Every story starts with a question.
A promise.
And a philosophy.
It is said that there are two types of men— those who live by their desires, and those who live by systematic ideals.
But there are the rare few who select to live by very things they fear most.
Ezra leaned back against the trains chair. The atmosphere was awkward— not just the dim lights above or the fleeting world through the window, as the speed of bullet train made it all look like a light show. It had barely been more than 24 hours since he'd been cuffed to that table in the SOL station, now opposite a complete stranger travelling to a foreign place.
Ciro had said he was going to meditate but it seemed more like deep slumber. His eyes were closed and his back completely straight, even his breathing controlled. But nothing phased him— not even the seizure risk lights coming through the windows, highlighting his tanned skin covered in scars. He looked as if he recently walked out of blender, even his dark hair was ragged and messy. Although Completely juxtaposing his appearance he had a gold bar pierced through his right ear you couldn't help but notice. He wore scarf feathered across his shoulders and leaning onto his chin— a piece of tattered fabric that may have lived a longer life than even Ezra.
Ezra pinned between the screeching vibrations of the rails below him and the greater task looming above— he reflected on the deal he made. The deal that allowed him to rejoin the SOL, the deal put him under the supervision of one of the 12 kinsmen.
"Don't be so rigid, you're going to hurt your neck. lean back a little."
An unexpectedly soft voice left Ciros rough exterior. He looked outside the trains window perhaps realising Ezra avoidance of eye contact.
"…Why did you allow me to join your squad?"
Ciro pulled his scarf up higher over his face and leant back further.
"You had a reason why decided to come back right? After everything that happened… I won't press you for answers but I like motivated people."
*Thirty minutes til arrival*
*Destantion Valaria Airport*
"Plus it's nice to have more bodies. I've only been head of the Pale meridian division for a couple of months now, so we're quite a small group."
The two look blankly into the disappearing city lights as they're drowned in black once the train enters a tunnel.
"I grew up in monastery. Seventy brothers. No matter how many newcomers came I always the remained the youngest, the only one there not out of of choice."
The heavy darkness swallows Ezra's reaction. The train eventually left the tunnel bringing life back with it, bringing with it a glow as Ciro shrugged his shoulder.
"I never was an older brother back home," Ciro said with a earnest smile.
"But I hope I can be a some-what decent role model for my squad."
He's kind.
Ciro abruptly stood, reaching into the overhead storage. His small suitcase thumped down, and pulled a battered pack of cards from the front pouch.
"You'll meet Gia at the airport."
He shuffled the cards with natural precision.
"She's young. Talented…Too talented."
He paused, eyes scanning over his deck before placing his card.
"I asked for a healer… They sent a child. So im responsible for her."
Ezra placed his own card, waiting for Ciro to take his turn— but the he had drifted away again, gaze pointed at the window, a flickering memory he wasn't inviting Ezra into.
"She tries to pretend she's not scared. Don't encourage that."
The train slowed down, opening up into Valaris Airport. The pair stepped into the crowd moving toward the terminal for their flight to Shia— a small island of the coast of the eastern sphere. A land shaped by tradition and undying culture. While most of the east became industrialised, Shia clung onto its history. The home of shrines and one of the oldest dynasties to still remain. The Hanazaki dynasty.
Ezra took in the airport— unfamiliar sounds, unfamiliar noises , unfamiliar air. Ciro took on the task of finding their terminal. However every attempt lead them further from it.
"Dex is probably losing his mind right now." Ciro muttered as rereads the tickets for the tenth time.
"Who's Dex?"
"Our handler."
A burst of shouting snapped Ciro attention. He jogged towards, Ezra following closely behind. Until they find an old bearded man in a suit locked in an argument with a small girl.
She had short blue hair pinned away from her face. She wasn't dressed like a sorcrer, more like a mini fashion icon prepared to walk the run way. Jean skirt over her flared suit pants, with a white shirt hung over.
"How can there be too much luggage? What you expect me to believe the SOL is making us fly ECONOMY!"
Gia pouring out her outrage, bouncing around in place for the whole airport to see. She pointed at a mountain of suitcases behind, leaving Dex moments away from yanking out whatever hair she had spared him.
"I told you that's a bad habit. It's probably why your bald at the tender age of only 64." Ciro said with faint smile.
Ezra hovered beside him, unsure he was allowed to laugh or not.
Gia noticed Ciro— instantly transforming on command.
"Ciro! Look I packed light this time." She beamed with innocence.
Behind her, five suitcases bulging at the seams, each in moments away from being a bomb threat of clothes.
Ciro simply nodded as if it normal.
Ezra noticed a hooded person with earphones standing across from group scrolling on his phone, glancing over every now and again. His eye brows were shaved, hair bleached and spiked.
"That's Re…. He's erm… antisocial." Ciro pointing over but Re simply turns the other direction.
Dex walked towards Ezra. He was a giant of a man. Ezra couldn't tell wether it was his parental panic or his large but soft demeanour, there was something welcoming about Dex. He was clearly the only adult in the group despite Ciro looking like he was in his mid twenties.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Dex and sure the overs have managed to catch your attention already. If you need any sort of help I'm the guy to go to, probably the only guy to go…"
He leans in close so Ezra, lowering his voice.
"Make sure avoid going to him. Unless you're in a fight or something." He muttered pointing towards Ciro.
Ciro gathers everyone together before finally boarding the plane.
"Ezra take my seat, it'll give you time to bond with others. Oh… and Dex explain the deployment to him. I forgot to explain it to him."
Being the lowest ranked of the kinsmen squads, the Pale Meridian didn't have whole base. They drifted from assignment to assignment, the SOL's crew for odd jobs nobody else wanted. But this time was different, this wasn't another clean up mission. This deployment was heavy— the kind that came with politics, history and too many eyes watching.
The SOL governed nearly seventy percent of the globe, but the eastern sphere remained notoriously independent. Lead by dynasty founded by the divine and diplomatic governments. The island they were headed to, Shia, belonged to one of the oldest standing dynasties. The Hanazaki dynasty.
For decades the Hanazaki dynasty had suffered with internal conflict— civil conflict, ideological fractures, all while wrestling with rivalling powers all across the east. Now Shia was weakened, its shrines hollowed and its people exhausted. War brings ash. Ash brings distortions. Distortions multiplied all across the island like plague, while their dwindling sorcerers struggled to get pace.
In desperation the prince of Shia had finally bent a knee and requested aid from the SOL .
As a result, the Pale Meridian— nomads of the SOL were being sent to lend a helping hand.