“Do you like this my little Amelor? Oh yes you do, you like being a little Master of Light, don’t you?” the play of his mother, still fresh in his memory, from a not so distant past. When most couldn’t even understand speech, he was fully aware. A boy of legend, born in a life of tragedy.
Amel listened for the outside, he couldn’t decipher Om’s information, it was all hazy and all over the place, and he couldn’t infuse his mind at will with light, so he was left wondering at the best of his current mental capacity. He heard the screams and familiar sounds, but chose to cover his ears, holding Femel between his legs, and hugging him at times. “Do you hear them brother? The sounds of the monster,” he was trembling, the trauma haunting him even when he didn’t understand the source of the chaos. “I can protect us though, just hold onto me tight, like I did before, just hold on tight brother,” the light within him started to stir. The awakened force from three days ago, awakening once more at a new terrifying point.
Before it could reach the point of escape, the latch opened, Amel’s eyes widened, expecting to see the face of the monster, but it was just Om. Barely scraping his stone and metal body through the thin, for it, doorframe. The sight of the round head and two red gems instead of eyes, reassured the scared child. Femel was sound asleep, his afternoon nap given that he felt safe.
Amel tried to gather what happened after they went down from Om, however, the information adopted a new pattern, in an almost new language. It would take Amel some time to decipher it, and given that he had to take care of his learning, he chose his impulsive, childish nature over the more cold, calculated he had while his mind was infused with light.
Slowly, the afternoon turned into sunset and night befell the lands once more. This night, Amel would hear distant noises, his constructs would report the sightings of travelling people, carrying their belongings and going for some other kingdom or even land. It was only natural, their main supply of food was from Kinlakes, and given the state of the country, if Kinlakes’ people had died like Amouldes, then it would be wiser to travel there and procure food. The lands were also the best in terms of yield, so it could act as an anchor for the people of Amouldes, who could barely supply themselves with their own food, to settle in and live once more.
Amel didn’t like the thought of travel. The lands have become dangerous for those staying inside their houses, let alone the roads. And his thoughts would prove the wiser, as a good portion of the people of Amouldes who travelled west, beyond the river Fmrir, found themselves in the best case robbed of their goods and food, and in the worst, killed and eaten.
The following morning, Amel would resume his training, trying to get inside the metal of rusted sheers. While Femel, would spend a good portion of the day sleeping, a fever taking over him. Amel, while an expert in the arcane and such at his frail age, he didn’t know how an infant should be treated. But it wasn’t due to Femel being not taken care of, he is rather tough, it was the issue of the fallentooth disease. Femel was still not of age to travel, and being brought into the open, he was exposed to the disease.
The disease, unbeknown to the people of Amouldes, is usually carried by adults, who have grown an immunity to it through a few generations of trial and error. Those which came the day prior, carried the disease from other farms which they looted. Amel would get away with a few sneezes and a sore throat, but Femel would suffer from a high fever and may be at risk of losing all his future teeth. It wasn’t the worst disease out there, yet it certainly wasn’t pleasant to deal with, as the rot of the teeth would cause immense nerve pain, until it killed all of them.
While Femel was suffering from his fever, watched only by Om who didn’t know how to act, given his experiences and memories were based off of those of Amel, the construct simply watched, and at times poked him, as per Amel’s request. This was the innocent way of Amel to test if his brother was fine, if Femel pushed away the finger, he wouldn’t worry, if he didn’t, he would rush to see what is going on. While it wasn’t foolproof, it was better than nothing.
The day would go smoothly, no sightings beyond those of the occasional human going out of the city and into the world, trying their luck. While Amouldes wasn’t the only city of the Kingdom Amouldes, the other city, Tainas, was a long way away, and if proven to be the same as Amouldes, then people would waste precious time they could spend going for Kinlakes. Which was a far more valuable proposition, given their vast deposits of food.
At the end of the day, Amel would finally crack a bit into the intricacy of metals. By infusing his light constantly, he finally found a path, and for his first sign of success, the tremor of the metal as if trembling. A basic human function, yet a huge thing to assign something without life. Happy by his results, he wanted to show it to Femel, even if he didn’t understand it. When he arrived upstairs, where he slept tightly, he smelled something bad. Om pointed at the sheets, saw that they were soaked wet and something smelling from below. Since Femel couldn’t get out of the bed, he just used the bed as his bathroom. Not knowing what to do, Amel forgot all about his new discovery, and focused on dealing with the issue. He willed Om to take him to the near fountain and wash the stink away, then the other constructs to take the sheets and find some place far away to throw them. Thankfully, their blanket was down on the floor and avoided the disaster.
