Nameless

The last thing I remember before I blacked out was the face of my step-mother as she covered my mouth with a piece of duct tape. She then proceeded to slit both my wrists that she bound with those plastic handcuffs that are pretty difficult to escape from. I could see her standing there smiling at me, unperturbed as I was bleeding in my bed. The dull throbbing ache of the cut lulling me to close my eyes and welcome slumber, nay welcome death. I couldn't help the tears from falling, even if I wanted to. I couldn't.

I certainly have an idea why my step-mother had covered my murder with this suicide. They're running out of money and drowning in debts. If only she and my step-father lived a frugal life, didn't gamble or bought unnecessary luxuries, it wouldn't end up like this. I wouldn't end up like this.

To tell you frankly, these people aren't my family. They just happened to be legally attached to me through marriage. You see, my mother had me out of wedlock and to cover the shame, my rich grandparents have arranged a wedding for her to the most eligible young gentleman they could think of and who wouldn't mind getting married to their daughter who had a child with another man.

Don't get me wrong, my mother is a respectable woman. She just didn't have the courage to defy her parents and my biological father whom she loved most dearly, she found out later died from the hands of my grandfather's goons. They were going to elope but as you can see, that plan failed. Much like the plot of a cheesy soap opera, trust me, this is just the beginning.

My step-father was a good man or so it seemed. The bastard, to my grandfather's dismay was gambler, a womanizer and a bloody sadist. I was almost miscarried and mom was beaten to death when they came to visit one day. Well, sad to say instead of sympathizing with my mother, grandfather saw it as punishment for my mother's defiance of his will. Shortly after my birth mom became sickly and bedridden. My stepfather on the other hand, grew worse.

He squandered their savings, neglected our company and had mistresses left and right. Mom died when I was five years old. She died from neglect and loneliness. Apparently, my love for her only prolonged her life for only five years. She was already dead when she said her vows in the altar.

On my mother's death, my grandparents actually followed suit. The lawyer said that they were so aggrieved of their only daughter's death that they regretted it so much and died. To compensate with their lack of parenting skills, they gave me all their money as inheritance. Well, too late. Too fucking late. Their money couldn't bring back the dead.

I was left to my step-father's custody. He couldn’t touch my trust fund nor my inheritance so he went to look for someone he could bleed. Fortunately he found a rich widower who had three kids and became my personally hells with feet.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Fast forward to fifteen years and neither of my step-mother and step-father knew how to work or save money, we are now here, in my bedroom with me bleeding in my grey and fraying sheets. They thought they could have my inheritance when I'm dead. Well tough luck because in the event I died by whichever cause, all of my money will go straight to charity. The lawyer said my grandmother arranged that in secret. She probably knew something was gonna happen. Something did actually. I told you, it's a soap opera in the making. Sadly, it's not a sappy happy ending. It's an ending but it's not the end.

And so, that brings us to my last memory. The next thing I remember after that feeling was the sensation of falling. Remember that time when you're in deep sleep and you're suddenly jerked awake because you dreamt you were falling? That's what I felt, except on my part I was really falling and I'm pretty sure I'm not dreaming either.

I was falling from the sky, fast. The velocity of which prohibits me from looking down or around me. I can see the endless sky, clear and scintillating with stars and two moons and three suns. Well that's something you don't see every day. I stand corrected, I most probably be dreaming.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kamry

A prophecy was told to the god-kings of the great nations before.

A light darker than the night will fall at high noon. It will shine brighter than the suns and tears will rain down upon the people of Berumel. The true king will fall and the gods will descend.

A thousand years after the prophecy was spoken, such a day did not come. The prophecy became a myth and whispered only by a select few. My family is one of those privileged who still have the knowledge of that prophecy. A prophecy that would not come true in my lifetime.

Or so I thought.

As foretold, that midday was by far the brightest I have witnessed in my life. A black shining light cleared the cloudy skies and the rain that fell that day was as salty as tears. You can't imagine the panic that settled just moments after the remnants of the flash dispersed in the sky.

I was on the streets that day. On the usual route to the town square when it happened. Work ceased almost immediately as everyone lifted their gazes to the sky, merchants pitching their wares to the folks, the gleaming coaches of the rich and noble, the little urchins that scattered the streets, the citizens of Alver. Everyone from the poor to the rich, stopped. They all looked up, mesmerized by the falling light.

There I was, silently praying to the god-kings of old, to not let this be a sign of a calamity as the prophecy never foretold what comes with it, be it tidings of great joy or an omen of a terrible disaster.

TBC >

-end of Prologue