《Multiverse of madness》


 Prologue

    Slow rhythmic drip of blood stains the hard cobble stone, as a pair of human knees buckle inward, before suddenly bending as they collapse under the pressure of his own body. Loose clang of metal, lifelessly drooping to the floor with long clangs against the grindstone floor; bringing an everlasting echo within the distilled wallowing walls. Once there was a shining slick steel blade, but now lays in ruins of former glory. Lacking a sharp pointed tip now blunted though usage, with chipped cracks of scars of lost horrors and endeavours. Leather torn and blooded as the faded illusion of the owner''s hand briefly lingers in sight before the blood grips and yearns for its forged simulated comfort.


    His drained face slowly shank pale skin dwindles and wanes, as his complexion flushes with a ghastly haunting white, deaths cold embrace patiently watching life drain from this body. His eyes mourn his own loss, as his iris expands to absorb the holy single beam of light which drifts over his body. Completely engrossed in his obsession to welcome his own death. His hair twines in a fleeting dance with the elastic wind which pushes his hair to wildly shake in uncontrollable vengeance to bring a semblance of life. Each strand of hair becomes disloyal to the body, which attempts to zone into an everlasting sleep.


    Scarlet blood looms longingly over the marble floor; black veins steep and stem though the woven white flecks. Walls overcast as shadows loom with horrifying intensity, as it steadily grows with an infectious fright.


    Silently, a darkened figure grows from the penumbra shade. Quietly steeping from the shadow with a pulsing metrical step, each lifeless stride gradually bring itself closer to the dammed. The lone strain of light briefly illuminates the beast.


    A short dark coat loosely flutters though the rugged breeze, as three straps stand erect on the black coat; waiting to clamp down over the waving leather. Short, ragged trousers tucked into their pointed boots, each one with a plain silver buckle resting over the ankle. Over the murky silhouette waist, a strain of tightly woven leather clings to a book. Fully attached and stuck to his side. While his left side carries a set of chiming keys, giggling in a chorus of their own pathetic symphony. Being held in the left hand of this figure, a heavy metal lantern with a flickering flame pulses with a natural dance of choreographed movement. HIs hands are covered in a tight grip of smooth waxed straps of parched leather, crafted to tightly strangle itself with a forceful determined legacy to remain waxed to this shadow. Covering his torso. two straps of wielded leather which sit expectedly underneath his blacken coat, as a noticeable bulge lingers slightly out of eyesight on the creature''s back.


    However, with each step that crawls by this figure moves towards the dying, the shadowy drapes from behind cling to the beast hood to try and remain hidden. Eclipsing and obscuring these figures is a faceless haze in a hushed veil of chaotic darkness. Slowly coming into view, its large beak sprouting from the beast veil. Sickening mask with spawns of darkness slowly creeping though.


    The last step echoed hurriedly within the empty room; the body''s last moments gazed fixatedly to the figure. A brave hand desperately trying to summon strength to crawl. Yet never truly succeeding.


    Haunting sounds erupt from the empty space. Almost taunting the fallen humanoid; with illogical madness of uncontrolled rambling of drunken insults and slander. Each impugnment utterance vocalized with a violent expressive nature, to belittle the dying body. Each grasp of his fallen breath painfully dulled, with an everlasting glare of eyes biting his fallen body, locking his body nerves in a panic-struck state.


    Behind the materialized shadow figure, the darkness looms and morphs into a foul cloak which infects the room. Climbing from behind the cloaked man to drown the room in a steady haze.


    The lone broken body which stuck to the floor became trapped in the endless wonder of night, his unmoving musk became ridged in the cage of the vast sea of darkness, as it encompassed his entire body.


    The last thing the shadowy figure made out before the person died, was the his right eye. Previously drained of life to a still faded blue, now shined a painful scarlet red. His iris dilated, fixating his sight to the figure before him. Before being taken into the everlasting sea of darkness. Completely disappearing.


    Time slowed to a dismal crawl. All matter of life ceased to the darkened world, embers of the roaring flames of the beam of light, swallowed to be silenced by the night''s heavy burden. Each sense could only suffer though a longing despair of nothing. No sound to ring the bells of life, no touch to feel across skin to flair such gifts of warmth, no remarkable sight any glimmers of stars within a normal belove night; bright sparkles of lost spirits which silently watched over their homes, they all lack any appearance within this endless night.


    Immediately, the cloaked shadow¡¯s hand raises. The bulky metal lantern lifted with little issue. Their hand latches onto a rusted handle. A tormented screech evaporates the once sustained rules of silence. The previous pulsing light of the calmed dance now erupts with a scream of liberty as it consumes the area around the figure. The flames gently trawling around the figure; dancing between his body, pulling away the darkness as the phoenix light covers them. Completely encompassing the figure, driving away the infectious night. The blinding wild light gentle grasp and completely overwhelming any sense this figure lost during the lost night.


    ¡°It''s almost welcoming to see you hear once more friend.¡± A calm voice announces.


    Instantly, the figure hand wraps the detached latch to grip against the bulky frame of the lantern; calling the raging fire to obediently whimper and resign itself to falter into a single tiny candle-lit flame.


    The room the figure eyes are greeted two is lit with divine strains of light from a window placed above the wooden beams; fine metal gates on the window parts the light to shimmer, making shadows dance within the open room. A larger circular raised centre which hides behind a low hanging chandelier, with three stainless bars each holding an empty candle in a triangular formation within the circle. The floor is carved from hardened stone (apart from a single formation on a pathway leading to the north most part of the room), with large support beams holding up the upper canopy, with ancient banners of worshipped wonders. Litters of tables and chairs are dotted around this room, some holding sets of fine wine glasses or bouts of mead; each one accepts a planned set of identical chairs -each one holding a diamond crusted jewel within the middle of their spine- of polished wood. Leaning against all sides of the room are lost broken stands of dried metal or patched leather, rusted together in some bashed armour and weaponry; mockingly guards the room with doubtful capability, with countless of these stands appear ready at attention. Leading from the middle circle underneath the glass, a large open fire pit, which currently resides an open inferno which claws away at the wood dripping into its internal stomach; stone walls act as its cage, limiting the spread to its confined area of domination. Heading from the circle, a wooden pathway heads to the northernmost part, which directs to a bar. Ancient wooden runes cover the bar front; humanoid creatures ranging from short miniature figures to grotesque muscles are jumbled together in a symphony of silent noises and stories.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Slouched over the bar, their arms loosely lay across the bar while maintaining each other. A man glaze lingers to watch the shadow appear before him.


    A piercing gaze from his hazel brown eyes pound and linger with a hushed relaxed blink; which stop his obsessive starring from continuing for eternity; yet draws the figure''s attention to himself anyway. This man''s face beholds a small scar just below his left eye, running from the spine of his nose to his tanned cheeks. Resting above his eyes are attuned brows which farrow his relaxed expression. No ceases or natural expression of curiosity; only an artless expression to match his slight smirk. His hair woven in a hanging wave of rich marron brown, which tightly covers his neck. Completed with a trimmed and neat goatee which cleanly carry depth to the man face. His tunic (a dark green fabric matched with small but still noticeable tears) has splashes of stainless metal across his upper chest, just below his neck; with decorative carvings which twine and bud across the metal. From his arms a fine purple silk airily hangs from his arms to cover his shoulder to his wrist.


    ¡°Well then friend. Do I dare ask how our mutual company faired? This time¡­¡± His voice fading to a whisper of guilt. His hazel brown eyes levelled to glaze to the feet of the shadow.


    No distinct movement was conveyed or hinted. Just a slight mock eco as the night strolled across the paved wooden path. Each step thundering under the shadows'' weight.


    The beast gently pulls back his tight leather overcoat to produce a hung file of poorly stitched leather of a makeshift pocket. Revealing a cube. This easy light blue box: faintly glowing with pale embers of life, as his black gloved hand grasp the object. Before being placed in front of the man standing before the shadow.


    Instinctually, the tanned hand of the man steadily pokes the top square of the cube. Slightly pressing a mere fraction of weight before the embers merged with threatening speed into a pulsing living aura. His hand gracefully dancing within its light. Before slowly withdrawing.


    However, as he does. A parchment (born from the embers itself) materialized though the collective gathering of aura. Weaving together to paint a new picture of material life. Birth from this unnatural paper steaming from the seed of nothing. Yet the eyes of the beholder do not glance to the magical art before him. He dutifully stares with fixed glaze to the crisp paper.


    ¡°Names? Do we need more?¡± His gaze does not rise to meet the being in front of him. The man''s voice betrays his words. No sign of a longing question could be heard over the sound of his resigned tone. No true thoughts of doubt lingered longer than a single moment after his eyes fell to the parchment.


    Turning away from the shadow, he quickly turns his body to face the back wall, forcing his body away from the bar counter as he hauls a small notebook from an overhanging shelf. Carefully, pulling open the book to a fresh page; before cleanly sliding the note into its cage. Pressing his fingers to frictionlessly press down the boards of the paper. Before closing the book entirely with a moment of delay.


    ¡°Stars have sealed the fate of more doom souls again I see.¡± His back turned away from the creature standing behind him. Evenly turning his head over his shoulder to talk.


    Yet no sound ever came back in response.


    Yet the silhouette does clamper and shrugs off the two straps around its torso: a loud thud as the bag on its back smacks against the wooden boards. The black cloth, which was held by a single threat, loops though a hole which kept the top closed broke off. The bag losing complete grip as it spills and gushes over the floor.


    Lost attachments and armour pieces (of all sizes and materials) scatter within the immediate surrounding. Loudly clanging and chiming with a ruckus of lifelike wonder. Before halting in a paralysed fear of reality as their chorus dies down.


    The man previously behind the bar. moves around with haste before carefully (yet with an almost greed filled desire) scopes and hoards it from the floor. Places it for a temporary rest over the counter. The main eyes addictively consume each particle and seized every bit of detail of every piece available. Each one with a set of incoherent muttering. His eyes set to an empty stand in the far opposite corner of the bar. Quickly pacing his way over. He rest the clothing onto it. Strapping a broken and cracked helmet to the head; a caved chest-plate of a rusted bronze to the chest. To leather gloves of sizes which dangerously would not cover a single finger of a regularly sized human. Yet each one mysteriously fits onto this body.


    The man''s eyes steadily move away to the umbra outline. Moving away from his obscure creation of a lifeless initiation of a poorly suited warrior. The man''s eyes now resting with a hindered raise of his mouth, which could not ever count as a true smile. His hazel eyes hid within the man''s face.


    ¡°I was never one to doubt odds. Truly, my life has taught me many things. But possibility was always the most exciting. Even the greatest strengths could falter to a lucky shot. The most intelligent minds could not imagine every scenario in which the human mind conjures to successfully escape anything. Yet I do believe the most important lesson probability has ever taught me, was knowing when something could truly be impossible.¡± His voice steadily completes.


    He continues


    ¡°True sometimes probability could give hope to anyone. The single chance to overcome any obstacle. My life has seen these odds happen, while quite rare, my love for this moment stands strong. I truly believed so strongly in the fact that the impossible can always be possible. And I know a part of me still does. Yet, everyone knows the rules. The house always wins. And we have never been the house for anyone to play a fair game.¡±


    The shadow makes no noise nor statement of intent. No self-deliberation to determine the correct path for his actions to take; no hint to even suggest taking notice to anything the stranger spoke. Merely maintaining their stance, before completely turning around to face the man in the centre. The beam of light now overcomes the darkness beneath his hood.


    The man''s eyes gently open, taking in the full view of the silhouette dressed in leather. From the covering which remained hidden beneath the confines of his hood exposes a bird like beak. A long smooth beak protruding from the outline. The contour shadow beings to be forced back by the joyless beams of light from the single window, which rest slightly above the man''s head, being slightly raised on the inclined circle.


    ¡°Yet it is also a good thing, that possibilities always do mean there is a correction to something unlikely and impossible. And isn¡¯t that why your here? To turn the impossible possible.¡± The man finally grinned a skirmish smile of sincerity.

