《Valrose》


 Chapter 1

    It was a hollow night. One where the sun would cower behind the dark starscape, forcing the moon to be the sole provider of the world¡¯s light. It was the time of day where the earth would be cold and devoid of heat, instilling a fear inside of every human. Whether natural or learned, what is unseen is always seen as the most twisted version of the truth. And in my sincerity¡ªnot my honesty¡ªI can say that I truly did not care.


    The hushed winds that weaved through the leaves of the scattered forest before me were just that: hushed winds. While most would jump at any noise within the night, I knew that the potential of the muted sounds that lay underneath the wind were the most dangerous of all. Even still, I pressed forward.


    My journey through the route within the woods was already reaching the upper limit of five hours for the day before anything of note happened. While my senses continued to observe the world around me, my mind could not help but replay that scene in my head. After all, how could it not? The temperature, the sounds, and even the feeling of the natural greenery around was all the same as it was back then¡ªalthough, the truth was that I couldn¡¯t have been further away from there.


    The crimson that pooled around the dirt floor and the fear of a thousand gods felt as real as the day it happened, even if that was twenty years ago. My, how time flew.


    Just as the fiery rage within my heart began to heat my body, my ears caught the slightest unusual noise. Snapping back to the reality in front of me, my body tensed and my eyes quickly darted from darkened tree to darkened tree. I allowed my focus to be fully centered at my immediate environment. With no hesitation, I reached back for my sword, which was strapped over my left shoulder.


    Time felt as though it had stood still, frozen in place. Nothing seemed to move. Nothing seemed to give. Nothing seemed to take. Still, I stood still and waited for either a sign of peace or conflict. I had been in such a situation too many times to count over the years. Even so, I took every encounter seriously¡ªsome would say too serious. The moment I let my guard down and I get slain before accomplishing my life¡¯s mission is the moment my soul would roam the earth, unsatisfied and broken.


    After about a minute of waiting, something sprang from the shrubbery. Quickly drawing my blade, I slashed at the oncoming threat. The sword hissed as it cut its way through the air with an immense and familiar speed. About halfway through the swing, the forged metal weapon collided with the threat.


    The furred creature that found itself at the end of the blade squealed as its body began to tear in two. Its flesh ripped cleanly apart and its tiny bones snapped with just the pressure of the blow. The only thing that remained was the blood that stuck to the end of my sword¡ªa familiar sight.


    After the encounter was over and the air had calmed back down, I looked down at my defeated foe. A small rabbit laid before me, torn asunder without restraint. It¡¯s funny, looking back at that moment, how only after I destroyed a life could I truly see it for what it was. Perhaps that¡¯s what happens in the dead of night¡­perhaps that¡¯s just how I always was.


    Without a moment more of hesitation, I continued to move forwards.


    Within a few more hours of tiring travel, I eventually found myself on top of a hill at the end of the woods, overlooking a massive clearing below. The grass that enveloped the plains glistened in the clear moonlight. The way it reflected that light showed off its brilliantly beautiful dull-green complexion.


    Most would see the color of all grass the same¡ªas did I in the moment¡ªbut in times of reflection after a change in one¡¯s self, I can truly appreciate the beauty that was spread out before me. The vast open space allowed an infinite potential for life. The wispy clouds above, which couldn¡¯t seem to contain the moon, would flow into thin shapes that seemed to change each time I recalled them. But most of all, the way the warm breeze passed over me gave me a sudden nostalgic inspiration¡ªone that I still carry with me, but for different reasons.


    In front of me, to the far south, at least a few days or so travel away, were the Carcernin Mountains. They wrapped along the upper edge of the land that bordered between the flatlands and the ocean. The mountains jutted up from the earth in a wicked and gnarly fashion, contrasting with the beauty of the land that led up to them. The way those jagged bundles of rock curled in the air seemed to be all but unnatural. While most mountains were majestic in nature, crowned with snow, the Carcernins looked like the fangs of a twisted beast. Just that thought alone made me sink into despair.


    Situated between myself and the mountains was the destination I was heading towards: the small town of Varunia. I knew almost nothing about the town except for its mere existence. As opposed to the rest of the cluttered, dying country, Varunia sat by itself and seemed to thrive all on its own. It was probably that sustainability and separation that allowed it not to yet succumb to the spreading illness of ruin that ravegend every other town.


    I then traveled through the dew-laced fields that encircled the town. Each step I took through there was damp with the clearest moisture. So much so, that I would accidently get my tight, hardened, leather boots stuck in the mud, all the way up to the vamp. Eventually, I managed to make it to the outer circle of houses that surrounded the town.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Without a wasted second, I then swiftly made my way through the cobblestone streets to the nearest inn. I kept my hood up and head down as I navigated my way through the thin nightly crowds that populated the streets. The faceless people within those crowds seemed lively enough, although I didn¡¯t really bother to look at nor interact with any of them. I simply continued on my own way.


    It took a little longer than I would¡¯ve liked, but I eventually stumbled upon a modest looking building, made of darker oak planks. The outside of it that faced the street was plastered with a few windows, but the sides that peered into alleyways were not¡ªit was perfect for me. The roof was made of a similar, albeit lighter wood than the exterior. Cobbled within some of the wood, like someone mimicked what it would be like to patch a wooden wall, was dull-gray stone. Resting atop the only door that I could see was a sign that was written in a language I was familiar with, reading: The Worried Way Inn.


    Stepping inside, I almost hit my head on the top of the door frame, which surprised me a little. I knew that I was taller than most, but even still, it seemed like whoever originally built that door did not understand that height could vary from person to person. Even so, I made my way through the rest of the door.


    The interior of the Worried Way was nothing spectacular. The floor creaked every few steps, the lights were dim, but lit enough to see, and the atmosphere didn¡¯t give me any unusual feelings. The interior walls had black-iron pipes that sprawled all throughout them, much like a metal spider web. I knew what those were for, and as I traced them back, I could see that most of them originated from a room that was labeled Boiler Room.


    On the other side of the room that I was in was a man seated at a desk. He was shorter and a bit stout, and had a constant grizzled look to his eyes. The entire middle of his head was bald and the sections of hair that he did have were graying and thin. While he did have some facial hair, most of it looked like unkempt stubble¡ªall except his voluminous sideburns.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± the man asked, his voice sharp and ragged.


    Sauntering up to the desk, I flatly replied, ¡°A room for the night and possibly more.¡±


    He looked me up and down, the eyes behind his small glasses narrowing the longer he stared. Finally, after a few moments, he responded, ¡°Is it for one night or more than one? I don¡¯t do this wishy-washy stuff.¡±


    I took a few seconds to count the coins in my pockets. ¡°We¡¯ll do three nights,¡± I eventually answered.


    The man then looked away from me, reached behind the desk, and pulled up a ledger of sorts. He then effortlessly flipped through the pages once, seemingly landing on the correct page. Pulling out a pen from behind his ear, he asked, ¡°And your name?¡±


    ¡°Does it matter?¡± I answered.


    He started to write, but stopped halfway through and looked up at me.


    ¡°Wait, are you a Slayer?¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± I replied, although a bit hesitantly. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I knew it,¡± the man bitterly answered. ¡°I can tell what kind of person you are just by lookin¡¯ at ya.¡± He then took a deep breath. ¡°I just don¡¯t want any trouble from your kind. I know what kinds of things follow you folks and I don¡¯t want any of it.¡± He then continued to write something in his notebook along with a few other things that I didn¡¯t bother to remember.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I''m not here on business like that,¡± I lied. ¡°I simply need a place to rest for a while.¡±


    The man looked at me with judgmental, squinting eyes, and then continued with what he was doing. After a moment, he folded up his ledger, put it back underneath the desk, and walked over towards the wall. Pulling out a ring of rusted keys, he unlocked a wooden box and grabbed a single key.


    ¡°Room Nineteen-B,¡± the man said, handing me the key.


    Wordlessly, I grabbed the key and made my way to my room. By the time I made it there, I could feel my bones beginning to cry out in restless agony. I didn¡¯t know how much longer I could keep up with the pain that I felt from such a long journey. For several weeks I traveled, averaging only a couple of hours of sleep a day. During the day, I would be without a creature to mount on¡ªno horse, no jihl, and no sholo-bird¡ªI just walked. I rarely got the opportunity to afford any of them.


    Right before I felt my own muscles give into the weight of the journey, I managed to find my room. The room itself was oddly comforting. It was dense, devoid of most things besides a bed, and heated to a mildly comfortable temperature. That being said, something about it was familiar and, for the first time in a long time, I felt calm.


    As I laid down on my bed, completely naked, I stared at the ceiling. To my suprise, it stared right back at me. Squarely affixed against the ceiling over me, about ten or so feet up, was a large mirror. It looked directly down at me and I could see most of the bed in its reflection.


    ¡°Strange,¡± I said out loud.


    While the entirety of the bed was in view, the one thing that I wished wasn¡¯t in view was the creature that was laying on it. He had long, dirty-blonde hair that tumbled just above his shoulders. His body was slender but rigid, marked by scars, burns, and other reminders of sins long passed. His face was extremely angular, not unlike that of an ancient elf. I hated the sight of him.


    In order to not see that horrid sight, I closed my eyes and let the darkness obscure my vision. I was tired of seeing the world around me. I was tired of the work I did for the day. I was tired of my own emotions, struggling to free themselves from the chains I wrapped them in. And most of all, I was tired of hearing the same thoughts echo around my head.

 Chapter 2

    Soon enough, the annoying light of another dreadful day bled through my barely closed eyelids. I began to stir, with each piece of my body waking up at different intervals. My mind was the first thing to start working, like always, and it immediately started thinking about how I despised the light of day. I always tended to find comfort in the darkness¡ªnot because it¡¯s what I prefer, but because it¡¯s when the righteous people rest. In the night, that¡¯s when those that I seek truly come out to play. Although I never have any intentions on playing the fruitless games they partake in, I still go out because those are the kinds of people that really know what goes on in the area.


    Still, the morning came and caused my body to groggily awaken. As I stretched, my limbs extended a few inches past their natural length, popping from the over-extension. I sighed a heavy sigh, accepting that the night was long gone. Finally, my eyes were the last thing to greet the new day.


    Slowly, I forced myself to sit up in my bed. I reached for the sword that I always keep next to me, sheathed it, and then stood up. I paced around the room for a few minutes in order to fully wake every ounce of my body up. The heat from the morning sun leaked through my small window. Normally that would make it easier to wake up, but for me, I preferred to stay cold.


    I then walked out of my room and towards the public streets of the town. It was the first time that I had traversed the town during the day. The bright nature of the sun¡¯s light recontextualized some of the surroundings that I briefly saw when I first arrived. The roads were stone-gray, but functional. Nothing about them seemed particularly extravagant nor offensive. Most of the buildings that were propped up along the streets were wooden in construction and slender in design¡ªwhich was probably intentional, seeing as the neighborhoods were way too compact. The closeness and friendly proximity of everything was unnerving and it made my skin crawl. And because of their tightnit design, very little greenery grew. There were the occasional potted plants hung on the window sills and the witheringly brown vines that looked as though their desperate attempts to live were in vain. Every instance of life that was growing outside of what was obviously placed by the townsfolk was uncared for. Everything seemed just the same as every other small town in the country.


    My destination was the market for multiple reasons. The first was to get just enough food to last myself for the time I was to be in the town. The second reason was to see if there were any miizabloom flowers for sale, or something similar¡ªI needed to stay awake during the night, and those are known for giving people an extra ounce of energy.


    As I strolled down those brightly dull roads of Varunia, I found myself slightly glancing at the walking inhabitants of the town. There was no discernible reason for me to care, but something about the simplicity of their actions drew my attention. Most of them would casually mingle about, talking of things that had no future relevance or impact on the world outside of their own. The conversation would dance around an obvious topic that was constantly alluded to, but never fully spoken of. It was like a child parading around a wall of swords, oblivious to the potential danger. Or perhaps they did know, but pretended to act in blissful ignorance. Either way, their voices would reach one another, but most of their faces would be obscured by the shadows of the hats that they wore, covering their eyes from the light of day.


    The boldest of people were those who wore the fewest articles of clothing. Their typically whitened smiles reflected the rays of the sun, constantly blinding those who looked in their general direction. Those who were like that usually flocked together in large groups of like-minded speakers. Their words were loud, proud, and like their mouths, blinding to all but themselves. However, when together, they would blind each other without a care in the world. In fact, one could argue that they preferred it that way¡ªfully aware of their actions and what they spoke, but indifferent to how they affected anyone but themselves. Perhaps not seeing the results of their actions was why they flocked together. If only they knew of the night, then what they say would have no merit to affect others.


    Even still, curiosity could only occupy my mind for a trivial amount of time. Soon enough I found myself on the central thoroughfare, Memory Lane, where the meddling of the city truly came to light. From each and every corner there were vendors of all sorts, peddling whatever they could in order to make a copper or two. Some of the salesmen were as malicious as a snake trying to sell its own oil, while others seemed to be somewhat more honest folk, marketing their harvest for the day. What truly caught me off guard when I sauntered through the market was the diversity of people. For what I assumed was a small town in the middle of nowhere, there was an unexpected amount of foreign faces. There were people whose bodies were slender and angular, like mine, but even more exaggerated, and some who were larger than I could ever be. All shades under the sun were casually seen talking between the pale ghosts that I thought mainly comprised the town¡¯s general population. The familiar sight of faked business laughter was prevalent throughout the place, temporarily bridging the gap between those on the inside and those on the outside. When I took all of that in, I understood how such a trivial town had survived on its own for so long: it didn¡¯t. It relied on those who were not from there to carry the burden of propping up anything beyond the bare essentials, and it was as plain to see as day.


    ¡°Excuse me, sir,¡± a peddler said, approaching me. ¡°May I interest you in some of our wares? They¡¯re new imports from the coast, and they¡¯re as popular as ever.¡±


    I stopped and slowly turned towards her, my dead-set eyes meeting her brightened, caricature-like ones.


    ¡°I have no need,¡± I responded. ¡°I already have the clothes on my back...and that is enough for me.¡±


    ¡°Well wouldn''t you want something a bit extra special,¡± she winked. ¡°Something that would give others a reason to think more highly of you.¡±


    I straightened my back, looking down on her as my shadow blocked off part of the sun. ¡°I don¡¯t care about what others think.¡±


    She took a step back, but not one in defeat, rather one that allowed her to more firmly plant her foot in the ground. Throwing her hands in a defensive manner, she jovially responded, ¡°My my, I¡¯m sorry¡ªI did not take you for the lone wolf.¡±


    ¡°Not by choice,¡± I lied. ¡°This world is cruel and tough, and that¡¯s why I have to defend myself. There¡¯s no point in having anything nice if it¡¯s just going to be soaked in blood.¡±


    Her demeanor changed from that of a typical, lively scammer, to one of hesitation and inquisitiveness. The eyes that were once wide and bright on her face turned narrow and judgmental when they landed on my sword.


    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± she plainly stated.


    Cracking my neck, I sighed. ¡°Took you long enough.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± she started, her voice carrying more disgust and tension to it, ¡°I hope you find what you¡¯re looking for¡­quickly.¡±


    I leaned in a bit closer to her. ¡°This would go by a lot quicker if you could point me in the direction of a flower cart.¡±


    She took a deep, sharp breath and stared at me for a moment. A man who had not lived outside his own walls would think that her pause was from the hesitation that came from intimidation. He would break his empowering guard, satisfied in a victory that he falsely thought he attained. I, on the other hand, kept firm and continued to stare back into her eyes. And as I did, I could see her face sink back, slowly. Eventually, her hardened exterior cracked a bit, and she quickly glanced to her left before snapping her sight back at me, continuing her eye contact.


    I pulled back and began to turn to my right. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said to the saleswomen as I continued to walk away. Just as I made my way out earshot of her, I heard her swear under breath.


    It took me a few minutes of strained observation, but eventually my gaze landed on a shoddy-looking cart with one broken wheel. The wood of this cart was worn and weathered, obviously having seen better days. Sitting on its slanted top were flora of different kinds¡ªsome sitting in chipped vases and others left to sit, exposed to the elements. However, the one that seemed unlike all the others was the black and purple rose-like flower that was kept inside a musty glass cube. Holding said container was a rather large man, sagging with every inch of skin, and it was obvious that the drooping was not caused by age. His face was mostly obscured by the incredibly wild beard that hung past the horizon of the cart¡¯s top. His eyes were not yet focused on me, but rather on the same rose that I took an interest in.


    As I approached, my shadow casted some unwanted shade on the open, yet covered man, causing him to subtly jump and look up at me.


    ¡°Well,¡± he laughed, ¡°what do we have here?¡±


    ¡°A customer,¡± I replied.


    ¡°I see that, but I also see much more than that.¡± His exaggerated movements were flubbery but oddly controlled. I could tell that he was a man that knew what he wanted. ¡°You aren¡¯t like the rest of the riff raff that don clothes as dirty as you. From one man to another, I know a determined face when I see it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m ecstatic to hear that,¡± I said with a deadpan expression.


    ¡°Woah there buddy, no need to get so excited.¡± He then chuckled and relaxed his expression. ¡°Listen, I can see you¡¯re a man of business, so I ain¡¯t gonna do all this theatrical crap. What do you need?¡±


    As he asked that, I saw him slowly lower the rose and glass container behind the counter with his off-hand.


    ¡°Well, I came for miizabloom,¡± I said, ¡°but I¡¯m curious about that plant that you have down there.¡±


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Stroking his beard, I saw his demeanor shift ever so slightly for just a second. It was so quick that I couldn''t tell what kind of expression it was; all I knew was that it was different.


    ¡°Ah, this,¡± he replied, bringing the encased rose back up to the cart. ¡°This is a rather special item. I¡¯ve had it for a long time.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t be too special if you haven¡¯t been able to sell it.¡±


    The man gave a hearty laugh, one surrounded by flem and weather. ¡°Well, that¡¯s because nobody really uses them anymore.¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± I asked, partially curious, since I have never seen something like it. ¡°What is it?¡±


    The man furled his eyebrow for a second, giving me an inquisitive look. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you don¡¯t know what this is¡ªit¡¯s part of our town¡¯s history.¡± He then looked all around me: at my feet, at my chest, and behind me. He looked everywhere but my eyes. ¡°Well, I guess someone from outta town might not know. This¡­¡± he said, gently patting the glass case, ¡°...is a valrose.¡±


    ¡°What makes it special? It looks like an ordinary rose to me, just colored a bit different. Is it rare?¡±


    ¡°Uh, nowadays they are,¡± he replied, bobbing his head from side to side, ¡°but it hadn¡¯t always been that way.¡± He then leaned closer, like an old man about to retell a story of years long passed. ¡°They say these things were used back in the day to catch monsters and murderers alike.¡±


    ¡°Monsters?¡± I quickly followed up. ¡°And they used a flower?¡±


    ¡°Not in the way that you think,¡± he replied. ¡°Apparently it reacts to people marked by evil, whatever that means. It only blooms for the darkest souls.¡±


    ¡°Seems like some imaginary magic, much like the kind that the scholars to the west believe in.¡±


    ¡°They really do believe in that crap, huh?¡± he laughed. ¡°But yeah, these things were used so often in trials, and when looking for monsters, that we damn near ran out.¡±


    ¡°So why aren¡¯t they used anymore? If they¡¯re so incredible, like every other resource in this god-forsaken country, they would¡¯ve been used until the supply ran dry.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± he hesitated, ¡°like I said, there ain¡¯t a whole lotta ¡®em left. And besides, there aren¡¯t really any good uses for ¡®em anymore¡ªtimes are peaceful.¡± He then twiddled a few stray hairs in his beard.


    ¡°That may be true for here¡­¡± I replied, my thoughts lingering in the air. Shaking myself back from my thoughts of the past, I continued. ¡°But anyway, I¡¯m not interested in fake flowers. I just need some energy-giving flora.¡±


    ¡°Aw c¡¯mon,¡± he playfully pleaded, ¡°at least give it a try.¡±


    I looked at him for a solid four seconds or so, trying to get a gauge on what he was after, who he was, and why he was acting the way he did.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I sighed.


    With just a smile, the man slowly opened the case at an angle, facing himself. As he did, the air cooled down, almost to the point where it was as cold as my heart. When it was finally half-opened, he looked down at it and then back up to me.


    Keeping his smile, he announced, ¡°See? Isn¡¯t that something?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re talking about how it did nothing, then yes I did see it,¡± I disappointingly responded.


    ¡°Well, nothing happened because it¡¯s facing me,¡± he snapped back, wagging a finger.


    ¡°So? Are you claiming that you¡¯re some kind of holy man?¡±


    He rolled his eyes. ¡°Nah, not in the slightest. But,¡± he admitted, ¡°I¡¯ve never killed a man.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see.¡±


    The man then closed the case and asked, ¡°Well, I can see you¡¯re not interested in that. So what can I get you?¡±


    I paused for a few moments. I shouldn''t have cared about a rose that was most likely a con by a sleazy salesman, but for some reason my mind wouldn¡¯t let it rest. There were many times before I spoke up again that I tried to move the conversation in a different direction. However, the words that my lips formed were only ¡°valrose¡± and nothing else. My fists eventually curled up in annoyed anger and I let out a defeated sigh.


    ¡°Open the case, again,¡± I hesitantly demanded.


    ¡°What was that?¡± he asked, his face slightly cracking into a smile.


    ¡°I want you to open the case again, and this time face it towards me.¡±


    And like I demanded, he began to lift the glass up, fully exposing the flower that had been long sheltered from the outside. As the clear, discolored, and slightly cracked cover was completely removed, the light of the day immediately surrounded the flower, giving it a new color. The darkened shade of purple that popped out of the abyssal black was now overshadowed by the lightened tones that the sun¡¯s rays forcibly accentuated. I didn''t know why, but for some reason, at that moment, I wished I would have beheld its beauty for the first time during the night. In the daylight, it seemed like a cheap copy of what it truly was. There was a subtle, unseen beauty to it that was all but gone when viewed by the bright world.


    The valrose, in its unveiled form, began to shift. Now that there was nothing between me and the flower, I finally found myself curiously enraptured by it. There was some sort of deeper and darker connection that I felt from it. And apparently it felt the same, for it started to bloom and unravel in my direction. Its pettily limbs stretched out towards me, both in desperation and in companionship.


    ¡°I guess it does work,¡± I mindlessly commented, still staring at it. The words came out more like whispers, barely escaping through nearly shut teeth and limp lips.


    ¡°So what about it, Slayer?¡± the man asked. ¡°You think it¡¯ll be of use to ya?¡±


    I instinctively reached into the hidden pocket within the inner lining of my coat. Pulling out a few coins¡ªsome silver, some copper¡ªI looked back up at the man.


    ¡°How much?¡± I asked.


    Stretching his beard a bit, he replied, ¡°Two sils and a cop.¡±


    Even though there should''ve been more hesitation from me, something about that flower made me yearn for it. I wanted it more than anything. I didn¡¯t care what it cost me at the time, nor did I think about it¡ªI simply handed the man the money.


    The moment after I paid the price, I shook my head. With my mind starting to calibrate again, I asked, ¡°Wait, how am I to keep this alive? If it¡¯s dead, it can¡¯t be of use.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the real interestin¡¯ thing,¡± he responded, not looking at me while he just continued to scoop my money into his collection, ¡°they don¡¯t die.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked, a bit confused. ¡°All living things die. In fact, they have to die.¡±


    He then shook his pouch of coins, put it back under the cart, and finally looked back up at me.


    ¡°Well, maybe I should rephrase that,¡± he agreed. ¡°They can survive any harsh environment or any sort of mistreatment. Honestly, the only time they wither and die is when they are given any sort of care. They can go a whole lifetime on their own, but the moment they¡¯re tended to, they die.¡±


    ¡°Interesting,¡± I began to comment. ¡°It''s a shame that there aren¡¯t many more.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I tend to agree with ya¡­¡± His thoughts trailed off. ¡°But I have a feeling that if they¡¯re ever needed, they¡¯ll somehow find a way to spread again¡ªthey always do.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re right,¡± I agreed, placing the valrose in my front coat pocket. ¡°I¡¯ll put this to good use.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you will.¡±


    I then nodded my head as a farewell gesture and continued on my way. I walked and made minimal talk to the rest of the townsfolk. I only interacted with those who seemed useful or knowledgeable¡ªpeople with insight into the inner workings of the town or bakers, seeing as bread was the cheapest and most flavorful food that I brought with me on journeys. With the newly acquired flower on my person, for some reason, my passion that I set out on my decades-long journey for began to flare back up. It¡¯s not that I ever forgot it, but it was an end that I was struggling to find a means to, and in that pursuit, I often lost myself in those means. Even though it was just a flower, it meant much more to me. It fueled me, it gave me motivation, and it relieved me. In reflection, however, I can also say that it blinded me.


    Eventually, I managed to overhear a conversation with an older farm lady who was casually talking to a meat vendor about an unusual problem she was having with her stock. Normally I wouldn¡¯t pay any mind to the stupid problems of the averge person. Even though I was a Slayer, I didn¡¯t care about helping others with their problems. Not unless I needed money, that is. However, the way she described her issue caught my attention. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was fate¡ªsince I don¡¯t believe in such a thing¡ªor my newly-found heightened attentiveness, but I was lucky enough to overhear that part of the conversation.


    ¡°What was the issue, again?¡± I asked, apparating like a phantom¡¯s shadow.


    Both the lady and the vendor jumped in surprise. The vendor was the first to recover from my sudden appearance.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± they said to me with a look of repulse. ¡°We don¡¯t need help from someone like you. We can take care of things in our town by ourselves.¡±


    ¡°Oh nonsense,¡± the lady interrupted, her voice more firm and full of more conviction than I was expecting from such a frail-looking creature. ¡°The council hasn¡¯t been any help¡ªthey seem to think they¡¯re too good for the common folk anymore¡ªand no one has bothered to listen to me.¡±


    ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± the vendor started to exhaustingly say.


    ¡°Oh, hush,¡± she interetuped them. Turning her attention back towards me, she asked, ¡°Would you be willing to help?¡±


    ¡°Well, I heard something about a bite mark, is that correct?¡± I asked, just to be sure.


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± she somewhat excitedly began to tell me. Her eyes lit up, her voice grew quicker, and her wrinkly face couldn¡¯t help but garner a large smile. ¡°Every once and a while I find strange bite marks on the pigs in the corpse pit¡ª¡±


    ¡°See?¡± the vendor said. ¡°She¡¯s worrying about dead livestock.¡±


    ¡°I said hush,¡± she retorted with even more sternness in her voice.


    The vendor then rolled their eyes and started working on cutting up some meat into strips.


