Tiny fingers slid across the jagged, rough rocks that he sat upon. Dimly lit candles were spread throughout the room on top of rugged-made wooden furniture. The air around them was stale, with a mixture of meat cooked over a makeshift fire. The young boy looked up at the ceiling, where moss and roots made their home, curling up like frozen robes. He stuck his tongue out, waiting for drops of water to come through. But nothing came down, leaving the kid to bring his tongue in and look at the familiar figure in front. The frontman had rugged clothing, was dirtied, and was exposed to many elements in his life. Dark-colored with leather elbow and knee guards. White hair adorned his face, and a rough five o'clock shadow was barely seen through the fading light. The man turned, his lips curled upward, "You're awfully quiet, son. Something on your mind?"

The boy didn't respond; he just sat there with his legs crisscrossed. His mouth tried to breathe in the stale air the room carried. The slight breeze from below the door was occupied by echoing footsteps, some more faded than others. Dark eyes blinked in acknowledgment of his silence before slowly getting up. "Papa, why do we live underground?"

The man's face shifted, his eyes became downcast, and a soft exhale escaped his lips. "Son..." he started, trying to find the right words. His hand lay to rest on the bed frame. "We are hiding from monsters."

"Monsters?"

"Monsters." The father turned fully to his son, "Our ancestors started hiding here because of them. Monsters that take our loved ones, children like you." His eyes showed hints of a sorrowful twinkle. "Like your mother." A pause. He needed to be strong. "Only to never be seen again. We call them the Pencari." He slowly approached the fire with the cooked meat. He adjusted the food's position with a wooden spoon to find any raw patches. "Tall monsters that look like us, but with pointed ears...red eyes, bore white masks with demonic sigils." His mind returned to a dark place, surrounded by figures with dark cloaks and beaked masks that bore no bright colors. Gloves that reached out toward screaming figures trying to flee. One of the figures was more detailed, with shining eyes turning white and long black hair disheveled, trying to get off its grip.

"Why do they wear masks?"

His son's voice pulled him back. Blinking a couple of times, he lifted his face. His boy, unphased, didn't understand. He was too young when she was taken. Barely knew how to speak since that tragic moment, didn't have the comprehension of the horror that took place.

"I don't know." The man saw the meat was done and picked it up with bronze tongs. Steam emitted from the whole thing, floating toward the man, who winced. "Papa, why can't we kick their butts? Like Peter?"

"Peter?"

"Peter Pan!" The boy raised a fist, a huge smile spreading across his chubby cheeks.

The man chuckled and looked over at the wardrobe that held books, some dirtier than others. "Reading the books we found while scavenging?" He cut the meat in half. "If only, my boy." He wiped his eyes. They are magical beings, while we...are not."

The boy raised an eyebrow, leaning forward, before noticing his father setting up the plates—two slabs of meat for each. "Now eat, River," the father said, setting the plate down with a wooden fork beside it. River slumped his shoulders. "Beef again?" he whined.

"No complaining." The father sat down adjacent to him. It was silent between them; the crackling of the fire and wind kept them company. "Want to hear about Coria?"

River tilted his head, "What's that?"

"A hidden city, a place where humans live above ground....safe from the monsters that surround them."

"Really?" River's eyes beamed. "Can we go there?"

"Well, there's a reason it's a 'hidden' city." The father smiled, "Weapons that are so powerful they would make every man in the world cry joyfully. A place where no one goes hungry, where everyone has a home, where family members surround us with smiles." He put a hand on River's head. "And the only way to find it is with a key." He closed his eyes, and images of that key went through his head. A necklace with a ruby stone, enveloped in emerald swirls as if it was a tree root. Inside that ruby was an intricate symbol of a large mounted bell with a crack that crawled upward. "A necklace that fits like a key will guide the desperate to their protective walls."

River peered at his food, nudging it with a fork. "I want to see Coria."

"I do, too." The father continued to eat as River eventually munched on his. The boy noticed movement from the corner of his eyes. His body lurched back to see a small tail going underneath the door. The father twitched, "What's wrong?"

"I saw something!" River dropped his plate and went to the door, eyes peeking down. "Did you see it?" He was on his knees as his father got up. "What was it?"

"Describe it to me."

