Hello everyone,
For the longest time I have wanted to write a story that has been floating around in my head. I grew up on anime, stories, and games in the fantasy genre which have greatly contributed to most inspiration and are the driving force behind my work. After many years or writing I have finished my book which I have titled Monster. It totals 35 chapters and 470 pages in the native Word document I wrote it in.
Being that I have been a member of the Anime Suki community for about as long as I have been working on it I feel the members of this site would find it enjoyable and at the least offer some thoughts and critique, being that many of us share the same tastes. I would like to share the first two chapters and appreciate any feedback or questions anyone might have. I do not plan to make any other chapters freely available at this time.
I hope you find the opening of my book enjoyable and please leave any feedback you might have! Please forgive the formatting or lack of therefor during the transfer of the text.
Spoiler for Cover:
Spoiler for Opening:
The fabric of time flows through space just as memory flows through history. A world that was once can rise once more. But is the past the best? Were there not flaws which led to its demise? Is it not better to push forward, though there may be nothing left? Imagine such a place: a world at its end. Consumed and totally depleted to a point that the past is something so foreign, so unknown and feared, it is taboo. Journey to this world hanging from the ledge of life with all desperation. Journey to hear his story.
Spoiler for Chapter 1:
-1-
The small fishing village of Thule lay in between the vast Arms Mountain range, seeming to encircle it and the Lake of Tears. Housing less than fifty cottages, if they could even be called that, Thule was a society in its own world. Fish have been abundant for years, and the soil is rich and produces excellent crops every season. Every need is supplied for the denizens of this small community, but some rest uneasy. The rocky peaks of the Arms embrace the settlement, as if it were protecting it from some great danger. Passage in and out into the forest is limited by a small opening, shrouded in mist. Every number of years, adventurous young men and women seek to find new sustenance in life, and journey through this path to the world unknown. Not one has ever returned.
***
The woman wiped her brow with the back of her calloused hand and let out a deep sigh, looking towards the setting sun in the distance. She had been working to prepare the crops for this season’s harvest all day. One more day’s work with her son and things would be finished, she thought. She stood for several moments in a daze, as if she would be pulled away into the sky at any moment. The fading sun projected a splash of color onto the heavens. She chased the horizon with her eyes until it was no more. The display faded and a blue and black starless void hung in the sky like a dark omen.
In a vision, she saw the man who had departed so long ago walking into the misty forest. His pace was slow, but he made great progress. Run as she might, the faster her legs moved, the greater the distance between the two grew. The mist thickened and began to envelop the man. First his feet and legs, then his torso and arms. She tripped and fell to the ground, and the mist began to dissipate. Before her was no forest, but a canyon with no bottom to it. She gazed in awe, visibly stunned at the vast distance that had come between her and the man. On a far cliff on the other side he stood, slowly turning his head to look back. He looked back and smiled with a sad expression on his face, as if to say don’t worry about me. She then heard his words vividly, though his lips did not move.
“Saya, I will return,” was all he said.
She blinked, and in that moment, the two returned to the forest of mist. As she looked up at him, the figure began to shrink and distort.
“Mother, Mother!” it shouted.
Finally, the build returned to that of a boy: her son. The forest disappeared and the boy stood in front of his mother in exhaustion. He stood a little over five feet, had flowing blonde hair reaching down to his shoulders, tied back in a pony tail, and a non muscular build, despite the work he did. He shouted one final time, and she had completely returned to herself.
“Mother! What are you doing falling asleep out here? The day’s over, let’s pack up and go home,” he said while reaching his hand down to help her up.
She took his hand and rose to her feet then wobbled about, lightheaded from the rush of blood.
She gazed at him happily, as if to affirm it was really him and said, “Saerin?”
“What is it?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she sighed. “Let’s head back home.”
“All right, I’ve already gathered up my tools.”
The two returned to their home under the setting sun. The other farmers had already departed for the day. Some were eating or talking in their homes, while some were already in bed. Saya glanced at the homes as they walked past. Seeing a family together was almost a sad sight for her. She wished such a thing could have happened for her and her son.
Saerin noticed her uneasiness out of the corner of his eye and lowered his glance to the ground.
“Thinking about Father?” he inquired.
“No, not really. I just wish we could have been a family together. And that you could have known him.”
“I know enough,” Saerin scoffed and continued in a sarcastic tone, “He left you before I was born to venture out into the vast and incredible world outside of Thule.” He stopped to open the door to their house, letting his mother in. “There’s nothing out there, and even if there was, it’s nothing good,” he said under his breath as he closed the door behind them.
