The bustle and cheers of Augustine rang like church bells through the night. Leo, a younger man then, walked amongst these crowds draped in the black and gold uniform of a proper Reveur, a large sheathe resting aside his waist. Crimson stains remain subtle on his leather gloves.
Bystanders spread the word of his appearance like gospel.
"That's him, isn't it?"
"Definitely him… The Reaper."
The irritation of the gossip grew as he abruptly decided to take a detour through a quieter set of streets. Perhaps then he could think in silence.
It had only been days since the war in Windcrest met its conclusion, the incident itself seeming to somehow raise Leo's reputation.
He didn't understand this—the fact that the meaningless death of tens of millions could spark such fireworks in these people's "souls".
Sure, they would reap the benefits of the war—any and all remaining supplies being brought into Augustinian hands—But he could tell that wasn't what they cheered for. It was the slaughter itself they celebrated.
Leo had never understood the position of kings and emperors.
Not because they lacked conviction—
but because they lacked the individual power to back it.
They couldn't make others bleed for their cause.
So, instead…
they sent Men.
Men with wives. Men with children.
Men with dreams.
Men who bleed.
But… perhaps it was never about bringing forth that change themselves. Maybe a king's true purpose lied in making the people feel as though that slaughter was necessary in the first place.
He didn't think too hard on the subject, only casually entertaining the idea out of boredom and slight curiosity.
He was thrown out of his head as the bittersweet scent of coffee reached his nose, his eyes wandering to the source.
A humble cafe that seemed to double as a small library of sorts. The rustic, cabin-like design of the establishment fit neatly between two larger buildings.
He stared at it for a few moments, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia for something he was only seeing for the first time.
Turning back to the street, he continued to walk for some paces before a sudden pressure clutched his wrist for a moment—a stiff, unnatural grip like a doll's hand. The cold, wooden texture unnerving him.
Shooting his head in the direction, he found nothing, the grip seeming to simply vanish.
He looked around for moments, considering the possibility of insanity, his eyes landing on the cafe once more.
His curiosity grew much larger than before, a certain familiarity luring him towards it.
After moments of hesitation, he walked to the front of the small coffee shop, gently opening the door.
Small bells rang above his head as he ducked through the doorway, walking in and being met with the scent of dust-covered books and warm coffee.
A young woman's voice rang out from around the bookshelves, "One moment, please!"
Leo stood there, looking around. The dim, warm lights created a comfortable atmosphere. He couldn't imagine himself coming here often, but it was nice.
A woman with long chestnut brown hair had stumbled around the corner with a stack of books in her hands, her hair kept in a long braid that drooped over her left shoulder. Her pale, freckle-ridden skin contrasted with her ocean blue irises.
Her eyes had widened at seeing him, setting her books down.
"You're…"
As she spoke, he prepared himself to hear that ridiculous title.
"You're Leo, yes?"
Leo was taken aback momentarily, surprised to be referred to by anything other than that ridiculous name the populous had made up.
His unintentional silence had made her grow awkward as she scrambled for more words, hoping to grow the conversation,
"You work with my father, the General."
He blinked a few times before finally responding, "Ah, yes. You're… erm…"
"Charlotte. Charlotte Morwyn," she said with a bright smile.
Leo's eyes slightly widened.
"Morwyn…? Are you perhaps General Pierre's daughter?"
She sighed.
"Yes, yes. I'm from an oh so important family. I've heard it a million times."
Leo sat there in awkward silence.
Some moments passed before she cleared her throat with a small cough and asked, "Well? You are?"
"Leo."
"I know that, silly. You're last name?"
"I… don't have one."
She seemed a bit perplexed by this, the idea of someone not having a last name.
"Well how could that be possible? You do have a family, no? Oh! Are you some sort of runaway? Are you escaping the binds of royalty? How intriguing! I promise I won't tell!"
She stammered, seeming to enjoy the dramatic idea. Leo thought for moments before responding,
"Your father told you how he found me, correct?"
