《A Blighted World》


 Prologue - The Last Tale Of The Demon From Hell

    ¡°Gather children, gather here around me,¡± demanded an old man in a voice the children did not find any different than his usual tone. As children are wont to do, they playfully hurried to listen to another from the old man. Yet, the gathering of the adults heard the solemnity and finality in his voice.


    He was a storyteller in this small hamlet; entertaining the children and teaching the old. Their hamlet was small and hidden deep in the mountains -the least visited place in all the lands. With only ten families long ago, they were a small community connected unlike any place else. But as time passed, their numbers grew, and families even more so. From a hamlet, it turned to a village with over a hundred souls. Then from a village, it became a town but always locked away from the outside world. The mountains were carved to make homes, the steep lands made into farms, and the plateaus -- formed from the elements of nature taking their toll - growing above themwere stores, schools, playgrounds, and a massive town hall.


    Through time and time passing, he was always there, teaching and narrating to all who would listen, no matter their age. His home was by itself, built in the mountain; separate from the others. Wide and spacious it was made for him to sleep in and others to gather and listen to his tales. That was the extent of the knowledge he had. He spoke with warmth and kindness that encouraged others to seek what they knew not, and he already had. But, his arrival was anything but that. We had heard of his previous exploits and tales, of a time before he came to this little home; stories of death and destruction aplenty. They all were stories remembered but not written. But the tale of his arrival was recorded in stone, never to be forgotten; carved into their souls.


    Long ago, he walked, to the gates of the mountain pass, soaked in blood; a demon from the depths of hell. The tiny community, living in the high mountains separate from the world, met him with determination to stop the demon from bringing the darkness he carried. All were prepared to die, standing to protect their family. Just like the kingdoms burned before,whostood to defend themselves as they found his ire unbearable, only to return to the rubble they had used to make them, all around their lonely home. They watched him walk with a purposeful stride. His eyes lowered to watch the earth pass with every step, but with a jerk, he looked at them with burning eyes and a stormed face - shadows lining his eyes. Even the most braveheart of the villagers stepped back in fear, shivering at the attention the demon had given them, their hearts felt like they were being crushed with a mighty weight beyond their ability to uphold. One by one, they lowered their gaze, fear taking hold within them. Fear that if they looked in the demon¡¯s eyes, they would drown in its murky waters.


    Coming close enough for them to hear, he stopped his march and silently stared at them. Longer and longer the silence stretched until the tension was palpable. His long white hair was fluttering in the wind, while his ragged clothes did so as well, almost tearing off him. He raised a hand covered red from the blood of his enemies, and in it, he held a sword, completely ordinary to those without discerning eyes. ¡°I - I am death,¡± he said in a voice that seemed unused for a long time. ¡°It''s most physical form,¡± he gestured to himself, demanding they look at what covered him completely. ¡°I walked in line with those that thought they held the world in their grasps, then taught them how far they each were from their goal. I¡¯ve killed kings mighty and weak. Then toppled the greatest of empires. All with my bare hands and this simple sword.¡±


    He paused, and they all feared the hidden meaning none except the village chief could discern. Not with all the blood and gore that covered him. The pause was elongated with the rhythmic and loud winds that whipped against them all; whistlingitsdarktune. The demon looked to collect himself, then spoke again, this time with emotions that were begging to be released from their stoic prison. ¡°But, I am also a storyteller. A narrator of tales forgotten and some never discovered, but above it all¡± he stopped again, closing his eyes, the demon shook with emotion; reminiscing a time better than this. Slowly he opened them once more, but tears had already been given release to the world, streaking down and making lines in the red that covered his cheeks.


    ¡°I enjoy-,¡± his voice broke, unable to speak its mind. Taking a deep breath, he gathered the strength he had exuded in the beginning and spoke again, determined to say his piece. ¡°I enjoy watching children smile in genuine happiness. Some may call it a weakness, but I believe it is a strength that has kept me undefeatable and pure from the dark taint and blight that has consumed this world.¡± The villagers listened in disbelief, murmurs and nervous chuckles broke out from the mass. How would a monster enjoy the happiness of others? How would a demon enjoy entertaining those that it should have desired to end? The thought mocked all that existed and the history of this world. But before they could interrupt him truly from the folly, he spoke with a brittle and croaky voice, ¡°Will you give me a place to narrate my stories, chronicle my tales?¡±


    Then, the chief of the hamlet had seen something within the words the demon had spoken that the others could not find. Walking out of the group, with a long staff he put most of his weight on, he strode towards the demon. He stopped but an arm away, his long robes billowing in the wind. He looked the demon in the eye as if to find something that should not be there. After a time, with an old voice, he spoke, addressing the man before him, ¡°You poor soul, what pain and grief you must feel. Come, we will give you a home with peace and ears to listen to your tales. I cannot guarantee the people of my humble home would listen but know that my children and I will always.¡± The other villagers could not believe what had happened then. Furious, they yelled, questioning his choice, then questioning his sobriety, and lastly, they challenged their chief¡¯s sanity. What man, wise or foolish, weak or strong, king or peasant, would have dealt with demons from the lowest layers of hell?


    But through it all, the chief persevered; undaunted by their words. He took his cloak off, the one he wore to stave off the cold winds, and covered the demon with ragged clothes. Slowly he led him back, while the villagers parted in fear. The pounding of the chief¡¯s staff and the wind, seeming to cry in protest, were the only sounds that could be heard. Everyone was to afraid to voice their opinions; they could not deny him this for all their lives were held by a thin cord pulled taunt already; close to breaking. They accepted the demonic storyteller though disgruntled at the lack of power they had in rejecting him. It took a while for them to finally listen to his tales, only the chief - who was quickly replaced by another - and his family would hear the stories told. For ten years they shunned them, but like all things, time took its toll. With it came curiosity and an urgent burn to know what those shunned by everyone listened to all day long. Starting with one family then another and another again, until they all sat in front of the tiny cabin - the demon had made - listening to tales of adventures, dragons, heroes, magic, and even stories of a race most peculiar in a land even more so - hobbits he had called them.


    For centuries, generation after generation, they listened to tale after tale; each different than the one before it. After a few were heard and the demon adamant that he repeats not a story already chronicled, they began to record them all. They would carve them in stones, pieces of drifting wood, bones of long-dead animals, and for those a bit better off than the others; they would write them on thick parchments - for centuries to come. The stories were all gathered and placed in what they termed ¡®The House of Tales,¡¯ but he would simply call it a library.


    Now, after time immemorial, he began to tell his personal tale, the story of a demon that killed the world, or what they knew of it as a secluded people. The one story he has yet to tell, and they to record. ¡°Children, this is my last tale. It is time I move on.¡± The demon said in a voice thick with emotion. It would open long forgotten wounds, time seemed to have overlooked. A past he had tried to hide no matter how hard they attempted to pry it out. The audience, filled with every person from the village sat in the demon¡¯s home, the front walls removed to accommodate their numbers. While the demon sat in the front facing them. The children, as was usual, sat in front of him - a demand he would not relent on, while the villagers wanted them to sit with their mothers and the women in the back. Behind them were the men, some armored having just come from training, patrolling, or hunting. And even further were the women, all wearing black to symbolize the finality of this moment, and with it the loss of the villages storyteller - a position none after him would ever hold.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    It was then that men and women shook with grief as they heard the final confirmation of their beliefs. Sobs broke out from between the women, sitting in the back, hiding themselves from the children so they may have joy in his last moments. While the men were stone-faced as their hearts tore piece to piece in grief - holding their emotions in check not for themselves, but for those that depended on them. He may have been a demon, but he was one with a pure heart. Even if that statement was a fallacy in its most basic structure; even if the one word that would define evil were a demon, he would be the black sheep that challenged the norm.


    As the silence continued, a squeaky voice interjected, interrupting the solemnity of the moment, ¡°Where are you going, Granpa?¡± the little girl asked, curiosity shining brightly in her eyes. She was a tiny one, smaller than the rest. She always wore a grey robe that used to have an intricate design of flowers and swirls - now faded from overuse- no matter how dirty it was; a gift from the demon she had once received long ago. Her hair, purple and wild, was constantly tied back into two ponytails that were untamed. ¡°Are you going to were my granny went to last year?¡± She continued oblivious to the tension that had built. Fidgeting in her spot, she seemed to want to holler out her words, but knew better, so she continued in a singsong voice that made the demon smile, ¡°My daddy told me that she went to a better place where granny could have all the toys and dresses she ever wanted! If you go, don''t forget to bring me back a present.¡± She was the greatest grand-daughter of the once village chief long ago. Her resemblance to him was uncanny, and her openness to the world even more so.


    Unable to hold herself back, she quickly crawled up to where the demon sat in the front and whispered in a voice all heard, ¡°Don''t tell daddy, but granny was weird. She forgets everything! I asked her to bring me a present last year, and she still hasn''t returned!¡± Upset at her grandmother''s forgetfulness, she crossed her arms and pouted cutely. The demon could not hold himself back any longer, he laughed for what seemed to be the last time. Hugging the child of his deceased friend, he thanked her for the break in tension that had built and whispered in affirmation to her request. Putting the child on his lap, he began once again to narrate his story. ¡°As I was saying before this curious one interrupted me. This will be my last tale and the greatest of them all. A story of a young man taken away from his family, friends, and home, then thrown into a world he had no place being in. He was weak in both body and mind. So weak even the rabbits Miss Wakayku raises could beat him.¡±


    The children were gasping and shaking, each with anticipation and curiosity unbound. It was apparent they had a million questions they wanted to ask, but they knew from many scoldings before, to never interrupt the storyteller once his story began. They were even more reserved than the adults who understood the meaning of his words. They murmured to each other in disbelief, how could the demon have been so weak? How did he survive the cruel world they knew to exist beyond the mountain pass?


    Grunting in irritation, the demon raised his heavy eyebrows and stared at the adults, silently questioning whether they would follow the laws of his tales. They were simple and only three; developed by the worship these people had for him. The first and most obvious was never to interrupt the storyteller. Once his tale had begun, they all stood in his domain. The second, to never leave once the story had started no matter the situation, for he would not retell any story ever again. The scripts, recorded by scribes, of his tales were but a fraction of the story, his voice the majority. The third and last was to spread his words to all who would hear them, spreading them by word, letter, or action. A holy pursuit they swore to accomplish long ago. They would send envoys to those that had survived his culling and built upon the ashes of kingdoms lost long ago. With the envoys were copies of their holy scripture put into bindings of colorful make. Colors of green, brown, and purple, filled with lessons and tales for all to hear; just as he asked from them.


    Embarrassed at their actions, they quickly ended all discussions they had begun and positioned themselves once more to hear his tale. Smiling at the discipline he had carved into each one of them, he continued his story, ¡°He was a man of another world filled with the greatest things, all in the realm of the gods and dreams. There they had lives of peace, meat every day - some even multiple times - and the ability to send a letter to the other side of the world within an instant. In this world knowledge was available to everyone who sought it; not hidden within towers and castles. The people were connected to everyone else, not even the great oceans separating the lands or the mighty mountains - touching the cloud - could stop them from traveling through. But most awe-inspiring of them all,¡± The demon paused dramatically, his words were already within the realm of the impossible. But his next words were even more so, ¡°They managed to walk upon Adion - The Light within The Dark - on the moon. There they learned that Adion was nothing but a massive rock with no light of its own. Dull, dark, and uninhabitable. Unwelcoming those that had come to it and nothing more thanRaeil¡¯sbrilliance reflecting of it.¡±


    He let them exclaim in surprise; his words were things the gods would be incapable of. Limited to the rules of this dimension. The laws of physics they had, no matter how much they bent them, still withstood the greatest efforts put into breaking. Once he thought enough time had passed, the demon began to speak again, but this time he spoke with great pain.


    ¡°But saddest of all, sadder than his great loss, was that he was without the ability to gainBaserrah, and wished to keep his soul pure. Existing in what children were born with, theFitrah- The state of absolute purity. Or at least as close as he could possibly be to it. So he stayed weak, cursed for eternity even though many had offered him cores of great power.¡± The demon''s voice had become thick with emotion as he remembered past struggles and pain. He told them he was a cripple - an unwanted cur. A burden on society as a whole hated and ostracized then pushed to the edges of society. Forbidden from interacting with the world, prohibited from trade and even marriage. They were the weak meant to be culled by the strong; the pitiful none would give to.


    A churning sensation within his stomach found its way into reality, assaulting him as he thought of the past. It was a sign of the time he had or the lack thereof. His story must go on no matter the words he spoke after this; no pause will be graced henceforth. Their surprise and demands were forgotten in the demon¡¯s mind. He was adamant that he finishes his story before death took him as well.


    ¡°As he lived within the forests, too afraid of the potential prey to even hunt, he used knowledge taught by his father to gather wild vegetables and berries for many days. And on the eve of leaving the accursed forest that starved him, he found the catalyst of change. Then was the day he swore to raiseHopewithin a world filled with blight and darkness. To raise a purity only seen in young children that smile.¡± He spoke hoping to cause some levity in this gloomy atmosphere he had created, and remove a bit of the pain in his soul. Maybe if the children smiled, he could live a bit longer. But it was not enough, breaking his promise of no pause, he did so. A silent tear streaked down his old and withered face, affected by time like all things. Slowly it streaked, down the wrinkles that lined his cheeks, then onto his beard. Gradually it found a single stray of hair not perfectly combed, falling down.


    As it fell, the little girl had looked up to see why he had paused his story, only for the tear to splash on her forehead. Her eyes opened wide as she watched, while he closed his with a tremendous effort. Doing his best to prevent any more from flowing while memories of pain and loss passed his mind¡¯s eye. ¡°This is my tale. The story of one never meant to exist in this dark and evil world.¡±


    And so his story began from the very beginning¡­

 Chapter 1 - The Beginning of The Story From Cursed Eyes

    Mutasm was in his bed, covered by too many blankets. It was mid-winter and very cold outside. Then again his absolute love of sleeping so insulated didn''t help any. Even then the sun¡¯s rays pierced through all the layered blankets and woke him up, unusually strong for this time of the year. He tried covering his face with even more layers, folding the blankets a bit help. But none of it worked, he slowly woke up, wishing the sun would just disappear for a few hrs then come back when he was ready for it. As his mind wandered, he began to think of all the things he had planned for the day, but as he started, he remembered something that made him jump for joy. He had nothing planned! He could just sleep in. Hearing shuffling around his room, he mumbled groggily, hoping that his mother wouldn¡¯t convince him to wake up.


    ¡°Mom, close the curtains, please. The sun is somehow hitting my eyes. I don''t have class today. Let me sleep in,¡± Today was one of the best days of the year for Mutasm. It was Labor Day! One of the few days he had a break from both his university classes and work. It was also one of the only days he could just sleep and be a couch potato the entire time.


    His mom began shuffling off towards his feet, not speaking. An unusual occurrence if there ever was one. Of everyone Mutasm had ever met, none held a candle to how much his mother could ramble on for. She could go on forever.


    Why would she be so quiet? He asked himself, hoping it would stimulate his sleepy brain.


    Under the cover of his blankets, he opened his eyes in alarm. There was only one situation where his mother would not speak to him. And it was one he was quite familiar with. Oh, he was in big trouble. For what exactly he did not know. But he was in enormous, humongous, mountainous, gigantic trouble nevertheless.