Saya told her son about his father leaving Thule sixteen years ago many times in a manner that might help impart an impression of worth upon him. He felt a calling, she would say. He knew there was something out there and he wanted to find it. There is a world out there, and he wanted to discover it. However, each time she would reminisce about him, Saerin felt nothing but loathing and anger towards the man. Leaving friends and family for a selfish and useless ambition, abandoning them, was treasonous. Despite Saya saying she believed that he would return some day, Saerin always remarked to the contrary. In time, she gave up her attempts of trying to illuminate her son of his father’s memory and accepted his resentment. She would never have imagined just how soon he would return.
The sun had yet to rise, but a clamor sounded as if a great harvest had ripened. It was far too early in the season for such a thing, as the crops had just been planted. But there was something else, a feeling of uneasiness running through the blood of every man and woman who heard the commotion: something was terribly wrong.
Saya awoke to the rowdiness and looked out her window to find many people crowding around the path in the center of town. Some knelt and held lanterns and candles all about, as if it would help deter the darkness of the night. Saya stepped back and peered into the next room. Saerin was still asleep, indifferent to the shouting from outside. He had worked most of the day and was duly exhausted. Quietly, as if she thought a slight sound would wake her son over the commotion outside, she put on her shoes and ventured out.
The semicircle of people seemed an impregnable wall, but with enough force, she managed to make her way through after several moments. In the center lay a man, bloody and battered clutching a long wrapped object. His hair was a natural red, though the fluid that coursed through his hair only brightened it. As Saya moved closer, a sudden terror overcame her and slowed her movement, as if she was being frozen in place. One villager attending to the injured man rolled him onto his back. Seeing the man’s face froze Saya mid step. A greater clamor erupted, but was silent to the frozen woman.
“Ren?” Saya whispered, still unable to move.
“All right now,” a voice said from the crowd. An older man made his way forward and stopped next to Saya, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get him inside and cleaned up.”
Immediately two young men came forth from the crowd and carefully lifted the injured man. The two shifted their heads toward the older man but did not say a word. The older man gestured a welcoming hand toward the lake as if he were inviting them into his home. As he did, the two young men nodded silently and went forth, carrying the injured man. Saya followed closely behind, then came the older man who was then accompanied by the rest of the villagers.
They arrived to an open hut by the lake consisting of only three walls and a roof. It was more of a storage facility than a hut but it contained a bed among other things. The injured man was gently laid down on the bed and the object he held placed at his side on the fine sandy ground. The older man withdrew into the crowd but was immediately replaced by several others. They came swiftly to the side of the injured man and began to bandage him and clean the excess blood covering him. It was all done swiftly and systematically but without word or command. Each of the people knew their roles and attended to them with great urgency, as if it were simply the natural reaction to take.
Some hours later, the injured man’s crowd had not dwindled, despite it being time to start work in the fields. Every now and then an attendant would come and check his bandages, sometimes removing and discarding them, as his wounds had closed and bled no more. Eventually, the bandages were removed from the patient’s torso, left leg, arms, and part of his head. The injured man began breathing more easily and steadily.
The old man came forward and spoke once more. “He will wake soon. Our presence may startle him and we want no further damage done to him than has already been inflicted. Come, we must be off and leave him to gather his wits.”
The crowd began to disperse and as they did, started to converse.
“He came back.”
“Is it really him or is that an outsider?”
“Is there really something more outside the forest?”
“Whatever there might be, it cannot be good. Look how he battered he was.”
“All those injuries...what happened to him?”
“That’s not natural. It must be a disease from the outside.”
“This is a dark omen indeed.”
“We will be here should you need us,” the old man said as he left.
Saya nodded and knelt by the side of the injured man. Every second felt like a minute, and every minute, an hour. Some time passed and the wounded man’s complexion began to improve rapidly. A few moments later, he roused and opened his eyes. He breathed in deeply for several seconds, as if he has never taken a breath in his life. A silhouette began to lurch over him and he cringed. Were that he be able to move, he surely would have jumped.
The visage of Saya loomed over him, still blurry. As his vision sharpened, he slowly felt an aura of calm and comfort envelop him. He felt his body melting and returning to the earth itself. As he was about to let go and succumb to the bliss, a familiar voice called out to him.
“Ren, is it really you?” Saya whimpered, nearly on the verge of tears.
The wounded man thought for a long time, as if the person in front of him was someone that had returned from the grave.
After several moments he spoke. “Saya,” he said, “I’m home.”
***
At the same time, Saerin had awoken. Still in bed, he lay on his back staring at the ceiling. Not knowing why, he felt uneasy, almost sick. The pain was not an immobilizing one by any means, but more of a sensation seething through his blood. He turned towards the window, using a hand to cover his eyes from the glaring sun. The feeling intensified, and he rolled to his other side, as if to try and avoid it. The sun beckoned him to rise and start the day, but his uneasiness left him withdrawn. He curled into a fetal position, trying to avoid the light. The feeling began to subside, but far too slowly for his liking. Something was very wrong.
