Monster (novel)

[Shmoof]

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 days 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 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 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 had 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 awoke. 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 with 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 survive. 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 feared that I had 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 startled 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 to be a long time had 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 restored. 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 in 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 give her 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 stated 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. Spinning and looking in all directions, his vision was bombarded by masses 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 ran to her, smiling and weeping 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 wish I could have heard you call me Father.”
Saerin felt a chill run down his spine. When he saw his father earlier, he suddenly realized he was not being neglectful. He knew Saerin was fine. The only reason that 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 held his body tighter than before. Saerin clenched his teeth 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 in 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 as 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, as 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 if 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 thought, 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 fading, 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 the water against him seemed to revitalize him, clearing away 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 this 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 see perfectly with 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, then reached out to touch it with a finger. As he connected, the object began to shift violently. A dark void shot out from the orb and encompassed Saerin. It shrunk, and Saerin was nowhere to be found.

[RobotCat]

That was a pretty interesting read. Some of the sentences feel like they could be made to flow a bit better, but if you're looking to get this published an editor will probably go over those things.

One major thing that kind of felt a bit off to me was the introduction of Thule via an omnipotent third person narrator. It seems like there really wasn't a reason to reveal the name of the Mountain Ranges, especially since it's unlikely that the villagers themselves would give such a name. You also never use the name again for the first 2 chapters so it seems almost a bit unnecessary. The Lake of Tears also feels a bit too heavy. Even though it's important, it seems like if you're going to throw the name out there, the audience would be hanging on why it's named as such. I feel like having the character (Saerin especially) mentioning something about the lake would be better than outright giving it's name.

I think having a description of the mountain ranges and the lake itself would be better than giving them names with the way you set up the story.

[Shmoof]

RoboCat,

Thank you for taking the time to read and reply to this. I do currently have the entire story available via self online publishing, being that I am a no name author and figured that would be the only feasible way of getting this out. I am relying mainly on the few people who have been given or purchased it already to help with any final tuning.

I like your suggestion for the descriptions of the mountain range and the lake. The mountains are explained a bit more later on, though cryptically. One of the things I want readers to do is think of why I have named or described something the way I did and draw their own theories. I will strongly consider adding more to the lake.

[Kerspunkle]

I enjoyed those first two chapters. Thanks for sharing them with us. The story seemed to have a mysterious atmosphere, which I liked. People tend to be afraid to pick up longer stories, so I think you could shorten less important parts. For example, the scene where they take Ren to be treated could be shortened. I don't know if this makes any sense, but in that scene it should focus more on the mood than on the actions of the characters.

[Shmoof]

Thanks for taking the time to read what I've posted. The mysterious atmosphere is definitely something I am aiming for throughout the entire story. Actually, one of the people who has already finished reading it entirely mentioned something very similar to me.

I am currently in the process of doing more editing and revising (I can't believe how many grammatical issues I've found so far!), so I will keep your suggestion about the mood under careful consideration. I like to think of the first few chapters as the introduction to hook readers in, so I'm glad you liked it.

[Shmoof]

Updated the original two chapters (mostly grammatical) and am adding a few more for those interested. It's doing very well and everyone who has read it in its entirety really seemed to enjoy it. Pardon the multiple posts, but there is a character limit so I have to make multiple posts.

Spoiler for Chapter 3:

-3-
Saerin fell into what seemed an endless cylindrical chasm. On every side, a blue and black liquid substance flowed. The scenery was mesmerizing, and Saerin drifted into a state of euphoria. He could not tell how much time had passed, but he felt himself land safely and softly on his two feet. He was greeted by a cloudless, blue sky. In every direction lay endless patches of green earth. Neither grass nor dirt, the ground was comfortable and left no trace of footprints.
“Is this the outside world?” Saerin said. “There’s nothing here…” Spinning and checking one final time, he paused in shock. Something seemed to materialize that wasn’t there previously. Before him was an elegant garden on both sides of a newly formed pathway of polished stone. Further down was a large pool of water accompanied by a fountain in the center. A small structure was nearby. It was made of smoothened sandstone and on its front were several golden columns. Upon closer inspection, he found the structure to be much larger than it appeared initially. Its insides were lush and exotic: great carpets spanned the halls while statues made of rock and gem alike populated them.
A familiar voice startled Saerin. “We meet at last,” it said. “I’m glad you could make it.” Saerin turned to find a girl wearing a black robe. She smiled warmly as she waved at him.
“I know you,” Saerin said. “You were the one I met back then when I was attacked. I thought that was all a dream, though.”
“That was indeed me,” the girl said as she advanced. “I have been watching you for a very long time. It was only until recently that you finally saw me. I felt your gaze, so I gave you a little push, but…” Her words trailed off into silence.
“But it was too late. I couldn’t save anyone,” Saerin continued, looking to the ground in resentment.
“I’m sorry,” she said, bringing a hand to Saerin’s cheek and wiping his tears. She abruptly hugged him and drew him in tightly. Perhaps out of necessity, Saerin welcomed the enthrallment of the beautiful and mysterious girl. The warm embrace of her touch put his mind in a state of tranquility. There was something about her he knew instinctively but could not understand. Her scent was intoxicating. He brought a hand up to stroke her long brown hair but before he could, her eyes opened and locked with his. Those green eyes that were filled with calm and chaos all at the same time.
The hold was lost and immediately Saerin became very uneasy. With shaking hands, he gently removed himself from the girl’s grasp and stepped back. He found it difficult to match her gaze but when he finally did, he found her full of empathy.
“Anyway,” Saerin stammered, “What happened back then? I felt so strange after you gave me those powers.”
“I gave you nothing you did not already possess,” she replied in turn. “I just sped up your growth a bit. Those abilities are your own. I simply gave you a push forward and awakened them.”
“What are you talking about?” Saerin exclaimed. “Seeing in all directions, hearing and being able to predict how people move? How could I possibly do that?”
The girl’s face changed to one of contemplation. “I see,” she said as she brought a hand to her chin in thought. “You have never been in such a dangerous situation before where you would need such things.”
“Of course not,” Saerin replied.
“Then do you acknowledge that the invaders who sought your life were different somehow?” the girl asked.
Saerin recalled the brief encounter with his father and the attack on the other villagers. Being able to withstand pain and injury was normal, but the outlanders fell to the slightest blow.
“Yes,” Saerin said reluctantly. “They had a very weak constitution.”
“That,” the girl began, “is completely normal.” Saerin regarded her words with oddity as she spoke. “To be injured to the extent you and the others of your village were and to recover so quickly, however, is abnormal.”
Saerin suddenly felt cold. “What are you saying? What kind of creature were those people? They attacked without warning or reason.”
The girl frowned. “That too is normal. They are the normal humans, unfortunately, and it is their nature. Secluded in your village of Thule, you have avoided their kind for generations in their lifespan.” Her words softened. “But you are the first Mystic to return here in a very long time, and the last too, it seems.”
Saerin blinked, startled by the girl’s speech. “What are you talking about, and what is a Mystic?”
The girl smirked and laughed quietly. “This seems so awkward,” she said chuckling, “I didn’t mean that hurtfully, but a Mystic is you. A Mystic is myself.”
Saerin looked very displeased and was thoroughly dumbfounded. The girl’s musings were riddled with questions that only she could know the answers to. She took pity on Saerin’s predicament and with a sigh, she began to explain.
“Regardless,” she said, “I will tell you plainly so you might understand. Many years ago, there was a great catastrophe that decimated virtually all civilization on this world. At the time, there were two types of people inhabiting it: humans and Mystics.”
She paused a moment and put a hand to her chin. “With just a glance, it is impossible to tell us apart. Our bodily builds are visually identical. The difference is in how we are internally. We Mystics possess extraordinary control and mastery over our senses, as well as a more powerful constitution. Mystics endeavored to build civilizations of unity and prosperity with our intellect and wisdom. We did this not physically, but rather mentally. It is difficult to explain and to comprehend. It is something you will come to understand in time.”
She paused, giving the befuddled Saerin a moment to digest her words.
“The other people were humans. They lived scattered around the world, but in larger numbers than Mystics. Their ways were more primitive and crude. They chastised Mystics as abominations, and in turn, Mystics looked down upon the humans as inferiors. But then one day everything changed.”
“Was it that catastrophe you mentioned?” Saerin questioned.
The girl nodded. “What it was exactly I do not know. However, I suspect it was some sort of war between the two people. Regardless, most of the life on this world perished, and the Mystics were no exception. We were wiped out completely, except for one small settlement.”
“And that was Thule?” Saerin softly questioned.
“Correct,” she replied.
“So where are we now? What is this place?” Saerin asked.
The girl smiled and giggled. “This is the pinnacle of our achievements prior to that great catastrophe. This is Eternity.”
Saerin remained quiet for a long time, completely baffled by the musings of the girl. “Wait a moment,” Saerin said, finally collecting his thoughts. “How did you get here? And why isn’t there anyone else?”
She hesitated for a moment, as if she was trying to concoct an elaborate explanation. “Truth be told, I really don’t know how I arrived here,” she admitted at last. “I don’t know why I am the only one, either.”
“Then how do you know the things you do about the world and humans and Mystics?”
The girl frowned. “I don’t really know,” she admitted. “I have scarce memories of before. No, not memories,” she stopped and thought for a moment. “Maybe visions would be more appropriate, as they do not pertain to me. They are fragmented things I have seen but never experienced. However, they are clear enough to put together and make sense of.”
“Does that mean you’ve been living here all this time and you just don’t remember?” Saerin exclaimed.
“Have I?” she innocently inquired.
“That’s what I’m asking!” Saerin shouted with growing impatience.
“I can’t really recall how long it has been,” she said with a shake of her head. “Time has no meaning to me. Especially in this place.”
“You don’t look much older than I do. Maybe only by a few years. Why is that, then?”
“I have always been as you see now. This has always been my form.”
“Do you not age at all? I don’t understand any of this.”
“Exactly that,” the girl replied, “something of this world you simply don’t understand. I don’t understand it entirely either. My first real memory is just existing here. Ever since then, I have watched your birth and growth. Perhaps it is as you said and I just don’t remember. What I do know is that the touch of time and space flow differently here. For instance, you changed after arriving here the first time.”
Saerin looked puzzled. The girl motioned towards the fountain of water, and Saerin knew what she was trying to tell him. He walked to the water’s edge and gazed down.
“What is this?” he said, looking at an unknown figure. The image reflected to his eyes was a young man of a taller build, with black hair and blue eyes. “Who is this person? I never looked like this before.”
The girl moved nearby and looked down with him. “You have simply been changed by the flow of this place. You are still you, but your features have changed some.” Saerin fixed his gaze upon the mirror image in the water.
The pair remained quiet for a while. Saerin winced and covered his stomach. He hadn’t eaten in a day, much less had anything to drink. The girl noticed and laughed in her usual charming way.
“Hungry are we?” she asked cheerfully.
Saerin looked away. He was starving, but he felt reserved and awkward imposing on a stranger. “No, I’m all right,” he said. As he did, his stomach growled angrily.
The girl laughed again. “Your stomach is more honest than your words.” She advanced and took him by the hand, forcibly leading him along into the sandstone palace.
***
There was little time to marvel at the architecture or decorations lining the palace as the girl hastily escorted Saerin through its halls with an unusually firm but gentle grip. What little Saerin saw of the statues and paintings was incredible. He had never seen rocks and gems polished so smoothly or with such excellence. The statues were not of people but always animals or other creatures he had never encountered. Paintings of unfamiliar landscapes were hung on enormous canvases framed in gold or simply painted as murals.