"Tiny! Black?....had a tail?" River shrugged. His father's eyes narrowed. "A rat." A sigh, "I will set up some traps. Now finish your dinner."

"Aw, but I want to know about Coria!"

"You will later. Now go eat up. I'll be right back." He opened the door as his son got up. Before he stepped out, his heart stopped. It was as if he needed to say something. "If I am not back before you go to bed, goodnight, and I love you."

River pouted, "Uh-huh."

"Son..."

"Love you too, Papa..." He shifted back near the fireplace, where he left his food. He didn't turn back to hear the door close. With hesitation, he chewed on the rough meat. Auburn eyes stared at the fireplace, trying to find anything special within its heat and pale colors. Then he felt a drop on his head. He jolted before peering above him. Nothing happened. Pushing the plate off his lap, he jumped up and stuck his tongue out. A drop on his forehead. Shaking his head, he adjusted his position. Satisfied, he tried again. But this time, he felt it on his neck. He stomped his foot on the ground. "Come on! Land on my tongue!" He shouted, sticking out his tongue again. Another drop on his nose. His face scrunched up, "I said land on my tongue!"

That was when a slam pierced through the air. He whipped his head toward the door. Then, a sickening crack. River kept his eyes on the door, waiting for it to open. It didn't. "Papa?" He called out, but nobody answered. He walked toward the door and entered the hallway, lit by wall sconces. The candles from them flickered and provided faint light all across the narrow yet vast pathway. He then noticed someone lying against the wall, just a shadow, far from where he stood. "Papa?" He called out, inching forward. "Are you sleeping?" He asked as he got closer to the figure. At a certain distance, he could see it was not his father but a stranger—a familiar stranger who talked to his papa often. The man's mouth was as wide as it could be, blood seeping through, with his eyes lacking color. His chest was very dark, with soft tubes coming out of it. "Are you hurt?" River asked, "I can get Papa to help you." He waited for an answer, but it never came. "Hello?" Tiny hands pushed the man. The body ended up falling from the force. River stepped back, "Papa?" He whimpered, "Papa?"

The boy ran through each room, trying to find the familiar face. "Papa!" He screamed. The silence was soon lost, to be met by a multitude of blood-curdling wails. On one of the walls, he noticed a very tall figure holding onto another beneath the head. The held figure squirmed in its grip before the head fell off the body. The tall figure then turned, revealing bright red eyes. River's eyes widened, remembering what his father said about the 'monsters' from above.

"River!" His father cried, his arm wrapped around the boy. "We need to run!" He dragged the boy away from the scene. "Papa-! They-!" There was no response as they ran through the hallway. The wall sconces waved left and right as they dashed past. The noises behind them faded to be replaced by a horde of footsteps. "Don't look back!" His father demanded as they continued to run. The grip of River's arm was tight, threatening to cut off the blood veins. The boy could turn his head back to see what was chasing them.

Tall figures that barely brushed the ceiling, dark clothing, and masks with black lines.

The ones his father had described.

At that moment, it became a blur. His father's words became muffled as they tried to outrun the beasts. Soon, they got inside a tiny room, with his father bodyslamming the door with his shoulder. In front of them were stairs made out of stone, letting out a beam of dull light. The man tried to lock the door as he leaned against it. "Go upstairs! And run forward until you see a body of water! Wait for me there!"

"But Papa-!"

"Go!" He yelled, his eyes glaring at the door. River backed off, tears threatening to come down his eyes. "You better come find me!" He ran up the cold steps, his bare feet going from hard rock to wet dirt patches. The feeling was so unfamiliar to him that he kept jumping up, his arms up as he stared at the bizarre ground with green various-sized chunks. Water poured from the pasty skies, beating on the tall towers of brown and green. The whole area was perplexing for him. Then he remembered his father's words: run forward. He tried to ignore the wet dirt crawling between his toes as he ran forward. He ran past the towers he recognized as trees from the storybooks, jumping over boulders almost as tall as him, and varied drops almost entrapped him in the darkness below. His throat became scratchy, trying to prevent him from breathing through the cold, humid air very foreign to him. The rain went through his bleach-colored skin and clothing, trying to wrap him up like a sticky blanket. The boy tried to disregard the many things he felt and the goosebumps forming on his legs.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

He soon found the body of water his father had described; the wind's whispers, blocked by trees, made their presence known. The gentle waves of the water crashed onto the rocky shoreline with the rain pounding like a child's drum. River coughed, gasping for air as his hand gently held onto his throat. Where was he supposed to go? Where to hide? Will his father find him if he hides? That was when he heard shuffling behind him. His heart tried to jump into his throat, fearing it was an evil stranger. He found the nearest brush that could hide him and jumped in. Curling into a ball, it was a mediocre shelter from the rain. His warmth was the only welcoming thing with him. Then his body shook, and tears coated his cheeks and the contour of his smooth jaws. His arms cloaked his skinny legs as his chin made a pillow out of his knees.