With that thought, he sprung from his bed, like an animal pouncing on its prey. He changed his clothes quickly, all the while shifting his eyes from the window to the doorway, almost as if he was expecting something to come at any moment. As he finished, he glanced one more time from side to side, and proceeded to his mother’s room. He waited by the door, listening for a sign of activity.
After a few seconds, he called out, “Mother? It’s time to get up.” He waited, but received no response. Taking a step in, he began to call again, only to be cut short at the sight of her vacant bed. “Where could she have gone?” he thought.
Filled with dread, he recalled his earlier discomfort. Running out of the house without as much as putting on his shoes or closing the door behind him, he darted out into the village.
***
Ren lifted himself upright with Saya’s help and slowly brought a hand to his chest. He began searching for his wounds but found none. Uneasily, he looked himself over for sign of any injury at all but just like his hands there was nothing. There were no wounds, no scars, or so much as a bruise on his body. He sighed and looked content, as if he had overcome a great obstacle that had burdened him.
“So,” he began, “I’m not like them.”
Saya stared at him baffled, but finally spoke. “You aren’t like them? Like who? What are you talking about? Who are they?”
Ren turned to her and hugged her in a loving embrace. He pulled back after some time and looked into her eyes.
“It’s different outside of this village,” he said with a deep sigh. “It’s hard to explain, but the people outside…” He was promptly cut short in his explanation.
“You found others outside the village?” Saya inquired with amazement.
“Yes,” Ren said sadly. “There are others, but they aren’t like us. They aren’t normal. They do terrible things to one another just to get by. And they are so different from us.”
“What do you mean?”
Ren shook his head. “They age so rapidly and their wounds remain open for so long. It is as if they are constantly fighting against time and losing. I was not sure at first, but when I saw you again and knew you had not changed, I really knew. I fear that I have almost lost my mind wondering if my memories were correct.” Ren looked away in shame before he could speak again.
Saya put one hand to her heart and another to Ren’s. She breathed deeply and spoke. “You can’t doubt yourself like that. But you are safe now that you have returned.”
“Yes, I’ve returned. I won’t ever leave again. I promise.”
Saya tilted her head to the ground and began to sob. “Oh, Ren…”
There was a stomping of feet against the sand and suddenly a figure appeared in the doorway: he was a black silhouette covered by the sun.
“Who are you? Get away from her!” It was Saerin. He rushed to his mother’s side and knelt to see if she was injured. After a quick glance, he stood and spun towards Ren. There was something by his side, wrapped in cloth. Its smell startled him for some reason, but he did not know why. He threw an arm in front of his mother to protect her from the man and shouted, “Answer me! I’ve never seen you before, and nobody comes from outside!”
Saya tugged on Saerin’s shirt gently and spoke. “He’s your father, Saerin.” Saerin’s eyes grew wide, as he glanced to his mother and then back to Ren.
“This boy is our son?” Ren said with a smile. “I never knew of…”
Saerin struck Ren across the face with a force that nearly sent him crashing down. “Of course you never knew!” Saerin shouted, enraged. “You left Mother before I was even born and made her live a life of solitude!”
“Saerin, please stop!” Saya pleaded.
“No, I will have none of this.” As Saerin spoke, Ren gritted his teeth and looked up on Saerin in shame. “Mother, for your sake alone,” he said, turning to her and then back to Ren, “I won’t do anything here. But mark my words, man: you are no father of mine.” Saerin finished, storming out of the ward.
A long silence came over the two, as they both looked towards the ground in disbelief. What seemed a long time passed before Ren regained himself and helped Saya to her feet. His mind replayed the images set before him countless times before any words came to mind.
“I never knew,” he said. “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”
“No, you are not the one to blame for this. No one is. Nothing could have been done to prevent this.”
Once he was able to stand, Ren began to move about the ward, making sure his balance was fine. He took Saya’s hand and led her out to the shore outside the ward. The two sat down in the sand and stared outward onto the lake. Saya began to speak of their son, and all else that had developed while Ren was away. He remained silent however, still distraught by his encounter earlier.
“I think,” Saya said, “it might have been my doing. I always spoke of how I wished the three of us could have lived together.”
Ren nodded in turn. “But there is no hope to rebuild ourselves now, is there?”
Saya shook her head. “I don’t think there is. It would take a miracle to change his mind at this point. He thinks you abandoned us.”
“He has every right to think that,” Ren sighed, “I have done nothing to warrant his trust or love.”
“But we both saw it that night,” Saya reminisced. “That person. You didn’t have a choice.”
“Yes,” Ren replied. “That’s right.”
