This is chapter 1 of a story I've had on my mind for roughly a year or so. Although one time I got to ~12000 words, I sort of always quit myself whenever I try to do it, the usual writer's block thing that gets all my stories. This was inspired by two characters in homeward bounders(one of my favorite books) but as it so happens, they're now... nothing alike. At all.
Anyways, in recent weeks, I've taken a liking to the story. Although most of the plot has been worked out(as always), I've tweaked a crapload of the story and mainly the characters.
Most Notably, however, is that I'm trying out a different style of writing, much different than my usual. I'd say that it is boring, but then again, I've always found my own writings boring...
Anyways, comment on what I've got down so far, there's a fair bit.
Anyways, in recent weeks, I've taken a liking to the story. Although most of the plot has been worked out(as always), I've tweaked a crapload of the story and mainly the characters.
Most Notably, however, is that I'm trying out a different style of writing, much different than my usual. I'd say that it is boring, but then again, I've always found my own writings boring...
Anyways, comment on what I've got down so far, there's a fair bit.
Demon Hunter Reyn
By Anh Tuan Van
Chapter 1
I: Death
The apostle from the underworld was once in my very grasps.
And I let him go, out of my fingers and out of my life.
Rather...
He had let me go. He had laughed as he did, knowing the hell that would come.
He had left the mark on me, his mark. Even now, my right eye rots. The skin dead and burned, he had left his dark mark.
He had left, the monster in human flesh.
I wanted to die; I wished I had died, so that I could follow my family, my friends, and my beloved, into the next world.
But no, he denied it to me. He denied me my wish, the wish that he had wrought me to make. He left me alive, scarred, weak and almost dead, but alive.
He didn’t give me death, what I did wish, for he knew that life was hell, reality the true nightmare.
II: Captured
The traders, the Keissian Traders, came two days later. The traders that were from the Eru-Mar region of the continent were people that periodically would visit our region. They were traders of all kinds of material, from confections and spices, to weaponry and slavery. They used the large shaggy creatures called camels to move, never trading for horses, and always wore these strange and heavy clothing that almost completely covered their bodies. I was told by best mate Marynth that it was because they were from a very hot and dry place, the so called desert, which caused them to live that way. Horses weren’t supposed to be able to live there, he said, and you had to wear things like that or else you’d dry up or something. I didn’t exactly know why this was so; I never really cared about much anything outside of my village, and even when I was told why, I never really paid attention.
Before the traders came, our village, Jirru-Sei, we were setting things up specifically for their arrival. When they came, they came not in little packs, but in very large troupes. They seemed to be very knowledgeable about the weather patterns; whenever they came, we were almost done with the harvests, and had a variety of material to trade. So, our village eagerly anticipated each of their arrivals as they brought the strange, exotic things for us to marvel and trade with. Everyone was setting everything up...
And then, the scouts, usually two or three of the few of them that had horseback, arrived. Jirru-Sei was located right below the crest of a hill, and from the hill the road leads into the village. From there, we populated most of the valley. That way, when someone comes from the road, they can usually get a beautiful glimpse of Jirru-Sei before they arrived.
They scouts came, and they saw exactly what it was...
Our village was gone. Decimated. From the core houses at the town square, to the isolated shacks at the field... they were gone. Burned down, apparently, to ashen, blackened crisps. The very land was scorched; the once green grass now burned and grey, gently swayed by the wind and then gone, leaving nothing but desolate earth.
Still, even still... that was not the worst part.
The worst part was the bodies.
The bodies of the people that once lived there, no, the bodies of people that once lived. The shocking part was the bodies, all those bodies.
Among them...
My mother, and my father...
My younger sister Seyin...
My best mate Marynth...
Lerra, Kinya, Sessin, Olf the butcher, Maine the storyteller...
They were dead, they were all dead, and their corpses piled up around me.
The scouts of the traders stood there, I believe, stood there for a long, unmoving while. Then, they whirled, pulling back the reigns on their horses, and started shouting something to the group in their own weird tongue. After a brief and fast discussion, one of them went behind, likely to inform the others of what they had seen, while the other slowly came forward towards our destroyed and barren village.
I laid there, unmoving. I laid at the very center of the masses of unmoving bodies, the bodies of people that I knew, people I had spent my whole life amongst. Not to say that these bodies were whole, of course; the monster, that damned being, had fun with everyone first. Heads were scattered throughout, entire limbs were torn off, and corpses were sliced and mauled, sometimes after they had died. The ones that the monster didn’t get to, or weren’t able to get to, were completely blackened by the fire it had created. And he had laughed, laughed with joy as his body was soaked in my kin’s blood and bodies.
Life didn’t reside here now, but the absence of life. This was death’s little experiment, a project of his, an insane little mistake, I didn’t know, I didn’t know, I just don’t know what had happened.
The trader came towards me. At first, I didn’t know why, although to be honest my though process was just a little bit slow then. Then I realized: I was the only one who was whole, unscarred and unburned, the only corpse that was completely. Also, I lied directly at the town square, off and by myself. I had run around, frantic and going insane by the very sights that I was seeing, but then suddenly, he and I were centered off, right in the middle of where the town square used to be, used to be cause a town square needs a town, and a town can’t exist when there were no living in it. We were there, and he had came, marked me, marked my eye, laughing, laughing at the death I have seen and the life I would have, the very insane irony of that.
