Chapter 14: 12. [Back] Lucas and the Sword Part 2

[WARNING: This chapter contains content that readers may find disturbing or uncomfortable.]

12. [Back] Lucas and the Sword Part 2

========================================

Info About The Back Chapters:

The Back Chapters will provide a glimpse of the characters’ pasts introduced at the beginning of the story (in chapter 2) and serve readers a more understanding of the world the characters live in.

The Back Chapters may be skipped as they won’t play a big part in the main story but, at the same time, gives a background of how the main story had taken place (which is why they’re not considered as “extra” chapters).

The Back Chapters will be long and fast-paced, but breaks were placed in between for readers to rest and come back and continue reading. The word "Break" between two lines will indicate that it is a break - just a clarification so that readers won't misinterpret single lines as a break. They're just time skips.

======================================== 

[The Story of Morgan’s Past]

- Year 1145 -

- Righteous League / Eastern Land / 103rd District -

Living inside a broken-down house with cracked walls and missing chunks lay a 6-year-old boy curling up in a ball, sleeping with sweat soaking his barely-covering clothes. With malicious gritting, the child grunted and bit his fingernails. Every time he breathed, visible white vapors were seen leaving his mouth and into the air. The sky above got covered in dark clouds that began to precipitate.

“It’s cold…” he weakly muttered as he coughed from his dry throat. He took a deep breath and exhaled, causing his body to shiver and shake with discomfort. The boy wore nothing but a brown blanket over his top that stretched down to his lower thighs. This small cloak couldn’t even cover his sides, bottom, legs, or arms. He felt miserable, resting his bare feet on the cold ground with pebbles pushing up against his side where he lay.

But then he heard the door of his home opening. The boy instantly opened his eyes and looked to see the creaking entrance slowly widening. Coming through that door, he saw a woman in her 30s wearing a coat and an overly small white shirt underneath. She wore a white skirt that came down to her mid-thigh region. She carried a small bag hanging around her folded arms with bite marks that looked like a person's.

"Mama," he said, smiling. “Welcome back.”

There was no answer. The woman closed the door aggressively and walked over to sit on the other side of where the boy was. He continued talking in a weak voice without hearing a reply from her. “Mama, I’m sick… Is there any wate-”

“Don’t talk to me." The woman harshly said to the boy while sitting on the floor with a dejected expression. She grabbed her back, opened it, brought out the coins, and began counting them.

“Mama… You got more money again. Is it because you went out with those peopl-”

Suddenly, a bag came hurling towards the boy. He had barely any strength to dodge the incoming object and took the full-on hit with his face, grunting from its hard impact. Despite its small size, it held a good amount of weight, causing the boy’s head to jerk back and get pounded on the wall. A wave of dazy heat came rushing at his mind like a crawling parasite sucking his life form.

“I told you to get out of here, so get out!” The woman shouted with lips smudged with lipstick. More bite marks were found on her neck, shoulders, and chest. “If it weren’t for that man, you wouldn’t have been here in the first place.”

“Mama…” The boy mumbled, sitting there while closing his eyes tightly. His head pulsated with each wave crashing onto his mind like the rays of the sun burning his flesh. “Mam… It hurts…”

He wept in agony while keeping his sorrowful mind from going deeper into despair; otherwise, his mind would feel more pain. But after a minute of tearing hopelessly, cool liquid water poured on top of him. As it came in contact with his head, he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue to drink the water dripping on him. Despite the water collecting debris and dead bugs in his hair, he kept drinking.

“Here,” the woman said while holding the bottle, tilting it, and pouring it on top of the child’s head. “If you want water that much, here. Drink and get out of here.”

After the bottle became empty from its continuous downpouring, the woman threw it at the corner of the house and picked up the bag she threw from the floor. Standing up, she glanced at the shivering boy with barely any clothes covering him from the cold. A moment later, she undressed her coat and placed it on top of him. When he felt the warm fabric coating his warmth, he grabbed onto it and tugged it closer to him. He flattened the material to cover his entire body.

The mother returned to her usual spot, sat on the dirt ground, and opened her bag to grab a small box. She opened it, revealing roughly a dozen cigarettes neatly arranged inside.

When she picked up one of them, she placed it in her mouth and snapped her fingers to spark a flame. However, nothing came out. As she kept snapping her fingers, only a small flicker of light got emitted, but only to get extinguished a fraction of a second later. “Damn it,” she gritted her teeth. “If only you understood…”

As she continued to light the small stick, the boy closed his eyes and rested his head on the wall. Without any strength left to lift his body or even move his arms, he helplessly sat with burning discomfort still lingering in his brain.

“Mama, you’re making a scary face again… Why…” Enduring the soreness, he fell asleep until the darkness of the night arrived, and the precipitation grew into a downpour.

 

 

- Two weeks later -

The boy walked down the barren streets while holding a sharpened stick roughly a meter long. He searched around his surroundings, turning his head back and forth to find anything on the ground.

Bugs… Bugs… With his stomach rumbling in starvation, he kept looking for anything moving on the ground. Two days… and my mama still hasn’t… Where did you go? I need food… Anything is fine…

In the corner of his eye, he found a small crawler that looked like a lizard. Instantly, he ran at it, stumbling a couple of times until he was right in front of it. However, to his shock, it ran away with its four legs. Moving faster than the boy, he saw it fade into the distance until it hid under a hole.

The boy, clutching his small stick in his hand, sighed and continued his search.

Suddenly, something grabbed onto the back of his neck, squeezing it tightly and almost lifting the boy from the ground. He gagged out bits of air, gurgling while dropping his stick to the ground. With all his strength, he reached over to his back to fend off the tight grasp. But as he did, he felt a human hand almost twice its size and much thicker than his.

A tight hold was pulled back, directing the boy to a nearby house and pushing him against a wall. He struck his head on the hardened clay, repelling back from the hit and bending his knees in agony. He fell to the ground, his teeth chattering, and tears rolling down his cheeks as he cried in pain.

“Hey there,” a voice called out from behind, turning his head around to see who was speaking. But with a squinting glare, he noticed four bodies almost two feet taller looking down on him. The scorching sun above shined on top of their bodies, and a layer of darkness enveloped their front. But he saw a slight remnant of a noticeable grin on their faces.

“You,” the person in front spoke first, who appeared to be a boy a few years older. “Where’s our money?”

The boy stared at them in terror, barely able to react. He muttered what he had to say with all that he could muster. “I… I have n-no money. B-But I promise that w-when my mama comes back-”

“Excuse me?” The leader bent down, meeting each other face to face. When his front became more visible, fear crept up on the boy's back as he kept sliding his body to the wall behind. “I gave you four days. That should've been plenty, don’t you agree?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Aw, you poor little boy.” He brought his hand up to the little boy’s chin and lifted his frightened face to an open view where the sun almost blinded his sight. The other three boys in the back chuckled lightly. “Just look at you. Your mother must really love you. You look like shit.”

Please… Let me go…

“You are so skinny, I can just bend you like a twig if I wanted to.”

I’m scared…

“You are such a baby. You must be enjoying seeing us playing with you.”

Please… Mama… Help…

“Say,” the leader stood up and walked to where the sharp stick the little boy had dropped. The three opened a way for him as he kept talking. “How much do you like your mother?”