The two sat at the shore a while longer in silence. The matter of their family had left Saya holding back an important question on her mind. What exactly happened to Ren to injure him so horribly? Normal cuts and bruises heal with ease, but his were so severe, it was if they were made intentionally. She suddenly remembered his words from earlier, in the outside world there were people who did terrible things. Could someone have injured Ren purposely? She turned pale just from the thought of such a barbaric action.
“I just wish we could be a family,” Ren said one more time.
***
Saerin sat against the foot of a tree on the edge of town. It was still early in the day with much to be done, but he found himself unable to bring himself to his feet. He had locked himself into a mental battle with himself, seething with anger over the return of the stranger who was his father. How could he be forgiven, how could he at least be acknowledged?
“Mother seemed so happy to see him. But why? Why would she act like that towards someone who abandoned her in the past? And not only her, but he abandoned me as well!”
Saerin rose and surveyed the small village, as if he could spot his father from where he was. He turned away and swore, then headed back to his home to collect his tools and begin his work for the day.
He made his way out and began working in the fields, planting the remainder of the crops for this season. He normally worked with his mother to accomplish that goal, but today his rage fueled his determination. He wanted to finish as quickly as possible so he could go to bed, despite it still being mid day. While he was tired from working, and rest would be welcome, he pushed on for another reason. He felt a great, sharp pain in his head.
The falling of the sun signaled the end of a work day for those in the fields. The land began to clear itself of inhabitants, as the villagers packed up their tools and began a trek to their homes. Little work could be done in the dark, and were it done at all, its quality would be shoddy. Saerin felt differently, however. Each hole and seed was one more vent for his rage, and he had years of it built up within him. He worked his way up and down the plot of land until there was no more. He turned at the scenery and glared with disappointment. The workmanship was tolerable, but obviously not his regular quality. He had worked alone today, although it was intentional. His mother had come to see him many times and offered support. But each time he would stop and make a sad smile, saying he just wanted to be left alone.
There was nothing more to do today, he thought, as he packed up his tools and left the field. He was exhausted and hungry, but a feeling he had urged him to wander aimlessly. As he walked, he felt his body become lighter with each step. Subtle at first, it soon became very noticeable. The weight of the tools in his hands felt like nothing. His legs carried him wherever he wished, never depleting, never tiring. Before long, he felt so light that he thought he was almost able to fly.
Then something happened to his vision he could not understand. He held his head for an agonizing moment then shook it. When he stopped, he did not see normally. His vision branched everywhere. Forward and behind, left and right, up and down; near and far, everything was laid plain and visible. Saerin keeled to his knees and clenched his stomach with one arm and his head with another hand. He felt sick and nauseated. Soon, his perspective began to spin and blur. Barely able to make out a figure in the distance, he cried out in pain, and mercifully lost consciousness.
***
Ren and Saya had long since returned to their home. Dinner was prepared and ready, but neither of them ate. They waited patiently for their son, but the remaining daylight had nearly gone.
“It’s getting late,” Saya spoke glancing out the window. “I’ll go look for him and tell him to come home.”
Ren stood up promptly and bellowed in a remorseful voice, “I will come too. He is my responsibility as well.”
The two ventured out into the dark village. Heading towards the fields, they looked in all directions and called out to their son with no reply. Saya looked baffled over the sudden disappearance.
“Where could he have gone?” she remarked, starting to worry. “Or maybe he’s gone back home already. I’ll check, you keep looking for him.”
“Right.”
Ren made his way forward, nearly reaching the misty forest, the exit of the town when he stepped on something dull and metal. He knelt down to examine the object. It was a farming tool. Upon closer inspection of the land, he found footprints nearby. A rustling and breaking of twigs underfoot brought his attention to the forest. Though the tracks did not lead in that direction, it must be his son, he thought.
“Saerin!” He shouted into the foreboding wood.
“Saerin?” a voice mimicked, hidden behind tree and plant alike. “So then I presume you know the locals here? Oh, even better. You’re Ren, aren’t you?”
The figure appeared from out of the brush. He was a tall, bald man, dressed in fine leather armor with a silver sash around his arm. At his side, clasped to his belt, sat a fastened bludgeon. Ren reared his head back, as if he had taken great offence to the man’s gesture.
“That attire...” Ren whispered, deep in thought. “You’re with the Martin Company.”
The bald man chuckled and took a deep bow. “Yes,” he said. “I am Eldin. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Or rather, to catch up with you.”
“What are you talking about? How did you find this place?”
“Simple, Mister Ren,” Eldin began, “you didn’t think we would actually let you go? We thought we’d let you run for a while to see where you would go. Unfortunately, we lost you, for a time, but all the better. You seem to have led us to our goal.”
“I’ll do nothing more for you people. Leave this place now.”
Eldin chuckled, “But you already have.” He waved a hand toward the village of Thule. “You have brought us to our destination. That priest was a rather sharp man of the cloth.”
