Volume 1: Chapter 2: Marinthal_The Eye of Fate: Thoth’s Revelation

Volume 1: Chapter 2: Marinthal

In the dimly lit, apocalyptic city, people filled the streets—some wandering, others collapsed, and many indifferently minding their own business.

A figure dashed through. A boy, wrapped in black from head to toe, made night his ally as he navigated the labyrinthine streets. A group of menacing thugs trailed closely behind. As adrenaline coursed through his veins, he weaved through the labyrinth of dilapidated buildings.

"Kill him before he escapes!" The thug leader barked.

The boy, displaying a remarkable agility and maneuvered through the treacherous urban landscape and crowds with finesse. The thugs, fueled by anger, continued to chase him, throwing things to try and stop him. The boy moved quickly and cleverly, weaving through obstacles, utilizing the broken carcasses of cars and scattered debris as impromptu shields.

Just when the thugs were about to catch him, the boy bent and took a sharp left turn, entering an alley between looming buildings. The thugs, though momentarily disoriented, quickly regained their composure and pursued the boy into the alley.

Lifeless figures with dead eyes, devoid of all hope, lay scattered on the ground. Broken drainage pipelines clung to the walls, and a few broken garbage bins, each with dimensions of 6x4x4, lined the alley here and there. These bins were filled with trash emitting a foul odor.

As he continued to run through the alley, he saw that the other end of the alley is connected to main road.

As he reached the three-fourths length of the alley, the boy swiftly retrieved an object from his coat and hurled it to the ground. The impact caused an explosive blast of white smoke, which enveloped the alley.

The thugs who are exposed to the smoke, coughed as tears brimmed in their eyes due to smoke. By the time the smoke settled down, they lost sight of the boy.

Coughs and curses erupted from the enraged thugs.

"Blast it! Where did that rat scurry off to?" Thug Minion1 bellowed.

"Ghah, ghah! This smoke! I can't see a thing." Thug Minion2 cursed while coughing.

"That kid won't get away with this. Spread out, find him!" Thug Leader yelled angrily.

The thugs dispersed into the main street out of the alley in search of the boy, leaving the eerie alley to its desolation.

*****

(Aster’s POV)

"I'm so glad they're a bunch of muscle brains," Aster muttered to himself as he observed the alley through the gaps in the garbage bin.

Ensuring that the thugs had truly gone. He pushed open the top of the bin, threw out the black trash bags that had concealed him. With a swift motion, he jumped out of the bin.

Then he took out a cloth bag from inside the garbage bin and opened it. From it he took out a large black disposable trash bag and opened it. He threw the bag he stole from the thugs on his back inside the trash bag. Then he quickly took off his cloak, pollution mask, black pants, black t-shirt, and shoes covered in dust from the smoke bomb, tossing them all into the trash bag.

He reached into the cloth bag, retrieving a pair of unmatched slippers and a set of beggar clothes—ragged pants and a shirt. Both garments bore the marks of wear and tear, with visible stitches. He quickly changed into them.

He took out a folded paper from the cloth bag containing dust and charcoal powder, rubbing it all over his body to obscure his identity.

Then he filled the disposable bag with all kinds of trash available near the garbage bins as camouflage and folded the bag in a knot.

Adjacent to the garbage bin, a trash-filled metal cart used in supermarkets was present. He quickly emptied the cart, swiftly tossing the disposable trash bag and cloth bag into it. He covered the cart with trash and packed trash bags filled with garbage he had previously emptied from the cart.

Having transformed from a black-clad thief to a trash-collecting beggar, Aster dusted himself off, tousled his hair, and seamlessly pushed the cart onto the main street footpath, blending into the crowd.

As Aster pushed his cart along the footpath, the thugs are vigorously searching the streets in groups, causing ruckus.

"Found him?" thug leader asked.

"No," frustrated replies echoed.

"Check the next alley," thug leader commanded, scanning.

"Maybe he doubled back?" someone speculated.

"Go trace the routes! He can't be far!" the leader ordered impatiently.

"But what if he's hiding nearby?" another thug questioned.

"Keep eyes peeled, check every corner. Don't let him slip!" the leader barked.

‘Keep searching in circles, morons,’ Aster snickered inwardly as he passed right under their noses.

Just when he thought he had eluded them, the thug leader who spotted him pushing the cart shouted, “Hey, kid, stop there.”

Aster's heart sank. ‘Damn, maybe I spoke too quickly?’ he cursed inwardly. But didn't show any panic on the surface; He kept moving forward as if he hadn't heard.

The thug leader walked briskly, catching Aster's shoulder, and asked menacingly, "I am speaking to you, kid. Why aren't you stopping?"

