《Chronicles of the Seven Celestials: The Third Prophecy》


 Prologue

    <hr>


    * * *


    In a stark and sterile underground laboratory lies concealed from the world, shrouded by jungles, nestled among hills and mountains where birds sing, signing the no tale to the masked secret.


    The walls were a blinding white, almost excessively pristine, reflecting the fluorescent lights that hummed above. The air carries a cold, clinical quality, permeated by the faint hum of machinery and the sporadic beeps of monitors, all witnessing the test results through the observational eyes of those who reside there.


    Rows of metal tables and glass enclosures line the room, each one meticulously organized with various scientific instruments and medical equipment. In a brightly lit room adjacent to the hallway, researchers in pristine white lab coats moved around as they were engrossed in their tasks, eyes fixed on the screens displaying complex data streams and charts.


    Their faces were obscured by masks and goggles, adding an impersonal, almost robotic air to their demeanor. Some were hunched over microscopes, meticulously examining samples. While the others typed furiously on their keyboards as they diligently inputted and analyzed data.


    One of the middle-aged men there leans closer to the monitor. "Look at these DNA sequences. The polymorphisms we''re observing in the samples from this specimen are unlike anything we''ve ever documented. His genetic markers respond to environmental stimuli in real time. And wow... this is, phenomenal..."


    The other replied while typing rapidly. "Indeed. The mitochondrial DNA analysis shows significant variations. We need to consider the implications of these findings on his metabolic rates. His physiological responses might also skew our data like the one from the A42 Site."


    Another one came closer from their back, adjusting her glasses. "Let''s not forget his heartbeat too. The electrocardiogram readings indicate arrhythmias that correlate with stress responses. We should analyze whether these anomalies are a direct result of his exposure to illicit substances or environmental toxins. Just add one more test for him!!?"


    The first man pointed at the screen projection in their front. "Look here! The blood pressure readings are consistently elevated two minutes after the injection. This could indicate chronic stress or exposure to harmful substances. We should consider how these factors interplay with his neurological development. We don''t want another living corpse from this serum."


    The room buzzed, with the soft murmur of scientific jargon. Papers and files were scattered across desks, filled with cryptic notes and diagrams. Despite the chaos, their movements had an unsettling efficiency, as if every action was part of a well-rehearsed routine. The researchers communicated in hushed tones, punctuated by the occasional beeps of machines and the rustle of their papers. Their focus was unwavering, driven by a cold, clinical determination to achieve their mysterious objectives.


    Regardless. Of what it cost.


    * * *


    <hr>


    In a stark, white-walled room, a young boy of eleven years old lay on a bed. His small frame was ensnared by a web of steel shackles and leather ties. Bruises marred his wrists, vivid red marks as a display of struggle and confinement. Yet, in a surreal twist, the crimson hue seemed to sink beneath his skin, as if some unseen force had drawn it away, leaving behind his original fair skin. His long, black hair cascaded down his back, a dark waterfall against the sterile whiteness of the boy''s surroundings. Clad in a simple white hospital gown, his emerald eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling ¨C reflecting a world that felt distant and unreachable.


    Beside him, a machine hummed softly, its mechanical arm inserting a needle into his arm. A strange, glittering purple liquid flowed into his veins; and within moments, his body began to tremble violently ¨C as if caught in the throes of a tempest. Pain etched itself across his scrunched face ¨C and dark veins, like twisted roots, spread from the injection site, creeping up his arm and coiling around one side of his neck, with some of the inky tendrils reaching toward his heart.


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    In that dream-like state, time lost all meaning. He felt trapped in a liminal space, where whispers echoed inside his mind ¨C faint, indistinct murmurs that tugged at the edges of his consciousness. Blurry images flickered before his eyes, fragments of conversations and scenes from a past he could not fully grasp, memories that felt both familiar and foreign. They might be his ¨C they might be not. After thirty agonizing minutes, his tremors gradually slowed down until they finally ceased, leaving him still and silent, with only the occasional rise and fall of his chest; indicating the life that persisted within him. For now, he had once again ¨C survived this harrowing injection.


    Yet, the battle within him was far from over. A sensation akin to a ball of ice now burning inside his heart, concurrently with a darting pain and the unexpected intervals in between. And this always happens, with no way to ease it except endure like he always had thus far, for ¨C an hour, if he were lucky.


    * * *


    While in another place.


    In the dimly lit, chilly corridor of the underground laboratory, a guard forcefully ushered a boy into a small, daunting room. Left with no choice, the boy began to walk, his footsteps resonating ominously off the concrete walls. The scene shifted, revealing several other children being thrust into similar rooms with equal harshness. Their wrists were secured by unique metal handcuffs, and collars adorned with sinister red lights that wrapped around their necks. Blindfolds obscured their vision, adding to this purposely disorientation. Within these chambers, the children faced wolves, each one twice the size of an ordinary wolf.


    Their growls filled the stifling silence, accompanied by the metallic clink of the chains restraining them. With its light gray downy fur that looks dirty, countless scars, and marks of sutures ¨C their looks exude a downright spine-chilling, along with a touch of baleful presence.


    Suddenly, the lights on the children''s collars extinguished. With a metallic clank, the collars fell to the floor. The handcuffs resonated a sound akin to grinding gears ¨C then swift to release, freeing their arms from any movement obstruction. The children then removed their blindfolds as if it were a natural response to the current situation, where it seemed it was no new stuff for them to experience. Sharp eyes that seemed out of place plastered on their youthful faces. They looked warily at the beast before them; a looming threat they needed to eliminate.


    Then out of nowhere, a shrill sound echoed through each room, followed shortly by a mechanical voice announcing to the children that their time had finally come. It was their test to see if they would survive this obstacle ¨C or not. This challenge was meant to prove their worth to the organization, or they could only struggle to escape; clawing out of the misery from a gorge designated for those of no use and no value. However, saying that they would claw their way out in itself was an overstatement, as no one had ever survived, if they ever lost in this challenge.


    - "The fourth additional test on June 13, 2993. The batch of 137 group A, has officially begun." -


    The chain fell from the beast as it resumed the growl. Its tail was held stiffly in a horizontal position, poised to lunge at its presumed prey. After all, it was already a long time since it had been fed properly. The children in front of these wolves were a perfect meal to fill their bellies.


    *Groar*


    *Rawr*


    Saliva dripped between the menacing gleam of their sharpened teeth and fangs, pooling on the white vinyl sheet flooring, beneath their snarling mouths. Their claws scraped against the floor, producing a chilling, metallic screech as they charged forward. Their greedy eyes demand attention: saliva pools over their indignation at the taste that might come from the slab of meat before them.


    Eventually, the underground lab echoed with a cacophony of primal roars and desperate cries. The children who were already altered by the experiments, fought back with a mix of supernatural abilities. Their breaths came in ragged gasps, punctuated by the occasional scream of pain or shout of defiance against their conditions. The clash of bodies was chaotic, with the thud of heavy paws against the ground, the snap of jaws closing on empty air, and the dull thud of impacts ¨C reverberating as the children used their enhanced strength to fend off the attackers.


    *Huff, huff, huff*


    Amidst the turmoil, there was an underlying rhythm of heartbeats, fast and frantic, a testament to the life and death struggle unfolding in the depths of this lab.


    * * *


    I had heard that, in the world of the living, there was a thing called luck¡­ perhaps I wasn''t so lucky after all, for all I bore then was the silence upon my memories, lost in the back rows of my mind.


    -El¡¯s First Note-

 1. To Survive: Part 1

    (El¡¯s POV)


    Did you¡­ ever see the sky?


    Did you, ever see the clouds with its fleet riding in the winds ¨C twirling, twisting, and curling above?!!


    I saw it once. I saw it twice¡­ I saw it, through the ceiling of my¡­ Hmmmm, dwelling might be a fitting word to use. Shadows wave, stretching languidly as I awaken; like fingers grazing the immense building, with rubble strewn about me.


    In this span of darkness, I gazed upon the quiet night sky, sprinkled with starlight. Perhaps it was a hallucination on my part, but... it felt as though ¨C the same whisper had been interminably caressing my ear for some time by now.


    With weary hands, I propped myself up, sitting amidst the dirt and dust that clung to my skin like a second layer. Slowly and carefully, I shifted my thin arms, my empty stomach rumbling ¨C a sound that echoed the whispers of pain surrounding me. At last, I had traced the source of that incessant growl; it was my own body, a harsh reminder of my plight.


    Annoying as it was, it was mine to bear after all.


    Turning my head to the side, I caught sight of spots and puddles of blood pooling beneath the jagged gaps of the massive wooden roof that had once threatened to crush me. It was a sight I wished was merely a nightmare.


    The two elderly figures, who had hovered on the brink of madness, perhaps contemplating the unthinkable like butchering or eating me alive, now lay lifeless, or more specifically; the two crushed beneath the debris.


    Uh, maybe not crushed. I¡¯ve no idea since I¡¯m not the one there, and my eyes were not present to witness the scene either. Was it my fault? Perhaps. Was this a punishment from the gods, as I had heard whispered in hushed tones before? It certainly felt that way.


    How had this calamity unfolded? I pondered, lost in the haze of my thoughts.


    Just days before, the three of us had teetered on the edge of starvation, our bodies drawn together in the stillness of the cold night. We had clung to one another in a desperate embrace ¨C our scents mingling, a testament to our shared suffering. It was a slightly unpleasant closeness ¨C by the gods, it was the odor, to be honest; but at that moment, it was the best decision we could make, a fragile lifeline that kept us alive, if only just barely at least.


    I rose to my feet and brushed the dirt and grime, off my torn and filthy clothes.


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    My white shirt was no longer white, and my short black pants were no longer black ¨C both fading into their original felted fabric. Yet, I was grateful to have clothes at all, unlike my last friend who had lost everything to the gnawing of repulsive ¨C white worms.


    Hmmmm¡­ what was the name again?!!


    Ah, maggots!!! Yep, that''s the word. At least I now remembered something correctly this time.


    Uhm, the dust didn''t come off easily. Was it the moisture in the air that caused it, or something else? I couldn''t quite grasp it. I had learned about it from the books I once read, but erratically, those memories were sometimes scattered in my head. Well anyway, the point was ¨C something was wrong with my brain. How did this happen??! I wondered.  Surely, gradually losing one''s memories could not have been a good thing, could it? Coupled with the fact that I sometimes struggled to remember anything precisely, it only made matters worse for me. However, dwelling further was pretty much pointless. I continued walking until I stood beneath the moonlight, which had fallen gracefully upon the ground through the uneven hole in the ceiling, connected to the wall on the side. Looking up, it was magnificent.


    In this godforsaken land where death roamed about without a path, there was still a beauty to be admired ¨C a fuzzy warmth nestled and flowing playfully inside my chest as I found the charm in the world, remaining so mesmerizing even amidst this unsettling reality. A moment later, I grimace. The side of my head, my right knee, and my shoulders ¨C all were in pain, likely from the debris that had fallen on me earlier. However, this discomfort was bearable compared to the pain in my stomach.


    I was starved.


    *Drap drap drap*


    *Neigh*


    Suddenly, the faint sound of horse hooves echoed in the night, growing louder. One, two, three... surely there were more. Damn it, weren¡¯t they leaving already? Oh, how furious I was. I gnashed my teeth. It felt like a hammer interminably pounded inside my chest.


    Before, this lovely abode was at least a shelter from the rain and cold, but then it exploded out of nowhere, leaving chunks of broken wood all around. Why? I had no idea. All I knew was that ¨C there was fighting on the other side of the wall before chaos erupted, and boom; now here I am, with dried blood marking my face from the roof that nearly killed me. I''m just slightly fortunate to still breathing here.


    As I remember that morning, other poor and famished villagers were scattered about outside, walking to and fro, tending to the dry fields as part of their daily routine, when suddenly they were attacked. Myself and the two elders, who had already peeked outside, were hiding, quivering with fear. I was not trembling or afraid for my life; my hands and legs were just weak from hunger, hence the shivers.


    In short, I''m not scared!!?


    For a while, there were loud sounds ¨C what one might describe as shrieks from men and women ringing outside. I''m sure there''s a clash of swords with hoes and spades, perhaps. I had no idea if the villagers could even fight back, as they seem all skin and bones to me; not like the warriors I once saw visiting this village with their tall statures, massive arms, and thighs, muscles bulging ¨C and intimidating faces to boot.


    Could you imagine that? It was nerve-wracking, knowing this village was likely doomed.


    * * *

 2. To Survive: Part 2

    I pressed myself against the cool wooden wall, my small frame swallowed by the shadows that danced in the dim light.


    My heart raced as I scurried to the side with my little feet, every instinct honed by the countless times I had narrowly escaped death. The ball of flames from the indignation inside my chest gradually also grew colder, and dimmer, until it fizzed out; replaced by a jumpy clown.


    Yet, despite the anxiety that gripped me, curiosity flickered within. Perhaps this time, they were not the ones who attacked this settlement earlier.


    The possibility might not have been much, but still, I prayed to all the gods above or below or even in the middle, might as well each side if they were even existing ¨C that this time, they were kind souls brimming with food like fruits, bread, or anything edible; unlike the grass, hay and bark I had nibbled on before. The mere thought made my stomach churn even more, and my mouth watered from the expected flavor.


    Now that I had time to consider it carefully, I am fortunate, weren''t I? Before the attack, I had drunk plenty of water. At least, it helped me survive, as it seemed I had fainted for quite a long time.


    Shortly after, I heard and saw men dressed in fine clothes, all in black ¨C swords on the waist. One of them, with a slightly reddish beard, appeared to give orders to his subordinates. I could faintly catch snippets of their conversation, especially from the two men who were approaching my location.


    "Crap," I muttered to myself. They couldn''t be the good guys, not with how suspicious they seemed. It was evident, especially since they carried no bags for food, only those swords¡ªnot even a small pouch. Oh, good gracious, I''m truly going to starve this time. I swiftly ducked and pressed my back even tighter against the wooden wall. Well, I''ll admit it this time; I kind of scared.


    But still, my back detached, and my eyes and head shifted slowly to peek over the wall.


    How was I supposed to see in this darkness? Strangely, as long as there was a moon above, my eyes could make out many things. Everything was fairly clear at night, although not as much as during the day, of course. The old couple claimed it was a sign that I was descended from the Tribals, implying that my blood came from the natives of the mountainous region.


    ''Whatever'' it was, it sounded cool enough to me, for I had used that advantage many times before to avoid starving to death.


    Yet, here I saw all these people who could see everything at night, illuminated only by the light of the moon, without any torches in hand. So, were they children of Tribals too? The thought made me feel a little giddy.


    What was Tribal, anyway? What did these people want from this war-torn village, which wasn''t even worth a glance? Or perhaps they had come here for me? No way, right? Every time I stepped outside, the mud carefully prepared by the two elders was smeared across my face and any exposed skin, creating a grim appearance. Was that no longer enough?


    "What do we do now? We already looking all over this place. How did that witch persuade the captain to search this place again? ¡®There is a breath left here, search!¡¯ That doesn''t even make sense. It¡¯s not like there is magic just to conceal a breath in this ¡®remnant¡¯ land. Are we even in the movie or a drama, finding a prince or a princess in this rundown settlement? And what''s with the horse? Are we even that poor; can''t even afford an off-road car? What age do we even live now? A medieval?" the man on the right spoke, his voice laced with frustration ¨C It was quite loud too, chattering like a music box with its own rhythm. When it came to the horse part, he stretched both of his hands forward, directing them towards the horse they had tied nearby.


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    The other man shot him a glance, irritation slowly etched itself across his features the longer the guy talked. He scowled, "If you want to complain, do not run it off my ear and turn down your voice," yet, he suddenly paused, with his gaze flickering toward the shadows where I hid, and it did, jolted my body slightly. I quickly tried to avert my vision away, which failed terribly, for my face and eyes felt stiffened from the surprise. The only thing I managed to do was to raise my trembling hands slowly, stack them on top of each other, and clasp them tightly in my mouth to stifle any sound.


    "Besides, what''s wrong with a horse? Do you even know how hefty the prices are in the city these days?" he continued.


    The first man¡¯s agape in disbelief, picking over the clue of what he said. ¡°Really? So, it¡¯s true¡ªyou had a mission in the empire? Damn¡­ you are crazy. I knew you had it in you! You know one wrong move there and your head will be rolling, right?¡± at the end of his words, he rolled his index finger right in front of the man¡¯s eyes, who swatted it away with his hand.


    The rugged man then merely shrugged to reply, a nonchalant gesture that belied the gravity of the actual situation. "Then you''d best keep your mouth shut. This is a classified one."


    The other man replied with a click of his tongue. "Tch, why the hell the higher-ups agree to take this on!? Hiding right under the territory of the empire. I heard they even managed to hold one of the escaped Hybrids to join their side. Don''t tell me they believe that nonsense of a quote, about ''Hidden under the thumb is better than what-not.'' Wonder whose jerk saying that. Too much. Too much risk here¡­"


    "It''s not only one," the latter replied. After a few moments pass, he shakes his head. "You remember the two Labs spoke to be burned to the ground?"


    "You mean?"


    "Yes¡­"


    Suddenly, a faint rumbling sound was heard in the silence of the night, breaking the conversation of the two who were just one wall away from me. Yes, it was me ¨C my goddamn stomach who couldn''t even read the atmosphere when it mattered, and it happened just when they were the closest. My luck¡­.


    The air thickened with unspoken fears, and I held my breath, praying they wouldn¡¯t discover my presence. I slid down slowly to the floor, with my back pressing on the cold wall. The darkness seemed to close in around me, a suffocating shroud that mirrored the dreary snake''s coiling in my gut.


    One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. The footsteps getting further, and the pace that moved alongside my rapid heartbeat gradually faded. Finally, I exhaled, a sigh of relief escaping my lips as it seemed ¨C once again this time ¨C I was safe.


    ¡°But I¡¯m still hungry though,¡± I whispered to myself, thinking that perishing from hunger might be a better way ¨C a more comforting end rather than being beheaded by a sword. It looked gory and disgusting when I first saw those heads.


    * * *


    ¡°Found you!!!¡±


    ¡°Ahhh¡­¡± I immediately screamed in horror.


    It was the man with the loudmouth ¨C with his face on the side of the broken walls, showing up abruptly on my side with part of his feature hidden in the darkness, and the shimmer in his eyes for finding the source of the sound. I turned, trying to claw away ¨C but my knees gave away before the run even began. For god¡¯s sake¡­


    But his hand already found my shoulder, fingers curling around it with an iron grip. I struggled against the weight of my battered body, but it was futile. In that fleeting moment, my gaze caught a glimpse of what lay in the man¡¯s other hand ¨C a syringe, glinting ominously as it quickly pierced the tender flesh of my neck. A sharp sting erupted, reminiscent of a fire ant¡¯s bite, searing through my senses.


    Within moments, the world around me began to spin, colors swirling into a dizzying blur. Faintly, I heard a man''s voice inquire, "How is it, Rick?" to which the reply came shortly, "Nice and clean."


    Eventually, darkness enveloped me, fatigue gently caressing the back of my head, draining the last remnants of consciousness; by then, I had lost track of time.


    When I finally awoke, I found myself sprawled on a stark white bed in a sterile room, draped in garments as pale as the walls that surrounded me. The air was thick with the weight of watchful eyes, a chorus of silent observers.


    Funnily, my gaze drifted, drawn to a figure whose dark skin contrasted sharply with the clinical brightness ¨C a man peering down at me, his forehead the only part of him visible beneath a mask. In that surreal moment, a flicker of humor danced in my mind. It struck me as absurd, this juxtaposition of stark white and deep black; and I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle inwardly. Well, I might say that my sense of humor got the better of me for finding something amusing in this dreadful, ominous circumstance. But could I say anything about that?


    Because that''s the approach I''ve taken in life so far. Regardless of the difficulties, I thought ¨C laughing to myself wasn''t a crime, and certainly ¨C it wouldn''t cause anyone to snap at me,


    Right???


    * * *

 3. The Mysterious Man: Part 1

    * * *


    Upon opening his eyes, El found himself gazing at a wooden ceiling that seemed to greet him in return. As his sight gradually returned, the image resembled a canvas delicately brushed by a skilled painter''s hand. It took a moment for his brain to process this realization, but eventually, he understood that he was alive and well, despite having been taken by those mysterious people.


    "Uh¡­ uh¡­"


    At first, he struggled to move his mouth and tongue ¨C until words finally took shape. "W-where, am I?" he muttered to himself. He is certain it is not the library in the village, as he vividly recalls the moment when the wooden ceiling nearly collapsed on him.


    Propping himself up to slowly sit on the bed, El realized something was underneath him. He looked down. ''Huh¡­ Bed? Is this, really a bed???''


    He touched it, punched it, pushed it, and kneaded it ¨C he explored it in every way he could. His eyes flickered with curiosity and awe. Apart from the occasional experiences that came to him through his fragmented dreams, he had never truly understood what a bed was in real life. It felt fluffy, comfy, and soft.


    ''I must be missing this for years.''


    There was another thing he took notice of. And that was, his arms were bigger, longer, and not as thin, dry, and tanned as he remembered. Suddenly, pieces of memories came forcefully to the inside of his head, accompanied by the assault of stabbing pain that throbbed continually. It was painful. He clutches his head tightly that was wrapped in a bandage.


    Not so great for a start of the day, ay.


    After a minute passed, there was nothing. He didn''t even manage to comprehend what the memories were. Well, at this point, he was already getting used to that. At times, he knew what the memories were, but often couldn''t even make sense of what it was. And another time, just like what he used to ponder, ''it''s gone by the wind, I guess,'' ¨C the recollection rapidly leaves his side with no hints of trace left behind.


    ''I lost my memories again. This time, it seems to be way longer than before. Maybe years¡­ uh, how do I even be here?'' shaking his head in exasperation, he realized this was the first time his memories had such long gaps between what he recalled. His small, thin arm and malnourished self were nowhere to be found anymore. It felt as though, he was healthier this time around, and obviously, older.


    Clenching his fingers tightly, he discovered an unfamiliar strength within his band of muscles.


    "What a great day. The only thing I lack right now is¡­ a delicious meal," he said to himself.


    *Clack*


    Unexpectedly, the sound of the door unlocked from the outside echoed in the room, causing El''s body to quickly tense up. He pushed the white and soft blanket aside, jumped up, and attempted to stand on the floor. However, he would soon realize that it was a terrible mistake.


    *Thud*


    His lower half was still stiff and numb, causing his feet to inevitably skid on the floor. He slipped and fell to the ground, almost face¨Cplanting. Luckily, his palm and forearm managed to catch himself just in time.


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    "So, you''re awake?"


    El''s head turned toward the source of that deep, gruff voice. He found out it was a middle-aged man wearing black clothes all over his body, with stocky, well-defined muscles showing from beneath the tight long-sleeved shirt. And he was exceptionally tall and large too, with his body filling the doorway and nearly reaching the ceiling. He needs to bow down just to come inside.


    "Ummmm, who are you???" El asked him.


    "It seems, you lost your memories again¡­" he replied. He had a thin beard on his face, giving him a rather stern appearance.


    *Cklek*


    After closing the door behind him, he casually walked inside ¨C slowly approaching a wooden bookshelf, a study table, and a chair located on the side of the room. His fingers brushed gently against the books. His eyes seemed to be drawn to something.


    To somewhere.


    Finally regaining some sense and strength in his legs, El draws away from that man ¨C with one knee bending to the ground and arms ready to retaliate.


