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1.
The last time Yuder walked through the Hall of Glory, it was to replace the former Commander of the Cavalry. This time, it was because he had erased him from this world.
The hall was even emptier than it was on his inauguration day. There had been no Cavalry members back then, but this time, there were no palace attendants, no whispers and sneers from a noble audience.
“Step forward, Commander of the Cavalry, Yudrein Ail.” Emperor Katchian’s voice rang out from the throne.
It was just walking. He just had to take constant, measured steps towards the center of the room, with the gait befitting of Count Yudrein Ail. But every time the soles of his shoes made indents on the red carpet, his vision swam. The marble floor seemed tilted on the wrong axis, the walls felt as if they would cave in on him. But he eventually reached the end of the red trail, then knelt at the steps before the Emperor.
The Emperor did not have to ask for a detailed report. Did it matter how Yudrein carried out the mission? Duke Peletta was dead, his people scattered, and his dukedom was crumbling. He died in disgrace, his image tarnished, and every trace of him had been burnt. It had all fallen into place so naturally after Yudrein had succeeded in killing him.
Therefore, the Emperor had little platitudes to give, compared to the show he had put up for the nobles on Yudrein’s inauguration day. Yudrein did not need a repeat of that verbal reminder.
After only a few perfunctory formal words, the Emperor said, “For quelling the rebellion of the former Duke Peletta and for your meritorious service in your first mission as the Commander of the Cavalry, I bestow upon you this present.”
It was not an attendant, but the Emperor’s personal knight that approached Yudrein’s kneeling figure, as if he was cautioning from a threat. Yudrein bowed his head, holding out his hands to receive a wooden staff.
Yudrein felt a quiet hum of magic emanating from the red magic stone at its top. It was no ordinary stone, given its size and the purity in its reflection. It must have cost a fortune—a negligible cost for the imperial palace, but a fortune regardless. But Yudrein wasn’t a mage; he had little knowledge of its quality or grade, and it did not matter to him. The spherical red magic stone was encased in gold ornaments, with gold encasing the staff’s dark wood handle. It was not made of a particularly sturdy wood either—he could tell from touch alone. It was not made for practical use, especially for an Awakener.
If that person had not drilled into him the intricacies of the political language of nobles, Yudrein would have thought of it as merely an ostentatious yet thoughtless reward, or a symbol granted to represent his duty as a Commander. But Yudrein knew, as he gripped the fragile wood, that it was more than that.
Yudrein raised his head to meet Katchian’s eyes for the first time that day. “I am grateful for the honor, Your Majesty.” His voice carried neither sincerity nor disdain. It must have echoed the hollowness in his chest.
It had no use to him, but Yudrein Ail took care of the staff as part of his responsibility as a Commander. He maintained it, polished it so that the red stone and the gold ornaments never lost their luster. This, along with all the other useless ornaments Emperor Katchian would later grant him, was a symbol of imperial favor towards the Cavalry. The image of Commander Yudrein Ail in his white uniform holding the bestowed red stone staff was formed each time he brought it in public appearances.
But most of the time, it hung in the Commander’s office, where the Divine Sword Orr once was.
Watching over the new Commander, as those red eyes once did.
2.
Countless rumors surrounded Yudrein as he became the new Cavalry Commander. There were rumors of how he was a filthy traitor who stabbed the one who raised him, that he was an Omega whore who had slept his way into the position, that he was a wretched mutt that mauled its master and became another’s lapdog.
Along with those rumors came the whispers of how unsettling it was that he had continued to use the former Commander’s office as if it were nothing. Did he not care that he was using a dead predecessor’s room? How cold-hearted of him, especially if he truly did kill the former Duke of Peletta.
Yet, Yudrein remained firmly rooted in this place. Defending himself in this office had become tantamount to defending his position as the Commander. In this room, he stood his ground against the Cavalry members who doubted him and wanted him out of his position, against those who had intended to bed and break him down to a commoner half-Omega. Here, he defended himself from the assassins and infiltrators sent by the various noble factions, showcasing his strength as the strongest Awakener of the Cavalry.
The office was the place where Yudrein Ail commanded from. But at the same time, it was just a space. It didn’t matter to him what exactly was within the space, nor did he ever have much of a sense of aesthetics. Other than replacing the Divine Sword Orr with the red stone staff, everything in the room remained exactly the same. The room was perfectly functional, so Yudrein never had any reason to change it.