"A-are y-you speaking to me, sir?" Aster stuttered, turning to face the thug, feigning fear.

"Then who else?" the thug leader glared.

"Eekh!" Aster took a step back, covering his head with his hands as if to protect his face in fear.

"What are you pushing in the cart?"

"I-its just trash, sir," he spoke slowly, lowering his hands and looking at the thug leader.

"What are you doing collecting trash?"

"I -I thought maybe I can find something useful, s-so I was collecting it."

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Open it."

"T-There is nothing in it, sir."

“I said open it.” Thug leader howled.

“Y-Y-Yes.” Aster stammered, opening the trash bags one by one with shaking hands, a panicked expression on his face, trying to prove his innocence.

'His stature and height seem to be the same as the boy's,' the thug leader was skeptical.

Impatient, the thug leader ordered his minion, "Check them."

“Yes.”

They pushed Aster aside, causing him to fall to the ground.

They turned the trash bags upside down, emptying the contents one by one.

Aster stood up, trembling and seemingly in fear as he watched them conduct their search.

"Bad, bad, bad, danger, danger, danger," his mind screamed red alert as cold sweat poured down his back.

"What's happening here?"

"Don't know," murmurs echoed as people gathered around to check the commotion. Some curiously waited to see if the boy carried anything valuable in those trash bags.

Finally, the large bag containing the items Aster had stolen is opened, only to discover it was filled with trash. As they began to sift through it, one of the thugs urgently exclaimed, "Boss, we've got a problem!"

“What happened?” Everyone momentarily stopped to listen.

“The boy was a distraction. Someone attacked and stole our goods.”

"Curses! Why didn't they inform us?"

"No idea. They just sent a message over the walkie-talkie."

"Damn. Incompetent fools! Everyone, let's go. Back to the beach."

The thugs who were searching and those rummaging through the trash hastily retreated, leaving the bewildered crowd and Aster alone.

Onlookers lost interest as they realized the bags contained only trash and began to disperse from the scene.

‘Damn…that was so freaking close.’ Aster heaved a huge sigh of relief inwardly, gulped nervously.

He couldn’t begin to imagine what his fate if exposed just now or if someone noticed the content of his bags.

He quickly sealed the large trash bag, grabbed whatever he could to keep up the cover, and walked away, pushing his cart.

****

Marinthal, a coastal city marked by frequent earthquakes, has an uneven landscape with cracked pavements and skeletal structures. The city is divided into three zones: Government Facilities, Rich People Zone, and the rest of the city.

The central area, comprised of government facilities and the affluent zone, is encircled by the rest of the city, where dilapidated buildings lean dangerously or stand reduced to skeletons.

Streets are cluttered with trash and debris, sometimes used to form barricades and hiding spots. The air holds a mix of decay and salty sea breeze, adding to the desolation. Skies are filled with smog.

Abandoned cars and bikes litter the streets; people now navigate on foot. Marinthal houses around 70,000 people, with 30% of buildings empty from death or migration.

Children no longer attend school, growing up without formal education.

The city's health and governance have crumbled alongside its physical infrastructure.

Essential amenities are scarce, and electricity is a luxury, available only during nighttime for street lights and critical services like hospitals.

Homes rely on alternative, non-electric sources for basic needs.

Under the oppressive daytime heat, people stay indoors to escape the relentless sun.

Marinthal comes alive at dawn and dusk, with the populace emerging to scavenge and engage in clandestine activities under the cover of darkness.

The government and wealthy elites control industries and hospitals.

With scarce energy sources, factories operate on rationed power, limited to specific hours.

Factory owners compensate workers with meager provisions like food and amenities, as money has lost its value.

Along the ocean coast, some people rely on fishing as a primary means of sustenance.

Despite challenges, residents depend on the sea for food, trading fish and other marine resources within the community, although they are becoming scarce.

Skilled individuals use their craftsmanship to create handmade goods, repairing salvaged items or crafting new tools.

Artisans play a crucial role in contributing to the makeshift economy of the city.

The city is plagued with gangsters, groups fighting for territory.

Controlled by ruthless gangs, Marinthal is a battleground where factions vie for territory amidst the ruins.

Unused metro facilities, shopping malls, and underground railways now host clandestine activities controlled by ruthless gangs.

Skirmishes erupt regularly as they fight for the scarce resources left in the remnants of the old city.

Gangs impose a 'protection tax,' extorting food and supplies from residents.

Despite forming support groups, people have no choice but to comply as the gangs grow stronger.

Livelihoods are precarious, and people often resort to scavenging or engaging in illicit activities controlled by local gangs for survival.

