rogue_3

Freezing wind rages, and an environment even harsher than the rocky caves in the mountains denies the possibility of life's continuation. The unknown future is always frightening, but the Cyclopes that have moved north will continue, as long as they have not foreseen ill fate.

There are natural shelters on the icefields that will provide temporary cover, but they are not their destination.

Get closer to the prophecy, see clearly, and form the barrier against disaster, extending the survival of the frozen earth of the north for another millennium.

The Cyclopes had begun to guide ahead when the ring appeared in their foresight, when the shadow's corruption of Sami began to accelerate, preparing for the new migration. 'Sacrifice' is a word all too familiar to them. Kazdel has long bathed in blood since the distant past. The Cyclopes no longer gaze upon Kazdel, but they are keenly aware that if the Teekaz are to keep their land, someone must keep watch in the far north. Just as the warriors of Sami have built defensive lines on the mountains to protect their homes and loved ones.

Valarqvin is a dissident amongst them. The pessimistic Cyclopes trust no outsiders. The Sarkaz have seen too much parting, hatred, and betrayal. The prophets who constantly gaze upon the future do not carry with them the hatred of the past, but are unwilling to accept uncertainty that will cloud their foresight. Even if the survey teams have arrived at the end of the icefields, the Cyclopes refuse to work with them or tell outsiders of the great vision they see. The brief opening of the door, and the mutual annihilation of Sami's ancestral spirit and the invading demon, have caused the vision to become even more broken and unfathomable.

They abide Valarqvin's presence. The young dissident must hasten her steps to keep pace with her tall kin. They whisper from time to time, exchanging news about the icefields and demonic corruption.

In this procession, she is neither hero nor sinner. They know she has thrown herself into a fate too complex and intricate. One false step, and she will fall into darkness. Therefore, she must stay with them, for now.

They also know that she will not stay forever, for she has seen where her own end lies.

An ill fate awaits.

It has always been so.

Valarqvin climbs the high wall that the warriors of Sami have built in the mountains.

'I'm not here as a representative of my tribe,' she tells the Snowpriest leading the legion.

'I do not fear the prophecies of the Cyclopes,' answers Eikthyrnir.

The foresight of the Cyclopes may predict disaster, but not how far in the future it will come, nor can they sense the realization of a prophecy any sooner than others. As the demonic influence observed by the Cyclopes grows, and Sami and Her warriors begin to struggle to stop the corruption from spreading, the warriors of the mountains have also begun to notice. Unusually, Eikthyrnir agreed to meet with a Cyclops. Valarqvin walks through the cold watchtowers among the mountains, and hears weary voices divining the whereabouts of missing warriors.

They have taken terrible losses. The lands of Sami are being taken over by the shadow of fear by the day. The tribes of the south begin to recognize the signs, and the tribes of the north begin to migrate south. Valarqvin does not need to warn her counterpart that this is simply the beginning of the crisis. The Snowpriest, leader of his people, has spent his entire life fighting Sami's great enemy. He knows what is transpiring.

The Sami must make a choice. They must change.

She is disappointed, but not surprised, that Eikthyrnir rejected her offer to help on the spot. 'There is no need for us to talk, unless you intend to become a warrior of the mountains,' he says.

'You continue to insist that holding this position is the only way out, even though you have seen Sami wounded and battered, even knowing that you will draw your last breath on the cold, frozen soil?'

'I can already see what you intend to reveal.'

'Then why have you agreed to dialogue with a Cyclops for the first time in decades, if your mind is already set?'

Beneath his scar, the Snowpriest's eye turns to her. 'To see what you know but do not intend to reveal.'

Valarqvin says nothing.

It is no secret that the Cyclopes tell only of ill fate, but those with foresight may attempt to divine the order in which the inevitable occurs.

The demonic threat approaches. The time Sami has left is fleeting, compared to the thousand years that came before. Valarqvin ponders the instant that she foresaw, and knows that the ring at the end of the icefields must be reached, before demonic corruption becomes impossible to resist or even fathom. Before the end of days that the Cyclopes have gazed upon for a thousand years, she must manifest that ill fate brought about by touching the door. So that the ring will be a path towards the future, not the end.