    ¡°Now,¡± she continued, ¡°what I was saying is that I will occasionally find these strange bite marks on the bodies of my already dead pigs. There¡¯s no pattern to when it happens, but when it does, it happens at night and it scares me a bit. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s causing it.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s not just wild animals looking for a meal?¡± I pushed back on her.


    ¡°No, because the bodies are left as they were. It¡¯s like something just took a bite and left. And this happens every time.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°People think I¡¯m crazy for fretting over something like this, but I¡¯m terrified of what it could be. Please, Slayer, won¡¯t you help a poor old woman like me out? That¡¯s what you people claim to do, right?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I replied, ¡°lead the way.¡±

 Chapter 3

    In the darkened, blue, dull world before me, I sat still. The earthend spot from where I always stayed was shaped in my image, but it became more uncomfortable to sit in with each passing night. For nearly a week I had routinely watched over the pitiful farm¡ªnot because I cared for the pleas of that woman, but because I wanted to follow my first lead in over a year.


    She often talked about how her pig corpses would occasionally end up with strange bite marks. Although it was a stretch to think that it was from what I was searching for, I had to take the chance. Because if I found him, no matter how slim of a shot it might have been, all the years of suffering as a Slayer would finally be worth it. My life¡¯s goal would finally be accomplished¡­but I had that thought every time I found a lead. And every time I would be disappointed.


    When I first set out on that ¡°adventure¡± of sorts, I was but a young child, traumatized by the image of his massacred parents. I despised the idea of doing that very thing in order to stay alive, but I was too good at it. It was too easy. But soon enough, to both my benefit and detriment, I grew numb to it. The only people that were left in the world that cared about my actions were those on the outside¡ªand they just hated my very presence. People saw what I did as no different than that of what the creatures of the night do, and to some extent they weren¡¯t wrong. Slayers are people who dedicate their lives to the thrill of adventure, slaying monsters and evil men alike¡ªheroes by definition, but not by society.


    I would say ¡°we¡± when describing Slayers, but their way of life was only a means to an end for me, not the center of my life. Nevertheless, I was technically one of them, and so the scornful lens that the world viewed them with was also used for me. Slayers were always seen for what they represent and not for what they actually do. Even though what they do saves many lives and protects the interests of the very world, that reality does not matter to the dull, average person. They only see the image of one as an omen for bad things to come, not as a sign of insurance against an imminent threat.


    As I sat in the dirt, my back pressed against the side of a rotten barn, I let half of my consciousness reflect on the path that brought me to where I was. I thought of the faces of my parents, no matter how blank they had become in my memory, hoping to salvage something of worth. Over the many years of isolated journeying, the flames that once ignited from the mere thought of them dwindled to nothing more than a charcoaling ember. On nights like that night, I often desperately try to force the heat within my heart to burn like it used to, fearing that I might lose all direction if I didn¡¯t.


    Just as I began to lose myself with my own mind, the other half of my consciousness picked up on something. Both halves of myself quickly forced themselves together, and I brought the entirety of my being to the present. I focused everything in on the environment around me, hoping to find the cause of the initial disturbance.


    Looking around, I saw nothing out of the ordinary. The fresh, blue-white moonlight cascaded visibility to everything within the vicinity, and none of it seemed strange. The drooping trees of the forest that surrounded the northern edge of the small farm swayed with their normal, dredging energy. The newly planted crops were still in place, and the ground around them was just as untilled and disturbed as it had been. The only thing unchecked was the livestock corpse pile that laid just beyond the ridgeline.


    Slowly and quietly, I got to my feet. I rubbed the valrose that was in my front jacket pocket, sheathed my sword¡ªseeing as the way it reflected the moonlight would give away my location¡ªand began prowling over towards the pit.


    Each footstep of mine was careful, silent, and dark. I would say that I was extremely intentional while I walked, but the truth was that the movements were second nature to me. Stealthy, I crested beyond the entry of the woods. The air around me began to stir ever so slightly, and the breeze warmed up.


    Within a few minutes, I was at the edge of the pig trench. The foul odor filled the atmosphere around it, muting that sense, entirely. Most people who had never worked in such an environment would surely pass out, but unfortunately I was both used to the stench from inspecting it every night and from the fact that I had slewn creatures fouler than that.


    Just as I approached the edge, before looking down, I calmed myself. For the first time in a long time I felt nervous. Leads, in and of themselves were rare to find, nevertheless one that had a possibility of truly leading me towards him. I let my heart rate stabilize, my hands still, and let my breathing regulate once again. I then glanced down.


    And I saw him.


    Towards the bottom of the ten-foot or so hole was a vaguely humanoid shape. It was hunched over what I presumed to be a pig carcase, their back turned towards me. I was certain that it had not noticed my presence. I could not believe it. The anger that I thought I had lost a long time ago began to boil once more. My muscles flexed, my teeth gritted, and my eyes became bloodshot. My entire body was steaming with fury and hateful passion. The only thing that felt cold was the wind.


    Even though the small, rational side of my brain screamed at me not to do it, I unsheathed my sword. My mind was begging me to think of the possibilities and scenarios in which the shape that I saw before was not who I thought it was, but I couldn¡¯t. The darkness of the night made it impossible for me to see anything but what I wanted to. Just as the valrose began to unfurl, with the silence of a hawk, I leapt down into the pit.


    I plummeted downwards, my blade slicing through the gloomy air¡ªmy trajectory was directly above the figure. Time itself seemed much colder and slower as I descended. Every thought that I could have been thinking was forgotten in favor of the present. That being said, every frozen ounce of my person instantly thawed out the moment I came within a foot of the figure¡¯s neck. My body¡¯s temperature rose and I swung my sword with a strength that I had never felt before.


    My vision blacked out from the strike, and when I came to, the image I was met with was one that I was not expecting: I was staring at dirt and rotten flesh. Hastily, I drew up my blade next to me and feverishly looked around. About six feet away from me stood the same figure, seemingly completely unharmed. Now that I was in closer proximity to them, I got a better look of who they were. Covering most of their body was a loose-flowing cloak that blended in nicely with night, although its hood was now pushed off of the figure¡¯s head.


    The figure was a man of relatively young appearance¡ªaround my age¡ªalthough his features suggested a slight bit of adolescence to him. His eyes were just as bloodshot as mine and quivering just as much. However, there seemed to be more fear in them than anger. His hair was exceptionally curly and long. If it wasn¡¯t for their curl, it would certainly cover his entire face. Its color, on the other hand, was hard to pinpoint. Because all colors were drowned out in the night, I couldn¡¯t tell exactly, but I knew it was certainly darker than mine. The one thing that stuck out the most to me, however, was the crimson trail that trickled from his mouth. And in that mouth, I clearly saw two fanged teeth.


    ¡°You!¡± I yelled out to him. ¡°I finally found you after all these years.¡±


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    The man just looked at me with the same intensity that I stared at him with.


    ¡°Do you know how long I have waited for this?¡± I continued. ¡°How much I have sacrificed? How much you took from me?¡±


    His eyes then narrowed, his head slightly cocked to the side, and he took a step backwards. I took a step forward.


    ¡°Your time is up,¡± I firmly stated.


    And with that, I charged towards him, my feet mutilating the carcasses underneath my feet. Every step I took was uneven and sloshy. I could hear the hollowed out bones below me break, snapping with the slightest touch. The organs¡ªat least the ones that hadn¡¯t been devoured by maggots and other such animals¡ªpopped out of every body. But I did not care.


    Just as I was within range, I brought my sword down towards the fanged man. With a surprising quickness, he managed to slip to the side, dodging my strike, altogether. Carrying that momentum, I turned my blade and took a side-slash at him. Again, he managed to evade, this time lowering himself below my attack. Again and again I sliced my sword through the air, intent on cleaving him in two¡ªit must¡¯ve been over two-dozen strikes within a few seconds. And again and again he managed to avoid ever getting hit. The agility on display from him was almost supernatural. While he was a lithe creature, his body still did not give off the impression that he had such swiftness to his movements. Because of that, the only things my weapon ever found purchase on were the bodies below me and the stone wall of the pit.


    Using the brief window of opportunity afforded to him when my blade got stuck within the wall, he immediately attempted to scurry up the pit. With all the anger, frustration, and might that I could gather, I pulled the sword free. Using that same energy, I took one final slash at him. My steel vengeance cut through the icy-cold wind like the claws of a silent devil, and this time, it managed to sink into its victim.


    ¡°Ahgh!¡± I heard the fanged man grunt as my sword carved a decent-sized wound on his back.


    However, using the same inhuman dexterity that was displayed during the altercation, he effortlessly climbed to the top of the hole. Just as he moved beyond the point of visibility, he took one last look at me. The way his warm, yellow-tinted eyes looked down at me and my frigid-blue eyes, surrounded by a pile of corpses, irritated me to no end.


    The moment he got out of my sight, I yelled out, ¡°Don¡¯t you run away from me! I will kill you if it¡¯s the last thing I do!¡±


    Feverishly, I began to try and climb out of the hole I found myself in, but I kept slipping. I only had one hand available to grab the stone walls and pull myself up¡ªthe other one held my blood-tipped sword. I could¡¯ve gotten up much quicker if I let go of that sword¡ªhell, even if I just sheathed it¡ªbut something inside of my burning heart refused to let go of it. And so, I struggled to move even an inch past the floor. Minutes went by, the wind began to cool my body, and eventually I climbed out of that pit, sword sheathed and all.


    By the time I managed to pull myself out of there, the fanged man was nowhere in sight. Still, that didn¡¯t stop me from running around the perimeter of the area, like a chicken with its head chopped off, panickedly searching for anything.


    I let him go, I thought. I let him go. I let him go. I let him go.


    Trees began to blend together, swirling around in my crazed vision. I began to sweat and breathe frantically. I couldn''t cope with the fact that I let go of the one thing that I had been searching for my entire life. I had him in the palm of my hand, and yet he slipped away. It felt like everything that I had ever worked for was suddenly ripped from me. The madness began to turn into sorrow, which turned to anger, then it transformed itself back into sorror, finally completing the cycle with a feeling of emptiness. And that cycle continued to play over and over, exaggerating my desperate nature. In fact, I was so desperate that I almost didn¡¯t see the old farm lady appear in front of me.


    ¡°I heard you scream,¡± she said, wobbling like everything else in the world.


    I pressed my hand against the nearest tree and let the world regain some semblance of balance.


    ¡°I lost him,¡± I absentmindedly replied.


    ¡°Lost who?¡± she asked. ¡°Did you find out what was doing that to my pigs? Tell me I¡¯m not crazy. Tell me it was some sort of¡ª¡±


    I slammed my fist against the trunk, silencing her and partially cracking the outer bark. I felt my composure begin to realign to what I was used to. I allowed my mind to find itself amid the chaos, and through that pounding against the tree, the last bit of hatred that was stuck inside of me was released.


    Taking a deep breath, I coldly said, ¡°It was a monster.¡±


    Gasping, she replied, ¡°What kind of monster?¡±


    My fists clenched up and my teeth grinded against each other, causing my next few words to come through more piercingly. ¡°A fanged man.¡±


    Her face instantly went pale. ¡°Are you serious?¡± she inquired, her expression more than aghast.


    ¡°Why would I lie about this?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± she said, her breath skipping a few beats ¡°did you kill it?¡±


    ¡°No¡­it got away.¡±


    Her expression shifted from one of worry and frailness, to one of confusion and slight annoyance. ¡°What do you mean?¡± she asked, her voice carrying a sharper tone and intonation.


    ¡°I mean,¡± I started to respond, solemnly looking down on her in the eyes, ¡°that it got away. I failed to kill it.¡±


    Her lips curled downwards and her eyebrows furled. She then walked up to me and slapped me across the face.


    ¡°How could you let it go?¡± she huffed. ¡°You¡¯re a Slayer, all you¡¯re good at is killing. I don¡¯t like you, but I figured you could at least do this.¡±


    Her attitude unmasked her sense of self-righteousness and importance. Both of those were things I despised above most other things.


    ¡°You really are nothing but trouble,¡± she continued. ¡°How could you screw up this job?¡±


    ¡°Job?¡± I replied, lifting my chin up. ¡°I don¡¯t recall getting paid.¡±


    ¡°Why would I pay someone like you? You should be grateful that I gave you the opportunity to help me. That¡¯s what your people are all about, right?¡±


    I sighed the longest sigh I had ever released. I then pushed myself off of the tree I was leaning against and started to make my way out of the forest.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this,¡± I stated.


    Throwing her arms in the air, the entitled farm lady shouted at me. ¡°Where are you going? You have to stay here and protect me,¡± she demanded.


    Still carrying on, my back now turned towards her, I replied, ¡°I don¡¯t have to do anything.¡±


    ¡°But what if comes back and attacks me?¡±


    I stopped in my tracks and looked back over my shoulders. ¡°That¡¯s not my problem,¡± I replied. ¡°Unfortunately, though, I can assure you that it won¡¯t come back. At least not here.¡±


    I then continued onwards into the dead of night.

 Chapter 4

    ¡°Drink! Drink! Drink!¡± I heard those neanderthals continually shout, almost like clockwork. In fact, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they really did do that at certain intervals. They always were so loud, irritating, and obnoxious at that hour, sitting in the same seats and telling the same jokes.


    I, on the other hand, made acquaintance with the dimly lit wooden wall behind the bar counter. I didn¡¯t have to interact with anyone, seeing as no one ever sat next to me, and it gave me something to look at that wasn¡¯t slobbering with every other word.


    The room around me was dingy, rustic, and heavily used by familiar feet. The light from the chandelier above gave off a hesitant yellow glow, cascading many unsure shadows. The wood moaned and creaked with every step, but it was hard to tell if it was in agony or in comfort. Although for some patrons, it always sounded the same.


    Beside the occasional lenient splashes of ¡°color¡± that sporadically painted the tavern walls, there was nothing to view besides the drunkards that danced around. And that was of no interest to me. That is why I decided to sit and stare at the embodiment of boredom.


    ¡°Another one?¡± the bartender asked, motioning towards my mug.


    He was a slender man with a nicely trimmed beard that was cut short against his skin. The vest that he wore was presentable, but if someone were to look at it a bit closer and for a long enough period of time, they would see the years of wear and tear that was subtly covered up all around it.


    ¡°Sure,¡± I replied with a deep exhale.


    I then effortlessly tossed a coin in his general direction. I didn¡¯t bother to look at where exactly he was, nor if my money made it to him¡ªI didn¡¯t care about either. My thoughts were only that of my mistake and inaptitude.


    If it wasn¡¯t for that, I thought, I wouldn¡¯t have to endure all that I am.


    Taverns were painful for me, but still, it¡¯s where the true colors of a town come to light. In the night, it¡¯s the only chance I had at finding any other possible lead.


    ¡°You know,¡± the bartender started to say, sliding my now half-full cup towards me, ¡°you¡¯ve been here for the past two nights. There¡¯s a reason why no one is by you: you don¡¯t fit in here.¡±


    ¡°So?¡± I swirled my mug.


    The bartender then scratched his beard and leaned an elbow on the table. ¡°You make a lot of the customers uncomfortable. Anyone is looking for a chance to get you out.¡±


    Taking a drink of my ale, I replied, ¡°I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s my problem.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying,¡± he responded, standing back up, ¡°you better watch how much you drink. One slip up and the owner won¡¯t hesitate to throw you out. It doesn''t matter who you are, she¡¯ll manhandle you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? Well, she¡¯s never taken me on,¡± I countered, placing my hand on the bar for stabilization. ¡°Piss off.¡±


    With that, the man left me alone with my thoughts. And like every other night in that odor-filled, overcrowded room, I continued to look dead ahead of me. My mind glazed over a new layer with each added drink¡­and it took a lot to feel anything noticeable.


    Why am I even here? I asked myself. I should¡¯ve gone back there and stood watch for a few more nights.


    I took a drink.


    But why bother? He''s not going to show up again. He¡¯s probably long gone. Hell, he¡¯s probably out of the damn town.


    The front door bells chimed and a breeze of a warm night¡¯s air gusted through the space.


    ¡°Ayyyyyy!¡± a few of the drunkards shouted.


    ¡°Oi, Hunter,¡± one of them called out, his voice ragged and torn, ¡°where have ya been? It¡¯s been a few days.¡±


    ¡°Well, you know,¡± the voice who I assumed belonged to Hunter started to say, ¡°I had to sit home to recover a bit. I got in a tussle with this brooding fella¡ªyou know how it is.¡±


    His voice was softer, but it bounced around the room, inadvertently making it the one voice that always stood out among the crowd. There was an equal amount of whimsy and cockiness when he talked.


    Oh good, another regulator, I sickeningly sighed. Will I ever find peace in this stupid shack?


    ¡°Oh really now?¡± another voice said, this one being more slimy and meek.


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Hunter responded. ¡°I really showed him who¡¯s boss. He didn¡¯t stand a chance.¡±


    The rugged voice jumped back in, saying, ¡°I¡¯m sure you did. Is dat why I can still see da tail between ya legs?¡±


    The vicinity around where I heard those voices burst into laughter. I continued to sip at my drink, deliberating about myself, within myself. The vague shadows of the people reflected off my wall every once and a while whenever the lights from the chandeliers swung in a certain direction. For once, it seemed like those shadows were taller than me, looming over my space. While I wouldn''t admit it at the time, the very idea of my own person getting dwarfed by those who I felt disdain for sank me lower into my own mind¡¯s abyss.


    I always told myself that I would get through my life, with a single goal in mind, without caving to the irrationality of emotions. But time and time again, I found myself succumbing to the allure of hate. It was too easy to not fall for. It was so convenient to always have that feeling by my side, always ready to be weaponized. That was something I had to deal with since the very start of my journey.


    A few glass and wooden objects fell to the ground, all while that sound of some jovial scuffling ran overtop of that noise.


    ¡°Hahaha,¡± the rugged voice laughed, ¡°a classic Hunter show, everyone! How does he balance on dees wobblin¡¯ tables?¡±


    Hunter replied, ¡°Oh please, it¡¯s because I¡¯m incredible.¡± I could hear his shit-eating grin.


    ¡°Catch this!¡± the meek voice called out.


    ¡°And this!¡± another voice added.


    ¡°An¡¯ this!¡± the rugged voice interjected.


    All of those annoying voices erupted in cheers. The way the roaring yells ebbed and flowed reminded me of time I had almost forgotten. Back when I was just starting off as a Slayer¡ªjust mere months after the family¡¯s demise¡ªI found myself seeking refuge within a small coastal village. That village was, for lack of a better phrase, humble, traditional, coastal, and inviting. The sky was always an emerald-orange color in my recollection, and the sea was a lavender-blue. To blend in nicely with that natural canvas, the town¡¯s buildings were mainly made of gray stone and corral.


    The people who made it, ran it, and kept it the pristine, unknown gem that it was, welcomed me with open arms. They never asked any questions of who I was. Even when seeing the trail of blood that followed me wherever I went, they simply chose to wash it off of me by submerging me in the ocean that they all shared.


    I lived there for a few years, finally enabling my cold exterior to open up to the warm breeze of people that sheltered me without compensation. Fortunately for me, they didn¡¯t have enough time to truly crack me open, entirely.


    One day, as the night grew darker than ever before and the winds of the wicked water grew colder, abominations from the sea rose up, killing the townsfolk for no apparent reason. They were monsters through and through, simply murdering becuase it was their nature. That being said, they became corpses before I even realized they had heads. Thinking back, that must''ve been the first time I truly gave into my own heart¡¯s anger. My unbridled hate for what they were allowed me to slaughter and massacre all of them without a shred of remorse. But it wasn¡¯t satisfying.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, one foot, huh?¡± the rugged voice antagonized.


    ¡°Yeah! And catch more things!¡± another voice tried to add on, her voice sloppy and borderline incoherent.


    ¡°Nah, make him do something else,¡± the meek voice suggested.


    ¡°Take your clothes off!¡± the sloppy voice quickly, almost suspiciously so, suggested.


    ¡°Yeah!!!¡± the rugged voice cheered. ¡°How you gonna do that wit jus¡¯ a foot on da ground?¡±


    One after another, I recalled how my feet pounded the ground as I tirelessly traveled the world in search of something. I never really felt what it was like to rest. I never got any reprieve¡ªthe world always found a way to try and knock me down. But still, I kept moving on, adopting the way of the Slayer to fund my adventure towards my one true goal.


    Most people would use their experiences with monstrous creatures to validate their hatred for them, but for me, I never really felt that way. Well, not anymore, at least. I¡¯m sure there was a time in my life where I felt empathy for those who were just as affected by those creatures as much I had been, but after killing so many of them for survival, I must''ve grown cold to it. Those creatures are just a part of nature, just like humans, and in my opinion, they aren¡¯t any worse. The difference only lies within the subtly. That was always my experience. It was just much easier to slash at an obvious threat, like a dragon or a raging bramblebear, than it was to have to meticulously abide by the constructs of human society¡ªthings they invented just to protect themselves. Monsters attack, humans scheme, but they both thrive off of the death of the less fortunate and the weak. It was something I noticed, but not something that concerned me. I needed only one thing in my life: my revenge. I was convinced that doing that would finally fill the hole in my heart that was punctured when I was covered in my parents¡¯ blood.


    ¡°AYYY!¡± the room erupted in praise. ¡°He did it!¡±


    ¡°Damn, Hunter, what¡¯s wit the big scar on ye back?¡± the rugged voice asked.


    ¡°I told you,¡± Hunter began to counter, although in a prideful fashion, ¡°I got in a scrap with a mean fella. But don¡¯t worry, I showed him a thing or two.¡±


    The meek voice then jumped into the conversation. ¡°And so you got a scar on your back? A true sign of a warrior who faces things head on!¡±


    ¡°I think that¡¯s mighty brave of you,¡± the sloppy voice tried to add on. ¡°It looks good to me.¡±


    The rugged voice then boomed even louder than before, something that I was painfully unaware that it could do. ¡°Well, if you''re that courageous and heroic, then we gotta have a toast for ye!¡±


    There were then a couple of other voices that seemed to reciprocate that energy, but it was hard for me to really tell what exactly they said. It was hard enough for me to even focus on myself and my wall with all of that racket.


    ¡°For our shining hero and the mightiest warrior in all of Varunia!¡± the rugged voice announced.


    The room filled with an equal amount of laughter, excitement, and anticipation¡ªthings that the atmosphere itself seemed to be accustomed to.


    ¡°Screw you,¡± Hunter chuckled.


    The booming, ragged voice filled the entirety of the room. ¡°Let¡¯s give him the Hero¡¯s Toast!¡±


    Everyone started pounding on the tables, on the walls, and on anything that didn¡¯t break. The rhythm was one giant pound, followed by two quicker bangs. They all sang, as discordant as it may be, this tune:


    ¡°We raise our cups to the night


    To give us courage and might


    With blood of ale in our veins


    May this song be what remains¡±


    I started to think about what it really meant to be a hero. I knew, even in my slightly intoxicated form, that I was nothing of the sort. Heroes are people who willingly put themselves before danger in order to ensure that the threat doesn¡¯t reach those who can¡¯t take it on. It¡¯s a foolish thing to do. Every person who deludes themselves into thinking that they are a knight in shining armor, chosen to be the protector of the weak, is always killed before even the local dairy farmer knows their name. The fantasy of adventure and saving the world is something that, ironically, the most unqualified people believe in. If someone is sane enough to have such ideas in their head, then they are not cut out to be whatever they envisioned.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Those who truly embodied the visage of insanity and power were the only ones cut out to be Slayers. From my experience, there were three kinds of people who managed to survive in the field. The first were those with single-minded goals¡ªsomething they wished to accomplish above all else¡ªwho used the job as a means to an end. Another group were those addicted to the highs of battle and adventure, and were crazy enough to do whatever it took to feel it. Finally, the rest simply did what they did for coin and other such rewards. Regardless of the motive, in every case, they understood that throwing away their morals¡ªthe one thing that limits humanity¡ªwas the only way to survive in such a world. There''s a reason why righteousness is found only within the day. At night, when the most twisted images appear and all perceptions are challenged, that¡¯s when reality finally takes hold. That¡¯s why anyone who understood that worked within the night¡­within the veil of darkness that shrouded all they did from the world and from themselves.


    ¡°A toast to Hunter, may he die


    In brothers¡¯ arms where he lie


    And if the morn¡¯ comes to be


    We¡¯ll all sing his memory!¡±


    And that thought led me to reflect on where I was at the time. For some reason, it hadn¡¯t really set in what I was doing. The wall in front of me seemed to warp and twist into the memory of a few nights ago. The yellow tint of the room¡¯s lights encircled itself, staring back at me like his eyes. I went to take a drink of my ale as an excuse to cover my gaze, but before I knew it, I was already out of alcohol. And so, I was forced to confront the vision before me.


    I saw the pile of animal corpses below me, and I felt them beneath my feet. In front of me stood a smiling image of all that I loathed. With fangs that exaggerated beyond the mouth and eyes of electrifying yellow, the fanged man continued to stare me down. My breathing grew more intense, my veins swelled, and I bore my own teeth at him. He taunted me and I accepted the gesture, charging with all my soul towards him.


    I heard the clap of thunder and the gust of rain blow all around me. With each swing of my sword, the splash of dozens of raindrops cascaded from the blade as it sliced through the dampened air. I felt faster and more powerful than ever before, but it wasn¡¯t good enough.


    The fanged man continued to laugh at me and prod me with gestures. Each time I would go to make an attack, he would already find a way to move out of my range. Every. Single. Time. Slash after slash after slash after slash, no matter what I did, he always found a way to get further away from me. I could do nothing.


    And then it happened.


    I found myself surrounded, not by the calming blue of rain, but by a world of red. It was deeper than blood could ever be and it saturated everything that was around me. The only thing that remained its original color was the valrose.


    For some reason, in that crimson world, I managed to hit him. Just as he was running away from me, I managed to finally land a strike on him, cleaving a piece of his back. The cut ran deep, and the blood that poured from it was purple and black. Those colors then mixed with my world, clouding my vision, completely¡ªthe only thing that I could see was the wound that I inflicted.


    Suddenly, a spark of realization zapped through my head, causing my entire body to jolt up and out of my stool. The world had returned to the present, but the feelings and the storm remained. I looked down at my empty cup and then at my leather-strapped boots, breathing heavily but rhythmically. I continued to do that until my thoughts managed to sort themselves out, and when they did, my eyes widened.


    Slowly, I lifted my head up and turned around. Just as I managed to look behind me, I saw a sight that I did not believe. The confusion brought me to a point where I continually made up reasons as to why what I saw was not what it seemed. After all, it was night, and nothing is what it seems at night. But there was no way it wasn¡¯t.


