The frantic crowd shoved a slow-running man. He fell and crashed to the floor. The people stepped on him, and he quickly curled up to cover himself. Dozens and dozens of legs trampled on him. A few even tripped by his presence. The oncoming civilians had changed their course to avoid the man. They veered to the sides, thus avoiding Ted further up.
Ted felt the feet lessening. However, the panicking feet of men and women would occasionally strike him. He can’t stay here forever. He needed to move. It was desperate, more than his body could understand its limits. The onslaught forced himself low. Any higher would effectuate a kick on his head. Even the blood sliding down his face would keep his eyes shut. His hands clawed, digging his nails into the brick bedding to flee. He breathed erratically, unable to keep his lungs moving from his bruising chest.
Before the strength in his fingers got any weaker, someone grabbed and tugged on his hand. A pair of small arms pulled Ted from the stampede. He couldn’t lift his frail and nauseous head to check who was tugging him. But he wasted no time. This was his opportunity, and his legs heeded his desperation. He thrusted his legs across the ground to assist in his own rescue with the help of an unknown person or kid.
A frightened person bumped against them two, causing the hands to fly away. Ted curled up again when he realized the person saving him got tossed back by the crowd. He kept his body wrapped up tight to avoid hits as best he could. Yet, he kept his arm out with his hand wide open, hoping for the person to grab him. Seconds later, they returned and pulled Ted again, sliding him to a place of safety. He heard the person grunt. They sounded like a child, a boy putting all his strength into saving Ted.
Pulling and pushing, hauling and heaving, the two worked together to escape while enduring the oncoming shoves and kicks. They entered the nearest Domain, away from the fleeing people. His savior shot open the door, stepping into a building devoid of anyone. The chairs were empty. Tables had unfinished food and random trinkets assorted about. Ted lay on the marble-tiled floor with exhaustion. Ted coughed, choking on blood. He could breathe now, the endless stomping of grown men and women coming to a stop.
The light shined brightly, casting a hint of whiteness beneath his concealed eyes. The coolness of the interior soothed his throbbing skin. A peppermint smell resonated deeper in the Domain, flowing out like a fragrance to his nose. His breathing calmed and his heart steadied. The adrenaline in his body was eminent, causing the pain in his body to be less agonizing than it should be. Ted couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened if the person didn’t save him.
Speaking of, he opened his eyes to see the child standing before him. He watched idly as Ted got his bearing. He brushed off the sweat and blood seeping into his eyes, replacing it with more blood smeared on his wrist. Ted grunted and grabbed his dirtied shirt to wipe off everything. Shaking his head, he glanced up to find a child panting and sweating. It was a boy shorter than him, maybe younger too. Bruises covered him, and debris smudged his body. Minor cuts formed along his arms and legs. When their eyes met, the boy smiled.
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Together, Impy and Ted ran up the shore and dived into the forest of Liria. Their eyes peered to any landmarks to escort themselves in the right direction.
But at the corner of his eyes, Ted sighted a tall shadow running behind a tree. A branch snapped from another side. He shot his gaze in that direction, watching a second shred of smoke dissipating behind another tree. His heart sank, his throat hitching. He continued running. Impy’s eyes were gaping wide. His teeth clenched. The two realized they were not alone. They were walking straight into the den of enemies.
“I–Impy,” Ted said, voice wavering. “What do we do?!”
Impy felt the tremble coming from his voice. The calm and nonchalant Ted shook, like the time they first met—maybe even worse. Impy had to think. His mind was losing composure, knowing eyes were on them. He raised his voice and said, “We just keep running!”
“But, Impy!” He got desperate. “They were waiting for us. They knew we were coming! If we keep going deeper–”
“I know! I know that…” He knew that much, too. They entered the forest, oblivious to the potential dangers—consumed by urgency. They believed all the men were with the children. But at this point, they were unsure of everything. Impy remained sure for the sake of Ted. “But we have to keep running! We can’t stop anymore!”
“No, we have to turn back,” Ted said. “We can still escape with our boat!”