 Chapter One - Awakening fate

    Chapter One - Awakening fate


    Blazing sun rose steadily over a bustling city. Giant skyscrapers which stretch and mingle with the high heavens above greet the skyline with a rigid vigour. The rays glimmer against the stainless windows with flashes of spiritless white, with hidden golden sparks of the dim embers of the morning dew twingle and bud on the windows. Down below the towering hulks of corporate shells, and the houses of the inner city. Life (much like the rising sun) starting to step into every milling and rituals. Small chirps of cars fancifully driving across the roads; loudly proclaiming their supremacy; with each passing moment they frantically greet others. Bellowing yelps of tamed dogs barking to greet the world from their slumber. The howling tunes spread arounds the blocks of their impromptu choir. People dress in all types of clothing, some already finding strength to face the day in uniform for work, with briefcases being lugged around within a firmly gripped palm. While tightly grouped together within the overcrowded streets and pathways.


    Yet, too a slumbering teen the world is nothing more than an everlasting promise to leave the comfort of his room. Loudly fighting against his fate to venture into the controlled wildness of city life; nagging him with beckoning cries of school and other commitments in which he must partake in.


    His eyes flutter. Their rapid movements fail to stop the annoying rays of the overbearing sun from tormenting his irises within the confines of morning. The stand (from leaving his window slightly ajar) of his curtains flap as the breeze gentle sways them open. As if they have become entranced by such an alluring song, and sway in hypnotic passion to allow such rays to be peak though.


    Slowly, the sheets which covered the body of the resting teenager were pushed off. Rising like a wave before falling into the sea of the bedroom floor. His sheets sprayed in a fit; slightly tugged away to cover the lower half of his bed only partially. The boy stiffly laid as he sleepily stared at the sealing above.


    Groggily, he forced himself to slide the lower half of his body to freely dangle in the suspended air; before compelling the rest to follow suit. Perfectly standing upright. Before walking to the neatly piled clothes stack beside his decks.


    He dozily slid across his modest room. Sluggishly stumbling past posters of celebrated pop ideals. Eyes of strangers watching him drag himself through the morning. High shelves of treasured forgotten pictures of days old with family all huddled together, framed within a metal case; faint prints linger to show the many times a longing hand was pulled and begged the memories to be lived once more. Resting upon his deck, a huge screen greedily hogged a large part of the teen''s decks, hanging and broadening their presents over the miniature notepads and pens scattered around. Stuffed away under his bed, a large over filled box of weights and exercise equipment, left slightly twisted in a heap; showing the frequent use and near constant movement they shuffled through.


    A mirror resting on the far side of his room, occasionally flashed with the sun rays reflecting against its skin. Slightly illuminating the room whenever the breeze blows hard enough to make a significant gap.


    Yet the boy¡¯s figure is clearly displayed. His dark midnight hair cut short around the back, with ruffles on the top of his head. Mostly unblemished skin with the occasional mark of red patches on his face. He stood around 5 foot 7 inches. Mostly slender but a quite impressive figure for a teenager showing his dedication and commitment to self-improvement.


    Automatically, he pulled and tugged at his pyjamas and tore them away from his body; before suddenly hurling them aside with a dim thump of their dwindling cries as they impacted against the wall, beside his unmade bed. He slowly raised his freshly ironed shirt over his head; tugging away as he quickly shrugged his head to the slide, to slowly drag the shirt down. Before lifting the hem to pull his arms through.


    Looking at himself in the mirror, his uniform of the pale white shirt half tucked into his black trousers, was covered by a fitted suit blazer covering from his shoulders, to drape over the top half of himself. His school shoes (another stygian black typical shoes for school) neatly tucked away inside his closest.


    After successfully overcoming the everyday challenge of his clothing. He tiredly swung open his door. Greeting the rest of his household to a fresh start, of a new day. His current position within his house was on the second floor. A modest twisting staircase connected to an overhanging indoor balcony; looked over the main entrance to his abode. Across from his door three separate doors are seen (one leading to his parent''s room, another his younger sister and the other a bathroom) while the main entrance is covered with a fine dual coloured black and white carpet; a slick new modern style blending the two tones together; A spiral patterned with two small dots in the centre of the sea of the opposite colour, resting a separate tone. As he travelled further into his home, he walked into his kitchen.


    The modern home greets him immediately to see his mother standing against the far corner, past the deserted island which sat in the centre, spreading from the southern part to the north in a perfect line. This island inhabited an almost empty fruit bowl which spared only a single pitiful orange and a spotted banana. To the west a large oven which greeting him with a loud humming, a heavenly aura filling the room as he entered. His body finding itself trapped within the amour steam which bed itself within the kitchen. Pulling himself closer, his brain ragging his idle soul over the stainless floors.


    ¡°Oh, I see someone finally awoke!¡± A cheerful voice greeted in a mocking tone. His mother (who had yet to turn to greet the boy) continued to cut gracefully.


    His mother was a modest woman, slightly plump around the waste (mostly from the lack of activity from the rainy season having a prolonged stay) but carrying her remaining years with vigour. Her long black hair which beautifully rests over her shoulders. Eyes as light as the shining skies which hang overhead with a fixed loving gaze. Crystalised blue gems which dearly hold her iris within both her eyes. Flawless skin completely covering her skin and with fixed rosy cheeks. She wore a bright pastel pink jumper which hung over her comfortable tracksuit.


    He sheepishly rubs the back of his head embarrassed. His checks fulling a pale red with a soft laugh escaping his lips.


    ¡°Sorry, I guess it overslept again huh¡± He laughed out, apologising to his mother.


    Hearing his words, she carefully places the knife down to lay across the cutting board. Before completely turning to fully face her child. A teasing smile splashing across her face.


    ¡°I swear if I wasn¡¯t here, I would always wonder how on earth either you or your father would survive!¡± She zestfully taunts. Before making her way to hug her son.


    ¡°Oh? Did dad not wake up today? Must run in the family then.¡± He quips back. He jokes, fully embracing his mother.


    Pulling back, she makes her way to the island, picking out the orange which desperately hid behind the stale banana. Wishing against the odds to survive before being whisk away.


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe it! He slept right through his alarm. It got me up earlier than normal. But that lug did not even stir. Isn¡¯t that right honey!¡± She directs to the adjacent room, where an older man is seen sitting over a family size wooden table.


    HIs father laughed from embarrassment. His body huffing and wheezing with a sudden jolt sparking through him, only calming down as he lifts a mug to his lips, taking in his morning tea.


    His father was not large or imposing, but neither small nor dainty; but simply average height with jet black hair with a freshly cut trim; which allowed the world to breathe down the back of his neck. Unlike his wife''s gem-like eyes his fathers had a kind hazel. Soft brown like autumn season in which trees started to shed their leaves. His eyes held their same pretty brown. He wore a plain white shirt underneath a smooth black blazer, a hand-woven tie slightly off centre around his neck. Matching trousers to complete the look of a professional businessman.


    ¡°Hey now that''s unfair! Saito back me up here, it''s not our fault!¡± He complained. Yet the tone easily ciphered his laxed and loving teasing tone.


    The mother (now fully turning back to Saito) loudly tuts.


    ¡°Well mister you''re already running late for school, Akari has already left as she was picked up early by her friends. Something about morning duties? So please hurry up and get something in your belly and leave already!¡± The mother said, already handing over the cut fruit to Saito.


    However, before Saito could take part in eating, the smile on his mother face soon vanishes. An unformed frown now lies imperfectly on her face.


    ¡°What is it mum?¡± Saito asks.


    Taking a deep breath before she speaks, she turns to directly speak.


    ¡°I know your sister is with her friends, hell they even came to pick her up themselves, I just feel more comfortable if you were with her. I don¡¯t like her being alone.¡± His mother confessed.


    Seeing his wife now sombre, the farther moves to stand beside her, bringing her close with a comforting side hug and a light peek on her cheek.


    ¡°Honey its fine, they will look after her. There are her friends its fine. Besides Saito will be there. He¡¯s always nearby. He will protect her.¡± The farther spoke.


    ¡°Yea! I promise mum, I will always keep her safe, so do not worry! I''ll leave quickly for school just let me eat first.¡± Saito loudly exclaimed.


    With the devils need to eat quickly, Saito shoved and heaved the fruit down into the deepest pits within his stomach before lugging his school bag over his shoulder. Yelling to his parents to have a good day and to see them soon.


    The moment Saito opened the door, the world greets his eyes with beauty of life making itself known. The summer warmth has brightened up the wildlife to shimmer with leaves brimming brightly. Houses each allow for windows or doors to hang ajar to not swell within the desolate heat. Row after row for as all as his eyes could imagine the world was peaceful.


    ¡°SQUAK!¡±


    Breaking the illusion and rudely imposing to break the tranquillity. A single crow perches themselves on his roof. Bringing itself to the edge, directly looking out over his front garden; transfixed to the scene below them.


    This crow (after announcing himself to the world) silently stared and lingered. Tauntingly staring right back at Saito, who has yet to move his gaze, this make-do stare down between animal and human.


    ¡°Squawk to you too I guess?¡± Saito mumbles, turning his body away. Before calmly leaving the situation. Opening the gate which leads to the main street.


    Now freely walking in the outside world. His hands resting inside of his pockets, only being brought out to greet neighbours in a routine greeting. Saito leading his head into the following breeze, each strand of hair peaceful blazing a makeshift dance. Trees flutter as the wind twine with the stock green leaves. Bushes mingle and wave their subby buds for mother nature to greet strangers in perfect harmony. Yet strangely enough oddities sprung themselves. Every odd ally cat (which normally would beg and whine for food from passers-by) would leap and spike their back in defence; a makeshift threatening hiss of a formal primal roar whenever Saito would walk past. Dogs would suddenly grow silent as a mute, any transgression from an invasive squirrel which dared to enter their domain; yet when Saito past a dog which was notoriously known for being quite aggressive (especially when kids did not understand boundaries) was found in a state of fear while the dog attempted to act protective, guarding his sworn enemy of a lone city squirrel.


    Yet Saito never noticed the crow following behind him¡­


    Saito (following the same route he would take daily) would never consider himself to be the smartest or the most observant person. Normally, he would lose himself with wild thoughts and imagined moments, sparked inside of his mind. But today he does notice a trail of sudden sparks of abnormalities throughout his walk. He completely turns to stare when he spotted (out of the far corner of his eye) rats communing together in broad daylight. Their gaze followed the boy; sniffing into the air like they detected some hidden foul scent which sent the animals into some frenzy.


    Yet the murder of crows which silently grew as he strolled into school, their numbers growing with every passing moment; one turned to two which quickly became three. Quickly encircling the streets, holding them hostage from above with a countless amount of their flock lingering in the open air. Some hanging overhead, taunting him with their hunter instincts of detecting death, as if readying themselves to pluck the remains. Circling the dying victim so they can be ready to dive when they finally lose their strength. While others simply spread themselves across the rooftops of houses, which lay across the street to Saito¡¯s school. Poking and scratching their talons against the tiles of the building. Cryptic taps of frantic claws eco in a song of madness on this wonderful summer''s day.


    Yet, with the world acting out of order today. Saito still managed to barely scrape by to wander into school on time. Arriving a bountiful five minutes before students are expected to arrive. Standing outside the main grate, periodically lifting his gaze from his phone as familiar voices call in greeting, politely returning his own dutifully.


    It seemed like everyone around never mentioned the countless over hanging birds, much less discussed the weird events of the day. Only discussions of major teenage events like: the latest news gossip and rumour picked up by the local loud mouth, or drama being covered online like some sort of fanatic fan for some celebrity. Each saying their own unwarranted opinion.


    No one noticed anything truly remarkable.


    When he finally decided to muster the courage to make himself known to the building, Saito turned his head for the final time from his screen to probably see where he is walking too. From the outer corner of his vision, which had previously pinpointed the days madness inspected a growing blackness hidden within the murder of crows.


    Saito halts.


    ¡®What?¡¯ he thinks to himself. His mind was almost broken in disbelief by the collection of swirling vortexes before him. Taken back, he steps closer to the school building; now frantically staring into the hive.


    Yet nothing appeared, they vanished. Discontent with their sudden performance being spotted. Quickly dissipating as the crows (which was part of the vortex flying to roof tops) stop their strange antics.