    "M...Mom, I am sorry! I don''t know what I did, but I won''t do it again. Just... Just don''t be upset. You''re never supposed to be upset. Mom?" He called out in hopes to get her to respond. If she didn¡¯t then she would be waiting for him in the kitchen, preparing the one weapon any mom would use to get a point across. She would guilt trip him into submission. But more importantly, she would be upset at him. He could never stand seeing her frown. His mother was never supposed to frown.


    She was the bright sunshine that lit up the entire house. Without her, the world was a dark and dull place. He had lived by himself in a dorm for a semester during his freshman year. It was one of the worst semesters he had ever experienced. Without his mom''s wonderful personality, the dorm and everything in it was almost depressing. That semester he had his lowest GPA since he was in middle school (a three point one). After that, he vowed to never upset his mother, or live in a dorm again. Unless of course, he could find someone he could fall in love with, then he would need to find his own house.


    Curling into a ball under his blankets, he was willing to try anything, no matter how underhanded it may have been to get her to break the quiet trance she had gotten into. And he would be shameless about it! He knew that calling her Ms. Incredible always had her speaking again. Or at least grunting irritably, instead of the silent treatment she was currently giving him. It was like magic. You say it once, and ¡®boom¡¯ she would be trying her best to hold back her shining smile.


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    "Ms. Incredible, I plead guilty. Just speak to me." He waited for a while, but the only thing he heard was silence and the rustling of branches.


    Then it clicked, coming crashing down like a meteorite. They found his Organic Chemistry midterm exams. The worst grade he could have possibly gotten in the field he was majoring in. An imaginary chill suddenly assaulted him. His imagination began running wild at how upset his parents would be that he even felt a cold chill. He wondered if his mom had opened the window, but that would have been ridiculous. It was below thirty-degrees Fahrenheit outside.


    He brought his blankets even closer to himself, trying to keep the warmth in. Readying himself for his final trump card. His ''Aya did...'' trump card, the last one he had to use against his devilish sister. While she had inherited mothers amazing smile, she was a master of pranks and tricks. That once beautiful smile becomes devious when she wears it.


    "Aya beat up Tom -- her classmate -- at school again!" He blurted out, hoping against all hope that it would work.


    Crickets, that was all he got in return. No, literally, he heard crickets singing their usual song. That was weird, almost as weird as his mother''s awkward silence. There should be no cricket songs in winter; at least not in Michigan. They should be hiding in their crevices to stay away from the cold.


    It was then that he felt it in his bones. There was something wrong, so terribly wrong. Mutasm was afraid to look, worried that he might see what he thought was happening. But he had to make sure this was not some elaborate prank his father and sister were pulling on him. Last time they had him thinking it was the day of his finals. He had almost broken down crying. He put all his hopes of getting a passing grade in Organic Chemistry in that final examination.


    Throwing off his many blankets from his face, he tried to look at his surroundings but was assaulted with two unfamiliar experiences at once. The first was the incredibly bright sunlight that caused him a glare, unable to see he covered his eyes and rapidly blinked. The second was the cold his room was never supposed to feel like. He gathered the many blankets around his shoulders to stave off the chilly winds all the while doing his best to get used to the light. Once he could finally see again, he stared at the unexpected. He looked, only to find himself on his bed in a meadow surrounded by many old and weathered trees. They looked rotten to the core (dead for decades). The meadow itself was filled gnarled bushes and plants, only a circle of grass surrounding his bed seemed to be alive.


    ¡°This is not how my room is supposed to look!¡± Screaming in denial, his mind became a maelstrom of fears and worries. Millions of stray thoughts flew into his mind of all the possibilities and probabilities. Of how likely he had been kidnapped, or an alien spaceship teleported him to the Amazon Forest. But it all seemed impossible, more so considering he had fancied himself a survivalist.


    He had gone out camping multiple times a year with his father ever since he was ten years old. His father taught him how to survive in certain environments by himself as a coming of age thing. He learned how to trap animals of various sizes, of edible plants and those that are poisonous, and by the time he was eighteen, his father taught him how to build a cabin within the woods. But, as he looked around now, every plant and tree he looked at was completely unfamiliar. Slowly his vision started to clear a bit more, making the gnarled bushes and trees to look more alive. But, that did not mean that made anything better at all. Instead, they were warped, twisting around each other in an abomination of nature. Each seemed to be trying throttle what stood near it.


    Mutasm came to a final realization as he looked around. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn''t in his world any longer, but one completely separate from his own.

 Chapter 2 - The First Encounter with the Local Fauna

    His eyes began to dilate in fear, his body trembled ever so slightly. He looked around for the familiar - to gain a sense of comfort - but nothing appeared. Only more and more foreign objects deemed him worthy of their sights. His heart thumped without restraint, faster and faster until he was hyperventilating. This was not his messy room, nor was it anything like any of the woods he had ever been to.


    Mutasm slid himself back until he propped himself on his bed¡¯s headboard. Grabbing all the blankets and sheets he could, he huddled with them, searching for a modicum of safety no matter how fleeting. ¡°Wh-Where am I?¡± He questioned the world around him, maybe someone or something would hear him and provide an answer. The longer he waited, the more the silence grew oppressive. There was no one to respond to him.


    There was noise, but his mind could not register them. The light rustling of branches caused by the wind went unnoticed, and so did the calls of insects and smaller critters. It felt like a dream to him, so he had hoped that voicing his thoughts would disperse it, or at the very least make it waver, yet that never happened. They didn''t fluctuate, their image only gaining strength as his eyes cleared even more. The bright colors of the twisted meadow he was in grew more oppressive the longer he sat.


    For a while, he did not move, uncertain what actions he should take. But the fog that had taken over his mind slowly receded, giving way to teachings his father had drilled into him. ¡°I need to find shelter first. Then a source of clean water, and lastly a sustainable source of food,¡± he said, quickly listing out what he had to do to stay alive in a forest. Or at least this was what he thought the twisted trunks and plants made. He got off his bed, barefoot the soles of his feet landed on the cold and wet ground with a crunch. As Mutasm continued to look around, it became apparent it was still very early in the morning; the sun¡¯s rays were coming in from a low angle, and the shadows were still very tall. This time of the day most animal would either be asleep - only waking - or beginning to. That also explained the wetness of the grassy ground the meadow was filled with; the morning dew had just come and would soon become vapor once again.


    Mutasm grabbed all his blankets and folded them (one inside the other) making them compact enough to carry. Picking up the large roll it had become, he slowly walked crushing leaves and branches every step he took. In the silence that was the forest, it felt like a massive boom every time. Hoping this did not attract anything he continued on his way. Slowly moving towards the edge of the meadow and to an opening he saw between the trunks that had created a barrier.


    Having reached the exit, he looked out only to find a vibrant world beyond the twisting spires that he had been introduced to. Trees of vibrant greens, browns, and purples sat separately from each other; islands separated in an archipelago. They twisted in a hideous beauty, all the while the suns rays caressed each, highlighting in a soft yellowish red glow. Under them were plants of grass and bushes following the colors the trees had. Under the green trees were green grass and green shrubs (the same for all the colors). Together they looked like an abstract painting made perfect in ways human hands could not complete.


    ¡°Wow, that is so beautiful, but scary at the same time,¡± he said to himself. Though his body was still shaking a bit in fear, his overwhelming love for nature and experiencing new things was still a bit stronger. As he moved out the exit into the vibrant world, he murmured to himself, ¡°Much more beautiful than the weird meadow. That just gives me the creeps.¡± Finally out, he took step after step towards the first tree near him. It was massive, reminiscent of an oak tree. It was bent this way and that, stretching and bulged randomly, and more importantly, it was purple. Its leaves were the same color as its bark, something quite unusual for any tree from earth. Mutasm wondered, as he neared it, how it collected energy from the sun. And why its uniform colors, separating each tree from the other.


    As he reached the base of the tree, he extended his hand to touch the bark, only to get a light shock as his fingers brush its harsh bark. He wondered why that happened, was their electricity running through them? Or was it a one time shock? Reaching again, he felt it once more. He found himself quite upset at this revelation. He remembered the first time his father had taken him out camping. It was a day he had remembered ever since he was a child. They had been there already for a few days already, his father teaching him the most basic of things. But, in the morning when Mutasm woke earlier than usual, he crawled out of his tent. There he found his father standing at the base of a large tree. His head was bowed, and eyes were closed (his long hair covering the side of his face, partially). It looked as though his father was speaking to the trees, communicating with them in ways old and mystical. Being the small and impressionable child he was, he believed his father was a superhero or at the very least knew magic. He was utterly mystified at the scene, watching for a long time. Then when it was clear his father would take a while, he slowly crawled back into his tent, imagining all the things his father could probably do. Of course, now he knows better, but he never caught his father doing it again, nor did he ever build the courage to ask. That was something he will regret never asking. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    As things are, one always leads to another. Now, as Mutasm''s disappointment grew, with it a pang of sadness came. It reminded him of his family, and how he would probably never see them again. He would never be able to witness his mother''s beautiful smile, share a bonding moment with his father over a crackling fire in the woods, or merely prank his devilish sister - getting her back for the many she had done on him. He felt his heart churn, and pain lancing from it to his core. Sniffing in emotion, he tried to keep the tears away but failed miserably. Mutasm was an ugly crier, tears would quickly fall, while snot would slowly dribble down his nose. He wiped his nose with the right sleeve of his pajamas shirt while wiping away the tears with his left. ¡°I miss your pranks already, you energetic oaf,¡± he said


    Mutasm turned away from the tree and sat down on the purple grass. Folding his knees up, and his hands around them to keep himself in that position. He needed time to sort through his emotions, and only then would he move on. A coping mechanism he learned from his - his family. As time passed, he remembered fond memories of those he cared about; happy times he might never have again.


    But, luck was a cruel mistress, and even more so to the unfortunate. As he sat there oblivious to this world¡¯s dangers and to used to the rather tame forests he had visited, there was a burrow he had not seen, hidden within the roots of the massive tree and covered even more so by his blankets. A screech, demonic in nature, startled Mutasm as he fell over and quickly scrambled up to his feet. His eyes swiveled around like a bird or animal of prey. Trying to find the source of the unholy shriek. Looking down, he saw his blankets move by themselves. Already facing intense emotions, his heart could barely take any more. Slowly, the sheets were pushed away, while he started to take steps back. With a sudden cry, from both the screeches owner and Mutasm, a massive rabbit at least three feet long and a foot high at the shoulders jumped out of the hidden burrow. It was covered by a brown and black fur, and red eyes that scared the ever living lights out of Mutasm. Snarling like a dog with spittle and foam coming out the sides of its mouth, it lowered its head and made the single most prominent thing about it clear to him. A glistening horn that twisted in spirals - wholly white and a foot long was held at the ready to stab through him. The rabbit took a warning step towards him as it snarled; demanding he leaves its territory.


    But, that was not what truly terrified him. No, that was the rotten and blackened ethereal tendrils that seemed to grow out of the creatures back. All of them swaying to an unseen wind, and some trying to grab him from afar. Having been scared witless by the overly aggressive and fuzzy creature, he quickly backed away as fast as possible. As he did so, he tripped on a branch that should have broken under the strain of a proper step, but due to his hurry, he merely slipped on its wet exterior and landed backside first on the ground. This only made the rabbit even more combative, pacing slowly towards him. Getting up with a hurry, thoughts a mess, he turned around and ran with all his might - hoping the rabbit did not give chase. Almost slipping, again and again, every step on the wet and crunching branches and leaves. He didn''t know how long he ran, but he continued to do so until his lungs burned and his legs felt like they were as heavy as lead. He ran past colorful tree after colorful tree, until he remembered something important.


    He forgot his blankets back there. Coming to an abrupt halt, he fell to his knees and hands utterly exhausted. Panting in exertion and sweat covering him and his pajamas, he considered going back to get them. But as soon as the idea popped in his head, he quickly dismissed it with a shake a hurried shake. The thought was a folly he would not be found doing any time soon.


    ¡°There is no way I am going to that devilish rabbit''s home. Let it enjoy the blankets.¡±

 Chapter 3 - Surviving in a Cave Filled with Bones

    Mutasm got up with shaky legs determined to continue until he found a suitable shelter. But as he looked around, the landscape did not bode well for him. More so considering he lost his only source of real cover over his head. Despondent at the loss, he continued his trek towards what seemed to be an incline in the land. Step after heavy step, he moved on. His thoughts were a flurry of panic and fear. At any moment, another vicious rabbit might appear and attack him. Those red eyes and spittle flying everywhere as it snarled, the glistening unicorn horn, and more memorable, the rotten tendrils from its back would be nightmares for days to come.


    Every rustled branch was a hidden monster that could feed on him. Every crunch of leaves and branches not his own was a warning of a beast lurking in the long shadows that surrounded him. He might have been hallucinating from the fear and emotions he had running rampant within him, or it could be from the suddenly itchy eyes. Ever since he saw the abomination of nature, with its rotten tendrils reaching out to grasp him, his eyes had been itching unusually. Mutasm rubbed them as he continued to trek past the trees. Gradually, the ground beneath him began to tilt slightly; introducing a more difficult path for the already exhausted Mutasm. Thighs burning, it took him a while to notice the change. The land around him began to become more mountainous slowly, and the trees slight more separate than before.


    More rocks were apparent, unlike before, larger and larger as he continued in his trek. Slowly, he crossed enough distance until a mountain, large at the base, suddenly shot up into the sky, only to rapidly narrow into towers thin - touching the clouds. Unlike the forest, the colors of the mountain were not much different than those of earth - its awkward shape was readily apparent and distinct though. He strolled towards the mountain base, in awe at the surreal sight before him. He, very much like his father, loved to see new things with his own eyes. They would choose a destination once a year to experience the world themselves.


    Mutasm drifted in the moment, amazed at the sheer beauty of the mountain looming above the forest, hidden by a canopy of colorful trees and leaves. A bright light suddenly assaulted his eyes, and within a second it was gone. Like the sun reflecting off a mirror, tilted perfectly towards his face. Looking at where he believed the light had come from, he noticed a wavering image of a section of the mountain wall; like a large circle that did not belong. Feeling a need to find out what it was, he decided to see what it might be. But, the fluctuating section was in a remote part, without a clear path toward it.


    Determined, Mutasm slowly walked up to the base of the mountain. Finding a path he could climb towards the illusion - he guessed - he began to go up. The first few handholds were vertically up until he reached a platform that progressively rose diagonally up towards the front of the illusion. In front of the image, was a ledge sticking out, like it was built there on purpose. Mutasm heaved himself onto the platform, his muscles aching every time he pulled himself up. Sitting down with a huff, he let his legs hang on the side of the platform. Momentarily enjoying the serenity of the colorful forest down below.


    Maybe I shouldn¡¯t climb up. The forest is so beautiful. I should just stay there. I could probably make a nice and small shelter within a few hours. It would make everything so much easi-


    Mutasm felt disconcerted with the trail of thoughts he had. Why was he so adamant in going to the cave? What was up with the sudden swing in desire? Hadn''t he just climbed up because he wanted to see the illusion? Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he felt them become more vivid. It was like a fog had inhibited his mind. Passively leading him away from the illusion, using his own feelings against him. In truth, had he not seen a rabbit three feet long and with a very sharp looking horn and ethereal tentacles, he probably would have left to create a shelter on the ground; completely forgetting the wavering image.