Many residents scavenge for materials and salvage goods from dilapidated buildings.

Metal, wood, and any salvageable items become valuable commodities in this resource-scarce landscape.

Along the city's ocean coast, a vast dump yard covering one-third of the coastal line has taken shape.

*****

Aster pushed his cart along the coastal dump yard, illuminated by three moons. The ocean waves and creaking cart wheel echoed in the cold sea breeze.

He came to a stop in front of a run-down five-story building enclosed by a compound wall next to the ocean beach. There's an enormous pile of trash, obscuring the view of what lies beyond. Seemingly, behind the piles of trash lies a beach and the expansive ocean. Trash mountains are scattered across the area. Simply put, the building is sitting in between piles of trash.

The rusty main gate creaked as he pushed it open. He carefully moved the cart, hiding it next to a pile of trash. Just then, he saw a shadow creeping beside him.

Startled, his hand reached for the club placed in the cart. Quickly, he lifted the club, turned about assuming an attack posture while shouting, “Aaa…”

"Aaaa… stop it. It's me."

The person is a man in his 50s with a dandy appearance. His right arm is missing, and despite his masculine features and smart beard, he appeared thin due to a lack of proper food. He wore simple, worn, and stitched clothes.

"Blasted kid! Are you trying to kill me?"

"Are you trying to scare me to death?" Aster retorted, lowering the club, seemingly relieved.

"What are you doing late at night? Why are you so late?"

Before he can reply, the sound of a door slamming open and running footsteps is heard.

"Who is it? Why did you shout?" A slim woman in her 40s, with short hair and a scar on her left face, rushes over with an iron rod, shouting. Seeing Aster, she halts, wearing a blank expression.

"Mom, Father is scolding me." Aster ran and hugged her.

The dandy man's eyes twitched, unsure of what to say.

The woman caught Aster's ear, twisted it, and said, "What do you mean he is scolding? Should he be praising you for roaming late at night?"

"Ouch, ouch, ouch… Mom, it hurts. I am sorry. It hurts."

"Of course, it does. Do you know how worried we were?"

"Sniff, sniff, what is that smell?" She suddenly released his ear and covered her nose. "Why are you stinking so much? Did you sleep in a sewer or something? Why are you covered in soot?"

"Ouch… you are ruthless," Aster pouted while rubbing his ears but did not explain.

"Haaa... I will deal with you tomorrow. Go clean yourself up. I have put some water and clothes at the back."

"Ok. Ah, and don’t discard this cart. Leave it as it is."

“Ok”

Aster went to the back of the building, where he found a half bucket of water, a cloth, soap, rock salt, a basin, and a nightdress. He poured rock salt and some water into the basin, undressed, and cleaned himself thoroughly with the soapy cloth. After washing with two mugs of water, he dried himself with a towel. Putting the remaining rock salt in the bucket, he cleaned his clothes, squeezed them dry, and hung them on the ropes. Changing into worn-out night wears, he discarded the water, and brought everything inside the dark, electricity-less house. In the hall, his mother was waiting.

“Where is dad?”

“He went to sleep. Here, have this bun and water before you sleep.”

“Did you eat?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm...” Aster took the bun, tore it in half, and tossed one half to his mother.

“Hey, don’t throw the food. Why are you throwing it?”

“If I don’t throw it at you, you will not take it.” Saying that, he took the water glass and went into the kitchen, eating his half piece of bun.

“You eat it. I said I ate.”

“Hmm... you are lying. Share it with dad. Don't try to save it; it will go stale by tomorrow.” Saying that, he finished his bun, drank his water, and put the glass away. Then, with a loud yawn, he stretched his body. “I am sleepy. I will take my rest. Good night.”

She didn’t know what to say, feeling awkward. “Hey, come back here.”

But Aster did not listen and went upstairs.

“I will remember this. See how I deal with you tomorrow.” Feeling a bit frustrated, she sighed and got up to go to bed.

Aster climbed the stairs, reaching a room without a door. The room was dark, illuminated only by moonlight. A few kids slept on the floor with blankets covering their bodies and stitched, ragged pillows beneath their heads. The open windows allowed the cool breeze to flow in.

Approaching the window, Aster found his pillow and folded blanket. Unfolding the blanket, he covered himself, lying on the pillow. He gazed outside to see the fractured moon hanging in the sky. Despite his fatigue, sleep eluded him. He continued staring at the moon, reminiscing about his day, introspecting. After a few minutes, he slowly closed his eyes, using the night as a blanket, the moonlight as a bedside lamp, and the ocean waves, sea breeze, and cold winds as his lullabies, eventually falling into a deep sleep.

Volume 1: Chapter 2: Marinthal

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