    Saito can only stare in a confused wonder; his pupils and fellow students seem completely ignorant and oblivious to the abnormal murder of the flock of crows. None pay any thought to their presence. Saito would dare say, they almost did not exist to them.


    Like they just could not see them.


    Saito fully turns away after that; shaking his head to fully bring himself into the reality of the moment. No longer staring in the direction of the forgotten madness. Fully dedicated itself to approach the more serious topic.


    School.


    How he almost wished those crows continued to distract him.


    Saito, dragging his feet to face the approaching building, sucks up the courage to peel himself away from the mirage of the crows; his self-imposing phantom apparition of the flock taunting him. Trying to pay no mind to his delusions. If no one else could see them. Then how can they be real?


    The building itself was three stories tall, a colossal structure which loomed over the lowered houses which boarded around the school. The entrance, heavily inspired by ancient architecture, recreates the old marble towers with stone replicas. Bulging from the building with two twin towers on the side, with faded white stone posts going between them. With paved stairs which rest with two symmetrical flowerpots on either side. The building itself was entirely made from rusted red stained bricks; with white paved slabs hanging around the ledges. Evenly spaced-out windows which run horizontal in fixed rows; being precisely measured for evenly spaced classrooms. This building reeked of normalcy. Complicated building structure to catch a wondering eye, yet hollow within with shallow intent. This building was normal.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    A strange foreboding sense of a nothingness normal though today. Those crows seemed to think so at least.


    The ancient entrance which protruded from the framework could entice eyes to be lulled into this compliancy; yet the whole building stunk of a fixed life. Each student dully wandered hallways in a collective haze of meaningless data from days of old. Lessons dragging ancient facts to new minds; meant to aid everyone for their future. Yet stiffens creativity for every individual.


    Yet the single crow, resting above, became the only jarring sight to Saito. Almost offended this crow dare take away anything from his normal routine. More start to follow, moving from the houses to take refuge on the school roof.


    ¡°Hey Saito¡± A voice from the endless ocean of students forcing Saito¡¯s attention to flee from the crow. Now peering into the crowd for the mysterious voice.


    The voice itself was quite feminine. A smoothing voice which carried itself across the endless conversations of students, which imbedded themselves in the wild seas of the corridors. Yet this voice became a siren itself to Saito.


    ¡°Hey Akari¡± Saito greets his younger sister.


    Standing before him is his little sister, taking after their mother; she is quite short with long smooth black hair tied into a high ponytail. Eyes sparkle with a light blazing blue. Dressed in complete uniform, while holding her hands between her back as she approaches with two other female students hanging off her arms.


    ¡°Finally, you''re here! I am half surprised you managed to get here on your own. Even more so that you¡¯ve managed to get here in uniform and not your pj¡¯s.¡± Akari jest. But the smile on her face clearly betrays her words; their hollow meaning becomes lifeless as her smile true greets her older brother.


    ¡°Ya mum already gave me all the jokes this morning, so a normal greeting is simply fine with me. You don¡¯t need to show off to your friends¡± Saito points out.


    Two joint fits of giggling erupt from the two bodies. Both needing to lift an arm to cover their mouth to attempt to stave off the temptation to laugh.


    ¡°Don¡¯t need to show off! They already know I''m amazing!¡± She boasts, proudly standing with a puff chest and a matching beatific expression mixed with a sly cheeky gin.


    ¡°Oh, yea so amazing¡± One of the bodies sarcastically mocks with a deadpan face; slight bubbling under her flat smile risking exposing her true intentions from her word.


    ¡°Oi¡± Akari yells. Lightly pushing her elbow into the girl''s side. Bursting the dam which held back her fated breath. Realising her laughter to the world in a wheezed breath.


    Yet the moment Akari began to talk again, her body was forcefully pushed. As he arms were linked to her two friends an awkward shuffle of feet occurred: pushing each one of them forward unexpectedly.


    ¡°Watch it!¡± The girl on the left quickly calls out, breaking off from the chain and immediately approaching the boy''s bubble. Attempting to seize them up by entering proximity. Yet, a sickening taunt of laughter is the only eligible response she got.


    Akari for her part did not respond verbally; her head also dropped to the floor. Gravity intensified its hold over her body. Longing itself to enlarge around her. Sapping her resolve and strength to face the situation.


    ¡°You okay Akari?¡± The other friend asks, while rubbing her arm. This calming gesture does not seem to break through to Akari. Her universe becomes ignorant to the girl beside her. Isolating herself in the murky world of nothingness.


    Yet, this darkness evaporated as fast as it came; the quick spread which haunted her mind the moment her body flung forward, began reeling and filtered into warmth. Darkness became light. As Saito placed his hand on her head; this comforting gesture finally bring her subconsciousness to be coaxed into relaxing. The stress in her shoulders loosen as she leans into the touch.


    Yet Saito glares in the direction of the hooligans. Not daring to break eye contact for a single moment; a personal grudge birthed from the briefest moment of sadness engulfed a protective desire. Saito knows his sister. Knows everything about her, they have always been close. They always went to the same school: practised similar hobbies, always made sure to be each other''s friend when the other was lonely. To make sure that even when the entire world was against them, they would always be by the other side.


    That is why Saito knew this very moment; and every moment which would follow for countless days until he could confidently say his sister was better.


    That he knew, she needed him. She needed him to protect her, to help her make her way through these episodes. He needed to always be ready by her side. As family he was always ready to make sure Akari came first in her time of need.


    It what a big brother would do.


    Saito moved past Akari quickly, his hand -which was previously resting on Akari''s head- lagged, as it flopped to Saito''s side. He confidently fixated his steps to directly confront the vile filth which held a twisted smirk, as he had yet to see this sudden change.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Saito immediately (before the guy could even suspect his or anyone''s involvement) pushed the teen into the corridor wall. Asserting himself between him and his sister friend. Slightly raising the younger teen off the ground, his toes barely scraping the floor in a desperate attempt to latch onto the ground.


    ¡°Don¡¯t hurt my sister¡± A simple command slipped from Saito''s lips. His dominant bullish tone asserted his demand confidently. His hand scraped up the hem of the teens uniform, as he twisted it just below the guy''s neck; allowing him to use the hold to force the boy closer.


    Their eyes meet. One a blaze, wild inferno of protective rage, the untamed feral instincts of family bond mounting into a savage rage ignited by his sister''s sullen mood. The other, a startled astonish glaze which darted between shock and confusion.


    ¡°Hey man, what''s going on?¡± The teen questions. As he mumbles and fumbles over his words. Losing them in quick though his stammers, as the shock left his stupefied mind scrambles to say the appropriate response.


    ¡°Saito wait I''m fine he didn¡¯t mean too¡± Regaining her composer. Akari pulls against Saito arms.


    Saito (who still held the younger teen by the shirt) slightly turned his head to acknowledge her. The scowl on his face never fading.


    ¡°He hasn¡¯t apologised yet¡­¡± Saito flatly states. Eyeing the teen furiously in his eyes. The boy sensing the meaning behind the statement rapidly and repeatedly tries to lower his head. Briskly repeating sorry in a damned loop until Saito lowered him to the ground.


    The moment the boy''s feet touched the floor; he immediately broke into a spirit. As if the devil was behind him.


    ¡°You''re not hurt, are you?¡± Saito asks. Now fully turned to face his younger sister.


    ¡°Of course, not silly. Didn''t I already say I''m amazing.¡± Yet small fickle tears fell from her eyes. A glistening trail stalked from the caverns of their home within her tear sacks. Her breathing intensified with small rapid breaths rapidly escaping her lips.


    The small damp tears soon sprung into a stream of sadness. A fountain of torturous emotions erupting from her, as her legs buckle. Losing the strength to stand. Saito speedily reacts to catch his falling sister.


    Saito could not help but stare at his sister. His eyes filled with a slight glaze of water which covered his iris; light shining with hidden bleak rays to highlight his dissatisfaction to the scene in front of him.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to look at me like that. I''m fine!¡± Akari states. A small plastic smile plasters itself across her face. Her eyes closed off as if shutting the world out; refusing the view of her friends or brother. The two girls now re-join by her side. A growing look of concern as they lovingly rub her arms, whispering lulls into her ears.


    ¡°It''s okay he didn¡¯t mean it¡±


    ¡°You not hurt¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry¡±


    ¡°Your safe we are here¡±


    Sweet nothings which meant a lifetime of everything''s. Yet as Akari eyes flutter open. Rivers of dejection and misery spill. Rapidly dragging themself from the quiver of her eyes of where her tears were stored. Now fall and plummet to the ground.


    ¡°I''m pathetic. He did not do anything¡­ Why¡­ Why am I so pathetic¡± She whimpers quietly, the mute confession barely escaping her lips.


    Which was only met by Saito tightening his embrace around her. No words could ever be said to wave the paranoia from her heart. No mere words could erase the fear within her soul. Every fibre in Saito screamed to be a good brother; yet he could only say he did not know how. He only knows he just must be here to help.


    Tears slowly died after an eternity and a moment in which time itself was seemly halted. No unwarranted eyes of familiar strangers looming over their shoulders, to peer into the misery being laid bare. Even the scuttling of feet and their rhythmic tapping of scurrying students dwindle into loose memories of sound.


    It seemed like the world itself is giving them privacy.


    Saito slowly moves back to look at his sister, peering down directly to her face; analysing every fine detail to see if the tears have stopped. Wondering if she could handle being alone. The two friends (which silently watched the siblings act) begin to wonder close and gently pull Akari off. Replacing the warmth and safety Saito provided with their own unique talents.


    ¡°Akari classes are starting soon. We need to get you cleaned up okay. Saito will be here during lunch.¡± One of the friends stated. Starting to gently pull her away from Saito.


    Akari did not resist; allowing her body to become piloted by her friends as she drifted away. Slowly drifting ever further into wild space; the longing embrace of a wandering emptiness of the hallways which enclose around them. Separating them as she continues to walk away.


    Saito could only stare¡­


    He wanted to say so much more, he wanted so much more from this. He wanted to see her smile. A deep parasitic thought plagues his mind of her tear-stained face. Her once cosy mellow blue eyes puff with a sultry red. A pulsing sadness heated from a desperate sudden despair.


    He never liked leaving her like this, but class was starting soon. Saito turned away, finally turning away from the unoccupied hallway to travel through an ajar door to his classroom. The smooth wooden door quite rocking melodically from a breeze from an unlatched window inside. Calling Saito to enter, taunting him with the promise of the same repetitive tasks; the same scraping noise, for the same fate.


    Yet a small, twisted gargle from a crow resting by the open window; made Saito quickly turn. Staring at the bird, right into its soulless eyes.


    Before a sudden twist and bud of hate sprouted with the depths of his uncontrollable soul. The whiplash physically causes Saito to buckle his right leg in sudden shock; his body loosely whips itself back, as a foreign thought embeds itself into his mind.


    Dark thoughts litter his mind suddenly. An overwhelming guilt, wave after wave of tides of emotional taunts, from a twisted voice pound away at his mind. A voice which did not sound like his own.


    A taunt which fell to open blazon ears, numbing his soul to shudder at the hellish hymns which flutter innocently. More horrid dreadful ghastly words spark at the scene.


    ¡°Why did she cry? Nothing happened?¡±


    ¡°How pathetic?¡±


    ¡°How weak¡±


    ¡°How exhausting¡±


    ¡°How useless¡±


    ¡°How you must wish to be free¡±


    Each sentence cut deeper and scar over Saito mind. Drowning himself in tainted Muk of evil. Words and phrases his heart has never felt become claimed by an abusive mind, spelling his darkest secrets for the world to hear and judge him by. The pounding mockery of a voice so openly reading his filth and unworthy thoughts.


    Yet as Saito began to follow his perfected destiny, a sudden shade from an opposing window suddenly darkened the hall.


    Quickly turning around to see the sudden intruder to the light. Encasing a noir fading darkness to encroach the still Saito. The crow chirps growing intense, targeting the poor boy. The soulless eyes which implanted the nightmare of traitors'' evil thoughts laughing at his torment.


    Before Saito fell into the door. Falling into the classroom door behind him.