Through a tiny hole, he noticed something walking up to the lake. It was an animal he had never seen before! He knew it was a deer by its shape and defining features...but it didn't have the standard colors of one. It almost blended with the lake if not for the white designs that shrouded it, mimicking swirls that went for its tail. Its antlers were pure white, like the hottest fire from the cooking fire. Small balls of light made a home on each end as the deer grew closer to the lake. Its beady eyes were on the ground as if searching for something.

It soon followed onto River's hiding place, eyes seemingly locked on each other. River covered his mouth; A whimper almost escaped from him. "Child, you're safe there."

River widened his eyes and looked around him. Where did it come from? Who was it? Did the monsters find him? Can they even speak? But it was just him and the deer...

"Wait for your name to be called." The same voice urged, "And then it will be time to reveal oneself." The deer, seemingly staring at him, pivoted and quickly ran off. River waited for hours before finding it safe to uncover his mouth. Only the rain and the lake were the ones with him. His eyes drooped, and exhaustion consumed him in a safer place in his mind. He would wait for his father, wait until someone found him. Wait for the monsters to leave.

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How long had it been? His body shook in response, his body shivering violently. A sneeze came through his mouth. It was enough to wake him up. The rain had stopped, but the area around him turned dark. There were no lights around him. He tried to move, but his legs gave out; the lack of blood flow caused him to stumble and fall forward. The birds above the trees cawed and flew off, causing River to yelp. He scrambled to get up, searching for a familiar face. But no one was there. He sniffled but wiped his eyes, and the world around him soon became lighter. His eyes adjusted to the scene in front of him. He rarely saw the bushes, the trees, and the lake, which reflected the moon. He then noticed stars; it was the brightest thing he could see. Some were separate, while others were so close, creating a purple hue stretching across the endless black skies. He was in awe for a moment, forgetting about the horrors in his home.

"River?"

A shout. River's attention was grabbed.

"River? Where are you?" A different voice shouted. That was when a faint glow came from afar. The boy didn't recognize the voices, but they knew his name. They must be his father's friends! His face beamed before running toward the faint glow. Closer and closer, the light came from a group of humans, each carrying a wooden torch. River's presence caused some to jump and some to take out their swords and bows. The boy stopped, eyes widening at the unexpected reception.

"River?" One of them recognized him. My god, River!" One of the women, whose face was bruised, went to him to see him wet and cold. The ones who unsheathed their weapons saw no threat and put them away. "Someone get him a blanket!" another person called as River was focused on something else. "Where's Papa?"

The faces grew dim. "Papa?" River called.

"Papa said he was coming. He promised!"

"Your dad..." The woman held onto his shoulders, slightly hiccuped. "Your dad... "She repeated. "I'm so sorry."

River didn't understand at first; the air around him grew thick even when a blanket was handed to him. The woman tightened her grip. "The...Pencari got him. We have to leave and find new shelter."

The boy froze in place as if time had stopped. The faces became obscure until his mind fully wrapped up what was said. "No..."

"We have to go."

"No!" He shouted, "He promised!"

They said nothing.

"He promised!"

He tried to run back, but the men grabbed him by the arms. "Let me go!"

"We have to go! He gave us time--!"

"He promised!" He screamed.

"Stop screaming! Do you want the Pencari to find us?" One of them growled, but the boy tried to ignore it. They were lying! He was coming! He said...He said...

The boy then sobbed, losing his will to fight, and slumped on the ground. The ones that held him loosened their fingers on him, allowing him to mourn. But they had to leave. "Papa...." The child grieved, "Papa."

He didn't stop sobbing, even when he found the strength to walk alongside the survivors, even when they walked through the darkness to be watched by the same blue deer whose eyes did not leave them.

