Murai was close to freedom. A clutch or a swing away, actually. He flew through the air, with his beak as a tip. His vision was upon a hole in the middle of this well, eyeing the freedom and starry sky alike.

He should be there. It was so close to his eyes. Murai used everything, including his bloodied wings that at the last moment, pushed his body a push further. It was still a useless pattern since they didn't work, but perhaps it did something. They weren't stimulated by the Bloodrush enough for them to work properly. All that he was able to do was to put his whole body strength towards his legs, leaping towards life with his little feet.

Was it enough? Yes, it was. Murai reached the edge of the well, where stones were glued together by some sort of made-up cement. All of them were looking dry, making it so that only a small section in the middle was open for the bucket. At the section underneath the done were small holes for the running water from the surface, but they were small openings.

His beak opened up, clutching the stone surface upon striking the edge successfully. Pushing his beak close Murai bit the edge, but the stone wasn't like the ones under the water. This was a tougher and smoother version of that stone and quite dry. Because they weren't under the water for too long, their properties were a bit different. He secured himself for a moment, thinking he will swing himself up easily but Murai was unable to use proper control over his strength. Seeing the close surface put his mind at unease. His clutch over the stone was way too big, which ended up cracking the stones.

Slowly, he was slipping with his grip, causing him to panic, as further helplessness caused Murai to grimace. He could only watch as he kept slipping, while at last, the rock turned to many pieces until he fell.

He was falling back to the water, but not the edges. It went right towards the middle of this well, because the hole was in the middle of it. Murai felt naive, or helplessly hopeful. He thought he would change it somewhat, but his body gave up, while the mind didn't. He didn't know how, however... The well was like a fall to a volcano. Helpless and easy to End oneself within it.

Yet this time, he won't drown immediately. It was because of his feathers that were no longer filled with water and filth. The moment he resurfaced from the water, the water escaped from them, letting them dry up in a couple of moments. It pushed water away from his body, letting his feathers be a bit fluffy once again. The moment he leaped from the air, there was a tingle of heat, and flame within some of them.

Murai didn't notice it, but the Bloodrush made some other changes that were hidden from him. For example, the drying of his feathers, which was... useful?

So, as Murai fell, he was watching the hole close, yet distances away. He wasn't gliding through the air, but falling like a rock with his back falling down first. Watching the night sky full of stars was a satisfactory End to this try, which he thought was quite passable and he did his best so there was no need for regrets. He couldn't reach the skies again, nor walk towards them, but that was enough.

With a splash, he fell back into the water. He couldn't care less about the fall, nor that he was floating on top of it.

Murai knew he was over his chances. Only a couple of seconds later, the Bloodrush ended, causing a vigorous amount of demonic energy, bloodline powers, and strength to escape his body. The flaring energy that came from within him with the price, escaped his body. It was as if a power switch went off. At one moment, he felt full vigor, and the next, he felt utmost nothing. His heart almost couldn't make it, but because of his powerful Will, Murai was able to watch everything with distinct feelings. The Beast Core within his body almost crumbled down, and the painful end of the Bloodrush penetrated his innards.

In his mind, Murai prepared for immense pain. It came with a cruel rush, but it was twice harsher as he expected and twice as lower in a couple of moments. Most of his muscles that were forcefully put together, were torn apart once again. In fact, because of the lowered Vitality, even those which weren't previously torn were ripped apart as well. Let alone the bones that were forcefully put together, yet remained broken, became a tangled mess again.

The pain that was caused by the muscles was enough for Murai to scream. Albeit, he couldn't utter a thing as his Robust Spirit shook his Will, causing it to be the negligible premise. It was automatic, and Murai felt he deserved this pain because of his failure. He felt helplessness as weakness overlapped his body as if it was the end of his life.

It definitely felt like that, because it would be no wonder. Razmund already destroyed a significant portion of his body, so the ability to restore such damages would be quite extravagant, or fairly easy. A couple of dozen of Vitaliy would work wonders, but he doubted it would come all of a sudden like Water-Breathing and Bloodrush.

His legs turned limp once again, but the pain of losing the feel of them didn't come to his mind. In fact, Mural felt like accepting this situation and his inability to reach the surface. It was like a game he failed, so whose fault was it that he ended up like this? His? Razmund's?

Since he indeed did his best, so why be mad at himself or others? Was he mad? Of course! He was livid!

He cursed within his mind so wildly at those pieces of rocks, which fell down along with his descent, that he couldn't stop until he reached the limits of his vocabulary. His mind was fine as it could be. The backlash from the Bloodrush didn't destroy his life completely. It just put his previous problems to another level.

That was, that he couldn't do much any longer and he became crumbled bloodied mess. His body was broken much more than before. His feathers become bloody from all the reopened wounds and ripped muscles that moved his feathers apart. He kept floating on his back in the water, thinking of what to do next as he was unable to move. Perhaps he will starve to death? That would be the End he didn't meet yet.

