AN: Hey guys. Took me a long time to write that chapter and I am honestly not very confident in it. Not sure if I could bring the feelings of the characters across or not, but this is the way I wanted to start off the story.
Anyhow, this is still only the prologue, told from the side of the father. Slow but fucked up in its own right, not the in your face berserk born from the hanged corpse of his mother, but still...
If some things are questionable you can ask them in the comments or wait for me to explain it in the story.
Enjoy.
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Dreams.
They are an extension of ourselves, the phantom that follows us in our sleep. Most of us do not even remember them and often if we wake up, we quickly dismiss those and continue with our lives. And still, they do very much influence us...
But what if something far more powerful than us could influence and even manipulate them? Wouldn't those beings pretty much hold our lives in their hands?
Maybe this is what it means to be a god?
- Unknown -
I walked out of the kitchen with a plate of the best prepared food there could be in a radius of 200 kilometers. How I know that? Pff, because it was prepared with the utmost love and care of course.
My beautiful wife sat on our bed and was affectionately rubbing her belly. She noticed my approach and looked up with a beautiful smile. I put the plate on her lap and with a kiss sat right beside her.
“I could swear I just fell him move.” She returned to the belly rubbing.
Leaning against her I put my hand under hers and she guided it around. “Does it work this way though? Isn't it to early to feel anything?” I asked worried. Sure, I knew next to nothing about biology, but for a baby to move after only 3 months should not be possible, right? Or maybe she was just imagining.
“No, I felt it, that something special happened to my baby boy..” She made sure to give her unborn baby the utmost attention and care with every of her movements.
Watching that scene, I felt my heart warm up but at the same time could not help but be jealous. It was nothing big, don't get me wrong, I am not envious of my unborn son or anything... I just did not get enough attention from my goddess of a wife and could only pout at that..
I sneered. “How do you know it is a boy? There is no way to tell now.” Only Druids could connect their consciousness to another living being and would be able to tell the gender of a baby, but we did not bother to search for one. They were also rare and expensive.
My darling laughed sweetly. “I just do.” She continued to rub her stomach. “I have wonderful dreams of him... They began not long ago but every time I would see a mighty warrior, powerful and with honor. He would lead us, can you believe it my love?” She smiled and I could feel that she truly believed it. “It is so weird, not even 3 months and I already love him so much...”
Hugging her dearly to me, I answered. “But of course you would, you are a mother after all. Isn't there something in our nature to love our children no matter what?”
“I think my love is very special though..” She pouted cutely.
That night we lay next to each other and I would feed my beloved wife the best I could offer. It was a beautiful day, one without bloodshed and only between the two of us.
My name is Myles and I am member of the Karta tribe. Actually I am also the current leader, but later more to that.
I am of the demi human race. A wolf variant to be precise. In our little continent we only have that one subspecies of demi humans, but even we know that in the rest of this wide world, there are thousands of others.
Our race is famous for its fierce nature and natural abilities on the battlefield. We get stronger during the night and our claws and fangs are deadly by nature while our eyes, ears and the sense of smell are far better than other races. Our race was made for war and this is where we are the best at.
In our world destroyed by war, our profession as mercenaries is highly regarded and respected within our race. The fact that we are one of the best also helps our reputation.
Fighting humans, elves and demons is a daily activity for us as our city is stationed right next to the borders. A dangerous placement yes, but also very convenient and not that dangerous at all if you consider our strength. Our borders are safe and usually it is us that attack, so the enemies do not even have time to go back at us, usually.
At least once a month I would travel to the front lines and fight those scums, that racial filth that must exist because of inbreeding or the drunk mistakes of foolish gods.
In our world the term racism does not exist for such an obvious thing does not need a name, we hate each other deeply and nothing will change it.
Well, actually racism does exist, I was just exaggerating...
But to be really honest, racism is just a means as to justify the endless war. After all it is so much easier to kill endless humans if you deeply believe that they are the incarnation of evil without ever questioning it. This is the difference between returning home as a hero hailed by others and being able to hold your children in your hands, and sleep without worries, or a murderer with blood on your hands. Racism was a justification for the banal violence that was consuming these lands.
You can call me a hypocrite, but despite understanding this, I still choose to live the same way as the other ignorant people surrounding me every day. I am just to deep in there, it was the way I lived and despite me understanding this, I would never in my life share a meal with a human for example. The knowledge does not mean I can look past what we did to each other.
No, I had to adapt just like everyone else did and as such the hate came naturally to me. I hated and the killing became natural, it gave me joy. I adapted and I survived, I became stronger and now people are looking up to me. This is how I can destroy villages of demons and kill women with children in their hands but then return home to embrace my wife, this is how one survives in such a harsh world, this is how you cope with such atrocities. Or from what I just described, you in fact do not.
But.. don't get me wrong, my wife is a great warrior herself and would most likely kick my ass if not for the pregnancy hehe. Most likely, no, definitely far superior to me.
When I was only 15 and had just lost my father in a previous battle. After burning his corpse at a funeral and crying my eyes out in seclusion, I joined our next battle.
Back then me being just a small son of a small mercenary, I was practically no one and at first wanted to go to war for fame and glory but now I went to kill some more humans. I had no hope to find the one that robed me of my father, but I was sure that if I could kill 100 of them, my father would be avenged in his afterlife and could rest in peace. Yes, this is the kind of stuff your mind does to try and cope somehow with the harsh reality.
Take the funerals for example. Just a few days prior I stood in front of my father ashes and what did I do? I put my hands together and prayed for him to our god. Why did I do that? Well, so my mind could be at rest. I know that we do it so that our relatives and loved ones can be put to rest, but actually we do it for ourselves.
When someone dies, we blame us and hate us for not being able to do anything, but then comes a convenient religion along that tells you. “Hey son, pray for your father and it will all be awesome, he will be happy in heaven and shit.” And we just accept it to not question it so it could put us to peace.
Well, anyhow...
Today the shy and timid me actually went to the front lines and consumed by rage I fought with two swords like a berserker, not paying attention to any of my wounds and jumping right into their ranks, slashing around me and being sure that I would at least have no real chance of missing since literally no matter where I slashed, there would be somebody there.
While I was in such a battle, I was then hit with an arrow into my helmet and it ricochet to the side, hitting a human, but now my vision was blocked since my helmet was not in the right position and slightly turned to the left.
Panicked I just slashed almost blindly around until I felt sharp and agonizing pain in my right shoulder and dropped one of my swords.
“YOU MORRON!” I heard a loud feminine shout followed by a men's screams of pain.
My helmet was then forcefully taken of me with and I saw a beautiful demi human some years older than me. She had two cute red fox ears above her head and a fluffy red tail with a white spike at the end.
My daze was interrupted as she hit me across the face and started to scream at me, mad for my disregard of my own life.
I was about to respond but saw a human behind her aiming his sword at her back. Quickly I reached up to her and almost as if hugging extended my sword arm past her as to parry the hit and to kill the human.
“17.” I counted out loudly.
I looked up to the woman and saw the realization on her face. Now I expected one of 3 things: either she would thank me for saving her own life, unlikely. She could deny that I even helped and would say it was all under her control, not true but very likely. Or she could get very flustered and fall in love with me, totally not gonna happen.
