In the Darkness
Takarion opened his eyes. Am I... alive? He groped around him. Everything was buried under piles of cold snow. Takarion shoveled away the snow and poked his head out.
Ah...
A vast, open snowfield stretched before him. An avalanche had swept through, leaving the area unnaturally clean. Takarion staggered forward, planting his feet in the pristine white expanse. One step. Another. His legs wobbled unsteadily.
I...
Takarion closed his eyes. The afternoon sunlight reflected off the snowfield, making it hard to keep them open. But the glare was just an excuse. Truth be told... he wanted to lose his memories again, just like that.
What the hell have I done?
Memories resurfaced from the darkness. Takarion had rushed toward Ian, only to trip over his own feet and face-plant into the ground. It was utterly pathetic.
I...
Takarion drew in a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but his trembling limbs wouldn't cooperate. That idiotic mistake had nearly cost him his life. If Ian had rushed out to save him, Ian's life would have been in danger too. He'd put his comrade's life at risk.
I... I...
A hot surge rose in his throat. It was a choked sob.
"H-huh... hngh...!"
Hot tears streamed down Takarion's face. Once they started, there was no stopping them. He collapsed right there, wailing at the top of his lungs.
"Waaaaah!"
Those weren't tears of joy. Despite miraculously surviving, Takarion felt no happiness.
Why am I such a worthless piece of shit!
The emotion making Takarion cry was pure self-loathing. He wanted to be like the others—like Belenca or Kira or Pyra—someone who could pull their weight perfectly with their awesome talents.
Takarion had dreamed of a hero's life since childhood. He wanted to be cool, respected. But his dreams were grand, while reality was a sewer. Far from becoming a hero, he'd been bullied and mocked by the other orphans at the monastery, enduring violence and ridicule. It was his innate limitations, his lack of talent.
Still, Takarion idolized heroes endlessly, achieving great success by writing gospels depicting the saints' deeds. He just wanted to be someone greater. He thought climbing high would earn him respect. He couldn't be a battlefield hero, but surely religious praise was within reach.
So he left the monastery. He believed that once outside, he could become anything.
But everything that befell him was nightmarish. Kidnapped, barely escaping. Swept into an avalanche, lost. A string of mistakes, immature blunders, unforgivable failures.
Am I such a pathetic loser I can't even walk straight? Is that who I am?
Takarion clutched his Arcana card and sobbed uncontrollably.
Illustration of a dark-blue-haired girl smiling radiantly
Rune inscription: [No. 17, The Star]
Mage Ian. Unlike Takarion, an incredible operator who always produced astonishing results. Once, Takarion had envied Ian's abilities. Looking back, it was ridiculous. Takarion was pathetically inferior, not even worth comparing.
Maybe I should just die.
Takarion stared at the empty snowfield with dry eyes. He'd blabbered on about heroes, but he was trash who couldn't even measure up to half of Saint Marcus. How shameless. Takarion, you fat-fingered wretch, daring to scribble over a saint's great deeds!
Shame and disgust coiled around him like snakes. Surrendering to these feelings and giving up everything seemed like it would bring peace.
But then, Takarion fiddled with the Arcana card. It depicted a dark-blue-haired girl smiling brightly.
Beautiful...
Captivated by the divine illustration, Takarion momentarily forgot his suicidal thoughts. Otakus have always been weak to pretty art...
What's this?
He examined the card closely. It bore the rune inscription [No. 17, The Star], but Takarion didn't understand it. Even a monk like him didn't know northern runes. He was unaware that No. 17, The Star, symbolized hope—a guide for the lost, whispering wisdom and inspiration.
The moment Takarion was lost in the beautiful illustration, he remembered Ian's final shout.
"Survive, Takarion!"
"If we meet again, I'll make sure to send you back to the Empire!"
"Ah..."
Takarion wiped his tear-streaked eyes. He was a pathetic mess of mistakes. But throwing his life away here would make him irredeemable trash.
...I can't die in a place like this.
Gathering all his strength, Takarion trudged across the snowfield. His steps staggered, but he refused to fall. For Ian's sake, who helped even a wretch like him, Takarion would survive.
...Huh?
Climbing a snow-covered hill, Takarion gaped at the sight below.
Ian!
Ian and his party were locked in battle with monsters.
What do I do...? What should I do...!
The monsters numbered in the dozens. Even with a mage, shaman, and knight, facing such overwhelming odds was no joke.
If Saint Marcus were here...
