《Tales of Starlight》


 Chapter 1: Frozen Wasteland

    A figure could be seen pushing against a harsh snowstorm, his silhouette fighting the snowfall for a presence.


    Within its constant blowing winds, powerful enough to blow a person over and deafen those within, its panicked voice could be vaguely heard:


    ¡®¡¯We must hurry! Is there anything ahead? There isn¡¯t much time left!¡±


    There was no response.


    The man who shouted, clearly shaken by the unanswered shout, stopped and looked back.


    ¡®¡¯Sebastian!¡± He shouted, this time directed behind him, observing the flowing white canvas.


    He stood there, waiting for a response, each second feeling like an eternity.


    He knew that without his companion, he would likely never make it to their destination alive¡­


    Just as his heart dropped to his stomach, a muffled shout resounded beyond the veil.


    ¡®¡¯-dan!¡±


    Sebastian was still with him.


    ¡®¡¯Here! Come to my voice!¡±


    There was no response.


    Knowing that his voice would also be suppressed by the violent winds of this unforgiving hellscape and likely carried elsewhere, drawing his only hope of finding salvation away, the man fumbled with his belt, cracking the ice that formed between his sword¡¯s cross guard and sheath, drawing the blade that rested on his hip.


    ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t make me regret this¡­¡± he said as his grip tightened.


    A moment later, the blade ignited, flames billowing up the reflective metal.


    As if drawn to the fire, a silhouette emerged from the veil, drawing his attention.


    ¡®¡¯Put that out you moron! You will kill us both!¡± Sebastian shouted.


    Immediately, the sword¡¯s flames dispersed, leaving behind wisps of heat on its blade, that were carried off by the wind.


    ¡®¡¯You weren¡¯t behind me! I thought you got lost! Are we close? There isn¡¯t much time.¡±


    Sebastian, now more visible as the distance closed between them, and stopped just next to him.


    ¡®¡¯Jordan. If you ignite that damned blade again I will leave you behind, find the ruins, and make the journey back myself! Now let¡¯s go before something decides to investigate the only visible light source in a hundred miles!¡±


    He sighed.


    ¡®¡¯Yes, there isn¡¯t much time,¡± he said, looking up to the grey sky, past the falling white, and at the moon, which lay just above the horizon. ¡®¡¯the moon is almost down. Don¡¯t worry, we are close and will make it.¡±


    Sebastian continued walking, his feet sinking into the soft recently felled snow, hitting the iced compact that lay underneath.


    Jordan followed, mirroring his footsteps to conserve energy for the remainder of the journey.


    Both men walked on, their silhouettes losing shape within the white of their surroundings.


    ?Asterion?


    Sitting at his usual seat, Asterion sat patiently waiting for the school day to end by looking outside and thinking of how he is going to find shelter later.


    He was usually pretty hungry at this point in the day, so this had become a routine habit of his to take his mind off of food, however today was special. It was the beginning of winter, and winter¡¯s snow was starting.


    ¡®¡¯-and what is it called Asterion?¡± A feminine voice resounded from the front of the room.


    Startled, Asterion stopped looking out of the window at the snowflakes that dissolved on the glass.


    ¡®¡¯I¡¯m sorry?¡±


    ¡®¡¯What is a beast called when it is a subject of another beast, typically a much stronger one?¡±


    He shifted in his seat, amused.


    ¡®¡¯A failure of the Defense Corps if I ever see one.¡± He said with a chuckle.


    The class erupted in laughter, dying when Mrs. Press gave a cold glare around the room, before returning her eyes to Asterion.


    ¡®¡¯Very funny Asterion, however the answer is a minion.¡±


    The class continued, and Mrs. Press avoided calling on the class clown for the rest of its duration. It wasn¡¯t long before the bell rang, signaling everyone that the class had ended and the school day was over.


    It took less than a minute for every student to have their items packed and head towards the door.


    Watching as the second to last student left the classroom, Asterion, as usual, was the last to leave, having been in no hurry to be elsewhere.


    There was nowhere else for him to go, after all.


    Passing Mrs. Press¡¯s desk on his way out, she glanced up from her papers and spoke, pausing his walk to freedom.


    ¡®¡¯Asterion, will you be okay? I know your¡­ situation, and winter is starting. It¡¯s going to become a frozen wasteland out there soon enough. With school ending, are you able to get by?¡±


    Asterions mood grew grim, his thoughts muddied a little darker, but maintained a pleasant outward demeanor.


    ¡®¡¯Yes, I will be fine. It¡¯s not my first winter¡­¡± he said shortly.


    He knew well what winter meant. Here in the Grand Citadel Hope, winter was at its coldest similar to a tad worse than the old world¡¯s winters¡­ it would be unpleasant, but with enough willpower and resiliance, he would be just fine.


    She gave him a hesitant nod, and he walked out of the school.


    Stepping outside, the wind slapped him in the face with a biting chill. Snowflakes fell, leaving a speckled litter on the floor. It was everywhere, but not too abundant.


    Watching the last of the students disperse into the streets from the steps of the school left Asterion in a somber mood.


    He never really liked talking to people, leaving him friendless. He knew people¡¯s names, and was aquainted with some, sure, but never grew too close to them.


    Typically when people found out that he was an orphan, they avoided him anyways.


    He knew exactly why.


    ¡®What great future would an orphan have in Eden?¡¯ He thought, musing himself.


    In truth, there wasn¡¯t much for him to accomplish in life.


    His classmates post general education would move on to higher education and into important, or at least into decent paid work¡­


    While he would undoubtably become a servant in some factory, producing some hazardous material just to earn enough to eat.


    He had parents once... The work his mother did to keep them barely hanging on vanished with her when she passed, leaving him desolate.


    It didn¡¯t help that he used all of her death benefits to give her a proper memorial¡­


    ¡®It¡¯s only going to get worse¡­¡¯ he thought darkly.


    There wasn¡¯t quite anywhere for him to go. He was by all meaning of the definition homeless and hopeless. Sure, the government was interested in helping him succeed as a ward of the state so he may become a productive member of society, but even now, nearly three hundred years after humanity was threatened with extinction, the resources available were scarce still, and they would only grow scarcer with winter¡¯s effect.


    Thinking about the next 8 months only fostered dread within Asterion.


    There would be ups and downs, as all days did for a ward of the state, or anyone really¡­ but during winter there¡¯s usually more downs¡­


    Food shortages usually meant that people like him, those without the backing of family, didn¡¯t eat. Those that prefer to sleep on the streets through the warmer seasons would move inside the free shelters, overcrowding them¡­ which meant what little resources the government could spare would be used up quicker.


    In short, it sucked. It always did.


    Walking down the steps and into the bustling street of the southern quadrant, Asterion began his daily routine.


    ¡®¡¯Food. Then shelter.¡± He muttered.


    Moving between streets and alleyways, past the towering heights constructed in recent years to combat the growth of humanity in its new home, he eventually found himself in the outskirts of the southern quadrent¡¯s marketplace district.


    A large stone bricked road blocked his path with the flowing of people in both directions as they went about their days, separating Asterion from the huge cuircuitwork of different shops that made up the marketplace.


    The marketplace itself, which resounded like a cocophany of noises all blurring into one indescribable shout sat like an empire, comprised of both makeshift and permanent structures, the permanent structures clearly having been run by more successful businesses.


    It was impressive. It always was.


    It was even more magnanimous if one gazed upwards, toward the towering walls that surrounded the inner districts.


    Asterion moved his eyes upward.


    The wall, which was made of the very same brick of the road, except much larger cuts, must have been the work of giants. Each stone block was carved to be identacle cuts of massive slabs, each easily weighing dozens of tons and stacked nearly one hundred stories high.


    It was meant to protect the most precious commodity.


    Humans.


    ¡®Well. Now at least¡­¡¯ Asterion smiled.


    Asterion was a historian at heart. He may not be the smartest person around, but he did enjoy reading up on history and myths.


    One such myth pertaining to the fortress¡¯s creation was that there used to be a civilization that built the fortress, living inside the walls in what is now the Inner Districts, and they built the walls to protect themselves from the land that was once a Death Zone.


    Of course, there wasn¡¯t much left behind by this civilization¡­ their disappearance was long before mankind arrived to this realm. The largest piece to evidence their existence being the great citadel, the last bastion for the remains of humanity, nicknamed ¡®Hope¡¯. All that lay beyond the supermassive walls of Hope in this land called ¡®Eden¡¯ are remnants.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.¡®The walls must have worked¡­ considering every structure outside of it are ruins. But then where did the people go? And where did they get this amount of stone?¡¯


    Pulling himself from that thought, looking back toward the street, and stepping onto the bricks, he crossed slowly, making sure to avoid people¡¯s path.


    Once on the other side, the market was even denser than it appeared.


    While the outer shops weren¡¯t very popular, considering they were nearly all makeshift stores, many of them sold the mass produced food imported from the farmlands to those too poor to afford the finer luxuries of the inner market.


    Asterion walked the stone floor of the marketplace, this one resembling a polished tile. It was impressive, even after countless years, the stonework was just as pristine as if it laid yesterday.


    ¡®Hm.¡¯ He thought, wandering further in.


    The stone was clearly not the kind that formed naturally in the environment, it was a tad too light to match the darker variant nearby.


    Coupled with the fact that the stonework that made up the Citadel of Hope was incredibly durable. So durable, in fact, that it had lasted ¡ªpresumably¡ªthousands of years without earning a scratch anywhere on its walls.


    ¡®Which brings another question¡­ how did they cut the indestructible stone into bricks¡­ and haul the mountain of stone required to build the inner fortress and its walls?¡¯


    He stopped walking, glancing to his left at a stall selling various vegetables.


    ¡®Where even is the quarry?¡¯


    A parade of noise rose up nearby.


    Asterion had read up on the Citadel of Hope, and its many theories on how it came to be. There was also the stuff taught to everybody in school¡­ but they never could explain where the stone had come from.


    ¡®¡¯Another question lost to time¡­ I supp¡ª.¡±


    Just as he finished muttering his sentence, he found himself unceremoniously knocked down to the ground.


    ¡®¡¯Argh!¡± He groaned, reeling and clutching his stomach.


    He landed quite unfortunately, and did not react quick enough to break the fall with his hands.


    Another parade of noise rose up around him before dying.


    The air that was once in his lungs was now well outside his body and they did not want to accept more¡­


    So¡­ he struggled internally for a moment, trying to catch his breath.


    It did not help that the only thing to fall on was the hardest floor litterally anywhere.


    After a few embarrassing moments of heaving, Asterion finally did, and looked up, meeting the eye of his offender.


    A man wearing metal plated armor, with a red cloth draped across his waist and running up his shoulder, wearing a plain long sword on his hip, smirked at Asterion.


    ¡®¡¯What are you, deaf? You move for the guard, or you get moved, punk.¡± The man said.


    He laughed, continued his stroll past, and through the crowd, leaving Asterion on the bare stone.


    Gritting his teeth, Asterion slowly rose back up, embarrassed and in silent agony, finally noticing the crowd that gathered.


    ¡®¡¯What?!¡± He shouted.


    A moment later, those that stood and watched continued on their days, and the usual clammer of the marketplace resumed, marking the encounter as just another event in the market for everybody else.


    But for him, it was a painful one.


    Walking with a slight favor to his side, Asterion moved a little slower now.


    It wasn¡¯t long before he stood in front of a run down wooden building with broken windows. A flurry of wind lifted the light snowfall that carpeted the edges of the footpath, kicking it up and shading the entrance.


    It was the place he worked at.


    Well¡­ he didn¡¯t exactly work there. They did not really pay him money.


    It was an establishment that offered food for work.


    There were many such places that existed within the marketplace, as it was a lucrative way to save money. A place that has an abundance of food would offer those too poor to afford food a way to fill their bellies.


    It did not solve the cause of the issue¡­ but it could put the symptoms at ease for short periods of respite.


    So a bar was where he would go to work for food.


    It was more difficult than he imagined it would be at first, Asterion had to learn quick to work hard for what he wanted, after all. Harder than most of his peers. But working with the very thing you crave within your grasp, and giving it away continuously for hours forms a resilient willpower most don¡¯t have.


    To work around food while starving, carrying some dish to a table, all the while smelling its aroma¡­ talking about food, even watching the patrons throw away their extras¡­


    It was a torturous experience.


    Not to mention the pain in his heart he would feel as he would watch those who gave into the craving end up roughed up by the owners of the establishment and banned by every connected establishment who offered food for work.


    And connected they were.


    But eventually, he grew used to the feeling. Even somewhat growing into it. He would try and embrace it, tell himself that it would make him stronger in the long run. Build character¡­


    But how much character could one build till they were so far gone from themselves, they become unrecognizable?


    So, on the days he was feeling particularly weak¡­ he would just go without food for that night.


    It was better to starve than be permanently banned from working for food¡­


    Pushing open the wooden door, the aroma of different meals already served assaulted Asterion¡¯s nose. The scent was a bitter reminder of his end goal.


    ¡®This is going to be a long day¡­¡¯


    Around the tavern, patrons crowded the space. It was already starting to turn dark, with hues of yellow and orange painting the southern district. Thus, the dinner rush was in full effect.


    ¡®¡¯Hey Astie! Back for more work? You¡¯re lucky, we have one more spot open for tonight.¡± The bartender, who owned the place, said from the other side of the room. She then made a complicated gesture motioning for him to head toward the kitchen as she tended to a few people asking for drinks.


    Heading to the kitchen to wash his hands and figure out his section, the fragrance of recently finished dishes were even more intense. He would have to walk in here tonight often¡­


    Asterion sighed.


    It was going to be a long day indeed.


    A couple hours later, long after the alluring symptoms of hunger got old, Asterion was handling a table of three older men among others. This particular table was quite loud and disrupting.


    Walking past, he could not help but overhear.


    ¡®¡¯¡ªdition leaves tomorrow. Apparently initial reports were wrong.¡±


    ¡®¡¯That¡¯s not possible. They must be delusional.¡± One man exasperated, a bit loud.


    The third chimed in, smiling: ¡®¡¯Yeah. Your right, delusional. Two actual Starlit, scouts no less. Absolutely delusonal!¡±


    The third man laughed even harder, sarcasm oozing out of him, gathering the annoyed glances of a few other patrons.


    Moving toward the bar to pick up another beer, the bartender gave the table a glance.


    ¡®¡¯Asterion. Settle them down. They¡¯re getting disruptive.¡±


    Asterion looked to the table, paused, then turned back. ¡®¡¯Yes ma¡¯am¡­¡±


    It was very hard to refuse the person feeding you when your hungry.


    But it was also hard to tell three men to not be obnoxious when they each have a sword resting against their seats.


    Steeling himself, Asterion walked up to the table, approaching their conversation once more. The first man was in the middle of his sentence.


    ¡®¡¯¡ªdience with the royal family. I have a friend that works inside the castle itself, and¡­¡± The man¡¯s voice faded once he noticed his arrival, eyeing Asterion suspiciously.


    ¡®¡¯What do you want?¡± He said gruffly.


    Asterion smiled politely. He was ready to tell the three to not be obnoxious as politely as possible, or less than that if needed¡­


    but¡­


    Asterion opened his mouth, moved his eyes to their swords¡­ and then hesitated, standing there like a moron.


    Looking at the three men¡¯s belongings closer, Asterion¡¯s blood iced.


    Their swords, which lay rested against the sides of their seats looked like any mundane sword sold in a marketplace from a distance. Anyone with a pulse and some money could obtain one. Their clothing did not have any special marking either.


    However¡­ upon closer inspection, Asterion saw the very distinct sigil of a Wind Rose Compass on the hilt of the blades.


    ¡®¡­ these men are Pathfinders.¡¯


    He stood there, mouth open¡­ looking at the first man, who wore a full beard, in the eyes.


    The man, who clearly did not appreciate being interrupted and blatantly stared at, turned predatory.


    ¡®¡¯What, boy?¡± He said, angrier.


    Asterion did not know a lot about life outside of Hope. Humanity had clung on to life within its protective walls¡­ and therefore he was most knowledgeable about the ongoing events about it since it was taught in every basic education.


    He even knew a bit about humanity before the great exodus from Earth since he was interested in the subject.


    It was dangerous to venture beyond the outer wall. No human would ever consider venturing past the safety it provided. And those that do, don¡¯t return.


    And so, very little information from the outside makes it back into Hope.


    But he did know about the Pathfinders.

 Chapter 2: The Pathfinders

    The Pathfinders was not an organization to be messed with.


    About 300 years ago, when humanity first founded its future in the Citadel of Hope, it had not always been so peaceful within the walls¡­ the government did its best to keep the peace and order on Earth, but when a government loses the power to protect its people, laws become blurry.


    So¡­ people had to fight for themselves.


    Humanity had to fight for its right to live. The strength of absolute power was the only thing that mattered when faced with the battle for survival.


    Fighting was a losing battle. Humanity was on its last leg. They had already lost much of their desire to fight by the time the remnants of humanity found the gateway to this realm.


    But fighting was what had to be done. The Castle, held within the inner walls of the great Citadel of Hope, and where the gateway led them to, was already occupied.


    A vicious beast had made a nest in the throne room, close to the gateway, and immediately killed the first explorers of the realm¡­


    So¡­ the next dozen people were sent through, those picked for their special qualities rather than exploratory enthusiasm, who entered the gateway and were forced to fight an impossible battle.


    This only grew their renown. They were already known for being Starlit, humans who manifested the ability to possess seemingly inhuman and unnatural powers.


    The casualties of that battle would be better described as a massacre¡­ yet humanity again prevailed.


    The survivors of that battle, the Starlit, alongside mundane people, slowly took possession of the fortified castle of Hope, and expanded their control through countless bloodshed over the next 20 years, section by section, to the full perimeter of the inner wall.


    However, Hope is made up of two rings of walls. The inner wall, which protects the castle and a small district¡­ and the outer wall¡­ which protected the seemingly massive city that surrounds the edges of the inner wall.


    Humanity¡¯s next step, naturally, was to attempt a conquest of the outer city. Time and time again we tried, but never made it past a quarter of the way to the outer wall before they would have to retreat.


    That was because of attrition.


    The city below was just too large, too much area for a weakened humanity to claim. They would seize control of a block, fighting the weaker beasts that nested in the city, and then become weaker as time went on from the grueling punishment of conquest.


    The beasts were too strong for a mundane human to kill alone, so a team was required to kill a single one, and while generally mindless, they were strong enough to view even groups of people as a food source.


    The only humans with the bravery and strength to face beasts like these alone and live were those that were Starlit.


    ¡­ Along with the Pathfinders.


    The Pathfinders were initially a ragtag group of two formed during the conquest of the inner wall. They consisted of 2 of the initial starlit survivors of the battle for the castle for a while, who promised to clear a path for humanity using their power.


    Being not only notable survivors of that massacre, but also its victors, mundane humans with a desire to fight joined them, bringing the group to a point where they had great power and influence in the foundling politics within Hope.


    They were incredibly helpful at first, they wanted the same thing everybody wanted, for humanity to thrive once again.


    However, their ideas for how that would come to be was the determining factor in their fate. Their ideas were tainted and radical, even for a time when humanity was at its darkest. People did not flinch at death nearly as often, but their suggestions gave even the hardened survivors a fright.


    He thought they even attempted a coup once¡­


    So¡­ the small group was called to disband, its members to merge with the government, becoming soldiers, and those that refused were forced to leave the safety of the castle, and exiled into the untamed city of Hope beyond the inner wall. At a time before it was conquered, it was the same as a death sentence.


    After another year, most who were exiled died. However, some didn¡¯t¡­ and those who didn¡¯t were revered as proof of the possibility of humanities comeback.


    They were offered sanctuary within the walls as the punishments for their radical ideas were thought of as served by the population¡­ and what they endured now as meaningless pain.


    So it was a shock when they refused¡­ sticking to the name Pathfinder. And when humanity finally, over the course of another hundred years conquered the entire Citadel of Hope, from the castle to its outer perimeter wall, they eventually moved outside of Hope, and into the untamed wilderness of Eden. They would come into the city rarely, relaying information of the outside world and recruiting new members, but most often they would keep to themselves¡­


    Asterion blatantly stared at the wind rose sigil on one of the swords, stumped on what to say that would not end with them using the same sword on him.


    ¡®Radical zealots, really? This day just gets worse and worse.¡¯


    One of the men, noticing where he was staring, chuckled.


    ¡°Looks like this fool got lost while looking at a compass.¡± He gestured at the hilt, ¡°What, never seen one before?¡±


    Regaining control, Asterion glanced at each of the three men, and in the nicest tone he could muster while concealing his own fear, spoke.


    ¡°Hello, I understand you are having a good time, but please do not become disruptive to the other patrons by being too loud.¡±


    The silence that followed from the table was deafening. The noise of the surrounding patrons cascaded through, amplifying the silence.


    The three men simply stared at Asterion.


    Asterion, meanwhile, immediately averted his gaze to the table, but could still see the three out of the corner of his eye.


    His stomach growled¡­


    ¡®The things I do for food¡­¡¯


    After what felt like an eternity, first man¡¯s eyes darkened. He could have sworn he saw his left hand twitch, as if his mind was preparing his hands to give a beating.


