Restart Again: Volume 2 Read online

  RESTART AGAIN

  VOLUME 2

  Written By: Adam Ladner

  Artwork By: Alice Catrinel

  Table of Contents (For Ease of Access)

  1. CONSEQUENCES

  2. BREAKTHROUGH

  3. THE GOLDEN THRONE

  4. ONE DAY CLOSER

  5. END OF THE WORLD

  6. OLD EMOTION

  7. A SIMPLE CONVERSATION

  8. GETTING TO KNOW YOU

  9. THREE WORDS

  10. THE COUNCIL CHAMBERS

  11. SECRETS

  12. ONE LAST CALM

  13. THE STORM

  14. I DID SOMETHING RIGHT

  15. WHAT COMES AFTER

  16. DAWN

  17. OUR FUTURE

  1. CONSEQUENCES

  The crash of our wagon being driven up onto the rutted dirt road woke me from my sleep. An annoyed grunt escaped my lips as I sat up. Our escorts appear to be early risers. That’s my damn luck. Dim, predawn light filtered in from the small barred window that ran around the top edge of our wooden prison cart. With one last jolt the cart made it up from the side of the road, and the steady jostling of travel resumed.

  Lia jolted awake on the bench beside me. She looked around in a panic, clearly unable to recognize her surroundings as her mind spun up to speed. I gave her a pleasant smile when she spun to face me. “Good morning, Lia. How did you sleep?” Her memory finally caught up with her and she turned away, her face red.

  “Fine,” Lia whispered meekly. She pulled her legs up onto the wooden bench next to her and curled into a ball. The manacles connecting her hands and feet clinked softly as the wagon bounced her around. I reached out across the aisle and placed a hand on the metal cuff around her wrist.

  “Please, let me remove the irons. You’ll be so much more comfortable without them.” The thoroughly shattered remains of my manacles clattered along the wooden floor as if to accentuate my point. “It’ll just take a second.” I had destroyed my own restraints in frustration while struggling to find a comfortable sleeping position. To my delight, the feat had been quite simple; a few seconds of meditation to suffuse the metal with mana and a single utterance of the word “Shatter” was all it took.

  Lia recoiled at my touch. “No. I’m fine.” I saw a tear fall from the corner of her eye and land on her cheek. “Please, you don’t have to worry about me. I-I’m fine.” Her jaw clenched as she stifled a sob, and she buried her face in her crossed arms. Leaning up against the wall, she rocked gently along with the wagon in silence.

  This is my fault. I withdrew my hand and watched her quietly, clenching my jaw at the sight of her pain. Lia had been inconsolable ever since we were thrown into the wagon in Atsal; although she had hardly said a word, I knew it was because she blamed herself for our capture. I tried to explain to her that it was my fault, but my words never seemed to reach her. I had failed to keep her safe in a fight I dragged her into and, more egregiously, I had made her a target for people looking to hurt me.

  The guards had no idea who she was. She could have walked away and stayed safe. I closed my eyes and sighed as I leaned back against the wall. And yet, she stood by me. Though Lia constantly thanked me for my selflessness and generosity towards her, nothing could be further from the truth; I was indebted to her so fully that no amount of gifts or kindness could ever repay her.

  Lia and her parents are the only people in this world who didn’t try to use me, kill me, or jail me the first time we met. If I hadn’t met her in that dungeon, I would still be the bitter, wrathful old man I was after arriving from Hedaat. I would’ve murdered my way out of that cell and been left wandering the countryside alone with my memories, without a purpose. I grimaced at the thought. How have I repaid her? I rebuffed her feelings for me, led her into a fight she wasn’t ready for, and got her arrested.

  A jolt from the wagon pulled me from my introspection. We had stopped moving suddenly, and I heard the familiar footsteps of the guardsmen from outside. A gruff voice called out from behind the door at the back of the cart. “Back away from the door, prisoners. If you try to run, you’ll get no food for the day.” Heavy latches flipped and scraped, and after a pause the door opened. “If you need to relieve yourselves, speak now or—”

  The guard’s hand flew to his sword when he noticed my manacle-free wrists. “Shit!” he exclaimed as his eyes scanned wildly around the interior of the wagon until he found the shattered remains of my irons.