    The man could feel El''s gaze on him. It was cautious.


    Turning his vision away from the books to El, the man then walked to the chair, while lifting his eyebrows, and tilted his head once to the side. He said, "Being wary of strangers. Nice of you not losing that edge yet," he sat down abruptly on the chair.


    Heaving a sigh, the man looked into El¡¯s eyes. "Remember this. Your name is Gabriel. But you must not use it in any circumstances. Understood!??"


    "¡­ why not? Besides, who are you anyway?" El replied while displaying an expression of confusion and displeasure. ''The heck, who are you naming me like a kitten?!!''


    "I am¡­ ¡­ you don''t need to know that. You just need to trust me. If I tell you to go south. You go south. If I tell you to go north. You go north. If I tell you don''t go west or east, then don''t go. Do not ever go!!! From now on, your name is El. Only El. Etched it on your head, understand?"


    "Wow, are you seriously telling me to do what you want when this is the first time we met? Should I say yes if you tell me to be sold to the house of slavery then?" in one breath, El asked in bafflement.


    "I won''t do that. Don''t worry, I won''t hurt you," he leaned forward, then put his elbows on his knees. Eyes solemnly looking at El, still sitting with his oversized body on that poor, normal-sized chair.


    "How am I supposed to trust what you said? You are not very bright, aren''t you sir?"


    Upon hearing that, the man''s eyes could be seen twitching.


    "Anyway, you need to trust me if you don''t want to die. That''s all there is to it. And¡­"


    "And???"


    "Foods on me," he smirked after making that statement.


    Meanwhile, El opened his eyes wide and then raised a question to clarify whether he had some problem with his ear.


    "You mean¡­ gulp. Foods on you, it was like what people said ¨C free right?" El was interested. So interested, particularly in that ''food'' part. It felt like his brain had just gone straight to the factory to be reprocessed ¨C as his prudence went straight out of the window, and his wit was pushed to the side of the road. ''What the¡­ what day was today? It must have been a new year, wasn''t it?'' El thought, laughing to himself.


    "Yes, hahaha¡­ Yes, kid. It was free," the man appears amused by El''s antics.


    "For me??? Free?"


    "Yes. It is."


    "Alright, I am at your beck and call, sir," El''s gleefully replied with a big smile hanging on his face. Still genuflecting, he placed his palm on his chest, above his heart, in a manner reminiscent of the knights in his many dreams.


    "Good, let''s go then. We get some food on the street," the man said as he stood up.


    "Sir, if I may ask, you know me, aren''t you? For how long? You even know about my memories. What... what happened after I was taken from the village?" El also stood up, facing the man.


    ¡°¡­ this isn¡¯t the first time we''ve met. We''ve spent time together for quite a while now. If this is all about your memory loss, I¡¯m sorry, but for many reasons, I can¡¯t say more right now...¡±


    "... ok then. How about this? Why should I only use El if I have a name, sir? Gabriel, huh? Where does the name even come from?" El asked with glimmers of curiosity in his eyes. ''Gabriel, not bad for a name. But feels a bit girlish though...''


    "Hmmmm¡­ I tell you later. Come now, I''m hungry too..."


    * * *

 4. The Mysterious Man: Part 2

    * * *


    After coming outside of that small one-story house, El followed the man to get outside of the alleyway. He looked up, his mouth left agape. He was greeted, by an unfamiliar sight like never before. Towering buildings, not made of wood like what he regularly saw, but from what he had heard in the village and read in the books, namely bricks or perhaps concrete blocks. People walked about in every direction. Some were fat, some were thin, but they all shared one thing in common: they looked healthy. Fatigue and anguish didn¡¯t envelop their outward appearance like a second layer of skin.


    Everything.


    Everything was good.


    He had heard that the people living in the city did not have to worry about dying from hunger, suffering from malignant diseases that would inevitably shorten their lives, or facing bandits who would kill, rape, and rob as they pleased if the village happened to be unlucky on any given day.


    ''I... I..''


    ''I feel uncomfortable¡­ is this jealousy?''


    ''I can''t deny that this is me and my thoughts. Of how lucky they all are.''


    El abruptly stopped his steps ¨C silently mulling over it in his place while looking down at the ground. He didn''t know what to think at the moment. Suddenly, he found a pair of black shoes right in front of his feet, which also was covered by the same shoes, except for the size difference. El looked up. It was that man, now with a black mask and a large grey jacket, just like the one he was wearing right now, but a smaller version of it.


    "You are fine, aren''t you boy?"


    Shaking his head, El gets rid of all that ''not so good'' conception from the inside of his mind. Giving the man a smile, he said, "Nothing sir. I just remember something seeing this many people.¡±


    "Alright lad, come on. It was close. This is one of the places you need to be regular if you were living in Mirthwater."


    Running to catch up to the man''s big step, El raised a question, intrigued. "Mirthwater???"


    "Yes¡­ this is the place you''re going to live. At least for now."


    "Oh, I see."


    At last, they finally arrived at the eatery. It was a simple wooden building that appeared old but sturdy, nestled between grand and magnificent structures on either side. Despite its modest appearance, it attracted a large number of people, particularly those who were already inside the restaurant. Fortunately, there was a spacious yard outside, complete with its shade, empty tables, and chairs. Taking one of the empty tables, that man called for the waiter. He ordered bunches of dishes with names El didn''t understand from that thick piece of white paper, covered by some kind of white, transparent plastic. But if it was food made and served in the city.


    ''Surely, it is going to be good, isn''t it?'' El assumed with full of expectation.


    As they waited for their food, El asked that man, "So, can I have your name now, sir?"


    Looking at El in the eye, the man answered, "It won''t do you any good if you knew my name, kid."


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    "¡­ I see¡­ what about. What about my memories then? What''s happened?"


    "Ask other questions!!?"


    "Uh, why?"


    "Hmmmm¡­ this time too I will say, it won''t do you any good knowing that."


    "Oh wow. You just don''t want to tell me anything aren''t you sir? Won''t do you any good, won''t do you any good. How about a different answer next time," El said while rolling his eyes.


    "No kidding," the man counter El, then looked away.


    El could glimpse something behind that action. And it was, ''Is it¡­ guilt?''


    "Alright, here is another question," after taking a deep breath, El resumed. "You are¡­ sad, aren''t you sir?" El asked that, with eyes intently focused on the man''s expression.


    "Huh. Why do you think so?" the man raised one of his eyebrows and deflected the question with another question.


    "When you touched those books. You look sad. I mean, I don''t know how I could fully explain this, I am, you see. A sensitive person when it comes to someone''s feelings. Someone''s, emotions. Like, I could feel it¡­ and. You were sad at that time. Still sad to this time," El recalled the man''s expression and the emotion radiating from him when he brushed his fingers gently from the right to the left along those rows of books.


    The only thing he could discern from him at that moment was that grief hid behind the fa?ade of strength. A sorrow shrouded him. And it feels like he was recollecting something of the past, and helpless to change the outcome. There was a crack in his expression that El noticed. El glimpsed upon the poker face that changed into that of sorrow, but it only lasted for a few seconds at most. It was back to normal after that, with silence ensuing, making El uncomfortable and remorseful. ''Maybe it was a mistake for me to ask that.''


    After a minute, the man breaks the stillness. His eyes were now fixed on the void. "The place where you slept earlier. It was a room once used by my daughter."


    "¡­"


    "She likes reading books¡­ and I was a criminal back then. So, most of the time in her life, she needs to hide. Hiding for the failure of a father¡­ I remember that she is such a sweet child," he stated flatly as if it were everyday news. However, El could discern subtle hints of emotion from him. His lips trembled from the weight of the burden it gripped onto him.


    "¡­"


    "¡­"


    "I''m sorry. I didn''t mean to," El said, tears streaming down his face, dampening his cheeks. He looks down, feeling ashamed. Because he believed that, a man shouldn''t ever cry.


    He didn''t want to cry. It was just¡­ he couldn''t help it.


    Because the sheer sadness behind that composure breaks his heart. He didn''t know when or how it had come to be, but El, since he was still a child, could feel the haunting emotions of others to some extent. Sometimes, he couldn''t feel anything ¨C numb to any sensations. But this time, unfortunately for him, his senses in that part felt heightened several times, making him acutely aware of the man''s suffering.


    The stabbing pain in the heart. Even his fingers now quivering from the man''s reflections of that emotion.


    On the other hand, the man was now smiling. He said, "Oho, you could guess it then. No worries child, it was all in the past."


    "I''m sorry¡­ hic¡­"


    "Nothing to be sorry about¡­ you don''t have it easy either, yet you still managed to even cry for an old man like me. You really are such a good kid," he said, eyes on El who was busy rubbing his eyes with his hands and shirt.


    A short moment later, in panic, the man said, "Hmmm, you better stop crying, kid. Everyone is now looking at us."


    Looking up to understand what the man was talking about, El surveyed his surroundings. A few guests there were now looking at their table with weird skepticism. Especially a mother of several children who sat on the outside, glaring at the man with eyes spewing fire that were practically saying, ''What are you doing to a kid, making him cry that much?''


    "¡­ pffftt¡­ ehehehe," El couldn''t help but feel funny about the misunderstanding. Stealing a shy glance at that particular mother until their eyes met, she then gave El the kindness and the sweetest smile she could muster. El ends up nodding, replying to her with a smile of his own.


    "Hmmm, you evil kid. I give that to you!"


    Calmed down, El replied to him while wiping his eyes with tissues given by the man. "It''s not my fault. You look so intimidating, like someone ready to kill. Hehehe¡­"


    * * *

 5. The Mysterious Man: Part 3

    * * *


    The dishes they had ordered finally arrived, bringing with them an irresistible, mouthwatering aroma that left El dazed from how enticingly good the smell was.


    ''Is this, heaven?''


    Looking at the white plate, El felt like going through a rollercoaster of emotions. He recalled a memory where he collected a plate in his village, although it was already in pieces. He once tried to glue it together with sap from a tree that grew around the village, albeit proved unsuccessful. The plate in front of him, however, was whole, intact, and exquisitely white. It was also clean. On the plate, there lay a dish with a generous portion of meat, from which hot steam was still drifting above.


    Meat was a food he had tried only once when a group of mercenaries visited the village and stayed in the place provided by the villagers. When they promised to take him and another small child, who were the only two kids left in the village; after completing their job, three days later, only the decapitated head of one of the group members was returned, found by one of the villagers while looking for food in the forest.


    The others were probably dead.


    "Is this meat? Can I really eat this?" El inquired hesitantly. He didn''t want anyone to suffer or die simply just because of it. And he certainly did not have any money to pay for this. ''Stealing? Well, the meat looks hot though, wonder how I could hide it. The jacket seems to be new too.''


    "Yes, of course. You may eat it. There are other dishes that will coming here shortly. Eat your fill¡­" the man said, placing his mask inside his jacket pocket.


    "Okay... thank you.¡±


    ¡°Why haven''t you eaten it yet?"


    "Uh¡­ I. I once read in a book that people in the city eat with these, spoons, um, forks, and knives, isn''t it? The elders in the village said that it would be rude if I were to use my hands in the city."


    "Then use it!!? If you don''t know how to use it, I''ll demonstrate it to you. Here, like this. And like this. And you lifted it like this. And done. Easy right?" the man said, demonstrating to El how to use the utensils, while still chewing on his food.


    "But I am a villager. I''m not someone born in the city. I''m not supposed to use what people in the city use in front of them. Can we maybe, take it home? I heard it was possible," El replied with an awkward demeanor, feeling embarrassed.


    "Where did you even hear that?" the man frowned at El''s explanation.


    "Uh, one of the elders in the village."


    "Nonsense. There is no difference between people in the city and the village."


    Opening his mouth in surprise, El responded, "Really? But why is our life in the village so hard compared to the people that live in the city?" he asked with perplexity and pure innocence.


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    Hearing that, the man abruptly froze in his seat with a spoon still in his mouth. Pulling the spoon away, chewing slowly then swallowing it hard, he replied, "It was because... life, I guess."


    "Life?" El tilted his head. His eyes reflected that of genuine curiosity behind it. No malice nor resentment.


    Almost choking on his food, the man then proceeds to say, "Life, is unpredictable. Sometimes it''s going low. Sometimes it''s going high. No one could get a clear grasp on it. Everyone is different. Who, when, and how they are born and growing up ¨C circumstances surrounding them. It was filled with. Unfairness," the more he said, somehow the more composed he became. Until what was left were a pair of deep blue eyes, locking gaze with El''s emerald eyes.


    ''What the heck was that?'' knitted his eyebrows, thinking hard about what the man said, El spoke while scratching the side of his head. "I''m sorry, I didn''t understand."


    "It''s fine. You will understand it one day. Perhaps soon. Grow up some more kid."


    "Okay. So, I will use this then," he had already observed how the people used it at the other tables while waiting. As someone who was a quick learner, El learned how to use the fork and knife on the first try. ''It''s easy.''


    Upon tasting it, El''s eyes lit up with pleasure. It felt as though his taste buds had finally reached an oasis after all this time being stranded on a dry dune for so long. And like a drought welcoming the rainy days, his thirst was finally quenched. His body shivered from the intense stimulation. He resisted the urge to use his hand to grab and gobble the food.


    ''This was,''


    "This was the best food I ever had¡­ it''s really good," with bulging cheeks from stuffing the food as quickly and as much as possible, El still managed to pause and ask the man a question.


    "What, what is the name of this food sir?"


    "That dish is called hanger steak with their special herb sauce. One of the many signature dishes of this small, yet the most famous restaurant in Mirthwater."


    *Cough*


    Noticing someone coughing and approaching their table under the shade of the parasol, El turned to the direction of the sound where it came from. And it was an old man, with white hair (had some shiny bald spots on top of his head), a hunched back, hands resting on his back, and the most noteworthy one was, his mean face (I''m sorry grandpa, didn''t mean it).


    "It''s been so long since the last time you visited¡­" the old man stated with a shaky and breathy voice. But soon, his words were cut off by the man.


    "Cough¡­ old man¡­ cough, cough¡­" the man eyeing the old man, who was called Tigo, giving a secret signal with only his eyes.


    Quickly catching on to what the man trying to convey to him, old Tigo nodded his head. "I see. They are on your tail huh. How about the kid?" he asked, turning to El, then ended up staring at him in an intense way.


    Feeling the gaze, El slowed down his eating, then nodded shyly with the corner of his eyes peeking at the old man.


    "We talk later Tigo. Don''t want the kid to hear about it," the man said casually with a homies tone as if they had known each other for years.


    "Alright," he said. With difficulty, the Tigo''s eyes peeled away from El.


    Truthfully, El felt uncomfortable under the old man''s scrutinizing gaze. He wondered why, yet there was a tingling sensation in his gut and instinct ¨C traveling mystifyingly up and down his spine ¨C telling him obliquely that not only was the old man dangerous, but he was also looking at him with inquisitiveness and...


    Evil intention.


    ''They seem to be close. Should I, warn him about it?''


    Hesitating at first, El leaned closer to the table and, in an almost whisper, asked the man a question regardless, "That old man. Who is he, sir?"


    "Ah, don''t mind him. Just an old acquaintance," noticing El''s raised eyebrows that expressed puzzlement, the man resumed. "I mean, he was an acquaintance of my late father. But I treat him like a friend now."


    "Oh, I see."


    * * *

 6. What It Feels Like To Have A Father: Part 1

    * * *


    After the conversation about the old man, the two proceed with their meal. As El ate his second portion of meat along with other dishes and finished it, he looked up to the man who was already on his tenth portion, with all the dishes being different types. And even till now already more than an hour had passed, he was still going strong with it, making El speechless.


    ''Is he... starved or something???''


    El even had already waved goodbye to the kind mother from earlier, whose cute sons and daughter had curiously looked at him, while hiding behind their mother''s legs.


    After that mother was done with her and her kid''s meal, she left, purposely passing the place where El was sitting. She took the time to ask El if he was fine while eyeing occasionally at the man who ignoring their interaction. At last, she patted El''s head before leaving, causing his heart to flutter.


    After waving his shy goodbye, the corner of El''s mouth raised involuntarily.


    Suddenly, El''s eyes caught onto something. Originating from the inside, El noticed a staff member at the eatery struggling to bring numerous package boxes in a large transparent plastic bag to the side of the restaurant.


    Then, two children revealed themselves from the shadow of that alleyway. El raised his eyebrows. Not out of suspicion. But because the two children were looking pale and sickly. The two were a girl and a boy around his age right now. They wear tattered clothes with many messed up lines of stitches. The boy had fading red hair, while the girl had the same color as him ¨C it was black hair.


    "Umm, excuse me sir?" said El, pulling the attention of ''the man'' seated in front of him, from his ''Oh so big feast''.


    After taking a swig of his beer and swallowing a mouthful of food inside his mouth, the man responds. "¡­ yes, what''s up boy?"


    "Is it normal for people living in the city to look like that?" El said, discreetly using his finger to point at the boy and the girl who was now happily opening the package. And it was food. They use the utensils made of plastic to eat it on the spot.


    El could see that female staff hurriedly taking chairs from an empty table, and then asking them to sit, which the two hardly complied with. After much persuasion and faint angry noises, only then did the two reluctantly sit on the chairs. The guests whether on the outside or the inside, were hardly looking at them, as if it was a common occurrence.


    The man himself turned his head over his shoulder. After a second, he turned back to El.


    "You mean them?"


    "Yes," El said.


    Still with the fork in his grasp, the man explained, "They are people from the underside¡­"


    "Underside? What do you mean? Are they like, living under the city? The underground?" asked El, curious about the topic.


    "Yeah, you could say so."


    Frowning, El raises a question again. It seemed that the meaning behind the man''s words was vaguely bad. "You didn''t tell me the whole truth. I''m sure of it. Please tell me what you mean by ''people from the underside'', sir?"


    "¡­ things happen. Some people falling out of favor. Their children. Descendant. Is the one who pays the full price," pausing for a few seconds, he resumed, "They are all also called, ''rodents''. People who were purposely neglected by the whole empire, just like a rat on the street."


    "¡­ ¡­ you mean. They are just like me and the villagers."


    "Hmmmm. Hypothetically, yes. It was like¡­ If the village you lived in before is positioned as the number three, the worst place to live in the whole Threa. Then the underside is number four in that list."


    "¡­ what is the number one and two then?"


    Subsequently, for a whole minute, they left in a staring contest ¨C until El couldn''t hold it any longer.


    "You won''t tell me, won''t you?"


    "Yes. If you wanted to know more, you know the rows of books in the room where you sleep, right? Read it all. You will gain a basic understanding of the history of the empire we are currently in."


    Shrugged his shoulder, El replied, "Alright then¡­"


    "How long till you finally finished with your meal, sir?" now, El pointed back to the matters at hand. It was close to two hours already since the first time the man ate his meal.


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    "Calm down boy. Here, let me tell you something. As I am someone who has lived way longer than you, I''ll give you some advice!?? A worthy advice¡­ you need, to always enjoy your food as long as it takes if you have time, especially if you are later to become an adult like me. That, is the basis of how you''re going to enjoy life, you hear me?"


    El absentmindedly nodded his head as he only heard half part of what was said, with his attention again back to the two children. Meanwhile, the earlier female staff was already back to work.


    A few moments later, five more children emerged from the dark alleyway and proceeded to take the packaged food that had been placed on the table. They all then eat it with relish. One of the children looked so small and fragile but still had the same sickly look as the other kids. Rather gaunt cheeks, along with dark circles under their eyes, remind El of his sleepless wary night, not only from the mosquito but also from the two elders who initially sheltered him.


    From that recollection of the past, filled with fatigue, hunger, to thirst, and then danger, El began to feel hungry again, even though his stomach felt like it was going to burst from how much he had already eaten.


    Suddenly, the first girl with his black hair turned her sight to El. Their eyes locked at each other for a few seconds, until that female girl nudged at the first boy on her side. The boy had a serious look on his face.


    The trio then glanced at each other. Observing. Evaluating one another.


    It all ended when El caught a sneer from the boy, who subsequently turned his face away from him. The girl follows after, this time without a sneer.


    At last, eating his last bite, the man was finally satisfied.


    After paying all the bills, he left with El, who did not forget to steal one more glance at the ''kids from the underside''. There, his emerald eyes met the girl''s and the boy''s eyes again.


    While the girl showed no expression on her face, the boy sneered at him again for no reason. Shortly after, he looked away from El.


    ''What did that even mean?'' El tilted his head to the side, genuinely confused about what that meant actually. He tries to mimic the boy and then shows it to the man while walking on the street.


    "Sir, sir. What did this mean?" El said, with his mouth awkwardly trying to sneer.


    "What the¡­ what are you trying to do? Don''t tell me you are sick?"


    "What sick? I''m not¡­"


    "Then don''t do it. There is this disease called stroke."


    "Stroke?"


    "Yes. One of the late symptoms is exactly like what you did?"


    "Symptoms? What are symptoms?"


    "Symptoms are something that you did earlier."


    "What did I do?? What do you mean exactly?"


    "It means. Ummmmh, it means being dumb¡­"


    "What? Dumb? I''m not dumb," El stated, retorting back.


    "What you did earlier is being dumb," countered the man with a side-eye glance.


    El''s mouth was simultaneously shaped into an O. ''Oh, it means that boy is being dumb then. Such a pity¡­''


    El then said, "I see. I¡¯m actually not being dumb. I am just mimicking someone from that restaurant."


    "Then don''t do it if you didn''t want to be dumb. The dumb label isn''t as good these days."


    "What do you mean?"


    "Nothing."


    "Sir, I have to say this. But it seems, you really like to not finish your words, or say something extremely unclear."


    "Am I? I am always finished things though."


    "Huh???"


    "Nothing¡­"


    "Right¡­" El rolled his eyes again.


    "By the way, where are we going right now?"


    "Where? To the area where there is street food, of course¡­"


    "Street food? You mean, we eat again?"


    "Of course. After a little walk, we eat again. You kid especially needs to eat a lot, so you can grow big, strong, and tall like me."


    "Oh, umm¡­ okay then¡­ it''s still free right?"


    "Don''t worry, your sir here has a lot of money¡­" the man said while hitting his chest twice with his palm. His expression was again, obscured by the mask.


    The two then share the time together, eating various street foods.


    One time, El dazedly looked at a harmonious picturesque where a young mother who held her son''s arm, shared an ice cream with him. Soon after, the father of that family tapped playfully at the mother''s shoulder, making her flinched from surprise. The two soon bickering playfully, with their son didn''t even bother with them. Instead, the child was busy looking left and right.


    There was no doubt from the child''s expression, that if the mother''s hand were not grasping the child''s hand tightly yet gently, he would be running away by now. El knew it quite clearly because he could feel the child''s desire from his current position ¨C and that was to run around in this market, away from his parents.


    El does not know why and what came over him at that moment, but watching that happy and cheerful family...


    Was actually pretty painful for him.


    Out of nowhere, El''s shoulder was tapped by a big hand.


    "Hey, kid. Here, try this. It''s called ice cream. It''s really good."


    "Oh¡­ thanks," said El while once again, dazed, looking at the man with his intimidating appearance, who towering high in front of him. There were already two kids crying from simply seeing him here on this street.


    "What kid? Something''s on my face."


    "No, you just¡­ look cool."


    "Oh, I am indeed. Pity I''m already old now. if only you saw the young me¡­"


    "Uh-huh¡­" El swiftly lost interest after he started to ''go into the story'' modes. After spending only a day with the man, El had a general understanding of one special trait of the man.


