Chapter 3: Chapter 3 Atlas

A child learning of the power coursing through his veins and the discovery that led to his family’s murder. He ran and ran and through no short amount of luck, he survived the trek through the Wildlands and found a new home. Training and a wish to defend his new home was the only motivation that existed in the child’s heart. He grew up, found love and started a family of his own. There was a fire… pain and…loss… Atlas woke up. As it always did, the memories of the dream fled his grasp; so tantalizingly close to him, but it minus well have been miles away.

Each morning he would awake hearing the echoes from long forgotten wails. They scarred his soul but remained hidden from his mind. He was always left wondering and wishing for the memories sitting just… right… there, and other time it was for the permanent ignorance and for peace each night. Yet no wish would ever materialize. Consequently, Atlas grew to fear the night, sleep, and the dark.

Whether the nightmare now lost to him or the small tongue licking at his face, Atlas was now awake. Soreness buried itself deep in the muscles and bones, but other than that, he felt alright. When he opened his eyes, he saw a concerned look from Bane now licking at his face. His ears were tucked, and he let out a light wining noise. When he spotted Atlas’s eyes cracking open, the ears shot up and he began to hop excitedly across his bed. He wined and yipped and occasionally jumping on his chest. The dog would stretch forward to lick his face but grew too excited to finish, he would end up just plowing his nose on Atlas’s forehead then leap off. He was not a large dog, but thirty pounds forcefully leaping from a small area on your stomach still hurt.

“Bane, knock it off.” Atlas groaned.

Atlas lifted the blanket from himself but then froze. The memories of the combat poured back in, the Zetgast, the enormous foot, and then nothing. He had been out in the forest when he fell unconscious, and now he was home. How had he ended up back here? He fingered a small crystal in his pocket. He and Bane carried the only two, a key that allowed a body to permeate a magical barrier that protected his home. It would only allow a single body through, and that left him curious on how he had ended up in the bed.

He examined his room. It was the same as before; logs stacked horizontally about ten feet up with a small circular window where a curtain always hung closed. He lied on his wool stuffed mattress just barely able to hold his large frame, under a patch covered blanket that had accompanied him since before his isolation. A side table had a ceramic cup filled with fresh water and a small vase with long dead flowers.

The empty walls spoke to him, urging him to fill the space. Each time he tried to fill the area; he was only hit with a sense of melancholy. Over the many years, Atlas never discovered what needed to hang on that wall, though there was a small part of him that had a hunch. His family was lost to him now, both physically and in memory, but he couldn’t help but wonder.

Bane yipped, but was not agitated, only looking as if he needed to go outside. Atlas inched his way from the bed, tiptoeing, but he could only do so much with such a large frame. The wood creaked with each step but paused again staring at his dog. Bane tried to look patient, except that his butt was hovering inches from the ground in a half squat, and his little paws tapping showed the exact opposite. Atlas’s attempts to be silent was also moot as the dog began to wine louder and louder.

He was about to summon a blade but stopped. If he were to do that in here, the incantation would grasp the material from the earth then proceed to tear through the wooden floor. He did not want to do that, but in the back of his mind, he felt that he was in no real danger. Something or someone was able to get through his barrier, while also placing him in his bed. Why would it go through such trouble just to kill him now, when he was recovered. He would not go empty handed though and silently praised his procrastination as he grabbed a small knife from dirty dishes that he left sitting on the side table.

That was when the second thing hit him. Atlas felt sore, but that was it. He looked down at his unblemished hand that had been mangled the last he remembered. His arm was not broken, and his back felt in place again.

“Bane?”

Atlas then paused cursing at himself as he reached out with his magical senses. He felt like the Great Fool; living so long on his own, he forgot that he could probe for others attuned to any school of magic. It was different than trying to sense for monsters, as their magical matrix were utterly different than magical beings, which proved to be folly. Many of the more powerful beings could dim or manipulate their auras, but as someone with the incredible and raw power of an Earth User, it was unlikely to be hidden from him. He was out of practice, and what was meant to be tactile probing, ended up being a barrage of magical energy that would have staggered even himself if he were within the wave. Luckily it did not affect non magical creatures like Bane.