The boy lowered his head with tears falling from his face. He answered with a shaking voice. “I love my mother…”

There was a brief silence as the leader picked up the sharpened stick and walked back to the frightened boy. “I see,” he said while squatting down and running his fingers along the sharp wooden tip. He then lightly pressed one of his fingers on the razor tip with a neutral expression. “Tell me, why do you love your mother?”

“Mama… She gives me food… She gives me water… She warms me up and helps me when I’m-”

Before he could finish talking, the leader grabbed the stick firmly and plunged the sharp edge into the boy’s arm. An intense and excruciating feeling ran down his arms. The leader slid the stick down with great force and ripped the boy's skin wide open. Blood came rushing out, and the boy screamed with all the air he had in his lungs. He kicked his legs uncontrollably, rattled his head, and screamed with all he could.

“Oops… That was a little deep…” The leader held the stick with red stains all over the tip as he looked at the boy, who wept and gagged with unimaginable pain. Three boys backed away with a slight concern as he screamed so painfully.

“Um,” one of the boys said hesitantly. “Should we be doing any more than this?”

“They asked just for money,” the other said with uncertainty. “We should just follow their words… and not kill.”

“Oh- shut it,” the leader said while grabbing the boy’s hair. He wailed in an attempt to escape its grasp. With all his strength, he pulled away from the boy’s hand, ripping a portion of his hair on the side, causing his entire body to fall to the ground. He sniveled while grabbing his open wound that ran three inches along his arm.

“This kid really pissed me off when he said he loved his mother. Personal reasons,” he grabbed onto the boy’s neck and lifted him. The child couldn’t do anything but follow the hand’s movement so that he wouldn’t feel any more pain than what he was currently withstanding. The hand lifted and dragged his head across the clay wall and brought him to his feet. He stood there and kept his eyes hidden from view.

“Hey,” the leader punched the boy in the eye with a strong force, silencing the child’s cries with blood from his arm splattering on the wall. “This is what happens if you don’t bring what we want.”

He continued punching the kid all over his body, landing hits with power that almost pushed all of the air from the boy’s lungs. “You got that?” A punch struck his shoulders. “If I see you one more time without money,” a strike landed on his stomach this time. “I will end your life. Hey, you got that?” Another punch on the same spot.

The child stood there motionless. Bruises began to appear all over his body as a purple spot grew on his eye. He had no strength to cry or scream. Like a soul leaving his body, he remained standing with no response.

“...” The others behind the leader looked away, refusing to see what was happening. They gritted their teeth and clenched their fists as they listened to their leader land destructive hits on the boy who might soon die.

But as they turned their backs, they saw another boy coming their way. He was walking at a moderate pace while looking at his surroundings, glancing at houses and open fields with a broad grin.

“Uh, a boy is coming this way,” one of them mentioned, grabbing the leader’s attention as he turned around. Letting go of the little boy, he stood back up while brushing off the dust collected around his knees and attempting to wipe the blood splattered on his clothes.

“Let’s see if that kid has something for us,” the leader said, disregarding the little boy behind. “We hide behind the houses until we walk behind him. He may come across this weakling. When he does, we proceed with the plan.”

They nodded in agreement and walked past the little boy leaning on the wall with his hand clutching the bleeding arm. As the four walked out of sight, the child in the distance grew ever closer. And no more than ten meters away from each other, the boy shouted, “Hey, um…”

He raised his head to look at the boy walking up to him with curiosity and concern. In fear and worry, he replied as calmly as possible, “What, do you also want money?”

"Eh?" The boy stared cluelessly, examining the kid's entire body – almost scaring the boy. “I just… Um… You okay?”

At this point, the little boy’s vision slowly turned blurry. His mind began to feel lightheaded while his body’s warmth slowly receded. Coldness and tiredness crawled all over him. But hearing the person speak with a tone different from others the boy encountered and a voice of concern he never thought existed, he let out a small cry. However, he suppressed his tears, leaving only one to fall down his face.

Ah… I wish you came earlier… You sound so kind… If you were to come instead of them, I wonder how things would end up… I wish I could be around to talk… I wish… But…

With a weak voice, he muttered, "It's too late," as if his entire body was about to give up. He turned from the boy, walking down the barren path, the same path he had been following since the beginning. With his legs almost giving up entirely, he kept walking away until he was out of the boy’s sight, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

“Is there something wrong?” The boy shouted to him once more. “Why are you like that? If you want, we can play together somewhere! Wait! Where are you-”

As the child reached an intersection, he turned to a new set of roads, bringing him to another path of endlessly arranged houses stretching beyond his sight. Hidden behind the brick fences that covered him from the bright sun, he stopped walking and stood there for a good minute. And with no strength left, he fell to the ground voiceless. His life slowly began to deteriorate, and his eyes became crippled from dehydration and dryness. His heart beat slower and slower until he could barely take a breath. He was a minute away from losing consciousness.

“Oh dear,” a voice called out in front of him. Without the strength to look at who it was, he continued lying there as the figure came closer until he saw a small glimpse of the person’s bare feet. “I mistook you for someone else, but you’re really in bad shape. Here… Let me give you a hand. Stay still- just like that.”

Something bright was glowing and filling his dark eyes with warmth. A wave of comfort and a sense of vitality grew within the boy’s body as if the orange light was restoring his agonizing state. But due to the blood loss and fatigue, the boy closed his eyes until the darkness took hold of him. Silence came, and he fell into a deep sleep.

========================================

Break

========================================

It was around midnight, and the boy was still unconscious from his slumber. But out of nowhere, he felt an alarming coldness striking the side of his face. Like a feeling of cloth, it whipped the boy’s face across, causing him to grunt and open his eyes in awareness. In an instant, he felt on the side of his face the presence of liquid, presumably water.

He then looked around to see his surroundings. It was the usual outside setting during the night: stars twinkling in the night sky, houses bare of any life, pieces of waste scattered at random places, and cold winds whooshing by that sent shivers down his half-naked body. On the other hand, as he lay there, there was a lit campfire in his line of sight. He turned his head to see the sticks placed around each other with a large flame burning in the center.

Suddenly, another hard slap came from above, splattering a large chunk of water all over his face to the point where he had to shake his head and abruptly sit up. Hastily rubbing his side where he got hit, he wiped his eyes and looked at what was hitting him. As he turned his gaze around from the fire to his back, he saw a massive figure sitting on a pile of bricks. The person looked back with a curious look.

“Oh,” he said, pulling away his wet towel. “You’re awake. Slept well?”

The boy had no clue what was happening. Then something clicked in his mind about his current situation. After what felt like five minutes, he thought he had died. But as he stared at the man with blank eyes, he pondered his current state.

He quickly looked down to see his body, only to see a body that looked as if everything that had occurred was just a dream. When he raised the arm, where he previously had a large cut, he discovered perfectly normal skin - not even a scratch. In addition, his eye which was struck by a devastating blow didn't seem to have caused him any blindness or pain. He felt better than ever.

“Um,” the boy said in total loss. “Who are you?”

“Is that the first thing you ask?” The person roughly a few inches taller said with a grin. And, for the first time in the boy’s life, he saw a person that looked bulgy - quite overweight. “It’s Ted. I’ve cooked some scraps of fish. Eat some. You look very out of shape.”

“Did you help me?” He asked.

After a bit of exchanging stares, Ted replied, “Surprise. But what matters more right now is you eating. Go and have some. Otherwise, your empty stomach will eat you instead.”