    Sait¨­s body rags as the door loudly swings open, the thundering vomit spews Saito from his nightmare, as his body plummets to the classroom floor.


    In a daze, Saito''s mind struggles to regain complete control over his vision, due to the pain from where his head personally met the floor. The burning pain which thumps and ligers in a wild rage on the back of Saito head.


    But this does draw his attention to drift from the nightmare back to a still reality.


    Saito begins to slow his breaths. Taking time to allow for each one to slow his heartbeat; forcefully closing his eyes, boarding them shut and tightly compacting his body to shut his doubtful sense. Only focus on his breathing.


    In through the nose, out though the mouth.


    His eyes are the first to flutter open.


    Saito mind does not immediately transmit the image of the world to the body. The hungry darkness which previously suffocated all-natural light has disappeared. Seemly resign to swell within the shadows which borders the light. The elegant dance of artificial light from the hanging ceiling lights returning to its former glory. Their beams patrolling the corridors once more. The lovers which hide in a vale of darkness once again appears, with the same monotone rigid lines and order.


    Yet Saito did not seem to register any of that.


    Not when the crow which started everything off want still lingering outside the window. Still glaring as if it was transfixed to his very soul.


    ¡°Mr Saito¡± A booming voice yells.


    The shock sparks life into Saito''s body. Quickly throwing himself from the ground to face the sudden voice of his homeroom teacher.


    ¡°Sorry Mr Shimada, I don¡¯t know¡­ I just fell though, I got distracted, I guess.¡± Saito replies. Attempting to force a chuckle from the depths of his shaken heart. Broken dangle of words loosely held together to explain his entrance. Yet the pain from his head instead forced his subconscious to act first. Sending an arm to rub to attempt to sooth the pain. All to soothe an attempt to properly tell his falsified truth.


    Eyeing the man himself (who had to slightly raise his head as his teacher did slightly tower over his height by a couple of inches) with his clean bald face flushed with a bewildered expression which plastered his confusion (and slight lingering doubts of concern for his student.) His professional outward display of a traditional educator; pristine uniform suit and colour coordinated tie. Mashed quite poorly with the ridiculous brow of confusion.


    ¡°If you''re okay and well enough to safely manage to get to your desk by yourself we can start our discussions. Or do you want to head to the nurse''s office if you''re in that much pain?¡± Mr. Shimada asked. Eying Saito who continued to subconsciously rub the back of his head.


    Ignorant laughter followed Saito to his desk. Eyes of blissful students stared with transfixed amusement to the imagined fool. Yet their eyes band together in illiterate hast; each set of eyes stalks their prey. Their claimed trophy of amusing entertainment for them to laugh at.


    None of them saw anything. No subconscious instincts to raise hairs or small shocks of silent volts to detect danger. Saito could immediately tell that his entire class was clueless. Their mindless muttering about his own behaviour being ¡°weird¡± or ¡°on edge¡± swells in the mindless abundance of poor hearted fools. Every one of them lacked any sort of awareness of the abnormal happening of today.


    To them everything was normal.


    How the birds flock and hover around the school was perfectly fine. Or how the rodent''s behaviour intensifying the strange and weird feeling around him. Everything was normal to them.


    Like it truly did not exist.


    Yet too Saito, he truly felt like everyone else did experience normalcy.


    It was just the world which was not normal today. And he believed he was the only one who could see it...


    Edging closer to his desk, the orderly rows leaving parity cleared runways for him to travel though. Lone students bag lazily spills and thrown from the obscure hide away under a desk; to now find themselves placed in unwanted places on the already slime walkway; forcing Saito to awkward alleviate his legs abnormally high to pass through safely.


    Lugging his own bag to safely subjugate it to the fate of most school luggage, while making sure it would not become a brother to anyone else. Saito hastily pulls his plain dull lifeless notebook from his bag, which is a bright red case containing his equipment. Before lightly slamming them to the desk.


    Small quips of murmurs flock across the classroom; chatter flutters aimlessly from student to student. Questions periodically asked by the teacher enlisted demands from students. Yet to Saito it felt too far away. Like the world itself sprung sounds under the depth of an ocean. Being fatly drowned in a sea of pressure, slowly failing to combat the tides as they are pulled under; murmurs stink in despair as voices lay in a crackled watery grave.


    ¡°Craw!¡± Yet a clear squawk of the ever-present crow hunts with clarity.


    Spinning in his chair Saito whips in a daze fright to horrifyingly stare at the horrid crow, which taunting grinds its claws on the window. Teasingly poking his beck against the glass with a sickening repetitive tap. Almost gloating to the class to surrender its attention to them.


    But in the sea only Saito was afloat enough to make out these taps.


    ¡°Mr Saito!¡± The booming voice of the teacher.


    ¡°Mr Saito you need to pay attention, I''m not sure what is interesting outside of my classroom, but I do know is that you need to pay attention!¡± Mr Shimada orders. The sound of stifled laughter, distorts in muted screeching''s of lost voices; group together in a disunified flock.


    ¡°No sir, I was just thinking about something¡± Saito quickly fumbles.


    ¡°Oh, if these thoughts are so distracting then they must be relating to our discussion topic for homeroom today. Saito could you tell everyone in class what a soul is?¡± Mr Shimada questions.


    ¡°Souls in general? Or¡± Saito asked to clarify. Yet no reply is ever heard.


    Hearing no vocal response Saito ponders his answer. Lowering his head to avoid any direct eye contact, the insufferable expectations drew unwanted attention to a mind already occupied on the haunting nightmare of the stalking crow.


    As Saito wonders, the shadows once more spring to life. Covering the room is a vile of swollen black blanket; it piles and rides the ground below eyesight. Staying out of view.


    ¡°A soul is the belief that everything which represents who you are emotionally¡± Saito states. His eyes still locked to his side. Avoiding an uncomfortable sickening feeling forming around him. Shuddering in fear as he tries to close the feelings away.


    Mr Shimada flatly glares towards Saito. The fixed pause of meditated interest as his mind ponders and analyses every bit of detail shown from the boy.


    Yet below the darkness becomes emboldened. The lack of recognition has the darkness irritated as it grows. Slowly swallowing frozen students into its body.


    ¡°In a matter of opinion, you are correct. But tell me Saito. Is it your soul which makes you who you are?¡± A voice asks.


    Saito''s voice dried. Shocked into a booming silence of speechless assault against his very mind. Saito returns the figure gaze. Eye to eye the world around the two engulfed into a haunting darkness. Leaving the shell of two individuals to face each other.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand, '''' Saito mutely replies. His fear is slightly overcome to mutter a single sentence. Facing down the once host of his teacher.


    Before anything could answer, a symphony of disjointed voices clung together in a viewless picture. The darkness which previously ate away every student now cries out with the wrong sounds of tormented cries. His desk slowly melting into a pile of shadows and mist to disappear. Empty voices from lost bodies contort in a calling of illiterate words.


    This sickness growing from the silent night; mist drupes of twines, leaking poisonous fuse of gas like substance into the lost room. The darkness corrupting everything in sight. The barren reach only serving a hopeless space for this darkness to consume.


    Until bright light flashes erupt from the darkness. Sparks of flames burn brightly in the pitch-black hazes. Fleurissaint projects flare against the darkness. Each one unique in appearance: from clothing, expressions, builds to race itself.


    Saito confusingly stares at the wondrous illusions. Creatures he is never seen before but each one sparks an innocent flame in the ocean of darkness. A salvation to the prolong night. Holding back the tide from completely engulfing the area around Saito; to become a meaningless waste of nothing roaming within the tides of the night. The centre shakes with signs of life. Glowing embers of these portraits voiceless act of defiance. Bound by the loud light to siren its calling to spread across the room.


    The spark of hope against an unstoppable darkness.


    Yet, soon every proud image, every burning flame of light soon infused and mingled with the darkness. Their light corrupted in solitude. Images fall under a hopeless nightmare. Saito only watches helplessly as bodies seem to suffocate and dwindle in strength. Muted pain printed on the illusions of them silently seem to beg and plead against the night; their demise follow each other. Every image standing proud soon turns to ash. Like the stars above dictated every outcome, fate itself forced this hegemony for nothing more than little amusement in a gutting death of hope. Agony, decay, loss filled the growing space; an overwhelming obsession with death clamped into the ember of ash where the images stood. Voices which range from the understandable to breathtakingly confusing break and transient sound itself for a chaotic symphony of pain.


    ¡°Worthless¡±


    ¡°Weakness¡±


    ¡°Failure¡±


    Repeated on a hell bound loop. Each word corresponds with another disappearance of hope in the shell of a thousand lifeless tills. Slowly giving background to the embers of twilight.


    Yet some images crowded together remained strong; each isolated pocket of individual spirits were quickly snuffed and engulfed in the tyrannical oppression of the night. Yet some which bonded together fought on. Hope flaming their desire and united them, binding them together to seemly continue this fight forever. Some fall, some disappear. Yet many are still seen fighting for now against the growing tide.


    But one image, one single image transcended the events in front of him. Blinded by destiny this illusion ignores the siege in front of him; marching in a silent wake to define everything. Appearing before Saito.


    Even as the pockets snuff out around them, even as the light dimmers completely this one image stood with vigour. Saito could not help but become enamoured by this illusion before him. Allowing it to edge closer to him; with each passing step sheds a tear of darkness from Saito surroundings. Until the heavenly light of wondrous hope complete envelopes him whole. Blinding white inferno erupts in a drunken fit on catholic madness; completely taking Saito by surprise.


    The choice that followed was a different story¡­


    ¡°Stronger, we must be stronger.¡± An angelic voice murmurs.


    The light pulls back; much like curtains rising for a play; teasingly swaying for the grand opening of the performance. This heavenly light shimmers with its dying breath. Giving the night a perfect viewing from its place in the stands of the background. Before allowing its gradual interruption.


    Standing directly in front of Saito, the lifeless portrait beams with a sudden holy life. The previous native blue which imprinted every bit of hollow life before is over casted by a royal thick golden glow. Regal rays of sunlight beams all steaming from the light around this being.


    A human, one quite plain face with little defining natural features but carries numerous small scars dotted around his face. His muscular appearance is not so well hidden by traditional cloth attire which slightly shows his chest. Hugging the cloth, two large scabbards bound to the body; each one holding a handle in its shaft. Long hazel hair neatly tied into a wound bun.


    ¡°Fates are an unusual thing friend, please don¡¯t be alarmed. I haven¡¯t enough time¡± the voice informs dramatically.


    Saito, completely bewildered, nods his head. His voice became faint and tied in knots within himself.


    ¡°Be strong friend, be quicker than those who try to run from you, be wiser than that of your foes. Your life, your love, your hope is yours to burn and use for strength¡± The voice states.


    ¡°What''s going to happen? One minute I was¡­¡± Saito mutely begs.


    ¡°Nightmares of heavenly dreams of a crushing reality. Discovering ancient losses and knowledge long despised. An adventure for thee who never asked for one. A dangerous paradise for the hopeful. Allow it to become your everything to survive.


    Saito speechless mind slowly gather its Barings; pushing information together to digest the riddles of which the illusion spoke.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want this. I need to go home¡­ I need to be at school. My sister!¡± Saito breathlessly pleads.


    The illusion reaches his bare left hand out towards Saito. A small golden flame springs to life from his palm. Steadily, the image pulls both of his hands to cover Saito¡¯s; grasping in a comfort tight embrace. Allowing their hands to be set aflame together.


    ¡°Dear friend¡± The voice started.


    ¡°No one wanted this, but it''s our soul''s destiny¡±


    Sudden burning screams and echoes erupt. Vile shots of screeching children and frightened adults; terror from imagined beast. Horror from nightmares exploded once the flames roared. Yet Saito could clearly determine one faint sombre call. One dwindles line in an ocean of misery.


    ¡°Don¡¯t go brother¡­¡±

 Chapter 2 – Fates choice

    Saito eyes peel open. He feels his body directly compiles and obeys the foreign entity orders; yet this vision doesn¡¯t shift from an endless banquet of darkness. The once golden rays which defiantly refused to die, are now forgotten phantoms in the blanket of night.


