Jerome was filled with confusion and regret as he looked back on the violent outburst that had led him to beat up Hedon. He couldn't quite comprehend how he had let his emotions get the best of him.
He distinctly remembered picking up his spear, but never using it, and he couldn't recall how he had managed to restrain himself.
Hedon chokes continuously like his throat was crushed.
“He needs air,” Someone said as the Blanks gathered around him.
“Just let him sit up and breathe…just breathe, young master Hedon.”
Aware that he needed to distance himself from the situation before things spiraled out of control, Jerome took a deep breath and dove into the cool waters of the lake.
The sensation of the water embracing him was calming, and he swam to the bottom, where he sat down and closed his eyes. For a long time, he remained there, lost in thought, finding solace in the serenity of the underwater world.
The creatures that inhabited the lake seemed to avoid him like a plague as if they could sense his inner demon. Jerome welcomed their absence, grateful for the chance to be alone with his thoughts.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he surfaced, finding that the sun had set, and the shore was deserted.
In awe of his ability to hold his breath for over a fourth of the day, Jerome set about building a fire, grateful for the warmth it provided as he dried his clothes.
As he sharpened the blade of his spear, lost in thought, he was filled with a deep sense of regret for the way he had acted towards Hedon.
With his clothes now dry, Jerome stored his spear and whetstone, got dressed, and settled down to rest for the night. The events of the day weighed heavily on his mind as the night lulled him to sleep.
~~~
“Three, Three, wake up, Three, it's time to go for Mhen Agrh’ur,”
Three woke up groggily. ‘What’s going on?’ He rubbed his eyes with frail and skinny arms, ‘Who’s Three? My name is...what’s my name? Why can’t I remember my name?’
Three woke up and steadied himself. The day breezed past his eyes as he found himself sitting in a bustling square with many other kids his age. Every one of them, cycling to sense the essence.
‘I’ve been here before...with friends.’
He found himself next in front of a beautiful palace. He was welcomed in, bathed, fed, and taught self-defense.
Now he’s talking to a man wearing a beautiful and expensive robe with the image of a golden sun with an eye at its center designed on it.
‘Vorthe!’ he remembered, ‘Rihal brought me to Kilian’s palace. My name is Jerome. I remember now!’
Jerome was confused. Was he trapped in some kind of illusion? But it felt real, like a memory from long ago. But whose memory?
Three had grown up into a fine young martial artist in the Spirit Realm. He’s beginning to have anger issues getting into fights and destroying properties around the city.
But soon, something deep in the mountains starts calling to him. He followed the feeling and wandered deeper into the mountains than any other person had. He felt it in his bones that whatever was calling to him would make him more powerful...
Jerome woke up, sweating and panting heavily. He gazed up at the sky which was beginning to brighten with the first blush of dawn. His heart raced, pounding in his chest like a wild animal trying to break free.
He sat down for a long while trying to collect his scattered thoughts, confusion etched deeply into his face.
What the heck was that? he thought, have I lived more than one life and without knowing about it?
His ‘dream’ clearly showed that he had a life in Vorthe before. He grew up in the same orphanage, went to the same square, and was also taken in by a Vorthe.
No, these are not my memories. But whose memories are they? Whose life did I re-live?
Jerome didn’t have an answer. He got up to put out the dying flames of the campfire and set out.
~~~
Hum.
He’d been tracking a mysterious wave of energy for a few days now. It was like a beacon that called out to him from time to time. Jerome ran through the forest following that elusive hum of a signature. He quickly swerved left as something dived at him from his right.
Jerome scrutinized the creature that glided out of the bushes. In front of him was a Three-Horned Python. A constrictor, fairly large, but not enough to be a threat.
Jerome drew his spear as the python dove for him. It tried to wrap its body around him with quick reflexes, but Jerome slashed at it. It swerved that part of its body to the side still coming at Jerome.
The spear rotated with blinding speed, taking a chunk of scales and skin off the python.
“Hssss.”
Jerome shrugged. “You started it,” he said and attacked. Fast and hard. He had to resume his search quickly before someone else took his find.
The Three-Horned Python was a tough opponent to deal with, however, now it was attacking and backing up to get away. Prey that fought back was not worth it.
Jerome stabbed at its eye as he dodged a swipe from its tail. It increased its speed as well, attacking like a whip.
Jerome vaulted up into the trees and as expected, the Three-Horned Python scurried away into the foliage. A spear tore through the air with enormous force and speed, piercing through its skull and into the ground.