Stars... I see you and met some of you, I reckon. Now, look at me! Floating on the water before you... Maybe it was really the dirt and filth that did this to me?

He thought of the reason when he no was no longer drowning. It was good, but how long it will last? Murai felt the blood seeping from his wounds, turning his feathers bloody. Sooner or later, he will begin to drown again, and this time, he won't be able to do anything about it. He couldn't move his body, so he kept watching the starry sky from a few meters away, which was a distance, as large as a mountain for the current him.

It was such a small distance in any shape or form, but what could he do? With the end of the Bloodrush, he felt his Vitality seep out of his body. He didn't lose half of it, but it was still a large amount of life power that he lost. He felt sick to his stomach, but even that became useless as nothing much was uninjured.

He kept floating, unmoving below the hole. At some point, some clutter resounded beyond the hole, but Murai wasn't paying attention to it. Neither he noticed that some eyes were watching him from above. He was numb to this since he rather wept over the numb feelings of his undeniable failure. It went without much thought put behind it.

This went on for some minutes of eery silence. His body was starting to descend down below, as his inability to move, made it so.

Suddenly or not, Murai was oblivious, or he didn't care about splashing water beside him. A bucket fell down from above, coincidentally lifting him up from the water. A rope was attached on top, which someone pulled to get him up.

The one who was beyond the hole in the sky was just some kid's silhouette. At some point down his descent, Murai already closed his eyes, but upon noticing some movement, he opened them. It was about the only physical reaction he could force, while anything else was like asking a limbless person to do jumping jacks.

Above him, in the starry sky was a face he saw not so long ago.

Similarly, the kid was also someone who saw Murai before. It was Timmy, who looked at the bloodied duck in the water bucket meant to take the water from the well.

“W-what is this? I heard that you died in the hands of Falconers, little unlucky duck. Why were you there in our water?” Timmy asked, oblivious to the information that villagers said to him. He wasn't lucky and fearless enough to watch the fight of these Falconers, so he didn't know what this duck went through. He knew just enough of what some villagers knew.

Timmy looked around in fear of someone watching him. He decided to let Murai hide in the bucket. It was deep at the night, so there weren't a lot of people around. Some even said that he shouldn't walk, or be near the well. In a fear of demons or whatnot, some villagers were angry at the well and misfortune that befall them. Some buildings were obliterated, so their anger was more than apparent.

Timmy didn't notice anyone. With something suspicious like this duck, he wasn't one to be impatient over something this interesting. In the midst of the night, someone tasked him to take water from the well, or a more distant river. Of course, Timmy chose the well since it was the closest thing and he wasn't fearful of a duck that others considered to be a demonic being.

He did so not because he didn't have a choice, but because he wanted to. Coincidently, he noticed Murai's fate.

Before, Timmy noticed and heard some splashing sounds of the water. By sheer luck of fate, he looked at the well that was quite tall for him. The curved dome made of stone enabled adults to work with it, but with some tries, even Timmy can take water from there. As for looking down below, he could only jump toward the hole where he saw a rather surprising sight. A falling duck towards the water, and pieces of rocks that went along with it.

The lady luck was on Murai's side.

Timmy checked Murai's limp body many times, fearful for some reason that it was already dead. Upon closer inspection, it appeared he was somewhat familiar with checking some things, like breath or even heartbeat. He noticed them and movement within Murai's eyes was still somewhat alive. Murai's body was beyond its limits. He was just a limp doll, with no ability to do anything. At some point, he even closed his eyes, because a strong sense of weakness overlapped his mind and he wanted to rest. Even if his Will was strong, one's mind can be prone to tiredness. Murai fell unconscious.

Timmy wondered what to do with this strange duck. Since he decided to put it from the well, he felt a kind of responsibility over its fate. He couldn't force himself to drop it off somewhere and forgot about it. He wasn't that kind of a person.

Thinking about his choices, he also went over the story of what happened here not so long ago. This duck was sought by the heretic witch that sometimes visited this village. That was very interesting to Timmy, who wasn't afraid of such stories or witches. As for heretics? They weren't that. The Centralis Kingdom said that. Not him.

In fact, who in their right mind would care about demonic ducks? Falconers did in Timmy's opinion, but he found it more funny and interesting, than dangerous. So, he decided to take the bucket with him to his home. Hiding the opening with his hands so no one would see him, he hurried away from the well that was a home for Murai's significant struggle for his life.

Timmy went to a building that wasn't his, but it was his home regardless. It wasn't big, nor small, but it was warm and cozy and that's what mattered. He was careful to not meet the owner of this place. He would be most angry at him for taking this duck from the well, so at the tip of his feet, he entered the hallways and reached the further section of the house. He was as careful as to not utter a sound so he managed to enter a room in a lonely corner without alerting anyone.

It wasn't his room. It was his sister's room. Right now, the room was bright, filled with candlelight that was on the table. Aside from the table was a girl. She was sitting on a simple wooden chair and writing something in a book. Alongside here, a lot of apparatuses and magical tools were.