It had been hours, I know that. I had to time measurer with me, lying there, but I know that it had been a while. The scout was crossing the mark of guarding evil, the mark of guarding the yami, over his chest as he did so. After a brief pause, he vomited over the side of his horse, seeing the horror that lied before him. You can’t believe such things are happening, obviously; the scout had absolutely no preparation for this, he could not understand the sight, the madness and insanity, and that is what one does when face with such utter revulsion, you reject it, you vomit the insanity out of your mind, pause for a damned moment.
The scout lightly smacked the horse into action, and the horse quietly proceeded forth, its feet going clop-clop-clop upon the earth, the only sound that I could hear.
He approached me. I was unscathed, save for my eye. He leaned over his horse, and stared down. He jumped away for a moment when he realized that I was still living; the blood that poured down my eyes like a broth pot spilled probably made him assume that I was dead. I was not, though, not dead, but still quite virile in the hell that was ever after my life. I was alive. It was everyone else, every single other person that I know and had known that was dead.
Four others using similar horses appeared on the crest of the hill, and the scout before me turned to them and shouted, “Ek rei zisara kin!” I wonder exactly what he said. I believe that he was talking about me; I was almost sure that the tongue he used was that of Jailze, of the southern desert tongues. I recognized the word kin as boy.
The scout leaned over me, and grasped my body. From then on, I drifted briefly in and out of consciousness. I remember being carried on the horse, the up and down movement that shook the very core of myself as the horse moved, and of course I could remember the last sight I ever had of my home village… As the horse rode up the crest of the hill, my eyes briefly opened and with it came temporary consciousness. I saw it all, what remained of my village, my bodies, the sight so horrible that made the journeyman trader retch.
And this… this was the place that I was raised. It was so much… too much… the sickness and weakness within my body, within my stomach the pure icy pain that destroyed my eyes, this shattering of my mind… It was I could do but wish for death, its embrace.
III: The Traders
“Rem kin zo rei etch echi norra.”
Those were the first words that came to me as consciousness returned to me, although the language made as little sense as ever. My eyes fluttered, and I opened them, before a sharp and intense pain broke across my body, the epicenter of which was my right eye. Immediately, my hand rose to my eye, my mouth still screaming as I did so.
Tow hands pinned me down, pushing my abdomen and preventing me from squirming. Another pair of hands grasped my legs, and voices came forth, some of them in my own tongue, telling me to calm down. It didn’t really help much, since most of the voices were yelling at me.
Someone splashed water on my face, and then as some of it dripped upon the eye. A cool, stinging sensation washed over me, and my jerking grew still to a murmuring shiver. The pain was frozen, but not gone, not yet.
“Fwei kin ji!” Yelled one of the voices. The word kin... boy again? They were talking about me?
A hand smacked my cheek, and I yelped. Wincing, I slowly clamped down my right eye while opening my right, and I saw three men in front of me, Keissian traders of the desert with the accompanying skin tone. One of them said, “Do you understand me, north boy?”
North boy. That was how they always called us that lived north of the desert, the north men, the north girls, the north boys.
I opened my eyes and slowly stuttered, “Y... yes... I... I-I understand...” My lips cracked.
He seemed to nod. “Good. Periodically, we shall apply treatment to your wounds, and soon we’ll give some ointment for your eye as well.”
A weight I could not lift was felt by my open eye, and thus it closed. There was movement as the people that held me down retreated. I continued to gasp.
I felt a movement and then shadow upon my skin. The same voice said, “What happened to Jirru-Sei?”
I shivered.
“The village was recently destroyed, and its people killed. Farmland, the homes of the people, the people themselves, everything was burned by fire and ravaged by beast.” A hand curled around the shirt that I wore, and the man whispered into my ears, with a deathly and greedy voice, “What did happen?”
I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t, I just couldn’t. I was in a minor agony at the moment, and I still could not remember everything... maybe I didn’t want to remember.
It was horrible. “I... It...”
The hand that grasped my clothing tightened for a moment, and I knew at that moment that they would destroy me, take one of the plentiful knives and stab it into my body, my defenseless body. They were traders, which were different from mercenaries only in what service they presented... and I had to money, equivalent to having no power... they would kill me, and throw me down into the wreckage that used to be no home...
And then the hand loosened. The killing intent evaporated. I gasped for air, air that I needed so very much.
“Enough,” said the man, with just a hunt of satisfaction. I winced, and then opened my tear-filled eye. The man turned to the others, and pointed in a direction. “Kin zaza neying ek Jirru-Sei ek manda!” He made one or two gestures with his hand, and I briefly saw two dark figures, probably the others that held me down.
“What... you’d... say?” managed I.
The man gave me a stare, one cold and uncaring. “We are about to raid what is left of your village. Some of the scouts have reported that it seems the destruction hurt not the coin of your fellow townsmen.”
I gasped, the shock of the man’s words almost palpable, as if he was just beat on my chest. Wincing, my hands tightened, turning into a fist.
The man gave a harsh laugh. “I am sorry for what has happened to you, kin zo rei, but in the end, it would simply be a waste to leave your dead coin that they would be using not.”
“What... is... kin zo rei?” asked I, after a strain.
The man seemed thoughtful after a moment. “It may be... either “ruined boy,” or “abandoned boy...” Yes, it is one of those.” He looked down to me. “What is your name then, boy?”
