《Voidborn》


 Chapter 1: Providence

    With one move of a foot onto a protruding rock, followed by a firm grip of a hand into a crack in the stone, Godwyn slowly made his way up the cliff. He was confident in his ability to climb this specific cliff as he had done it many times before, and there was no fear in his mind of the fall that awaited him should he slip. The rumours of foul beings within the darkness of the night were the only things that worried him much at all out in the woods ¨C but here there was no darkness, and it was far from nightfall yet.


    He heaved himself up over the edge with one last push, as he glanced up and managed to catch a glimpse of the view he had come for. As he sat down on the seat he had made of a nearby log he once more stared out in awe over the landscape that revealed itself to him. The forest of his part of the world turned to sandy cliffs and rocks beneath him and the cliffs and rocks turned to sand and the sand stretched out into a seemingly endless field of powdered rock. An ocean of sand lay before him.


    Sitting there, it was like staring out over a different world entirely, wonderfully contrasting anything of his homeland, yet it laid so close ¨C the two worlds, separated only by the cliff formation on which he sat.


    Something that had interested Godwyn for a long time is how, sometimes, new rock formations seemingly appeared and disappeared under the course of a few months, weeks, or even days. Though it must all be in his head, he thought.


    As he inspected the rocky border between the lands as he often did, he noticed that it seemed particularly insecure, as if it itself didn''t know where it was, or where it should be. One moment it seemed clearly placed out only for new landscapes of rock or forest to appear mere seconds later, as if they¡¯d always been there and always would be.


    All the comfort Godwyn had felt when he initially arrived here was now gone ¨C only dread and confusion remained.


    I must be going mad, he thought as he tried to wrap his mind around what was taking place before him.


    As his uneasiness grew, so did the sporadic nature of the betweenlands. His eyes shifted from new trees to rocks, and absence of parts of the forest that were much closer than he had ever seen the rockscape reach before, and he could now see the sands beyond growing closer ¨C shifting towards him. He stood up to brace for the inevitable arrival of this unending reconstruction, and what would happen when it reached the cliff he was standing on, he couldn¡¯t possibly know. He closed and covered his eyes as he couldn¡¯t bear taking in the paradoxical landscape before him.


    Suddenly, a great relief ¡ª as if some burden was lifted off his shoulders.


    He wanted to open his eyes to see the aftermath of what had happened, but as he tried he found that he could not. The darkness inside his head had turned to reality around him and he found that he had been entirely relieved of his physical presence.


    As he was drifting through nothingness ¡ª pure empty space ¡ª Godwyn could feel time losing its purpose. He couldn¡¯t tell if seconds, minutes, hours, days ¨C he didn¡¯t know if years had passed since he first fell into this void.


    In the emptiness he felt a growing presence of observation ¡ª as if something had been observing him for as long as he had been able to observe himself ¡ª not only his actions, but his feelings, opinions and the inner workings of his mind were all known to this entity. Godwyn didn¡¯t know whether to rejoice in this newfound presence or fear its judgement, but he knew that whatever it was, it was inevitable.


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    ¡°YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE¡°


    ¡°YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE¡°


    ¡°HOW DID YOU GET HERE?¡±


    The voice enveloped his mind completely as it echoed through his soul, although these weren¡¯t mere words, rather a more absolute form of communication ¨C a perfectly conveyed feeling and meaning inflicted right into his mind to convey precisely what was meant to be said.


    The voice was feminine in nature and was as mighty as it felt caring and kind. He found that there was a comforting tone in the voice despite its unknown and mysterious origin.


    ¡°OH, BELOVED MINE ¡ª BE NOT AFRAID, FOR I SHALL RETURN YOU TO THE WORLD WHERE YOU BELONG.¡°


    ¡°BE NOT AFRAID, FOR I SHALL GRANT YOU A NEW FORM.¡°


    ¡°BE NOT AFRAID, FOR YOU ARE SAFE WITHIN MY CARE ¡ª ALWAYS AND FOREVER.¡±


    Godwyn opened his eyes once more. He didn''t know what to expect, but it was not the beautiful forests of his homelands. This particular part of the forest, however, was unfamiliar to him. He stood up to orient himself and made note of an opening in the forest, not too far away from where he stood. He instinctively made for the opening as he struggled to process what had happened to him.


    The clothes he wore were not the same as the ones he had worn previously on the cliff ¡ª his old, tattered garments had been swapped out. Now he wore rudimentary, green tinted boots and pants, as well as a simple, brown shirt covered in a short cloak of green ¡ª all of it divinely comfortable. The cloak was simple, yet elegantly lined with a fine yellow which twinkled with specks of light as it moved, matching his boots and pants.