    If a small critter like a rabbit is three feet long, I can only imagine how big a predator must be.


    Mutasm pushed himself up with a grunt; it was nice to have a small break. Especially considering how worked up he had been about everything that happened until now. Carefully, he moved forward while keeping his feet on the floor and hands stretched for balance; sliding his way up the tilted platform. Slowly, he would test the strength of each position before he moved on. He did not want to end up splattered on the hard floor down below. Eventually, after a few slips and a small part of the platform breaking off due to weathering, he made it to the ledge. Thankfully, it seemed sturdy enough to stay up. And more importantly, it wasn''t narrow, but wide enough for him to sleep on.


    But the width of the ledge was secondary to Mutasm. His entire focus was undivided to the wavering image before him. How it was there, he did not know? Nor did he understand how other people had not noticed it as well. Rubbing his eyes again, the itch came back with a fury. ¡°My eyes itch way too much! I need to get some pure water to clean them out soon. But right now, I am going to find out what this is,¡± said Mutasm. Renewing his curiosity, and continuing on the path he had chosen. With a shivering hand and eyes squinted, afraid of the endless horrible outcomes that could be waiting for him on the other side, he touched the illusion. For a moment, a few seconds and nothing more, the image held; solid as a wall of dense rocks should be. But, it quickly gave away.


    Mutasm stumbled in without anything supporting the weight he had applied against the wall he had felt just a second ago. He closed his eyes, heart beating, and sweat designing his forehead. Extending his hands out, he fell onto them with a grunt. Quickly rolling, he curled into a ball; making himself as small as possible in case something did happen or an animal called this place home. After what felt like way too long, nothing happened. Slowly, he opened his eyes, only to be met with the ceiling of a natural cave - stalactite waiting for the day they fall on an unsuspecting wanderer.


    While that would not have caused him any concern, the perfectly smooth floor under him did. As he suspected from the beginning, when he saw the flat platform, this place was man-made. Or at the very least made by sapient beings. Considering he wasn''t on planet earth anymore, there probably weren''t any humans anywhere around. Mutasm pushed himself up to his feet. Squinting as he did so, he looked around. He found that he had been laying in a wide tunnel leading deeper into the cave. It was wide enough for five people to walk in shoulder to shoulder and about ten feet high. The walls were a dark gray color, with strips of brown and black running along them vertically. On the walls of the tunnel were shiny pieces of metal that reflected the sun¡¯s rays into the cave, giving it the needed light source. Each was about a foot long and half as wide, tilted in an angle. They were separated equidistantly from the other; giving more credence to his theory of a sapient-made cave.


    Feeling wary at meeting any sapient creature he would not understand nor look like, he hugged the right wall as he moved deeper; making sure he did not accidentally break any of the reflective surfaces. One thing Mutasm was entirely sure about, was that he did not want to be a test subject locked in a prison or be vivisected like an animal by scientists. Shivering at the thought, he slowly made it to a bend that seemed invisible from the entrance of the cave. The curve was bending deeper into the wall than the rest of the tunnel, making it very hard to see without being close to it. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The closer he got to it, the more nervous Mutasm became. He felt his heart in his throat, and his head pounding with every step he took to get closer. In addition to the lactic acid already in his muscles, his hands became a bit clammy, and legs even heavier than before. Taking deep breaths at a regular and constant pace, he tried to lessen the anxiety that had built up. Once he reached the edge of the corner, he placed his back on the wall. Stopping to gather his thoughts and strengthen his resolve. His head throbbed even more than before, and butterflies finally made themselves present in his stomach.


    Why is it getting so hard to move forward past this point? I feel like I am about to give a speech to a million people. And the entire planet¡¯s fate rested on that one speech.


    Mutasm continued his long wait, trying his best to push himself forward, but his nerves would not let him. Rubbing his eyes again, he started a mantra to drive himself across the bend.


    Breath in, Breath out


    Breath in, Breath out


    Over and over again he repeated it until he felt enough strength in his limbs to take that final step. Muscles straining unusually, he stepped past the bend, only to stumble through an invisible barrier like he did through the cave entrance. This time he caught himself, but he stayed with his back bent and hands on his knees. Mutasm felt shocked at the sudden lack of nervousness and fear in continuing. He didn''t have clammy hands, his heart stopped beating so hard, and mind not throbbing anymore. Feeling mentally sound and better than any period before he decided to make this climb. That in itself made him disoriented and unsettled. Taking a while to gather his thoughts again, he wondered at the shift and what it meant. Was there a passive effect similar to when he was sitting on the ledge, just much stronger?


    Straightening himself, Mutasm¡¯s thoughts quickly drifted away at the scene before him. Eyes widening, he stared at a large room with no other doors. He probably would have been happy to see such a perfect place to make a temporary home, but what inhabited these caves scared him to his core. He felt his throat swell in fear, unable to voice a scream. He did not notice this even as he tried holler - voicelessly. All the while he fell back onto his backside.


    In front of him was a room with a single pedestal at the far end - directly touching the wall - and on it was a small book Mutasm could probably hide under his shirt. But before that was a sea of bones covered in rusted armor and weapons. Like a war had taken place here, all for the small book. He tried to hurry away, but a pull from the other end of the room drew him in. One second he was crawling away, the next blackness with no light, and the last he was in front of the pedestal. Reaching with shaky hands towards it. It wasn''t the book that drew him, no it was the pedestal that begged him to be released from its forgotten torture. To be set free, giving it death by removing the one thing it had guarded for eternity.


    Thoughts entered Mutasm¡¯s mind as he finally touched the pedestal. Eyes becoming completely black to see what had happened so long ago. Frozen in place, Mutasm drifted into the air, something picking him up. Protecting him for its own devices. All the while images began playing in his mind, of a being with a soul forced out of its physical vessel and put into a large rock; molded to the desires of its maker. Slowly, with each death the soul caused, the stronger it had become; absorbing the life energy released when the soul truly departs to the next realm. Until one day, its maker gave it a book and commanded it to guard it for time immemorial. For what seemed to be an eternity, it was the only calling it had for existing. Millennium after millennium it guarded its single treasure against the hordes that begged to gain insight from the book; killing them all.


    Its goal was a source, no the source of meaning to an existence that was so flat in make. But once that goal meant nothing, what would remain for it to desire any form of life? Why should it stay, when its maker probably died long ago, and so did those that craved over the book? In the end, after too long a period with no one ever entering its cave, it had decided that it desired this life no longer. The next person would free it from the obligation it had and releasing it from life itself; all by merely picking up a book.


    Worry not, it tried to speak to Mutasm. He was focused with all his might at the words, committing them to memory. It spoke in a guttural language he did not know. But the words were as clear as the sun in its zenith; no clouds disfiguring the sky it inhibited. Mutasm understood them as though they the words were spoken in his tongue.


    No suffering will be caused to thee. And knowledge bestowed I shall provide. Of the words written in this single book of ages old and times untold. Of a people long ago, they sought heights unmatched and challenged the gods. Until they became the gods, they so despised. This book holds a single power, words written to give Baseerah - insight beyond insight - to those that would reach it. A power my master feared would be too strong even in the realm of gods and their equals. The book has a simple name, but the words they speak is beyond the scope of ordinary mortals. Its name is ¡®Darkness Faster Than Light.¡¯


    Mutasm felt like he was being stretched in ways impossible. Then with a sudden pop, it all crashed inwards into a ball; a hidden force molding him. He felt like he was in a wormhole, speeding across the universe to a destination unknown and in a blackhole being crushed alive at the same time. But as it all slowed, he found himself holding onto the small book. It was a hand and a half wide and double that in length. Thick like a volume book, it was covered entirely in a black leathery cover. On the cover was nothing but a yellowish red drawing reminiscent of the sun that adorned the sky of this world and all around it was darkness.


    ¡°Darkness Faster Than Light,¡± Mutasm repeated, whispering to himself the name of the book and the words spoken by an entity that had lived longer than he could imagine. Tearing his eyes away from its entrancing look, he saw the rubble that had once been a beautiful pedestal. The home of a sad soul with no memory of who it was before it became so. Mutasm got down to a knee and brushed his hand on the small pebbles and sharp rocks. Hoping that the soul would find its way towards the goal it had wanted. To reach a peaceful place where it could just cease to exist. It was like a vigil without candles, only the silence and Mutasm wishing them a safe journey beyond.


    Getting up, he turned to look at the sea of bones that had been a barrier when he first witnessed the room. No longer was it a source of great fear and horror. It was a reminder of a being that had a purpose and lost it through time¡¯s weathering effect - eroding even the most committed being¡¯s resolve. Between the bones, that came up to at least a foot off the ground, was a pathway he probably carved in the moments of blindness after he tried crawling away. Turning to his left, he saw two skeletons were reaching out in a frozen position by themselves.


    Leaders among the many that had died seeking the only treasure this room had. They were laying on the ground, with one hand reaching out towards the once pedestal believing they were so close to their goals. On them were two bags that seemed to have rotten over time. Walking towards them, he pushed the bodies away, and they quickly turned to dust freeing the bags. Ruffling through them, he sought to find anything that could be of use. Unlucky, nothing was in any condition to be used. As he searched more, pushing away the organic matter that it had all become, a shiny object caught his attention.


    ¡°Yes! Something actually lasted all this time. It must be worth something,¡± said Mutasm.


    Digging with renewed vigor, he finally pulled out the object. Only to be utterly disappointed at what he found. Yes, it was a knife that probably would cost fortunes, but it was also more of a whittler''s knife than anything else. With a handle six inches and a blade three inches long. He could carve a dead animal with this, but anything moving or with a lick of intelligence would be able to kill him with ease. Especially considering if they had a sword, a dagger, a knife of any kind, or a stick even.


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope I could catch something with a few snares or fish mazes. Then gutting them would probably be quite an easy task with a knife that hasn''t lost its edge in what seems to be thousands of years.¡±

 Chapter 4 - Monstrosities Aplenty and More Tentacles

    Mutasm took his time searching for any bags or tools left in the large room. After a few hours of wading through bones that became dust as he touched them and shivering every time he did (he might not have been absolutely terrified, but he was still creeped out by the bones), he had found a few things of value, if he could call them that. Despondent, he sat near the pedestal¡¯s rubble. The things he found until now sat there in their full and glossened glory. He looked at them for a while wondering why anyone would use resources so valuable for things that could be made by the cheapest metal one can find. This was just not right, it was like using rhodium for a toilet. It made absolutely no sense, it was either you were filthy rich beyond measure or you were mentally challenged.


    In this case, he was sure it was the latter. Why would anyone use something so valuable to make nothing but a whittling knife, a pot, and worse than both a bowl? Why not leave a sword for him, or a dagger, even a shield would have been nice. Anything he could use to help protect himself from the abominable rabbits. Sighing at his bad luck he said to himself, ¡°There is still a little bit more to search in between. Hopefully, I can find a fricken tool that is useful to fight with. How am I supposed to kill a three-foot rabbit with a unicorn¡¯s horn and horror movie tentacles with a whittling knife and a pot?¡± Shaking his head, he groaned in displeasure.


    Getting up with pop from his back, he stretched to loosen his body from sitting there staring at the fruits of his labor - no matter how little it was. He continued his search, going through the bags that were left farther out in the corners. But like always, things were not meant to go his way. ¡°Ah! Nothing except a roll of old parchment! What am I supposed to do with that?! Write about the rabbit to death? Slap it with the parchment until it dies from brain damage? Hell, there isn¡¯t even ink to write with!¡± While he did not know what he was supposed to do with parchment at this stage of his survival, he still couldn''t lessen the value of what lasted for thousands of years. Maybe if he survived this all, and more importantly wasn¡¯t killed then dissected, he could sell a few and become filthy rich, then again that was if he wasn¡¯t mugged in some side street. The pot and whittling knife also saved him some time from having to make them from bark and stone. Skinning and gutting an animal with a stone knife was not an easy or clean thing.


    He shivered at a memory - his father had taught him how to gut an animal without any sharp tools - as he sat in a veritable sea of dust and ash. As he continued to sit there, it struck him that he might have used a bit too much time searching. He needed to find food for today, or at the least a source of water and fire. Hurriedly he jumped up to his feet, only to wince. His legs were just too sore for any type of sudden movements. With a quick pace, he walked past the bend in the tunnel, and into the tunnel itself. Stopping, he looked back at it a bit confused at what was there, or the lack thereof. ¡°Wasn''t there supposed to be a passive influence? Guess it went away with the poor soul,¡± he said. Talking to himself might not be the healthiest of habits, but it was one that will keep him sane without contact with other people. Putting his thoughts in the back of his mind, he moved on to finish his task. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Slowly, he reached the wavering image, unlike the bend which lost its effect, this was still going strong. The suns rays came in unabated by the illusion, shining as bright as it would in the afternoon. Mutasm walked towards the edge of the illusion expecting to find some resistance similar to what he felt when he entered, but he stopped directly in front never finding out if the effect was still on. His breath caught in his lungs, eyes widened again, and feet began to shake. His poor heart could barely hold out anymore. He froze like an animal of prey in front of a predator without any hopes of escape. Because that was exactly what was in front of him. A massive bear-like monstrosity stood with its front of him with paws on the ledge, sniffing the platform and the illusion. It must have been incredibly big to somehow reach up with its maws of death. Other than a short snout, it was exactly what a black bear would look like. Its black fur glistening in the sunlight, while its snout wiggled about trying to find the owner of the unusual scent.


    For a while, it continued to do so until it started growling in frustration of not finding the owner of the unfamiliar scent it had picked up, unbeknownst to it, he was standing right in front, behind an illusion its eyes could not pierce. Both stayed rooted in their spots, one hoping for an easy meal and the other afraid, if he took even a single breath, he would be that easy meal. It took a while, but eventually, the bear grew tired of waiting. It pushed itself off the ledge and landed with a massive thud. It started to walk away, but Mutasm was left even more frightened by what he saw. Even the bear had the ethereal and rotten tendrils coming out of its back each trying to reach him without success. His stomach felt like it was eating itself, and his feet - on which he had been standing on for nearly an hour while confronting the bear - could not hold him up any longer.


    ¡°Wh-What was th-that? How does a b-bear grow that b-big?!¡± screamed Mutasm in denial. Bears, or any animal at all of those dimensions, should not grow that big, especially with the same amount of gravity here as in earth. He didn''t feel lighter or heavier, so the variation in gravity should be negligible when it comes to the size of anything. With shaky breath, and heart finally slowing down to something a bit healthier, he crawled back into the cave filled with the dust of hundreds of dead warriors. At least they of all things cannot form into a physical thing and caused him any more fright or mental drama. They will stay their spots for eternity if not disturbed by wind or another person.


