Chapter 31: Reflection

The youth and reanimated hand found themselves in a sparse living room with a few chairs and tables decorating the space. Not many other items filled the room, making it appear somewhat empty but somehow it found a way to feel…homely.

A fireplace decorated the interior, right in the middle of the furthest wall from Zan. It served as the main source of light yet its best feature was the warmth and comfort that it radiated. The youth took in a deep inhale, the smoke from the wood produced a calming scent that further relaxed the youth.

‘Gotta appreciate the little things in life.’

Zan walked over and sat on one of the chairs, assuming a sophisticated posture similar to "The Thinker." The flames of the last bastion(the fireplace) fought the darkness, and their silent battle accentuated the solemnity that appeared on his face.

Zan was thinking intensely about his third and fourth “dreams.” The orb, the spider, Mila, Quin, the living library and most importantly, the orb’s request.

The youth had trouble believing in the validity of any of those experiences to begin with but the evidence was smacked right in front of him. Looking at the grayish discoloration of his oddly heavy appendages, he could not just dismiss the plausibility of those dreams.

An idea popped up in his head. Going by Mila’s notes and his own experiences with Balon’s dragon manifestation, maybe all those dreams really did happen. Maybe those “dreams” were just experiences that took place in…what was it called? A higher layer of the universe? The same way he had to focus energy into his eyes so he could see things he normally couldn’t see, maybe those dreams happened in that same place. A place…that he couldn’t experience normally.

‘So…above what I can see and touch is basically things that I can’t see and touch. Kind of like ghosts.’

‘...I think.’

‘And if I am right and those dreams were real then…what do I do next?’

RUMBLE

Shadows flickered upon Zan’s face and they even seemed to have darkened for a moment. Grim emotion radiated out from the stern youth and his eyes radiated an even more intense seriousness. There was a problem that he faced here and now.

‘I…am…hungry!’

The youth walked over to a dark area of the living room, unilluminated by the light of the fireplace. As he prepared to focus energy into his eyes, the left hand sitting on his shoulder front-flipped onto the table. Hesitation welled up inside him and before he knew it, Quin had somehow lit the candle in front of him, brightening up his surroundings.

‘...I guess you were the one who lit up the fireplace and the candles.’

What he saw before him after the hand’s gracious act, was a small wooden dinner table accompanied by three worn out chairs. Zan paused for a moment at this arrangement…but he quickly dismissed his thoughts. The first thing that he was on the lookout for, was a large metal box. A divine thing that held cold but delicious foods that he had never seen before. Sadly, the youth looked all around the house but he could not find the thing.

In fact, he almost couldn’t find anything. There were no dried provisions or salted meat, no fruits or vegetables, not even grain that every village cabin home had. Zan searched and searched and just as was about to give up, he found a single peeled potato inside the last cabinet.

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‘Just one? Better than nothing…’

The youth grabbed the last potato and just as he was about to down the whole thing in a single ravenous bite, he felt the hand on his shoulder gripping him tightly. He felt confused. Did the hand want to eat it? Well, whatever. Out of kindness he offered the potato to Quin anyway.

‘It’s not like you can eat it hehe.’

Zan motioned the potato towards the reanimated hand.

“...Do you want it?”

The hand placed the flat side of its wrist onto Zan’s shoulder. The youth’s eyes went wide as the hand suddenly grew a hole on its palm with razor sharp teeth inside it. Half of the potato was quickly eviscerated by the rapidly rotating teeth. The rest of the potato, it seems, Quin was offering to Zan.

“...”

“...”

“...I’ll just find food outside…you can have the rest…”

The hand bounced in joy as it quickly eviscerated the other half of the potato. For but a brief moment, Zan heard the buzz of razor sharp teeth rapidly slicing the potato.

‘The world is a big place…’

The red haired, red eyed youth dejectedly walked to the door, he was still hungry after all. In his moment of sorrow, the youth forgot about his strength and broke the door once again. In response the hand looked towards him as Zan looked towards the hand.