Amel started to grow a bit worried, his brother was certainly not well and given the bad smell of the pee and faeces, he was sure that something must be done, he just didn’t know what. While he struggled his mind to find a solution, by the time Om returned with Femel, there was no need for one. Femel was playing, climbing and messing around once more. This bewildered Amel, how could someone on such a bad state simply go back to being fine? The answer was beyond his understanding, or most people’s. Femel’s body was different than that of normal humans, able to withstand disease and physical harm like no other. Further, his body functioned in an odd way, where once exposed to the same danger twice or more times, it would start to adapt to it. It is not to say he could survive fire one time, recover, then suffer lesser burns. It is to say that his body would develop methods of combating harm. In the case of diseases, it would work much more efficiently.
Whatever it was, Amel would start to grow desensitized to such things, as Femel was beyond him.
Once the day has ended, the two brothers would sleep together once more, dreams enveloping their young and developing minds. Om and the other constructs, on the other hand, have started to further their aggressive tactics. Om would especially keep watch of the roads at night, and if anyone dared step one foot in the farm, he would appear from below the grains, aided by the other constructs, and chase or beat anyone. It wouldn’t matter whether they were woman, man or child, Om would apply the same for everyone, and the other constructs aided them. A tactic which would prove to bite back at them.
Morning arose once more, Amel entering a sort of routine with his training, while Femel simply wandered about. Om and the other constructs would appear as if nothing had happened. But Amel had given a bit of thought to it, and would start to try and decipher the new language through which Om impeded the flux of information. That would come later though, his progress with the metal animation getting better. By the time that day had passed, he could attribute the metal further functions. Walking, standing, turning. They were all good. The metal still lacked more advanced functions, like awareness, emotions, senses and so on, but was still an incredible advance towards a greater goal by Amel.
Night would fall once again, and before he could head for the bed, Amel noticed a staggering flux of information coming from Om. He didn’t need to understand the language, he knew what it meant, danger. Yet, Om wasn’t reacting at all, it was behaving as if nothing had occurred, seemingly not worried. Om was trying to play it off, or something similar, Amel could tell, and Om could read back what Amel deducted from him. So, in an unforeseen gesture, Om left the house and ran.
Amel couldn’t understand what’s happening, but he couldn’t let Om leave, it was their lifeline, and losing it could very well mean death. So, he ran after him, building new constructs from a bunch of wood, small stones and rope he had neatly packed by the door, in case anything may arise. He let go of the construct, making it thin yet nimble legs and four of them. The construct had the basic functions imprinted, so it dashed away. Following the trail of information left by the construct, he arrived where Om was at, and around it, all the other constructs he had made.
They were carrying the bodies of three people, of which one was just a child. Amel didn’t know what to think, Om acknowledging his arrival, but continuing nonetheless, prioritising his duty above all else. Amel would impose his will upon Om to stop, same for all the other constructs. They stopped, dropping all three bodies. Amel forced Om to offer him information, all of it that it retained, about what happened the past few days, including the day those men had come. Om wouldn’t respect his will, opposing with everything it had. Amel grew mad and impatient, he didn’t have the cold logic, he had the impatience of a child.
“What is that you hide, Om?!” Amel finally snapped aloud, even though the construct couldn’t hear him. “Why are you doing this to other people?! Have they tried to rob us, steal our life?!”. Amel transferred his words at the same time through the light so Om could finally understand his anger. Seeing as Om would still not budge, and given the limited ability of the other constructs to retain information, Amel felt like he had no other choice, but to force it out by absorbing Om’s light he infused into him. However, the past few days Om had developed beyond any expectations. Whether it was because those were the runes wrote by Mou himself, or that Amel’s ability manifested greater through the access of runes, didn’t matter, as Om had managed to self impose a destructive mechanism. If Amel were to ever try to force the information out of it, Om would let go of the light. This was the complete control and sentience the runes infused by the light of Amel had gotten.
