The smell of blood.

That night, for the third time of the week, the strong winds from the bay spread its coppery stench all over the streets of Melhem. And for the third time, he watched.

From the top of his building of stone and metal, he needed to reflect on how the maze that had become his home had once again turned into a hunting ground: another infected, another child, another victim of the Tree.

The beast was on the loose, and by paying attention to the screams down below, anyone could tell how the creature's rampage was unfolding. They ceased. The feast was interrupted, the hunter became the prey.

From where he was spectating, the chase was safe, but a poor seat selection for those who sought to enjoy the performance. However, that wasn’t his type. Staring at the dancing shadows was more than enough. Even then, it wasn’t out of fear, what was there to be afraid of when the gods sent their agents?

Slithering faster than any man could run, the large shadow cast by the lights of Church Alley was tall enough to spread over 3 rowhouses. Four arms, and what looked like multiple tendrils sprouting from its back flailing behind as it was making its escape.

As the boy tried to figure out if the head was more snake-like than human, the beast stopped on a dime. A chilling howl echoed through the narrow streets of this forsaken place, a cry of distress … it was about to start.

“Doesn’t sound like a snake…” he uttered.

In an instant, the infected creature was cornered by two new shadows, their humanoid figures could be distinguished as the wind swayed their capes away. Lord Ethan’s Swans arrived on the scene, beings above the common man, those who don’t fear the beasts.

A third figure was standing on top of the building who gave this infamous street its name, immobile, it wasn’t a shadow. The temple’s light cast an eerie shine on this Swan’s white cloak, a hue that always captured the boy's heart.

The Maze was all he knew, he was molded then tainted by it, yet every time they came down here, they seemed as pristine as the last time.

Suddenly, the sounds of broken glass resounded as his eyes dropped back to the hunt. The large mass that was projected through a building, slithered out of the hole its body created, almost too fast for the young spectator to even perceive.

It finally started.

Like the puppet shows his sister used to make for her siblings, the walls of the surrounding houses served as screens, as their shadows took care of the play. While the serpentine creature’s movement seemed random and erratic, its hunters seemed like they were following a composed and graceful choreography.

Their swords looked like an extension of their arms as they waltzed and slashed around the beast. The sight was almost hypnotic, from afar, the ignorant would think these moves were easy to execute. A part of him still thought so, but after seeing them in action for many years, deep down, his young mind knew better.

It didn't take long for their prey to get lost in their lethal rhythm, every missed step became a missing limb. First a few tendrils, then an arm, then another. The boy wondered:

Do you still feel it when you turn?

That primal instinct that is the fear of death.

As one of its assaillants stepped back from the bloodbath, their victim, mistaking it for weakness plunged towards the legs of the dancer, it wasn't aiming for the kill anymore, but to slow them down and get away. But it was indeed a mistake.

There it comes…

In a flash, a splash of blood covered the shadow theatre, followed by a loud but pitiful final growl. A Sword Art, like the ones from the plain or the Emperor’s men. Something that the simple arm swing imitated by the shadows couldn’t explain, or maybe it's something that he just couldn’t even comprehend.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Like that, the hunt came to an end, the red curtains closed the show.

As the corpse started to convulse, the lighting of the alley turned violet, they started the purification. The Swans slightly bent toward the slayed body they set on fire, they were chanting their prayers. Their admirer watched them in silence, what was fascination a minute ago turned into dreadful apprehension.

The soul of another child makes its way back to the Tree, and just like two days ago, he used a sharp stone he picked up earlier to update today’s score.

“Three…”

To him, what used to happen around twice a week, had become a frequent occurrence since last month. Who was next?

He knew.

As they finished their prayers they left the dark, leaping through the air, jumping from one roof to another. They joined the Swan who was posted up the church’s ivory tower with relative ease, now they were all shining. Not a drop of red on them.

Father Lark brought him up once. Up there, he could see the Lord’s estate. Holding what seemed to be a bright stone, one of them briefly waved in that direction. Their mission was over.

That green light had a shade he could never forget. In fact, it's a shade that every citizen of New Gates recognized all too well, the outcasts of Melhem even more. As he turned his head towards the sea, it stood there, tall, far away yet so close, the Emerald Bay’s pride.