Takarion steadied his trembling limbs. For a fleeting moment, he imagined the saint descending to sweep away the foul beasts. But he knew it was futile fantasy. From childhood to now, the heroes of his imagination had never come to save him.
If there's anyone who can help Ian...
Takarion straightened his back.
...it's me!
Only action could change reality. Takarion looked down the hill.
Like Saint Marcus.
Takarion drew a deep breath and bellowed at the monsters with a thunderous voice!
"You foolish underground abominations! Who do you dare bare your fangs at right now!!!"
"Kieek...?"
"With the sun shining so brilliantly! Do you not fear heaven's wrath!"
Starting was the hard part. Once he raised his voice, Takarion unleashed a torrent of verbose rhetoric worthy of his writing skills, drawing the monsters' attention!
"Kyaaak!"
About half the monsters aggroed on him. As they charged up the hill, Takarion felt a chilling thrill.
I did it! I actually did it!
Success in taunting them was exhilarating.
...But now what?
Being chased by them was terrifying!
Run for it!
Takarion bolted across the snowfield with everything he had.
Ian vented his frustration at the north in style.
"This freaking north sucks!"
Not long before the monster ambush. The thrilling snowboarding had been short-lived. Ian had discovered a frozen Yagon graveyard and sensed things were about to go south.
"Pyra. If I said the Mountain King attacked northerners to hide that... would that be too much of a stretch?"
"No. Totally plausible."
Pyra muttered, her face shocked. The Mountain King had no interest in Yagon. Grendels ate meat and hunted them, but humans took most. Yet a massive Yagon burial site deep in the Mountain King's territory? Corpses piled high.
"We need a tribal council."
Pyra's expression hardened. If the Mountain King was poaching human food supplies, he was no longer fit for coexistence. He was a monster to be hunted.
"Grab Takarion and let's GTFO."
"Any way to find him?"
Pyra asked from a northerner's common-sense perspective. Dealing with ignorant southern barbarians required such questions. But her companion was an imperial mage.
"With magic, obviously."
"..."
Ah. Duh.
Pyra shot Ian an exasperated look. Ian had given Takarion the Arcana card and sensed he was alive somewhere. Searching for him—ask the mystery of ice or send Oberon—plenty of options.
But the monsters arrived first.
"Kyaaak!"
"Kiaak!"
Grendels, the Mountain King's sentinels.
"Ian! Enemies!"
"Yeah. Those damn mutts!"
Blue mysteries ignited in Ian's eyes. Pyra tapped his shoulder worriedly.
"You... okay?"
"What if I'm not?!"
Ian's mage crankiness flared up after ages. He'd overused magic today. No mysteries from the Arcana card. He could force it by abusing his body, though. Fresh off the elixir, time to grind till he dropped.
"Ice, arise!"
"Rise up!"
⟨ Cryokinesis ⟩
Ice chunks erupted, forming a narrow passage. At least they wouldn't be surrounded here.
"Magic circle! Gotta draw a magic circle!"
Ian decided to call on the impure mystery again. Unlike the easy Arcana cheat last time, he'd need a proper summoning circle now. The impure mystery was potent; summon correctly, dismiss politely, or trouble follows.
"Got it! We'll buy time!"
While his comrades fought the monsters, Ian hurriedly drew the circle.
Faster... faster...!
"Ian!"
"Just a bit more!"
Time was short. Too many enemies. But then—
A booming roar shook the monster horde from afar!
"You foolish underground abominations! Who do you dare bare your fangs at right now!!!"
...Takarion?
Ian looked up, spotting the source. Takarion stood atop the hill, bathed in afternoon sunlight so brightly it seemed like a halo.
Ian briefly wondered if Takarion had become a saint, then shook his head.
What crazy thought is that.
Shaking off distractions, Ian focused on the circle.
"It's me! Sorry! Help me out one more time?"
The impure mystery grumbled but didn't refuse.
"Kiaaaak!"
Ian led with the impure mystery, driving off the Grendels. Then he rushed to Takarion.
"Gahhh! Help! Somebody save me!!!"
"..."
So badass from the hilltop. Now, chased like a ragdoll. Ian cleared the remaining Grendels and approached. Takarion panted, slumped on the ground.
"Yo, Takarion. You looked kinda saintly back there."
"R-really...?"
Physically, with that halo glow. Ian swallowed the rest and offered a hand.
"Yeah. Totally."
Takarion grinned and took Ian's hand.