    He walked up to the clearing and looked out over the landscape outside the forest. The forest ended where he stood, and beyond it laid a vast, open landscape bearing hills as far as the eye could reach. He shifted his focus to the right, and saw a river flowing there. It had carved its path right through the landscape, splitting it in two, as an axe would through wood.


    As he stepped out of the forest he noticed that he was standing on a road. He followed it with his eyes to the left of him where he could see it slither into the forest and out of sight, and to the right it seemed to follow the forest edge for a bit, until reaching a small bridge crossing the river before continuing out of sight.


    The sun was setting over the hills, leaving darkness in its absence, and the realisation of Godwyn¡¯s situation started to set in, feeding the panic that had, until now, been overshadowed by his confusion.


    ¡°Who goes there?¡±


    It caught Godwyn by surprise, and yet it was a great relief to finally regain contact with another person. The voice was firm and masculine, and carried with it a great sense of strength.


    Godwyn turned to face the man, though he could barely see him through the darkness.


    ¡°You alright?¡± the man said ¡ª his voice hinting that the confusion was mutual between them.


    Godwyn walked towards the man in an effort to see him clearer.


    ¡°Would it be wrong to assume that you feel a bit disoriented?¡±


    ¡°Where am I?¡± Godwyn asked, betraying his inner panic.


    ¡°Where did you come from?¡± the man asked. ¡°These are practically wildlands. The nearest town is about fifteen kilometres down the road in that direction.¡± He pointed toward the part of the road behind Godwyn that reached a bridge.


    ¡°I come from Meadsbrey.¡±


    ¡°Meadsbrey?¡± the man said, confusion in his voice. ¡±Never heard o¡¯ no Meadsbrey.¡±

 Prologue

    The cold, dry morning air swept across Godwyn¡¯s face as he sat on the porch of his home, enjoying the quietness. He was thinking of his father ¡ª ¡±as long as you can find peace on your own, you need not worry about the others.¡± he had told him when he was younger. Those words had always stuck with him ¡ª filled him with a sense of comfort that at least he had understood Godwyn in a way no one else did. The thought also filled him with a sense of anger and frustration about how he had been taken from him. Why couldn¡¯t he have stayed with me he thought. Why must the gods be so unjust? What reasoning led them to take from me the only one I loved? The only one who loved me. It was his father who had chosen his name ¡ª ¡¯Godwyn¡¯: a proud name for a firstborn. His father had always kept high hopes for Godwyn, working hard to give him the best life he could, but alas he is now gone and neither the gods nor Godwyn were in any position to argue.


    Sounds from the house alerted him that he was no longer alone. He knew it was his sister who had woken up ¡ª she had come home the previous evening. He was reasonably certain she had found a mate somewhere in the village, leaving Godwyn to their mother.


    In the corner of his eye he saw the door to the house carefully swing open, Matilda lightly stepping past him, off the porch. He observed as she walked down the road toward the northern, wealthier, part of the village. She passed behind a corner of another house along the road and his line of vision was broken. He kept staring at the spot on the wall where he had lost vision of her, as he sat there ¡ª absorbing the silence.


    The sun was rising above the forest to his left ¡ª gradually chasing away the darkness as it, once more, brought safety to the lands. To Godwyn, however, it drove away the peace, the quiet of the early morning that he cherished so; brought with it only the waking of the people, a mass disturbance of the silent, peaceful solitude.


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    He watched people exit their homes, gathering water from the well, as he rose from his seat on the porch and entered the house through the door beside him. Inside, he found that his mother, predictably, had yet to leave her bed, but he thought nothing of it and proceeded to grab some of the bread his sister had brought the day before, leaving enough for his mother to eat, lest she starve, and left the house, back out through the door. Chewing on a bite of bread he marched down the path toward the Everwoods. Blinded by the sun over the trees ahead, he stepped past groups of young folk, about the same age as Godwyn. He received plenty of foul glances as he usually did ¡ª ignoring them as best he could.


    ¡±You fleein¡¯ out ¡¯o the forest again?¡± he heard someone shouting behind him.


    ¡±Goin¡¯ lookin¡¯ for your daddy?¡± another one added.


    Fucking demons, all of them, he thought ¡ª they didn¡¯t deserve his attention.


    Stepping into the woods he regained some of the comfort he had felt sitting on the porch, and the words of the others slowly drifted out of his mind. The forests here were tightly packed with growth and life, but sparse enough to navigate without much toll. A path had been carved out of the tightly packed, plant filled, mossy ground after all the hundreds of routinely walks along the same route ¨C between the same trees, past the same rocks.