The Jade Thorn, large like a town, tall like a mountain, towering above the waves like it never belonged there.

From where he was, it looked like an oversized branch covered by some ever-glowing crystal crust. The young man was told it was some sort of resin, that the thorn was the Inverted Tree’s favored root. But he never cared about these stories. He hated it.

All he knew was: “It's the place where men are sent to disappear”—mining their lives away.

When kids his age asked him about his father, his get-away answer was always: “My mom said he stays in the mines”.

But as time passed, now lost in his thoughts, staring at the jade behemoth on the horizon, he wondered. What if it was true? What about this thing would be so amazing,

“-that you would rather stay over there than with your family?”

“I told you that I wanted you home once I came back Kal…” said an inquisitive feminine voice right over his shoulder.

Brutally interrupting his monologue, without thinking, the boy jumped off the small wooden crate he used as a scoreboard and theatre seat. As the woman swiftly avoided the rising shoulder that would have collided with her chin otherwise, she caught him by the collar stopping him in his course.

“You ain’t going nowhere! I told you to stop watching them, you know that’s not good for you…”

“I’m not running! Let go!” He continues “It’s just…the horns, when I heard them, I knew who they were hunting…”

As she looked down at his pulled-up and worn-down shirt, his words and the sight of the dark mark on his lower back echoed in her mind, reminding her of her younger brother's grim fate. She slowly released her grasp.

“It’s Meryl, the tailor’s son, he got marked last week I think…Guess they ran out of medicine...” Said the boy as he stared back at the purple flames.

“That's what he told you..? Kal…” her grief quickly turned into anxious anger “...but you didn’t talk about yours right? Kallen, I swear if you ever-”

“I would never! You know that … Plus, he never told me anything.”

“Who told you then? If you just heard about it somewhere, I don’t think you need to worry, you know how it is.”

The disheveled boy pulled down his shirt, carefully avoiding touching the dark omen on his backside.

“That was him… last time we met, I just knew he was like me. It‘s like it was burning…And I felt like he knew too, so I started to avoid him ...”

He then turned back to face her. “And he is not my friend. He does errands for Mors behind his father’s back… I don’t like snakes…”

As she realized that he spoke as if his friend was still around with teary eyes, she buried his head against her body and embraced him tightly. The boy was scared, she was too. But she needed to smile, for him, and for her –that night was their last together.

“Snakes? What about snakes? A month ago you told me you loved all animals?”

“Not anymore… I would never turn into this…. when I come back, I will be a Cloak. Just wait for me okay..?” Despite his trembling voice, the brave front held by her younger brother was enough to break down the mask she kept up until now, but it was okay. With his head facing her chest, she could let a tear or two drop down her face distorted by sorrow.

“We will be there Kal, we will always be waiting for you. Aren is coming to pick you up tomorrow, he just promised me he would take care of you himself. You trust me right?”

The siblings remained immobile, as if just as they wished, time stopped taking its course. They both felt like words weren’t needed anymore, they just wanted to be reminded that they cared for each other to wash the sadness away.

“…Speaking of Aren… Will he finally take us out of here? When I come back, I would rather it be in the city...”

The sadness on her face almost instantly disappeared as she slowly pushed him away.

“Aannnd you ruined it. You’re sooo lucky to have me, I ran all around the city for days to save your life and you think that’s the moment to tease me? You’re so ungrateful! And way too young to get it anyway.” But her annoyed expression slowly turned into a gentle smile as she realized how quickly her sibling had unknowingly restored the mask that was in pieces just moments ago.

“...If you feel better come down, your brother’s hungry and I know you are too.”

As he followed his sister towards the door, he took one last glance behind him, imprinting this view of Melhem by night in his memory, the thorn, the fire, the church. As he inspected the temple, Lord Ethan’s finest were already gone, as shadows of priests came to chant around the inferno.

Tomorrow was his birthday. While he wasn’t able to escape the curse, he still felt hopeful. He intended to spend his last day with his family, in peace, before he was taken away. Tomorrow he won’t be a snake, tomorrow he will be 13.

“Hey…were you crying just now?”

Chapter end