So, when Amel approached his hand to Om, he felt the warmth of his light fade away, as the runes would once again rearrange their writing into their old pattern. Amel stood stunned by this, he didn’t know how to react. And before he could attempt sending any information back into Om or try to reach with his light, Om simply started to walk away. Amel felt betrayed, as if some reliable partner of his left him by himself. He didn’t give up, he ran after Om, who was walking at the perfect pace before leaving the city. Touched his runes and tried to infuse his light, reshape the runes as they once were. But even when successful, the runes would disperse his light. A foolproof mechanism. The only way Amel could hope to regain Om back, was by scratching all the memories and feelings prior to meeting him and allowing him to gather a new sentience. However, that was impossible, the past few days spent with Om, they were all still too fresh for Amel to simply cast away, and given that he was thinking of Om like a pet of sorts, those feelings remained strong.
Amel was blocked in his thoughts, standing in the road leading back to the city and west towards Kinlakes. He grabbed at his hair, confused by the world he lived into. His parents lost, his creations turned against him, people killing and stealing. Was there any hope for him? Was there anything he could do? He didn’t know, he was lost once again in such a short period of time.
1 month later
Two weeks after Amouldes had suffered great casualties from an unexpected force, Mou returned to the capital city. The few thousand people remaining, few hundred he brought into Opeldes and another few dozen he gathered from the road, heading for Kinlakes, all learned about the state of the country as a whole. Besides Opeldes, where the First Six courageously protected the city and confronted the Apostle, Umshaow, the rest of the country suffered the same fate as Amouldes. The king of Mouner is believed to be responsible, as his armies have been spotted near the forests where Umshaow was residing.
With the crushing news that no kingdoms have been spared the tragedy, people lost faith that there is any chance of recovery, and were ready to fall into despair or even give up on their lives. However, upon a great speech done by Mou, the people of Kingdom Amouldes, found within themselves a new purpose: kill the Foolish King who dared bring such a calamity upon them. Mou basically suggested them to at least avenge those which have died and that which they have all lost. This was simply a temporary measure to ensure the kingdom will not completely be lost. Mou promised a high force of constructs to help maintain a food supply and aid those which need it. As for those which have killed and stole, even though the population of the kingdom had dwindled to a mere hundredth of it used to be, they were sentenced to be killed without a right for plea.
The revitalised Amouldes would bear the scars of that day for the rest of history, however, for the following years, it would see a period of recovery and advances in some places.
The news travelled slowly, and Amel had left the farm a few days after Om returned to the city, going far south, towards Tainas. Only after another two weeks, would he learn of the king’s return.
“The king has returned, that’s good,” Amel told himself, walking inside of Tainas, which has suffered even more than Amouldes, since constructs were not present and efforts to rebuild would take greater effort. “Let’s see what we should eat today,” he whispered to a small construct at his chest, the size of his palm. This one had most of its body designed for the head, which had a ruby for eyes. It would take the light which bounced and reflected off of it and translate it into information for the rest of the body, which would then travel into Amel’s brain. It spotted a small piece of meat, someone snatched from the table of a customer at a butchery, he was quick of hands too, but not quick enough for Ech to not notice. “Should be good to get the day started,” his mind had adapted far more in the absence of Om.
With a small gesture, three constructs, having clothes between two sets of planks attached to a small wooden body, started to move high above the thief. By this time, Amel had learned to infuse his light into clothes and small, day-to-day objects. This proved useful for his thieving activities. Then, as the thief took a corner, and entered a lone alley, trying to take a bite from the half eaten piece of meat, the constructs dived in. Two distracted the man above his head, which made him keep the hand with the meat away, while the third came from behind and snatched it. There were more curses for that meat, than some would throw if a friend or relative had died.
“Good job, go back up. We’re getting started,” the three years old boy, a fully developed thief.
3 weeks ago
“Why… why… why?!” the young genius, at a confused moment in his path. “Was it because of my memories? Or my feelings? Which made Om become that? And which made him leave me?!” seemingly more worried about being left alone, Amel falls into the dark side of his human nature.
He would join Femel after some time in bed, to sleep. Even though his constructs betrayed him, he still used them, after reinfusing them with light, to cleanse them of any self constructed thoughts and feelings. They were still essential to at least be aware of the dangers lurking at night. Deep inside his dreams, Om would turn his back on him time and time again. The bond which he attached to Om was a deep one, for all he had lost in just a few days, and when he lost it, he was finally struck by all that had happened in waves.