    ¡®Preferrably a beating and not to cut me instead.¡¯ He thought.


    Then, a gout of laughter came from the other two, breaking the silence and looking at the first man.


    Asterion¡¯s nerves settled. If the men thought it was humorous, maybe they wouldn¡¯t break the thing they thought was funny¡­?


    ¡®Oh thank god¡­¡¯


    ¡°Yeah! Settle down Brandon!¡± The second man said.


    ¡®Oh no.¡¯ Asterion thought, his blood chilled much more.


    The third man chimed in:


    ¡°Brandon, if you don¡¯t shut up, this frail idiot here is going to mess you up, and I won¡¯t stop him!¡±


    The first man, named Brandon¡­ did not move his eyes from Asterion¡¯s the entire time. Instead, they turned from a simple annoyed glance, into a death glare.


    ¡®This is not good¡­¡¯


    Just when the tension reached its peak, another female worker came and saved the day, stepping in from behind.


    ¡°Boys, I appreciate your choosing this bar to relax, but your getting a little rowdy if you could please keep it a little lower. Thanks. Asterion, I need you with me.¡± She said, pulling Asterion¡¯s arm away from the table.


    Not wanting to be there any longer than he had to, Asterion let her drag him back toward the kitchen.


    looking back once he was nearly out of view. The two men cracking jokes smirked at the first, who had a look of irritation permeated on his face.


    Once behind adequate cover and a short distance away, she continued, smiling.


    ¡°I noticed you were a tad fearful just to tell a table to quiet down, what¡¯s up?¡±


    A bit flustered, Asterion rubbed his face with his hand. ¡°Was it noticeable¡­?¡±


    She grinned. ¡°Not at all.¡±


    Not believing a single word in her response, Asterion motioned back to the table, now out of view.


    ¡°I think they are Pathfinders¡­ and I don¡¯t have a death wish.¡±


    She moved to take another look at the three men, and turned back to Asterion.


    ¡°Pathfinders, huh? I doubt it. They¡¯re usually more loud about their affiliation. I¡¯ve seen pathfinders before in the street recruiting, and those do not look like them. Besides, they¡¯re leaving.¡±


    Asterion¡¯s eyes widened.


    ¡°What? But they haven¡¯t paid yet!¡±


    He turned back around to the large room in a panic, only to see the last of the men walk out the door of the tavern.


    Moving toward the door to confront them, he pushed past several people, but stopped short. His rational confronting his emotions.


    ¡®What if they are pathfinder¡¯s?¡¯


    From the short display of hostility for asking them to quiet down, he had a slight inkling they would be less kind for demanding payment for food.


    But¡­ if he didn¡¯t¡­ his wages¡ªthe food he was working to earn¡ªwould be taken as compensation instead.


    He had a tough decision to make.


    To go outside, confront three men with weapons, who were possibly radical zealots¡­ one of which, already giving him the impression they prefer him dead, and demand payment from them¡­ by himself.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.Or to work for free the rest of the night and starve.


    The decision¡­ was actually not that difficult to make.


    Looking dejected, Asterion turned back toward the bar to let the boss know of the walk out.


    She was not pleased. Being an establishment owner in the market district was a tough calling that demanded a backbone. Being a tavern owner was even more difficult.


    So¡­ she was less than kind to everyone involved.


    Asterion was forced to work the rest of the night, and told he would have to come in the next day as well.


    For free.


    Asterion paled at the consequences, standing there with a glazed look within his eyes.They were even more severe than he imagined they would be.


    He knew he would go hungry. That, he was used to. Hunger was just something normal to people like him. However, not getting food for two days was a torturous endevour. One he had not experienced in a long time. The last time he did, he promised himself he wouldn¡¯t ever allow it to happen again.


    He would have merely gone someplace else instead, but he knew how the system worked. The places around the market district worked together to combat theft and mistreatment. He had seen it work on others before him.


    If he tried, they would refuse him work until his debt to the establishment was paid, so he would not be able to earn food elsewhere.


    Now dejected, Asterion turned back to his work in an attempt to get the punishment over with. It was the least he could do to forget about the growing hunger he experienced.


    The knowledge that he was paying the price for food he never ate while simultaneously being hungry was sanity chipping.


    As the work day ended, Asterion was feeling incredibly bad about himself. The thought of stopping to talk to the other workers who got to eat a meal in the now empty tavern was gut wrenching.


    So, he made himself scarce before he could see it.


    Opening the wooden door to the restaurant, the windchill bit harder now that the sun had set and light was gone. People lit the fueled candles in front of their stores, lighting up the market district with the flickering residue of small flames. The peppering snowflakes had turned a bit harsher in the six or so hours he worked, covering the stone below in a carpet of snow before stopping.


    Of course, the tiles that made up the streets of the large marketplace were damp from the foot traffic eroding the snow layer, making it a dirtier journey.


    Standing outside the tavern, Asterion, feeling like he had just lost a terrible battle with his pride, began walking the streets toward his next destination.


    ¡®Food¡­ then shelter.¡¯


    Losing out on food was unfortunate, pained even more by the fact that he had already assumed he would be sleeping that night on a full stomach.


    He was hungry, yes, but he was more than capable of enduring the feeling. He was not an animal.


    The pain of not eating, however, would come tomorrow if he did not find another way to eat. His body would find substitute methods of energy if he did not in the form of the fat reserves he had.


    Except¡­ he didn¡¯t have any.


    Asterion was frighteningly frail. He had been an orphan for years at this point, struggling to find a reliable source of food the entire time. He didn¡¯t have an ounce of fat on him.


    So¡­ his body would find energy from consuming his muscle instead.


    ¡®It¡¯s just a temporary feeling¡­¡¯


    Walking the snow-lined stone tiles between the shops, he moved slow, trying not to make his body work too hard to get to his destination. The more he moved, the worse he felt the emptiness in his stomach.


    Passing the shops that lined the street, watching the restaurants that were still open feeding guests, a rising feeling of anger lingered. He was upset with himself. Not only had he failed to secure food for the night, but he was being punished for something he didn¡¯t even do.


    The shops continued to glow from their windows, the heat from the inside fires warming fallen snow on the surrounding them into a small stream that ran down the street as Asterion watched.


    He moved his gaze up toward the inner wall. He wondered what the sprawling city of Hope looked like from the castle. He thought the castle looked massive from where he stood, the lights lining the parapets and shining through the windows, highlighting the figure of an impregnable fortress overshadowing both the inner wall and the city. But compared to the city, it was actually relatively small, just on higher ground.


    He would never get such a fate, though. He knew it, too.


    He sighed.


    The streets were emptier now that light had faded. The temperature dropped too. It was beginning to get cold.


    ¡°I need to get to the shelter soon¡­¡± he muttered, under his breath.


    Moving toward the outskirts of the marketplace, he found himself back at the wider perpendicular street that marked its boundary. Walking across was no challenge now that the sun had set and most people had gone home.


    Finding the government run shelter, he made his way to the female attendant with the log sheet at the front desk to assign himself a bed.


    He began, ¡°Hello. I would li¡ª¡°


    ¡°Sorry, we¡¯re all out of beds. You should have come earlier, it¡¯s the start of winter you know?¡± The attendant said, with a hint of distain.


    Asterion¡¯s heart dropped.


    ¡®She can¡¯t be serious¡­?¡¯


    Winter put a strain on the available beds, but he had never experienced its effect this early into the season.


    ¡°A-are you sure?¡± He asked.


    Without moving her eyes from him, she responded, flat toned.


    ¡°Very.¡±


    ¡°But you didn¡¯t even look¡­?¡± He retorted.


    With a heavy sigh, she dramatically rolled her eyes then looked down, widening her eyes when they met the paper below her, before looking back up to meet Asterion¡¯s.


    ¡°Still nothing.¡± She said.


    He began to feel that rising anger from before surge within him. Asterion was not having a good day. It started when he was brutally shoved to the floor, continued with him being punished and made to pay for three meals he didn¡¯t eat, and now it¡¯s ending without the warmth of proper shelter.


    He would have to find a place warm enough to survive the night. Maybe an abandoned building or a alleyway. It would be uncomfortable, and he probably wouldn¡¯t sleep at all. But he would live.


    The anger must have shown on his face, because the next words out of the attendants mouth were not directed towards him, but behind him¡­ to a man he had not noticed before.


    ¡°He¡¯s getting aggressive.¡± She said shortly.


    ¡°What? No I¡¯m not!¡± He responded defensively.


    The man, meanwhile, moved and grabbed Asterion, before yanking him out the door and throwing him to the stone street floor.


    Being malnurished had its downsides¡­


    ¡°Argh!¡± He bellowed in pain, groaning for a few seconds.


    The fall was not easier than the first one he endured that day.


    Laying down on his back, now wet and cold from the residue of snow, he looked up at the sky in defeat.


    Asterion felt hollow. He felt down, he felt dread.


    He felt rage.


    Watching the black sky was soothing, but it did nothing to quell the blazing fire he had inside him. He wanted to get revenge on everyone. The guard who punched him down¡­ the three men who skipped their tab¡­ the person who just assaulted him.


    He was upset with them all.


    But not just them. He was also angry with himself. For his own failures... he failed to feed himself. He failed to get himself somewhere warm¡­ he failed to find work that pays him in actual money, instead of working for food. He failed to succeed as an orphan¡­


    He failed to grow strong.


    He was the appitome of failure. He didn¡¯t need to be told that. He knew it, deep down. It was always there. It just rarely manifested this harshly and this close together.


    Realizing this, the rage that flowed within him dimmed into a pitiful self loathing. He moved his arm to pillow his head in the street, twitching slightly.


    ¡®Ah¡­ still hurts.¡¯


    He stayed there for a bit, not only because it hurt to move, but also because he didn¡¯t want to¡­ a few people passed him, looking at the young frail boy laying in the wet street with a hint of concern, but nobody bothered him.


    Where else was there for him to go? There were no shelters elsewhere, the government didn¡¯t have the resources to manage two shelters properly when it couldn¡¯t even supply one.


    Deep loathing was the only thing on his mind. He was used to having less, and he was accepting of that, he would make due with it. That was life, after all¡­ to make due with what you have.


    ¡®But why does it have to feel so aweful?¡¯


    After looking at the sky for a while, Asterion finally felt it necessary to move. The pain had subsided for the most part, and the chill was biting, with now his wet back eating at him, as well.


    ¡°This sucks.¡± He muttered.


    Inching up, he used his arms to prop himself up to his feet, before continuing down the street.

 Chapter 3: Mind Reader

    Rising higher by the minute, the sun once more met the horizon and peeked its crest. The chilling cold was fought off by its warm rays, leaving behind a radiant glisten as the outer layer of the snow that had fallen during the night began to melt.


    From within a large dumpster, Asterion shiveringly raised one side of its lids and peeked outside at the rising daylight, questioning whether or not it was worth it to get out. He would not leave until the sun was out long enough to fend off hypothermia¡­


    The night before, he had troubles finding a warm place to sleep. The alleyways he knew were all taken¡ªor rather defended, by more violent men than he. Other than those places, he didn¡¯t really know many other places he could go¡­


    So, he chose the next best thing. A trash dumpster. He didn¡¯t desire to sleep in the trash, nor did he intend to. But walking by it stole a questioning glance in its direction. It would not keep him warm, but did keep the wind off of him, allowing him to survive the chilling night. It wasnt the best, but after he moved the hardest of the garbage out of the way, it actually almost resembled a plushy mattress.


    Needless to say, however, he didn¡¯t sleep the greatest.


    With bags under his eyes, Asterion hopped out of the dumpster and looked around.


    ¡°At least nobody saw that¡­ desperate measure.¡± He muttered.


    He was used to having to do deplorable and embarrassing things to survive, but sleeping in a dumpster felt a bit too far.


    With wounded pride, and an empty stomach Asterion made his way to school for the day.


    Midway to the school, his stomach began to pain, not too intense, but a subtle, gnawing misfortune.


    ¡®Already?¡¯


    He imagined he would have at least till midday before the pain from not eating would begin. Instead, it seemed to be happening immediately.


    Finally making his way to the door of the school, he found his way back into the classroom and with Mrs. Press.


    Sitting in his usual seat, he began his routine stare at the window, letting the lecture pass unabated.


    By the end of it, he was in no joking mood. By now, the small hole in his stomach became a vast cavern, every subtle movement amplifying the pain it created.


    ¡®Endure¡­¡¯ he thought, painfully.


    It was hard to believe that hunger can cause that much pain. Hunger was the lack of food, which¡ªaccording to Asterion¡ªmeant that there was nothing within him to cause pain. Nothing was even happening.


    Yet nothing hurt so much.


    When the bell rang, and all the students left, Asterion stayed seated, preparing himself to make the journey to the tavern for his repayment shifts


    ¡°Gah. It hurts.¡± He whispered, covering his face with his hands.


    Mrs. Press was sitting in her seat at the front of the room, eyeing him expectantly. Noticing her gaze, Asterion made a final huff before moving towards the door.


    Walking out, he once again made his way to the tavern, passing the same shops and stalls he did the day before on the way.


    Hearing a chorus of parade ahead, Asterion made sure to step to the side, just in time for a guard¡ªthe same one who knocked him down yesterday, to walk by, smirking as the crowd parted before him.


    ¡°Is this a routine for him?¡± He asked aloud, more to himself than anyone.


    He had walked this market many times, and as a result crossed many of the city soldiers who guarded the streets. None had ever been that bold, much less rude.


    It was genuinely perplexing.


    ¡®Gosh. Who does he think he is?¡¯


    Next to him, a voice resounded with distain.


    ¡°He actually believes that only he can protect people if anything were to happen, and that they themselves are helpless. So¡­ I guess a savior?¡±


    Looking to his left, Asterion met the gaze of a man with blue eyes and blonde hair. The man looked like every noble he had ever seen. Tall, bright eyes, and blemish-less. The man, who wore a brown overcoat made from a leather he couldn¡¯t quite place the origins of, looked at him expectantly.


    ¡®Is he talking to me¡­?¡¯ Asterion thought, confused.


    ¡°Well¡­ I answered your question, so I believe so.¡± The man said.


    ¡°What? Sorry, I didn¡¯t say anything.¡± He responded.


    The man frowned. ¡°You didn¡¯t? Ah¡­ that¡¯s a shame. I was doing so well.¡±


    Much more confused, Asterion looked blankly at the man, questioning his sanity.


    ¡®Did this guy just read my mind?¡¯


    The man, who had a look of disappointment written across his face, slowly rose into a slim smile.


    ¡°No¡­¡±


    Asterion¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°What? You definitely are!¡±


    He groaned.


    ¡°Gah! Fine, you caught me. Sorry.¡± He raised his hands in an apologetic gesture.


    Still stumped as to how a person could read the thoughts of other people, Asterion raised a brow.


    ¡°How are you doing that?¡±


    ¡°Doing what?¡± The man replied, perplexed.


    A stupified expression formed on Asterion¡¯s face.


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®doing what?¡¯ How can you read minds!¡±


    The man, obviously getting the question now, replied.


    ¡°Um.. I don¡¯t know, I just do? That¡¯s kind of a hard question. It¡¯s like asking a person how they walk. I move my legs in a way that allows me to walk¡­ except with your mind.¡±


    He thought the man was messing with him. The answer was a bit vague, and it didn¡¯t make sense in the slightest.


    Just as he opened his mouth again, his stomach sent a particularly pained wave through his body, making him reflexively hunch forward a little.


    ¡®Ah¡­ that hurt.¡¯


    The blonde haired man looked down at the now hunched boy with a questioning stare.


    ¡°You okay there?¡±


    Looking down at the street, Asterion fought internally. ¡®Not particularly, my stomach wants to eat me because I can¡¯t feed it! What, you can¡¯t read that?¡¯ He thought, sarcastically.


    Looking back up to the man, which from this angle looked even taller than before, said ¡°Yeah¡­ I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    The man chuckled.


    ¡°I heard that you know.¡±


    Asterion widened his eyes, seeing his error.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Your in pain, I understand, people lash out. Why don¡¯t you just eat something? I see your a bit less well off from your clothes, but there¡¯s plenty of opportunity to work for food around here.¡±


    Asterion sighed, looking down at his clothing. He knew he didn¡¯t look the best, having spent the night in a dumpster with little sleep, along with the wet dirty stone of the street from the unwanted advances by other people¡­


    But why did he have to point it out?


    ¡®Just call me emotional and lazy while your at it.¡¯


    Aloud, he said:


    ¡°I was. Three bastards from the pathfinders skipped out on their tabs yesterday and I have to work off their meals before I can eat again. I haven¡¯t eaten in two days.¡±


    The man¡¯s suppressed smile widened a little.


    ¡°Pathfinders? How did you know they were pathfinders?¡±


    ¡°Their swords had the pathfinder sigil on it. I¡¯ve read books about them.¡±


    ¡®Wastes of space¡­¡¯ he internally monologued.


    The man, who only grew more happy with his resentment, thought for a moment, before speaking.


    ¡°So¡­ you haven¡¯t eaten in a couple days and are looking for work? You wouldn¡¯t happen to be interested in something long term? I actually came to the market to look for people interested in joining me for my work. I supply everything you need while your with me.¡±


    Asterion¡¯s eyes widened for a split second before he regained his composure. The man¡¯s smile was now written across his face, revealing nothing but joy.


    ¡°I was actually only looking for a few more, so you¡¯d be perfect.¡±


    He grew suspicious.


    Fate was often a cruel thing to people like him. While sounding like a fantastic opportunity, Asterion couldn¡¯t help but think that the offer was too good to be true. Very rarely do people get both food and money for work, much less shelter as a bonus.


    Yet¡­ this stranger just offered all three and he¡¯s looking for multiple people?


    ¡®This has to be a scam.¡¯


    ¡°Uh¡­ where in the city is the work located?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit of a distance, you¡¯d have to be willing to travel, that¡¯s why we cover most of it. It¡¯s cheaper.¡± He gave a nonchalant shrug. ¡°Most are rather intent on not making life changing decisions, so we don¡¯t get a lot of people joining in droves.¡±


    ¡°What would the job entail?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ not much. You are small and fragile, so we wouldn¡¯t have much use for you in any heavy capacity.¡± Eyeing Asterion up and down, ¡°You¡¯d make an excellent attendant, though.¡±


    ¡®An attendant? Not bad¡­¡¯ Asterion thought.


    An attendant wasn¡¯t the worst thing he could be. In fact it was probably one of the better prospects he could end up as. Considering his current prospects were working in various establishments as a work-for-food hire until he could find a more permanent job. The job he would find, however would undoubtedly end up with him working at a factory and living in objective poverty for the rest of his life.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.That life would be undoubtedly short, as well¡­ factory workers had short lifespans, after all.


    An attendant didn¡¯t work in a factory, however, slowly working themselves to death to make ends meet. An attendant didn¡¯t need to work on a line and do the same thing every day.


    Well, an attendant can slowly work themselves to death, too¡­


    But it would be much less harsh!


    ¡°Yes, we have many openings for them. It¡¯s a rather new opening we are searching to fill. In fact, you¡¯d be my attendant.¡± The stranger said flatly.


    ¡°What?¡± Asterion said, questioningly, before realizing he was still reading his mind. ¡°You¡¯re mind reading is throwing me off.¡±


    The stranger laughed.


    ¡°I¡¯m Bellarus, by the way. Most just call me Rus. I can tell your already interested. How about ditching that work you have and coming for the orientation? You won¡¯t need to work for them if you have us.¡±


    His stomach growled, with another wave of pain, loud enough for Rus to hear.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get you a meal on the way.¡± He chuckled, ¡°finding you was luck. Just like I am yours. I only needed a few people to meet my quota, and you make the last person.¡±


    Immediately, Asterion¡¯s suspicion went away. The man, Rus, was obviously a blessing in disguise.


    ¡°Oh¡­ where are the others?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve taken them to orientation, believe it or not, finding people to work for you is a rather boring endevour. Helps break up the monotony.¡±


    With that, they walked together down the street, getting a meal, and then the rather long adventure of following Bellarus to his position¡¯s orientation.


    As they walked, Asterion noticed a few¡­ inconsistencies in the hours that passed. Not enough to back out, but enough to rouse suspicion.


    The first thing was that no matter what he asked Bellarus about what his duties would be as an assistant, the guy would be incredibly vague.


    It was strange, especially since he said he was supposed to be his assistant.


    So, chalking it up to it being a diverse job, with rather wide job duties, he let it go.


    The second thing, was that whenever he asked where the work would be located and where he would live, the blonde haired man would always respond with something along the lines of:


    ¡°You¡¯d live near me, of course!¡±


    Or more specifically when prodded,


    ¡°It¡¯s located¡­ uh¡­ I actually don¡¯t know the name of the place! Sorry! We will be fine, we won¡¯t be there long.¡±


    Asterion was also noticing that Bellarus was a strange character. Stranger than most he had met, at least. The man was adamant in staying vigilant, and was always looking at other people, as if he was watching them. Aside from that, he was simply rather quiet.