I tried moving my body, and found it responsive, even if only somewhat. On the surface on which I lied, I turned away from him, showing the man my back. I refuse to respond.
The man smacked me on my shoulder. “I ask only out of politeness, and maybe respect that you have survived whatever it was that came.” Pause did he. “Either way, there is no need for me to know your name. I doubt we will be seeing one another after the next cycle of days or two.”
Cycle of days? What will be happening? After seven days, what will happen?
I winced, my head pounding and pounding, my eye burning and yet numbing, as if the sensation was fading away, and everything a dream.
IV: Naydi
Later I did find that I was in one of the carriages that the traders rode. For the most part, I stayed in there all day, feeling unnaturally weak, with any bump felt magnified and filtered in pain. My head was barely clear for any amount of time, and I found myself in delusion quite often.
Sometimes... I felt better within these hallucinations I felt. I would see myself younger, playing around with my best mate Marynth, as we ran around the village, seeing who was faster, or teasing the girls while they threw things at us. Later, as we grew older, we would tease the girls no longer, and the same washer girls that we teased would soon become beautiful and flirty, and lead us on our own games. Of course, I always knew that Marynth had his eye on my younger sister, but I’m quite sure he knew that unless I approved, he wouldn’t be going anywhere...
And then, the carriage would bump on some loose rock, or because the steed went out of control, and then I would be pulled back, away from a childhood, away from friends and family, and back into reality, where I would feel the aching agony and a perpetual headache, unable to discern who was who. When I have returned, I would regret no being in that hallucination.
It took an entire rising of the sun and setting of the sun in order for the Keissian traders to pillage my hometown, and the lucid moments felt horrible as I knew what they were doing. They would come back, holding entire bags of coins that the fellow townsmen had stashed away, and the pillagers would just laugh and laugh, flinging coin at each other in its abundance. Occasionally, they would bring back undamaged valuables, such as a necklace or a rare carving. Sometimes, I was allowed to look at some, if my mind was clear. Some I recognized, and others I did not.
The next day, as the edges of the sun’s embrace barely tinged the sky, I was awoken, and found us leaving.
“Still,” said a voice, one of female persuasion. I opened my eyes, to find out I could not, and winced as I clamped down my damaged eye from exposure.
Before me was a girl somewhat older than me by at least three winters. Her skin was lighter than that of the traders, but darker than mine, and her dark-brown hair was cut short. She wore clothes that were of inferior quality to the man that had spoken to me.
I closed my eyes, feeling a drop of sweat from the exertion of opening my eyes in the first place. “What do you mean, still?” asked I.
“I...I...” The girl seemed to struggle. “I... mean, you still.” I allowed myself a glanced, and found her frustrated. “Move... no, bad.”
I seemed to understand. I said slowly, “You want me to be still?” I let out of sigh, feeling weak.
She nodded. She had not learned my language recently, but I didn’t blame her: sexual equality was not as if it was a strong point among Keissian culture.
I sighed, and as the carriage rocked, I felt myself light-headed once more, feeling the consciousness of mine wavering.
A cool, wet towel was placed over my temple. “I... care for you,” the girl said. “I an Naydi.”
She said it wrong, but I know what she was talking about. She was a maid, my serving woman, assigned to take care of me.
Her name was Naydi.
Even when all of the people I knew were gone... I still heard the words “I care for you.” Even when the intentions were different... Those words, they felt so much better, almost liberating.
I close my eyes, and tried to sleep. When oblivion did come, I had regret and relief that it was simply that.
Jirru-Sei was not necessarily located the farthest north, as indicated by its green pastures and vegetation, but it was located farther away from conventional routes, being surrounded by mountains and forests. Because of that, it was often the last route for a trader, if at all. This being so, when the traders were finished with my village, our route was simple; they would follow the way down, to the nearing village as a brief rest, and then continue further south-southeast to a vital trading point between these northern lands and that of the Eru-Mar, the southern desert of the continent.
And I? What was to happen to me? I did not know. They didn’t leave me for dead, when they easily could. They didn’t need to waste resources such as feeding me, or rescuing me, save for retrieving information about the tragedy on what had befallen Jirru-Sei. They kept me alive, and while I harbored resentment at their pillage of my hometown, I was grateful for food and for Naydi’s company.
And speaking of Naydi... she was like a simple light within darkness. When she was around, I slept less fitfully, without longing dreams. She wiped away the sweat from my brow, she gave me food to eat and water to drink, an eye patch to cover the damaged eye. She tried to smile sometimes at me, and I was content for a smile to be here in this morbid space. She would try to say something in my tongue, and usually mess up, but sometimes there would be a comedic element in this, and I would laugh, augmented by the confused look on her face.
Maybe that was one of the ways that they saw use for me. The man that had spoken to me with my tongue arrived halfway through the first cycle of days, meaning about three of four days after we had left Jirru-Sei. He introduced himself as Amgen. He looked to Naydi.
“You have introduced yourself to her, have you not?”
From my cot, I managed, “Yes, I have.”
He looked to me, and gave a small smile. “She speaks your tongue quite horrible, does she not?” Naydi looked away, nervously chewing her bottom lip. I think, despite the laughter that followed his statement, Naydi knew enough to understand anyways.
