The full moon that peeked from behind the dark clouds which traced the starry sky, announced that it was time.
Desmas felt it.
The time was ripe!
His grip on the object in his hand tightened as he took in deep breaths as if to swallow the entire Watering Hole through his nostrils.
After the feasting of the cow, he had grabbed one of the poor creature's bones and tucked it under his tunic.
He shook like a leaf, not only from the cold which was barely hindered from fondling his flesh by the patches of hay he hid in but from fright.
With this deed, he could never return to normalcy.
Many a dead body had he seen, yet not one of them hailed from the works of his hands.
All around the circular expanse that was lit up by the moonlight, the other slaves tossed and turned in their sleep while others simply could not find it within themselves to shut their eyes and retire to the singular fantasy that they had left.
Desmas rose slowly, the stalks of dry grass falling from his figure.
Thick veins ran over his eyes as he scrounged for the resolve to permanently put to rest past memories.
After years, a gripping desperation had finally succeeded in leaking out.
'If... if I can do this... surely... it will grant me my wish. Yes! Yes! That must be so...' Desmas thought as he took a step forward.
'No one will mind... right? What I said earlier... it should have been enough to cast everyone's minds against the boy! They will not condemn me for this, will they?'
Desmas' eyes darted to and fro, imagining whether this deed would be a cause for all to gather against him or to turn a blind eye.
Nay.
None of that mattered.
For if he truly got what he desired, it didn't matter which mortal or god toyed with his fate afterwards.
In his heart though, he wished it had been the one who felt no pain to fall to his hand at this moment.
However, it seemed that he would not see that young man again.
He walked over the dry ground slowly as he crossed the distance over to his oblivious target, his slow steps which echoed out, waking up a few of his more sensitive peers.
No one spoke a word as when they saw where Desmas was headed, they knew what he aimed to do.
It all made sense now why he had tried to rally them against this young man who lay in sleep, unconsciously pushing tufts of hay over his body as he shivered.
A hint of sentiment crawled up to dissuade the brown-eyed man, scenes of his earlier days when he had entertained this young man as a boy streaming through his eyes.
'Hngh!'
Desmas shook his head, ridding himself of the hesitation and as soon as he was within earshot's distance from the young man, Aneus, he leapt over him, bringing all his weight over him!
The young man opened his eyes in shock and before he could even begin to wonder what evil had crashed on him from above, a sharp, dirty bone pierced his neck, sinking in a hand's worth of distance through!
Aneus gaped and in doing so blood flooded from his mouth instead of a voice.
For the innards of his neck had been ruptured.
Desmas immediately drew back, watching with hastened breaths as the young man gawked at him while violently trembling, grotesque gurgling sounds bubbling from his mouth!
His eyes turned red, as life rapidly fled from his flesh, the shock rushing his soul's retreat from his body!
The pain.
It was too much.
Aneus' eyes darted around to find the other slaves peeking at his dying body, others rising and folding their arms as if witnessing an odd phenomenon they were exempt from.
They did not care.
The young man's thoughts and sensations began to fade.
He thought of Trodden in these last moments.
For only he remained as the one to care for him.
But he was not here.
He was nowhere to be found in his dying moments.
'Trodden... how I wish... you could have...tasted this bitter end..with.. me.'
A last thought crossed Aneus' mind as he breathed his last, his undying reliance on his friend spewing from him even now.
For in as much as he loved his friend, he was also envious till the very end.
***
That particular day.
A day before the tragedy.
A day that never faded from memory, but fragmented into different sections of the mind with age.
"Trodden... what's wrong, dear?" a woman with silky, sunflower blonde hair said with a distressed visage, standing from her rocking chair which was perked in front of the small house and rushing over to her son who wore a distraught expression.
Her arms swept through the air to hold a boy with locks of brown hair and dark grey eyes much like her own.
The boy readily accepted his mother's embrace as she hurriedly checked if perhaps today was the day when it had finally happened.
