Chapter 13 - Interview with the Severants
[Arc 1: No Light Left For Us]
….
"So, what's your name?"
A day had passed since the four companions stumbled upon more survivors.
Near a bend along the riverbank, a young boy and girl conversed with one of the thirteen survivors.
"You don't know my name? We have been in the same class for months!" The lanky survivor questioned with a dumbfounded look.
Mist scratched her head and nudged at Raven. "Do you know him?"
"Don't look at me. I'm just a junior. " Raven shrugged.
Mist wryly smiled, turning her attention back to the wounded survivor. "Alright, buddy. How about this? You tell me your name and I probably won't forget this time… considering we are kinda bonded companions now."
"Skywalker," the survivor replied as he scratched at a bandage over his wounded eye.
"Copy that," Mist nodded. She began to write on a large leaf. "Skywalk— wait a minute!"
She froze, then looked up.
"You got me. You really got me there, companion."
Her eyes narrowed into a glare. "What's next? You are some force-user? Let me guess, your sigil is telekinesis? Really gold, dude."
The survivor flashed a large smile.
Mist grimaced. Who told this guy ugly people were allowed to smile?
"I don't know." Raven chimed in with a slight jeer, "It was sort of funny."
"Thank you." The survivor's smile grew even wider, if that was even possible. "I knew you were the cool one."
Mist narrowed her eyes at Raven, seemingly not expecting the betrayal.
Caught under the heat of her stare, Raven coughed awkwardly. "But seriously, you might wanna tell her your name if you don't wanna get murdered. Believe me, you don't want to find out what she's capable of."
The survivor glanced at Mist, a shiver creeped into him.
He sighed. "It's Skai. I came here with Dante's group. You know him, right?"
Mist nodded. "Yeah. The fire dude. He saved a lot of us back at old camp. Guess he must have protected your journey to the river; explains why your sorry ass is still alive. Must be nice to get carried, huh."
Three separate groups had made it to the riverbank.
The first was a lone survivor— Eden. She had arrived completely alone, somehow crossing the forest without encountering a single monster.
Her story raised more questions than answers, but since she'd arrived first, she naturally became the closest thing the survivors had to a leader. The person everyone looked to when things got rough.
The second group was the four companions— Mist, Raven, Hayden and Zoe. They were the most recent arrivals.
Then there was Dante's batch. They were the largest group by far, comprised mostly of heavy-hitters who had fought their way through the carnage at old camp.
Skai grinned. "Yep. Guilty as charged. I got carried the whole way like a little brother."
"You have zero shame, don't you?"
"None. The abduction must have failed to bring over my sense of shame. Real pity, I almost miss it," Skai replied.
Mist inhaled slowly— the kind of breath that warned of violence.
Raven stepped in before disaster could bloom. "Alright. Tell us about your sigil. I assume you know why we are asking."
"Yeah. Uhh… [Vintage Loverboy]. That's the name of my sigil."
"What does it do? Give us as much as you're comfortable with sharing," Mist asked.
"I don't actually mind. My innate skills… uhh… let me project sounds to different places. I haven't really found a use for it yet." Skai awkwardly said.
Mist raised her eyebrow. "Does it transfer sounds or create them?"
"Right now, It's just transference, but I get the feeling, sooner or later, I will be able to create sounds."
"Why do you think so?"
"Just gut feeling. Dante believes innate skills are not the true boon of a sigil. He's got this whole theory." Skai glanced at them. "Honestly, I think he got some things right."
Raven and Mist shared a look. They knew about Dante's theory. Hell, everyone did.
When the most adept sigil bearer says something with that much conviction, people tend to stop and take notes.
Mist chuckled, "It's kinda funny, actually. You are a troll, and your sigil is an even bigger troll. What are the odds?"
"Yeah, what are the odds an amateur is actually good at her first interview?" Skai shot back. "I nominate Raven to do the talking from now on. Some people, man… some people are just—"
"What did you say?" Mist was furious, her voice dropped dangerously low.
Raven felt the tension in the air.
"We are done here."
He frantically grabbed Skai and pushed him back towards the camp before Mist could make her move. Still, he couldn't deny finding the ordeal a bit intriguing.
It wasn't everyday jolly Mist met her match.
By the time Raven came back, Mist had already cooled off… or maybe she hadn't. She wasn't speaking to him though.
Either way, what really mattered was that she was ready to assess the last survivor.
...
Soon, a girl stepped into their rickety, makeshift tent.