    At one point, Asterion was mulling over this information during the meal, he had thought about a rather crude joke about another table when Bellarus was looking the other way, and he could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile form.


    However¡­ when he asked, Bellarus always denied reading his mind. Claiming he ¡®wouldn¡¯t dare invade his privacy, now that they¡¯re friends.¡¯


    The last thing, and the most egregious inconsistency, however, was actually when they were approaching the orientation.


    Now far from the market district after walking a couple more hours, they wandered street after street till the sight of people slimmed down to an occasional person passing by every few blocks. They were close to the outer wall. Bellarus was looking around, as if lost, but continued walking.


    It was¡­ getting sketchy.


    ¡®Why are we so far out?¡¯


    Walking a couple steps behind Bellarus, asterion studied the surroundings, and noted that most were rather run down, and uninhabited.


    ¡°Is this the place?¡± He asked hesitantly.


    Ahead, Bellarus absentmindedly responded. ¡°Yeah¡­ it¡¯s close. Should be right¡­ here¡±


    He stopped abruptly in front of a wooden door.


    Still standing behind him, Asterion studied the building. Some of its finer details were made of wood, like its door, but the building itself was made out of the same material every permanent building in the city was made out of. The resilient stone.


    Turning around, Bellarus looked at Asterion up and down for a moment. The kind of watchful gaze that would give anyone a pause.


    ¡®Yeah this guys going to murder me.¡¯


    He smirked, and then laughed.


    ¡°No, I am not going to murder you. But I do need to let you know one thing about the job. There¡¯s one condition. There¡¯s no ending it until your contracts completed. Once you enter, you¡¯ll be orientated and hired, regardless of whether or not your actually useful in your role.¡±


    Surprise wasn¡¯t on his mind at the confession that Bellarus read his mind, even though he said he wouldn¡¯t. In fact, Asterion was quite sure he hadn¡¯t stopped since they met in the market for one simple reason. It¡¯s what he would do if he had the power. He wasn¡¯t foolish enough to handicap himself of a potential tool in most scenarios.


    He also wasn¡¯t foolish to miss the fact that this entire situation was eerily similar to¡ªat least how he imagined it usually went in his head¡ªand edging closer toward recruitment for a crime syndicate.


    Asterion began pondering to himself if he had accidentally befriended a crime boss, who seemed very interested in him joining them?


    There were glaring flaws in his reasoning.


    Looking at the blonde haired man up and down again, he was stumped. he couldn¡¯t foresee this man being a dangerous individual. He was quite friendly and amiacable. He had money. And he didn¡¯t appear to carry a weapon, at least not one visibly.


    He was sure he had one on him, tucked away out of sight in his boot or belt, maybe.


    Though¡­ who would need a weapon when you can hear people¡¯s thoughts? His opponents minds would become his weapon. Their thoughts his foresight.


    Asterion blinked.


    ¡®Pfft. This dude is too pretty to be part of a crime syndicate. He could have just married rich.¡¯


    ¡°Uh¡­ thanks, I guess¡­ but what about the job, are you in or out?¡± Bellarus said, with a confused look on his face.


    Asterion¡¯s eyes widened, and he coughed to hide his embarrassment.


    Food was a distasteful thing to think about, which is ironic considering it¡¯s tasteful qualities¡­


    Asterion, understanding that refusing this offer may be a smart thing to do considering the sketchiness of the situation, looked at Bellarus and did a serious, resolute nod.


    There were many reasons he would have refused the job offer. Each pertaining to the scrupulous nature of its description clarity, or lack there of.


    But there were an equal number of reasons he would accept the position. More than that, there was a multitude of reasons past that number. Considering the alternative, there just wasn¡¯t a reason to refuse.


    What else would there be for him? Work till his life span is cut short, trading his health for the bare minimum a person needed to live in the city until he met his end?


    But there was one more reason even above that, a rather short term one that pressed on him heavily nowadays. It wasn¡¯t as important in the grand scheme of things, he knew he would endure, and while not thriving, would be able to make it through its cold grasp.


    Winter.


    He had endured it a few times since becoming an orphan, surviving the freezing temperature. Each time was a test of his will to live. The cold temperatures pushed many of his luxuries, such as the expectation of basic government assistance to the side as people in the same situation as him went into survival mode, crowding shelters and consuming more food and warmth. But this time was different. This time was special.


    He had an opportunity in front of him to not suffer its wrath¡­ He would be a fool not to take it as a blessing.


    For many, this job would be temporary slave servitude. For Asterion, it was a better path.


    Bellarus smiled, and without looking, made a pattern of knocks on the door. A man answered, opening the door a moment later.


    His greeting was short, his voice was rough, nodding to Bellarus. He moved aside to let them in, standing behind the door.


    ¡°Rus.¡±


    Hidden by the shadows that laid inside, it took a moment for Asterion¡¯s eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, it was relatively empty aside from a few chairs that littered the center of the room, and closed doors along the far wall that led deeper into the building.


    To his left, he saw Bellarus standing casually, suppressing a smile, and looking at him almost expectantly. Confused, Asterion looked around, thinking of what he might of been expected to do for an orientation, before turning his head right towards the man who now closed the door, locking it.


    His eyes widened.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to want to bind this one.¡± He heard from behind.

 Chapter 4: Future Prospects

    There are many things Asterion thought would may occur as a result of him accepting the role of an assistant.


    He would fetch various documents and people. Clean dirty laundry and fold it. Organize events or meetings as an extension of his boss. Perhaps, he would even get the opportunity to become his own boss to a team of underlings, should the work prove too tenuous for him to do alone.


    Well¡­ more likely he would be an underling, instead.


    But that was okay. He would still be in a position he was better in than before. Working as an assistant was no hard task, albeit a varied profession, it was not a deadly one.


    Unless¡­


    Asterion stood, stunned at the sight before him. He would have run if he comprehended the sentence that Bellarus had said. But he couldn¡¯t. He was just too surprised. The man who opened the door stood a head taller than him, was gruff, bearded, and had a permanent scowl on his face.


    He also carried a sword with a wind rose compass on hits hilt.


    It was Brandon. The man, after locking the door immediately lunged at Asterion, swinging a leather gloved fist directly at his face.


    He backstepped to avoid the blow, attempting to duck at the same time, but he backed right into Bellarus, who acted as a backstop for his own lunge.


    ¡®What th¡ª¡®


    Watching the fist come toward his face was surprisingly inevitable¡­ Asterion found himself almost at peace. Almost.


    The world went black.


    ¡­


    Throughout his unconsciousness, Asterion dreamed beautiful scenes of things he forgot immediately after¡­ he would have liked to stay, if he had a choice. Time was a non existent concept in his dream, meaning he wouldn¡¯t have to experience its violating flow if he didn¡¯t want to¡­ so he didn¡¯t.


    He heard conversations between people he couldn¡¯t recall, their unrecognized voices protruding into his dreams as an echo of his consciousness. Invasive, demanding. He didn¡¯t know when they happened, nor their order¡­ for order was dependent on the concept of when, and when was not a real thing anymore¡­


    It was all really annoying, though.


    ¡®Gosh! These people can¡¯t let a person be?¡¯


    Walking a grassy hill, a radiant sun rose above the hill, planting mirrored rays of its warmth on the massive field, wind billowing its grass in a constant gust. Peaking above its crest, Asterion¡¯s vision was suddenly filled with a vast body of water, unlike he had ever seen before.


    It was a shimmering blue¡­ he had never seen something so¡­ beautiful. From the each side of his vision, from the edge if the hill to the horizon, was nothing but water.


    It was unbelievable. Not only because of its stunning beauty¡­ but because it really was unbelievable. Water was a scarcity in Hope, and this much water would be enough to make it not one¡­ forever.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to knock him out! I mean really? Look at him. Your punch could have killed him!¡±


    Another voice cut through a moment later, this one more scratchy and a bit more echoing, leaving a displeasing stain on his pleasant sight.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take him to the others.¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°Hey. Wake.¡± A voice cut through a fading dream, only to be replaced by another, more alluring one.


    ¡°Maybe he is dead?¡± Another voice said, seemingly from the sky.


    That sent the dreamy Asterion into a curious streak.


    ¡®Is this what death is like¡­?¡¯ He thought, staring at the vague clouds beneath his feet, the sky above was replaced by a city, seemingly mirrored upside-down, ¡®it¡¯s¡­ nice¡­ I think?¡¯


    ¡°No, i can see him breathing. Watch this.¡± The first voice said.


    ¡®You know¡­ this isn¡¯t too bad. If this is death, it¡¯s rather peaceful. I¡¯m alright wi¡ª¡®


    A pain radiated from his stomach, spreading through his gut and into his lungs, taking the air out of them.


    Asterion¡¯s eyes shot open, coughing out the last of his breath, and proceeding to gasp for air.


    ¡°Argh¡­¡± He yelled, leaning to his side.


    He tried to clutch his stomach, but something was binding his hands together behind his back. The best he could do was bring his feet to his chest in a fetal position to defend himself from another blow in his hazy state.


    The switch from the total darkness of unconsciousness to the light of day¡ªor at least the overhead light¡ªled Asterion¡¯s vision to be blinded momentarily, as well.


    If that wasn¡¯t bad enough, a pounding pain began in his face as he suddenly woke, from his nose and down to his upper teeth. A numbing chilling effect fought for control to minimize the pain, but failed to alleviate the flow of blood down into his mouth and floor.


    It tasted terrible.


    ¡°Gah¡­ this sucks.¡± He groaned between gasps.


    ¡°A little harsh, don¡¯t ya think? The poor boy was already knocked out once. You had to do his stomach in while he¡¯s down?¡± The second voice resounded once more.


    ¡°It woke him up, didn¡¯t it?¡± The first voice said defensively.


    A hand was placed on his shoulder.


    ¡°Sorry bud. I didn¡¯t know he was going to do that.¡±


    A laugh resounded from the other side of him. ¡°I did.¡± A third voice spoke.


    Only when his vision resumed¡ªnow much less blurry, and shallow breaths allowed him to breath did Asterion unfold from the fetal position.


    Some noise resounded from the other side of the room, and he was lifted to his feet by two people. He wasn¡¯t quite ready to stand, leaving him to stumble a little, but eventually gained his footing, standing in the center of three people. One was tall and skinny, one was an athletic build, albiet a bit shorter, and one was rather bulky. The three people looked at him with amusement.


    After a moment, the man that stood taller than himself spoke, raising both hands in the air.


    ¡°All good? Great! Welcome friend, to the Pathfinders! While your induction was a bit harsher than the rest of ours, your no less family! My name is Aaron. The one who kicked you is Peter, and the big guy who knew Peter would kick you is Daren.¡±


    Asterion stood tensed, still a bit stunned from the unceremonious awakening, with fresh blood still dripping around his face overlapping the dried residue of older blood, looking around the cramped space.


    The ceiling was a few feet above them, made of a single slab of rough porous stone. The walls were bare and made of a more elaborate design of the same stone. On one end of the room stood a single door, carved out of wood.


    Noticing Asterion¡¯s gaze remaining on the door, the short guy¡ªPeter, spoke.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t try to leave yet, we¡¯ve been instructed to stay and wait for more people before we go. If they catch you leaving, it¡¯s considered an abandonment of your duties.¡±


    He shifted his gaze to Peter, turning irate.


    ¡°Duties? To who? The damned person who just kidnapped me? Are you crazy?¡±


    Peter gave a tight lip smile.


    ¡°Well¡­ I don¡¯t know why they brought you in bound and bleeding, but we all agreed to this¡­ and they did say no back-sies.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t agree to join the damned Pathfinders!¡± Asterion shot back.


    Then, every person in the room gave him a weird look. Silence took over, leaving the room tense.


    Aaron filled the gap.


    ¡°Uh¡­ sorry bud, I don¡¯t know your name, but maybe you just don¡¯t remember agreeing? They hit you pretty hard, after all. We definitely all agreed to join the Pathfinders, each for our own reasons. The prospects aren¡¯t bad... they don¡¯t just kidnap people,¡± he laughed, looking at Peter, ¡°I mean help me out here, he¡¯s clearly delusional.¡±


    ¡°I can hit him again if you want. Maybe it will knock some sense into him.¡± Peter replied smirking, earning a dirty look from Aaron.


    Daren laughed, ¡°No need, he seems like he knows where he is, at lea¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop!¡± Asterion yelled, cutting Daren off, ¡°I didn¡¯t join the Pathfinders. I know I didn¡¯t, and I¡¯m not crazy! You¡¯re crazy. And stupid if you think joining those extremists is a good idea.¡±


    That earned a chorus of laughter from the three.


    ¡°¡­Extremists!¡±


    ¡°¡­didn¡¯t join¡­¡±


    ¡°Baha¡­ good idea!¡±


    Then, Peter regained his composure and looked at Asterion.


    ¡°Look. Nobody here thought it was a good idea to join at first. When my recruiter came up to me and told me he was a Pathfinder, at first I thought I was about to die¡­ but then he convinced me it could be a better path for my own future. We all know from what we¡¯ve heard about them, but believe me, I¡¯ve been with them for about two days now, and they¡¯re far from extremists.¡±


    ¡®Two days? This dudes been a hostage with the Pathfinders for two days, and he¡¯s already advocating for them? These guys really are extremists!¡¯


    Daren jumped in, ¡°Who recruited you? That would explain a lot. I hear Bearded Brandon¡¯s a little rough on new recruits ¡®to toughen them up.¡¯¡± He said, mimicking air quotes with his fingers near the end.


    ¡°Is that the name of the bastard that punched me? Really!¡± Asterion shot back angrily, attempting to infuse as much sarcasm as possible.


    ¡°Yeah. The guy with the beard who brought you in here is Brandon. He¡¯s rough around the edges, sure, but he would die for you now that your family. He¡¯s what I aspire to be.¡± Peter said, not getting the sarcasm.


    ¡°He¡¯s not an inspiration! He¡¯s a douchbag who runs out on meals. I catered for that bastard yesterday and was starved for it. Then, I got tricked by some blonde guy,¡± Asterion started getting animated, and limping toward the door, ¡°who said his name was Bellarus¡ª but I¡¯m sure that¡¯s fake! Before getting punched and kidnapped by ¡®Brandon.¡¯¡± Asterion seethed.


    He stopped short of the door, turning around to try and open the door with his hands still behind his back. After a few moments of struggle, he huffed and looked at the three men, who were silently staring at him with wide eyes.


    ¡°¡­ did you just say a blonde guy with blue eyes, and his name was Bellarus?¡± Daren said, mouth agape.


    ¡°Uh¡­ I didn¡¯t say anything about his eyes?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s irrelevant! You really got recruited by Bellarus? That¡¯s incredible! What was he like?¡± Aaron said, now equally awestruck as Daren.


    ¡°Is he as impressive as we heard? Who am I kidding¡­ he must be, he¡¯s Starlit!¡± Peter joined, excited.


    Asterion stared back, looking at each of them with a stupefied expression.


    ¡°He¡¯s what now?¡±


    ¡°Starlit.¡± All three spoke in unison.


    ¡°What? No way, the only Starlit of the Pathfinders were the original two¡­ that was centuries ago.¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± Aaron corrected, ¡°according to my recruiter, the Pathfinders numbers have only grown since they moved out of the city about two centuries ago.  And rarely¡­ some awaken Starlight¡­ and become Starlit¡­ so¡­ no.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.Asterion was in disbelief.


    He had never seen a starlit in person before, much less talked to one. They were just too important and mysterious to see one walking on the street casually. They were needed for various tasks that mundane people like himself were just not able to do, acting as a buffer from the more mystical aspects of this deadly realm humanity now calls home. They were also incredibly rare, numbering less than a hundred in a city of nearly a hundred thousand, so each one was at least a named celebrity in Hope.


    He had never heard of a starlit named ¡®Bellarus.¡¯


    But while it was exciting to have potentially seen and talked to a starlit, even an unknown one, Asterion was still skeptical. He was more sure it was just another lie.


    That was for one reason.


    The government which controlled Hope also held a tight fist on that same hundred starlit. They were too uniquely dangerous to be allowed to do whatever they wanted, to go wherever they wanted¡­ and Asterion imagined they would never allow an outside force¡ªmuch less radicals like the Pathfinders¡ª to have potentially deadly soldiers in their midst.


    If one was known¡­ they wouldn¡¯t be allowed to exist outside of the government for long, being inducted into the governments own forces¡­


    Through force if nessesary.


    ¡®¡­ but he did read my mind¡­¡¯ he thought, begrudgingly.


    Asterion did not know what starlit usually looked like. He had never seen one in person. They were often described simply as a stronger and deadlier version of a regular human, wielding inhuman abilities. He imagined they would have some kind of defining feature, such as a radiating light surrounding their silhouette, like he read in a book once¡­ and Bellarus did not have a shining silhouette.


    He didn¡¯t really exemplify strength and deadliness, either. The man hadn¡¯t even carried a weapon from what Asterion recalled. He was sure the dude had a knife hidden somewhere, but it was difficult to hide a sword underneath clothing, since even if he had one, he would see its outline. He didn¡¯t radiate deadliness.


    The only defining feature of the dude was he was above average looking and had a neat party trick.


    Asterion¡¯s face fell flat.


    ¡°Yeah. Not a starlit. And whatever lies they told you to get you to join, you were stupid to believe. I¡¯m going before they kill us all.¡±


    With that jab, Asterion fumbled with the door a bit more, attempting to open it again, when it clicked and opened slightly, leading him to drag the door open behind him and turn around to leave, still looking at the three who had dumbfounded looks on their face.


    ¡­Until he bumped into a leathery chest, knocking him back a step. Standing in the doorway¡­ was Bellarus.


    ¡°Hello. Sorry for the punch, Brandon got ahead of himself. Ready for your orientation?¡±  He raised his hand.


    Asterion backed up another step, flinching.


    Bellarus laughed, before waving his hand for everyone to follow.


    There was a lot on Asterion¡¯s mind. It was reasonable, after all, for a person who was just coerced to follow someone into a building far from the more populated areas and then be tied up, to be. He had already thought that he was in danger. He understood that clearly. If today was his last day, he would not die without trying to at least hurt Bellarus, the person who brought this upon him, or whatever his true name was¡­


    ¡°Relax, I¡¯m not going to hurt you, so please don¡¯t do that. And yes, my name really is Bellarus.¡±


    ¡®Gah! The bastard is still reading my mind! Think of something else¡­ think of something else¡­¡±


    Bellarus frowned at him, then turned and walked away, leaving the door open.


    The three behind him walked past to follow Bellarus speechlessly, like they had just seen a celebrity.


    ¡®Morons! He¡¯s taking us to our deaths!¡¯


    Alas, looking around, there was no where for him to go besides out with them. Still severely bruised from the pain of the last couple days, and this most recent one, Asterion limped with his hands still bound behind him. His nose had stopped bleeding for the most part, leaving him looking like he had just eaten a bowl of tomato paste without the use of his hands.


    Walking out, he found himself back in the room he first entered. In the center of the room sat a dozen people he hadn¡¯t seen before, along with another four empty chairs. The layout was a bit more organized, but otherwise it was exactly the same. Aaron, Peter, and Daren quickly took a seat, Asterion following a few steps behind, much slower.


    Looking toward the entrance, was the same door, along with a familiar face standing next to it.


    ¡®Brandon, huh? That¡¯s your name, bastard¡­¡¯


    He imagined he would at least attempt to harm one of the bastards who caused him to starve before they killed him, as well. The establishment dasher was one of three that served as a catalyst of his current situation, after all.


    Shifting focus back to the rest of the room, Asterion¡¯s anger only grew as Bellarus moved to the front in a classroom-like fashion, clearly indicating he was going to give the orientation himself.


    There were people on his left and behind him, since he sat at the edge of the first row. The people already sat made no noise as they entered, but looked at him specifically with a silent question. That question¡­ only made Asterion more upset as he tried to keep his thoughts covered from being spied on.


    That question being: ¡®What the hell happened to that guy?¡¯


    A quick glance around at the other people made it evident he was the only victim here.


    ¡®What the hell? Why am I the only one who¡¯s bleeding!¡¯ He thought begrudgingly.


    It would have made it a little better if he wasn¡¯t the only person who got tricked and forced to be present at orientation. He may have tried to run, sure, but he was never the fastest runner when he needed to be. Moreover, the door was closed! He couldn¡¯t have run even if he tried. The whole situation left him in a less than talkative state about the matter. He knew if he started, it would likely end up with him on the end of Brandon¡¯s sword.


    It was also evident that the other people in the room were just as confused as he was as to why he was in such rough shape, considering nobody else had their hands tied behind their backs nor looked very injured.


    ¡®Gosh¡­ all these people want to join the Pathfinders willingly? They have plenty! Why the hell am I being forced to?¡¯


    He looked at Bellarus with narrow eyes trying to set him on fire with his fiery stare, who only glanced in his direction for a moment before turning back to the rest of the room.


    ¡®That¡¯s right bastard, read that!¡¯


    Then, he began.


    ¡°Hello, guys and gals. My name is Lord Bellarus. I am in charge today. Captain Brandon, the bearded fellow in the back is my second in command. If you have any issues, you¡¯re to go to him before coming to me.¡±


    He paused for a moment, looking at each and every person.


