The City of Ionia

I finally reached the doors to the palace after climbing the stairway to hell. It sat alone in the city's heart, looking down at everyone like ants. A couple of torches, the size of a person, were stabbed in the pillars.

There were no guards around the door besides the one I was with.

Was that normal? Did they usually not have any guards by the entrance?

The wooden door had two abnormally large, half-circle handles and was larger than a handful of buildings.

“Are you not going to open it?”

“You're an impatient one.” Samuel gave the door a few knocks. It eerily crept open like something from a bonfire story.

As soon as I walked in, I was met with two double-edged swords hovering over my neck. They stationed guards on both sides; their chained armor dragged down their wobbly arms.

“Leave her be.” Samuel carelessly shoved the swords away from my throat. “Follow that woman. She’ll take you to him.”

I didn’t notice the woman until Samuel mentioned her. Her winter eyes were darker than the season itself. Her orange hair was cleanly tied into a ponytail. Aside from being on the taller side, her limbs were longer and muscular than mine. She wore a forest green cloak that looked rather tight around the arms.

She gave me an elegant bow. “Welcome, Jill. My name’s Sylvia. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now, if you please don’t mind, allow me to lead the way.”

Sylvia? The name rang a bell, but I wasn’t sure where I’d heard it from.

We walked through the palace. The shimmering brazier surrounded each of the many marble columns, illuminating most of the room and allowing shadows to remain where light couldn’t be reached. A crimson carpet created a path from the entrance to the throne. A marble black staircase began where the red pathway ended, leading to a gold throne under a crystal chandelier.

Underneath all the materialistic items were unwanted memories that flooded my head. I was usually good at ignoring them, but being in the palace where everything occurred made it worse.

Sylvia tried to initiate small talk, but I ignored her. She asked multiple questions about my travels and friends and whether I ate anything. Questions that I didn't feel like answering.

She pointed at a balcony, claiming he was waiting there. She then turned around and bumped me on the shoulder as she walked by.

“Oops. Sorry.” That was the fakest apology I’d ever heard. Roger could’ve done better.

I didn’t take much note of it. Instead, I focused on what I needed to do. I made my way towards the balcony. It was a bit breezy, but the breeze made one want to stay out forever. The outside view was the dying as people began wrapping up for the night.

“I see you’ve made it. Would you like some tea?” From his gravelly voice, I could tell he had an unhealthy amount of mucus piled up.

“I don’t want it.”

He was leaning against the stone barrier, which prevented him from falling and landing on someone's home. He stared at me with his bird-like eyes. They were darker than loneliness itself, shadowing everything that came to sight.

The king was wider width-wise than most of the people. His shoulder-length hair was the same color as the night. He hadn’t changed his appearance since the last time I saw him. He never dressed like a true king would. Instead, he casually wore an ankle-length maroon-black cloak with a white tee underneath.

He went to a small table that a child would play on and poured a cup of tea. “Here, I made it myself.”

I grabbed the cup and tossed it over my shoulder. “I said I don’t want it.”

“No need to raise your voice. If my guards were here, they would’ve come to my defense. Good thing they aren’t.”

Now that he mentioned that, the lack of security in the palace was noticeable. I probably saw less than five soldiers throughout the entire palace.

“Why aren’t there any guards here? Shouldn’t the king have some protection?”

He took a quick slurp of his tea. “The guards are patrolling the streets. I didn’t need them here since you will not do anything. And if you do, they’ll go after everyone you came with.”

“As if you know who I came with.”

His lips vaguely curled up. “Tim, Owen, Roger. I know them all. We know everything about them and you. The spies were incredibly helpful.”

I grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him closer to me. “Spies?! You’ve been watching me for all these years?”

“Calm that head of yours. ‘Spies’ isn’t the correct word. We used an Ionian item to track your movements. It tailed you wherever you went.”

Could it be the machine from earlier? No, that thing was too noticeable. Whatever it was, it had to be the size of a fly.

I pushed, making him spill his tea on his shirt. “Look what you’ve—”

“How long have you been spying on me?”

While patting the tea stains on his shirt, he replied, “Seven years after your departure, after the interesting stuff had concluded.”

I faintly understood what he meant by the ‘interesting stuff.’

He left the shirt alone and exhaled a frustrated sigh. “So about your desire… have you made any progress? I assume not, judging how you’re still here.”

I scoffed while looking away. “Shouldn’t you know, considering you know ‘everything?’”

“Like I said, I know almost everything about you. I discontinued spying, so I know nothing from the past year. Who knows, something interesting could’ve happened.”

Something interesting happened. Something probably no other outside had ever experienced.

With my back straighter than a door, I cleared my throat, trying to sound as confident as ever. “I recently encountered a SCAR agent.”

The king gave a thunderous applause that could’ve scared nearby children.