Through an archway off one of the wings, Saerin was brought to a balcony with a vista. He was directed to a luxurious white chair in front of a small round table. Three other chairs of the same design sat in front and to the side of him. Saerin peered outward to the lavish view as the girl hurried off into the palace without so much as a word. Though he did not know how or why, the land went downward into a waterfall and a great body of water below. The splash of the water produced a rainbow, although there was no sun in sight. Breathing in deeply, he felt an overwhelming sense of comfort and serenity at the unusual setting.
“Eternity, is it?” he commented. He then noticed a delicious aroma and began to salivate. He turned back to the table to find it filled with plates of food and drink. Every item and piece looked unique and unfamiliar, but regardless, it looked overwhelmingly delicious.
A soft and familiar voice startled him. “And here we are,” it said. Next to him in a very close proximity sat his hostess.
Saerin nearly jumped out of his chair in surprise. “How did you prepare all this?” he asked. She said nothing in return, but placed one finger on his lips. In her other hand she held a fork made of shining silver that pierced a small chunk of meat.
Using the opportunity and surprise to her favor, she advanced the fork forward and whispered to him, “Open,” as she fed him. Saerin obediently accepted the gift offered to him and slowly began to chew. His palate and tongue began to salivate in a way they never had before. He closed his eyes and held back a tear as he swallowed. This was truly the greatest piece of food he had ever tasted.
When he opened his eyes, the girl was there smiling. She began to reach for another piece but Saerin interrupted her action.
“I can feed myself,” he said in an almost embarrassed huff, realizing what had just transpired.
“I at least made the offer,” his hostess chuckled as she handed over the silver fork.
Saerin continued to eat the variety of meats and other foods he had never tasted before. Each one more delicious than the last. During this time, the girl poured him drinks of a juice Saerin could not identify. It had the characteristics of many different kinds of fruits blended together and it swept away the last of the food in his mouth, leaving a superb after taste. In little time, each plate was clean and Saerin reclined in his luxurious chair full of contentment.
The girl caught his gaze from the side. She studied him with intrigue and a pleased demeanor.
He sat up to attention and faced her and with earnest words said, “Thank you so much. I hardly even know you and I haven’t even introduced myself.” He paused to think. “I don’t even know your name.”
The girl laughed in her normal vibrant way. “Oh, my name? I can’t tell you that,” she said.
Saerin blinked in surprise. “Why is that?”
His hostess smirked. “Simply because I don’t have one. A name is title; something meaningless to me. What is important is the person’s character. What good is such a thing if it doesn’t reflect its owner?”
“But we need such a thing to interact with one another,” Saerin noted.
The girl sighed, “If you insist. But you must be the one to give me a name.”
“I have to?” Saerin quietly said. The girl looked at him intently. She would not let him shirk from this responsibility. Perhaps she even wanted to be given a name. Saerin thought for a long while. A name came to mind and he spoke it, “Morgan.”
The pair remained quiet for some time. The girl looked as if she was deep in thought. She ran a hand down her own cheek and when the last finger slipped away she began to smile. Excitement and light came to her eyes and she erupted, “Morgan! That’s very fitting for me.”
“You really like it?”
“Of course I do. It’s perfect.”
“My name is Saerin.”
Morgan shook her head. “That won’t do.”
“It’s the name my Mother gave to me.”
“And that life of yours has come to an end. You must move forward and live anew. You have given me a new life and I will give you one as well.”
Saerin looked down at the table and frowned. He was in no mood to leave such memories behind, let alone think of them, but Morgan’s words were intriguing and comforting at the same time.
“Then you will be Shadow,” Morgan announced.
“Shadow?” Saerin questioned. “What kind of name is that? It sounds like it would suit one of those killers.”
Morgan looked at him indifferently. She stared at him for several seconds before speaking. “Perhaps. But you are a person made of the lights of this world and you have lived to experience its darkness. There are shadows of loss and sorrow in your heart but also the righteousness and goodness. Can you turn this to strength and persevere or will you let it defeat you?”
Saerin looked pained. “I don’t know what to say or do.”
Morgan smiled in empathy. “Well then, Shadow, you start anew, just like me. Will you move forward with your convictions or will you fall and be consumed?”
“I,” Saerin stuttered. “I will.”
“Then we are partners. You can protect me and I can protect you.”
“Protect you from what?” Saerin inquired.
“What indeed,” Morgan mused as she turned away and gazed at the beautiful scenery.
***
After his meal, Morgan escorted Saerin through the hallways of the palace to a large outdoor opening. Although he felt that Morgan had confused escorting with dragging, Saerin once again gazed in amazement at the lavish area around him. The scenery and architecture of this place changed almost as whimsically as Morgan did. Encompassed by an assortment of rocks that seemed almost out of place was a misty spring. The air was soothing and he could feel the warmth radiating from the water. Saerin moved to the edge of the spring and knelt, placing a finger in the water. It sizzled and stung but he immediately felt rejuvenated. Morgan folded her arms and grew more and more impatient as Saerin tested the water with his hand.
“It’s a bath,” Morgan said.
Saerin, still kneeling, turned. “A bath?”
“Yes. The water here will clean your body and soul. All your worries will be washed away!”
“Well, if you insist,” Saerin began as he stood.
“Perfect,” Morgan declared as she took long strides forward toward him. “In you go,” she cheered with a shove that sent Saerin flying into the spring with a mighty splash.
Saerin bubbled and rose so that only his head was above water.
Morgan pointed and laughed. “Well, now that you’re in,” she said, “I’ll let you get cleaned up. Oh and don’t worry about the clothes, I’ll bring you some new ones.”
Saerin once again bubbled as Morgan skipped happily away. Any attempt to resist Morgan’s comical antics were ultimately futile, especially in her domain. Surfacing, he looked around, making sure he was alone, and then began to remove his wet clothes and set them on the ground outside.
“Morgan and Shadow,” he remarked in a monotone voice as he slipped back into the spring and sunk down to his shoulders.
He recalled his initial meeting with her. She seemed more somber and serious at first. Which was the real her, he wondered.
“Still, she seems to be a good person, even if she is a bit capricious.”
For the first time in a long while, a smile came over his face.
***
Morgan entered her grand bedroom through an open archway. An extremely large unmade bed covered with a fluffy crimson comforter lay to the side of the room. Several windows shared similar colored curtains that draped down from either side. In contrast to the rest of the palace, this room’s sky was one of the night. The windows pushed back the darkness outside, allowing only sparse rays of moonlight to protrude through them. Morgan walked to a large stained armoire and reached a hand out to one of the doors. As she touched it, she paused, trapped in deep thought.
“Now what do I want for myself?” she pondered. She withdrew her hand and moved it to her chin, striking an elegant pose. Many awkward faces and gestures later she exclaimed, “Yes! That will be great!”
She reached out to the door and opened it wide. Inside the vast piece of furniture contained one neatly hung assortment of clothing and pair of footwear on the ground. Giddy with anticipation, Morgan gathered up the batch of clothes and put them down on the bed. Her complete wardrobe lay before her: a dark blue, sleeveless dress that fastened around her neck. Along with it, she had a pair of matching boots and gloves. The gloves covered her forearm up to her elbow, and the boots up to her knees. Wasting no time, Morgan began to tear off her former garments like a child, throwing them to the ground. In less than a minute, she was fully dressed again in her new attire. She skipped and danced across the room with such glee at her new appearance. For a moment, she stopped in front of a mirror to admire herself.
“Perfect, just perfect,” she exclaimed. Morgan spun one last time, landing her sights on the armoire again. “Now I just need something for Shadow.”
***
Meanwhile, Saerin muddled himself deep in thought, relaxing in the extraordinary spring.
“What do I do now, though?” he pondered.
The life he had once known was gone forever. He felt as if his sense of self was leaving him gradually, evaporating into the air. Saerin was but a fleeting memory, as was the small village of Thule. He then remembered Morgan’s words, “There are shadows of loss and sorrow in your heart but also the righteousness and goodness. Can you turn this to strength and persevere or will you let it defeat you?” With this remembrance, a small spark of light was kindled in his heart.
“If there is no home to return to, I’ll build a new one for myself. And if there’s no way left for me, I’ll make my way in the world.”
He stood and gleamed with resolve.
“Saerin of Thule has been laid to rest this day. I must start anew as Shadow.”
In his deep thought, he had failed to hear Morgan’s voice calling him. The door slid open, relieved him of his trance. Morgan stood in the doorway with an armful of clothing. For the first time, they saw each other not as Saerin and Morgan, but Shadow and Morgan. Morgan stared and grinned wryly, covering her mouth with her free hand.
“Aren’t you bold,” she commented, placing the clothing she had assembled for Shadow at her feet. “I’ve seen many interesting things today.” Morgan turned and departed without another word.
Shadow looked perplexed and was completely oblivious as to what had just transpired. His face turned solid red as he suddenly remembered his decency and collapsed himself into the water with a splash.