    And that was.


    ''He brags a lot,'' El thought. Even then, his eyes curved, not only from the delectable sweetness of the ice cream but also because of the man. El secretly smiles, while stealing glances at the man.


    ''Is this what it feels like¡­ to have a father? It''s not bad. It really is not bad at all¡­''


    * * *

 7. What It Feels Like To Have A Father: Part 2

    Arrived back at the wooden house, just before the man opened the door, El for some reason, stopped his step. Originated from the side, he found out, there was a current of air briskly blowing out against the wall, creating a cryptic whisper that brushed against his skin, under the night with only part of the crescent moon visible in this period of darkness.


    Walking a few steps to the side, right on the dark alleyway between that wooden house and another concrete building, it was there. Wired barbed fences blocked the way to the deeper part of the alleyway, gleaming under the small bit of the yellow light from the lamp attached to a pole, dimly lit up the pathway around El.


    "What''s up, kid?"


    "Is that???" El raised a brief question while turning his head to the man who approached him.


    Putting his hand on top of El''s shoulder, the man explained it to El. "After that fence, is what people called the Downtrodden Region. Or much more known as, the underside."


    "You mean, those kids earlier?" without El realized, his voice quivering. It was as if, he had glimpsed upon the reflection under that absence of light, piercing through the shadows. Even without the man explaining it clearly, he somehow understood a section of the underlying connotation behind it.


    "Yes¡­ let''s go¡­" the man invited El to come with him.


    After the man closed the door, concurrently ¨C uncertainty, confusion, and the cold glimmer of hope resting inside El''s chest was quietly occluded. Much like the apparent excuses in his life living in the village, when he continuously resisted death itself.


    * * *


    Let himself fall on the bed, El let out a sigh. Whether it signified a heavy or a light one, he didn''t know. After a moment had passed gazing at the ceiling, he turned his face to the window where the curtain was still ajar.


    And he found¡­


    There was nothing. Only night remained.


    ''What is it that I was sad about? I wonder¡­'' his eyebrows knitted together. He then closed his eyes.


    After mulling over it again, and again, and again. Finally, he met an imaginary crossroad inside his mind, where it felt like his consciousness itself was pulled by a force to some unknown destination. The path was filled with flashing symbols and shapes, from triangles, circles, and squares ¨C to unknown alphabets.


    His heart was beaten by then. His ear was humming with white noises interlapping between each other. Images flashed in his head. It was strings of chaotic pictures ¨C flipping, alternating, shifting, colliding against one another. Myriads of emotions clashed together, along with his ear buzzing with whispers intermittently.


    Initially, everything was extremely unclear and vexing. However, suddenly, it all went silent. The images paused into a blurry scene where it was hard for El to discern anything. His heart subsequently calmed down. But his body was soaked in sweat.


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    However, it wasn''t for long. He heard a young girl''s voice calling out to him, as the indistinct scene inside his mind seemed to shift slightly.


    "Hey. What''s your name?"


    "You mean me?"


    "Yeah, of course. Who else is here?"


    "Ummm, like you see on my shirt. It was C-013"


    "Kekekek, not that, silly. I mean your name. Your real name?"


    "I¡­ I didn''t have one."


    "You ¨C didn''t have one?"


    "Yes¡­"


    "Well. Sorry about that."


    "It''s fine¡­"


    *Bzzzztttt*


    Once again, white noises filled El''s entire mind. He tightly clenched his finger. His eyebrows frowning even harder. Eventually, the start of that conversation flowed back again. But this time. it wasn''t something like what El expected. It was a familiar voice to him, filled with breathy, scratchy sound.


    "I hope you die a terrible death. Your bones are crushed by the jaws of beasts. Your flesh is gnawed by maggots. Your eyeballs rotted while you were still alive. Your blood drained by Witches. Your skin is peeled by Shifters. Your brain is sucked by Devourers. I curse you... I curse you... I curse you¡­ die, die, die, die, DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE!!!!"


    El abruptly opened his eyes, simultaneously inhaling a sharp breath. Propping himself up to sit on the bed, he gave himself a helpless smile.


    "What did I even expect? It always ends up like this," El stated bitterly, still panting from the mixed emotions, especially considering how he had listened to that grating man''s voice, cursing him in horrendous anger every single time he tried to dig deeper into his messy memories. Those sets of words were always different, but the factual message was always the same.


    Basically, it wanted him to die.


    Another worthy piece to note was that the unpleasant old man''s voice, which was likened to a steel rod scraping repeatedly on the flat surface of a mirror, was always successful in making his brain feel itchy. He really wanted to rub it, if only it were possible.


    *Knock knock knock*


    Suddenly, knocks reverberated inside the room. El subconsciously flinched on the spot.


    "Yes?" he asked out loud, pretending to be brave but still a bit scared nevertheless. Whether it was a ghost or not was yet to be disclosed. But surely for El, he was certain that it was the man who knocked on the door.


    And¡­


    There was no reply to El''s question.


    * * *


    *Gulp*


    By that time, El''s heart, which had barely managed to get out of its flighty mode, suddenly restarted itself giddily ¨C roaring awake.


    Sharpening his ear to listen, El caught the sound of wind blowing from outside the window, getting stronger by the second. ''It seems it was getting close to rain.''


    Taking his focus back to the matters at hand, El''s ears caught the low creaking sound of faint heavy footsteps coming from outside the door, getting clearer and drawing closer to his room, accompanied closely by the grind of something heavy being dragged on the floorboard.


    *Krrriiieettt¡­ Krrriiieeettt¡­ Krrrriiieetttt¡­*


    *Ssssaassaaakkk*


    *Thud*


    It ended with a heavy object thumping against the ground, located right in front of the door of his room.


    *Gulp*


    Swallowing his saliva, a cold sweat timidly covered El''s back, caressing him with the realization that there was something terribly wrong with what he currently faced.


    "El, are you there? Open the door?"


    It was the man''s voice, undoubtedly. Yet, for some reason El couldn''t understand, he perceived that there was something odd about the voice, along with the presence behind the door.


    It was¡­


    Eerie.


    And especially today, his sense to vaguely catch on people''s emotions around him was still heightened. So, how was it possible that what he discerned radiating from the other side of the door was nothing like what a human could possibly emit?


    It was filled with¡­


    Malevolence and ice-cold grudges.


    * * *

 8. Nothing Is Truly Free: Part 1

    * * *


    "El, are you there?"


    *Knock, knock, knock*


    "Hey, are you there?"


    *Knock, knock, knock*


    "Hello¡­ are you there?"


    *Knock, knock, knock*


    As the knock and the call periodically resonated, El himself stayed to keep his mouth shut while slowed down his breath. It was a hushed conundrum that left after.


    That was, until¡­


    *Knock, knock, knock*


    "You there, aren''t you?"


    *Knock, knock, knock*


    "Why don''t you call me back?" this time, there was a hint of impatient behind the tone. The knocks and the calls slowly went faster ¨C and even faster.


    *Knock, knock, knock*


    "Why???"


    *Knock, knock, knock*


    "Why, why, why, why, why, why?


    *Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock*


    "ACCCCCCCKKKKKKKK" at the end of it, the man''s hurried voice changed into a shriek, that of a shrill one ¨C penetrated the door and filled all the space inside the room with ear-splitting noises. It was so loud that it made El''s eardrum ring and his head dizzy, compelled him to have no choice but to tightly close his ear. A moment after, again, was a stillness that ensued. A quiet and tense atmosphere seemed to swallow the air itself, making it heavy and hard to catch a breath. El''s heart palpated inside his chest.


    Then out of nowhere, that same voice outside the door earlier was heard right at the side of El''s ear, as if someone was there with him, sitting right at the same bed, telling him in a whisper right on the side of his face ¨C glaring at him from behind. El could even feel the bizarre cold that intermixed with hot air blowing right on his ear, along with the stench of a rotting corpse.


    "Why?" this time, it was really clear to El as the malice and hatred behind that whole connotation was threatening to strike him at any moment''s notice. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.


    "Arrrgghhhhh¡­"


    El abruptly screamed, eyes open wide as he awakened from his dream, quickly forced his body to instinctually sit on the bed even when his sense of reality was not quite there yet.


    Gasping for air, El examined himself. He was still shuddering in horror from that experience. ''It was¡­ a dream?''


    Putting his palms to cover his forehead and one of his eyes, he once more widened his eyes. Swiftly jumps away, then lands hard on the floor of the room with his feet, he turns his sight to the bed where he rested earlier. And there was nothing.


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    That''s what he thought at first ¨C until a silhouette against the dim light with the shape of a head gradually resurfaced from his soft, springy bed as if it were a puddle of deep swamp. It started from the top of its pale and wet, bald head with many stitch marks that managed to shift the bedding and the blanket he left in there with an unknown force, up to the red eyes that finally showed itself ¨C glaring at El with all the animosity it contains.


    However ¨C once again this time, El jolted awake from his sleep.


    Precipitously opening his eyes, El adeptly sat and then went straight to a jump, springing away from his bed hastily. Turned his vision nervously to the place where that head was emerging, El discovered.


    Nothing this time.


    Waiting in a bated breath, perspiration ran down his forehead, eyes locked to the target, and with all of his five senses forcefully heightened to the maximum, to perceive if there was any other surprise occurrence that would proceed to catch him off guard again, by standing or staying right behind him. Or if there was another creepy, uncanny thing that he should be wary of, which going to startle and frighten him silly.


    Seconds subsequently turned into a minute. Then two and three minutes. Just as El wanted to exhale a relieved sigh, three knocks on the door successfully made him shudder on the spot.


    *Knock, knock, knock*


    ''Bloody hell¡­'' El clutched his chest, cursing inside his mind.


    "Boy, are you there? What''s happened??"


    "Ah¡­"


    Realizing the voice, the intonation, and the atmosphere this time was a plain one, El decided to stand up and slowly drew closer to the door. Holding onto the handle, and after finally gathering enough of his courage, El raises a question to the other side.


    "Is that you, sir???"


    "Yes, what''s happened? I heard noises coming from your room."


    *Cklek*


    Opened the door, El found himself face to face with the man.


    "What''s happened, boy? You look like someone seeing a ghost for the first time," the man''s eyes scanned the inside of the room, while weirdly remaining outside.


    "Nothing sir. Just, some bad dreams," El replied, his face pale, still rather out of breath, along with the sweat that soaked his shirt wet.


    "I see. Let me in then. There is something I wanted to tell you¡­"


    "Alright," El then made way for the man to come inside. Stepping into the room, the man briefly scrutinizes the messy bed. Looking upward for no apparent reason, he stayed like that for a couple of minutes.


    "What''s wrong sir?" following the man''s action, El also looked upward.


    His eyes directly widen in his socket. Because El found out that, there was a massive claw mark right at the ceiling. It was not there when he first time awoke in this room. El didn''t know what kind of animal or beast could¡¯ve done that and left that kind of mark, but one thing for sure was, whatever the thing that had left the trace in there, it was lucky for him to stay alive right now.


    Another thing for El to consider was that, if he were a normal human, he wasn¡¯t supposed to see that. Because other than one candle dimly brightened up part of the room, there was no other source of light. Observing the man, it seems like, he also could see that mark even under the darkness.


    Though his guard was still raised quite high even after being rather close with the man, truthfully, after experiencing this whole day with him, El was already slowly trusting that man. However, in spite of all that, the rationality inside his mind based on the logical approach in his current condition, was still pretty much operating just fine.


    He hadn¡¯t known who the man was, his origin, or the purpose behind his willingness to take care of an unknown boy like him. He also wondered how the man knew about his memory loss, which only a few villagers from his previous home were supposed to be aware of. Therefore, this time, he had to keep precaution at the top of his priorities, so as not to end up dead right away without putting up a fight.


    Living in the village, all the caring adults had always taught the kids from an early age that no gifts came without a price. They had not had a choice to live their lives any other way, as it was an ill fate that had brought them into the world during those troubled times. At least, that advice about ''nothing is truly free'' had given him and another boy a few more chances to keep living for more years than they were supposed to in the midst of starvation and conflicts.


    For all the reasons mentioned above, El eventually chose to pretend he did not know what the man had seen at that moment.


    * * *

 9. Nothing Is Truly Free: Part 2

    * * *


    Feigned a concern, El inquired, "What is the matter, sir? Is something wrong in there?"


    "¡­ nothing," the man replied. His expression was barely visible under the dim light of the candle. This was the case for most of the time ¨C if El had been a normal kid. But he wasn¡¯t. He could clearly see the former''s grim eyes.


    "I''m here to tell you something kid. I''m leaving¡­"


    "What? Leaving? Where?" El asked, feeling flustered. He never knew the impact of <i>''the man''</i> spending time on his side for just a single day could bother him this much.


    "I have some trouble at my job. I''ll be leaving first thing in the morning," the man said. El couldn''t discern any other emotion from his tone. And the feeling he gave also didn''t make much sense to him. As if, the man was in a hurry about something. <i>''Hurry for what exactly?'' ¨C </i>he didn''t know.


    "I see. Alright. Is it far?" El asked. Quite concerned for it seemed like, the man had come to a change of decision upon noticing the claw mark on the ceiling. It was a huge claw mark with three distinct lines, scratching the surface of the wood. El wonders if it had something to do with it.


    "Not really. I''ll be away, for, maybe a day or two. The longest will be, for the whole three days," while saying that, the man reaches out to his pants right pocket, which had a noticeable bulge. "Here is some money for you. It''ll be enough for three days, even if you choose to splurge on it."


    The man handed El a small pouch filled with silver coins, which were used throughout the territory of the Eschaton Empire as the basic monetary unit and the only valid medium of exchange within the empire. The coin itself was known in the empire as <i>''Riel''</i>, a name derived from a plant called <i>rye</i>, also referred to as, <i>the black wheat</i>. The name itself was steeped in history, and El knew about it from a few books he had read back in the village.


    "Remember this carefully, boy! Do not ever open the door no matter who you hear from, except if it is from me. Hold on a second; we might need some code or password that only both of us will know about. Follow me!" Taking the burning candle that was attached to a small white ceramic plate on the table, the man hurriedly walked outside, followed by El, who stayed in close proximity to him. A bit too close, actually, making the man raise his eyebrows in confusion when he found out that El was almost glued to his leg.


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    ¡®I¡¯m not scared. Just¡­ a bit wary if something weird happens again.¡¯ El reasoned inside his mind.


    Then, they arrived at one of the sections in the small house, in an equally small-sized, dusty kitchen that, <i>dear God</i>, seemed to have never been used for years. Drawing closer to one of the kitchen tables, the man approached a peculiar drawer. Its handle, oddly reminiscent of a bag lock, was oval-shaped, akin to an egg. He twisted the handle nine times, the mechanism clicking softly with each rotation. With a deft motion, he pushed left twice and right four times until a satisfying click signaled that the handle had disengaged from the drawer''s surface.


    Meanwhile, the man had to open it by grasping the dent on top of the drawer. He leaned in, a candle flickering in the dim light, casting shadows that danced across the walls. El watched awkwardly as the man feigned difficulty in the darkness, his movements exaggerated ¨C as if to draw El''s attention to his struggle. The man rummaged through the drawer, his fingers brushing past many objects until it finally stilled. He withdrew a peculiar glass vial, its triangular shape catching the candlelight in sharp, angular reflections. A small cork sealed its mouth, and within it, a viscous liquid swirled ¨C it was a shade so dark it teetered between black and the deepest crimson. El squinted, unsure if it was the light playing tricks on his eyes or if the substance itself defied an easy description.


    The man held the vial up close, his gaze narrowing as he studied it with an intensity that bordered on being pensive and dreary. Then, with a sudden, almost careless motion, he gave the vial a few brisk shakes that were <i>''not so gentle in a way.''</i> As the liquid inside sloshed against the glass, El''s heart began to jump in his throat as he felt uneasy about what the man had done. He didn¡¯t know why, but El had an inkling, that the liquid was awfully dangerous. On the other hand, a satisfied grin then tugged at the corners of the man''s lips.


    "Ah, this will do nicely," the man murmured, his tone laced with quiet triumph. Moreover, his manner of speaking was distinct from how he had talked beforehand, as though a sense of melancholy lurked in the present situation.


    "What is it, sir?"


    "This is something that Witches created to expel <i>''Creatures of the Darkness.''</i> How is it? Are you curious?" the man stated with playful intonation, causing El''s interest to grow beyond his comfort zone. The manner in which the man spoke also reverted back to how he used to be.


    "Witches? So, they are real. I thought it was just a fairytale passed in talk and gossip to scare children," El replied, feeling a bit surreal and mystified at the moment. Even though he once also heard from the man who kidnapped him that night, alongside many books he had read with themes such as children''s <i>''fairytales''</i> about magic, he simply thought the word <i>''Witch''</i> was just some kind of lame metaphor to quip about someone behind their back.


    "Oh, it was surprising for you to think like that. Anyway, let''s get back to your bedroom!"


    * * *

 10. When Everything Truly Began: Part 1

    * * *


    As they both returned to El¡¯s room, the man quietly closed the door behind him.


    "Stay close with me boy," he said solemnly to El while putting the candle back on the table.


    "Ok¡­" El replied briefly, sensing the tension emanating from him.


    Afterward, the man turned the wooden cork of the vial and pulled it open. Pouring a few drops of that unrecognizable fluid into one of his palms, he clenched that hand tightly while swiftly giving the vial and the cork to El who was currently at the side of his legs.


    "Close it tightly, boy!" the man said, with El quickly heeds his instruction and handling it with care.


    The man then brought his hands together, cupping them. Closing his eyes, he subsequently brought his palms close to his mouth, creating a hole between his thumbs. The man uttered something into his hands, which El could not understand, even though it still was the same familiar language. It was as if the meaning behind the words somehow inexplicably eluded itself from El''s mind, slipping through his ability to comprehend ¨C like water slithering through his fingers.


    Then in a voice barely above a whisper, the man began to speak. And at one and the same time, a chill raced down El''s spine, raising the fine hairs on the back of his neck, as if the very air around him had thickened with an unseen presence.


    In the books El once read in the village, Witches usually performed incantations to activate their spells. He wondered if what the man did was the same as what he had read at that time.


    <i>"Mortis umbrae, guide my hand,</i>


    <i>Conceal mine actions, as grains of sand.</i>


    <i>In this space, let none perceive,</i>


    <i>What I do, let them not believe."</i>


    As the man kept chanting the incantation, the longer it went, the more El indistinctly could feel the ambiance in the room turn to a shade even darker, as if there was a color that was even more black than the night itself.


    <i>"As thou dost speak, so shall it be,</i>


    <i>Hidden from sight, eternally free.</i>


    <i>By the power of darkness, I beseech thee,</i>


    <i>Let my deeds be lost, like whispers at sea."</i>


    A gentle wind blew aimlessly in the room, originating from an unknown dimension, caressing El''s skin with its cold, harrowing touch.


    El swore to himself that he could feel a pair of eyes observing him quietly from the very darkness, or perhaps from the shadows themselves. They seemed to come from many directions, yet he was certain they belonged to the same gaze. He felt a chill of death in those stares, as if something unknown, representing the end of Fate itself, desired to claim his breath ¨C much like the times he had teetered between life and death during the drought that plagued the village. With nothing to drink, he had ended up only unconscious from it. That experience was carved deeply into his memory.


    And now, El''s back was once again drenched in sweat while he shivered in place. On the other hand, the man''s clasped hands abruptly released an inky black smoke between his fingers. It drifted upward through the air, forming a spiral in its path.


    At last, the man said, <i>"A blood to thee, O lord. For a veil is all I entreat."</i>


    <b><i>{Veil of Shadows}</i> </b>


    After he uttered those final sentences, everything went still. The inky black smoke in the air formed a straight line that receded back to the man''s hand until there was nothing left. For those who couldn''t see in the darkness, there was nothing else left to it. However, El, who could see in the darkness, noticed that the shadows in the room seemed to change into something else, as if they were alive and sentient, wiggling abnormally in their place.


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    "Alright, all''s done and well executed. It''s been a long time since the last time I used it. Not really sure if it was going to be a success. But it is I who have done the deed. So, everything of course will be fine¡­" After delivering those pieces of sentences in a swanking and nonchalant manner, while gazing at El with a delighted smile, the latter could only return the look in a daze.


    ''You mean you''ve done all those thingy things making me shiver here, without knowing if you''ll succeed or not?'' El thought, feeling weird and uneasy about what the man did, as he couldn''t really fathom what he felt right now, whether he wanted to say it was cool and fascinating ¨C or downright eerie and unsettling. So, this time around, he decided to keep his mouth shut lest the man try another thing that seemed to be dangerous.


    As El gave him the earlier vial that had already been sealed back, the man raised it to his eyes and then carelessly and vigorously shook it a few times. Afterward, he shoved it into El''s hand.


    "I''ll teach you later how to use it when I''m back. And be careful with it¡­"


    "Alright."


    ¡®You are the one who¡¯s not careful with it¡­¡¯ El added inside his mind.


    "So, let''s go with the secret code this time. You need to ask first when someone knocks on the front door, or maybe they already arrived at your door."


    "Ok. What do I ask?"


    "You ask, ¨C Chicken???"


    "Chicken? Why chicken??"


    "No reason. Just feel like it."


    "¡­ ok then. I ask, ¨C Chicken???"


    "Yes. Then I answered, ¨C It wasn''t your time to crow yet, mister," the man said with a smirk under the candle lamp.


    "¡­ ok. So that''s the answer then," El said flatly.


    "¡­ ¡­ you are no fun at all, kid," the man replied with obvious dissatisfaction.


    "Is that supposed to be funny?" El asked, genuinely curious.


    "No. Ok, back to the secret code. You ask again at the door, ¨C Is there any sauce for the chicken, sir? and my answer is, ¨C It¡¯s velout¨¦ sauce, sir. Made of butter, flour, and chicken stock. And it''ll be even better if you add a splash of dry white wine. The consistency needs to be right, and don''t forget about the black pepper," the man stated with so much passion that El couldn''t hold back a question arising from the back of his throat.


    "So, what is this all about with chicken and the sauce?"


    "Ah, I''ve just craving it for some time now. I didn''t order it at the restaurant before because I already ate it last week. Anyway, when I''m back, we''re going there again, alright? I will show and explain to you about the restaurant itself. There is a reason why that restaurant is the most famous here, yet only the locals know about it. It was an epic tale, kid, I tell you¡­" the man mentioned with a smile hanging on his lips.


    "Okay then. I''ll wait for you here."


    "Do you remember the last code though? If it was different, don''t open the door. We need to stick to the intricacy and the finesse, kid. Should I write it down?"


    "No, I remember it. Don''t worry."


    "Ah, you are right? You are smart after all¡­" said the man, as if he was sure about what he was saying, making El curious about the memories that he had actually lost before.


    "Sir, I want to ask. How long do you think I have lost my memories? We had calendars at the village, but they were way outdated. I don''t know my birthday either, so how old do you think I am???" El asked with a glimmer in his eyes. There was a hint of a well-hidden pain behind his question.


    He did not even know his name, his date of birth, or whether he had any family at all. He did not know if his parents had abandoned him there by choice or if they had been lost to the cruel hands of Fate before leaving him behind. Or perhaps, more optimistically, they were still looking for him, desperately searching and hoping to reunite with him.