    Sitting at the bend where he had faced his greatest swing of emotion - from disturbing anxiety and fear to a peaceful state - only this time he stayed hidden from the illusion facing the once pedestal. He had his back on the wall and was seated like before - under the purple tree - doing his best to cope with it all. Slowly, as his mind continued in a state of turmoil, his eyes closed and body relaxed as he drifted off to a much-needed sleep; rest from the new world he had been thrust into without mercy. All the while forgetting he had yet to find any sustainable source of food or water to keep him alive. Then again, what good would a bit of food do for him if he was gobbled up in the process by some monster - fifteen feet tall and even more so when they stand upright - from nightmares and horror stories.

 Chapter 5 - Hope Wrapped in Blankets then put into a Basket

    Grumbling audibly, Mutasm waved his hands in front of his face. A red light was hitting him, and he was determined to push it away. Again and again, he tried, but his efforts never came to fruition. Turning around in his lying position - on the cold and hard ground - to get away from the light. But, it was already too late, his sleep sucked out of him. Sitting up with an exasperated sigh, he shivered as a sudden cold wind assaulted him - it was getting cold and fast. It had been two days since he had seen the enormous bear sniffing for his scent. The entire time he had been too afraid of leaving the cave lest he is eaten alive. Shivering at the thought, Mutasm shook his head; he did not want to wander in the forest at all. He valued his arms and legs as they were; fully attached to his body and not in some monsters mouth. Then again, the result would be the same if he starved himself from food and water. Death waited for him at every path he chose.


    More so considering that small green wisp of light that had entered his cave the day before. While he was crying to himself in fear, it had entered the cave unabated by the illusion. Instead, or as Mutasm saw it, the illusion seemed to separate and make a hole for the ball of light to pass through without resistance. Slowly, it had floated towards him, and he continued running away around the room until finally he was too exhausted to keep escaping the small ball of horrific death, it reached right above his head and just stayed there. Mutasm had closed his eyes shut and curled himself into a ball, maybe if it exploded he would be kind of safe, but it did nothing except bounce up and down to an unseen effect, it caused him no harm. As grateful as he had been that it was some evil monstrosity, he still had been freaked out by how sentient the ball had seemed to be.


    Now, as he looked at the reflective surface in front of him - a bit higher, considering they were at the middle of the wall - he noticed a red and pinkish glow signaling the coming of sunset. He knew he had to get up and set a few snares, gather a few plants, some firewood, and then water before the night came - a long list if there ever was one - but he still couldn¡¯t convince himself to walk in broad daylight. Or even worse in the night where hundreds of predators were waiting from him with bated breaths. Slowly, knowing he had to brave the dangers of the wild forest out there, he stood up with weak legs. Grabbing his whittling knife in one hand, he slid his feet across the ground while his back was placed firmly on the wall, hands extended there as well. Though he knew it wouldn¡¯t make a difference, that small modicum of safety he had tricked his mind with might help him pass the illusion.


    Steadily, he reached the image, standing no more than an arm reach away. His mind screamed not to pass it, to not touch it, and if possible to not look at it. The dangers out there were going to find him otherwise, but he knew better. His body shook as he extended his arm, his fingers brushing the illusion but not passing it. An accomplishment he desperately needed. He did not stop there, as he got comfortable he pushed his hand out letting the sun¡¯s final rays shine brightly on it. For a few seconds, Mutasm did not move. If the monsters were waiting for him, he would not be taken by surprise. After what felt like the longest ten seconds of nothing happening, he gained enough courage to pass through. With a sigh of relief, he felt his tensed shoulders droop as the anxiety that had built up left.


    He was safe for now, but not for long. He needed to hurry and make some rope, set some snares, and find a few wild vegetables and fruits. Pushing his entire body out, he did not feel any resistance at all, but somehow still stumbled out. Catching himself at the very edge of the ledge, before he fell to his death. That would have been a cruel ending to it all; after going through all this suffering and trauma, he didn''t even end up dying by the claws of his fears, but by falling. Laughing mirthlessly, he righted himself and took a few steps back. The bottom looked really far, but that could be his eyes playing tricks on him.


    Turning away, he slid down the tilted platform - making sure to step over the fallen part - until he reached the end. Now he had to somehow climb down with his tired body. Groaning, he found traced a path with his mind and climbed down. Slipping a few times on his way down, he finally reached the bottom. Jumping down, his feet landed with an audible crunch of leaves and branches that made him wince. ¡°Be the shadow. Be the Shadow,¡± whispered Mutasm in a not so much a whisper tone. Now that he had finally made it out of the cave, he was determined to make it back without any leaks, whether they be a scratch or a stump of a limb.


    With urgency, he ran towards the nearest purple tree - a comfort if anything else - and tried to grab some of the bushes to make rope, but was only met with a collective shock that had him reeling in pain. It felt like someone dumped a whole tub of water over him in the desert. The sensation had him disoriented, and his sight jumbled for a while. But eventually, it wore off. ¡°Damn it! Why is there a shock to the trees and plants?¡± Gritting his teeth, Mutasm did not feel comfortable enough to shock himself again to get a few branches. While rope made from the skin of the bushes and longer plants and branches would have been fantastic, it seemed that it was not a realistic option. So he chose to make do with grass.


    Though grass was his last option, it was still a good source for rope making, or so his father had taught him. It was strong for a time, but would eventually break apart. Unless he found a way to get rid of the shocks he kept experiencing, he will have to make due by coming back for more grass for rope. Getting down to one knee, he rubbed his right hand on the soft grass. Looking for the best patches of grass among the purple field under him, he found it to be a useless task. ¡°How am I supposed to differentiate between purple and a lighter shade of purple?¡± Looking across to the other colored trees, the colors were very much the same.


    Not willing to waste another second of his time out here, he grabbed the nearest patch and pulled with all the remaining strength he had in his body. Only for the grass not to budge an inch. Brows knitting in confusion, he tried again, but the grass would not tear or come out no matter how hard he worked to pull. ¡°What the hell? Even the grass is somehow too strong for me to tear out,¡± Groaning, he finally remembered that he had a knife that had lasted for thousands of years without losing its edge. With a malicious smile and eyes gleaming, he stared at the patch. ¡°If this world is going to bulldoze over me, then my broken body will at least smash you as it falls,¡± he said, finally overcoming a living organism of any sort from this world; he had already been beaten without remorse by the wisp of light.


    Grabbing a large patch of purple grass, with a sawing motion, he cut through them entirely almost completely without resistance. Mutasm almost dropped the knife in surprise; he had expected it to cut well, but not with this much efficiency. Smiling a happy smile, he enjoyed something finally going his way, he quickly cut a few patches until he had a roll he could barely wrap his two hands around. Taking a bit, he tied the top into a strong knot, then braided the grass into two parts which he twisted together to make it strong. As he ran out of space to finish weaving the first, he grabbed a bit in both hands and tied the ones he grabbed to both braids to make it longer. He continued to do this until he had about ten ropes that were roughly six feet long. ¡°Long ropes and snares for larger prey. Then again, this might not be strong enough to hold down a rabbit with a unicorn¡¯s horn,¡± said Mutasm, accomplishment filling him as he stared at the work he had done.


    For a few hours, Mutasm had put out all ten of his ropes into snares. He had been taught by his father, that unless he became extremely proficient at hunting, he must always put ten traps or more just to catch a single critter - whether they be squirrel or rabbit. So, listening to his father''s advice he did so. Mutasm also tried to get long and thick sticks to make a fish maze, but two reasons made it very clear that he would not be catching fish any time soon. The first, all branches he touched, even after cutting them from their trees, still shocked him. But, more importantly, when he finally found a river to fish in, he found one that was wide and filled with life. The issue came in when even the smallest fish was about a foot long and shot out lightning bolts. He was pretty confident in his lack of ability to survive a single one of them targeting him.


    Feeling disappointed in the lack of fish to trap, marked the river in his mind. He needed to come back to fill his pot with water. River water was too contaminated in general with bacteria to drink from without boiling it first. Until then, he continued to search for a more easily attained source of food - wild vegetables. Though it took a while, he finally found purple, green, and brown potatoes and carrots. It was disconcerting to see purple vegetables he was so used to seeing in a particular color.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    But nonetheless, he took as much as possible and stocked them in an area he had clean and prepped to be his him within the cave. He made the bend, away from the still ash and far enough from the illusion as his home for the time being. Hopefully, he could find a way to touch the bushes and trees without shocking himself.


    With a sudden halt, Mutasm flicked his head with a finger. ¡°I could just tie a rope around the branches I cut. I don''t have to touch them!¡± he said to himself. Running with renewed stamina and with hopes of a warm night of sleep, he hurriedly made himself a fire within his lonely cave.


    ~~~


    In the middle of the night, Mutasm woke up with a start. He had been living off the lands around him for the past few days. Using the shock branches, as he had come to call them, he made a warm but weird fire. The fire didn''t come out the bright red he had been used to. Instead, it came out an amalgamation of the colors the branches had been from. Purple branches would make a purple fire and the same for the brown and green ones. But once put together, they would not mix, but become a colorful painting that radiated heat and warmth. Unfortunately for Mutasm, all his snares were either unused or completely broken. The small critters were just too big to trap that way, and he was just too exhausted to make some for larger prey. He had also eaten the goosebump vegetables, he named them because every time he took a bite, he would feel shivers and goosebumps run down his entire body. A creepy sensation without a doubt, but one he was getting used to.


    Now, with eyes wide and heart beating a bit too quick to be healthy, Mutasm heard voices screaming and hollering outside his secluded home. The voices were speaking a language very similar to the words used by the soul within the pedestal. It had a guttural origin, but with small changes in words. With a sudden and audible pop, he felt his head begin to hurt horribly; the mother of all migraines. Clutching his head, he let out a tortured scream as the voices became clearer, and their words made sense to the foreign Mutasm.


    ¡°- hurry, don''t-"


    ¡° - she is going-"


    ¡° - keep her in you-"


    ¡° - she is of no value! It''s the-"


    Screaming even louder, he grabbed a branch and bit on it will all his might. Its shocking touch hurting him, but more importantly, it grounded him and prevented him from tearing his tongue apart with his gritted teeth. He rolled on the ground, trying to somehow lessen the pain but it only became more, until eventually, he understood their speech completely. Yet, he just heard one sentence that had him running to see.


    ¡°Kill the women when you find her! We only need the basket!¡± said a gruff voice with a literal growl at the end of his sentence; the words were spoken devoid of mercy. Reaching the illusion, he looked out into the night. Trying to pierce its overwhelming cover, he squinted his eye as he hid behind the illusion. There near the tree line, he found a figure covered in a long cloak of browns, blacks, and greys billowing in the strong wind that blew in the night. Kneeling in front of the purple tree he had used to make his first batch of ropes the figure hands carried a large basket that was covered in many layers of blankets and sheets; either trying to keep something hot or hiding it from the world. The figure seemed to slowly whisper in a voice too quiet to hear, and then a small sob broke out of her lungs. It was definitely a she with a powerful but feminine voice. Looking towards the forest to see whether her pursuers had come that far, her face caught enough light to shed truth to the world around Mutasm. Two things were made apparent.


    White fur with black and golden dots symmetrically placed around her face like freckles was the only thing he really saw of her features, but it was enough to confirm that it was no human. The second was like all animal he had seen, she too had the ethereal tendrils floating out of her chest. It made Mutasm afraid, but it also made him think. What if those tendrils were literally ethereal and only he can see them? None of the animals ever reacted to the tendrils that seemed to pass right through them, and neither did the woman.


    But, that made no difference to Mutasm. She was still a sapient creature, and should never be hunted so. He continued to watch as the lady quickly hid the basket underneath the roots of the tree, then grabbing the branches without even flinching she covered them enough to shield them from sight. Getting up in a flurry of long sleeves, fluttering scarfs, and billowing robes and cloaks, she ran with speed that left Mutasm in awe. Quickly she disappeared into the darkness, and behind her was nothing to indicate her arrival except the hidden basket.


    ¡°Growl, where did she go?!¡± called the same gruff voice as before, but this time the owner of the voice broke past the darkened forest to reveal a hunched werewolf-like creature that was at least seven feet tall. Resembling a wolf, he had a gray fur that was unnaturally thin in places and puff in others. Together with the long claws, the jaw, extending out into a snout, filled with sharp teeth, and the black blade in one hand, he made for a frightening monster. Behind him rushed more of the same beasts, but this time they were smaller and their fur, less unnatural and cleaner. He too had the rotten tendrils, but they were much larger than any other he had seen except the enormous bear.


    Stepping forward the lead werewolf lowered himself to his arms and began to take long inhalations of the surrounding air. Trying to find the smell of the woman that had just been here. Yet after a bit, he began to claw at his snout, like a smell he despised had entered it without permission. Coughing, he shook his head and started to smell himself. ¡°What is this reek? What could possibly smell that bad? Growl,¡± said the werewolf as he continued to cough.


    Eye twitching, Mutasm found that creature to be insufferable. He did not smell, well maybe. Mutasm had been too afraid to take a bath in the river with those monsters that swam in the massive river. ¡°Stupid mutt,¡± said Mutasm grumbling. But quickly shut his mouth with a snap. The leader''s long ears began to swivel around as though he had heard those words. ¡°Did any of you hear anything?¡± he said as he looked around trying to find the source of the slight whisper that could have just been the wind. Hearing a negative from them all, he growled even louder and took off into the darkness following the slightest smell his powerful nose had caught among the other.


    Mutasm waited until they all left, then waited for a few minutes more just in case. After making sure a few times that they were not coming back, he hurriedly exited his hidden abode. Climbing down, he almost slipped off the platform because of his hurry but caught himself before falling. He didn''t even finish climbing down the handholds, jumping of a reasonable height. With urgency in his movements, he prepared for the light shock the bushes had, pushing them away he gritted his teeth and clasped his hands into a fist. He needed to finish before they came back. Getting them out of the way with a huff, he found the lonely basket there covered in blankets of pink and purple. Grabbing the large basket, he pulled it out and held it in hands. There on his knees, he pulled the head of the blankets to reveal what had been hidden and prized so greatly by the pursuers of the woman.


    With a cry, a baby''s voice sounded out. ¡°Mama,¡± the little girl called. Mutasm¡¯s hands began to shake as he stared at the fluffiest and cutest thing he could have imagined. Like the woman, the baby had white puffy fur and spots of gold and black on her face. With a giggle, the baby grabbed his hand, and with strength, he did not expect pulled his thumb into its mouth. Biting it with its nonexistent teeth. A warmth spread in his chest as he stared at her, but most importantly she was devoid of the ethereal tendrils that everyone he saw had. A pure little child and nothing more. She might not have been a human, but Mutasm couldn''t just leave her lying on the ground for those devil rabbits to devour. No, his older brother instincts quickly kicked in. Pulling the child to his chest, he took her and all her blankets out of the basket. Putting the basket back in place, he looked around to spot any source of danger before he could continue.


    He took the child and after a great struggle got up to his ledge. Turning back to where the woman had sobbed at the loss of her child, he said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I will take care of her.¡± Turning away, he passed the illusion and walked into his quiet home.