    Standing atop a table, surrounded by the patrons of the tavern, was a yellow-eyed younger man, laughing and drinking.


    I just stared at him. I have no idea how long I did, but I continued to do it. Eventually, for some reason or another, he looked back at me. His own eyes betrayed him the moment they landed on me, and the way they opened up was all the confirmation that I needed.


    Instinctually, I reached back for my sword, but found nothing. I had almost forgotten that I was forced to leave it outside in order to come in. Flustered, confused, angry, and slightly crazed, I shook my head and yelled. With a primal roar, I immediately charged at the man.


    I barreled through multiple passersby who didn¡¯t even have time to react before I knocked them to the ground. The sound of the wooden furniture that I bashed through rang in my ear like a war drum, drowning out all other sounds. My sight was solely focused on my goal, as it always had been in my life, and his eyes were still locked onto me.


    Just as I made it to the fanged man, I licked my lips and planted my feet. Using the momentum from my run, I leaped through the air, colliding with the wide-eyed figure. The rickety table overturned and we were both thrown to the ground, with me on top.


    The muffled sounds of cheering briefly filled my red-filtered ears, but my entire being was focused on the struggling creature beneath me. My knees pinned his legs to the ground and both of my arms were clenched around his throat. I used the weight of my strength, hatred, and position to choke the life out of him. I could see his electric eyes turn into a more fragile, dandelion-yellow color as the panic seemed to set in. And there was no hesitation from me.


    However, in a flash quicker than I could follow, he managed to slip his legs out from under my pin and swing them above me. They wrapped around my upper torso, locking themselves into place. With a speedy flourish, he twisted his body around, flipping me to the ground¡ªhe managed to completely turn me over.


    I brought my fists up in a defensive manner to counter whatever barrage of attacks he was going to release...but none came. I felt a weight suddenly lift off of me, accompanied by a flash of movement. It took me a few moments to realize what was going on, but when I did, I saw nothing but a shoddy-looking ceiling above. I then swung my legs and, using the strength of my inner core muscles, jumped to my feet.


    My eyes crazily darted all around the tavern, trying to look past the stumbling, cheering faces of the animals that made up the crowd that had gathered around me. But I could not find him. With the sharpness of a dagger, my breath staggered and cut through the small gaps within my teeth. Each movement of air was hotter than the last. Each twitch of my predatory eyes was more bloodshot than before. Each wild vein on my body was flowing faster than it had been. Every system within me was stressed beyond mad, looking for him.


    Then I heard a clattering sound to my left. My body instantly twisted in that direction just in time to see Hunter breaking out of a rowdy bunch of people that were grabbing at him and pulling him in my direction. His slippery movements allowed him to escape their grasp, but not my sight. With a crack of my neck, I sprinted at him¡ªhe was not going to escape me for a third time.


    Just as he managed to disconnect himself from the last person, I managed to get within a foot of him. Continuing my charge forward, I wrapped my arms around him, using all the strength my crazed body could muster. I wasn¡¯t going to let go unless my arms were sliced off.


    Forward. I couldn¡¯t see where I was going, seeing as the body of the fanged man obscured my vision, but I just let my legs pound the ground and push forwards. Nothing stopped my rampage. Not the tables I slammed him into. Not the people that I let his back plow over. Not even the dozens of cuts and bruises my legs got from the broken barstools and table. The thing that finally stopped me was¡­myself.


    CRASH


    Through the main window, both of our bodies smashed through it and tumbled onto the gray, rain-soddened stone street. The cold, razor-like wind that carried the tears of the heavens swirled around me as I lay on the ground. Despite the arctic temperatures, my body was still warm. Not nearly as warm as it was within the building, but hot enough for me to disregard the rain. I wouldn¡¯t let the natural sensations of the world cool me down¡­at least not yet.


    I pressed one hand of mine on the ground in an attempt to prop myself up. It sank into a tiny puddle that half of my body was submerged in. As my body lifted out of it and my face pulled away, I saw the visage of a monster. Staring at me from the other side of the reflection were eyes as blue as the ice-filled glaciers of the Grand North, surrounded by a once white sclera, now bursting with crimson hate. The face I saw was twisted and matted with hair that almost seemed to strangle the humanity out of it.


    I couldn''t bear to see it anymore, and so, I averted my gaze, instead choosing to look at the only other body around me. A few yards away was a man starting to groggily sit up from the back-lying position that he was in. I matched and surpassed the speed in which he was getting up with, even if that caused most of my joints to pop.


    Before he got a chance to make any more movements, I looked behind me, towards the tavern. I could see the shattered mess of a window that I caused, the trail of broken wood that was left in my wake, and the faces of the ever-judgemental people that stared at me, both in disgust and anticipation. But more importantly than that, just to the right of that sight, next to the entrance of the tavern was exactly what I was looking for: my sword.


    With quick, ravenous movement, I picked it up and stood, towering over the fanged man. I looked down on him, and for the first time, I truly got a good, long look at him. In the dark, dreary rain, partially illuminated and shadowed by the light that was bleeding out of the tavern, I saw exactly what I wanted to see. Below me was the face from that night: a face accompanied by two fangs, barely jutting out of the mouth. The fanged man¡¯s scraggly hair covered most of the rest of his face, making it hard to see anything but those fangs, but that was more than enough for me.


    Pointing my blade just inches from his neck, I huffed, ¡°There¡¯s nowhere left for you to run. This is it for you.¡±


    His arms were propped up behind him, allowing him to barely sit up. Barely blinking awake, his eyes finally opened and looked at me with a duller yellow color than I was expecting.


    ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± he asked, his voice slightly whimpering. ¡°I have no idea who you are.¡±


    I pressed the blade right up against him, causing a slight trickle of red to flow down his neck.


    ¡°Do you really kill so many people that you can¡¯t recognize the face of one of your victims?¡± I gritted my teeth. ¡°It¡¯s been so many years since you killed my family, but I will never forget the pain I felt.¡±


    ¡°Woah, woah, hold on,¡± he started to plead. His voice suddenly shifted to a higher, more honest pitch, and his words started to speed out of his mouth. ¡°I ain¡¯t ever killed someone¡ªI think you got the wrong guy.¡±


    ¡°Lies!¡± I yelled back.


    ¡°No no no no, I¡¯m serious, I¡¯m sure of it.¡±


    I moved my blade from his neck and up towards his mouth. I then used it to open his lips, revealing the entirety of his teeth.


    ¡°And I¡¯m quite sure that I have the right guy,¡± I responded, only looking at his mouth. ¡°These fangs are all the proof I need.¡±


    ¡°Fangs¡­¡±his voice lingered. I then saw his tongue feel around his mouth, followed up with him softly saying, ¡°Fuck.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. Now, prepare for my blade, monster.¡±


    I moved the blade back towards me, grabbing it with my other hand and pulling it behind me. Just as I was about to thrust it forwards, I heard him speak.


    ¡°Just because I have fangs, doesn¡¯t mean it was me,¡± he said, although there was regret in his words.


    I held off for a second.


    ¡°How not?¡± I asked, tired of talking.


    ¡°Because I¡¯m not the only fanged person, dumbass,¡± he sassed me.


    I loosened my grip and stance, and asked, ¡°There¡¯s more of you?¡±


    His eyes faltered for just a second, and his breath hesitated before he spoke again. ¡°Yeah,¡± he began to answer, ¡°but I don¡¯t think any of them did it either.¡±


    ¡°And why¡¯s that?¡± I prodded, my body relaxing just a touch¡­something I later realized he immediately clocked.


    ¡°Because¡­¡± he started to say but not before kicking himself to his feet.


    In my moment of weakness that my questioning afforded him, I let him stand on equal footing with me. Furious, I ceased any future conversations and launched my blade straight towards him. Like a lance, I aimed to pierce his scrawny chest. Unfortunately, however, he was on his feet. And like a dancer, he swerved around my strike, his toes gliding over the slicked ground.


    I then brought the sword back to me and raised it above my head. Flexing my arms and back, I brought it down with a lightning-like force. As it missed him, it collided with the stone road with a thunderous crash, sparking in the rain. I felt my own long hair tossed with the storm that was now picking up, but that didn¡¯t stop me from taking another swing at him.


    Each swipe of mine was heavier than the last, and I felt the weight of the rain pushing down on me. After every attack, he managed to put a little more distance between us. It seemed impossible.


    How was he effortlessly gliding over the water-slicked street? I asked myself. How is it that my feet keep slipping? What¡¯s the difference?


    Tired of the tango that we were engaging in, I charged straight for him, trying to close the distance that he created. I brought my sword to the side and prepared to cut that man in half. However, just as I got close to him, a sobering calmness washed over me as my eyes got the most honest look at his face that I ever had. The light from the moon above managed to penetrate the howling storm in that instance, brightening his face with a white glow.


    There was a teenage tenderness to it that I never noticed. I saw every smooth curve that rounded it, surrounded it, and that defined him. There was a rebellious innocence to his eyes that wasn¡¯t there when his fangs were out. It took the breath out of me, and in my mind, just for second, a feeling of nostalgia that I thought was long-lost filled me.


    In that second of hesitation, he parried my strike, knocking my sword to the side. The weight of that steel weapon pulled me in its direction, causing my feet to lose its grip with the ground. And down I fell, my face splashing against one of the numerous puddles.


    ¡°Not again!¡± I screamed into the water.


    As I lay there, I heard the slowly quieting splashes of steps move away from me, until they were no more. Slowly I stood back up, my hair matted to my face. I pushed those sopped strings away from my eyes. As I did, I found myself surrounded by a few of the patrons. Most of them looked down at me with expressions that I was all too familiar with.


    ¡°Whatjya doin¡¯ tryin¡¯ to go afta Hunter wit dat sword?¡± a bulbous man asked, his voice rough and rugged.


    ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s gotten into you, Slayer?¡± a slimy voice added, this one belonging to a slender gentleman.


    ¡°Typical Slayer,¡± a hiccupping female added, ¡°bringing nothing but death and destruction.¡±


    ¡°We ain¡¯t gonna have it!¡± the giant man shouted.


    The rest of the crowd followed suit, slowly surrounding my head with words of hate, anger, and verbal violence. I let those nonsensical sounds enter one ear and leave through the other. The only thing I focused on was the fury that still raged through my heart.


    Without thinking, I yelled back at them. ¡°¡®What¡¯s gotten into me!?¡¯¡± I mocked. ¡°Why am I going after your friend?! Because he¡¯s a monster!¡±


    The voices slightly quieted down and their eyes looked at me in confusion.


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± I continued in my fiery passion, ¡°you were harboring a fanged man among you. I fought him once before in a pile of corpses¡ªI saw him for what he truly is.¡±


    I stomped the ground and felt a rush of emotions flourish out of me.


    ¡°So don¡¯t look at me with those eyes¡ªthe eyes that only see what they want to. I¡¯m tired of you all looking at me and what I do with such contempt¡­contempt against the only person who can truly see in the night!¡±


    Thunder boomed and a flash of lighting sparked across the area, lighting up everything, except for myself. My shadow towered over every one of them as they sank further into the warm interior of the tavern¡ªthe only thing that they found comfort in. They couldn''t bear to stand out in the darkness with me any longer.


    ¡°Now if you¡¯ll excuse me,¡± I said, ¡°I have some justice to enact.¡±

 Chapter 5

    I stood there, shrouded by the mist of the storm. Above me, the sky cried and bellowed out the winds of despair, encapsulating the sense of the lightless night before me. With every breath that I took, my own moisture escaped my mouth and added to the unseeable air in front of my eyes, clouding my sight. But I didn¡¯t need to see¡­at least that¡¯s what I told myself.


    After a few moments, I gathered my cold, steel-plated hatred and stared down the barren alleyway next to me. Based on how the fanged man¡¯s feet moved, I figured that he had to have run down there¡ªit was the only way he could¡¯ve evaded me in such a short time. And so, I took my first frigid step in that direction.


    With every simple step, the sound of disturbed water echoed down the hollow halls between the buildings, adding a gray sound to the already depressed stone walls. Rhythmically, I paced my approach and flexed my senses in order to observe every single detail around me. I focused every ounce of my being into tracking my prey. My eyes were heightened like a hawk, keeping point every speck of recently moved dust that betrayed his stealth. My tongue was forked like a snake in order to taste the fear that crept around every corner. My breathing was as silent as the night that surrounded me, blending in with and becoming one with it. Finally, my heart went still¡ªit was beating for no one, not even myself.


    Through the several twisting turns of the trash-filled narrows, I saw a couple of stray cats look at me with a manufactured expression of intimidation, but one that broke down the moment my deadly glance met theirs, causing them to cower behind whatever they could. There were a few small doves that hopped and pecked along the ground, and while they normally would fly away when something approached them, the moment I got near, something kept them frozen to the ground, locking up their wings against their bodies. Effortlessly, I lurked past them, furiously rubbing the valrose in my front jacket pocket.


    Eventually, I found that my natural instincts had led me to a particular building. It was humble, shoddy, and crooked in nature. Its wooden exterior was damp with rain and stained with the weather of years gone by. The sign above the door was detached from one chain, dangling by another at an angle. There was no light that escaped the front two windows, almost leading me to believe that the place was long abandoned. However, something about it called out to me, forcing me to constantly pay attention to it. My vision tinted ever so red, and the droplets of blue heaven turned into beads of bloody hell as they passed before my eyes. My hair was stuck against my cheeks, stained with the color of the rain. I know that if I saw my own face, I would surely mistake it for the very things that I hunt.


    I sauntered up to the front door, dragging my sword behind me, causing it to spark with the same eccentric energy that the sky was warring with. It scraped against the man-made pavement, barely sliding by the watery grease that covered the surface, occasionally dipping into the shallow pools that gathered within the imperfect divots. The wind continued to blow against me, getting stronger with every footstep I took towards that door, as if the world itself was trying to force me back from my own destiny¡ªit wanted me away from something that I had sought after for so many years. No amount of outside resistance could stop me. It could only, barely, slow me down.


    I opened the door. The hinges ached with a low-pitch moan when I forced them to swing to the side. The inside was darkened, but not devoid of life. Just as I completely consumed the doorframe, lighting flashed behind me, illuminating the immediate space in front me. I saw a few scattered tables and chairs, not thrown about, but rather moved towards the walls in order to make a central path to walk on. They seemed like they were rarely in use, but not useless.


    Another flash, this one stronger than the last, lit up the very back of the room. Standing, leaning against the back wall, was a man. With the light fading, his glistening, brown skin began to blend in with the darkness that surrounded him. In those brief moments of clarity, I saw that his arms were folded, with one hand holding a book of sorts in it. Most of his facial features, however, were buried beneath the wide-brimmed, curled hat that he wore, which was conveniently facing downwards as he continued to read whatever was on the pages of his leather-bound book.


    He didn''t seem to react nor move with my entrance. Instead, he seemed to puff some sort of smoke out of his mouth and paid no attention to me. With a long, drawn out, and animalistic sigh, I began to approach him. Every hardened movement that I made shook off more of the rain, causing it to snake behind me, marking the path that I just took. With the limited light, one could even mistake those trails for blood, especially if they knew that they were connected to me.


    ¡°Where is he?¡± I forcefully asked, my voice rougher than the sharpest grains of sand.


    I walked up to him, towering a whole head and shoulder over him. My posture was hunched, wicked, and twisted, much like my mental state. My breathing got more intense the longer I lingered in silence without a reply.


    Blowing out a short puff of smoke from his mouth¡ªalthough I still didn¡¯t see him smoking anything¡ªnot looking at me, he replied, ¡°I¡¯m gonna need ya to be a bit more specific.¡±


    There was an unwavering, calming confidence to his voice. It was hard to tell if his relaxed nature was from his stoicism, his lack of awareness of who was conversing with, his disinterest, his experience with people like me, or some combination of all the above. No matter what the answer was, I didn¡¯t care.


    Slamming my free hand on the wall next to his head, I opened my unhinged mouth, and said, ¡°The fanged man¡ªthe monster you harbor here.¡±


    My mouth began to slightly drool.


    Lightning flashed, thunder clapped, and the air began to vibrate. And then he looked back up at me. His eyes pierced into me, far beyond the surface and into the essence of who I was, matching and even exceeding my body¡¯s beasital insanity¡ªalthough his was a silent madness that said more than words ever could.


    ¡°I harbor no monsters here, just people,¡± he solemnly stated.


    It was at that moment that he seemed miles taller than me. His shadow nearly snuffed out the pitiful embers that dared burn within my heart. My body shrunk further down, causing my back and spine to arch closer to the ground.


    ¡°Lies! I can smell him!¡± I desperately countered. ¡°I can sense him. Now tell me what I need to know.¡±


    While his focus never shifted off of me, his eyes did glance downwards towards my jacket pocket. It was a brief moment, one that I barely caught in my crazed state, but it happened nonetheless.


    ¡°What kinda hatred burdens you so much that you would wear such a thing?¡± he asked, his body language slightly more inquisitive, and strangely, empathetic.


    ¡°A kind of hatred that you couldn¡¯t even imagine!¡± I spat. ¡°I¡¯ve suffered for so many years. You wouldn¡¯t understand.¡±


    Instantly, he responded, ¡°You¡¯re right, I wouldn¡¯t.¡±


    It was less than a second, but I felt a small part of me freeze in place. I wasn¡¯t sure why or what it even meant.


    ¡°Because,¡± he continued, ¡°I don¡¯t even know who you are. So why don¡¯t we start there?¡±


    In a fit of blind fury, I raised my sword up to him. My muscles were more tense than any iron cable. I felt steam radiate from my chest, nearly burning a hole right through my heart.


    ¡°How can you not tell?!¡± I screamed. ¡°Do you not see this sword? Do you not see the scars of my past? Do you not see my pain?¡± My breath grew faster and faster. ¡°Do you not see the crimson rivers that always follow me? I¡¯m a Slayer. That is who I am. So why don¡¯t you just¡ª¡±


    I didn¡¯t ask what you did,¡± he softly, yet forcefully interrupted, causing me to, for some reason, obey the silence. ¡°I asked who you are. I don¡¯t even know your name.¡±


    Stunned. Every part of me was stunned in place. There was a shock that locked up my mind, my body, and even my emotions. It wasn¡¯t a cold stun, nor was it a warm one¡ªit was something more profound than temperature could ever describe.


    ¡°I¡­¡± was all I could respond with.


    As if he already knew my answer, he followed up, saying, ¡°Why don¡¯t I start? I am Bram, the owner of this home. What is your name?¡±


    A calming light began to filter into the room, peeking in from the windows that encompassed it. It wasn¡¯t enough to see clearly, but it was a start. In fact, in that moment, I heard nothing of the storm that was raging mere seconds ago. The only thing I heard was the warm, gentle sound of the wind, pushing the drizzling rain across the glass.


    ¡°Sebastian,¡± I answered.


    My back straightened and I took a step back.


    ¡°Now that¡¯s better,¡± Bram said, taking his hat off and hanging on the hook to his left.


    His black, tumbling hair was freed from its containment, now flowing down a little past his shoulders. The color was accentuated by the acute darkness, slightly highlighted by the minuscule light. They curled at the ends and had a sliver of gray peppered in them. There was age there, but a kind of age that was like a fine wine.


    I took a few seconds to try and gather the emotions that began to faintly bounce around my mind. There was still a fiery rage that burned within me, but I felt like I had to fight to maintain it at its current size¡ªand that¡¯s precisely what I did.


    I gritted my teeth, cracked my neck, and inflated my chest. I took staggered, heavy breaths in order to stoke the flames in my heart¡­in order to keep that part of me alive, no matter how much it started to die.


    ¡°Why does it matter who I am?¡± I asked, seething with semi-manufactured rage. ¡°It never has and it never will.¡±


    ¡°Not yet,¡± Bram responded, ¡°but it will.¡±


    He then broke eye contact with me, shifting his gaze towards the whip directly to his right. It was coiled up on a hook similar to the one he placed his hat on. The majority of it didn¡¯t seem any different than any other whipping weapons that I¡¯ve seen in the past. However, when looking at the end of it, there was a metal point affixed to it, giving off a slight red-gray glow. To the ordinary eye, it would look no different than misforged steel, but to me, I knew exactly what it was made of.


    ¡°I just don''t want you to lose yourself down that path¡±, he continued, still looking at his whip.


    ¡°I chose my path a long time ago,¡± I retorted. ¡°I¡¯ve already made my choice.¡±


    Bram then turned his attention back towards me, his eyes rigidly soft, like they were looking at a memory.


    ¡°It¡¯s never too late to make a choice.¡± He then sighed. ¡°But that¡¯s not for me to decide.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. Now tell me where he is,¡± I pressed, although a bit apprehensively.


    ¡°Who, exactly?¡± He inquired, not breaking eye contact.


    ¡°The fanged¡­¡± I hesitated. I squinted my eyes, trying to look deep into the weathered, hardened, and somewhat familiar eyes of Bram. At that moment, they almost looked like an aged and refined reflection of my own. ¡°Hunter,¡± I continued. ¡°Where¡¯s Hunter?¡±


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Wordlessly, he pointed his thumb directly above us. Continuing the sound of silence, I nodded, and began to walk away. Just as my back turned away from him, a slight, chilling breeze made its way down my spine, causing me to freeze for half of a second. Something in the pit of my stomach unsettled me. Something within that cold void in my heart became slightly restless. Perhaps it was the nerves of being so close to what I¡¯ve been searching for. Perhaps it was the feeling of joyful anticipation. Or maybe, just maybe, it was something else entirely. No matter the answer, I didn¡¯t have time to ponder it any further, because before I realized it, I was already at the top of the tilted, spiraling stairs. Directly ahead of me was a door that had a slight amount of light bleeding through the bottom.


    I took a few lurching steps forward and just stood there, my breath colliding with the door. I just listened to the muffled conversation coming from the other side.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± a voice said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    A few seconds of silence passed, followed by a muffled sniff and some other pitiful sounds.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, mother, I let you down,¡± the voice continued to cry. ¡°I gave in and went out during the day. It¡¯s my fault. It¡¯s my fault. It¡¯s my fault.¡±


    I knew for certain who that voice belonged to. This was it. He was right behind that door. There was nowhere left for him to run. A frigid excitement shook me to my core, rendering my feet stuck to the ground. I couldn¡¯t believe it, but I knew that it was all going to come to an end.


    ¡°I¡¯m so tired of running, mom,¡± the voice broke. ¡°I messed up and now we have to go again.¡±


    I lifted my foot in the air and pulled it back.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, we gotta go!¡± the voice begged.


    I flexed my legs muscles.


    ¡°We¡¯re no longer¡ª¡±


    I kicked down the door, splintering it off on its hinges. The wood cracked and shattered into a dozen pieces. There was nothing that separated me from whatever was inside of that room¡ªthere was just a square hole of nothingness. However, what I saw on the other side was something that I wasn¡¯t ready for.


    As I glanced in, I was met with an image frozen in time¡ªit was something that, even to this day, never leaves my mind. There was nothing in that room except a single bed, which had a single, ethereal maiden resting on it. She was softly laying down, surrounded by the muted, white light that cascaded in from the moonlit window, matching the radiant color of her hair. Glittering specks of dust danced around her gentle body, blowing with an invisible breeze, and those particles flowed down from her snowy eyes to her comforting, mellow hands, which were resting on top of another figure. That figure was a familiar one, whose shaggy hair was buried in the lap of the woman. His knees were buckled on the floor, like he was praying to the goddess before him, bathing partially in her light.


    When time resumed, the splinters of the broken door collided with the floor, causing the man¡¯s face to snap up in my direction. Plastered across his face was a look of pure dread. His eyes were flowing with water and sunken into his skull. His hands were shaking with what I could only presume to be the fear of the end. But what surprised me was how he immediately shot to his feet, unwavering.


    He turned his back to the woman, placing his hand in front of her in a protective manner. His breathing was irregular and occasionally interrupted by snot and mucus that found its way inside of his throat. His yellow eyes were locked on me, stuttering with his clanking teeth.


    I pointed my sword at the fanged man.


    ¡°This is it,¡± I proclaimed. ¡°It all comes to an end now.¡±


    He licked his quivering lips and replied, ¡°I guess you¡¯re right.¡±


    His hand that was in front of the woman began to tense, its veins swelling and its fingers spreading out like a spider. Slowly, subtly, I saw sharpened nails begin to emerge from the tips of those fingers.


    ¡°Honey,¡± the woman calmly spoke, placing her otherworldly hand on his. Within a fraction of a moment, his body relaxed. She then looked up at me with immaculately white eyes and asked, ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    Taking a step forward, I replied, ¡°No¡­but that doesn''t matter anymore.¡±


    ¡°It always does.¡±


    I took another step. ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± I stated. ¡°I just want it to go away; all of it.¡±


    ¡°Your pain? Your hatred?¡±


    I remained silent and simply closed the distance even more.


    ¡°Poor child,¡± she said, her voice whispering around my head, ¡°you must¡¯ve been suffering for so long.¡±


    ¡°Of course I have!¡± I snapped. ¡°Why does everyone ask this? Why do you care now? I¡¯ve already lost everything. You,¡± I turned my attention directly to Hunter, ¡°took it from me.¡±


    ¡°I told you,¡± he countered with a firm whimper, ¡°I ain¡¯t done shit.¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡± I shouted. ¡°Shut up! Shut up! I don¡¯t care!¡± I pulled my blade back, preparing to thrust it forward. ¡°Someone has to pay!¡±


    I then charged at him, fully prepared to take his life. I grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up as he struggled to break free. Just before I began to plunge the blade into his chest, the image in front of me changed. Instead of a monster, I saw myself as a child in my hands. Immediately to my left, for the first time in years, I saw my mother¡ªshe was laying on that ethereal bed.


    I stopped my attack and dropped him, screaming out in exhausted anguish. I turned towards the walls of the room, slashing at them, carving deep scars into them.


    ¡°Fuck it,¡± I repated. ¡°Fuck it! FUCK IT!¡±


    I turned around and looked at the gasping man and the calm woman.


    ¡°Give me one reason why I shouldn¡¯t kill you!¡± I bargained¡ªboth with him and with myself. ¡°Tell me!¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s not me you¡¯re looking for,¡± he barely answered.


    ¡°Then who?!


    The sound of a vibrating silence returned to the room. And it lingered for the longest time. Then, like a haunting serenade, the woman spoke up, releasing any tension within the air.


    ¡°Your father might know who hurt him,¡± she proposed to Hunter.


    Hunter just looked back at her with a ghastly expression. ¡°You don¡¯t mean that,¡± he responded.