I did not like it when the man smiled. He had a missing tooth, with which he had replaced with gold. The light of the golden tooth glared at me, sending a distrustful chill up my spine.
With something of a stone face, I murmured, “She just needs some practice; a teacher.”
“Aye, she does, but being on the road we are, there is something of a shortage of those.”
“You,” accused I, “speak competently.”
He nodded agreement, with something of saddened smile on his face. “I believe I do,” the man said, “but you see, knowledge of tongues is quite needed for my trade, and there are two young boys that are traveling with us, and I have to teach them first.” He gestured to Naydi. “Their need overweighs hers, and I will not be mocked for choosing to teach an older female over younger men.” He shrugged, almost comically, but there was a steely look in his eyes as he gazed at me.
“You want me,” said I, “to instruct her on as much as possible during the time here?”
“We have clothed you,” suddenly said the man, “we have fed you, and sated your thirst. We have saved you from the hands of death, kin zo rei, so something little as making conversation with the one that takes care of you is the least you could do, am I right?”
I sighed, and answered not.
“Good.” The man stood straight, and for the first time, despite the impairment in my vision, I could now see how tall and broad the man was, almost towering enough so that as he left, his short hair brushed the top of the carriage.
Pausing, Amgen turned around. “Do you have knowledge of your tongue’s writings?”
I turned away, feeling embarrassed. “I can read. I know not... of how to write.”
He nodded. “A shame.”
As he left, the large presence within the room was suddenly lifted, leaving something of awkwardness between Naydi and I. I tried to smile, although a shot of pain flash through my eyes, and I guess I winced instead.
“My name,” I decided to tell, “is Reyn.”
V: Life
The first trading point was one cycle of days after we had departed from my home. We had been traveling southward or south-easternward, following the usual trail. The steeds moved methodically, and thus Amgen told me we made good time; it was before winter, and the coming cold would not be chilling... yet.
Located at the edge of a great Tyn River was Ilysed. The Tyn River was one that was large, coming from the mountains up north. Two minor towns were located upper north, and thus there was easy passage for those people to traverse down here. Ilysed thus rose as a heavy importer and exporter using the river, as even further down stream another town was located, and near the delta end of the river was Ek Durf, the boundary point between the northern region and the Eru-Mar desert region.
A large man-made gate surrounded the edges of the town, enclosing the entire city. Sentries stalked atop this border, their arrows cocked at anyone that came. As the carriages of the Keissian traders neared, the gate loomed before us, apparently a daunting task for anyone to invade.
The carriage drivers had lit up torches as they came within sight of the city. Normally, the Keissians would set up came as the sun kissed the horizon’s edge and the tinged the sky with the warnings of night. Having wandered this path before, several times, being yearly traders, Amgen had knowledge of the land, and how far away we were. Deciding not set up camp, he and the rest thus pushed ahead, hoping to reach the village before dark. As they apparently wouldn’t make it, torches were passed around, to signal to the sentries of Ilysed that we were thieves not.
Amgen, with two scouts and mounts with him, trotted up the person who came out, probably the spokesperson. Noticeably, they both seemed familiar with one another.
A moment later, the meeting was adjoined. The other man gestured with a couple of shouts to open to gate, and as Amgen returned, the gate then welcomes us to come.
“You move yet?” Asked Naydi.
I paused. “Are you asking if I can move? If I have the ability to move?”
She nodded.
I stretched my legs, and tried flexing them. Although there was a weakness that lurked in the core of my marrow, they responded and coordinated my wishes with little lethargy. Flexing my hand, they responded. My arm was still weak, but I could get up.
The past few days, Naydi had been helping me get up, and at the very least, lean against the wall, sitting straight up. Tiredness settled into my body as I did so, particularly the first few tries, but as time passed, I began to feel better, and the strain was lessened, or at the very least I had learned to ignore it.
When he, the monster that had attacked my village, scarred me, it seemed as he had taken some of my lifeforce with him. With a single attack on my eye, I remember feeling as if the world exploded before me, the pain that blossomed through my body an indiscriminate agony. After wards, my body was sick and weak, and my consciousness barely kept itself lucid.
Honestly, I cannot say exactly what that attack was, but it was a monster, the man was beyond the rules of reality that bound humans. The man was a shade, I believe, a man possessed by a collection of dark spirits. Of course, I wouldn’t normally have believed in such a thing, demons and spirits and such, although there were plenty of the rich that paid demon hunters very well, especially in the Eru-Mar region. Now though... I now admit to the existence of forces beyond my understanding, having met one of those forces myself.
I shiver to remember.
I push away such thoughts, as I always did. I didn’t want to ponder on such things.
I took in a breath, trying my best to collect some vitality in my chest. Turning to Naydi, I asked, “Can you help me up?”
With Naydi’s help, I was able to push myself off the bed. Leaning heavy on her body, I found I was able to stand. I was able to stand, after an entire cycle of days mostly lying on the bed. The pressure applied to my feet felt made it feel like they were about to break, the strain, physical and mental, unbearable... But them, as I started to despair from ever using my legs again, move on my own volition, I remembered Naydi, the girl by my side, my hands on her and she supporting me. I groaned, and then took a step.
That was enough for me. Panting, I slammed myself against the wall, propping my body up. A small amount of beads of sweat littered my temple, daring to break and slide down my face. My arm shook.