“...”

“...”

“Let’s not talk about it…!!!”

…

The cold breeze of the night hit him as he stepped outside and Zan fully enjoyed every second of it. Observing his surroundings he found the cabin to be sitting upon a small hill, overlooking the rest of the Redrock Canyons. Vast flat empty lands combined with towering mountains and peaks showcased nature's natural beauty and grandeur. The youth even noticed a small forest of red-iron trees in the distance that deeply rooted themselves onto the hard ground and the mountains.

‘Red-iron…’

Turning backwards he found it interesting that the cabin was made of regular brown wood and not red wood, that could be found in abundance everywhere in the canyons.

‘Well, whatever.’

‘Where am I?’

While everything looked the same as his previous “home”, there were no slaves, no slavers and no slave city in sight. Zan could not even see the tallest iron peaks of Redrock canyon from where he was. Meaning that if he really wanted to…he could run from it all and live a new life. Only Mila and her goons could stop him from leaving but she had to be way too far away from him now…

A life without conflict, a life without slavery to which he had grown way too strong to ever keep living in. The youth could ditch this life altogether and live a new one. Maybe he’ll become a farmer like his parents. Or! He could become a mercenary or a bounty hunter. Even better…he could wander the world. Growing strong all by himself and reaching the summit of this world, achieving his childhood dream of becoming the literally strongest person to ever live. Perhaps his parents and his sisters would like him to live as he wanted, and to be happy. Maybe one day, his sisters might really be alive and he would meet them. The only thing stopping him from true freedom right now, was himself.

The youth took a step forward. Then he took two steps, then three. Zan sped up faster and faster until he was fully sprinting towards an unknown direction. As he sprinted he could feel the weight of his pale-gray appendages carrying him forward more than he liked. The teenage fighter was used to an equal balance in his body, but now every time he swung his arm or leg back during his run it would subtly throw him out of center.

‘Goddamn…’

…

Zan zoomed past his surroundings, everything seemed to fly past him with how insanely fast he was going. What was more incredible was that he had sprinted for almost half an hour yet he was still breathing calmly and effortlessly. The youth ran with all his strength before he released a frustrated look, suddenly slamming his right fist into the ground.

BOOM!

The impact from his new arm was so powerful that it formed a circular crater in the ground ten foot deep and fifteen feet wide. It was surprising, for the youth never imbued any energy into that strike, it was simply pure physical prowess. Zan took a look at the hole he had made in the ground because he, however, was unimpressed. He tried to keep stoic yet his face hid a deep unpleasant emotion.

There was one thing he couldn't remove from his mind. Defeat. Loss. The first time ever that he had lost in a fight. The wounded pride in the boy was not something that he was ready to move on from. While he ran, it felt like he was running away from the person who bested him, from the person who beat him. It made him feel like a coward and a loser. That same hole he made in the ground was what he was feeling inside him.

‘I won’t feel like me until I beat him.’

Zan looked at the direction he was running in and then at the direction he was running away from. Destiny was asking him directly what path he would choose. A new life with promising aspects or to plunge back into hell? Slowly…he turned his muscular back away from that new life and started heading back to the cabin. The youth walked away with purpose in his steps and his head held high. Each step bearing weight upon the Earth like a giant marching towards battle.

‘I’m gonna beat his ass.’

‘And then I’m gonna run away from that crazy but hot doctor, I feel no shame there.’

At that exact point in time, the strings of fate started to come apart, weave and connect once more. Zan didn’t know it, but this single decision had changed his whole life. A different path and a different life that was offered to him by the universe started to close. He awoke much earlier than Mila thought he would and even she had her own troubles that magically popped up to delay her. This single chance was his only blessing from the fates but the youth had chose his decision. The infinite possibilities converged into one, and then burst into another set of infinite possibilities. As the youth walked away however, he heard a loud snarl…