    ¡°Your father?¡± I followed up, catching my breath.


    His head then turned back towards me. ¡°Yeah,¡± he answered, ¡°my father. But I haven¡¯t seen him in years.¡±


    I straightened my back and lifted my chin a bit.


    ¡°You told me earlier that there were more of you,¡± I started to ask. ¡°Were you telling the truth?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he replied, ¡°and I haven¡¯t lied to ya yet.¡±


    I took a second to gather my thoughts. The raging fire within my soul continued to burn and fight against the rationality of my mind. That swirling mess of chaos continued to clash inside of me, fighting for dominance. There were temptations. There were reasons. There were memories. And most of all, there were choices.


    Cracking a tooth and taking the longest sigh I ever had, I looked at Hunter and demanded, ¡°Take me to him.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± he responded.


    ¡°You heard me. Take me to your father,¡± I repeated. ¡°If he can really tell me who killed my family, then I won¡¯t have to kill you. I just want this to end.¡±


    Hunter then quickly glanced at the woman, who responded to his look with a nod. He then stared back at me and bit his lip.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he agreed. ¡°I¡¯ll take you to the den, but it¡¯s a little ways away.¡±


    ¡°Where?¡±


    He took a slightly hesitant, deep breath. ¡°In the Carcernin Mountains,¡± he answered. ¡°It¡¯s about a night¡¯s ride away.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll do,¡± I coldly stated. ¡°Go get whatever you need and come back here. We leave immediately.¡±


    He squinted his eyes for a second before replying, ¡°Now? Are you serious? ¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°But why? I don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°No more talking,¡± I cut him off. ¡°Just hurry up before I change my mind.¡±


    He looked at me for a few more moments before taking slow, cautionary steps towards me. His eyes continued to be locked on me until his body passed right by mine, stepping outside of the room. And with that, I was alone with the woman.


    I walked over to her and sat down on the edge of her bed, my feet planted on the ground. I buried my head in my hands, hoping to hold it still, seeing as the world around me started to spin faster and faster. I needed some semblance of control.


    The moment I was able to find some sort of balance, without looking at her, I asked the woman, ¡°Who even are you?¡±


    ¡°A mother,¡± she answered.


    ¡°A mother¡­¡± I repeated, the words lingering on the edge of my tongue and memory.


    A few instances of time went by, although I had no idea how long they lasted. It could¡¯ve been minutes, days, nights, or even months¡ªit all seemed to blend together. There are moments where time itself doesn¡¯t seem to exist, for better or for worse, and it allows one to escape whatever reality they found themselves in. Everything seems to be the same and nothing is what it seems¡­and yet it all makes sense. For me, those instances always happened at night.


    ¡°You know,¡± the mother spoke up, breaking the illusion of peace in the air, ¡°you¡¯re not so different from my boy.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah?¡± I half-heartedly pressed, lifting my head up slightly. I then took a few seconds to slowly stand up, allowing my stiffened bones to moan and work again. I stepped into the doorframe and continued my thought, saying, ¡°That¡¯s because we¡¯re both monsters.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she disagreed, ¡°you¡¯re just in pain.¡±


    I didn¡¯t say another word; I simply continued to walk out of the room, never looking back. As I entered into the hallway, I glanced over towards the stairway just in time to see Bram making his way down it, whip in hand.


    Am I ever truly in control? I wondered to myself as I walked down to the first floor.


    When I arrived back down to the building¡¯s entrance, I saw that one of the chairs was occupied. Sitting on the slightly chipped furniture was Hunter, wearing a small sack on his back and twiddling a piece of wood. After taking a few steps into the dimly lit room, I saw Hunter look up at me and then back down at the ground.


    ¡°You ready, uhhhh,¡± he started to awkwardly ask.


    ¡°Sebastian,¡± I answered him. ¡°And yes, I am.¡±


    As I passed him, placing my hand on the exit door, I continued my thought, saying to myself, ¡°I lie too much.¡±


    Both of us then wandered down the dimly lit streets of the night, walking with a pace between slightly quickened and casual. The entire night seemed to be still and eerie, tense with a palpable aura of mistrust. Every time we passed a shady alleyway or a group of hushed onlookers, my focus would always be on the fanged man next to me. I never allowed him to slack behind me nor cruise in front of me. I only wanted him directly next to me¡ªon my level¡ªthat way he could never hold any sort of advantage, especially because it was night.


    As we made our way towards the outer perimeter of the town, I noticed that he started to slow down, and eventually stop. I matched him and glanced at where his eyes were pointed. Following his gaze, my sight landed on a familiar bar, one whose windows were still broken. The moment I saw that, I harshly continued to move forward.


    ¡°Come on!¡± I called out to Hunter.


    His body twitched for a second, but soon enough, he started to walk again. It took the better part of half an hour, but eventually I found myself next to the worn down stables on the outskirts of the town. Although it was a bit hard to tell, I could see a couple of the various creatures housed within the open pens, which were barely held together by loose nails and weathered wood. Some of those creatures were sholo-birds and some of them were jihls.


    Sholo-birds are quadrupedal, feathered creatures that were normally splashed with numerous colors. Their backs are wide but not long. The most you could fit on one would be two people before it would become a struggle. Don¡¯t be mistaken, the struggle would not come from the sholo-bird¡ªthey are phenomenally strong and muscular¡ªthe problems arise from the humans who take up too much space. The last thing of note about these creatures would be their shovel-like claws. While they may have the word ¡°bird¡± in their name, everything about their anatomy was made for traversing the ground. Those claws would dig into the earth, making them nigh unmovable from anything less than a tornado.


    That being said, the few that I saw had fading, dull colors, with some even missing patches of feathers, mostly around the neck. Their frames were malnourished and their skin constantly was pulled tight against the sagging muscles they shamefully wore. A pitiful display, really.


    The jihl, on the other hand, is a creature built for speed and used almost exclusively so. While the sholo-bird can navigate any terrain at a slow pace, the jihl blazes through any flatland or marginally grassy region. Their hunched, four-legged frame is slim and adept, allowing for only a single rider, even on the most massive of them. They have tails that point behind them, acting both as a means of maintaining balance when turning and as a rudder for when they are in water¡ªthey are some of the quickest beasts in the water. With all of that being stated, their one major flaw is their thin, blue, lizard-like skin. Anything with a point or that¡¯s slightly sharp could penetrate their exterior, leading to major damage. They, in rough terms, are a glass cannonball¡ªfragile but extraordinarily fast.


    While I only saw one jihl within the stables, it was obviously worse for wear. It hobbled on three of its legs, and some of its pointed, elongated face was mangled with cracks. The color of its normally vibrant body was, like the sholo-birds, faded. Still, while sad, the creature probably still functioned for its intended purpose.


    ¡°So what are we taking?¡± Hunter asked.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± I responded.


    ¡°What rider are we takin¡¯? Sholo-bird? Jihl? Or a stupid horse?¡±


    I continued to walk forwards past the stables, eventually responding to him by saying, ¡°We walk.¡±


    He jogged for a second to catch up to me.


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± he questioned.


    ¡°You heard me,¡± I firmly reiterated, ¡°we¡¯re walking there. And before you ask again, I¡¯m aware of how long it¡¯ll take.¡±


    He didn¡¯t say another word, although I could tell by the way he occasionally opened his mouth for the next few minutes that he wanted to speak up on multiple occasions. But he remained silent, which I preferred.


    Eventually, we found ourselves at the border of the wild and the civilized. The only thing that stood between us was a few barren farms that seemed even more empty without the light of day shining down on their poorly grown crops. In fact, the entire open, moonlit grasslands before me looked even more depressing than when I entered. Perhaps that was just a trick of the mind. Perhaps it was how it always was. Or maybe, just maybe, I finally felt the same darkness that every human succumbs to in the night.

 Chapter 6

    There were only a few minutes left before the night would shift over to the lighter half of the day. Barely peeking up from behind the horizon, its hesitant light giving the world a warning of its arrival, the sun began to make itself known. The blackness of the sky was starting to gradually change into a purple hue, which would then flow into a more orange color. It was beautiful to most people, but not me.


    We had just finished our trek through the grassy plains that made up most of the outer lands beyond Varunia. The grass was tame, gentle, and always found itself flowing with the breeze. There were occasional patches of larger shrubbery, like a bush, scattered throughout teh land. There were a few smaller furred animals that would make their homes in those piles of dense greenery, while distant herds of other, larger creatures would graze upon the grass.  Our journey through there was peaceful¡ªalthough extremely tense¡ªand most of all, silent. Just like the wilderness we traversed through, most of the time walking was spent just existing.


    Just as the night began to fade away, we found ourselves at the edge of the Dubitor Forest, which surrounded the entirety of the Carernin Mountains¡¯ base. It would take another day or so of careful navigation to make it through in order to reach the mountains.


    ¡°Can we take a pause for a moment?¡± Hunter asked. ¡°Preferably in a shaded area.¡±


    Looking straight into the forest, not at him, I replied, ¡°Rest? There''s no need for that¡ªwe¡¯re almost there.¡± I then looked back at him. ¡°That is, if your den is where you claim it is.¡±


    Hunter looked up at the sky, in the direction of the sun, and continued to complain. ¡°We haven¡¯t even eaten anything all night! I¡¯m starving, cold, tired, and¡ª¡±


    ¡°And I don¡¯t care,¡± I said, cutting him off. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard you say a damn thing all night and now you¡¯re suddenly on edge. Why?¡±


    I saw him start to fidget in place. His left foot tapped in uneven intervals, his eyes darted around, always ending up back at the sky, and his fingers wiggled about.


    ¡°Are you always like this?¡± he asked. His face had a look of slight disgust to it. ¡°How do you live like this?¡±


    ¡°Like I always have,¡± I simply stated. ¡°And I usually don¡¯t talk too much, either. So let¡¯s keep it that way.¡±


    Hunter rolled his eyes and sighed. We then took a few cautious steps as we entered the treeline of the forest. The forest itself was dark and uninviting. Granted, at that time, morning was just in its early stages, and so every tree¡¯s shadow was elongated and full of darkness. Even with that in mind, there was something silently ominous about the entire woods¡ªthat much was clear the moment I stepped foot beyond its boundaries. There were very few birds singing, and those that were, sang in discordant harmony. Their notes were sharper than knives and rhythmically out of sync. In terms of other life, there were hundreds of insects and other critters out in the open. Spiders weaved intricate webs high in the foliage, large worms constantly popped out of the earth and then burrowed back into it, and buzzing mosquitoes flew in swarms.


    Everything seemed lively and normal on the surface, but there was an unsettling presence that always kept me on edge: the wind. Constantly, without fail, there was an ever-present breeze that blew through the entirety of the forest, dancing around the trees and occasionally dipping down to the ground before bouncing back up. When this wind passed by some hollow trees, a haunting sound would fill it, and in turn, the vicinity. That in and of itself made my steps more hesitant and careful.


    After about an hour of walking, a few stray rays of sunlight began to pierce the veil of leaves that crowned the roof of the forest. I noticed that Hunter would never walk into them and would actively avoid them. He looked to be more alert than he was during the night, and every time I looked back at him, he would immediately meet my gaze. Seeing him suddenly have an immense amount of energy to him caught my attention, especially because of how focused he was on the sunlight.


    ¡°It¡¯s a strange tune, ain¡¯t it?¡± he asked me with a slight bit of pep in his voice. ¡°The wind, that is.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s something,¡± I responded. ¡°But I¡¯m not much of a fan of music, so I don¡¯t really care.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a shame,¡± he replied, catching up to me. Standing next to me, he continued his thought. ¡°You really should care.¡±


    ¡°Well I don''t, so let''s stop talking about it.¡±


    I saw a slight smile crack on his face. ¡°I guess you don¡¯t want to go to the den then.¡±


    I stopped walking.


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I asked, turning my entire body towards him.


    ¡°The song,¡± he simply answered, pointing at the open air. ¡°It¡¯s the guide.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk in riddles,¡± I somewhat commanded.


    He then laughed and had a dubious grin crawl across his face. Cupping his ear with one hand, he said, ¡°If you want to get to the den, you have to listen¡ªsomething I¡¯m starting to figure out you¡¯re not too good at.¡±


    With the blankest stare I could muster, I replied, ¡°Get to the point.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± he slyly responded, ¡°and also, thank you for proving my point. Now,¡± he said, slightly skipping as he walked around me, ¡°a common secret among my people is that the Song of Dubitor leads the way to our home.¡±


    ¡°The Song of Dubitor?¡± I repeated.


    ¡°That¡¯s what we call the wind in this forest,¡± he answered. ¡°And a well-known phrase that we all say is that ¡®the melody will bring you back.¡¯ Meaning that if you follow the sound of the wind, you¡¯ll be led straight back to the den.¡±


    I squinted my eyes in a half-curious, half-judgmental way. ¡°And how do you do that?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Well,¡± he chuckled, ¡°that¡¯s something that takes some practice. You see, we venture out of the caves that we call home in order to scavenge for food in this forest. In order for us not to get lost, we developed this,¡± he hesitated for a second, ¡°technique of wind listening. It takes a few years of practice, but eventually it becomes as natural as breathing.¡±


    ¡°How do you get lost in a forest?¡± I questioned, a bit skeptical. ¡°It¡¯s not hard to navigate through wooded areas, no matter how dense they are. So you and your people are either idiots or you¡¯re lying to me.¡±


    He furled his eyebrows in a way that exaggerated an expression of getting offended. ¡°You really don¡¯t know anything about this place, do you?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°These woods don¡¯t make sense,¡± he answered. ¡°You could walk in a straight line for days and end up back where you started. You could follow the South Star the entire time¡ªalthough I¡¯d HIGHLY doubt you would ever see a single star through this canopy¡ªand still end up going west.¡±


    ¡°Are you done with your rambling?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not listening,¡± he said in a halfway mocking tone. ¡°That¡¯s literally the one thing you have to do in this forest.¡±


    I stopped talking and just looked at him, expectantly.


    ¡°How do you think we¡¯ve managed to remain hidden from the world?¡± he continued. ¡°Even the most skilled trackers and hunters have never been able to find us. In fact, why do you think the people of the town still believe that we don¡¯t exist anymore?¡±


    I nodded my head in hesitant agreement.


    ¡°See?¡± he said. ¡°Now you¡¯re starting to get it.¡± Then, a bit under his breath, he whispered to himself, ¡°I swear¡­¡±


    I was tired. Not from the journey¡ªI had had harder adventures¡ªnor was it from the constant droning of the wind, which would lull some people to sleep. In fact, I was already tired of having another person traveling with me.


    ¡°So what are you trying to say?¡± I asked with a sigh.


    The look he gave me at that moment was one that screamed Are you serious?


    Rolling his eyes, Hunter replied, ¡°That you¡¯re going to get us lost.¡±


    I shook my head and started to turn around to continue our stroll through the whispering woods. Just as my back began to face him, I heard Hunter speak up again.


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Wait a second,¡± he said. I paused, irritated. ¡°Now that I think about it, why are you the one that¡¯s been leading this crusade? I¡¯m the one who knows the way. In fact, if I recall, the whole reason why you didn¡¯t kill me was to guide you.¡±


    ¡°You know what, you¡¯re right,¡± I firmly stated, gritting my teeth and turning towards him. ¡°Since you¡¯re so familiar with these lands, why don¡¯t you lead?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know about that,¡± he teased. ¡°I¡¯m really tired and hungry. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be able to do a good enough job if I don''t get some food and rest. It would be a shame if I screwed up and accidentally lead us in the wrong¡ª¡±


    I rushed him. I grabbed his collar, lifted him up, slammed him against a tree, and put my sword against his throat. I let a burst of fire escape my heart and shoot out of my mouth.


    ¡°I swear to god that if you say another fucking word I won¡¯t hesistate to slit your throat!¡± I threatened.


    Choking a bit on my hand and his words, he slyly responded, ¡°First off, that¡¯s a lie, because you have hesitated before.¡±


    I pressed him even harder against the truck, cracking some of the bark.


    ¡°I¡¯m tired of your shit,¡± I said, still seething in anger. ¡°I¡¯ve killed many things like you, so don¡¯t think that I won¡¯t.¡±


    With one eyebrow raised and a somewhat cocky smile on his face, Hunter responded, ¡°Oh, so now you¡¯re going to kill your only guide while you¡¯re in the middle of the forest? Good thinking.¡±


    I dropped him and immediately walked away, still steaming. I wandered up to a small tree that was near us and unleashed my sword at it. With one clean, fury-fill strike, I split the tree horizontally. Its branches cracked and broke as it slowly started to tip. As gravity started to take over and accelerate its fall, I could hear its bark and inner wood cry out in pain. It then slammed against the ground, causing the leaves around it to be thrown in the air before gently floating back down.


    ¡°Cut it up,¡± I demanded, still not looking at him.


    ¡°What?¡± he asked in confusion.


    ¡°Cut it up,¡± I repeated, ¡°and make a fire. I¡¯ll be back with meat.¡±


    ***


    Although the light within the forest had hardly changed, I could tell that it was about midday. The canopy above made it hard to grasp any semblance of time. Very few strands of light found their way to the forest floor, and those that did could easily be mistaken for the glow of the moon. If my instincts weren¡¯t as sharp as they were or if my natural sense of internal time wasn¡¯t as precise, days and minutes would feel the same¡ªthey would have no meaning until time ran out.


    I was sitting on the ground, directly across from Hunter, with my back resting against a thick tree. Between us was a crackling fire, built by him, but ignited by me. Its rumbling and low orange flames gave selective vision to the dim interior woods that surrounded us. The elongated shadows cast by the fire quivered and shook along with it, dancing the way that the winds directed.


    The food that was being cooked on the fire was scraps and lean meat, harvested from whatever rodent wildlife I managed to quickly find in my immediate vicinity. I really didn¡¯t feel like putting any effort into finding anything bountiful or nutritious. But nonetheless, whatever I did manage to get, I put onto a flat, thin, black stone, and then set that stone over the flames by using four thick sticks of similar length.


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Hunter complained, staring at the bare meat that was sizzling on the rock.


    ¡°Be happy you get anything,¡± I annoyingly countered. I flipped over my half with one hand and rubbed my valrose with the other. ¡°Why am I even doing this?¡± I said to myself, out loud.


    A few more minutes passed until the food was ready to be eaten. It technically could have been fine to eat a while before I decided to stop cooking it, but I wasn¡¯t sure if there was a slight, inherent toxicity within the life of the forest. So I cooked it more thoroughly, just in case.


    ¡°Go ahead,¡± I started to announced, ¡°it should be read¡ª¡±


    But before I could even finish, I saw a blur of movement heading towards me. I quickly reached for my sword, but stopped partway when my eyes realized what it was¡­


    ¡°Ohhhhhhhhhh that hits the spot,¡± Hunter joyfully announced, his mouth full with the food that he just grabbed with his lightning-quick hands. ¡°Finally!¡±


    I took a deep breath, shook my head, and grabbed my half of the meal. I ate it slowly, all the while I never let my sight wander away from the fanged man. Even in his passive, almost childlike demeanor, I still did not trust him for a second.


    Eventually, we had both finished our meal and sat down, staring at each other with very different looks in our eyes. His was one of satisfaction, mixed with a few layers of discomfort¡ªit was a look that I typically saw on people that hadn¡¯t adventured outside of their walls. However, that being said, there was something else buried beneath his look. It was hard for me to pinpoint, but it was almost like there was a hint of longing¡­or maybe anxiety.


    After some more time spent digesting the food, resting on the midday floor of the forest, Hunter suddenly spoke up.


    ¡°Hey, uh, I got a question,¡± he somewhat sheepishly asked.


    ¡°What?¡± I neutrally replied.


    His eyes then glanced slightly behind me at my sword. ¡°That sword,¡± he started to ask, ¡°I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s the firelight, but does it have a slight red tint to it?¡±


    ¡°It does,¡± I answered, matter-of-factly. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Well, uh, you see, Bram has a whip and the end has the same color to it. I¡¯ve never seen anyone else have something like it, so I was wondering what it was.¡±


    I didn¡¯t answer him right away. There was a part of me that refused to give him any piece of information¡ªit was the part of me that continued to touch the valrose. But a separate, smaller, and newer part of me began to argue that there wasn¡¯t a good reason not to tell him. After all, it wasn¡¯t as though it was secret knowledge, just something that the average person doesn¡¯t know. Both sides of myself fought for my undivided attention, playing with my head and pulling at my heart.


    ¡°It has this tint because it¡¯s a drac-made sword,¡± I finally answered him, putting one hand on the ground. The other hand was used to unsheathe the sword that was already partially out of the scabbard.


    As I pulled it fully free from its leather-bound containment, I noticed that the usual coloration it had was a little more muted. It was glowing a bit more from the flames, but that was an outside pigment, not one naturally embedded in it.


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Hunter asked. ¡°I figured it was red because it was stained with the blood of all the things you¡¯ve killed.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said with a slight chuckle. I hesitated for a second, furling my eyebrows and thinking. Shaking my head, I continued, saying, ¡°Although that would be pretty fitting.¡± I then adjusted how I sat to a more comfortable position. ¡°It¡¯s made out of a rare material called drac¡ªit¡¯s about the same weight and has the same durability as steel.¡±


    Hunter then leaned in a bit closer, his eyes more engaged. ¡°So what makes it special?¡± he asked. ¡°Why is it so rare?¡±


    I turned the blade in my hand, letting the light of the fire curl around it at all angles. ¡°Well, it¡¯s rare because it¡¯s a metal that¡¯s completely man-made. You could never find it buried naturally in the earth. Plus,¡± I said, looking back up at him, ¡°I don¡¯t know if there¡¯s a single person who knows how to make it anymore.¡±


    ¡°Anymore? Then how do you have it?¡±


    I let out another chuckle, most of the sound coming out of my nose. ¡°Nowadays it¡¯s usually only given to extremely rich people or Slayers that are well-renowned for hunting monsters. Either those who can afford it or those who can use it get it.¡± I then went deeper into my memories. ¡°Apparently this stuff was all over the place in the Old World, but after that whole thing, most of it was lost in ruins and stuff. Hell, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if the Creator banished what drac was left on the surface to the hells,¡± I said as I looked up to the sky.


    ¡°Damn,¡± Hunter replied with fascination obviously plastered across his face. ¡°That¡¯s some ancient shit right there.¡± He then looked up at the sky and put his hands behind his head. ¡°I kinda wish some of that stuff was still around¡ªI feel like all that stuff is so cool.¡±


    I felt my face depress a bit and I gave a half-frown. ¡°Not really,¡± I said. ¡°You can only say that because you don¡¯t know what all of that old stuff was like. You don''t understand it and you weren¡¯t there.¡± I then sighed. ¡°If you don¡¯t understand something, then you just let your mind fill in the blanks and run wild. Wars look fun in retrospect. Struggles look easy from the future. Truth is always uglier and more boring than imagination.¡±


    His more upbeat expression started to sink a bit, but then it sprang right back up. When he looked into my eyes, I saw a bit of cockiness and genuine thought behind them.


    ¡°That applies to you too, ya know,¡± Hunter explained.


    ¡°I¡­¡±


    I tried to counter that, but no words came out of my mouth. My brain attempted to articulate a single argument, but none of them were rooted in any logic. And when I tried to look to my heart to let some emotional voice fight against what he said, all I found was his same sentence replayed.


    ¡°Well, anyway,¡± I said, shaking my head and shifting the subject of the conversation. ¡°You asked what makes drac special, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I thought that¡¯s why you started preaching.¡±


    ¡°I mean, yeah,¡± I replied, trying not to let a slight smile creep out. ¡°Drac is special because of what it does.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t leave me in suspense,¡± Hunter playfully teased. ¡°What does it do?¡±


    With a causally solemn expression, I replied, ¡°Kill.¡±


    Without words, I could see the confusion in his eyes.


    ¡°It¡¯s toxic,¡± I began to explain. ¡°Whatever they mixed into here is beyond anything we have today¡ªI can only imagine the bloodlust back then.¡± I then sighed. ¡°It¡¯s extremely toxic to most monsters in the world, killing them even if they only suffered a single scratch. Unlike any other poison, this one doesn¡¯t show up in blood. In fact, it¡¯s impossible to tell if someone is being affected by it until they die. It¡¯s almost like the toxin destroys the body rather than just kill the creature. However, it has no effect on humans.¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s freakin¡¯ brutal,¡± Hunter responded with wide eyes. ¡°I wonder why it didn¡¯t kill me.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t immediately respond to him. I just stared at him with my mouth slightly agape. I shook my head a few times and rubbed my valrose, but I couldn¡¯t come up with a single word. What I did come up with, however, was a whirlpool of contradicting emotions. To try and find some sort of clarity or salvation through that flurry, I looked down at the purple flower. When I did, I certainly received clarity, but it was the kind that I refused to acknowledge.


    The valrose was not blooming.


    I grew a bit angry¡ªthat much was obvious. Outwardly, my slightly veiny face and flexed muscles communicated that. My grinding teeth and rolling eyes screamed my annoyance, and my fidgeting hands clearly showed my restlessness and uncomfortability.


    Quickly, I stood up, grabbed one of the sacks of water that we carried, and poured it over the fire. It was swiftly extinguished. I then put away all of the supplies we had set out and set them next to me.


    ¡°Get some sleep,¡± I demanded.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± Hunter asked, his voice steadily increasing.


    I stopped for a second and turned towards him. ¡°I¡¯m done talking. Get some rest. We walk again when the night comes.¡±


    After that, I said no more words. Even when he would try and ask me or press any further, I would shoot him the most menacing look I could. Eventually, that got him to shut up and even look away from me.


    It took about an hour or so, but I saw him drift asleep. His breathing became regulated, his eyes were completely closed, and his body was defenseless. I, on the other hand, chose to stay awake. I slumped myself against the same tree I ate at and stared daggers at him the entire time, all while I chewed the miizabloom that I found while scouring for food.


    I¡¯m tired, I told myself.

 Chapter 7

    Why? I thought to myself.


    My question wasn¡¯t about anything in particular. In fact, I struggled to find one, single thing that it was referring to. Dozens of disjointed thoughts swirled around in my head, causing the world around me to slightly tilt from side to side, not unlike the feeling of having a few drinks. Fortunately for me, I had been sitting against a rather robust tree, keeping aware of my surroundings and keeping an eye on Hunter. If I was standing or had nothing to focus on, I would¡¯ve certainly blacked out.


    There were a couple more hours until night would fall again and we would start our journey anew. In those silent hours, I wondered about many things. I thought about how every time we traveled it was during the night, but if I had it my way, there would be no designated time to travel¡ªwe would walk regardless of the time. I thought about how comforting the night was, although each day we walked, it grew more and more eerie. I didn¡¯t know why. Finally, I couldn¡¯t help but think about the fanged man that was lying asleep only a stone¡¯s throw away.