At first, she didn't notice the almost inaudible steps of her brother, indicating Timmy was quite familiar and good at being a silent walker. What she heard was the door that he had to shut, which made her glare at him in surprise.

“What took you so long?” She asked in surprise, glaring at him with a startled expression. “S-sorry sis. I... I think I found something interesting. I hope you won't get mad at me.”

“I am never mad at you, Timmy. What is it?” she asked, looking somewhat perplexed over something.

“You... You said to me you wanted to become a priest, didn't you? It was a dream of yours for a long time and you did it, right?” Timmy said, whispering almost all of his words to his older sister. She was quite older than him and was already an adult in this world. Even if she wouldn't, Timmy would think of her as such.

“I always said it to you. In fact, you already know I am that so why are you asking at this time? Have you got the water I tasked you with?” She asked, frowning upon discovering how Timmy is hiding the bucket with his hands.

“I... I want you to look at this, sis. Can you do that for me and not talk about this to a soul? Promise me that!” Timmy walked forward and showed her the content of the bucket.

His sister looked at it because he piqued her interest, but the content of the bucket was... kind of strange. A bloodied mess, along with feathers and the curled duck was inside.

“Is this some kind of joke to you? Where did you get this duck from at this hour?” she asked, not getting what he wanted from her, nor did she understand what was up with this duck.

“Y-you can heal it, right? I am not joking... this thing was bullied over something that didn't make sense. I saw it with my own eyes. It was quacking in pity and frustration, hoping its suffering would stop but it never did. Isn't this sad, sis Iris?” he asked while appearing quite sad, and unbothered by the consequences of his actions. In some strange manner, he even appeared proud of his actions.

Now, upon hearing his explanation, Iris understood what he meant.

“So, this is the duck that Uncle Lazar apprehended? I heard the Falconers were involved as well.” She said, folding her arms over her chest and glancing at Timmy rather than Murai who wasn't in a good state of mind to wonder about anything.

“Yes... You weren't here because of some other matters, but I saw it myself. I found it in this state flapping its wings in the well where those evil knights tossed it. I took pity on it as you taught me. Isn't this the teaching of the Vermillion Church that you talked about?” Timmy asked, filed and full of expectations and innocent intentions. He was a kid. A 7-year-old kid that wasn't in any shape filled with the filth of the world or experienced anything too harsh. That was, apart from having his kingdom obliterated by the Centralis Kingdom, but that was an issue of something else.

“Pity... Pity? Is this... that demonic beast then? This duck?” Iris asked, pointing her finger toward Murai while glaring directly at Timmy.

“Is pity also wrong to point at the demons?” Timmy asked, not knowing if that was the case.

“Well...” Iris started talking, but Timmy interrupted her.

“It is injured and I feel its right to help it!” he insisted.

“So you picked it up in hopes that I will treat it since you can't do it? Am I right?”

“Yeah. Pretty much. Will you help this duck? Pretty please!” Timmy pleaded with his eyes and it wasn't at least one bit faked. Iris could see that since she is the closest to Timmy out of everyone in the family. At 17 years old this year already, she held some responsibility to care for his younger brother and sister. Adding to her willingness to be a priestess, she was a good person that was attending the teachings of the Vermillion church that weren't part of any Centralis religions. It was part of the many other nations, with distinct views, power, and ability to stand even against the Centralis Kingdom.

Iris sighed, picking up the bucket with both hands and placing it on the table. “Does Uncle Lazar know about this?” she asked after turning her face to Timmy who appeared quite happy.

“No. I am Timmy the Slim-Timmy-Toes. Isn't it a great nickname? I came up with that on the spot, and Uncle never found me out!” He said, but this time, he exaggerated things a little bit in his favor.

“What about sis?” Iris asked.

“She... I didn't see her, but I hope this will be our secret. Are you fine with it?”

“I am not fine with anything Timmy and I don't want to get us both into trouble.” Iris dejectedly said, yet upon closer inspection of bloodied duck, hesitated. “Still, I will keep this a secret, but in return, you will help me with any kind of alchemy and things of priesthood for the next 5 weekends,” she said without a speck of shame. She was already lenient, and rather pure-hearted, yet she also understand what it meant to piss off certain people.

“Sure. Sure! I will do anything that you will ask me, sis Iris.”

“Really... How come you are so happy about this then... It's just a duck.”

“Yes. But it is a pitiful duck. That is a different duck from other ducks who feels indifferent and float in the middle of the lakes. It's like you who helped me from my bullies! Helping the weak is a teaching of priesthood too!” Timmy insisted with the honest intention that only a 7-year-old would have.

“Pitful... Alright. Get me another bucket, but this time, don't brink another duck, goose, or any kind of bird. Water is enough.” Iris ordered, after picking Murai from the bucket, eyeing him with some helpless since he was all bloody and she will end up like that too.

“Well, you will be a piece of work, even for me,” she mumbled, looking at Murai with a mysterious look.

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End of Book 1 - Dungeon

Next

Book 2 - Encounter