The fleshy boy pointed in the campfire's direction. His attention was drawn to the previously unseen sticks jutting from the ground, leaning close to the bright flames with fish impaled on them. He turned back to Ted only to see him gesture to walk closer and grab a bite.

"Thank you!" He hurriedly crawled over, grabbed one of the hot roasted fishes, and began chewing. He left no meat on the dead carcass, leaving only bones, the head, and the fins. Immediately following the first, he grabbed the second and then the third.

“What’s your name?" Ted asked as he watched the boy eating vigorously.

“Ah nam?” The boy looked at him, speaking gibberish with fish meat shoved in his mouth. “Ie on’t have ah nam.”

“No name? I see.” He stood up and walked over to the campfire, sat next to the boy, and grabbed a stick. He began to eat the steaming fish in front of the fire. Ted, who was a few years older than the boy, had an overweight body. He wore a massive white shirt wrapped in light armor and pads. His short brown pants exposed his muscular legs, which seemed out of place compared to his overall body tone. He also carried a large bag on his back that seemed to hold lots of unknown content.

“Um,” the boy looked at Ted with curiosity. “So… How did you help me? I had a big scratch on my arm, but it’s gone now. A-And other things too.”

“You call that a scratch?” Ted asked with an uneasy look. “Well, all I did was heal you. It didn’t take long, and you slept for a few hours.”

“Heal…?” He looked at him with confusion as if he had never heard such a word in his life.

Ted glanced at the boy and dropped the stick holding a half-consumed fish on the ground. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Not many people in this place can control fire.”

The boy watched Ted look up in a relaxed position. Suddenly he looked at the brightly lit campfire and slowly reached his arm towards the blazing flames. Instantly, the boy jolted back in shock and shouted, “W-What are you doing?! You’re going to burn yourself!”

“I’ll give you a little filling of what I can really do.”

As he placed his arms on top of the fire, it nearly swallowed his entire visible skin and covered it with violent waving flames. With composure, he let his arm sit in the center of the light as the boy frantically called out to him to cease his insane doing.

When 10 seconds passed, Ted pulled his arms back slowly, revealing from out of the flames the same looking arm he had just inserted. Without catching on fire, the skin remained as light as it was. Without any sign of injury or burnt spots, he moved his fingers in a fluid manner, seeing that nothing had happened to his arm.

“Wha-,” the boy muttered in disbelief, pulling the stick he held away from his mouth and moving closer to Ted to see the impossible. “How? Y… Your arm. It’s not burning. It’s not… W-What?”

“People in my homeland call this ‘The Wonders of The Vessel,’ or so I heard. But I hear the exact words everywhere. The books I read, the things shops offer, the subjects that men talk about, the city in the distance, the land we live in, the clan you belong to, everything is about fire. Everything is about getting stronger.”

The boy, who was still skeptical about Ted’s perfect condition, looked up at his face. “Wonders… How do I do that?”

“How do you do wonders?” He jokingly said.

“H-How do I put my arms in the fire and be… perfectly fine?”

“Learn how to wield fire. That’s all there is to it.”

“Learn how to wield fire…” The boy followed. “And how do I-”

Ted got up and grabbed the fish he still hadn’t finished from the ground. The boy noticed his sudden departure and stopped talking. “If you want to learn how to do crazy fire stuff, go and learn how to feed yourself first. Also, get yourself a name,” Ted said.

The boy watched him leave, hastily standing up to follow him in worry. “W-Where are you going?” He noticed that the bag Ted was carrying had two sickles where the blades stuck out from the semi-closed cover. Even if there were other things inside that kept the boy curious, seeing those weapons caused him to back off with a wave of chills going down his body. This included his arm.

“I’m just here to do some business…” Ted paused for a moment as he spoke without looking back at the boy. “Anyways, your home is right behind you. Just keep walking straight down the road, and you’ll see your home eventually. If you want, you can finish the remaining fish left over.”

Ted resumed his walk, leaving the vicinity of the lit area of the campfire and into the darkness. The boy in the lit area called out to him, “Ted! Where exactly are you-”

“Also,” Ted stopped walking and faced the boy. “This may never happen, but I won’t ignore the chances. If you see one of the people from the Woodland Clan, dark-skinned people wearing many pieces of jewelry and fur, tell them that Tyla Havusk is doing alright.”

“T-Tyla who?” The boy asked.

Before leaving for good, Ted said his final words to the little boy. “Tyla Havusk. She’s the mother of m- a girl, Christine. You’ll get to see Tyla and her when the time comes because you will never miss the hat she always wears.”

========================================

Break

========================================

A week passed since I met Ted, and nine days passed since my mom went missing. She never came back home. All that was left was her bag and a small smoking-stick stuff box on the ground. But my mom wasn’t there. There were still a couple of those sticks and I tried to see what they did. I took a bite. It tasted horrible.

Standing behind an abandoned house far from his home, the boy slumped against the wall. He held a book, flipping pages periodically while the sun above reached its peak height, shining bright rays of light down on the boy. Next to him was a small arrangement of burnt sticks with tiny traces of fire burning in random spots. On top was a small roasted rodent that was half-eaten with a portion of its legs missing.

If my mom doesn’t come back, I will look for her. It looks like she ran from home or something. She left her bag she always carried around.

The boy flipped a page, gazing from one page to the next.

Ted told me many things before he left… But I think I remembered most of it. He said to eat well before learning about fire stuff, so I tried. But I don’t know. I found this book in one of the empty houses, so I’m just reading over it. In the book, ‘Basics of The Vessel,’ there is a lot that explains how our body can make fire. Fire, a chemical process of combustion from three major factors: oxygen, heat, and fuel. We have these things called a vessel in our bodies, and the vessel is like a system of its own.

He moved to the next page, skimming over the words and paragraphs he read multiple times.

But still, I can’t use fire, and I don’t know why. Why can’t I do things that Ted could do? But then again, my mom had a hard time lighting her smoke sticks…

And when I think about that night, was all that a dream? When I woke up on that night with Ted, was everything an imagination? But… How am I alive? I thought I died… And now I can’t find Ted. Where is he- And where are those boys that almost killed me?

He turned to the next page, flipping faster by the second. He began to shake his legs while slanting his back forward.

But if that night wasn’t a dream… Then what he said must be real too… That Wood- something Clan… And Tyla Havusk… And her daughter, Christine… And those men… And my healed wounds-

The boy jolted his head up with a large inhale while swiftly closing the book. He stared at the sky for a moment until he gently exhaled, easing his posture and lowering his moderately rapid heartbeat.

I’m tired… And hungry. Maybe I should go find more food. I wonder if things would’ve been different if Ted or someone showed me how to control fire earlier…

The boy stood up, carrying the book around his folded arm and walking down the path next to the row of houses. As silent as he walked, he looked at his surroundings attentively, thinking that someone may appear in the corner of his eyes. But after each passing house, his prayerful hopes of finding his mother began to fade.

Suddenly, he stopped and abruptly turned his face to the back, the direction from where he came. Looking at the hundreds of houses stretching across the dusty atmosphere, he saw the closest houses separated a few meters apart.

… For some reason, it feels like someone is watching me. Ever since that day I came across those big people that hurt me, it feels like my mind became more aware, or something. But I don’t think it’s anything though, so I think it’s fine.

The boy turned around and continued walking down the dirt path.

Mom… Where are you?