  I held out my wrists towards him and did my best to look contrite. “Sorry sir, my shackles broke. I think I need new ones.” Kicking at the metal shards, I cocked my head. “I’m not sure what happened.” Though I fought against it, a faint smile spread across my face.

  His nostrils flared as his brow hardened, but his expression quickly turned to concern. “I need a new pair of shackles back here for the prisoner! A stronger pair!” he hollered around the side of the wagon, never taking his eyes off me. “I’m not sure what you’re playing at, but this sort of behavior isn’t going to be tolerated.” He straightened his shoulders and stared me down, but his confidence was undercut by the wavering break of his voice when he finished speaking.

  “Sir, I really don’t think the irons are necessary at all. I’m not planning on running away, and I’m certainly not going to try and fight the whole caravan by myself. Plus, it’s not like the restraints could stop me should I change my mind.” I paused for a moment with a serious expression to let the statement sink in, then laughed brightly. “And they’re just so uncomfortable!” A second guard appeared and handed over a fresh set of thick metal chains, peering carefully through the open door at me before scurrying away.

  I watched the indecision play across the guard’s face. It almost looked as though he agreed with me, but he shook his head and motioned me forward. “By the captain’s orders, you are to be restrained. No exceptions.” With a sigh, I scooted forward along the bench and allowed him to place the new manacles around my wrists and ankles. When he was finished, he pulled a bag from his belt and tossed it up into the cart. “Breakfast. For both of you.”

  Lia let out a small squeak of surprise. She had been sitting quietly during my interaction with the guard, still curled into a ball facing the opposite end of the wagon when the bag of rations landed next to her with a dull thud. I turned to face her and saw the fear in her eyes. She’s worse now than she was in the dungeons. The thought filled me with self-loathing. Because of me.

  “Lia,” I called out softly, “Do you need to use the bathroom?” She shook her head and looked away again. “I suppose we’re all set then,” I said, turning back to the guard. “Thank you for the food, sir. We’ll be seeing you again soon, I imagine.”

  He watched me through squinted eyes for a moment, then closed the door and locked it without a response. The wagon resumed its rumbling advance soon after. I moved back to my seat across from Lia and took a moment to destroy my new shackles. “Shatter,” I murmured under my breath, activating the mana I had saturated throughout the bonds. The surface fractured along microscopic faults within the metal and came apart all at once with a sharp cracking sound.

  I rubbed my wrists absentmindedly as I watched Lia. “I hate seeing you like this, Lia.” My voice was thick with remorse. “Can you talk to me about how you’re feeling? If there’s anything I can do to—”

  “No!” she interrupted me sharply. The harshness of her tone seemed to catch her off guard, and she momentarily recoiled at the sound of her own voice. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to worry about me. There’s nothing you need to do.”

  Carefully, I shifted across the aisle to sit in front of her on the wooden bench. “I’m always going to worry about you, Lia.” I clasped her han
d gently in between both of my own. “We’ve always been honest with each other until now. You’re obviously in a lot of pain, and I want to help you in any way I can.”

  Lia’s hand trembled as she looked up at me, sending tears cascading down her face. “I know...I know…” She leaned forward and rested her forehead against my chest, stifling a sob. “I’m n-not ready...to t-talk about it yet, is all.”

  “That’s okay,” I whispered in her ear. My fingers ran down through her long hair in tender, soothing strokes. “I’ll be here for you, whenever you’re ready. Okay?” Lia nodded weakly in response. Wrapping her in my arms, I gave her a quick embrace and planted a light kiss on the top of her head. “Everything is going to be alright.”

  The statement was as much for me as it was for her. While I wasn’t worried about our immediate wellbeing, I knew that every second brought us closer to Yoria and the Golden Throne. The promise of judgement awaiting us there still weighed heavily on my mind. Everything is going to be alright.