The following morning, he wouldn’t wake from his bed, depression setting in. Femel would wander around the house, some construct here and there ensuring he wasn’t venturing outside the house or getting into some trouble. That would prove difficult, as the little infant could easily break any of them. Femel could find his way below the latch, where he would feast at his leisure, then spend the rest of his time chasing the constructs, to finally fall asleep wherever he wanted to.
Amel, still deep in thought and sorrow, wouldn’t move from the bed. By the time night hit again, Femel made his way back into bed, sleeping on top of Amel. Amel cried each time he felt his brother’s warmth, reminding him that he was all he had. The following day, the same repeated. That was, until another human entered the farm. It was a tall, frightening old man. Amel felt a bit of panic at the thought of it, but then gave up on it. He just wanted it to end, let it all go for once. The constructs tried to distract his attention and even impede him, but they would get brushed aside, then the man would advance inside the house. As if knowing where to look for, he found the latch and climbed down, started to feast upon the food as one of the constructs watched him and delivered the information back to Amel.
Amel still didn’t heed the man's mind, but Femel heard the noise and grew scared. Something about the old man, was striking fear inside Femel which not even the prior looters couldn’t. He let out a small cry, tugging at Amel to do something about it. The tall old man glanced back in an instant. The construct sent what was seen back to Amel, who was still not moving. The old man, in an almost animal-like manner, pounced on the construct and destroyed it. Once contact was lost and the noise below reached up, Amel finally snapped out of it.
He realised what he let inside his house, even though there wasn’t much he could do. Other constructs started to show up, telling Amel what was currently happening, and to his terror, the tall old man was making his way up. Amel peaked from inside the room towards the stairs. He saw them, the long nails and skinny fingers, grabbing at whatever they could catch as if he was some kind of predator, blood below the nails. Then, slowly, the old man poke his head into the hallway where the master bedroom, an empty room and one made for Femel were. They were in the last one at the far right from the stairs.
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The old man crawled in all four and made his way to the left, the empty room. Opened the door slowly and jumped inside. Amel was terrified, but compared to the monster, the old man was not enough to make him cower in fear. No, he was thinking of ways to get out of the house before he could find them. He first assured that Femel wouldn’t make a noise, letting one of the smaller constructs through the crack of the door. Upon letting the construct in, he heard the old man running around the empty room like a wild animal. Then, he gave information to the outside constructs, to bring the shears at the entrance of the house.
The old man had finally done rummaging through the empty room, and much like how he climbed the stairs, slowly and attentively left the room and entered the one next to the master bedroom, ravaging everything inside. Amel knew there was more stuff, so this might buy them a bit of time. Then, he commanded all the constructs, almost a dozen being present, all prepared to launch at the old man once he left to room, to allow for Amel to make a run for it and get the old man outside his house. Amel steeled his heart, preparing himself for what he was about to do.
“He’s an intruder,” he told himself, “he knew what to expect,” he assured himself. “Trying to steal, trying to kill, those are irredeemable,” he imposed his will upon the body. “I must stop him,” his concentration rose, and with it, the light inside of him had awoken. His mind was filled once more with light, enhancing it. The time moved slower and slower. His thoughts were flooding in, coursing through and then disappearing. The absolute state of control over his mind, in which only the thoughts he wanted, he needed, showed. “Door, floor, constructs, shears,” his mind was engraving the imposed instructions. When need came to be, it will be read to take action.
And, as the dirty, bloody, skinny fingers with long nails slowly opened the door, the flow of information from all the constructs coming all at once, was clear to him. Separating and giving orders to each of them in the span of a fraction of the second and reaching them in less, gave them impeccable manoeuvrability. The old man could be heard crashing on his back. Amel started to run, opened his door and took a glance to his left. As his mind could process everything at impossible speeds, he saw him. Naked, wild and insane. Human nature, at its worst, was presented before him. Is that what he must become? In order to survive, must he descend into an animal? Those were the only redundant questions in the moment his mind allowed him to have. Then, he kept going down, one after another, the constructs thrown outside Femel’s room, and the rabbid steps of the old man could be heard across the wooden floor. Amel was at the bottom of the stairs, took a look behind and saw the old man. He was on all fours, ready to leap at his neck, he could tell, his teeth rotted and ready to fall, his eyes bloodshot and his hair greasy, dirty.