***
After drying himself, Shadow picked up the mound of clothing lying by the still open doorway. It consisted of short black undergarments, with a dark red coat and pants. Adorning the shoulders and neck of the coat was a black padding with gold stitching. A similar array aligned his wrists and ankles. Under the pile sat a pair of small black boots and gloves. The clothing was well made and was extremely soft.
“Where could she have gotten such things from?” Shadow said as he reluctantly began to dress himself. “This kind of clothing is incredible; I’ve never seen anything like this before. And it fights just right.”
Making sure everything was worn correctly, Shadow gazed back at the luxurious spring. It seemed to become less and less visible as the steam hid it from view. Not thinking anything more of it, Shadow took his leave of the spring.
After a few steps, he paused. “Ah, I forgot my old clothes in there,” he said. Turning around, he peered awkwardly at the area before him. It was even less visible than before, he thought. The steam must have billowed out and engulfed the doorway. Moving closer, he became more and more confused by the sight. The spring area did not appear to be concealed by the steam, but rather seemed to be vanishing entirely. In its wake, was a blue and black nothingness.
The rapidly growing void of nothingness would soon consume the entire area, and with it, him too. Wasting no time, he turned and dashed in the direction he had come from until he was well enough away from the previous room. He walked about aimlessly in search of Morgan, but she was nowhere to be found. Soon, he found himself in the main hall of the building. Something caught his eye that he did not notice before, a giant set of doors.
Approaching them, the door swung open, revealing a room like no other. There was no floor, no ceiling, nor were there walls. It was open space like a beautiful night sky. Stars shone brightly then burnt out as they shot to and fro. And in the center of it all was a glowing blue and black globe of light. Morgan stood impossibly at its side.
“Welcome, welcome!” Morgan announced, beckoning Shadow to enter. But Shadow looked wearily at the lack of any solid ground to stand upon. “It’s all right,” Morgan continued. “Just step out.”
Reluctantly, Shadow moved a leg outward and down, testing the area before him. His foot continued to sink into nothingness until he was fully crouched. He waved his leg around, looking to touch something, anything, that was physical. There was nothing.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Morgan huffed, crossing her arms.
Shadow peered up and withdrew his leg, still crouching before the emptiness. “Trying to not fall into oblivion,” he meekly retorted.
“I told you already, didn’t I?” Morgan commented. “Step out and come here.”
“There’s nothing here to walk on!” Shadow exclaimed. “And I don’t think I can fly to get to you.”
Morgan sighed and shook her head. “You don’t need to fly; just walk.”
“I can’t!”
Morgan yelled in annoyance and somehow, beyond all reason, began to storm toward Shadow. She walked on space itself and made steady progress. Once in reach, she grabbed Shadow’s wrist with an iron grip and pulled him into the void. Shadow yelped as he saw his life coming to an end but miraculously, his feet struck a solid, invisible nothingness. He stumbled and then began to walk, though not without protest.
About halfway between the doorway and the strange globe, Morgan let go of his hand. Shadow shot to the ground, crouching and at first hugging his legs. He soon reached to the floor, if it could be called that, to affirm he was in fact standing on something.
Morgan looked upon him, thoroughly unimpressed. “You’re acting like a scared dog.”
“This isn’t exactly normal,” Shadow declared, still feeling at his feet with his hands.
“Look,” Morgan said at last with some empathy. “It’s as easy as this.” She took a step in an adjacent direction and began weaving all around. Shadow looked on with terror as the girl began to once again walk on nothingness itself. “The first step is the hardest. You just have to move forward.”
Warily, Shadow stood, standing on shaking knees. He took several deep breaths and clenched his fists. Slowly, he lifted a leg and held still for an uneasy moment. His balance began to give and he was forced to move. The lifted foot came down but he did not fall. He had taken his first step in this strange plane of existence.
“There,” Morgan assured. “You can do it. Although if you were going to fall, it would have happened as soon as I drug you out here, wouldn’t it?”
Shadow groaned, realizing the obvious. With a bit more courage he took another step and then another. Before long, his fear had subsided and he moved freely, although he still did not know how. Eventually, he came to Morgan.
“This isn’t normal at all,” he said.
“No, it certainly isn’t,” Morgan said. “This place, Eternity, was made through great effort by the Mystics of old. What little I know,” Morgan trailed off into thought, “is this place is a pocket in time and space.”
“Time and space? What is that supposed to mean?” Shadow demanded.
“Just that,” Morgan said, “it is every span of time in an unlimited space. Anything that has ever been can be here.”
Shadow looked on dumbfounded and was completely speechless for several minutes. Finally he spoke, “I don’t think I understood a word you just said.”
Morgan sighed. “I suppose you don’t. All you need to know is that you can control your time here, and bring into existence anything that ever has been made.”
“Bring it into existence? You’re creating things from nothing?”
“No,” Morgan said sternly. “Not nothing. The power of thought and will is especially powerful here.”
“Wait a moment,” Shadow began. “Is that how you’ve been bringing things like the meal and my clothes?”
“Not just those,” Morgan butted in. “The rooms, the garden, everything. By the way, that outfit seems to fit you nicely,” she said, eyeing him and nodding in approval.
“Really? I haven’t gotten a proper chance to see myself in them,” Shadow replied.
“It’s certainly better than standing around naked,” Morgan jabbed.
Shadow turned, flustered and embarrassed. “I didn’t hear you! You shouldn’t barge in on people.”
Morgan laughed heartily and Shadow moped.
“Oh, you’re no fun,” Morgan pouted.
The pair remained silent for some time. Shadow began moving around and looking in every direction at the multitude of stars. As he approached one, it began to dance about in front of him. Finally, Shadow turned his glance back to Morgan. Their eyes met, and he realized she had been waiting for him. Her eyes shone with a hint of sadness and uncertainty, readying themselves for Shadow’s words. Shadow contemplated every possible way of voicing the thoughts on his mind, but could find no gentle way to phrase it.
“It’s time for me to go,” he said finally, in a somber resolve.
“Go? Go where?” Morgan asked calmly, as she moved towards him.
Shadow hesitated. “To leave this place and return to my own world.”
Morgan narrowed her eyes, locking Shadow within her sight. “Your world? But everyone was killed,” she began. “Anything you could ever want is here in Eternity with me.”
“No,” Shadow snapped, forcing Morgan to halt her advancement. “I want to see my world. There’s more than what I’ve seen in my village. I know that now. I want to learn more.”
Morgan frowned. “But you’ve already experienced it. You met those murderers. Why would you want to face more of them?”
“Because I believe,” Shadow affirmed.
“Believe in what?” Morgan asked coldly.
“I believe it isn’t all like that. There must be good somewhere,” he replied. “And where it isn’t, there are people who are surely suffering. I want to save them, if I can.”
“I figured as much,” Morgan groaned. Her harsh tone of voice began to fade. “You really are hopeless. That sentiment will be the end of you. If you want to leave, the exit is right there,” she said gesturing to the ball of light in the center. “Just remove it, and this place will start to lose its anchor.”
“Remove what?” Shadow questioned. “I don’t see anything in there.” He moved closer, but failed to identify anything within the light.
Morgan looked disappointed. “Reach in,” she said. “It’s there.”
Shadow reluctantly inserted his arm into the sphere of light. He felt nothing inside, and began flailing his arm around. Finally withdrawing in defeat, he stepped back and sighed.
“There’s nothing in there,” he muttered.
Morgan reached in and quickly withdrew her arm. “There’s definitely something in there,” she said. “You just aren’t trying hard enough.”
Agitated, Shadow reached back in, this time with both arms. He flailed around once again. He soon felt one of his hands slam against a hard object. Not even letting the pain subside, Shadow grasped the object and tore it from the light.
As it touched the air, Shadow saw a series of images flash in his mind. A blue and green world sat in the vacuum of space. The point of view fell to the surface of the world, showing a prosperous city made of metals with objects in the sky. It quickly shifted underground to caverns of fire. Nestled in its center was an orb, restrained by a steel cage. Small figures began to destroy the cage and break the orb, and when it broke, those figures were engulfed in flame. The view then shifted upward. The city was in ruins, and countless numbers of people fought and died against an onslaught.
With hope seemingly gone and everything nearly destroyed, a small ray of light beamed onto the field. Numerous blue figures appeared and began to dispatch the invading army. The invaders were pushed back underground and the orb was surrounded. In a final act of desperation, the egg enveloped the entire world in flames, destroying most of it. Time passed, and people began to thrive again, building on top of the debris and earth that had swallowed it.
The vision sent one final image. It was an curious looking sword, with a one edged blade. Shadow instinctively knew what it was, although he had never seen or heard of such a thing. It was a katana with a pale blue blade and a black hilt with gold inlay and cross guard. A foreign voice echoed through his mind in a language he did not know, though it left a lasting impression. It said, “Masamune.”
The vision ended and so did Shadow’s sight. When he opened his eyes next he found himself elsewhere. He stood at the bottom of a large dugout piece of land with a sheathed sword in hand.