She had soft brown hair and hazel-tinted eyes that caught the light strangely. Unlike most survivors, who looked like they had been put through a meat grinder, her body bore almost no visible wounds. She looked suspiciously… intact.
She glanced nervously around the tent, only stopping when she noticed the curious looks of Raven and Mist.
"Are you ready?" Mist asked.
The girl replied frantically, "Y-Yes."
"Alright… can you start by telling us your name?"
"I'm Pope, seventeen years old. I—I recently moved school so most people don't know me. Um… oh, I have six siblings including myself—five brothers actually, so I see myself as self-reliant because, well, boys will always be boys. Uhhh… what else— my height is five-seven. And about my size, is it okay if we skip that? I don't know if—"
"Woah. Woah. Slow down." Mist raised both hands. "Why are you telling us your life story?"
Pope froze. "I thought this was an assessment."
Raven shook his head. "It's less of an assessment and more of a deep analysis. We have been tasked with cataloguing the sigils of every one of us, so Eden can organise groups efficiently."
Mist added. "The goal is survival. Each one of us has come a long way since our time at the tower. We will prove useful to one another no matter how seemingly weird our sigils are. "
She pointed at Raven. "Look, this weirdo's sigil basically turns him into a human radar. Cool, right? Well, not exactly… turns out, he screams and bleeds, literally, every time he uses his innate skills. So, not exactly reliable. But if you ask me, I would probably say he has his uses."
"Oh," Pope said quietly.
"And then, there's me." Mist went on.
"You would think the chances of a girl getting some sort of blood manipulation are pretty slim, right? But somehow, that's what I awakened. If I cut myself, I can go full Carrie in this bitch. Also like my partner, I'm kind of a human pen, which might have maybe gotten me this role."
"Oh."
Pope had noticed Mist writing on giant leaves, but she never thought she actually wrote with her own blood. She had assumed they were using dye or ash.
But then again, there was nothing to write here. The abduction hadn't brought along their bags and books.
Mist set the leaf aside. "So, what can you do?"
Pope straightened, still a bit nervous. "Uhh… my sigil… [Blessed is the Final Sherperd]. It is a bit strange."
Raven and Mist perked up.
Mist quickly jotted down the information.
After she was done, she gently asked, "Your innate skills? You can choose not to tell me."
"Uh… let's see. It's kind of a messy list," Pope hesitated.
She counted quietly on her fingers. "I'm really strong. And fast. More durable, too. I can transfer impacts into the ground. And I can… travel through the earth."
Silence filled the tent.
Raven blinked once.
Mist slowly lowered her writing hand.
Neither of them expected that.
Perhaps, next time, it was best not to judge the book by its cover.
Who would have guessed the shy girl standing before them was secretly a walking barbie kong?
….
A while after the assessments concluded, Raven and Mist stepped out of the ten.
On their way back to the heart of the camp, Raven's gaze drifted towards the horizon, far down the river's winding path, where the skyline broke and something loomed.
The structures stood half-submerged in the flowing water— enormous interlinked and sprawling mounds rising into the sky, each one rivaling the height of famous skyscrapers. They clustered in unnatural symmetry, forming what could only be described as a settlement.
But nothing about it felt human.
It was all… utterly alien.
The architecture curved where it shouldn't, folding into layered shells or petrified waves. Angles bent subtly wrong as if designed for eyes that perceived space differently. It looked ancient— derelict husks ravaged by time.
Yet it wasn't dead.
Every so often, a rhythmic pulse of sapphire light would thrum through the mounds. It was the same cold eerie glow they had seen at the tower.
A village built directly upon the river… waiting.
Raven slowed without realizing.
'What is there?' He wondered.
The survivors had unanimously agreed to ignore the settlement for now, mostly in fear of danger. It was decided to address the wounded first before making any other move. Explorations could wait.
Still, the settlement lingered at the edge of his vision, impossible to ignore. There was something odd about it— a lull that he found too strong to drown.
The two of them reached the main tent. Sitting outside was a wicket basket overflowing with grilled delicacies— monstrous, one-eyed fishes with long tails that seemed to stretch on forever.
Raven flinched.
"If it's between eating more of that or starving to death, I think I know what I'm gonna choose." Mist flashed a look of disgust at the basket.
Steeling themselves, the two of them took a deep breath and pushed through the tent flap.
Inside, there was a bright woman with an everpresent smile, brighter than anything even Mist could muster.
To her side were some of the heavy-hitters. Among them were—Hayden, Jordan, and lastly… Dante.
The boy of flames.
Raven exhaled quietly.
'Yeah,' he thought. 'This is going to be fun.'