Jerome walked up to the Three-Horned Python, pulling out his spear and squatting down to inspect it. The python was really large; large enough to swallow someone twice his size.
“Fortunately, you haven’t tapped into your bloodline powers yet,” he muttered and packed the body into his storage bag.
“Hrm,” a sound came from a nearby bush.
Jerome quickly raised his spear to defend himself. He could sense someone there now.
“Come out,” he said. A twig snapped, and someone rushed out…and ran the other way…crying.
“Huh?” he stood there confused, why’d she run away?
He could understand that the Blanks were now afraid of him because of the fight with Hedon. Every one he had challenged since he arrived two seasons ago had been defeated in combat. Interesting that I’ve been here for two seasons: that’s roughly six months, he thought, almost proudly. But why run away?
Jerome looked around to judge his location so he could continue searching for the energy signature. He climbed a tree and sat down to meditate. He could no longer maintain his grip on his murderous impulses.
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Hum.
Jerome’s eyes snapped open. He quickly jumped off the tree and sped off northeast.
There! The humming was getting louder. Almost there! Jerome landed on a branch that gave way and he crashed into the den of a Giant Wild Boar. He quickly got up and scurried away.
However, a magical beast was on his tail now. The Giant Wild Boar was incensed, testosterone going wild, the Giant Wild Boar growled and chased after Jerome determined to destroy the pest who had disturbed its rest.
Jerome looked back only to see a seven-foot-tall mountain of a beast barreling through the forest after him. Now he was irritated. The boar might be big, but he didn’t feel pressured by it.
“Piss off!” he screamed, but his voice hadn’t broke yet making him sound like a child.
Jerome concentrated on the humming sound. He was close, he knew it. But I can’t stop to concentrate, damn it!
He pulled a branch from a tree he dived past and released. Thwack!
The Giant Wild Boar stumbled as the branch hit it in the face. Jerome pushed off another tree in the direction of the boar. He came in hot. Before the Giant Wild Boar steadied itself, a spear was buried inside its neck.
~~~
The humming was very loud now. Every other sound receded into the background of his mind. Jerome stood on a dust-colored boulder looking into a small hole by its side.
It's coming from inside there. He could sense no danger so he got down and put his hand into the hole. A stone?
The humming stopped. His mind cleared as the murderous impulses receded. He had never felt so clear-headed in a long while. His muscles ached now.
Sleep, he thought, sweet sleep.
The hairs on his skin rose, alerting him to the presence of another. Jerome sighed, combing his tousled hair with his fingers.
You have got to be kidding me, he thought. This presence was different. It could sense him too. A predator, and a powerful one at that.
He stored away his find getting ready to do battle. This might be the most dangerous magical beast he faced today.
His senses screamed at him again alerting him to a change in the creature. It seems this creature can sense my intentions. It was somewhere around, but where?
The wind seemed to calm and even the chirping of birds came to a halt. The tension in the air could seemingly be sliced with a knife. One breath...two breaths...three breaths. Jerome dashed out running left and the creature chased after him.
Fast! he thought, and it can climb too, are you kidding me?!
Jerome spared a glance at the creature and his heart nearly dropped to his stomach. Black eyes with a yellow deadly glint stared back at him. An Ice-Saber?
He quickly put on a burst of speed as he pushed himself more. This cat was not to be messed with.
The Ice-Saber was hot on his tail. It stretched its paws as it jumped off a tree branch to claw at Jerome’s head. Jerome quickly dropped to the floor of the forest. The Ice-Saber Cat was emitting a chilling aura already. It had already begun tapping into the power of its bloodline.
The cat rebounded off another tree to face Jerome, but he had taken off in another direction already. I’ve got to come up with a plan, he thought.
He looked around searching for something, anything. He felt frustrated and his emotions were in turmoil again. Something tore into the back of his neck, drawing blood. The Ice-Saber opened its massive jaws to crush Jerome’s skull. It quickly sensed an incoming threat as Jerome stabbed toward it with his spear.
The Ice-Saber dodged but didn’t let go of its prey. Jerome felt pain shoot up his spine as sharp claws dug into his skin and they fell sideways. Blood sprayed everywhere staining the grasses and trees.
Jerome saw red. He let go of his control on his emotions and went mad. With a strength that should surpass him, he reached behind him and crushed the Saber’s paw.
