Alpha Instinct-Chapter 52: “The Storm of Tears”

He looked at Silica, his eyes red and swollen but fixed. The decision was a solid weight in his chest. He would go to Mount Lichtwelt. The risks were clear.

But he had to go.

Silica extended a cloak. Heavy, dark, almost black leather. A wide hood shadowed the upper part. "Put it on," she ordered, her voice low, but leaving no room for refusal.

Leonard took the garment. Throwing the cloak over his back, it smelled of perfume and something indefinably sweet, perhaps jasmine perfume.

"Is it yours?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Leonard, is there a problem?" Said Silica.

"It’s because you smell good. Thank you." Leo managed a shy smile amidst the sadness.

Silica’s face flushed slightly. "Just put it on," she said with a wavering voice.

He put it on, the weight of the leather wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. The hood, as it fell over his head, created a tunnel of shadow, partially obscuring his vision but completely obscuring his face.

"Better," said Silica. A quick look at the assessment, from top to bottom.

Their eyes met. Silica quickly looked away.

Silica changed the subject: "Your eyes are very red. Use this." She handed him a small vial of eye drops. "Herbal infusion," she said."

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Outside, the rain, previously a hesitant drizzle, had turned into a torrential downpour. The water lashed against the Guild House windows, a furious sound, muffled by the thick walls.

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"The time has come. It seems the Seven have heard your prayers," said Silica, pointing to the window showing the rain."

Leonard looked at the window. The weak late afternoon light, filtered by the rain and the fogged glass, transformed the landscape into a watery blur of grays and shadows.

"That... will help," he murmured, his voice almost disappearing under the noise of the storm. The rain would be an ally, a natural curtain to hide him from prying eyes.

Silica nodded. A short, precise movement of her head.

"Mount Lichtwelt," she said, her voice laden with a silent warning. "Be quick, don’t slow down, stop only when you reach the flower maze." She paused, her eyes fixed on his. "They wouldn’t dare be there."

He knew. Edward’s spies would not be staining the soil of Mount Lichtwelt. Gothia would not let that pass, much less happen.

Leonard took a deep breath, the humid air filling his lungs. The weight of the cloak was now a reminder of the task ahead, and the rain was a challenge to be overcome. The fear... would have to wait.

"I’m going," he said, his voice firm, his eyes fixed on the door.

The leather cloak, heavy and stiff, protected Leonard from the torrential rain. The water ran down the surface of the cloak, forming small cascades that fell to the soaked ground.

Gothia, under the storm, was a blurred watercolor of grays and shadows. Every step, an effort. The mud of the streets made every corner a reminder of threat.

He crept through the less busy streets, following the mental map he had drawn before leaving the Guild House. Narrow streets. Dark alleys. The smell of wet earth and fresh brick mixed with the scent of rain and the leather of the cloak.

Silica’s perfume calmed him in that desperate moment somehow.

The sounds of the city – the distant clatter of horses, the occasional shout of a street vendor, the tolling of church bells – came muffled by the storm and the cloak.

Leonard remained alert, his senses heightened. Any sudden movement, any suspicious look, made him stiffen, ready to activate his ELEV and defend himself.

He passed guards a few times. He showed his GHMC, but nothing happened. They were probably Gothian guards and would have nothing to do with Lumeria.

The cloak and hood helped him, but his heart beat erratically at each encounter, wondering how long his luck would hold. With every suspicious look, he diverted his path, shrugged his shoulders, and tried to blend into the darkness and the rain.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he reached Mount Lichtwelt, which appeared before him, shrouded in mist. He already knew that place, so it wouldn’t be so difficult to move internally.

"I’m coming, Roland," he whispered to himself.

The main entrance, heavily guarded, was an unnecessary risk. Leonard avoided it, circling the wall, looking for an alternative. He found an older section, where the stone was worn and the vegetation was sparse.

He climbed with ease. He activated his ELEV and climbed the wet and slippery surface without problems. The leather cloak, although protecting him from the rain, limited his movements, but he managed.

Inside the great maze of flowers and tombstones, silence. A heavy, dense silence. The silence of the dead was only interrupted by the sound of the rain that fell relentlessly.

Mount Lichtwelt, under the heavy rain, completely lost its beauty and magic. It was a sea of tombstones and mausoleums, a labyrinth of stone and shadows among gardens that seemed forgotten there. The water ran down the tombstones, washing away the names, dates, and lamentations.

Leonard walked aimlessly, searching. Roland. "Where?"

He passed stone angels with broken wings. Marble crosses, moss. Obelisks, rose plantations. Each name he read, a pang of unease in his stomach. Lives and stories that only offered him anxiety, to urgently reach the tombstone of his destiny.

Then, he saw from afar the newly dug soil. He quickened his pace, his heart racing.

Not far from a tall, old, ancient oak tree, a marble tombstone, a perfectly carved bear adorned with silver threads. Surprisingly, he noticed that he was near his mother’s tombstone, and that realization was a punch.

"Could it have been Evelyn?" He thought.

Leonard fell to his knees on the ground without resistance, between the tombs of his mother and Roland.

The rain on his face made it difficult to read, but his fingers traced letter after letter, drawing in his mind the epitaph written.

ROLAND SILVERBACK, FIRST SUPREME COMMANDER OF DUNKEL, FRIEND, LOYAL AND PROTECTOR. HERE RESTS THE BRAVEST SILVER BEAR.

Leonard stopped. The air was absent from his lungs. His hands were weak. The rain, merciless. A trapped scream about to break in his throat.

The tears, now, were free.