Temp dreamt of grey.
The smell of sulfur lingered in the air. In the distance, vast arrays of a jagged mountain scape scraped against the thin veil of clouds, piercing the white flesh and staining it an azure blue. Its rolling cliffs crashed into the rocky ground, tiny mounds forming on their boundaries like the recurring waves of the giant ocean surrounding them. Cold winds from their peaks stumbled down its slopes, lashing out at the environment.
The surface of the earth was a desolate wasteland, devoid of all life. Grass morphed into sharp needles, trees into granite pillars and animals shaped as perfect statues, as if frozen in time. At its center stood a humanoid figure, adorned in white and wreathed in blood–standing before a rift in space. Around it, multiple Wraiths lay, all of them cut and dismembered, bleeding horribly from each stump.
They were saved from the divine wasteland, but led to salvation by an equally terrifying messiah.
That messiah's gaze snapped onto Temp, its face a twisted mess of rotting…worms? Things?
Its body–hidden underneath that priestly getup–was equally ineffable, no doubt.
A smile appeared on its grotesque mask.
A solitary squeak of chalk sounded in the distance.
Temp shot up from his table, physically awake in class, mentally asleep in the embrace of his dream. A bead of sweat trickled down his pale face, his jet black eyes widening and scanning across the room, chasing every flicker of shadow. His long unkempt hair trailed behind him like a dying flame as his eyes darted back and forth. His breathing quickened, his arms patting his thin neck, as if checking for its presence.
Thank the Balance, it's still there.
"So, from his findings, Wraiths are the incarnation of past Trailblazers or monsters, with the most powerful ones being granted titles by the Balance before or after death based on their lives."
The voice grew distant and muffled. Reality rebuilt itself in patches–the gaudy classroom first, then the squeaking of chalk and weight of silent stares. Still in his reverie, any thought he could form was a fleeting and ethereal haze, its mist slipping out of his hands every time.
Why did that thing look right at me? That…that monster? Was it even a vision? A nightmare?
He was used to prophetic visions. Not nightmares.
Temp tried to steady his beating heart, its strong pulses like it could pop out of his ribs at any moment. He swallowed hard, dryness grazing his parched throat. The brown notebook in front of him sat open on the oak table, its empty expanse mocking him.
Now, the smell of sulfur was replaced by the smell of chalk, the harsh winds assaulting him from the mountaintops replaced by the gentle breeze of the overhead fans.
At the back, the drool of a half asleep student was painfully obvious, his notebook's cover page reluctant to turn. To his left and right, other classmates looked at him, their brows furrowed and gazes judging.
Before they could utter a word, a voice from the front of the room boomed, the female professor at the helm of the chalkboard shooting a dreadful look towards his end of the classroom.
"Solus! Do you want to continue the lecture for me?"
A moment of awkward silence ushered across the classroom, catching the dreaming boy who was still in a daze.
A cough echoed through the hall.
"No? Then focus. You're failing all your classes in case you need a reminder."
The silence grew deafening.
The white haired boy spun his pen, straightening up and adjusting his blue uniform but still not opening his wet notebook.
The tall professor continued her lecture, her purple dress flailing around as she turned back towards the blackboard.
"Null Zones–the region where Wraiths spawn–refer to textbook page thirteen…"
Temp's mind, however, was still stuck on that horrid image.
Petrified grass and pillars of stone, a crack in reality…a Null Zone? An apex Wraith? But nothing like it is mentioned in the textbooks.
Noticing his ambivalence, the professor lashed out yet again.
"Tempus! If you don't feel like paying attention then scram!"
He jolted up, an electric tinge surging up his body.
His lanky frame was now in full view, his crumpled uniform creased just slightly enough for empty room under his arms–like he had yet to grow into his mould–his disheveled demeanour now on full display for everyone to see.
His eyes met the young professor's, his body leaning forward and a light smile shimmering across his pale face.
Calm down, it's a nightmare…It's not real.
"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Tempus. Now as I was saying…"
Class continued as normal, the varied students in class each raising their hands obediently, each question asked elevating the understanding of the class being taught, General Knowledge for Trailblazers 101: Proper Echo Usage.
A particular student caught Temp's gaze. Her auburn hair sat gracefully upon her, cascading like a waterfall down to her waist. A stoic expression lay on her face, betraying no hint of emotion. Her eyes unmoving from the chalkboard.
Professor Lumi called upon her for most questions the class refused to answer, some due to embarrassment of getting it wrong, others simply not knowing.
This time was no different.
"So, Sid, could you summarise the content of pages one to twenty of the textbook for your fellow Blazers?"
Standing up, her figure was illuminated by the radiant light perfectly. Each feature of her detached face was highlighted by the incandescent light, as if she was the main character of a generic fantasy novel, her thin figure casting a deep shadow across the room.
Even her speech was that of an experienced combatant, strict and formal.
"Of course Professor Lumi. In summary, The Balance is an overseer of us Trailblazers, granting us Echoes based on how far we tread on our Paths and our personalities."
"Great, now, what are Echoes?"
"They are the fragments of past lives–what we call Wraiths. We make a deal with them in exchange for power. Sometimes it's fair, most times it's not."
"How wonderful! Thank you Sid, as expected from the wonderchild of our two headmasters. You're nothing like your brother!"
That last comment seemed to have triggered something in the girl.
At his mention, she subtly grit her teeth, lips tightening around them, her fists clenching into a tight ball. No one would have noticed this unless they had an abnormal perception of space.
Tough life, needing to fill in the shoes of another. I wonder how she feels under all that pressure.
"Anyways, that would be all for this class! Next class is on Paths, remember to bring the right textbooks."
Then, as if on cue, bells chimed.
However, it was not the bells of dismissal, but the bells of combat.
An automatic voice chimed over the PA.
"All students be wary. Section breach in Area Six, hostile Wraiths en route to Lecture Hall One include: Class I Rats and Wolves, Class II Goblins. Students are advised to fight Class I Wraiths solo, and form groups against Class II Wraiths."
An overly talkative student interrupted the system mid warning.
"Bah! Area six just stores a bunch of weak Class I and II, let's just go and fight them."
"…and the Class IV Wraith, Saviour of the East. Students are strongly advised to run on sight."
The room felt colder.
Temp's gaze flickered toward the hallway door, a chill creeping up his spine.
Surely it's not that thing…no, it can't be, it was already trapped in Area Six.
No amount of self delusion could chase away the lingering image of the messiah in his dreams. He had tried convincing himself it was a nightmare, but he knew the feeling of a vision all too well.
A murmur permeated the thick air.
"The Saviour of the East…Balance help us."
Sid remained aloof, her expression still showing no emotion.
She let out a small click.