    But he would never know and would keep being oblivious to all of it. The ache of not knowing was a heavy burden he carried to this day. Yet deep down, he hoped his parents cared about him and still cared even now. For a reason, he had been left there, in the barren land where death was a shadow that attached itself closely to everyone''s head. He imagined them scouring ¨C traversing the desolate terrain, their hearts filled with determination, never giving up on finding the child they lost.


    But he knew part of the truth about it. The last children, other than him, who had died at the end of it ¨C had parents who were killed in the attack by the invaders. Everyone in that village had a history. Records could be traced in a dusty library, where birth certificates were hidden in a concealed compartment.


    But not him. No record whatsoever. He was an enigma, a ghost without a past. It was as if he had materialized from thin air, a baby left on the doorstep of a weary and starved kind couple he called uncle and aunt, growing up under their care, only for them to die trying to keep him alive. Until he was taken by the two elders, an evil grandfather and a cruel grandmother known to everyone in the village as people who fancied human meat. He had overheard their hushed tones speaking purposely at his side, perhaps out of pity.


    So now he had come to this point. At the very least, he wished to know through the man how old he was at that moment.


    ¡®That is not much of a wish, is it?¡¯


    * * *

 11. When Everything Truly Began: Part 2

    * * *


    "Sir, I want to ask. How long do you think I have lost my memories? We had calendars at the village, but they were way outdated. I don''t know my birthday either, so how old do you think I am???" El asked with a glimmer in his eyes. There was a hint of a well-hidden pain behind his question.


    The man raised his hands, intending to pat El''s head, but paused midway, his motion faltering. He clenched his lifted hand tightly and lowered it back to his side. Fixing his gaze on El, he said, "Your name is El. You should be thirteen by now. You''ve lost about six years of your memories ¨C that is all I know about you."


    Reaching into his pants pocket, the man pulled out an object and extended it toward El. Instinctively, El''s hands reached out to accept it.


    "Here, wear this. It''ll be quite good protection for you," he said, handing El an object that was cold to the touch.


    It was a necklace featuring a delicate bronze chain, adorned with a striking bronze ornament that cradled a captivating red jewel at its center, resembling an eye. As curiosity reigned over his mind, El raised it to his eye level and examined the jewel more closely. He subsequently noticed a swirling black haze deep within the red ruby, enhancing the overall appearance to that of a watchful eye that seemed to follow his gaze, creating an unsettling yet captivating effect that somehow drew his attention to it.


    "What is this, sir?" El asked, his curiosity piqued as he studied the amulet from every angle ¨C tilting it left, then right, and even peering at its back.


    "It''s an amulet, forged specifically into a necklace," he replied.


    "What, exactly is an amulet?" El inquired, still captivated.


    "You can think of it as ¨C a good luck charm, something that brings you a fortune as long as you keep it close," he explained.


    "And what do you mean by ''charm''?" El pressed, eager to understand.


    "A charm is a kind of object with magic inside of it," he said, eyes glinting with an indistinct hint.


    "I see¡­" El murmured, contemplating the secrets it might hold and how much it weighed in grams.


    "Is it the same as the vial you used earlier?"


    "More or less," the man said, tilting his head slightly to the side as a sign for vague clarification. "You like it?" the man resumed with a small smile.


    "Yes. It''s quite heavy. Interesting. And more importantly, it seems expensive. Are you sure you want to give this to me, sir?"


    "Of course. Don''t worry, it was something I used to bring all the time but never really used."


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    "You mean, you don''t need a charm for good luck, sir."


    "Hmm, if you are a man, and a strong adult like me who is tall, full of muscles, and a real fighter ¨C not like some <i>''bigmouth and a schemer''</i> I know of, there is no need for a piece of luck whatsoever. I can simply breeze through all of it with punches. If that is not enough, I will add even more punches to crush it."


    "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You brag a lot, sir," El replied, his tone flat as he also lowered his eyes, unimpressed by the man''s boastful claims.


    "What, you don''t believe me?" the man asked.


    "No¡­ do you think you can punch your way through that concrete building in the city? In a physics book I once read, a concrete wall achieves its remarkable hardness through a series of chemical reactions known as hydration. It has high compressive strength, ranging from 20 to 40 megapascals, and could reach even higher for specialized formulations. This strength is a measure of the material''s ability to withstand axial loads without collapsing¡­ ¡­ ¡­. In other words, the definite conclusion to all of my explanation earlier is ¨C the energy required to break the chemical bonds within the material far exceeds what a human can ever generate. So¡­ it''s impossible, sir!!?" El declared passionately, with his index finger raised in emphasis toward the ceiling, feeling a sense of triumph after his lengthy explanation. He then smiled mirthlessly at the man, who felt dizzy, overloaded by information.


    ''No wonder the man liked to brag so much. I never knew bragging about something you know and can do could be this satisfying,'' El thought, a wave of sweet satisfaction washing over him. He was pleased that all those hours spent in the village library were finally paying off.


    But then doubt crept in. ''Wait, is the man even saying something truthful though? Much of what he said doesn''t even make sense at all. Eating and barbecuing a fire-breathing lizard ten feet in size and whatnot. That couldn''t possibly be real, could it?'' El added inside his mind, skeptical of all the man''s bragging.


    "Sigh, you were a hopeless kid. I really can do it, alright," the man insisted.


    "¡­ hahaha. Hahaha. You are funny, sir," El replied, laughter bubbling up while he paused in between his laughter, treating it as a kind of joke.


    "Oh c''mon, even after seeing all that magic, you still don''t believe me?"


    "Even if magic is a real thing, all I read in the book is that they sacrificed humans or animals to the devils they worship. They can eject fire from their hands, burning a building. Or they can curse someone to death. I never heard or read about magic that could make someone strong physically."


    "Oh, wow kid. You are really smart, aren''t you? But don''t always go by the book. It sometimes can be misleading, alright?" the man advised.


    "Hmmm. I think books are always written by writers who know their way around that particular knowledge. Not just some random onset to write something. They are pioneers of literacy. They gave me so much knowledge outside of the village," truthfully, it was the first time he talked this much, and even felt slightly offended by the man when he said that books could mislead him.


    But what could he say? Books were what accompanied him in that village through all the pain in his stomach from hunger. The villagers said it was impossible to concentrate on anything, especially to learn something by reading a book if their stomachs were empty. But for El, it had never been a problem. Discovering a wealth of knowledge and information beyond the daily struggle for survival, he was truly grateful to those writers who took their time to write such books.


    Even if it was just a mere children''s fairytale, El could always derive some form of realization from it, making the next day and even more days ahead more bearable for him. And look where it had gotten him right now. He had survived it all, now living in a city, taken in by a man who was rather suspicious, but El believed he was a trustworthy one nevertheless ¨C and even enjoyed having a great meal. For El, this was a dream come true. At least, it felt that way to him.


    * * *

 12. When Everything Truly Began: Part 3

    * * *


    The man raised his eyebrows, then yielded under the stubborn, unwavering gaze of El.


    "Alright, alright. You''re right. Just don''t regret it later," he conceded, a hint of exasperation in his voice.


    "Hummpphhh¡­" El replied.


    "Tch, you kid. Started getting comfortable with me, aren''t you?" remarked the man, the edge of his lips raised into a teasing smile.


    "I''m always comfortable with you, sir," El replied earnestly.


    "Anyway, I''m leaving."


    "Now???" El''s voice plainly betrayed his reluctance to part ways, as he no longer bothered to hide his disappointment. The man had already become an integral part of his life in just one day, and there was a sadness at the edge of his throat, hanging inside, knowing he would be away for days.


    On the other hand, seeing El''s eyes glistening under the candlelight, the man looked away, tightening his gaze to avoid being swayed by El''s vague yet clear hopes for him to stay.


    "Yes, don''t go out when it''s dark outside. And arrive home before the day reaches the evening, or I won''t guarantee you will be safe by then," he said, changing the topic. He then paused, a thoughtful frown creasing his brows. "Hmmmmhh, now that I think about it, we don''t have a clock or any wristwatch, do we?"


    "There''s one in the plaza," El said calmly, his expression returning to normal like a facade of masks, hiding his despondency.


    Recalling their earlier stroll through the night market, the vibrant stalls, and the enticing aromas still fresh in his mind, El resumed his string of words. "I''ll just check on that big clock then."


    The man reached into his pocket once again, retrieving another small bag. From within, he produced a golden coin, its surface gleaming in the dim light as he tried to press it into El''s palm.


    "Mister, I don''t think I need this," El protested, instinctively putting his palms forward, refusing to receive it. The many silver coins were already too much for him; adding more would leave him incredibly indebted.


    "Well, just use it to buy a small watch at the market. You''ll find the shop near the intersection where we went to the market that evening. I know for sure you remember the way, right?" the man insisted, pulling El''s hands forcefully and then firmly placing the coin in the latter''s hand.


    "Uh¡­"


    "Just take it, boy. Your safety now is in my hands¡­"


    "¡­ alright¡­ wait, what do you mean by my safety is in your hands?" El asked, curiosity mixed with perplexity.


    "Nothing. Anyway, I''m leaving. Don''t go out of your door when it is already night. To be more specific, make sure you are back home before it''s five o''clock in the evening, understood???" The man''s tone was serious, his sight locking onto El''s eyes with an intensity that brooked no argument.


    "Okay. Understood¡­" El replied briefly.


    With a final glance, the man turned away and opened the door. Just as he did so, a sudden breeze swept into the room, carrying with it an unfamiliar chill that sent a shiver down El''s spine. It was a coldness, unlike anything he had ever experienced, stirring memories of a strange sensation from a dream he had long forgotten.


    The breeze danced through the room, then retreated swiftly as if it had come only to deliver a message. Or maybe, it had come and gone just to bring something with it. El watched quietly as the shadows within the room stilled, their restless movement somehow ceasing with the wind''s departure.


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    After closing the door, the man engaged in an unseen action outside, a faint sound reaching El''s ears ¨C resembling the brushing of something against the door''s surface. And then, silence enveloped the room.


    El, feeling the weight of the moment settles around him, subsequently crawled back to his bed. He closed his eyes, allowing the worries of the day to fade into the background. This time, sleep claimed him swiftly, enveloping him in its embrace until the morning light of the next day broke the horizon.


    * * *


    As dawn broke in the gentle embrace of morning light, the sky above stretched wide and clear, painted in soft hues of blue. The air was filled with the cheerful chirping of birds as their songs took flight, their melodies weaving through the gentle rustle of leaves. People strolled along the pathways in the city, some briskly heading to work, while others, including a few elderly souls, took leisurely walks, savoring the crisp morning air as they engaged in light exercise.


    Subsequently, the scene gradually shifted, zooming into a quaint alleyway where a small, one-story wooden house stood. Its weathered exterior was adorned with patches of peeling paint and tattered shingles. Meanwhile, El was located in his room, sitting on the wooden chair where he was absorbed in his writing.


    The soft creak of the chair accompanied his focused movements, while scattered books lay on the table, their pages fluttering open. Sunlight filtered through a nearby window, casting gentle shadows that danced across the space, illuminating the cozy yet slightly messy room.


    Stopping his hand in the middle of his motion, El leaned back in his chair, letting out a weary sigh that escaped his lips. He tucked his pen behind his ear and gazed up at the ceiling, where a jagged claw mark marred the plaster ¨C it was a silent trespasser that had taken up residence there without so much as an apology or a thought to pay its dues.


    "Sigh, it''s not like I''m paying the bill myself," he muttered under his breath, a hint of irony lacing his words.


    "I wonder if I''m starting to go crazy, or if I just miss that uncle."


    It had been a week since ''that man'' he now called uncle, had vanished into the night, leaving El to navigate the solitude of this house alone. Yet, fortune seemed to be smiling kindly upon him ¨C if he were to say it ¨C as his frugality had served him well this time; for how a poor kid like him managed home finances.


    The bag of ''silver riel'' gifted by the man that night still brimmed with coins, more than half untouched, with only a few silvers spent over the past seven days.


    In stark contrast to his days of hunger in the village, where every meal was a real struggle between life and death, the simple act of eating in moderation felt like a luxury and a bliss in itself. Even the cheapest bread in the city was a <i>''gracious revelation''</i> of how delicious it was ¨C compared to the tree bark, grass, and sun-dried innards of trees that had once constituted his daily meal. The best fare from all of it in the village had been wheat stalks ¨C often devoid of grain ¨C which now seemed to be a distant memory to him.


    ''It tastes weird too,'' El thought, a wry smile tugging at his lips. He and one other last kid in the village always had a <i>dust-up''</i>


    over those stalks as they could keep them fuller for a whole day than the other foods. He never knew until he was here ¨C living in the city ¨C that those <i>''things''</i>


    were not even considered food at all.


    Though he indeed admitted, that he sometimes really wanted to eat until his stomach was about to burst, just like when he ate with that man. He reasoned that this was something only those who had been on the brink of death due to starvation would understand.


    With a deliberate motion, he removed the pen from behind his ear and closed the notebook filled with his thoughts. He tidied the table and then set about organizing the entire room; each action was a kind of small ritual to reclaim his space.


    And that was a cool way to defend himself from leaving his bed strewn around like that. Well, he readily acknowledged being a messy guy, as he never once bothered to tidy up anything upon waking up ¨C since there was essentially nothing where he used to sleep before.


    "Alright, time to go!" he said after completing the <i>''rare tidying''</i> that took half an hour.


    Taking his gray jacket from the top rail of the chair, he rummaged through the pocket and extracted the wristwatch with the steel chain, then peered at it. El nodded to himself.


    ''Just at the right time. I have a good feeling today that the uncle at the bakery will give me another discount,'' he thought, with an expectant smile hanging on his lips.


    This time, though, he decided to venture outside, as he had resolved to visit the restaurant once more. For these past few days, his routine had revolved around reading, writing, and wandering the streets of Mirthwater City. He kept his explorations close to home, still being mindful of the man''s advice to return before the sun dipped below the horizon at five o''clock.


    <i>And today ¨C was the day when everything truly began for him.</i>


    * * *

 13. Fight Or Flight: Part 1

    * * *


    As El stepped out of the door, just like any other day when he ventured outside the house, he instinctively glanced toward the side where the steel barbed wire fence stood silently, with some rust adorning its surface, casting a haunting shadow over the area. It was a harrowing ambiance for anyone who had a glimpse out of it. Meanwhile, the alleyway beyond the fence presented a grim and distant sight. Puddles of stagnant water dotted the path, and on particularly fine days, El would spot rats scurrying about. They were big yet also bony, with matted, dirty fur. Their squeaks echo in the air. The sunlight rarely reached this part of the alley, making it feel even more foreboding than it already was. After gaining a moment of this weird satisfaction from the unsettling view, El turned away.


    Before El could even step fully outside the alley, he heard a commotion rising from the street.


    ''What happened?'' he wondered to himself, frowning.


    He had been cooped up in the house for three days, reading books and writing in his notebook, which had turned into some sort of diary at that point, leaving him unaware of the events that might be unfolding in the city. He quickened his pace as the clamor swelled even louder, a cacophony that surged toward his ears.


    Finally, he emerged onto the street, where rows of people moved in unison, all heading in the same direction. What struck El as particularly peculiar was the sea of black button-down shirts and long-sleeved garments paired with dark trousers. It was as if an unspoken agreement had swept through the crowd, compelling them to don this somber attire on this day, creating a striking tableau of shared purpose and muted sorrow. There was also a murmur of voices rising above the oppressive silence that hung in the air. He felt a peculiar mix of fortune and misfortune ¨C for today, his <i>''inscrutable senses''</i> seemed to be heightened, reminiscent of the time he spent with ''that man.''


    The somber atmosphere enveloped him like an unseen, heavy shroud, and he could detect the simmering anger beneath the surface of the crowd, a collective indignation about something he could not quite grasp. What was the situation, exactly? He didn''t know. Yet, he understood that the weight of their shared emotions was potent enough to leave him breathless, accompanied by occasional sharp pangs of pain that stabbed at his chest.


    Approaching one of the middle-aged men who walked with knitted eyebrows, wearing the same outfit as everyone else, El asked him about the situation politely.


    "Excuse me, sir, I want to know what is actually happening. Where are people walking to?"


    After inspecting El carefully, the man replied solemnly, "Go back to your home, little boy! This isn''t for a kid like you."


    Swiftly contemplating the best course of action in his mind, El raised his question again, his eyes pleading with the middle-aged man, eager for more information.


    "Please, sir, I want to know. My parents didn''t tell me anything¡­"


    "No¡­ go back to your home! Listen to your parents, kid¡­" the man stated firmly, refusing to be swayed by the pitiful boy with his pretty emerald eyes that somehow slightly gleamed even in the daylight, reminding the man of his daughter and son at home.


    "Please, sir, please!" El kept begging, this time with his palms clasped together.


    "No¡­" he replied briefly.


    "Alright then¡­" El''s pitiable expression melted away in an instant, replaced by a blank, unreadable mask. His gaze dropped, the faintest shadow of discontent flickering across his face. Without another word, he turned on his heel, leaving the man staring after him, bewildered. The man, who had never witnessed such a swift and deliberate shift in demeanor, stood frozen ¨C as if rooted to the spot.


    El, however, moved on quietly, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on a young woman ¨C a striking figure with a kind, approachable air. Without hesitation, he made his way toward her.


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    "Excuse me, big sis?" El said with a respectful tap on the woman''s shoulder.


    "Yes?" the woman replied as she turned around to face him, finding El whose height only reached her eyes.


    "Can you tell me what is actually happening? Where is everyone walking to right now?"


    The woman''s expression immediately fell after hearing El''s question, exuding sadness. "It was. Do you know that famous restaurant called Merriment, Little Brother?"


    "Ah, what happened to them?" asked El in shock. It felt as though a jolt of electricity was rising from the top of his head to the rest of his body. Merriment Restaurant ¨C of course, he knew that place. It was the very same eatery where he had eaten in this city for the very first time with that mystery uncle, also where he met with kids from the underside. And today, it just so happened he wanted to revisit that restaurant.


    The woman lowered her head, her eyes brimming with slight tears as she continued walking, following the throngs of people. "They. All of them who work there will be executed today¡­"


    "What???" El exclaimed, his voice promptly growing louder, causing the woman to flinch in surprise at his outburst of emotion. A few pedestrians around them also turned their eyes toward them upon hearing El''s cry of surprise.


    On the other hand, El''s heart sank in that instant.


    "So, you know that place too? I guess that restaurant will always be the most famous here in this city after all, heh heh¡­" the woman stated dejectedly. She wanted to chuckle woefully at the end but instead ended up with an awkward, ugly smile. However, even that smile didn''t last long as she couldn''t bring herself to lift the edge of her trembling lips, as the terrible tragedy of the day was too much for her.


    "W-what. What is actually happening? You are joking, right? Hahahaha, yes, you are joking. Maybe I heard it wrong earlier¡­" El responded with a mirthless laugh, still unable to believe what he had heard from the woman. In fact, it was more as if he was refusing to accept what she had said.


    "Kid, what did I tell you earlier? Go back home!!!" It was the first man whom El had asked about it. The uncle followed him here and put his hand on El''s shoulder. Even though his words were harsh, his hand on El''s shoulder, which wanted to guide him away from the crowd, was gentle as he nudged El to go back to his <i>''supposed parents.''</i>


    "No, sir. I''m sorry. I want to know more," El said, his voice steady yet resolute. He turned to face both the uncle and the young woman. His emerald eyes locked onto theirs with an intensity that was both fierce and unyielding.


    The man started to get swayed, and the woman pushed the final nail with her words as the uncle relented in the end. "It''ll be known throughout the entire city tomorrow anyway, sir. Might as well tell him. The kid seems to know the restaurant too¡­"


    After closing his eyes and contemplating for a few seconds, the man stared at El, whose gaze was stubborn. "The restaurant was visited by important guests of the mayor three days ago. I heard they offended one of them, someone of noble lineage. It was still not confirmed yet, just vague words of mouth. But still, today is the day they are to be executed in the front yard of the mayor''s office¡­"


    The young woman interjected from the side. "But I also heard different versions of it. They said ¨C it was because the mayor purposely investigated the owner''s background and found out about his lineage," she hesitated for a bit before resuming. "They mentioned that he is coming from the underside. His parents, they said. I''m not too sure myself."


    "Nonsense¡­" the man retorted, struggling to contain his frustration and anger as he allowed the young woman to finish. "Everyone''s registered from their childbirth in this city. There is no way the old man could have built the restaurant if he was from the underside. You know what? I''m sure it was those pompous noble bast¡­" The man abruptly halted his words upon noticing El, who remained in place, listening attentively.


    "I''ve heard another version, though," a voice chimed in from behind El. Turning around, El''s sight met the eyes of a petite young woman.


    She wore a grayish-blue formal uniform adorned with a golden badge on her upper arm and a shield motif on her chest. A hat and gloves completed her attire, along with a short metal rod that hung at her waist. She continued her words. "I heard it''s because the owner was proven to be connected with a thief who stole something from the mayor''s office. It was important enough that even a Vanguard like me was dispatched here to investigate it."


    "Ah, you are. I apologize, ma''am. I didn''t mean to speak so rashly about the nobility," the man said, his voice trembling as he bowed slightly from fear and trepidation. The woman beside him also stepped back, clearly intimidated.


    "Relax, uncle, sister. I was born as a commoner here in Mirthwater. I''m not like those people from the capital," the Vanguard woman said with a reassuring smile, attempting to ease their wariness.


    "Oh, I see. It''s good then," replied the man, hesitating and still not believing the woman.


    "Wait, where is the boy?" the young woman suddenly asked, realizing El was no longer with them.


    "I saw him going there. It''s fine. It''s better if the kid goes back to his parents," the Vanguard woman stated while pointing to her back, indicating the direction where El was currently running back to the alley from where he emerged earlier.


    * * *

 14. Fight Or Flight: Part 2

    * * *


    Arriving at the house, El hastily unlocked the door and rushed inside, going straight to his room. He rummaged through the drawer on the study table until he finally found what he intended to retrieve. It was a map. A simple creation made by his own hand with a pencil on a piece of cheap white paper. He had copied it from a large map that was displayed on an equally large wooden board in the plaza, a place that was always bustling with visitors in this city. He hadn''t yet fully examined the map though ¨C because he had been preoccupied with reading many other books, so he carelessly left it tucked away in a drawer. Now, however, he needed it. He quickly tried to memorize the relevant parts, especially focusing on the directions to the mayor''s office.


    It was such a lucky fortuity too though, cause¡¯, since waking up in this room for the very first time that day, he somehow had not yet experienced any memory lapses that plagued him in the village. Back then, despite his extensive reading and the knowledge he accumulated, he would sometimes ¨C or at times often ¨C based on whether he was lucky or not, lose chunks of his memories out of nowhere without any warning. This left him often feeling disoriented and disconnected from reality.


    Now, to the matters at hand, once El had committed the path to his memory, he swiftly brushed everything back to its place. Stepping away from the bedroom and the house, he locked the door behind him and stepped outside. He walked down the narrow alleyway, pulling on his hoodie and then donning a black mask that he had found in the drawer for unknown reasons ¨C perhaps purposely left. Who knew¡­


    As he walked, he suddenly veered off the original path that led to the main road, taking a different route. Finding the streets deserted, he quickened his pace.


    After spending considerable time reading various books from the wooden bookshelf in his room, he had learned that the house where he lived, along with the alleyway he was traversing right now, served as a dividing line between the two regions in the city, known as the <i>''underside''</i> or the Downtrodden region ¨C and the <i>''upper side,''</i> where the more normal citizens resided in Mirthwater.


