it might be frustrating, but could you try to think a little more? Do you really recall nothing at all?”
Did he have no memory of anything? It won't be a lie to say so. Yuder could only recall feeling pain all over his body, like someone had broken every bone in his body mercilessly and tied it back together with a rope.
He remembers waking up, unable to see anything clearly and hearing muffled voices speaking in a hushed tone, which, according to Ejain, was probably him and two other doctors.
Then he lost consciousness again.
That's all he remembers.
Yuder sighed as he looked away from the bowl for the nth time and glanced at the window. Chilling wind poured every few minutes.
The sheer white curtains fluttered and flapped alongside the wind, as if dancing. The sky blissfully clear, in the distance, Yuder could see birds taking flight, dancing around the clouds.
For a second, Yuder sees a puzzling figure, cladded in white clothes and golden threads, dazzling golden locks dancing over his eyes, lips curled into a smile as they part to say something.
“Y-u-d-”
And then the bowl shatters.
Yuder doesn't register what happened. He simply stares at the now completely vacant window, feeling his heart pound against his chest. Something like a huge hole opening up in his stomach and causing all his organs to shift. It's not pain that he feels, but maybe pain would be better than this.
“Yuder!”
Ejain’s voice falls deaf to his ears. Yuder stares at the window with shakened eyes. The silver haired man rushed to take out a roll of gauze from the bedside drawer. The pristine white blanket soon turned crimson red with the blood from Yuder’s hand.
There is nothing there, as if a mirage, the blonde haired man Yuder had so surely seen was gone.
“..uder….Yuder?”
Finally out of his reverie, Yuder finds himself snapping his neck towards Ejain, the lilac eyes looking at him with concern and only now did Yuder realise that his palms had been bleeding.
Covered in bloody gauze, his hands were held by Ejain’s darker ones, trying to keep the gauze on.
“What happened? You were staring at the window and suddenly shattered the bowl to pieces…”
What happened indeed, from Ejain’s words, it seemed like what he saw was indeed a mirage, however that split image, despite being blurry, reminded Yuder of something.
“Well…I…”
Dizzling golden locks, a familiar smile and the sense of absolute dread in his chest. Indeed, Yuder Ail had not forgotten everything.
He remembers the feeling of cold leather gloves on his back. Playing confusing board games, round after round and then being pulled into a lap, the white ceiling he stared at, trying to drown out the presence next to him. Yet of most, he remembers the absolute dread and anguish he felt every time he was with that man.
Yuder doesn't remember him, not wholly, but he remembers the pain he felt by his side.
“Yuder, did you perhaps remember something?”
The silver haired man had let go of Yuder’s hand after making sure the bleeding stopped. Lilac eyes cladded with worry that made Yuder strangely uncomfortable. Ejain may have already realised that Yuder recalled something.
“...”
“It seems that you have, if you don't mind, could you tell me about it?”
It felt almost suffocating.
“I…saw someone.”
Blonde hair like the sun’s ray on the day he first woke up, eyes red like the blood he bled out. In a white uniform with golden threading, though most of the images Yuder recalled of him were of his bare body.
“Who was it?”
“A man with blonde hair, and red eyes. I think.”
Ejain fell silent for a while, when Yuder glanced at his face, he didn't see the surprise or happiness he had expected from the silver haired man, instead, Ejain had an almost concerned look on his face.
“I see, do you remember who he was to you?”
“No.”
“Anything else you remember about him?”
While Yuder didn't remember anything directly relating to that blonde man, he clearly remembers the sense of loathing and pain that bloomed in his stomach everytime he was in the presence of that man.
“...”
“Yuder?”
“I’m sorry, I.. don’t remember.”
A lie anyone could see through from, Ejain’s lilac eyes stared at him for a few seconds, the look on his face says that he knows Yuder is lying. Yet the black haired man can only wish Ejain decides to show leniency towards him once more. Nonetheless, it seemed as if he had decided to not push the matter anymore
“....I see, Well no need to get too worked up. Think of Nelarn as your home alright? After all, You might not remember but you have helped me quite a lot in the past.”
Although Ejain says with a calm smile, there is still suspicion in his lilac eyes, as if not completely believing Yuder.
“Thank you”
“I have talked too much to a sick person, I shall take my leave now.”
Ejain stood up, the smile on his lips still persistent. He gave Yuder’s back a few pats before turning away. Yuder stared at the back of the man until the door closed behind him, leaving Yuder alone.
____
The cavalry was plagued in silence.