Amel didn’t stop running, heading for the entrance. The old man’s eyes could see the shears at the doorstep, so he leaped from up there, down for the kid’s neck. Amel grabbed the shears, and, at the same time, the old man landed on his body as Amel turned around. He didn’t hesitate, the old man tried to bite directly at his face, but Amel held the shear between, and, when the old man backed his face away, Amel let go of the shear, which started to grab onto the man’s flesh and cut into it. The old man tried to pull it away, throw it to the ground, but it would cut to the bone, and when he would try to pull, it would hold firm to whatever part it clutched. When he let go of the shears, they would then grab onto a different part. The old man started to tumble around the floor, trying to escape the crawling shears and their grasp. But it would be in vain. Amel stood there and watched as the old man struggled for his life, in his insanity, in his primal state. He couldn’t blame him for what he became, the monster haunted him and the suffering he had endured would’ve broken him, if not for his brother.
After a while, the shears finally made it to his neck, cutting at it until he moved no more. Once the deed was done, Amel retracted his light from the shears, standing where he was pinned at. He looked at the dead body, then at his hand. “I guess I could’ve been like that,” he told himself. He jumped back to his feet, the constructs up above making their way down and dragging the body outside. Amel simply returned up and saw Femel crawling on the floor outside the bedroom. “Come brother, we need to sleep, we’ll have a long way to travel tomorrow,” he took him, seated him in his bed as if nothing happened, and lept tight. The will of the young soul, changed by this encounter.
The following day, Amel started by arming himself with a proper weapon, a hunter’s knife his father had kept around. He didn’t know how to use one, but with practice, he was sure he could make use of it. Then, he made more constructs, disassembling some of the old ones, so it wouldn’t overload his mind with pointless information. He made a couple large ones, twice his size, from wood and stones he could find around. The constructs built him some sort of sleight, on which they would pull and him and Femel could ride for the long road. He washed the shears of blood, and added them to the other things. He packed as much food as the constructs could carry with both of them on top.
He looked at the house, the farm and the distant city. He didn’t like the idea of travelling, not with Femel, yet there was no other option for him, not there, not where he lost so much already. So, he took a good last glance, let Femel see his heritage, and took off. He was sure the road would be filled with danger, but had a feeling not too many people would approach him as long as he had the constructs around. And even if they did, it wouldn’t be hard for him to perform the same he did with the shears on the old man. While the light hasn’t vanished from his mind, it maintained at a more manageable pace. As long as he could rest for a couple of hours between the travelling time, he could do well. It was important, as he couldn’t allow himself to be weak, not when the dangers of the roads were present at every turn.
3 weeks later
“A bag of food, and some nuts, that’s good,” Amel was counting the spoils of a day full of thievery, a life which he hasn’t chosen, but was inflicted upon. “I hope Femele can eat nuts, he doesn’t seem to like much of anything, besides bread and meat,” he was hidden within the crowd of people. A seemingly beggar child, who was just minding his own business.
“Ey, kiddo, what do you have there?” a ruffian, something which Amel couldn’t suffer. They were everywhere, like a plague that suddenly descended the world. “Don’t walk away, c’mon, I just want to be friends,” he always gave them two chances. One because he had food to gather, and two because it attracts eyes. “He kid! Don’t you know to respo-” the man would find himself in pain all of a sudden. Something sharp and pointy punctured him all over the body. It was a thin, small piece of metal which he found from some old weapon along the way there. It was simple enough for him to infuse it with some basic function, and that was to poke and move. It was highly effective for this kind, and he could then just move on.
After he was satisfied, by the time it was noon, Amel went outside the city and into a forest. There, deep inside, where four stones seemed collapsed on one another, there was a small hole, through which only him and Femel could fit. Femel was kept busy by a bunch of constructs, while he would run for food. In the last week however, he felt as if Femel grew more ‘sticky’ to him. He wouldn’t want to play with the constructs as much and would cry a lot, he gathered from the constructs. He knew it mustn’t be easy for him, that he has to spend a good time with the soulless beings he makes, but there wasn’t much he could do. If he didn’t go stealing food, then they would both die of hunger.
