Chapter 29: Black Butterfly Part 3

My footsteps stomped on the wooden tiles of our floor, the snow peeling off and landing briskly on the now burgundy floor which had almost entirely settled from the leaking bloodshed my father gave off. The wood gathered on my back, straddled on some string tightly snarled around and strapped to me, rustled around with each step I took before I set it aside next to the fireplace, undoing the knot and throwing a bit more on.

 

The two of them, my mother and my father, gazed upon me endearingly and I fraudulently smiled back — or anyways what it felt like — and sat back down on the seat, resting my fur coat on the back rest.

 

My eyes caught that he had emptied his bowl and his tea had now been left impoverished with remnants of soggy herbs lying below after being drained of their properties.

 

“Was it good?” I called out to Aldir, who looked starstruck, gazing into the open nothingness.

 

“Hmmm. It was. Thank you again, to the both of you. I love the two of you so mu—”

 

“Yeah, yeah we get it. Can we stop delaying this any further. I gave you the chance to recover, but our situation is looking worse than you would imagine. So please, explain to us, or to me at least, what happened to your arm, to you as a whole.” I cut his words with a sharp stare. I needed to remind him that this isn’t something we can sit on for the next couple of days. No matter what impact it had on him. Something needs to be done now, otherwise we may not live till he is ready to tell us, or worse, he reveals it to us when it's too far gone.

 

Embarrassed, he scratches the back of his head and gives out an awkward chuckle at which neither mother or I laughed at alongside him. “Right, right. Sorry for that.” He cleared his throat and looked to his missing limb, feeling the urge to scratch something that was no longer there. He then grabbed his stump and began speaking once more.

 

“As you know, less than a day ago, I left our home to hunt up in the North East territories. To be more precise, the Challengers caverns. We had all come to a unanimous decision that we were not going to be able to survive with what we had through this winter and we needed more, so in turn I proposed heading for the Challenges caverns. You two hesitantly agreed and I set off a day after the original dispute.”

 

His tale began in the place we all knew, making sure the events were still fresh in our minds I figured, but he could have just been reinforcing the idea of how bad of a decision it was to go to those caverns.

 

“Fortunately, on the day I left, the snow had calmed to an extent where I could see a decent distance ahead of me. The only recent time this winter that the snow had actually subsided. Swiftly moving on, I followed the path to the territories like I had planned until I was about, maybe halfway there. I had an option to make. Either travel through the designated path and extend the journey, or take a viable shortcut that would have posed more danger, but I would be able to arrive there prematurely. Naturally, I decided to venture through the No-man's gorge.”

 

His choice seemed immediately faltered in my view. He tried to cut down a few hours off the road to get there faster by utilising the path which would have put him in unknown danger. It seemed he was desperate to get back and deliver good news, but in that frame of mind, he would naturally choose the wrong decision.

Especially if you are talking about the No-man’s gorge. The “No-man’s” part isn't there for decoration. It’s a title earnestly claimed by this terrain for its unforgiving history where numerous died and where an important battle took place in one of humanity's civil wars.

 

The fallen’s burial.

 

He distinctly saw my cutting eyes pierce his and he quickly attempted shaking them off. I had to let him know how bad of a decision this was. Although, looking at his right arm, it seems he’s already learned.

 

“So?” I prompted him back to his retelling.

 

“oh , right. After I entered, I walked on the only real path you could, following the narrow track latching onto the mountain. Snow began picking up a while after that and the chaotic wind began throwing me off the mountain. Obviously burnt out from the exhaustion, I decided to make a pit-stop at the end where an old, ruined temple stood. I casually walked in there and…that was my biggest mistake. Seeking shelter. If I carried on walking, I probably could have made it in the next two or so hours, but I…”

 

Hesitation and regret buried themselves deep in the conscience of his words. “It’s okay. You did the right thing, seeking shelter that is. If you were to continue walking, you probably wouldn’t have frozen to death, but you could have easily slipped. Great warriors need to know when to rest.”

 

I attempted to comfort his sorrowful gaze, lingering in a faint teardrop coalescing round his eye.