“I don’t know who or what you’re even talking about,” Ren shouted.
“Rather than continue to send out parties to search for this place he suggested we use one of its natives to lead us here. How he knew that was you I will never know, but it doesn’t matter. We can now clear out this area and report its location.”
“There are people living here! They know nothing of the outside world and your malicious ways. All they do is work for their land and their families.”
“Outside world? I hope they’re all as eccentric and gullible as you. That would only make things even better. Gullible slaves are easier to train and sell,” Eldin said with a smirk.
Ren eyed the man’s weapon. It seemed heavy and durable, the type that could shatter bone upon impact. “It’s still irrelevant. There is no way you can conquer them yourselves, and I won’t give you a chance to do it.”
Eldin looked around in disappointment. “You won’t have a say in the matter. I shall take it, but you would do well not to stand against me. I can most certainly take over this settlement. As we have been talking, you failed to notice that I am very much not alone. I have another ten men with me, and look! They seem to have started their rampage.”
Ren spun towards the village. In horror, he saw some of the nearby houses beginning to burn, and many others soon catching fire.
***
At the scene, several men, armed with sword, spear, and dagger had encircled a number of villagers, blocking any hope of escape. The men and women, while normally docile, voiced protest and restraint.
An older man asked, “Who are you people and what are you doing here?”
One of the thugs replied with his fist, “Shut up and do as you’re told and there’ll be no trouble!”
“How dare you! What kind of people are you to use such violence?”
The thugs were taken aback by this comment for a moment but then burst into laughter.
“This kind,” one of them exclaimed. He took his dagger and stabbed the old man.
The old man fell to the ground, and the thugs howled in laughter. The villagers looked on in horror of the savage actions of the armed outlanders. One by one, in union, their voices were cut short as the old man slowly rose to his feet, holding his wound in amazement.
“You would harm us!” the old man shouted.
“Impossible,” the thug who had stabbed him muttered. “How is he still alive?”
The old man spoke, phased not from the attack, but purely from emotion. “A wound is a wound. But you intend to kill someone? What kind of madmen are you?”
Outraged, many villagers rose to their feet and readied themselves. The thugs clamored amongst themselves in confusion. Suddenly, the old man lunged at the thug. The two fell to the ground, locked grappling fists and limbs covered in sweat. The thug reached for his knife and stabbed again. The old man faltered imperceptibly. In shock, the thug stabbed again and again. The old man began to weaken visibly and eventually collapsed. The thug rose to his feet.
“What the hell was that? What was he made of?” the thug exclaimed.
Some other villagers took this opportunity to attack as well. They were slashed and stabbed in return, but quickly rose to their feet. Soon, all the villagers were up in arms, ready to defend themselves.
The first thug, still in amazement shouted, “Don’t let up! They may be tough, but they still bleed and die!”
***
Saya had barely reached the door to her home when she heard the first scream. She paused in confusion and looked warily over her shoulder. Smoke was rising to the sky in an alarming speed and quantity. Turning back to her home, she quickly opened the door and shouted in. “Saerin! Are you here? Come quick, there’s a large fire!” The unity of her family would have to wait a while longer, she thought. With all haste, she ran towards the smoke billowing into the sky.
She arrived at the scene, only to be greeted by a sea of blood and fire. Corpses of the villagers lay maimed and utterly destroyed in every direction. Never before had she seen such a situation of carnage and cruelty. She fell to her knees, before the array of the dead. Suddenly alerted by a shout, she raised her head to see someone sprinting towards her.
***
Saerin forced himself to his feet. He wobbled and felt dizzy as the blood rushed to his head. Warily he opened his eyes and peered around. His vision had returned to normal, and the pain had gone, but a lingering sensation remained in his mind. He sensed something was not right. Turning and looking in all directions, only to see a number of people running. Moving closer, he discovered a number of them were dressed oddly and chasing the others.
To his shock, the pursuers lifted their weapons and struck down the villagers, stabbing and striking them over again until they stopped moving. Saerin dropped to the ground, as if to blend in with his surroundings and hide from the attackers. The mob quickly wandered off into the village, giving Saerin a chance to reveal himself. He rushed over to his neighbors, only to find them unmoving and unresponsive. It was the first time he had seen someone like this. This was surely what was called death.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed another figure running. This one was alone and clothed different than the invaders or the villagers. His red hair flowed in the wind as he ran. His clothing was unmistakable. The man was his father, it was Ren.
In a moment in time, the eyes of the father and son met. The son called out for help, but the father continued running. He ran towards the lake. Saerin sank into the ground, overcome by grief.
“Again. How could you?” he whimpered.