    Isolations breeds despair. Saito mind boils in turmoil as the chilling cover has enveloped him.


    He closes his eyes, wishing to face the artificial darkness of his own creation; then suffer will the awaiting hell of emptiness.


    Yet a voice roughly invades his mind.


    No sound was felt from this voice, but Saito spirit felt a tsunami tidal wave wash over himself. A destructive force with an unquenchable hunger. Something Saito doesn¡¯t understand.


    The incoherent muttering refined itself to a cooperative falsehood; the hunger died and in its place a murmur of controlled madness. Filled Saito¡¯s mind with an untold story of confusion.


    Soon the singular voice spilt into a coherent two the anger, belittle and foul which chant an endless battle cry; defines it voice in harsh tones, which floods parts of Saito¡¯s mind. Worlds of an unholy broken beast destroyed and torn away unwilling from his home. The other a controlled turmoil. A presence resting in a peaceful panic; one which focuses on questioning instead of mindless threats. This voice of a soul wishing to know a way out.


    Two distinct voices there were to Saito.


    Both were trapped like Saito.


    Each one crying for some sort of attention, a desperate plea to summon fate to free them. The endless cage tightening itself to surround them in a boundless echo of their pleads. Saito couldn¡¯t help but listen to their desires; their misery uniting with his own despair from leaving home in such a forceful manner.


    At the thought of those left behind; Saito own heart whales, he can faintly feel tears up in his eyes as his soul beckons and yearns to go home, Saito clings to the fable and lies that this will be over soon.


    Yet as Saito could only confuse on his own despair, he couldn¡¯t help but notice how his own soul beckons and calls. Soft replies from the previous raging inferno of a mad beast and the longing of freedom both seemly acknowledge his own pain. Even if physically Saito was alone.


    Saito if that moment convinced his heart he had company. Afterall, misery loves company.


    Three separate voices, three separate people, three separate souls uniting to call in a single cry for freedom. Saito feeling the pull and grasping what little mental strength to bound his cries to unite with these unknown voices.


    Pain and lose ravaged in an infinite rage.


    A controlled meltdown of a caged animal desperately waiting for a chance to break free.


    A confused and overwhelmed youthful spirit.


    All brought together to light a plea from a single spark. This line flicker attempting to gain an audience in the horrors of a endless midnight. Trying to drag their destiny and savour to appear before them in the boundless sea of the faceless darkness.


    Their prays were heard


    It was quiet, barely a faint whisper in the drown sea of a voice trying out to the stranded to pull them away from the claws of the damned; the light grasp in which Saito felt touch his very being lulled him to feel hears. This savour, much like the dancing lights of the illusioned warriors he saw before brought a sense of peace. Much like before the presence of night seemly drove a thick wedge between those horrors, casting a protective light which bound those in the good graces to remain unburdened.


    Even the other mysterious souls in which Saito could detect had a sudden lull much like his own and calm themselves in this new being¡¯s presence.


    ¡°Who¡¯s t¡¯ere¡± A heavy accented voice calls.


    Saito rushed to swing open his eyes. Madly fluttering as if they needed to adjust to the stillness of the pitch-black room. He feels his body roughly turn to glare around, as if trying to sense where that voice originated from.


    But, as his eyes dart around fanatically, three beams of moonlight rays float to highlight three circular spots. Forcing away the darkness as the light shadows as the light rains above.


    Pressing his hand against the rays Saito found himself shocked at the sudden and unexplainable solid form stopping him from progressing. As if the light itself was a think stone like substance caging him inside. His hand glide and explore, yet at no point this heavenly trap found any sort of weakness


    Saito stared in wonder; his vision fixated on the pale rays which sparkle with purity as it rains over him. The light rest peacefully over his head, completely encompassing him within a circular cone. Yet as Saito went to peer at the other rays, he was greeted with a sudden appearance of two foreign bodies. Breaking the status-oi of the isolation the night brought, illuminating two guest which had apparently been standing quite close to him the whole time.


    He could just never of seen them.


    The first Saito could only describe them as a warrior of legends of old. Burly, hulking humanoid towering high above Saito. His gaze needing to lower to peer into Saito eye¡¯s. Faint greyish green skin completely covering his body. Messily clean shaved head with odd bits of hair remaining around the side of the beast face, while leaving a slick bun on the top. From the creature¡¯s mouth two twining teeth protrudes and sharply points and hangs from the beast lips. His hulking stature dominates his being. Standing close to (and what Saito could roughly guess around 6f10) a whole foot taller than he was; probably even more so. His torso was covered with a metal chest-plate and gauntlets on both wrists. Tight skinned leather books with woven straps bend around both legs. While resting in the beast hands, a large stocky hammer.


    Which dripped with blood¡­.


    A Saito stared longer. He could see that this monster was covered in blood. His armour had loose collective of red stains, his skin had small marking of various hand imprints, epically around the gaps from the gauntlets on his arms.


    ¡°Homzers, uid Cistus? Ufibe mus¡± The gruff voiced beast directed at Saito. Utilising his massive body and towering figure to harshly glare into Saito. His piercing glare makes Saito faulter. His instincts screaming and yelling about danger. Hidden pray instincts overwhelming his body with a sensation of wishing to flee. Weltering under the pressure as if this beast wrapped his gigantic hand around him. Saito simply could barely muster enough courage to look at the figure in their eyes.


    ¡°Homzers! Uid Cistus ulo du meo maumon!¡± The harsh voice continues. Pushing his body against the light ray¡¯s prison walls. Trying to force his body though. Yet no curve or dent appeared within the walls.


    Saito couldn¡¯t understand the mad rambling of the barbarian like brute, the words he spat with a viscous snarl flew over his head. Words which lacked any relevance of known language, yet he could feel this beast anger though every syllable.et he could tell the beast was angry at him.


    The towering body which stood high above Saito which dominated the beast presence, force Saito to be relegated in a invisible shadow underneath the beast form. The grunts and tone spelt doom. Between the wild and chaotic muttering from the beast, Saito could easily detect the faint common callings of someone¡¯s body language. If not for the light seemly keeping them apart, Saito truly thought this monster could (and probably wanted to) kill him.


    Turning his head away from the beast. Saito stared at the other ray of light. Standing a couple of paces away practically separated from the core where both the beast and Saito stood; this seemly human wore primitive tactical clothing of a would-be killer. Stitched black fine cloak covers the entire body in a vale of darkness, Yet the fine cloth had rough stitches and torn fabrics of light differing shades showing their how worn these must be. What could be seen of their under clothing matched though missed match layers of painted metal and patched leather belts holding pockets and other shelved items which Saito couldn¡¯t get a proper glance too. However, their knee-high skin guards could be seen to be wrapped with rope to case them together. The face of this mysterious stranger remains hidden under a mask which tightly clings to their face.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    The mask itself appeared quite basic in design. It covers the entire face in a plated metal covering, yet its deep stillness and mocking silence of black cast an image of a threatening shadow. Staring into two soulless eye sockets, he could wonder into the endless obis. It made him feel unsafe after everything.


    He just wants to see his sister. To keep the promise, he made. His flippant line of seeing her later he feels drift further into fantasy the longer he remains wherever he may be.


    Breaking the silence, a sudden voice rings from the fibres of reality.


    ¡°You have all met the terrible fate in which everything shall become if nothing is done.¡± The voice softly speaks. His calm tone clashes with the horrid threat of the meaning behind their sentence.


    ¡°The endless night drifts closer each day as more fall to ancient sickness which bears the illness. The darkness rises with the turning tides of malaise and malice to blind reality to its insufferable misery. The ancient curse bore by the unspoken tongue of vivid nightmares seep and steam into our worlds. The awaken nightmares drags our very known idea of reality into question as we battle for answers outside of moral and supernatural comprehension.¡± The voice rattles.


    ¡°The sickness is spreading, and my home needs the treatment to prevent our collective doom. Riding the source of the ability to plague the realm of mortals; removing our known reality from that in which the fates dictated. The deceptive truth in which hides our minds from what we know and can¡¯t perceive or observe lie in the hollow-hearted soul of the bringer of the sickness.¡±


    ¡°You already met the terrible fate in which destiny has chosen for every living creature in existence. The fabric of time itself is threatened. And now I see three lost and out of place souls stand within the golden glow before me.¡±


    The sudden voice echoes within the once silenced room. Clear authority dripping and spilling onto the endless overflow to address the three figures.


    ¡°Yet even in the harsh silence and disease of the dark, light is there to guide those back to the righteous path.¡± The bodyless voice encases the darkness; the fine rays of gold expand forcefully, sieging the night successfully to force them to flee, and as it does the room unravels. The thick golden light shrinks and twines itself to a peaceful stand of pure beams which leak from a high-strung window, stretching across a now revealed wooden floor.


    Littered and scattered around tables form and break into the light from the blacken night. With these tables, matching chairs and other basic d¨¦cor lay strung and discarded close by, some lazily half tucked, and hap hazard left abandoned, while others lay dead on the floor. A chivalrous chandelier brightly blazing waxed candles with fickle embers from the very centre of the formed roof. Casting a ever presence sombre light above Saito and the others.


    Across the room ancient d¨¦cor of metal suits of worn armour and mounted weaponry hangs from the rocks. Two twine blades carefully mounted over an open fireplace; a bow stationed on a far pillar though a lone nail which clings to the bow string. Many steals or craftsman innate craftmanship decorate the room. Almost mimicking guards withstands rigorously posing with a lose sword between their cuffed hands to dangle against the floor.


    Saito peered with wonderous vigour, glazing into primitive world before his time. He could feel a faint breeze rub against his body from the thatched roof, held together by thick wooden beams to maintain its structure. Standing direct behind a table, he cast a look to peer onto it, the abandon game (in which he believed had something to do with cards) lay unfinished with some turned over to hug the table tightly, yet clean carved wood figures also appear sporadically across the table, almost as if they were part of the game as well. Turning away he directly looks in front, being attention to a huge collection of barrels and kegs stacked against the wall, with a carved wood front aligned with imprinted images of would-be warriors or token of whoever¡¯s culture dance and twine with the wood. A few stranded stools also appear waiting to be used. Saito would guess that this building is some sort of tavern or primitive bar. The obvious signs of entertainment and alcohol immediately allows his mind to conclude that fact immediately.


    Taken back by the sudden change; Saito remains stood still as the other figures start to venture further into the room. No longer remaining stationary. The beast briskly strides straight to the counter. Loudly slamming their arms while quickly twisting his head from left to right to check for any signs of the barkeep. While the cloaked figure carefully monoverse themselves to cruse to the outer wall. Their hand lightly brushing against the suits of amour and weapons which hang around them.


    Taken back by the sudden change; Saito remains stood still as the other figures start to venture further into the room. No longer remaining stationary. The beast briskly strides straight to the counter. Loudly slamming their arms while quickly twisting his head from left to right to check for any signs of the barkeep. While the cloaked figure carefully monoverse themselves to cruse to the outer wall. Their hand lightly brushing against the suits of amour and weapons which hang around them.


    Yet Saito still didn¡¯t move from his spot. His legs rooted to the floor with his fear tightly woven to the ground, slowly sweeping though the boy in the unknown tavern.


    Saito knows this force keeping him still is imaginary. He eyes the proof of the others wondering aimlessly, as if to guide his body to copy them. Yet his mind is convinced of a fictional hoax.


    Until the voice came back.


    However, now (greeting with the voice) a new figure emerges.


    A figure (obvious male) dressed in fine fading green cotton with a large brown sash drifting across his torso, an enlarged steel buckle clips together to maintain a tight fit. Across his upper chest, steel engraved plates rest over both of his shoulders, with matching forearm plates just hidden underneath the cotton fabric. Swaying as he walks, his silky red trousers bunch together and excited dance with amusement, matching the man¡¯s speed. The man¡¯s hair slightly overgrown, yet neatly maintained to rest on his head and away from covering his vision. Yet perfectly blending with the man¡¯s suitable brown bearded face.


    Yet Saito couldn¡¯t see where this person appeared from.


    There were no doors.


    Quickly scanning the room once again, he conquered with his previous thought, they shouldn¡¯t of been another entrance.