 

 

- Four Years Later -

“Hey, kid, what’re ya doing here alone?” A man under a well-covered store in the market asked, facing a small figure dressed in a thin brown cloak that coated his entire body and face. Between the man and the boy was a flat wooden counter bare of any content, and behind the store owner was a line of fruits stacked up on slanted shelves. Some looked shiny and new, and some looked brown and wilted.

“Um,” the boy said as only the top of his head was visible to the man. He had to tip-toe and lean over the counter to see the top of the boy’s face covered by a hood. “Can I have a banana?” He asked, looking up, revealing his light brown eyes to the man.

“A banana?” The store owner questioned skeptically. He turned away from the boy and looked at his board, listing all of the fruits written on the counter, serving customers the items available. This kid can read? Now that’s something I don’t see often…

The shopkeeper turned to see his products arranged in rows for a convenient view. There was a spot holding a bunch of bananas in a variety of colors, including some green/yellow, some spotted, and a lot with brown filling. He walked up and grabbed a brown-spotted banana until he got interrupted.

“Can I get a good-looking banana?”

Immediately, the man stopped reaching for one and turned back to face the boy that remained at the same spot. “Kid, how much money have ya got?” Seeing the child possessing no protective armor underneath his cloak, to the man’s eyes, he looked like an abandoned child trying to survive on his own. “I can give ya one for free since I’m generous towards youngsters. But if y’want a good product of any choice, y’need to hand me some coins.”

“How much?”

“For a good-looking banana, let’s see… I’m guessing a green or yellow, correct?”

“Yes.”

“It’ll be five copper coins.”

The boy then fidgeted his arms underneath his cloak, reaching over his back and grabbing a small bag that he revealed by his relentless search. He put his hands inside to fetch out five copper coins, causing the sounds of small metal pieces to clash with one another. Based on the amount of clicking, the man raised his eyebrows and leaned closer to the boy.

“Hey, kid,” he asked. “Where’s your money coming from? Do ya steal, or are y'possibly a venturer?”

As the boy searched for the needed coins, he replied, "I'm none."

“Pardon?”

“I, um, get coins by searching. A lot of houses are empty, but some have stuff inside. So I get things by walking inside and grabbing nice stuff.” He looked at the shopkeeper who had a conflicting look after his continual seek. “Uh, I don’t have five copper coins.”

“See?” The man concluded. Say things like that when you have money, little boy. “I’ll just give ya one for free, how bout it? So give me a momen-”

“I have a noble copper… If that’s okay.”

The man’s eyes widened, looking at the boy as if he saw a ghost. “Oh... Right, of course, that’s okay. I’ll give ya five coppers for the change.”

On the counter, the boy placed a noble copper coin for the man to receive. He then lifted it to his face to analyze it.

A smooth circular coin, with a noble head, and has the right signatures. It really is a noble copper… This little boy…

“...Very well, give me a moment.”

========================================

Currency Info (Recap):

1 Noble Copper = 10 Coppers

========================================

The man gave the boy a near plain yellow banana that had a filling of light green on the tips with barely any brown spots. He then gave five copper coins to the child. “Y’know, I’ve heard the residence is a very dangerous place these days.”

“Residence?” He said, bewildered.

“It means houses where people live and sleep in. It’s where ya get your coins from.”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s dangerous.”

C-Can a kid be ‘this’ calm? “Well, it looks like you’re used to it… What have ya been up to? I heard from other shopkeepers around the league that men're capturing people for bad things. Some were sent to the boundary line. But it looks like you’re still fine.”

“I just, um, I’m good at running away,” he said as he peeled open the banana and proceeded to eat it.

“I see…” The man had no thoughts of the boy other than to be skeptical. He looked at the child's innocent eyes. The man was puzzled by his simple responses and attitude. “Well, I shouldn’t be wasting any more of your time, kid. Ya want anything else?”

“Yes, please. Can I have-”

 

 

After buying fruits, he hid between the small openings between market stores and ate them all at once. Two apples, two bananas, one pear, one peach, he ate them all, cutting his overall remaining sum of money into half.

The market consisted of many identical stores based on their structural look. But behind these buildings, there was always an open area bare of anything. When a road splits an area in two, the road would usually branch off and form a rectangular formation, ending at the Central District. The stores in that box always left extra space in the back, creating a back-alley type of setting. Some could reach lengths of 10 meters though some could reach 40 meters. It all depends on what locations the markets were in and how substantial the rectangular box was.

When the boy finished his fruitful meal, he walked behind the stores. It was an open area composed of random waste, scraps of rotting food, a group of bugs flying around, and small metal cans.

A few men are still looking for me… I ran from them many times and not once have I got caught.

Recently, the boy began to understand that his physical strength was average and his intellect was his strong suit. Carrying the bag his mother had left in the house, he continued searching in hopes that he would find her soon. But to do that, he must get by on his own and, most importantly, survive.

Before, he feared he would come across those groups of boys again. Because he lived off whatever his mother provided, he never understood what the world had in store. But now that his sense of resolve got stronger due to his continual exposure to the harsh environment, things were different.

The Central District is a place that provides a great view of the market, the houses, and the tower. If I walk out there alone, I will stick out since I’m tiny… And also that I’m wearing a cloak. But if those men find me again, I’ll make sure to run out in the open field for better running since running around the market can be tight. But then again…

However, his judgment and thinking could sometimes be his weakness.

Maybe running around the market instead wouldn’t be a bad idea… If I just do many turns, they would lose me, right? But what if I hit other people by accident- and what if those men are waiting for me right around the corner to catch me when I make the turn? But then again… If I run in the Central District and run to the opposite side, will those men wait for me there? What if they made a plan to lure me to the open field and surround me in all directions? W-What do I do? Ah… I’ll… Just… Run in the open field…

Feeling drained from his thought process, he walked mediocrely around the Central District, hiding his small figure behind the back of stores while looking around for a sudden movement.

Maybe I’m overthinking everything. I should just go home… I remember running away like five times from those men in under seven days. They don’t think smart, but they can be persistent, and that’s scary. I should go live in another house today as well… Hah… I’m exhausted. Maybe I ate too many fruits.

You are reading story The Five Elementalists at novel35.com

He sighed as he approached a road perpendicular to his route. Despite his tired state, he kept looking around until he saw something right in front of him just a meter away.

“Oh, a girl.” Right on the road, a little girl roughly as tall as him passed. He continued walking and ignored her, but before he stepped out from the shadows and into the well-established road, he quickly turned back to where the girl was. Taking a quick glance at her, his eyes grew larger. What stood out about the girl was what she wore.

========================================

“Tyla Havusk. She’s the mother of [...] Christine. You’ll get to see [...] [Christine] when the time comes because you will never miss the hat she always wears.”

========================================

A hat.

The hat, he thought. The hat! It’s the girl…! C-Christine…? Christine!

Continuing to walk, he watched the girl wearing a braided round hat pass by until she slipped out of view. The girl held a basket around her arm, warming the boy’s heart for some unknown reason. She gave off a peaceful atmosphere that he never experienced, causing his mind to drift off and lure his attention toward her.

Walking closer, but just before his feet stepped into the brick road, he peeked his head out to where the girl was.

Christine, he thought. Is she out to grab something? Maybe food or clothing. Why is she…

But then the boy saw another figure right beside her. Another boy slightly older than him walked next to Christine as they periodically stared at each other while smiling joyously. However, whoever that person was, he gave off a familiar atmosphere to the boy.