    Every time my eyes would land on him, my mind would become obsessed with his image. I would think about the tiniest details that I noticed about him. Like how he purposely avoided daylight, choosing to subtly move from shadow to shadow while we traversed the forest. Or another thing I noticed was how youthful and unburdened he seemed. No, that¡¯s not quite right. I think the way I thought about him at that time was that he seemed like someone who wasn¡¯t oblivious to the horrors in front of him; he would see them, but choose to keep smiling. I didn¡¯t understand it.


    Something else that I didn¡¯t understand was why I was feeling so conflicted. It was like a war was being waged within my very being. There was a fiery, red, daylike wind that pushed against a cold, purple, nightlike tide. Neither one seemed completely fulfilling nor satisfying. I didn¡¯t want to find myself completely consumed by either. Rather, I wanted to remain in the brief pockets of time that formed from where they clashed. Those spaces, however fleeting they were, had the warm, wind-like strength of the day, but mixed with the reality of the night. I couldn¡¯t assign a color to it. I couldn¡¯t assign value to it. Hell, I couldn¡¯t even figure out what it was. I just knew that it felt good. It felt genuine. And it felt like something that I had never felt.


    Regardless of how I felt on the inside, I continued to look at him. I continued to inspect every little detail of him, like I was holding on to a distant memory that I didn¡¯t want to ever leave my sight again. And so, I kept staring. And staring. And staring.


    Why? I continued to ask myself. The night is almost here¡­but I¡¯m not sure if I want it to be. I wish I could fall asleep, just once¡­


    ***


    ¡°Wake up,¡± I firmly said, gently whacking Hunter on the head. ¡°It¡¯s time to get moving.¡±


    I heard him choke on his spit for a bit before groaning and stretching his limbs. It took him a few more seconds than I would¡¯ve liked, but he did eventually get up and around, and he readied himself for another trek.


    The campfire was long extinguished, the leftover food¡ªwhich came entirely from my share¡ªwas put in my coldsack, my sword was sheathed, and the valrose was secured in my front coat pocket. I assumed that he packed up everything that was his, although I didn¡¯t really bother to check. We then began to walk in the direction we were heading the night before, however this time, Hunter was leading.


    There was still a gentle, ever-present breeze that ran through the forest. And to my amazement, I could still see a good deal of what was ahead of me. Some of the leaves on the trees dimly glowed and there were swarms of flashing bugs that nonchalantly coasted through the air, sometimes taking a brief ride on the wind. Even with those two things, however, I still couldn''t understand why the darkness of the night wasn¡¯t taking hold of the forest. Sure it was a little darker than it was during the day, but it was as if the forest itself repelled the notion of the night. It felt like there was an ever-present moon that lit up the immediate surroundings in a smooth, grey light. It was something that was interesting to me for some reason. Honestly, I kind of wished I could do the same. But regardless, we continued to move forward.


    For the most part, Hunter led us in the direction that the wind was blowing from, although he did make a few detours. One of those detours was about an hour into the walk. He suddenly paused for a second before sharply turning right. We continued for a couple of minutes before happening upon a small, calmly flowing creek. Looking upstream and downstream, I noticed how the trees were slightly parted where that creek flowed, like the forest was giving the tiny, insignificant path of water its own space to exist.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked.


    Holding a hand in the air, Hunter replied, ¡°Wait.¡±


    Just then, the wind that was blowing against us, which was coming from the other side of the creek, suddenly changed directions. It was then coming from upstream.


    ¡°Most people get lost here,¡± Hunter commented. Although I couldn¡¯t see his face, I could hear him smiling as he said that.


    We traveled upstream, following the creek for another hour. It was oddly peaceful. The water had a constant, gentle rhythm to the way it flowed, and the water itself was as clear as can be. Even the imperfections within the stream, where the rocks would cause little ripples in the water, seemed perfect, including what it reflected. Using the limited light of the woods, I found myself staring into the creek, and unsurprisingly, I saw it looking back at me. However, for the first time in a long time, for some reason, I wasn¡¯t repelled by the sight of my own face. I didn¡¯t like it, but it felt more human. The one thing I couldn¡¯t see in reflection, however, was the valrose¡ªprobably because it blended in with the night.


    ¡°How are ya feelin¡¯?¡± Hunter asked me, still sauntering forward.


    ¡°Relaxed,¡± I immediately answered him. I then shook my head and said, ¡°Wait, why does that matter?¡±


    ¡°I was just wonderin¡¯,¡± he replied, resting his arms behind his head. ¡°This is my favorite part of the forest, although it¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve been here. I used to always come out here to escape that stupid den.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a nice creek, I¡¯ll give you that.¡±


    He turned his head around, just as a glowing insect passed his face, briefly illuminating it. That light gave his cracked smile even more life. ¡°Thank you!¡± he said in a somewhat vindicated manner. ¡°My mother always tells me how much she doesn¡¯t like it.¡±


    ¡°Your mother?¡±


    He stopped. I felt the breeze grow a bit colder. The temporary peace that the calming creek granted us began to unravel. I could feel the weight of the tension in the air start to crowd the space.


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± he said, ¡°...my mother. You¡¯ve seen her.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­right,¡± I replied.


    A few seconds of nothingness went by.


    ¡°She¡¯s a beautiful creature, you know,¡± I finally said. ¡°Nothing like you.¡±


    He chuckled a bit, relaxing some of the tension. ¡°You can say that again,¡± he agreed. He then looked me square in the eyes with an honest expression. ¡°By the way, why didn¡¯t you kill me? You stopped the moment you looked at her.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­she reminded me of my mother,¡± I genuinely replied.


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    A few more glowing bugs passed by us.


    ¡°What was she like?¡± he asked.


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    I felt the breeze warm up slightly.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I replied, shaking my head. ¡°Only recently have I begun to remember what she looked like. It¡¯s been years since I¡¯ve seen her face.¡±


    ¡°What do you remember of her face?¡±


    I took a deep breath and looked away from Hunter. ¡°I used to only see blood spatters and the claw marks of the fanged man who killed her. But now I can also see her white smile beneath it.¡±


    I didn¡¯t feel any anger when I spoke those words. In fact, the only thing I did feel was lighter. It was like a weight was being lifted off of my chest. As my ears began to focus on the sound of the creek¡¯s current, I felt my heart soothe my mind. I looked back at him, and I could feel the slightest bit of moisture start to build up behind my eyes. ¡°What''s yours like?¡±


    He smiled at me. ¡°Like a Herald¡ªmy own personal guardian from the heavens that watches over me,¡± he answered. ¡°She¡¯s the reason I¡¯m still here. Honestly, if it wasn¡¯t for her, I¡¯d probably be just like Father.¡±


    ¡°Oh really?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, scratching the back of his head, ¡°I used to have the same amount of hate in my heart as Father. We both wanted people like you dead and we wanted revenge for what humans put us through. But over time, I learned what it meant to love by my mother¡¯s example. She¡¯s the one who supported me, even when I told her that I wanted to leave. She left with me in order to escape my father¡¯s madness. On a whim, we ran like hell away from there.¡±


    ¡°You ran?¡±


    ¡°I did. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed,¡± he laughed, ¡°I¡¯m quite good at that.¡±


    ¡°True.¡±


    There was a natural silence that set in, accompanied only by the occasional stray call of an unknown insect and the constant tune of the creek. The wind made no sound, but I felt it all the same. There were even more glowing bugs out than before.


    As peaceful as it was, a part of my body snapped up and reached for my front jacket pocket. However, unlike every other time, another part of my body stopped it. My hand froze in the air, tense, but unmoving. With both sides at a stalemate, the choice was then left up to me.


    I shook my head, walked forward towards Hunter, and let my hand rest to my side.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± I said to him, ¡°we still have more ground to cover.¡±


    ***


    Daytime was starting to make itself known again. We had traveled another five hours or so upstream, quietly, before the density of the forest began to thin. We had set up camp, deciding to stop early in order to let the light of day pass us by. Another fire was burning bright, I was resting up against a rock with one knee propped up, and Hunter positioned himself below a thick canopy of leaves. On top of the fire was multiple large slabs of meat, mixed in with a couple of berries that tasted better when burnt¡­at least that¡¯s what Hunter claimed.


    ¡°You know,¡± Hunte began to say, his face somewhat stuffed with food, ¡°you didn¡¯t have to kill that bramblebear. I already found us some food.¡±


    ¡°But it was a threat,¡± I replied before taking a bite of the meat.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to attack everything you think is a threat. I know it¡¯s hard to see at night, but still.¡±


    ¡°I can see perfectly fine in the dark,¡± I argued.


    Swallowing what was in his mouth, he responded, ¡°Well then you have no excuse.¡± He then wagged his finger in the air. ¡°Not everything can be solved by cutting it down.¡±


    ¡°And not every problem goes away when you avoid it,¡± I countered.


    Hunter gave me a disappointed look. I returned that look with both my eyebrows raised and my shoulders shrugged. We then continued to eat our meals without talking. I took a couple of swigs of my waterskin after I finished my food and relaxed my back even more against the rock. When I looked over at Hunter, I saw that he had finished his meal a while ago, and was just laying in the shade, on his side.


    ¡°I have a question for you,¡± I finally asked.


    ¡°Yes?¡± he responded.


    ¡°I¡¯ve noticed that you avoid sunlight at all cost,¡± I said, pointing at the shade he was currently laying in. ¡°Even when you¡¯re walking through the forest, you hop from shadow to shadow. Why is that?¡±


    He squinted at me, not answering right away. ¡°Well, you see, I¡¯m kind of¡­sensitive to it.¡±


    ¡°Sensitive?¡± I reiterated. ¡°Is it like a weakness of yours?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± he asked, recoiling his head a bit.


    ¡°Most creatures I¡¯ve fought have one or more weaknesses¡ªwhether that¡¯s a flaw in their outer shell, vulnerability to heat or the cold, being unable to swim, or so on.¡± I then licked the inside of my lips as I thought a bit more. ¡°Do you have any other weaknesses? What about getting stabbed with something specific? Like wood or certain metals?¡±


    Hunter sat up. ¡°Yeah, actually, I am weak to getting stabbed.¡±


    I leaned in closer. ¡°Oh really? By what?¡±


    ¡°Swords, spears, and sometimes arrows if you¡¯re a good enough shot,¡± he replied with a sly smile.


    I sat back, deflated.


    ¡°But seriously,¡± Hunter continued, ¡°being sensitive to sunlight is just something that my people are all born with¡ªat least I¡¯m pretty sure.¡± He then began to twirl a small flower in his hand. ¡°When we¡¯re exposed to a lot of sunlight, it does something to us. It doesn¡¯t hurt us, but it makes us itchy.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± I asked, a bit surprised.


    ¡°Not the way you¡¯re thinking about it, though,¡± he countered. ¡°It makes us feel itchy on the outside and inside. I don¡¯t know how to describe it, but it¡¯s like an annoyance that you can¡¯t scratch, but if you don¡¯t do anything about it, it just gets worse.¡± He then spun the flower, causing it to fly in the air, and then watched it float back down into his hands. ¡°Before you know it, it''s driving you crazy, and instead of feeling like an itch, it hurts. It hurts bad. So bad, in fact, that I would rather someone cut me open and call it a day.¡±


    ¡°So what do you do?¡±


    ¡°Oh I¡¯m not done, yet,¡± he replied, kind of cutting me off. ¡°It¡¯s not just physical pain that you feel, but pain in the brain too.¡± He gripped his flower a bit too hard, causing some of the petals to fall off. ¡°Your mind stars runnin¡¯ extra fast and all your thoughts start to fixate on one thing.¡±


    ¡°And that is?¡±


    ¡°Blood,¡± he answered. As he did, he crushed the flower in his hand. The juices and water of that flower began to drip out of his hand.


    ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°When that happens, these bad boys,¡± he said, pointing to two of his upper teeth, ¡°extend really far out, letting us bite into things much easier.¡±


    ¡°So you could drink blood,¡± I stated.


    ¡°I guess so, yeah,¡± he agreed. ¡°That has to be the case, ¡®cause the moment we drink any amount of blood, no matter the creature, living or dead, we instantly feel better.¡±


    I replied to his statement with an inquisitive look.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it either,¡± he continued, acknowledging the look on my face. ¡°But that¡¯s the God¡¯s honest truth, and she can smite me down if I¡¯m lyin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to make of that,¡± I responded. My mind began to go down some dark, confusing rabbit holes.


    ¡°Me either,¡± Hunter agreed. ¡°But yeah, that¡¯s why we always go out at night and why are home is deep in the mountains, within some stupid, dank caves.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± was all I could say.


    A few seconds went by and I decided to get my blade out and start cleaning it. I did that for a while, removing any of the blood that was still caked on there, which wasn¡¯t much. Honestly, after removing the blood, I swear I could barely see the red tint that I was used to seeing on my drac sword. Although, to be fair, I figured that my eyes were just weakened from my lack of sleep.


    ¡°You know what?¡± Hunter randomly spoke up. ¡°Since you asked me something, I wanna ask you somethin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Go right ahead,¡± I answered, polishing the tip of my sword.


    ¡°You said your name is Sebastian, right?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s correct.¡±


    ¡°What does it mean?¡±


    I stopped cleaning my blade and sheathed it. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I answered. I then looked up at the sky and began to contemplate something. An old thought started to resurface within my mind, and I let myself linger on it. ¡°The only thing I remember is being told by someone that the name is supposed to mean strength and leadership and change, or something like that.¡±


    ¡°Really? I¡¯ve never heard of the name so I was curious.¡±


    ¡°Apparently it comes from some famous hero from the Old Wars, but I don¡¯t really care to find out. Names are pointless.¡±


    ¡°No they aren''t,¡± Hunter disagreed. ¡°Names mean a lot.¡±


    ¡°They can mean a lot of things, but it¡¯s all superficial,¡± I replied. ¡°Why do you think they mean something?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s what makes you who you are, ya know?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± I honestly answered. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Like, uh,¡± he shook his head back and forth, ¡°that it makes you an individual. I don¡¯t think you can really get to know someone by lookin¡¯ at them, but you can if you talk to them and get to know their name. At least that¡¯s what I think.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that.¡±


    ¡°Give it a try,¡± he insisted.


    ¡°No, that¡¯s dumb,¡± I adamantly replied.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, give it a try, Sebastian.¡±


    ¡°I-¡± I started to say before pausing and then looking at him with an uncomfortable look. My ears wanted to reject whatever awful word he just said. ¡°No, I think I¡¯m good. I think I¡¯m done for the day and you should be too.¡±


    ¡°Boooo,¡± Hunter said, his thumbs pointing down towards the ground..


    ¡°We need to get our rest before the climb up the mountains tomorrow. I can tell that we¡¯re getting close.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we are,¡± he dejectedly agreed, laying down, turning his back towards me.


    I followed his lead and laid down on the ground. Even if I didn¡¯t want to, my body wouldn¡¯t let me stay up. As much as I tried to put on a rigid, tough exterior, there was nothing left for my body to give, which surprised me. Up until that point, I had been able to go an entire week without ever needing sleep. But for some reason, at that moment, I felt comfortable, which made my eyes grow heavy. I knew that the moment I closed them, I would succumb to sleep.


    Just before I let that happen, I said out loud, ¡°Get your rest, Hunter, we have a long night ahead of us.¡± And then I slept for the first time in days.

 Chapter 8

    It was the night of the next day. The night was young and we were on our way. It only took a matter of thirty minutes or so before we passed by the edge of the forest that sat in front of the Carcernin Mountains. The ground that was once greenly vegatative, quickly thinned out and gave way to an earthy texture. Where there were once trees now stood free and empty space. And because of that space, the constant, mysterious light from the forest began to fade away, leaving us completely when he crossed the threshold of the trees and the open air of the mountains.


    Looking up, I saw that the sky was clear in some areas, but cloudy in others. The constellations that swirled around the nighttime sky, along with the moon, were partially obscured, only allowing a fraction of light to find its way down to the surface. It was at times like that that I wished for the day. That way the path in front of me would be more clear, making it so I wouldn¡¯t have to make assumptions and try to guess my way towards where I was heading. However, in retrospect, perhaps it was better that I wasn¡¯t able to see the full extent of the twisted mountains that were in front me¡ªthat would¡¯ve certainly reawakened something in me.


    With everything that I was seeing with my eyes, the one thing that I noticed the most was the silence. Only after the forest¡¯s song was gone did I realize that I was listening to it. In its place was only a void feeling. Maybe it was to fill that void, or maybe it was because it was a genuine question, but either way, I immediately spoke up.


    ¡°Hunter, where do we go from here?¡± I asked, looking around the shadowy, unseeable landscape around me.


    ¡°Oh, we just head back, but on a slightly different path,¡± Hunter answered.


    Still looking around us, I replied, absentmindedly serious, ¡°Why would we do that?¡±


    I felt a bit of pressure quickly impact the back of my head. It didn¡¯t hurt, but it didn¡¯t feel the best either. As I looked behind me, I saw the yellow, grinning eyes of Hunter and I saw him pulling back the hand he just used to slap me.


    ¡°I¡¯m kidding,¡± he laughed, ¡°we gotta climb.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, rubbing the back of my head.


    I walked up to the face of the mountain¡¯s cliff in front of me. The sheer wall of rock extended upwards past where my vision could see, fading into the black beyond. No amount of moonlight was able to illuminate it enough. I then grabbed onto whatever cracks and crevices that I could, and I began to climb upwards.


    My arms flexed with each new portion of rock my hands clutched onto. My body was squarely pressed against the wall, and in order to maintain my dominance over gravity, I carefully balanced my core strength. Because of that, I felt my abs slowly heat up over the next ten minutes. And it was a long ten minutes. In fact, looking back, I would even argue that my climb took an upwards of an hour to finish, but honestly, there was no way of knowing. Either way, I powered through any ounce of pain that I felt. I knew how athletic I was and how many inhuman feats I had accomplished. I figured that something as simple as climbing a wall was nothing to me, and so, I continued to push myself upwards as fast as I could.


    Finally making it to a large enough plateau, I slumped on the ground and laid flat on my back. My arms were pulsing in a way that made it seem like they were gasping for air. My legs wouldn¡¯t stop shaking, and my abs felt as though they were made of unmoving, tight iron.


    After taking a few more seconds to collect myself, I peered over the edge in order to watch Hunter¡¯s ascent. As I gazed into the abyss below, I saw no movement, except for the stray pebble that I knocked over the edge.


    That¡¯s right, I thought to myself, I told him not to underestimate me. I¡¯ve gone through hell and back¡ªmy strength is unrivaled.


    ¡°Whatcha lookin¡¯ at?¡± I heard a voice suddenly say from behind, like a phantom apparating from the shadows.


    ¡°Who are you!?¡± I yelled as I quickly turned around to engage with whatever was on the cliff with me. Unfortunately, It was just Hunter.


    ¡°Damn,¡± Hunter said, holding his hands in the air, ¡°not only are you slow, but you¡¯re also forgetful.¡±


    I took a couple long breaths to slow down my heart rate, and then asked, ¡°How in the hell are you up here? Did I miss you climbing up another way?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he chuckled, ¡°although I think you got it backwards¡ªI was the one watching you.¡±


    ¡°What¡­¡± My breathing returned to normal. ¡°How did¡­¡±


    ¡°I used to play on these cliffs all the time,¡± he replied, leaning against the next portion of the mountain that we were going to climb.


    ¡°Ah, so you took the easy way up, huh? I bet you know all sorts of different ways up and just watched me take the hard way.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    I then got to my feet and dusted myself off. ¡°I bet that was fun watching me suffer. You really don¡¯t intend on helping me, do you?¡±


    ¡°First off, yes, it was very entertaining watching you try so hard on the easiest part.¡±


    ¡°Easiest?¡±


    ¡°And second,¡± he ignored me, ¡°don¡¯t blame this on me, like you always do. You¡¯re the one who was all puffed up and began climbing without me. This one is on you.¡±


    I just shook my head. ¡°So how close are we to your den?¡± I asked. ¡°That was a long climb, so I¡¯m assuming we¡¯re almost there.¡±


    Hunter erupted in laughter, almost to an exaggerated point.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said, calming down, ¡°but that wasn¡¯t long at all¡ªmaybe ten minutes, max. We still got a few more walls to go.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me like this,¡± I said in the most solemn, serious, and tormented way possible. That was probably the most sincere thing I had said in my entire life.


    ¡°When will you learn?¡± he playfully teased. ¡°I haven¡¯t lied to ya yet.¡± He then looked up towards the next painful part of the adventure. ¡°Well, no time like the present.¡± He then jumped up on the wall and stuck to it like a spider. It seemed almost too natural. Looking down back at me, he said, ¡°Follow me if you don¡¯t want to get lost.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± I mumbled, grabbing a part of the mountain that was slightly below him.


    We then continued to climb up the mountain for the next hour, dodging and weaving around certain spots that Hunter deemed ¡°unclimbable¡±. We would continue in a straight path, and then Hunter would stop and leap to the side. The way he would effortlessly let go of his only safety net, completely confident that the mountain would catch him before the world tried to drag him down was something that gave me a renewed sense of inspiration. I tried to emulate it, but every time that I did, I would almost fall to my death. By some stroke of luck or from my immense and sudden will to live, I would desperately hold onto the rock face before my balance was completely lost. And every time that failure happened, Hunter, instead of laughing, would slightly reprimand me from above. Besides those instances, the rest of the climb was completely controlled by Hunter, and I simply had to follow¡ªwhich was harder than it looked for me. The fact that he got to look down on me was something that ate away at me. However, halfway through the climb, it didn''t seem to bother me as much.


    About halfway up the cliff, I randomly asked him a question. I wasn¡¯t sure what compelled me to do so. I simply blamed it on my growing, unusual comfort.


    ¡°You said you used to play on these cliffs, right?¡± I asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± he absentmindedly responded, rubbing his hand on the rugged wall, completely focused on it.


    ¡°How was that allowed? Surely your mother wouldn¡¯t have let a kid climb around. Or is it something that the fanged do?¡±


    He stopped. ¡°I mean,¡± he started to say, ¡°it¡¯s no more dangerous than what you did. You were a kid when you started to be a Slayer, right?¡±


    ¡°Not by choice,¡± I answered.


    ¡°Oh, right.¡± He then moved up a few feet and I followed. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    We then shimmied a little to the left, avoiding an obvious patch of loose rubble. Thankfully, because I was watching him, I didn¡¯t fall victim to it.


    ¡°My mom didn¡¯t like it when I did all the dangerous stuff,¡± he continued, ¡°but Father insisted that I had to learn.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked, casually readjusting my hand positions.


    Hunter moved a bit to the right and then took a rather large leap upwards, barely catching the lip of a jutted-out rock. ¡°He said that if I couldn¡¯t do it, then I might as well be as good as dead,¡± he answered. ¡°He¡¯s a bastard.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like it.¡± I then climbed up a few more feet straight up. ¡°But this world is harsh and you have to be strong to survive it.¡±


    ¡°My mom didn¡¯t think so,¡± Hunter replied in the most calming, soft tone I had heard yet. ¡°As much as I want to agree with you, my mom¡¯s words can¡¯t leave my mind.¡±


    ¡°What words?¡±


    He looked straight down at me with the most sincere, nostalgic, and beautiful eyes I had ever seen. The lightning-like, tortuous color was replaced with a delicate, dandelion yellow.


    ¡°All life is precious,¡± he answered. ¡°She always believed that and so do I.¡± He then continued to climb up.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that.¡±


    ¡°I know you don¡¯t.¡±


    There was a bit of a nightly silence that crept up after that. It wasn¡¯t tense, nor was it sad. In fact, I wasn¡¯t sure if it had any emotion to it. The best way I would describe it would be hollow. It was an empty silence, devoid of meaning. No, that¡¯s not quite right. The nothingness within the silence said more than anything could¡ªit showed the distance still between us.


    Then, suddenly, the air changed and there was a slightly warm breeze that ran down from the mountain. Even if it was only for a second, I felt its heat-filled embrace.


    ¡°Sebastian, we¡¯re here!¡± Hunter called out.


    We climbed up for a few more minutes before reaching a ledge that was wider and longer than any of the others we stopped on. It was mostly empty, although I could only see part of it, seeing as the moonlight from above only partially lit it up. The one thing that I couldn¡¯t not see was the vacuous hole that was carved into the side of the mountain. It opened up like a toothy maw, waiting to devour any that dared to carelessly walk into it. However, Hunter easily walked right up to the mouth of the cave.


    ¡°You ready?¡± he asked me.


    ¡°Are you?¡± I countered.


    ¡°Fair enough.¡±


    We then took our first step inside, together. The cave itself wasn¡¯t anything special, but that¡¯s exactly what terrified me. There was an ominous sense of familiarity that just wouldn''t settle within me. The walls were made of a stone that was not unlike that of which we just climbed, the only difference being the dampness of them. While the ones on the outside were exposed to weather¡ªwhittling them down and making them more jagged¡ªthe ones within the caves were slick and slightly wet. It might¡¯ve been that added moisture in the air and in the rocks that caused the temperature within the walls to drop down suddenly. Superficial difference aside, I was more afraid of the darkness that swallowed up any semblance of visibility.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Why am I shaking? I asked myself. It¡¯s just the dark. It¡¯s just your sight. You¡¯ve functioned plenty of times without it.


    We continued to walk forward, and Hunter started to take the lead again.


    What¡¯s the difference? What¡¯s the difference? What¡¯s the difference?


    I soon found my answer. Almost without warning, figures began to emerge from out of the dark. The lithe, slender creatures looked at me with eyes of distrust and hesitation. When they landed on Hunter, however, their expressions looked the same, but the emotion surrounding those eyes¡ªthose yellow eyes¡ªspelled curiosity instead of fear. They all had the same, monstrous eyes to them, even the little spawns of evil that hid behind some of the larger ones¡¯ legs.


    As we descended deeper into the tunneling veins of the mountain, something that caught me a bit off guard began to happen: it started to get brighter. There were metal-caged flames that were mounted against the wall. What puzzled me was how the flames inside moved with an almost rhythmic pattern. They were trapped within black-iron fencing, maybe about a foot or so in diameter, and there didn¡¯t seem to be anything that itself was on fire. It was like the flames existed all on their own. To me, it seemed barbaric. I didn¡¯t understand it.


    As if those lights shone them into existence, I began to see more fanged. Some of them were slumped against the walls, some of them sat around or laid down on the crude-looking ¡°furniture¡± that was sparsely scattered through the tunnels, and others stood around and plotted. There was not a single moment that I let my eyes off of them.