But one night, consumed by his own thoughts, he finally drank the untouched Quolechet stashed in the corner of the room. He had found a bottle of the monster-poisoned alcohol a few days after his move into the Commander’s office, but he had only found out in his later unpleasant encounters with poisoning attempts that it was one of the few substances that was effective on him. He would replace this bottle with an identical one the next day, as with every bottle he consumed in the future. In moments like these, as he allowed himself to sink into the feeling of intoxication, he became acutely aware of how every object in a space can carve the shape of another person.
He wondered why he had never replaced the magic stone stove in the center of the room. It was more costly and less efficient than a regular wooden stove, but he had not stopped the supply of low-grade magic stone kindling from coming. The books on the shelves had not been his selection. The paintings, beautiful images that built the impression of a dignified Commander’s office, were things he would never choose for himself. The strategy board game on the coffee table was not his set. Yet it sat there, never leaving the top of the table, collecting dust.
Yudrein had never played that game again, not since the day he installed locks on the office windows to stop that man’s midnight visits. The metal locks were drab-looking things, hastily installed and mismatched with the color and style of the window frames. But he had not bothered with removing or replacing them, he had just gotten used to keeping the windows locked.
Which is why the absence of one of those locks from a window was an immediate alarm to him.
Yudrein had just returned from one of the Emperor’s long missions. Stepping into his office, he had a strange feeling that something had changed while he was gone. His eyes scanned the room, then quickly locked onto what exactly was missing. From that, he precisely deduced that someone had infiltrated the room—most likely an assassin.
With his sharp senses and sensitivity to Awakener energy, he pinpointed where the assassin must have hidden. He took slow, measured steps towards the corner, staring straight into the space with his pitch black eyes. He was taunting the infiltrator, as if telling him he could see him, when Yudrein could only vaguely sense him.
Yudrein did not have to figure out what exactly their ability was, whether it was some kind of invisibility, or shadow manipulation, or another kind of stealth ability. The moment the assassin had hastily thrown a dagger at him, he knew exactly where they were.
It took only a few exchanges of blows for the assassin to realize that they were overpowered, that their mission was doomed to end in failure. Yudrein sensed their movements in the wind as they tried to escape. He caught them in an instant, piercing through their heart with an arrow of wind.
The assassin’s body, now visible with their death, fell in the middle of the room with a thud. Being accustomed to situations like this, Yudrein had briefly examined the body and deduced their employer, then called for someone to take the corpse away.
With the body gone, a bright red stain beneath where the assassin had lain was revealed. Yudrain had killed them with a single clean shot, but it seemed the blood had still gotten into the patterned carpet. He wondered if he could find a replacement for it, or if he even should.
He found the shattered pieces of the window lock under the Commander’s desk, most likely hastily hidden there by the assassin after accidentally breaking it.
It was a poor attempt at pretending the room had never been touched.
3.
Yudrein had long grown tired of these ballroom halls.
He only attended these balls because it was his duty, as ordered by the Emperor. It had been etched into him as part of the expectations sought of him as a Commander. But he refused to accept frivolity as a part of that duty.
The former Commander’s frivolity had been known all throughout the land, with his style being the one thing that useless man had been praised for. He made every extravagance tasteful and every peculiarity beautiful, setting the trend of the times when it came to fashion. This trait of his had manifested in the image of the Cavalry in its early days, with all the Cavalry attendees being dressed in new formal attire in the few events they were invited to. Yudrein had been annoyed at how that man dolled up his subordinates as he would himself, but had gone along with it as he was a mere Deputy Commander.
But now that he was the Commander, he saw no point in continuing the spectacle. Yudrein may be a noble in title, but he knew better than anyone else that he would never escape his commoner origins. He was not ashamed of it, and had never once seen it as something to be covered, to pretend that his status was something that he wasn’t. This was just an extra burden of expectation that people put onto his shoulders, one that he did not have to answer to.
So Yudrein issued the command to the Cavalry that their uniforms would suffice as formal wear. He did not stop the members from procuring their own formal wear for such events, but it was not very socially acceptable for them to do so when their Commander had set the precedent of only wearing his uniform. Yudrein could tell that many people were disgruntled by that, especially those who had been in the Cavalry’s first round of recruitment, but he did not pay them any mind.
As such, the Commander of the Cavalry was often spotted near the walls and corners of the ballroom, blending in with the knights in charge of security in his uniform. Perhaps this could be attributed to his unsociable nature, but it could also be said to be his vigilance in guarding the Emperor and the palace.
If it were up to Yudrein, he would only take part in the first dance according to custom, then disappear into the walls. However, the Emperor himself had commanded him to take part in the festivities and socialization. Yudrein knew it was a part of Katchian’s game—to display his sharpest tool to the world, and to attempt to tie his dog down.
