Adon

Chuck’s Tavern opened at sundown on every day besides the seventh of Sivan. No earlier, no later. It was an ancient wooden skeleton, housing a few windows, torn walls, some rundown stools, and a line of customers cascading out the door. On calm days, the ocean's winds would flow through its decaying walls providing the scent of peace and solitude to the crowds of people gathered in its cramped quarters. Miles of sand piled below a clear blue sky, while both people and animals feasted on the luxuries of the beautiful sea.

“Up early today aren’t ya?”

Startled, Adon darted his head towards the direction of the voice, coming into contact with Chuck–the manager of the tavern. Chuck was a large individual, with a loud booming voice and a deep hearty laugh. The knotted red hair that dangled from his head and beard formed long ropes that would brush up against his shoulders. His five missing teeth were easily noticed as he smiled, and his constant mud-ridden face suggested that he had not bathed in a number of days.

However, these complications were in no way Chuck’s fault. As a man whose father was Divgin, he was unable to purchase anything in public, and it was even a risk for him to venture outside. For this reason, he had been isolating himself from the rest of society since far before Adon met him.

If he were a different man he would blame these troubles on his lineage or the first great war, but his kind soul forced no blame upon anyone but circumstance itself.

“Yeah, I came in almost an hour ago. Getting ready for the big performance,” Adon responded.

“Any new songs you prepared?” He questioned.

“Nah, I was up all night practicing though.”

“What for?” He snickered, pausing to glance at my face, “Oh… I see.”

“You see what?” Adon quickly blurted.

“She’s gonna be here tonight right?”

“No. What? Who’s she?” Adon responded, quickly putting a glass of water up to his face as if it would protect him from the redness impending upon the boundaries of his cheeks.

“Ya know who she is.”

With the silence that followed, Chuck’s face formed into a rapturous grin as he took another large gulp out of his canister.

“Ain’t that right. You’ve really grown my boy. Really have.”

Adon and Chuck were not just recent acquaintances. They had first met over ten years ago. The day was a tempestuous one, with winds like glaciers and rain as sharp as knives. For weeks, Adon had wandered through the streets of Edenia, begging for even the slightest scraps of food and shelter. When he arrived at that old wooden shack with soiled clothes and wet tears running down his swollen cheeks, the storm was nearing its peak. Bolts of lightning dashed around him and waves the size of giants rushed across the sandy shore.

Adon knocked on the wooden door three times, and when he received no response, he peeked through a small hole in the door's decaying frame. The man inside looked no better than Adon: beaten and torn, sleeping on a bed made of nothing but uneven shavings of wood and moss.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Adon could tell immediately that he was not a normal human. With his albino like skin, deep blue eyes, and a height that was well over seven feet, he was absolutely terrifying. But terrifying or not, with the storm raging outside, he had little choice but to enter the shack.

Louder and louder, Adon pounded on the wooden door until the manlike creature inside began to stir. As the creature lifted himself up from the ancient bed, Adon could see a great red fire blaring within his eyes.

“What do you want, scum.” The creature’s deep voice boomed.

Petrified with fear, Adon tried to force out a few words as if speaking would keep him alive, “I-, I just-, I don’t mean to-”

The big creature stared down at Adon, his broad chest and bulging muscles shifting and rippling throughout his translucent skin. The creature’s image and posture represented that of a polar bear preparing to pounce upon his prey.

Adon immediately fell to the ground pleading for mercy. How ironic, he thought to himself, I survived so many weeks of hell only to be murdered by another monster.

But while Adon laid on the ground, sniffling and sobbing, a strange, booming sound erupted from above him. As he fearfully turned his head towards the sky, he saw the creature.

But to his surprise, the creature’s once horrifying and evil scowl was transformed into an enormous smile. The creature’s chest began to move up and down in a consistent rhythm forming the most calming and soothing laugh Adon had ever heard.

“What are ya doin’ here my boy? Bein’ alone in this great big world ain’t so fun is it?” The creature questioned kindly.

Adon stood up and shook his head.

“What's ya name?” The creature asked.

“Adon.”

“What a nice name ya got.”

“Thank you.”

“What happened to ya?” The creature continued, “Did ya run away from home or something?”

“My-, my parents, they didn’t have enough money to pay for our house and- and one day I came home and they weren't there. And I waited and waited and waited, probably for days on end but they never came back.” Adon answered, tears falling onto the wooden panels of the tavern once again.

“How old are you?”

“Eight.”

“And how long have you been out here?” The creature pointed to everything around him.

“Probably a little over a month. I-, I don’t really remember.” Adon whispered weakly.

“I’m so sorry, my boy,” the creature whispered, crouching down and enveloping Adon in a hug.

From that day on, Chuck became Adon’s father. He taught Adon how to answer arithmetic equations and proper grammar use while writing. He showed Adon how to cook and make every alcoholic drink in existence. But most importantly, he taught Adon how to love–he taught Adon how to live.

Every night, Chuck would come into Adon’s room and tell stories to him; sometimes he would recall stories of his own of his own life as a Divgin; and here and there, he would recite chapters of the Divgin holy scriptures. Through Chuck’s stories, he helped Adon understand the risks and dangers of living in the world of Kian and how to survive and endure them.

So now, as Adon stared at the kind face of Chuck standing in front of him, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Adon, ya ok? Ya been smiling weirdly for a while now,” The voice of Chuck questioned concernedly.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking,” Adon grinned.

“Well stop thinking and start working, the tavern’s at maximum capacity for the night and we open in two hours.” Chuck grumbled sarcastically to himself, “Seventy-five, yeah right. We can barely fit fifty in this old decaying heap.”

And with those final words, Chuck and Adon walked into the kitchen to prepare food and wine for the impending dinner rush.