Chapter 3: Chapter 2: The Inner Voice Wants to Take Over.

That dream haunted me every once in a while.

When I was six, I went to play in the village.

I had heard about the storyteller who lived by the village gates when I listened to a chat between my mom and her friend Zeniva. And I heard that the children used to play in the field in front of the old storyteller's house. Zeniva had said that the area was big and spacious, with only one gate separating it from the forest.

And I wanted to play with those children. Perhaps, it wasn't a good idea to stay home and look at the village kids coming to Zeniva's little cottage to take Neive- her daughter- with them. Perhaps I should go and play as well, filling up my desire.

Yes, at six, I had wished to have a friend.

That's why, one day, I asked my mother to go out. And she smiled at me and told me to go.

But, later that day, I thought it would have been better if she had prevented me. Because when I met the kids, they weren't as welcoming.

I recalled how it had happened with every bit of detail. I could never forget that day, even if I wanted to.

Every kid was in the dry yellow field. The house of the old storyteller was behind them, big and two-floored. They were in a horizontal line, and each one of them had a stone. One threw it to a point in the ground and tried to reach it by jumping with one leg.

And I wanted to participate.

But they prevented me from playing along.

They formed a line in front of me, looked into my dark eyes, and asked me for my name.

They were right. I still needed to introduce myself. I prepared a little introduction in my head.

I was Ruth, a boy. A six-year-old boy. I had a single mother, a lovely mother whose green hair was a unique feature no one in the village had shared, including me.

And I wanted to play and throw a snowball in the winter if possible. And I did not want to become friends; my mom told me not to befriend anyone here. And you could ask me why, but I wouldn't be able to answer. I'm yet to know the reason as well.

I had wanted my introduction to be like that. Although I thought it was long. It would be a one-time introduction, so it should be fine.

But at that time, I had discovered something. Something my mother had never stressed, something I had never felt wrong because my mother had never brought it up.

"Ruuuuuuuuuuuu…"

My tongue was heavy, and words wouldn't come out. And even if I had to force out a word, its letters would crumble and rearrange as if my tongue wasn't mine.

The kids in front of me froze. I could see Neive standing beside a boy with brown hair and freckles. On her other side was a girl with unique red hair and another with red hair and freckles. Someone had called the freckled red-haired girl Zozi, so I guessed it was her name.

"Baah…"

What was happening? I kept on making my words worse.

It was completely different.

I had yet to be taught how to pronounce my name. My mother had never stressed, making me feel that it was normal. But the other kids seemed to have different thoughts. They dropped to the ground laughing at me. They called me deaf, called me stupid. And in a few seconds, the dream of going out to play with other kids became my first nightmare…

Even Neive laughed…

I regretted going out.

I walked back to my house.

My back was arched, my eyes felt so narrow that my field of vision was getting smaller, my legs felt numb and trembling, and my steps were short. And my heart beat so intense that my chest tightened. It was a feeling I had never had before, and I wished to forget.

But when I reached my house and my mother opened the door and looked at me from above, she noticed instantly.

"They bullied you?" she asked.

What was bullying? What was laughing? The only thing I understood was that I was so scared and embarrassed that I wished to be buried and hidden from the look of anyone.

I couldn't talk to my mother again, not after I had become aware that I couldn't speak. I just extended my hand up for her to pull me inside.

And inside the house, I remained stunned and frozen between the kitchen and the living room.

People were scary.

They gave me a feeling that I never wanted to feel again. I never wanted to be laughed at again. I stared at my mother as she poured some water into a jar.

She came to me and offered the jar.

"Drink it and forget," she said.

I drank. But I didn't forget.

She then hugged me, and I felt her warmth traveling through me slowly.

Then she held me with both arms, strolled to our couch, and sat down.

"Ruth, dearie. Close your eyes and let us imagine a good dream together," my mother said, placing me on her lap and covering my eyes with her smooth hand.

She told me to imagine a world with long rivers and waterfalls. Then, she described a waterfall to me. And explained the middle continent to me. A place where people turned on the lights with a click of a switch. A place where women dressed in long, fluffy dresses and men wore a style of clothing called suits.

"The king would sometimes hold a celebration. It could be for an annual occasion or for anything the king desires," my mother said. "And the noble people would come and dance together, and noblemen would have a chance to see the princess of the human kingdom.

She told me that one day I would be in such a celebration. She told me that I didn't need to be a nobleman to be in such a place; I just needed to be strong enough to be seen by them.

"Thin-Ra gives people the awareness to know what is right and wrong. Those kids haven't been blessed with much awareness. But you were, Ruth. Today, you knew that bullying is wrong. That's a good thing."

My mother told me that Thin-Ra made many different species and types of people. And all of them should pray to him.

"Tonight, I will pray for your good well-being," she said. "Thin-Ra said, a shade is never seen with no light. The kids bullied you, which made you realize Ruth. Realization is a good thing; you found a light. I'm proud of you."

My mother told me that Thin-Ra had distributed his bricks in different places in Kias, our world. His bricks would talk to you, instruct you on something, or warn you. The bricks could say a part of a tale. Or a part of one's self. It was Thin-Ra, after all. The god. And he knew everything.

My mother taught me magic and religion. But never asked me to pray. She had told me that prayers were part of being a person. And one day, I would feel the need for them.

She told me that one day when I would be in need of Thin-Ra, I would be responded.

Her words and touch smoothed my mind and heart. And after an hour, I told her about the dream I had the night before. A dream I had for the first time. And I hesitated to tell her about it. But now, I felt I could.