But just as the warriors of the mountains do not abide deception, the Cyclopes do not define fate with language. All she says is, 'I see tragedy, but not the end.'

Eikthyrnir, who had already gotten up and was about to leave, stops. Without turning back, he asks one final question: 'Do you intend to deceive fate?'

'No, I intend to accept it,' answers Valarqvin. As she descends the wall, the warriors no longer point their weapons at her in contempt.

Valarqvin finds the reckless explorers from outside.

The cave is so dark that even a Cyclops can barely see. The outlanders who know nothing of Sami's hidden dangers wave their torchlights in panic, trying to cut open the darkness that would not be lit.

The outlanders and Valarqvin were hardly more than strangers, and one did not need the gift of foresight to see their end. Valarqvin could see it the first time she saw them two weeks ago. Yet she chose to follow them and attempt to render help, not long after the outlanders set out.

The wind and snow covered all tracks. Valarqvin was too young then; she had hardly ever left her cave, nor seen many tracks left behind by demons. She found the place after many days in harsh weather, after she had reached the point of exhaustion.

When Valarqvin found them, she knew she was too late.

On their faces—now disconnected from their distorted, twitching bodies—she sees fear overtaking all reason. A pair of eyes turns towards her in the undispellable darkness, thirsting for salvation.

Help, please, help.

Amidst the silent call for help, Valarqvin raises her staff with trembling hands. Necrosis Arts fall upon the body of the explorer that was about to be turned.

She wanted to save them, but she could not offer the hope of life, only inevitable death.

The dissonance of life comes to an end. The young Cyclops turns around, shuts her eyes, and stands silently in the shadows. She steadies her thoughts and clears her thinking, so that the unfathomable foe cannot find weakness in her reason. Her own silhouette gazes at her with a mournful expression in the darkness when she closes her eyes.

The shadow mutters, 'Why do you go forth? Fate has always been unmoved by your efforts.'

Valarqvin remains silent in its gaze, but eventually answers, firmly, 'Because I saw you.'

Yes, she wanted to save those people, but that was only her wish, not her reason for going forth.

She chose to follow the trail of the outlanders because she saw a vision of this instant, the vision of her failed rescue. She set out to realize the fate that had been determined.

The shadow sighs. 'You have seen it. The future holds nothing but tragedy.'

Valarqvin can feel her uncontrollable trembling diminish along with the demon's hold over her mind. She knows she can escape now.

'Yes, you are the tragedy that I foresaw,' she says to herself. 'But you are not the end.'

She opens her eyes, and walks towards the cave's exit.

In her hand she holds a journal left behind by an explorer. It was not the first outlander relic that she has collected, nor would it be the last.

'You are merely the present.'

The girl checks her terminal again.

Previously, she had jotted down the scattered scenes that played out in her mind as notes, and used them as clues to aid her investigation. She would store and organize her discoveries in the terminal so she could refer back to them again and again.

She found a chronicle of a Kazimierzian knight legend. In a dense forest, a bandit wielding a flaming greatsword terrorized the area, robbing and killing many locals. The knights organized a campaign, but were unable to defeat the powerful bandit. In a fit of rage, their flames flared up to exact vengeance, preparing to massacre all the knights at once. That's when a wise and brave knight and her sister used their radiant Arts to fell the bandit, eventually becoming the king of a certain country.

The story had been published in Kazimierz for a long time, and was a bestselling children's book. The protagonist in the accompanying illustrations somewhat resembles Miss Nearl, which seems to be a marketing ploy.

She found a dessert shop on a street corner in Leithanien. A few years ago, there had been a terrible explosion in the kitchen, and the chef at the time had died trying to save the dessert's recipe. Even more unfortunate is the fact that the current store owner failed unable to inherit his craftsmanship.

She found the ruins of an ancient city in the barrenlands. Decades ago, the sons of the city's lord fought amongst themselves for the right of inheritance, resorting to any and all means. The morally upright lord couldn't bear to see this anymore, and locked all his sons up in a cellar. In the end, a fire caused by a great Catastrophe swept through the ancient city, leaving no survivors.