But it was unbelievable. I did it. I did it, this simple and everyday task of moving my foot, up and down, and then taking a step forward. My chest was tight, lucidity questionable, and my arms shivered, but I did it.
I am one of the living, and it was this moment that I wished for a reunion with my family no longer. I lived, and with this step, I knew that many others were continuing, that I would live.
“Why cry?” questioned Naydi to I. Her fingers brushed the edge of my eyes. “Why are you cry?”
No, it wasn’t tears, it wasn’t tears, it was just sweat. Then a sliver of liquid fell from my eyes, and yes, I was crying, I was crying that I was alive.
By Anh Tuan Van
Chapter 1
I: Death
The apostle from the underworld was once in my very grasps.
And I let him go, out of my fingers and out of my life.
Rather...
He had let me go. He had laughed as he did, knowing the hell that would come.
He had left the mark on me, his mark. Even now, my right eye rots. The skin dead and burned, he had left his dark mark.
He had left, the monster in human flesh.
I wanted to die; I wished I had died, so that I could follow my family, my friends, and my beloved, into the next world.
But no, he denied it to me. He denied me my wish, the wish that he had wrought me to make. He left me alive, scarred, weak and almost dead, but alive.
He didn’t give me death, what I did wish, for he knew that life was hell, reality the true nightmare.
II: Captured
The traders, the Keissian Traders, came two days later. The traders that were from the Eru-Mar region of the continent were people that periodically would visit our region. They were traders of all kinds of material, from confections and spices, to weaponry and slavery. They used the large shaggy creatures called camels to move, never trading for horses, and always wore these strange and heavy clothing that almost completely covered their bodies. I was told by best mate Marynth that it was because they were from a very hot and dry place, the so called desert, which caused them to live that way. Horses weren’t supposed to be able to live there, he said, and you had to wear things like that or else you’d dry up or something. I didn’t exactly know why this was so; I never really cared about much anything outside of my village, and even when I was told why, I never really paid attention.
Before the traders came, our village, Jirru-Sei, we were setting things up specifically for their arrival. When they came, they came not in little packs, but in very large troupes. They seemed to be very knowledgeable about the weather patterns; whenever they came, we were almost done with the harvests, and had a variety of material to trade. So, our village eagerly anticipated each of their arrivals as they brought the strange, exotic things for us to marvel and trade with. Everyone was setting everything up...
And then, the scouts, usually two or three of the few of them that had horseback, arrived. Jirru-Sei was located right below the crest of a hill, and from the hill the road leads into the village. From there, we populated most of the valley. That way, when someone comes from the road, they can usually get a beautiful glimpse of Jirru-Sei before they arrived.
They scouts came, and they saw exactly what it was...
Our village was gone. Decimated. From the core houses at the town square, to the isolated shacks at the field... they were gone. Burned down, apparently, to ashen, blackened crisps. The very land was scorched; the once green grass now burned and grey, gently swayed by the wind and then gone, leaving nothing but desolate earth.
Still, even still... that was not the worst part.
The worst part was the bodies.
The bodies of the people that once lived there, no, the bodies of people that once lived. The shocking part was the bodies, all those bodies.
Among them...
My mother, and my father...
My younger sister Seyin...
My best mate Marynth...
Lerra, Kinya, Sessin, Olf the butcher, Maine the storyteller...
They were dead, they were all dead, and their corpses piled up around me.
The scouts of the traders stood there, I believe, stood there for a long, unmoving while. Then, they whirled, pulling back the reigns on their horses, and started shouting something to the group in their own weird tongue. After a brief and fast discussion, one of them went behind, likely to inform the others of what they had seen, while the other slowly came forward towards our destroyed and barren village.
I laid there, unmoving. I laid at the very center of the masses of unmoving bodies, the bodies of people that I knew, people I had spent my whole life amongst. Not to say that these bodies were whole, of course; the monster, that damned being, had fun with everyone first. Heads were scattered throughout, entire limbs were torn off, and corpses were sliced and mauled, sometimes after they had died. The ones that the monster didn’t get to, or weren’t able to get to, were completely blackened by the fire it had created. And he had laughed, laughed with joy as his body was soaked in my kin’s blood and bodies.
Life didn’t reside here now, but the absence of life. This was death’s little experiment, a project of his, an insane little mistake, I didn’t know, I didn’t know, I just don’t know what had happened.
The trader came towards me. At first, I didn’t know why, although to be honest my though process was just a little bit slow then. Then I realized: I was the only one who was whole, unscarred and unburned, the only corpse that was completely. Also, I lied directly at the town square, off and by myself. I had run around, frantic and going insane by the very sights that I was seeing, but then suddenly, he and I were centered off, right in the middle of where the town square used to be, used to be cause a town square needs a town, and a town can’t exist when there were no living in it. We were there, and he had came, marked me, marked my eye, laughing, laughing at the death I have seen and the life I would have, the very insane irony of that.
It had been hours, I know that. I had to time measurer with me, lying there, but I know that it had been a while. The scout was crossing the mark of guarding evil, the mark of guarding the yami, over his chest as he did so. After a brief pause, he vomited over the side of his horse, seeing the horror that lied before him. You can’t believe such things are happening, obviously; the scout had absolutely no preparation for this, he could not understand the sight, the madness and insanity, and that is what one does when face with such utter revulsion, you reject it, you vomit the insanity out of your mind, pause for a damned moment.