As this wave of energy exploded out in a stampede that quickly encompassed his entire compound, he was surprised to find that he could sense nothing. Had whatever brought him here left?

Bane scooted towards him with wide and excited eyes. His mouth would shutter open and closed in a comical interpretation of speech as he let out light wines.

“Fine…”

Atlas dropped the knife on the side table and opened the door. Old metal hinges creaked and squeaked; it never sounded so loud before. Bane took off running through a hallway, where there was a door one either side about halfway down. One was to a stairwell that went underground for his winder storage, and the other door opened to a bathroom he built over a river that ran through his compound. The other end of the hallway opened into his main living area and kitchen.

Bane shot into the living area and what sounds echoed after shocked Atlas. It was the sounds he made when playing with a toy, a muffled growl mixed with grunts from tugging. He also heard giggling, high pitched giggling as if a child was in his home. When he turned the corner, he was again surprised. There was a man in his living room, a huge man. He was not as large as Atlas himself, but to most other people, they would see two half giants not humans.

This one was perhaps in his thirties and build like a brick wall. Shoulders even wider than Atlas’s, he had pale white skin and striking blue eyes. A thick mop of curly red hair hung to his neck hiding old scars on the face.  He was wearing only thin shorts made from a fabric that looked as if it were silk, but was too shiny.

Despite the stranger in his living room playing tug of war with his dog, he did not give off any sense of danger, the opposite in fact. Atlas found himself moving closer to observe the two of them with a smile on his face. The other man was losing the fight with Bane and was nearly yanked off his feet. That surprised Atlas, but he did not think much off it. The stranger let go of the rope toy and Bane fell back. The dog’s eyes went wide, then hopped forward with little feet pawing out in the air. His short attention span was sated, and he ran off to find another toy.

Atlas studied the man; something was off about him but was unable to figure it out. The stranger watched Bane with a wide grin and a bemused expression. That was when he spoke.

“What is his name?”

The voice was much higher pitched than he expected form such a large man. He tried to hide a squeak in his voice much like an adolescent, but it didn’t get past Atlas. His accent was also strange, he spoke the common tongue, but the words sounded longer and flowed together as if he were speaking very slowly.

“Bane.” Atlas answered.

It was a long time since he had spoken with another human. His memories tried to pry themselves free, but the same wall remained as stoic as ever.

“Bane? That is an odd name for such a goof ball.” He replied.

That was true. He had named the dog after the ancient hero of Diantie, the one who stood under an army of monsters unflinching. He held them back as the city evacuated, but no one gave word to him. The story goes, that he held back the flood for three days singlehandedly, but eventually fell. The city state was destroyed completely, but not a single life was lost besides his. He was unsure how large the dog would grow to be, and now only thirty-five pounds fully grown, he was a bit of an oxymoron.

“He’s a good boy. Even though he tends to be more of a monster than the ones outside these walls.”

Hearing his own voice was giving Atlas shivers. He spoke often to his companion, but it was always low or even a whisper. Other than dealing with the Zetgast, he had not used his full voice in a long time. This had not crossed his mind when fighting the creature, he has been too preoccupied. But it hit him much harder than he expected. Atlas chose to come out here, his memories were slowing fading, but he did remember that. Did he want to talk to anyone? He had to admit to himself, that he felt a form of comfort speaking to someone again, and the fact that he was not trying to kill him was a plus.

“Monsters?” the man asked.

Atlas tilted his head at this but decided not to go into it.

“Who are you? How did you get past my enchantments?” Atlas asked.

“Enchantments? Is that what you called it?” the man scoffed in his child like voice.

“Yes, enchantments.” Atlas said slowly. “You shouldn’t have been able to get in.”

“Ya’ll speak funny, you know that?” he asked.

Was Atlas speaking to a child? It felt like it.

“You were able to take down my enchantments? Did you get them back up?” Atlas asked quickly realizing that if his barrier was down, then monsters could just roam in.

At that moment, Bane ran back in with a wicker ball. He growled when the stranger reached for it and Atlas laughed as he quickly withdrew his hand.

“Don’t worry, for some reason he growls like a Prowler with that ball.” Atlas explained. “He still wants to play, though he may nip your hand by accident.”

Wait, what was Atlas doing, this was a stranger in his home!

“Who are you?” Atlas asked more firmly.