  I moved back to my bench and sprawled out along its length. With my head cushioned against my arms at the far end of the wagon, I closed my eyes and exhaled sharply. Is everything going to be alright? The thought echoed through my mind uncontested as I struggled to think of an answer. If my past lives are any indication, our lives are about to get a lot harder.

  My thoughts turned to my time in Hedaat, which immediately hardened the muscles in my shoulders and set my teeth to grinding. I should never have tried to run away with Lia. After everything I went through...after Alda. I knew it wouldn’t work, and I still tried to run. A bump in the road bounced my head forward violently. Fate isn’t going to let me get away, but at least I know it’s coming now.

  It was a comforting thought, even if the inevitability of it was terrifying. Back in Alderea when I met with Lord Eadric, I had no idea what fate had in store for me. When fate came knocking again in Hedaat, I told it to fuck off. Even through the bitterness of the memory, I managed to crack a small smile. My memories give me an advantage this time around. I know that they need me, and I can use it against them. Plus, two lifetimes of combat training and mana reserves are great bargaining chips.

  I cracked my eyes open enough to steal a glance at Lia. She was halfheartedly nibbling on a piece of hardtack and staring blankly across the cart. I was glad to see her eating, and her posture was markedly more relaxed than the tight ball she had been curled into earlier. Her safety is the only priority. It should be easy enough to negotiate her release, with compensation for her hardship and assurances of her continued wellbeing…

  As nice of a fantasy as the idea was, I knew Lia would never accept it. She’s made it abundantly clear that wherever I’m going, she’s going too. I lingered on the idea for a moment, surprised at the pang of sadness I felt at the thought of her leaving. I wouldn’t want it any other way. She’s stuck with me as much as I’m stuck with her.

  A particularly warm sunbeam shone down across my chest from the thin barred windows of the wagon, and I suddenly found myself struggling to stay awake. When she’s ready, Lia will tell me how she’s feeling. We’ll talk it out and...A yawn interrupted my train of thought momentarily. Everything will be alright. Having tossed and turned for most of the night prior, I was perfectly content to doze until Lia needed me. With a relaxed sigh I gave up the fight against my sleep-deprived brain and drifted off.

  ---

  My face stung as wind and heavy sleet whipped against my cheeks. It melted and ran down to collect in the ragged salt-and-pepper beard which was tangled and frozen in the winter weather. As I trudged up the hill through knee deep snow, I traced a finger around the handle of the manasteel sword on my hip with exaggerated movements. Although I couldn’t see them, I knew there were people watching me, and they needed to know I wasn’t looking to be disturbed.

  Even in the perpetual darkness of the storm, I knew where I was going; it was a path I had walked too many times to forget. As the slope leveled out, my destination finally came into view: a modest stone structure, thirty feet on each side and unadorned with any decoration or iconography, partially obscured by snow drifts at the top of the hill. The walls were made of a glossy black stone that looked to be carved from one solid piece, with no indication of an entrance on any side.

  As I made my final approach, I reached into the breast pocket of my thick woolen coat and retrieved a tiny golden cylinder. It was the size of my pinky finger, with three uneven metal rods on one end and a cone-shaped spiked mesh on the other. When I reached the wall, I brushed a layer of snow and ice away to reveal a divot in the stone about the size of an apple. I pulled the glove from my right hand with my teeth and carefully pushed the cylinder into a small slot, and was rewarded with a small click as the three metal prongs found their sockets.

  I pressed my thumb down hard onto the top spike of the device, puncturing my scarred flesh. Rivulets of blood flowed through the metal mesh into an unseen chamber, and the cylinder instantly whirred to life. Dull blue light shone up through the spiked top as a mechanism inside spun noisily. After a few moments of waiting, the wall before me trembled and began to sink into the floor, revealing a well-lit chamber within.

  Kicking the snow from my boots against the outside wall, I retrieved the golden tube and entered the structure. A pale blue fluorescent light shone from the delicate crystals of a chandelier hung in the center of the room, casting wispy shadows out behind the sparse furnishings. Underneath the chandelier, raised slightly on a dais, sat a white marble sarcophagus. The sides were pristine lacquered rock, but the lid was covered in a carving of a large dahlia flower.