“Wow! Brillant! To think someone like you could face another one.” His loud, appealing voice turned into a threatening one. “Was this time different from the other?”

My head tilted like a dog would while listening to a high-pitched voice. “I don’t follow.”

“Forget what I said. Now, please explain this encounter to me. I want to know everything.”

I gave the run-down about the encounter. How we had our minor scuffle, and how I interrogated him in my basement. When I brought that up, his eyes lit up like a child receiving candy.

“I want more. Tell me what was said in the basement.” His serious look resembled a true king.

I didn’t know what to say since there wasn’t any helpful information on how to get into the city, nor how we could live together in peace. There wasn’t much to say since I questioned a phony SCAR agent.

Wait a minute.

I realized he told me about SCAR from an Ionian’s perspective. He said SCAR was a power-craving organization that was rotting Ionia’s future. They controlled the citizens like puppets attached to strings.

But if I said anything negative about SCAR, he would become suspicious. He would quarry why a SCAR agent would speak ill about their group. I trapped myself in a corner. I didn’t want to reveal that he was a phony agent since it might demote my arguments. But what if I could bend it to my advantage?

“Truth be told, he wasn’t a SCAR agent. He was just a normal Ionian living a normal life. One day, SCAR abducted him, forcing him to obey their ridiculous orders. And if he didn’t, they threatened to kill his entire family. He was a regular Ionian dragged to the outside world as a SCAR agent.”

I twisted the story. There were no threats at all. Well, not that I knew of. But I knew his own hands killed his mother. Did I care if I told the truth? No. I was going to persuade him to believe me.

I concluded, “If you haven’t figured it out, Ionians are petrified of SCAR.”

He itched his thorny bread and intensely gazed at the gloomy clouds as if the words he was looking for were somehow written there. “Ionians are petrified of SCAR…” He looked away from the clouds and fixed his attention on me. “So, what do you intend to do with this information?”

I tapped my finger on the marble balustrade. “You know what I’ll do! SCAR is brutalizing the people of Ionia. They must be saved. We must be saved. The only way for us to coexist is to destroy SCAR.”

“Forgive me if I’m incorrect. My memory is a bit hazy. What is driving you to pursue such a feat.”

I leaned against the edge, gazing at the city underneath.

“Raphtalia. She complained about how the world wasn’t right. Coming from my origin, I had to agree. The world she envisioned was beautiful. Everyone is living in harmony with no struggle. Her dream was to find a way to coexist with the Ionians. If I can just get past the walls and make that extra leap, then who knows what this world will look like.” I brought my hand to my hair, moving it aside.

“So even if it’s not your desire, you’re still set on creating this ideal world. Why is that? Is your guilt overruling you to fulfill her dream?” He took another sip of tea and placed the cup on the table.

I pushed myself off the marble. “Guitiness?” I said under my breath. What was there to feel guilty of? And why did I feel this tingling sensation in my feet? Did my body know something my mind didn’t?

His voice gradually raised, “You know exactly what I mean. Your careless actions led to her death. Even if she didn’t die by your hands, you are the reason her blood was spilled.”

“It-It wasn’t my fault. I-I didn’t…”

Someone might as well have pierced my heart out with a blade and eaten it in front of me.

“You did, though. Whose idea was it to escape? Who came up with the foolish plan? Who failed to take everything into account? You did.”

No. I didn’t do it. It wasn’t my fault. The plan worked until the very end. It’s… that’s right, it’s the world's fault. This unjust world is so vicious that no one can win against it. I didn’t do anything.

It’s the world’s fault, not mine. Right Raphtalia? It’s the world’s fault, not mine. Of course, it is. It’s the world’s fault, not mine. What else is to blame? It’s the world’s fault, not mine. Not mine. Not mine. Not mine. Not mine! Not mine! Not mine!!

If it were Raphtalia’s world, none of this would’ve happened. That’s why I must get into Ionia and fix it. Destroy SCAR so we never have to worry about anything getting in our way. Ionians and outsiders could coexist.

But isn’t that declaring war? Raphtalia definitely wouldn’t want to take that route.

My fingers stroked through my hair, grabbing all I could handle. My skin would’ve ripped off my scalp if my grip tightened. With each breath, there was a tiny yet silent wailing and suffocation.

“You can’t do anything yourself,” said the king. That’s why you’re so desperately searching—searching, groping from Raphtalia. All you’re really doing is trying to stop the feeling of loneliness.”

Shut up.

“In the end, you only think for yourself. That’s why you clung to Raphtalia’s dream. You despised the empty feeling that forced you to live for another person’s dream. You truly don’t care if the outsiders coexist with the Ionians.”

Shut up! Shut up!!

“You simply want to live in the city, but you want recognition from a deceased person. Everything you do is for your own sake—just for yourself and no one else.”