The saber roared in pain. Something about its prey had changed, and now it felt like the prey. A fist came at its jaw and crushed it. The saber lashed out but the human didn’t even dodge. Its other paw drew blood from Jerome’s chest, ruining his leather armor.
A prey that had no care for its life was deadly prey. The Saber backed up, trying to bolt, but Jerome stabbed at it again and again. With a damaged paw, it needed to heal before it could use its legs and a wounded beast was a dead beast in these lands.
Jerome rushed forward and smacked the already broken jaw of the Saber. It collapsed to the floor, breathing hard. He stabbed it through the heart as it whined like a cub.
~~~
These mountains had been wiped clean by generations of Blanks before him so there wasn’t much treasure lying around anymore. Apart from the opportunity to kill a few magic beasts and test our strengths against each other, the mountain range has nothing else to offer, Jerome thought.
Today, Jerome came face-to-face with another Blank. A girl who looked to be two years older than him. She had on her breastplate, the carved figure of a serpentine creature with sharp rows of fangs.
House Fei – House of the dragon fang.
He read once that they were sword artists who migrated from the Eastern continent, thousands of years ago, in search of greener pastures.
Her beautiful peach blossom eyes were unrelenting as she took a stance showing her readiness to fight him. Jerome stood sluggishly with the wind blowing his hair into his face. He hadn’t been grooming himself since his dreams began, and he’d had those dreams every night for two whole seasons. Each dream was a different life lived, many of which were full-blown nightmares, making every waking moment a time of horror and misery.
The girl drew her sword so fast it was hard for the eyes to follow. The sword cut through the air and missed Jerome by a few hairs width as he sidestepped. He danced from side to side as he dodged her slashes and stabs.
He tried to smack the sword out of her hand but with a flick of her wrist, the blade changed direction. He quickly withdrew his hand as he moved aside but extended the index and middle finger of his other hand as if to poke at her eyes. She took the bait and closed her eyes for a split second. That was enough time to disarm her and pin her to the floor. Jerome won. He got up in silence and walked away. The young lady he just defeated sat up in the sand breathing heavily.
“He didn’t even draw his weapon,” she muttered to herself, feeling truly defeated.
~~~
Jerome didn’t feel like a victor. He felt like he had aged centuries. The burden of keeping his emotions at bay was draining him mentally and he didn’t want to depend too much on the stone.
What mattered most was his will. As long as his will was strong enough, he’d overcome his situation.
He quickly took out his map to search for somewhere to meditate without disturbance. The only suitable place near him though was a cave inhabited by a creature more powerful than himself. One he wasn’t ready to fight yet, a Sunfire Wolf.
Jerome steeled himself in determination. If this was half a season ago he’d never have thought of going near such a place, but now he knew he was a lot stronger than the average Blank. Fighting and defeating the Ice-Saber had also helped see magical beasts for what they were. Although, they were intelligent, it didn’t mean they were as smart as humans. Human beings could come up with many tools and strategy, but the magical beast only had their strength and abilities.
The Sunfire Wolf was a magical beast that had already tapped into its bloodline powers and could use a small fraction of them. With a breath, it could roast a Blank like him into barbecue. Jerome started planning. It was faster and stronger than all the magic beasts he’d killed so far. And on top of that, it could breathe fire. It should take the coordinated attack of at least four Blanks to kill the creature, but there was only him.
He took out a bow and a quiver filled with arrows that he took off a dead Blank a while back. A while back? How long have I been here? Jerome thought to himself. Should be eight — maybe nine months now…two and a half seasons. He sighed. It couldn’t be helped. Vorthe was still advancing. Whoever came up with this archaic way of telling time did a really swell job. All they needed was more time — maybe a few decades.
He'd been practicing ever since then when he had the chance and had improved a great deal. With practiced ease, he strung the bow and nocked an arrow. Too thin. The arrow would snap before it could penetrate the Sunfire Wolf’s hide.
The Sunfire Wolf would sense him if he got too close, so he found a tree about a thousand paces away from the mouth of its cave. The tree was tall enough that he could see almost everything around him but also close enough to other trees that he could run away if things got out of hand.
He got down from the tree to begin his search for wood strong enough to carve out good, strong arrows. After filling his storage bag, he went back to the tree and started carving arrows with a small knife he brought with him. He worked throughout the evening into the night carving arrows as big as spears out of the wood in his storage bag. When he was done, he had over two hundred arrows. He let the night lull him to sleep high up in the tree.