    ¡°We are family now. That means that we may have to make choices that are hard for ourselves, but better for the family. Always choose the family. Joining the Pathfinders is not something to take lightly. If you wish to leave, say so now before you make an oath to your duties, because breaking an oath not only dishonors yourself, but will result in your execution.¡±


    The room was silent, people looking around for anyone who would refuse to join. It was hard to notice everybody glancing his way, waiting for his refusal.


    Asterion was silent too, though. He knew better than to speak now and tell everyone in the room he wasn¡¯t one of them. That would likely lead his own demise¡­ especially since they kidnapped him. If they¡¯re willing to do that, what else would they be willing to do?


    Honor was a fickle thing, however. It was so hard to maintain, and so easy to diminish. Asterion had, on many occasions suffered to maintain his. Whether it was stealing from someone easy to steal from to feed himself, or simply returning what was lost in front of him when it would benefit himself more to keep it instead¡­


    He had as much honor as he could have as an orphan. It was difficult, and he wasn¡¯t perfect, but he tried to stay on the brighter side of it. It just felt right. So¡­ even he had limits on who he would steal from, and what he would return if he happened across certain items.


    But what about making a false oath to a cause he didn¡¯t believe in?


    If he continued, he would have to make an oath to their cause¡­ and part of himself knew that was wrong.


    An internal battle was fighting inside Asterion¡¯s head. One side fought for his own survival, wanting him to just swear the false oath and abandon them¡­ and the other wanting him to refuse the oath and take what inevitability comes after. He would at least die with dignity.


    He wasn¡¯t quite sure it crossed his code of ethics. He would be lying to save himself, like he has done many times, true, but then where was the line¡­


    ¡°We will swear the oaths in a few moments. For now I will give you a description of what our task will be over the next few months. It¡¯s a bit different from what would happen normally with new recruits since there¡¯s so many this time around. There¡¯s reason for that.¡±


    ¡®¡­ what if I try and run right now¡­ before the oath part?¡¯ Asterion thought.


    He turned to throw a glance at at Brandon, who stood at the door with a flat expression, one hand strewn across his chest, hugging his chest plate, and one resting on the hilt of his sword.


    ¡®Maybe not¡­¡¯ he turned back to the front.


    Bellarus continued, his tone turning more serious.


    ¡°We are in the entrance phase to a massive operation at the moment. Obviously, you are now pathfinders, and as such your first responsibility will be participating in its completion. As a pathfinder, the walls that have kept you safe your whole life are nothing but a barrier now to your greater self. The first step will be stepping away from them and braving the world outside, as our ancestors have long ago.¡±


    He paused again, this time because a murmur resounded from those seated.


    ¡®Massive operation? Outside the walls?¡¯


    Asterion¡¯s body tensed.


    Once the sound of chatter died, Bellarus continued.


    ¡°I cannot tell you everything right now. Trust me that the journey we endure together will be long and harsh. So long, in fact, that we must leave as soon as possible. Tonight.¡±

 Chapter 5: Oathkeeper

    Soon after Bellarus finished speaking, the shocked recruits were told to stand and make an oath to the Pathfinders. It was a dire situation for Asterion, since he didn¡¯t really believe in the cause.


    It was strange to see a dozen people willing to go beyond the walls and die. That was what befell anyone who ventured past Hope¡¯s safety.


    Looking at the others present, Asterion was both terrified and in a somber mood. Some had the same face he did, that of shock and awe. Others were equally scared as well. Some even looked excited.


    But one feeling was held collectively among the crowd. That of hope. It took a moment for Asterion to realize its feeling as what it was that tensed the air, but after watching the faces of the others for a few moments, it was clearly a sense of future.


    ¡®What future, fools? To die beyond the walls, horribly to some beast, instead of in them?¡¯ He thought, bitterly.


    He didn¡¯t know what tragic events befell the others, but nothing in his mind could have excused the desire to venture out of safety of Hope. He had never thought he would leave its walls. It just wasn¡¯t worth dying for.


    Yet he still had to make a terrible decision. That decision would change the course of his life, as short as it may be if he chose wrong¡­


    The choice to make a false oath or not.


    Now past the point of no return, there was no leaving. The armed Pathfinder, Brandon, still guarded the entrance door.


    A battle was waged in his own mind, whether to draw the line and give up his facade at the oath, revealing himself as a fake¡­ or to give in to his captors.


    Asterion¡¯s inner termoil was fruitless, however. He knew exactly what he would do. Perhaps, in a different life, he would have had the strength to resist. To dare his moral compass to switch polarity, but he could not. There really was no return.


    Once he made an oath, he would keep to it.


    It was funny, for something as easily given as one¡¯s word to hold such weight even in the aftermath of treachery. Yet it did, for some reason. Asterion wasn¡¯t sure why, but every part of his being was sure that holding himself to his own word was more important than even staying alive.


    It put him above those around him. It separated the weak from the great. It was large enough to define a person. It is even what drove countless humans, in the wake of Earth¡¯s disaster three centuries ago to their deaths with a smile. The stories of heroic individuals, known for their defiance in the face of death, not giving up even in the end to save the very people they said they¡¯d protect when they could have saved themselves instead.


    Well¡­ in his mind at least.


    ¡®Perhaps im a fool too.¡¯ He thought, smiling.


    Bellarus had made his way down the line of the front row, now standing just to his left in front of Aaron. Fear was leaking out of his pitched voice as he made the oath, but in the end, he recited Bellarus¡¯ low speech word for word.


    ¡®Well¡­ here we go.¡¯ He thought, somberly.


    Then, Bellarus made a step to his left, now standing in front of Asterion. He remained silent, letting the air between them tense, just like he had done for the others. Though, knowing him a bit longer than the others, Asterion was sure he was just taking a moment to invade his thoughts, seeking for truth behind their oaths.


    Asterion quickly regained his own composure, putting up an angry facade. He was ready to publicly refuse, to speak his own mind for the harsh treatment he has endured in the company of the Parhfinders. How, if he were not bound and capable, he would harm every person here for their individual parts in it. It would be difficult, to push blame to the people he hadn¡¯t ever seen before, such as the new recruits, since they wanted the same thing that tricked him into following Bellarus.


    But he would at least try¡­


    Bellarus looked at Asterion with continuously darkening eyes as the silence between them lengthened. His eyebrows turned down and a frown formed on his lips, indicating that he understood.


    He knew exactly what he was thinking. And Asterion was sure of it. He knew every reason for his refusal, every bruise and second of starvation that he had endured to bring him here, he read in his mind the bitter truth that Asterion had accepted long ago.


    That truth being the world was cruel. It was cruel, especially, to people like him. With his parents death, the only people who cared about him were gone. What was left were the crumbs a crippled society gave to the unfortunate souls they felt even worse for. He was eating those crumbs each and every day, waiting for the moment that the crumbs were spread too thin and he starved.


    Those crumbs took many forms. One could be literal starvation. But it could also be a choice between two deaths. Deaths that could have been easily avoided if he were someone important.


    ¡®You people disgust me.¡¯ Asterion thought, staring at Bellarus¡¯s deadly gaze, matching it with his defiant own. He wanted him to hear it.


    Then, when he was ready to open his mouth and refuse in front of everybody, a thought stopped him in his tracks.


    ¡®You think death is the worst thing that can happen to you?¡¯


    He was taken aback, but regained his composure and then faked a slim smile.


    The surprise of his own voice resounding inside his head was laughable to Asterion, considering it wasn¡¯t even his own thought. Truthfully though, It was frightening, for your own voice to resound in your mind but not bear your thought. However, Asterion¡¯s resignation of his fate triumphed any fear he was experiencing.


    ¡®Of course you can communicate mentally. You¡¯re starlit! Why wouldn¡¯t you be able to? Is your bag of tricks getting light yet?¡¯ He thought sarcastically.


    ¡®God, your pathetic. You sit here, after claiming you want a better life than the one owed to you, and are willing to take anything, but when it¡¯s presented to you on a platter, that just because it¡¯s different to how you imagined, you would rather die because your, what, more morally righteous than the people next to you?¡¯ The voice resounded in his head once more.


    ¡®Is that what you think this is? That I think I¡¯m better than these people for not wanting to be kidnapped and forced to join your stupid cult?¡¯


    Bellarus, who stood just in front of Asterion, twitched his eyes a little at the mention of ¡®cult¡¯.


    ¡®Yes. You do think you are better than them. You think you¡¯re the only person who¡¯s thoughts im able to see? I see each and every one of them, their reasons, doubts, and ambitions. You, by far, are the most rediculous one of the group. Each of them were promised nothing different than you, and still, even with less than them, you would think yourself more righteous than them to refuse our path?¡¯


    A hint of sadness formed on Bellarus¡¯ lips, before his voice continued, sounding like he did when he was sad.


    ¡®Yes, I suppose you would rather die starved and forgotten in the streets of the great Citadel of Hope than to be accepting of people brave enough to seek a better future. They sit around you right now. Take a better look so you don¡¯t forget them when your hungry later. My apologies for thinking I could have helped you. Refuse. We won¡¯t kill you, just keep you in a cell till we leave the city. You¡¯ll be fine, and you will go back to your eventful life of starving for food and seeking shelter.¡¯


    After that, the pause that enveloped them was incredibly tense. It may have been strange from an outside view, the two of them staring at each other. The others were watching them, confused, waiting for Bellarus to start the oath, but only those closest could feel the tension. They shifted uncomfortably, but Bellarus ignored them all, staring at Asterion with piercing gaze.


    Then¡­


    Silence.


    Silence that felt like it lasted forever. He couldn¡¯t think of a rebuttal.


    Asterion stood, wide eyed, looking at Bellarus. Still bound, he shifted to lean toward his other side to hide the uncomfortable feeling seeping up through him. His mouth, long dried of saliva and still bloody red, left him unable to swallow properly, as if his throat would not allow him to. The feeling was a silent agony. Not one that physically affected him, but a symptom of a larger disease, evidenced by his crowding thoughts.


    Bellarus¡¯s words hit him harder than any physical blow he had received recently, or any he could receive for that matter.


    His words, while harsh, were true.


    The feeling he grew was slowly forming into a gut wrenching realization.


    He forgot the entire reason he followed Bellarus to this building in the first place. It wasn¡¯t simply because he thought it might be a better opportunity. Rather, it was because no matter what else there was to the offer, no matter what else he would have to endure¡­


    it was better than what awaited him elsewhere, regardless of its faults.


    The starvation, homelessness, and constant survival game society forced him to play was tiring and suffocating. Worse, it would not diminish with going to work in a factory for money. Sure, he could fix one or most of the three temporarily¡­ but when he inevitably got sick or injured, he would suffer just the same as he did before he started.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.He was too focused on the negative of his situation to see its potential. The starvation that, in his mind at least, led to being tricked and punched may have been the main culprits¡­ but he let himself be blinded by them, reliving their painful memory and exchanging it for a death warrant¡­


    A path that led outside the walls, and braving the harsh world out there was in reality little different from the harsh world inside Hope.


    Staying inside Hope was just more hopeless.


    Asterion looked at the other recruits sheepishly, breaking the tense staring contest. Aaron, Peter, and Daren were watching him expectantly, waiting for him to join them in their vow. Bellarus did not move, still staring with darkened eyes, giving him a moment of reprieve in his own thoughts. He was sure he could still read them, and was watching his thought process proceed.


    He sighed, now guilt ridden and anxious.


    It was hard for a person to admit they are wrong. He didn¡¯t forgive Bellarus for lying to him about the job, and he especially couldn¡¯t forgive Brandon, who still stood in the back, for his transgressions. But¡­


    After walking through the city of Hope for years without hope for his own future, he almost didn¡¯t recognize it. Asterion felt a dense veil uncovering, showing him opportunity for the first time in so long.


    Bellarus nodded subtly so that only Asterion could notice, his expression lightening, but maintaining a serious demeanor as Asterion came to his own answer. Clearly waiting to hear it thought vividly.


    With a final anxious sigh, he thought, with as much conviction he could muster.


    ¡®My path takes me with you. There is nothing for me here anymore, there hasn¡¯t been for a long time...¡¯ he paused momentarily, then continued, ¡®I will take the oath. And I will keep to it.¡¯


    Bellarus responded aloud, a sly smile breaking through his serious expression.


    ¡°With such conviction? You¡¯ll do just fine. Repeat after me¡­¡±


    Asterion didn¡¯t waiver once speaking the words directly to Bellarus. It was oddly intimate, to have the person who brought you initiate your oath as well. Still, since Asterion didn¡¯t know the contents of the oath he was taking, Bellarus used his power and spoke the oath into his head, like he had done with the others, allowing them to repeat it out loud with slightly more grace¡­


    ¡°


    To the Pathfinders, I give my oath of fealty. Until my final breath, my loyalty shall remain unbroken. Through my life, I will serve humanity, carving a path toward a greater tomorrow. Through my death, I shall become the foundation upon which that future is built.


    As the constellations guide the lost, so too shall I guide those who follow, and by my light, forge a way forward for humanity.


    For the next generation, I pledge not only survival, but a chance to thrive. In the depths of despair, we will rise. From the heart of danger, we will prevail.


    For I now bear the title Pathfinder.


    ¡°


    When he was finished, Bellarus nodded once more, this time with much more depth and pride flashing across his face, and spoke into his mind once more before moving on to the second row of standing recruits behind him.


    ¡®Good choice.¡¯ His own voice resounded, sounding hollow.


    Soon after the last recruit finished their oaths, Asterion was untied by Bellarus before he gave another speech, acting nonchalant as ever. This one was much more personal, about his own family and his experience becoming a pathfinder. He spoke about the harsh reality of being called a pathfinder years ago compared to today, and how the newer generation is much more inclined to join because of the way the government has grown incapable in the eyes of the people.


    After speech, Asterion had even managed to find his way to the bathroom shortly after, using it to wash most of the blood that covered his mouth and chin away. It was a little uncomfortable because his hands had been in one position for hours. The water did nothing to hide the blood that had seeped into his shirt, though.


    Inside the bathroom, Asterion took a moment and looked in the mirror, realizing it was the first time in many hours he got a moment of respite from having other people around. The whole time he stood at the sink, staring at a portion in the mirror where a line fractured the reflective surface, splitting it into multiple hanging pieces. It hung just above the counter, somehow hanging on with its shattered surface. The sink below ran with water a shade darker than most clean water. It was obviously too dirty to drink, and would sicken him if he tried. But it worked its magic to create a more soothing environment compared to the one he had just been subjected to a little bit ago. He had realized that something about the sound of flowing water just calmed him a long time ago.


    A tear formed in his eyes. It had taken a lot of thought within himself to make the oath, but it changed nothing for the fact he would have a much different life than he imagined. Whether for better or worse, he was now a pathfinder.


    As he stood, watching himself, thoughts that were suppressed into the back of his mind and the consequences of his actions were slowly rising to the surface, filling him with inconsistencies. It felt as if a small hairline crack was forming on his heart.


    The acceptance of his new peers would not happen overnight, of course. He was now one of them, and to hate them would be akin to hating himself. The change from believing the pathfinders were insane to being one himself was also heavy on his mind.


    The hairline crack grew a bit longer.


    ¡®Perhaps that¡¯s why he allowed me to swear the oath. He saw ill keep to it no matter what I believe about them...¡¯ He thought, bitterly.


    It wasn¡¯t the fact that he didn¡¯t believe the pathfinders weren¡¯t extremists anymore. He still thought they were absolutely insane to go beyond Hope¡¯s safe walls. Rather, it was the fact that he was willing to become one himself. He was just an insane man now, as well.


    Nevertheless, it was both exhilarating and terrifying. He swore the oath, and he knew he was going to keep his word. It was his line, after all. But in the loneliness of the small room, the unsettled emotions of his past were rising, too. The crack was growing to form on his own heart, just like the mirror. After a long while of staring at himself in the damaged mirror, he let the wall he had long built up over the years crumble.


    The anger at the numerous people who had wronged him.. the fear of not having safety.. the desire for a better future¡­


    In the bathroom, it all culminated into a small panic attack. He gasped for air as a silent tears dripped from the edges of his unmoving eyes down his cheeks and into the sink. Never once did he move his sight from himself, nor did any noise leave his lips. Here, he could let it go, and decompress for a brief moment where nobody would witness his weakness.


    He stayed like that, for a while gathering his own strength to face the consequences of his oath and continue on. He had a feeling he wouldn¡¯t have a lot of privacy outside the walls. Privacy usually meant being alone, and being alone outside the walls meant certain death¡­


    In the end, the tears left Asterion feeling both slightly relieved and bitterly defeated. He could continue on, now, shoving whatever harrowing pains he was about to endure as a pathfinder down into the depths of his heart, and continue to masquerade as someone strong enough to be worth giving a life to.


    Taking one last look at the mirror, he moved and shut off the sink running the spoiled water, and wiped a last tear from his cheek to clean up the physical evidence of his clashing spirit.


    Walking out of the bathroom, he found his way back to the center room to mingle with the others. He had carefully avoided Brandon, now conversations with a few recruits grouped together to the side, knowing he wasn¡¯t quite ready to talk to him.


    He may not outright try and kill him immediately for causing his starvation, knocking him out, and binding him up¡­ but he wasn¡¯t sure that he could prevent himself from provoking the man¡ªwho still had a sword¡­ who was also now his superior into attacking him, instead.


    ¡®Ha¡­ I don¡¯t think I could even if I wanted to right now¡­¡¯


    Asterion was a bit out of his head at the moment. He wanted to try to make some friends, if he could. There were many choices, considering he was already decently acquainted with 4 of the people present. But there was something stopping him emotionally from bridging that gap. He felt hollow, tired even from letting all the bottled up emotions out for the first time in a long while.


    So, he decided to just avoid everyone all together, taking his original seat and moving it to the end of the room, where he could be alone, and watched the crowd from a distance.


    It¡­ looked a bit strange.


    It wasn¡¯t a very big room. And he wasn¡¯t very far from everybody. He could hear what they were saying, and they could see him clearly watching them.


    When Aaron noticed him sitting alone, he waved Asterion over, but he just shook his head and continued people watching. Suddenly, a thought popped into his head, making him more lively¡­


    ¡®Wait. Am I even going to be an assistant?¡¯

 Chapter 6: Wanted Criminal

    As the sun began to set, everybody¡¯s nerves rose in a near equilibrium. There were no visible windows to tell what time it was exactly, since they were all covered, but the natural clocks infused in everybody present spoke volumes of the day¡¯s approaching end.


    As the newest Oath takers of the pathfinder organization drew calmer breaths, they grew sleepier when the time they would normally fall into sleep came and passed.


    They forced themselves to remain awake, though.


    They had to. Their first directive was they were to exit the city of Hope with the two senior pathfinders. Knowledge that they were soon to leave the protective walls drew on everybody¡¯s nerves. It forced away any semblance of a need for rest.


    Well¡­ for mostly everybody.


    Asterion had a nap recently¡ªas unfortunate as it was. It did have its benefits. His sleep had been quite nasty the past two days, but the punch let his consciousness rest for a bit longer than it would have otherwise.


    The result was that he was actually decently awake when everybody was fighting their circadian rhythm for control over their slowed minds and bodies. It did nothing for the thrill he felt in his heart, though.


    He laughed maniacally.


    ¡®Gosh. Well. Life, it¡¯s been nice! My time has come.¡¯


    He was pretty sure he wasn¡¯t going to last very long out in the untamed wilderness of Eden.


    It didn¡¯t help that he¡ªalong with everybody, knew nothing about where they were going. They hadn¡¯t been let into the secret of how they are going to leave the sealed and guarded gates of the outer wall, nor where they were heading after achieving that difficult task.


    Well, except for Bellarus and Brandon, of course.


    One thing that made it a little easier for everybody were the presence of the two men. They acted as a pillar of leadership and example.


    That leadership being that both men were their superior¡­ leading and calming nerves with their own calm demeanor. While the example being the fact they were standing in front of them.


    They came from the untamed wilderness into the city of Hope, after all. They had already found their way in. Why wouldn¡¯t they be able to find their way back out?


    Still, it was all very nerve wracking on Asterion.


    ¡®Ah. We¡¯re all going to become criminals.¡¯


    It was illegal to breach the inner wall. So much so, that those found to have done so are punished harshly. The sentence for being found doing so was a minimum of two years in a small cell¡ªand depending on the severity, up to a death sentence. Most of those that do are smuggling resources in and out of the rich, resource dense district that sat just outside the castle, which housed noble families, many related to the royal family who controlled the government.


    It was equally illegal, however, to breach the outer wall. It was just much rarer to catch someone doing it. Once they successfully made it outside of the wall, they weren¡¯t searched for anymore. The soldiers stationed on it knew they wouldn¡¯t last the night out in the harrowing realm beyond the wall.


    ¡­Unless you¡¯re guided by a pathfinder.


    It was very rare for a pathfinder to enter through the gates of the outer wall. It took a lot of time for a person from the outside to be admitted through the gates, a lot of questioning, and a lot of forced answers. Most simply found their own, less than legal ways in.