The scout lightly smacked the horse into action, and the horse quietly proceeded forth, its feet going clop-clop-clop upon the earth, the only sound that I could hear.
He approached me. I was unscathed, save for my eye. He leaned over his horse, and stared down. He jumped away for a moment when he realized that I was still living; the blood that poured down my eyes like a broth pot spilled probably made him assume that I was dead. I was not, though, not dead, but still quite virile in the hell that was ever after my life. I was alive. It was everyone else, every single other person that I know and had known that was dead.
Four others using similar horses appeared on the crest of the hill, and the scout before me turned to them and shouted, “Ek rei zisara kin!” I wonder exactly what he said. I believe that he was talking about me; I was almost sure that the tongue he used was that of Jailze, of the southern desert tongues. I recognized the word kin as boy.
The scout leaned over me, and grasped my body. From then on, I drifted briefly in and out of consciousness. I remember being carried on the horse, the up and down movement that shook the very core of myself as the horse moved, and of course I could remember the last sight I ever had of my home village… As the horse rode up the crest of the hill, my eyes briefly opened and with it came temporary consciousness. I saw it all, what remained of my village, my bodies, the sight so horrible that made the journeyman trader retch.
And this… this was the place that I was raised. It was so much… too much… the sickness and weakness within my body, within my stomach the pure icy pain that destroyed my eyes, this shattering of my mind… It was I could do but wish for death, its embrace.
III: The Traders
“Rem kin zo rei etch echi norra.”
Those were the first words that came to me as consciousness returned to me, although the language made as little sense as ever. My eyes fluttered, and I opened them, before a sharp and intense pain broke across my body, the epicenter of which was my right eye. Immediately, my hand rose to my eye, my mouth still screaming as I did so.
Tow hands pinned me down, pushing my abdomen and preventing me from squirming. Another pair of hands grasped my legs, and voices came forth, some of them in my own tongue, telling me to calm down. It didn’t really help much, since most of the voices were yelling at me.
Someone splashed water on my face, and then as some of it dripped upon the eye. A cool, stinging sensation washed over me, and my jerking grew still to a murmuring shiver. The pain was frozen, but not gone, not yet.
“Fwei kin ji!” Yelled one of the voices. The word kin... boy again? They were talking about me?
A hand smacked my cheek, and I yelped. Wincing, I slowly clamped down my right eye while opening my right, and I saw three men in front of me, Keissian traders of the desert with the accompanying skin tone. One of them said, “Do you understand me, north boy?”
North boy. That was how they always called us that lived north of the desert, the north men, the north girls, the north boys.
I opened my eyes and slowly stuttered, “Y... yes... I... I-I understand...” My lips cracked.
He seemed to nod. “Good. Periodically, we shall apply treatment to your wounds, and soon we’ll give some ointment for your eye as well.”
A weight I could not lift was felt by my open eye, and thus it closed. There was movement as the people that held me down retreated. I continued to gasp.
I felt a movement and then shadow upon my skin. The same voice said, “What happened to Jirru-Sei?”
I shivered.
“The village was recently destroyed, and its people killed. Farmland, the homes of the people, the people themselves, everything was burned by fire and ravaged by beast.” A hand curled around the shirt that I wore, and the man whispered into my ears, with a deathly and greedy voice, “What did happen?”
I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t, I just couldn’t. I was in a minor agony at the moment, and I still could not remember everything... maybe I didn’t want to remember.
It was horrible. “I... It...”
The hand that grasped my clothing tightened for a moment, and I knew at that moment that they would destroy me, take one of the plentiful knives and stab it into my body, my defenseless body. They were traders, which were different from mercenaries only in what service they presented... and I had to money, equivalent to having no power... they would kill me, and throw me down into the wreckage that used to be no home...
And then the hand loosened. The killing intent evaporated. I gasped for air, air that I needed so very much.
“Enough,” said the man, with just a hunt of satisfaction. I winced, and then opened my tear-filled eye. The man turned to the others, and pointed in a direction. “Kin zaza neying ek Jirru-Sei ek manda!” He made one or two gestures with his hand, and I briefly saw two dark figures, probably the others that held me down.
“What... you’d... say?” managed I.
The man gave me a stare, one cold and uncaring. “We are about to raid what is left of your village. Some of the scouts have reported that it seems the destruction hurt not the coin of your fellow townsmen.”
I gasped, the shock of the man’s words almost palpable, as if he was just beat on my chest. Wincing, my hands tightened, turning into a fist.
The man gave a harsh laugh. “I am sorry for what has happened to you, kin zo rei, but in the end, it would simply be a waste to leave your dead coin that they would be using not.”
“What... is... kin zo rei?” asked I, after a strain.
The man seemed thoughtful after a moment. “It may be... either “ruined boy,” or “abandoned boy...” Yes, it is one of those.” He looked down to me. “What is your name then, boy?”
I tried moving my body, and found it responsive, even if only somewhat. On the surface on which I lied, I turned away from him, showing the man my back. I refuse to respond.
The man smacked me on my shoulder. “I ask only out of politeness, and maybe respect that you have survived whatever it was that came.” Pause did he. “Either way, there is no need for me to know your name. I doubt we will be seeing one another after the next cycle of days or two.”
Cycle of days? What will be happening? After seven days, what will happen?
I winced, my head pounding and pounding, my eye burning and yet numbing, as if the sensation was fading away, and everything a dream.
