Memories serve all sorts of preordained purposes, but become redundant. My drive has been inevitably involved in the history of one race. One I've been around with from then and now. They made machines, art, and even life.
Humans, a difficult species to comprehend, with unusual intellect and great power, their bodies provide them with well-rounded and versatile abilities. It’s almost as if they serve as a strangely special existence as I may. I look just like them too, and in technicality I am one of them, but not by their definition; they always marveled at my presence and asked me, “are you a ghost?” “a demon?” “a devil?” “a god?”
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The Second Chapter
725-718 years B.Z.
Zidonius, that was my new given name.
Years had passed by like flipped pages and I had changed considerably. I climbed to the height of around 90 centimeters and grew black hair that draped down to the nape of my neck. My facial features had became defined enough for others to wonder what I would grow into, appearance-wise.
But socially I hadn't developed. I was never able to talk to anyone because Terisius never allowed it. Even if I could, I had a very small grasp of the language in my earlier toddler years and people would simply stare or gawk at me.
How everyone reacted to my strange appearance induced in me unease that built up over years, so in my own pure-hearted curiosity, I walked up to Terisius once, when I was of three years, and asked him, “Why am I hated?”
He simply reprimanded me though, as he always had, “You shouldn't be worried about that. You're not supposed to be talking to anybody.”
He was strict, never allowing me to travel beyond the premises of his property, and would punish me if I would do so. With a simple whipping or paddling, he'd be done with it. But oftentimes in a sort of immature yet innocent rebellion, I'd wander off, chasing after mysterious insects and animals or striking up conversations with wandering strangers.
Afterwards he'd practically hunt me down, wring me by the neck, and drag me back home, but I still continued with my antics. It was like a tradition. I know that he didn't want my mind to be polluted by strangers, but at the time I thought nothing of it.
Terisius was a stoic man, seemingly disciplined at all times, and he emitted a powerful atmosphere, but beneath the visage of a battle-hardened warrior and commander, I had come to see the sly man that revealed himself from time to time. I remember when he met with political enemies and weaved through their dangerous words in such exquisite ways that made them speechless. He had a way with words, just as the legends said about Fae.
My days consisted of schooling when I was around two years old. Terisius began teaching me the languages of which he spoke: Lathian, the standard in Lathia, and Crotzi, of the Renuans. They were fairly different. But I grasped them to his level of fluency when I turned three. He was terrified at first, yet was quick to celebrate in joyous revelation.
“A genius! He's a genius!” He threw his hands in the air. When he wrapped up his small celebration, he caressed my cheek and said softly, “You will change everything." His hands were callous, yet warm.
Despite his shortcomings, he holds nostalgic moments that still warm my heart.
He was my father.
Course I never called him that. Thought I hadn't the permission to.
He hired tutors for me the following month. I was glad at first since I finally had others to talk with, but it became apparent that they were hired on entirely strict regulations.
“On with the lesson.” They'd utter the same dull nonsense.
I grew impatient of their slow, painful lessons and began studying in isolation, relinquishing them of their books and papers for my own. It made me feel free, a luxury I rarely held. Terisius soon ceased hiring tutors when I was four, when he realized that they were unnecessary assets, and when he noticed their inventory were going missing. He turned his attention to books, investing in them upon discovery of my interests, and provided me with a small library to quench my thirst for knowledge. I read both fiction and nonfiction, learning history and myth. The filled my head with the ways of the world, of the country, the norms, and many other things.
I was a young scholar.
But these were things I only knew in books and never experienced. I was naive, but these writings taught me my early philosophies and ideals.
I developed an interest in heroic fantasies where heroes saved damsels in distress or protected the world from catastrophic dangers. Classic fairy tales. At my core I was still a little child and was, again, naive.
Of course, Terisius only supplied me with text he wanted to have serve as a foundation of myself and personality. His expectations of me were my drive. I wanted to satisfy Terisius, fulfill whatever he had set for me, and live up to his name.
I didn't want to be abandoned, tossed away like trash.