    Which led to the current situation.


    Two of the eighteen people present were already wanted criminals. It¡¯s just that nobody noticed they weren¡¯t from their side of the wall yet. By the end of the night, the other sixteen would be equally criminals.


    Their disappearances would be noted in the way they lived their lives before they left. Some would be identified before others, some marked missing, and others presumably marked deceased.


    If they ever returned the legal way¡ªthrough the gate entrance, they would be imprisoned¡­ or if found alive after smuggling themselves inside and escaping, marked alive as exiles, which carried its own problems.


    Asterion looked toward Brandon and Bellarus.


    ¡®That¡¯s probably what happened to them.¡¯


    He was in the presence of two wanted criminals¡ªpossibly even real exiles.


    Eventually, sometime between midnight and morning, Brandon moved toward the wall and moved aside the blanket that covered a window. From where Asterion was in the room, he could also see out. Well¡­ he couldn¡¯t really see, exactly, but that was because there was only blackness on the other side of the window.


    ¡°It¡¯s time.¡± He said, turning back.


    With a nod, Bellarus spoke loudly, so that everybody could hear clearly.


    ¡°Okay. Here is how we will be leaving Hope. Brandon and I will take you to the edges of the wall, where we will meet with a guard we have paid to look the other way. We will split into two groups¡­¡± he pointed to eight of the recruits close to him, ¡°you eight with me, the rest of you will follow Brandon.¡±


    While Asterion was a bit surprised at the mention of paying off a wall guard so casually, it seemed quite reasonable, in hindsight.


    The walls, like many buildings in Hope, were built from massive bricks consisting of a rather mystical rock that was immensely durable. It did not scratch, chip, or blemish over the uncountable years even before humanity took it over. There was simply no chance they would have ever been able to rip a hole through it.


    If they had been able to, the creatures that roamed outside would have been able to over the countless centuries, as well.


    But when humans arrived Hope was not abandoned and uninhabited. Creatures did exist both inside the city and its impenetrable castle. They had simply climbed over.


    Asterion looked around at the others¡­ then looked down at himself.


    ¡®We¡¯re not exactly climbing shape, are we...¡¯


    Getting sixteen people over a wall would be difficult¡­ getting them over ¡®the¡¯ wall, would be impossible. It sat above the city like a flattened mountainside.


    Of course, Asterion had never seen a mountain in person, living in the city for his entire life, but from what he read they sounded very similar to any tall piece of ground.


    The only other viable option would have been to simply walk through an opened gate, passing a couple unscrupulous guards on the way out.


    Unfortunately for him, he wasn¡¯t pointed out to join Bellarus¡¯s group, which left him in the caring hands of Bearded Brandon¡­ who was known for being harsh¡­


    ¡®Ah¡­ that¡¯s great.¡¯ He thought, sighing sarcastically


    One decent thing was that within his group, he was already acquainted with three of the other seven. It seemed Peter, Daren, and Aaron were also left out of the first picks.


    Brandon called his squabble of recruits to him, waving an impatient hand while doing so. As he did, Bellarus, who had already quickly explained the route to them, walked his party to the door and outside, closing the door behind them.


    ¡®Why aren¡¯t we leaving with him?¡¯


    It seemed a bit rediculous to not join them, since that would mean they would be distantly separated by the time they left, as well.


    Brandon, meanwhile, simply huffed, aiming to call attention to himself.


    ¡°Okay people. We will leave shortly as well. Taking a slightly different path. The city patrol gets more active at night, so we will have to be careful to avoid them. If one gets suspicious and we¡¯re caught, it¡¯s a big issue.¡±


    He paused, causing the recruits who stood around to shift anxiously¡­


    ¡°You¡¯re to follow me, and be careful about being too far behind. It¡¯s suspicious if there¡¯s a train of people walking in the direction of the wall. In the event we are found, you are to make your way to the eastern gate as fast as possible avoiding capture. The guards there will be expecting you, but do not engage with them. Just run as fast as you can through its opened gates, and they won¡¯t give chase.¡±


    Asterion¡¯s heart began to rush a tad. ¡®What do you mean ¡°in the event?¡± Has it happened before?¡¯


    After his instructions, he stood for another long minute, moved toward the window to take another look, and then moved toward the door, seeming to cast a lengthy shadow of eight anxious people.


    They all walked out together, forming a tight group as they nearly jogged down the street. The tense atmosphere of each step outside the building was enough to wake the sleepiest of anybody¡¯s mind, but it did nothing to energize their bodies. Their movements were slightly less coordinated, and it was hard to walk both fast and silently.


    Everybody except for Asterion, at least¡ªand Brandon.


    Walking down the street in the rear of the pack, Asterion looked up at the colossal that rose above the horizon of buildings. The Outer Wall. It¡¯s grey stone bricks were illuminated by the full moon that now passed the midline of the sky, marking it as shortly past midnight. It was still a bit of a journey to the wall, at least another fifteen minutes, since they¡¯ve walked some distance by now.


    Each minute they were outside was a minute they could have been caught by a patrol. Brandon seemed to turn randomly in and out of side streets, following some pre planned circuit through the buildings that littered the outer edge close to the wall. Asterion had thought at first that he was just wasting time making random cuts through alleys, but as the last of the pack, he was also witness to the most harrowing experience of any of the recruits.


    That experience was the noise of heavy metallic footsteps and distant conversation of an approaching patrol. Just as he slipped into an alleyway to the parallel street, he heard from further down the street a pair of guards rounding the corner.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.¡®They have the entire city patrol route mapped.¡¯ Asterion realized, his heart still in his stomach from the close call.


    The thought was both horrifying and reassuring.


    Five minutes in, the nervousness that plagued everybody only grew. It was obvious they wouldn¡¯t catch up to Bellarus¡¯s party, but the lack of knowledge of how far ahead they are¡ªor if they even made it, was excrusiating.


    Taking a moment of rest, Brandon, who was still ahead of the group paused on a shaded alley corner to look down the street, and muttered a stifled curse.


    It would have been funny in a different situation to see the faces of everybody present freeze in surprise. But it wasn¡¯t a different situation¡­ and Asterion froze with terror, as well. It was the difference between being imprisoned and escaping the city and embracing his new life¡­


    So, when Brandon¡¯s low curse left his mouth, Asterion was the first to look in his direction, somehow beating those huddled around him. He had been watching the back of the group, adding a layer of protection to Brandon¡¯s occasional glance backward. He would have sounded the alarm had a patrol seen them¡­ or¡­ they would know faster than that when he simply ran past everybody in the opposite direction, at least.


    Brandon quickly motioned for everybody to hug the wall of the alley, to hide in the deepest shadows of the building on either side of them. Just in time for two armed and armored men to rush past the opening in a hasty sprint.


    ¡®Guards¡­¡¯


    Ironically, the two men were rushing toward the same direction they were going, toward the wall.


    ¡®Meaning that more than likely Bellarus¡¯s group had been caught.¡¯ He realized.


    Asterion¡¯s heart, which was already in his stomach up to this point was now deep in his feet. It was almost like a weight held them down preventing him from moving. He had never been the most fearful individual, but the thought of a small army of swords and spears coming his way to stop him from leaving didn¡¯t inspire a final stand mentality.


    Rather, it made him want to beat himself for thinking this was a good idea.


    ¡®Well, all is not lost¡­ if only half of us are found, we still have a chance at getting out.¡¯


    He wasn¡¯t very hopeful. Any smart person could conclude that any group of people heading towards the direction of the wall were probably trying to get out. There wasn¡¯t many ways for them to leave, though. They would know they were going to try it¡¯s weakest point¡ªthe configurable door to the inside.


    Looking back toward the group, Brandon muttered lowly, his gruff voice full of precision and seriousness.


    ¡°Okay. We will continue on together, we still have a chance. We will make it through the gate no matter what. Do not worry, your comrades in Bellarus¡¯s party are in good hands. He is fine.¡±


    His words were so full of conviction that only someone who knew they were true would be able to utter them. It eased most people¡¯s fraying nerves immediately. One thing caught Asterion¡¯s attention, though. Something not mentioned in the reassuring message.


    So¡­ he asked about it.


    ¡°S-sir. What about the patrols that might reinforce the gate¡­?¡±


    Captain Brandon did not answer, obviously ignoring his question, returning to look back toward the street for an opportunity to continue.


    His nonresponse was in itself a response to Asterion. It meant one of two things¡­


    One, there won¡¯t be any of the patrol reinforcing the gate, and their ability to pass through will remain uncontested. That he was worried for nothing, not even deeming it as an issue worth responding to¡­


    Or¡ªand more likely, some would inevitably move to reinforce the gate, forcing the guards who were paid to look the other way to turn against them, close the gates, and bar their passage, becoming their number one issue¡­


    ¡®We¡¯re so screwed¡¯ he thought.


    After a moment looking, Brandon made a low noise and rushed across the street into the opposite alleyway, and the eight recruits followed in pursuit.


    Another minute passed as the group, now no longer in a walking pace as they ran through the streets, stopped to let Brandon ensure the way was clear before continuing through.


    He moved, and everyone else did right behind him. Asterion was of course still last. He maintained his unofficial position as the rear with diligence, careful to not to be too behind everybody, while also checking to make sure nobody was behind them.


    So, he was quite surprised when he bumped into the back of the person in front of him, who stood frozen in the middle of a dark street. They weren¡¯t close to the next concealed alleyway. And there was no obvious reason to stop.


    ¡°What the hell, Peter? Go!¡± He whispered, urging him to continue following the people in front of him, and making an effort to sidestep and run on in front of him.


    But before he could, Peter held him back with a stiff arm across his chest before he could pass, blocking his passage.


    With the new angle, Asterion saw what blocked the path¡­ or rather who blocked it.


    It was Daren. He stood in a standstill looking down the moonlit street. Everything was dark, so he couldn¡¯t see his face through the shadows of night, but from his stiff demeanor, it seemed the man was afraid.


    ¡°Daren. What are you doing? Go!¡± He whispered urgently.


    The others of the party were already running, moving out of line of sight of the alley they were about to run through.


    Peter, who stood next to him, cursed under his breath. It wasn¡¯t a curse of hatred, nor one of sadness. And it wasn¡¯t directed at Daren, who¡¯s chest was rapidly intensifying as began to backpeddle up the street.


    It was a curse born out of fear.


    Looking down the street, Asterion found what caused the three of them to be left behind by the group. A shout was the last thing he heard before his ears began to ring from the adrenaline shooting through his veins, empowering him.


    Two guard patrols had rounded the corner down the street in the midst of their exposure, and were obviously looking at the three of them. He wondered for a split second if they could play it off.


    ¡®Maybe they didn¡¯t see the rest of the group. We can play it off as simple wanderers¡­¡¯


    Then, both men got very irate, shouting amongst themselves before one separated to run in the same direction of the rest of the group, parallel to the alleyway and farther down the street.


    ¡®No. Guess not.¡¯


    The remaining guard, still very far away, began to run towards them shouting for them to stay.


    Asterion had no intention to listen and wait to see what the agitated guard was wanting, though. He immediately turned around and booked it up the street. Behind him, Peter and Daren seemed to get the message as well, their footsteps echoing his behind him.


    Sprinting in the dark, the trio made little distance between themselves and the guard.


    At one point, they ran into another patrol, this one directly in front of them and alerted by the shouts of the man behind them. So, they pivoted their haste into a side street and used it as an opportunity to run back in the direction of the wall, entering the next street on the other side in a hurry.


    ¡®Gah. This is exhausting.¡¯ Asterion thought.


    The trio, but mostly Asterion, were panting heavily as they ran from the two men now giving chase.


    Peter yelled from the front of the pack frantically. ¡°What do we do!?¡±


    Daren, without his usual jokes, replied immediately, nearly cutting Peter off midsentence.


    ¡°What do you think, you imbecile?¡±


    Asterion wanted to join him in the quip, but was too focused on not tripping and breathing to talk. It was clear from the growing distance between themselves and the two guards that they were slowing down, weighed down by their heavy armaments.


    Dashing through the street, the wall towered above them just ahead. It¡¯s imposing figure blockading the starlit sky beyond it, and casting a darker shadow against the city of Hope.


    Unfortunately, they could not join them in slowing down, since the street they chose to run on was actually the Main Street that led directly to the eastern gate of the wall. Without the circuited path that they were originally going guided by Brandon, all it took were the patrols behind them to get lucky and for them to come into contact with a guard ahead of them, leaving them with no escape.


    ¡®Ah¡­ I have never run this hard in my life.¡¯


    Asterion¡¯s heart felt like it was ripping through his own chest, attempting to escape the clutches of his sternum and break free of the violence he was putting it through.


    The buildings on either side, which grew both smaller and emptier as the wall ahead grew taller. The outskirt buildings were nearly all empty, aside from a few conspicuous people making it their home. It was just too far from most of the population to be habitable.


    But Asterion knew that the wall¡¯s height was only a play on his mind. The wall stayed the same height, they were just getting closer, meaning they were closing in on the gates.


    Just as that thought was occuring, he saw something that utterly surprised all three of them, nearly tripping Peter in the process. Ahead, just out of a shaded alcove ran five people¡­


    The rest of his own group¡ªeveryone guided by Brandon¡ªBarreled out of the alleyway, rushing in the same direction they were, and sparing only a moments glance at the three of them as the group kept running.


    Only one thing was on his mind when the last of the recruits revealed themselves.


    ¡®Where¡¯s Brandon?¡¯

 Chapter 7: Ruins

    Seeing the others did not slow the three of them at all. They understood their cover under the veil of night was blown. There was no hiding, especially with the two guards still on their tail.


    Running past the alley opening, Asterion was only able to get a glimpse of the dark cooridor, trying to see where his grumpy captain was. There was nobody.


    It wasn¡¯t a thing he did out of the goodness of his heart. He needed the man to tell him what the hell they were going to do after they made it out of the gate.


    Alas, with no idea, the only thing to do was to run with the group toward the approaching gate. The gate lay just ahead, no less imposing than the wall that it was inset upon.


    The gate was forged of thick resilient metal, attached inside the wall itself through an unseen mechanism. It was nearly as durable as the stone bricks that made up the wall, but it did not have the unblemished quality that the stoney edifice held. There were chips and scratches covering the steel pillars inset into the massive wooden door.


    Asterion shivered to think about what abominations could have made such deep scratches into mystical steel over the uncountable years Hope had endured.


    But there was another reason he shivered. One much more important than the reverent curiousity of history.


    The doors, which should have been opened, waiting for their escape, were completely shut. The wood and steel door was sealed, its surface impenetrable, sitting as if mocking anyone wanting passage. He had a feeling they would not be opening soon before he reached them.


    ¡®It¡¯s over¡­¡¯ he thought, his mind numbing.


    The shouts of the patrols still on their tails rang like a bell, warning those ahead of the prey they have in their sights. As he got closer, it was obvious who they were calling to.


    Four guards, who sat at the foot of the doors oblivious to them immediately looked in their direction. Pulling the swords from their hips, they readied to meet the group of eight people rushing at them. It was obvious what they were readying. If the group running at them did not stop, they would stop them regardless at the cost of their lives¡­


    ¡®Oh no.¡¯


    But what was there to do? Their captain was nowhere to be seen. The other party was missing, too. It was just them alone.


    Just as the front of the group began hesitating, slowing from their sprint into a light jog, a shout rang out from one of the guards at the door, ferocity imbedded in his every word..


    ¡°Halt, or we will¡ª¡°


    The sound of his voice was cut off from a much heavier noise. The guard who spoke began to turn around, suddenly surprised.


    Asterion¡¯s eyes widened.


    The gate, which was still and silent before, was now opening slowly, giving a vast deep rumble to the surrounding area. The three guards that sat behind the one shouting moved with immense speed, not showing any hesitation. Even before the guard turned around, two of them standing on either side swung their blades to cut down the first guard. One aimed high, at the neck and the other aimed low, toward the legs.


    Even from twenty feet away, the ringing of metal on metal was clear as the blades pierced the man¡¯s flesh, stopping only when they found the more durable chest plate the man wore on his back.


    A streak of blood splatter shot onto the ground before the body, now lifeless, crumpled to the ground.


    The three remaining guards moved aside as the group covered the distance, running through the gates with renewed speed.


    Asterion couldn¡¯t help but look at the body as he passed it. The hollow eyes of the dead man were frightening, with surprise frozen in the creases of his face.


    It was obvious what just happened. The four guards were meant to protect the gateway, it was their duty. Honor and responsibility bound them to the task. They swore an oath to uphold the safety of the city of Hope, to enforce its laws.


    It just happened that three of them were paid to look the other way¡­ and the one that died couldn¡¯t be bought. He felt bad for the man. The only one who upheld their duties was the one punished.


    Well¡­ he thought that was what happened, at least.


    Passing the gate, one of the guards yelled to the other, chuckling.


    ¡°Where is Brandon? They have no idea where they¡¯re going!¡±


    ¡®¡­ These men are Pathfinders.¡¯


    The pathfinders seemed to possess more power than Asterion initially thought. Their influence was deep enough to integrate themselves as guards, which was a stunning realization. Aaron said the group was growing slowly, but to be so influential as to be bold enough to murder a soldier just to let eight people leave hope unabated was incredibly jarring.


    They were more than willing to kill for each other.


    Glancing back at the gate, the three soldiers began running with them, slower as they were weighed down by their armors. Asterion nearly tripped while looking back when a sudden dip in the terrain threw his vision back forward.


    The sight that was ahead was terrifying.


    In all of Asterion¡¯s life, he never thought he would see what lay outside the high walls of Hope. They were what kept him safe from the dangerous creatures that were known to inhabit the strange realm humanity had been thrust into. But¡­ the strange realm also resembled Earth, a lot.


    At least that¡¯s what the older generations have said their parents told them about outside the walls. He had never seen Earth, and there wasn¡¯t many pictures of Earth still around after three centuries. He was inclined to believe it was true though. There wasn¡¯t really reason to lie.


    So, after nothing but Hope¡¯s stone grey color and its various tone forms covering most surfaces, such as walkways and foundational buildings, he was totally unprepared to witness the dreadful wild landscape. It was unlike anything he had ever seen.


    Lit only by the dim radiance of the full moon and its cocophany of stars set in the black sky, the horizon was¡­ clearly not flat. It was very difficult to see the land¡¯s distant physical features, since everything was various shades of gray, but it was apparent that the shaded horizon rose and dipped against the pitch black backdrop.


    ¡®Is that¡­ a mountain?¡¯ Asterion¡¯s mind wandered.


    The landscape he was focusing on was so distant as to be unimaginable. Hope was large, taking hours to reach its other end by foot, but even in the dark he could see that reaching the footholds of the rising ground would put the size of Hope to shame.


    ¡®Is this how big the world is?¡¯ He thought, more seriously.


    It felt as if his own mind could not comprehend the size of the world he had lived in all this time.


    The others were surprised, too. Their rushed escape slowing to admire the sight before them. Just as the group ahead stopped completely, Asterion was already still.


    ¡®Wow.¡¯


    Below his feet, were three massive stepped stairs that led up to the short platform where the gate was.   The ground beyond was, of course, colorless in the dark. Closer, pieces of ground rose and fell like smaller mountains, forming what he thought may have been ¡®dunes¡¯, and obscuring what was behind them. What surprised Asterion most, though, was that he could make out in the moonlight a shade of green. In fact, most of the land was covered in it.


    It was¡­ massive.


    It was¡­ beautiful.


    It was¡­ terrifying.


    There was no place he had easy line of sight, hidden by the small dunes, and hindered by the darkness of night. There could be anything behind them, or even something in front of them that he just didn¡¯t notice yet.


    ¡®Beasts inhabit the wilderness.¡¯ He thought, fearfully.


    The three guards ran past the recruits, yelling to continue moving.


    ¡°We aren¡¯t far enough yet. Your commander should be ahead!¡±


    It seemed Bellarus and the others made it through.


    The journey afterward was both calmer and infinitely more harrowing. There was no more full sprinting, but they continued on with a faster than walking pace, moving with purpose. Fear plagued the group. It was the first time being outside the safety of the walls for everyone.


    In the end, nothing happened. Their journey continued unimpeded, finding Bellarus and the others around a small fire they set up when his group was taking too long.


    Brandon even showed up, a little while later, somehow even more grumpy than usual. Shocked surprise littered everyone¡¯s faces except Bellarus and the three soldiers when he appeared out of the shadows with a sword in hand. He didnt speak to anyone, only giving a strange tired expression to Bellarus and facing the fire. The man was drenched in blood, wiping it off his blade with a cloth, clearly having fought a devastating battle along the way, since it didn¡¯t look to Asterion to be his own.


    ¡®More than one murder, just to get us out.¡¯ The sick thought dwelled in Asterion¡¯s mind, festering.


    Bellarus glanced at him momentarily, but said nothing before turning away. Then, he spoke to the group as the campfire¡¯s flames flickered.


    ¡°You all did good. We¡¯re far out enough that they won¡¯t follow us. Now, I know this has been hard, and that many of you are scared.¡± He paused, ¡°The journey ahead will be perilous, but for now we need to find proper shelter. I know of a ruins not far from here. We will sleep there till morning.¡±


    With that, the group ¡ª now much larger, set out guided by Bellarus.


