A carriage carrying a middle-aged couple and an unconscious boy journeyed towards the Free Isles, a confederation of independent states. The carriage rattled along the uneven road, the rhythmic clattering of hooves creating a false sense of security for the couple, Byron and Cathy. Unbeknownst to them, danger lurked ahead in the form of a group of bandits, hidden in the shadows of the surrounding woods.
As the carriage approached, the bandits emerged, blocking the path. Byron, sitting in the carriage, immediately sensed the threat. "Bandits!" he exclaimed, a sense of urgency in his voice.
Cathy, beside him, gripped her seat in fear. "Ohh, Goddess! What are we to do now?" she whispered, her eyes wide with terror.
Byron, attempting to stay calm, reassured her, "If we give them some gold, they will leave us alone." He reached for a small bag of gold coins, preparing to negotiate with the bandits.
Cathy, still in fear, covered the unconscious boy, Aron, with a drape, as if shielding him from the impending danger.
The leader of the bandits approached the carriage menacingly. Before he could utter a word, Byron swiftly threw a small bag of gold coins at him. The leader caught it, a smirk forming on his face. "Smart man!" he acknowledged.
Byron, seizing the opportunity, addressed the leader, "That is all we had. Now let us go."
However, another bandit, seizing an opportunity, approached from behind the carriage. He jumped in and uncovered the unconscious boy, drawing attention to him. "Ohh, What do we have here! Who is this?"
Cathy explained in panic, "That is our son, Aron. He is sick. Please don't hurt him."
The bandit leader inquired suspiciously, "What happened to his eye?"
Byron, thinking on his feet, replied, "He hurt himself with a sword. Please, we need to get him to a healer in the Free Isles. Let us go."
The bandit leader, skeptical but amused, laughed. However, his mood quickly shifted to anger. "Going to see a healer. So, you have more gold! Hahahaha. Trying to make a fool out of me, eh?" he accused.
Byron, realizing the mistake in his words, lowered his head in defeat. Cathy pleaded desperately, "Please, I beg of you, he needs a healer. Let us go. We don't have any more gold."
The bandit leader growled, "Still lying, I see. Grab this bitch! Tie her up to that tree. Let's teach them a lesson."
One of the bandits seized Cathy by her hair, dragging her away. Byron, in a desperate attempt to save his wife, screamed, "Noooooo...." only to be met with a powerful punch from another bandit. Cathy screamed as they tied her to a nearby tree.
Desperation etched on his face, Byron pulled out two more bags of gold, pleading, "This is all I had, I swear. Please don't harm her. Let her go. Please!"
The bandit leader, unmoved, kicked Byron in the chest and picked up the bags of gold coins. "Boys, you can have her and kill this one."
Byron, gasping for air, reached for the bandit leader's foot, tears streaming down his face. "Please don't do this. Please let her go. I gave you all the gold. Please!"
The Bandit leader unsheathed his sword and swung at Byron in anger, "You fucking......"
The very next moment, with a flesh-ripping sound, everything above the bandit leader's waist was gone. Blood, viscera, and gold coins flew everywhere and in the middle of everyone, Aron stood like a stone, covered in blood, with long red hair and red eyes.
One of the bandits screamed, "Boooosss!"
Everyone was puzzled by the bloody situation. Another bandit screamed, "Kill the bastard!" and threw a fireball at Aron.
Aron didn't even look at the bandit and caught the fireball. The bandit exclaimed in surprise, "What the fuck!"
The fireball started to grow big and changed color from orange to black. Aron threw the fireball back at the bandit, and upon impact, in an instant, the bandit's body turned to ash and created a small crater.
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The rest jumped to attack Aron. One of the bandits with a bow took aim at him. Aron suddenly disappeared from where he was standing and appeared in front of the bowman, punching his head off his body.
Seeing such violence, Cathy screamed in horror, and Byron's voice died. Aron kept ripping heads and punching holes in bodies until every bandit was dead. Then, without any expression, he looked at Cathy with blood all over him and dropped down like a ragged doll while his hair color changed back from red to black.
***
Castiel stood in front of an ancient cave door, its rune-crafted markings visible only to him. As he touched the door, the intricate runes illuminated, and it slowly swung open. Entering, Castiel was greeted by a distant light at the end of the room. He walked towards it, the door closing behind him. However, despite his steps, the light seemed perpetually out of reach, as if he was trapped in a ceaseless cycle of movement.