[Shmoof]

Spoiler for Chapter 4:

-4-
Shadow glanced up at a clouded sky, as rain began to sprinkle down and wash over him.
“The smell and feel of this place,” he said. “I’ve returned.”
Feeling himself beginning to sink, his gaze shifted to his feet. His boots were being sucked in by a mass of mud. A large, dull rock nearby had nearly been engulfed as well. Taking the opportunity, he freed himself and began to trek to higher ground. Moving forward, he noticed he must have been in some sort of crater by the semicircular shape of the dugout. He spotted something above on the horizon, but could not clearly make out what it was yet.
Leaving the pit, he examined the object. It was a large piece of debris that had long since burnt. Shadow pondered for a moment and felt a cold chill. Raising his head, he noticed many other masses of burnt debris. One seemed barely intact, and he began to inspect it further. It was a worn old house, barely standing. The design bore an uncanny resemblance to the houses that stood in Thule. The house collapsed, and a sudden realization sent Shadow into a state of panic. He looked in every direction to find the same carnage he had left, only much time had passed. The land was dry, and not so much as a single blade of grass would grow. Turning back, he realized the pit he had crawled out of was the lake. It had dried completely, leaving no trace of its pure water.
The village was a barren wasteland with no sign of life. The land seemed to rebuke nature itself and refused regrow. Shadow lowered his head in mourning. After a minute of silence, a voice startled him.
“Well, it seems you’re back,” it said. Shadow looked up in amazement to find Morgan standing before him.
“Morgan? How did you get here?” Shadow stammered.
Morgan moved forward and encircled him. “The same way you did, I imagine,” she said with a mischievous smirk. “I didn’t have much of a choice in my arrival, either.” Her smirk changed to a scowl. “I thought you would only take some of the power that sustained Eternity, but you took everything there was. The plane itself collapsed around me and I was thrown here.”
Shadow looked at the sword in his grip, regarding it oddly. “I did that?” he asked in an innocent tone.
“Yes, of course you did!” Morgan fumed. “Masamune was the greatest source of power there was. I thought you would just take something else and be able to leave.”
“Wait,” Shadow interrupted, “you didn’t want me to take this?”
“No, not exactly,” Morgan sighed. “I just didn’t think you could manifest such a thing. I suspected you had a strong will, but that’s clearly too much.”
“You know what this thing is?” Shadow questioned, raising Masamune parallel.
For the first time, Shadow saw Morgan dumbfounded. She regarded the strange sword with a sense of curiosity and avoidance at the same time. “I don’t remember.”
“What are you talking about?” Shadow questioned.
“I don’t know how I know that,” Morgan stated blankly. “It’s Masamune, isn’t it? Why do I know its name? Why don’t I remember it?”
Silence for a long while.
“Do you think this could be a clue to your memory?” Shadow asked.
Morgan dropped her head. “It could be. I just don’t remember.”
Silence again.
“Come with me,” Shadow declared.
Morgan raised her head and regarded him with curiosity.
“You said we were partners, back then,” he continued. “And that I need to protect you.”
Morgan slowly nodded her head and replied, “Yes I did say that. Maybe I’ll begin to remember if we travel together.”
More enthusiastic than Shadow had imagined, he smiled and said, “Then it’s settled. We’ll leave here together.”
“Of course,” Morgan announced, her tone suddenly changing. “You’re hopeless without me, anyway.”
“Let’s get going then,” Shadow said, starting out. Morgan followed behind and the two left the village of Thule, venturing into the forest covered in mist.
***
Every step Shadow took was one step farther from his past and his memories. And with every step, his doubt began to falter, as his will forced him onward. Feeling a tap at his shoulder, Shadow turned to his companion.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Morgan asked.
Shadow shrugged and turned back. “The easiest way to any point is to go straight, and right now we’re just trying to get out of here.”
“But you still don’t know if your straight line will lead us out of here,” Morgan muttered. “There’s an easier way, too. Why not use it?”
Shadow stopped and turned back to her. “What are you suggesting then?”
Morgan shook her head. “You’re a Mystic too, aren’t you? Why not use your powers to help guide you through here? I know you’ve used them before.”
Shadow recalled his battle in Thule. It seemed like a lifetime ago. A strange sensation overcame him then, which he could not replicate since. All of his senses worked together for a brief moment, allowing him an understanding of everything around him. He pondered again, but could come up with no such explanation.
“I don’t know how,” he admitted.
Morgan frowned and shook her head. “Listen,” she lectured, “there are five senses. Touch, taste, smell, sight, and hearing. If you harmonize them, use them together, you can certainly see beyond this or any obstacle.”
“Your explanations make no sense,” Shadow sighed.
“It’s the truth though. Scents and tastes are carried by the wind. Hearing the sound and feel of your feet upon the ground, and other creatures nearby, gives you insight to your surroundings. Your eyes are hardly needed then.”
“Explain one thing then,” Shadow demanded. “How could I possibly see in every direction? There’s no way to explain that.”
Morgan looked at his eyes carefully. “That kind of thing would only happen when all of your senses are working together, as I just mentioned. If you could do that much, it means you need no explanation.”
“But I obviously don’t know how I would control such a thing,” Shadow protested.
“Now you’re asking the impossible,” Morgan sighed. “You might as well ask me how to blink or breathe. Didn’t we already have a lesson in how to walk earlier?”
The pair stood still for some time. Shadow could still make no sense of what Morgan had told him. Combining and harmonizing all his senses sounded simple enough, but how would one accomplish such a feat? As he thought, Morgan brought him out of his trance.
“Anyway,” she said, “we should go that way. There’s a small settlement of some sort not far away.” She pointed out into the woods and started ahead.
A confused look came over Shadow’s face. “Wait, we were going that way though. Why did you stop us?”
Morgan spun and donned a smirk. “I just wanted to see if you knew what you were doing. If you truly plan to go into this dangerous world, you’d best be prepared.”
“I was still going in the right direction,” Shadow corrected.
Morgan looked away, her smile fading. “It helps to be prepared. Although dumb luck can win some battles, it can’t win all of them. You’d do well to remember that.”
“Hey,” Shadow muttered, looking back to Morgan. She had already started running ahead. She turned back and smiled. Shadow shook his head with a grin on his face and chased after her.
***
After a few hours of walking, Shadow and Morgan arrived in a clearing. Vibrant grasses swept across hills and plains ahead, as a clear blue sky resonated above. Shadow gazed in awe; never before had he seen such scenery. Over a hill, a small camp with an excavation site could be seen in the distance.
Shadow put his hand to his forehead to block the sunlight as the wind hit his face. “Is that the place? It isn’t that far off.”
“That’s it,” she said softly. “Something is going on, too.” She turned and motioned for Shadow to follow then quickened her step.
“What is it?” Shadow asked as he hurried after her.
“You’ll feel it soon,” she said somberly.
Morgan’s sudden change of attitude woke a chill in his own heart. As he moved, he felt more and more uneasy. An odd odor became apparent as he closed in on the small site. It was one he knew very well. A look of terror overcame him as he realized what it was. Blood.
Encompassing the excavation on the side nearest to them were several small houses. Shadow and Morgan stopped at the nearest one and hid behind it as they observed the unfolding event.
Two small groups of people stood in front of each other, seeming to be in argument. One of the groups stood out in an aggressive fashion. They wore green uniforms and had weapons at their sides while the others cowered before them in terror.
“What are they yelling about? I can’t hear from here,” Shadow muttered.
Morgan kept silent, paying no mind to Shadow’s complaints. At last, she turned to him and said, “They’re bandits of some sort. They’re raiding this place.”
“Bandits?” Shadow questioned. “You mean they’re stealing from these people?”
“Nothing of material, anyway.”
Morgan breathed deep and turned back to the mob. Frustrated, Shadow inched closer, hoping to hear some manner of dialogue. Before he could get close enough, his vision sharpened and he felt a great sense of discomfort.
“It feels like some overwhelming intent to kill,” he said quietly. His eyes glanced away and back again. The green uniformed men’s arms began to move subtly towards their sheathed weapons, and he knew what they were doing. Without second thought, Shadow sprung from hiding and charged the bandits.
“Idiot, get back here!” Morgan shouted, but her words failed to reach Shadow. She grimaced and soon followed behind.
Meanwhile, the unarmed people begun to run in panic, fleeing their adversaries. Amidst the chaos, one woman stumbled to the ground. Taking advantage of the situation, one of the men raised his sword and prepared to bring it down upon her.
The woman saw the blade less than an inch from her eyes as she reeled away in fright. A cool gust breezed her face where the blade should have struck. She opened her eyes at the sound of the clash. Half of the blade flew to the ground.
The thief stood frozen and completely baffled. From out of the air itself, Shadow appeared before him, pointing Masamune at his chest.
“Enough!” Shadow shouted, so that everyone would hear him. He quickly flipped Masamune to its dull side and caught the unarmed thief in the neck, sending him crashing to the ground. The sudden strike halted the momentum of the others.
“I neither know nor care what the situation is here, but I won’t let you slaughter these people. If you require an opponent, I’ll fight you myself!”
The brigand troop staggered back, still processing the turn of events that had befallen them. From their core, one of them shouted, “Look at those clothes! He’s a knight!”
“If we act fast, we can get rid of him,” another said.
Shadow’s vision began to sharpen. He counted six men total, one currently downed at his feet. The site inhabitants had moved some ways back, but were still out in the open. They stood in front of and around nearby buildings, as if their escape had come to a sudden halt. Shadow realized at that time he had regained his omni directional vision and acute sensory perceptions.
The bandits charged, but each one moved as if they were in slow motion. Each muscle movement could be heard, each thrust and slash seen, and the growing anxiety felt as Shadow evaded their attacks with ease. In a flurry of slashes, the bandits tumbled to the ground, causing a single reverberating crash. Shadow slashed at the air once more, discarding any blood from the blade before he sheathed Masamune.
“It seems you’re able to handle yourself,” Morgan commented as she reached him. Shadow turned to her and smiled reluctantly.
“I guess I can,” he replied. Before he could finish, he heard the roar of cheering from the people. They rushed to greet their savior with open arms.
“Thank you so much,” a large man said grasping Shadow’s hand and shaking it firmly.
“They would have killed us if you hadn’t come by!” one woman shouted.
A short man in the back muttered, “It’s about time they sent someone.”
Shadow felt uneasy being such a center of attention. He had been surrounded by those intending to kill him before, but never by a gracious crowd. Shadow soon felt himself becoming overwhelmed and drowning in the mass of flesh. His vision began to go and soon he lost consciousness.
***
Unconscious, Shadow was brought to a fine room and bed. He had collapsed amidst the overwhelming fanfare of those he had saved. While he rested, it was up to Morgan to settle any preexisting introductions. She sat at a table with a middle aged, gray haired man in a separate room.
“I am this excavation camp’s foreman. It’s good you people finally came,” the man sighed with relief. “Now we can be done with this and get back to our work,” he said.