But I was stunned by her next words.. Madly she hit me in the chest. “Because I tried to help you, you fool, I almost died. If I were you I would take good care of the life I just gifted you or I swear I will hunt you in your afterlife and make it hell for you once I die.” She snorted and ran up to her next enemy.
I stood there for a few seconds, stunned and the realization hit me that I might have just fallen in love. Funny how it works..
Was it all because of her looks? Well, I certainly did not have much information about her and this was the first time I ever saw her, despite me being sure that she looked familiar somehow... So her looks were my first impression and the only thing I could base her of, apart from the few lines and her combat abilities.
I debated in my head whether it was real love but then I remembered where I was and saw another sword approach my head with a whistle and joined the battle once more. In the end who am I to question how love works?
Since then I was held in some regard in our city of mercenaries. After all this was my third battle and I showed quite a lot of potential, killing 34 humans and only suffering a blow to my shoulder and even then, still continuing. I even rose a few ranks and was well respected now.
But that does not matter for I had to recover a few months, which was unacceptable and I paid most of my money for a decent healer that would shorten that time considerably.
In the week that I needed to recover despite the healer, I have found out who this heavenly angel was. Her name is Olga and she is 19 years old. She is known for her fierce nature and her skills on the battlefield. She is quite respected her and had many fans and men trying to court her but luckily for me she does not accept anyone weaker than her. Ohh and she is the daughter of the tribe leader, the strong and fearsome man that is hailed as a hero from one of the last grand wars not long ago as he fought along the side of our races champion then.
Well, this makes things a liiitle tiny bit more complicated...
From here on I would train every hour of my time out of combat and would improve my skills until it was time for the true battle. There I would always fight with my life on the line and push myself past my limits. My levels and masteries rose considerably and when I reached level 86 and had my masteries finally reached the early stages of advanced, I found it appropriate to ask her for a duel for her heart.
With my heart beating like crazy, I finally walked towards her home, a big mansion surrounded by a forest and gardens in the middle of the city.
When I was asked by a guard who I was and what I had to do here, I replied with a shaky voice. “I- I am here t-to challenge madam Olga for her h-hand. “
The guard laughed like mad and allowed me to go inside as my face burned like crazy.
Before I even reached the mansion, I already saw a feminine figure covered in sweat swinging a sword as she stood in a beautiful garden of flowers and her body odor entered my nose. I lost myself with all my senses literally focused on her and just watched, lost in my little world.
“What do you want?” She asked me finally and got me out of my stupor.
“Ahh, y-yes. I am h-here to challenge you for..” I got completely embarrassed and could not finish my sentence.
She snorted. “So you want to have me? For what? My body or my position?” She came forward and stood before me, putting her hand under my chin and forcing me to look in her eyes.
I gulped loudly and lost myself in her blue surrounded by red eyes, a very unique and beautiful sight to behold. “For your heart.” I blurted out without thinking and kept on staring at her.
Repulsed by my statement she backed of and looked oddly at me. Finally she just pointed her sword at me. “Then you should be familiar with what I want from you.”
I nodded while cringing inside and wanted to run away to hide in a deep hole where no one would ever find me, but it was to late already. We started our duel.
'Well, not an outcome I expected.' I thought as I laid on the ground covered in bruises and small cuts. She totally kicked my ass.
I actually managed to disarm her but she immediately went for my chin with her fists and beat me despite having no weapon.
Feeling ashamed over me loosing the focus as I already thought I had won, I did not dare to talk to her now and wanted to simply go away and crawl inside a hole where I could die.
“You improved. “ Was all she said to me before walking away and letting be dumbfounded behind.
Over the next few months I would visit her once a day unless we needed to go because we were hired by someone for small scale inside wars or larger ones on other races.
She soon started to help me getting up and would even go as far as to treat my wounds. I would awkwardly start conversations with her and we would talk for hours with each other and before I noticed we were no longer awkward with each other and I finally won.
Olga smiled happily when the moment came and she stood up from the ground and gave me a hug. “I totally went easy on you.” She said to me and almost made me cry, but her next two statements brought a whole roller coaster of emotions upon me. “I love you...” I was between fainting from happiness and jumping high in the air. “Ohh, and my father will accept no one who is weaker than him for me.” She laughed and at that moment I gave up on life.
From here on I trained even more than ever and had to hold my distance from Olga. It took me a veery long time to beat her father, let me tell you this much.
After I beat him I also became the tribe leader but this did not matter to me as I married the woman that I loved and it all happened just a year or so ago, when I was already 29 years old...
When it comes to her father by the way, after he lost to me and I am still sure that he just saw that his daughter was in love with me, and that I started to greatly annoy him with my almost daily duels and as such he allowed me to win... My pride T_T... Well, since then he went to travel the world, or at least our not so little continent. Still have not heard anything from him since.
Back to the present I hugged my wife and we both went to sleep after some... Doggy action.
That night something changed in me. It began out of nowhere, a dream where a person would come into my life, a being surrounded by flames of darkness that would come and devour everything I love, take it and grow stronger and stronger until no one would be able to stop it from destroying all that mattered to me and the whole world. In this dream I would watch helplessly as me and my wife were toyed with by that being, where it would consume me whole after it already took everything from me.
I woke up the next morning bathed in cold sweat and was told that I trembled and cried in my sleep. At first I was ashamed of that and Olga laughed playfully at me and I thought nothing of it, but the dreams never stopped...
Every night I would be plagued by them and there was no way around it. It was laughable, me, a mighty warrior of the Karta tribe being afraid of something? Afraid of my own dreams, RIDICILOUS! I swore to myself that I would not be affected by them and continued my life of war out there and taking care of my wife at home. Her belly grew bigger by the day and she seemed more at peace with herself than ever. Often I would find her sitting down and simply caressing our child inside of her while she sung for him, it was obvious and evident from every second of her last months that she loved our child more than anything in this world, probably even more than me. Not that I am mad at her for this or anything.
She was now in her 7th month of pregnancy and her belly was enormous, the child inside was clearly growing strong and mighty, maybe a little to much even...
My dreams also changed soon. The darkness no longer just came, no, it crawled outside of my beloved wife, devouring her from the inside and finally fighting his way forcefully out of her, taking her life with it and even devouring her corpse after it was out.
I was not dumb and saw the implications of those dreams, they warned me about my soon to come child, spawned seeds of doubt and fear inside of me, seeds that grew by each day. Soon she would give birth and I was already terrified of that day, but did not dare to tell her about it. After all, those were just dreams, right?
I fought against it, every day and mostly after me waking up from those horrible nightmares I would repeatedly tell me that those were just dreams. That those were just stupid dreams without any base backing them up. I would tell me that it would never really happen and that even if it did, then it must be just a coincidence. That even if I lost my wife, that I would never hate my own child, not the child that my wife loved so much.
We sat one day on a bench on front of our mansion and I had Olga on my lap, but she like so often only had eyes for our child, playfully singing it songs of war and victories, songs that any demi human would sing to his child. I found it very cute and also happily listened to it.
My wife then suddenly looked up to me and with a bright smiled she told me “I love you.”
Running my hands trough her hair and answered her words with a deep and passionate kiss. She then looked for minutes in my eyes and finally said. “Promise me to be a good father Myles. I will never forgive you if you aren't.” She hugged me to her chest and kissed my forehead.