“What?! Did you forget what these guys can do? We can’t!” Impy shouted. The shadows moved quickly, a couple seen tailing around them with their figures appearing eminently. His breathing quickened, feeling the gravity of this situation sinking in his heart. “We have to see them! Elea, Yanna, Witt, Renar, Sharlen–”
“It’s a trap! I–I… I’m going to turn back!” Ted said heavily, his voice louder than ever—his eyes shaking. Sweat seeped down his head, teeth gritting. Biting his skin, he began altering his course.
Impy grabbed Ted before he was out of reach and refused to let go. He pulled him into the same course. “You’re staying!” Ted’s will to escape dwindled as a result. There was still fear in him, but Impy’s interruption caused him to stay. They continued running with all their strengths.
“I said it’s a trap!” Ted shouted, giving in to the resistance while following Impy. “We can’t do this!”
“I know! I know it’s a trap.” He said with the same tension. “But Ted, we’re too late to run away! We already went into the forest without thinking they were waiting for us.” His eyes peered again to watch the looming figures run alongside them from afar. They weaved around trees and hid behind bushes. Whatever they did, the only thing they didn’t do was catch them. Their non-aggressive presence caused his body to tremble more. His voice grew hoarse. “We can’t turn back. Not anymore!”
Impy knew. He accepts that turning back would be like corning themselves. They were powerless against these men. Impy acknowledged it and kept marching, hoping to see his friends in safe conditions. It was his only hope. They couldn’t change their inevitable future.
There was a loud rustling. It quickly approached from the right. Impy and Ted turned to see a tall figure nearing them at dashing speeds. Running straight between trees, he extended his arms out to grab them.
“Watch out!” Impy shouted at Ted, shoving both of them away to the left. They ran behind a bulky tree and then another one, impeding the man from catching them. The retreating kids rendered his attempt unavailing. He grunted and resumed his looming pursuit.
Another man closed in swiftly from behind, outpacing the children. Impy and Ted arrived at a protruding root on the ground. They slid beneath and passed over. The man stopped his chase when facing the enormous chunk of wood, the hole too small for his size and the curvy root too tall to jump over. The man steered around and continued tracking the persistent kids. A couple transfigured into ominous balls of smoke, hollering into the air and over-passing the root. They crashed back down and reverted into their human bodies, landing on their legs and resuming their chase.
A third man came from the left. When Impy watched him inch nearer, he noticed the guy pointing a small dagger at them. Impy nudged Ted to warn him. They watched the man lift the weapon and fling it at them. The blade whipped through the air, the speed fast enough to penetrate skin and bones. Impy pushed his friend aside with force as he parted the other way. The dagger stabbed the bark and got wedged in deep. The man ignored his stuck weapon and continued following the kids, pulling out another dagger from his pocket.
Impy was alert, feeling the adrenaline keeping his legs alive and lungs in full throttle. His fatigue waned, feeling the urgency drowning him. But as the chase continued, he watched each of the men struggle to maneuver the densely populated forest. He gazed at Ted and said, “Keep using the trees! They can’t catch us if we keep dodging them!”
“I know, stupid!” Ted said with the same insistence. “I’m doing whatever you’re doing!”
Their breathing shortened, their eyes darting above the hill with a silver shade seeping through the clouds and rays gleaming on a lonely spot. Daphne’s gravestone appeared from afar, its face welcoming them back home. Impy yelled in joy. “We’re getting close!” They slid down the hill and defied the exhausting legs dragging their pace.
Ted didn’t know how long this could last. He knew they’d get caught, but the question was when. Upon turning around, he observed the three men joining and whispering. His eyes widened, his hair standing up by the growing unease. His stomach felt queasy. He faced Impy and said, “Hey, I don’t like this–”
“We’re right there!” Impy shouted, cutting Ted off and approaching the same hill Daphne was resting on.
Ted looked behind again. They all disappeared this time—completely gone. His heart skipped a beat as he shot his eyes back at him. “Impy! They’re gone. They might do something. Impy!”
“Shut up!” Impy said, feeling like his hope was elsewhere in this dire situation. “All we can do is to be with our friends to the very end! You can do that, right, Ted?” He shouted with his heart. “You said it, didn’t you? You trust leaders who are closer to humanity. Don’t you trust me? If the World abandons us, we are still together! I’ll still be with you all! We’ll find hope!”
“I,” he paused, feeling his throat hitch. He lowered his head. The words in him couldn’t escape. There was no drive for him to accept it. “I’m not with you.”