"Deeeee…" I stopped. Then added, "Eem."

You are reading story The Grey Series [The progression fantasy of a chosen one] at novel35.com

"Dream?" my mother asked, and I nodded. She kissed my forehead and took her hand away from my eyes. She had daring, green eyes. She looked into my dark eyes. She loved the clarity of my dark eyes. She had told me that the darkness within my eyes was like a mirror, and whenever she saw herself in my eyes, she saw her feelings and her flaws mirrored back, and she would try to make a better person out of herself.

But this time. For some reason, she wasn't as focused on my eyes as usual. In fact, her smile trembled as she asked: "What did you dream about?"

My mother had always understood my words. She had never repeated a word after me to make sure. But now, she wanted to ensure that she understood correctly.

"A voice? You heard a voice?" my mother asked.

True, I had heard a voice. But. How did she know?

I nodded. Yes.

She stayed speechless, her green eyes wide open, almost in a trance.

My mother looked somewhere, somewhere in the air, somewhere I felt I wasn't able to reach. And then a tear formed in her eye. Her green hair dropped in front of her eyes as she looked down at me.

"Dearie," her voice crumbled and trembled. "Did the voice ask to take your body?"

I nodded instantly.

Yes, it did! The voice offered love and safety. A safe place I could never dream of, and promised that my mom was going to be with me.

And I was about to accept but had been awakened by my mother.

But now, when I nodded to my mom, I felt time freeze for a second. I saw my mother's tears slowly fall down my cheeks.

"It happened too soon," my mother muttered, her tears flowing down her cheeks. "It shouldn't appear through childhood."

My mother placed me gently on the ground and walked away quickly. I peeked around the couch to see her. She was beside the kitchen table shaking, with a knife in her hand.

Then, she looked at me, her eyes stable, unlike her tears as she called me in. I never questioned what my mother wanted to do. I had never asked any of her thoughts. My trust in her was overwhelming.

I walked to the side of the table.

"Dearie, extend your hand."

And I followed.

My mother grabbed my hand. And I slowly saw the knife bruising my palm.

I trembled for a second but stayed still. My blood flowed out, dark red in color, and my mother, with trembling eyes, dropped to her knees and grabbed my hand with trembling hands. She pulled my hand closer to her face. And with a deep breath, she sniffed my cut.

Then, looking into my eyes, her tears fell onto the cut. The stinging continued, but I couldn't talk. I was so stunned by my mother's face.

Her beautiful face was so ugly when she cried.

"I'm sorry, Ruth," my mother said, trembling. "I'm really sorry."

Then, she hugged me. I was ignorant. I knew nothing. I didn't understand what was happening or why.

I just looked at my hand from above her shoulder. And while she was hugging me, I pondered my own blood, curious about what my mother had smelled. I pulled my hand closer to my nose.

And sniffed.

I didn't understand what it smelled like. But for sure, it had a bad smell.

Of course, it is bad. Your mother abandoned you because of it.

A voice came from somewhere.

No.

I looked around; it was from everywhere. The house started shattering, and an intense light came from its cracks. And Before I could understand what was happening, the world around me changed.

I was alone, walking above an endless ocean as if it was glass. The breeze moved my hair. The blue sky had no clouds and was sunny, and the warmth caressed my skin.

I knew that behind this sunny world was the darkness my mother had always warned me about.

I recalled who I was and understood that, unlike the memories with my mother, what I was experiencing now, was not a dream.

I was ten, and now in this ocean world, the voice within talked to me.

I turned around to see the owner of the voice; my eyes trembled again. The voice within was a pile of moving threads, some white, some dark. And the pile had no eyes but had a hollow, white mouth that moved whenever it spoke.

Ruth, you are still wanting to see her? The one who left you behind? The voice within asked, his voice echoing around.

"What about it?" I asked.

My tongue was healthy in this ocean world, in my world.

Your mother told you not to listen to me. She told you to only trust yourself. She told you that both of you will venture the world together one day, but tell me, where is she now?

She was nowhere to be seen. I had spent the past two years following her instructions and training my mind, both in my house and in the cold backyard in the winter, waiting for her to come back.

But she didn't come back, and I wanted to venture into the world to see the monsters and the long waterfalls. To hear Thin-Ra's bricks along with her and to pray to Thin-Ra together…

And yes, she had told me to venture the world alone, but I couldn't picture myself without her, not even once.

Ruth, she told you not to befriend anyone, then she left you alone in a place she told you wasn't safe. People disappear in the forest. The witch is real, but nobody is chasing her out. It is like. It is like we are in a cage. A cage isolated from the world… and like you, I want to see the world, to see what you want to see… after all, we ar…

"No, we aren't," I intervened, my posture uptight, my hands gripped. I would never believe I was the same as a person my mother hated. "We aren't the same person. I'm good. You are bad."

Who told you that? Your lying mother? Ruth, I'm not you. I'm a part of you… I'm your desires. If you are cold, I'm hot, if you are white, I'm black, and together we are the warm Grey. I want what you really want, your deepest desires, the ones so deep you are scared to free… I want to go and venture the world to see it thoroughly, just like you.

I listened, stayed silent for a few seconds, then, with half-opened eyes, I said, "I won't give my body to you."

And I ended everything. The blue sky cracked again. And fell like glass into the ocean. The world crumbled and returned to its darkness.

And there, I slept until I heard a girl calling for me, and I found myself at the gates of a village… far from home.