Silent noises of wooden swords clashing with each other echoed throughout the training ground, leaves rustling as a cold wind blows in from the north. The sky cladded with gloomy clouds as birds sat on high branches without taking flight.
“Duke.”
Nathan called out, hands behind his back as he stood in front of Kishiar’s desk with a blank expression. The curtains drawn almost all the way, barely letting any light in the office. The magic stove, which usually burned with vigour now completely vacant of flames.
With blonde hair set loose over bright red eyes, pale cheeks and slightly cracked lips, Kishiar La Orr didn't even bother looking up to see the face of his adjutant. One could easily mistakenly think that the cavalry commander was completely occupied with going through paperwork, but Nathan, who had known him for so long knew that his lord’s focus was anywhere but on the stack of paper.
“You are back, Nathan.”
Finally, Kishiar acknowledged Nathan’s presence, the blonde haired man placed the paper on his desk, blatantly looking up.
Dull red eyes, almost void of life, looked at Nathan, and for a split second, the southerner swore he could feel the lack of life in his lord. Unable to look at Kishiar's dimed face, Nathan found himself looking down at his own feet.
“Yes, my lord.”
“How did it go?”
A completely monotonous voice questioned, and had Nathan known Kishiar any less, he would have completely missed the small, hidden trace of hope in his voice.
“...No progress, We haven't been able to find a single trace of Sir Ail yet.”
“....I see.”
With an audible sigh, Kishiar leaned backwards on his chair. Placing his arm over his eyes the blonde man dug his teeth into the fragile flesh of his lips, almost as if he was trying to hold back from letting out a painful groan.
A distinct feeling creeped up Nathan's spine. The feeling that followed him like a shadow from the day he first met his lord when he was only a slave boy until that fateful day two years ago, felt bitterly nostalgic. Almost as if an old friend he wished never returned has embraced him enthusiastically.
Kishiar, his lord whom he served for nearly two decades, never openly shared his misery with anyone. Creating and spreading unsavoury rumours about himself, portraying himself as the foolish duke who indulges in vulgarity. Always hiding away, building up walls to protect himself as well as those around him.
How did Kishiar La Orr, a man who meticulously planned out every move, start to change, to the point where he became unable to hide his raw emotions behind an invisible wall?
“...”
For a second, the face of a young man appeared in Nathan’s mind, eyes like violet obsidian, a brave gaze, not one bit fearful of anything that might come hurtling towards him. Yuder, Yuder Ail, the man who was probably the most unique person Nathan had seen in his life, had entered his lord's life two years ago.
He entered like a hurricane, turning everything Nathan knew about his lord and awakeners upside down, causing a havoc that left a remarkable mark on this word.
Yet now, that same man had now disappeared like a quiet wind on a winter morning.
“No matter…You did a good job.”
With a creak, Kishiar stood up from his seat. The sky was gloomier than before as the blonde man slowly turned towards the large window.
Nathan watched in silence as Kisshiar slowly strolled towards the glass with weak steps. A blasphemous thought emerged within the southerner’s mind. Could this man, who looked so defeated by the simple disappearance of another man, truly be the same Lord Nathan had decided to swear his life to?
“You must think of me as pathetic right now, Nathan.”
“Duke…”
“Truth is, you are right. I am a pathetic excuse of a man.”
Kishiar laughed mockingly as he reached the window, the darkness from the outside utterly failed to illuminate the descendent of the imperial bloodline. The blonde hair that all had always compared to the brilliant ray of the sun now looked matted and dulled, red eyes that Nathan now feared to look into.
“I feel lost, completely lost. This hopelessness…I do not think I have felt this hopeless even on the day my father was forced to hand me the title of Duke and send me away. Even when countless assassins broke into my dissoluted palace, when my vessel cracked beyond salvation, I was not as miserable then as I am now.”
Nathan found himself looking back at the ground, hands fisted behind his back. What should he say now? Kishiar had always been the one better with words.
“We…will keep looking.”
“Even though everyone says he is dead, I'm still clinging onto the last hope. The cavalry have already accepted it, my brother does not say it but I know he thinks I should let go too but Nathan.”
The southerner could sense the self mockery in Kishiar’s voice. The hopelessness yet also the hope for a miracle to occur.
“But I won't give up, I cannot.”
A hardened expression clings onto Kishiar’s face, bare hands gripping the fabric of his uniform. A golden thread, flickering and barely visible strings out from his chest.
“Yuder Ail is alive, he has to be.”