Impy grew silent. His eyes widened. “What?” As they climbed up the hill, he faced Ted beside him. “Why not? Didn’t I say that we can survive together, to not run away? I don’t want to run, not when hope is not with us! I’m their–”
Ted detected loud grazing on the side. He noticed a man emerging from behind trees and lunging toward them. His arms extended wide open to grab them. Impy was the closest. Ted shouted his name. “Impy!”
Impy shut his mouth and saw the guy closing in. His legs shifted away. He and Ted moved left and descended the steep hill to avoid him.
But as their route shifted, two men jumped out from the bushes before them. They waited patiently for their approach. Each of them targeted one child: Impy and Ted. Their hearts sank as the descent of the hill rendered their foot altercation difficult. Too much maneuvering would cause them to slip right into their grasp. Too little would give them no time. Even with just the right coordination, it was too late; they were within arm’s reach.
Ted felt his head lighten. There was that reeking smell of sinister aura invading his nose. It reminded him of the incident in Awt. The scent sparked his body, causing the muscles to seek avoidance of this aroma. A familiar feeling, the urge to flee. Something about it caused his eyes to draw on Impy, staring at him.
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At that moment, his mind wondered why he said that to Impy, why he didn’t acknowledge his saying. It was at the spur of the moment. He thought little to his words, feeling like the answer was always there. He didn’t think about how to speak because it was at the tip of his tongue. The answer was at his hand. Hope was there, the day when he crawled abandoned and got saved by Impy.
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Sounds of panic roared from outside. But with time, erupting noises dwindled, leaving the hollow winds to thrust against abandoned crevices, releasing empty whispers through the city. The quietness of the Domain caused Ted’s ears to hear his own blood pumping through his head. Amidst his disorganized state, he heard a soft voice from the child:
–You don’t look good… Want a hand?
The boy stretched out his hand at him. Ted watched the open palm with an invitation to grab it. He was silent, feeling like coughing more blood from his stuffy throat. His hand was reluctant. With a frail voice, he asked:
–Are you my enemy?
The boy tilted his head, humming confusingly before giving a light chuckle. He inched his hand closer, saying:
–What kind of question is that? Maybe your head got hurt too much. At least you can see my hand, right? Grab it! Let me help ya.
Ted pressed his lips. Away from the chaos, he reflected while observing the boy in this fragrant room. At that moment, he realized the absolute absurdity of the life of this child. Amidst his cuts and wounds, he still smiled. His legs remained firm on the ground. Ted couldn’t explain how this person could gleam when peace broke. And the very same gleam shined upon his. Raising his hand, he grabbed for him.
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He reached to grab Impy. Snatching his sleeve, Ted shoved him away from the man. He fell aside, tumbling hard and rolling down over the hill. A large dip pulled him down until he landed harshly a couple of meters below. A light patch of grass loosened the fall, only bruising his shin and waist. When he caught his bearing, he opened his eyes.
Impy grew stunned, his mouth gasping for air. He was at the resting spot everyone was waiting in, the nest for hope to arrive. And when he did, he saw his friends tied up together and sitting together like a bundle. Their eyes met his, and he met theirs. Alongside them, three other grown men peered back with their surprised looks—they, as well as one more person he never knew, would stand alongside them. A boy, similar in age, stood with crossed arms and a lowered head, giving Impy a narrow look. Impy widened his gaze. –Karo?
“Impy, run! If it’s anyone, it’s you. You’re our hope! If you get caught, all of us will lose–” Ted shouted at the top of his lungs and gagged painfully. Impy shot his head up the hill. He saw Ted at the man’s clutches, struggling to be set free from them. They kept silencing him, punching the child in the stomach. He coughed out forced air, groaning in pain. But in the last attempts, he released words that reached from the very core of his body. “RUN, IDIOT!”
The guy who failed to grab Impy clenched his teeth. Other men nearby targeted the boy, hands ready to seize him. Impy froze, feeling overwhelmed by everything that was unfolding before him. He whispered in terror, crumbling with all his friends strapped together in defeat. But their eyes narrowed at the sight of Impy, their little mouths opening.
“He’s right; Run!” Elea said, crying out from the group. Even though her arms and legs were tied, she swung her head and begged Impy to flee.
“Go! Hurry!” A boy from the group encouraged the same.