I lived on a world called Erath, occupied by billions of lifeforms. The state or nation I lived in was called Warsa, and around us were other small nations. All of it resided in a large peninsula named Lathia. Most states, including Warsa, had a sub-democratic oligarchy.
An early form of democracy formed during the Dissonant Age, and made popular during earlier times when the greatest nation, Othens, was at the peak of its glory.
Common people would vote for Senators to represent them in the Assembly. Senators would then vote to elect any known Fae to become king and continue the next line of royalty. Terisius was a bastard child of one of the old dead princes and was born Fae. He had some claim to the throne, but not enough to compete with the other princes.
The role of a Fae is a special one anyhow.
They have the ability to change the world, for better or worse, and are truly chosen by the Gods themselves. Even I know this. They could either inherit the Fae bloodline or receive it through God's will, but those connected by blood either had it in its full capacity, or none at all. There are reasons why people become Fae. Being son of a great king just increased one's chances.
I wondered what purpose Terisius held as Fae.
He was once a general who held great power and influence, but something happened and he experienced a great fall. After returning from a great battle, he was suddenly accused of countless crimes and his status plummeted. Despite that, he still held strong connections with royalty and the high ranks.
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I was always curious, because what happened to him was a great big void in the history books. Barely anything was ever recorded of his situation.
It was then I realised, I couldn't rely on books, because they were written by humans. Only those who emerged victorious write the history.
I never spent entire days immersing myself in books. Following my 5th birthday, after reading for three or four hours, Terisius pulled me out of my room at around twelve or one o’clock, and thrust me into an empty field of sand and rock. An arena. It was then my training began
What followed would be the most extraneous and painful exercises even full grown men would faint to.
Under the watch of the hot sun, I'd be crudely exposed to the martial ways. The first part of my given regime required me to first train my body. Early in those stages, it was discovered that some of my basic attributes were well above the natural human's, but were impossible to change. Whenever my muscles ripped apart, they would return to their original form, without change. The only changes my body had was its natural growth and early aging.
I was instead subject to direct combat and training under the tutelage of Terisius and his warriors.
I wasn't taught specifically the martial arts of the Warsen surprisingly, which focused mainly on a strategy called the phalanx.
I ultimately was taught techniques that suited a lone warrior, either against single or multiple combatants. With sword, shield, spear, bow, dagger, etc., I had to master every weapon in the Warsen arsenal and more. I fought with a mere goblet, a clay vase, a glass shard, etcetera. I was required to learn how adapt myself in almost every possible scenario. A pack of wolves were released upon me; I cut them all down. A bear mauled me; I pierced its heart. A landshark from beneath the sand; I wailed on it with a goblet and cracked its skull with a fragile vase.
Everyday there was something different, and everyday ended in either success or failure. If I was fully incapacitated during a battle - with my head blown or decapitated for example - Terisius and his warriors would retrieve me from the field. If I failed a battle I'd just train and face it again the next day.
“Zidon,” Terisius would say, “You hold the solution to almost all of mankind's wants: immortality.”
Everyday he expressed that, and that I “had to take advantage” of the merits my undying vessel could provide. I would call it abuse, but he was only training me and I have no grudge against that. It helped me attain a maturity early, which I didn't know was something I needed very soon.
Advancing beyond the stages of combat, I thought I was finally finished, but it was only the beginning. One day, I was resting on the sand, its grains soaked deeply with blood, and Terisius tossed a big practice dummy at me, waking me up. He ordered me, “Protect it.” Then he set loose the same things I was subject to before and more, beginning with his warriors. I faced many more failures during this stage, but learned how to properly handle a shield and how to become one.
“If your head's gone how the hell are you supposed to protect anything?” he and his rough men would say.
They were right though. If my body was crippled in any way or if I was incapacitated, I couldn't do anything. I had to stay as intact as possible in order to keep my protectee safe.
When I had finally reached the age of seven years, following two years of arduous training, something finally happened in my life.
I had just finished a sparring session with a group of warriors. They were exhausted and bruised like beaten dogs, but I was at peak condition, showing no signs of exhaustion nor injury aside from the ragged training garb I had adorned.
“Zidon!” Terisius called me from the sidelines, “Come here.”