    Along the journey, Asterion kept a watchful eye out for any slight movements or subtle noises from the shadows. It wasn¡¯t as bad as when they were sneaking through Hope, but it was present. He was much more at ease with the fuller company, since now five of the group had weapons ¡ª six if you assume Bellarus. But another thought was intruding upon his mind at the moment.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.¡®Ah¡­ this is exhausting.¡¯


    Walking the slopes and hills of the wilds, complete with the sandier dirt was much more strenuous than the hard paths of the city streets he was used to.


    Still, all was not bad. He was now a Pathfinder now. He would get used to it. He would learn to thrive, even. It wasn¡¯t the worst it could be.


    ¡®I could be getting mauled right now.¡¯ He grinned, a sadistic smirk etching into his face.


    Dark humor was the best way to help cope with harsh realities¡­


    It wasn¡¯t very long before they reached Bellarus¡¯s destination. Overcoming a small hill, the group stopped and looked down at a ruined building.


    ¡®It almost looks like a church?¡¯


    Asterion knew churches well. Religion was one thing that had survived the great exodus of Earth. Asterion had never been a religious person, but he appreciated the good they did. They had helped feed him over the years, after all.


    Granted, this one was a bit deteriorated and missing a good chunk of its potholed roof, from the looks of it. The walls looked pained and worn out compared to the pristine structures in Hope, but it held the same characteristics of most.


    Its walls defined its shape, forming a more elongated building, like a ¡®T¡¯, with a sloped roof. The building sat at two to three floors tall, with its arching windows above the empty doorway, and  stretching across the side of the entire wall before hitting the buildings intersection. Unfortunately, those windows ¡ª most of them at least, lay in remnants scattered across the floor of the small platform that surrounded the once opulent structure.


    The ruins were built of bricks, but using a stone he had never seen before. It wasn¡¯t the mystical and durable stone that Hope was built of ¡ª it would be unblemished if it was ¡ª but that of a brownish-red variety.


    Still, the sinking lean the structure imposed to the side spoke to its heritage. It was damaged. It¡¯s roof was heavily potholed with a large chunk visibly gone. It was ruined.


    Bellarus was the first to walk onto the platform, followed by the other armed people, with Asterion and the rest just behind. The door lay broken in splinters on the ground near the doorway.


    Asterion looked at the shattered remnants.


    ¡®Uh¡­ what did that?¡¯


    Bellarus stopped in the doorway, silence enveloping the group as everyone looked at the same door. Then, a knocking noise emitted from the ground.


    Bellarus started stomping the wooden debris.


    Asterion¡¯s heart dropped at the sudden noise within the eerie silence, but nothing happened. The silence remained.


    ¡°Seems to be empty.¡± Bellarus said.


    With that, the group moved inside. The inside was no less deteriorated from the outside. The moonlight reached the deepest parts of the long gathering hall, entering through the empty windows. The whole place was covered in useless debris.


    Asterion noticed a small detail on one of the pieces of debris. On a piece of wooden furniture, too damaged to tell what it was ¡ª a bench, maybe, was what vaguely looked like scratch marks.


    It looked like something intentionally broke the furniture in some harrowing battle, scratching the wood in the process. It was a little obvious, in his head since the place was obliterated, and time usually wasn¡¯t so literally destructive.


    Alas, the place was empty. Bellarus and Brandon had done a quick sweep of the structure, ensuring its emptiness before returning back to the group. With open air entering through the broken windows and door, they started a fire inside the stone bricked structure.


    Gathering twenty people around a fire is tuff, but everyone made sure to give the fire enough space to breath while feeling its radiating warmth. Asterion had sat down on the cold floor, feeling more exhausted than ever. His frail body had endured a lot in the last couple hours and now he was paying for it.


    ¡®Ah. That hurts.¡¯


    The feeling seemed mutual around the fire. The night was now early morning, and nobody wanted to fall asleep at the wrong time, lest they need to be awake. One of the guards spoke, his words a shining light in the literal darkness around them.


    ¡°You guys can rest. We will take first watch.¡± He said, pointing to himself and the other two of the guards.


    So, most chose to take that opportunity and run with it. Figuratively, of course ¡ª they had no more energy to actually run.


    Asterion, had a bit to think about, choosing to settle his mind instead. Looking around, most had fallen asleep already, their bodies strewn across the floor of the long room in their makeshift beds consisting of whatever they could find that was soft, or just cleared debris to make it not too uncomfortable.


    Looking back at the fire, he refocused on what he wanted to reflect about, something that had been on his mind for a bit now.


    ¡®I just watched someone get murdered¡­¡¯


    The thought was¡­ unsettling. He knew death, it was inevitable. He knew of people he thought deserved to die. Or at least hoped they did.


    But it was a whole different thing to be part of it.


    ¡®He was just doing his job¡­¡¯ he thought, sorrowful.


    He imagined what the man¡¯s family would have been like after they learned of their¡­


    He cut off the thought. A tear began to form in his eye, anger fighting against his morals.


    He understood the man didn¡¯t deserve to die. He was just doing his job, protecting the city from what lay beyond the walls. A noble profession... actually.


    What weighed even heavier on his mind than watching his death¡­ than imagining his families reaction to their loss, was imagining the man¡¯s thoughts, instead.


    It was dark, but Asterion knew the man must have trusted the very people who cut him down like an animal¡­ the surprise to the gate opening, and his sudden turnaround was proof of it.


    He trusted them to have his back, like he had theirs. Instead, they used his trust to push a blade through him.


    Asterion sighed heavily, fighting his emotions. He tried to rationalize the act. That the poor man¡¯s death bought his own freedom, along with the freedom of everyone present¡­ but it didn¡¯t wipe away the stain of the act.


    ¡°Stop. It won¡¯t help thinking about it.¡± An audible whisper resounded across the campfire.


    It was Bellarus. Apparently he was awake, as well.


    Asterion couldn¡¯t help but scoff, ¡°And what? Forget that a man had to die for us to, what, sleep in these eerie ruins? What mission is so important that lives don¡¯t matter?¡±


    Silence.


    He let out a sigh. There was no point in picking a fight, he told himself.


    Then, Bellarus responded. ¡°The mission of the pathfinders is to secure a path for a greater humanity. Our methods may sometimes be harsh and unsettling, but in the end¡­ people benefit. Tell yourself that now, because when it¡¯s time you need to wield the blade that cuts down someone, you can¡¯t hesitate, or you fail everybody.¡±


    He stopped, gathering his waned breath.


    ¡°That man died because of what he fought for, not who he was. He wasn¡¯t there when my group crossed through, and he wasn¡¯t meant to be there at all. We have planned this for a while now. We planned around having to do that. Unfortunately, he wasn¡¯t receptive to the suggestions to leave and continue his patrol. He was noble, sure. He was a good soldier.¡±


    He paused again, this time conteplating, before continuing.


    ¡°But he got in the way, and became a problem. You¡¯re lucky those three out there on watch were there, because the consequences of being caught would be bad. Pathfinders aren¡¯t exactly welcome in Hope as much as you think. You wouldn¡¯t be imprisoned, you would be tortured and executed.¡± He finished.


    Asterion¡¯s mood was dark, but hearing that last part was a bit shocking.


    ¡®Tortured?¡¯


    Bellarus nodded.


    ¡°We are our own government. The royal family plays nice in the light with the people, but we are a form of rebellion to them. We show people they don¡¯t have to be subjegated by them. We resist their attempts to have us join their ranks. We live outside of their control, mostly at least. Worse, for them, we accept people like you, and grow stronger as a result.¡±


    The conversation left Asterion feeling conflicted. His oath wasn¡¯t in question, he was still and forever, a pathfinder. But his morals were¡­


    That was a much harsher battle.


    The wake of inner turmoil was trecherous enough to tire one mentally. He was already physically tired enough. It all ate ate him.


    He was finally ready to sleep.


    Bellarus, obviously knowing this didn¡¯t say anything else, concealed by the flames of the campfire, their conversation left Asterion hollow.


    Shoving aside the debris that surrounded him, he made himself a makeshift rest area. It wasn¡¯t comfortable, not nearly worthy of being called even a bed. But it was better than sleeping on shards of wood and chips of stone.


    Laying there for a while, his consciousness slowly faded into a black, his eyelids mirroring the cover of night, and began giving way for a restful slumber.


    He stayed like that, in a state of limbo for an unknown length¡­


    Until he was jolted from sleep by the unmistakable sound of a distant war cry, followed by something large hitting the wall of the ruin outside, shaking the structure and shifting dust to rain down from the ceiling on everybody.

 Chapter 8: Hunting Grounds

    The loud yell and subsequent crash immediately woke everyone up.


    Asterion was unfortunately not spared, looking around confused. His heart began to race as he questioned his sanity a bit of whether what just occurred actually happened or not. The dream state he was in was wearing off quickly, bringing his mind up to speed. If it weren¡¯t for the confusion that permeating through everyone present, he may not have believed it was real.


    ¡®Wha¡­ is it vengeance from Hope?¡¯


    The thought of tracking them down in retaliation for killing a person would not be unreasonable, after all.


    He pushed himself up to a kneeling position, ready to run at the first sight of danger, should there be any. Naturally, he looked to the most experienced people he knew for guidance on what to do.


    Bellarus and Brandon were in the same state he was, their sluggish demeanor fading into a ready state as Brandon drew his sheathed sword. Bellarus seemed to just look around for a moment.


    Dust rained down on everyone once more as another loud crash reverberated through the entire structure. Another distant, unintelligible yell came from the outside.


    ¡®What was that?¡¯


    Brandon and Bellarus reacted instantly and began running toward the doorway, presumably to aid the three guards in their fight.


    Everyone began to pale as the structure groaned as if about to collapse. Instead, splinters of wood fell from the beams, clattering against the floor from good height..


    ¡®Should we run after them?¡¯


    From the pale faces that littered the room, it was a little up in the air whether or not the two men had run toward the battle, to aid and defend the three soldiers outside¡­ or to run while they had a chance to get away.


    ¡®So much for an oath, huh?¡¯


    To be fair, the second possibility was more of his own mind thinking of what he might have done, had he gone out there and it turned out to be a creature he had no chance against. He swore an oath, yes¡­ but he also liked not being bloodied viciously.


    Just as everyone got to their feet, another crash rammed into the wall, this one much softer. A cocophany of shouts from the outside permeated through the holes in the roof above, allowing the group of sixteen to hear the shouts, but not understand them.


    They sounded frantic. Too frantic to be victory shouts and too frightening for Asterion¡¯s liking¡­


    He looked to the open doorway, unable to be shut without the missing door itself. ¡®Should I just make a break for it?¡¯


    He wouldn¡¯t make it far. He had no food. He had no experience out in the wilderness of Eden. Most of all, he had no way to defend himself.


    His face fell flat, the last truth being a little harsh.


    He looked around at the other still mostly exhausted, recruits, and then toward a wooden door that sat open behind what he thought may have been a raised platform of some sorts. It had divots from intense usage in it, and the stone bricks were chipped all over, but he imagined it was used to give speeches, if this place was at all similar to churches in Hope.


    Bellarus and Brandon had already cleared everything behind the door when they first settled in the ruins, so it was at least free of any beasts.


    ¡®Well what do we do then¡­ hide?¡¯


    Just as he thought that, Bellarus ¡ª now carrying a sword somehow ¡ª Brandon, and a guard came barreling through the door, shouting.


    ¡°Get up and move deeper in the ruin! Don¡¯t look back!¡± Brandon bellowed, his imposing voice losing its rough distinction for a split second.


    He didn¡¯t have to tell Asterion twice. Even before he said ¡®move¡¯, Asterion was already running toward the raised platform.


    As he ran, an inhuman shriek echoed through the long hall from the open doorway, sending chills down his spine. He didn¡¯t dare look back, too focused on getting to a safer place¡­ heavens forbid whatever made the five men armed with swords retreat got to him, instead.


    His mind was entirely focused on getting through the door, and only then would he look back at their aggressor. The sentiment wasn¡¯t shared equally, though. In front of him, he saw a couple of the others running take a glance back¡­ and then slow¡­ before coming to a full stop.


    ¡®Why are you stopping, fools!¡¯


    Something in his very core warned him not to look, too focused on getting behind the door and to wait out whatever abomination had just entered the ruins.


    Then¡­ after a short glance, his heart dropped.


    As he ran past the two who looked over their shoulders at the entryway, he saw something in their eyes and on their face.


    Fear.


    True fear unlike any he had seen before. It was plastered on them in a tense expression covering their face. If that wasn¡¯t bad enough, the next thing he noticed made his heart drop lower.


    ¡®Their eyes¡­ are grey?¡¯


    He hadn¡¯t noticed their eye color before, but he was sure the coloring of them was definitely not normal. Their pupils were large and dialated, their iris a dull dirty grey color. Both were now facing the opposite direction, standing tensed and still.


    As he passed in a rush, all he heard over the adrenaline now ringing in his ears were heavy breaths being released from the two men before they collapsed to the ground.


    ¡®Oh¡­¡¯ was the only thought he could come up with after witnessing that terrifying display.


    Only moments later he reached the wooden door that sat on the stage, leading deeper into the ruins. Everyone else did too¡­ except for the two who looked back. Closing the door behind the last recruit running, everyone made quick work of the surrounding debris, fashioning anything heavy looking into a brace against the door.


    ¡®And two of the guards, it seems¡­¡¯ he thoughtfearfully, as he helped push what probably was a table fashioned from stone toward the door.


    After the table was against the door and securely bracing it, everyone present took a shallow breath.


    The creature had taken the lives of four people in the span of a few minutes. It was a horrifying fact. The walls of Hope protected humanity from the beasts like this one that roamed the wilderness.


    It was why the pathfinders were so looked up to¡­ they survived these beasts every day, braving their ferocity. They were strong.


    However, Asterion didn¡¯t feel very brave at the moment. He didn¡¯t feel very strong, either. He felt entirely the opposite, in fact.


    He felt hopeless.


    With the door secure, Asterion and the rest found themselves standing in a small dark hallway that protruded to the sides, giving way for a few more rooms along one wall, along with some stairs at the end of either side, leading up to the second floor.


    Nobody moved to leave, though. Everyone stood, staring at one another just in front of the door, each with their own complicated expression trying to comprehend what had just transpired. The room was tense. The silence was enough to hear a pin drop.


    ¡­Which was unfortunate, because on the other side of the door, it was obvious that whatever creature entered the ruins to prey on them was approaching the door quickly, its footsteps vibrating the floor of hard bricks as it got closer. Everyone¡¯s eyes widened, and the men who faced the beast outside launched themselves at the door, bracing it even further with their bodies.


    The door rattled once, the wood groaning in pain as the horrifying beast attempted to push on it to open it for a moment. When that failed, it tried again, this time much harder, slamming on the other side of the door once, trying to break it down, instead.


    The door held firm, barely holding on to the hinges due to the braces put in place to stop it from budging. The creature made a slow, eerie groan, obviously upset it couldn¡¯t get to its prey, before deciding to give attention to those it had caught, instead. It began moving away¡­


    ¡®Wha¡­¡¯ Asterion¡¯s eyes widened further with his mouth agape realizing what he was hearing.


    Everyone stood in a semi circle staring at the people bracing the door with shocked faces, listening to the vividly clear, nauseating, horrific noise of the creature beginning to feast on the two bodies left behind in the hall. The three simply looked back, not saying a word.


    An awkward pause between the two groups began¡­ only to be separated by Peter and a couple others vomitting, their adrenaline presumably wearing thin.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Bellarus humorlessly laughed, earning a dirty look from Brandon.


    ¡°This is a great opportunity to introduce you all to the creatures that roam out here. Most are like the one on the other side of this door. Granted, this one¡¯s a bit fiercer than the average¡­¡± he said, still chuckling.


    ¡®He¡¯s making jokes in a time like this?!¡¯


    ¡°But we will be fine, give it some time and it will go away.¡±


    Asterion could not help but interject.


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®we will be fine¡¯? Four people just died!¡±


    Brandon was the one who responded, instead.


    ¡°Yes, and their deaths bought our freedom. It will leave after it¡¯s had its fill. It¡¯s a dangerous world out here.¡±


    The guard to his left nodded slowly, seemingly favoring one side of his body in a slight lean.


    ¡°The abomination is intelligent. Darell didn¡¯t even see what was coming before it ripped into him¡­ it pierced him like a puppet and used him as a meat shield against us.¡± he added, sadness and anger in every word.


    That prompted the tension to grow even thicker.


    ¡®Intelligent? This horrifying creature is intelligent?¡¯


    His own voice in his mind magically answered his question.


    ¡®Yeah. Unfortunately we ran into its hunting grounds, we have to wait for it to fill up, and then we¡¯re out of here. Don¡¯t worry, we will be fine.¡¯


    ¡®Get out of my head!¡¯ Asterion thought, prompting Bellarus to chuckle once more.


    With that, he voiced his more precedent thoughts aloud.


    ¡°Why did the two recruits who looked back collapse? It was like they just died from fear?¡±


    The guard looked at him with a disgusted expression.


    ¡°Did they? How about you take a look at the beast and see how it turns out. Maybe you can do something about our situation.¡± He said sarcastically, before getting off the door and walking down the dark hall, towards the stairs to the second floor. He mumbled something under his breath as he passed everyone.


    ¡®What was that about?¡¯


    Bellarus eased off the door as well to ease the tension left in his wake.


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot of dangerous creatures out here, Asterion. Most have no unique properties, aside from their shape and abominable strength. But some ¡ª and rarely, are more dangerous than the rest because they have intelligence and abilities that shouldn¡¯t be possible¡­ much like us.¡± He said nonchalantly.


    He continued again.


    ¡°Starlit are the best weapon against these creatures because we can combat their terrible powers with our constellations. Granted, I am not quite the best starlit to have in combat against these beasts, since my constellation doesn¡¯t give me any combat ability aside from projections. Alfred was not mad at you, believe me. He¡¯s more upset at me because I couldn¡¯t do more. Anyways the place is clear, make yourselves at home while we wait. Brandon will stay here and watch the door.¡± He said, glancing at Brandon, who only grunted, before walking away.


    With that, people dispersed, forming their own small groups and heading to explore different parts of the ruins. Asterion was no different, somehow finding himself in the company of Aaron, Peter, and Daren once more.


    Peter, now a little paler than before and much less boistrous turned to Asterion.


    ¡°Did you get a look at the creature?¡±


    Asterion glanced at him while walking down the long hallway.


    ¡°Do I look dead? Apparently looking at it kills you!¡± He exasperated.


    Peter laughed shortly, but the laugh didn¡¯t quite match the look in his eyes.


    ¡°Just trying to make conversation¡­¡± he said solemnly.


    The four of them wandered around for a bit, exploring the ancient structure for something to pass the time. There wasn¡¯t much to see¡­ it was really dark. All the rooms adjacent to the hallway were very similar, too. There was no telling to how long it will take for the beast to leave, and how long after that they would even attempt to flee, should the creature remain in the area.


    Asterion¡¯s stomach growled.


    ¡®When did we eat last?¡¯


    ¡°Yeah, me too¡­ but I¡¯ve lost my appetite after hearing that¡­ thing¡­ eat. I spoke to one of them once¡­¡± Daren said, referring to a fallen recruit and his stomach¡¯s complaint.


    Asterion didn¡¯t feel like eating, too. He was hungry, as was everyone, but his own appetite was suppressed. Come to think of it¡­ since they left, they seemed to be woefully unprepared to brave the wilderness.


    ¡®Ah¡­ I hope this isn¡¯t a recurring thing. That bastard promised food and shelter!¡¯


    He looked above him at the cracked ceiling of the hallway.


    ¡®Not exactly what I had in mind.¡¯


    Either way, everyone was stuck for the time being. There were no windows, so it was quite dark. The hallway extended in either direction to a set of stairs leading up to the second floor. The ones on the left were broken and resembled a pile of debris more than stairs. It was entirely unusable. The right staircase was usable, but from the aching of the old wood even when left alone, it was also rather sketchy.


    Most preferred to follow Bellarus into one of the rooms, gathering into the largest one that fit into the wall opposite to the large gathering hall. Some chose otherwise, opting in their respective smaller groups like Asterion¡¯s, to decide to head to a different room and enjoy some privacy from the large congregate.


    Pushing a creaky wooden door open, Asterion stood momentarily in the doorway, waiting for something to jump out at him. He knew the place was already cleared by the others, but it felt better to allow himself a moment to calm his nerves before entering an unknown space.


    The room was small, clearly some kind of chamber from the few pieces of furniture left behind by its inhabitants. A desk, small bed, and a dresser were strewn around the room disorderly, all fashioned crudely out of wood and metal. Everything was covered in dust, making it rather hard to breath when Asterion opened the door, wafting some of it into the air.


    ¡®These people left in a hurry, didn¡¯t they?¡¯ He asked himself.


    There was a small candle attached to the wall, its small wick exposed and evidently used a long time ago and left to run its course and disintegrate, from the wax that ran down the wall.