Yudrein had avoided many of the Emperor and other nobles’ attempts at setting him up for marriage. Once they looked past Yudrein's status as a broken Omega and a commoner, it was clear to anyone that tying him down with a wife, bringing the Commander of the Empire's strongest military force into their household, would be to their advantage. None have succeeded for years, but that did not stop them from sending women his way, such as the one currently dancing with him.
Yudrein had forgotten the name of the woman in his arms, it had gone in and out of his ears just after she introduced herself. She did not mind that he only gave curt answers and empty glares to her chattiness. Perhaps, she understood that he knew this was a part of the game. And to her credit, she tried to play her part of the game well regardless.
He had been tuning out most of her words, focussing on the dance steps he had learned a long time ago. The steps were familiar, but never felt right enough for him to be able to mechanically replicate without thought. He still had the responsibility to not make a fool of himself as the Commander.
Towards the end of the dance, she ran her hands over his sleeve, much more sensually than what was normally required in the steps of this dance. She said with a light giggle, “You’re always wearing your Commander’s uniform. It feels like I’m dancing with a knight in armor.”
Only those words stuck with Yudrein after she disappeared into the crowd with a wink, even long after he had forgotten the woman’s face.
They felt like an echo of another’s words. That man had once said he chose clothes like they were armor. It was probably around the time when he had dragged Yudrein to a tailor to make his current white uniform. It was the reasoning that man gave in an attempt to placate Yudrein’s annoyance.
Yudrein stared down at the uniform on his body. He had always thought it was too much for his taste, with its embroidery made of golden thread and engraved golden buttons. He never thought himself suited for white and gold clothing, as if the darkness of his hair and his sullen expression would muddy its brilliance. But he had long gotten used to this ornate uniform.
It was not as extravagant as the clothes of the nobles around him, especially as their trends had grown more and more ostentatious in the past few years, but they still held up to the passage of time. It was just enough for him to not look out of place in this ballroom, to be able to stand with its people eye-to-eye.
This uniform was his armor as a leader to the Cavalry, but it had become his armor in the political battlefield of the ballroom as well.
Yudrein had never seen the need to indulge in clothing for himself. Even around the time he was being appointed as Commander, he had assumed he would either continue wearing his Deputy Commander uniform, or he would simply be altering the previous Commander’s uniforms. He had not expected to be made his own uniform, similar to its predecessor on the surface, but a different armor altogether in its fabric and embroidery.
It was not by chance that he did not need to choose any other clothes for himself. This white uniform Yudrein wore was the last armor he had been given, and it was enough.
It was the only one he would ever wear for the rest of his life.
4.
The cracks were appearing more and more frequently.
Ever since the Great Southern Earthquake, Yudrein knew not to take the paired occurrences of monster spawnings and natural disasters lightly. Once would have made the Great Southern Earthquake simply a great incident, twice would have been a coincidence. But the more monster spawnings and natural disasters happened, the clearer the pattern became to Yudrein. None of these events were isolated incidents. Something in the world was fundamentally shifting, and those cracks were a sign—if not the very cause of these changes.
Between his duties to the Emperor, managing the Cavalry branches, and dealing with disasters one after another across the four corners of the Empire, Yudrein was spreading himself thin. But that was nothing compared to the suffering of the people who had to live through these disasters, sometimes not even having time to deal with the aftermath of one event before being dealt with another
It couldn’t keep going on like this. How much had to be lost before the leaders of the Empire would stop turning a blind eye? Did disaster have to come knocking at the Capital’s door for them to take action? The Empire could not afford to simply react to these disasters, they needed to find a way to prevent and prepare for them. They needed to delve into the roots of the issue. But why would the nobles do so, when it was easier to live in bliss than to accept that the world was changing?
Yudrein didn’t expect much help from the noble factions anyway, but being met with scorn and disdain for his warnings had greatly hindered him. Their words swayed the experts and scholars he had attempted to seek help from. He sought out the various mage factions across the Orr Empire, but they could only point him towards some directions in his investigation. He expanded his reach to the mages, experts, and political figures outside the Empire with very little success. Yudrein’s position as the Commander of the Orr Empire’s strongest military force made it precarious to work with him, despite the rumors of how he had been deserting his duty as the Commander for this mad search.
Five years into his mad search for allies and information, his last hope had been pinned on King Ejain of Nelarn. With Nelarn rising to power under their Awakener king, the shield and guardian of their kingdom, maybe they would want to protect this world too.
But that hope was instantly crushed when King Ejain replied that the King of Nelarn could only protect Nelarn, that he couldn’t afford to stretch his efforts out to protect the Orr Empire, much less the world.
The King had said it simply, diplomatically. He doubted Yudrein but did not disregard his warning, giving him a sincere response. The King seemed to carry no ill intentions, at least towards Yudrein, when he offered him to stay in his palace to rest as an honored guest.