    As he finally moved further and further away from the house, he unexpectedly encountered five individuals who blocked his path unintentionally. They were startled at first, having heard footsteps approaching their secluded spot where they often relaxed. Their initial reaction was one of fear; they assumed that guards from the upper side had come to cause trouble, as it happened many times before. A few guards, with their peculiar tendencies and weird fetishes, often took pleasure in harassing or beating up people from the underside.


    So, this group initially planned to flee the area as fast as possible, as individuals from the underside were not permitted to be outside of the fences according to the regulations. However, one of the individuals soon realized that the figure approaching them was just a small kid wearing a gray jacket and a black mask. El, as he had come to know himself, was acutely aware of his own stature. He understood that he was quite short for his age, compared to the other residents of the city. From his readings, he had learned a lot of children who did not receive proper nutrition during their formative years often ended up stunted in growth.


    Now here he was, standing before people who, just from their demeanor alone, or perhaps from their pale, sickly looks, were rather average in height and scrawny frames ¨C he understood right away that they were people from the underside.


    "Bloody fockin'' hell, kid, you scared us," one of the men exclaimed loudly, causing the others of his buddies, who had been preparing to flee, to turn their heads in surprise. One of them, who was the first to run away and was now quite far from the others, glanced back nervously upon hearing the cry.


    * * *


    As the others realized that it wasn''t the guard, they returned to their original position, this time intentionally blocking the road.


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    "What are you doing here, you little b*stard? If you don''t give me a good reason, let''s see how I''m going to whip your little ass like the sack of rice you are!" The man''s glare of anger was directed at El, as he was the first to recognize the latter.


    El suddenly appeared, making those harrowing footsteps in the empty alleyway, and then finally revealed himself at the intersection. After gasping for air and clutching his chest, he yelled at him, resentment dripping clearly from his voice.


    "Excuse me, I need to get through!" El stated, bowing slightly once, also feeling a twinge of sympathy for him. He wondered if the man nearly had a heart attack from the earlier shock.


    "Wait¡­" one of the men beside the first man promptly spoke up. "Open your goddamn mask!!" he ordered.


    "What is it?" the first man leaned closer, whispering to the second.


    "Look at his clothes! They''re too clean. And look at his eyes!" the second man pointed at El''s attire.


    "Hmmmm¡­" the first man contemplated, slowly grasping the implication. "Ahh, you mean¡­ you suspect a kid. This kid??? Coming from the upper side? The city?" he wore a ridiculing smile as he continued.


    "Haaaa, you''re funny, bro! Why did I just know about it now? There is no way a kid from the upper side would dare to come in here alone. Even just getting close to the fences is something they''re afraid of. Their parents must be telling all their kids each night for their <i>''bedtime story''</i> that we actually are demons¡­ ghosts, or something that will eat them alive. I''m sure it is." El could clearly feel the bitterness behind the man''s words.


    The second man''s lips flattened at this, but his gaze remained fixed on El, dismissing the first man''s claims. "Open it!! Now!!!"


    Not knowing what came over him at that moment, El decided to heed the man''s order anyway, as he removed his hoodie and mask. What was revealed behind it was El''s face, with his clean and healthy skin, not like the supposed complexion shared by all the people living on the underside.


    "See!!?" the second man exclaimed.


    "¡­ Waa¡­ what are you doing here? A kid from the city dares to come to this place? Have you lost your mind?" the first man''s bewilderment was evident on his face. And for unknown reasons, he started to lick his lips.


    "What do we do with him?" another man asked from behind the two.


    "Of course, we let him go¡­ what else is there to it? Do you want to deal with the city''s guards? Hell no¡­" commented the first man.


    "No, we bring him with us. From his looks alone, his family must be rich. One of us will be the good guy and report this to the city''s guard, while the rest of us will stay watching over this kid. He¡¯ll become our hostage from now on. We ask his family for ransom by then¡­" the second man said, his expression harsh and unsmiling.


    "Are you crazy?" the first man expressed loudly ¨C his mouth wide open.


    "No, I''m not," replied the second man briefly.


    "What if they come after our heads? They will shoot us dead. Do you think they won''t do that???" his face was etched with fear and distress.


    "They won''t. If you don''t dare, leave, Sill. We can do it on our own. Remember, once we get the money, you won''t have any share," pressed the second man while eyeing him from the corner of his eyes.


    Meanwhile, the others behind the two quietly exchanged glances, neither denying nor arguing against the devised idea of making El their hostage.


    "... I¡­ sigh. Alright then. I''m in. I hope there won''t be anything wrong again this time," the first man, named Sill, finally gave up, deciding to go ahead with the plan.


    "Do not resist," the second man, who had started this whole scheme, then approached El with a glare. As his hand reached out to grab El''s shoulder, El instinctively dodged to the side.


    "What are you doing? I just want to get through," El conveyed with a frown.


    "Don''t fight back. Come with us!!!" Sill responded.


    "I don''t want to¡­" El replied as he stepped back, creating distance. ''Why would I? Are you an idiot?'' El added in his mind while contemplating whether he needed to step up his game by ''fighting'' or immediate ''flight.''


    "Wow, kid¡­ you didn''t hear us before, did you? You are our hostage now, and you will remain so until we get the money from your parents! And we need a lot of that!!" Sill replied, his voice inexplicably laced with anger as he stepped closer to El, his eyes threatening to unleash the beast lurking within. Just as his hand reached out to grab El''s shoulder, the latter instinctively punched it away, striking him right on the wrist.


    *Bam*


    "Oucccchhhhh! What the freak..." Sill cried out in pain, grimacing as he clutched the spot where El had hit him.


    El readied himself, with his hands awkwardly positioned in front of his face. He didn''t know how to fight, and for the fact, he surely had never even been in one himself as much as he remembered. Yet, here he was. For whatever reason he couldn''t explain, he didn¡¯t want to run away. This time, he would braze it all.


    * * *

 15. Fight Or Flight: Part 3

    * * *


    El readied himself, with his hands awkwardly positioned in front of his face. He didn''t know how to fight, and for the fact, he surely had never even been in one himself as much as he remembered. Yet, here he was. For whatever reason he couldn''t explain, he didn¡¯t want to run away. This time, he would braze it all.


    When these people from the underside discussed blatantly right in front of him about how they wanted to kidnap him, his heart began to race. It felt as if it was growing hotter ¨C or perhaps colder. He didn''t know how to explain or quite articulate the sensation either. It felt like his heart was beating hard for no reason ¨C just from the anticipation of the fight he was about to get into right now.


    One thing for sure, though, was that¡­


    He was excited.


    He felt a strange thrill coursing through him, yet he remained acutely aware of why he was there. He wanted to reach the mayor''s office to witness the execution and understand what had gone wrong with the restaurant that had led them to such dire consequences.


    "Get him!" shouted the second man, whose name was Glam, as he remained in his place, silently observing Sill. He noticed Sill''s hand was red and slightly swollen from El''s earlier punch, making him concurrently wary of El.


    The others from the underside approached El with malicious intent, determined to hurt him. One man attempted to slap El''s face hard, but El dodged just in time, narrowly avoiding the blow. Just as he had done with Sill, he retaliated ¨C this time striking the man on the side of his elbow that was still in the slapping motion.


    *Bam*


    "Arrgh!" the man cried out, stumbling to the side and grimacing against the wall while clutching his elbow.


    The others, witnessing this, quickly shifted their strategy. They launched a flurry of real kicks and punches, while still trying to avoid being too aggressive or lethal with their attacks.


    This time, though, El found himself struggling to keep up. Just as he prepared to counterattack, he had to dodge another punch or kick aimed at him. Yet, his heart continued to race, as if something dormant within him that had been sleeping all this time was slowly awakening.


    From deep within his heart, bluish veins with hints of purple began to surface, clawing their way out to the outside, gradually visible on his chest. It spread from one point, crawling curiously as everything around El slowed down in a fraction of a moment. There were many times when he could have struck back at his opponents, but he found himself too distracted by the overwhelming sensations flowing all over his senses.


    On the other hand, outside of El''s mind and sight, the others who were currently attacking him, including Sill, Glam, and the man who had been hit by El ¨C now watching the fight unfold, were all flabbergasted and baffled. They couldn''t comprehend how El managed to dodge all of their attacks ¨C with the guys taking turns or straight together trying to hit him. It seemed utterly impossible. Just like when Glam thought that the kick from one of the men would connect with El''s rib, the latter still managed to dodge it by spinning weirdly on the spot with his feet as the pivot, his body leaning forward and then rotating fast ¨C away from the kick.


    "What the freaky f*ck is that???" Glam exclaimed, astonished, as the others paused their assault momentarily, equally stunned.


    But their moment of disbelief was short-lived, as they resumed their attempts to strike El. Yet, he continued to evade them ¨C trapped in a trance within his mind, where everything around him moved sluggish and rather predictable. Without El knowing, his movements became even faster and smoother. His muscle memory finally recalled something he had forgotten, so it only needed to lead in the way where a path was already paved in front of it.


    Suddenly, a shout from a young girl echoed through the alley, abruptly halting their fight.


    "What are you all doing here?"


    As her voice resonated, the fighting came to an immediate stop.


    Even El, who had been lost in a trance, snapped back to reality upon hearing her. Everyone turned toward the source of the voice, and to El''s surprise, he recognized her. She was the girl he had seen from his table in the restaurant, emerging from the shadows of the alleyway alongside a boy and several other small kids who had come after the food.


    She approached from an intersection opposite to where El had originated, moving out from the deeper, darker part of the alleyway.


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    ¡°I asked what¡­ oh¡­¡± As she drew closer and caught sight of El, her gaze swept over the breathless group, noting Sill clutching his injured hand and Glam being the usual <i>''cautious damned''</i> he was.


    ¡°What do you all intend to do with him? You must be out of your mind! Let me guess, this was Glam¡¯s idea again, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    The others exchanged furtive glances, avoiding her piercing stare. Glam replied defensively, ¡°We need money. What better opportunity do we have right now with a kid from the upper side here?¡±


    ¡°And what if the guards come? Who will deal with them? You?¡± she retorted, sarcasm dripping from her words.


    ¡°I have a plan. As long as we¡¯re careful, everything will be fine,¡± Glam insisted, his frown deepening.


    ¡°Ha! Do you mean the plan from the other day when you and the others almost got caught? Is this going to be the same scheme as before¡­¡± she narrowed her eyes, confronting Glam''s decision.


    Suddenly, El interjected, raising his hand high. ¡°Excuse me. I think we have an actual problem. I¡¯m not from around here. I mean, I¡¯m not from the upper side or even the city.¡± He went on to explain that he hadn¡¯t been born in Mirthwater but came from a village far away, located on the border between the Eschaton Empire and another kingdom whose name he didn¡¯t know. It was a free territory, somehow not officially recognized by either the Empire or the other kingdom.


    He deliberately omitted details about his lost memories ¨C or the fact that his village had been a war-torn region for as long as he remembered. There was also a truth that its residents had refused to acknowledge for years: they would all face death sooner or later, either from hunger, thirst, disease, or bandits. Another thing that made it worse was that the war, for reasons unknown ¨C though some whispered it was due to witches ¨C had rendered the land barren, killed all crops, and turned fruit-bearing trees into sources of poison. Even the seeds that were planted ¨C all perished, unable to survive long enough to sprout.


    ¡°What? So, it means we... no, you are being dumb then?¡± Sill remarked after hearing El¡¯s brief summary of who he actually was. His gaze was fixed on Glam, who appeared sullen under the weight of the others¡¯ stares. Glam had been the one to initiate the plan to kidnap El and demand a ransom from his supposed parents, and now the scrutiny was palpable.


    ¡°You were the one who was dumb. How did I even know he was from the outside? He didn¡¯t even say anything when he heard us wanting to kidnap him,¡± Glam defended himself, pointing an accusatory finger at El. ¡°It¡¯s this kid¡¯s fault. Why didn¡¯t you say anything before, you freaky b*stard? You must be purposely picking a fight, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    The truth was, El felt tempted to agree with that accusation. He had, in fact, been looking forward to the confrontation, which was why he had kept silent. However, after weighing the pros and cons, he chose to remain quiet and blinked his eyes repeatedly, allowing himself to appear as the innocent lamb, which only made Glam glare at him even more intensely.


    ¡°You¡­¡± Glam started to approach El, but Sill caught his buddy by the shoulder.


    ¡°Calm your butt, Glam. It¡¯s indeed your fault this time!¡± he whispered in Glam¡¯s ear. ¡°Besides, do you think you could even land a hit on him?¡±


    ¡°Tchh¡­ anyway, you¡¯re also agreed with the plan!?¡± Glam said, now scowling at Sill too.


    ¡°Not me who talks. Not me who plans. It¡¯s all on you, bro. Besides, I was the very first to suggest letting him go¡­¡± Sill said, shrugging his shoulders and gesturing with his hands to indicate he had nothing to do with the initiation of the plan, and all the blame was on Glam.


    ¡°Maybe the kid is lying. Look at his face. I bet his family is rich¡­¡± Glam insisted.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have a family, though. The person who brought me here has been missing for a whole week now,¡± El interjected.


    ¡°Uh¡­ you¡¯re lying¡­¡± taken aback, Glam responded ¨C still glowering at El.


    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough. By the way, what were you doing here?¡± this time, the girl directed the question to El.


    ¡°Ah, right. I wanted to go to the mayor¡¯s office. You were there too, right? Merriment Restaurant???¡± El mentioned to the girl about the time when they had caught a glimpse of each other in the restaurant. He continued, "I heard the people who work at that ''restaurant'' will be executed today."


    The alleyway then fell into an uncomfortable stillness, their expressions turned downcast and bleak.


    After a few moments had passed with El fidgeting in conscience-stricken, the girl broke the silence, her voice cutting through the gloom. ¡°That¡¯s about right. We wanted to go there too. Come with us.¡±


    ¡°Is it fine?¡± El asked, suppressing his curiosity about whether they were really close to the people who worked at that restaurant, given their sudden shift in attitude upon hearing about the execution.


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s fine. Come with us?!¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± El replied, walking steadily and calmly to the side of the girl, while the others exchanged glances before following El and the girl.


    On the other side, Glam glared not only at El¡¯s back but also at the girl. He only managed to shake off his emotions and follow the others after Sill tapped him on the chest with the back of his hand.


    ¡°My name is Ran, by the way. What about you?¡± Ran said, extending her hand to El in a gesture of greeting. Contrary to her cold demeanor, she seemed quite warm in El¡¯s opinion, even without a smile on her face.


    ¡°Ah, my name is¡­ my name is El¡­¡± El replied after a moment¡¯s hesitation. He almost blurted out the name Gabriel but fortunately managed to hold it back. He realized he felt genuinely happy when she asked about his name, and even more so when he told Ran about it. He wondered why.


    ¡®Maybe because I didn¡¯t have a name before,¡¯ he recalled, remembering that in the village, everyone had called him¡­


    ¡®Damn, I can¡¯t remember,¡¯ El thought, feeling a wave of depression wash over him. Yet on the outside, he managed to squeeze out a smile as he welcomed Ran¡¯s hand with a shake. He felt fortunate that the late auntie had taught him about handshakes. She had cared for him in the village like her own son from the moment he was a baby.


    ¡°Just El?¡± Ran inquired.


    ¡°Yes, just El. How about you? Just Ran?¡± El asked in return, curious about her.


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­ I guess so¡­¡± she answered vaguely ¨C her voice trailing off.


    * * *

 16. Ralrain, One Of the Four Vassal States: Part 1

    * * *


    El''s thought deepened as he asked Ran a question concerning the matters at hand. "So, what do you know about the people in the restaurant? Why? What was their actual crime?"


    Ran glanced at El from the corner of her eye. "Many versions are circulating, not only in the city but also in the underside. I''m not sure myself which one is true. One thing is certain, though: it has something to do with the nobility, as there is no trial to determine whether the accusations are right or not."


    "I see¡­" El struggled to find words in response. His understanding of the nobility in the Eschaton Empire and their commoners was only superficial, gleaned from the books lining the shelves of his room. There was no mention of the underside, the upper side, or the history between the two, save for what <i>''the man''</i> had told him that day in the restaurant.


    Continuing their journey, Ran suddenly posed a question to El. "You saw that female staff in the restaurant, right? The one who brought me and the others to eat?"


    "Yes, I saw her," El nodded his head.


    "She is already dead," Ran stated flatly, her expression unchanged.


    "What???" the revelation struck El like a jolt of electricity, coursing through him from his toes to the top of his head.


    "It was three days ago when the others brought the news. Her body was hanged right in front of the mayor''s office." Ran turned her face toward El.


    Despite her current impassive demeanor, El sensed turbulence of emotions roiling beneath the surface. It was¡­ fury. An intense rage radiated from Ran, evident even in her eyes. No, it wasn''t just her; even without looking back, El could feel the cold anger emanating from the others behind him and Ran.


    After a silence that stretched for nearly two minutes, El finally found his voice. "¡­ I¡­ I¡­ why??" the words tumbled out of his mouth, a reflection of his confusion and turmoil within.


    Without answering El''s vague question, Ran shifted the topic. "That woman''s name was Rima. Her biological sister is currently living with us on the underside. We don''t know who spilled the beans to her about big sis Rima, so we had to tie her up in our base. She''s passed out twice already from crying, yet she keeps trying to escape to the city."


    El fell silent, his gaze fixed on the ground as he followed Ran''s steps.


    "You must be wondering why I''m telling you this, right?" Ran asked, turning her head to meet his gaze.


    "¡­ Yes¡­" El replied, locking eyes with her. His emerald eyes met her grayish ones.


    "I wanted to see if what you said earlier was true. Now I''m sixty percent sure you''re not from here."


    "¡­ Based on what?" El inquired.


    "Your eyes!"


    "My eyes??"


    "Yes¡­ though it''s still just a guess. Well, if you actually showed me signs that you were from the upper side¡­ hmmmm¡­" as she spoke, Ran revealed her left hand, which had been hidden beneath the long sleeves of her faded grayish-blue sweater, oversized on her thin frame. In her grasp lay a small pocketknife, its sharpened edge glinting in the dim light of the alleyway.


    "Glam''s plan earlier wasn''t bad either way," Ran resumed, her gaze fixed on El.


    On the other hand, El himself didn''t feel anything about it. The truth was ¨C for these past few days, whenever he looked back at his action of standing in a daze like a statue ¨C looking at the barbed wire fences that separated the city from the underside ¨C he had these overwhelming urges to actually cross it. Besides, Glam''s plan, and his, let''s say ¨C underling, needed him to actually have parents. How the hell could he have even gotten one? The silver riel given to him by the man was also safely stashed in a hidden compartment, with El typically bringing around two coins at most inside his pocket whenever he wandered outside of the house.


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    So basically, their plan was a bust from the start, no matter which angle El saw it.


    "Uh-huh¡­" El replied briefly. After exchanging glances again, he suddenly muttered under his breath ¨C out of context from the current somber atmosphere. It was enough for Ran, who was at El''s side, to hear it. "You are really pretty though¡­"


    "Huh¡­" caught off guard, Ran ended up in a daze.


    "I mean, you are really pretty. I swear you look like an angel¡­" El declared abruptly, a sincere smile gracing his lips. He raised his voice slightly, causing those behind them to pause, taken aback by the unexpected compliment that had slipped from El''s lips.


    "???"


    "!!??"


    "¡­ ??? ¡­ !!! ???"


    "What the hell???" Sill and Glam''s jaws were wide open in disbelief.


    "Wha¡ªwhy you¡­ why?" Ran stuttered on the spot ¨C her voice faltering as a crimson hue crept across her cheeks. It was even more apparent since most people El had seen from the underside indeed had pale, sickly skin. But from El''s brief observation, he was sure ¨C Ran''s skin was white from the start, making the blush even more visible on her face.


    "Why? Of course, it''s because you are pretty!? What else?" El replied guilelessly, with no shame whatsoever on his face, blissfully unaware of the tension in the air. He sensed a mix of happiness and confusion radiating from Ran, though the undercurrent of anger was unmistakably more palpable. To El, this seemed like a positive sign. Anger minus happy means joy, right? El thought the way he tried to comfort her about the restaurant predicament was such a brilliant move. He would do so with the others too if he had the chance. El proudly praised himself.


    He recalled fond memories of his late aunt, who had always beamed with joy at his compliments. It all started because she had once told him that all women appreciated being praised as beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, cute, etc. El remembered all of those words clearly ¨C as they were etched in the deepest part of his mind. They were the special secrets that could make his aunt happy and bring a smile to her weary face despite the hunger, thirst, and countless corpses surrounding them at that time.


    ''Surely, it will work on other women too, right?'' El mused inwardly. Besides, he genuinely believed that his aunt was beautiful, and so it was with Ran. His aunt had been the one closest to El, so his instincts, which were always ready to sing a choir of praises for women, gradually stirred awake from their deep slumber.


    "Y-y-y-y-you, you¡­" Ran stammered even more, mouth agape as she struggled to find the right words. Her previous inscrutable expression cracked at that very moment.


    "Youyou?? What you?" El said, raising one of his eyebrows in genuine confusion. He then continued with the praises directed at her. Just like the saying, ¡®Strike while the iron is hot to bring the best out of it. Truly terrific, indeed,¡¯ El elatedly added inside his mind.


    "Ummmm, anyway, it¡¯s your eyes especially. Your eyes are really pretty, like the¡­ like¡­ ummmhh... ah¡­ like the stormy sea I once saw in a picture in my village. Full of depth and mystery. And¡­ in short, you are really pretty, Ran. Beautiful. Or perhaps, if you don¡¯t like it ¨C gorgeous instead¡­" El stated with a smile, while pondering seriously which compliment would resonate best, especially as he noticed Ran''s emotions slowly shifting toward happiness, which in turn filled him with joy too.


    He didn¡¯t know what Ran thought about him at that moment, but for no apparent reason, El truly wanted her to become his friend. He would do his best to make her like him. He had only one friend before, who had passed away from thirst, and now he was greedy for more of that thing called ¨C friends. His late aunt had also advised him to befriend people his age in case he ever survived by any chance, and Ran seemed to fit the bill perfectly.


    Her age must have been the same as his, right?


    After delivering to the best of his current ability ¨C all of those heartfelt compliments ¨C El waited for Ran''s reaction with eager anticipation. He imagined that she would smile back at him and then say that she liked him, thanking El for comforting her when she was sad. After that, they would shake hands to seal the deal of their newfound friendship. Or a hug, perhaps. Or maybe a kiss on the cheek. Then, they would become friends forever, living happily ever after together. Just like what his last friend had said and described if he ever had a girl his age as a friend.


    Even if one of them would die earlier than the other, at least El would have one more friend to count on his fingers, about his experiences in life, and how he would go on to write later that day ¨C if it was possible ¨C on his notes about having two friends starting today.


    And all that ¨C was pretty much the summary of what was going on inside El''s head. But the reality that soon dawned upon the poor, na?ve, innocent El was far from his daydreams. Not a handshake, unfortunately. Not a hug, either. Nor a kiss on the cheek. Nor a smile or holding hands as their friendship grew stronger.


    Instead, he was met with something altogether different. A swift, outstretched palm, fingers conjoined, flew toward El''s cheek.


    Uh yep. It was pretty much a slap at that point¡­


    "You... pervert!!?"


    * * *

 17. Ralrain, One Of the Four Vassal States: Part 2

    * * *


    As the slap flew toward El¡¯s cheek, he instinctually moved away.