    So how did this person get here?


    How did he get here? His thoughts purpose.


    As Saito was lost in thought, the previous two entities prey their eyes away from the common distractions of the room: directly greeting this new body with lingering stares and emphatic mistrust.


    They notice the man holding a small box. This figure calmly strolls past. The loud grunts from the wild beast do little to dismay the being path. Walking fixatedly to the bar. He opens a latch to the side of the counter. Swinging open a wooden half door to go around the counter.


    ¡°Ca ,ou ta casu?¡± the being ask, slightly turning his head, addressing everyone within the room.


    Saito saw how both the beast and cloaked figures stare at the being. Before noticing how the cloaked wonder, slowly protrudes from the outer edges to the bar itself. Casually leaning against the hard wooden frame.


    Putting the box on the counter, the figure turns to open a barrel behind him. Forcing his nimble figures to awkwardly wedge themselves between the cork; before an echoing pop erupts.


    A strange smooth golden liquid pours from the overhanging barrel. Dropping from the sky forming an archway similarly from a natural waterfall. The liquid riding on the winds of freedom becomes caged by different cups catching the liquid to contain it inside of them. The being smoothly slides each one down the counter to land in a neat horizontal line, all equal distanced from each other. The cloaked figure (already at the bar) lifts the cup and calmly eyeing the drink itself.


    Whereas the beast with a layer of hesitation and mistrust still stood away from the bar. Staring down each figure with caution.


    Saito finally free from the weight of nothing, beings to move himself to break the stalemate; each step being him closer to the bar. Each movement floods the room with lingering eyes.


    Until he is stood hanging over the drink. The shadow of his body cloaking the gold into a murky husk of its former bright glory.


    Carefully, Saito grips the decorative glass. The cold metal tightly binds itself to his hand; slowly drifting to his mouth. Before taking a few steady gulps.


    As the liquid danced within his mouth, he felt the rush and tingle of a warm fuzz build inside his body. A foreign feeling bubbling with ecstasy within his own soul, under the rouse of this drink. Each gulp twines with a sudden rush of furore and comfort; overwhelming any previous sense he might of had.


    He gulps the drink to sit within the containment of his body. Taking and savouring every droplet which lingered within its cage; obsessing to devour the liquid. Saito knew this was strange desire was abnormal, yet truly in this very moment he didn¡¯t care, he truly never tasted anything like this before.


    The beast, still off to the side made his way to the last remaining cup. Eyeing Saito and seeing no negative consequence he plucks the drink into his over sized hand before matching the boy.


    Both beast and boy drinks in lacklustre harmony. Under the watchful gaze of the barman.


    It wasn¡¯t until that the barman spoke again that Saito knew something has changed.


    ¡°I do hope you enjoyed the drink. Truthfully, I¡¯m quite impartial to this taste. I normally prefer ale or Gossberry beer.¡± The being spoke, now perfectly understandable to Saito.


    He almost earnestly response. The drunken high from the beverage tainting his sense to miss the critical detail.


    He didn¡¯t understand this person before.


    Yet now almost with complete clarity, the words which cleanly rattled from the being standing before him are perfectly normal.


    Saito couldn¡¯t help but become suddenly overwhelmed.


    Teared pricked at the edges of this eyes, some leaked and swoop solemnly to the floor. Dragging his head to follow. The drunken vigoro of the beverage being quickly tossed away after the sudden spill of confusion and anxiety. He could see the greyish giant attempt to wonder closer and gaze in his direction.


    ¡°Dear child, I truly am sorry,¡± The being said. Bring his hand to Gentilly rub Saito hair as the tears continue to stream from his eyes. Even bring an handkerchief from a lone pocket to help wipe his eyes, carefully clearing his skin kindly as the tears flowed freely.


    For this singular moment. Saito could just be an overwhelmed child

 Chapter 3 Fates champion

    Saito¡¯s tears dry with haste, as he wipes them with his shelve with a fanatic and quick motion to stop anymore from coming though. Yet the comforting hand from this stranger does not at once leave from its perch on his head. Slow rhythmic circles drift neatly on top of his hair, allowing his breaths and wheezes to siphon and fade into deep below to calm his own heart.


    ¡°It is okay to cry. I will not judge you here dear boy¡± The voice peacefully states.


    Raising his head to thoroughly investigate the third mysterious being. Saito saw his claiming and matured face slightly fixed with a small smile. His expression mirrored a smoothing parent comforting a child, yet the brief sudden spikes of pain which lingered behind his marron eyes showed how tired this being himself was. His brows relaxed yet pointed and farrowed to concentrate his fully attention to Saito. His eyes strained and barely open to soften any dulled expression this figure could make to help comfort the boy.


    ¡°What of you two, how are your drinks?¡± He asks.


    ¡°Good¡± The beast at once responds, before pausing, he raised a hand to gently touch and feel his throat. Quick murmurs of grunts escape his lips before looking back to the stranger. Pointing directly to the cup the beast asks.


    ¡°Some sort of spell, correct? Some sort of something arcane in nature?¡± The beast wonders.


    Saito meanwhile (after coming down from the shock of hearing the beast in a legible language) faltered after hearing magic. Such a blatant whimsical display of fallacy and fiction of make belief and illusions from street entertainers. Yet, the beast spoke which such disregard and commonality as these words simply dripped from his mouth unhindered but such rules of life.


    Yet nothing else Saito could use to rationalize this; or anything he has borne witness too from the last couple of minutes? Day? Weeks! Saito does not know but the: Imagines, the golden rays from seemly endless night, some sort of teleportation from his being. Everything which he once would have declared a scientific miracle or simple the ability in some sort of game happened quite flippantly in a matter of moments.


    He must be going insane.


    ¡°Why yes, crafted though specialized ritual and distortion magic. Quite ingenious to hide it within liquid though to hold the magic as an enchantment. I owe Bear that one.¡± The bartender replies, a cool resting sly smirk spills and lingers across his face, as if he remembers from lost memory.


    ¡°If I may¡­¡± A new feminine voice leaps from the conner of the table.


    Three heads all turn to face the sudden voice. Looking towards the blackened cloaked figure. All eyes trained against them.


    ¡°Where are we?¡± The voice abruptly calls from within the cloak.


    ¡°Hitting straight into the roots of your problem. My dear you are simply nowhere, just where you need to be¡± He responds, the cool smirk and humorous glint within his eyes.


    ¡°Nowhere is still somewhere, your wits and poetry will not hide your lies from me. So, I will ask again. Where am I?¡± Unamused by the bartender haphazard response to her question.


    ¡°And my dear once again all I can say is that for now¡­ You are all simply nowhere.¡±


    ¡°Huh¡± A fickle laugh from the beast erupts. Silencing any response from the shaded cloaked figure.


    ¡°Humans like you honestly think they are clever; mixing words in a vail to hide meaning and their true intent. I am down listening to this, and I want answers. So, I agree with the shadow over there, but I will not ask nicely the second time. Where are we?¡± The beast demands. His eyes glance over to meet the figure of incarnation of shade as a moment of support; before flaring a snarl to the bartender.


    ¡°People like me¡­¡± The bartender repeats. His eyes close for the briefest moment. As if his body has physical absorbed the words coming from the beast, closing the window to his soul to emotional sperate himself as if the words could hurt him.


    Before slowly opening as his lips parted to say.


    ¡°And who am I like then?¡± He questions.


    The beast pauses, a hand raised to stroke his chin and he ponders the question. Gears in his mind grinding and turning cogs to jumpstart his thought to pinpoint the similarities to the human he knew of.


    Yet something truly became of these wondering thoughts; the rampant mind plagued wit thought tried to latch evidence to missing information. Clutching still images and loss strings to paint the familiar picture of those who are like this being in front of him.


    Yet nothing stuck.


    As the silence drags, the bartender places both of his arms to lean on top of the bar, resting his hand to lay over a makeshift perch form his backhands to hold his head, while a protruding sly smile shines from his eyes. Looking directly at the beast he replies.


    ¡°Your mistaken Orc. I am not the monster in this tale of fate in which you now find yourself in. Or at least not the villain by choice.¡±


    Saito could not help but shrink into himself, making his body as small as possible. Attempting to mask his own presence as three sets of eyes clash against each other. Growing dread of being suffocated between each bastion slowly builds; with the raging storm brewing overhead being to turn feral. Saito peers to the Orc beside him, a thunderous crackle erupts from his fist, as they tightly squeeze the bar counter. Not containing his aggression.


    He could not help himself as he spoke.


    ¡°I am Saito¡­ What is your name?¡± Saito innocently wonders. His body still stuck and shrunk as his arms close around his body, his face turned more to study the countertop then to continue looking to the strangers before him. Dragging the attention of each figure to gaze inquisitively at the boy. Breaking though his stiff state to gaze at him.


    Saito shudders under the pressure. Still feeling the burns from the lingering stains of old tears; but now joining his misery the weight of everyone¡¯s silence. Each judgemental gaze picking him apart.


    It was the bartender who spoke first.


    ¡°I¡¯m Yugoh, the pleasure is mine.¡± Lifting his head to free his hands as he puts one out to offer his hand to Saito; a sly tired smile plastered for a friendly greeting after the strained encounter.


    Saito shyly accepts. The slow uneasy lifting of their unity faults in an awkward but completed handshake.


    Yugoh makes no remark about such sudden social decorum if he even noticed. Saito silently appreciates within his own thoughts, showing a slightly raised half smile at recognising his own blunder for causing such a mess of the simple handshake.


    ¡°I do not suppose you can tell us why you brought us here then? Or at the very least where here is?¡± Saito ask awkwardly.


    Yugoh small smirk and acute sly jolt to life his gaze just over the body of Saito, to wonder into the claws of the remaining shadows which lurk on the far walls.


    ¡°I never summoned you.¡± Yugoh responds.


    ¡°Then who did?¡± The feminine voice calls,


    ¡°They did¡±


    Immediately a sudden chill freezes the once directed hostility to merge into a turmoil of frost, running up the spine of the three lost figures. All instinctively rattling with furious fright and frozen furry. The chilling echo runs a ghastly hand to vigorously touch and linger across their spine.


    The beast (who detected the slight shift in Yugoh focus) is the first to face the growing shadow. A fierce growl builds from his throat. The vocal threat doing little to dismay the figure from edging closer.


    Saito and the cloaked figure (after hearing the faint clutter of feet tapping on the floor) tune their eyes to wonderless stare in a bewildered fashion.


    The haunting phantom involved by the raging shadow soon phases into a humanoid figure. Dressed in rugged black leather coat, which completely covers his entire torso and arms apart from a fine black pair of gloves which grip the figures hand. Completely covering his body, with thick heavy trousers with a skirt buckle and kilt with studded metal clipped around his waist. Also tightly wrapped in studded leather a book woven to hide underneath the cloak of the coat. No sign of skin or any natural body underneath the heavy clothing. A long hanging overhead travels to loosely hang above where their face should be.


    Saito flinches as two desolate voids stare at the group. Fixed gaze towards all the creatures which stand before the shadow. Yet plastered on where the creatures face to be, an old bulky mask (in which Saito could recall being commonly used in England during the black death) plague mask. An eldritch nose preludes from the night. Reaching out of the night to spear head into the world itself.


    Saito could not help but wonder. What could a creature like this need from him?


    ¡°This being is what has summoned you, each one of you.¡± Yugoh clarifies. A sad smile resting over his face, as if the pain of admitting this brought a semblance of pain; before slipping away leaving a hollow grimace behind.


    The beast dramatically turns to fully face the creature, before closing the distance with rapid pace.


    Until he stood directly in front of it. The hulking mass dominates and towers over the blackened figure, physically twisting himself to cast his projected shadow to lay over the figures body. The artificial darkness doing little if the creature¡¯s reaction (lack thereof) was a clear interaction.


    At least not at once. Slowly its head menacingly rises from the ground. The pointed beak briefly bites and nibbles against the beast bare chest; before stopping as it points directly to the wild one¡¯s face.


    Another tense stare down begins. The hulking muscle mass against a blacken shadow.