    ¡°Hey, Peter, can you go to the others and see if Bellarus made another fire yet? If we light this, it will make this waiting a lot easier.¡± Asterion asked, moving to sit at the head of the bed that sat diagnally in the middle of the room.


    ¡°Sure thing.¡± He replied, leaving the room.


    Daren moved and joined him on the bed, sitting at the foot, and weighing down the soft dirty cot. Aaron seemed to prefer to stand, instead.


    Asterion sighed as a peaceful silence enveloped the three of them in the darkness. Aaron had remained quiet throughoutthe whole ordeal, so quiet that Asterion was beginning to wonder about him.


    ¡°You okay?¡±


    Aaron¡¯s dark silhouette shifted to face him.


    ¡°Me? Yeah, just not what I imagined for the Pathfinders. I thought we would be rebelling against the capital, or fighting some harrowing creature and winning¡­ not running from them. It was kind of my reason for joining.¡±


    His tone indicated he was a bit disappointed and fearful.


    ¡°If that¡¯s what you¡¯re searching for, your goals are out there with that abomination, go fight it! Be my guest! Go get em¡¯ tiger!¡± Daren said, laughing.


    Asterion didn¡¯t know what a tiger was, but he imagined it was some kind of brave creature, to have such an odd saying. From the confused look of Aaron¡¯s silhouette, he didn¡¯t know either.


    ¡°Everyone joined for different reasons, but fighting that creature out there was not one of mine.¡± Asterion added, laughing too.


    Aaron scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant.¡±


    Eventually, Peter returned with a small piece of wood disintegrating from one end as a small ember¡¯s dying breath was consuming it for fuel to stay alive. He lit the small exposed wick, and a more lively ember was born, exposing the room to light. Asterion looked around, reexamining the room once his eyes adjusted to the new brightness.


    ¡®Hm. It¡¯s actually nice in here¡¯ he thought.


    The place was disgustingly dusty and disordered, but it was also quaint and homely. He hadn¡¯t had a stable home for a few years now, so something like this was an upgrade in his eyes.


    From the look on Aaron¡¯s face, he didn¡¯t agree.


    Curiousity slowly got the better of Asterion, before he bit the bullet and finally asked.


    ¡°Hey, Aaron. Why join the pathfinders for those reasons? It seems kind of¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ flamboyant? Did you have a bad life in Hope?¡±


    Aaron looked at him, visibly amused, shrugging his shoulders, he spoke casually.


    ¡°Not really. My father actually works high up in the government¡­ so I wasn¡¯t poor if that¡¯s what your asking me. From that, I know a bit more about the workings of the government compared to most, and what I learned makes me sick¡­ so here I am.¡±


    His response was odd to say the least. At least to Asterion. Why would a person want to join a rebellion when they had a cushy life? Morals were hard to avoid, but in the face of harrowing danger, the answer seemed quite easy to him.


    He turned to Peter, ¡°And you?¡±


    Peter pursed his lips.


    ¡°Stole something valuable from someone dangerous, got away but they know I was the one who took it¡­¡± he said shortly.


    Asterion looked Peter up and down¡­


    ¡®This fool has nothing valuable on him. What could he have taken?¡¯


    He wasn¡¯t going to push, though. Peter seemed uninterested in explaining his reason more thouroughly.


    He turned to Daren, raising an eyebrow. Noticing this, he laid back against the wall, as if reminiscing, then sighed.


    ¡°Accidentally murdered someone, they just haven¡¯t found the body yet.¡±


    Everyone looked at him with surprised expressions. After a few seconds of tense silence, he laughed again.


    ¡°Just kidding¡­ I just wanted to see what was outside of Hope. The pathfinders seemed like the best way to do that. I will say¡­ now that I have, it sucks I swore an oath because this is a literal hell.¡±


    ¡®can¡¯t find argument in that...¡¯ he thought.


    Aaron looked back at Asterion, clearly expecting him to give his own answer. He thought for a moment, deciding how to answer. He had a reason, a multitude of them, even. But the core of his honest answer was that he was tricked, and didn¡¯t really want to admit that¡­


    ¡°Oh you know, poverty and poor luck.¡± He said softly.


    Daren chuckled, smiling.


    ¡°If only we fought as hard as you did when you woke up to not join the pathfinders, we wouldn¡¯t be here.¡±


    Asterion¡¯s face fell flat.


    ¡®Oh great¡­ you remember that. I remember how I woke up too.¡¯ he thought, looking at Peter with a grimace.


    Just as he opened his mouth to speak on the past transgression, a loud echo emanated from the hall outside, cutting him off.


    Everyone looked up.


    ¡°Did anyone hear that?¡± He said.


    ¡°I think so?¡± Peter replied.


    Getting up, everyone moved toward the door and into the hallway, looking both directions for the source of the noise. The shadows of the hallway assaulted the dying candle on the wall of the room, but only succeeded in creating a veil of impenetrable darkness around the doorway to Asterion.


    Further down the hall, Bellarus seemed to be stepping out of his room, as well, seeking out reason for the noise. The larger campfire creating a white glow against his back and the opposite wall of the hallway. He glanced at Brandon, who¡¯s shadowy silhouette in the shadows only shook his head.


    With that, Bellarus exited the room and outstretched an arm.


    Within his outstretched hand, a faint shimmering light began in his palm. Slowly, a dim glow fought against the darkness and winning its contest of dominance. A few seconds later, that glow strengthened, becoming even more radiant and aggressive. A moment after that, it flashed one last time, taking a complicated shape and blinding Asterion momentarily due to how dark it was around the bright light.


    Bellarus walked past Asterion quickly and ignoring him, now wielding a sword made of some kind of silver metal. He couldn¡¯t tell what the metal was, and he was no blacksmith, but from its shiny polish it looked extremely expensive.


    ¡®Woah.¡¯


    He had never seen a real starlight projection, but the description of their summoning was spot on from the books he read. Though, their descriptions did nothing to spare him from the awe that a magically manifested item could endow on someone as mundane as himself.


    Bellarus moved up the stairs carefully, disappearing up to the second floor. After he passed, the others in the room moved back inside now that someone went to go check on the strange noise, trusting Bellarus to keep them safe.


    Asterion on the other hand, could not keep himself in the dark of what the sound was. He couldn¡¯t keep the thought out of his mind that it almost sounded like someone yelled.


    Giving the others a look, Asterion decided it was worth it to follow, and moved into the hallway to follow him up the stairs.


    It wasn¡¯t long before he made it all the way up and into another long hallway, resembling the one downstairs. Bellarus seemed to be standing just at the top of the stairs, looking down at the floorunmoving. His hand was tensed around the grip of his sword¡¯s handle.


    Asterion moved around Bellarus to see what he was looking at.


    ¡®Alfred¡­¡¯ his eyes widened, a shocked gasp leaving his lungs as he tried to comprehend what he was looking at.


    He backstepped, nearly falling down the stairs¡­

 Chapter 9: The Leftovers

    Asterion steadied himself with the wall so that he wouldn¡¯t plunge down the stairs at the dreadful scene in front of him.


    An unsurpassable lump was emerging in the depths of his throat, forcing him to hold back the tide of a mounting gag.


    ¡®That¡¯s horrifying.¡¯


    Bellarus, who was standing just in front of him, turned his head slightly, acknowledging his presence, and then dismissed the sharp projection, allowing it to turn into radiant light once more.


    He expected him to have something to say about the horrifying scene, but instead, he just sighed, a forlorn smile playing against his lips, and moved next to Alfred, kneeling beside him.


    Well¡­ what was left of him, anyway.


    The guard who helped Asterion escape, Alfred, was almost unrecognizable as he lay sprawled on the floor. Fresh red blood played through his glazed eyes in the form of false tears, still actively flowing down to the stone below. More blood covered his chin, painting a cruel smile on his face as he lay facing up.


    It was undeniable he was dead, however.


    The corpse¡¯s complexion was a sickly contrast of pale white skin and grey veins exposed around his dented plate armor, reaching up into his neck. Puddles of red formed around the man¡¯s exposed forearms, slowly draining the corpse of its lifeblood.


    One of his wrists was mangled, bearing obvious bite wounds. His other, more recognizable wrist ¡ª his left ¡ª was vertically cut by some sharp object from his elbow to his fingers.


    Asterion moved his eyes to the right of the corpse, to the crimson-soaked sword that lay forlorn next to it.


    Asterion didn¡¯t need to know what happened. It was obvious¡­ it was sickening.


    Bellarus held a hand over his face, closing his eyes, and reaching to grab the pommel of the short sword, before weakly tossing it at Asterion¡¯s feet.


    ¡°Take it, it¡¯s yours now.¡± He said flatly.


    It bounced heavily on the stone before it came to a stop, looking solid.


    Asterion had no intention of touching the blade, however. He was more focused on the corpse.


    ¡°W-why?¡±


    Bellarus looked down at the body for a moment.


    Looking back to meet Asterion¡¯s gaze he opened his mouth,


    ¡°He gave it his all. Do not blame him for his choice to do this. We may have gotten away from that abomination, but some things aren¡¯t easy to defend against¡­¡±


    He faltered, then continued.


    ¡°Like I said before¡­ some of them possess inhuman abilities like us. He was strong, and he faced the beast with equal bravery as the two who perished in its ambush outside of the ruins¡­ however, he was also a victim to the beast¡¯s abominable power in the process, and it followed him inside¡­ he was perfectly mundane. He didn¡¯t stand a chance.¡± He finished.


    Asterion, forgetting to breathe, just blinked. If the beasts out here are so deadly, what chance did he have? What chance did any of them have?


    ¡°How did Brandon survive, then?¡±


    Bellarus, still looking at him indifferently, shrugged his shoulders and answered.


    ¡°It affects everyone differently.¡± He sighed, ¡°Perhaps he just has more mental resilience.¡±


    Then, he got up, taking Alfred¡¯s sword sheath off his belt before reaching for the sword, too. Moving toward Asterion, he offered him them in each hand. He took the items, their combined weight dropping his body lower as he suffered their gravity.


    He didn¡¯t let the struggle show on his face, though.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, I have to notify the others and figure out what we are going to do now that we are down three experienced men for the rest of the journey.¡±


    With that, he brushed past Asterion, walking back down the sketchy stairs with a hardened expression. Left in the mournful company of the body, Asterion gave it one last look before putting the bloody blade back in its sheath and turning back, following him down slowly. He wanted to take his time and process reality.


    Life was cruel. He knew. The window he was looking out of was simply a different shade of glass.


    He sighed.


    ¡®Rest in peace¡­¡¯


    Burial was not given to people in Hope. There was no easy ground to dig a hole, much less pierce the stone to make one. That said, leaving a body to rot drew a bad feeling in Asterion. Typically, bodies were cremated, with only the wealthy having the ability to own a tomb space where they could put them in a sudo burial, instead.


    But¡­ like the ones left in the gathering hall of the ruin and outside for the beast to feast on, this one would only be a drain on resources if they tried to make a fire hot enough to do any real cremating, not that they would succeed even if they tried. It would likely stay there until it drew the ire of some wandering scavenger.


    When Asterion made it back down, he noticed that Aaron, Peter, and Daren had moved out of the bedroom and into the more spacious neighboring room Bellarus was hosting just in case anything happened during the investigation.


    Passing Brandon with a short nod, he entered the room. The atmosphere was rather tense and somber ¡ª presumably due to Bellarus explaining what had happened. It was never good to hear of another person¡¯s death, but it was worse than that to hear that the person died to protect you. The best everyone could do was mourn his fate, and grieve in silence.


    They did it out of basic respect, Asterion suspected. Nobody knew the man that well, after all. They had only just met recently. He moved toward the group, hauling the heavy blade on his waste in its scabbard.


    The campfire in the center, fueled by the now broken wooden furniture, cast deep shadows against the wall, each flickering in tandem with the chaos of its flames.


    Looking around, Asterion counted everyone that remained.


    ¡®One, two, three, four¡­¡¯


    ¡®¡­sixteen.¡¯ he finished counting.


    Including himself, along with Bellarus and Brandon¡ª who was still in the hallway, sixteen people remained of the twenty-one who left Hope together. The thought was horrifying. Never in his life was death too close and rampant. It was in the same building, plaguing everyone¡¯s similar thoughts. What was more jarring was that now, only two of sixteen posed any real resistance to an attack¡­


    He looked at his sword¡¯s bloody handle, frowning.


    A stomach growled somewhere, distracting him. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was his own¡­


    ¡®It¡¯s going to be a long night¡­¡¯ he sighed.


    Clearing another place to sleep, Asterion set his head down and turned away from the fire, using his arms as pillows, before closing his eyes so that he could fall asleep before the hunger stopped him from being able to¡­


    ***


    Asterion woke with a startled gasp and rapid breathing. He examined his surroundings for anything immediately out of the ordinary hastily. The spacious room was left dimmer as the fire¡¯s fuel was nearly exhausted, leaving the flames to a bitter slow, and silent death. It crackled now and then, shooting fiery sparks into the air.


    The wonderful dream he experienced during his sleep was fading, too¡­


    or maybe it was a nightmare?


    He had already forgotten, moving up to his elbows.


    Looking around, nothing was amiss. People were strewn about the floor of the room in different contortions sleeping, some sitting against the wall, and others laying on the cold stone, using what clothing they had on them to separate their skin from making bare contact. It was impossible to tell what time it was in the isolated room, but from his internal clock, he felt completely rested.


    It seemed he was the only one awake, too.


    The wooden door of the room¡ªand the only exit¡ªwas ajar and led into the pitch-black hallway, where Brandon was supposed to still be keeping watch for everyone, ensuring nothing could break down their makeshift fortifications while they slept. He did a quick scan of the sleepers, counting fourteen others, and noting he wasn¡¯t in the room, so Asterion assumed he would still be in the hall.


    His breathing slowed down, relaxing.


    Confused and unable to pinpoint why he woke up so afraid, he was left to only assume he was okay.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡®There¡¯s nothing.¡¯ He took a deep breath and exhaled.


    Well¡­ he knew that wasn¡¯t exactly true. He was stuck with fifteen people in the middle of a ruin somewhere in Eden¡­ in the aftermath of a deadly encounter with a horrifying creature¡­. and he was starving¡­which he had no idea how to get for himself.


    Still, he wasn¡¯t in immediate danger.


    Chalking it up to a nightmare he couldn¡¯t remember, he pushed himself up from his elbows to his feet, careful not to wake the people around him.


    As he stood, he decided to throw some more debris into the fire to give it more life. Quietly moving from his spot to a pile of debris, he heard a voice from the hall outside. It sounded vaguely distorted and unintelligible, and hard to hear over the snoring of the people around him. Even when straining his ears, he couldn¡¯t understand what it was saying at all.


    ¡®Must be Brandon talking to himself. Dude has to be bored.¡¯


    Asterion imagined that staying awake was hard, but doing it all alone in the dark would be nearly impossible to do if he had to do it himself. That was an admirable trait about him, he believed. He was one of the toughest people he had ever met.


    He grimaced.


    The thought was not appealing, considering he very well may have to, eventually at least. He was a pathfinder now. If Alfred¡¯s death was to teach him anything, it was that weakness was death out here, and that went for both physical and mental weakness.


    Tossing a few pieces of broken wood gently into the fire, he watched as the fire eagerly consumed it and regrew its hungry fervor. Once its flames grew enough to be okay left alone for another hour, he turned his attention toward the hallway, to where the noise was still resounding from.


    Walking to the sound of the voice, he approached the slightly opened door and pulled it open some more, letting a casting glow from the room¡¯s fire assault the darkness of the hallway.


    He looked at Brandon, whose tall standing figure leaned back against the stone table-turned-brace on the door just across from him. One hand rested on his sword pommel, while the other strapped his chest¡¯s armor plate, grasping its upper edge near his neck. His head was dipped down, hiding most of his features. He made no obvious movements to acknowledge Asterion¡¯s arrival.


    He was asleep.


    ¡®Huh?¡¯ Asterion thought, immediately perplexed.


    Asterion¡¯s hand went to his own blade¡¯s grip, grasping it protectively. It was foolish since he had never practiced with a blade, and he was sure to struggle even holding it up. But it was better than nothing.


    The voice, now slightly more clear sounded like an echo of the darkness that suffocated his either side, extending into the black hallway and toward both the stairs.


    ¡®What the hell¡­?¡¯


    He was sure he counted right¡­ sixteen total recruits left Hope, including himself¡­ then there was Brandon and Bellarus, along with the three guards¡­ that was twenty-one¡­ five were now gone¡­


    He stood there, starting to think he was going crazy. Auditory hallucinations are odd enough, and he hadn¡¯t heard it being a symptom of starvation. Nor had he ever experienced it himself before from his uncountable encounters with hunger.


    Alas, the voice was still vaguely present.


    If anything, it got a little louder in his moment of confusion, from what he imagined a normal speech tone was, to a harsher and more chaotic one.


    He looked over at Brandon again and decided it was probably for the better to wake him up.


    He tapped him lightly, but firmly, as if weary to wake him too harshly.


    Nothing.


    Brandon¡¯s shallow breathing didn¡¯t change.


    ¡®He must be a deep sleeper.¡¯ He thought.


    Harder, he pushed against Brandon, avoiding his hard armor in preference for exposed flesh.


    ¡°Hey, wake up. Something¡¯s off.¡±


    Still nothing.


    He pushed harder, getting a bit worried.


    Brandon leaned to the left, eyes still closed, and crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll with its strings cut. He stayed that way, lying on the ground in an awkward position.


    The distant voice sounded a bit rushed and started drawing closer. Still unrecognizable of any meaningful speech he could understand.


    Asterion¡¯s heart started to rise.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± He muttered raggedly.


    Something was wrong. He just didn¡¯t know what it was. Sure, Brandon could be a really deep sleeper. But he just couldn¡¯t comprehend how someone could fall onto their face and not wake up.


    He made sure he was still breathing, which he was, before looking toward the source of the noise. The impenetrable darkness on either side of him echoed the sound equally, making it hard to do. But he could vaguely hear it ever so slightly louder on his right.


    It was getting louder, more clear.


    ¡®Shit.¡¯ He thought, starting to try to drag Brandon¡¯s unconscious body into the room with everyone.


    Unfortunately for him, Asterion was much smaller and did not have the strength to succeed. Hunger had plagued him for years, eating away at any real development of muscle.


    So he did the only thing he could think of doing¡­


    He moved back into the room, loudly announcing for everyone to hear.


    ¡°Guys wake up. Something''s wrong with Brandon!¡±


    Nothing. Nobody woke from his shout.


    ¡®Huh¡­? What the hell is going on!¡¯


    He failed to notice the voice draw even closer. So close, that it was vividly clear and loud. Just enough to be vaguely understandable. It sounded off, panicked, angry, and in some dialect his mind could understand, but couldn¡¯t quite grasp. He looked back to the door fearfully.


    But what was more terrifying than that, was the rising sound of beating against the hard stone floor quickly approaching.


    ¡®Footsteps¡­¡¯


    He stood, frozen in fear as whatever it was that was making the noise approached. There was nowhere to run. He was with his entire group in the room, the best he could do was close the door, trapping themselves inside.


    It was worthless though.


    Before he could gather the mental fortitude to break through his fearful paralysis, a glowing light was slowly carving a path through the dark hallway from his stance inside the room, passing the open doorway with rushed speed.


    The noise began to sound like angry muttering¡­


    The light, held just in front of its caretaker, shone upon an older man with a grey beard a step behind it, wearing a strange grey gown¡ª something religious, from the odd hat he had on and the golden embroidery on the apparel. In his hand was an ember trapped in a lantern, swaying as he moved with speed to the other side of the doorway. The man was facing down in front of him, as if completely oblivious to the bright light shining from the room, and ignoring Brandon, whose unconscious body was illuminated as it lay slumped just outside his footpath.


    He passed, not giving a second look to anything around him.


    Asterion, meanwhile was internally screaming. He was too frightened to do anything but stare agape at the door.


    ¡®Auditory¡­ and Visual hallucinations? Wait¡­ is this a hallucination? What counts as a hallucination? It¡¯s not real! This place must be haunted!¡¯


    He prayed it wasn¡¯t real. If it was, that would mean the strange old man entered the ruins after they closed it¡­ which would mean the beast likely did too¡­ which would mean that it isn¡¯t real because it killed everyone in their sleep.


    He paused.


    ¡®That, actually¡­ wouldn¡¯t be a bad way to go.¡¯


    If he was dead, he would have died painlessly in his sleep.


    ¡®This heaven kind of terrifying, though.¡¯ He grimaced.


    He imaged he would be taken to a place much nicer and less dusty¡­ less ruined¡­ and less horrifyingly haunted. Alas, he was rather unsure, and that meant he could still be alive.


    Which meant he also had to make sure he wouldn¡¯t die soon.


    Refocusing on the doorway, where the light from the small lantern was now fading to the usable stair side. The footsteps rang farther now, with the noise becoming more distant and less understandable.


    ¡®This is absolutely f¡ª¡¯ He thought, cutting himself off.