Morgan looked over the man before speaking. “Are you saying you were waiting for us?”
“Yes of course. Aren’t you the knights the capital sent us?”
“I’m afraid not,” Morgan said, shaking her head, “the two of us are travelers from far away. It was purely coincidence that we came upon you.”
“I see,” the man said in a nervous tone. “This is quite a disturbing development for us. Not you and your friend coming to our rescue, but that our pleas for help have gone unanswered. We’ve been harassed by that bunch for some time.” Pausing to catch his breath, the man wiped his brow. “At first, we would see them irregularly as we traveled, but never did they approach us. The past few weeks though, they began venturing closer to us, even coming through our camp at night.”
“And so you sent for help?”
“Yes, exactly,” the man replied. “The way they’re acting is uncharacteristically strange for them. We have uncovered no minerals and we have nothing of worth. All we do is simply dig and report our progress back to the city. I believe it’s because they came under new leadership that things have suddenly become hostile.”
Morgan put her elbows to the table and poised her head up. “Why would that be the case?” she slyly asked.
“There is someone else out there. A giant wild man is what it is,” he replied. “Standing this tall and covered in beast skins!” The man gestured and raised his arm up, as if to project the idea of a fable onto a child.
“That certainly is tall,” Morgan remarked in a voice that was wholly unimpressed. “No wonder you were worried.”
“Precisely, and that is why we enlisted the help of the capital, but,” the man’s words trailed off and his gaze shifted to the floor. “But no help has come. Until now, that is.” The man’s complexion suddenly changed to one of joy, as Morgan’s changed to one of worry.
“You mean us?” Morgan reluctantly asked.
“Of course you wouldn’t go empty-handed,” the man assured. “We would provide you food and lodging, as well as transportation out of here once the job is over.”
Morgan groaned quietly and stood up. “I’ll have to discuss it with my partner,” she said. “Speaking of which, I should go check on him.” Morgan began to inch out of the room with great haste.
“Wait,” the man shouted. “What is that boy? I’ve never seen someone move like that before in all my years. Is he some angel of Noveria?”
Morgan laughed nervously. “Something like that,” she noted as she quickly evacuated the room.
***
Shadow sat up in his bed as he heard the door open. Morgan casually glided through the room and sat herself at the end of his bed. She looked him over briefly. While awake, he was still disoriented from his earlier ordeal.
His posture began to sharpen as his cognitive abilities rushed back to him. “What happened? Where are we?”
Morgan sighed in exhaustion from her companion’s constant obliviousness. “You collapsed after you saved those people, and they brought you here to rest.”
“I don’t remember being wounded…”
“You weren’t,” Morgan interrupted. “Fighting off hordes of bandits is no problem, but the overwhelming attention you received afterward seemed to send you into a state of panic. You’re not good with people, are you?”
Shadow shrunk in place. After a moment, he cleared his throat and glanced around.
“So is everything fine here now?”
“Half of it is, it seems.”
“What do you mean?”
“These raids aren’t normal, apparently,” Morgan began. “It seems the bandits in the area came under new leadership lately by some ‘wild man’ or some such. They are hoping we will investigate.” She paused briefly and sighed. “This is starting to become troublesome…”
“Why is that?” Shadow demanded. “Were you in a hurry to be somewhere? I was under the impression you’ve never been here either.”
Morgan shrugged with a grimace. “No, but it seems we’re getting entangled in something we have no business with.”
“No business? These people are in trouble!” Shadow exclaimed.
Morgan raised her voice to match his. “I believe we are going to find that there are people in trouble everywhere. If we stop and help every one we’ll never get anywhere.”
Shadow sat silent for a while, pondering this fact. Morgan’s truth was a harsh reality. One man and one sword could not save thousands of lives, he thought.
“But if I could just help the few people I meet along the way, I’d have done enough.”
“Well do whatever you like,” she replied. “I’m just along for the fun.”
Shadow peered at her in interest. “And that’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“You’re hiding something, I can feel it.”
Morgan reeled in a self imposed dramatic shock. “I’m hurt.”
Shadow grumbled. She certainly is whimsical enough, he thought, but coming so far is a ridiculous notion. His face brightened as an idea came to mind.
“It couldn’t be,” he began. Morgan looked worried as she awaited his words. “You’re here because you’re worried about me.”
Morgan clenched her stomach, laughing with all her might. She rose and wiped a tear away from her eye, still in laughter.
Now Shadow was the one hurt. “That wasn’t necessary,” Shadow muttered, his words drowned out by Morgan’s howling.
“Ah that was good,” she said, finally quieting down. “But no, that isn’t why I’m here. However, now, little boys should get their rest before hunting wild men.” Morgan raised a finger and flicked Shadow on the forehead. “I suppose we can head out in the morning.”
Shadow smiled and nodded, then rested his body back on the bed. “You get some sleep yourself.”
“Sure, sure,” Morgan said standing and straightening out her dress. As she left the room Shadow sighed, but then smirked mischievously, in a way that mirrored someone he knew well.
***
Shadow and Morgan slept late into the morning. It was nearly mid day before the two awoke and were served breakfast by their still grateful hosts. They soon trekked out from the tiny village in search of their quarry. Fields of grass grew in every direction, as far as the eye could see, scattered with an occasional tree or dirt path. They walked for some time and before long found themselves on truly open land.
“I have no idea where we are going,” he muttered, turning to the ever insightful Morgan. She surely had some clue as to the whereabouts of their wild man.
“Neither do I,” she shrugged.
“What? I thought you would know where to go,” Shadow exclaimed.
“I’ve been following you all this time,” Morgan replied.
“But you knew where that camp was.”
Morgan looked away with a pretentious look and said, “That and this are two different things. We’re looking for a single person – a man living in the wilderness, mind you – and not an assortment of shacks standing around a pit.”
Shadow frowned and slumped. His faith had been shattered.
Morgan pondered for a moment then lit up. “I’ve got it,” she remarked. “Or rather, you do. You’re best suited for it.”
Shadow grimaced. Judging by the cheerfulness of her tone, he anticipated it would be something he would not like. “And what would that be?”
“Put your dumb luck to use and search around aimlessly until you find him.”
Shadow frowned. “That doesn’t seem like a very fitting plan,” he complained.
“I think it will work perfectly,” Morgan corrected. “Think about it. If neither of us can find him from this spot, and we have no idea where to go, wouldn’t it best to expand our search radius?” Pondering the matter at hand, Shadow nodded slowly in acceptance. “And you, having supreme dumb luck, are the perfect candidate to choose a direction.”
“I’m not sure I like this appointment,” Shadow grumbled under his breath. Morgan stood before him, gleaming with a wicked smile. Any further struggle would be fruitless, he thought. Shadow pointed off onto the horizon and said, “That way.”
***
Morgan and Shadow explored the surrounding region for some time. Search as they might, they were unable to locate anyone or anything even with their acute senses of vision and hearing. The more they walked the deeper they ventured into the seemingly uneventful countryside.
Approaching a tree by a roadside, Shadow threw up his arms in defeat and leaned up against it. As he landed against the tree, a pair of birds flew off into the sky. Morgan and Shadow’s focus snapped to the air and slowly relaxed, realizing their error.
“I haven’t found a thing,” Shadow said as he scanned the area once more. Morgan nodded solemnly, but did not say a word. The wind whistled by, sending an eerie chill though the bodies of the two Mystics. Shadow put a hand to his head in discomfort. He felt an odd pressure against his skull, but could not say for certain what it was. His eyes rose to Morgan. Her facial expression changed imperceptibly, similar to one of his own.
Shadow suddenly remembered the sensation from an earlier time, back in Thule, right before he was attacked. A sudden distortion caught his attention from the tall grasses nearby. They were moving. Morgan had noticed it as well, and began picking out various movements in the distance.
“We’re surrounded,” Morgan said, biting her lip. “I didn’t even notice them until now.”
“Neither did I,” Shadow said as he readied himself to draw Masamune while still following the movements in the grass.
A sudden rush hit him, sending him tumbling forward onto the dirt path. Turning, he saw a slender man in an olive green and brown uniform. Morgan jumped back and bumped into something. Another large man in the same uniform stood behind her and quickly restrained her.
“Let me go!” she cried, struggling and flailing. Her captor’s grip hardened halting her movements completely.
“Morgan!” Shadow shouted, reaching for his sword.
“Hold it, boy,” the first man sharply commanded. He rose a hand in signal and three other men came out from the tall grass. “One more move and the lady is finished. You did a number on some of our men, and it’s time you pay for it.”
Shadow hissed, relaxing his hand. “So, you’re the ones causing all the trouble around here.”
“I could say the same for you,” the slender man sneered.
Morgan thrashed violently, stomping and kicking with all her might. The thief holding her tightened his grasp and brought a blade to her neck.
An uneasy silence surrounded everyone for several moments. The slender man finally spoke, as if the sight of the two disgusted him. “Enough. Kill the little bastard!” The bandits readied their weapons and poised themselves to attack Shadow.
A loud crash drove those standing to the ground. A large cloud of dust engulfed the spot where Morgan was held. From within, the bandit that had bound her was sent flying and a deep, booming voice echoed. “The girl is free, take up your sword!”
Shadow hesitated for a moment, still processing the situation. He shook his head. “Right,” he said, springing to his feet and drawing Masamune. The slender man drew a sword of his own and slashed downward. Shadow parried the blade. His hold began to waver, and he was soon forced to use his left arm to support the blade.
From behind the cloud of dust, something grabbed one of the other men by the head and slammed him to the ground. Morgan seized the chance and escaped under the cloud of dust, running for the other thief with something in hand. She stabbed fiercely at his side then swiped a final blow across his throat before he could react.
Shadow and the slender man continued to cross blades. Each swipe was blocked and avoided. Shadow’s senses had not sharpened to their peak yet; he could not foresee the movements of muscles that would dictate his opponent’s next attack. The slender man continued avoiding and returning Shadow’s attacks as they came. Their swords clashed in deadlock, neither one able to gain an upper hand in the fight.
The slender man brought down another downward slash with all his might. As the blades connected, Shadow’s stance was broken, and he staggered. The slender man took advantage of this, and stabbed forward to Shadow’s head. His attack, however, was not one he had used before and most likely made in anger. Shadow saw the pause and hesitation, and shifted his head to the side, thrusting his own blade forward and through the slender man. Shadow withdrew Masamune, and the slender man collapsed to the ground. The dust began to dissipate, revealing an unusually large figure. The large man grabbed the final bandit and punched him squarely in the face, launching him backwards.
Shadow ran to Morgan. Looking her over, he put a hand on her shoulder. “Good, you’re okay,” he said with a smile as Morgan smiled in return. The two looked back at their mysterious savior. As the image processed, both of them reeled upon seeing him in the open. It was a very tall, dark skinned man with black eyes, draped in animal furs. He was truly a wild man if there ever was one.

