In the end, this is a simple story. A story about a hero that doesn't survive and the path he followed to find his death. The tragedy of a boy whose name was stolen. The sorrow of a young man that sacrificed his loved one in order to save the worlds. The scream of a man that took the life of his teacher with his own hands. In the end, this is a simple journey. The journey to Bacis, The Land of the Gods.
A scream tore through the sky. "Oh! War has finally reached us!" cried the villagers while they fled, frightened, into the caves, the same ones they chose 10 years ago when war broke. Farmers, housewives, grandparents, children, all ran holding each other.
Except for one family. Illuminated only by the dim candlelight was a mother resting beside her newborn girl, her husband and firstborn son had gone into the forest to get some wood. The woman had just fallen asleep when she heard the scream; the wind lashing at the windows blew the candles off and startled the child who soon started to cry. Nor the cradles nor the lullabies, not even the loving words whispered into her ears could calm her down. But quite to the surprise of the mother, the baby stopped after hearing a knock, knock, knock, that came and went. Someone was at the door.
Firewood left behind, father and child ran through the forest with the scream ringing painfully in their ears. Still deep in the woods the father looked at his son, so little to know the meaning of war, and ordered him to hide in the branches and to not come out until he returned with his mother and sister. The child just seven year old covered his face with a couple of leaves, scared at the thought of the scream hurting his family.
Hours went by and no one came. Terrified and arming himself with a sword-like branch, the boy returned to the village. It was pitch black and he'd always been afraid of the dark, but his father once said that one must leave aside all weakness if the people you love are in danger. With these words repeating over and over again, the boy finally reached the village.
The grass was full of distorted forms. The closer he came, the clearer the images. He walked slowly, silently, with trembling legs, until he was close enough to see the pile of burned bodies, two or three still alive, pleading at him to save them. With hands covered in sores they prayed for just a bit of water to soothe their pain. The boy saw his friends burned, without hair, with their eyelashes carbonized, crying.
"I thought there was no one else, I'm sorry you had to see this, little one."
Spoke an old man at the center of the bodies. Behind him slept a baby. She didn't seemed to realize what was going on. She slept soundly, as if the man who was holding her was the cradle himself.
"Le…, lea… leave my sister alone!" shouted the boy.
The elder looked at him before turning his face to the sky, waiting. The boy saw an opportunity and ran towards the old man, holding his wooden sword high, and he was just about to reach him when something caught his attention; his parents. Or their remains, for he could hardly discern their figures. A pair of bodies holding tightly to one another as to not lose each other wherever they were going to.
"There he comes".
This time there was no scream. There was thunder. The sky cracked and the clouds trembled, the animals ran with all their might and even the wind stopped blowing. For an instant the world light up, a spark shone in every corner of the world and from that spark emerged a man.
"Let's end this already" said the man who descended from the sky.
"The rings we gave you and your people weren't for this, Lura" responded the old man.
"And you believe they deserve them?"
"That's the decision we made. Maybe they don't understand their power fully but I'm sure in the future they'll come to dominate it."
"You're mistaken, we tried to teach them from the very beginning but these beasts, these animals without salvation will never comprehend the gift that was given to them and the opportunity they had to ascend."
"Lura. You and your brothers have done a splendid job and for that we're grateful. But there's nothing else I can give you besides what I already have. We've left everything in the remaining rings. What else could I possibly give you? Maybe my death will satisfy your desires."
"There's one thing."
"What is it?"
"Bacis."
The boy trembled solely from hearing that name. Bacis. The Land of the Gods.
"End this war and I'll tell you how to find it."
"Stop lying, old geezer. More wars will come."
The man called Lura disappeared in an instant and promptly appeared before the old man. Holding his right hand to the sky five rings could be seen, the same rings Bearers used around the world. One of the rings, a ruby ring, shone and from his fingers lighting came to be. The old man couldn't defend himself, lighting pierced his stomach and just as he was falling, Lura snatched the crying baby off his embrace.
"You really thought I wouldn't notice. You've given this child your last word, you made her a recipient with no ring. I wonder which word you gave her and if I'll have any use for it. I'll find Bacis, you can't stop me, and when I do it, I'll claim all the worlds as mine. And you, useless Gods, will forever lament the day you created me and your portals."
"I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE MY SISTER ALONE!" screamed furiously the boy.
Lura looked at him. He embraced the baby with his right harm, so he raised the other hand and one of the rings from a stone he couldn't name shone again. A portal formed in the sky. Through it eleven shadows moved in an unknown land.
"Come get her."
The boy threw himself at Lura but quickly realized he couldn't move. Another ring was activated.
"Where I come from" spoke the man called Lura. "We use to spare the lives of those that defy us under one condition. Say, which eye do you like the most?" He put his hand in the child's face, waited, smiled and cleanly gouged his left eye out. –"My name's Lura, a pleasure."
The man and the girl disappeared trough the portal. Only the half dead old man and the socked boy remained in the grass. That night clouds covered the sky and the moon allowed herself to be seen for just a second.
"Little one, I'm truly sorry. There's only one thing I can do for you, but you'll suffer more than today. I don't know if your body will resist or if your soul is ready, but is the only way I can think of to save us all. Listen to me. I'll take your name and send it to Bacis. Find the Land of the Gods and tell them I send you, that you're the one whose self was stolen. Travel the seas, the mountains and cities that my brothers and I created for your people. Bask in their glory and get to the last stop. Believe nothing and don't forget this day. From now on, little one, you'll be The Nothing. NOTHING. NO THING. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. N.O.T.H.I.N.G. N.O.T.N.O.N…"
The old man whispered this word into the child's ear. He started to convulse. A yellowish liquid dripped from his mouth, from his left eye socket clogged blood flowed, his nails disappeared and his hands withered. At the center of his chest a hole appeared, a hole that would open up more and more 'till it consumed him. The Nothing was born.
"Goodbye, Little one. Goodbye. Remember Bacis. Your name awaits you there."
…
The cart stopped. The driver came down from his seat to awaken his only passenger. As he opened the door he asked himself if it really was a good idea to have accepted that trip. In an improvised hale bed slept a young man of approximately 17 years old. He was clothed with a long black cape, along with a hood that covered his face. His hands were also covered with thick gloves despite the hot weather.
"Wake up! We're here!"
The young man took a couple of minutes to open his eye. He woke himself up and left the cart, shook his pants and cape to remove any hale left, stretched his arms high, yawned some more, took his bag and when he was fully alert he took some coins out of his pocket.
"Thanks for the ride."
"Trip paid, trip served" responded the driver
The young man didn't say anything, only nodded and turned around.
"Hey! You never told me why you wanted to come this far."
"I came to be a Bearer."
"Bearer? Were you chosen by one of the rings?" asked intrigued the driver.
"No, I don't use rings."
"A Bearer with no ring, strange times are upon us."
"That's right, be careful on your way back and thanks again for the trip."
"Wait! Before you go tell me your name, just in case you become a Bearer and I can brag about how I was the one to bring you to the city."
"My name?"
"Yes, your name."
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Yes."
"That's your name?"
"No, but you can call me that."
The confused driver looked at the young man. He was going to be someone important, would have to remember him in the future. It wasn't his covered hands, the cape nor the eyepatch on his left eye. It was something that could not be understood. It truly seemed to be the only thing in him. Nothing.
Otaez stands proudly in from of us. Capital of the world and headquarters to the Association of Bearers. Who are these Bearers? What mysteries are hidden in the rings? What did that man named Lura meant when he spoke about the portals and the other worlds? There's only one thing we can be certain of; at the end of this story the hero dies.