    Eventually, I saw one of them dare to approach us. As they did, I instinctively reached back for my sword, although I did not pull it out. This fanged seemed to be more masculine, even through his famished frame, and had scraggly hair similar to Hunter¡¯s. The only difference was Hunter¡¯s seemed wild and free, while this figure¡¯s hair seemed unkept and lost.


    ¡°Hunter,¡± the figure started to ask, ¡°is that you?¡± His voice was higher than I expected, but just as rough. It was like glass raked across sand.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Hunter replied. ¡°What¡¯s going on? It seems even worse than before.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s actually a lot better than it was,¡± the fanged answered. ¡°You¡¯ve been gone for a long time; things changed a lot.¡±


    ¡°How could it have been worse?¡±


    The fanged man didn¡¯t answer with his words, he simply looked to the side.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Hunter said, seemingly understanding.


    They then continued to have a small back-and-forth conversation that I didn¡¯t pay any attention to. As their words turned into mumbles, I looked down at my jacket pocket to see how beautiful my flower looked. To my surprise, it was uglier than I remembered. It was dark, like the shadows that clung to the cave walls, and it continued to stay unbloomed. Honestly, it seemed almost locked in place, refusing to bloom for me. Or maybe it was I who refused to let it bloom. It was hard for me to even tell anymore at that point. My attention then snapped back to the two fanged men.


    ¡°Why did you come back?¡± the fanged asked, still looking away, ¡°Especially after so long.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Hunter started to reply, shaking his head a bit, ¡°...we need to talk to Father.¡±


    Before the fanged answered, his head tilted when Hunter spoke the words ¡°we¡± and then his slithering eyes snapped right towards me. They narrowed even further as they looked upon me. There was a starved intensity behind them, but one that had no action left in them. It was a look that I knew all too well, but one that I hadn¡¯t seen in a long time. It was hopeless hate.


    While he stared at me, I got a better look at his appearance as a whole. He was pale¡­extremely pale. It was as if the sun had abandoned his skin a hundred years ago. It was much different than Hunter¡¯s, who I already thought was as white as snow. In fact, Hunter¡¯s skin seemed as tan as a burned saddle compared to this man. His teeth were slightly rotted and twisted, much like his gaze.


    ¡°What¡¯s someone like him doing here?¡± the fanged asked.


    ¡°He¡¯s my, uh¡­¡± Hunter hesitated, ¡°...friend.¡±


    Instantly, the fanged¡¯s eyes opened wide and they were left agasp as they found their way back to Hunter, much like mine¡ªalthough his eyes had much more surprise and disgust to them. The fanged then bounced his gaze back and forth between me and Hunter a few times before settling on Hunter, although he would occasionally glance back at me as he spoke.


    ¡°So, you want to talk to Father, huh?¡± the fanged asked. ¡°Well, that might be a bit difficult.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Hunter followed up.


    ¡°We kind of got rid of him.¡±


    Hunter took a step back. ¡°Really?¡± He then chuckled a bit and shook his head, although his laugh was more uncomfortable than it normally was. ¡°It¡¯s about time you realized how crazy he was. He was a madman, driven by one thing¡ªhe was going to ruin you all.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±


    I then stepped up next to Hunter. ¡°So did you kill him?¡± I simply asked.


    With a devilishly sheepish look, the fanged man responded, ¡°No¡­we couldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Then where is he?¡± Hunter asked, a bit more desperate.


    ¡°In his room,¡± the fanged answered, motioning his head forward, ¡°locked away. He¡¯s been there for years. I would say that he¡¯s for sure dead, but we can hear him every night, screaming out the same nonsense that we understand. The only thing keeping him alive is his madness.¡±


    Hunter and I looked at each other. There was a confused, conflicted look plastered all over his face. I could almost see it split in two; one side trying to bolt for the exit, and one side clawing its way deeper in. Eventually, he slapped his face and looked at me with a look of resolve. We nodded our heads in silent agreement and continued forward, leaving the other fanged man behind. For the rest of the journey, which only lasted a few more minutes, I continued to rub my valrose in some sort of vain hope.


    And then we arrived. What seemed like a normal, if not slightly saturated, wooden door, was marked with heavy signs of conflict. There were cuts, claw marks, and bludgeoned cracks littered all throughout it. If that wasn¡¯t enough to set it apart from anything else, there were black-iron chains that entangled it, connected to various hooked pikes that were deeply embedded into the walls. The door itself had a central lock affixed to it that all the chains ran through before going out, like a spiderweb, to the pikes.


    I began to walk towards the door and unsheathe my sword. Just as it fully came out, I felt a hand somewhat forcibly pull on my jacket.


    ¡°Stop,¡± Hunter demanded. ¡°That¡¯s not going to solve anything.¡±


    He then stepped in front of me with some vigor, flexing both of his hands. I saw the veins on them instantly swell up as he forced his fingernails to extend a few inches past what seemed natural. They were long, thin, and jaggedly razor-like at the ends.


    He approached the giant lock and got down on one knee. He stuck one finger from each hand in the lock and moved them around. One of them jiggled around in the tumbler more, while the other seemed steady as it ever so gently pressed against the outer edge of the lock. What was strange was how his hands were tense, but his movements were graceful. Within a matter of seconds, a loud, metallic click rang and reverberated through the caves, as the lock detached itself from the chains and fell to the ground.


    I saw Hunter stand up, still facing away from me, and take a deep breath in. I walked up to him and faced the door. Placing a hand on the ruined door, I pushed it open. As I did, any last threads of integrity that kept it standing were snapped, and the door, rather than swinging open, fell on its back with an echoing thud.


    I took a step forward, but Hunter did not. I turned to look at him and saw that his entire body was frozen in place. His eyes were glazed over and wide, his teeth were clenched, and his muscles were tensed and locked.


    ¡°Come on,¡± I said to him.


    ¡°I¡­¡± Hunter tried to say.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked with a curious glance, ¡°It¡¯s just one guy.¡±


    ¡°All it takes is one person.¡± Hunter¡¯s sight was somewhere else, both in space and time.


    I took a step back towards him.


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± Hunter continued to ramble, his consciousness seemingly coming in and out of reality. ¡°I thought I could, but I can¡¯t. I told you who I was. I can¡¯t do it. I¡¯m not like you.¡±


    ¡°Hunter,¡± I strongly stated, placing both of my hands on his shoulders and looking dead in his quivering eyes, ¡°snap out of it.¡±


    He blinked a few times before the layer of frost that found its way over his eyes melted away. He then looked back up at me.


    ¡°Come on,¡± I repeated, ¡°I¡¯m not going to get any answers from him if you aren¡¯t there.¡±


    Hunter nodded and followed me inside.


    The room was dark. It was musty. It was old. And most of all, it reeked of an invisible stench. Not one that my nose could pick up on, but one that my very soul inhaled and twitched upon smelling it. What made it so unnerving for me was how familiar it was. It felt like every morning for me, but if I had lived another thousand more suns¡ªit was the natural progression of myself.


    Along the walls, barely peeking through the shadows made by the dim light from outside the room, were markings on the walls. The ones near the front of the room, where I was, were shaped and amateurishly constructed. However, there was intent and clear vision behind them. Some of the markings were images of humanoids with exaggerated fangs and others were tiny humanoids, devoid of any features. As I continued to look along the wall, gradually making my way towards the back, those shapes began to break down. Only a few of them were vaguely humanoid¡ªmost of them were scratch marks, crazily slashed on the wall. The further back I went, the less they made sense. They looked more like the scrawlings of a child.


    When my eyes and body arrived at the very back, I saw something that instantly made my senses heighten. I quickly reached for my blade but stopped halfway through the motion. In front of me, surrounded by bloodstained, scraggled lines, bound by black-iron chains, was a man. Or at least what seemed to be left of one.


    His hair was so long that I couldn¡¯t find an end to it; it fell to the ground, where it gathered in one, large pile. His face was completely covered by that hair. His body was pressed against the back wall, sitting not so comfortably on the floor. His hands and feet were locked in place, leaving only his head to be ¡°free¡±. Just as we approached him, like an undead, his head snapped up in our direction.


    ¡°You! Why? Who!?¡± he cried out. He then began to cackle.


    Hunter grabbed onto my jacket. ¡°F¡­Father?¡± he gently asked, his voice conflicted and torn.


    The man stopped his nonsensical noises and immediately focused on Hunter. ¡°Yes? That is me.¡±


    ¡°Is it?¡±


    Father cocked his head to the side, causing the hair to slightly part to one side. This revealed a single, dulled, yellow eye.


    ¡°So, you came back, eh?¡± he said. His voice was sharp, jagged, and wispy like a hollow wind. ¡°Why don¡¯t you let me out already? I¡¯m tired of being here.¡±


    Hunter shook his head. ¡°I can¡¯t¡­this is where you belong.¡±


    Father struggled a bit against the chains, causing them to clank against each other. The sound filled the chamber.


    ¡°How could you say that? My own flesh and blood?¡± He then let out a sound that was neither a sigh nor howl. ¡°You sound just like them.¡±


    He then shifted his head towards me, staring at me with his single eye. The moment our sight met, I saw his body try to instinctually lounge out towards me, only held back by his own bindings. Even still, I saw some of the wall behind him shake and crack.


    ¡°You¡­¡± he hissed. ¡°You let one in. You let one in.¡± With his head still facing my direction, he moved his gaze over towards Hunter. ¡°I warned you what will happen!¡± He struggled even harder. ¡°They''re going to take everything from me again. They don¡¯t know restraint, only greed and hate. AND I HATE THEM!¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Hunter asked.


    ¡°They¡¯re all the same, even back then. There¡¯s not a single good one. They want us dead. They want everyone else dead. And I won¡¯t let them.¡±


    ¡°Are you talking about humans?¡±


    ¡°Who else!?¡± Even though his body seemed to be nothing but skin and bones, when he said that, I saw muscles flex and apparate onto his body from out of nowhere. ¡°What other race has bloodlust like them!? Who do you think drove us out of our home? Who forced us to hide in fear, living in these DARK CAVES!¡± His body then rocked back and forth, pulling each and every chain taut.


    ¡°Father, they are not like that. You do not know that.¡±


    Suddenly coming to a complete stop, Father replied with an unnerving calmness, ¡°I know it all too well. You and your mother will meet the same fate that I did. Mark my words.¡±


    ¡°You do not know them like I do!¡±


    ¡°Oh really?¡± he pressed, his voice eerily solemn. His head then slithered in my direction. ¡°What about this one? Even he still wears that hell-made flower¡ªthat blood-blooming rose. Even he wears what hunted us down all those centuries ago. Even he wears that same hate. Nothing has changed.¡±


    I looked down and saw that the valrose was fully bloomed, stretching itself to an extent I had never seen before.


    ¡°Sebastian, is that true?¡± Hunter asked.


    But I didn¡¯t answer him. I was too focused on the dark mirror in front of me. Oh, how badly I wanted to break it. I felt the valrose reach out towards Father and beg me to strangle him. Its hauntingly beautiful petals sang to me a song of familiar transgressions. Like me, it seemed to find itself in a common crossroad. But unlike it, I had not yet made up my mind.


    In a few seconds, I imaged dozens of scenes over and over again. I thought of every possible way I could cut that man down with a single swing of my blade. I thought about in vivid detail what it would feel like to crush his bones and shatter his body. I saw the crimson bloodsoaked floor in front me, forming from the dripping wounds of his decapitated head. That would stop the poison that he spouted¡ªpoison that I tasted every day.


    But I couldn¡¯t do it. Something fundamentally was different inside of me. There were parts of an old self that tried to get the rest of my body to move in a way that it had thousands of times in the past, but the rest of myself wouldn¡¯t obey. I had somewhat noticed the slow changes within me, but I never paid them any mind nor did I understand them¡­not until that very moment. The moment I laid eyes on the madman in front me, everything became clear. And it hurt.


    I turned around without a word and walked out of the room. I heard Hunter say something in my direction, but I didn¡¯t hear what. What I did hear, however, was a final plea of a desperate man.


    ¡°Come back here!¡± Father called out. ¡°I won¡¯t let you touch my people! I will crush you with my own hands, like I did with so many others!¡±


    I remained silent, and I just continued to make my way out of the cave. I walked past the starved people; past the children that played in a sorrowfully optimistic way; past the suffering men and women that were slumped against the walls; past all of those people who were abandoned by their leader, who favored his own hate more than the care of them. Eventually, I found myself back at the entrance, looking out over a brightly moonlit valley below. It was beautiful. It was serene. It was larger than I thought¡ªit was like the world itself finally opened itself up to me. And most of all, it was freeing. There was a sense of weightless freedom that coursed through my body.


    Running up behind me, I heard a familiar voice call out.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Hunter said. ¡°We still haven¡¯t asked about your parents. Isn¡¯t that why we¡¯re here? Don¡¯t you want to know?¡±


    Still looking out towards the peaceful night, I took a deep, relieving breath. ¡°No,¡± I answered, ¡°I have all the answers I need.¡±

 Chapter 9

    The night was starting to come to an end by the time we reached the bottom of the mountain. The climb down was quicker, cleaner, and freer. I didn¡¯t need Hunter¡¯s guidance and he didn¡¯t need to follow me. Silently, we both made our way down, separate but together. It was like our minds were acting as one. We jumped and fell in jagged unison, even though we never said a word.


    Once we reached the base, just a few minutes away from the edge of the forest, we stopped for a moment. We didn¡¯t need to catch our breath or take a break for any physical reason, but we still stopped.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± we both asked at the same time.


    I was surprised, and I could tell from his open eyes and mouth that Hunter felt the same. I took a couple seconds to gather myself before speaking again.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± I answered. ¡°And also, we should probably get in the forest soon¡ªit¡¯s going to be morning.¡±


    Hunter wordlessly nodded and we both entered the forest just as the first rays of light began to break through the waking sky. As we walked through a familiar trail, I noticed that the trees seemed more animated and full of life. The vines that occasionally hung down swung loose and free. When given an ounce of light, the bark of each tree glimmered with beautiful moisture. Even the leaves danced, brushing with the perpetual breeze. When I realized that the wind was back, I listened closely.


    It sang a beautiful tune, and for once, I could understand it. It started off slow, almost melancholy-like, before starting to sway and bounce in a subtle manner. At first, I thought of the melody like a hymn, but as I became more entrenched in the song, the more esoteric it became. I felt the breeze reverberate inside of me, attempting to make me one with it. And as it did, I felt a sense of direction unlike anything I had felt before. It was like a hug that I felt throughout my entire being.


    Before I knew it, I felt an outside force yanking on my arm. Snapping back to reality, I quickly glanced to my left and found Hunter tugging at my arm. I looked at him with a confused and slightly dazed look, which he replied with a softly surprised one.


    ¡°What¡¯s up, Hunter?¡± I asked.


    ¡°The sky,¡± he sarcastically replied. ¡°But really, I¡¯ve been trying to get you to stop moving so I can actually guide you through here. But now that I think about it,¡± he looked around, ¡°we have been going the right way.¡±


    ¡°Huh. Funny how that works out.¡±


    I then began to take another step forward, but not before being interrupted by him.


    ¡°Also,¡± he interjected.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s morning now¡ªI think we should rest.¡±


    I nodded in agreement and we spent the next hour looking for a dark and comfortable enough location to rest. What we found was a grassy grove that seemed almost carved out of the forest. There was a ten-foot wide patch of grass that was surrounded by trees and brush. It was impossible to see or even know that it was there just by looking at it, but the wind blew in such a way that the slightest crack of the grove peeked through behind the swaying brush.


    We set up a small, recluse campsite in the middle of the hidden clearing. We didn¡¯t bother lighting a fire, both because we had nothing that we wanted to cook and because the space was already warm enough.


    Just as we got settled in, I looked at Hunter and said, ¡°I think we should take watches.¡±


    ¡°Watches?¡± he replied.


    I adjusted myself against a tree. ¡°Yeah. You sleep for part of the day while I keep a lookout for anything, and then I sleep for part of the day while you do the same.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± he hesitated, ¡°...I guess we can do that.¡± His face, the entire time he said that, was perplexed, to say the least. ¡°Soooo who¡¯s going first?¡±


    ¡°I can,¡± I firmly answered. ¡°Go ahead and sleep.¡±


    ¡°O¡­kay.¡±


    Although it took him a moment, he eventually curled up in a ball and fell asleep. I, on the other hand, feeling refreshed and full of energy, continued to look around the vicinity. That being said, it was just an excuse for me to get lost in my own thoughts. I had so many new things to sort out in my head.


    What is this lightness? I asked myself. And why is it so much easier to see in the dark?


    I looked up in the direction of the sky, which I could only imagine was there, seeing as the canopy above was dense. It reminded me of how my mind was just a few hours before. Even now, it¡¯s hard to describe the difference that I felt. It was like someone, who had gone their whole life with fog in front of their face, finally seeing a clear day. It was like that, but also it felt like what I imagined being a bird was like¡ªlight, free, and above the world, seeing for the first time how small it all is.


    My head began to spin around a single image of Hunter, and it drew me closer to it. I then saw the ethereal light of his mother. As her face filled my sight, I stared deep into her darkened eyes, which I found comfort in. Before I knew it, I was already deep inside her pupils. Quickly, I then found my vision thrusted through twisting, dark, and familiar caverns. I flew by the sorrow-filled faces of those who were forced to live there. I saw the people that sat around and wasted the days away, forced to cower from the world, and forced to pretend that they don¡¯t exist. And finally, my vision came upon a man, or what was once a man, bound by black-iron chains. The entirety of his face was covered in shadow, and when I peeled that darkness back, I saw my own face. But it was distorted and twisted with the visage of the past.


    Instead of fear, I only felt pity when looking at that face. Maybe it was because I had already come face to face with it, but the initial shock of that dark mirror didn¡¯t take hold within my mind anymore. In fact, I already felt myself moving further away from the image. I felt that it was only a matter of time before I was someone different than that of which I was gazing upon. When I thought about myself in that light, I stopped feeling the flames of hatred in my heart.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I heard a voice call out.


    I pulled away from the chained man.


    ¡°Hey,¡± the voice repeated.


    I turned around.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I saw Hunter say to me, looking me directly in the eyes. ¡°It¡¯s your turn.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I replied, shaking my head.


    I looked around and found myself back in the forest. Normally I would know when in the day it was, but at that moment, my internal clock was all out of rhythm for some reason. I didn¡¯t linger on that thought for too long, but it still left a bit of an impact¡ªjust like every other part of me that was changing.


    ¡°Oh, right,¡± I said, remembering our watching shifts.


    I then laid down and turned over, facing my back towards Hunter. I let my eyes close from their own weight. It seemed much more natural. There wasn''t an ounce of hesitation from me nor my body. I was comfortable.


    Just before I drifted to the realm of the unconscious, I heard Hunter speak up. ¡°Hold on, I wanna ask ya something before you fall asleep,¡± he said.


    ¡°Hm?¡± I replied, still teetering on the edge of sleep.


    ¡°I, uh,¡± he stuttered, ¡°I was wondering, uh, why am I alive?¡±


    Still in a bit of a tired daze, I answered, ¡°I don¡¯t know, ask your mother.¡±


    While I couldn¡¯t see him, I could feel the confused energy radiating from his subtle, sporadic movement that started right after I responded to him.


    ¡°That¡¯s not¡­¡± he started to say, fumbling his words. ¡°I know you want to kill me, and I just kinda figured that you were gonna do it when I was asleep.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care anymore,¡± I responded. My body was slowly becoming more numb, and in that numbness, my outer shell was gone, leaving only the most sensitive parts of myself exposed. It¡¯s said that a drunk man¡¯s words are a sober man¡¯s thoughts. But I believe that the more accurate phrase is that a sleeping man¡¯s thoughts are an honest man¡¯s words


    ¡°W-W-W-What???¡± he rapidly said. ¡°How? Why?¡±


    On the precipice of sleep, I said, ¡°I like you. I¡¯m just like¡­¡± My words trailed off into incoherency. Just as the last glimmer of consciousness slipped away from my grasp, I heard Hunter continue to stammer about.


    ¡°You can¡¯t just say something like that! You¡¯re not mak¡­and what ab¡­the end of¡­¡±


    ***


    Throughout the next two days, we traveled through the forest and across the open plains of the grasslands that surrounded Varunia. Although some moments were calm and other moments were a bit awkward, there was not a single instance of tension. There was banter, there were jokes, there was silent travel, and there were things to behold. The journey back felt so different than the one to the den. Even now, I cannot describe it with words. Nothing ¡°special¡± happened during it, but it felt magical all the same. There was simplicity to the magic, and emotion to the simplicity. That time, however short it was, felt like an eternity of contentment. There was a familiar spark shared between us as we wandered through our small part of the world. And in my sincerity¡ªand my honesty¡ªI can say that I truly cared about him.


    One instance of that spark being somewhat ignited was the night after we slept in watches. After about an hour or so of walking¡ªand Hunter giving me the weirdest glares¡ªwe finally spoke to each other.


    ¡°So what did you mean by that?¡± Hunter finally asked.


    ¡°About what?¡± I said, cutting down some of the shrubbery in front of us.


    He then wormed his way next to me with a neutral frown. ¡°Last night,¡± he stated, ¡°you said that you don¡¯t want to kill me because you ¡®like¡¯ me. What in the hell does that mean?¡±


    I stopped for a second. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about,¡± I replied, before continuing to walk forwards through my newly-carved path.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t play this stupid game,¡± Hunter sighed. ¡°You always answer in vague riddles or lies. ¡°So which is it this time? Or will you actually give me a straight answer? Hm?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about and I wouldn¡¯t have said that. How could someone like you? You¡¯re an annoying little brat.¡±


    ¡°Says the guy who pouts like a child,¡± Hunter jabbed.


    Turning around, I replied, ¡°I¡¯m twenty-three, idiot. I¡¯m not a child.¡±


    As I managed to turn completely around and look at him, I saw that his eyes were wider than I ever thought possible. His mouth was hung open and his face curled in shocked disgust.


    ¡°Twenty three!?¡± he yelled. ¡°Damn, time really doesn¡¯t do everyone justice.¡±


    I fulred my eyebrows at him and cocked my head. ¡°Look who¡¯s talking, you little shit,¡± I fired back.


    ¡°I¡¯m an adult, too, you know?¡± Hunter responded with a sly smile. He then rubbed one hand on his chin in a very flamboyant and showoffish manner. ¡°I¡¯m nineteen.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I laughed, ¡°nineteen months¡­maybe.¡±


    There was a pause, like the calm before a storm. Then we burst out laughing. I didn¡¯t know why, but unlike the times we jabbed at each other on the way to the den, there was no tension between our words; no malice in them. From that moment on, there was a sort of levity to our casual conversations. We talked a lot, but about very little. There were many examples of small, playful talks between us during that journey back, but none that ignited like that one.


    At the beginning of the last night of the last leg of our journey, we found ourselves sitting on top of a massive hill that overlooked the grassy plains. In the distance, lit up by the full moon, was the small town that we called home. Behind us were the towering crags of the twisted mountains, and in front of us were many houses, clustered together. Behind them, like the backdrop of a nice play, were the stars of the night sky. The dark hues of purple radiated into pinks and oranges. All of those colors were further accentuated by the shine of the distant lights that populated the sky. There was even a comet or two that flew by. It was a grand sight that made me realize how tiny my world really was. It was clearer more than ever at that point. There was not a single cloud in the sky, and those stars were allowed to shine and twinkle as much as they wanted.


    We rested on that hill, silently basking in the beauty of the world¡ªand it looked prettier than ever to me. Eventually, I was the one who broke the silence.


    ¡°You know,¡± I said to Hunter, staring out into the great beyond, ¡°the night sky has never looked like this to me.¡±


    ¡°It usually looks like this to me, but sometimes there are cloudy nights, too,¡± Hunter responded in a nostalgic tone.


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± I sighed, ¡°...I hope those clouds are behind me.¡±


    ¡°I think the first time I ever saw the sky like this was when I left the den with my mother. Actually, I think we sat on this hill. Ain¡¯t that funny?¡±


    ¡°What are the odds?¡± I chuckled.


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s fate?¡± Hunter proposed.


    I took a second to answer. ¡°Maybe,¡± I finally said. ¡°I¡¯ve never believed in such a thing. But how else could I explain all of this?¡±


    ¡°Exactly, I feel the same way. I feel like maybe there¡¯s something greater out there¡ªsomething just outta reach.¡± I looked over as he said that and saw him lying on the ground, arms outstretched upwards.


    ¡°You think there¡¯s something bigger than God, herself?¡± I asked, still staring at him.


    He didn¡¯t look at me and continued to gaze at the stars. ¡°I feel like there¡¯s gotta be. Everything seems so big out there, bigger than this place. I mean look at how small those stars look. I don¡¯t think they¡¯re actually small, just far away. And look at all those colors! That must be where Imora got her colors. They surround this planet every night, and yet we¡¯ve never touched them. They must be something only God can touch.¡±


    I laid down and moved my arms towards the night sky. ¡°But we always reach for them.¡±


    I turned onto my side just as he was doing the same. We looked into each other''s eyes and smiled.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Hunter said. ¡°We always do.¡±


    I simply kept my smile up in response.


    ¡°One day, I want to reach them,¡± he calmly said. ¡°I want to go beyond them and be with them. Honestly,¡± he sighed, ¡°I just want to know why everything happens the way it does.¡± Tears began to subtly form on the corner of his eyes. ¡°I just want there to be a reason for it, ya know? I don¡¯t want all this pain to be for nothing. I don¡¯t want it all to be pointless.¡±


    ¡°Maybe there is,¡± I genuinely answered, ¡°maybe there isn''t. But either way, we gotta keep reaching for them. If there¡¯s one thing I can thank my younger years for, it¡¯s that I learned that you always have to keep fighting, no matter how painful.¡±


    Hunter turned over on his back and said, ¡°It¡¯s hard, you know?¡±


    ¡°It really is,¡± I replied, doing the same. ¡°It¡¯s even harder for me now, because I¡¯ll always know what the night could look like. I¡¯ll always have this image in my head.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±


    We continued to lay there for what seemed like both a minute and a day. Time didn¡¯t exist while we were up there, and honestly, I didn¡¯t want it to ever come back. But all good things must come to an end. With a synchronized nod, we both stood up and made our way towards Varunia.