Who is that person walking next to her? Do I know him? It feels like it, but where have I seen him? Is he her friend? … Why am I hiding?

The boy began to wonder while watching the two children entering the Central District. Despite them looking older, he couldn’t help but be concerned due to their lack of awareness and defenseless looks.

Christine… Is she even the girl Ted was talking about? It should be. No one else is wearing a hat, so it must be her - no doubt. But where is her mama? Shouldn’t she be with her? Why is another person as young as her walking together?

The boy looked at them with conflicted eyes and began to sweat with uncertainty.

Where is the papa? At least he should be protecting… Actually, never mind. He remembered his experience with his father, a face of a man he had never seen nor known.

Anyways, it looks like she’s safe. But still, I need to see her mom. I need to know how Ted knows them and the tribe he was talking about. I’ll just tail her and that boy until she goes back to her house.

Seeing the two figures distancing by the second, the boy began to move around the market. He weaved through roads and shops, hiding behind buildings in vast empty places, and avoiding the Central District. As he walked, he covered his identity with his brown cloak, concealing his face from anyone’s view.

Running attentively, looking to the side where the two figures were heading, he quickly caught up to them without making a noise.

Suddenly, as he was running across a road, he saw something in the corner of his eyes. He saw a glance at two familiar bodies wearing dark shirts and pants. He knew who they were based on their masculinity and body posture.

Instantly, he leaped to the other side of the road before the two figures could see who passed by. Like a tumbleweed being pushed around by the wind, the boy appeared and vanished in a couple of seconds.

One of them, arms crossed with a scar on his face, looked ahead to see what was moving in the corner of his vision. He kept looking for a few seconds.

"Sir?" the man in front of him asked in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

The two men were standing on the side of the road between two shops. Their position caused each of them to look in opposite directions, one seeing the Central District while the other seeing a long weaving road stretching far in the distance.

“Oh, it’s nothing," the man with the scar replied. “It looked like there was something that was moving right behind you.”

The other person turned his back on him. After a short period of searching, he turned back and said, “It may be just your imagination. That wine we’ve been drinking must've done us some levels.”

“Right… Anyways-”

As the two men resumed their conversation, the little boy listened in on them. Behind a shop and away from their view, the boy leaned against the wall and stuck his head out. With a couple of people walking by without caring about what they were seeing, the boy took his time listening to their conversation.

Those men. It’s the same men that were chasing me. But as long as Christine isn’t around them, I’ll just listen to what they’re talking about… Maybe hearing their plans for capturing me may come in handy…

“About his orders, how many more do we have to send to the wall?” The man asked.

“Words still pending,” the leader with the scar replied. “And speaking of which, a few are still wandering around in this branch… Have you guys captured that pesky child yet?”

“N-No… He is still running out there, and every time we try to get him, he outmaneuvers us.”

“And tell me why you guys can’t catch him. He’s a fucking child.”

“It’s just… It feels like that boy can read our every move. We tried surrounding him, but that didn't work either. He just keeps on escaping.”

The leader bit his lips with a frown. “... You shits are just bad at doing your job. If this goes on…” That boy. If he grows up, he may be more of a threat to our boss. If people like them grow up and serve that child, the Scavenge Organization will lose to the Market Industry… Damn. The shittiest part is that our boss is pushing our limits, because no one knows a damn clue about who this hero is and when they're arriving.

I wonder what they’re talking about, the boy thought while scanning the area around him, making sure no one was approaching him. As he remained hidden from view, the two men continued speaking.

“No matter,” the leader said. “For now, focus on the other remaining children. Toss them over the line and report to me before the end of the week. We must never bring that child in the wrong hands.”

“Yes sir…” The man replied. “And about that singing girl-”

While the boy kept listening, he continued placing his head flat on the wall and looked ahead to the open view of the Central District. Suddenly, his sight revealed two familiar figures slowly coming to light. One was a girl with a hat while the other was a boy, walking side by side with smiles on their faces.

Oh no… In sudden panic, the boy began to realize that one of those two figures was Christine. Slightly crouching, his heart beat faster with their presence almost visible to the two men, who were yet to notice.

The boy kept switching his focus from Christine, to the two men, and back to her. And as they came into full view, it became a game of suspense, waiting for the leader to tilt his gaze ahead.

Um… What? Oh, I forgot. I forgot that I was following Christine! I should’ve done something when I saw the two big guys! B-But I-I still have time, I think! If I just think of something… Um… Think… Ah… What do I do?”

“Have you understood what I just said? Just watch over her until I say we capture her,” the leader ordered. The man nodded in response. “Good. Once we receive our wine bottle from the Exchange Service, we will gather together as planned.”

The leader stared at his pocket watch and read the time. As he got a clear read, he then stared at the guy, who looked as if his mind was blank. He remained silent while looking ahead of the leader.

“... What's with that ugly face?” The leader asked in confusion. He then turned around to see what the speechless man was looking at. To his surprise, about a shop away was a little figure with an identity entirely hidden from the brown cloak. He rotated his entire body to face the child, who seemed to mind their own business.

“Sir, that cloak,” the man said with a loss of thought.

But then the child looked at the two men with a neutral face. A hand emerged from the cloak, holding a pouch. As he raised it head-level, he rattled it as if inviting the two men to get it. However, they remained without motive.

“It’s you again,” the leader said while turning away. “Get out of here. We have no business with someone we can’t catch. We won’t bother, so go on.” Yeah right. I will definitely catch you one day, punk-ass kid. And when I do, I’ll make sure I beat the shit out of y-

Suddenly an object hit his head with incredible force. He jerked his head forward and scrunched his face from the forceful impact. The man stepped back as he saw his leader become agitated. He stared at the ground to see what had hit him.

“S-Sir,” the man looked down, bringing the leader’s attention to the floor. He saw a pouch roughly the size of his fist. “He threw that money pouch at you." The man smirked from seeing the bag filled to the brim with content. "What an idiot. It looks like we get free goods.”

The leader, who felt lumpiness forming on the back of his head, grabbed the pouch and brought it to his face. Opening it while ignoring his man’s chuckling, a wave of fruity and waste smell swarmed over his face. He jumped back and reverted his look for a moment. When the strong odor subsided, the leader glanced at what was inside. And as he did, his grip on the pouch became stronger, causing his arms to shake and rattle the bag in full-on anger. He became so enraged that blood began to flow up to his face, causing him to look beet red.

Staring ahead to where the kid was, the leader could see the flailing brown cloak walking at a moderate pace in the distance. The boy periodically turned his head to see the two men infuriated. On his face, there was a hint of expectation.

“You… Fucking bitch!” He shouted, throwing the pouch - which held all of the remaining leftovers from the boy’s fruitful meal, including some feces - back at the child. Immediately, the boy began to run away, dodging the incoming pouch as it fell to the ground. “I’ll make you fucking pay, you hear me?! You can’t run forever!”

"Sorry, I already paid for it!" The boy replied jokingly.

The leader began to chase after the child in rage. People walking along the road dispersed and made way for them. But as it became a death chase for the boy, while he continued to run while making sharp turns around the shops, he smiled with satisfaction. He ran nonstop, panting and breathing in composure as he fled from the shouting men who had almost had enough of his games.

This… the boy thought while grinning. This is fun.