    ¡°You pervert!?¡± Ran uttered while glaring irately at El.


    ¡°Wha ¨C what? Why are you angry?¡± El said, perplexed. One more important thing for El, though, was that he didn¡¯t know what she meant by pervert. ¡®What is a pervert? Some kind of unique, hillilbilly phrase when you are angry with others?¡¯


    ¡°Hhahahaha, I like this guy already,¡± Sill moved toward the two while laughing, then put his arm on El¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You know, this is the first time I see Ran flustered like that. Nice job, little guy!!?¡± he put his thumbs up in front of El¡¯s face, beaming happily.


    Ran rolled her eyes at what Sill said.


    ¡°What? What did I do wrong?¡±


    ¡°¡­ so, you don¡¯t know?¡± Sill asked, blankly staring at El bewilderedly.


    ¡°What should I know?¡±


    Putting his arm away from El, Sill spoke, ¡°Hmmm, you really are not from Mirthwater, huh¡­ the culture here in Ralrain is quite different from the other three states. It¡¯s rigid. A man can¡¯t just praise a woman out of nowhere, or you¡¯ll be accused of being a pervert, profligate, or just straight-up a lecher¡­¡±


    ¡°Excuse me, but what are this pervert, profligate, or lecher?¡±


    After El raised that question, everyone suddenly fell into a throng of stillness.


    Speechless, Sill inquired, ¡°You really don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I don¡¯t know¡­¡± El shook his head, his eyes gleaming with pure innocence.


    ¡°Have you ever gone to school?¡±


    ¡°I heard about the school. It is a place for people to study, right? Then no, I never once went to school.¡±


    ¡°Wha¡­ so how do you live this long? I mean, there is no way. You converse with us just fine, though. You even know about Mirthwater and Ralrain¡­¡±


    ¡°Of course, I know. I read it in books. Mirthwater is one of the many cities in Ralrain. On the other hand, Ralrain is one of the four Vassal States of Eschaton Empire, also called The Empire¡¯s Shield, isn¡¯t it?¡± El explained what he knew fluently without a pause to think it through, owing to his intelligence.


    ¡°See, this kid is a liar,¡± Glam accused, pointing at El. ¡°He said he never attended school, but he knows just fine knowledge that only books from high school would contain. That doesn¡¯t even make sense. Where does he even get that kind of book?¡±


    ¡°You all coming or not? Stop wasting time!? What if we¡¯re late? I¡¯m sure the others are already waiting,¡± Ran shouted, unknowingly already ahead of the group. As she looked back, noticing that the others were currently arguing instead, she called out to them loudly ¨C her voice bouncing off the walls surrounding them. The rest then exchanged glances with each other and hurriedly followed behind Ran.


    After approximately walking for around forty-five minutes, El began to hear voices drifting in from the mouth of the alleyway, growing louder as they approached their intended destination. Ran and the others then stopped in front of the abandoned building full of debris and random spray paints, creating abstract graffiti. Sill grasped the back of El¡¯s jacket, stopping him from going any further down the path.


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    ¡°We already arrived, little bro. Where do you even want to go?¡± Sill said amiably. All along the rest of the way, El and Sill had spent time together, conversing in many random discussions, which made them realize that the two clicked as they made jokes with each other. Sometimes though, the two ended up feeling depressed when unknowingly and without purpose, touched on the subject of the restaurant and what kind of execution would be done to the workers and the owner of that restaurant.


    ¡°Meh, I¡¯m just checking things up ahead. You know, standard precautions¡­¡±


    ¡°Just say you don¡¯t know the way. Why the need to use difficult words?¡±


    ¡°Bruh¡­ if you knew it, what¡¯s the need for you to say it¡­¡±


    ¡°It was a safety measure, not standard precautions!!?¡± Ran interjected suddenly from the side, trying to shoot her own witty remark, as she seemed to want to be part of El¡¯s and Sill¡¯s <i>¡®jest group.¡¯</i>


    ¡°What!?!?¡± El and Sill simultaneously stated after hearing what Ran said. As they exchanged glances, the two subsequently ended up chortling at Ran.


    ¡°Kekeekkekekek, that was such a dry joke. You are funny, Ran,¡± Sill remarked.


    Meanwhile, El just laughed quietly alongside him, trying not to say more than necessary as he didn¡¯t want to hurt Ran¡¯s feelings. Though, while chuckling, his curved eyes were directed at Ran, who was glaring at the two of them.


    ¡°Shut up. Remember we¡¯re not here to laugh¡­¡± Ran scowled angrily at their jokes.


    The ambiance then grew gloomier again. El regained his composure, his mood taking a sudden nosedive ¨C sinking to the very depths. Sill at his side too, gradually adopted a more solemn demeanor.


    ¡°Tch, idiots!¡± Glam muttered quietly, ensuring that only El and Sill could hear him. He then walked between the two of them, deliberately using his shoulder to knock them aside as he passed, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.


    ¡°Ummmmh, what¡¯s the problem with him?¡± El inquired of Sill.


    ¡°Sigh¡­ don¡¯t mind him. He is actually a good guy if you know him long enough. Though I¡¯ll admit he is kinda tangy¡­ you know what I mean?¡± Sill replied.


    ¡°No¡­¡±


    ¡°I figured so¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey, you. Come here¡­¡± Ran called out to El.


    ¡°Yes, what¡¯s up?¡± El hastily drew closer to her. He could feel that Ran was still a bit angry at him from the earlier conversation. Or perhaps, the earlier jokes.


    ¡°Since you obviously don¡¯t know the rules of the underside, based on how you don¡¯t even know propriety, I¡¯ll tell you this just once,¡± pausing after delivering that thick sarcasm, Ran resumed her string of words.


    ¡°Do not ever, ever ¨C move anything, or even touch anything you see in this building. From the table to the chair to even the window curtains. And remember three more rules that are the most important to make sure you are alive and well after this. First ¨C never look through the mirror if you find one by accident. Second, resist all urges or sudden curiosity to remove any clothes that are draped over something. And lastly, if by any chance a doll or a small statue appears before you seemingly out of nowhere, run away immediately, if possible, go to the outside of the building ¨C while shouting as loud as possible to alert the others, understood!?¡± Ran spoke gravely, her eyes unwaveringly fixed on El ¨C as if the weight of her words demanded his full attention.


    ¡°Okay, I understand,¡± El replied, his voice steady despite the gravity of her warning. Deep inside, however, he felt a surge of curiosity, a desire to ask further questions about her vague instructions


    * * *


    <b><i>Spoiler Alert: </i></b>


    <b>Just pieces of the story background. (By the way, the background was so vast I sometimes had a hard track keeping it in my head. 6 years since I had crafted it, it was all about me and my execution now. Though honestly, I still need a lot to learn before becoming a really good writer to deliver this story inside my head.)</b>


    <i>Profligate is what Sill means as a drunkard, frowned upon by people who live in almost all regions of Ralrain, especially the cities that are adjacent to the harbors or docks. This is because, in the past, a certain group liked to mess around in the towns of Ralrain while drunk, which led to these groups being banned. Thus, profligates are classified as equivalent to perverts and thieves. Of course, there is actually a deeper implication and reason behind all of that.</i>

 Chapter 18. The Cursed: Part 1

    * * *


    "Alright then, let''s go!" Ran said.


    Glam, who stood at the front of the door, then pulled out a key. He inserted it into the large bronze padlock that secured the door with a rusty chain. The two men beside him kicked the door open, and as it swung wide, Glam and the other two quickly pulled their shirts up to cover their noses. A cloud of dust erupted into the air, swirling around them ¨C propelled by the gust of wind created by the door''s sudden movement.


    "It''s been so long since the last time we used this road¡­" one of the men remarked, his voice muffled as he held his arm to his face, swiping his hand repeatedly to disperse the dust that clung to the air.


    After a few moments, it finally began to settle. Ran was the one who led and stepped inside first, venturing into the dark, pitch-black building. With a sense of familiarity, she moved along the wall until she found the light switch. With a nippy motion, she flipped it down, and the building was illuminated by a dim glow from the flickering white lamp that hung above their heads.


    Inside, El surveyed the scene before him, feeling uncomfortable at the chaotic mess that lay within ¨C it reminded him of certain unpleasant memories when he was still a child living under his uncle and aunt rundown house. Chairs were haphazardly piled against broken windows, their splintered legs jutting out like skeletal fingers reaching above. Fragments of tables lay in a mess on the floor, mingling with discarded belongings that hinted at lives once lived within these walls.


    "Hmmm, I think everything is fine here," Ran said, accompanied by a casual shrug.


    "Dang, it got even creepier than the last time we were here," Sill mentioned, his voice low as he took in the unsettling atmosphere of the hallway.


    The building stretched out before them, revealing a long, narrow corridor lined with countless rows of identical doors. Each door, painted with a faded shade of gray, stood in stark contrast to the peeling wallpaper that flaked away in patches, exposing the bare, crumbling plaster beneath. Some doors were slightly ajar, while others stood wide open as if inviting the curious one to peer inside. Yet the oppressive, creepy darkness beyond seemed to also hold secrets best left undisturbed.


    The corridor was dimly lit, with flickering overhead lights casting erratic shadows that danced along the walls, creating an eerie ambiance. The air was thick with a musty scent, a nauseating mix of mildew and decay that clung to their senses, making it difficult to breathe.


    As they walked down the hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoed eerily, amplifying the unsettling silence that enveloped the space. The sheer number of doors they passed, all so similar, created a disorienting effect ¨C as if the corridor stretched endlessly into the unknown. Some doors bore strange symbols or numbers, obscurely hinting at the possible purposes of the rooms, but the meanings remained shrouded in mystery.


    Ran and the others at the front navigated the labyrinthine corridors with an air of confidence as if they knew the path to their destination by heart. On the other hand, Sill lingered close to El, who walked at the very end of the group, his expression showing a mix of concern and vigilance. He seemed worried that El might become lost in the maze of doors or, worse, tempted by something foul and sinister that lurked within this evil, forsaken building.


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    As they walked further, El swore to himself that he could feel something watching them, unseen by the eyes.


    The feeling was palpable, like the very walls themselves were alive, observing the group''s movements. El knew this sensation very well; it was quite familiar to him. It reminded him of the time when <i>''the man''</i> had performed magic, using that triangle-shaped vial filled with the unknown fluid. The difference he felt this time compared to before was that it came from many eyes ¨C not just from one unknown, oppressive entity lurking in each corner, each side, and every part of the shadows in the room.


    With each step El took, following the others from behind, a creeping sensation crawled up his spine, somehow urging him to turn back. But of course, he wouldn''t do that! This wicked, malevolent aura was something he was actually curious about. The vial itself was safely kept with the rest of the money at the house, waiting for when that man came back to teach him how to use it properly, just like he promised.


    * * *


    As they walked through the narrow hallway, the group approached a door. Ran immediately kicked it open with a forceful shove when she found out it was jammed. A gust of cold wind immediately rushed past them and nipped their faces in uncanny frigidity.


    Beyond the door lay a staircase leading upward. With no further words or delay, they began to ascend it.


    "So far, so good," Sill whispers to El, his voice barely above a murmur.


    "So, what is this actually all about? What do we need to be wary of?" El whispered back, his curiosity piqued.


    The group had been on edge throughout their journey, avoiding mirrors, ignoring clothes draped over something no matter how curious they were, and the worst seemed to be dolls and small statues. But he didn''t see anything along the way, except the flickering light that made the situation feel off, and honestly, quite terrifying even for him. Other than the annoying gazes constantly following their backs, El had not seen or found anything amiss so far, even when their footsteps were rather loud in this vacant, hollow building.


    "Oh, right! I forgot you''re not from here," Sill replies, his tone suddenly shifting to one of seriousness. "There''s a reason why the underside is called the Downtrodden Region. It¡¯s a kind of remembrance, you see. When¡ª"


    Suddenly, their conversation was cut short as Ran, who was leading the group, raised her hand to halt their progress. They had reached the third floor, and Ran stood beside a door marked with the number three, which El had noticed while still on the stairs.


    With Ran as the onset who gestured for silence to the rest of the group ¨C by placing her index finger on her lips ¨C the others quickly followed suit, passing the message to those behind them. Glam, at the rear, also mimicked the gesture, reminding El and Sill, who were at the very back, to keep quiet and stay alert, all the while adding a glare of his own.


    *Trang tang tang tang*


    *Trang tang tang tang*


    *Kriek kriek kriek*


    *Thud*


    *Bang*


    A cacophony of sounds erupted from behind the door leading to the corridor of this floor. The clattering of metal, the thud of objects being thrown, and the creaking of rusted hinges filled the air with precarious, hair-raising noises. It was as if a chaotic scene was unfolding just on the other side of their current place. El could clearly feel the emotions radiating from behind that door.


    It was fear, anger, and something inexplicably darker.


    The group remained silent ¨C tension thick in the air. Their ears listened intently to the crisp of this clamor. After enduring for a prolonged time, Ran finally gestured for them to move, using subtle hand and head movements to signal everyone to follow her lead. They crept forward, their footsteps barely making a sound on the stairs, while the ruckus behind the door continued unabated.


    Once they left the third floor behind, an unspoken agreement settled among all of them: no one dared to make a sound. El walked with newfound caution and his mouth zipped tight, his heart pounding inside his chest from that earlier chilling occurrence.


    Yet, unbeknownst to all of them, as they ascended the stairs, the door of that third floor ¨C connecting the corridor to the staircase ¨C creaked open slowly. After moments passed in this eerie stillness, it gradually closed again on its own, and the chaotic noises from the third floor fell silent, leaving an unsettling calm in its wake.


    * * *

 Chapter 19. The Cursed: Part 2

    * * *


    After minutes finally passed, marked by their cautious and deliberate steps to minimize noise, the group reached the highest floor of the building. They emerged onto a roof deck, a desolate space littered with remnants of broken wooden benches, their splintered edges jutting out like jagged teeth against the skyline.


    As the others in the group moved toward the side of the door where they had exited earlier, together, with El and Sill also helping, hoisted a long wooden plank that from the start had leaned against the wall, its surface rough and weathered. With a collective effort, they carried it to the edge of the building, positioning it carefully to create a makeshift bridge to the adjacent structure.


    Ran was the first to take a step onto the plank, and her balance was surprisingly steady. She breezily crossed over to the other side. One by one, the others followed suit, with El and Sill bringing up the rear. After El managed to step onto the plank and shortly reach the other side, it was finally Sill''s turn for the very last. He hesitated for a moment, eyeing the precarious path before him. As he began to walk, the board suddenly shifted beneath his feet, shaking gravely up and down.


    An awful realization washed over the rest of them; something unobserved by eyes from the earlier building caused the plank to move erratically, as if it were alive, trying to throw Sill off balance. After the board swayed dangerously, that invisible entity likely realized something, which in turn made the board swerve only to the left. Sill appeared to be in a panic as he struggled to maintain his footing.


    "It''s the cursed! Hold the plank!" Glam shouted, his voice cutting through the anxiety like a knife. He was the first to spring into action, rushing forward swiftly to grasp the plank firmly. El, Ran, and the others hastily followed suit, their hands gripping the wood tightly as they worked together to stabilize it.


    They adjusted their positions, countering the unseen force that sought to topple the board and Sill on top of it. If he were to fall from this height, it would surely kill him. After the struggle against this surprisingly vigorous, gritty invisible force ¨C who held against their collective efforts ¨C Sill, with his shaky steps and heavy breathing, finally managed to reach the safety of the other side.


    The relief that washed over him was palpable, but their ordeal was not yet over. With a collective effort, ensuring it was no longer a bridge of danger, they pulled the wooden plank to their side while struggling one more time against this supernatural being who refused to let go. Still, by using their wits, the group managed to get the upper hand by pulling it periodically together. And at the end of it... they succeeded...


    "AAAAACCCCCCCKKKKKKKKHHHHHH," the spooky, undefinable, high-pitched wail promptly echoed ominously, apparently out of frustration, stretching longer than what a living being capable of, until it eventually ceased by the end.


    * * *


    ¡°Everyone¡¯s okay, isn¡¯t it? No one got a headache?¡± Ran asked. She let herself slump down to the ground, then scanned the faces of her group, ensuring they were all the real themselves. No jinxies winxies from being possessed.


    ¡°No¡­¡±


    ¡°No one¡­¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll notice if something tries to latch on us,¡± Glam said between breaths that gradually returned to normal. Only El and Ran didn¡¯t look tired from the earlier ordeal; meanwhile, the rest were gasping for breath. Ran turned her gaze to El who sat on the side with his unreadable expression ¨C and so did Glam, Sill, and the others. Their silent stares left El feeling disconcerted and embarrassed.


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    ¡°Something¡¯s on my face???¡± El inquired while lightly scratching the back of his neck. He couldn''t deny that he understood what they were thinking as they pressed their lips together, holding back their questions. Ironically, he had a question of his own. One thing that El had noticed from their previous struggle was that ¨C he and Ran were the ones providing the most strength out of the group. El could feel something imperceptible emerge from Ran¡¯s body. It was an unimaginable strength possessed by a girl. ¡®Aren¡¯t women weak physically? How is she stronger than even the others?¡¯ he thought to himself.


    As for his own strength, it remained an enigma to him. Since waking up that day, he had noticed just how abnormally strong he truly was. There was no way a teenager like him could generate such physical power. One time, he had attempted a kick, mimicking a move he had seen in one of his dreams, and ended up breaking the side of the bed. Even now, he felt guilty about it, wondering if he owed <i>¡®the man¡¯</i> some sort of compensation to fix it. His leg had also taken a hit from the impact, but the slight pain quickly faded, and the bruise on his skin disappeared within seconds. He couldn¡¯t help but wonder what actually happened during the time he had lost his memories.


    Then there was also the experience in the alleyway, where time appeared to stretch, and his senses sharpened, rendering every detail around him more vivid and intense.


    * * *


    It was Ran who eventually broke the awkwardness. Dusting herself off, she stood up.


    El followed her example, brushing off the dust from his clothes. He raised a question to the rest of them, ¡°What was that? Anyone care to explain?¡±


    Sill frowned as he leaned over the parapet, recalling something unpleasant. ¡°It was the cursed,¡± he stated. Looking at El, he continued, ¡°Many rumors say the Downtrodden Region was once a battlefield long ago before our people were banished here, where Witches, as the invading forces, fought against the Vanguard, the elite guards of Ralrain.¡±


    ¡°The cursed are believed to be the people who died here, grudging over the living. They haunt, hurt, possess, or try to kill anyone who comes close to their territory as an invisible entity,¡± Ran interjected, continuing her explanation while locking eyes with El. ¡°The nobility called them ghosts. Evil spirits. But since a long time ago, we, from the underside call them the cursed. Because their occasional screams are pretty much the same as ours. Cursing our inability to fight back against this whole unfair treatment that fell upon our heads by the empire ¨C even though the crime committed by our ancestors was hundreds of years ago.¡±


    ¡°¡­ I¡­ see¡­ I¡¯m sorry, but what crime is it?¡± El asked, unable to hold back any longer about the question that reached the back of his throat; regarding the entire explanation of their circumstances as the people living in the underside. Though honestly, he felt kind of guilty and ashamed ¨C for it was clear that the topic itself was an abhorrent matter to their affairs, as he seemed to be digging into their history impolitely. A painful reminder of their struggles. Yet, he couldn''t shake the desire to understand.


    ¡°¡­ rebellions. Consuming millions of lives in the empire, or so they said. We from the underside are related to them by blood. No one was spared. Women. Kids. The old. Not even babies. Even if we have only a small smudge of blood connection, regardless, we are branded the same,¡± she said, her tone heavy with loathing. Each word was carved from deep apprehension and resentment ¨C bitterness smeared across her lips like venomous honey.


    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m sorry for asking such a question. But why are you willing to tell me this?¡±


    ¡°I admit, it¡¯s for my own self-interest.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s move on to the next building,¡± Ran suggested suddenly, her voice resolute. She deliberately ignored El¡¯s question by turning her back to him.


    The others quickly stood up, lifting the long wooden plank to use as a bridge to the next building.


    ¡°Why do we need this?¡± El asked Sill, curiosity lacing his tone.


    ¡°Because the region below here is dangerous. We call it ¡®the restricted road.¡¯ We¡¯re already on the other side of the fence, remember? It¡¯s hell down there. The cursed we encountered before are unusual indeed, but they can still be classified as a small threat as long as we''re careful or have space to run away. But there¡­¡± Sill pointed at the ground. ¡°Down there is even worse. The cursed there can easily take down guards from the upper side no matter how strong or how fast they run. Trust me, it¡¯s madness if we¡¯re not doing this.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm, fair enough¡­¡± El replied, considering his words quietly.


    * * *

 Chapter 20. Raynald Amblecrown: Part 1

    * * *


    After bridging over to the fifth building, they finally reached the sixth one. From their vantage point, El spotted people on the other side, with two figures in particular standing out among them. The first was a familiar boy with faded red hair whom El had encountered in the restaurant beside Ran. He now sported a shade of brown hair that left El puzzled about how his hair had managed to change color.


    Beside that boy stood a striking figure ¨C a huge man with short brown hair, his expression etched with anxiety as he looked at Ran, who walked along the wooden plank and easily crossed to the other side. Meanwhile, El felt the scrutinizing gaze of the large man as he carefully moved on the plank, the man seemingly wondering who the new boy was. Currently, around twenty-five people were gathered there, including their seven-member group.


    ¡°Why are you here, Sir Giles?¡± Ran asked the imposing figure, occasionally averting her gaze.


    ¡°Of course, I¡¯m here, lass. I¡¯m worried about you. Please don¡¯t do such things again. I nearly had a heart attack when the others told me you forced your way into leading a group,¡± Sir Giles replied, his voice heavy with concern.


    ¡°I wanted to be here, no matter what. How can I stay in the base knowing what¡¯s happening to the restaurant?¡± Ran frowned, her determination evident. From their conversation, it was clear to El that Ran was forbidden to come here. He quietly pondered, guessing that their actual goal was not as simple as just watching the execution from the sidelines.


    ¡°But¡­¡±


    ¡°But what? You¡¯re always so overprotective of me. I¡¯m fine, aren¡¯t I? That¡¯s all that matters,¡± she interrupted him, her cheeks flushed and her lips forming a stubborn pout as she confronted Sir Giles.


    From the side, El silently observed Ran finally acting more like a girl her age, though perhaps a tad too intelligent for her years. Previously, when they were still on the way, she had carried herself like an experienced leader; now, she resembled more of a child throwing a tantrum.


    Yet one thing struck El as odd: everyone seemed submissive in front of Sir Giles. He was a tall, middle-aged man ¨C not as tall as <i>¡®the man¡¯</i> ¨C with a beer belly but muscular, looking just as sick as the others from the underside. He wore a long-sleeved gray shirt that was smudged and quite worn out, along with black pants. The most striking feature of his appearance, which contributed to his intimidating presence, was the black shield strapped tightly to his back, much taller than El himself, held in place by black ropes crossing over his shoulders.


    ¡°Sigh, just tell me next time before you do something like this, alright?¡± Sir Giles said, his tone a mix of exasperation and care.


    ¡°No, you¡¯d surely refuse to let me join,¡± Ran shot back, casting a quick glance from the corner of her eyes.