[Shmoof]

Spoiler for Chapter 5:

-5-
The imposing figure loomed over Shadow and Morgan, seeming to block out all sun and sky. Hesitantly, Shadow inched his arm towards his sword, but before he could touch it, a deep boom forced him to jump.
“Are you all right?” the giant asked.
While his voice was deep and reverberating, it felt unusually calming at the same time, in a strange way. Shadow tried to speak, but no words would come from his mouth, as if the presence of the giant deflected them before they could even see the light of day.
“Yes,” Morgan said almost inaudibly and cleared her throat. “Yes, we’re fine. Thank you.”
The wild man nodded and turned away, starting to walk off. As large as he was, his footsteps did not make the slightest sound. Still paralyzed, Shadow felt himself unable to speak. He turned to Morgan, who had her gaze fixed on the giant.
Finally gathering the courage, he called to the wild man. “Wait! Why did you help up? Aren’t you their leader?” The giant stopped and slowly turned back to face the two. His face was emotionless and mysterious, as if hiding many secrets under a neat veil of dust.
He spoke again in his bellowing, but calm, voice. “I am not. And I am not like you. I am Xeno. I do not concern myself with your world.”
Morgan and Shadow looked on in amazement. Their wild man seemed well versed and passive, with no desire to engage in further combat.
Morgan asked reluctantly, “Why did you save us, then?”
Xeno looked to the ground and fell silent, seemingly deep in thought. After a moment, he spoke again, “I do not like to see the innocent hurt. Things have changed, and these bad men have become more violent as of late.”
“We were told it was because of their leadership. A giant man was conducting their raids and attacks,” Shadow said, his voice a pale whisper compared to Xeno.
Xeno’s face rose to Shadow’s, now with a great look of concern. “As I said, their leader is not I. Though I do suspect someone new is behind this. I have followed them for the past month, and their organization has begun to move more frequently and violently.”
Morgan tugged on Shadow’s sleeve, looking him straight in the eyes. “He’s not lying, I can tell,” she whispered. Shadow nodded in agreement.
“Well then,” Shadow began, “we are looking for the leader of these thieves and killers. They have plagued the people nearby and caused them much harm. Would you know where we might find their encampment?”
Xeno studied the pair with his dark eyes for a time before speaking. “Yes, I do know,” he said reluctantly. “But the place is overflowing with them. There are easily fifty men. You would not stand a chance, even with your skill.”
Shadow groaned, accepting the unappealing truth. Morgan grinned slyly and folded her arms.
“Well then, what if we were to sneak in with your help?”
The tables were suddenly turned on Xeno. His voice, which had once intimidated, became the silent one.
“What do you mean?” he said warily.
Morgan dropped her arms to her sides and drew a somber look on her face. Her figure was suddenly one that loomed over the giant man, sending him into a state of submission.
“You’re no novice to blending in with nature. We were barely able to see those thieves, let alone you. You seemed to appear from nowhere.”
Shadow looked back and forth at the two, trying to comprehend Morgan’s words. She was certainly right, though. Even with his extra sensory perception, he could not detect Xeno, large as he was, until he forcefully revealed himself.
“Well, what say you?” Morgan hounded.
The giant fell silent once again, seemingly deep in thought. He looked over the two again for a while, Shadow in particular. “Very well, I shall accompany you,” Xeno said at last. “Yours seems to be a noble goal, and I see no trace of evil in you. We shall work together. Follow me, then.”
“Then we are much obliged to have you with us, Xeno,” Morgan said. “My name is Morgan.”
Shadow took the opportunity to introduce himself as well, though his voice was still all but a squeak, “I’m Shadow.”
“Shadow,” Xeno repeated in monotone. “An odd name.”
***
Shadow and Morgan, joined with their new compatriot, set off to find the camp of the bandits which plagued the residents of this land. Xeno moved quickly and quietly, to the amazement of his companions. The towering man was able to crouch down so the tall grasses covered him entirely. Morgan found it easy to follow, but Shadow struggled to keep himself low to the ground, despite being several heads shorter than Xeno. Xeno continued on at an amazing speed, as if he knew the path by heart.
Shadow swatted the tall grass in front of him in frustration. He was losing distance between himself and the others. “How can you move like this so fast and know where to go?”
Xeno slowed his pace slightly, allowing Shadow to catch up. Once all three were together, he raised a hand, silently issuing them to stop. “Look,” he said, pointing to the ground.
Morgan peered at the soil. “Are those footprints? Amazing you can follow them so fast,” she said.
Shadow inched forward, hoping to get a look. “I can hardly see them,” he whispered.
“It’s not just tracks,” Xeno interrupted. “Look at the grass, the twigs, the land itself.” Shadow and Morgan looked on. The area ahead had clearly been trampled not long ago. “These men are able to move without being seen only by those who don’t know where to look.”
“Still, that they were able to sneak up on us before,” Morgan muttered.
“The birds warned you, and also alerted me,” Xeno said.
Shadow slumped. “What birds?”
“The ones that took flight when you pressed up against the tree. Animals take flight when danger comes.” As Xeno finished speaking, he quickly resumed the trail. Shadow was nearly left behind again as his thoughts wandered.
He watched from behind as the giant weaved to and fro, Morgan always nearby. “Who is this giant really?” These words tingled in Shadow’s skull again and again.
***
The group arrived at a thicket of trees and Xeno once again called a halt. He turned to his fellows and pointed inward. “There,” he said.
Morgan moved in closer to observe, peering into the forest. “Their camp is in there?”
“There’s something there, all right,” Shadow said. “But a camp? This is something much larger.”
Xeno nodded and moved the group forward. After only a few paces, a large clearing was in sight, filled dozens of tents. The tents were made of some sort of leather patched together; well able to withstand the forces of nature. Around many of the structures, palisades were set up and trenches dug.
“Shadow’s right,” Morgan acknowledged, “this is a base. But something’s strange…”
“There is no guard, no patrol. No one is here,” Xeno noted. Shadow scanned the area in disbelief. Xeno was right; there was no sign of life to be found.
“It seems we missed them,” Morgan sighed.
Shadow frowned and looked over the camp once more, hoping to find someone. “Do we go back then?”
“We might as well,” Morgan replied with a shrug. “There are no bandits here to hunt.”
During the short time Shadow and Morgan conversed, Xeno had moved out of sight. Upon noticing his disappearance, the pair began to look around frantically. They let out a sigh of relief as their eyes located him. He was moving towards the center of the camp. Without thought or hesitation, Shadow and Morgan followed for fear of being abandoned.
Xeno stopped before the entrance to one of the tents. He moved his head towards the doorway in attempt to listen for some noise on the inside. Morgan and Shadow scampered next to him. As they did, a faint noise became audible. It was a groaning noise coming from inside.
With a deep breath, Xeno flung open the opening to the tent and entered. He stopped to observe the structure and then relaxed himself. “It’s all right,” he called. “Come in.”
Shadow and Morgan entered as well. The ground was boarded and even covered with carpet in some areas. Cushions and pillows also decorated the innards of the tent, as well as a small desk. In the corner laid a battered man, curled up and groaning softly. The group moved closer to inspect the wounded man. He wore a once elaborate set of clothing and armor, now ruined.
“Please,” the wounded man said, “No more.”
Morgan advanced. “Nobody’s here to hurt you. We’re looking for the bandits.” A momentary lapse of silence fell over the tent, and the wounded man spoke.
“You’re not with them?” The wounded man struggled to elevate himself. Xeno reached behind the man’s back and propped him upward. “Who are you?”
“We’re travelers,” Shadow said, gesturing to Morgan and himself.
“I am a native of these plains,” Xeno added.
The wounded man looked over his rescuers. “I see. I am a knight sent from the capital to investigate the problems in this region, but…”
“The problems seem to have gotten to you first,” Morgan interjected.
“Yes, putting it bluntly.” The wounded man nodded his head back and Xeno rested him on the ground.
“Any ideas where they have gone off to?” Shadow inquired.
“Just one,” the wounded man said. “That table there, check the drawers.”
Morgan went to the desk and opened the drawer. Inside was a rolled up note along with several assorted knives. Morgan took the note, unraveled it and begun reading it aloud.
We have found what we are looking for elsewhere. Wipe out the workers then meet up with your contact at the Cairn Keep for further orders. He will be in the tavern during the evenings dressed in a silk cloak. You will contact him by the phrase, ‘Dark Noveria.’ Move quickly, for your camp may have been located.
Blixx
Morgan finished reading and lowered the letter. “That’s all it says,” she announced. “What do we do from here?”
Blank stares and silence replied. Rain began to fall, gently pattering down on the tent. The sound further eased any words to be said, and left them with a brief moment of tranquility. The rain was abruptly interrupted by a screeching howl, like that of a dying animal. The wounded man said something inaudibly under his breath and fell unconscious.
Xeno snapped to attention and gently lowered the wounded man to the floor. “What was that?”
“How would I know?” Shadow remarked. “You’re the expert of nature.”
Xeno shook his head. “It sounds almost like…but they were destroyed.” As the last word left Xeno’s lips, Morgan reached into the desk and confiscated several knives. A sound of shuffling could be heard nearby.
“What could they be, wolves or something?” Shadow inquired.
“No wolf sounds like that,” Xeno said. “It is something unnatural.”
Shadow readied his sword, as Xeno and Morgan also prepared for combat. He listened as the shuffling of feet grew closer. “Three of them?”
“No, four,” Morgan replied.
A sudden roar came from behind, and the flap of the tent was torn apart. In its wake was a humanoid figure. It was the height of an adult male, but it was clearly not human. Its flesh was a leathery grey texture. It donned a mutilated face and snarled with razor sharp teeth. The hands and feet were also crafted with claws that looked as if they could cut through bone. The creature let loose a shrieking howl and crouched on all fours, preparing to pounce.
The group formed a triangle around the unconscious wounded man. As their shoulders touched in unity, Xeno spoke in an unusually quiet tone.
“Shadow, you can fight with that sword, can’t you?”
Shadow emitted one single nasal laugh in response.
“And you, Miss Morgan? Can you defend yourself?”
Morgan turned her head in joy. “Oh, I like the sound of that. But yes, I can protect myself.”
The beast lunged with lightning speed. Xeno connected with a mighty punch that sent the creature flying backwards. As it landed, another side of the tent was torn open, and the foundation began to falter. Another creature rushed the group, but was sent back by another of Xeno’s strong punches. The first creature sprung to its four limbs in an instant and readied itself to charge again. Morgan aimed her blade at the beast, and as it jumped, she struck at its abdomen. As the blade touched the creature’s skin, it began to deflect, as if the contact seemed to reject any impact whatsoever. Morgan’s blade was turned aside and knocked out of her hand.
Morgan was tackled to the ground by the creature. It took one look at her and huffed before turning away, uninterested. It leapt at Shadow with one claw hefted back, ready to swipe. Shadow struck first, and the upper half of its body was cut clear off at an angle. Before the severed corpse could hit the ground, a blue flame engulfed the body parts and dissolved it to dust at an incredible rate. The fire spread selectively, only touching the remains of the creature until they too were nothing more than ash. Xeno quickly reached to the ground and hefted Morgan and the wounded man over both of his shoulders.
“We must get out now before the tent collapses on us!” he shouted.
Without time to debate, Shadow and Xeno darted out the first opening in the tent and into the clearing. Xeno set Morgan on her feet and placed the wounded man on the ground. One more of the beasts confronted the group, and the other that Xeno had knocked back leapt over the debris, trapping them from both sides.
Morgan drew another blade and once again prepared to face off against the monstrosities. Shadow had one locked in his sights, and Xeno and Morgan the other. Shadow charged his creature, and the creature, him. It unleashed a whirl of claws. Shadow parried with Masamune, but the creature’s strength was enough to force him back. The creature slashed again, but Shadow ducked under the swipe. With the opening, he thrust his sword in and through the creature, and then tore away. It collapsed to the ground, and like the first, began to burn into a blue flame which reduced it to dust.
The other creature jumped at Xeno with its fierce claws. Xeno intercepted by grabbing the beast’s arms mid air. He grappled with the creature and with his own titanic strength, snapped both of its arms. The creature squealed in pain. Morgan meanwhile moved closer and plunged a dagger into the creature’s side. Once again, the blade deflected. She withdrew and stabbed again with both her hands and to her amazement, the blade bent before her eyes. Xeno, noticing the non-lethal weapon, proceeded to strangle the creature. Squirming and kicking at the air, it finally slowed and stopped with a loud cracking noise. The creature fell limp, and Xeno discarded it to the ground.
The three gathered around the wounded man, who still lay unconscious.
“What the hell was that?” Shadow proclaimed.
Morgan shook her head. “I have no idea, however,” her words trailed off as she glanced around. “That was three. Where’s the fourth?” Shadow resumed his attentiveness and began looking about.
“I don’t hear it,” Xeno said softly. “Could it have ran?”
“No,” Shadow said. “It’s still here, and close. But I almost can’t feel it.”
“Very close,” Morgan replied. “It’s almost as if it were right underneath us.”