In the distance, the two figures finally entered the road branching off from the Central District. One wearing a hat with a basket around her arm, she looked ahead in wonder, staring at three figures running away while hearing faint echoes of their shouts. The boy looked as well, tilting his head and saying, “What are they going on about?”

But after a few seconds, the girl looked away and continued her search for necessities. “I’m not sure… But anyways, right around the corner, there will be some flowers. I can help you get something for her.”

The boy asked hopelessly, "That'll be helpful... Anyways, what was that girl’s name again? We’re going to see her today, right? So, you know, could you remind me again… Please?”

The girl suddenly frowned, looking away from him, who seemed oblivious to her reaction. After a moment, she replied, “Fine, but take it seriously, got it? She is very cool~. Her name is Kia Dawnborne. Greet with politeness, because it’s not just her you’ll be introduced to.”

“W… What do you mean? You mean I’ll have to introduce myself to other people?” He asked, trying to understand what her last sentence was about.

“You’ll understand when you meet her. But anyway! Let’s walk faster, Lucas! We must get some goodies before heading back! Some flowers should do!”

“Kia Dawnborne… K’ got it. Let’s go!”

 

 

Half an hour passed since the ongoing pursuit of two men chasing the little boy. As he continually evaded the riled men, he ultimately decided to go to residential homes for better maneuvering. It was less crowded as the distance between houses was wider than stores in the market, creating gaps that provided better turns for the boy.

But after a while, the men ended their persistent chase. The leader had other intentions and refused to allow a child to sway his plans and motives. He told his men to turn around and gather at the place he had designated and walked away from the boy.

He turned back to see them end the deathly hunt. The boy thought that what he did gave enough time for Christine and the boy to return home safely. However, he didn’t realize where he’d drifted them off. Taking turns and going down roads, passing by houses and a couple of wandering people, he didn’t know where he was. Despite the fogged tower in the distance giving him some intel, his overall whereabouts were unknown - nearly every house arrangement was identical.

Um. Where exactly is Christine’s home? He thought while helplessly looking in the distance, seeing the two men slowly fading into the dusty atmosphere. Maybe I should follow them… Um. Just in case. Afterward, the two men gradually became visible as the boy caught up to them.

Suddenly, the boy felt a big tug from behind him, pulling the back of his collar and holding him in place. He immediately widened his eyes and was startled by the sudden stop. A flash of memories came before him as emotions crashed like waves. He remembered the four boys who had confronted him and had scarred his mind in terror. Sweat dripped down his back and face, shivering in fear like a child in utter defeat. Without the strength to talk, he stood still and waited for a response.

“Hey, you don’t have to be so scared,” a familiar voice said from behind. A sound of a young boy a couple of years older than him. It was a tone of a non-provoking person, rather, a neutral one.

Remembering the voice, he slowly turned his head around to face the person holding him in place, which didn’t feel threatening now that he thought about it. And even before looking at the figure’s face, which he had to raise his head to see, as soon as he saw the plump body, his eyes sparkled. “Ted!”

“Yo, it's been a while,” Ted replied with a mild grin. “Now, enough with the introduction. About those men, I recommend you not to interfere with them any longer.”

“Interfere?” The boy questioned. “I’m just watching them, though.”

“You threw… Ah- You were being chased by them.”

“But not anymore. I want to know what they’re doing, that’s all.” You knew I was being chased?

As he stared at the child, he was speechless. Ted finally let go of the child, enabling him to turn around and face each other in comfortable standing. Clearing his throat, he continued, “You remind me of... Anyways, let me rephrase… Don’t follow them.”

“W-Why?”

“It’s around this time that the men gather to make plans and such. They’ll be walking over to their base, and a lot of them will be there, so I wouldn’t follow if I were you. You’re really going to get caught even if you outsmart them.”

I think I remembered the two people talking about something like that in the market… It’s about that plan thing they were saying. “Um, how many will there be?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh… But then what if those two-”

“Don’t worry. The Havusk Family will be alright. The men won’t come across them. They’ll also be safe since the men are located elsewhere. It’s those two that will be the closest people to see them, but it's still very low.”

When Ted mentioned the Havusk Household, the boy was unsure of who exactly he was talking about. But after some thinking, he remembered that Christine was a part of that particular family, including her mother whom he still hadn’t met.

“Oh. They’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure of it.”

“Um, how do you know about that? C-Christine was in the market… And if they meet the men walking around, they’ll be…”

“Just don’t worry a thing. We are far enough from their house that even if the men were to walk across her, she’ll already be in her house. The men don’t really look inside houses because many times they’ve died that way from traps. If you’re worried about her, just wait for a couple of hours. I think her house is a mile away if you walk down this road.”

When Ted mentioned men dying from entering houses, a feeling of dread and worry filled his mind. Oh... There… were… traps…?

Seeing the boy’s dreadful face, Ted said, “You good?”

“Y-Yeah… It’s nothing,” he replied. “Ted, you know a lot. Are you used to this?”

Ted thought for a moment before speaking. “I just explore, that’s all.”

Ted turned away from the boy and walked ahead with the same bag he held from the last time they met around the campfire. “Well, anyways, I gotta go. But before that, I want to know something. Have you found a name yet?”

“N-No. You’re already leaving?” He asked.

Ted nodded. “There’s something I have to do. So, I’ll see ya later.”

“Oh,” The boy said without any words to talk back with. With a raised hand, he waved it back and forth mediocrely. “Take care.”

========================================

Break

========================================

It was the afternoon of the same day, and not an hour had passed since Ted’s leave. The boy, who remained at the same spot hidden from view behind the house, began to lose his composure. His patience was replaced with worry and eagerness to step out.

He was told to refrain from following the men as he would most likely get captured - though he would expect that day to come due to his tendency of getting chased all the time. This raised conflict for him. Despite living alone, something inside him prevented him from doing whatever he wanted. If someone he gained the trust of asked him to do something, he would do it without question. Ted, who he recently gained that trust with, was now a part of what the boy believes he should listen to.

From his rising urge of wanting to know what would happen to Christine and the other boy, he was eager to walk up and follow the men’s direction. But instead, he sat there hidden in the shades. He shook his legs for, to his saying, “A ton of duds.” To keep his mind at ease from the situation unfolding for the two, he kept himself occupied with other things he wondered about for a while.

Where does the food come from? Do people grow them around here? I see a lot of food being taken by people, and after a week or two, the stores get filled back up. Maybe it happens at night, but I’m not sure where the food came from. Maybe it’s from somewhere else… I guess I should try and search for my mom somewhere else too.

And there is that Inn, that big building that’s almost three times taller than any shops around. It’s very long and wide, and there are a lot of people going inside it - a lot of strong people. And I learned that those people go inside of that tower. They wear strange clothes and big weapons. I feel like they can be more of a threat than the men who chase me. Besides, they should’ve used fire to catch me, but never did.

If those strong-looking people go inside the tower, then is there something in that tower? They wear tough clothes which look like it’s good for defense. So… What’s inside of that tower? It’s very huge. If I were to walk around an hour away from it, I would still see it. Also, was that tower there the whole time?

And based on the books I’ve read, it looks like everyone is surrounded by a wall that no one could escape from. When they try, they would fall victim to that land that keeps us trapped. I’m curious what this land is like if it could keep humanity bound by it. That fruit store man mentioned a little about it too - about that Boundary Line. But if it does kill people, then I shouldn’t… But… I want to know what it would be like to step over it. Maybe I’ll take a look later… Because right now… Aaaaah!