She looked up into her head, thinking for moments as the memory seemed to hit her.
"Ah, yes. Well, I only know you were found a few miles South of Augustine. I know that you're strong but it still baffles me how you survived out there with all those nasty Cryptids…" she trailed off.
"It was… doable. Although, I can't recall anything before I had woken up in that… church."
"A church?"
"Correct. Weeks before your father and his men found me, I had just found myself sleeping in the ruins of some strange church. I've planned to go back but… I never found the time."
She went silent for moments, deep in thought.
"A church South of Augustine… The only place that comes to mind is maybe a few in Calenburn as they seem to practice both Animas and Aetheris… But I doubt you were in their walls. Emperor Cedrick would've forcefully recruited you or killed you."
Leo shrugged.
"I guess I'm lucky General Pierre found me in time.
She sighed.
"You know you don't need to call him that around me, right? How about you try dropping the honorifics?"
His eyes lingered on her as he spaced out in thought.
"Sure. I could try that, I suppose."
"Good. You can start by telling me what you dislike about my father the most."
Leo cocked his eyebrow in confusion.
"What? Why would I do that?"
"We're in a book cafe! This place is essentially built for relaxing. Not for all those silly Reveur matters."
Pierre's upright attitude towards anything and everything was a hard contrast with his daughter's much more defiant nature.
"Pierre mentioned having a daughter once. I imagined she would've been much more… proper."
Her brows furrowed as she lightly barked back, "What? You don't think I'm proper enough?"
Leo stammered to put his hands up in defence.
"No! It's not that! I just… imagined you would be much more boring, is all."
Her face softened as she stared at him in silence.
She chuckled to herself quite a bit after that, leaving Leo with even more confusion than before.
"What's so funny?"
"You're very strange."
Leo's gaze wandered to the rows of countless books.
She followed his gaze and beamed, excited to share her passion, "Are you interested in tales?"
He shook his head.
"I've never read anything outside of orders."
She pouted, putting her hands on her hips.
"Well that just won't do. Here, come now. I'll have you read this place from top to bottom!"
Leo's gaze turned to her as if she were insane, causing her to choke on her breath.
"Just a joke, of course! I haven't even done that myself. It's not like I'm the Prince of Axiom."
Leo cocked an eyebrow at her words, curiosity in his voice as he inquired, "Prince of Axiom?"
She nodded, "Yeah, Prince of Axiom! Have you not heard of it? It's one of the greatest stories ever told! At least in my opinion…" She mumbled the last part.
He slowly turned, his eyes lingering on a chair for a moment before he sat down.
Charlotte took this as a sign that he wanted to hear more of this tale. She rushed over to the shelves, seeming to remember the exact location of the novel.
She pulled a large book, dusting off its cover and sitting down beside Leo.
Leo noticed the difference in height. He was quite surprised to see someone comparable to his own height. Being around six feet and eight inches, he usually towered amongst crowds. She was only a few inches shorter though.
She plopped the book on her lap.
"I don't want to keep you here for hours to read all of it, but would you like a recap?"
Leo reciprocated the eye contact as she looked at him, hesitantly nodding.
"If my memory serves me, it recounts the life of a writer trying to help his child through an illness.
He spends day and night writing tales to weave together what he calls the perfect story. The twisted mind of the writer seems to have thought this perfect story would somehow bring his child into a different realm.
The Endless Library of Axiom, he calls it. Describing it as a place with endless realities, contained within books. And, in at least one of them, he wouldn't die."
Leo found himself drawn in by her words, the tale sparking some sort of long-lost wonder within himself.
"So… what happens after he makes the perfect story?"
She shook her head, "He doesn't. His child died before he could. Convinced that it was his own fault, the writer set out to consume souls—turning them into stories in this 'endless library'.
Until, at last… he became The Book-Faced Prince of Axiom."