Lying in his guest room at Nelarn, it hit Yudrein that at the end of his quest for the truth, he was alone. Everything he had tried to build to protect this world crumbled just as quickly. The Cavalry was recruiting members at the same rate they were losing members from death or desertion. The Cavalry under his command simply wasn’t enough.
He wondered, would the power of a Cavalry Commander have been enough if it weren't him leading it? Yudrein was accustomed to being alone, but being alone at the top of the world, as a leader trying to salvage everything below you, was a completely different matter. If it were that person, the one who had put him in this position in the first place, what would he have done?
In his days as a Deputy Commander, he had often asked himself this question as he was still learning to sharpen his judgement. Not to mention, it was a part of his duty as a subordinate to act as an extension of the Commander’s will.
In his first year as a Commander, this thought had also occasionally crossed Yudrein’s mind, especially in the moments where he felt like he was still trying to fill in someone else’s shoes.
But Yudrein had not thought of this question in a long time. As the memory of the man who had founded the Cavalry faded, as the halls of the Cavalry headquarters stopped whispering his name, and as Yudrein grew more into his authority and role as the Commander, he had not stopped to look back at that man.
Yudrein closed his eyes, shutting down the emotions that threatened to resurface.
Asking himself what the former Commander would have done would not solve anything. Yudrein had no point of reference on that man being in a situation like this, nor did he know him well enough to make predictions based on his character.
Perhaps the sense of impending doom was getting to him mentally, for him to even think of seeking help from the man in his memories.
Faced with helplessness, with the realization of how meaningless his power was, Yudrein remembered the arrogance of his younger self. He remembered how the former Duke had tempered that arrogance, and had tried to teach him in their short time together that there were many things sheer strength could not solve. As Yudrein grew older and came to face all the different forms of power in the world, he now knew the Duke was right.
But what could he do? The mysteries of the strange phenomena were not something he could solve with brute strength alone. His authority as the Cavalry’s leader, fragile and dishonored, was only barely enough to deal with the present issues. He had tried exerting his political influence, but all attempts at cooperation left him branded as a madman.
Left with no answers and options, Yudrein decided to proceed in the only way he knew how: he would move forward on his own. He would take this into his own hands and get into the root of the changes in this world.
And for that, he had to steal the World Sphere.
5.
“Listen, criminal Yudrein Ail!” the judge’s voice rang out in the courtroom. “You are a criminal who forgot your duties and responsibilities as the Commander of the Cavalry, and dared to conspire with an absurd claim that you acted for the sake of the world.”
Yudrein…
Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t heard that name in a while.
He didn’t have any particularly strong feelings towards it. It was close to his birth name, so attaching his identity to Yuder or Yudrein made little difference to him.
Besides, hardly anyone had even called him by that name. He had neither friends nor personal connections who would consider themselves close enough to use it. He had only ever heard it in conjunction with his last name or with titles. For the past few years, he had been known as “Commander” or “Count Ail” or “the Emperor’s lapdog,” and now “traitor of the Orr Empire.”
It was just a name. But in the past nine years, it was the person he had become. It was what Kishiar la Orr had made him into after he left the Cavalry with him.
In the eyes of the world, it was Emperor Katchian la Orr who had granted him the name Yudrein, giving him a new status and identity. Only Yuder had the faintest hint of a memory that the name had come from someone else, but even he never knew what that name meant or what its purpose was. With its secrets forever buried in a graveyard in Peletta, that name only brought him questions and unsolvable mysteries.
As the judge continued to list Yuder’s crimes, from the assassination of the Duke of Peletta, to his desertion of duties as the Commander, to stealing the World Sphere, his face unknowingly held a bitter smile.
Yuder thought he would have little to no regrets in the face of death. He had spilled rivers of blood, his own and of other humans and monsters, in the name of serving the Empire and its people to the utmost of his abilities. But it truly wasn’t enough. There was still so much he could have done, so many people he could still save, and so many questions left unanswered.
So many of these regrets and unknowable emotions led back to that person. For a moment, the face Yuder thought he had long forgotten suddenly reappeared in his mind.
It was strange. He had long been numb to his broken limbs and shattered mana core, to the flayed skin and bruises, to all the suffocation and interrogation. But somehow, he still felt the ache in his chest so acutely, as if his heart had been freshly dug out. He knew it wasn’t a fresh wound; he recognized it as the same pain he had known nine years ago. And yet, to this day, he still didn't fully understand it or its source.
To the very end, he never understood Kishiar la Orr. He hardly even knew him.