    ***


    It was about an hour before the sun would greet the land, and there was a slight mist that hung low, just beneath our knees. We just walked through the open gates of the town, and found that there really wasn¡¯t anyone standing guard. In addition, I didn¡¯t hear any birds singing that morning, which was rare enough on its own. What was more strange was the distinct desolace of the town. It wasn¡¯t empty, but there wasn¡¯t the usual crowd of night-lovers out and about. There was a hollowness to the end of the night.


    Hunter and I looked at each other, and I could tell that we both were feeling the same thing. There was an unspoken connection of mutual understanding made at that moment. One that wasn¡¯t made from fear, but one that meant that we would both be even more vigilant.


    Step by step, each footstep echoed against the night-washed houses, reverberating against the stone road that we were walking on. It was about ten minutes or so into our travel within the town that the mist grew slightly denser, clinging to our bodies like a scared child. The further into Varunia we got, the colder it got. There was mourning dew that hung from each of the hanging plants in the central plaza. In that light, I could¡¯ve sworn that they were deader than before.


    ¡°A bit quiet, isn¡¯t it?¡± Hunter said with a bit of chilled frost exiting his mouth.


    My eyes didn¡¯t look at him, but instead they looked around our immediate vicinity. I replied, ¡°It is.¡±


    We then took a left out of the central hub, and continued on a straight path towards Bram¡¯s place. Because of how tucked away it was, we had to navigate around a few alleyways. Nothing about them seemed out of place¡ªwe passed a few stray animals, a bunch of trash and broken things that have long lost their identity, and a single man who was slumped against a wall, unmoving. I began to walk past the man, but something in the back of my head drew me back to him. Just as I was turning back around, I felt Hunter¡¯s hand grab my shoulder.


    ¡°Do you think we should¡ª¡± he started to say.


    ¡°I already planned on it,¡± I cut him off.


    I then walked up to the unmoving man and looked at him. He was a human, probably in his forties¡ªalthough his time outside could¡¯ve made him look older than he was¡ªand he had a grizzled beard that hung a bit past the middle of his neck. His eyes were shut and in his hand was a glass jug.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± I asked him, gently prodding his shoulder.


    ¡°Yo, you good?¡± Hunter added.


    After a few seconds, the man began to come to. His eyes flickered a bit and he groaned. He leaned a bit up from the wall he was up against. After taking a large, raspy sigh, he asked with a mumble, ¡°Whadya want? And whadds da¡­¡±


    ¡°I was asking if you were alright,¡± I repeated, a bit more stern than before.


    ¡°Neva better,¡± he answered.


    ¡°Well, ok then.¡±


    I began to pull away, but just as I did, Hunter kneeled down and began talking to the man.


    ¡°If you need a place to stay, you can come with us,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯re almost at my place now.¡±


    ¡°Nah imma¡­¡± the man stuttered, ¡°I¡¯m good.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? It¡¯s right over there.¡± Hunter then pointed down the alley towards where we were walking.


    ¡°If it¡¯s ova there, then,¡± he hiccupped, ¡°I hope it ain¡¯t destroyed by the mob.¡±


    Hunter pulled back for a second. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    The man adjusted his position and looked Hunter directly in the eyes. ¡°Have ya not heard a damn thing? Dat was all the rage last night¡­¡± the man looked around, ¡®...or maybe it was two nights ago.¡±


    ¡°There was a mob? What did they want? What were they doing?¡± The panic in Hunter¡¯s voice rose with every sentence.


    ¡°I gots no idea. They were angry and loud sons of nuns, though. I couldn''t get a wink o¡¯ sleep. They stormed by and I think they looted that old inn ova there,¡± he said, pointing in the same direction we were heading.


    Hunter immediately pulled away and stood straight up. He looked at me with wide eyes, whose yellowness was sparking with uncontrollable energy. I saw his nostrils flare up and his breathing began to intensify. Without saying anything, he took off in a dead sprint towards Bram¡¯s place.


    I tried to follow him, but he was just too good at running¡ªit was all he really knew how to do. I bobbed and weaved around every broken piece of furniture, jumped over every abandoned item, and kept my eyes focused on the man that was slowly making his way further and further away from me. I did eventually lose sight of him through the various alley curves and straightways, but I knew where I was going.


    Eventually, I ended up in front of Bram¡¯s place, or what was left of it. Every window was smashed, the front door was comepley missing, and there were many slash and burn marks on the exterior. While the building didn¡¯t look pristine when I first came there, it has more of an abandoned or hidden aesthetic to it¡ªnow, it just looked violated. The condition of the house aside, the other, more glaring thing that stuck out was what was in front of the building. In various states of carnage were two humanoid bodies.


    I ran up to those bodies and began inspecting them. Fortunately, they were not people that I recognized. They were two females, both wearing average attire for the town. In both of their hands was a weapon of some sort. The one nearest to me held a shovel, while the other held a pitchfork. However, the one strange thing that they both had in common was not something that they had nor wore¡­it was the bloody mark that ran across their body. At first, it looked like a giant slash from a sword, but that wasn¡¯t quite right. The way it fluidly curved around the body and tore it up made me think of a whip-like weapon. But in my mind, no whip could cause so much damage. The way the body was desecrated by that one, single attack, was enough to fell a person. Whoever did it was powerful and skilled with that weapon.


    I shook my head free of any more thoughts, stopping that train before it went any further. After all, I still hadn¡¯t seen Hunter. And so, I continued to make my way into the abode. Just like before, the interior was lightless, but I could see it more clearly than before. And in that clarity, I saw a horrible sight. In front of me, scattered across the ground, were dozens of corpses. Some were slumped against the wall, while most laid across the ground. Some were partially buried beneath the obliterated furniture, and some were impaled by it. However, like before, I saw that most of them had a similar, burning slash across their body.


    I didn¡¯t stay in that room much longer and, instead, I decided to make my way upstairs to see if Hunter was in his room. I tried to go up the stairs, but even more human carcasses were in my way. At that point I didn¡¯t care anymore, I stomped on them and continued to climb. I felt flesh and bones tear and snap beneath my feet. Oddly enough, it wasn¡¯t an unfamiliar feeling. Eventually, I reached the top and to my unsurprise, I saw even more bodies strewn about. That being said, what did shock me was what I saw lying up against the wall next to Hunter¡¯s room: a familiar man. As I approached the room, my suspicions were confirmed. Surrounded by at least twenty annihilated, unrecognizable bodies, was the dead viage of Bram, whip in hand. He was pinned up against the wall by a pitch fork, and his face torn and slashed. His hat was sitting right beside him, just in front of the door. It was crumpled, like it had been stepped on by a few people, and sitting still. I was drawn to it. And so, I picked it up and put it on. It felt oddly comfortable on my head. In addition, I grabbed his drac whip, holstered it on my side, and thanked his corpse. I then entered the room.


    And there I saw what I feared. Standing still like a statue was Hunter, hovering over his mother¡¯s bed. The window next to it started to beam in a mourning light, seeing as the day was just about to break into the sky. I approached the bed and saw what Hunter¡¯s eyes were fixated on. Lying cold, still, and in tears was his mother. He white, snow-like hair was defiled with streaks of red, and her eyes were nothing but vacuous holes now. As I followed her body down, the means of death was as clear as could be. Pinned against her heart and stabbed through the bed was a single sword. And on that sword, adorning its hilt, was the petal of a valrose.

 Chapter 10

    We stood in the essence of shock. It felt real and like a fantasy all at the same time. The light from the awakening sky was brighter than normal; the shadows on the walls seemed more exaggerated; and the stillness of the silence was unmovable. It was a dream¡ªit had to be one¡­at least that¡¯s what I told myself. But I knew the truth. In fact, I knew it all too well. The scene before me was nostalgically familiar, so the initial shock wore off of me quicker than it would have for most.


    Hunter, on the other hand, was like a stone. I could see it in his face. I could see it in the way his body remained unmoved. And for some reason, I could feel it within his very person. I couldn¡¯t explain it, but through some sort of invisible connection that we shared at that moment, I could almost sense his coldness. Everything about him, at that exact moment, was like a stone: his emotions, his physique, and his soul. However, I knew that it wouldn¡¯t last long.


    ¡°What is this?¡± Hunter absentmindedly said, breaking the silence. His gaze was locked upon the body of his deceased mother.


    ¡°Hunter¡­¡± was all I could say in reply.


    I saw his body beginning to shake. ¡°This is not real.¡± He sharply inhaled. ¡°You¡¯re not seeing this, too, right? Tell me you¡¯re not seeing this. Tell me that it isn''t real.¡±


    I winced a bit and took a deep, calming breath. ¡°No, Hunter, it is real. But you need to¡ª¡±


    ¡°NO!¡± he screamed out, tensing every muscle possible.


    The sound that came out of his mouth pierced my ears and bounced off of every wall. Such a shrill sound caused the air itself to go quiet. The shattered window of the room even quivered in fear. In fact, I was surprised that it didn¡¯t break. And if it didn¡¯t break, then something else had to.


    ¡°Why?¡± Hunter said, still staring forward. ¡°Why? Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy?¡±


    ¡°Hunter!¡± I said, grabbing his shoulders. ¡°You have to calm down. You can¡¯t lose yourself. I know what this is like. Listen to my voice.¡±


    ¡°GET OFF ME!¡± he yelled, pulling away. He then backed himself up against one of the walls, and stumbled to find any semblance of balance. His head continued to look down.


    In the tense stillness that came after the outburst, I started to hear another noise. It took me a second, but I realized that it was staggered breathing and sniffling¡­and it was coming from Hunter. Although I couldn''t see his eyes, I knew that they had to be filled with moisture.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, softening up my words and my demeanor. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about all of this, but I don¡¯t want you to do what I did. I¡¯m sorry for being so forceful.¡±


    ¡°You should be sorry,¡± Hunter said. His tone was different than what I was expecting. There was a hardness and a seething bite behind it. ¡°After all, this is all your fault.¡±


    I took a step back and slightly shook my head. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    Hunter¡¯s head lifted up and his eyes met mine. A chilling, nostalgic, emotion shot down my spine. It took the shape of a memory from both long ago and from a few days ago. What triggered that sensation was not his words, but the yellow, haunting eyes that carried those words into my soul¡ªit was a cold shock. They were eyes that I¡¯ve already seen twice.


    ¡°They did this,¡± Hunter said. ¡°They did this to her. They did this to me.¡±


    Shaking my head and frowning, I replied, ¡°Don¡¯t do this, Hunter. Don¡¯t give in.¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡± He took a step forward. ¡°You''re just as guilty as all the other humans. You helped them do this.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­¡± I tried to argue, but something about my defense caused me to stop. Something about those words rang true, and I couldn¡¯t say anything.


    ¡°If you didn¡¯t make me go with you, if you didn¡¯t threaten me with my life, then I would¡¯ve been here to protect her. You did this to her.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I apologized, ¡°I¡¯m sorry for what I did. But that is not my sword.¡±


    ¡±Not your sword?¡± He then looked over towards the impaling weapon. ¡°Then what is that on the end of the sword, hmm?¡± His twisting fingers then pointed at the hilt of the sword. ¡°Why is there a petal of that flower on there? And why are you still wearing it?¡±


    My breathing began to speed up. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­I-I¡¯m not sure if¡­¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± Hunter cut me off, raising his shaking hand. ¡°I don¡¯t care anymore.¡± He then started to walk towards the body and towards the sword.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do this,¡± I begged. ¡°Don¡¯t do this, Hunter. It¡¯s almost daytime outside.¡±


    He didn¡¯t respond to me with words. Instead, he reached for the blade and put one hand on the hilt.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let them see you during the day,¡± I continued. ¡°Don¡¯t let them see you for what they think you are. There¡¯s still time to make a choice.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he replied, looking back at me, ¡°and I¡¯ve made my choice.¡±


    He then pulled upwards on the blade, dislodging it from where it rested. A spray of blood covered the wall in a streak. The blade itself was crooked and nicked all over¡ªit was malformed both from its inception and from its abuse. In the hands of Hunter, it looked even more twisted.


    ¡°They¡¯re going to pay,¡± he said, looking up at the blade, ¡°and they¡¯re finally going to get what¡¯s coming for them.¡±


    ¡°Please stop,¡± I said to him. ¡°You don¡¯t want this.¡±


    He then snapped his face towards me. In that brief moment, I saw something on his face that I was not expecting. Mixed within his vengeful eyes and his wrathful smile, was a face of distraught and conflict.


    ¡°Then what do I do with this?¡± he countered. ¡°What do I do with this anger?¡±


    ¡°Nothing. You can¡¯t let it control you. The night becomes much darker when you do.¡±


    He gritted his teeth, and as the morning sunlight started to bleed into the room, I saw two of his front  teeth turn into fangs. ¡°I¡¯m not like you. I¡¯ve lived my whole life in the night.¡±


    Just when he said that, he turned around and leaped over the bed and through the shattered window. I just stood there and looked out into the oncoming colors. I have no idea how long I stood there in the stunned aftermath, but it couldn¡¯t have been long. As soon as I shook myself free, my eyes immediately looked at the face of the mother.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said to her. ¡°I can¡¯t make it up to you, but I¡¯ll do my best. I¡¯ll bring your boy back.¡±


    With that, I sprinted out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door. I could feel the dew of the morning and the mist that was there when I first arrived, and they continued to cling to my feet. But even so, I continued onwards.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    I ran all over town, searching for my friend. My heart was beating fast and I could feel it in my throat, pulsing with each step. And each of my steps felt lighter than ever. There was a purpose behind my running and a reason behind what I was hunting. It was a feeling that I didn¡¯t have time to consider, because any thoughts of mine were soaked with adrenaline. With that spike of adrenaline, my senses were heightened beyond even what they were when I was consumed by the angriest fires. With those heightened senses, I eventually managed to find an unfortunate trail that I knew would lead to Hunter.


    It only took a minute or so before I found the start of the trail. Ragdolled against a wall, with their neck completely slit and still running with blood, was the body of an average citizen. I quickly looked at them to see if there was any chance that they could be saved, but they were completely dead. Actually, as I continued to look at them, I realized that they looked familiar to me. It took everything for me not to give in to my anger when I realized that the person in front of me was the drunkard that we met not but an hour ago. I took a second to compose myself, and then continued to follow the bloody trail.


    I passed one body, then another, then another, and then another. The consistency of them continued to increase the more I followed it. Sometimes I would even see a child or another person hover over the dead body, sobbing and crying out in emotional pain. After I heard the first cry, more and more began to fill the town. It was like an ethereal, haunting cry of long-lost souls who were abandoned on the surface of the world, unable to find their way to the heavens.


    Eventually, I found myself running down Memory Lane, which ultimately led me to the central plaza. It was there that I was met with a sight that was more red than anything else. It looked like the paintings of the hells that I would see plastered on church ceilings. Bodies were scattered about, with rivers of fresh blood still snaking their way outwards in all directions. Towards the center of that mess was a short pile of corpses, which had a figure sitting upon it like a throne¡ªa king of death, twiddling a crooked sword.


    ¡°Hunter!¡± I called out. ¡°You have to stop this! Nothing will come from this.¡±


    Hunter then stopped his idle movements and looked up at the sky. Without even looking back at me, he replied, ¡°That¡¯s rich coming from you. I know nothing will come from this, but it¡¯s only fair.¡±


    I took a few steps forward. With each step, I saw the sun peeking up behind each of the houses more and more.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t who you are!¡± I yelled. ¡°I know that.¡±


    Hunter then jumped off the pile and onto his feet. As he turned around, I saw the fidgeting body of his start to make his way over to me. As he did, he stepped into the daylight, and for the first time ever, I saw what he looked like during the day. There were crimson stains that muddied his beautiful hair, and he was more gaunt than I remembered. He had a face of mournful rage¡ªa face of regret and perpetual anger. I wished that I beheld his beauty for the first time during the day when he wasn¡¯t shackled down by hate.


    ¡°Oh really?¡± he finally responded to me. As he talked, he scratched his blade against his own wrist. ¡°I''m exactly who you thought I was. This is what you wanted.¡±


    ¡°This is not what I wanted. The man who did is long dead. This isn¡¯t who you are¡ªI know you now. I know¡ª¡±


    ¡°What do you know!?¡± He shouted with a rapsy, quivering voice. His teeth clattered with every word.


    There was then a pause in our conversation. The only sound was the wind, and it was sad and cold. There was no melody to be heard, only the occasional sound of distant, anguished cries. After a few moments, I saw part of Hunter break.


    ¡°You did this,¡± he said. ¡°This is your fault. You brought this upon us¡­you killed her.¡± As the last of his words left his mouth, I heard the most genuine crack in his voice.


    ¡°...I did¡­you¡¯re right,¡± I admitted. ¡°I manifested this hate. But it¡¯s not too late.¡±


    ¡°It is too late,¡± he coldly stated. ¡°I¡¯ve already made my choice¡­I am a monster.¡±


    I took a step forward. ¡°You are not! It¡¯s never too late to change. Trust me.¡±


    Hunter shook his head and took another step towards me. Slowly, the distance between us began to shrink. With each step he took, a trail of blood marked where he once was, growing longer the closer he got to me. And the closer we got, the stronger the wind blew and the denser the mist became.


    ¡°What else do I have?¡± he asked me, staring deep into my eyes. His eyes then drifted over to the pile of corpses. ¡°You know, even my friends wanted me dead¡­¡± He then looked back at me and flicked the blood off of his hand. ¡°So come on, see me for what I am: a monster.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t anymore.¡±


    ¡°Look at what I¡¯ve done. Look at these bodies!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°Look at my eyes! Hate me! Kill me!¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Liar!¡± he screamed as he charged towards me, sword in one hand and claws extended on the other.


    As he approached, I stood completely still. I never once withdrew my blade nor my whip. He pulled his sword back and plunged it deep into my abdomen. Then, using that running momentum, he leaped onto me and sunk his claw into my chest. The force of both attacks caused me to fall over on my back, and he remained on top of me, continually slashing at every piece of my exposed body.


    ¡°Fight back!¡± he demanded.


    ¡°No,¡± I replied. ¡°I will never hurt you again.¡±


    Releasing his grip on the jagged sword that was still submerged in my abdomen, he screamed, ¡°Don¡¯t say that! Don¡¯t lie to me! All you people do is hurt me!¡± He then took that hand and raked it across my face, slicing my upper and lower lips open.


    Then there was a moment of stillness. He continued to sit on top of me, but the attacks ceased. I saw his eyes wander all around me and to the pool of blood that I felt widening around me. My blood, for once, felt warm.


    ¡°Why won¡¯t you fight back?¡± he asked, his face starting to break apart with what I sensed to be grief, mixed with an array of anger, sadness, and loneliness. It was the most simplistically complex expression I had ever seen. ¡°Look at your blood¡­you¡¯re losing so much. You¡¯ll die if you don¡¯t stop me.¡±


    I, slowly and painfully, moved my head to one side, exposing the right side of my neck. ¡°You¡¯re not a monster¡­you¡¯re just in pain,¡± I said to him. ¡±If you need it, then it¡¯s yours. Take it. Take my blood.¡±


    That¡¯s when it broke¡­his expression. His eyes were the first to go. The thunderous, hardened yellow that once colored them was back to the soft, dandelion complexion that I was used to. Tears, like a cold, nighttime rain, came to flow out of them and down towards me. He leaned closer to me, and he did, those drops of water fell off of his body and onto mine. Specifically, they fell directly onto the valrose that was still on me. Within mere seconds, the flower withered away into nothing.


    His mouth got right next to my neck. I could feel his warm, sporadic breath pulsate on me. It gently blew against me, wrapping around my neck, caressing it, and warming it like a mother¡¯s loving embrace. And just like with love, there¡¯s warmth and pain. I felt him bite down into my neck and suck. I felt the pulsing and pounding blood in my body rush out of that wound and into him.


    Hunter pulled back and looked at me with the calmest eyes I had ever seen. In that moment, he embodied peace. The wild, bloodsoaked demeanor that seemed to plague him evaporated. As he sat above me, looking down like a lost child who had finally found his way, his eyes continued to soften, almost becoming like water. I stared into them as they looked back at me. They were mesmerizing. They were melancholic. They were nice.


    But then they changed. Suddenly and drastically, they grew wide and afraid. There was a sudden pain that had emerged behind them.


    As my vision retracted from its sole gaze of his eyes, I saw what had pained him so. Sticking out of his abdomen, trickling out fresh blood, was an arrow. Before I could even react, two more ramshackle arrows pierced him, causing his body to slightly reel back.


    ¡°Wha¡­¡± he uttered to himself, his voice muffled and cracked. His breathing began to once again accelerate, and his mouth was left agate, where small streams of blood began to flow out of.


    It was then that I heard the sound of feet on stone behind me. Although they were a bit distant, they were getting louder. Accompanying that noise was yelling, screaming, and other human voices that were both in pain and enraged. The mob had finally come to claim its victim.


    Still in a daze, Hunter slowly stood up and stared at the oncoming threat. Without looking at them, he pulled the arrows free, just as another one flew past his face. He then looked down at his bloodied hands, which held those arrows, and then down at me. Finally, his eyes glared back up. He stumbled back a few times as sweat and blood fell from his face. Still looking upon the mob as they grew closer, he picked up his jagged sword.


    ¡°Please,¡± I began to beg, ¡°Hunter, don¡¯t.¡± I tried to say more, but my pain forced my mouth shut. I wanted to call out to my friend, but the injuries I sustained made it impossible.


    Slowly, Hunter backed up into the shadows. As the sounds of incoming death approached, my friend retreated further back. With clattering teeth, he whimpered, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    He took another step back, engulfing half of his face in shadow.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    He immersed himself almost completely in darkness.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Finally, with just a quivering eye peering through the absolute shade, created by the rising sun, he looked down at me and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­I must leave,¡± before disappearing completely.


    I tried to sit up. I tried to stand up. I even tried to reach a hand out to my friend, but I found that I had no more strength. And as the light of the world began to fade from my sight, I saw the legs of those humans stampede past me. Just as my eyes shut¡­I cried. And then it went dark¡ªas dark as the night.

 Chapter 11

    Darkness. All I saw was darkness. All I knew was nothingness. For an unknowable amount of time, I remained stagnant and suffering. I couldn''t see anything, but I could feel pain. The pain wasn¡¯t exactly physical¡ªbecause I was adept at ignoring that¡ªbut rather it was something else¡­something more profound.


    I looked inside of myself, inside of that darkness, and reflected on the feeling. Slowly, shapes began to make themselves known to me. They were abstract and dully colored, and yet somehow familiar. The strangest thing, however, was that I couldn''t see the shapes, only feel them. I knew that their amorphous figures were there, and all I could do was empathize with them. Some of them felt new and sad, some of them felt ancient and angry, and others felt alive and warm. I stewed in the chaos that emerged from those combinations. I wanted to sit in the middle of them all. I didn¡¯t want to shy away from them anymore.


    The more I allowed myself to become one with those emotions, no matter how much it pained my heart to do, the more I began to understand them. I have no idea how long I was there, and honestly, it didn¡¯t matter. All that mattered was that I was beginning to see again. Those abstract colors and shapes became more definitive and rigid, forming the moon and the sun. I watched those two shapes trade places many times¡ªmore than I could count, they changed. It was then and only then that I realized that change takes time¡ªmany days, many nights¡ªand understanding. It requires a mind open to possibility and open to the world. It requires a mind that cares not for what the eyes see, but what the heart feels. I learned that even in the darkest of nights, devoid of any moonlight, or even in the brightest and most burning days, there exists a grey semblance of space. Even when memory only recalls the hazy remnants of truth, there can be a time of growth. And in that space, given that time, hope can manifest¡­even for someone like me.


    And then my living eyes shot awake. I was greeted by the sight of the real world, now waking alongside me. The hazy beginnings of an early morning peered through the window of the unfamiliar room that I was in, partially illuminating the space around me. I saw that I was in a humble abode, one made of simple wood and decorated with simple furniture.


    I found that I was laying on a single bed, with only a small nightstand next to me. On that nightstand was a cylindrical shape that I couldn¡¯t quite make out, seeing as it was still obscured by the fading remnants of the night. The rest of the room was fairly small, with only a few things scattered about in it. I saw that there was almost nothing else in the room besides a couple of oak chairs, a single door on the side opposite me, and a few stray pieces of bandages on the ground.


    As I slowly tried to sit up, I felt sharp pain make its way down my spine, starting at my neck and ending at the tips of my toes. But that kind of pain is temporary, so I ignored it and continued to prop myself up into a better sitting position.


    Following the trial of bandages that I saw, I traced them back to my bed, and ultimately back to me. I saw that my torso was almost consumed by them. As opposed to the standard white color, I saw that these bandages were stained in crusted crimson. It was then that I recalled what had happened before my consciousness faded. I remembered that deadened, yet gloomed face of my friend as he stood atop a pile of corpses. I remembered his frenzied, yellow eyes as they stared into me while he slashed away at my chest. Finally, I remembered the feeling of his warm breath as his fangs bit into my neck. Instantly, I reached up with one hand and felt my neck. I felt them. I felt the unmistakable mark of his bite.


    I hope this never heals, I thought to myself.


    After a few more moments of sitting in the space, letting my body sort through the awakened emotions that I was feeling, I heard the door creak open. Stepping into the room was a woman in plain clothes, who wore her brown hair in a tight bun. The moment her eyes met mine she stopped in her tracks.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re finally awake,¡± she said with a slight smile.


    ¡°I¡­I am,¡± I barely said, my voice croaking from the dryness of my throat. I swallowed and spoke up again. ¡°Where am I?¡±


    ¡°Varunia, honey,¡± the woman said as she walked over towards me, gently stepping across the wooden floor. She stopped once she got to the right side of the bed and I saw her reach toward the nightstand. It was at that point that I was finally able to see what was sitting upon it. As she adjusted it, bringing into the light, I saw a small, glass vase filled with water. Sitting in that water was a familiar, wilted flower. Its once purple and black exterior was faded, muted in grey. The vigor that it had was now long gone, as it just sat there, limply. The petals that once adorned it were either mostly gone or barely clinging to it.


    And yet, I couldn¡¯t help but continue to stare at it. It was like I was seeing it in a new light. There was something so off-putting about how something that I saw as so majestic and perfect was now clinging to the end of its time. In that moment, I finally saw it for what it really was. The charade of its beauty was nothing to me anymore.


    ¡°You like that flower, don¡¯t you?¡± the woman asked.


    ¡°I did¡­¡± I replied, my eyes still locked on it.


    ¡°I found it barely holding on when I brought you in,¡± she continued to say, reaching toward the, propping it up in the hopes to make it seem like it was more alive than it was. ¡°Honestly, both you and this flower were the same in that regard.¡±


    I then looked at her and said, dejectedly, ¡°Is that so?¡±


    She looked at me with inquisition in her eyes. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± she asked. ¡°What¡¯s with the sullen face?¡±


    I took a moment to respond. I knew how I felt, but it was hard for my mind to find the right words. After all, these emotions were a bit new to me. However, instead of hiding behind a facade¡ªwhich I¡¯ve done so many times in my life¡ªI spoke honestly and openly.