He rose to his feet, realizing his worries had not ended. Another thought came to mind, which made him shiver. His mother was still in the village somewhere. She was in danger. He ran towards the center of the village to find it engulfed in flames. Corpses were scattered everywhere, as was the stench of death. In the distance, he noticed someone sitting amongst the carnage. A survivor, he thought. He rushed onward with all his might. With each step, the person before him became more and more visible. It was a woman. It was his mother. He smiled and wept tears of joy. She was safe.
In an instant, his nightmare became real again. An outlander approached silently from behind, weapon in hand and ready to strike. Saerin screamed out, “Move! Run!” While his words were heard, the action was not done in time. As the thug struck, Saerin saw a flash before his eyes.
Saya sat in awe, covered in blood. But the blood was not her own. Someone was standing in front of her: someone had used himself as a shield. The bloody man unraveled a long object that was covered with cloth. Underneath it was a sword. He stabbed deep, slaying the thug in an instant. At that time, he, too, collapsed.
Saerin reached his mother and the bloody man. The mother and son looked on in awe at the sight that had unfolded before them. They blinked and turned their attention to their savior. It was a strangely dressed man. A strangely dressed man with red hair.
Saerin saw the man and was paralyzed. Saya lowered herself to see what had happened. It was Ren. She cradled him in her lap gently. He was still alive, though just barely.
“It looks like I made it just in time,” Ren said, coughing up blood as he spoke.
“Ren!” Saya shouted.
Saerin saw the sword by his hand and the cloth it was wrapped in. It looked just like the cloth that Ren had with him when he entered town. Just like the one he left at the ward.
“Don’t die on us,” Saya said, trying to cover his wound.
“It can’t be…” Saerin said, almost in complete silence. “You didn’t…”
Ren coughed and gagged once more, his condition worsening by the second. His wound was deep, and many vital organs had been hit.
“It seems this will be our last time as a family. I’m sorry for everything, Saerin. I wished I could hear you call me Father.”
Saerin felt a chill run down his spine. When he saw his father earlier, he was not ignoring him. He knew Saerin was fine. The only reason he kept running was so that he could hurry and retrieve his weapon. His goal wasn’t to abandon his family, but to protect them.
“No, this can’t be,” Saerin said, moving closer to his father and kneeling beside him. “You can’t die, not now! Come on, snap out of it!” He shook him violently several times. Each time he did, his voice resonated louder and louder. He stopped suddenly, realizing the cold emanating from the body.
“Father, no. I…” Saerin’s breath ran out, and he looked to his mother. She began to cry, and clenched his body tighter than before. Saerin clenched his teeth tightly and beat his fists against the ground.
Spoiler for Chapter 2:
-2-
Amidst the raging flames, the mother and son remained, lamenting in silence. Even if one was to yell, the roar of the pyre would not let a single word out. The fire seemed to eliminate everything in its path. The town, the people, their way of life, and those they love. Everything was gone in that instant and would never return, no matter how great an effort was made.
Saya rested Ren’s body on the ground, content that all that could be done was done. She turned to her son, who had since moved off to keep watch. She wanted to hold him tight and tell him that it was okay. But it was not, and truly, the one needing comforting was her. Saerin turned to her in haste and helped her up.
“We have to get out of here now,” he said, visibly worried. “Those people are still around somewhere. We’ve got to get away as fast as we can.”
Saya rose to her feet and looked around in all directions. She saw a small opening in the fire from the corner of her eye in which the two of them could escape.
“This way,” she said, leading her son. Before departing, Saerin gave his father one final glance of acceptance and picked up his sword lying on the ground.
The two escaped the inferno, but did not stop moving. Every step taken away from the fire was one step towards freedom and security. With each step they became more and more energized as they avoided the burning flame.
Clear of the fire, they began to run. They covered more and more distance, but suddenly realized where they were. In their haste, they had not run away from the village but farther into it. Finding themselves by the lake, they stopped to catch their breath.
“No,” Saya said, “we went the wrong way?”
“It’s okay, we can go around the side of the mountain and escape into the forest,” Saerin replied. Though night had fallen, much of the area around was illuminated by the nearby inferno. In the distance ahead, Saerin spotted two of the invaders. He and his mother hid behind a nearby piece of debris that had already burned completely. Waiting for several minutes, they waited for a chance to escape. The men seemed to be coming closer, as if they deliberately knew there were survivors hiding amongst the ruins.
Saerin clenched the sword in his grip, ready to strike. All the while his mother looked on in fear. They stopped just before they would make visible contact and went separate ways. The tension had left Saerin sweating and shivering. Peering out again, he took his mother by the hand and ran off with her.
They ran through a corridor of debris with the forest in sight. Succor was nearly in reach. As they came upon the last of the destroyed hallway, a figure walked perpendicular to their course. Saerin’s lips curled and he raised his sword. The blade pierced his chest, but not before the intruder could let loose a yell.