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Forty years had passed since the attack on their settlement. It had been a painful part of their life for many centuries. Finding shelter until the Pencari finds them, and they try to find another place to call home. They were like wandering cockroaches that refused to die within the monster's grasp. While ruined cities up above were painful reminders of the life they had lost, they were forced to try to find happiness within dark, damp caves that only gave so much sunlight.

They were lucky on that attack that such a cave led to a massive area with beams of sunlight in various regions. Within that cave, they rebuilt and tried to form a society. But all of it had to be led by a leader who would ensure they could survive during these horrific times and let them keep their new home. River rose to the challenge against the other men and women who believed they were the right fit. But with the right determination and strength, he showed them he was the leader they needed. As he grew up, many people saw how he looked more like his father as the days passed.

River, however, could not forget his father's story about Coria. A hidden sanctuary and a necklace was the only way to open the gates. The cave was soon occupied by various stone and wooden buildings that reached inaccessible grounds. The silent whispers of winds and howls of the knight were replaced by human dialogue and animal stock cries. Tall poles held onto lanterns that kept streets made of paved rock lit. The hills that were home to cattle slowly stopped crying and went to retire for the night. The only noise River heard in his home was the hearth cooking dinner that night and the variety of papers he went through.

Wooden walls around him had more material than when he was a child. Cabinets filled with cooking tools and herbs from his garden at the back and a shelf of books he and his people found while scavenging underground and above ground. Some were older than the Gaian collapse and, surprisingly, were still readable despite their torn conditions. The fire crackled, trying to wrap itself around the pot filled with broth and many vegetables.

Then the door opened, and he didn't turn around, as he knew his son had walked in. "Ronan, you're late." He said.

"Sorry, I had to check on the injured people yesterday." The footsteps continued, and River's eyes stayed focused on the papers. "What're you reading, father?"

"Reports." He responded, "The soldiers had spotted strange activity as of late. A lone Pencari, they think."

Ronan's hand softly landed on the table. His jet-black-colored messy undercut hair complimented the man's five-o'clock shadow on his hollow cheeks and dark, narrow eyes. His crossbow was drawn closer to his side, barely brushing his stained white collared shirt. "A lone Pencari? Those bastards are usually together in groups."

"It's not just that," River frowned, "This creature bears no mask."

That caused his son's eyes to widen. "No mask? Are they sure this is even a Pencari and not just some tall, rogue of a man?"

"They said it was too tall to be a human; otherwise, the hooded cloak it wore gave them nothing else to describe it." He set the papers down. "My boy, I need you to set up a patrol for tomorrow. Go to the last known location and see if you can find anything. If what they said is true, the Pencari is too close to our home, and we need to push back."

"Of course," Ronan bumped his fist lightly to his chest. "But in the meanwhile, I am starvin'!" A huge grin was plastered on his face as he inched closer to the pot. "Vegetable stew this time?"

"Aye." River smiled, but soon, his mind went back to the past. His late wife stood beside his adult son. A woman with fair features and black hair held up onto a bun, stirring the pot with such gentleness that even a dead leaf wouldn't break. If only the birth of her son didn't require the price of her life...

He shook his head as he put the papers together, setting the pile aside. "Back to the subject, Ronan, I found something that might help." He went down to a tied-up sack next to his feet. When Ronan came with his bowl of stew, a set of shackles was on a table. But these were different from those of hard iron; they were white...with purple streaks around them. And dare one say that they looked like they glowed. "Shackles?"

"Not just shackles; these were lost to us long ago. They were tools used by our ancestors." He looked at them solemnly. He opened one, creating a strange sound—almost like a lockbox. "If I read the books correctly, this is used to capture the creatures that can use magic, depriving them of such power as long as they wear this."

Ronan blinked, sitting down. "You mean we can catch a Pencari with those?"

River nodded.

"We might have a fighting chance..." he bit into his food, "an actual chance to hit them where it hurts."

"Don't talk with your mouth full." River sighed, "But yes, this will give us a chance."

"Do we even know if this will work, though?"

"We have only one way to find out: by your patrol tomorrow. However, please be careful. Recklessness will only do more harm than good," River pleaded, watching his son lean back.

The silence between them lasted for a few seconds. "I will, father." Ronan replied, "Leave this to me."