Deep worry and doubt entered my mind and I feared that the dreams would come true but with all my might I took the worries and put them far away into the darkest corner of my mind, somewhere where they would not hinder me on every of mine steps and would just leave me alone. I hugged her back and answered playfully. “You would have the endless afterlife to pay me back if not.”
But she did not laugh and looked sadly at me. “Just promise me.”
The paranoia in me grew and for a moment I almost lost my cool and told her of my worries, but then dismissed them again and told her not to worry and that I would give my best. “Then I have truly nothing to fear..”
Finally the dreaded day on which my wife had to give birth came.
Laying in her bed and surrounded by doctors and shamans she was being taken good care of. I could only stay beside her and hold her hand, with my eyes locked onto her with pain filled face.
Breathing heavily and screaming she pressed, pressed as if her life depended on it. No, as if something greater than her life was on the stake.
She was pressing my left hand so hard that I heard my bones crack but with all my attention fixated on her, I could barely hear it and did not bother. With my free hand I would constantly wipe her sweat away from her forehead and provide the bare minimum assistance that I was capable of.
The doctors however began to panic, with shaking voices they told Olga that the baby was being choked by its own umbilical cord and that they would immediately need to cut her open to get the baby outside and to provide the medical attention to it that it so desperately needed right now.
Without any worry for herself my wife immediately screamed at them. “THE FUCK ARE YOU THEN WAITING FOR??? DO IT! NOW!” And like this I could only watch as her belly was carefully cut open and a bloody baby was taken out of it. Not a single time did she look at me and had only eyes for my newborn son.
The shamans tried desperately to stop the terrible bleeding's that came with it, but my wife lost her consciousness after taking a look at the baby, smiling and finally closing her eyes.
I was so very terribly worried for her but also looked for the newborn. The doctors and shamans told me that nothing was wrong with the newborn anymore and so I breathed out with relief.
But then my whole life shattered down when they all began to panic once more and all surrounded my wife. Providing her with more lower healing spells. This did not seem to work so they started to panic and one rushed out to get something that would hopefully safe her. The assistant finally came 15 minutes later with a slimy magical being that was then quickly attached to her naked chest and would massage her heart while also providing her with oxygen trough tiny tubes that went inside of her mouth and nose.
Like this I stood a few hours with the newborn in my arms and watched the desperate struggle for my wife's life.
They still used lightning magic on her chest as to get hear heart to beat again and pumped her bloodstream full with Adrenalin and everything that would not let her body die.
The doctors then all seemed to stop at the same time and slowly came with their faces tired and all eyes avoiding mine.
I was told that her brain did not receive enough oxygen and was damaged beyond repair now. That she was already dead, that her brain lost its function and the soul most likely left the barely living body.
Breaking down and crying I held my sleeping child in my arms, hugging it tightly to my chest. After letting loose of my emotions and crying my eyes out, I remembered her wish and immediately understood that I now needed to be strong for my child.
In a slight stupor I watched his body, with the blood already a dark red and dried, it covered his whole body.
What stuck with me till my last moment however was the image of his tiny hands being covered in blood the most.
Some time passed since I lost my wife. I immediately send out a request to find a woman that would provide breast milk for my child and generally take care of him. A nice middle aged woman agreed to it and started to take care of him. She also recently had her own baby and as such didn't mind to take care of both of them, I gladly welcomed her and even took her in, allowing her to stay in our mansion.
Since that day I would mostly go out for months to ravish the lands with my men, slaughtering thousands and accepting any request and any money simply to have a reason as to go to war.
Rarely would I ever go back home, but when I did, I would only watch my son from afar as he would sleep or was being fed, or even as he played with the woman's child.
I simply thought that maybe I would bond with my son much later over training and battles just like it was the case with me and my father before he died. I imagined how I would train my son and how I would tell him all my secrets, teaching him my ways and it made my heat warm. But, this would come later. Right now I just did not have the will to take care of him. I can barely take care of myself...
But most of the time I would simply sit beside my wifes bed.
She was gone. This is what I have been told countless times, but I simply did not want to accept that and took her body to lay here where she would be taken care of by people I paid. She looked so peaceful, as if she was just sleeping and would wake up any moment... Whenever I visited, I would sit next to her bed until I finally fell asleep on it.
But even the dream world did not let me escape the cruel reality. Whenever I fell asleep, I would have the same dream over and over again, of the creature of darkness crawling out of my wife and eat her corpse, but now the creature got facial features, looking like my son. I would then for hours simply watch it eat my wife as it was covered in red and simply stared at me. The worst thing however was that my wife also had her eyes open and would lock eyes with me and her whole body seemed to plead me for something.
Waking up, I would always try to laugh it off, telling myself that it was silly to blame my newborn child for the death of his mother. After all, this was pretty common even with the help of healing magic. I would try to convince myself that it was just me and my broken mind trying to deal with the horrible things in my life, that my mind was just waiting to let its rage free on someone with a face. I kept on telling me that it made no sense and that I would need to not pay attention to it. Again, I took all those thoughts and locked them in the darkest parts of my mind, trying to not pay it any mind.
This night I went to my room and after taking my armor off and putting my weapons, a dagger and a sword on a commode, I simply fell to my bed and fell asleep, to suffer the same nightmare all over again.
2 years passed since the death of my wife and today was my sons second birthday. On a whim I decided to return home. There was no real reason, I just wanted to.
Arriving home, I immediately went to visit my wife and was happy and saddened at the same time to see her lay there as always. Haggard body with bones visible right beneath her skin, she looked like the representation of death.
I heard a knock on the door and went to look who that might be.
The woman that I hired and even forgot the name of stood there, afraid but resolved to tell me something.
“Master Myles, sorry to disrupt you but there is something you need to know.” The woman did not dare to look me in my eyes. I guess I did have the reputation of a by rage consumed beast now, anyway.
“Yes, what?” I wanted to get it over with and asked her with a blank look.
“It is about your son, master Myles... Since he learned half a year ago what a father is, he has always expressed a great wish to meet you. I would always tell him that master Myles is a very busy man, but now he has trouble believing it when his father does not visit him even if he is here. Even if today is his birthday...”
Just staring at her, I did not know what to think of that. “.. tell me about him.” I finally expressed a little bit of interest in my own flesh and blood but still felt.. complicated when it came to him.
The woman brightened up and looked me directly in the eyes. A gesture that would be taken as disrespect in our culture but I did not mind since it meant little to nothing to me and I really had more important matters to worry about. “Master Myles, he is a very cheerful and sweet child, it is so cute how he wants to be a hero when he grows up. Healthy and filled with energy. It is often to such an extent that he could run away if I did something as little as turn around for a few seconds. I do not take him out often as I fear for his safety, but inside your territory and in the small forest he often plays with Anna, my daughter.” She now had some fear evident on her face. “ Master Myles, he calls her his sister and me... He thinks of me as his mother and I never had the heart to actually tell him the truth, he was just so happy and accepted me, so I just let this farce go on. I am truly sorry Master Myles.”
Those words hit me very hard and I had a mixture of rage and sad understanding in me. Rage because the unthankful brat dared to defy his mother, followed by forced by my “reason” understanding as such a development was only natural. It was my own fault for not paying him even one visit and telling him the truth... And yet still.
Calming down, I told her not to worry and finally decided to visit my son. Tomorrow would be the day.