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He wiped his tears with his large, rugged hands and continued. “I paced further inside to the temple, until I saw some amethyst light burning with incredible intensity on multiple pillars and I think, six or seven people dressed in complete black robes. None of their faces or anything, was revealed. I knew I shouldn’t be there and I attempted to leave, but they somehow knew I was there. One of them, I think their leader, began walking up to me. And I don’t know if I was going insane or not, but the swallowing emotion of fear came like a landslide that buried me. I couldn’t even clench to make a tight fist. His hand reached out to me, extending far to my right arm. A slender glove sat on his hand, and on it an emblem of some sort shaded in black also, but slightly lighter. I can’t quite remember what it was, but it's the only real detail I recall about them. And after that, my arm was severed. As soon as he made contact right at this point,” he spoke, caressing the covered stump where it had been cleaved off, “it fell off. Dropped to the floor, followed by intense gushes of blood leaking onto the temple floors.”

 

His recount began to give me a sense of familiarity. I didn’t know who he talked about, but they seemed to strike a chord within me, one of resemblance.

 

“The last thing I heard from them was, finish him. All I remember after that was running for my life, and I somehow escaped. They seemed to stop unnaturally, after I left the No-man's Gorge, but I didn’t care. I ran here, constantly pouring mana into my wound to heal it so I could last. That’s, that’s what had happened.”

 

He could no longer constrain the waterworks, collapsing on his knees. I rubbed his back and helped him up onto his chair.

 

“It’s alright father. You are now home. Nothing bad will happen here. Thank you for sharing that experience. It must have been hard. However now, we must decide on what decision to take next. This will be vital to our survival.”

 

Silence resumed and none spoke up. My mother idly fiddled on her chair, messing around with her fingers as if they were the strangest thing she had ever used. She was clearly uncomfortable and wanted to avoid this topic, but that wasn’t going to happen.

 

My father on the other hand, rubbed his soppy eyes, dropped like a saddened pup and recomposed his face to his usual stern and serious expression. He attempted to speak up, but no words left his trembling mouth.

 

I suppose it’s my time to take the helms of this sinking ship. “As the two of you realise by now, our situation is dire and we are running out of food and money. Father can’t go back out to make this journey again and it's not like we can hunt animals in the near proximity, they have all dispersed into warmer places, travelling away from this unusually cold winter to return once spring arrives or the situation stabilises. We can’t unfortunately wait until then, we do not have that choice. Something needs to be done and for one, I offer to go in fathers stead to the Challengers caverns.” I took the lead of this house with my charisma and my gripping tone. Though I was just short of seven years old, no one in that room felt like a seven year old was speaking. The air grew heavy and my eyes hounded theirs who couldn’t bear to meet mine. My mother tried rising up and objecting, yet she merely collapsed onto her knees and brought me for a tight embrace.

 

“I guess it’s time…Aldir, we should let him go.” A soft murmur rose from her.

 

“How can you say that!? He’s a child, he’s our son!” He retorted in an outburst controlled by emotion.

 

“He’s not just a child is he? We can’t say anything to oppose him! He has backed up his skills and he’s our last hope! Please, Aldir! For the sake of his future, let him.” Her words sounded subsequent, like she guided her speech in a way that was knowledgeable of the present.

 

The tears ran down her face like a stream and she clung to the floor, hitting it and reasoning with my father. “We have to, we have to let him go!!” After a while my father only looked staggered, guilt and dejection present in his ever ageing face. He followed her to the floor in a deep embrace and matched her falling tears, the two conflicted about morals, survival and possibly something else.

 

It was their moment. A moment I wished not to intrude on. I wondered though, in that moment, if I hadn’t reincarnated into their child, would such a scene, a fate come across their lives. Nevertheless, what ifs are pointless, the only thing you can focus on is the nows and how you will deal with life's challenges.

 

“So, what will it be?”

 

“Please, son. For your useless and worthless parents…” His words floundered, stumbling over his tears and his large intakes of air trying to calm himself, “please go.”

 

A father on the floor bowing in front of his son, apologising for being a failure and forcing him to fend for the family. A circumstance I’m sure he’d never thought he’d be in, and neither did I. It was a tragic scene, even in my eyes…but it didn’t change the fact all I felt was the need to accomplish the task they set me.

 

“I’ll be back soon, mother, father. Await my glorious return.” I replied with a soft smile curling up on the corners of my mouth.

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