“I’m here, I’m here, calm down,” he talked like an adult, his mind still infused with light, taking less and less breaks as he grew adjusted. Not only that, but he also developed a fear, that if he let go of the light inside his mind, he might end up in a constant headache that may not go away. While he wasn’t sure if that was true or not, he wasn’t willing to try. If was falling sick because of some silly mistake like that, his brother would die with him. “Here, I brought some nuts, wanna try these?” Femel spat them around, as expected.
After he fed his brother, Amel would go into the city, look for boards and such, to gather information on what was going around the world. It was during that day that he found out about the return of King Mou. While he would be happy to return to Amouldes, he was a thief. And he didn’t want to die because of it, as he heard that all thieves and murderers were punished by death no matter what. So his home city became a ground he wasn’t willing to step into.
What interested Amel, was the name of the monster, “Amshaow. The monster which killed our parents and did this,” in his heart, a hate which would change the course of the world’s history, was brewing. After he learned of the name of the Apostle, and who angered it, Amel set in stone his goals: Kill the Apostle and Foolish King. He probably wasn’t the only one wishing for the deaths of the two, but he was one of the few, maybe only one, capable of effectively killing Amshaow. “I trapped a small part of its body at that point,” he thought to himself, “so I need something which would stop even an Apostle from escaping. If stone and earth are needed for the smallest fraction of it to be entrapped, then it’s safe to imagine one of the most durable materials there are, should be used for its full body. And even then,” he looked around, wearing a cloak he stole from a kid upon arriving in the city, and a belt around his waist, too large for him, holding simple materials in case he may need a construct immediately. “Maybe something stronger than what’s known in this world may be needed,” passing by a man, and ‘carelessly’ hitting him, he stole his purse with coins. “Only copper, I need silver and gold,” he threw the purse. Money could be tracked, so there isn’t much worth in risking over some pocket change, which would only buy him what he already steals.
“I need more information. I don’t know anything about metals, beyond what our parents have taught me,” he saw a man bargaining for prices with a clothes vendor, he simply put his hand by his side, a small construct crawled out of his cloak and grabbed the purse with claw-like limbs made of wood, placed it under his. “Copper again, nothing good today either,” he spent a few more hours going around. He learned a bit more about the world through papers posted on boards and what people were talking around. He learned that his home city, was best known for the huge amounts of gold, silver and such, to a point that they were traded in exchange for simple goods, like cloth and food. Here in Tainas though, fish and various trades made up the economy. While Amouldes was relatively close and rich in those resources, it kept monopoly over its resources, not willing to casually spread them around. This made it hard for Amel who wasn’t willing to go back and still needed highly durable metals. Steel was on his list, but again, here it could hardly be found. And talk around was that in Amouldes, a new metal may have been found, as the six kingdoms have started to allocate vast resources towards war efforts. Amel thought that war was still a long way away, since the population dwindled to the most extreme, and even Mou wouldn’t be able to raise an army of constructs in just the estimated year by one of the other First Six. His intuition was good and would prove to be right, as the efforts to raise a high enough army would take far longer than a year.
“Time to head back, Femel must’ve grown bored and grumpy without me there,” he whispered to himself, garnering some looks, but few would dare ask what’s wrongs, since everything is wrong.
The following months, up until winter, things would proceed the same. Amel would keep on making a living out of stealing, while gathering different bits of information. News travelled really hard on this side, as they were the furthest from all other kingdoms, so he expected everything in delay. He would learn that Hran trained a new generation of strong warriors, thought to rival even the might Frostborn. While Amel had no idea how mighty the Frostborn are, if the renowned Hran the Mighty had to raise warrior to match with some other race, then they must’ve been powerful. In all of this, Amel looked for ways him and Femel could survive the winter. They wouldn’t be able to spend it inside the rocks, as the cold was starting early that year, and signs were there that a harsh winter would come for the already devastating year.
With those things in mind, Amel started to look for places inside the city where they could settle. It was a bit easier than he expected, as most houses were abandoned due to the population no longer being there. There were the dangers of wild people, those which had no sense of reason or humanity and were living inside these abandoned houses to perhaps kill and steal from kids like him and Femel. They were a threat for the city as a whole, yet due to how whole systems of government have fallen, there was hardly any structure or order to these cities. A lot of people have already migrated further east, into Kinlakes, Opeldes and Thranes. Be it for the food, higher population or security, those three kingdoms were better prepared for a harsh winter, than Amouldes would hope to be.