    Before the night effortlessly walks past. As if no longer entertaining the beast, ignoring, and passively dismissing it. The creature only stops it path when directly standing behind Yugoh. Drifting behind to encompass space between barrels, causing its bold to weave itself throughout the bar, where the rays of light never truly reach.


    Yet the beast has not moved.


    Breaking the silence, Yugoh speaks again.


    ¡°You know my name and our follow companion here as well.¡± Raising a hand to point towards Saito. ¡°But may we hear yours my dear?¡± Yugoh asks.


    ¡°Petra¡± She flatly states


    ¡°Lovely name for a lovely lady, what about you good sir?¡± Yugoh ask the beast, who had yet to turn from his spot. Rooted the floor with a fixated obsession to remain still.


    Petra idly gazes over, covering her blatant feeling by raising her half empty glass to loosely slip as she stares at the beast.


    From her position and isolation from herself orchestration and regulation to the far Connors of the bar counter, her eyes meet a mellow and faded gloss of an earlier vibrant brown iris.


    Until they suddenly flicker back.


    A brief wondering second occurred of fragile peace, before the awaken furry erupts.


    A loud thump echoes as the beast chases his leg to the floor. Sending a thunders uproar within the stone covered wall. The idle armour in proximity mildly shudder, as the building faintly shakes.


    Stomping to the counter, the beast storms past a still Saito and tries to lift himself over; wildly thrashing his arms to try and grab the shadow with a psychotic glint of hatred burning within his lit iris.


    ¡°Friend¡­¡± Yugoh tries. Before the rage turns against him. Grappling him by the roof of his clover from his worn top and forcing Yugoh to stand face-to-face. A snarl and flared teeth with sickening drool flee the beast jaw.


    ¡°Make that thing take me back home.¡± He demands.


    ¡°It.¡± Yugoh tries but the beast anger flares. Slightly pushing him away while keeping his grip, to suddenly pull harder and slam Yugoh into himself.


    ¡°I need to get back quickly I have no time. Take me back now!¡± The beast again demands. A pleading hatred wrapped in the vail of desperation, his eyes flickering from shadow to man in which neither tried to move to aid in his request.


    ¡°I know¡­ I know you do not want to be here. I truly know, for each of you have been dragged here in a sudden flicker from your own home. I am terribly sorry. The timekeepers have summoned you. All of you, for their bidding.¡± Yugoh states. The sad smile with gleaming eyes staring directly into the beast, no hint of anger or pain amusing itself to appear on him.


    Slightly turning his head to the left, a silent signal sent between the shadow and himself.


    ¡°The timekeeper¡¯s have summoned you to appear here now has fate has foretold them; you are here to protect life as we know it; rolling some dice for a chance of a better existence outside the realms of shadow.¡± Yugoh finishes. The immediate silence roared with boisterous laughter. The iron grip fades into a loose hold in which Yugoh easily slips through.


    Saito minds flares. Confused and afraid in morbid den of a shallow fog. Confusion and fear overwhelming his senses. His voice barely breaks a whisper.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Saito questions.


    A small sigh escape before Yugoh answers.


    ¡°A threat, one to grave to be ignored with an ever-growing presence; one in which if left unchecked will threatened the entire realm of man across differing worlds. Yet this shade hides within the outer bounds of the natural order and weakens those who falter, allowing it to stay hidden in a light vail to cover knowledge of its existence. An evil in which my followers have titled as the darkness.¡± Yugoh responds.


    ¡°What does this have to do with me being here? Some being calling me to fight and saying how fate decreed me to be here?¡± The beast flares.


    Yugoh does not at once break his sight to fix his gaze to the beast, a sly idle turn with a prolonged blink to cover an annoyance before he speaks.


    ¡°May I ask for your name?¡±


    ¡°Jakhal¡±


    ¡°Well, Jakhal. It means everything for someone like you.¡± Yugoh continues. ¡°Your very existence: your being, soul, memories. Everything you could ever hold, or love will be destroyed in the cover of night is this darkness is not stopped.¡± Turning back to look across the group to direct his speech to everyone. ¡°Not just his either; everything from my own home to the widest reaches of the realm of man. Each place in which sentient beings lay under the founding sun and the long arcane trail which feeds us strength will fall. The shade will bring about the closing of the sun and smoother the light in a blanket of night.¡±


    Saito could not help but imagine his own life. Memories of old which thrive within his mind of love and joy, before they morph into a midnight scare of fading faces and unrecognisable horrors of unknown space. He could not help but think of his sister; how scared she would be, how her tears already broke through her hollow and plastic smile, before slipping away to moron herself in a silence prison of night. Cold and alone, with the growing evil slowly consuming her as her cries do not break the siege against her.


    Already Saito could still feel the noring sense of guilt from simply being here. The betrayal in which clings to his soul as he broke his promise. (Even unintentionally and no fault of his own) the thoughts linger to once puffy tear-stained face from this morning returning as she cannot find her brother. Saito hated it. He could not save her even from his own head.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Yet this darkness that he was chosen for by some mystical shadow to be destined to stop. Any sane person instincts would believe themselves to be dead at this point. Taken from the familiar sight of his classroom to now be standing between a giant and a lady dressed as if she was ready to vandalise, a bartender and a shadow.


    Sounds like a beginning of a really shit joke.


    Yet the fear in which Saito spots as he looks to Yugo¡¯s eyes, one in plain view to the world as he shows his inner soul thoughts and worries, beckoning those which dare to set their eyes to linger, the clearly defined pain and fear this darkness is causing him. The ringing sound of desperation and intoxicating fear drills its way into Saito¡¯s heart as if he could hear it himself.


    Saito could not help but believe him.


    ¡°This doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡± Petra calls out.


    ¡°The hand of time calls you three to answer my plea. Destiny is calling for you to act. Any other sense is meaningless when compared to the larger picture.¡± Yugoh informs.


    ¡°You are simply saying that due to that thing we are here. What do you want us to do? Fight the night?¡± Jakhal ask sarcastically. His agitated tone still slipping through to lash against Yugoh.


    ¡°To aid in fighting off the darkness here as it can be held. As I have said¡± Yugoh directs.


    ¡°You have not told us anything! Where even are we? This darkness such a big threat how have we never heard of it? This flow of what?¡± Petra lists off. Her earlier calm demeanour slowly fading into light frantic probing.


    Taking a moment to collect his breath before responding.


    ¡°This place is between the planes. We exist only because being which control this space allows me to exist here. It holds a plasmatic connection to my home world of Irratell. This is where the plague is threatening. The foot of the realm of man holds the gateway to the greater regions where the flow of arcane could reach. Already decades of lingering haze have spouted within my home world; this small sickness if left alone will grow to cover the entire realm to be conjoined in the shade.¡± Yugoh informs. As Yugoh speaks, his hands drift to open the small treen box. Unlatching with slight scream as the metal flicks open; rusted hinges mount a cry of pain as Yugoh forces it open.


    His bare hands reach in. lifting out what the three guest assume was some sort of ingot; a smooth royal purple with a blazing hew where the flaming flickers of embers rattle to light the ingot. Placing it on the hard counter, resting his hand on top of the metal. Before slipping his hand to glide over the counter, breaking the ingot apart into fine parts of slim metal plates.


    Each slither was primary the same sovereign purple, but each piece was decorated with four indigo azure serpents in which their bodies clung within a core within the centre of the metal slip of an ornate gemstone. Each of the creatures caged within a golden ring which circles the very outer edges which loosely climbs to the corners. A quick murmur escapes Yugoh lips before life sprang from the metal, glass sparks glitter as hundreds of dimes twine with life. Pale glint of blue particles in which lights up the counter for the strangers. Clustered lights flicker to suddenly appear, most still are clumped together, only few spots scintillate and shine away from the groups.


    ¡°What you are seeing here is a map of the realm of man, each speck of light is a world where beings like yourselves inhabit.¡± Yugoh points to a lone flicker furthest to the head of the counter by Petra.


    ¡°Irratell is here, placed at the very outer region here.¡± Yugoh points to a lone spark. The three strangers stare at the lone flicker, standing off where the lights fade to an outer shadow. Yugoh ignores every other fateful spark which lingers across the counter; his eyes fixate to a single point.


    ¡°Here is Irratell, my home world¡± Pointing to a lone glimmer at the very corner, isolated from the mass gathering. ¡°We are a point in which we function as a gate to everything from the outer regions. This outer shell in which each spark here draws strength from must be filtered through here. Meaning everything for the realm of man in terms of life, magic even to the very gods themselves across other worlds. All draw their strength from the greater boundaries of the unexplored.¡± Yugoh explains.


    ¡°How does this strength spread? If it all goes through here would not that mean, it is all collected here? How does it spread to other worlds?¡± Petra questions.


    ¡°Though the flow of Arcane, a mysterious and unexplainable process in which this energy passes though, its effects linger on worlds. Even though it passes through this world does have an abnormal amount of this energy. But that simply allows for more powerful beings to exist. The mass energy gives raise to naturally more powerful beings such as the gods. Some worlds only have a minuscule amount, meaning extraordinarily little in terms of power or magic. Yet enough so that existence of humanoids can still exist in some role. Without this flow life itself of us humanoids. Not matter how powerful will cease to exist.¡±


    Taking a quick moment to catch his breath before continuing.


    ¡°This is one of the many reasons as to why this growing darkness needs to be stopped. If my world falls then it controls the gate to the flow of Arcane, we have no idea what this sickness could do with that power. It could destroy life as we know it.¡±


    ¡°And fate as brought us here to stop this¡± Jakhal mocks. His sneering tone biting against the ears of Yugoh.


    ¡°Fate, the flow of Arcane or to hell a higher being in which time itself responds too. They choose you; time has chosen you. You three are here standing before me to answer a cry for help. So please follow destiny and help me.¡±


    A drifting silence falls over the three strangers, a haunting song gleams from the wondering souls of hollow eyes. An ever-lasting stare mingling with a fasting relevance as it twines and falls as each one longingly stares at each blue spark.


    Satio could not help his aimless staring, his vacuous thoughts wonder in a fixated obsession, his eyes glance over each spark to ponder a single question. Which one of them was his? His own world, his everything. He could not help but imagine a vale blackened sot which had previously grown around them envelope these pale blue sparks to flicker embers of night instead. How this darkness would bring about what Yugoh described as the true end of life. Selfishly, horrible ignorance swelled within Saito heart; in a single moment of learning life outside of his own boarders of time he could hardly seem to care. Billions of hominids like him, but he could only really wonder about his family. His sister, his mother, his farther. The only beings in which Saito very soul would give a semblance of care overwhelmed any sort of sympathy he could have to countless other lives.


    He only had three to truly protect.


    ¡°So, everything we love will just die¡­¡± Saito breathlessly wonders.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Yugoh flatly states. The factual emotional tone breaks any sort of doubt within the wider knowledge of truths.


    ¡°This doom¡­ This evil, its bad but I cannot just be here. I just cannot¡± Jakhal tries to finish his sentence. A thick grimace and brief single droplets of tears fall from his eyes. Lifting his hand to quickly wipe them away and taking a loud sniff to compose himself.


    Yugoh small, tired smile shines to the once angered beast.


    ¡°For your presence here and cooperation in aiding my plea, the timekeepers will allow time within your home world. Anything that was once happening for you has completely stop as a favour to you for our partnership in this. They do not want any lingering threads which can be pulled to distract you from your true and only goal. Everything you loved and could hold will be the same when you return.¡±


    A fluttering silence splits the room, sudden thoughts splinter and halt in a frozen blanket; their precious life is safe. Saito guilt quick relinquished under a smooth haze of relief. He left during class, a moment from the start of the school day; he could keep his promise. The relief on being able to fulfil his promise to his sister, to see her during lunch. Frail tears threatened to smite his eyes to allow them to fall.


    ¡°So, where we were? Who we were with? Everything has just stopped?¡± Petra questions. ¡°Surely consequences spawn from such actions? You speak of a greater cause and realms how does this affect everything?¡±


    ¡°The very hands in which turns time has chosen this action. This decision, I had no part in making, even if I am pleased that it has been made. I am no expert on the effects of time across worlds greater then my own; even barriers of different planes of existence operate on similar laws which surround the realms. This action my world dire consequences for all we know. All I am, is a simple man playing the cards I have been delt, on the board in which is constantly evolving. All I can say in board sense is that time between realms do act differently.¡± Yugoh explains.


