Riche awoke to himself, lying on a grass field, with a persistent gnawing pain sharpening through his head. It felt unbearable at first, but after a few seconds, it began to lighten, releasing a feeling of relief through his body.
"Augh, my head."
A wind grazed his ear with a cool touch, feeling and sounding like a calming ocean breeze.
As he felt the wind, he opened his eyes, looking at a blue sky above him.
He didn't know where he was.
"Where… where am I?"
Using his hands, Riche pushed against the grass below him until he was sitting up.
"Wasn't it just the even-"
As his eyes glanced in front of him, he noticed the vast field of grass, full of swaying blades that moved gently with the wind. The sound they made was even more soothing than the wind alone.
Riche was amazed. No matter where he looked, there was only grass; nothing in the distance posed itself as visible; it was only the bright blue sky and the grass below him. It was endless!
However, when he turned his head around, in the corner of his eye, he noticed there was something other than the grass. He saw a range of mountains that spanned east and west, endless, just like the green below him. Though he could clearly see its size, the mountain range was distant, far away from where he was; it was like a painting in the distance.
Suddenly, a sharpness berated his head again, and he put his left hand to his temple, squinting his eyes tightly.
"Augh, what's happening?"
After a minute or two, the pain started to fade, and he opened his eyes again and scanned the field, noticing he wasn't the one there. There were hundreds of other people, no, thousands, thousands of others that all spread evenly.
He noticed the numbers growing, as one by one, people began to stand.
Each and every person looked different, like they were from different parts of the world. They all have different looks with their unique clothes or accessories. Some wore armor, some wore robes, some wore just normal clothes, and others, well, next to nothing. Obviously, some had their preferred ways to pass the night, but though they were different, they all shared one thing in common: the same look of confusion on their faces that even Riche wore.
Riche stood up, and as he did, a gust of wind heavier than the breeze erupted. Riche quickly put his hand on the top of his hat, closing his eyes as the wind spread across his face.
"Whoa, we don't get this in the city."
As he opened them, a shout echoed afar from a very confused man who seemed distressed.
"What the fuck is happening!? Where am I!?"
A few turned, including Riche, but no one made much of it, as they all shared the same thoughts as the man. Nobody knew what was going on; they had all been suddenly brought to this random location without warning.
People around Riche began to look around at each other, and some began to move to wander the field. Some had their patience, though, and just stood still waiting for someone or something to explain what was going on.
Eventually, from the people who began to move, some talking erupted.
Riche listened to a conversation that was behind him. He heard a man and a woman talking, both clearly confused. The two discussed where they were, and by listening to each other's explanations, they both knew they had no idea. One of them said something about an annoying ringing noise that hurt to listen to, and the other mentioned the sky turning green.
Hearing these, Riche batted an eye and turned to face the two.
The two looked quite young, but still older than him. The man had a darker skin tone, and the woman had a paler skin tone matching his. Despite these, they seemed like normal people; nothing about them seemed special at all.
So, I wasn't the only one who saw that sky. Everyone here must be in the same situation then. I'm glad I'm not alone in this.
He turned back around and began scanning his eyes across the field. He still felt confused. He had determined one thing, but that led to nothing.
He sighed and began muttering to himself as he stared down, with his hand across his mouth.
"What should I do now? There's nothing here and no information to point to where we are. There are people around me. Maybe I should talk to them. But, hearing some of them talk, they don't seem to know anything. Should I just wait? I mean, a guide could come, but is that likely? I don't know."
Forcing his eyes back to the field, he looked up and then to the sun, feeling its heat that lay on the field. He pulled the collar of his shirt forward, loosening it slightly, then took off his hat, ran his right hand through his sticky hair, and then snugly fit his hat back on.
The sun is starting to blaze; I shouldn't stand idly anymore.
Turning his sights back to the people around, he noticed people starting to leave; some went straight, hoping to find something, and others wandered.
Desperate to get away from the sun, Riche began walking wherever he could; he didn't know which direction he was headed, but it didn't matter since there were no directives.
Unfortunate for Riche, the direction he headed was the one that was furthest away from anything else.
Minutes passed while Riche walked, and all he found were the faces of new people and the same grass that he'd been walking on all this time.