IV: Naydi
Later I did find that I was in one of the carriages that the traders rode. For the most part, I stayed in there all day, feeling unnaturally weak, with any bump felt magnified and filtered in pain. My head was barely clear for any amount of time, and I found myself in delusion quite often.
Sometimes... I felt better within these hallucinations I felt. I would see myself younger, playing around with my best mate Marynth, as we ran around the village, seeing who was faster, or teasing the girls while they threw things at us. Later, as we grew older, we would tease the girls no longer, and the same washer girls that we teased would soon become beautiful and flirty, and lead us on our own games. Of course, I always knew that Marynth had his eye on my younger sister, but I’m quite sure he knew that unless I approved, he wouldn’t be going anywhere...
And then, the carriage would bump on some loose rock, or because the steed went out of control, and then I would be pulled back, away from a childhood, away from friends and family, and back into reality, where I would feel the aching agony and a perpetual headache, unable to discern who was who. When I have returned, I would regret no being in that hallucination.
It took an entire rising of the sun and setting of the sun in order for the Keissian traders to pillage my hometown, and the lucid moments felt horrible as I knew what they were doing. They would come back, holding entire bags of coins that the fellow townsmen had stashed away, and the pillagers would just laugh and laugh, flinging coin at each other in its abundance. Occasionally, they would bring back undamaged valuables, such as a necklace or a rare carving. Sometimes, I was allowed to look at some, if my mind was clear. Some I recognized, and others I did not.
The next day, as the edges of the sun’s embrace barely tinged the sky, I was awoken, and found us leaving.
“Still,” said a voice, one of female persuasion. I opened my eyes, to find out I could not, and winced as I clamped down my damaged eye from exposure.
Before me was a girl somewhat older than me by at least three winters. Her skin was lighter than that of the traders, but darker than mine, and her dark-brown hair was cut short. She wore clothes that were of inferior quality to the man that had spoken to me.
I closed my eyes, feeling a drop of sweat from the exertion of opening my eyes in the first place. “What do you mean, still?” asked I.
“I...I...” The girl seemed to struggle. “I... mean, you still.” I allowed myself a glanced, and found her frustrated. “Move... no, bad.”
I seemed to understand. I said slowly, “You want me to be still?” I let out of sigh, feeling weak.
She nodded. She had not learned my language recently, but I didn’t blame her: sexual equality was not as if it was a strong point among Keissian culture.
I sighed, and as the carriage rocked, I felt myself light-headed once more, feeling the consciousness of mine wavering.
A cool, wet towel was placed over my temple. “I... care for you,” the girl said. “I an Naydi.”
She said it wrong, but I know what she was talking about. She was a maid, my serving woman, assigned to take care of me.
Her name was Naydi.
Even when all of the people I knew were gone... I still heard the words “I care for you.” Even when the intentions were different... Those words, they felt so much better, almost liberating.
I close my eyes, and tried to sleep. When oblivion did come, I had regret and relief that it was simply that.
Jirru-Sei was not necessarily located the farthest north, as indicated by its green pastures and vegetation, but it was located farther away from conventional routes, being surrounded by mountains and forests. Because of that, it was often the last route for a trader, if at all. This being so, when the traders were finished with my village, our route was simple; they would follow the way down, to the nearing village as a brief rest, and then continue further south-southeast to a vital trading point between these northern lands and that of the Eru-Mar, the southern desert of the continent.
And I? What was to happen to me? I did not know. They didn’t leave me for dead, when they easily could. They didn’t need to waste resources such as feeding me, or rescuing me, save for retrieving information about the tragedy on what had befallen Jirru-Sei. They kept me alive, and while I harbored resentment at their pillage of my hometown, I was grateful for food and for Naydi’s company.
And speaking of Naydi... she was like a simple light within darkness. When she was around, I slept less fitfully, without longing dreams. She wiped away the sweat from my brow, she gave me food to eat and water to drink, an eye patch to cover the damaged eye. She tried to smile sometimes at me, and I was content for a smile to be here in this morbid space. She would try to say something in my tongue, and usually mess up, but sometimes there would be a comedic element in this, and I would laugh, augmented by the confused look on her face.
Maybe that was one of the ways that they saw use for me. The man that had spoken to me with my tongue arrived halfway through the first cycle of days, meaning about three of four days after we had left Jirru-Sei. He introduced himself as Amgen. He looked to Naydi.
“You have introduced yourself to her, have you not?”
From my cot, I managed, “Yes, I have.”
He looked to me, and gave a small smile. “She speaks your tongue quite horrible, does she not?” Naydi looked away, nervously chewing her bottom lip. I think, despite the laughter that followed his statement, Naydi knew enough to understand anyways.
I did not like it when the man smiled. He had a missing tooth, with which he had replaced with gold. The light of the golden tooth glared at me, sending a distrustful chill up my spine.
With something of a stone face, I murmured, “She just needs some practice; a teacher.”
“Aye, she does, but being on the road we are, there is something of a shortage of those.”
“You,” accused I, “speak competently.”
He nodded agreement, with something of saddened smile on his face. “I believe I do,” the man said, “but you see, knowledge of tongues is quite needed for my trade, and there are two young boys that are traveling with us, and I have to teach them first.” He gestured to Naydi. “Their need overweighs hers, and I will not be mocked for choosing to teach an older female over younger men.” He shrugged, almost comically, but there was a steely look in his eyes as he gazed at me.