The boy suddenly shook his head while messing with his hair with his hands. Shaking his legs frantically, he screamed out of uncertainty and impatience. At last, he stood up and regained his composure.

That’s it… I want to know what’s happening… But what about Ted and his- No. I’m going… Ah… This sucks… Why am I doing this? Why am I so worried about them? I need to find my mom, but I can’t ignore them because of what Ted had said.

========================================

“If you see one of the people from the Woodland Clan, dark-skinned people wearing many many pieces of jewelry and fur, tell them that Tyla Havusk is doing alright. [...] She’s the mother of [...] Christine.”

========================================

Stepping out at the light, he dashed down the empty road in the open. Sprinting with the strength he had recovered from his rest, he ran and ran. His feet left behind a trace of dust rising from the ground.

Wherever he wandered, he passed by unoccupied houses that gave the entire town a ghostly setting. While only a few men and women passed by, the boy's observation of the nearly bare roads left him with the feeling he could get ambushed. However, he still had a concern about being followed.

After a few minutes of running on the same road, he slowed his pace and looked around more frequently. I don’t see anyone. Where are the men? Maybe they went to a different road… And for Christine, I still don’t know where she lives. I guess I should stop finding them.

Going back to the ghostly town, he turned his gaze to the houses where half of them had open doors which exposed their interiors. No matter which open doors portrayed emptiness inside, he always wondered why there were so many built houses when barely anyone was using them.

Looking at them, there sure is a lot. And many of them are empty. One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six… Seven… Eight… Nine… Ten… Eleven… And the row of emptiness would continue for another 20 houses. I saw some people go inside a couple, but for some reason, they would always check their surroundings before going in. It’s as if they were checking for something or being aware of something watching them.

But I’m confused… Because even if they were to look around their surroundings, they never look at me. As I kept trying to find my mom, I did the same thing and tried to watch out for the people close to me. But for those people, it’s as if they wanted to ignore me and tried to look at something else. Were they looking for those men or something? Or maybe there’s something more-

As the boy ran while looking to the side, he felt something under his feet. He stepped a couple of feet forward before coming to a complete stop to see what he ran over. He turned around to look where he had stepped and erased whatever was going through his mind. And right in front of him, just about a meter away, there was a familiar object he recognized not too long ago. The boy's eyes widened, and he stood still at the sight, wringing out a memory of their conversation.

========================================

“You’ll get to see Tyla and her when the time comes because you will never miss the hat [Christine] always wears.”

========================================

Before him was a braided straw hat resting on the ground, dirt and pebbles coating its edge and burying it deep. A gentle breeze brushed the ribbon tied around the hat with the two tails swaying in the air.

A… Hat? The boy thought. That’s the… That’s… Why is…

For the first time in a while, his mind blanked from the hat shown before him, the exact one Christine wore. There were so many emotions flowing in his mind that he couldn't think properly.

The hat suddenly jerked up and down from the ever so slowly growing speed of the breeze. Watching the hat rest in front of him, the boy jumped out of his empty thoughts.

Right… The hat. Did she, by chance, drop it and forget about it? W-What do I do?

The boy stepped back, sliding his feet across the ground and creating the shuffling sounds of gravel running along the bottom of his sandals.

S… She must’ve forgotten about it.

Without looking away from the hat out of disbelief and worry, he took another step back.

I have to go find her!

And on the third step, loud cracking noises could be heard below. He abruptly stopped and stood still from an oddly sharp sensation piercing his sandal. Even if it wasn’t touching his bare foot, he could feel the solidity of the object he was stepping on.

He quickly looked down and moved his foot aside, but there was another sharp pain below his foot. With his gaze fixated on what he stepped on, he saw a little shard of glass broken to pieces. Assuming it had occurred from his step, he moved his foot aside once more to see another spot of broken glass.

He slowly turned around to see the vast expanse of utter chaos. There were broken glass shards, blood marks on the ground that seemed to have spewed far away, and a random metal sheet used for the exterior of houses. All seemed to have been recent. Even the blood hadn't completely dried off.

… What? At a complete loss of thought, the boy stood still while looking at the horror before him. From one edge of the road to the other, there was blood, more blood, and dozens of glass pieces scattered everywhere. What just happened?

The wind was slowly picking up, tugging at the boy’s cloak and drifting his balance to the side. Widening his stance, he tucked his cloak closer and covered his face from the wind coming right beside him.

The sun became dim, blinded by the breeze growing into a wave of gusts pulling unimaginable quantities of dust into the air. The atmosphere was filled with high-pitched howling. The glass shards with a slight curve started to rattle and move back and forth, creating multiple clicking sounds in under a second.

Oh- The hat! In sudden realization, he turned around to see the hat getting blown away. The winds sent the hat flying roughly a couple of feet above the ground. The boy quickly ran towards it, avoiding any debris that could enter his eyes.

Quickly snatching the hat before the winds could blow it any further, he kept it underneath his shoulders and hid it underneath his cloak.

What’s going on here? His mind slowly cleared up from the confusion. Did a fight happen? And why was Christine’s hat so close to the…

Asking questions and observing what he saw helped him connect ideas and understand some context behind their existence. Having done so, he came to a conclusion that caused his body to sweat and his mind to be full of anxiety.

Without a minute wasted, he hustled down the road, keeping the side of his face hidden from the strong winds carrying large clouds of dust. He looked around his foggy surroundings in hopes of finding any sign of where Christine was.

Blood… Blood. There must be a trace of blood! The boy thought. Where’s the blood?! I can’t find any trace of it!

In search of remnants on the ground, he looked around in all directions, even ahead of the windy storm - but no luck. At this point, he couldn’t see anything over a two-meter radius.

The boy drifted off to another set of roads and then the next. In hopes of finding something, he kept turning from one path to the other.

I don’t know why I’m doing this… Were the words coming from Ted that important to me? But she’s… pretty too… Anyways, I have to find her! And that boy she was with - was he taken too?! He could only think of the possibilities if he were to be in this situation. The storm would never allow him to find a correct path to his destination, even if he came up with a valid conclusion.

Amid his panic, a glimpse of his memory suddenly swarmed in. He felt it again: a stinging pain radiating from his arm. He frantically looked at his skin, but only to see a woundless surface. No matter how much he tried to forget about it, he will never forget the pain of feeling his skin being ripped open.

Running like a lost child, the boy continued his blind search for the girl and the boy. Remembering the family Ted mentioned and his hope to find Tyla one day, he faded into the dust and ran for hours into the abyss.

 

 

The sandstorm still raged, and the sun slowly crept over the horizon, becoming a dim orange blur through the dense fog. After a couple of hours, the boy had yet to find Christine, continuing to hold the hat folded in his arm. He was breathing rapidly in pain that resounded inside his chest. He never rested, and his tiredness and fatigue quickly grew along with a burning feeling in his throat from the dusty air.

At last, the boy stopped running and placed his hand on his bent knees to rest his upper body. Breathing deeply to calm his racing heart, he looked around to see any buildings. As expected, he found many of them - identical houses lined up in rows for miles.

I’ve been running around recklessly… I was sure I was going to where those men went. But I shouldn’t have made that turn. Now I’m a little lost… I guess this is what I wanted since I was planning on going away at some point. But I should’ve at least known where I was going… Anyways, now that I’m somewhere different, I can hopefully find my mom. If not, I’ll go somewhere else.

