Shadow Slave

Kai remained silent for a while, and then let out a heavy sigh. He looked away, picked up his charred wooden mask and stared at it for a few moments, then finally spoke:

"I was sent into the body of a centurion of the Sun Legion, the army of the Ivory City. The city… you must have seen it when we entered the Nightmare, rising from the ashes as the time flowed in reverse. It is a wondrous place… beautiful, peaceful, and full of life, with people who are warm, kind, and care deeply for their neighbors. Dozens of flourishing islands, all connected into a single whole by the aerial bridges and arching aqueducts built of white stone…"

The young man paused, grimaced, and took a sip of honey tea to smooth his aching vocal cords. Then, he glanced at the mask again, lingered for a moment, and continued:

"At least that was what I thought, at the start of it. Looking back, I was terribly naive… but it was so easy to be misled by how the Ivory City, and its people, appeared — especially by the stark contrast between the splendor of that enchanting facade and the barefaced vileness of those who wished to destroy it. The merciless, mad killers... Warmongers."

Kai shook his head.

"The people of the Ivory City are just like those we know in the waking world. They have the same values, the same ideals, the same regard for decency and human life… ah, now that I say it aloud, I realize they might be doing much better than us in that regard. My point is… is that they seemed nice. Their city was like a beautiful paradise... like a place that all human cities should strive to be. Was it so unexpected, then, that in this Nightmare, there was someone who wanted to destroy it?"

His eyes grew dim.

forces of evil to be. Merciless, cruel raiders that worshipped war, slaughter, and bloodshed, killing simply for the sake of killing. Their perverse fate, their zealous belief that by destroying the lives of innocent people they were delivering the gift of salvation to their victims… murderers and madmen,

man took another sip of tea, then put down the

of a grim fairy tale. A noble warrior tasked with protecting a beautiful paradise from the tide of evil. I mistakingly considered the fate of the Ivory City to be the true conflict of the Nightmare, and so convinced myself that protecting it was what we had been sent here to do. Unable to abandon my duty and reluctant to become a deserter, I remained with the

down and sighed

soon, I became known as a hero

moment, but then the young man restrained

the rest of you, I have never been a fearsome warrior. I have never been a dauntless leader of men, as well. My only real act of bravery was facing the Spire Messengers in the shadow

looked at them, lingered for a moment,

happen for decades, and sometimes, there are terrible battles happening every day. Sometimes, only mundane soldiers and Awakened officers fight each other, and sometimes,

a sip of tea, then continued in a neutral

a sudden shift from a prolonged period of relative calm to the start of a massive offensive

for a second, as though carefully choosing his

that warriors of this mythical era, when gods were still alive and magic permeated the world, were infinitely more knowledgeable, powerful, and proficient in battle than we, humans of the Waking World, are. But as it turns out, that is not so. Maybe a long time ago, during what they call the Age of Heroes, they had been. But now, most