    ¡°I won¡¯t¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, how long have we known each other, sir? I know what kind of person you are,¡± she replied, her frown deepening. She then turned her gaze to El, trying to change the topic. ¡°By the way, this is the guy I picked up on the road here. His name is El.¡±


    ¡®Picked up on the road? What am I, a cat?¡¯ El grumbled silently to himself as Ran introduced him to Sir Giles, who eyed him suspiciously.


    Ran gestured for Sir Giles to bend down. As he obliged, she cupped her hands around his ear and began whispering something. From where El stood, he couldn¡¯t catch a single word of their hushed exchange. As she spoke, Sir Giles¡¯s expression shifted to one of bewilderment, his eyes widening before he nodded repeatedly.


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    ¡°I see, I see¡­¡± he said, smiling at El, which only deepened El¡¯s confusion. ¡®What? Are they talking about me?¡¯


    ¡°Not too obvious¡­!!!¡± Ran hissed at him in frustration, while glaring at the man who seemed clueless to her annoyance.


    ¡°Okay, okay. No worries,¡± Sir Giles replied, smiling helplessly like a kind grandpa facing his spoiled granddaughter. He then approached El, drawing closer to him. ¡°Hey lad. How are you? No trouble on the way here, right?¡±


    He gave El a light but rough pat on the back of his shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance. Ran could only facepalm at the sight. El winced, rubbing his shoulder where the impact had left it numb. Despite the discomfort, a small smile crept onto his lips as he replied, ¡°I¡¯m fine, sir. No trouble at all,¡± El lied, recalling Ran¡¯s insistence that they all pretend their journey had been trouble-free when they joined the rest of the group.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good then,¡± Sir Giles said as he turned away from El. He then instructed the rest of the members, ¡°Alright, I think we''re all good to go. Let¡¯s go; the execution will start soon.¡± He led the way toward the edge, where an iron structure like a bridge connected to the taller building they were on.


    As El entered the building, he noted the pristine condition of its interior, devoid of the trash and rubble that had marred the previous structure where their group had entered earlier. They ascended once more, navigating the staircase with purpose. At each landing, they encountered individuals who stood at attention with their casual clothes, saluting Sir Giles whenever he came close, with a right fist placed over their left chest.


    * * *


    At last, they eventually reached the pinnacle of the building. El leaned over the parapet, peering down at the scene below, where rows of people gathered. They were clearly the residents of Mirthwater City.


    The yard of the mayor''s office unfolded before El. It was a vibrant scene, filled with lush green grasses interspersed with an array of exotic flowers swaying gently in the breeze, their colors bursting forth in a riot of reds, yellows, and purples. The air was fragrant with their sweet scent, creating a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere that enveloped the scene. A large steel-white fence stood imposingly wide open, as if inviting onlookers to witness the unfolding events.


    In the center of this picturesque yard, a wooden platform rose slightly above the ground, where twelve figures knelt, their hands bound tightly behind their backs. Before these twelve ¨C stood a pillar, positioned just low enough for the onlookers to still view the kneeling figures. And to this pillar, a pale, lifeless woman was tied, her eyes closed, wearing a plain white dress, with a deep strangulation wound marring her neck, causing her head to tilt unnaturally to one side.


    The sight was jarring against the backdrop of beauty, a haunting tableau that sent shivers down El''s spine. It was a chilling tragedy, leaving one to ponder the depths of violence that had unfolded here to yield such an appalling outcome. A crowd of Mirthwater residents gathered around, all dressed in somber black clothing that contrasted sharply with the colorful flora surrounding them. The atmosphere was filled with unease; those in the back rows watched with a mix of emotions, predominantly grief etched on their faces.


    In stark contrast, the individuals in the front rows whispered among themselves, their voices laced with venomous profanity. One man, filled with disdain, spat on the ground as he glared at the kneeling figures, his expression a blend of disgust and malice. The murmurs of curses from the front rows created a palpable sense of hostility, underscoring the gravity of the moments in this yard.


    Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the yard stood a lavish platform, adorned with elegant chairs and a shaded area for the seated guests. Numerous servants flitted about, attending to their every need, presenting an array of desserts and drinks on the tables before them. The mayor, dressed in black just like the grieving residents, presided over the gathering, flanked on the left and right by nobles adorned in colorful garments that signified their status. While the mayor''s expression was hard and unsmiling, the nobles sat with an air of arrogance, heads held high as they looked down upon the execution ground, their expressions a mix of indifference and superiority.


    Rows of guards stood at attention, their dark blue uniforms forming a somber backdrop to the unfolding drama. They each held long guns, a presence that served as a stark reminder of the authority and control exerted over the scene.


    ¡°So, this is¡­ the so-called execution ground,¡± El muttered to himself as the disconcerting weight settled heavily upon him. He looked to his side, where he found Ran and the boy who kept sneering at him in the restaurant, also leaning in to see the scene.


    * * *

 Chapter 21. Raynald Amblecrown, Part 2

    Meanwhile, away from Mirthwater, at the border between Landmarrow and Aquilora, in the forest called the Niverlem Grove.


    The night was currently heavy with tension, the air cool and crisp beneath the canopy of towering trees that stretched high into the inky sky. A crescent moon hung above, casting a silvery glow that filtered through the leaves, creating a dappled pattern on the forest floor. The rustling of the wind whispered hush among branches from the chaos unfolding below.


    In the shadows, a man stumbled through the underbrush, his white shirt, grey jacket, and jeans soaked in blood, the crimson staining the fabric to create a contrast against the muted colors of the night. Deep slash marks marred his skin, each wound was an indication of the violence he had endured so far. The most severe injury was a gaping puncture wound in his stomach, blood oozing from the depths of the injury, leaving a trail of red in his wake.


    Behind him, many figures cloaked in black pursued relentlessly, their movements swift and silent like shadows. These assassins were adorned in dark attire that blended seamlessly with the night, and it surely was a menacing sight. Silver masks covered their faces, intricate lines of gold tracing cryptic patterns that glinted in the moonlight, obscuring their identities. The eyes of the mask were gleaming in red, adding to their ominous presence.


    As the man ran, he leaped over branches and maneuvered deftly among the trees, his extraordinary instincts guiding him as he dodged the deadly projectiles that whistled past him. The man often also hopped on another tree, only for his legs to kick something invisible in the air, causing his body to swerve oddly to the side, peering away from the direction of the first jump.


    The shuttling sound of throwing knives sliced the silence, each blade aimed with precision, yet, it still failed to hit the mark as it embedded itself into the soil or the trunks of trees with a dull thud.


    But then, in a chilling display of skill, the knives somehow trembled. And as if it was summoned by an unseen force, they detached from their resting places, flying back to the hands of the black-clad assassins who took the knives skillfully ¨C ready for their next throw. The forest echoed with the sound of metal slicing through the air, producing a deadly symphony that underscored the urgency of the chase.


    The man, with his breath already in a ragged gasp, suddenly stopped in his tracks. Because someone was standing right in front of him. And he could feel a dangerous aura emanating from him.


    Obscured by the shadows, stood a man clad in a striking white vestment, its fabric shimmering faintly under the moonlight. A hood draped over his head, obscuring his face in shadow, adding an air of mystery to his presence. There was also a mystifying emerald gem resting right at the back of his hood. Meanwhile, the vest featured a bold line of gold running vertically down the center, from the hem to the bottom, where the vest seemed to float just above the ground, defying gravity.


    Against the backdrop of the gold pattern, a deep blue sky was depicted, adorned with seven radiant red jewels that glimmered like stars. Thirteen intricate symbols completed the vest, marking him as a Priest from the Church of Origin, a figure of both reverence and enigma.


    ¡°The end is nigh. Will you surrender obediently now, Sir Raynard?¡± the priest spoke, his voice was soft and soothing, but also had a depth to it ¨C it was low yet loud enough to resonate across the clearing. Meanwhile, the assassins quietly dropped to the ground, and like a cat, they landed without generating any sound ¨C now stood by in reticence, creating a circle that surrounded the injured man called, Sir Raynard. He was actually the mysterious man who brought El to Mirthwater and left him there alone.


    ¡°Sigh¡­ oh, how flattered I am. Not only hunted by Praetorian Guard members, but even a priest from the Church of Origin is here. I wonder what crime have I done to receive such special treatment?¡± said Sir Raynald in a mocking tone. His body tightened, ready to dodge or retaliate at any moment''s notice.


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    ¡°You know well enough our purpose, don¡¯t you sir? Besides, you are a criminal who betrays the order. It is best if you come with us in compliance.¡±


    ¡°How old are you, kid? I bet not even past thirty, right?¡±


    ¡°¡­¡± the reply was met with silence.


    ¡°Why? No answer? How rude?¡± Sir Raynald narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°I apologize¡­¡± the priest bowed his head slightly. ¡°But the Cardinal told me not to engage in any conversation with you, sir. So please, surrender now, or we might resort to an extreme measure to bring you to the Pope,¡± all the assassins called the Praetorian Guard immediately drew their knife, putting them slightly in front of their bodies to prepare an attack.


    ¡°Why go to the Pope? Don¡¯t tell me the relationship between the church and empire has become amiable these days. Am I missing that much while wandering outside?¡± while Sir Raynard asked the question nonchalantly, inside his soul space, he quietly created a few Rune Orbs.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t plan to talk with a Renegade lest I am bewitched by the Devil,¡± after saying his piece, the priest lifted his right hand and directed it to Sir Raynard. Behind the latter, a huge, ethereal skeleton hand broke through from the ground, trying to grab his body.


    Sir Raynald with no delay, turned and punched that skeleton hand while covering his hand with Rune Magic, <b><i>{Blast}</i></b>.


    *Bang*


    The skeleton hand promptly exploded from the impact, while Sir Raynald used another one. It was <b><i>{Accelerate}</i></b>. His body then moved at a ghostly speed that left after image in his wake, dodging another skeleton hand that came out from just below his feet.


    All the Praetorians then proceed to charge too. Their movement synchronized, attacked using their blades or spells at the same time or in turns, trying to incapacitate Sir Raynald and take advantage of his condition who already exhausted most of his Soul Essence from the chasing and assault that had been progressing for almost a week now.


    More wounds accumulated on his body, and his situation became more perilous the longer the clocks ticked. Sir Raynald gritted his teeth, deflecting the incoming knives with his bare hand, crushed the skeleton hands with punches, dispelling various spells thrown at him, and even counterattacked by throwing the Praetorian over his shoulder, hitting them in the face or the gut, while making sure not to kill them outright because how strong he was when using Soul Essence to <b><i>{Fortify}</i></b>


    his body.


    After all, he was once a renowned Rune Master under the <b>Order of the Sacred Flame</b>. His name was Raynald from the Amblecrown Noble Family, known as the Fist of Justice. What an irony. He even needs to smash these people to the ground using only his palms. But even then, no matter how strong an elephant was against a mouse ¨C when numbers and other factors came in the count, the unchallengeable animal would be no more but a slightly bigger animal, especially with how Sir Raynald refused to kill any of them.


    Besides, they were not ordinary mice either, especially the priest from the Church of Origin. Even now, Sir Raynald could feel how enormous and pure the Soul Essence that was contained in the priest''s small body. It was like a glaring sun, contained in a vessel that was not strong enough yet to unleash all of its potential. From his observation, it was easy to deduce that this priest was the Church of Origin''s newest member, born blessed. Or perhaps not at all.


    One or two of the strikes had found their way to bypass the shield made from the solidified Soul Essence that covered his whole body, producing more wounds on his flesh. A few of the assaulters even used curse magic, which weakened him greatly. Curse was one of the most difficult subjects to learn, and equally hard to cleanse or expel from the body. Even for a Rune Master like him, it took a considerable effort, added with his Soul Essence that was close to being emptied.


    One of the skeleton hands finally managed to land right on top of him, slamming him on the ground. With dirt and roots exploding outward, the priest clenched his hand tight, as the skeleton hand did the same. Now lying in the ethereal grasp, Sir Raynald could only helplessly watch as he was brought closer to the front of the priest, while blood streamed down from his head to his chin.


    ¡°You¡¯re satisfied now, kid?¡± Sir Raynald spoke, while secretly letting go of the notion to keep resisting. Once he got a chance, he would flee anyway. This was not the first that he had been caught by the <b>Order of the Sacred Flame</b> members, nor it was the first being in a fight with a Priest or Priestess of Origin. However, in his opinion, the kid in front of him was amateurish and rather weak compared to the people he knew in his position.


    * * *

 Chapter 23. Raynald Amblecrown, Part 3

    * * *


    Though, just like every other special individual out in the open, there was a reason why the Priest or Priestess of Origin''s significant tactical advantage and deterrence against the threats that were against the empire were above Rune Master. Because they had exceptional abilities beyond the range of the invented, discovered, and explored Rune Magics that were classified to be too dangerous. Without constant supervision, practice, and training to control it, there would be a chance for them to lose control, or worse, become the enemy of the empire.


    The priest then lifted his head, meeting Sir Raynald face to face. There was a black cloth covering the former¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Hmmm, no wonder I don¡¯t sense a sight coming from you¡­¡± Sir Raynald commented.


    The priest''s lips moved as he conveyed the question that had been bothering him in this mission, from the very first time he met this notorious Renegade, one of the many traitors who were against the emperor¡¯s rule, till now when he was finally powerless in his grasp.


    ¡°Why???¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­¡± Sir Raynald raised one of his eyebrows.


    ¡°You assaulted two whole squads of the Night Shadow who are led by two High Rankers, and even incapacitated a Rune Master who came to help. You surely managed to run away by now if you chose the option to kill, instead of letting them go in mercy, only for them to send the news to the others. So why? Why does an evil traitor like you do that?¡± there was a genuine puzzlement in his intonation, and that made Sir Raynald''s lips curve in amusement. He was sure this priest was new and clueless about the whole complicated situation in the empire.


    ¡°Oh, curious much are you?¡± Sir Raynald teased him with a smile. However, he also wanted to grumble because of how this young priest made it seem like he was the one who initiated the attack. It was all bad luck on his part, accidentally meeting those patrol teams while looking for a meal to bring back so he could share with that kid named El. He had so much resentment in his heart, thinking that it all stemmed from his hasty action who wanted to help a bunch of kids from a spirit, only for those busybody justice fools to attack him together, accusing him of being evil and having some hidden agenda whatnot.


    ¡®Bloody hell. I had never been the one to attack first. What is this about assaulting the two squads? I¡¯m freaking helping them. Those damned must be the ones behind it,¡± he angrily whined in his mind.


    ¡°Can you answer me, sir? Why??? You surely know if you are caught, even if the order for you is not to kill on sight, there is a probability you will be imprisoned in the Dragontooth. Or worse, became an experimental subject to be tortured for life. Why do you risk it all???¡± the priest pressed, eager for an answer.


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­ it¡¯s actually simple. The short answer is that you guys have never been the real enemy. You never were.¡±


    The priest narrowed his eyes. ¡°Miss Luccie told me a few things. If you knew what I mean, would you have an answer to that?¡±


    ¡°That little girl? Best you ask her directly lest¡­ be careful¡­¡±


    Suddenly, their conversation was cut short as one of the Praetorian Guard abruptly manifested behind the priest while holding a long sword that glinted in the night, with frosty fog swirling along the edge of the blade.


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    Without either of them managing to anticipate this surprise attack, Sir Raynald could only widen his eyes as the sword penetrated the back of the priest, instantly penetrating through the shield that shrouded the latter body along with the specialized vestment that was not only durable but also enchanted with magic, yet somehow still managed to be pierced. The sword tip and the blade came out from the priest''s chest, just shy away from the skeleton hand that held Sir Raynald in midair.


    ¡°Uhh¡­¡± the priest weakly looked down as blood soaked his garment ¨C his face turning pale, with the thick red liquid from his chest slowly turning into pieces of red ice crystal.


    A frigid haze started to pool in his mouth, choking him slightly as the blade not only punctured his heart ¨C but froze it too. The cold, mystical haze from the sword also spread fast, freezing his surrounding organs and blood. Just a second later, he started to lose consciousness and knew by heart how bad it would be if he were in a near-death situation like this. No, if he were dead, none of the people here could stop his {<b><i>Anima</i></b>} which had quietly slumbered all this time inside his soul.


    ¡°Please no!!!¡± the priest muttered weakly to something that gradually stirred awake from the result of the condition he was in.


    *Accckkk*


    *Clang*


    *Scwing*


    *Rasp*


    The other Praetorians also attacked their own member, killing a few and injuring the rest who were not in cahoots with the one who attacked the priest. On the other hand, the one who attacked the priest himself swiftly pulled the sword, then grasped the latter hood, along with the black cloth that covered his eyes ¨C revealing the empty eye sockets where there were no eyeballs in sight, only the ever-reaching darkness.


    ¡°You crazy bastard,¡± said Sir Raynald in panic. He knew what was to come. It was something terrible. He anxiously tried to wiggle free but was unsuccessful. His heart beat hard, and cold sweat started to soak his back as he watched the young priest''s body stand frozen in an unsettling silence.


    With little to no delay, the priest assaulter immediately vanished from sight - running away hastily from the scene. Seeing their mission was successful, the other traitors also fled from the site. Anywhere close to the dying Priest of Origin was a dangerous zone to anyone who knew and had already read the history book.


    ¡°Free him. He is our only chance to survive this!!!¡± one of the female Praetorians who instantly realized the terrible peril they were in ¨C especially after seeing the priest''s body emanating a huge amount of Soul Essence all around their surroundings, quickly used <b><i>{Accelerate} </i></b>Rune Magic to reach Sir Raynald.


    With a high-speed analytical decision to rapidly understand and determine the choice in this circumstance, the other Praetorian Guards who were among the few still alive and managed to fend off the enemies with little to no injuries at all, promptly followed along with the female Praetorian and ran desperately toward Sir Raynard.


    <b><i>{Surge} + {Water} + {Dispel}</i></b>


    <b><i>¡­</i></b>


    <b><i>{Charge} + {Brittle} + {Amplify}</i></b>


    <b><i>¡­</i></b>


    <b><i>{Lucent} + {Solidify} + {Harden}</i></b>


    <b><i>{Torrent} + {Flame) + {Sharpen}</i></b>


    <b><i>¡­</i></b>


    At the side of each Praetorian Guard, an ethereal shape that could only be seen by those who ignite their Soul Flame manifested, with the spinning three golden Rune Orbs as the vertices, connected with golden string to form a triangle. All of them used their own expertise to strike the skeleton hand that trapped Sir Raynald in its hold ¨C whether attached the Rune Magics to their weapons or cast it directly. But even then, everything proved to be pointless efforts.


    *Boom*


    *Clang*


    *Bang*


    ¡°What the hell, are you all trying to kill me? Just share your Soul Essence with me¡­¡± Sir Raynald complained loudly, as their attacks might not harm him squarely, but the vibration sure did. Their anxiety also grew as the priest''s body burned in golden flame, while from the darkness of his eye socket, an enigmatic set of eyes little by little unfolded itself.


    One of them who luckily had proficiency in that regard immediately used <b><i>{Revitalize}</i></b>, imbuing Soul Essence directly to Sir Raynald''s Soul Flame. As the latter Soul Flame which was severely depleted filled with a new fuel, it began to burn vigorously again. Sir Raynald immediately crushed the skeleton''s hand, freeing himself.


    Yet, it still was a tad too late, as the thing they were wary and afraid of already opened its eyes wide.


    ¡°Damn it¡­¡± Sir Raynald gritted his teeth. All of their nerves stiffened from the invisible pressure that encased them like the weight of a mountain.


    * * *

 Chapter 24. Lucca Accard of The Chimera’s Tail

    * * *


    Back in Mirthwater, El could see their eyes redden, glaring as if they wished to bore a hole into something. It wasn''t surprising, though; since both of them, along with the other kids at that time, seemed to have a close-knit relationship with the people of the restaurant, particularly that woman whom El had caught reprimanding them during their first encounter so they could sit while eating their food. He could feel the weight of their treasured relationship even from afar.


    Yet, it had all been cruelly ripped apart. From a distance, El recognized her. The woman bound to the pillar was Rima, a staff member of the restaurant with the name Ran had mentioned. She had died three days ago, but it appeared her body was deliberately preserved. El knew very well what happened to corpses after three days; her body should have shown signs of decay by now, with flies buzzing around. But there was nothing ¨C no signs of rot, no swarming insects.


    One other detail that gnawed at him was that among the twelve figures kneeling in the center, he spotted the old man he had encountered with ''the man'' at the restaurant ¨C whose name was Old Tigo. El wanted to ask the others about it, but he chose to keep his thoughts to himself after sensing the solemnity in the air.


    He might not have been the most perceptive when it came to reading the atmosphere, as he realized his lack of common sense might have already offended others unintentionally. Yet, for this particular moment, El knew and understood undoubtedly that it was best to keep his mouth shut in this somber, grieving ambiance. Unlike before, when he tried to lighten the mood by complimenting Ran just as she explained what had happened to that woman, Rima, it had created an awkward strain for the rest of their journey.


    Now, though, he felt sadness creeping in, a reflection of the emotions swirling around him ¨C originating from all of them. Deep inside, he recognized that he was affected by all of their grief.


    Death had been a common occurrence in the village where he had lived before, with funerals happening every three days, or maybe weeks, or if the villagers were unlucky, they went to have a funeral every day. Some had even resorted to cannibalism just to survive another day, which had made El wary of everyone around him in that village.


    So, El assumed he was supposed to feel nothing. But...


    ''But why?'' El questioned himself. Why did tears threaten to fall from his eyes? Perhaps it was the sheer number of people around him, overwhelming him with their collective sorrow as if a heavy weight pressed against his chest. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists tightly, determined not to let a single tear fall. It had been a mistake to cry in the restaurant that day. Not this time. He had already promised his uncle.


    Meanwhile, all twenty-five members on that upper floor of the building, including El, watched in silence, with Sir Giles behind Ran ¨C crossing his arms over his chest. The veins on his forehead and arms bulged, throbbing continuously. On the other side, one among them held an odd-looking device that El couldn''t identify, as its purpose was a mystery to him. Later, he would learn that it was actually a camera, recording the somber scene currently unfolding below, in the yard of the mayor''s office.


    "Sir Giles, what do you all want to do after this?" Ran asked with a shaky voice, not taking her sight away from the platform.


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    "You all kids should get back to the base once this is over. I''m sorry, but there is no leniency this time," Sir Giles replied sternly to Ran''s question, yet, she remained silent, which made Sir Giles behind her back could only let out a rueful sigh.


    As the mayor rose from his seat and approached the platform, the murmurs of the Mirthwater residents in the front rows gradually faded until no one dared to utter a single word anymore.


    The mayor''s name was Lucca Accard ¨C Accard being the name of his family, granted by the emperor himself. It was said that he had once been a Commander in the Vanguards, earning high merit in the war against the Tribals. After unfortunately suffering severe injuries in that conflict, he retired from his position and was subsequently appointed as the mayor of Mirthwater City by the emperor.


    Even so, the residents of this city not only respected him but also feared him. He was widely known for his close connections with the royal family. Moreover, there was a persistent rumor that he had also once served as a Keeper in the main Church of Origin, which was reputed among all residents of the empire for being fiercely protective of its own members, even after they left their positions.


    Mayor Lucca approached the execution ground step by step, eventually climbing up onto the platform. As he turned to face the twelve kneeling figures ¨C those people, except for the owner of the restaurant ¨C began to cry, pleading for his mercy.


    "Please, Mayor Lucca. Please!?? We didn''t do anything¡­"


    "Please¡­ I have a family at home. I can''t leave them like this."