 Arc 1 complete

    Hello,


    I am planning on doing status updates to keep you guys informed of the stories progress. Words ratings and what not. Let me know if you guys want me to keep doing this or not. Also, don''t forget to leave your impressions of the first arc. If you have any questions, post them here on the comment section and I will answer them.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


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    Arc 1 Status : -


    Chapters - 6


    Words - 14100


    Ratings - 4 (5* overall)


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 Chapter 6 - The First of the Green Flashes

    The sun¡¯s rays finally made it to the interior of the cave. Brightening the world, and waking the plethora of animal that inhibited the colorful forest. Hungry hunters will be out stalking, while the plants would be basking in the sun''s return. Yet, its journey across the sky was not a wonderful sight for everybody. No, for Mutasm, it meant he did not get a single wink in all night. He felt his eyes were about to tear themselves out of their sockets, he watched as the little girl rolled on the ground with a beautiful smile gracing her face and energy aplenty. It would have been a sight to warm the heart if he had gotten some sleep. But, unfortunately, every time he closed his eyes for a second, she would wake him up with a whimper or a tiny scratch from her claws.


    Oh, yea, she has super cute and tiny claws on her hands. She would scratch on Mutasm every time she saw him close his eyes. Desperately begging him to stay up with her. It broke his heart when, for the fifth time he dozed of, she had watery eyes and a pouting face. He couldn''t handle the accusation in her eyes, so for the rest of the night, he had stayed awake with her. Rubbing his eyes, he watched as the sun seemed to shine brighter than any day before. It was weird, ever since he had been here, the sun was never this bright. It was as though the sun seemed to be concentrating its entire effort on the cave. But, what Mutasm found even more unusual was the light seemed to run circles around the little girl. It was hard to spot, but it was there and very confusing. Of course, Mutasm put it out of his mind. His eyes were probably just playing tricks on him; that tends to be what happens when he doesn''t get enough sleep.


    Groaning, Mutasm got up, his body felt really sore from all the climbing he had done to get to the cave every day. He would have loved to get a day break from all this struggling to survive. But, he had things he needed to do, even more so considering he had adopted a baby. With shuffling steps, he walked towards the fire he had built to keep warm from the cold that started to come. He needed to make food for both of them. ¡°I wonder if she would eat mashed potatoes?¡± Thought Mutasm as he gathered a few potatoes from his large stash. Washing them with the hot water, he had purified them through boiling. He took his time making the food. It would be pretty bland, but nutritious nevertheless.


    It took great efforts, but eventually, he had her on his lap ready to eat. He had to fight against her wiggling body for quite a while before she had given up escaping, her protruding lip made it obvious where she would rather be - playing around in her blankets. Reaching around her, Mutasm took a small scoop of hot mashed potatoes, bringing it closer to himself, he blew on it. It would not be right to scold the little girl. Bringing it to her mouth, she started to wiggle about even more. Adamant that she eats, Mutasm would not let her go. She needed to stay healthy. Her pouting lips and small tongue sticking out were a strong defense, but with persistence, he eventually won. Having fed her the entire bowl, he had to check on the snares he kept replacing; hoping that something would eventually fall prey to them.


    But, first, he had to make a fence to put her in. The safest place for her would be in the cave, where no one could enter except him. Putting the little girl down, she finally started giggling - triumphing over her captor. Smiling as warmth spread inside of him, he walked to the ropes and larger rocks he had. Tying the rocks with multiple knots then connecting the ropes with another rock on the other end. He made a few that he stacked up on top of each other forming a fence like structure. It might not have been the most efficient fence, but it was enough for the little girl who had yet to learn to crawl. With a large smile, he grabbed the blankets and the little girl who was rolling on them and placed them into the fence; all the while she was nibbling on his arm with non-existent teeth. ¡°Be a good girl and don¡¯t leave this area, understand?¡± he said teasingly, only to see her large blue and gold eyes - taking most of her face - answering in silence. Intelligence, he must have imagined, seemed to shine brightly as they responded to his demand.


    Brows knitted and an awkward smile on his face, he watched as she started to roll around again. For a while he watched, and she never once went near the fence limits. Scratching his head, he turned away towards the illusion. With a heavy sigh, he began walking to the outside. He hated exposing himself to the dangers of the world out there, but the snares and wild vegetables were not going to be brought to him on a silver platter. No, he would need to check for them himself. Grabbing a few ropes, he quietly snuck into the cold weather and under the rays of the sun. Standing at the edge of the ledge, he threw down the ropes. With ease, he climbed down the handholds without issue, it had become second nature to him after so long. His feet were still without cover, the soles landing on the cold and wet ground had him shivering. ¡°It''s getting cold. I need to stock up a lot of food, or we will die,¡± said Mutasm, recognizing the likelihood he would survive hunting in the freezing temperatures. Then again, with only a flimsy - torn up - pajama for cover and a knife in his hand, he would probably die of frostbite before anything killed him if he left the warmth of the cave. Shrugging the rope he had taken with him onto his shoulder, he started to walk into the forest.


    Following his routine, he began to head towards the snares he had set up. It was quicker just to reset them, then search for wild vegetables. All the traps would usually be broken to smithereens or left untouched - the animals to smart. The first few were like always; their rhythm never broken. The first and second were always utterly destroyed, the trees around them smashed to tiny bits. These two were still anxiety-inducing. He could never come near them without feeling tremendous butterflies in his stomach, or his mind trying to rationalize a million different reasons to not check on them. Something pretty big and dumb keeps getting stuck in the snares. Or it could have been a whole lot of big and dumb animals. With a sigh of relief, he picked up the remains of the ropes - the usable ones - and moved the snares a bit further out to an area that had not been decimated by the flailing of the animals.


    The next three were usually left untouched every night. The animals around this area must be too smart to get caught or learned after the first time. Finally checking on them, he sighed at how useless they felt. But the next few were the ones he had the most hope in. They always caught an animal, but they would escape by cutting the snares. It would not have been surprising to find a few rabbits out there with ropes tied tightly to their legs running about. Pushing through the bushes, he felt the usual small shock. Yet, it was much more reserved. It didn''t hurt him as much as before, nor did he feel zapped. It was like he was getting used to the feeling, which is something he couldn''t understand. How would he get used to electricity running through him? It was also the same with the goosebump vegetables; every meal he had of them, the fewer shivers he would get until recently, he barely felt anything at all from them.


    Continuing on to the sixth snare he had set up, he froze with a leg about to land. His entire body not moving an inch. Listening carefully, he heard the rustling of branches and the struggle of an animal in distress. From the sounds it was making, it was alone and most importantly caught in his snare! Smiling a wicked smile, Mutasm barely held himself from rushing in like a madman. Slowly, he put down the ropes and carefully walked towards his prey, his right hand - holding the whittling knife - shaking from anticipation. He noticed how much the little girl hated the mashed potatoes, she probably had been fed meat and detested her vegetables; like all children would rather be inclined to do. Mutasm felt this moment to be a defining one; he would finally be able to catch a source of meat. Salivating at the image of roasted squirrels and rabbits, he gulped audibly as he finally broke past the bushes.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Coming out, he saw the- ¡°Damn, you are one massive rabbit!¡± exclaimed Mutasm. This was the mother of all giant rabbits. With one foot raised into the air by the snare he had placed, it was somehow still touching the ground with its front two paws comfortably and its right back paw extending enough to barely touch the ground as well. It also had a massive amount of tendrils coming out of its back sway around. Colored completely in gold and with a massive unicorn horn, it stood at least four feet into the air. ¡°You''re supposed to be hanging! An easy catch!¡± complained Mutasm as he circled the beast, no, the prey. And he was the predator.


    Be the predator! Be the predator!


    Mutasm repeated to himself, over and over again to motivate himself; a mantra he needed to believe in. Especially considering he will have a first-hand experience of how the tendrils work. The farther right he circled, the rabbit would reorient itself by hoping to look at him with horn bared ready to fight back and tendrils swaying menacingly. Holding his knife with white knuckles, he felt his hands become a bit clammy and his head heavy. But, the longer he continued to focus on this, the more those nervous feelings lessened and a new one - one he was quite unfamiliar with in this world - came. He felt his blood pumping a million miles per second, and his mind and eyes felt extremely clear. Adrenalin was blasting its way through his body in preparation of a fight he needed to win. It was unusual, Mutasm had played sports, but the effects were always much more reserved than this. As hard to believe as it was, but he felt great.


    With a release of his breath, he rushed towards the golden rabbit that had clear and entirely black eyes. The rabbit noticed this and began to swing its horn in warning, but he was undeterred by this show of strength. The length of the horn doesn''t matter if it can¡¯t connect. As he rushed to the right, he quickly faked his movements in that direction and jumped to the left. Falling for the maneuver, the rabbit had thrust its horn in that direction, only to hit the air instead of the flesh it expected. Quickly it swung the horn towards Mutasm as he lept towards it, whittling knife barred to sink into the fluffy golden rabbit; cuteness be damned. With a grunt, Mutasm felt himself pass right through the ethereal tendrils and landed on top of the rabbit. But his grunt wasn''t from the cold feeling he felt pass through him from them. No, it was because the horn had grazed the side of his waist as it sung around causing a cut. Gritting his teeth at the pain, he closed his eyes with effort as he kept stabbing the rabbit with the knife. No matter how fluffy the rabbit looked and felt, he needed to eat some meat.


    Slowly, the struggling animal stopped moving and bellowing in pain as it died. The blood it had, spewing out of it from the plethora of wounds and stabs he had caused. Finally, after what felt like ages to Mutasm, it stopped moving entirely. Pushing himself off of it, he laid on his back, with a hand on his wound and the other placed on his forehead. The tendrils were ethereal in nature and did not react in any way when the rabbit had attacked him - for that he was eternally grateful. He had imagined being picked up by the massive tentacle-like extremities then tossed around like a rag doll.


    Breathing out a tired sigh, he felt the adrenaline leave his system. The adrenaline boost had felt like a drug, and it was terrific, but now he was feeling the withdrawal effects. His entire body hurt - head throbbing, arms and legs shaking in exertion. The cut was a dull thrum of pain in the background highlighting all the others with a burning sensation. Thankfully, while it did hurt, it was not life-threatening and a shallow cut. He needed to wash it and keep it clean, but that wasn''t really a difficult task. The difficult task was getting a clean piece of cloth to cover it.


    With a sudden startle, he heard a massive rumbling near him. Getting up to a sitting position, his head swiveled like crazy trying to find the source of the noise. Until finally it fell on a massive leopard that was colored in gray and spotted with purple and green dots. The leopard snarled and bared its teeth at him. It was a sight that caused Mutasm great fright, even more so since fog seemed too continually come out of its feet; obscuring most of its lower body. Like the rabbit, it also had the ethereal tendrils that were massive in size. With a sudden moment of Eureka, it made sense that the leopard was here. All the ropes were cut with proficiency, not torn away by a fleeing animal. It must have been taking advantage of the snares to get an easy meal. And now, he would be its easy meal.


    Unable to move from shock and the sudden lack of energy after the battle, all he could do was watch the leopard¡¯s chest rumble as it growled. Steadily he watched it bare its fangs, demanding he stay away from its meal. Its ethereal tendrils seemed to reach for the dead rabbit, trying to pull it apart. Mutasm watched as it stopped and faced him completely, lowering itself, it tightened its muscles and prepared to leap towards him for the kill. All the while, he could not do anything about it. He felt his arms were too heavy to move and his legs seemed to be unresponsive. Unaccustomed to being so close to a predator, he froze in his spot - fear taking hold of him.


    Just as it was about to jump, a pulse of green light from above Mutasm¡¯s head gave it pause. Mutasm had completely forgotten about the green wisp of light that seemed to hover just above his head everywhere he went. He tried to look up at it, but it stayed perfectly above the flat of his head, making it impossible to look at. Roaring in anger, the leopard started taking steps back. Confused, Mutasm was finally able to gather himself; he turned around and pushed his limp body up to run. Hearing another roar, a blast of intense green light covered the entire area, blinding both Mutasm and the leopard. Bumbling through the forest with one arm covering his wound and the other covering his eyes, he tried to get as far away from it as possible, only to crash into a solid wall. Disoriented, he fell back with a groan of pain and eyes still adjusting to the sudden shift of light.


    As the glare went away, he found himself in front of his cave - right at the handholds. Jaw slowly dropping, he stared in awe and surprise. ¡°How did I end up here? What happened? Wasn''t I being chased by the leopard?¡± said Mutasm with a voice filled with confusion. Had he been teleported? If so, how, why, and who did it? Laying on his back, he moved his sight towards the clear sky. He needed time to understand what just happened.


    Sprawling about, he extended his legs and hands. Touching something wet and furry, he flinched and quickly got up into a kneeling position. Eyes wide, he saw the dead rabbit laying there next to him in its fully horned and golden glory. Yet, its dead form did not have the rotten tendrils he had seen before. This, once again, gave credence to his theory of it being invisible to everyone but him. Then again, he couldn''t care less at the moment. Finally something, incredibly weird, but good happened to him.


    Salivating at the thought of meat he grabbed the right foot of the rabbit. The second he did, he instantly regretted it. He felt an incredible shock run through him. ¡°F-fu¡­¡± Unable to finish the exclamation he fell back onto the floor shaking from the extreme zap he had felt. Yet again he was proven that good things never come without baggage.

 Chapter 7 - The Butterfly Blotting Out the Sun And A New Hope

    It took a while, but Mutasm eventually got control of his extremities and well, everything below his neck. ¡°Damn rabbit, causing me problems even after death,¡± cursed Mutasm to himself. Slowly getting up, he looked around the area he had been laying in. If the being was kind enough to transport him and the rabbit, then his ropes should be here too. Finding them closer to the forest line, he got up with a stumbling gait and, as fast as his electrified body could take him, he grabbed them then hurried back to the rabbit.


    Mumbling to himself as many curses as he could think of about the rabbit, his left eye kept twitching from the remaining static energy in his body. Taking his time, he tied the end of a rope - with extreme caution - to the back foot of the massive critter and the other end onto his left hand. Keeping the length as short as possible, walked towards the handholds and began to climb. Everytime he extended his right arm a sharp pain erupted from the wound to his side. Once he reached the platform, he quickly sat down with a groan of pain, he needed to clean the wound then cauterize it. He did not need an infection to add to his growing list of worries.


    Closing his eyes, he pushed his body through the pain and made it to the ledge. Hiding behind the wall, he peered in. Wondering what cute antic had the little girl done this time. But as his eyes adjusted, he found her in the fence and soundly asleep under a bright pink blanket. The day had been pretty bad until now, but seeing that scene made him feel like it was worth it. He needed to skin and gut the animal, but without her noticing, so finding her asleep was fortuitous; he couldn''t have her watch as he cut up an animal and blood splattering everywhere.


    Groaning, he flicked his forehead, he should have done all that when he was down there. How was he supposed to clean the mess if he did it inside the cave? Pulling the animal behind him, he lowered it down to the ground from the edge of the ledge. Walking back into the cave, he quietly snuck through to his stash of branches and pot of warm and clean water. Grabbing a few of the sturdier stick, he also tied the pot of water with ropes. Taking them with him, he threw the sticks down and lowered the water carefully. Splashing a bit, he almost dropped it by wincing in pain from the wound.


    As the pot landed, he kept the long ropes on the ledge so he can easily pull the pot back up. Sighing, he walked down the platform, but as he was about to lower himself to the first handhold, a pulse of green light shot out from the wisp above him. Sitting there he looked around confused, didn''t it flash last time because a predator was going to attack him? Narrowing his eyes, he watched the area around him - from the tree line until the rabbit he had yet to prepare.