The children glared intensely at Impy. Yanna and the rest chanted words, some wavering with fear, but remained steadfast in shouting for Impy to escape. “RUN, IMPY!”
His throat felt suffocating as he quickly got up to his feet. The men approached quickly. Their speed gradually increased, their bodies slowly transforming into a sinister black smoke that concealed their gloomy eyes and hands. In this darkened mist, their speed became swift. But when they reached out their hands to grab Impy, he scurried behind the tree and dashed far north.
The men grumbled, cursing the obstacles and reforming back to their normal bodies. The man who captured Ted stayed; however, five men started tagging Impy. They dispersed, chasing after the lingering footsteps of the little one running with frantic breaths.
Impy ran and ran, tears welling up. He wiped them hastily, focusing on putting all his effort into running, escaping, and saving his life. If he couldn’t, everything would become worthless—Ted’s sacrifice would be in vain. He narrowed his eyes, refusing his turmoil to trample over him.
He noticed many rustles behind the trees. He glanced at two men to his right, two to his left, and one from behind. Impy looked around his surroundings, veering in directions where he recognized obvious landmarks easily traced. He coursed himself in the right direction, hoping the island of Liria would protect him, praying that this land would be his Domain by virtues of the heavens.
As he ran and ran, Impy realized the men were narrowing their vicinity, closing in on the child. They knew the child couldn’t outrun them, so they caged him slowly.
Impy reached a bulky tree inclining forward and jumped on it. Men looked up. Some jumped to follow. The rest ran beneath. Impy sprung on an arching root and hopped to the next tree. He grabbed a branch and swung to another tree. The men who followed him in the trees stopped, their bodies too big to follow anymore. Weaving through more trees blocked by dense-packed leaves, the ones below lost sight of him. Impy jumped down and dashed again. He escaped the enclosing circle and left them to reorient themselves. And the pursuit continued.
The men were distant, but they closed in swiftly. Impy played clever tricks with the men. He vanished around boulders he labeled as landmarks. As they followed around to catch up, Impy was gone. He climbed up the rock and ran to the other side, then turned back. The distance grew again. With trees and stones impairing the use of their mysterious ability to quicken their speed, the child had the upper hand.
Furious, the men pulled out their daggers and started swinging them at Impy. One blade flew right above his head, landing on a tree in front of him. He yelped and hugged the girthy trunks to avoid getting hit. Weaving through the maze of Liria while focusing on landmarks, he successfully dodged them.
They pulled another set of blades from their pockets and aimed them at him. Their speed lessened for focus. They threw them again, and Impy jumped onto a rock, landing on the other side. The blades clacked on the surface and rained down. Men withdrew many more daggers from their pockets, an infinite amount sourced from a tiny room in their pants.
One aligned his sight with his arm. Throwing his dagger, the weapon passed between trees—even at the thinnest margins. Impy sidestepped to avoid a tree, but that aligned him in its path. The blade slid against his side, under his ribs. It pierced through his shirt and slit an unknown amount of skin. He scrunched over, feeling numbness and a stinging sensation emanating from it. Impy grabbed his side as he kept running, his adrenaline refusing him to slow down. The blade fell to the ground. Running past a few more trees, he managed to retreat from all five men, giving him ample time to escape.
He left the densely packed forest and entered the field of sand. Winds welcomed him to the vast sea that expanded up north and east, the Horro Sea. The loose grains under his shoes lessened his sprint. Sweat prickled him as he turned to see if the men were following him. No one was there. His heart rushed faster, knowing he was in an open area—a space allowing those guys to chase him at uninterrupted and abnormal speeds. He wanted to use every second to his advantage, but it took him three long minutes to draw on three bonded boats near the water.
Impy grabbed the middle one and began untangling it. His hands fumbled and slipped as his rapid-beating heart caused his body to shake. “Come on… Come on…!” Words escaped him in desperation. Loosening one knot, he turned his head to check again. His heart sank when he noticed the five men emerging from the forest and landing on the sand. At last, he undid the boat’s anchorage and pushed it into the water with all his might.
As he pushed and pushed with wooden rollers beneath it aiding the movement, sending it down to the water, he turned to see the men transfiguring into mists. They approached him at an intense speed. Their legs blurred and body left a trail of smoke behind. Their eyes were narrow, never leaving the boy—giving an eerie feeling of horror and disturbance. They rapidly shortened the gap. What took him three minutes took them mere seconds.