“Damn,” Saerin remarked. He turned and looked in all directions, as if he could slow any advancement of pursuit just by locking gaze with them. They began to come from behind, so the mother and son darted forward. To their right and left, they slowly began to find themselves cornered, though one direction remained open. Saerin looked back to his mother following behind, making sure she was still with him, despite the fact they were still holding hands. Saya’s face turned to horror in an instant, and she screamed something.
Saerin turned to find another oppressor in front of him. The bald man raised his club and struck swiftly towards Saerin’s head. Saerin collapsed to the ground with a great force that nearly pulled his mother down with him.
“Saerin!” Saya shouted, stopping in her tracks. She moved to the ground to help him, but he had suffered a concussion from the blow and was unconscious. The thugs began to encircle her, as did a great feeling of terror.
Eldin put his club to his shoulder and laughed. “Saerin, huh? I’ve been hearing that name a lot today. First from Ren and now from you.”
Saya looked up in awe and spoke. “Ren? You know him?”
“Of course,” Eldin replied, “he’s the one who brought us here.”
“Brought you?” Saya scoffed. “He arrived just yesterday with…” she paused to fully assimilate her thoughts. “I see. So you’re the ones who did this to him.”
“We bruised him a bit, if that’s what you mean,” Eldin chuckled. The men in turn laughed in union.
“How could you do something so brutal? What kind of people are you?”
“I could ask the same. What kind of people are you? Living in an enclave like this, having bodies that don’t feel pain. I think it’d be best to get rid of the rest of you right now!” Eldin finished, and he raised his club.
***
Looking to be slightly shorter than he was, with long brown hair and green eyes, donning a flowing black robe, a girl stood before Saerin in a translucent state. Her figure seemed to shift and blur at times, as if it weren’t real at all. Saerin lay unconscious and naked on the cold ground by her feet. She seemed to take interest to the mere sight of him. She brushed her hand against his cheek curiously and giggled. Saerin became aware with that touch. He could not move or speak, but his cognitive abilities were functioning fine. He was hardly able to confirm if there was someone in front of him. A blinding white engulfed him from every direction.
“So you’re awake, young man,” she said, still smiling. “Don’t worry, I know you can’t move or speak. Not with your lips, anyway. You have a bold heart and it speaks clearly; I can hear it well.”
She sighed and looked him over again. “But what are we to do, my little Mystic? You now know the grim reality of the world outside of your Thule. Do you really wish to continue?”
Saerin pondered the girl’s riddles. None of this made sense, he thought. He was fleeing from danger along with his mother when he was attacked. “Mother,” he thought. “I have to save her!”
“I see,” the girl said. “You may yet make it if you go now. I’ll send you on your way, and help you grow a bit. Once you’re done, if you wish it, look for me in the lake.” She held Saerin’s head up and kissed his forehead. He blinked, and found himself elsewhere.
The scenery was pitch black, but slowly brightened as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Saerin’s vision had restored, but it was far from normal. He once again saw forward, backward, right and left, up and down. He could even see himself amidst everything. Remembering his bout of pain earlier, he realized a similar sensation had overcome him once before. This time, however, everything was clearer.
Snapping to attention, he jumped to his feet and snatched the sword he had dropped nearby. His adversaries were still nearby. By a mere glance, and without needing to count, he identified nine of them. They stood huddled around his mother, ready to deliver a finishing blow.
Saerin charged, cutting down one of the men from behind. Before the group could react, he slipped to the side and slashed at another man’s throat. The two bodies fell to the ground with one mighty thud. By this time, the rest of the men had been alerted to Saerin’s presence.
“Kill the brat!” Eldin shouted in rage.
One man thrust a blade towards Saerin, but it struck the air. Saerin saw and heard everything in a moment: the clenching of the muscle, the stab, where it would go, and how fast. Sidestepping, Saerin slashed downward, severing both of the thug’s arms. The man howled in pain for a split second, but his cries were cut off as Saerin’s blade protruded through his chest.
Two more men struck. Both their attacks were intercepted and avoided with the same speed and skill. Saerin curled his lip and struck. A ribbon of blood flew through the air before the men collapsed. The men’s sacrifice had not been in vain, for four more proceeded to take advantage, flanking him from both sides as well as the front. Saerin shifted backwards, only by a small inch. Two of the spearmen in front of him had thrust their weapons deep into each other.
Eldin joined the fray. Terrified by the sheer strength of his opponent, he lost his balance as he charged. Quickly regaining his stance, he barked, “Get behind him you fools!”
The remaining thugs encircled the boy. Saerin stood his ground, unflinching. No one moved, for fear of being slain in an instant like the others. Though only seconds in duration, the pause left everyone sweating. Eldin narrowed his eyes and spoke. “Now you’ll pay for that, you little bastard.”