That night I had another different nightmare. I guess gods must really hate me...
This time it was me standing and watching my child devouring the dead body of my wife. I heard the disgusting munching and the foul smell accompanied by a feeling of dread and helplessness, I could only stand and watch. Crying I saw my son growing with each bite until he finally grew up to an adult. A splitting image of both me and a few of my wife's features like her beautiful red eyes.
Crying I watched my child walking towards me. I could not refuse him nor could I move a single muscle at all when he just hugged me. Breaking down even more I hugged my child back and sobbed into his shoulders, loosing my sanity.
Finally I was brought back by a feeling of a growing helplessness and as I turned my head I saw my son devouring my shoulder and looking me in the eyes. I felt my power go away and saw him grow stronger with ever bite he took until I no longer was me but only a poor and shriveled excuse of a prior man while my son stood over me, more powerful than I ever was and looked down at me with disgust.
I woke up screaming and sweating mountains as I always did but that time with a new fear slowly growing in me.
After waking up and spending some time with my wife, I walked towards the place where me and my son would have a little date. It was in the backyard in a small forest. He walked towards me hand in hand with the woman that took care of him. I watched the timid child try to hide behind her leg while simultaneously trying to look strong. It would normally be a cute scene to witness, but I had different thoughts right now.
It hit me hard that I neglected my son for so long and foremost that I must have disappointing Olga greatly. I feared that she never would forgive me and avoided my sons eyes.
But this was not the reason for the cold sweat that covered my back, not was it the reason for my shaking hands. Those dreams... they got trough to me. I felt that they got to me and feared the implications of the last one. The dreams were right the last time after all.
NO! I screamed internally and did not want to break under those false prophecies. Dreams are meaningless, they are literally just images of my real life mixed with ideas, emotions and sensations that might come randomly and have no meaning or might be my mind trying to deal with those emotions. I have literally no basis to assume my dreams have any meaning towards my real life, last time was nothing more than a horrible coincidence.
And why would those dreams tell me my future out of all people in this whole wide world. Yes, they are lots of dream seers or just plain lunatics that are claiming to see the future in their dreams, but why would I out of all people be shown such horrible prophecy? I have never been neither loved nor hated by gods and my ancestors have no ties with them. I have not angered any of them and none should have a reason to torment me constantly.
Even if we look past that, prophecy is terribly wrong in general. Let's take the countless tales of dark gods coming one day to bring our world the apocalypse. How many tales are there of such gods? And it is not like gods aren't real, even we have 4 nameless of our own. But those hundreds of fallen have never succeeded, those prophecies were all proven wrong and all of them have been imprisoned, even our little continent knows those tales. The seven deadly sins, The dark fallen arch angel of doom; Lucifer, The messengers of apocalypse; The wolf Fenrir and snake Jörmungandr and many more... All those prophecies were proven wrong and those gods were all banished into prisons and guess what, we are still here. No, even if this prophecy is supposed to be true, I won't make it happen, I will stand above it!
Then I thought about Olga and how she would kick my ass if I did not get my shit together right fucking now and I needed to hold back a melancholic chuckle as I calmed down.
With newfound resolve I walked up to my son and greeted him. “Hi little one.”
The boy looked shyly up to me and I could see the uncertainty and fear in his whole body. Finally he spoke up to me. “Hello... father.”
Looking at my own son I could not hold back anymore, what a horrible piece of shit father I have been this whole time. I would kill myself so my wife could give me the well deserved kicks if I could come back afterwards to take proper care of him.
He truly had his mothers eyes, blue surrounded by a fiery red. But looking longer into them I also noticed tiny bits of black in it...
Far to late as to have any dignity left, I saw my son being confused as he watched me get teary eyed.
“Is something wrong papa?” My son came and held me by my pants, still awkward and uncertain around me.
“It's nothing.” Feeling overwhelmed with emotions I picked him into my arms and held him with my right arm while we walked somewhere quiet, where we could finally get to know each other.
He was here memento, her legacy. I will need to cherish him.
Together I led him to my private room. Once we entered my son immediately started to look fascinated around and how could he not? My room was filled with trophies and weapons, sometimes both at the same time.
I also noticed how his eyes seemed to be attracted towards one weapon in particular, my two handed sword on my commode, he looked fascinated at the giant weapon that was many times bigger than his tiny body.
“Found something interesting little one?” I asked with a smirk. Not gonna lie, I was both impressed and proud with my son, after all the first thing that caught his interest was a weapon. Not only that, it was the weapon that our entire race prided itself in wielding.
He nodded shyly and I laughed. “Nothing to be afraid here.” I gave him a pecker on his cheek overwhelmed with affection. “This my son, is a bastardsword. It is a variation of two handed swords that our race loves to wield so much. Do you know why my son?”
He kept on starring at me but shook his head.
“It is because the deity that protects our race, the holy god without a name chooses that weapon and ever since he came to our lands, every single one of his champions wielded such weapons and our race is proud to wield it.” I sneered. “You must know the other races are not like us. Only few of the humans pride themselves in the usage of a bow, the weapon of their god. Same goes for elves and scythes and demons and one handed swords, even if the last ones do use the very often and most of them also take pride in wielding them. But not to our extent my son. No, this is where we are special.”
He took an amazed look at the weapon. “Does that mean I will also wield such a weapon, papa?”
I nodded. “I would be very proud of you if you did my son. But do not worry, even we recognize that it is healthy to use other weapons, after all the art of a battlefield us a complex one and being dull and predictable is not anything that will help us, no, we also use bows and spears, shields, and maces. But still, every man or woman that wants to be respected has to wield a two handed sword properly.” I then grinned smugly. “Did you know that your fathers weapon mastery is already at a late advanced stage?”
My son was both confused as he did not know if that was much or not but impressed since he automatically assumed it must be quite a lot since I told it with so much hype.
“Look here..” I now had to explain my son this worlds system and... I felt very smug and happy to be able to do this. After all, this was an important moment for the both of us, this is how I envisioned we would bond like. He still can not train with only 2 years of age, but this will follow soon. “Once you mature and step up a few levels, the omnipotent system will recognize your worth and will provide you with skills and masteries that will make you stronger and help your growth.
Those masteries have ranks and the higher the rank the more powerful the advantages are but also the harder it will be to climb higher.” I explained it to him seriously and watched his amazed look.
“Now those masteries and skills have ranks. Those go like this:
Beginner-->Intermediate-->Novice-->Advanced-->Expert-->Master-->Grandmaster-->Divine-->????
Yes, nobody actually knows what comes after that. Actually only few in history of mortals know what it means to have grandmaster or even divine. This is only knowledge we have from books of the greatest heroes this world has ever seen. So your father is actually kind of really awesome, don't you agree?”
His eyes sparkled and he nodded vigorously. “How did you do it papa? How can I become as strong as you?”
Rubbing his head I answered. “By winning countless battles and killing thousands of course. Nobody becomes strong by simply training my son, no. Our race believes in the so called way of a spartan. It means only the strongest survive and get stronger while the weak hold no value and will always stay beneath the strong. The way to get strong is to train your basics and then live your life as if it was one great war. Do you know how many battles I have had so far my son?” He shook his head and I answered with a giant grin. “I just came back from my 71th one and this is how I obtained my strength. I won every single one of them and always returned home. With my whole body injured and some pieces of flesh missing but I was victorious.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“When will I go to war papa?”