    Strolling through the woods he felt a calming sense washing over him, filling him with renewed comfort, as the solitude of the forest engulfed him. He glanced around himself, saw little critters of the forest doing what they always do ¡ª a mouse making for its burrow with a piece of wild rootfruit, running to hide as if it had just pulled of the heist of its life; a birds nest full of hatchlings screaming their puny, vulnerable, little lungs out in effort to receive more food from their ever judgeful mother. A part of Godwyn longed for such a life as of the little forest critters: a simple life, without worry for anything but food and a place to hide. But alas, he was stuck in this painful, torturous existence filled with struggles and complexities for which he cared nought.


    The path came to a sudden stop by a cliff reaching up toward the blue sky, which had now been partly covered in dark, unpleasant clouds, and Godwyn began his climb.

 Chapter 2: Resurgence

    ¡±And then you woke up here?¡± the man asked, confusion in his voice, as the crackling fire lit up his face in an irregular pattern of splashing light. However faint the light was, it still managed to reveal the man''s vague cheekbones. Wymond was his name. He had revealed it on the way to the camp. Hints of his square jaw showed through the contour of his dark beard, his bushy eyebrows mercilessly laid shadow upon his forehead. Somehow, the stoicism of the man was betrayed even by the way he sat, opposite to Godwyn.


    ¡±There¡¯s another thing,¡± Godwyn added.


    ¡±What other thing?¡±


    ¡±In that darkness¡­ there was something¡­ someone.¡±


    Wymond lowered his eyebrows as he sat in silence, patiently waiting for Godwyn to continue.


    ¡±It talked to me¡­ but not exactly¡± he said. ¡±The words echoed through my mind but no voice was to be heard.¡±


    ¡±And what did this voice-without-a-voice feel like?¡± He leaned forward out of intrigue.


    ¡±It felt¡­ motherly,¡± he answered. The answer had come to him as clearly as the fire that burned beside them. It was instinctive, a thoughtless thought.


    ¡±Gods¡­¡± Wymond mumbled to himself. Breaking his apparent train of thought, he continued, ¡°Well, we better get you someplace to stay if you¡¯re not to be eaten out ¡®ere.¡±


    Godwyn silently agreed, as he continued to sit there, staring blankly into the fire, lost in an ocean of thoughts.


    ¡°You can stay here for the night, of course,¡± the man said with a great exhale as he stood up from his seat. ¡°I¡¯ll get another bedding for you, so you don¡¯t ¡®ave to lie on the ground.¡±


    Lying there in the pitch black darkness of the night, the only thing Godwyn could do was to seethe in the absurdness of his situation. But beyond all the fear and confusion there was still a sense of comfort resting on his shoulders, still managing to hold him onto the ground. It was the vast wilderness surrounding him and, in a sense, he now felt more connected with it than ever before.


    Waking up the next morning as the sun started to shine upon him, he felt surprisingly well rested for the miniscule amount of sleep he had managed to cram out of the night. As he sat up from the attempt of a bed he saw that Wymond was sitting on one of the logs around the fire, facing away from Godwyn, and seemed to be writing in a notebook of some kind. On his back Godwyn noticed a blade. It had been too dark for him to notice it the night before, but now he saw it clearly. It wasn¡¯t long, but wide and double sided, with one edge curving in towards the handle, opposite the guard. The thing seemed mechanical in some way, and he had certainly never seen or heard of any blade like it. From the pommel of the blade there hung a small chain that reached behind the man¡¯s right side.


    ¡°There¡¯re rations in that bag by the tent if you¡¯re feelin¡¯ hungry,¡± the man said, still faced away from him, and feeling like not having eaten for days, Godwyn reached for the bag without much thought. The tent itself was barely that ¨C more akin to a mildly large garment strung over a few rods, merely as an effort to keep their packing dry in the event of sudden rainfall. He pulled out what seemed like a stiff piece of bread, almost small enough to fit within the palm of his hand. As he was taking a bite out of the dense, dry bread he barely noticed Wymond walking over and sitting down beside him. ¡°One o¡¯ those¡¯ll feed a grown man for a day, you know,¡± he stated with great confidence as he grabbed one of the rations, wrapped it in a thin piece of cloth, and slid it in a side compartment of a small bag hanging from his belt.


    Wymond stood up and started packing up the tent, shoving it within another compartment of the bag where the rations were, before stringing the whole thing up on his shoulders. The bag had a clearly designated space between it and Wymond¡¯s lower back to leave room for the blade upon his back.