After scrambling over the boy's youthful skin which was befitting of a child, she saw no new scars, wounds or bruises, much to both her relief and worry.
"What happened?" she asked the boy who hung his head.
Trodden sniffled as he then explained himself.
"My friends...
The blonde-haired woman smiled with a hint of sadness visible over the curve of her lips.
Such a sensitive boy.
This was not the first time Trodden had come rushing back home because he had been spoken ill of.
Despite his total resistance to physical pain, his heart was fickle to words, especially at such an age.
The woman scooped up her child and sat back on her chair, rocking it back and forth to ease Trodden's mind.
She looked at the cluster of houses before her were many people, much like her, went about their business, going to and fro with content smiles.
Thickets of smokes from those who cooked and the chattering from those gossiping women who knitted on a daily basis as well as the bursts of laughter from time to time – this was the order of the day in Albir.
"You know Trodden..." the woman said. "This is what I truly believe. Those like you who cling to their mothers have the most will to live and the most courage to fight for something more than themselves. You may not understand pain like everyone else, but... it gives you the chance to explore what else you can be. What else you can do for yourself and others."
Trodden's eyes looked up at his mother's face which never left the activity in the village.
"But... many of my friends don't like me. They like to hurt me by saying bad things about me and you... and father..." Trodden said in a torn voice.
The woman shook when she heard this, a fierce look brushing over her face as it darkened for a moment, her chest rising up to contain the rage.
She breathed out however, and kept her thoughts immediately before turning to Trodden.
"If they say bad things about us, then they are not friends. What about Aneus? Does he say bad things about to?"
Trodden blinked a few times.
In the next instance, his sad little face disappeared, a happier one taking its place.
"Oh. He's a good friend. He always says things back to my other frien-, the others and protects me. He thinks it's great that I do not feel pain," Trodden said with an innocent smile, but it turned down a little after he did some more thinking.
"But... he still gets scared of me sometimes."
The woman's heart ached as she held her child.
He was truly troubled by his condition and she by extension, felt for him too.
Cheering up the young boy at this moment would probably be difficult and she sought for another way to bring his spirits up.
Soon, it came to her and she smiled gently, standing up and dropping the boy to his feet.
"Come. Why don't we play 'Pry with me'?" she said.
At the mention of this game, Trodden nodded furiously with a grin and followed his mother.
They trod for a good mile over the hard ground that got heated by the rising sun overhead, the images of tall, swaying trees dropping their leaves in the wind emerging ahead while Albir became a distant painting that remained behind as they went, their eyes having to look down to see it from where they were.
The Free Woodlands.
These were liberated woodlands mostly free from dangerous animals and foul creatures, a deed owed to the local hunters and Sworn Seekers that scarcely showed themselves, save for times when the folk living in secluded villages requested for aid.
Tall pines surrounded the mother and son as they walked, breathing in the fresh air as they rummaged through hidden spaces, picking out unique objects like flowers and peculiarly shaped rocks from crevices in the ungrassed areas.
The scouring for such was a game that the mother and son duo played from time to time, in the front portions of the forest as they chanted, 'Pry with me, will you? Pry with me, you will! Pry with me, for beauty! Pry with me, for swill!' while giggling.
Trodden especially loved this.
His worries were swept away by the time of bliss he enjoyed with his mother.
Yet, on the blonde woman's face, one could see an etching of longing.
Each time she set foot in this forest, her expression would turn sullen for several moments and the candle of happiness that she usually held on her face would dwindle considerably.
Trodden would notice this each time.
"Mother... why did you name me Trodden?" the boy's voice came from the woman's side, asking in an emotional tone.
The woman was torn from her momentary recollections of love and brought back to reality.
The question posed to her was rather difficult to answer, and she took some time before she gave a reply, Trodden's gaze remaining on her as he tilted his head slightly.
"Son... have I ever told you about how you were born?" the woman asked as her face turned gentler.
Trodden shook his head.
"Well... it had only been seven months since I had been pregnant with you, on a cold and foggy night. It was then when I felt you kick," she said with a reminiscent smile.