Amel gave it some thought on leaving Amouldes and going for one of the other kingdoms, however, the fact that this region was far richer in metals, gems and more, remained true even for a city like Tainas, even if it didn’t receive much of the profits Amouldes had, it was still a lot more than the other kingdoms were having.
With that in mind, all Amel was looking for was a small house where the two of them could reside for a winter, then move back into the forests. Inside the forests, while there were wild animals and such, Amel could at least scare them off with some of his constructs. Humans, unfortunately, could only be scared once or twice before they would gain courage against these weak constructions of his. Which is why he wanted greater access to metals and tools. The kind of constructs he could build wouldn’t be amazing by any means, but with enough practice, he was sure to build constructs to rival those of even Mou.
Inside the city, the cold streets were starting be more empty than usual. Amel would often find himself alone on some of them, even if they were pretty central. He hated it, a group of thieves or wild people could just show up, beat him or kill him and thus kill Femel. He had placed a few constructs around the city, made of rocks and wood, but they could only hope to do so much, especially against a larger group of seven-ten. His luck would come by eventually, and by the closer edges of the city, he found a nice small house. Made of wood and forgotten by time it would seem. He planted one of his constructs inside, to ensure no one comes by during the day or night, and returned to the stones, to prepare Femel for leave. The construct would report on a few short sightings, like people looking for the usual stuff, furniture, clothes and such, then they would move on.
The real issue Amel would confront, and he knew it, was once he moves in. An empty house is not attractive, but make a fire and make yourself a bed, and all of a sudden you’ll have a bunch of people wanting a piece of it. In spite of that, he had to try, otherwise both him and Femel would be at risk of freezing to death any day in the forest. Femel was actually doing better against the cold than Amel, which surprised him, as he couldn’t see the light, thus he assumed he might not have it as well.
After packing all the goods, from stolen furs and clothes, to blankets, different foods and bits of materials to work with, Amel took his leave with Femel from the rocks which served as home for the past few months. Amel grew a bit over the course of these few months, while Femel started a rapid growth spurt, almost walking on his own by that point, so Amel could just let him struggle a bit and he would walk assisted by some constructs he made in shape of heels for his tiny feet. Whenever he would stumble and such, the constructs would positions themselves to offer support.
And like that, for the first time Femel would enter the city of Tainas. Seemingly empty, and with only a few vendors giving ugly looks at whoever didn’t buy anything, they made their way in silence over the small house. There, some constructs gathered wood and such to make a fire. Amel never made one before, but was willing to attempt anything. He had to learn, and given that there wasn’t anyone to be trusted so he could learn from, he had to think about it and learn it on his own.
The night was approaching and the freezing temperatures with it. Amel still didn’t manage to light a fire, his limbs trembling terribly, and even Femel starting to get the shivers. While struggling to make the fire, one of the constructs raised the alarm, a tall, muscular and young man, covered in furs and thick leather, was heading straight for their house. Inside the house, the layout was simple. The entrance room, which led to two rooms to the left, separated by nothing but door frames, and to the right another small room at the right.
Amel took Femel and hid in the small room with all their stuff. If someone was going to sleep in here or take the place away from them, he would ensure they wouldn’t be out there, suffering from the cold, but rather inside and try their best to hold their own. His constructs were ready of course. He managed two of the larger ones inside, since no one was on the street, especially near the edge of the city.
Once the tall man was inside, he acted casually, as if entering his own house. “Maybe it’s his house,” Amel thought, holding Femel against his chest. Femel by that point learned when to be silent and when to be loud, it was a basic necessity in order to survive. And reading the atmosphere, he was silent as a rock. Amel was surprised by this the first time, thinking that maybe he will be as smart as him, but he didn’t know that Femel was simply acting on instinct, a very sharp one.
With a spark, then a smell of burnt, flickering in the dark room inside the chimney, there it was, fire. The tall man came in, and in mere moments, lit a fire. Amel would’ve loved nothing more than to leap out of there and gather around the fire. But he had to muster patience. He didn’t know this man, and given his stature and all, he was sure it would be a grave mistake to be made. When the man finally warmed his bones against the fire, he lifted himself up, in the light of the fire, Amel could see how truly tall this man was. His head hit the beam high up above, by his measurement, Amel could tell he was three fourths of Om.