This was the account found in the diary of the ancient city's lord, but according to the residents of nearby villages, the lord himself had actually gone mad. He grew more and more paranoid as he got older, and became cruel towards the sons he saw as hopeless.

The truth, however, may be unknowable. Just like the girl herself.

She cannot find any trace of herself in any of these stories.

Yet in her memory, all of these things did indeed happen. And in each case, she seems to been the one to start the fires.

The girl stares at the greatsword in her hands, lost in thought. She had long known that even 'Surtr,' the name she subconsciously recognized, was never hers to begin with.

She is reminded of that fact every time someone calls her by that name.

All of these memories originate from this ability, this curse. They are the memories of every 'Surtr.'

What exactly is 'Surtr'? Where exactly did the girl come from?

Why, after all this time, does she still not even know if she is really herself?

All this exploration, all this investigation, it serves no purpose whatsoever. Why continue?

The girl looks at the arrow she drew on the map. It points to her destination – Sami.

Though the environment at Rhodes Island is nothing special, she can at least enjoy peace there.

Here, she has a warm room and plenty of food. She has friends, and missions. And occasionally, these missions can be easily dealt with using her unknown powers.

Why cause all this trouble for herself, why spend so much effort, just for that slim possibility?

Why does it matter whether or not she's really 'Surtr'?

The girl's hesitation is real. Despite being seen by other operators as prideful and strong-willed, there were moments like this when she genuinely felt like giving up.

But she did not.

She's already had to suppress this unwillingness countless times, before eagerly embarking on a brand new journey once again.

This time, towards Sami's snowfields.

The girl has always known that the being inside her body is restless, impatient, and powerful.

Sami's frigid winds never relent; here, she does not need to guzzle cold beverages to keep it sedated.

In that regard, she is rather fond of Sami.

The divination mentioned by the locals piqued the girl's curiosity, and she readily found herself before a respected old matronly shaman.

The old shaman enthusiastically brings her into the divining hut. It is a quaint, antiquated place, with candles and radios scattered everywhere, and the air is filled with the faint scent of burnt incense.

The kindly shaman does not ask about the girl's background, or even why she came. But she knows that the girl needs her help.

Even as the girl is still wavering, the old shaman has already begun her preparations.

She asks her to sit in a ventilated area. A small heater is placed there, to stave off the cold.

She hands the girl a small cup of tea. It has a light, elegant taste.

She gives the radio a good pat with her hand, and it begins to play a melodious local tune.

What's next? Do you need to do any rituals? The girl looks at the old woman.

The old woman replies that divination does not actually require any rituals. All you need is to calm down and heed Sami's guidance.

Listen to Sami's voice. Trust it, and it will guide you.

The girl closes her eyes, putting her trust in this stranger, and in Sami.

Her fingertips unconsciously wander to the blade of her sword, and she feels her thoughts drifting along with Sami's falling snow, soaring with the frigid wind, before finally flying back into the depths of her heart to help her find her other self.

Her other self is struggling, letting out muffled sounds.

It proclaims that it is the mighty Surtr. It should have dominion. It should be worshipped, and its name passed down in legend.

But because it was defeated, dismembered, and sealed away by its craven enemies, it is now a shadow of its former self. Only by repeatedly finding insignificant creatures to be its vessel can it recover its powers.

Because of their lack of strength, none of its vessels are able to clearly remember their pasts.

Even Surtr cannot remember where it found this girl. Kazdel? Or somewhere nearby?

But it does not matter. The girl was right to come to Sami. This is where Surtr was once defeated and sealed away.

Within Sami's snowstorms, the enemy used its body to seal away its might. As long as the girl heeded its guidance and reached the right spot, she would easily be able to unseal it with its flaming sword.

As long as Surtr could recover some of its powers, it would surely be able to help her find her lost memories.

No matter how much the wind and snow try to hinder her, the flames would surely show her the path.

A chill passes through her, and the girl snaps back to consciousness. A candle still burns beside her.

The old shaman slowly points it out to the girl. In front of her, the flickering flame left behind two messages.

The woman tells her the meaning of the first message.

Sami watches over the kind-hearted. Simply believe what you hear, and you will surely arrive at your destination.