Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Old friend

Chapter 3: Old friend

"Well, now that I delivered my message. I'll be going ahead first. I still have a few people to check on." Said Trixy as she dusted her clothes and retrieved her fallen blades. 

Amon was still seated on the forest ground with his back to a tree. His gaze was on the broken moon as he softly muttered. "You know, Trixy. There once was a time when the moon was whole. I never really paid it much heed before, thinking of it as the norm. It was very beautiful." 

Hearing that a soft sigh escaped Trixy's lips as she moved to help him to his feet. "Come on now, old man. I can't have you going all sentimental on me." 

Shaking his head, Amon chuckled before replying, "I'm just tired little one. I'm sure the others are as well. That's if any of us are still left out there." 

"Of course there are. Maybe not as many as before. But they are out there alright." She answered with a reassuring smile. 

"Where are you heading?" He asked, turning to face her. 

"Down south to Fas. Last I heard, Lance was seen, by their borders." 

"Careful down there. That kingdom hates our kind with passion. If they find out you're associated with us, then it won't be pretty." He sighed. His hand subconsciously tapped on the gold sack hanging on his waist. 

"Haha, that much I know. What I don't know, however, is what Lance is doing over there." She answered with a shake of her head. 

"Anyways, you take care, old man. I'll see you back home." With those final words, Trixy's figure morphed into the shadows of the forest and disappeared. 

Amon watched her go with a complicated gaze on his face. A soft mutter escaped his mouth. "Lance..." Memories he longed to forget resurfaced, opening the old wounds in his heart once again. 

For a moment, he stood there unmoving. His golden eyes, seemingly reminiscing old memories. Lowering his gaze, Amon slowly brought his hands closer to his face. 'You have to do it! We have no other choice! Amon!' Voices of people long gone overlapped in his mind, causing him to clench his fists in pain. 

He thought that he was over it. After all those years, they had won the war. But at what cost? So many people lost. Those that remained were cursed to roam the land for eternity. Divinity they called it, a fancy name for such cursed power. Time was not kind to any of them. All of those years made most go mad. 

Amon recalled it all. Friends losing control and flattening cities and kingdoms. Others chose to take their own lives before it escalated. How many did he lose? He lost count. Once, they were hailed as heroes, and saviors of humanity. The notion still makes him laugh. Now, however. He let out a long sigh, pushing the memories back to the corner of his mind. 

Now was not the time to wallow in memories of the past. Amon had a long journey ahead of him. The old man had never summoned everyone back. Not after the war against the abyss was over, Amon could only think of two reasons he might do such a thing, and neither was pretty. 

Either the old man had reached his wit's end and was on the verge of losing control. This Amon, doubted, for he knew of the old man's strength and will the most. The second reason was one he never wanted to think of again. 

"The abyss. I hope I'm wrong, and the old man simply missed our faces, though I doubt it." With a sigh, Amon's body suddenly turned into glowing light particles that disappeared and reappeared at the edge of the forest. 

A frown was on his face as he scanned his surroundings. His mind was in turmoil as he finally used his powers. After all of those years, it still felt the same. A bitter taste was in his mouth. The reason he tended to avoid his powers was the same many Abyss dwellers did. The memories of the war it carried with them. 

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It was akin to opening an old wound. One that was better left untouched. No Abyss dweller was free of regrets, and that was especially so for those of them that survived this long. Their powers were akin to a double-edged sword. Misuse it, and they would descend into madness. 

It made sense, for it was a power gifted by the abyss. It had no place in the realm of mortals. Staring at the distance. Amon's eyes glowed in the darkness as his gaze studied the large city standing atop the hill. His body once again turned into faint golden light particles that drifted in the sky. 

Flying over the large walls. No one seemed to catch sight of his figure. Amon then made his way east, where the slums were situated. He silently passed another wall that caged the slums inside their district and flew towards a particularly secluded alley. His body materialized, leaving faint golden light particles behind. The sudden smell made him scowl in disgust. 

Shaking his head, Amon muttered under his breath, "Some things never change." 

Glancing at the wall in front of him. Amon's eyes glowed brighter as he scanned it for a couple of seconds. "Found it," He muttered in a low voice.

Coating his hand with golden light, Amon then rested his palm on a certain brick on the left side of the wall. The moment he did, the wall suddenly turned incorporeal as a portal of sorts appeared. Without hesitation, Amon stepped inside. The portal silently closed behind him, reverting the alley to its previous state. 

Coming out of the portal. Amon's face relaxed as he glanced at the empty marketplace before him with a nostalgic expression. The place he appeared at was called the underground market. Once upon a time, one could find all manners of treasures and herbs circulating here. It used to be a bustling place, yet now, it was depressingly empty. 

The large street, which could easily support three wagons moving side by side, was now desolate. The stalls at the sides had long since collapsed. Raising his head, Amon glanced at the ceiling with complicated emotions. There, what looked like large magical crystals shined brightly, illuminating the empty street below. 

For a while, Amon stood there with his eyes closed. It felt like it was still yesterday when he, alongside his companions, built this place. It was supposed to be a secret haven of sorts for Abyss dwellers. Here, they sold and traded magical artifacts, celestial weapons, divine herbs, and information. Everything was once available. 

The street itself was in a pocket dimension. One completed, with dozens of Abyss dwellers coming hand in hand. All of that, however, was gone now. They had fulfilled their mission. And few of them now remained scattered across the planet. A long sigh escaped Amon's mouth as the dark thoughts he struggled to keep at bay came rushing. 

'Maybe, it would have been better to die on the battlefield. At least back then, they were all together. After another sigh, Amon quickly shook his head and made his way toward a small building at the end of the street. Years have passed since he came here, yet he knew that although everyone has already left, 'that' person was still there. 

Standing before the timeworn building. Amon's heart sped up as he sensed a familiar presence inside. His hand reached out to the door, yet before he could, a sudden gust of wind swung it open. A smile subconsciously made its way to his face.

"It's been a while." 

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