    "My mother, Mayor. My mother is in the hospital right now. She is sick¡­ Please let me go¡­"


    "We''re innocent. We had nothing to do with what happened to that noble. Please¡­ hic, hic, hic¡­ please¡­"


    "I have a fianc¨¦, sir. I will be married three months from now. Have mercy¡­"


    "¡­"


    "¡­"


    "Silence!!!" one of the five guards present on the platform abruptly snapped at them, cutting off their incessant pleas. His loud voice made most of them flinch, trembling in fear. One of the waiters from the restaurant, who wasn¡¯t bothered by the shout, instead glared at the mayor; only to be struck on the head by the guard''s long gun who quickly approached the one who dared enough to have such poor, disgraceful conduct directed directly to the mayor. Blood streamed from that waiter''s wound, soaking the ground beneath him.


    The other four guards stood in silence, their legs straight and arms holding their guns at the ready. They wore no expression on their faces, for the only thing that mattered to them as guards was obedience ¨C nothing more, nothing less. It had already been ingrained in the very essence of their being from the very moment they were trained and joined this sacred position, to defend the majesty of the one who held high in the eyes of the emperor.


    "You''ll see this, Tigo. The innocents; have been implicated by your foolishness," the mayor said to the kneeling old man positioned in the middle of the group. His eyes appeared to hold no emotion inside ¨C just pure, unending chilling gaze.


    Old Tigo, his disheveled white hair framing a face and body marred by a multitude of wounds, from burns and blunt trauma ¨C to lacerations inflicted by sharp weapons. He now bore a sorrowful expression. He had endured severe torture before the execution, unlike the others who were merely confined behind steel bars; yet their ultimate end would be equally tragic. From this moment on, any of their families would be thrown to the underside.


    With only three fingers remaining on his hands, Old Tigo struggled to move his parched throat, sight cloudy in defeat, regret, and loss. Eventually, his dry lips parted, allowing a string of heavy words to escape, broken and hoarse ¨C while struggling to lift his head to meet Mayor Lucca''s eyes. "Yes, it was indeed my fault. How terribly foolish I am, as I underestimated your cruelty. You choose to side with their iniquity at the end. How deep have you fallen, comrade?"


    ...


    <b><i>(A/N: A last or second name was considered sacred and was forbidden for commoners to use unless formally granted by the emperor or Dukes of the empire. Thus, last names were reserved for the nobility or those of status, such as wealthy merchants or knights who had earned the right to a second name. So, it didn¡¯t matter if the commoners had to share the same or similar names among themselves.)</i></b>


    * * *

 Chapter 25. Past, Present, And Regret; Part 1

    * * *


    "How deep have you fallen, comrade?" Old Tigo''s vision was vague from the torture, but even then, he knew who was in front of him. That voice was unmistakably coming from one of his old friends.


    "Fallen," Mayor Lucca said, and the corner of his lips raised into a smile ¨C more accurately, a sneer. "Stop with your flowery words, Tigo. You and I know well enough what kind of person you actually were in the past! I bet it was in your plan to sacrifice these kids¡­"


    "Indeed, old friend. The past me really is unbearable. Cough, cough, cough. Such is the life of me, the deserter¡­" Old Tigo''s coughing fit intensified, accompanied by blood streaming down from his lips and staining his plain white shirt and brown pants, which were the attire of the condemned at their execution stage: white, symbolizing a prayer for a better next life, and brown, representing their redemption upon the soil of Threa, where their blood would be spilled.


    As Mayor Lucca watched over Old Tigo, he turned and opened his mouth, this time directing his words to the rest of the kneeling figures, one of whom had been struck by a guard before and now lay unconscious. Based on how much blood had flowed from the wound, perhaps he was dying. "Any last words???"


    Their eyes widened, still expecting the former heart to soften at their pleas, especially since they were truly innocent and had nothing to do with the accused crime that had fallen upon their names.


    "Please. For the sake of our past relationship, let them go, Lucca. I know you well enough. There must be something of you still left in there. Please¡­ I beg you." Old Tigo interjected from the side. He then let his head fall to the ground, and with a *Thud*, it crashed heavily on the wooden platform, oozing blood from the fresh wound on his forehead.


    "Not only you¡¯re an old man without dignity, but you have even gladly thrown your pride away by kneeling in front of me, your junior. How much of a shame you are now, Tigo," Mayor Lucca said with an intonation of unconcealed mockery, yet his face remained icy. Except for the curl on his lips, he was as cold and poker-faced as he had been from the start.


    "I don''t care. No matter how much you insult me. Mock me. Beat me. Torture me. I don''t care. Yes, I am nothing but trash. I am a nobody. Yes, it is what I am now. An old man without dignity. Honor. Pride of a knight I once was. But just please!!? Please just this once, Lucca, please. Let them go!!!"


    Finding no response whatsoever, Old Tigo lifted his head to look directly at the supposed face ¨C perhaps the eyes of Mayor Lucca. Blood had now fallen from his forehead, even filling his eyes and flowing down to his chin, creating a sight resembled that of someone who was crying in tears of blood. He begged once more, hoping to soften the heart of his old friend.


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    "Look at that girl. Her corpse was tied there for three days. Three days. Her corpse, Lucca. She can''t even rest in peace. They denied her of it, even just for such a simple funeral ¨C cough, cough, cough. And what is the cause of her death? Just because she slapped the one who wanted to rape her. Can''t you see it, Lucca? Can''t you see how they don''t even see us as human beings?"


    Old Tigo spoke all of that between his tears of blood and bile coming up with his coughs, his voice growing raspier the longer he spoke. The other eleven kneeling figures who heard what Old Tigo was saying began to cry as well. Meanwhile, atop the tall, abandoned building, where El, Ran, Sir Giles, and the rest of the members stayed, they could hear Old Tigo''s voice clearly through a black device connected to somewhere on the platform below. While Ran was currently sobbing, El and the boy just beside Ran were busy fighting with all their intention to win against the tears that were already falling drop by drop defiantly from their eyes.


    "Her name was Rima. She had a little sister living on the underside. She worked in the restaurant tirelessly and took holidays only after I forced her tens of times. She and I often bickered over such small issues. And when I asked her about it, she said she did all of that to make sure her sister could drink the overpriced medicine sold in the city. She also said her little sister was the only family she had left. And now, that little girl lost her only big sister. Her only family. Can you see that?" at the last of his words, Tigo screamed. His face twisted while looking at Mayor Lucca, who maintained tranquility and lack of concern as if no rain could ever make a ripple on the surface of his face.


    "They too had family. Waiting for them to come home," Old Tigo mentioned the rest of the figures at his side who were forced to kneel. They were now sobbing uncontrollably hearing Old Tigo begging for them. He had always been there as their unbridled, gruff boss who barked orders loudly, with an unkempt appearance, yet acted like a grandpa figure with his wizened advice every time they came to him with trouble in their lives.


    "All of them are like family to me. We share our time together in the restaurant. I purposely didn¡¯t overcharge the customers and only served those who respected the food cooked by the chefs. And knew, not to leave any leftovers on their plates. Just like what you said that time, ''Only those who know of hunger understand the grace of a meal.'' I still remember it, Lucca. I still remember it¡­ junior¡­"


    Just as the word ''junior'' slipped out from Old Tigo''s mouth, Mayor Lucca''s face twitched, but it all happened only for a moment.


    Mayor Lucca then stepped to the side, much to the relief of Old Tigo. He heard the creaking footsteps of someone walking closer to their back. Old Tigo heaved a sigh of solace, wondering what his old friend would do to settle this. It was fine if it was just him who died here. At least he could amend all of his mistakes while wondering if he could see Rima in the afterlife ¨C that is, if the afterlife truly existed, just like what the Lectors from the Church of Origin preached.


    "So, was that all for the last words?" just as that icy-cold query came out from between the gaps of Mayor Lucca''s teeth, a gunshot rang


    out, instantly killing one of the kneeling figures. The shocking sound sent ripples of disbelief through Old Tigo and the group of onlookers gathered atop the building.


    *Bang*


    *Thud*

 Chapter 26. Past, Present, And Regret; Part 2

    "So, was that all for the last words?"


    *Bang*


    *Bang*


    *Thud*


    *Bang*


    Old Tigo widened his eyes in horror as he watched one of his workers fall in his own blood. On the other hand, Mayor Lucca continued firing shots into the heads or hearts of the others. All of his shots were always on the mark. The others, except Old Tigo ¨C stood up in panic and tried to run away with all the strength they could muster at that very spark of the moment, attempting one last chance to save themselves from being helplessly murdered; alas, it was by no means possible for them to survive any of this. Horrified gasps rang out from the Mirthwater residents, especially from those in the backline.


    Old Tigo himself knew what Mayor Lucca''s actions signified, and he closed his eyes in defeat. Two of the restaurant workers managed to jump down from the platform, but they were still shot by Mayor Lucca and the other guards who joined in executing the rest of them. With blood drenching the grass and the wooden board of the raised platform, it dripped below ¨C hand in hand with the lives and souls that involuntarily slipped out from their fleshy bodies.


    Everything went quiescent. A serenity that lulled the victims out of their dreams. That was it, until the front rows of the residents in the city, near the gate of the yard of the Mayor''s Office ¨C along with the nobles on the other side, began cheering and clapping at the spectacular performance led by Mayor Lucca.


    Mayor Lucca himself walked to the back of the temporary platform, bending his back politely to bow in the direction of the nobility with a faint, mirthless smile on his face. Shortly after, he turned back and walked steadily, step by step, to the back of Old Tigo, whose head was still plastered on the wooden floor. Taking a handful of the latter''s hair in his hand, he pulled upward the head of Old Tigo who was still in a daze.


    Mayor Lucca then bent down and mumbled something to his ear. "Don''t try to talk your way out of this, senior. This execution is all just a ruse. You know what they are actually looking for, right?" there was a chilling edge to his tone, a sinister allure that coiled around his words like a serpent, enticing its prey to surrender to the darkness. It was the kind of voice that sent shivers down the spine, a haunting whisper that promised both dread and inevitability ¨C as if a devil were beckoning its sacrifice to embrace the abyss.


    "¡­ But they had nothing to do with all of this?" Old Tigo choked on his own words. The desperation in his voice rose after witnessing the unjust loss of lives that should have been spared. Tears mixed with blood streamed once again down his face. His breath hitched as he struggled to comprehend the senselessness and inanity of it all.


    "These are good people, Lucca¡­ They are just trying to survive, and yet what have you done? They pay the price for the greed of others who never have enough!" each word was laced with profound senses of forlornness, a cry for justice and integrity that seemed to fall on deaf ears, leaving him feeling utterly defeated in the face of such unnecessary tragedy.


    Mayor Lucca countered by only raising one of his eyebrows in humorless hilarity and slight boredom. "Yes, they do. But you know well enough that in our line of work, there are always consequences. Don¡¯t tell me you forgot that too. It has always been this way for the longest time. When you mess with them, the others around you pay the same price. I just do what I should do. At least their death is swift enough. What more could you ask? Now tell me, where do you hide it?"


    "¡­ ahahaha¡­ ahahaha¡­ ahahahhahahahha¡­" Old Tigo''s maniacal laughter gradually grew louder and more piercing, reverberating like a death knell. Each cackle was knotted with sorrow, a desperate attempt to mask the anguish that clawed at his insides.


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    "I see that you have lost your mind¡­" Mayor Lucca mocked him, his voice dripping with disdain.


    "Now, I understand. I understand. Is this how you vent it out? Like a child, you are, huh, Lucca? You pathetic bastard have sunk to this degree ¨C to become an obedient, dirty dog; wagging your tail, licking their asses. ARE YOU PROUD OF THAT? YOU FCKING SH*T. SHAME ON YOU!!!!!!! eiciuhfdjgurhuasdfjgur hsajcdjfdgursdjfhsdguuvnersd¡­"


    "¡­ I see that mingling with people on the underside has changed your demeanor to be more uncouth and unruly. I knew from the start that despite your noble background, you were an oafish. So unbefitting of that name¡­"


    "SO WHAT??? At least I am better than you. WAY BETTER THAN YOU!!! For a bastard who once called the nobility <i>c*nt horses, you sure fit that spectacularly, willingly becoming a servant licking their rumps and sh*t!!?</i>


    Wait, then what does that make you? A pig hypocrite b*tthole perhaps? Or maybe, their spunk, you punk!!!" Old Tigo rants and rave in incivility, his voice a cacophony of fury and uncontrollable anger. Each word dripped with venom, a desperate attempt to claw back some semblance of dignity. Each insult hurled was a cathartic release to this unknown man before him.


    It was immediately evident that all of those curses hurled at Mayor Lucca affected him greatly. This time, his face turned a darker shade instantly, his eyebrows knitted tightly, and his grim eyes twitched repeatedly. His grip on Old Tigo''s hair became harsher, crueler, and more vicious, pulling many strands of the latter''s hair with unmerciful passion.


    Old Tigo fought through the pain that threatened to tear his senses apart, keeping his mind clear to fling more obscenities to provoke Mayor Lucca. "You angry, huh? So, you do get angry, huh? I thought all of your emotions had been dumped in a filthy crap. Is it because that was how you cursed when you were still with us? No worries, I have one more guess. Let''s see. It must be because of them, isn''t it? You lost your wife, your son, your daughter. All of your family. So, you vent it out on the others¡­"


    Unexpectedly, Mayor Lucca cut off Old Tigo''s words by placidly whispering something in his ear, so none other than Old Tigo would know what his actual words were. However, the people at the top of the building managed to hear it, albeit vague, shaky, and breathy.


    "Yes. It was indeed the case. Why should I be the only one who lost mine? Why can''t the others feel the same way? I hate it. I truly hate it. So, I promised myself to torment others just like how I''ve been tormented. Don''t worry, you said before that child had a little sister too, right? I will hunt her down and send her too, soon ¨C to his big sister, so they could be together in the afterlife as a family. You see, at least I am that benevolent. Not like those from the Central¡­"


    Like an unforeseen bolt from a blue sky, Old Tigo left agape and wide-eyed in shock, never expecting him to really say that with plain, murderous intention. It was no joke, and Old Tigo knew him well enough, along with all of his experiences so far, to truly understand that he meant it. In disbelief, his lips shook like leaves in a torrential rain. "How? How can you say that, you devil¡­"


    Without even letting Old Tigo finish his words, Mayor Lucca let go of his hair, which made him eventually fall to the ground. Stood up, he swiftly cocked the gun in his arm, then fired without hesitation.


    *Bang*


    *Bang*


    *Bang*


    *Bang*


    *Bang*


    It was five times in a row. Flowers of blood bloomed at Old Tigo''s spine, shoulders, and legs, incapacitating him and inflicting tremendous pain. Mayor Lucca drew closer and kneeled once more at Old Tigo''s side. "So, will you tell me now, Tigo, so I can make your death swift at least? We don''t need to keep wasting our time playing this fictitious game do we, old friend? You know regardless of what you do, what words you use, or what will happen, it all eventually comes to one single end¡­"


    "Is he here?" gritted his teeth, Old Tigo struggled to utter the question between his pained breaths.


    "Yes¡­" Mayor Lucca responded briefly. The corner of his eyes peeked in the direction of the top building.


    Realizing something, El subconsciously turned to his back, specifically at Sir Giles. And oh boy, he regretted it immensely after that. The funny, casual Sir Giles he had known earlier never looked that scary to him. El also noticed that there were bluish hue veins with hints of purple on the surface of his whole left arm and left neck, enveloping half of his face too.


    His eyes glared in a towering rage at the platform below, sending a spine-chilling sensation that overlayed all over El''s entire skin. Just as he hastily turned his attention back to the event unfolding below, the device that transmitted the sounds from there precipitously cut off, releasing a sudden burst of white noise.¡­

 Chapter 27. Who Are You; Part 1

    * * *


    ¡°What¡¯s happening, Ferr?¡± Sir Giles asked the man known as Ferr. He was not only responsible for holding the camera but also for bringing the device that allowed them to eavesdrop on the conversation below.


    After briefly checking his other equipment and the device itself to ensure everything was functioning properly, Ferr sighed and replied, ¡°I have no idea. Everything seems to be in order. The only possible issue could be that the bug connector on Old Tigo has been removed. It¡¯s really expensive¡­¡± His voice carried a weight of heartache, reflecting not just his concern for the camera but also the precarious situation surrounding Old Tigo.


    ¡­


    On the other side, after lifting Old Tigo again by the hair, Mayor Lucca suddenly thrust his finger, digging into the flesh behind the former''s ear. There was a suspicious bump clustered beneath the skin, and Old Tigo winced in pain.


    "Arrggghhh¡­" Old Tigo groaned, his body tensing as the pressure increased.


    Mayor Lucca then extracted a small metallic object that resembled a spider. Upon seeing that, he recognized it immediately. This was an outdated device used by people from the Central to listen covertly to the conversations of others. Due to its low production cost, a few of the Vanguard squads to this very day still employed it for reconnaissance, espionage, surveillance, or investigations into organizations suspected of posing a threat to the empire.


    "Nice one. Seems you are in it too, huh, Tigo? Not only do you mingle with people from the underside, but you even work with them!? Now tell me, where is it?" Mayor Lucca declared, his voice dripping with disdain as he crushed the device in his hand. The remnants fell to the ground, a testament to his anger.


    With great effort, Old Tigo slowly shifted his body, turning his shoulder, neck, and eyes to meet Mayor Lucca''s gaze. After much struggle, he finally succeeded. Face to face with the mayor, Tigo''s defiance surged. In a sudden act of rebellion, he spat directly onto Lucca''s face who managed to close his eyes in response to his unexpected action ¨C a mixture of blood and saliva landed on the latter¡¯s face.


    Old Tigo scoffed, his voice laced with contempt. "Heh, you f*cking loser. Over my dead body if you ever want to touch even a fraction of it!!"


    One of the guards, panicking, hastily brought a handkerchief to Mayor Lucca. The mayor apathetically accepted it, his expression unchanging as the guard quickly retreated back to his original position with inaudible steps (1). As Lucca wiped his face slowly, his indifferent eyes remained fixed on Old Tigo, who was busy gathering more saliva and blood in his mouth, preparing for another round of spittle. The mockery in his glowering eyes was unmistakable.


    "Crrraacccchhh¡­" Just as Old Tigo was about to spit again, Mayor Lucca swiftly pressed the handkerchief to his mouth, silencing him. Not finished yet, he followed up with a punch to Old Tigo''s face, causing his consciousness to teeter on the brink of slipping away.


    Old Tigo fell to the ground, regrettably landing headfirst, which created a wound that served as yet another source of blood flowing from his head. Grasping him by the collar, Mayor Lucca fixed his gaze upon him, their eyes locking in a fierce battle of wills.


    "C''mon, Tigo, stop this folly. Tell me!!? Where is it?"


    "If The Central is so amazing, why don''t they come here on their own? Let me guess. They''re afraid of germs, aren''t they? Damned puppies who can''t even look at sh*t without throwing up even though they are the ones who dumped it. Even a dog has much better morals than you all. Loser!!!" Old Tigo''s voice grew hoarser as he coughed, blood seeping even more from his mouth.


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    "If you don''t tell me now, you know they''ll torture you again, right? Once people from the Central arrive here, they will have no choice but to search your memories. You will lose everything. Even yourself by then. And your struggle now will be for nothing. Their dead too will be for nothing¡­"


    "Don''t you dare mention their dead right on my face!!!" Old Tigo gritted his teeth, eyes bursting fire at Lucca. "From the very first start, you can stop all of this. But you didn''t, you coward. You wretched monkey. It was all your fault. Coward!!!"


    As he spoke, blood, tears, and saliva spurted onto Mayor Lucca''s face, who closed his eyes. Seizing the moment, Old Tigo summoned all the strength he could muster and moved his head, attempting to bite the mayor''s nose. Lucca instinctively jerked his head back, and Old Tigo''s audacity was met with another punch that sent him crashing down once more to the ground.


    "C''mon. You''ll be tortured even worse than this if you don''t tell me now," Mayor Lucca¡¯s frown deepened as he tightened his grip on Old Tigo''s collar.


    "Try me then. Cough, cough, cough. Well, here''s a hint. I lost all my magic not because of the injury, but because I used all of it until it broke; to lock my mind. Try it then. TRY IT!!! Let''s see how many I manage to kill once they dare to touch the ''Rune'' inside my head. Cough, cough, cough¡­" Old Tigo''s eyes blazed with an unquenchable fury and unwavering resolve, a fire that would endure eternally, impervious to the torrents of water poured upon it. Regardless of the passage of time, that fierce flame would remain steadfast and unaltered.


    "So, you let yourself become this old and sickly just to hide it?"


    "Ha, at least I''m not like you, who submitted willingly like the trash you are. Even if it means I''ll be damned forever, I won''t betray the others who died for this. Even Jess and Kris, those two scaredy cats, died like the heroes they are. What about you? You loser!!!"


    "What about me? What about me, Hahhh?" this time, the mayor fixed a knife-like glare at Old Tigo, his voice escalating to a fever pitch. His face transformed into a grotesque mask of wrath; each feature twisted by a tempest of violent, uncontrollable rage. The emotions he had long suppressed erupted violently, spilling forth like a torrent unleashed from a tightly sealed reservoir deep within his soul.


    "What is it you all idiots are actually fighting for? For those bastards who stabbed you in the back when they had the chance? We fight for them. We sacrifice all of our time to train ourselves so we can protect them, better. But once a platter of gold is served onto their faces, what then? They willingly betray us. Did you forget how the others died?" he gritted his teeth to lower his voice. Eyes wide open in the exchange of this staggering ire between the two of them.


    "But not all of them are wrong. Lots of them are innocent. Have you lost your mind to blame everyone your eyes can see?" Old Tigo flared back without fear, his voice unwavering against Mayor Lucca.


    As Mayor Lucca spoke, his voice dripped with an unsettling calmness, "¡­ they are innocent. Yes. Until they aren''t anymore¡­" Mayor Lucca''s neck twitched slightly to the side, a subtle yet unsettling, grotesque movement. For a fleeting moment, Lucca''s eyes glazed over, vacant and hollow as if an unfamiliar shadow had passed over his soul.


    While this happened, Old Tigo''s heart galloped. He widened his eyes in horror. His breath hitched in his throat as he noticed something sinister writhing beneath the skin of Lucca''s face. It began at the exposed flesh of his neck, a ripple that slithered upward, weaving its way under the taut skin. Tigo''s sight was then drawn to the corner of Lucca''s right eye, where countless tiny legs emerged; writhing in a macabre dance. The sight was reminiscent of a millipede, but far more disturbing ¨C an abomination that defied nature itself.


    "Wha-what. What are you? ¡­ who are you?" Tigo''s trembling lips tightened as he tried to comprehend the mystery behind what was happening to Lucca, his old friend from the past when they were still knights under The Central Region (2).


    ¡­


    <b>(A/N)</b>


    <i>(1) I realize it might seem a bit redundant to mention this now, but I just wanted to clarify that; there are special types of boots in this novel designed to conceal a person''s footsteps. Given the story had a bit of sci-fi elements in the mix, I thought it was worth noting. So yeah. That was what it was.</i>


    <i>(2) <b>"The Central"</b> was in fact, served as the capital and the very heart of the Eschaton Empire, strategically located at the midpoint of the Four Vassal States. The current events of the novel unfold in Ralrain, one of these four vassals, specifically within the city of Mirthwater.</i>