Leo, eyes wide in amusement, stared at Charlotte. He felt a strange, unfamiliar tightness in his chest. He felt bad. Or perhaps, sympathetic. Yet how could he? He hadn't gone through anything like that.
Yet.
Handing the thick book to Leo, she smiled.
"We're about to close, so keep this. Just make sure to return it sometime."
Leo gripped the book as he stared at its cover. The title displayed in dusted gold.
"How do you know I'll return?"
"I just do."
Some time later, he left the cafe, book in hand. He examined the novel thoroughly, seeing the near countless pages.
This filled him with an emotion he had never felt before. Wonder. Curiosity. To see what brought the writer to his edge.
He was thrown out of these thoughts as sirens filled the skies. A warning to the civilians and a call to the Reveurs.
He took a deep breathe in annoyance, for once hoping that he would've had the evening
In an instant, Leo channelled Somnia into his legs, bursting off the ground and into the sky, leaving a massive thunderclap in his trail.
He carefully landed atop the middle of three spires on a massive, gothic cathedral. Gripping the hilt of his longsword, the blade revealed itself from its sheath in a flurry of embers, engulfing its steel length in a raging inferno.
Swiping the air, his blade left behind a blazing trail of embers.
His amber eyes glowed as he focused more Som into his blade, the flames crackling and burning faster and more potently.
His gaze pierced a massive creature making its way over the North walls of section two. From where he stood, it seemed to be a Chupacabra, a Rhan-rank Cryptid notable for its blood-bending abilities.
The hairless, quill covered appearance of the grotesque mongrel-like creature sent shivers down his spine.
Not shivers of fear, but thrill, for the only way he knew how to feel alive was with a scorching blade in hand.
Leo's eyes turned to his right, meeting Caspian who stood on a second, lower spire.
On a third spire to his left, he then turned to see Raymond. A dependable man with long, black curls that flowed over light-brown skin, his emerald green eyes returning Leo's gaze.
With a nod from Leo, Raymond focused his Som into a ring. The ring glowed a brilliant purple as Raymond soared through the sky and high above the Cryptid, seeming to simply defy gravity.
This was Raymond's art. The art to create any construct with the properties of any affinity, in this case using a Spatium ring to keep himself in the air.
Or at least this is what Leo thought it was.
Through the sparks of imagination, Raymond manifested a whistle out of nothing, blowing this whistle and causing the Chupacabra to throw its head around in painful confusion.
The hairless beast averted its attention from the civilians within the walls and up towards the spec above.
Raymond dismissed the whistle into nothing before putting a hand out, making a clutching motion with his fingers.
With this a staggeringly massive construct of metal came to be—the iron strips slithering around the Chupacabra like constricting boas.
The Cryptid let a shattering roar out, causing the blood to rise out of several corpses and float into the sky before turning into spears.
The spears shot towards Raymond at inconceivable speeds, leaving him only enough time for his eyes to notice the assault from below.
Right before the spears could reach his flesh though, they were destroyed and evaporated in a clash of sparks and embers. Raymond turned to see Leo who was still several hundred feet away, atop the spire.
Raymond nodded and looked back down, focusing more Somnia on restricting the beast as Caspian leaped down towards the beast.
As he fell, his eyes gleamed a bright silver as he threw his hand down in a motion.
Moments passed before a dozen rods of iron, at least weighing a few thousand tons each, split the skies as they emerged from the clouds like meteors from the heavens.
The air howled from the acceleration, shockwaves ringing out moments before the impact.
The rods hammered into the Chupacabra's skull with a blinding explosion, releasing a massive thunderclap of sound and light into the skies.
The body of the Cryptid fell backwards and out of the walls, landing with the rumble of an earthquake.
Several minutes later, the dust and clouds of blood had settled as Leo stared down at the carnage left behind.
Sliding his blade into its sheath as the flames extinguished, Leo snapped out of the memories.
He was still holding the uniform in front of himself before the tall mirror.
He had already decided.