"At that time, I had been feeling... sad. I never walked out of the house and ate only for your sake. Even that was from being pushed by my friends. But then you decided to come out early to make me feel better..."
Trodden wore a big smile when he heard this. All of a sudden, he felt better about being called a motherhog.
Yea.
Let them say what they wanted. He had a good reason to cling to life.
He was someone's reason to smile.
But then... he spilled another question.
"But...where was father? Was he not happy when I was born?"
The blonde-haired woman's face turned sullen, her disposition turning dark as she trembled.
Trodden felt his heart drop to the pits of his stomach when he saw his mother look to be housing a crack in her soul.
She opened her mouth as her eyes turned watery, but then...
FWOOOOSH!
Tongues of fire flared in Trodden's vision, wiping away what he saw and what replaced it was a burning landscape where hair-raising screams echoed all around in a terrifying transition, then the sound of galloping stallions rang in his ears and...
When the orange hue faded, Trodden saw many spikes dug into the ground, at their ends human heads that bore expressions which had one thing in common.
Despair.
His eyes honed in suddenly, focusing on one particular head that held only a single eye, the other looking to have been gouged out.
The right eye.
The moment he recognised the face perched on this head, Trodden screamed at the top of his lungs!
.....
"AAAAARGHHHHH!" he emitted a short burst of noise from his mouth.
The young man as he dangled from the chains above breathed heavily with a mix of emotion tinging his breath.
Such an experience.
It appeared like a dream.
Like a vivid memory but then, switched in the end with a distorted continuity.
'What...what was that?' he questioned himself as he looked to and fro.
With the noise that he had emitted, the inhuman growls howled from the beasts that surrounded him as they once again banged against the bars of the cells!
His mind had suddenly taken him back, showing him a vision of most things he remembered.
It was strange.
Yet, Trodden could confirm that they were true.
The day when he lost his mother.
The day when he lost his home which had suddenly transitioned in at the end!
It appeared so vividly in this vision that Trodden's emotions were stirred.
He felt his mother's words ring in his ears as if she had just spoken!
The rage!
The sorrow!
It all welled up in him as he struggled to breathe from having such things dug from the obscurity of time!
Drip! Drip!
Something fell from his mouth in liquid portions, Trodden subconsciously licking his lips and tasting the iron tang of blood!
'Blood?'
THRUM!
As it registered on his tongue, an obscene amount of strength raged in his body, overcoming him with an overwhelming grip!
At the same time, Trodden roared as he started to feel it again...
The excruciating pain which pulsed from his leg which had been torn!
The stinging pain from his lips from where the blood that leaked originated, for he had bitten his lips viciously when he was having the vision!
The dark eye had awakened again, but this time, Trodden felt a difference.
His skin turned hard and rough, his strength being increased many a fold!
From his torn leg wrapped up in a cloth, a sensation akin to hot water streaming through his veins gushed forth!
Heat!
This was Trodden's first time feeling it... and he growled at the top of his lungs!
"RAAAAR!"
For on top of the pain of torn flesh, this sensation burned!
Trodden's leg twisted unnaturally, devoid of his control, spinning and knocking against the hard floor until, the heating feel propounded, attaching the torn leg together mysteriously!
His leg was restored!
The physical and emotional pain caused Trodden no meagre amount of torment!
In this conjured rage, he pulled on the thick chains that bound him with all his might, the objects shattering with loud metallic clanks as he tore himself loose!
Trodden let out another bestial roar as he focused his vision ahead where the images of whatever patrolled around his cell became visible to him!
Yet, he did not care!
The creatures smashed against the iron bars to his cell relentlessly and the young man merely roared as tears streamed from his eyes, basking in the strength he had regained and the emerging emotions!
In the next moment, he rushed ahead, intent on breaking apart the bars and reaping the monsters behind them apart!
...
[Author's Note]
Sorry for the late updates. I will be increasing updates soon. Please keep up the support for more chapters.