Yuder did not resist as he was dragged to the execution platform. They laid him beneath the guillotine's blade as the crowd cheered and craned their necks to watch the high platform. Petals danced in the wind; the sky was a cloudless, brilliant blue canvas.
Has the sun always shone this bright on the world? Yuder felt he had been living in the dark for the past nine years.
+1
Yuder woke up to the sunlight filtering through the curtains, blinking as his dark eyes met the light. Beside him, Kishiar laid on his side, half sitting up. He watched Yuder's every movement as he woke up, as always. Feeling Kishiar’s gaze on him, partnered with that soft smile, Yuder couldn’t help but look at those eyes with a deep look as he processed his emotions.
“What is my adorable assistant thinking about?” Kishiar asked with a cute tilt of his head. His golden hair was still messy from having woken up not too long ago, but it looked effortlessly beautiful as the strands fell into his face.
Kishiar waited patiently through Yuder’s long silence, until he finally uttered, “I realized I never said it back to you.”
“Said what?”
Yuder's tone had barely changed, but Kishiar easily detected the wistful smile in his eyes as he said, “I'm grateful that you’re with me, that you’re alive.”
For a moment, Kishiar couldn't find his words. Based on his recent memory, he had been expecting to receive a small thanks, a flirtatious remark, or any of the mundane words of love they often exchanged between them. He quickly realized which moment Yuder was trying to reciprocate.
“You thanked me for enduring up to the moment I told you my secret, but…” In his brief hesitation, Yuder reached out to Kishiar's face, brushing the hair away from those red eyes with a gentle touch. “I wanted to thank you for not leaving this time.”
Kishiar fell into Yuder's caress. He knew that as it calmed the storm of emotions brewing within him, it also grounded Yuder as a thousand memories flashed through his mind. “When I think of how my past self thought of the Commander from the previous game, it's confusing. I thought of you as an enigma and an annoyance, and sometimes a source of guilt. But there was an emptiness I could never explain.”
“I know I must have lost some memories and emotions from our severed connection.” As they both thought of the inexplicable golden thread between them, the one that had been broken in the past, they could faintly see the golden threads of their current connection floating between them. Yuder closed his eyes. “But that definitely wasn't all.”
Regret, loss, grief. Kishiar could easily recognize the emotions behind those words. He wanted to comfort him, to kiss the corner of Yuder's eyes until they softened and he only knew warmth. But he let Yuder continue speaking, “Now that I know how it is to desire a future with you… I understand why everything from that past now seemed so hollow.”
Whether it was the Yudrein of the past or the Yuder of the present, he had been utterly changed by Kishiar la Orr—body, mind, and soul. But he had spent more time remembering Kishiar than knowing him. He thought it would be that way forever, with Kishiar haunting his life as a ghost of the past, revealing the traces he had imprinted on Yuder in all the tiniest things.
How fortunate he was, that he had been given a second chance to know Kishiar. A chance to know the truth of the man who had changed him, to relearn who he was beyond Yuder's faded memories of him, and to desire a future with him.
The golden threads floating around them, now too innumerable to count, tangled and untangled, as if responding to their fluctuating emotions.
“What must I do with you?” Kishiar's voice came out broken. That was all he could say to express the ache in his heart. When words failed him, he could only rely on touch to let these feelings reach the other person. He pulled Yuder into a tight embrace.
Yuder felt the other man's heartbeat, as fast as a hummingbird's wings, as if his chest were about to burst. They sank into each others’ touch, tangling into the blankets and sheets of the bed they had shared countless nights of warmth together. Yuder held on to Kishiar, running an arm down his back, until he felt his lover's heart slow down, until their hearts beat together in sync.
Their intimate touches melted into kisses so naturally. Kishiar’s lips traveled from Yuder’s forehead, to the lashes on his eyelids, to the tip of his nose, to the curve of his jaw, and finally to his lips. Kishiar smiled into their kisses, “I feel like I'm falling for you all over again.”
It hurt to be reminded of what Yuder suffered in the past, of the burdens he had to bear alone, and of the pain Kishiar had inflicted when he took his clean exit. Which is why it filled his heart with so much joy and love, that despite everything Yuder had remembered from that lifetime, he had only thought of cherishing Kishiar's life in the present, of how they were together now.
Kishiar was in awe of how the man who already held his entire heart only grew more amazing by the day. “I assure you, I have no intention of leaving the game early this time.”
A long time ago, this man had promised to accompany him on his path forever, winning Kishiar’s love and trust. This time, it was Kishiar’s turn to make his promise.
Kishiar brought their intertwined hands to his lips, kissing the back of Yuder's hand. “I promise to spend an eternity by your side.”