    ¡°Have you no horse?¡± Godwyn spoke in what he only realised after was an act of rudeness.


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    ¡°What need have I for a steed, if my business is on the road?¡± Wymond said nonchalantly, explicitly forgiving Godwyn¡¯s crude tone.


    Godwyn could now see that the chain from the blade on Wymond¡¯s back connected to a shackle on his right hand wrist, posing the question of if he could ever be separated from the blade should he even wish for it.


    They walked for a few hours along the road through the woods, Godwyn following Wymonds every step. After a long period of silence Wymond stopped ¨C Godwyn following his example directly after. A thin layer of mist had laid its grasp upon the woods around them. Wymond, still facing ahead, continued to stand there for a few seconds, before relieving the silence, ¡°stay close, and tell me if you see anyone.¡± There was none of his previous charm in his voice as he said this, and the way he said it was almost fear inducing compared to their previous interactions.


    Now on edge and not knowing what to think, Godwyn continued to follow the man in silence as he proceeded onward.


    The mist grew ever denser as they walked on through the deep woods. Godwyn could barely see the trees closest to them at this point, which filled him with a great sense of dread and paranoia. They were now following a path that had split from the road some few kilometres ago. Godwyn wasn¡¯t exactly sure of where Wymond was taking him, but he trusted that it would be somewhere he would be safe to orient himself in this strange part of the land. After all, Wymond had told him he would find him some place to stay, and it was clear that he had a place in mind.


    A gut wrenching scream of pure agony echoed through the surrounding forest as Wymond instinctively drew the blade from his back. As if someone being repeatedly stabbed with a serrated blade, before having all their intestines ripped out and laid beside them as they could do nothing but watch and scream in anguish for the pain and torment to stop. The voice seemed female of origin, but due to the echo, it was unclear to Godwyn which direction it came from. He glanced at Wymond some five metres ahead of him and saw that he was equally confused regarding the sound''s direction, as he glanced around them in a focused, attentive manner.


    ¡°Help!¡± the woman blurted out again. Godwyn could tell that the woman was of deteriorating health due to the voice¡¯s almost inhumane distortions.


    ¡°Gods please, please help me,¡± she proceeded. It was soul crushing to have to witness someone go through such pain. After stepping off the path he could hear that she was getting closer.


    ¡°No, leave it!¡± Wymond shouted towards him, just having noticed what Godwyn was doing as he hastily walked through the forest towards the screaming woman.


    He could see the violence taking place in his head without making an effort to imagine it, as he frantically looked around him for any sign of the woman, and just as he turned around, there she stood. She was some 15 metres away from him, slowly walking towards him with the strange, short stepped walk of someone clearly hurt. Her arms hung on either side of her body ¨C limp. As she grew closer the unsettling nature of this person grew clearer in his head. Her body proportions were off, as well as her movement. Her skin was an inorganic shade of grey and the closer she grew the more apparent it became that her face was distorted in an inhuman manner, and what Godwyn had at first thought to be hair was just the bulbous, oblong head of the thing.


    It stopped a mere five metres away from him before tilting its head back as an ensemble of spikes and limbs began to protrude out of its chest cavity that opened up akin to the sight of a fed upon carrion. As the creature lashed out towards him he could see Wymon in the corner of his eye, launching himself at the creature in a spinning motion, unleashing a flurry of attacks. It redirected its attention towards Wymond and launched sporadic counter attacks using its array of violent spikes and limbs, while also using a few of the limbs to support its new form off the ground.


    Godwyn stood frozen and watched as Wymond and the creature battled, the paralysing fear rendering him unable to move a muscle of his own accord.


    ¡°Godwyn, run!¡± Wymond shouted as he glimpsed that Godwyn was still standing where he stood. ¡°Back to the trail!¡±


    But Godwyn remained. He watched as the evils of this world tried to take his one and only hope of survival away from him.


    A lash of the creature forced Wymond into a collision with Godwyn where he stood.


    ¡°Fuck, Godwyn!¡± Wymond grunted as he tripped backwards, pushed Godwyn out of the way and spun around to land in a more recoverable position while the boy fell backwards with little resistance.


    As it approached Godwyn lying on the ground he felt a sudden switch inside his mind ¨C from terror, to an asserted dedication fueled by rage and resentment. You will die for that of what you are, he mumbled to himself as he felt a supporting force helping him up onto his feet, while the creature halted, hesitated for a second, and started backing off. Letting off an almost whimpering sound, it started waving its limbs around sporadically. The demon lifted off the ground as Godwyn felt the entire force of the action flowing through him, elevating it and banishing it from this realm in which no love for it resided ¨C only terror and resentment.