“Shut up!!” I kicked the table over without thinking and aggressively threw it off the balcony. I hammered the balustrade so hard that I thought my fist would dislocate. My chest was rising and sinking at a pace where I couldn’t breathe normally.

He must’ve been right next to me since his voice got closer.

“Let’s visit the brighter side. If you desire to get past the wall, shouldn’t you know that there’s one person who has that information?”

“One… one person…?” Gradually, my breathing normalized. My quick outburst was defusing.

“Yes. You’ve been there yourself. You know where to find that person. Yet, for all these years, you’ve refused to go back. You’re a foul batch of tea mixed with naiveness, arrogance, and ignorance. Those three traits prohibit you from going to the House with Answers.”

I swiftly turned around, his chin above my head. “After what happened the last time I was there, I don’t see myself ever returning.” I turned back towards the city, leaning my forearms against the balustrade.

“Why so? You know the place isn’t cursed. It’s a made-up conception of the one thing that’s actually there. And once you get past it, all the answers in the world are yours. Surely, the house has a way to get in the city.”

He’s right. ‘The curse’ was something stupid made up to cover the truth. A SCAR agent protected the place. It was no ordinary agent. It didn’t seem to have a consciousness. It would smash the heads of people and rip their fingers off, mangling them until they weren’t recognizable.

That’s what that SCAR agent did both times I was there. It killed the people I loved. Both times I was there, I was saved by the people who died. Marshall, Ruby, and I led them to their deaths. If I went back there, there could be a chance it would follow me to mine.

It could follow me back home. Owen. Tim. Roger. They could all…

“I can’t go. That demon transfixed me with fear. If I go back there, it’ll bring back everything.”

A single tear strolled down my cheek. I was too scared to save them back then, and now I’m too afraid to go. How pathetic.

“It killed two of your friends, didn’t it?” He, too, leaned his forearms the same way I was, looking at the same city I was. It kinda reminded me of how my comrades would do the same.

“They both saved me,” I said. “I can’t let their deaths go to waste.”

He got a solid belly laugh from my threat.

“Yet you want to sit here and do nothing about it. You grew into an odd person.”

Ignoring his words, I pushed myself upright and headed to the exit. It was getting late, and I wanted to rest alone. I turned my head around, allowing him to be barely visible from the corner of my eye.

“You can doubt me, but don’t be surprised when Raphtalia’s dream becomes a reality.”

“Don’t let your ideals shackle you to the ground.”

I scoffed and walked away from the balcony. Before I was out of sight, I gave him the finger.

That would be the last time I ever saw him.

***

It was the type of cold that crept into my bones, as if my skin were a door left wide open for the chilly breeze, slamming it shut only to reopen. I tightly crossed my arms, hoping to close that door permanently. I should’ve worn more than a jacket.

The streets were deserted like a cup of water. Only a few people remained wandering the city. The food cars lacked decorations, just as well, because no one was around to admire them. A few children slept against the entrance steps to a house with no adult in sight. The open mouths inhaled the ground dust.

I randomly strolled around the city till I somehow reached the fountain from earlier. I didn’t intend to go back; it just happened. The endless bubbling of water was still present.

I gazed at the water and noticed a singular, red petal from an unknown flower. It was a tear-shaped petal with a few veins branching to different ends. On top of the petal cruised a black butterfly. Its wings were connected.

I steadily extended my finger towards the creature. It waltzed onto my offering finger and didn’t sense any fear.

Such carefree creatures. They were unaware of the concept of the future or someone lingering behind their heads. Wouldn’t it be amazing, as beautiful as ever, if I could spread my wings out and soar without care? It would be refreshing to live carefree like a butterfly.

I gently placed the butterfly back into its petal, then rubbed my hands against my pants. I looked around and saw that the bench I had been sitting on was empty, so I took advantage of that.

The recently opened memories of my last visit to the House with Answers replayed in my head. She shouldn’t have followed me. Ruby shouldn’t have followed me. Why was I so stubborn?

I should not have told her. She should’ve been ignorant.

A SCAR agent killed her. The way it moved and killed was so inhumane.

On that day, my death was inevitable. But once again, I was saved by someone else.

How many people have saved my life?

And how many more would die because of the inability to save myself?

The world was cruel beyond retribution. If it had been normal, none of this would’ve happened. They would all be alive now—Marshall, Ruby, Harley, Raphtalia. They would run with full stomachs, slashing each other’s faces in the water, watching the sun take its daily nap.

I curled up into a ball and lay on my side. My hands rubbed my biceps as the shards of chilly air stabbed my body. Spitballs shot out of my mouth with my yawn. The clouds above looked glum as ever. Can the clouds release their anger and trample over my defenseless body? It’s what I deserved.