    ¡°I can¡¯t help but find that flower ugly,¡± I said. ¡°In fact, I can¡¯t help but wish that I never see it bloom again.¡±


    ¡°Oh really?¡± she disheartenedly replied. ¡°I found it quite beautiful.¡±


    ¡°There was a time that I did too,¡± I sighed. ¡°But I have to let it die now, no matter how hard it may be. I found beauty in something that isn¡¯t this flower, although it took me far too long. I guess that¡¯s my burden to bear.¡±


    ¡°We all have those, don¡¯t we?¡± the woman laughed. ¡°God knows I do. But I can¡¯t imagine what kind of weight you have to carry. I mean, just look at what happened to you when you defended our town from that monster.¡±


    The moment those words left her mouth, a rush of realization and energy filled my body. I shot a worried glance in her direction. ¡°How long has it been?¡±


    ¡°Since what?¡± she asked me.


    ¡°Since I¡¯ve been asleep¡ªsince you found me.¡±


    She took a moment to reply, but eventually, she nonchalantly responded, ¡°Just over two days or so, why?¡±


    Panic began to set in. I felt sweat start to form on my forehead and thoughts of worry started to swirl around in my head. Almost on instinct, I attempted to stand up out of my bed.


    ¡°Hold on, honey,¡± the woman started to say, raising her hands at me in a stopping fashion.


    However, I ignored her pleas¡ªmy mind was now solely focused on the thought of Hunter. ¡°Where is he?¡± I asked, wincing a bit from the pain.


    ¡°Where¡¯s who?¡± she answered, still frantically trying to get me to lay back down on the bed.


    ¡°Hunter,¡± I answered, now standing up, ¡°the man you called a monster.¡±


    The woman stopped her flailing and her demeanor grew a bit more serious. ¡°Oh, you mean the creature that you drove off? I think it fled down south. Good riddance. Thanks to you, I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll bother us again.¡±


    ¡°South,¡± I whispered to myself.


    With that, my destination was set and a new purpose was reinvigorated within my body. I grabbed my jacket and cloak, which were draped over a chair in the corner of the room, and reached out towards the valrose. But I stopped myself. Although it took a moment of mental fortitude, I retracted my hand, leaving that flower to its own fate. And with that, I continue to walk towards the exit.


    The moment I reached the door, I heard the woman speak up. ¡°Where are you going? You¡¯re still injured!¡±


    ¡°South,¡± I simply replied.


    ¡°Are you going to finish the job? Oh, you¡¯re so heroic!¡± the woman said in praise.


    ¡°We¡¯ll see about that,¡± I said as I closed the door behind me.


    The outside world greeted me a bit harshly, but I quickly grew accustomed to the bright sun. And even if it continued to be harsh, I would¡¯ve pushed through it because I only had one urgent thought on my mind: Hunter.


    Everywhere I walked kept reminding me of him, both for better and for worse. What I saw in front of me was a still-mourning, scarred town¡ªone that was stained with fading crimson. Even though it had been two days since Hunter¡¯s rampage, it seemed that they still hadn¡¯t been able to bury everyone. A few wrapped bodies still remain in town, as people carefully shuffled past them. They tried not to pay the corpses any mind, but the absence of words told all that needed to be said. It was a truly haunting sight.


    I wondered why these bodies, out of all the corpses I had seen in my time, made me have some sort of visceral reaction. I felt guilt and sadness creep into my heart¡ªthey were unfamiliar feelings to me. I wanted to reflect and contemplate on those newfound changes within me, but I knew that I had a much more pressing issue at hand.


    I continued to hustle my way through the still-ruined town of Varunia, twisting and turning down any alley that made my trek even a few seconds quicker. Eventually, I found myself walking down Memory Lane, the central and main road through town. Even though I was in a rush, something about that road almost forced me to stop. The image of my friend popped into my mind, his eyes filled with stars and wonder. And then that image turned cold, as blood dripped from his mouth and his eyes were filled with the pain of a thousand wrongs inflicted upon him.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Hunter¡­I thought to myself, holding back tears, I¡¯m going to save you.


    I made my way to the stables and saw a sight that stung a bit. While none of the creatures within them seemed to be hurt in any way, I saw a smear of blood just above the body of the woman who owned and ran the place. Her throat was jaggedly cut with cruel efficiency.


    I simply sighed and looked for a jihl, which I found with almost no issues. I had always hated riding any sort of beast, because they would always try to buck me off, but I felt as though there was a more pressing matter than my own ego. I found the healthiest looking jihl, saddled them up, and attempted to hop on it. To my surprise, there was an unusual calmness to it. In fact, just as I began to make my way onto its back, it looked at me with the liveliest, green eyes I had ever seen from a creature.


    Huh, I thought, I guess these creatures really are alive.


    I reached my hand towards its head and tried to pet it, saying, ¡°Thank you for your help.¡±


    In response, it closed its eyes and purred. I couldn¡¯t help but smile when I heard that, because as stupid as it sounds, I had never once thought about how alive anything was, nevertheless a rideable creature. I laughed when the realization hit me.


    ¡°I suppose you need a name, huh?¡± I said, still stroking its head. I looked at its scaly body, and as I did, I noticed how the blue coloration slowly transitioned to darker purple the closer it got towards the tail. Something about that resonated with me and a single name popped into my head. ¡°How about the name Dusk?¡± I asked.


    It purred even louder. I wasn¡¯t sure if It even understood me, but I took that as a sign of affirmation anyway and proceeded to mount it. I took one long, drawn-out breath, and closed my eyes. I allowed myself to calm down and focus¡ªa lot was about to unfold within the next few hours.


    Finally, I opened my eyes and said, ¡°Onwards, Dusk!¡±


    I rode straight through the open plains of the dawning countryside. The grass would dance with the drafts that blew through the land, and the dance seemed happy for once. The sun, still cresting over the horizon, cast a gentle warmth across my body. The warm wind continued to blow against me with each stride of Dusk, causing my wild hair to blow back like grains of gentle wheat. Even though there was an immense amount of urgency to my journey, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of peace while I hastily traveled over the land. If it was any other day, I would¡¯ve loved to stop and just take in the sensations.


    Just as midday began to break, I arrived in front of the Dubitor Woods. I took a moment of pause, looked down at Dusk, and continued to ride into it. If it wasn¡¯t for Dusk¡¯s agile nature and slender body, there would be no way I could¡¯ve ridden anything inside of the dense forest. She would dip, dodge, and squirm her way through any break in the trees, always maintaining the direction I pointed her in.


    After about an hour into the woods, the thick canopy above started to block out most of the daylight, making portions of the trek indistinguishable from the night. Not only that, but direction started to lose all meaning and my senses started to get confused.


    Panic ensued. Multiple times I turned around only to find that the path I had just come from was nowhere in sight. Certain trees looked familiar, but their arrangement was different from what I remembered. Everything started to make less and less sense. My panicked state must¡¯ve been visible, seeing as Dusk stopped moving the moment I began to fall too far into it.


    And then I heard it. It was subtle at first¡ªso subtle that it couldn¡¯t penetrate my worried state. Eventually, however, I heard the faintest tune echo in my head. It was calming. I slowed my racing brain down and began to simply listen to the tune. I realized that it was carried by the wind, but not wholly separate from it. Every so often, and I swear this to be as true as can be, I would hear voices in the wind. I would hear voices within the song. But they weren¡¯t voices that spoke in a language, but rather a voice that spoke with intent alone. If I was only listening to the surface of the melody, it would''ve sounded like nonsense.


    The tune echoed within the space in my head that only recently formed. I allowed the song to guide my actions and to calm my worried emotions. Before I knew it, I was moving in a certain direction¡ªand Dusk was also moving in that direction, too. It seemed that she even heard the magical song of the forest.


    Although the rush was slight, a recent memory resurfaced for a moment. I swear, if only for a second, I saw the smiling face of Hunter standing there. I could hear him telling me to be quiet and to just listen to the wind. I saw the flickering fire-like insects and a small tear fell down my cheek.


    I¡¯m coming for you, Hunter. I¡¯ll save you.


    Just as the sun began to start its daily setting, Dusk and I arrived at the base of the Carcernin Mountains. I looked up at the imposing sheer cliff face and took a moment to prepare myself. I hopped off of Dusk, grabbed my equipment, and looked her in the eye.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to wait for me to return,¡± I said, petting her on the head. ¡°You¡¯ve already done so much for me. Thank you.¡±


    She then nuzzled her head up to me and rubbed it against me. I heard a loud purring noise coming out of her that made me smile. I continued to pet her for a minute or two before turning around and walking towards the cliff. Looking back, I saw that she had not moved, and instead sat down in a patient way. Still, I had a mission to accomplish. And so, I began the ascent.


    For the next couple of hours, I continued to climb. With each new foothold I found, I felt the wind continue to blow harder. At times it was cold, much like the sensation of a foreshadowed death. However, when I thought of Hunter, it felt much warmer. Either way, it was getting stronger the higher I went.


    Occasionally, I couldn¡¯t help but stop and turn around to look at the great horizon beyond. I watched as the sun slowly hid away more and more. At the same time, the darkness of the night started to make itself known, and the shadow of the mountain cliffs became more present. So much so that it was nearly impossible to clearly navigate some paths upwards. However, no matter what sort of obstacles stood in front of me, my climb never slowed and my conviction never faltered.


    Before I realized it, I was already at the top. For some reason, it didn¡¯t feel as hard as before. Looking back now, it might¡¯ve been because I instinctually followed the path that Hunter and I used before. Or it might¡¯ve been because I had a more genuine purpose¡ªone that wasn¡¯t clouded by the dark ambitions of the night. No matter the reason, I managed to make it up to the cave entrance.


    Just before I entered, I looked back towards the sun. As I did, I saw that it was completely gone, replaced with the wondrously purple and pink hues of the nighttime starscape. Each glimmer gave me a bit of hope, but the absence of the warm sunlight did give a reason for pause. Perhaps I was just being overly cautious, but for some reason, I did wish that it was day.


    Regardless, I carefully walked into the mouth of the cave, determined and steadfast. As I trekked down the damp tunnels, I soon felt an oddly nervous sensation creep its way into the back of my head. At first, I thought it to be the familiar feeling of being watched, but after I sat with the feeling for a while, I realized that it was the exact opposite. The moment that thought crossed my mind, I quickly glanced all around me, and what I saw sent a shiver down my spine.


    There was no one. Sure, there were tables, chairs, and other barely held-together furniture, but not a single soul that sat upon them. Worry filled my heart, quickly dropping into my stomach. Without hesitation, I swiftly made my way through all the different offshoot caverns, looking for signs of any living person. But I found nothing.


    What shocked me even more, however, was the fact that I couldn¡¯t even find a single drop of blood. It was as if every person suddenly disappeared from reality. I was starting to become more confused than worried, but the combination of those two emotions was more than terrifying to me. Still, I had to keep looking.


    Maybe they¡¯re all in the same place that Hunter is, I thought to myself. That would be the best scenario, I suppose.


    I thought for a moment where Hunter would go. Instantly, an answer came to my head, but I pushed it away. There was something about the answer that seemed so realistic, yet horrifying. I didn¡¯t want that to be the case, and so, I asked myself the question again. And again, the same answer was delivered to me.


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    Hesitantly, I started to make my way to the deepest parts of the cave. Every step of mine echoed the farther in I got. It was as if the cave was talking back to me, warning me with louder screams to not proceed. I ignored those warnings, pressing onwards to see the truth for myself. When I made it to the room before Father¡¯s chained prison, a spine-chilling sight came into view.


    Dozens of fanged were huddled together, sitting on the floor¡ªall of them shaking. Some were shaking with fear in their eyes; some were shaking with tears on their cheeks; and some were shaking with rage in their fists. All of them, however, stopped the moment I entered the room. They looked up at me with a unified face that, even to this day, I could not accurately describe. It was an angelic look of desperation, hope, hopelessness, divided unity, and fear of something uncertain.


    I replied to their look by saying, ¡°What happened here? Where is Hunter?¡±


    One of them partially stood up and said, ¡°I don¡¯t know where our boy is, but a monster with his face came into here just a little while ago.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I replied with a slight sense of urgent worry.


    The fanged person continued. ¡°It was as if our greatest nightmare was reborn. It was as if he was freed again.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    With a haunted look, the fanged person replied, ¡°Father.¡±


    I stood, frozen and confused. The only thing I could do was walk towards the person. When I arrived in front of them, I simply asked, ¡°Where?¡±


    Without words, they motioned towards the next room¡ªtowards Father¡¯s prison. I took a deep breath and nodded in acknowledgement. Just as I began to walk towards there, I felt them grab onto my cloak.


    ¡°Please, human,¡± they cried. ¡°Please, friend of Hunter, save us from this. We don¡¯t want to live under that nightmare again.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± I replied with a hardened face. ¡°I plan on saving everyone.¡±


    With that, I resolutely walked towards Father¡¯s prison. As I did, I saw that the iron-barred door was already smashed to pieces, scattered across the floor. The chains that once held it in place were dangling, slack and barely in motion. Whatever came through there had done so recently and with absolute force. It was a kind of image that looked oddly familiar to me in retrospect. It was like looking into a mirror of my past.


    I walked in slowly and carefully, stepping over the splintered wood. The room was dark and would¡¯ve remained so if it wasn¡¯t for the light of the torches just outside of the room. That flickering light allowed for partial visibility, which let me see the absolute primal scene in front of me. In the very back, there were two figures. One was wrapped in chains, sitting still. Behind it was an impossible amount of scarlet that stained the wall. I recognized this as the bound form of Father, who was now unmoving and unnervingly silent.


    In front of Father stood his murderer. Their back was turned towards me, but it wasn¡¯t hard to tell who it was. To make it even easier on me, in this figure''s hand was a twisted blade, which had a valrose petal dangling from it.


    ¡°Hunter!¡± I called out.


    Just as I said, Hunter slowly began to shift. As he turned around, I saw a familiar madness in his eyes. He looked at me with wild, electrically yellow eyes that looked as though they were slitted with an emotionless void. Partially obscuring those haunting eyes, was long, black and stringy hair. What was once naturally curly strands that were firm, tall, and full of life, were now matted strings of black that hung over his face. In fact, the more I stared at him, the more and more he began to look like the corpse behind him.


    As Hunter continued to look at me with those vengeful eyes, I heard him say, ¡°So, you did come.¡±

 Chapter 12

    Standing in the desolate prison that once held a monster, stood another one in the making. In front of me, towering in front of Father¡¯s corpse, was Hunter. I looked at my far-gone friend and clenched my teeth.


    ¡°Hunter!¡± I said. ¡°Stop this madness! What have you done?¡±


    He cocked his head, slightly, and calmly replied, ¡°Something I should¡¯ve done a long time ago.¡± He then narrowed his yellow eyes. ¡±The real question is: What are you doing here?¡¯


    ¡°My friend, I¡¯m here to save you.¡±


    Hunter gave a cynical chuckle. ¡°There¡¯s nothing here to save. I know exactly what I¡¯m doing. If you¡¯re here to save me, then that means you blame me for what I did¡ªthat you believe that what I did was wrong. Otherwise, there¡¯s nothing to save me from.¡±


    ¡°My friend, I don¡¯t blame you for a second. You inflicted one wrong against a people that have wronged you more times than God has performed miracles upon this world. I just don¡¯t want to see you continue down this path. You can¡¯t meet them with bloodshed and violence like this¡ªyou¡¯ll become the very thing that they say you are.¡±


    ¡°Then what am I supposed to do? Just roll over and let them slaughter me? Would you recommend that I help them guide their blades into my chest, too? Should I point them in the direction of my heart? Because that¡¯s already been killed.¡±


    ¡°I¡­I just want there to be peace.¡±


    ¡°Peace,¡± Hunter laughed. ¡°Peace is only an option for the privileged, and you damn well know that ain¡¯t me.¡± He then twirled the broken and bent, dagger-like sword in his hand, letting the valrose petal that dangled from the pommel twirl and bloom. ¡°To them, peace means the death of me and,¡± he motioned his arm outwards to the open caves, ¡°my people. So what would you choose?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t answer. I didn''t have an answer to that question. There wasn¡¯t a clear solution in my mind. For so long, my life had been clear-cut and there were only ever two choices in front of me. But now I had no answer on what to do. Nothing was simple. And so, I remained silent.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought,¡± Hunter said. ¡°You¡¯ll never truly understand what it¡¯s like to have been me and to be me.¡±


    ¡°I do understand!¡± I desperately yelled. My voice was less angry and more in the realm of heated denial. My words came across like the pleas of a man who was holding onto his last strings, desperately bargaining with a truth that he couldn¡¯t face.


    ¡°No you don¡¯t!¡± he screamed back at me. ¡°You¡¯re still human at the end of the day. A detestable one by their standards, but human nonetheless. You¡¯d never understand.¡±


    That was the final nail in the coffin. I hated that I couldn¡¯t accept reality for what it was, but in that moment, I finally had to confront the truth. I did not know what it meant to live a life outside of my own. My silence, even to me, was deafening.


    Hunter stepped towards me, one foot slowly in front of the other. We continued to look into each other¡¯s eyes, unmoving. Just as he made it halfway between us, he readied his blade.


    ¡°If you want to stop me, then you know what you have to do,¡± he hissed.


    ¡°I know,¡± I replied, unsheathing my blade.


    Instantly, he rushed forwards with unimaginable speed. His speed was like that of lighting and his eyes were the same, yellow color. However, they seemed duller than before. There was a darkness that clouded his once-clear irises. And in that brief moment before the storm, I couldn¡¯t help but feel sad when I looked into them.


    I drew my blade with a swiftness that rivaled his own speed. Our two swords clashed in the middle of the darkened cave. We looked into each other¡¯s eyes with teeth clenched and muscles flexed. We remained in that stalemate for what seemed like an eternity. Sparks flew, partially illuminating the room¡ªit was probably the first time in years that it saw such light. The shadows cast by those tiny bits of temporary light covered our faces. It made us both look more demonic and human at the same time.


    Eventually, I used my overwhelming strength to push Hunter off of me, causing him to be shoved back a bit. His feet skidded across the ground, leaving two long tracks in his wake. He never broke eye contact with me and his smile widened even more.


    ¡°Huh,¡± he said, ¡°I thought you¡¯d be stronger than that.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I am,¡± I responded.


    Hunter then dashed from side to side, zigzagging his way toward me. His footwork was insane. He looked as though he was lighter than air with how effortlessly he moved around. He glided across the ground with an agility that I had never seen before. It was hard for me to even follow his movements, but I was able to.


    He began to use that speed to attack me from every angle. His swiftness was just on the edge of my periphery at all times. Even with his apparent weightless movement, every slash of his felt as though it had an immense weight behind it. Because of this, I was forced to stand still and defend each oncoming strike. But every time our swords would clash, it would get just a little harder for me to deflect.


    ¡°When you first came to this town, all you wanted was revenge, isn¡¯t that right?¡± Hunter asked with a slight hiss.


    A few more sword clashes happened in rapid succession, causing a menagerie of electrified sparks to fly around the room. Through all of those attacks, I managed to deflect each and every one of them.


    ¡°You even got to act on it,¡± he continued to say. ¡°You even tried to kill me.¡±


    Hunter¡¯s words and actions came immediately from behind me. I turned around to face yet another blisteringly fast strike. I bought my sword up in a defensive manner, managing to catch his gnarled blade before it could hit me¡­but only barely.


    Hunter then moved directly in front of me and crouched down in a predator-like stance. His head was in front of his body, with one hand placed on the ground and the other one behind him, holding his shortsword.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    With a long exhale, he said, ¡°So why is it so wrong for me to want to do the same thing?¡±


    I remained silent; both because I was concentrating and because I had no response. I had nothing to say to him because I had nothing that I could say. I was a hypocrite through and through.


    Following that moment of silence, Hunter cracked his neck and charged right at me. Once again, I brought my trusted sword up to defend me, but it wasn¡¯t enough this time. He glided his rusted weapon against mine, and then separated it with a continued strike. As soon as it was over, a gash appeared on my face. He was the one who drew first blood.


    Standing up straight, a few dozen feet away from me now, Hunter just looked at me with stillness in his eyes. I reached up and felt the blood trickling from my newly acquired wound. All I did was stare back at him.


    ¡°That¡¯s not gonna be good enough, Slayer,¡± Hunter said in a provocative manner. He then flicked his blade down, scattering the drops of blood that were on it. ¡°You can¡¯t stand in the middle forever. So what¡¯s your answer? You have to decide eventually.¡±


    I glanced down at my sword and back up at my maddened friend. ¡°I know that,¡± I agreed. ¡°I know that, but I also know that this cycle of hate can¡¯t continue.


    ¡°You still don¡¯t get it,¡± Hunter countered. ¡°This isn¡¯t just about you. Even if you were to die right now, there would still be thousands of your kind out there that haven¡¯t yet met their grave.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this! This doesn¡¯t have to happen.¡±


    ¡°It does!¡± He said with clenched teeth. His eyes then looked down at his blade, specifically at the valrose petal. ¡°Everything happens for a reason. Maybe my mother¡¯s death was the push I needed to see the truth. It was pointless for me to try and live amongst you all, because the moment they found out what I was, regardless of who I was, they did not hesitate to turn to murder.¡± He then looked back up at me. ¡°At least I know the truth now.¡±


    With bated breath, I asked, ¡°And what truth is that?¡±


    He pointed his sword at me and said, ¡°That our pain won¡¯t go away until one side is dead.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not¡ª¡±


    ¡°Save your breath,¡± he interjected. ¡°Words mean nothing to me anymore. Some come on, Slayer, show me what you really are¡­do not tell me.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± I started to say, but there was nothing left in me to say.


    His words continued to ring within my head. I simply closed my eyes and let myself find strength within myself. I had to push aside this new layer of softness that had started to grow around me. I let myself partially return to a state that once was. Just before I opened my eyes, I saw the image of a withering valrose. It was at that moment that I realized that every defensive maneuver I made during this battle was with one hand. This time, I grabbed the sword with both hands and flexed my muscles as hard as I could.


    ¡°Those are the eyes I remember,¡± Hunter said with a crooked smile.


    He then crouched back down into his offensive stance and charged straight at me with blinding speed. Just as he closed the distance between us, I raised my blade up high and brought it down with all the force I could. There was no intent other than to kill with that swing.


    ¡°That¡¯s more like it,¡± Hunter said.


    My attack came down, cracking the ground and causing a bit of indent within the stone. Hunter, however, remained untouched. He managed to move to the side at the last second, almost as if he knew it was coming.


    Before I had time to react, he swung his blade to the side, cutting my hands and causing my own sword to fly out of my hands. Without a second of wasted time, he turned the tip of his blade squarely at me and thrusted it forward. I looked down to see his twisted sword buried fully into my chest.


    ¡°Hunter¡­¡± was all I could say before he pulled the blade free, causing a splattering of blood to follow along with it.


    I collapsed under the weight of the pain and of my own failure. My body instantly gave out and I fell to my knees. I then closed my eyes, and for some reason, I started to cry.


    What am I doing? I thought to myself. This isn¡¯t me. Why would I return to that person? I am not a Slayer anymore¡­I am a man, not a monster.


    I looked down at the bloody pool in front of me, still being filled from the hole in my chest. The only thoughts that occupied my mind were those of regret. I had come so far, only to throw it away at the last minute. The moment I thought about that, I then began to feel pain within my chest.


    What am I? No, that does not matter. What matters is who I am. I am not a Slayer¡­I am Sebastian, and I won¡¯t let that monster return again.


    My eyes shot open with renewed strength. Before I even realized it, my hands were already on Bram¡¯s whip. I had forgotten about it, and yet I found a new purpose within it. With resolve, I haggardly stood up and looked at the back of Hunter, who was walking out of the room. With one swift motion, I cracked my whip at him.


    Quickly, he turned back towards me with a look of surprise in his eyes. No matter how quick his reflexes were, there was no way he could dodge this attack. And he didn¡¯t. He only managed to move a couple of inches to his right before the drac-made tip of the whip found itself planted squarely in his left eye. I yanked the wip back to me, pulling it out of his socket.


    Hunter screamed out in vengeful agony as he placed his hand on his bleeding eye. When he moved it again, I saw that his left eye was no more¡ªonly his right one remained.


    With that eye, he looked at me with fury. Seething, he asked, ¡°You just won¡¯t die, huh?¡±


    ¡°Not until I can save you,¡± I replied, barely standing.


    He gave a demonic chuckle and cracked his neck. ¡°Go ahead and try.¡±


    Without hesitation, he started to charge towards me. In response, I slung my whip all around him. At first, he parried each attack of mine, but the moment he got halfway toward me, I managed to land a single strike. The tip of the whip sliced down his chest, but that did not stop him. Before I could pull my whip back again, he had already gotten next to me. With one, swift movement, he sliced upwards, and my right eye went dark. I felt the pain hit and I knew that I had just lost it. I fell to the ground from sheer pain. As I looked up with my one, unfocused eye, I saw the blurred image of Hunter standing above me.


    ¡°Nice try,¡± he taunted. He then bent down close to me, allowing both of our single eyes to meet. ¡°You want to save me, huh? In that case, I won¡¯t kill you here. Think of it as thanks for not killing me back in town. But now,¡± he hissed, ¡°you will never see another second of mercy from me. Next time we meet, one of us will end up dead. So go ahead and try to follow me¡­if you can keep up, that is.¡±


    He then moved out of my sight. I tried to stand up to see him again, but I couldn¡¯t. As I laid flat on my back, I had nothing left in me. My muscles wouldn¡¯t budge and my limbs wouldn¡¯t move. The only thing left on me that worked was my mouth. And with it, I used the rest of my fading energy.


    ¡°I¡¯LL NEVER GIVE UP ON YOU!¡± I yelled out with all my might. ¡°No matter how many days or how many nights it takes; no matter how many swords impale me; no matter how wicked the wild winds blow; no matter how many mountains I have to climb or how many oceans I have to cross; no matter what it takes, I will never abandon you!¡±


    With that, I had given everything I had. There was nothing left within me, and so, I remained on the floor, unconscious. The last thought to leave my head was that of the stars and how ethereal they were. I thought of the night and how much potential it had. I thought of the starscape that covered it and how, given the right sky, it could become something more beautiful than anything else in the world.


    If only, I thought. If only¡­