Saerin remained steadfast, never showing sign of doubt. “No,” he said. As the last sound left his lips, a cold shiver ran down the spines of the men.
Eldin snarled raising his club and preparing to strike. A great force suddenly knocked him back and to the ground. Something moved inside the circle like a blur, and the men stopped and fell to the ground. Saerin materialized, slowing down as if he had spun at a high speed.
Eldin heard a voice linger in his head. It said, “…fall, wretch.” He fell to his knees, and blood began to spurt out from three successive notches across his chest and abdomen. He looked up in disbelief, unable to speak. Before him no longer stood a boy, but a young man, noticeably different in figure. Long black hair flowed down his back and a piercing glare emanated from his crystal blue eyes. The shadowy figure narrowed his glare, as his eyes were blades themselves. Eldin could not discern what he felt that last moment: his soul dissipating or a blade piercing it.
***
Saerin loosened his grasp on the sword and staggered backwards. Whatever fury had possessed him had faded just as soon as it surfaced. He looked down at his hand, covered in blood. It was still locked into a grip and shaking violently. His legs buckled and he collapsed to the ground. Surveying the carnage, Saerin’s stomach began to churn and his omni directional vision faded. Many had died this day, he though, and some by his own hand. His acts were in self defense though. Defending himself and one other, his mother. That was when he remembered.
“Mother!” Saerin shouted and leapt to his feet. He spotted her off in the distance and sprinted toward her. She was still conscious and breathing, though injured in many places. She had been stabbed in numerous spots and lay in a pool of blood.
Saerin knelt by her, calling out desperately. Saya slowly opened her eyes, but showed no emotion.
“Mother, hang on!” he shouted.
Saya blinked and stared. The person before her was someone she had never seen before.
“Who, who are you?” she asked. Saerin was taken aback. It must be because she is so badly wounded, he thought.
“It’s me Mother, Saerin,” he said.
“Saerin? You look so different,” she said, raising a hand feebly to the air.
“Yes, you’re safe now. The bad people are…are gone” he replied, holding her hand. His eyes began to tear as her hand grew colder and colder, and her complexion became more pale by the second.
“Saerin,” she said even weaker than before. “You have to leave this place and live.”
“Mother, don’t talk like that, please!” he shouted.
“You have a kind heart. Don’t let the world outside taint it. And don’t forget to smile.” As the last words left her mouth, her hand fell to the ground. Saerin froze in that moment in time. Everything he knew and everything he loved died in that instant. He felt himself losing his identity. All the peaceful and quiet days were being swept away in a flood of chaos and blood. Clenching his fists, he rose, screaming at the rising sun. As he felt himself fully giving way, he remembered his mother’s last words to him.
“Don’t forget to smile,” her image said. Saerin’s voice silenced, and he felt the darkness retreating, only to be replaced by a sense of emptiness. He slowly walked towards the sun, reaching his hand out, as if begging for solace and some sort of comfort. His legs gave out and he tumbled to the ground. He wanted to cry, but no tears would come. In great mercy, his body gave way completely and he drifted into slumber.
***
He woke a long time later. It was deep into the night, and a full moon hung over the sky illuminating the area around him. Still on the ground, he squinted, trying to make out his surroundings. He was near the lake. The moon shone down onto the water, causing it to glisten and sparkle. It seemed almost as if it were made of crystal. Especially towards the center, he thought.
Rising to his feet and moving closer, Saerin became more and more convinced that the water was not normal. There was something underneath it, causing it to shine in a pale way. Walking knee deep into the water, he was now positive something lurked under its ripples. Just the mere touch of water against him seemed to revitalize him, clearing any remaining fatigue. Any blood and dirt that clung to him was torn off; the water purged him completely.
He began to swim out, feeling awakened and refreshed, but also uneasy. Ever since he had passed out the day before, repeated sensations and feelings seemed to sting at his mind. Something was up ahead, though he knew not what. It called him and drew him in, but its call was not the first one he had heard. He swore he had felt this call before, heard these words previously.
Reaching the center of the lake, the moon glared down upon him and through the water. Looking down, Saerin noticed an object illuminating from the bottom of the lake. He could not make out its exact shape, but it seemed to be some sort of spherical structure. Lights sparkled out from it and up to the moon. The moon in turn sent its reflection back to the orb.
Saerin dove downward into the water. The water was so clear and pure, he could leave his eyes open. He reached the bottom, as well as the object in question. It was a crystalline orb that seemed to float just above the ground. Saerin peered at it inquisitively, the reached out to touch it with a finger. As he connected, the object began to shift violently. A dark void shot out from the cube and encompassed Saerin. It shrunk, and Saerin was nowhere to be found.