As he continued walking, he saw a mass of people in the distance, but he couldn't tell what was going on. He assumed maybe people just formed a group to discuss things, or maybe a fight had broken out.
Still, he was curious, and being so, he approached the mass.
As he got closer, he saw the truth behind the mass. He saw around 50 people circling around a small spot of grass where someone seemed to stand in the center.
Clearly, it was something interesting, as there were people at the outer part of the crowd desperately trying to see who was center; they tried standing on their toes, they tried jumping, but couldn't yet see.
Riche approached a man in the outer crowd who held a disappointed face, asking him:
"What's with the crowd, sir?"
The man looked up and Riche and shrugged.
"I heard there was someone famous in the center, but I don't know who it is. These people are too unforgiving."
Hearing this, Riche's curiosity grew, and he tried getting on his toes, peeping over people, but he couldn't see anything but the backs of people's heads.
He came back down to his feet.
"You really can't see anything."
"I told you, man."
Riche didn't give up, though, and with his curiosity getting the best of him, he shoved his way through, parting his way through the crowd.
He felt the pressure from all sides, and eventually, he made his way through, but when he reached the front, he felt a push from behind, causing him to stumble forward.
Recovering, he looked up, and a rise of surprise coursed through him, seeing a woman clad in a light set of deep black armor that wrapped around her thin body.
She was slightly shorter than he, and she had straight, silky black hair that draped over the back of her armor.
Hearing a shout behind her, the woman turned around and noticed Riche in front of her.
Their eyes met, and Riche became mesmerized.
Her face had a beautiful pale glow; she had the smoothest skin in all of existence, clearer than Riches and even more majestic. Her eyes were even more stunning, with a purple reminiscent of a lavender.
Her beautiful expression looked into Riche's eyes, noticing a blushing redness that filled his face with a burning heat. She opened her mouth, parting her soft lips slightly, and spoke, at first releasing a soft voice that matched her appearance:
"You…" Then she raised her voice, revealing a fierceness that deceived itself under her beauty, "even all of you surrounding me! Step away before I paint this field full of your blood!"
Though she had such a beautiful appearance, her manner was demanding, much different from her face.
Riche stared for a moment, blinking in confusion. He was surprised by her change in voice; he didn't believe that such a face could have a fierceness to it.
"Um… pardon?"
He blinked a few times, then suddenly heard a rummaging from all around him.
Quickly, everyone surrounding the woman had dispersed, except for Riche, who stared into the woman's alluring eyes.
Hearing the scrambling, his eyes turned past the woman's face, looking to the people behind her, who seemed distanced away.
He became even more confused.
What's happening?
He felt left out of something. He didn't know who this woman was, but everyone else did; it seemed like he was the only one without an idea of her identity. Was he supposed to know who she was?
Seeing Riche still in front of her, the woman's face angered, so she reached down to her waist, where a black sheath attached itself, then she grasped onto the hilt of the sword encased inside. She pulled the sword slightly out from the sheath, revealing part of a long black blade that shone like a night.
It was a mesmerizing piece; it was pure, solid, but terrifying.
The blade emitted a dark smoke like an expanding void that wanted to hide anything it touched, even if nothing was in its way. To anyone within its range, it felt like an inescapable death, as it would seep into their souls, eventually taking over their bodies with fear, rendering attempts to move useless.
Being within proximity, Riche felt his body weaken. A force was draining the life out of him, the smoke emitted from the blade was forming a numbness that forced his nerves to feel nothing but a tingling feeling that froze him in place. He tried moving away from the woman, but couldn't; only his eyes moved, which suddenly twitched rapidly as the woman shouted again.
"You, unless you want to die, move!"
Her presence grew horrifying to Riche; to him, she wasn't human. She was a demon.
His voice shook as he tried to plead with the woman.
"Wait, wait! D-don't approach! I-I didn't mean anything bad! I don't even know who you are!"
The woman's face inched closer to his, and her eyes widened.
"Clearly, you do, and so did all the others who tried surrounding me. I can see it in your face, your eyes, you're lying to me. Now step back."
Riche's heart started beating fast.