“First we will make a decent warrior out of you my son and when you are 15, maybe even 14, you will join me and we will fight side by side, like it has been with me and my father, may he rest in peace.” I patted his head. “So tell me my son, what have you been doing up till now?”
He smiled and told me all of it eagerly. “Most of the time I am playing with sis Anna and we often play catch or hide. I win most of the time so I started to go easy on her now. I also love it when mama reads us stories. The ones about wars and heroes and champions are the best!” He beamed me a big smile but my mind was somewhere else right now.
Looking him straight in his eyes I told it to him. “Son.. that woman is not your mother.” He looked very confused at me and I took a deep breath. “She only takes care of you but she ain't your mother. Your mother is actually...” I thought about what I might do next. Should I carefully explain it to my 2 years old son? Probably not the wisest decision since he lacks the knowledge of many concepts, probably even life and death so it will only confuse him. I then decided to show her to him, no matter what might come. “Come, I will show you.”
We went together to the room where Olga laid in. The whole time on the way there, which was not so far away from my private room, our previous room where we have been living together, I held his tiny hand and became lost in my own thoughts about what the future might hold for us.
We stopped before the door and I mentioned with my hand for him to open it and to go inside. The child had to stand on the tips of his toes to actually reach the doorknob and carefully opened it.
Inside the room was properly lit and held clean. The table and commode that stood inside were all covered in pictures of me or Olga and mostly us together.
On the bed there she laid, a woman that has lost most of her body fat, covered by a blanket and with her hair and claws properly cut, at least properly for us demi humans. Her fluffy tail was sticking out of her bed sheets and dangling down to the ground. I took it and laid it on her as the tail of a demi human was his or her pride and it needed to be honored. The magical being that was keeping her body alive still on her. Her eyes were opened and she stared into nothingness since her brain and soul were already gone and there laid only her flesh.
Why I choose to keep her despite knowing that? Probably because I am a hypocrite that depends to much on her hehe...
My son turned around and looked confused to me.
“This my son, this is your mother.” I came to her bed and carefully sat beside her. My hand caressed her cheek and I put some strings of hair out of her face. “Her name is Olga. Olga of the Kartas. She was one of the greatest warriors this world has ever seen.” I got a little emotional there and had to turn my head around to hide my pitiful expression from my son.
He timidly came forwards, not knowing what to do. “Is she sleeping papa?”
I took him under his shoulders and sat him on the bed where he could take a proper look at his mother. “Isn't she beautiful?” We both looked at her face and I carefully wiped away some saliva from her slightly parted lips.
“When is she gonna wake up papa?” My son asked worried and did not dare to touch her just now.
I took his tiny hand and led it to his mothers head so he could touch her head. Our both hands intertwined with her hair and I led his hand trough it, letting him enjoy the silky and often washed hair.
“She is not gonna wake up...” I finally spoke to him. “Ever.”
He looked up to me confused and worried. “But why?”
Still patting her head, I answered my 2 years old son. “Because this world is a very cruel place my son. It never forgives and never forgets and will punish you for the tinniest bit of weakness you might show and even if you stay strong all your life, it will still find a way to fuck you over.” Looking him in the eyes I continued. “But you will soon see it for yourself anyway.”
A few weeks passed and since that day I have been visiting my son quite often actually. We would often take walks in the city or I would let him watch my daily training. Soon he expressed big interest in trying it out for himself.
“That is actually a really good idea. What weapon would you like to use?” I asked curiously but already expected his answer since he expressed great interest in champions and their tales.
“A twohander!” He beamed me a smile.
We shared a quick laugh. “Hmm, since you are still very small, I think a short sword may be more than enough.” I scratched my head awkwardly as I looked down onto the small body of my son. It was actually bigger than other 2 years olds, but he was still only 2 and you could easily see that... “I would be surprised if you could even really hold it..”
Nevertheless I gave him the smallest sword, largest dagger actually, that I had and saw him struggle as he tired to hold it properly without the piece of metal forcing him to fall over since its weight was far to heavy for his tiny body..
From then on I told him to practice with sticks the sword forms and strikes while he would also train his body by running and doing push ups, sit ups and some more of the basics.
Another year passed and whenever I was home, I would watch my son grow.
And to tell you the truth, his growth was scary... He was only 3 but already looked like 6. His body became much larger and I saw his muscles develop slowly but surely. It was nothing and he still looked fairly normal but as soon as you start to pay attention to his body, the difference becomes quite easy to see.
I watched him swing his sword around and decided to give him a very important lesson. “Son, what do you think of honor?”
He beamed me a proud smile. “It is the most important thing in a battle! Only one that fights honorably will truly win!”
“Who told you that?”
“Well... the neighbor kids told me. The nan also reads me good night stories and there the heroes are always the most honorable and they win because of that.” He proudly answered.
“Let me tell you why this is complete and utter horse shit.” I sneered and with a sour face began to explain to my son that just shrunk down because of my harsh tone. ”Tell me, if you were fighting for your life, would you really care for whether you are honorable? Or would you try to be victorious? Because history is ALWAYS written by the victors while the losers are countless and forgotten, meaning the winner can tell that he was honorable despite him not being so, while the looser might have fought with honor but will not be remembered since he lost, it's just the way it goes..
And even if you were to decide to fight with honor, would you always expect from your enemy to do the same? From my experience men would rather be victorious and return to their beloved families rather than care about such meaningless things as honor.”
“But isn't this the difference between heroes and villains? The good have to be like that to make a point!” My ignorant son tried to reason with me.
“This is the main problem with such stories... If the enemy tries to kill the hero with every way and means possible, but still loses while the “good guy” basically holds himself back and gives himself a handicap, does that mean that he was heroic or does it maybe mean that he was so much stronger than the other one as he could allow himself to fight in such a away?” I let it sink in. “Only the really strong can have the privilege to fight heroic while the others will use every means possible to survive. There is no honor on the battlefield and only a fool would search for it there. So either get strong enough to allow yourself to fight in such a way or expect nothing but failure.”
We both went in fighting stances and I made some easy to dodge feints at my son and stopped my hits before they reached their targets. “Eyes, organs especially the heart and the brain. Points where the arteries gather and the enemy would bleed out fast if you hit them like the tight and especially the neck. Those are the weak spots and you will learn to aim for those naturally if you want to survive in this world.”
I saw him still hesitant but he accepted. We got ready and exchanged a few hits.
With a swift motion he hit my weapon away and surprisingly fast almost hit my neck, but I of course evaded.
“Wha!” He looked at something in front of him astonished. “Sword mastery beginner 1?”
Now I looked astonished at him. “Don't tell me you unlocked it..” and he just nodded proud of himself.
'I have never heard of anyone unlocking a mastery before the age of 8 or the 10th level... Unbelievable.'
The past year I would not have a single nightmare and actually almost forgot the horrors in them, but now that I watch my son grow in this astonishing speed, I can not help myself but feel frightened of him and have my hands covered in sweat once again as I remembered my last nightmare.
'Ridiculous, me afraid of a small child? My child?' I thought and pushed the thoughts away into the darkest parts of my mind but started to avoid his eyes once more.
…...........................................................
A month passed since the last time I saw my son and currently me and my tribe accepted a call for arms and went north east, into the lands of the demons.