With her words, the three realized where the creature was. The ground began to shake, and the three leapt backward as the final creature shot upward from the earth itself. Shadow was the last to move, and the upward strike of the creature sliced across his abdomen. His blood spattered to the ground, and he staggered back. The creature landed on the ground and snarled. Wasting no time, Xeno seized the beast, preventing it from moving.
Morgan ran to Shadow’s side and helped him regain his balance. Xeno grappled with the creature as it snapped and kicked at him furiously.
“Hurry!”
Shadow threw his weight forward and charged the creature, piercing it straight through the chest. It howled and burned to ash in seconds. The howl lingered long after the creature was no more, almost in an eerie sense. Then there was one more howl.
The trio turned to find the one beast Xeno had slain risen from the dead. With a series of snaps and cracks, it locked its arms and head back into place and prepared to strike. It jumped at Xeno, but something flashed before him. A blue streak cut into the creature and toppled it to the ground, causing it to burn. Shadow appeared in front of Xeno and sheathed Masamune.
***
The rain continued to fall and washed away any memory of battle. The wind whistled one eerie howl reminding the group that their encounter was very much real.
The wounded man stirred and forced himself upright. He looked around in panic and then, warily, began to relax. His rescuers stood nearby with their backs turned.
“What happened?” he called. The three turned to him but could not respond in words. Rather, their faces, each different, told a part of the story. It was then that he noticed the lacerations on Shadow’s body. “Tell me. What did you see here?”
Xeno remained silent and stoic, as always. Shadow’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Morgan turned away in worry. Agitated, the wounded man struggled to his feet. “What happened! Tell me!” he shouted.
“We were attacked,” Xeno bellowed, causing the wounded man to jump.
Shadow nodded. “Some strange creatures…”
Morgan said nothing, and knelt at the spot where one had perished. Its remains were all but washed away, but a chilling feeling remained.
The wounded man took a deep breath and looked around again nervously. “Ravengers?” He stepped back and slipped, falling onto his back.
“Don’t worry; they’re dead,” Morgan said in a calming voice, “whatever they were.”
The wounded man looked even more distressed, and struggled and slipped once again in the mud. Shadow put a hand on his shoulder and spoke.
“Relax!” he said. “They’re dead and gone.”
The wounded man looked up at him with eyes of defiance and hysteria. “You can’t kill them! Swords and arrows bounce off their skin! Even if you crush their bodies, they’ll just heal themselves in a matter of minutes!”
“Yes, well, I don’t think they’re coming back this time,” Shadow replied, pointing to the ground by Morgan’s feet. “They erupted into flame and burnt to dust.”
The wounded man looked in amazement, although any trace of the creature’s demise had been washed away. He somehow felt reassured. “You really killed them?”
Xeno’s voice once again boomed, this time causing both Shadow and the wounded man to jump. “There is nothing left alive here except for us.”
Morgan stood and nodded in agreement. “I can barely feel their presence anymore. They’re long dead.” The wounded man gazed on in amazement and the rain began to let up, though the dark clouds still hung overhead.
***
Amidst the clearing were the ruins of the former bandit camp, now only inhabited by three travelers and a wounded man. The wounded man rummaged through tents, looking for any supplies he could make use of. Likewise, Morgan and Shadow searched other tents in the area for anything useful before they too abandoned the camp. Xeno, meanwhile, kept watch at the perimeter. As Morgan exited one of the tents, she nearly collided into the wounded man, hobbling along with all his might.
“Careful, there,” she said. The wounded man bowed and moved out of the way.
“Apologies,” he said as he held back the entry drape. As Morgan advanced out, the wounded man called to her. “Wait,” he said. “How did you kill those Ravengers?” Morgan turned to him and shook her head.
“I didn’t kill them. All the blades I used were pushed away or bent. Even the big one’s arms couldn’t kill them.”
“Then what did?”
“Shadow killed them,” Morgan interjected, nodding in the direction of the young man. “His sword tore right through them, and when they died they burst into blue flames.” It was clear this man knew something about the creatures. Morgan paused a moment, allowing him to digest her words before she continued. “Is there something special about those creatures?”
The wounded man combed his hand through his hair and sighed deeply. “I don’t know entirely,” he said. “What you describe and what I think they are…They are creatures of legend, of a time when humanity was nearly at an end.”
Morgan focused her eyes and listened intently as the man continued. “It is said a group of Heretics gave them life, but there have only been rumors mirroring those of times long past.”
Morgan pressed on. “Heretics created them? How could humans create such horrific things?”
The wounded man shook his head. “Like I said, I don’t know. It’s only speculation. But Heretics are very much real. There are people who oppose the Church of Noveria and seek to undo the peace of this land. They seek to spread chaos wherever they go: murdering, stealing, decimating towns.”
Morgan withdrew and looked inquisitively at the wounded man. “I’ve heard that name twice before. Just what is Noveria?”
The wounded man laughed. “You truly aren’t from around here, are you? Noveria is our saint and savior. Fighting against an army of evil that sought to destroy the world and everything on it, we were saved by Noveria’s sacrifice.” The man paused a moment, rummaging through his memory. “What a terrible thing for a knight to forget. They were some sort of abominations called Mystics. It is said in our scriptures that creatures similar to what we found here were made by the Mystics to wage war. Perhaps these Heretics seek to follow in the Mystic’s ways.”
Morgan lowered her head and thanked the wounded man without another word.
***
After the supply collection was complete, Shadow, Morgan and the wounded man met at the center of the camp.
“I must be off to the Yisarian capital to inform them of this attack and recent activity,” the wounded man announced.
“What about the that excavation camp?” Shadow asked.
The wounded man smiled. ‘That work is well enough done, by the looks of things here. I’m sure they will understand in time that they are safe when no more harm comes to them, and I must give my report with haste.”
“Well then, take care and don’t get captured again!” Morgan said as she poked him in the chest.
The wounded man laughed and smiled. “I’ll be sure not to. If you ever head by Yisaria, be sure to stop by the barracks and say hello.” He then bowed and waved before starting out on his journey home. Shadow shouted a goodbye and waved, while Xeno made one waving motion.
“Still,” Shadow began, “I don’t feel right letting them sleep uneasy…”
Morgan nudged Shadow. “So, shall we head back to the village?” Shadow nodded in approval, and the two turned to Xeno. “And what about you Xeno?”
Xeno blinked and looked stunned. “That is right; I was to help you locate this place and its troubles. I shall accompany you back and then go on my way.”
Morgan clapped her hands together. “Then that is that. Shall we be off?” With no sound of disagreement, the three ventured back to the village.
***
The journey back took far less time than it did toward it. The companions were able to stand tall and move at their leisure amongst the grasslands. No threat or distortion could be located anywhere in sight, and it seemed the events earlier in the day were but a fleeting memory. Though no words were said, each of the three instinctively knew that they were, however, very real. After some time, the excavation camp became visible in the distance, much to the relief of the travelers.
Xeno’s pace began to slow, and soon Shadow and Morgan passed him, taking the lead for themselves. Once their backs were to him, Xeno began to turn slowly. Before his foot could even touch the ground, his movements were seized my Morgan’s voice.
“You shouldn’t leave so soon.”
Xeno looked at the sky and turned. Both Shadow and Morgan had stopped and were facing him. The giant spoke, “I think it would be better. They think I am in league with their enemies.”
“All the more reason to clear things up,” Shadow replied. “You shouldn’t let this rift continue to grow.” Xeno’s stern face slowly changed to a warm smile, and he continued walking along with Shadow and Morgan.
Upon reaching the outer perimeter of the site, the group spotted a number of miners. Shadow waved an arm high in the air and shouted. The workers took notice of this and summoned each other to the outskirts. Before long, the three companions and all the workers had arrived at the same point, though many stood uneasy at the sight of the giant man. The foreman who Morgan had spoken with earlier stepped forward to greet them.
“So, it seems things are not as they seem,” the foreman said.
Morgan smiled. “They certainly aren’t. Your ‘wild man’ had no part with the recent attacks. In fact, he helped us stop them.”
The foreman turned to Xeno and bowed. “Is that so? I apologize for wrongly accusing you, especially if you were instrumental in solving our bandit problem.”
Xeno shook his head and then bowed it in turn. “Think nothing of it, Sir. I help those in need whenever I can.” Xeno’s words, though startling at first, soon soothed the villagers.
“You all must be tired,” the foreman began. “Perhaps you would stay the night again before you depart?” Glances were exchanged between Shadow and Morgan, and an unsaid decision to stay was reached.
***
Shadow and Morgan were shown to the lodge they had slept in the previous night, while Xeno, against all offers, insisted on sleeping outdoors. Shadow looked up at the ceiling and replayed the events from the day in his mind.
“What were those things?” he muttered.
Morgan rolled in her own bed and whispered. “That man said the Mystics of past times created them to wage war and wipe out the humans.”
Shadow stood up in bed and turned to Morgan in disbelief. “Is that true? Why would they do such a thing?”
“Yes, I know. I thought the same thing,” Morgan replied, flipping herself onto her back. “Two stories so vastly different from each other. I’m not sure what to make of it either.”
Shadow rested himself and glared at the ceiling again. He pondered his existence and origin for a long time. Had he truly been part of a people which tried to annihilate humanity? If so, why were things so different in his old home? There was no such thing as death or violence there.
“It doesn’t matter now,” Morgan mused. Shadow looked her way inquisitively, waiting to hear what she would say next. “Neither you or I were part of that. We only know what we know. And we’ve only done what we do. You shouldn’t let things you have no control over consume you.”
Shadow groaned and pulled the comforter up past his head. Under the covers he felt his stomach where he had been injured earlier. Utterly exhausted, he fell into the sweet embrace of sleep.
***
Shadow awoke the next morning with the blinding glare of sunlight in his eyes. He winced and rolled to his side, hoping to block out the rays. As soon as he found himself in a comfortable position, he heard a great commotion coming from outside. It was not one of danger, however, and in realizing such, he covered his head with his pillow. He tried to fall asleep once more but to no avail. The noise outside was far too loud for one to sleep through. Reluctantly, he removed his head from underneath the pillow and looked around the room. Morgan’s bed was vacant and the sheets stripped.
“She must already have gone out,” he thought.
With grunting protest, Shadow arose from bed and clothed himself slowly, still weary from just waking. Checking himself as soon as he rose, he found his wound had healed completely and there was no sign of even a scratch on his body. He donned his pants and undershirt, and then hesitated, holding his coat in front of him. It appeared to be in perfect condition with no trace of blood or tearing at all. He fastened Masamune to his belt and stretched.
Exiting the house, Shadow was greeted by a large crowd. Next to the doorway, Xeno stood, leaning against the wall. He made no motion or gesture, and continued to look ahead to the horizon.
“She is at the edge with them,” Xeno said, turning to Shadow. “I have decided to stay here and protect these people as they move.”
Shadow turned to meet his giant companion. “So you really won’t come with us?”
Xeno said nothing in response. His eyes gazed deep into Shadow’s heart, and Shadow knew that he meant what he said. But that was not all. Something else entranced his eyes.
His lips did not move, but his mouth opened slightly. In a whisper, so soft for the giant man, Shadow wasn’t sure if he spoke at all, he thought he heard: “Be very careful. Mystics are branded as demons in this world.” Before Shadow could react, the crowd swept over him and blurred Xeno from view revealing Morgan. She stood in a striking pose, leaning forward with both hands against her hips.
With a mischievous smile she asked, “Well, sleepy head, are you finally ready to go?”
“Where? We have no knowledge of this place and no idea where to go or what to do,” Shadow said.
“On the contrary,” Morgan announced, pointing off to the distance. “We have a lead.”
Shadow narrowed his eyes in confusion. “A lead? What are you talking about?”
Morgan shook her head. “And I thought you were the one that wanted to do good and fight evils or some such,” she mocked. “The next location of those bandits, of course.” Shadow suddenly remembered the bandit camp from the previous day, the wounded man, and the attack by the strange creatures. “Aren’t you curious?”
Shadow nodded reluctantly. “Of course. There are those bandits and those other things, but where would we start?”
“I said we had a lead. Don’t you remember?” Morgan interjected. She took a scroll of paper out of her pack and unraveled it. It was a map. “The Cairn Keep awaits,” she beckoned.
Without a second thought, Shadow and Morgan said their goodbyes to the villagers. Each person wanted to thank the duo themselves, but the foreman stepped forward.
“Thank you again for all you have done,” he said. “You will always be welcome here.” The pair humbly accepted and started out on their new task, leaving the site behind. Shadow turned back as they had reached the outer ring of houses. Xeno was still nowhere to be found.