"M-miss, I can't! M-my body can barely move, I'm even struggling to just talk. P-please, don't kill me! I want to live!"
Of course, she knew this. Only a few have ever been able to maintain composure within the vicinity of her exposed blade, but they were only the strong, and Riche was far from being strong.
She closed her eyes.
"Unfortunate, then…"
She took a step back, pulled the black sword completely out of its sheath and held it horizontally across her chest, shining its crow darkness to Riche's eyes, causing him internally to panic.
No, no, no!
The woman opened her eyes, then uttered the last words she would ever speak to Riche:
"Best of luck. I hope death gives you comfort."
She threw her arms forward, striking towards Riche's neck as a blur of darkness followed the blade.
Suddenly, a familiar chime rang, the same one Riche had heard in his shop, and a blue book appeared between the two followed by a small green light that disappeared in an instant.
Huh?
As it appeared, quickly, the blade collided with it in a dense force, sending a sharp pain through the woman's hand, causing her to grunt loudly.
"Argh!"
She felt like it had hit a steel wall that couldn't be damaged.
The woman staggered, and the black glow that surrounded her blade faded, reducing itself back to its original silver glisten.
The hands of fear that had enshrouded Riche's body dispersed, and he quickly came back to his senses.
Ultimately, he was confused at first, but rapidly realized that he could move again, and without a second thought, he bent down, grabbed the book from the grass, and quickly scurried back into the empty field, distancing himself into the dispersed crowd of onlookers.
Seeing this, the woman tried reaching her sword out to stop him, but stopped her blade short of its extension, sheathed it, and turned her gaze downcast.
"Lucky man…"
As the pain lingered, the woman looked to her right hand in front of her, clenched it tightly, then opened it.
"That thing, that man… dispersed my detail. Has there ever been such a person to block my strike? Even if it was just a slow one such as that? I can't remember… I guess it's been too long…"
She looked up from her hand, and to the people surrounding her, noticing their siding eyes that still glared at her.
"Do these people not understand that it's not a time to fond over someone? This situation is dire."
She paused for a moment, then sighed, shaking her head.
"Hopefully, Hawk finds me soon; we need to discuss this."
Meanwhile, Riche was still running, as far as his breath could take him. He ran for a distance until he turned around to face the woman and then stopped.
She wasn't looking at him anymore; in fact, she had no more interest at all.
Riche felt relieved.
fuck that was close, too close.
His breaths were quick.
Who was she? I felt like I was going to die. That sword, that darkness, whatever it was, it was disgustingly awful! And the same could be said for her temper.
Riche took a deep breath, returning his breathing to normal. He then looked down to his hands, where he held the book out in front of him.
"This thing saved me, somehow…"
He felt an uneasiness in his stomach, so he looked back up for a second, making sure the woman wasn't approaching, then put his attention back on the book.
He flipped the book over and began examining it, noting its blue cover and spine, as well as the silver lettering that his eyes glossed over as he read aloud:
"The Chaos That Is, by The God."
It was an odd title, and even the author's name was weird. Riche felt confused for a moment before he recalled back to the book he was reading back at his store.
It's the book, the one the Archivist had in the story… but the title has changed? I'm sure it said, 'The Chaos That Was', not 'The Chaos That Is'... The pen name is the same, though.
Hmm… why do I have it? Why is it here with me? How did it appear out of thin air right in front of me? Am I in the book?
There were too many unanswered questions that rampaged through his mind. Riche was overly confused; he could only think of the possibilities, but could never settle on one.
He took a deep breath, then exhaled, calming his rampant mind.
No, no. I'm getting too ahead of myself. I can't determine that off this single detail, but then again, where am I?
He kept his sight on the book, and with his right hand to its side, he tried opening it… But it wouldn't budge, so he tried again. But still nothing happened, the book, its pages, they were rock solid. Though they had the look of paper and that rough texture pages would have, it was like they were something else, something much harder.
Why isn't it opening?
As Riche was deep in thought, a tall man started walking towards him from a distance. He had short blonde hair, ocean blue eyes, and a handsome face that could shock the heart of any woman.
The armor he wore was dark gray, similar in style to the woman's but much wider to match his body.