When it comes to demons, they are a very power hungry race and their thirst for might has no bounds. Only maybe the humans can compare. They are very proficient in both magic and physical combat, making them a force to be reckoned with. Our race had to overcome their proficiency in magic by having great bowmen.
A firebomb may kill 10 men at once, but one bolt to the face will kill also do the job, so we are fine.
I remember one of my hardest battles was against a demon. He was a real monster, no exaggeration. I believe he was the highest level enemy that I have ever faced and if not for my men aiding me, I would stand no chance.
Back then I was 89, quite high but still long to go. In this world levels and masteries mean everything and his were much higher. I believe it was near 200, the level of champions. One must know that once anyone reaches 199, they are electable for the position of a champion and this is the level that only a few might reach, but not higher for reasons that I do not really understand.
At that time I was young and inexperienced and almost lost my life to that monster. My attacks dealt almost no damage to him and his skin literally felt like iron, only leaving scratches from my most powerful attacks. I also believe he had used some kind of magic for that. Me and my men the surrounded him and I could pierce my sword trough his eye and finally his whole skull. I rose a few levels and it brought me quite a lot of glory, but that did not matter to me.
Right now my level is 170, a large number for this world and with each level up It becomes harder and harder to climb the ladder. My training also does no longer give me the bonus strength or stamina raise as it was back when I was young and had lots of room for improvement.
Well, right now me and my men invaded demons lands and held a large city under siege by surrounding it with our and some other mercenaries men.
I took a look around and saw thousands of men being bored to death and simply waiting for a chance to do something, but unfortunately this is not how sieges work... No, our only mission right now was to wait for their supplies to run out and shoot the ravens down they tried to send to their allies while my trap was in work.
A young man of only 14 years of age that sat not far away from me looked up at the sky, he grinned and stood up making a lot of noise while doing so. It took him only seconds to take a bow and shoot an arrow somewhere far into the distance.
Seconds later I heard a “Krha!” and another raven fell down.
“HA! 3, I think I am leading you sorry excuses of men. Suck on this!” He laughed at the others and they lost themselves in a meaningless argument to loose some time. Before I knew it they began a brawl...
The only reason we shoot the ravens down is because the raven would provide the enemy with the exact information of us, it is of course not so we can prevent them from getting any help. No, this will come and this is also what we are expecting. Half of my forces are hidden in a forest not far away from here. As soon as we will get ambushed from behind and the enemy will assume we have no chance, opening their gates and going for all or nothing, my men will come out and turn everything around. I gave them an explicit order to not do anything unless the gates have been opened and me and my men here will storm them as they probably will expect us to panic. That means all we have to do is to not die until then. I may be not the most intelligent man and my strategy is very simple, but that does not mean that the simplest things in live are the ones that work the best.
Probably describes me the best, simple but working somehow... Yeahh, I am noting compared to our last leader.. Nothing I can do against that.
There is also the prejudice everyone holds against us and underestimate us. 'They all think of us as beasts.' I gritted my teeth at that thought. Humans would use our men for hard labor as slaves and females to satisfy their urges. Demons would drain our magic and plant their seed in our females as their seed seems to be extremely strong and all children will be automatically demons. The elves are the worst however... They are so far up their own asses, those snobs, they literally treat us as animals and the only good thing about this is that they won't torment our females beyond death.
'Magic' I thought and had a slight sadness within me as I could not wield it as so many of my men. Magic was quite rare for our race, but nothing we could not overcompensate with our physical strength. It was still sad though. Mages are very highly regarded in our society and treated special, even more so as in the other races where it is the norm. 'I wonder if my son will have magic.' I thought was sure that it would be so, no way he would not be talented there as well. In the back of my head a voice started again to stir up fear within me and I had to stand up and do something to avoid such thoughts.
As I turned my head towards the youth from before, I saw him taking on 3 other adults that were arguing with him before.
One of them grabbed the youth from behind and held his neck, choking him. “Fucking brat! Show your elders some goddamn respect or we will have to beat it into you!” Another middle aged man swung his fist with all of his power behind it into the youths stomach. From watching alone I could determine that he was around lvl 55 and his hand to hand mastery must be very low, around middle intermediate. So low that he still has some disadvantages when fighting with a weapon as hand to hand will give you additional benefits after advanced and make your sword skills be a complete new level when compared to before. It could even give you some unique skills such as steel grip.
The youth took the hit and did not show any signs of giving up. Quite impressive for sure, I only saw bits and pieces of him as this was one of his first missions so he must be a beginner.
“Then deserve it, you old sack of shit!” He hit the one behind him with his head and kicked the one that hit him. “I don't know about yall ladies, but I am just starting.” He went back into a fight stance with his fists covering his chin.
I laughed amused at that demonstration. “Don't you have anything better to do, you lot?” I asked the ashamed adults. “Go and scout the woods. Would not want to be ambushed for real, would we?” I gave them this order but knew that I already had enough men do just that. I just wanted them gone from here for now. “Kraven, come here boy.”
“Yes sir!” he cheerfully came to me and we sat beside each other. “So? How is your father doing?”
He scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Well, the spear hit him real hard, he died last week. After the funeral I joined the battle immediately.” He looked somewhere far away. “I think a distraction will do me good.”
“He was a good man.” I spared his father some thoughts, nice man that I never knew that much but we did drink together and killed side by side which was nice. “And you so? Still following that little dream of yours?”
“But of course!” The boy eagerly shook his head. “Sooner or later I will be the champion and will give us all the glory in the world!”
I looked at him amused. Children and their dreams...“Good luck with that. Who knows, maybe my boy will challenge you there.”
Kraven showed some curiosity at the last statement. “Why so?”
Scratching my head awkwardly, I answered. “He is a sweet child that shows amazing talent so he could be a candidate in the future even if he did not want to.. Honestly I am quite frightened myself... Just imagining his future possibilities...”
“Why would you be frightened? Should you not be proud?” He asked, looking oddly at me.
A wave of shame hit me as he nailed it with his questions. After all, there should be nothing bad about your own children outgrowing you, but...
Man, fuck that kid, as if he would know shit about how I felt right now. “Probably.” I then gave him a cold look. “Don't you have anything useful to do?” I told him and walked away completely annoyed.
…......................................................
After a successful siege we all returned home with a loss of only 30 men and women. As always, after we entered the cities gates, we were received warmly and the housewife's, children and others that did not take part in our battles cheered for us and our victory. The ones that already got the message of their loss also cheered for us, but with bitter expressions.
Their thoughts could probably only be summarized by the words 'They were not strong enough'. Death was handled like this in our culture, corpses of warriors were burned and the living would not grieve for to long and rather continue in the knowledge that they themselves were still alive and doing well. A race of warriors would not be able to continue otherwise.
The familiar smell of our city entered my nose, making me feel at home and I straight up rode to see my wife... And my son of course.
When I arrived home, I saw some of my slaves and maids wait for me outside, they were obviously informed of my arrival and had to give me a proper welcome. If it comes to slaves, our races does not really care that much. We kill the men in battles and offer the females a chance to live, together with children. They then get reeducated and can be bought. Me as a head of a tribe and as someone who was not home for a long period of time, I had quite a collection of them here.
Human slaves are probably the easiest, they get reeducated quite fast and as long as you never show them any chance of them getting freedom, they rarely if ever will disobey of do anything stupid.