“Come on! Please!” Impy enraged. Blood rushed to his head with all his might put to the relentless pushing. He felt the water submerging his ankle, but he needed to go a little more.
When the water reached up to his waist, he climbed on the boat and got the engine ready. As the motor rattled and the water behind began bubbling, the men already shortened the gap. Their figures returned to their physical bodies. Their feet touched the salt water. They splashed and ran up to the boat, trying to get on. Impy screamed in terror as their hands reached for him. One of them grabbed the edge of the platform, pulling himself in. Impy kicked the hand with all his power. His fingers uncurled as he growled in pain. A couple more lunged forward to hold on to the boat.
But the wooden board quickly took speed, and its acceleration quickened to the point the men couldn’t catch up. All of them cursed as they watched the child fall from their grasp. They got back on the sand and gazed far. Impy panted, feeling the fear shaking his being. He kept his eyes on them for minutes, hoping they wouldn’t turn into balls of smoke and haul into the air to chase him. It bewildered him—wondering why they stopped there and did not fly. Regardless, he never averted his gaze, feeling like he was still being pursued.
For a long while, until the island of Liria passed away from view, he finally sat comfy on the seats and caught his breath. When he faced north, he saw the land of Kartha nearing. Its sight was broader—much broader; a true land for dwelling.
Steering the motor to change his course to the nearest shore by extending his arm, there was a sharp sting wreaking on his side. He hissed, reaching to grab his shirt and pull it up. Impy looked down below the ribs. A large incision slashed through his skin five centimeters across.
The cut was deep, opening a large hole where blood seeped out and stained his shirt, drooling down and soaking his pants, and trickling to the floor.
“Oh, this is…” Impy tried calming his breathing. When touching the wound, an immediate scourge of pain rushed over his body. His adrenaline was slowly ceasing, leaving only a fatigued body on a lone boat with no equipment. He clenched his teeth, seething as he folded a part of his clothes to make a cushion and press it on the site. Impy groaned, agonized, with tears collecting in his eyes. He wheezed between his jaws. “I got to… hurry and find help…”
After long minutes of traveling, he landed on Kartha and crashed onto the shore. The motor continued running. The boat dived straight across the loose sand. Impy fell forward by the quick deceleration. He caught himself and got out once the large piece of wood became stationary.
With the lax shoreline dragging his wobbly feet, Impy made his way down the land to the body of trees. He kept the ball of cloth on his wound—already becoming red and moist in his blood. Sweat drizzled down as cold sickened his head.
Impy entered the forest, already finding paths made of dirt and strewed pebbles stretching over the land. Kartha’s presence in human life surpassed Liria’s in all aspects. He took the path and pushed onward. His sole desire was to locate someone or something that could help him. But the longer he walked, the slower he got.
His legs shook uncontrollably. The sight became unsteady and unbearable. Impy collapsed on the road, releasing his hold on his wound and causing the blood to run again. He breathed erratically, feeling like his panicking heart and lungs mocked his senseless body. They continued pumping and spending more blood to stay awake. His eyes grew heavier and his flesh frigid. Silently, he shut his eyes to find rest.
A soft rustle came from the side. Impy stayed still, refusing to look at or even recognize the incoming person. He knew resisting would not help anymore. Conceding to his defeat, he hoped that the oncoming footsteps would aid him.
A light prick jabbed his cheek. Impy grunted as he opened his eyes. He saw a little girl dressed in bright clothes poking him with something, an object he couldn't describe. When he thought she’d stop, she continued jabbing him in the same spot. He couldn’t move, but he mumbled. “Stop it… please…”
“You don’t look good,” the girl said, whispering softly. She studied him from head to toe, as well as a trail of blood stretching far into the shore. Humming, she pulled out a little sweet dessert from her pocket and presented it to him. “Want a cookie?”
More footsteps approached from the same direction. It prompted the girl to stand up and run at the incoming sound, shouting and calling the person over. But Impy’s exhaustion prevented him from hearing anything besides the concerning tone from the girl. Before he drifted off to sleep, he heard a man’s voice coming closer with a lingering scent following him. All Impy smelled were cookies.