    Yet, nothing stood out except the green flashing light. For a while, nothing happened, and Mutasm''s confusion grew with it. But, with a sudden blast of light that seemed to cover the entire world, he felt an extreme amount of wind suddenly assaulted him. Almost pushing him down from the platform. Waving his hands around, he scrambled to grab anything to prevent his fall. Just as quickly as the wind arrived, it disappeared, leaving him with a better chance at regaining his balance. With great luck, his hands found purchase on a lonely handhold above the platform. Grabbing it with the tips of his right hand, he pulled with everything he could. Given enough time, he put his left on the edge of the platform and pulled himself up.


    Instead of sitting, he fell to his stomach clutching the wound. He made it wider with using that much strength on his right hand. A small whimper of pain escaped his lips, but he was determined to keep his mouth shut, the last thing he needed to do was attract anything with his cries or even worse, wake up the little girl. If she sleeps, then he sleeps. A few minutes of deep breathing and biting his lips was all it took to have him getting up. The pain wasn''t as extreme as he was used to, then again he had never been cut that badly before. Putting it out of his mind, he slowly climbed down the handholds and came to his things. A lot of water had splashed out from the pot because of the wind, but it was enough to clean the animal after the gutting and skinning.


    After a long and arduous session of cutting up the cute and fluffy rabbit, Mutasm had clean strips of meat, a large piece of fluffy rabbit hide he had cleaned up and hung on the ledge to dry, and a two and a half foot long unicorn''s horn. Mutasm planned to carve it into a bone sword. But that would be a tough task, he couldn''t directly touch the horn, especially the bulge - completely circular and a bit larger than a tennis ball - near the end that was hidden by the fluff and skull of the rabbit. Unlike the creamy white of the horn, the bulge was golden with swirls of light blue. It seemed to shine a brilliant gold, but with the sun''s intense rays unabated by any clouds or a canopy of leaves and branches, it was difficult to tell.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    The bulge was also, Mutasm found out after zapping himself three times in a row, the part that caused the shock when he touched the dead animal. It seemed to be the energy source it relied on to fight. He also guessed that when he fought it, the so-called energy had been channeled into the horn. Giving it an incredible sharpness that caused the cut in his side by simply grazing it. It was incredibly potent and made Mutasm giddy with joy at the thought of carrying a lightning sword. And even the thousand-year-old blade of the whittling knife had a hard time causing any mark on it.


    ¡°Those devil rabbits won''t be able to threaten me anymore. And I can finally have a reliable source of meat,¡± said Mutasm enthusiastically to himself. Accomplishing this was a significant boost to his self-esteem and moral. Having reached the lowest point ever in his life, he had somehow made it until this point alive. Giving a small prayer, he thanked whoever was looking after him, whether it be by coincidence or plan.


    But as he prayed, another flash of green light erupted from above him. Unlike before, these pulses were much stronger, forcing Mutasm to close his eyes every time. ¡°What''s going on?¡± Screamed Mutasm to himself. Not expecting a response, he jumped at the blast of sound that exploded around him. An incredible amount of wind pressed on him, and with the roar, that was so powerful he felt pushed a little and enough to fall on his back, Mutasm knew there was a predator, and the green light was going to save him one more time. Staring up at the sky, the green flashes getting faster and faster, Mutasm saw what caused this to happen, up above, swooping down towards him was a butterfly. Yes, the scene made little sense, but considering the butterfly had a wingspan that was at least forty feet. That was what it seemed like because it blotted out a large portion of the sky.


    Mutasm did not really focus on any details, because the only thing he could seem to see was the mouth full of brown and red teeth and its grasping long and thin limbs that were utterly black; all of it was covered by the rhythmic pulsing of light. Teeth chattering and body frozen, he watched as it got closer faster every second, and directly proportional to that, the speed of the pulsing light increased. It butterfly had come so close to him that he could smell the rot and death that oozed from the butterflies mouth. Its long limb reached out and almost touched him, only a few feet away, but before it could grab him, an all-encompassing green light covered the entire area once again. Forced to shut his eyes, he curled up into a ball, clutching his shaking hands he put them to his chest. A few seconds passed, but nothing occurred. No death maw began chewing on him, nor did any grasping limbs grab him. Shivering in his spot, he stayed there as the green light faded away. Even though he knew it was probably gone, he stayed huddled there to afraid the butterfly was still coming for him.


    ¡°D-Damn this horrific world! H-How am I supposed to survive? H-how?¡± He questioned to himself as tears began to slowly crawl down his cheeks. The pain in his chest seemed to grow, a sadness he never felt before started to creep across his heart. A depression took hold, his lack of ability to get food, clean clothes, a comfy home, even shoes made it all the worse.


    Sniffing, he tried to sob as quietly as possible. He probably would have died the very first night if he hadn''t found the cave, and even then it just delayed the inevitable. Maybe he should just end it all himself, a better way to go than being eaten alive by some monstrosity. As this line of thought continued to spiral down to the ways he could end it, a particular image bloomed in his mind. One of the little girl rolling in absolute bliss, utterly oblivious to the many issues they were bound to face.


    I can''t leave her alone. She-she would die if I ended this all. I promised her mother I would take care of her.


    Thought Mutasm, grabbing the last strings of hope with all his might. How could he leave such a cute little girl to a fate filled with death; slow and agonizing, considering she was stuck in the cave alone for eternity. She might die of starvation, dehydration, or from the freezing cold of the night. Imagining her shivering in the cave, while the light blankets covered her. Tears slowly dripping down her eyes, and tiny sniffles from a cold that had begun to take hold. Confused by why Mutasm had yet to return to the cave and worried he might have gotten hurt. That image stuck, in his mind. Try as he might, but it would not go away. He just couldn''t leave her to her fate.


    If he couldn''t continue to live for himself, then at the very least he would live for her, or until she became old enough to take care of herself. Then he could just fade away from it all to a peaceful and uninterrupted existence. With a sudden entrance into his mind, she had become the most important thing to him mentally. If she were gone, then he wouldn''t have a reason to continue living in a world that seemed to want to kill him at every moment.


    The little girl had literally become his Hope.

 Chapter 8 - A Sacrifice To Be Made For Hope

    Mutasm sat on the cold and hard ground of the cave. A crackling fire of green and purple swayed rhythmically in front of him, large enough to keep the entire area warm. Little light entered from the stormy weather of this night. The wind whistled as it was wont to do, trees blowing in its currents, and the leaves danced to its song. The moon was covered by thick and black clouds, reminiscent of smog or ash from a volcano than those of storms. It made no sense to him, then again little made sense to Mutasm in this world.


    To keep the cold out, he had hung one of Hope''s blankets from one side of the cave to the other; on the edges of the reflective surfaces. It stopped most of the cold winds and falling droplets of rain. Anything that made it past either fell short of reaching them or was blocked out by the heat of the fire. To add to the gloomy atmosphere of the night, the animals of the forest were going berserk. Multitudes of howls, rumbling roars, and growls filled the night. Something was happening, and Mutasm did not want any part to do with it. What made him more disconcerted was all that noise seemed to be very close to the cave. If he had been a touch crazier, than he already was, he would have thought they were gathering in front of the ledge. Of course, he was by far too afraid to go look. And the illusion should be enough to keep them out, he hoped.


    ¡°You could do this, Mutasm. Grit your teeth and be a man,¡± he quietly whispered to himself. Hope was asleep, covered in layers of blankets. And he, wanting to get some shut-eye in the night was determined to keep her that way. Breathing in and out heavily, Mutasm raised the red blade of the whittling knife from the fire. Closing his eyes, he raised his right arm up and brought the hot knife close to the wound on his side; close enough that he felt the heat radiating off of it. It has been three days since that horrific day, and Mutasm had yet to cauterize it. After washing it, he had become too afraid of the pain to literally burn it shut.


    He also couldn''t eat any meat from the rabbit. His conscience had begun to play games with him. The thought of eating it after seeing what he had made him feel evil and cruel. That day, broken as he had been, he walked into the cave with the clean meat, hide, and horn. Preparing a bit of meat, he placed it on a fire that took him quite a bit to start with his shaky hands. Almost giving up, it was a relief to his damaged mind when the first sparks came.


    Setting the meat on the fire, the colors had begun to change. Instead of the purple, green, and dirty brown, Mutasm had been used to, a red fire with bright gold highlighting the outermost part came. Confused, Mutasm waited for a while, until with a massive whomph, the fire expanded, almost doubling in size for a moment before returning to its previous state. That had Mutasm jumping back and muttering a million curses under his breath so Little Hope would not be startled or more importantly to him, learn any of the things he had exclaimed.


    Once the fire had calmed down, the golden highlights crawled towards the center and on the ashes that had been set. An orb of a gold form rotating clockwise at a fast pace. Mesmerized, Mutasm stared at the moving images, the gold began to morph to awkward shapes, until finally a single image stuck. That made his heart catch. ¡°Oh God,¡± he quietly said to himself. In front of him, within the fire, colored completely golden was an image of the rabbit as a baby. Large eyes, droopy ears and the inability to move.


    It took a while for the meat to cook properly, but as it hit perfection, the scene that had Mutasm bewitched finally finished. Small tears slowly crawled their way down his cheek. ¡°Why is everything so hard? Why can''t I just eat my meat?¡± Said Mutasm after having watched the entire life of the animal pass by in a golden flare. Smelling the juicy meat, and oblivious to Mutasm''s inner struggle, Hope finally woke up. With a cute and high pitched growl from her stomach, she sat up and extending her hands she gave a tiny cry, begging Mutasm to pick her up. Unable to stop himself, he had picked her up and feed her the meat he so badly wanted to eat, but couldn''t because of a heavy conscience.


    ¡°Do it! Do it!¡± said Mutasm to himself in a muffled voice. Biting on a rope he had made, he pressed the red blade on the wound. Bending his body away from the edge - though it helped little in getting away - he groaned from the pain that lanced through his entire right side. He let it continue longer until he was sure the wound had been completely cauterized. Finished, he let the blade fall from his hand. Looking back at Hope''s fenced area, he thankfully found her still soundly asleep.


    Letting out a sigh of relief, he reached out to pull on a rope tied to the unicorn horn he had gotten from the corpse of the rabbit. The bulge was as unusual as normal, shining like a night light he had back home. Nostalgic, he pulled it close enough to him. The past few days had been an excellent time for making this. With absolutely no desire to walk out of the cave, and enough food to last them a month - maybe more - he had no reason to. So, for hours on end, he had worked on sharpening the longhorn, he guessed with everything, including the bulge and the seven-inch area after the bulge it had come out to be a really nice short sword he could use.


    Picking up the knife he had dropped, he pressed on the area he had added some on the rabbits hide onto. Having tied it to the bottom of the entire horn - after the bulge - he learned that it somehow stopped the shocks from passing on to him. It made for a comfortable handle to his superweapon. Pressing the knife there, he continued to finish wrapping it, a small smile appearing on his face. These small accomplishments might not have seemed much, but to him, they were enormous moral boosts. Maybe everything isn''t trying its best to go wrong.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    It took a while, but he finally finished the handle. Picking it up with his hands wearily, he walked a bit further away and swung it around. For a good five minutes, he kept swinging the bone sword, trying to get a feel for the weapon. ¡°Tomorrow I am going to finish sharpening you,¡± said Mutasm as he caressed the blade a millimeter from actually touching it. From that far, he could feel a buzzing of energy that begged for release; a comfortable feeling in tiny doses.


    Putting it back in its place, he decided it was time to go to sleep. Shambling his way past the fire, he walked to Hope''s little fenced area. Picking her and her blankets up, he sat down near the fire for warmth. Cradling her on his lap, he closed his eyes to get some sleep sitting up. The world blurred and he finally back to black oblivion he so desperately wanted.


    <hr>


    Groaning, Mutasm covered his eyes from a bright light that seemed impossible to get rid of. Opening one eye, he looked about in the blackness of the cave. The fire had died out, and only hot embers and ash remained. Slowly as his eye''s blurriness went away, he noticed a pulse of green from the entrance of the cave. Blocked out by the blanket he had hanged up, only the far outlines made it through. And even those barely made it to him.


    ¡°What is going on?¡± Said Mutasm as the animals¡¯ roaring and howling seemed even louder than before. With a sudden glaring flash of green, the light solidified into one non-pulsing shine. Covering his eyes and Hope''s, it had become so strong, it passed through the blanket. Something was wrong, so very wrong with this scene. Was the entire forest covered in the light? Or was it something that just happened. As he continued to think about it, a sudden wind that ripped the blanket from its outpost blasted its way into the cave. Covering Hope with his back faced towards the wind, Mutasm''s mind began running countless possibilities, yet he could not even find one that sounded realistic.


    A low groaning sound erupted from the entrance like a hulking tree had begun to tear near the base; falling down to its death. Louder and louder it became until Hope woke up with a startle that broke Mutasm''s heart. ¡°It''s going to be okay,¡± he lied, not really sure if he was trying to convince the little girl or himself. A feminine voice screamed from out there. Looking back, Mutasm gulped and eyes dilated in fear. Mouth open wide, the owner of the scream was clear to him. With hands spread out, head tilted up - mouth open wide, showing sharp little green teeth - and legs straight, she was the source of the green light. It tore its way from her body like an aura made physical. Her toes were barely touching the floor of the ledge; floating without strings.


    As her scream continued, she slowly began to move towards the illusion. Mutasm hoped it would solidify and prevent her from coming any closer. This was worse than the few nightmares he has ever had. The pure shock the woman had caused was greater than anything else he had ever experienced. The moment of truth came as the illusion began to fluctuate; waves running across its surface. But with a pop, a hole opened up large enough that she can pass through. Holding Hope closer to him, the green light started to get dimmer, and the creature completely passed the illusion; it closed after her like nothing happened.


    Hope''s little whimpers broke him off of his stupor, he had been holding her too tightly. Releasing his grip a bit, he slid his knees towards the blade he had made. Grabbing the covered handle, he sat back on to his bottom, his left hand holding Hope and the other with the bone sword pointing at the creature. He saw Hope''s head turn around to stare at the monster. And she began growling cute growls that would have had him gushing over her if the situation was any different.


    Eventually, enough light from the woman was gone for him to make out details. She was made entirely of twisting vines and branches. Completely green, the only thing not that color was the gnarled crown of purple and brown branches on her head. Her eyes were hollow, and a pulsing orb of green sat in the middle of her chest between her cleavage. Mouth open, she had sharp green teeth. Her fingertips and toes looked sharp enough to cut through metal. That belief was reinforced as her toes touch the floor from her floating position. A grating sound similar to nails on a board caused Mutasm to cringe, and Hope to whimper in irritation and distress.


    The Child! Give me the Child!


    A voice screamed in Mutasm''s mind. Demanding it follow its commands. He felt a physical force affecting him, but it was passive at best. Shaking his head, he looked up at the screaming woman who had her hands extended in front of her. He knew it was her who demanded it, and that his life was at stake. Yet, through it all, he denied her. He did not need to speak any words nor think them at all. No, his fear stricken face hardened a bit after hearing her. Hope had become to sole reason for him to continue living this pitiful excuse of a life. And he would be damned if he ever gave her to such monsters.