Demons are much harder. Their pride is strong in them and at the same time they are willing to adopt to survive so you never know if your demon slave obeys you for real, or if she may slit your throat. As such I only have 2 of them here.
Elves are by far the hardest. Their pride knows no limits and they are in 9 our of 10 cases willing to take their lives rather than serve us. Like I said before, they see us as nothing but animals and are giant snobs, those arrogant fucks.
All of them I got from the previous tribe leader and they all did not make any trouble for me or my family and as such I treated them as good as a slave might hope to be treated.
“Welcome home master Myles.” They greeted me with a sad and fearful voice, but I did not pay them any mind and went straight for my wife.
Once inside, I could hear my son play with the other girl, forgot her name. They were on the ground floor and I could have went straight for them, but I decided to go up the stairs and pay a visit to my beautiful wife.
A man, the shaman that I have tasked with looking for her health came running at me. “Leader Myles! Something happened--” I ignored him and went straight to where I originally wanted to go to.
In my tired but joyous state I rushed towards my wife. It is weird, even I have to admit it. Her sight provides me with joy and nostalgia, only when I see her can I be sure that I am at home.
The shaman was still behind me when I opened the door and walked inside. Olga was still on the bed as always with her eyes opened and unfocused, pointed at the ceiling.
I walked up to her and sat on the corner of the bed. My eyes could not help themselves but be drawn to her.
I wanted to wipe her droll away as usual but for some reason her mouth was completely dry. I started to cares her pale and cold skin.. Wait. Immediately I sensed that something was extremely off and looked down to her chest. The magical being that was providing life support for her was still there and working, but when I tried to sense her pulse on her neck... there wasn't anything.
Immediately I pulled that monster of her and listened directly to her heart trough her pale and cold chest. Still nothing.
Consumed with panic fear and rage, I started my desperate struggle to try and safe her. My hands pressed together on her chest in a rhythm and my mind simply did not want to accept the obvious truth.
I have no idea how much time passed, but soon I stopped and all the emotions in me froze up, it felt like a barely burning pile of wood after it burned the whole night and now only the last few sparks remained.
When I turned around and looked with my dead eyes to whoever might be watching me, I realized that there were quite a few people there, including my son. Feeling very tired all of a sudden, with my right thumb and index finger I wiped my closed eyes. They felt moist. I must have cried a lot but I do not even give a shit right now.
In front of all of them stood the shaman that was supposed to not make something like that happen. “Wha... what the fuck happened here?” I asked with my eyes still closed and felt a boiling rage build up slowly in me. “HOW?” I raised my voice and demanded an answer.
The man before me answered with a terrified voice. “S-sir, I have no explanation for that. She s-simply... I have no idea, she just.. Her heart just stopped.”
“Bull fucking shit.” I infused my fighting spirit with the boiling rage and blood lust that I was feeling right now and covered all of the present to feel the crushing weight of it on their bodies and minds.
I stood up and saw all who were before me stiffen up and some even fainted. Slowly I walked towards the shaman and enjoyed the moment as he probably knew what would come next, but could not do anything against it. He was strong enough to move, but he knew that he would not come far... “Again... How did it happen? Were you paid by anybody? What reason would you possibly have to kill my crippled wife?” My face was struggling to find a balance between rage, confusion and sadness. “I see my son is still fine, so it makes no fucking sense to me!” I shouted at him.
No idea if it was a political move or he is just a traitor, but it mattered little to me right now.
He was just shaken to the core and would only speak in incomplete sentences that it was not him and he had no idea, that he would never do anything like that.
With the claw on my index finger out, I slashed his throat open and grabbed him by his hair as he trashed around and looked in horror at me. “Yes, this isn't a wound you should be able to easily heal...” With the hand that I used to slashed, I put 3 of my fingers into his warm flash and put them around something long and fleshy, his tongue. With a shaky and furious but still contained for the ritual voice, I spoke the words: “For lying and deceiving. For treason on your own race your voice shall be lost for ever.” With force I pulled on his tongue and broke the muscle that held it inside his mouth until it finally let loose and came out of his neck, looking like a bloody tie that hung down and wobbled slightly.
This was a traditional for of execution in our race, the second worst one. One where your voice might be lost before the gods, but you still have some honor unlike the other one. But now comes the part where I have done my duty and can let loose of my rage.
With all reason lost in me my fist rained down on his in horror painted face. I wanted to do it as fast as possible, he had still some minutes before he would bleed or pass out, I needed to enjoy this.
At least those were my last thought before I lost myself in my animalistic nature and no longer hit hit with my fist but used my claws to slash his flesh and torment his body.
Not even when I saw the light in his eyes go out would I stop and savored every moment of my sweet revenge.
'Darling, you might rest in peace now.' I thought and looked up.
“Gather the slaves.” I told the present here and glanced once over my horrified son that hid behind his caretaker. 'Pathetic' I thought, he even wet his pants. Nevertheless, I continued with a disgusted face. “I want to know who was with her when it.. when she died.” There were still a few that needed to be punished.
In the next few days the city was decorated with some corpses of slaves. No backlash was given from the residents, everyone accepted my rage and treated it as natural.
….........................................................................
My nightmares returned worse than ever.
They were not more graphic, nor were they objectively worse than the ones before and yet still I could not help myself but feel that something was coming.
It was always the same: Me standing there, feeling dread and an absolute loss of hope while about 20 meter of me away stood my adult son and grinned madly at me. Nothing else.
Yet, watching the same over and over again and feeling that weakness put me really on edge.
With every night gone, I would feel my sanity fade away and feel that something coming. It did not help that I soon notice that my son would always come just a tiny bit nearer every night.
'Just why did I do to deserve it? What cruel games are the gods playing with me?' Those were the questions that plagued me every day.
No longer did I feel any joy, having lost my wife I became bitter and did not see any meaning in anything. I would only drink myself to sleep or go to war, there was nothing else. The funny thing about this was that each night when I was drunk and cried my eyes out, I would pray that my nightmares would disappear for just one night, maybe I could get my shit together if I had only 1 good night sleep but to no avail.
Almost one year passed now and I just returned from another battle that I did not really remember. If there was one thing that was good about being strong, then it was that you could go to battle with 3 schnapps bottles in your blood and still somehow came back alive. Now if it was a good or bad thing we will see later on.
“Sir Myles!” I saw the woman that took care of my son reach out for me. “Please! Today is your sons birthday, he is crying nonstop and does not understand why you did not visit him. Maybe you could...”
I sneered. Now he is also a crybaby. As if I have not enough problems already.
I saw that he was barely visible behind a corner and watched me fearfully.
I felt disgust in me. So this little shit does not even have the balls to tell it himself and hid behind her skirt. With a voice that was loud enough for him to hear, I told them. “Tell that little crying shit that I will take the belt if he isn't gonna man up and will beat it into him. Worked wonders with me and maybe it is time for him.” I put a bottle to my lips and enjoyed the disgustingly bitter taste of heavy alcohol that would make me numb and ease the pain, and went to sleep in my room.
Another night filled with nightmares.
I remember how it all started with my son standing far away from me and he slowly came near. 'Maybe it is not so bad' I told myself, but now as I see his mad face right next to mine as he stands millimeters away from me and his bad breath tickles my nose.. it is bad.