Abruptly, the light extinguished, and from the shadows emerged a giant centipede that lunged at Castiel. Despite the urge to move, he found himself frozen in place. The centipede attacked relentlessly, and just as it seemed overwhelming, Castiel found himself in another cave room adorned with white crystals. A path materialized among them, changing color from white to red as he walked.
Encountering another locked door, Castiel touched it, and, as before, it glowed and opened. Inside, a serene egg awaited. An unsettling aura surrounded it, and Castiel felt an inexplicable connection. Approaching cautiously, he stopped before it, staring for a moment before tentatively reaching out. The moment his hand made contact, the egg heated up, and an irresistible force prevented Castiel from retracting. The heat intensified, engulfing him in flames, and his screams echoed through the cavern.
Suddenly, Castiel's eyes shot open, his breath heavy. Frantically checking his hands and body, he found everything intact. "Was that a dream? But it felt... so real!" he mumbled, the remnants of the vivid experience lingering in his mind.
As Castiel caught his breath, the memories of the infirmary flooded back like a raging tornado. The vivid image of his father's death, the scythe piercing his heart, replayed in his mind like an indelible picture. Panic set in, and he frantically surveyed his surroundings, realizing that he was inside a carriage.
"Why am I... What?..." Castiel uttered, confusion and distress evident in his voice. The disorienting shift from the surreal dreamscape to the confined space of the carriage left him grappling with the abrupt transition between realms. The haunting memories of the infirmary lingered, casting a shadow over the present moment.
Hearing noise emanating from the carriage, Byron went to check. "You are finally awake," he remarked, offering a reassuring smile.
As Castiel regained consciousness, the sight of an unfamiliar face triggered his combat instincts. Byron, recognizing the defensive posture, took a step back, urging, "Relax, relax. I am not your enemy."
Castiel studied Byron for a moment, sensing no immediate threat, and gradually eased his guard. "Who are you? Where am I?" he inquired, still grappling with the disorientation.
"Come, let's talk near the fire. Food is almost ready," Byron suggested, leading Castiel out of the carriage.
Upon stepping out, Castiel observed a woman preparing broth near a crackling fireplace. A few kilometers away from the aftermath of the bloody bandit incident, Byron and Cathy had set up camp near the road, intending to spend the night.
Byron handed Castiel some clothes, saying, "Here, wear these." After changing into the garments, Castiel settled on a rock near the warmth of the fire.
Cathy offered him a bowl of broth, remarking, "These clothes fit you perfectly, they were my son Aron's."
"Thank you. Now, will you tell me who you are?" Castiel asked, curiosity mixed with gratitude.
"I am Byron, and this is my wife Cathy. We are near the Free Isles. We found you near the borders of Duskhaven, bloodied, hurt, and unconscious. Your left eye had a cut, but it's fixed now. It has been a week since then."
Instinctively touching his left eye, Castiel recalled the injury. "Did one of you heal me? And Duskhaven?"
Byron and Cathy exchanged glances, prompting Byron to inquire, "Do you not remember anything? What about this morning?"
Feigning memory loss to keep his identity a secret, Castiel replied, "No, I can't remember anything."
Byron sighed, setting his bowl of broth down. "Bandits attacked us when we were traveling. You were still unconscious at the time. They were about to kill us all when suddenly you came out of the carriage and killed them instead. Your hair color changed to red, your left eye was healed, and you were moving faster than the eye could keep up. We had never seen such a thing in our entire lives. You killed all the bandits single-handedly with your bare hands. You saved our lives."
Cathy offered Castiel more food, expressing her gratitude. Castiel stared at both of them, struggling to comprehend the newfound information. "What... I killed... with my bare hands..."
Byron curiously asked, "Do you remember your name?"
Castiel hesitated before responding, "....No."
Byron sighed once again, "When we found you, you were hurt pretty badly. You must have lost your memory because of whatever happened to you." Continuing, Byron shared, "The world has gone to shits, I tell you. Wars everywhere, people getting killed all the time. Just a week ago, we heard that Xander was destroyed, their whole Royal family was killed by the so-called Tritas army."
Castiel's bowl of broth slipped from his hands, and he looked at Byron in disbelief. "What?"