“Damn it, they make these houses smaller I swear,” the man talked in a thick, deep voice, scratching his short, black hair and looking at the beam he hit. “Aghh, whatever, I’m too tired for this shit,” he then sat down, placed his furs for blankets at his back, and let his front be warmed by the fire. While it took a bit, the warmth of the fire finally reached the room they were in as well. Femel warmed before Amel, and they both stretched a bit, careful not to make a sound. He placed one of their blankets on top both of them, and fell asleep. This wasn’t the first time for them dealing with dangerous situations, and his constructs were nearby if anything. This was just them hiding in plain sight and making use of the resources, like Amel always does.
A sudden flow of information came over Amel, the constructs. They were all telling him to wake up. He did, his eyes opened wide and looking through the crack of the door of the closet. There, he could see the tall man waving his hand while sitting down at one of his constructs. It was one of the tall ones, yet short if put side by side with the man.
“Do you understand me?” the man asked, a genuinely curious question. The construct had no means to respond, simply sat there and respected the will of Amel to not act unless the stranger tries anything. “You might, but you don’t have a mouth. Did you builder not know how to build you one? You’re certainly not one of Mou’s,” the casual way he spoke of King Mou fascinated Amel. He wanted to hear more of him. He willed the construct to interact with him, make him spill information. “Oh, so you do understand me. Okay, sit down, c’mon,” the man invited the construct to sit next to him, the construct waited for Amel’s will, which Amel told to sit next to the man. “I see, I see, you’re communicating with him, aren’t you? It took you a time to react,” Amel appreciated his cunning. But wasn’t willing to divulge his position, not even if he was days apart.
‘Seems to be strong and intelligent, just like my parents,’ Amel drew one of the few comparisons he could, given his age. ‘I wonder if he has children. Has he lost them? If he's as strong as he looks, he could help me with Umshaow. No, that is for me and Femel to deal with,’ the inner monologue occurred in mere fractions of a second, his light imbued mind active as usual.
“Hmm, how do I meet your creator I wonder,” the man had a hint of sarcasm in his voice, Amel could tell. He was playing at something. ‘Could he-’ before Amel was able to finish his thought, the man turned his head around, looking Amel straight in the eyes. The construct didn’t waste a moment, and jumped the man, tried to twist his head and snap his neck the very next moment. Amel sent the signals at all the constructs nearby, and from the other two rooms and outside the house, constructs tackled the man tried to kill him. “Alright, that’s enough,” the man commanded. He then picked the one who he was talking with with one hand and held it by the supposed head. “Come out, even if you don’t care about them, it would be a shame to break them and leave you like this, wouldn’t it?”. Amel couldn’t read his light, it was flowing so smoothly, it would come down to the tiniest variations, which couldn’t be trusted.
He looked at Femel, still sleeping, and he thought that if one must day, then he will assume it. Even if it will be tough, as long as Femel has the constructs, he may be able to make it work somehow until he’s old enough to fight and care for himself. That didn’t mean he was going down without a fight. So, before stepping outside the closet, he searched inside of him. The light which flowed inside, he gained a good control of it by using it constantly over the past few months. So, he let it flow, infused his mind, and without realising, his body. It was the first time for him, so when he tried to open the door, he accidentally blew it open.
“Oh my,” the man said and let go of the construct. “A blood child, controlling, how many, fifteen of these things?” he looked around to count them, Amel watching him intently.
“Twenty five, and more to come if you don’t let that one go,” he threatened. The man smiled, thinking this must be some joke, but then he looked inside his eyes. There was no kid left in there, it mortified the man beyond belief, he looked at a man in the body of a little more than an infant. Recounting them, he could tell the kid wasn’t joking, there were twenty five, and by the sounds outside, more arrived.
“Alright, alright, but you tried to kill me first,” the man placed his hands up, the construction still attempting to kill him. “Can you cease?”.
“When someone threatens me, it’s up to them, not me,” the statement brought another, larger smile. This one faded faster and deeper once he realised that once more, the kid wasn’t joking, he could even feel it, the warmth emanated by these constructs, it was too natural, as if it was their own.
“Kid… what are you?” the man stood astonished. The meeting of two existences beyond reason in one room. The kid with power soon to rival that of the First Six, and the warrior who established a dynasty of kings and heroes.