Although, curious, I held a calm demeanor and came over to him.
He was propped on the wall, laying back all lax and unmoving.
“Yes, sir?” I answered.
He didn’t answer, but looked at me, deep and thought, and smiled lightly.
"Sir?"
“All these years and you've never called me father?” He sighed dramatically.
I didn’t know how to react. I was shocked. What he said was true. The word ‘father’ or ‘dad’ weren’t in my diction. “I uh- apologize s- fa-father,” I stammered. If it was like that, I wondered what he thought of me all those years. A son?
But that was the first time he brought anything like that up, and I instantly knew something was different.
Terisius smirked amusingly and chuckled.
“No matter,” he voiced, his eyes sparking as they skid past mine. “It's time.”
My eyes widened and sparkled. “It’s time? Time for what?” I asked, my excitement sprouting.
For those past seven years, I was enjoying life in its infancy, reading books and training to the fullest, but I felt that there was a purpose to it all - like all those famous heroes in those books - and he was preparing me for that purpose. My existence had meaning and he was going to give me one.
He stood up. “It’s time for you to discover your purpose.”
He knew exactly what I was thinking. I was so thrilled. I was opening up a present and seeing exactly what I wanted: purpose.
“Come,” he said, “Follow me.”
He turned and walked away, beckoning me to trail after him.
I dropped my practice sword immediately and darted after him. It was quick, abrupt, and I was also quick and abrupt, eager to leave that place, eager to obey him like a dog.
His loyal and undying dog.
It was the first time in my life, to walk outside alongside him, with his undeniable permission no less. I was so… happy. I was able to venture outside and relish among the green, wild grass under the beams of the vibrant sun. The sky was clear, the wind was breezy, and there was no fear of punishment, training, or rule.
I was cheerful and carefree for that little time, and I actually began to call him ‘father’. I danced amidst the blades of grass as I trailed after him.
“Father,” I called him.
He paused and twirled his head towards me.
“Yes, Zidon?” His eyes were brimming with adoration for the first time, and pride.
“Do you know what I am?” It was a question I held in for the past seven years and I felt it was about the right time to ask.
He patted my head and answered, “Yes I do.”
He continued walking.
“You are the change.”
I stood still.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Something you need to discover yourself.”
I sighed. It was yet another mystery I had to solve.
“Come, or I'll leave you here.”
We stopped in front of a small set of stables. His horse was already outside and tied under the shade of a small tree.
“Zidon, jump on,” Terisius said as he propped himself unto a horse.
He never taught me how to ride those brazen beasts.
With little effort though, I hopped up on behind him, jumping unto the horse at a height seeming inhuman to others for my little size.
He looked at me strangely and laughed. “I still can't get used to you,” he said.
“Hold on though, we're departing.” I watched as he handled the horse. He tapped the heels of his feet on its sides and whipped the reins, causing the horse to lurch forward and immediately break into a gallop. I would've fell off if I didn't grab onto him at the last moment.
It was strange. Rarely was he ever this nice, this caring, this... loving. It was like a small break from the past half decade of constant work.
We journeyed for an hour or so, and he was silent as I was mesmerised by my surroundings.
I was in utter awe of the beauty that were the grasslands. It was like a classic, fantastical, and picturesque scene that could only be seen the books of myths and legends. The sun shone high in the sky, smiling upon the denizens of Erath, lightening up the world, never domineering, never overbearing, casting away the darkness. It was almost as if the Lumex, the God of Light, was in our presence. The vibrant and green grass swayed before the light breeze and glittered under the sun. It was peaceful.
We were about to climb a small hill when Terisius spoke up, “Zidon… Child.” He kept his nose facing straight ahead, unable to turn his head towards me. “I'm sorry you never had a decent childhood.”
I was confused. “A childhood?”
“Or a decent father.” He laughed out loud to himself. “Ah, but I'm glad you still remain oblivious.”
“Oblivious? Father I-” before I could speak up we reached the top of a hill, and what was revealed silenced me. Shining in wide expanse, was the glorious city of Warsa.
“Warsa,” Terisius said and sighed deeply. “It's been awhile since you've been here.”