    The Child! I demand the Child! Giver her to me!


    Pulling Hope closer to him, he swung the bone sword in warning. The fear in his body leaving as an adrenaline high took its place. ¡°N-Never,¡± stuttered Mutasm in reply. As he swung his sword one more time, the being stopped moving and landed on her feet. Her screaming stopped as she began to wave her hand. A force unseen pulled the bone sword from his hands and towards hers.


    With her actual voice, she said, ¡°Foolish creature, haveth you no thought? Using the remnants of mine children against me? Does thou''s mind falter from the fear? I control everything in mine forest and are but a guest. Shall thou deny my hospitality and protection? Or thee gift I had given thou, in the form of a krot¨¢lisma filled critter.¡± Her voice was sickly sweet but had an undertone of absolute power and authority. Mutasm did not move, his face remained the same, unwilling to relent no matter what.


    The creature of nature stood there for a long time, just staring into his eyes. And he unwilling to lose at all. But slowly, her legs began to shake, and a drunken look passed her face. ¡°Oh! The sacrifice,¡± it moaned in absolute bliss. ¡°Two in a decade,¡± it continued as it fell to its knees breathing heavily. Its hollow eyes became crescents of joy as her mouth lolled open a bit. ¡°Feed me more,¡± it said in an erotic whisper. ¡°Give me power,¡± with a massive shudder that left Mutasm confused and very weirded out, the being fell to its hands. Completely out of breath and in a state of relief.

 Chapter 9 - Mi?ka of the Forest and Sacrifice

    Mutasm watched as the creature sat there breathing heavily. He watched as she seemed to shudder with a mouth lolled open and eyes that rose up to make moons of bliss and ecstasy. Slowly, a string of drool crawled down from her mouth to the edge of her sharp chin. As though timed stopped, the drool hung there unmoving, unchanging, until finally, it fell as a large droplet. Splashing on the ground, Mutasm flinched as it splattered. Less and less made sense to him every day, but this takes the cake. What could possibly cause something like this to happen? Wasn''t she trying to kill him? Or at the very least scare him to death?


    Mutasm looked towards the bone sword near the thing. It had fallen out of its, well her, hands as she shuddered her way to the ground. As he stared at it, he wondered how much time he had before she woke up. And if he would be able to reach the sword, with Hope in his hands, before her noticing him. Of course, he would probably not make it in time with having just cauterized his wound and putting Hope down was undoubtedly out of the options. He most likely would not be able or willing to let go of her for the next few days. He couldn''t lose her, anything in the entire world but her.


    Holding her a bit tighter than necessary - as though it would cause a difference - Hope started to growl again; cute and high pitched. But Mutasm did not loosen his grip, he thought she was growling at the intruder rather than his hug. Instead, he turned his body sideways to keep hope on the other side of the creature. But as the moment continued, Hope began to scratch his shoulder with her tiny claws. Being so small, they were more of an irritation than actually being able to give him a cut. So, he ignored it as he stared at the thing. The lady of vines had begun to regain her senses, her mouth started to close, and her droopy body became straighter and with a purpose.


    Letting out a big sigh that had Mutasm crawling a bit further back, the lady looked up towards them with half-closed eyes; an improvement to her previous look. Her drunken stupor quickly receding, and her hollow eyes focusing on them. A small smile started to spread, as though she saw something funny. All the while, Hope seemed adamant to escape the vice grip Mutasm had her in. Almost a second instinct to escape any hold on her no matter from who. Finally reaching a breaking point, Hope could not stand for this any longer.


    All Mutasm felt as he continued to stare at the lady was a wet clenching of gums on his shoulder. Slowly turning his head, with a look of utter confusion, he found Hope slobbering all over his shoulder trying to get a good grip for her bit. The confusion quickly passed, and a warm smile took its place. Even in the most distressing situations, Hope was always there being her usual cute self. Losing himself, he was startled back to reality by a foreign giggle he did not recognize.


    Swiveling his head, he yelled in horror as the being suddenly appeared directly in front of him. Face tilted to the left and uncomfortably close for comfort, especially considering the enormous smile she had on her face. Showing all her sharp needle-like teeth to an already frightened Mutasm. Jumping back, he heard Hope giggle at his reaction. Doing the same, the lady allowed herself to fall over on her back. Laughing, she clutched her stomach and begun rolling around. While Hope seeing the lady''s antics wanted to get away and copy her. Rolling on the ground or her blankets seemed to be her go-to thing for fun.


    Frightened out of his mind, Mutasm quickly rushed back towards the wall behind them, fighting against Hope''s continues efforts to get away. Slamming his back onto the wall, he picked up the biggest stick he had from the stash that was near him. ¡°W-Who are you?¡± Said Mutasm as he pointed the sharp end of the stick in the lady''s direction. Hearing this, her laughter stopped, and she sat up resting herself on her elbow in a comfortable lying position.


    ¡°Oh, you''re such a bore,¡± said the lady with an exaggerated frown and a wave of her hand. ¡°Can''t we play? Even for a second? And I was trying my best to sound like those pompous gods of the Gyv¨±nai,¡± groaned the lady as though she had been wronged. Mutasm''s mouth dropped a bit in absolute incredulity. Hadn''t she just demanded he gives her the baby? Hadn''t she threatened his life?


    ¡°Stop it,¡± she commanded with finality in her voice. Her frown deepening as she watched Mutasm''s face change from fear to confusion, and finally settling on incredulity. ¡°You''re going to make yourself look old. Even the Oracle tries to look as young as possible. What good would losing your youthful complexion do for you?¡± she asked, waving her hand around. Mutasm tried responding, but with a snap of her fingers, she easily cut him off.


    ¡°Wha-¡±


    Baring her teeth like an animal, she began breathing heavily from her nose. ¡°If I wanted you dead, you would have never left the meadow in one piece. Alive or otherwise,¡± exclaimed the lady. Pushing her upper body up, she folded her feet under her. Rubbing her chin, she spoke with a bit less intensity, ¡°I guess I do owe you an explanation for entering your home without your approval. Wouldn''t want any stain on my soul. Sorting these things can be such a hassle.¡±


    Sighing, she gestured for him to sit. It was apparent she was going to wait for him, no matter how long. Then again, what could he probably lose in listening to her explain everything he needed to know. More so considering he knew that living in the cave was not the best long-term plan - it was evident that winter was coming from the drop in temperature. Sitting down a ways from her, he put Hope on his lap and wrapped his left hand around her while his right rubbed her head. She was pushing her head into his palm, enjoying the rub more than he thought possible.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Smiling a bit, he looked up to the lady. ¡°Okay, I sat down. What do you have to say for all the suffering you have caused Little Hope and me,¡± demanded Mutasm from her. It seemed like she spoke of evening out her karma. So he would make it as hard as possible for her. Scrunching up her face, the lady seemed to struggle to speak. Taking a deep breath, she allowed her body to droop as a sly smile appeared on her face.


    ¡°That is a lot to sort out. Might as well as start with an introduction. I am Mi?ka, Ruler of this here Forest, and forest in general,¡± she said as her arms waved in a large circle around her. ¡°I am what you can call a goddess of a domain. In this domain, like all, I get three things that help me stay as the goddess,¡± she continued, raising a hand in front of her held up three fingers. ¡°The first is a power to be bestowed. I am given something, that I can inherently use and give to others, from my domain. It does not give me anything but the ability to use it,¡± she continued, lowering a finger in the process.


    Pausing, she watched to see whether Mutasm understood everything she had said. Receiving a nod of affirmation, she spoke again, ¡°The second is a passive way to gain power and fill up our domains with krot¨¢lisma. Mine is overflowing and abundant as you have seen.¡± A smile of accomplishment and pride showed on her face.


    Looking a bit confused, Mutasm asked, ¡°I have?¡± Frowning again, but this time in disappointment, she nodded her head. ¡°Yes, haven''t you torture yourself by constantly eating from my forest and touching almost everything filled with krot¨¢lisma. The first time you zapped yourself, I laughed until I couldn''t breathe.¡± Eye twitch, Mutasm had to make sure he understood what she was saying, ¡°So, you''re saying that the trees, bushes, and animals are so filled by this energy, krot¨¢lisma, that they feel like they crackle and zap?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said impatiently. ¡°My source of energy is the cycle of life. I have been blessed with such a powerful passive boost. When anything dies or is born, a bit of energy that gathers to place or remove the soul is dispersed into the surroundings. As the goddess of this domain, I have a divine right to use it at will - with limits of course.¡± She lowered the second finger as Hope started to become more restless, the head-scratching was not enough anymore. So, she occupied herself by chewing and slobbering all over Mutasm''s hand and fingers.


    Smiling at her antics, He nodded his head for Mi?ka to continue. ¡°The third is a rare boost of power to my own energies. It has to be one that has been recognized as difficult to achieve. Some happen more than others, but the rarer it is, the more power is received. Mine is Sacrifice, and as such, I did what I had done for you to sacrifice everything for someone else. Including her mothers, it has been decades if not more since I had such an ecstasy-inducing experience,¡± smiling slyly, her eyes narrowed into crescents again as she remembered the feeling.


    ¡°I have a question,¡± said Mutasm breaking Mi?ka out of her reverie. Clearing his throat at the awkward way she had looked. ¡°What are the see-through, evil looking, and hideous tentacles supposed to be?¡± He asked, but regretted it instantly. An intensity greater than what she showed before leaked out of her in visible waves. Her eyes were wide open, and mouth closed in a straight line. Mutasm looked down at Hope only to find her completely unaffected.


    Sweat crawled down his back as he shook in his spot. He felt like the entire world was placed on to his shoulders. He felt his shoulders were being pushed inwards to his chest and his skull into his neck. Letting out a groan he barely heard her harsh whisper. ¡°Are you telling tales? Or can you truly see? Lie to me, and I will make sure you never die; suffering an endless torment the gods of death would recoil in fear once I release you,¡± her voice was no longer the same. A depth he could not have believed lined every syllable she uttered. Her voice seemed beyond the boundaries of age, having lived longer than what was conceivable.


    ¡°I swear, I am telling the truth. Everything in the forest has them, even the people I saw that left Hope in the forest. Only us three are the only ones without it. Please, I can''t breathe,¡± begged Mutasm. He felt like he was at the bottom of an ocean. The world wavered around him, and a darkness invaded the edges of his sight. With a wave of her hand, the pressure disappeared like it had never existed. Breathing heavily, Mutasm looked up to see Mi?ka looking to her left with a faraway look.


    Sighing sadly, Mi?ka spoke with a pain laced voice. ¡°It is my greatest failure. When the world had just started to spring life, two diverging paths were given to us all. I failed to lead everyone to the right path.¡± Shaking her head, her sly smile returned and her sadness hidden under layers of emotions and falseness. Mutasm did not know what it felt like to hold such an enormous burden on one''s shoulders, and even more so when one fails.


    ¡°The Vitsaus is a blight that consumes everything born after its ascension. Anything born or somehow reaches this world has two choices, either to accept its effects and gain krot¨¢lisma. Growing stronger, faster, and for those lucky enough to progress so far, the ability to wield it externally. But in return, you give up most of your morality. The alternate route is to forever remain weak and fragile. With no power to grow stronger.¡± Her smile faltered a bit as she spoke, but to Mutasm it seemed she was adamant she keep the facade that was so easily seen through.


    ¡°Of course, there are some who wish to get the best of both worlds, but even they know there is no true purity. Except in one way,¡± said Mi?ka. This time when she looked into his eyes, there was a seed of regret and loss that hurt Mutasm''s heart. ¡°It''s through my domain of sacrifice. In order for two to stay pure, one must sacrifice all power except those gifted from a domain to their partner. The one sacrificing must suffer extreme pain to give up the blight and the one receiving would always feel ecs-¡± her voice broke, the sadness too much for her to handle.


    Clearing her throat, she continued without stopping, ¡°They would always feel ecstasy from the transferring of power. It is the only way,¡± said Mi?ka as she looked down towards Hope, her meaning clear to both of them. If he wanted to survive in this world, he had to sacrifice Hope. Or he could bank on an uncertain future and pray he does not die before she became strong enough to defend them both.


    Could he sacrifice the only reason he had not ended his life? Could he make that decision?

 Chapter 10 - The Unseen Rotten Tendrils

    Three days passed like a blur. A fog covered Mutasm''s eyes, his mind filled with hundreds of thoughts and in complete turmoil. For the past few days, he did his chores, made food, and put Hope to sleep in a daze. Not focused on anything at all. The sun had just begun to find its way into the cave this morning, but Mutasm didn''t notice it. Even the accidental shocks from touching the tip of the bone sword multiple times, as he sharpened it, could not pull him out of it. Mi?ka also visited him a few times every day. Expecting he had come to a decision every time. Yet, his response was nothing more than a noncommittal grunt that made it clear they were not on the same page. Sighing, she would leave in a huff.


    Why had she given him time to think? Why torture him by giving him the night to think? Did she not know he had a conscience? The longer it lasted, the more he felt horrible for even considering sacrificing the cute Little Hope for his own gain. At the spur of the moment, when she had first given him the option, he would probably have done it, but now it was an entirely different matter. Her large and innocent eyes would stare at him with pure trust. Knowing with absolute certainty that he would never hurt her. That level of faith made it almost impossible to give in to his desire.


    Turning his head towards Hope, playing and rolling around with a smile of joy on her face, she sat in her fence with a doll he had made for her from dry grass. A glum look was plastered on Mutasm¡¯s face, his shoulders unable to pick themselves up and his back too weary to straighten. Sighing, a small smile spread on his face unintentionally. Watching Hope being her adorable self always made him happy; no matter how difficult everything has been. That even made it harder for him. She would continuously feel great pain when sacrificing her power for him to remain pure if he gave in to his desire. Imagining a crying Hope with a pain filled face caused his heart to rise to his throat and heaviness on his entire chest.


    Shaking his head, he sighed again. ¡°I can¡¯t do this to her. We are probably going to die either way horribly. At least my suddenly awakened and holy conscience doesn''t eat me up before then,¡± said Mutasm, reasoning with himself. It was the last push he needed to come to his final resolution. He felt himself get wrinkles just thinking about the pain Mi?ka had promised would happen to the person sacrificing. She had continued to speak after telling him of the only options he had, and it probably was important, but he wasn''t listening then anymore. His mind had been too focused on the fact that one of them had to sacrifice themselves. If it were a person other than Little Hope, or someone much older, he would have done it without a second thought. His life was more valuable to him than the life of a random stranger he met just a few weeks ago.


    ¡°Good Morning!¡± screamed Mi?ka as she bulldozed her way in without the illusion even reacting to her presence. Jumping up startled, he screamed in fright. Looking towards her with wide eyes and a heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, he stared at the crazy lady for a few long seconds. She, used to Mutasm¡¯s overreacting every time to her jolly entrance, walked past him without blinking once -- then again she didn''t have eyelids or eyes to blink with. With a quick pace, she hurried her way, skillfully dodging all the things sprawled across the floor of the cave. Mutasm had been too much in his depressed state to really notice the mess until now. Branches littered the ground, rocks of various sizes, and even the purple potatoes were thrown about everywhere.


