Apostasian Revelations

Chapter Twenty Eight

The heavens cried out with sorrow in mind as the wind howled loudly, the burned bolts screamed as they flashed around in the grey puddled skies with thunderous roars.

Here Miguel was rushing, rushing to get to safety, his heart rate was beating with a burning intensity as he felt claustrophobia even in such an open environment.

The tiles seemed slippery however the rogue held no real fear nor any level of uncertainty towards them.

With every baited breath he drawed out longer, running soon became a tiresome task, he was escaping, but from what?

He saw something he should've thought about earlier, he should've known this could have happened and now he was rushing to ask, no, beg for another chance.

Virgil knew his name, Virgil knew his name, this was the biggest mistake he had ever even given the Duke in line that was currently on a mad dash to what Miguel could only suspect to be the labyrinth he had designed decades prior in the real world.

Yuf wasn't aware, neither was Rouge about this, no one was infact.

He hadn't told anyone this secret in nearly twenty five years, and today push had indeed came to shove, and he was tumbling.

It was a mad dash to Madame Resourd's mansion, a pretty pearl in a dirt poor district of the old kingdom now, though he had his doubts this would certainly be the only method he could get a safe journey to Gaylé, the rumoured location of the pseudo-prince of Reggasia.

She had obliged, but with a sneaky condition to hand over the papers he had kept with himself recently.

He too had to oblige, such was the negotiating tactics both used, simple but both got something they want, a compromise.

And so he sailed off in such a hurrying pace, when the dust settled after the storm and the calm waters prevailed he took a breath in of the salty air that gave a slight sting in his eyes, the humidity was horrid but somehow after a meaningless pirate ship invading their business, Miguel had finally reached to Gaylé after who knew how long, safe at last he thought.

He didn't have much to do here, Virgil could still be out there in the forest just beyond Gaylé, cliffs and mountains just out of reach and unmarked lands beyond there, that was where the prize was held, that was where the race would end.

And so he marched, among the tree tops with monkeys and other climbing parasites, in the stompy marshland and dangerous waters of the main land separating rivers.

Miguel had crossed the rubicon, he was alone though with enough time he had managed to get to the large dome like structure, pure black tiles and tiles of bever ending void like existence greeted him as he pathetically entered, it seemed to be untouched, yet it had an eery feel to it.

He hadn't a clue as to why, but he felt as if this place was important for some reason, and not just because it was massive.

"Welcome," A voice boomed, "I see you have discovered this safe sanction." It chimed in right after.

An angelic face yet it seemed so old, so tired, so ancient and all knowing.

"Open." Was all the rogue said instinctively, and with a nod the tomes of secrets had been revealed, lying atop the chamber's centre, though what was there was surprising.

"What the.. damn it, guess somebody else beat me to it, grand just grand!" He cursed out in vain as the old man sat down one last time on his throne like chair.

"My old friend, care to share your worries?" He asked, his brown hair from his youth no longer remained, his eyes seemed greyed out and dulled, though compassion somehow remained deep in his archaic roots.

"It's just.." Miguel started, his voice was shaky and it felt trembling and weak, as though it would shatter with even a slight touch, "I'm too late, damn it! I'm a failure!"

The man's wrinkles seemed to block most of his important features now, though his lips still somehow curved upwards.

A stifle of air reached out of his raspy lips, "I understood it," He said, "I understood it all."

"Understood what? The severity of this situation? With that dagger on the loose the entire kingdom's freedom is hanging in the balance! Damn it you old fart! This isn't the time for riddles!"

He nodded, "This surely isn't, and time is most definitely of the essence, but care to take a seat?"

He groaned, growls erupting out of his scowl as he bitterly and impatiently sat down hard and fast on the ground.

He smiled, "I understood it, what you had asked of me."

"So?" Miguel asked, unfazed, he couldn't care less as to what he actually meant by that.

His eyes seemed to hold a bitter contempt for the man on the throne, his mind was racing about the varying culprits that could've stolen the dagger, it was a relic from an era far beyond time itself to the people of the land, from the ages of oppression it lead the revolt of liberty, and ironically enough it would be in the hands of the opposition this time.

"You gave me this task roughly seventeen hundred years ago, back then I despised you, now however I have understood what you had meant all so long ago."

Miguel listened on, though his mind still pacing around the issue.

The ancient being frowned, he found it rather ironic for such words to be uttered, however he just carried on with no fear.

"Something troubles you though, how about that first?" He asked.

  "Something troubles me? Of course it does! Rouge, Yuf, Hell everyone's lives are in danger because of me!" Miguel responded, red eyes glaring up at the man.

He smiled for what seemed like an eternity, for what would be the last minutes of his life now.

"Ah, but it isn't. One can not predict what happens in life, we must all just learn to accept it and 'go with the flow."

Miguel was speechless for a couple seconds, the corners of his mouth twitched as his heart burned, deep down inside he knew what the man meant, though through gritted teeth he answered.

"Yeah, well what the Hell am I supposed to do now then? That damned dagger could probably slice through an entire city in half!"

Tilting his head, "Why not do what you do best then?" It seemed that Miguel was still hesitant now.

"What am I best at exactly? Failing? Screwing up?" He countered, or atleast tried to.

The old one's lips seemed to tremble into a thin line as his voice boomed once more, "Learning from your 'failures', from your 'screw ups', and ultimately doing what you want to do."

Scowling, Miguel still didn't know why exactly he was drawn to this place, was it from some sort of subliminal messaging?
Or could it be from something a tad bit more deeper?

Crossing his arms together, he started pacing away for a plan, all the meanwhile the old entity watched, "Thanks for the advice I guess," He cracked out with a frown, "You know me way too well."

"I guess I would have to, it was my job a long time ago."

Nodding along hopelessly, he was lost in the tides of words, the spread out truth felt prickly and untouchable, who was this person?

"Myself, Rashperance."

"I guess you already know who I am? Well, thanks for your advice again, hopefully I won't mess up big time again."

Smiling, Rashperance felt like chuckling, "Of course it would fit you, you made it for yourself after all."

And thus all went dark.