The Eldrim Cards Legacy

Chapter 238: Crossroads



Accompanying Nero and the rest to a memorial service was actually the brightest part of his week so far.

The service was not actually an event for a specific time. Instead, for ten days they had put up pictures of all the staff and the students who had passed during the war, and people could come and leave kind words or remarks. At the end of the ten days, all the remarks that were left behind would be collected, and then engraved onto a monument that would be erected in the school grounds.

It was standard practice. All the schools within Kolar would be doing something similar, as well as every other government run institution. That meant orphanages, police stations, some farms and so on. The actual army itself had other ways to commemorate the dead.

"What\'s the news about the war?" Nero asked as the group walked through the relatively empty grounds of the school. It was not completely empty, but there were only a few people here and there, all of them dressed formally.

"The real situation? Who knows," Harold said casually. "My Pa says that the war was just a powershow, to make sure no one interferes with the ruin explorations, which is probably true. No one is happy about it, that\'s for sure, but no one is coming after Kolar either."

"Even if someone wanted to come after us, it wouldn\'t be so easy," Wendy said. "I heard that ever since the silver moon appeared, the number of curse appearances have skyrocketed across Neire. There\'s also the psychos from Clear Path. I have a cousin who works in the Foreign Office.

He told me that the Clear Path freaks actually tried to kidnap someone from the Ayubi family, which enraged the old Sage Patriarch of the family. I think they\'re angrier about that than the actual war."

"They got what they deserved," said Maverick. "I\'m glad they finally know what it feels like to have criminals running around in their country, messing everything up."

The Ayubi family, the royal family of Dolziya, who had a monopoly on the space element, were known sponsors of all kinds of illegal activities throughout Neire. They\'re even rumoured to offer asylum to criminals and crooks, so long as the laws they broke were in some other country.

"Even though the war is over, security on the borders has increased," Gabriel finally spoke. "The papers are also filled with stories of new war heroes. Today, there was even an article on Nero."

As if to prove his words, Gabriel pulled out a news clipping and showed it to everyone. It was a small article mentioning how Nero single handedly saved the son of Dagon Thomas, Commander of the Eastern Front, though details were scarce because of how confidential the mission was.

Most of the article was focused on how the corrupt judge, who had now been executed, was actually targeting future Kolari talents as if to cripple a generation. The story was more of a political piece than anything else.

"They\'re most probably just trying to distract from the number of dead soldiers," Nero said after he looked through the article. "They\'re forging heroes using the blood of thousands."

"Everyone knows it," Hansel said with a shrug. "I got a letter in the mail. The next two batches in KMA will completely be made up of those who participated in the draft since they did active service. But all I did was sit in a room and make cards. So did hundreds of others. But many of us will be attending KMA, starting out with honours."

"I wonder if they\'ll let me join with honours after my service is over," Nero mused.

Their conversation continued until they reached the auditorium, which was filled with countless pictures of all those who had passed. As soon as Nero stepped in, he paused. The very first picture in front of him was of Felipe - one of Nero\'s roommates. He had wanted to be a Curse hunter.

Under his picture it read that the cause of death was being caught in the crossfire of a fight between two Arcanists.

One by one, Nero went through all the pictures in the room, looking for people he knew. In one situation, he discovered that the picture didn\'t match the name of the person who was killed, and pointed it out to a staff member. Whether the person in the picture died, the one whose name was used died, or both did, was a mystery that would have to be solved by the administrative staff.

There were a lot more pictures than Nero anticipated. At the end of the hall was a small plaque that read:

\'In the year 997 V, 302 students of Mount Aiden entered the draft. 121 gave their lives in the line of duty, exploring the Lumina ruins.\'

Considering that not everyone drafted was sent into the ruins, and that many were used for logistical or auxiliary purposes such as Maverick and Hansel, 121 dead students was a very high number.

Nero stood in front of that plaque for a long time. The number of the total dead had not been made public yet. Considering he had grown up believing in Kolari honour, believing in the saying that \'the death of a Kolari is written, and it is on the battlefield,\' he should have looked at that number with pride.

He should have boldly claimed that one day, he too would join among the ranks of those who died a true warrior.

Nero had heard stories of various religions that believed that unless one died in battle, they would not enter heaven. He did not believe in religion, but that was one that every Kolari could get behind.

But as it was, he just felt empty. It was strange. It wasn\'t as if those students had died in some conspiracy - they had literally died so that the country could explore the ruins. Their deaths were more meaningful than many others. Yet for some reason, Nero just couldn\'t get behind that notion anymore.

Who were these people he was dying for? The corrupt, who were taking advantage of the masses? Or the foolish, who were being used and herded like cattle?

It was a strange thought. Nero had not lost his conviction, but something about that saying just sounded wrong to him. He was a Kolari. He was a warrior. His place was on a battlefield, he knew that much deep in his bones.

So then what about it did he no longer resonate with? He was not one to fear death, so then what was it that had changed?

No answer came to him at that time, so he just moved on. Mrs. Aedile had almost no remarks placed in front of her picture. Maybe it was because she always presented herself as strict and stringent, even to her peers, that not many connected with her. But how could Nero not be friends with someone giving him food?

In the end, he left a small remark, though it was from the heart.

\'If I had served with you, I would not have let you fall while I drew breath. After all, your pudding was to die for.\'

Nero could not help but recall how, in the last few weeks of school, Mrs. Aedile had repeatedly made him different kinds of pudding. Either she was fond of them personally, or thought that Nero loved them. Either way, he would never have one again without thinking of her first.

It was a silly thing. Based on his predictions for the future, he did not see himself returning to Aetherpeak any time soon, let alone his highschool. He would always remember his final time in this building, where he had moulded himself into the warrior he wanted to become, and all he would recall is that corny epithet.

He looked around, searching for something. He hoped to see a teacher, or a friend, or maybe even an enemy. But there was nothing else left for him in that building. Just like he had left his home, months ago, to begin his journey as a card master, he was now leaving school to begin his military career.

The walk back from the school was oddly silent. It was only once they reached the bus station that everyone discussed their future plans. Some would join KMA. Others would directly enlist in the army. A few would pursue higher education.

Unknowingly, they had arrived at a crossroads, and their time together had come to an end. Nero felt that it was strange that the diverging of the living felt more bitter than the passing of the now deceased.

Or maybe they had all just learned long ago not to feel the pain of someones demise.

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