The boy coughed up small bits of dust. He reclined and walked towards one of the houses near him. For now… I’ll stay inside until the winds calm down.

Approaching a house and opening the door, he quickly entered and closed it behind him. The one he set foot in had no roof, causing small bits of light to shine over the wall and into the interior. He refused to look at his surroundings because of his profuse coughing, jerking him forward and forcing him to close his eyes from the pain.

He walked deeper, assuming no one was inside. He pressed his hands to the wall and followed it until he found a comfortable spot to sit. As his condition slowly recovered, he slid his back on the wall and took a seat to take a slight rest.

I’m thirsty… he muttered weakly, coughing from his dry throat. And it’s getting cold… Is there anything in this house? Maybe I can find something.

He looked around to see if there was anything he could find. He viewed the counters, shelves, the table, and a single chair. Without luck, he didn’t find anything useful. But when he turned his gaze to the floor in front of him, he saw something stand out. He stood there, and the more he looked at it, the more he began to breathe abnormally.

His eyes widened, and his posture slanted forward. It wasn’t easy to see at first because the figure's color matched the color of the walls and the ground. And looking closer, he noticed bruises and cuts all over it. A figure lay there motionless, hiding its face behind the small table. But seeing that body in front of him, the boy knew what he was looking at.

“... Mama?” The boy said with a frail voice. He stood up and walked closer to the body, a skinny, light, and smooth body covered in wounds. As he approached the table, he looked at the face, believing that he was seeing his dream come true. That dirty face, messy hair, and a cigarette right in front of her mouth resting on the ground, it was his mother he longed to find.

“Mama… Are you sleeping?” He said silently, leaning closer to meet her blank face. “I… I’m home.”

The boy shook her body, but there was no movement. After a slight pause in hopes of a response, he shook her more frantically. “Mom, were you out with those people again? Are you tired…?”

Minutes of joy upon seeing his mother after long weeks turned into feelings of doubt and worry. He nudged his mom, even more, speaking in a louder tone that filled the entire house. “Mama? Mama, I missed you. Why aren’t you wearing anything? It’s cold… Here...”

He placed his cloak on top of the still body, covering from the neck to the feet and leaving the head wide open. Moving the table aside, he sat close to her face and watched her unchanging expression for a good minute. Seeing no sign of breathing, the boy gently shook his head, and tears slowly crawled out his eyes.

As he kept swaying his mother’s body, he pushed her far enough to reveal something underneath her head. With her hair slowly being pulled away, a small book appeared from under that had red smudges in some spots. It was square, and the book's width was not much thicker than a couple of inches. The boy focused on the sudden appearance of the book below her mother and slowly reached out his arms to grab for it.

When he brought the book close, he looked at the cover to find that it was just a blank front. There were streaks of red over the brown covering with no words seen anywhere. He then looked at the material inside, starting from the first page. Before he proceeded to read, he saw that the thickness of the front and back covers made over half of the overall book’s width. Even the words on each page weren’t long. And they were written in terrible handwriting. It read:

[This is my last message to those who don’t work with those men - you know who you are. If you are reading this, please, I ask you, find the man with blood-red hair and kill him. He has no scars on his body and his face is a monster. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Fuck him. Fuck the living shit out of him. He is someone who should never belong to this world. He ruined my life, so ruin his and throw him in the garbage and waste. He killed my family and did whatever he wanted to me. He threatened me over and over. Kill him. Kill him. He is the only person that shouldn’t have-]

This carried on until the entire book got filled. The ongoing words of hate and threat for a single man frightened the boy, causing his tearing eyes to stop and look at the endless display of rage portrayed before him.

But when he flipped the last page to the back, he saw a small slip of paper. Between the page and the back cover, it slid and fell right on his legs. It spun in the air for a bit and once stopped, it landed on the side where the boy saw small words written in one large paragraph.

As the paper's texture was fraying, he carefully brought it in front of his eyes, seeing the small handwritten words. Even before reading, the atmosphere from this slip gave out different energy from the book. And the boy slowly read every single word engraved on the paper:

[Morgan, this is a message to you. You were my only son and the memory I will hold onto. Morgan, my baby boy… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rough to you. I shouldn’t have treated you horribly. I’ve been a terrible mother. I wanted to say this to you all this time, but I didn’t want to. It was for your sake. It was for you to never trust anyone in this world. No matter who you come across, even me, never turn your back on them or you will get killed. It was for you to understand that trust never existed in this world. I wanted you to learn that. I wanted you to learn that this world is cruel with a false sense of justice. I wanted you to hate me. I wanted you to kill me… But why? No matter how hard I tried, you never did. You never showed any hate. You still loved me. Why? Why? Why do you have to make things so much harder? Stop loving me. It hurts. I wanted to protect you, I wanted to raise you, I wanted you to live a happy life… I wanted to love you back, but I can’t. You don’t deserve to live with me. Find a life that suits you the most. You are my child I will always cherish, no matter where I am. I still remember your baby hands holding onto my fingers. I will remember your cries and laughter. I will remember all of them. And one day, if I see you one more time out in the streets, I will come to you and give you all that you want. I will love you with all that I can. So, my baby boy, Morgan, stay strong. If you read this, stay strong. And if things change, then don’t wait for me, but wait for a child who will come to this world and destroy the wall. Wait for him, and serve him. Follow wherever he is going, and never turn your back from him. But for now, survive. Morgan, live. Goodbye, until next time.]

The boy saw small circular wrinkles on the paper in some spots. But more than that, he saw the words he would never have come across, the words he never would've received from the one he always loved.

He sat there in silence as he repeatedly read the paper, reading words for hours. It was so abnormal that he believed it to be someone else. Even if he denied it, something inside drove him into despair. His heart ached, and his vision became watery. His hands began shaking, and the paper slowly got drenched in tears.

He couldn't stop crying. And if he tried to, even more would come out. He sniffed, and his voice whimpered and squealed in pain. He put one of his hands to his knees to prevent his weakened body from falling and collapsing. He couldn’t smell from his stuffy nose and couldn't breathe from his immeasurable pain, a pain that felt more excruciating than the time his arm got cut open. “Mama…”

The boy sat on both knees, looking at the paper and the motionless woman until the sun vanished over the horizon, ushering in darkness and quiet. And with every second, his tears and cries slowly faded. Eventually, he gained composure, wiping his tears and snot dripping from his face.

Without a word, he put the paper in his pocket and grabbed his cloak from the body. Putting it back on, he stood up and looked down to face his mother one last time before leaving. After a moment of silent glare, he turned around to face the closed door, opened it, and stepped outside.

Leaving the hat he held that belonged to Christine with her mother, he walked down to the dark and empty streets. He faced the darkness as the sand storm dwindled into nothingness, revealing a long path of houses on the sides. Stars gave light to the ground as a couple of lit buildings in the distance also provided sight.

Slowly and steadily, he trudged along the road, body, and head covered by his cloak, and his face hidden in the dark. Without taking the slightest sniff or cough, he kept walking and walking. And with his enraged emotions, he spoke in a deep voice:

“Morgan…”

[To Be Continued]

 

 

 

You can find story with these keywords: The Five Elementalists, Read The Five Elementalists, The Five Elementalists novel, The Five Elementalists book, The Five Elementalists story, The Five Elementalists full, The Five Elementalists Latest Chapter