The stranger picked up on the tension in Atlas’s voice and turned towards him with a calming smile and a raised hand.

“My name is Charley.” He said.

Atlas looked at his hand questioningly.

“You don’t shake here?” Charley asked.

“Shake?”

“It’s how you introduce yourself where I come from.” He explained while gesturing to his hand again.

Atlas lifted his hand and grasped the other.

“That is what we call a Limp-Fish handshake. It’s the sign that you’re not really a man. You need to be more firm, like this.” Charley said shaking his hand again.

Atlas complied and squeezed his hand; it was surprisingly boney and weak.

“OW! Okay, it’s not a competition on masculinity.” Charley said through gritted teeth.

Again, something was hiding at the back of Atlas’s mind, and he could not figure it out. What was going on with this one?

“My enchantments? Were you the one that killed the Zetgast?” Atlas asked.

But that was impossible, this one had no magical energy about him at all. Even that Zetgast, barely hanging on to its miserable life, would be orders of magnitude stronger than a typical human. But there was that enormous golden foot, had he imagining that?

“I… well… sort of. Yes, I took them down. They were pathetically easy. And for the other thing you said, was that the headless guy?” Charley asked.

Atlas nodded warily.

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“That was my bud.” He replied.

“Your bud?”

“Yep. You’ll meet him. If you want, I mean.”

“Was that the enormous foot?” Atlas asked.

“Well, he is more than just a foot.” He laughed “I like to think that he is an extension of myself.” Charley said with a sly smile.

Atlas was unable to keep up with this man, there was something off and he couldn’t figure it out, and it was not just his odd accent and his blatant blasé attitude. He nodded to the other man, still warry, but still unable to see this man as a threat of any kind. Though he thought that his friend may be a different story.

“Come on, Bane!” Charley shouted.

He suddenly leaped into a jog and ran to the door. The wood did not creak under his feet and the foot falls were not as loud as he expected. Atlas was surprised as he did not look so light on his feet as he ran for the front door then outside.

Atlas could see that it was light outside, though he was unsure what time it was. He felt groggy as if he had slept in too long, but he did just wake up from some pretty bad injuries. Despite this, he followed the man to the door.

The midday sun stood directly above him. He had built his compound in a forest clearing, so he could see the sun each and every day. Though in the winter, which by the chill air was beginning to show its signs, he could go days without seeing the rays that warmed his face. He looked out inspecting his home, there was about an acer of bright green grass speckled with dandelions and other wildflowers. To the right and nearly twice as long was a garden and farm. To the left were pens of chicken, cows, and sheep that he had cultivated over the many years he lived here for their milk, wool, and eggs. He would rarely need to butcher the animals, the forest around them were filled with wild boars and deer that seemed to spawn nearly as rapidly as the monsters. There was a tall wall, about fifteen feet, made from sharp obsidian that was harder than steel. it surrounded his entire compound with a twenty foot decline at the other side of the wall.

Cutting through the middle of the mound he built his home on was a ten-foot-wide slowing moving river. Through some simple plumbing made easy with his abilities to manipulate the earth, simple irrigation flowed throughout his home, giving him easy running water. Unfortunately, it was frigid, likely coming from the glacial peaks to the north. When he had found Bane, one too many accidents had happened that led him into building a wall similar to the compounds barricade along the edges of the river.

Atlas had built a balcony on the roof of his house that gave him a contrasting view of the liner and unnatural forest around him. The odd trees with their identical heights made for a view either wonderous or entrapping.

The wall surrounding his home was not the barricade he was worried about; it was a magical enchantment he had placed on the wall itself. It was simple but quite powerful. Essentially, it was a large magical door in the shape of a transparent dome. Only those with the key could walk through it, and that was him and Bane. The nice thing about simple enchantments, were just that, they were simple. Simple to put up and simple to take down, and Atlas had warded off any ability he knew of when it came to dispelling the wall, and yet he could feet that it was dispelled.

“Yeah, it was easy to take down, but I was not too sure how to put it back up.” Charley told him noticing his lingering gaze on the wall.

“How… Where are the monsters? They would be attracted to me if not for the wall.” Atlas asked with worry in his voice.