“You want me,” said I, “to instruct her on as much as possible during the time here?”
“We have clothed you,” suddenly said the man, “we have fed you, and sated your thirst. We have saved you from the hands of death, kin zo rei, so something little as making conversation with the one that takes care of you is the least you could do, am I right?”
I sighed, and answered not.
“Good.” The man stood straight, and for the first time, despite the impairment in my vision, I could now see how tall and broad the man was, almost towering enough so that as he left, his short hair brushed the top of the carriage.
Pausing, Amgen turned around. “Do you have knowledge of your tongue’s writings?”
I turned away, feeling embarrassed. “I can read. I know not... of how to write.”
He nodded. “A shame.”
As he left, the large presence within the room was suddenly lifted, leaving something of awkwardness between Naydi and I. I tried to smile, although a shot of pain flash through my eyes, and I guess I winced instead.
“My name,” I decided to tell, “is Reyn.”
V: Life
The first trading point was one cycle of days after we had departed from my home. We had been traveling southward or south-easternward, following the usual trail. The steeds moved methodically, and thus Amgen told me we made good time; it was before winter, and the coming cold would not be chilling... yet.
Located at the edge of a great Tyn River was Ilysed. The Tyn River was one that was large, coming from the mountains up north. Two minor towns were located upper north, and thus there was easy passage for those people to traverse down here. Ilysed thus rose as a heavy importer and exporter using the river, as even further down stream another town was located, and near the delta end of the river was Ek Durf, the boundary point between the northern region and the Eru-Mar desert region.
A large man-made gate surrounded the edges of the town, enclosing the entire city. Sentries stalked atop this border, their arrows cocked at anyone that came. As the carriages of the Keissian traders neared, the gate loomed before us, apparently a daunting task for anyone to invade.
The carriage drivers had lit up torches as they came within sight of the city. Normally, the Keissians would set up came as the sun kissed the horizon’s edge and the tinged the sky with the warnings of night. Having wandered this path before, several times, being yearly traders, Amgen had knowledge of the land, and how far away we were. Deciding not set up camp, he and the rest thus pushed ahead, hoping to reach the village before dark. As they apparently wouldn’t make it, torches were passed around, to signal to the sentries of Ilysed that we were thieves not.
Amgen, with two scouts and mounts with him, trotted up the person who came out, probably the spokesperson. Noticeably, they both seemed familiar with one another.
A moment later, the meeting was adjoined. The other man gestured with a couple of shouts to open to gate, and as Amgen returned, the gate then welcomes us to come.
“You move yet?” Asked Naydi.
I paused. “Are you asking if I can move? If I have the ability to move?”
She nodded.
I stretched my legs, and tried flexing them. Although there was a weakness that lurked in the core of my marrow, they responded and coordinated my wishes with little lethargy. Flexing my hand, they responded. My arm was still weak, but I could get up.
The past few days, Naydi had been helping me get up, and at the very least, lean against the wall, sitting straight up. Tiredness settled into my body as I did so, particularly the first few tries, but as time passed, I began to feel better, and the strain was lessened, or at the very least I had learned to ignore it.
When he, the monster that had attacked my village, scarred me, it seemed as he had taken some of my lifeforce with him. With a single attack on my eye, I remember feeling as if the world exploded before me, the pain that blossomed through my body an indiscriminate agony. After wards, my body was sick and weak, and my consciousness barely kept itself lucid.
Honestly, I cannot say exactly what that attack was, but it was a monster, the man was beyond the rules of reality that bound humans. The man was a shade, I believe, a man possessed by a collection of dark spirits. Of course, I wouldn’t normally have believed in such a thing, demons and spirits and such, although there were plenty of the rich that paid demon hunters very well, especially in the Eru-Mar region. Now though... I now admit to the existence of forces beyond my understanding, having met one of those forces myself.
I shiver to remember.
I push away such thoughts, as I always did. I didn’t want to ponder on such things.
I took in a breath, trying my best to collect some vitality in my chest. Turning to Naydi, I asked, “Can you help me up?”
With Naydi’s help, I was able to push myself off the bed. Leaning heavy on her body, I found I was able to stand. I was able to stand, after an entire cycle of days mostly lying on the bed. The pressure applied to my feet felt made it feel like they were about to break, the strain, physical and mental, unbearable... But them, as I started to despair from ever using my legs again, move on my own volition, I remembered Naydi, the girl by my side, my hands on her and she supporting me. I groaned, and then took a step.
That was enough for me. Panting, I slammed myself against the wall, propping my body up. A small amount of beads of sweat littered my temple, daring to break and slide down my face. My arm shook.
But it was unbelievable. I did it. I did it, this simple and everyday task of moving my foot, up and down, and then taking a step forward. My chest was tight, lucidity questionable, and my arms shivered, but I did it.
I am one of the living, and it was this moment that I wished for a reunion with my family no longer. I lived, and with this step, I knew that many others were continuing, that I would live.
“Why cry?” questioned Naydi to I. Her fingers brushed the edge of my eyes. “Why are you cry?”
No, it wasn’t tears, it wasn’t tears, it was just sweat. Then a sliver of liquid fell from my eyes, and yes, I was crying, I was crying that I was alive.