    Shaking his head, he got up with a grunt, his aching muscles too tired for any movement. He needed to clean the place up as Mi?ka did her usual. Having made it to Hopes fence, an enormous smile bloomed on her face. Looking towards Mutasm with knowing eyes, she picked up Hope and her doll. Hope, noticing her enter, quickly sat up and raised one hand begging to be picked up from her little prison; the other hand clutching her doll like her life depended on it. ¡°Hello! Little Hope, do you want to play with aunty Mi?ka again?¡± said Mi?ka in greeting to the ball of fluff. Mutasm watching from the corner of his eye was left utterly astonished yet again by how quickly Hope grew. It hadn¡¯t even been a few weeks since all Hope could do was whimper and baby speak. But now, with an incredible amount of understanding in her eyes, she nodded to Mi?ka¡¯s question with an enormous smile of expectation.


    Frozen bent over, right hand extended to pick up a couple of sticks, he stared at them. Mi?ka sat down with Hope and began to roll around with her, both giggling like children the entire time. Mi?ka seemed to be happier than usual today. The past three days she would come in with a ghost of her joyous smile when she had first begun talking to Mutasm. Shaking his head, he probably saw things that were never there; his foggy sight must have made him imagine her solemn mood. Picking the sticks he had his hand wrapped around, he began stacking them back to their corner of the cave, the stones to one of their own, and the food the same.


    It took a while, but he eventually had the entire area cleaned up, and things sorted out. Of course, the only place to be quite the mess was where the two were playing. Sitting down a bit away, he watched them enjoy themselves, Hope giggling crazily, a beautiful smile and crescent eyes made it quite clear how much fun she was having. Once again, he couldn''t help himself. A smile formed on his face, as an invasive nervous feeling invaded his stomach. After what seemed to be a few hours, Hope had finally exhausted herself. Falling asleep in Mi?ka¡¯s arms, she was placed in her fence and covered by her blankets by her.


    Turning towards Mutasm, she walked towards him, sitting down on the opposite side of the cave. Her sly smile never faltered once, as she began to speak, ¡°I assume you''ve finally come to a decision?¡± she asked, knowing full well that he had. ¡°Y-yes, I think so,¡± said Mutasm, the nervous tension that had built up in him taking its effect in his words. Releasing a ragged breath, he tried hardening his face, the moment was too important to look like an idiot. ¡°I-I am going to let her live her life fully. For both of us to stay p-pure, I will,¡± gulping, Mutasm found it harder than he imagined. Saying those words seemed like an impossible task now, but through it, he pushed past the struggle. ¡°I will sacrifice my power or anything I gain from the blight,¡± he quickly said in one breath. Mutasm couldn''t stop halfway, he needed to say it all, or he wouldn''t be able to say any of it.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Mi?ka sly smile turned into one from ear to ear. The smile was so wide, he thought she might snap something in her jaw - if she had anything to snap. ¡°Okay, I will help you get started, but after that, you will have to do it yourself. Before we start do you have any questions for me?¡± said Mi?ka with a voice on the edge of screaming for joy. Mutasm knew that this meant she would have a reliable source of a power boost. Every time he sacrificed what power he could have used to become stronger himself, she would feel the same ecstasy she felt before. In his mind, he looked at it as a drug for her. It had been evident that the ecstasy brought horrible memories up, yet, she could not stop wanting more.


    Then again, who wouldn''t want a way to power up and stay pure at the same time. And from what she had said before, the gods of the Gyv¨±nai -- who seem to be beastkin -- were a pompous group. Anyone who thinks they are better than another will always be extremely dangerous to deal with. She would need as much power as possible to keep her afloat. It also would be essential for her to stay alive thought Mutasm. He planned to demand that she blesses him with the first of her powers. She hadn''t told him what it was, but from what he got from her, it was the only power he could get that he would not be forced to sacrifice to stay pure. Anything no matter what it was would help him greatly.


    ¡°Yes, I want to know what your first power is. You never explained it,¡± said Mutasm, determination lining his face. He had stated his intent on the sacrifice already, and though he still felt butterflies in his stomach, he needed to get as much from her as possible. As he watched for any reaction, her face quickly turned into one of understanding in intent. Frowning, she had not been prepared for him to recall that at the moment. ¡®My first power? Ah, yes, my first power,¡± said Mi?ka as she quickly changed her slip of facade into one of thought and deep contemplation. ¡°Hmm, my first power is quite simple actually. Yet, I am not so sure how it would turn out if I blessed you.¡±


    Closing her eyes, a pulsing green light began to shine from her eyes. Opening them again, she looked at Mutasm with an intensity that made him quite awkward. For long seconds of silence, Mutasm fidgetting in place as he drummed his fingers on his thigh, she sat there staring at him. It felt like she was looking into his soul. Shivering at the thought, he waited, until finally, she drooped her shoulders in exhaustion. Releasing a breath he had not known he held, he had to ask, ¡°Is everything alright?¡± Looking closely, Mi?ka looked like she had just finished a marathon. Taking deep, ragged breaths, body shaking from exertion, and sweat glistening on her green body. It took a bit of time for her to regain any sense of decorum or balance, but she eventually looked up with a frown. ¡°I am not sure it will work on you,¡± exclaimed Mi?ka in between two large deep breaths.


    ¡°Not work on me? Why not?¡± said Mutasm in incredulity, was she being cheap with her powers or was she being serious. It would not be a good sign if she were miserly to someone who would literally be her power bank. ¡°It won''t work because of two reasons. The first is that you are obviously not from this world,¡± said Mi?ka. Watching Mutasm frown, she raised her hand before he could say anything. Pointing at Hope and herself, she continued, ¡°Your body doesn''t work as ours does. You came here, to this world, in the state of Fitrah - absolute purity - which is inconceivable for any person who lives in this world. It also means you can''t gain powers or insight beyond insight.¡±


    ¡°Insight beyond insight? What is that supposed to mean?¡± asked Mutasm, this was not turning out as well as he had hoped. ¡°Insight beyond insight is how the people of this world grow. The universal word for what happens is known as Baserrah. Using the Vitsaus, they would grow based on the depth of understanding they have on a natural occurrence or the way something works. It is what they gain in return for the corruption that inhibits their hearts and souls. The Vitsaus would send an image to them, a form of insight. All they have to do is recall it and hone it to something useful,¡± explained Mi?ka, a dawning look of understanding hit Mutasm.


    ¡°You''re saying that there was no way for me to get stronger, then why would you put me throu-¡± said Mutasm, but once again was interrupted by a disappointed and upset look from Mi?ka. Stopping, he cleared his throat and lowered his head in embarrassment. His face blushed as he waved her to continue; promising silently to not interrupt her again. ¡°You are always quite ready to jump to random conclusions. Wait and listen, foolish boy. Where was I, oh yes, you cant gain Baserrah and as such you cannot grow stronger like normal people. You grow stronger on a much more efficient path. You seem to absorb krot¨¢lisma from the air every second. Through simply breathing, touching, eating, and even more frightening by simply existing. It enters through your very pores.¡±


    A devious smile adorned her face, but her eyes spoke a different tale entirely. They weren''t crescents like usual. Instead, they were as wide as normal; a sign that it was as fake as her facade of joy and happiness. Looking down at his chest, she stared at what was there. Looking down, Mutasm found nothing out of the ordinary. Just his dirty and ripped shirt. Tilting his head, he knitted his eyebrows. Looking back at her, then again to his shirt multiple times.


    But, she spoke finally. Her words seemed to echo in Mutasm¡¯s mind. Not do to any part of her actions, but because of the words, she spoke themselves. His eyes widened, and mouth felt completely dry. ¡°Though you can''t see it, the Vitsaus has begun to take root within you as well. You too have the rotten tendrils you despise so much.¡±

 Chapter 11 - The Pain Is To Much To Bear

    ¡°Though you can''t see it, the Vitsaus has begun to take root within you as well. You too have the rotten tendrils you despise so much,¡± repeated Mi?ka, as though he had not understood her the first time or comprehended them at all. But Mutasm heard every word as they seemed to echo in his mind. Looking down at his chest, his wide eyes began to blur, his hands shook, a tremor ran through his entire body. With a sudden aggressiveness and lack of thought that startled Mi?ka, he tore at his shirt, ripping it to shreds.


    In the process, he caused himself harm, his nails accidentally dug into his chest. Flinging the remains of what had been his only cover for his upper body, he rubbed at his chest; the scratches burning as his fingers ran over them. With wide eyes, he was staring as hard as he possibly could. His hands searching as they ran past corded muscle he had not noticed before. His constant struggle with the lack of food, stealth in the forest, and climbing to his home multiple times a day had toned him.


    Yet, at the moment, that was looked over, seemingly not noticed at all by Mutasm. Because the longer he stared, the more visible they became. Feeling his heart rise up to his throat and stomach clenching in fear, he whispered to himself, ¡°No, please, anything but this.¡± His voice was harsh, though still loud enough for the occupants of the cave to hear him. Slowly, his hopes were dashed away as thin, black tendrils - more like rotten flesh and dirty green mold - steadily swayed left to right and up to down in an almost random pattern; to an unseen current constantly changing. Muscles locking up, he began to shake, his mouth trying to sound out words yet unable too. Because the thing he feared most had found its way to him, in the most intimate way possible.


    ¡°Mutasm, calm down. Aren''t we already set on our path to get rid of them,¡± said Mi?ka, trying her best to keep him as functional as possible. She had not expected him to react as badly as he did. Looking up towards her, he nodded his shaking head as he interlocked his hands together, to keep them for shaking so much. Gulping audibly, he tried to speak, but every time he opened his mouth it began to clatter, teeth slamming into each other without remorse. Fearing he might bite his own tongue off or chip a part of his teeth, he kept his mouth closed.


    Taking deep breaths through his nose, he closed his eyes with a tremendous effort. Slowly his beating heart, running a million miles per second, began to return to a reasonable rate. His shivering body became steady again. Yet, his clenched stomach remained; his deeply ingrained fear ever so present. Opening his eyes, he let out a relieved sigh, it would not have been good for anyone if he continued to panic.


    Clearing his throat, ¡°T-Thank you f-for being patient with me. I didn''t e-expect myself to have those¡­ those things on me,¡± said Mutasm, goosebumps running down his spine as he spoke. ¡°Still, I want¡­ no, I need to have whatever power I could put my hands on. At the very least, I can defend myself and Hope for a little while.¡±


    Nodding, Mi?ka seemed to be resigned to his demand. ¡°Very well, but I must warn you. I do not know how this will affect you or how it would manifest. For all we know, you could suddenly transform into a monster,¡± staring directly into his eyes, a serious face marred her usually joyful persona. Crossing her arm, she waited for Mutasm to finish calming himself down.


    ¡°I understand the risks,¡± said Mutasm after a while, his eyes downcast, and body still shivering every now and then. But he had regained enough of his facilities and emotions to speak without stuttering and clench his fist without them shaking.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°And like I said already, this is too important to pass on,¡± determination lined his face, jaw set and eyes narrowed just a bit to make his resolve clear. He watched as Mi?ka sighed as she shook her head. She slowly got up, her body quivering in stress from her previous strenuous actions. Her scanning him, Mutasm guessed, had taken a lot out of her.


    ¡°Okay, but it will delay the purification process for both of you. A week at the minimum would be ideal to find out what my inherent powers would have transformed into and for you to recover from the pressure and pain it will cause,¡± nodding, she motioned him to stand as she moved to the front of the cave, only a few feet away from the illusion itself. Getting up with a grunt, Mutasm felt winded and unusually tired; his reaction to the rotten tendrils took too much energy from him.


    Facing her, he stood there watching her in silence for what seemed to be very long seconds. She had her eyes closed, and head tilted downwards--her chin almost touching her chest--in what appeared to be a state of reverence to Mutasm. Her hands hung loosely at her sides, but with a sudden jerk, she slid her foot forward. Crouching into a martial arts pose, her right arm raised in front of her face, palm facing Mutasm.


    Steadily, the air around her seemed to move in visible waves; circling her like a tornado and she its center. Faster and faster they moved, making the dust rise from the caves floor, slowly floating towards her. In time, a ball of dust and dirt had covered her like a ball. Rising a bit,  Mi?ka alowed the sphere to fully form around her. Mutasm feared his things would be drawn into the vortex as the dust had, their currents strong. Coughing and closing his eyes, arm covering them as he looked away, he felt like he couldn''t breathe. Suffocated by the storm of dust and dirt.


    Peeking under his arm, he searched to spot anything in the dense fog of dust that had materialized around Mi?ka. Yet, to his surprise, a bright green ball, as large as a basketball, hovered in the air. Vivid, Mutasm was able to make out every single detail on it. A rough texture, similar to bark, but was carved in perfect and artistic swirls that had him dropping his guard. The clarity of the moment passed though his mind, but he couldn¡¯t keep his thoughts together for a second. The only thing important in the world seemed to be the ball of light hovering above his head; closer to Mi?ka than him. It was then that the surreal moment struck him like lightning. There was no sound, nothing at all. No roar of the strong winds, or things crashing into each other. The vibrating ball of green light also made no noise, making him feel very disconcerted. Confusion flited past his face, looking around, it felt like he stood in a lucid dream.


    But, Mutasm didn''t get any time to observe the situation any longer than he already had. The ball of light shot forward towards him, not giving him any time to even react until it had already crashed into him. Blown back a few steps, Mutasm felt like he was fighting against a strong current of wind, no matter how hard he tried, he could not make any progress forward. Closing his eyes, he put his arms in front of him as he tried to keep standing.


    With a sudden echo of whistling wind, the pressure disappeared, and Mutasm found himself falling forward with a yelp. Landing hard on his knees and hands, he groaned in pain. Sitting up, he rubbed his knees with his palms as his eyes searched for Mi?ka. The fog of dust had gone, and the bright sun filtered in unobstructed by anything. It shone brightly on her green skin as she sat there. Her legs under her, and her body leaning forward onto her hands. Her head was downcast, droplets of sweat slowly fell as her breath came out with labored effort.


    With great difficulty, she looked up with a sad smile she stared at him. Slowly her mouth opened, but she hesitated like she was afraid of what she had to say. ¡°I-I am sorry¡­¡± Was all he heard before he felt his ears and every other part of his body explode in pain.


    Screaming a hoarse cry, he hugged himself, as though that would lessen his struggle. He felt daggers ripping him apart, claws tearing away at every inch of his skin. Underneath it all, he felt lava and liquid fire coursing through his blood vessels to his heart, then to the rest of his body. But worse of it all, he felt something crawling under his skin, wiggling through his body; growing constantly. Looking at his arm, he found a green outlining--like a blood vessel-- pushing its way up his forearm towards his hand.


    Falling forward he struggled and cried-tearing at his own body to rip out what ever it was that ripped his insides. Looking up, his eyes met Mi?ka¡¯s, pleading for the pain to stop, yet it continued without thought to his feelings. It took ages, but a familiar blackening of his peripheral vision began to grow. A comfort Mutasm never thought he would find solace in. The last thing he saw before darkness overtook him was Hope leaning on the tight fence of ropes he had made, tears streaming down her face as she tried to reach him from so far away. But, thankfully unconsciousness took him before his mind and soul broke. Wrapping him in its cold embrace.