Always would he not do anything and just stare, it made me calm and terrified at the same time, it makes you question what the fuck is going on, and there is this anticipation of something that might happen. So it should be no surprise that when today he actually started to move, my heart beat went of the charts.
At first he started to circle around me and only watched me madly as ever. Then he moved close to my ear and whispered. “Do not worry... very soon it will be all over, you will have done your duty.”
What was the meaning of all of this? I just did not even know anymore.
Slowly his grin grew and his madness materialized itself in a frightening aura that made me feel powerless and insignificant.
Once again he began to speak and I saw his finger slowly coming near to my face. “Are you ready father? It is finally time. Time for this horrible world to fall to my feet, to be embraced by war and terror and to crumble down for it is fundamentally wrong and terrible. Wrong just like you father and both you will share the same fate!” Now beyond terrified I was touched by him as I felt the finger on my skin and it felt beyond real. I n no way was this tocuh just my imagination, so I put all my power in my imagination and as such I pushed him off me with all my power.
“AHHHH!” I screamed and opened my eyes still not in my right mind and having no idea where I was. Covered in sweat and clenching onto my chest, I looked around. It was my room. It was all just a dream.
Is what I wanted to say but my ears caught another scream.
Laying near my commode was my son. He was turned away from me and I heard him scream in pain and cry. Immediately I recognized what might have happened and that it could me me that pushed him away and so I ran the few steps up to him to see if he was hurt badly.
My arm touched his shoulder and my sons body jerked away, like a hurt animal he cried out and turned around, still on his fours on the ground.
Lighted up by a small crystal, I saw the room and his face... I saw my dagger, a weapon that I would use often in very close combat and one that I laid down on my commode the night before. That weapon was now sticking out of the face of my son. The hilt was on his lower lip and split it completely up diagonally so it hung down as no muscle could hold it in place. Behind it one of his teeth was gone and the blade cut deeper inside of his mouth and inside of his flesh. Finally the blade came out on the left side of his upper cheek with the bloody and pointy end sticking upwards.
My son cried and screamed for help but did not dare to do anything as every movement rewarded him with horrible pain that was probably to much for a four year old to handle.
Slowly I came forwards and tried to calm him down and almost stumbled as I was still drunk.. “Tshh tshhh, calm down, I will have to take it out now.” With my hand I reached for the short blade but saw the horrified eyes of my son and saw him fall further away from me as he cried out once more.
“I will need to do it now. We have to do it fast or it will hurt much more later. Just... believe your father!” My guilt was tearing on me and I wanted to help him, but my son would not let me do it and would only whine and scream.
Like a little bitch.
“I will have to be forceful then, sooo.. just be calm and shut up.” My hand reached the hilt of the dagger and my son no longer had any room to run away so he could only swing his head around as to not let me get a hold of the blade that was sticking out of his head.
I finally managed to got a hold of the blade and tried to pull it back but the little shit got a hold of my arm and desperately did not want it to happen. He started cry louder than ever, alarming probably every neighbor I had.
“be quiet, come on just do not be such a little bitch, just shut up!” I pulled on the blade and saw the blood flow out of his mouth stronger than before accompanied but his even louder crying. “Just be quiet.” I pulled a little harder and could not help myself but damage him further as his head was shaking from side to side because the boy was so horrified. 'why can't he just do what I tell him to do?' I asked myself and felt unexplained rage boil in me. “Shut up. Stop moving! Just shut up. SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I lost my cool and backhanded my son in his other cheek and send him flying.
My mind was now in complete turmoil. I did not see right and wrong and could only watch my son with one cheek red from my palm and the other bloody and almost cut completely as the blade slashed even more inside of his mouth, it now looked like the lower and upper half were held together by a small piece of flesh.
My body moved on its own as I got to him and held his head in place. Now that so much damage was already done, I could open his mouth and take the dagger out without problems, despite him still crying out like a rape victim.
“See.” I showed him the bloodied dagger, I held it in front of his eyes and smiled. “It is over. No reason to cry now, right?”
But I was not right. My son continued to cry and whine louder than I thought was even possible.
No longer feeling any need for the dagger, I just let it fall to the ground and with my fingers I pulled the almost severed cheeks of my son together. “See, nothing big of a deal. Some stitches and gonna be like new.” But he still only cried and wanted to get away from me.
Out of nowhere paranoia hit me as I understood what the scene must have looked like. “Hey, it was not my mistake. It was you who sneaked into my room at night like a thief or something. So stop crying.” But he did not. “Hey, do you want to make me look like a bad father? Do you want your mother to hate me? Do you, you little shit?”
My hands slowly covered his mouth. “Stop crying or others will misunderstand.” But he did not. For whatever reason he was now even more terrified and tried to get away from me, but I held him into place. “Hey, I get it. I was wrong, so let's get it behind us and start over again. We will spend some quality time together and your mother won't hate me, okay?” With both of my hands pressed over his lips and nose I continued. “Do you want others to think badly of me? Just shut up.” Before my mind could even process it, my hands were already gripping his tiny neck as tightly as possible and choking him.
A tiny voice in my mind was asking itself why I was doing but only got quieter while my hands did not stop while my mouth only screamed. “SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Again and again with more power in my voice and my hands each time those words came over my lips. This was a very twisted way of mine to “cope” with the unforeseen situation.
Beneath me he was now red in his face, beside the obvious blood and swelling. He was desperately holding my hands and looking up to me, pleading for me to stop, but my mind was already past that point.
'It was an accident. Yes, I will burn him and will get over it, nobody will know.' My mind was already making plans for what would to come. I twas so broken and tired that I lost all reason and logic was alien to me.
With the corner of my eyes I saw him reach for the dagger that laid down next to us and my now perverse mind was only laughing. 'With your level of attack, you won't even do real damage to me.'
I saw his eyes slowly turn from fear into cold determination as he watched me and I remembered my dreams. 'So you want to take my life you little beast?' I thought and put more effort into strangling the life out of him.
But in the next moments I was proven terribly wrong. My sons eyes and blade burned in a darker flame of high intensity and he slashed it upwards, towards my neck and to my astonishment it passed my skin and muscle like butter.
“Nrghbbbfh” I lost the ability to speak and my lungs desperately reached out for air but only got more blood pumped into them. I stumbled backwards and got away from him while trying to hold my blood inside of my body. Quickly I began to lose my life despite my high level that did nothing to help me now.
In my last moments I saw my son finally calmed down. His eyes wide and he expression sharp, he watched me while slightly trembling and holding my dagger with both hands in front of his chest while the bleeding flesh was hanging down from his face.
….............................................
Somewhere high above the ground the deity with the name of War was watching this scene unfold and could not help himself but break up in laughter. So much preparation for this one moment...
It had to be done subtly and with a lot of preparation. The minds of children are frail and the trauma had to be applied carefully or it would have the opposite effect of breaking the child. Now he saw what madness was. Now his awareness of his own weakens awakened and would soon be followed by a search for power.
And he would need a lot of that... the path he would need to take would mean he would go a way no one has ever gone before. He would need to do what even War could not.
“Haha, finally. And so your descend into madness begins.” His grin grew wider as he uttered the name of the person that would shake this world. “Kratos.”
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For anyone reading: I dropped this.
Got a new and better idea but still a nice prologue though.