“Nah, it’s all taken care of, though if you can put the wall back up, then my friend can join us.” Charley said nonchalantly.

Atlas narrowed his eyes at the man, then moved towards the closest spot of the wall to him. When he reached it, he then placed his palm on its cold clammy surface and closed his eyes.

“They are attracted to you… that is for sure.” Charley said.

Atlas grunted in reply.

“They kept coming, nearly every hour for the last few days.”

Atlas’s eye shot open.

“Days?!”

“Yeah, you’ve been out for some time.” Charley replied.

“How long?”

“Three days.”

Atlas stood there shocked for a few moments.

“A…and you…” Atlas was thinking about normal bodily functions, and the fact that he did not smell like someone who had been stewing for a few days.

“Yeah.” Charley said awkwardly.

Atlas turned his head and decided that he would forget this conversation had ever happened.

“If your friend would like to join us. I can have the barrier up in about ten minutes.” Atlas told him.

“Don’t worry, he can come in without disturbing the barrier.”

Atlas was about to protest, then remembered that this man was able to drop his barrier with ease. Perhaps this one was unable to just walk through, but if they had knowledge unknown to Atlas when it came to protective enchantments, then he would not be surprised if the other one could.

Atlas closed his eyes again and focused on the wall around him. Many years ago, he had buried the magical fuel and requirements needed for a ritual of protection. This allowed him to build up the barricade the first time but was worried that the remaining materials were not enough to cast it once more. To his surprise, it appeared that none of the materials were completely consumed. Thankfully, it would be simple to recast, though he would need to collect more of the needed materials; highest on that list would be monster’s blood.

After a few minutes of directing the magic through the salt buried just within the wall of his compound, he focused his energy into casting the enchantment once more. It was simple, clean, and precise, just the type of magic Atlas preferred. Many times, on the battlefield, someone would come at him with some convoluted collection of powers and magic items and Atlas would still take them down with a simple blade in the neck.

“Interesting.” Charley said. “Crude but effective.”

Atlas turned to the man behind him. He was sitting on a wooden bench Atlas made many years ago. It was nearly ten years old and was covered in a thin layer of moss. Atlas never sat on that thing anymore for fear that it would snap under his weight, and when he looked at the strange man, the bench barely bent under his weight. That was when it clicked.

Atlas moved towards him, stuck his foot on the man’s chest, and heaved him over. Just like he thought…

“Hey…” Charley shouted.

He began to wave his fingers around in a somatic incantation, similar to the way Atlas would.

“You are using some form of illusion magic.” Atlas stated while placing his foot on his hand.

He did not hurt the man’s hand, but he was still firm enough to pause the spell. Charley looked back with wide eyes filled with terror and… and tears? Was he crying? Suddenly, Atlas flashed back to a face, a small face on a small girl. He was holding her shoulders as she cried. He was comforting her… as suddenly as the memory came, it was gone. He was back looking down at the man.

“You’re just a boy.” Atlas said.

“No… i…”

“I am not going to hurt you.” Atlas lifted his foot.

He knelt and lifted the unnaturally light man up to his feet. Just as he expected; his hand felt a slight resistance at the skin, then phased through and felt a boney body underneath.

“You were the one who killed that creature?”

Charley nodded.

“And you healed me?”

He nodded again.

“I am not going to hurt you, but I will if I have to repeat myself once more. I owe you a debt it seems, and that debt only goes to the real you, not to a facade.” Atlas said this slowly and carefully.

After a few moments, the large image of a man began to sizzle away into smoke and popping noises and what remained was a boy. He was perhaps sixteen, but it was hard to tell, he was so emaciated with more bone than anything else. Forgetting the physical changes, he still looked like the man from before, with red hair and eye bluer than the sky.

“I thought that… you would kick me out if you knew.”

Atlas did not answer, rather he was transfixed by something unseen, but felt. The boy now radiating incredible power. It felt raw and untamable. It felt like the sun itself and it was completely overwhelming. Atlas had lived a long life knowing that he was the most powerful being he would likely come across, and this feeble child made Atlas feel like an ant under a boot. This world was terrified of Atlas for his destructive potential, but he could only imagine the dread they would feel when encountering this one.

For once, Atlas felt the fear he imposed on others and for the first time, he sympathized with them.

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