Garden Of The Abyss

He looked at his hands, for the first time, the power he cultivated couldn't be felt flooding through his veins, instead–he felt the stale air's gripping dread encircling him, listening to those daunting footsteps beyond the wall he sat, stalking him.

Catching his eye, he saw an heirloom blade hung on the back wall as a decoration of sorts, prompting him to smile just slightly.

"...If I was nothing without magic, then who the hell would I be?" He muttered to himself, "If I talked all of that talk, putting myself with the best of them, only to cower away when my weapons were snatched from my fingers–I wouldn't be able to show my face to them anymore."

Bringing himself to his feet, he didn't take care to mask his footsteps as he walked over across the creaking floorboards, reaching out and grabbing onto the light-brown handle of the longsword.

"I'm Sirius Federov," he announced, "I've got a reputation to uphold, even if it's just within the world of dreams."

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.

It was just those steps that were enough to give away his location to the grotesque abomination, but he held his smile, plucking the blade from its mantle against the wall.

"That's right," he said, wielding the rose-engraved sword as its weight was heavy in his magic-less grip, "I'm right here."

Wielding the longsword he found only by stray chance, he adjusted to its weight, giving it a few testing swings as he prepared himself.

"It can't be much different than chopping wood with an axe, right?" He asked himself.

This isn't some stupid act of bravado. It's just a case of a bit of "Ockham's Razor" here: if magic didn't work to put it down, and magic isn't even an option now…maybe good ol' physical attacks are what'll work, he thought.

As the footsteps approached the house, he decided to take the initiative, running with the uneven weight of the heirloom blade held in his hands as he kicked the door open in front of him, preparing for his attack before–nothing.

"Huh?"

The contorted sky was gone, and returned to its normal state of bearing serene, glistening stars. The streets were sparkly clean, free of the blood he had seen before, and no grotesque monster was after him.

It was returned to its usual, quiet self–the residential, south sector of Yulimium. The homes were no longer on fire, and some citizens were even lounging on benches under the stars.

In his hands, he held nothing, yet his hands were held together as if wielding a blade.

What's going on here…? He questioned.

"What's the big idea?!"

A rough yell came from behind him, causing him to slowly turn around as he was utterly perplexed by the sudden shift.

The door he had just kicked in was still swung wide open, and a visibly angry man was standing in the doorway, with veins pressed against his forehead.

"You were in my home, weren't you?! Are you a thief or something?! Guards–!" The man yelled out.

"Huh? No, I wasn't…" He tried to defend himself, but he was far too confused.

"Guards–!" The green-haired, middle-aged man yelled out again.

As he stood there, frozen by the inexplicable situation, he could hear the cries of children from within the house, now realizing the trouble he must've stirred.

"Sorry…" He apologized, beginning to walk away.

"Hey! Stay right here! Wait for the guards!" The angered citizen told him, following after him.

He was stopped as the tall, muscular father grabbed his arm, prompting him to act out of pure reflex as he turned around, sending his fist directly against the man's nose.

"...Ah, my bad," he apologized, realizing what he had just done.

There was no reinforcement involved, but the hit still floored the man, who was on his back with a bloodied nose.

"Grgh…! You'll pay for this!" The father winced.

As he looked around, he realized a small crowd had gathered in the street, watching him with worried eyes, some watching him in horror as guilt settled in his stomach.

It wasn't a moment after that the clanky footsteps of men dressed in armor approached–the guards he had yelled out for.

They were dressed in emerald-painted, steel armor, with umber and gold capes flowing from their shoulders.

"Stop right there, in the name of King Terzian!"

He didn't try to run away or resist, still absolutely perplexed by the set of events as the guards took hold of him.

What the hell is going on here? He questioned.

Being escorted by the guards towards the royal keep that was present in the west sector, visible all the way from the south as it stood elevated, bolstered by a lavish, colossal building, he finally returned to his senses.

"Right, it'd be bad if I was caught now…" He muttered.

"What was that?" The guard holding his left arm asked.

"Keep your mouth shut, law-breaker!" The stern guard holding his right arm asked.

He raised his head, "Sorry, but I don't have time for this."

Right before their eyes, he vanished, warping space as he escaped from their grasp, bringing himself behind the inn as he used the hidden space to duck away.

"Where did he go?!"

"Did any of you see him?!"

Though the guards could be heard yelling for information, likely to the onlookers, nobody understood what happened.

He could hear the guards continue yelling out, causing a further commotion as they called for more guards.

Well, Emilia isn't going to be too happy about this, he thought.

With another warp, he instantaneously brought himself into the room of the inn he booked, nearly causing Emilia to bring a blade to his throat once again before she stopped herself.

"Yo," he greeted her wryly.

"...Please tell me I'm wrong to assume all the commotion out there has something to do with you, Sirius?" She asked.

"It really depends," he answered, crossing his arms as he paced around the room, "is it directly, literally, and most-likely my doing? Yes. Did I want to? No."

"Sirius…" Emilia groaned, letting out a disheveled sigh, "Why was I stuck with you on this quest?"

Sitting down on the bedside, he looked straight at her–the serious look in his eyes seemed to garner the same energy from herself.

I guess I should probably tell her, he thought.