    ¡°How differently?¡± Petra quickly follows.


    ¡°Enough that if someone would travel between the inner realms to Irratell with no assistance to distort time. Around three to four months would vanish before their eyes. Simply leaving their world to travel such distance across space in as quick as a moment of instant travel, time continues its pursuit, without waiting for them.¡±


    ¡°So right now, our home worlds are frozen? Stuck in time?¡± Petra questions.


    ¡°In the most basic of terms yes. The timekeepers reversed the natural flow of Arcane to disconnect life from the living forces of the greater cosmos. This manipulation hide life from the internal clocks and motions of time. Thus, keeping them frozen in time.¡± Yugoh clarifies.


    ¡°Why cannot they simply freeze this darkness. If they are so powerful and this threat is so real, why can¡¯t they simply keep this thing out? Why can¡¯t they freeze it?¡± Jakhal queries.


    ¡°It is not living. That is the simplest answer to that question. It is from the outer edges of the shadows from beyond the realm of humanoids. This is turn removes them from the Arcane flow in which all our life forms must obey. Thus, the timekeepers cannot directly approach to freeze the problem. They cannot direct their energy or existence. It simply would not affect it.¡±  Yugoh finishes.


    ¡°Another thing, if these timekeepers could control everything living, then why did they go through so much trouble is stopping time on our worlds? Couldn¡¯t if they forced us to obey?¡± Jakhal ponders.


    Slightly turning his head so his gaze can briefly face the timekeeper within the shadows behind the bar; the sweet silence and sly stare of thoughtful communication between the two beings echo within the stillness, before Yugoh answers.


    ¡°I do not know. Perhaps they have empathy somewhere inside of them. Even if fate has dedicated and planned your arrival, to aspect you all to simply comply to everything we are asking. Maybe they believe you all deserve some sort of kindness; allowing you all to return to comfort when this is over.¡± Yugoh believes. His uneasiness and wondering tone obviously displaying the lack of knowledge in the inner working of the timekeepers.


    ¡°If we agree to all of this. What happens to us? Like are you just going to drop us somewhere with the cloths on our backs? I am just a person! I do not know what to do here!¡± Saito panics. The thought of just suddenly appearing in a new world with nothing dawns on him.


    ¡°That is true, none of has anything in terms of weaponry or armour. This boy has not even become an adult yet how could we aspect him to fight some darkness?¡± Jakhal cold gaze lingers over Saito. His slight muscular build deters little appreciation from the Orc.


    ¡°To each of you I bestow a gift. Please take one of my treasures.¡± AS Yugoh finishes, he turns over a card (in which some sort of primitive crossbow but much smaller appears) before all the royal purple cards flip over, the running line of each card lifting itself into the air before quickly dropping to the counter, displaying some sort of weapon in a pale blue light over the card.


    The once small flickers which once showed the entire universe, disappears and morphs into a symphony of dazzling wonders of metal. Saito could identify the medieval style of chivalrous weaponry. Others Saito could assume came from barbaric savage tribe members, each one needing some monstrous being to dictate and control the power. Others appeared more refined in appearance, images of knights with bristling great swords lingers briefly. Other more common items such as the primitive bow and arrow also appears to try and sway Saito gaze; but it still is stationary and isolated to the wall of metal.


    Jakhal at once grabs a large titian of a Warhammer. The long hilt and over stretched handle become tightly woven in his palms, lifting the rough steel melded hammer with little effort. Using only one hand to carry the weapon, his idly brushing his hand to dance over the hammer itself. His inquisitive gaze inspects the weapon, lingering over every fine detail of the hammer; scrutinising every fine wonder in which the weapon must bestow.


    ¡°It¡¯s lighter than it should be¡± Jakhal states. His tone riddled with absolute confidence in his assessment. Turning his gaze from the weapon to return a mordant glance to Yugoh.


    ¡°But no less effect in combat, maybe even more so then usual¡± Yugoh quick response. The few words back by an edging smirk.


    Saito looks over to the far side of the bar counter to see Petra calmly retrieve two dual daggers with little effort. Lazily pulling the weapons from the pale blue light to pull the meta; blades free; before quickly tucking them inside her coat. He did however catch a quick glance to small vails of glass stashed away, some slightly peeping out to greet the new unfamiliar world.


    Peering over the choice which floats before him; Saito could not help but think about everything that is happening to him, the blades which stand before him will be used to kill. Saito cannot help but eye how easily the two strangers have taken arms to kill something. Someone.


    Yet Saito cannot help but feel the compulsive need to take something, even with no training, no knowledge, the self-preservation, and desire to have something. His instincts flare a desperate warning to grab something useful.


    So, he did.


    A basic sword. Light in design with a hard metal handle with woven straps to act as grip, these strap handle covered with bright velvet leathers in dashing colours. The sleek blade refined into a neat slim point with a sharp slashing edge.


    Holding the blade was surreal for Saito. His hand tightly forced his finger to cling to the metal. Saito reflexively holds the blade horizontal across his body, a few swings of lifting his arm to slash across the body and trying an upward thrust. This foreign feeling of this medieval instrument felt horribly right for him. Someone who has never tried to kill anyone, now holding a blade, and knowing the reason behind it.


    They are probably going somewhere dangerous. Why else would this gift be a weapon?


    ¡°You haven¡¯t held a blade before have you Saito.¡± Yugoh pinpoints as he looks over, seeing his amateurish display of sword work.


    ¡°Never had too, the worst possible threat to me was my parents if I forgot my schoolwork.¡± Saito joked; an awkward smile plastered on his face at his admission of his own life. Now suddenly feeling quite lucky at his own world he was birthed in.


    ¡°Humph¡± Jakhal and Petra scoffs, turning away from then, the dismissal and clear undertone of vexation at his admission of never needing a weapon. A clear disconnect between the strangers.


    ¡°you¡¯ll have time to learn, but to make sure you can keep up and to cause problems, ill lend you a helping hand.¡± Yugoh smiles, a shimmering royal purple glows from his hand as he walks over to Saito. Gripping the handle in which Saito¡¯s hands are still holding, the purple mist floating over the blade and Saito hand; before sinking and fading into the blade and Saito.


    The sudden rush flexed his mind and muscles; an extraordinary rush of something floods his body. Suddenly the blade did not feel so foreign anymore, the anxiety he once felt was overwhelmed by an excited bastion of intent drips from his emotions. Saito does not know what has happened, why his mind now drips with maliciousness; this twisted ardour was completed artificial to Saito, yet almost felt so natural to him as well.


    ¡°This blessing gave the blade the will to aid you in combat, allow for it to guide you to strike your foe. Unluck your new companions, you lack any proper experience in true combat, whilst combined they have years of insight to the art of fighting. You cannot afford to slow them down; this weapon will guide you, so follow it. Master the abilities it will grant you as you grow stronger. Do all you must to stop the darkness.¡± Yugoh directs.


    The earlier flood of adrenalin and feverish desire started to disperse, the swelling of the drug induced state, quickly submitted to Saito body, falling into a whimper within a psychedelic haze within the far corners of his own mind. Saito inequities glanced to his weapon, a feral predatory mistrust towards the foreign blade and subsequence reaction; this blade masterfully toyed with his soul to consume him, manipulated his actions to be briefly the blades own. Saito mind ran rampant with voiceless doubt, questions quickly fluttered and rang within the confines of his own mind: For what was he going to use a sword? Before this moment, he had not really thought about it, the use of a weapon at all. He was expected to kill.


    They all were.


    Why did no one else seem bothered by this? Both Jakhal and Petra calm and inquisitive demeanour shows their unhindered interest and desire for this very moment; he even saw Petra twirl the two blades elegantly around her backhand. The clear familiarity she had with the weapon, her clear experience arrogantly on display.


    ¡°Unlike your new friend here, I do not have anything else to offer you. Your weapons do hold similar traits to grow. But not the inheriting guidance to aid you. I did not know his lack of experience.¡± Yugoh said, turning away from the silent child.


    ¡°It is apricated in any case, having a child running around with no experience is idiotic. At least he can learn what to do.¡± Jakhal responds, sending a glance to the boy. A sigh escaping his lips as he does so.


    Yet Petra glance from the timekeeper within the lingering shadow to Yugoh crept over; stopping the blades from dancing over her hand she speaks.


    ¡°You would think that the arrival of the chosen ones you would know these sorts of things, especially when you already have spoken to us with such familiarity.¡± Petra calls out. Her voice edging the line of suspicion with laced cruelty wrapped within a vale of neutrality.


    ¡°Much like how I said before, the timekeepers have chosen you. If I had any prior knowledge or the slightest expectation that a child would stand before me¡­¡± Taking a breath before continuing ¡°If I expected a child I would have probably still called if the timekeepers brought them, but the least I can do is give them the edge they need to survive.¡± Yugoh states, His hand now running along the bar counter, collecting each card as he went; the fine pale lights vanishing one by one as the cards re-joined the deck.


    ¡°Wait, if you did not have any prior knowledge about us, then why trust us? What have we done to gain this sort of trust from you to complete your goal?¡± Jakhal asks.


    A sly drag of Yugoh right eye to look towards the shadow lingering behind him, facing the timekeeper with a keen glint within his hazel eyes. Jakhal follows his vision, his focused eyes stalk Yugoh vision like pray. The haunting talons closing around the unaware mouse, Jakhal sees the brief connection between timekeeper and Yugoh.


    ¡°I know only what the timekeepers tell me, only what they deem useful.¡± Yugoh coolly responds.


    ¡°And what does count as useful?¡± Petra quickly jabs; her voice leaping across the counter to drag herself into the conversation.


    A drifting silence tears apart the little peace built on the loose connection between strangers, soon flickers into a haze as the silence mounts as Yugoh stays still; his eyes evenly gloss over the awaiting crowd. Yugoh ever so slightly turns away from the group to make eye contact once more with the shadow lingering behind him.


    ¡°Truthfully, the information I am given is nothing in which anyone could get from just seeing any of you. The minscule information is more a summary of the being who would stand before me.¡± Yugoh slowly drags out. His face stays glued to the shade behind him. Refusing to entertain the idea of facing the group in front of him when he spoke.


    ¡°Anyway, you have been with me long enough that you all most likely wish to get this all over with so you can go home. But I think its time for you all to leave, go onwards and march to your destiny!¡± Yugoh yells. The earlier drain on the atmosphere suddenly bounces with an artificial excitement. The cards in Yugoh hands slowly begin to float in the air, gently hovering around the three strangers. Each one suddenly realising the weight on the sentence, the frightful realisation of being truly transported into another world, the comfort of the walls and being beside them, suddenly being stripped away before they could understand anything.


    ¡°Wah.¡±


    ¡°Wait! No! Not yet!¡±


    ¡°Damn it we need more time Yugoh!¡±


    The panic cries of the strangers subconsciously escape the lips of all three strangers. Begging and pleading. Yet the growing embers of light from the cards dispel any idea of being heard.


    ¡°I have a friend, an old one, but one you can trust. He will help you find a good starting point. Find a town called Gilley. He is waiting there for you.¡± Yugoh stops, reaching out a hand, three new cards, each one the same royal purple with golden fibres drift over to the group. Placing themselves on each one¡¯s right hand, before merging with little displeasure or uneasiness from anyone. Their mind to preoccupied with their oncoming fate.


    ¡°The sign on your hand will let anyone know that you with us. Anyone who can be trusted will have this sign on them. They are now family to you; they will protect you. But do not let anyone else discover this¡­¡± A foreboding tone and warning spills over the group. A clear intent dripping from Yugoh mouth.


    ¡°Will we see you again!¡± Saito yells.


    The light grew tremendously, filling the room with blinding haze of angelic white. The overwhelming luminescence lights litter and impair any eyes who try to remain open.


    Yet Yugoh voice cuts though it all. His shift to a soft, warm voice being Saito¡¯s soul a slighter of comfort.


    ¡°You will see me so much¡­ You will probably start hating me¡­¡±