  A long end table sat to the right of the sarcophagus, covered in tiny wooden figurines. I had lost count over the years, but I knew there were at least eighty figures in total. One wooden chair faced the sarcophagus, clearly showing its age with a cracked leather cushion and splintered feet. Immediately to my left at the entrance was a round stone pillar which stood about waist high. The flat top had the same indentation as the wall outside, and I slotted the glowing golden cylinder inside.

  The exit closed up behind me in response, giving me a respite from the raging storm at my back. I crossed the room and sat down in the old chair, letting out a low groan of relief as I allowed my aching joints to decompress. For a while I sat in silence and stared at the sarcophagus wordlessly with my mind blank. It grew more difficult for me to put words to my thoughts as the days passed, and I had already said everything a hundred times over anyway.

  “I brought you a new figurine today.” My voice squeaked and cracked with disuse. I reached into my front pocket and pulled out the carving. It was the size of a deck of playing cards, chiseled into the vague shape of a deer. “It’s an elk...or it’s supposed to be, anyway. I’m not quite as good as I used to be.” I showed my scarred hands to the sarcophagus with a low chuckle. “The trembling makes it difficult.” Carefully, I found a spot for it among the other figures and set it gently on the table.

  I paused as I noticed the nearest group of carvings looked to be almost identical to the elk I had just set down. “Oh,” I said, disappointed, “I guess I already made you this one a few times.” My face fell, and my hand instinctively reached to the comforting grip of my sword; somehow, just touching the metal seemed to clear my mind and give me a renewed feeling of vigor. “I’ve been a bit forgetful lately. I have to write myself notes and pin them in places I see every day to make sure I...remember what’s going on.”

  The phrase brought up a fresh memory, and my face darkened as I continued to speak to the empty room. “They came to the lab again today. Only three of them this time, but I think they’re getting smarter. One even managed to find the door. Not that it could ever figure out how to get it open.” I brushed the golden band in the handle of my sword with my thumb and stared vacantly through it, remembering. “If it weren’t for the combat enhancements, they would’ve gotten me by now, but…”

  I trailed off, pausing to find the right words. “I don
’t know if I want to keep going.” Saying the words aloud finally made real the thoughts that had been hanging over me. “What’s the point in fighting? I’m not fighting for anything, just...the habit of it. It’s all I’m useful for now, and I’m not even good at it anymore.” I ran my hand over the cold marble lid before me. “We should have left like you wanted. Jaren would have understood.”

  Digging down through the layers of winter clothing, I found my bandolier strapped against my chest and pulled the slim silver needle from its clasp at the top. “That reminds me. It isn’t all bad news today. I’ve almost finished the universal needle.” I held it out at arm’s length and admired it. “It works for the first three orbs autonomously, and the fourth one works with concentration. I think with some clever rearrangements I’ll have a fully realized design—”

  A spasm shook my arm and sent the needle clattering to the floor. I held it steady with my free hand and waited for the shaking to stop, grunting as waves of pain flooded down to my fingertips. When the episode subsided, I moved unsteadily to where the silver needle had landed and slotted it back into my bandolier. “Sorry,” I apologized to nobody, embarrassed.

  From behind me, a faint beeping sound began to chime from the golden cylinder. I glared at it angrily and let out a defeated sigh. “Power’s almost out. It’s time for me to go.” I turned to retrieve the beeping device, but stopped myself and moved to the sarcophagus instead. I knelt down and rested my forehead gently against the stone. “I’m so sorry, Alda. I hope you can forgive me,” I whispered, every word threatening to catch in my tight throat. “I’m sorry. Forever.”

  With a heavy cough, I stood and returned to the entrance. I pulled the cylinder from its slot and returned it to my pocket, which caused the stone door to slide open once more. The harsh wind immediately chilled my face as I walked outside into the elements and began my trek back down the hill. I looked over my shoulder just in time to see the door close again and plunge the interior of the crypt back into darkness. “I’m so sorry.”