The man talked, but didn't direct his words to anyone. He was more or so displaying his thoughts in his words, speaking just to himself.
"Ah, that was an interesting sight, I didn't expect that man to block the mistress's attack."
His voice had an accent of elegance, like he was someone of high class.
He continued approaching Riche, who was still unaware of his presence, and as he got closer, he put his right hand on Riche's shoulder, startling him into a slight jump.
"Whoa!"
Riche quickly turned around, clearly shaken.
He was greeted by a flash of brightness coming from the man's pearly white teeth.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you there."
The man had flashed a bright smile to Riche, signaling that he meant no harm.
Startled and confused, Riche asked:
"W-who are you?"
The man continued to smile, then let out his right hand, wanting Riche to take it.
"The name's Theo Fline."
As the man stood there with his hand out, Riche felt a barrage of eyes piercing him from all around.
People were looking at them, more specifically, the man. It seemed like everyone knew who he was, and similar to how he seemed left out of the woman's identity, Riche had no idea who the man was.
He heard the whispers the people were saying, but they all seemed to be directed towards him, annoying him slightly.
But, not wanting to be rude to the man, Riche hesitantly took his hand and shook it.
"Archivist," he responded.
Theo raised an eyebrow.
"Your name is, Archivist?"
Riche nodded.
It felt strange to be introducing himself as 'Archivist' outside of the store. In the past, when going out for food or any necessity, he commonly introduced himself with his real name, 'Riche', but this time, Riche had blurted out his 'Archivist' alias, feeling the pressure of the eyes surrounding him.
However, not wanting to waste the man's time since he seemed to be some big shot or someone potentially famous, he stuck with it, branding himself as 'Archivist' to him.
"That's quite an odd name… Well then, Mr. Archivist, I have a quick question for you…"
"Go ahead."
"How did you block that attack? You don't seem like someone with much strength, so how?"
At first, a hesitancy took over Riche, and he didn't answer.
He didn't see it? If he didn't, then did anyone? Should I tell him about the book?
Instead, he posed a question as his response, trying to bring out the reason for asking.
"Why the interest?"
Theo tilted his head slightly to the right and smiled again.
"We're all curious men, aren't we? So how did you block it?"
He's right, even my curiosity got the best of me… it almost cost me my life…
Riche sighed.
"If you insist, sir."
Though he had an idea of what happened, Riche wanted to keep the book a secret from anyone else, so he told a somewhat obvious lie he thought was proof.
"I don't know exactly how it happened, but it was like something had miraculously blocked it, some sort of invisible force."
"Really?"
Riche nodded.
"It was confusing to me as well, but I didn't want to die, so once I felt a change, I ran away, ignoring what had just saved me."
Theo could tell Riche was lying; his tone had changed, and he felt more straightforward, as if to hide his nervous tells.
He let out a slight chuckle that barely lasted, then leaned in closely to Riche's left ear and whispered intently:
"that was a clever but obvious attempt you made there. but, you can't hide it from me… I saw it, that book of yours took the strike for you, it was very impressive. don't panic, though. I know well that I was the only one who saw it, so I suggest you keep it hidden, unless you want to get torn to shreds by these incarnations of greed surrounding us. Something capable of such an action would surely be desirable, am I right?"
Startled, Riche twisted his eyes to his left and nodded very slightly.
"correct."
Theo smiled.
"I'm glad you understand. you sure are an interesting man, Archivist, so I hope we can someday meet again. I'm counting on it."
"what?"
Theo lifted his head back, then walked by Riche, patting him on the shoulder twice as he left him staring blankly.
He wants to meet again? But, I didn't do anything…
Turning around, Riche suddenly shouted:
"Wait, Mr. Fline!"
Theo turned around.
"Yes, Archivist?"
"Who was that woman?"
"You don't know her?"
Riche shook his head
"She is the Crow, of course!"
Theo turned back around and continued walking away.
The Crow…
Riche tried remembering where he had heard that name before.
"the crow… the crow… the crow…"
He repeated the name multiple times, but couldn't remember where he heard the name. It felt so familiar, yet it was distant. He felt he knew exactly who she was, but didn't know anything.