    Asterion moved toward the doorway and peeked out to his left, where he could see down the long hallway that the remnants of the radiant light were nearly finished ascending the stairs, making heavier footfall echo against walls.


    He laughed nervously.


    ¡®It¡¯s only a ghost¡­ it can¡¯t hurt you.¡¯


    Can it?


    He moved into the hallway, following after the old man¡¯s nearly evaporated light. It was well on the second floor, with only its dimmed reflection beaming off the stone wall that rose behind the stairway. He carefully avoided Brandon as he stepped over him to investigate the strange and alarming phenomenon.


    Making his way to the shifty stairs, he ascended just behind. The light was now gone, too far ahead to cast a strong glow against the staircase and leaving Asterion in the dark.


    As he rose above the top of the stairs and peaked to the second floor in search of the old man, all that he saw was Alfred¡¯s hazy corpse in the shadows of the lightless hall, left alone and forlorn. Distantly down the hallway and coming from one of the slightly ajar doors, the light was now casting a gleaming brightness in a door shape against the opposite wall.


    He sighed, his breath shaky. His heart rate rose a bit, somehow feeling like it was in his stomach. He looked back behind him, ensuring nothing was creeping behind.


    ¡®¡­ okay.¡¯


    At a snail''s pace, he approached the open door, carefully stepping around the pools of blood drying around the corpse¡¯s hands. The voice of the old man was becoming more and more vivid, its deformity reducing as he got closer.


    Slowly but surely, he peeked inside, revealing only a fraction of his head to anyone who may be inside.


    The old man had his back turned from Asterion as he stood at a table inside the room. His lantern was set off to the side, casting a lengthy shadow on a far wall. There was nobody else but the man in the room, but the man seemed to be mumbling something, making erratic gestures at something in front of him.


    Asterion strained his ears to hear what he was saying. It was hard, and the mumbling sounded like the man was just frustrated or crazy, only understanding every few words¡­


    That¡¯s when the man yelled out louder.


    ¡°Ah! You abandon us and yet you demand our faith?¡±


    After a moment of silence, the man looked up.


    ¡°Your people are scared. And you leave me alone to deal with them? Coward! What kind of God are you to leave us?¡±


    He sighed heavily, emotion bleeding into his shaky voice.


    ¡°I¡¯m scared, my Lord. Your light which has guided us has disappeared. The world you built is crumbling. Please, guide us out of this darkness. I¡¯m so scared¡­¡±


    The man looked to his right, toward the lantern that sat on the table, remaining quiet. His pause was long, thoughtful.


    ¡°You forsake us¡­¡± he whispered angrily, moving toward the lantern and smashing it against a wall.


    Asterion stumbled back and fell as the light of the lantern¡¯s small flame flashed and extinguished in the shattering, leaving the room dark and silent.


    Inside the darkness of the hallway, he heard the man yell again, not shouting anything in particular. The scream was intense and long, transitioning from a natural furious bellow to an eerie beastial roar.


    Then¡­ silence.


    Asterion laid wide eyes on his elbows, staring at the door''s pitch-black opening. His eyes, which were adapted to the brightness of the lantern could not adapt quickly enough to the sudden darkness.


    It lay in the doorway, acting as a curtain of pure darkness. He could see around him, albeit shadowy, it was not as dark as the curtain. But the room inside was somehow even darker.


    Then, a low exhale answered his questionable gaze inside the room, causing him to drag himself back a little.


    His blood iced. The room turned colder than he had ever experienced before.


    Emerging from the darkness, four incredibly long indexes, each tipped in short curved claws¡ªeach in strange directions¡ª grasped the upper edge of the doorframe, marking the wood in the process.


    The fingers curled, making a scratch.


    A deathly thin limb followed elsewhere, marking a joint of the horrifying creature. It uncurled, revealing another, similar hand to the first. Grabbing the other side of the doorframe, it seemed to pull itself out of the room.


    Asterion could not move, frozen by the sight before him. He wanted to move so desperately, but fear was keeping him from using his legs. He tried to drag himself back more, but only hit the other side of the hallway and its wall.


    There was no escape¡­


    A strangely humanoid head peaked through the middle of the doorway at an angle, twisting to right itself with gravity rather than from its mangled limbs. The head was horrifying, somehow a much lighter shade than its hands, obvious even in the lightless environment. Its eyes were nothing but black holes with jagged tears running down its bony cheeks like it clawed its own eyes out to the bone.


    The being was tall. It was sickly thin. It was like fear itself had manifested in reality. The being stopped suddenly, before manipulating its lengthy neck to look down on Asterion.


    A low groan reverberated from its slowly opening mouth.


    ¡®S-shit¡­¡¯ was the only thought he could come up with. He couldn¡¯t even begin to unsheathe his sword.


    The beast exploded with movement, covering the gap in the span of a second¡­ its lithe fingers were suddenly in his side, digging into his stomach. While dimmed by adrenaline, it could not hide the immeasurable pain that suddenly radiated out of his stomach as he stared at the beast, unable to look away from the frightening abomination¡¯s face as it came closer to his own.


    Fear overwhelmed the adrenaline, his heart beat out of his chest.


    The pain in his stomach got even worse¡­

 Chapter 10: Better Swordsman

    ¡®Asterion. What are you doing.¡¯


    Forcing his attention away from the beast, he forgot what he was just doing. The whole room rippled, taking him elsewhere and entrancing him in an instant¡­


    Descending the wooden steps of his childhood home with tenacious speed, he was all too happy.


    He missed a step, nearly falling in the process. That did not stop him.


    Regaining his balance as his momentum brought him farther down, he could not give himself any moment to slow down. He was just too excited.


    Father was coming home!


    Until he missed the next step¡­


    ¡°Ah!¡¯


    He extended his hands out to brace his fall, shutting his eyes as hard as he could for fear of the fall.


    ¡®This is going to hurt.¡¯


    A protective arm wrapped around his stomach, catching his momentum and stopping his freefall. It caused him a little pain, but nothing substantial.


    Feeling something was off, he tried to figure out what it was.


    ¡®Oh¡­ right.¡®


    He was lifted off the ground, another arm gently supporting his back.


    Floral fragrance wafted through the air, wrapping around him like a hug. He always loved the smell, it was a signature of his mother.


    ¡°Sweetie, how many times do I have to tell you to take your time down the stairs.¡±


    Eyes shut and held in protective arms, Asterion slowly turned his head, causing her to laugh.


    ¡°You can open your eyes now.¡±


    Gradually, he opened his eyes.


    ¡°Sorry mama. I saw Daddy from the window!¡±


    Her smile turned livelier, an eyebrow raised.


    ¡°Did you? Well, why don''t we go and greet him at the door, then?¡±


    She turned, carrying Asterion down from the small landing he was nearly victim through the living space, ending at the door.


    She set him down, allowing Asterion to churn in anticipation as the handle to the door fiddled from the other side.


    The door opened, and Asterion rushed out as soon as the gap in the door widened enough.


    ¡°Daddy!¡±


    His tiny figure rushed like a fired cannonball at the tall lanky man. He wore a black smudged brown buttoned shirt. That was okay, Asterion was used to him being dirty after his work trips.


    Blinded and darkened by the sun above him, Asterion stared up at the light-outlined silhouette of a tall broad-chested man. The brightness of his edges darkened his features, obscuring them, but Asterion was sure his father was smiling as he wrapped himself around his legs.


    Trying to lift a leg bound in his restricting embrace for a moment before giving up the fruitless endeavor, and putting a hand on his head, his father laughed, before looking toward his mama silently.


    ¡®You always try that. Stop!¡¯ Asterion shouted, his voice slightly distorting near the end.


    Warmth enveloped him as the sun was blocked out above him, his mother wrapping her arms around his father in a loving embrace, her legs caging him in.


    Life was great¡­


    ¡®Asterion! Stop!¡¯


    He didn¡¯t know how the thought found its way into his head, but it seemed¡­ foreign.


    He stared up at their tall figures confused. He couldn¡¯t place the thought¡¯s origin. There was so much panic in it to be his own.


    He thought for a moment, contemplating the panic. He just couldn''t place where it was coming from.


    Pain radiated from his stomach again, this time much harsher, breaking his train of thought.


    ¡®Ouch.¡¯


    He looked down at himself between the embrace of his parents. He was fine. The world was great, his father was finally back from work¡­


    The pain got worse.


    ¡®Ah¡­¡¯


    It kept getting worse¡­ and worse¡­ and worse.


    Reaching a new peak, higher than he had ever experienced in his life, the vision around him faded, jagged edges ripping it out of his vision like pages of a book as his sight blurred from the pain.


    His eyes shot open, before shutting to combat the bright orange light around him.


    ¡®Argh!¡¯


    The sound of heavy metal clambered and rattled on the ground nearby.


    Clutching his stomach, Asterion rolled on his side.


    ¡®Damnation¡­ why again.¡¯


    Squinting his eyes open in the fetal position, Peter kneeled next to him.


    ¡°Finally! You¡¯re awake.¡± He said.


    Behind him, Bellarus stared into his eyes unfocused for a few moments. Regaining their clarity, his brows furrowed. ¡°Deep sleeper.¡±


    Asterion shifted, groaning.


    ¡°Gah¡­ why do you do that.¡±


    He slowly moved to his feet, favoring a lean, Bellarus glanced at him strangely, before walking off. Peter, meanwhile, looked at him like he was crazy.


    ¡°Dude! We are leaving soon and you would not wake up. Also, I think you cut yourself on that sword in your sleep. Next time, put it in the sheath beforehand.¡±


    He looked down at himself, noticing a circle of dried blood circling a small tear in his already tattered shirt near his abdomen. It was small and inconsequential, but still present.


    Suddenly perplexed, he looked around for the sharp blade, finding it at his feet. Its flat triangular point was a lighter shade of red than the rest of the macabre crimson.


    ¡®Weird.¡¯


    Unsure why he unsheathed it the night before, he picked up the stained blade by its handle and slid it into the sheath on his hip.


    ¡°We leave in 5,¡± Peter said, pulling him out of his thoughts, before walking off.


    With that, Asterion was promptly ready to leave the forsaken ruins. He had had enough of them already. Ruins were objectively cool, especially considering his interest in their origin, but this one being within the creature''s territory had him rethinking his desires.


    They traveled during the day for the next week, following a route set by Bellarus and stopping to build a temporary camp before nightfall.


    The City of Hope was by that point far behind them, distorted in a colorless mirage on hotter days, and a small blob on the horizon on the colder ones.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Brandon would disappear now and then, returning with a few carcasses of small furless feline-looking creatures. It seemed they were the easy prey since it was all he ever caught.


    Asterion had seen cats before, they were one thing humanity seemingly couldn¡¯t leave behind, and there were strays roaming Hope. These creatures, however, looked like their slightly larger mutated cousins. Their most prominent feature was a muscular split tail.


    Sitting around the campfire with the sun setting, Asterion struggled to take a bite into the charred and half-eaten half of a split tail he was handed. It was his ration of that day''s hunt.


    ¡®¡®This is so gross.¡¯ He thought, looking disgusted at it.


    He brought it up to his nose, sniffing it before recoiling, giving it a worse look.


    Bringing it back to his face, he bit into the flesh. The hide was like biting wood, tasteless, stringy, and leathery. His teeth wrestled the flesh in a battle of will before they pierced the hard exterior, revealing the inside that was far too chewy for his liking.


    He looked down at the meat forlorn.


    ¡®We¡¯ve eaten this for a week. There has to be another creature around here that¡¯s edible.¡¯


    He looked up at Bellarus, who was practically inhaling his portion with shocking speed.


    ¡®How do you even do that.¡¯


    Bellarus seemed to notice his gaze as if sensing it¡ª or his thought maybe, looking up.


    ¡°What.¡± He asked with his mouth full, causing Asterion to sigh heavily and look away.


    Traversing Eden was incredibly boring at times. Asterion had to find things to do when the monotony was too much.


    Traveling as a group was much easier than traveling alone, so most of the tasks that benefited the group were usually taken by someone else already, or people doubling up on a task and overperforming what was necessary.


    It made the journey a little more comfortable. Peter and a couple of others joined Brandon on his hunts, bringing back more food as a result.


    In doing so, he learned his role as an ¡®assistant¡¯ was not as versatile as he thought it''d be, and usually meant gathering dead sticks to fuel the fire.


    Still, the group traveled, following Bellarus toward a place nobody else knew.


    When night fell, they camped in as safe of a place as they could find. When they got hungry, they ate their provisions and carried in makeshift sacks from a large yellow plant they found earlier. When a beast inevitably tracked them from their scent, Bellarus and Brandon slayed it before it could harm anyone.


    He grimaced, thinking about the guy who got his leg cut a couple of days ago.


    ¡®¡­ mostly anyone.¡¯


    In total, Asterion was pretty optimistic about how things were turning out. He was being taken care of, as he was promised. It was a nice change of pace to the last 3 years of his life.


    Finding himself at a small lake¡¯s edge and staring at the water as the morning sun rose. His reflection stared back at him, a victorious smile growing on its face as he felt pride bloom in his heart.


    ¡®I look better.¡¯


    The symptoms of starvation were slowly disappearing, leaving Asterion looking a bit healthier. He was sleeping better, too.


    ¡°What¡¯s with the creepy smile?¡±


    Asterion spun towards Daren carrying an appalled expression.


    ¡°Creepy?¡±


    Daren raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Unsettling at the very least. A bath can¡¯t be that exciting.¡±


    The rest of the group was just a few yards away dismantling the small camp they set up the night before. Asterion decided to rinse in the nearby lake, and out here, it was necessary to take someone with you.


    Asterion smiled.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not the bath. It¡¯s just kind of funny that now that I¡¯ve left the cradle of humanity, that me, a lowly stray, is finally growing strong¡­¡±


    He continued carrying the smile, sadness tipping his tone.


    ¡°I was hungry most days, you know. The days I wasn¡¯t starving, it almost felt like divine punishment the next when I couldn¡¯t find anything to eat. But I can say that in the past week, I¡¯ve eaten more than I thought was possible for someone like me.¡±


    Daren shifted, moving to stand next to Asterion¡¯s reflection in the rippling water and staring at his own.


    ¡°Yeah. It seems like this was a good path for us, wasn¡¯t it.¡±


    He furrowed his brows and looked toward Asterion.


    ¡°But seriously, we should head back. Bodies of water out here give me the creeps.¡±


    Asterion looked toward the lake, seeing a myriad of faint ripples, some larger than others expanding all around the lake and shivering.


    ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Back at camp, Bellarus kicked rich black dirt over the remains of the fire as they approached.


    ¡°Done so quickly? Good.¡± He paused, looking around at everyone packing up their belongings, ¡°we¡¯re a day''s walk from the place we¡¯re heading. The next place we go is very dangerous and is only passable at specific times, so we will have to camp in the forest that surrounds it till it becomes visible.¡±


    Asterion was already ready to leave since all he carried on him were the clothes on his back and the sword on his hip. He had a few food provisions he stuffed in his pocket using weaved leaves as makeshift containers, but that was all.


    ¡®Visible?¡¯ The end caught his ear¡­


    Shortly after, they found themselves trekking through a dreadful forest¡­


    ¡®Damnation!¡¯


    Asterion dived to his right, narrowly avoiding the claw of a ferocious beast. He grunted as he hit the ground, just far enough so that Brandon could swoop in and drive his blade directly into the beast''s eye as it attempted to right itself for a finishing blow.


    The beast stayed standing as it gave no reaction to the blade lodged halfway in its eye, blood seeping from the edges of the steel as it recoiled too late to dodge Brandon¡¯s strike.


    These beasts were incredibly tough to battle by any standard. Their thick fur would force any steel blade to glide rather than cut, and their skin was durable, too, making any poke a hard endeavor. They were also half his size, with the weight to match. Their claws were sharp and forceful enough to contend with the hardened steel alloy that made up their swords.


    It seemed that its only weakness was its furless face, which grunted before the beast renewed its vigor, backing up a few steps and letting out a howl before charging at Brandon to get its vengeance, blade still morbidly lodged in its right eye.


    It didn¡¯t get a chance to, though. Through its rage, it failed to see a silver-polished short sword arcing down to its side. The blade pushed through its tough fur like butter, eating into its leg and causing it to yelp and tumble.


    Before it could recover, the mirror-like blade came down again, eating into its large head, and killing it.


    The swordsman, of course, was Bellarus. Looking around, three other carcasses of these pack beasts strewn around with different injuries covering their bloody bodies.


    ¡®He¡¯s a better swordsman than I thought.¡¯


    Getting up, Asterion wiped the dirt off himself and went to retrieve his sword that was tossed during the scuffle. Losing his grip on his sword seemed to be a common occurrence when using it.


    He grimaced.


    He hadn¡¯t spent these last few days doing nothing in his free time. He wanted to learn how to wield a sword since it was a skill that would likely save him on more than one occasion when he didn¡¯t have the protection of others. He was also gaining strength as he ate more, and allowing him to. The skill would make him less reliant on them, and he would be more capable on his own.


    But teaching swordsmanship was a difficult task, and learning it was harder. First, he had to lift it¡­ which he couldn¡¯t do for very long. Then he had to swing it, which was an exhausting endeavor. Then, when its edge bit into his target, he had to fight the opposite force that bit back¡­ which he was struggling with, he would constantly drop it.


    It was frustrating, to say the least, and why he was currently picking up his sword again. He thought he would ask Brandon or Bellarus, but they were usually busy with tasks for everyone¡¯s survival to have time to spend time teaching a frail boy like him to use one... especially when he couldn¡¯t even hold it up for very long.


    He did watch how they fight when he wasn¡¯t running for his life, though, and tried to mimic it afterward. Their techniques gave him some visual basis to go off of rather than instincts.


    ¡°Alright. That¡¯s the last of them,¡± Brandon huffed, pulling the now-red grip of his sword out of the beast.


    Bellarus grimaced, extending a hand and dismissing the silver projection. The blood covering the blade fell to the ground.


    ¡°Yeah. This is their territory, we should be good for the rest of the way to the city. How are they?¡±


    Asterion looked a bit away, where the rest of the recruits ¡ª at least those who were far enough to escape the ambush without showing their backs to the beasts. Unfortunately, they only escaped after one of the rabid beasts ambushed the group, targeting a couple of recruits.


    Daren looked back, giving him a solemn look, shaking his head.


    ¡°O¡¯ Malley didn¡¯t make it, he bled out during the fight¡­ and Fernando doesn¡¯t look much better.¡±


    Bellarus sighed heavily, matching his expression, and walking toward them, Asterion, Brandon, and another recruit who had a sword following.


    Bellarus¡¯s gaze met Fernando¡¯s, who looked pained and suffering, tears welling in his eyes. He held his side as blood oozed through his fingers.


    Bellarus took a deep breath, and with heavy eyes kneeled next to him, inspecting the wound momentarily. After, he put one hand on the man¡¯s head, comforting him, and reached behind him with his other. A dim light began to flicker in his open hand.


    ¡®No. He wouldn¡¯t?¡¯ Asterion thought, wide-eyed.


    Just as the man¡ªFernando, began to tremble, a silver blade pierced his skull, instantly killing him.


    Shocked gasps echoed through the group. Some backed up a step. Bellarus looked up to the group, still kneeling as the sword turned to ethereal light.


    ¡°He wouldn¡¯t have made it¡­ and neither will we to our destination if we take him with us and wait for the injuries to take its course. When someone¡¯s this injured, you give them mercy¡­¡±


    Mournful silence enveloped the scene, leaving two more bodies in the forest¡¯s brush. The lesson was harsh but rang true.


    When you found an animal too wounded to heal in Hope, it was a morbid truth that they would be better off dead. People, on the other hand, weren¡¯t much different, it just didn¡¯t happen as often.


    A thought rang in his mind.


    ¡®Fourteen now.¡¯


    Fourteen people remained of their original twenty-one. Every person who died to this point could have been him, the thought gave him pause.


    A while later, the expedition went unimpeded for the most part, this time much quieter and more vigilant. The forest itself seemed alive, but most creatures seemed to vanish before they came across them, their noises always at a distance.


    Strong light from the setting sun was fading as the evening progressed, forest floor grew more carpeted in shadows from the canopies.


    Asterion cut down a thorny twig that was in his path, heaving as the blade took him down with it to the ground. He was covered in bleeding scratches from the damned tree and its prickly edifice. He looked at the limb as it fell to the floor, red seeping out of its inside from the cut, shivering.


    ¡®Creepy.¡¯


    By now, it was nearly impossible to see, with only the faintest moonlight piercing the treetop. That was why he had so many cuts. He would run into the damn things and grow unusually exhausted, only recovering when he pulled the prick out.


    ¡®What would happen if I left it in?¡¯ He thought, nearing another tree.


    He grimaced, then looked to Bellarus who was cutting the largest branches down to clear a path through the thick underbrush.


    Up ahead, light seemed to be more prevalent, its glow fading into existence. When Asterion noticed it, so did everyone else.


    ¡°Alright guys, we¡¯re getting to a place we can camp. Up ahead is a clearing that leads to the place we¡¯re passing through, I¡¯ll explain it more when we¡¯re out of this damn forest. It¡¯s called the lost city.¡±