Scorched Twilight

Chapter 32: Alone Again

Iberia

She could hear it, a weak and low whistle of a familiar woodwind instrument. The woman recognized the sound, but her heart thumped for a moment, the possibility of who she thinks is playing the instrument keeping her on her toes.

She was on a rocky beach, with more rocks than sand in the area, a wrong step could lead to getting cut by the sharp rocks. The smell of seawater was thick, overwhelming her senses, but she was used to it, and less used to the dryness in her throat from the air of the land she walked on.

How long has it been since she set foot on land, days? Months? There used to be more people like her, but now they are gone, leaving only a handful left to be waiting for their fate in the hands of those under the waves. She was certain of it, even she could be tempted by its lulling song.

The whistle was louder now, she dropped deeper into the shore with a short fall off a ledge, finding herself in an area of the rocky beach usually covered by high tides. There, she spotted a hill, the origin of the smoke was there, along with the sound of the instrument.

When she reached the top, there was a small hole on it, where the smoke funneled up to. She looked through the smoke and noticed that it originated from a fire, fire that was cooking some kind of meat. There was nobody she could see from her point of view, so she called out for anyone.

At the first few seconds, no reply, she was going to have to call out again before she heard shuffling, followed by a thud that resembled footsteps.

"C-Captain?"

Gladiia recognized the voice, weak and came out as only a whisper. Her lance cracked open the stone with a loud spark, leaving enough space for her to drop inside.

Gladiia: Yes, it's me.

"It's really... It's really... you, right? I-I'm not... hallucinating... here?"

Gladiia: No, you're not. I am real.

Now that Gladiia stood on the same floor as him, she could see how much he had changed. He looked no younger than a kid in his teens but was as thin as a toothpick, the outline of his bones visible wherever you saw on his naked body. Filth covered him from head to toe as well, from his own blood to mud and sand, he was covered in so much that his white hair wasn't even white anymore.

The malnourished kid was missing a whole arm, but stretched his other arm out to touch Gladiia's. He froze when he felt it, tears started to stream down his bloodshot eyes when he squeezed it, his legs collapsing like falling sticks after confirming that she was indeed, real.

Gladiia: How have you survived for this long?

"I... My arms."

One of his arms was cut, the wound becoming a stump starting from the elbow, the other had a two of his fingers and a significant chunk missing from his hand. Gladiia knew what he was referring to just from looking at a pile of bones picked clean of meat, and she wanted to bring him out as soon as possible.

Gladiia: Let's get you out of here.

"My... flute..."

Gladiia: I'll hold on to it, you can rest easy. I'll get you something to eat too.

"No meat please... Hehe..."

She didn't know why he could even joke at this moment, especially when his lips couldn't even tug upwards to smile. Gladiia grabbed her lance with her free hand and slashed at the rock wall, a hole opening up just big enough for her.

"Are we... the only ones alive...?"

Gladiia: No, Skadi and Laurentina are alive, possibly more.

"That... makes me happy, my... my... sacrifice wasn't in vain."