'Ma and pa will return. They always do.' A certain child thought.
Fear had taken over every bit of his small body. He wished to run. He didn't want to hear the crackling of the flames ravaging the home he had spent his entire, yet short life in.
He didn't want to hear the screams of desperation and cries of pain through the trapdoor. He wanted it to be dark and silent. He wanted to only hear the crickets chirping outside and his father up late at night fixing their shoes after a long hard day.
He wanted to go to sleep comfortably. In the warmth of his bed, the safety of the home his parents had built.
They promised him safety. Months earlier when he fell in the stream, his mother promised to protect him. And now, before she ushered him into the little space with teary eyes, she promised to protect him.
He didn't understand why such words were so different despite being the same sentences. But he could understand that he may never see them again.
But he still wished for their return. He prayed like they taught him to. To Goddess Marina, she was everyone's mother. And mothers always have to protect their children.
'That's what ma said.' He thought.
So he prayed. Prayed when he heard his father yelling from above. He prayed through the night. He prayed into his knees that were bruised and scratched, even when it burned from the tears and snot running down his face.
He was jolted from his prayer when the roofing came crashing on top of the trapdoor. It effectively sealed him from the outside world. He couldn't hear a thing.
His wish for silence was at least partially answered.
And so the boy waited. He waited for his parents as he should.
'Ma and pa will return. They always do.' A certain child thought.
... Maybe they wouldn't.
After hours of waiting, hunger overtook him. But the boy still didn't intend to move from the space. He wanted his parents to find him.
'They will take me somewhere better.' He thought.
Those two thoughts fought for dominance in his immature mind. It wasn't until when hope and prayer was drowned by despair, and when tears were about to fall, did he begin scratching and making noise.
'Ma and pa must've forgot about me.'
That must be it. They just forgot where they placed him, like when he misplaced a toy in the house.
He kept making noise. He continued until his fingers chipped and bled, prompting him to cry out in pain.
Someone must've heard, because he heard something being moved above. Hope returned to his eyes.
'Ma and pa!' He thought. He sat patiently with wide eyes, waiting for them to open the door.
How he wanted to bang his hands against the trapdoor and excitedly call out for them, but his throat had gone hoarse and dry. His hands hurt.
"Hello? I'd like to talk with you." The voice called out.
The boy's smile froze. This wasn't the voice of his mother and father. Who was this?
Fear instilled itself in his bones. What if this was the person who took away his peace? He will hurt him, won't he?
He could hear the latch being unlocked and quickly, the door itself was lifted open. Dust and small debris fell in, pricking the boy's eyes and scratching his throat. He painfully coughed but that didn't stop him from hastily backing away as far as he could.
The dust settled and he was given proper view of the man... or at least, as proper as he could be granted in the dead of night. Moonlight filtered in, illuminating the darkness beneath the trapdoor.
It was peaceful outside.
The trapdoor falling roused him from his thoughts.
"A kid, hm?" The man spoke as if he found a grasshopper in the wild.
"I'm not a bandit, so take my hand." He added.
The boy briefly looked up at his face, then down to the pale hand stretched out.
It took him some time to calm down, much less register what or who the man was. At the very least, he didn't seem like a bandit... more like a villager.
'Maybe he knows where ma and pa are?'
With that thought leading his actions, the boy slowly took the man's hand and he was hoisted from the ground. He settled onto his bare feet and from there, he could see the state of ruination his home was in.
His chest rose and fell quickly and he felt like he would have another breakdown, but the man releasing his hand calmly brushed some debris from his head and dust from his face.
"What's your name?" The man asked.
The boy turned his focus up to him.
"C-...ory. Cory."
...
"Cory, huh?" Griffon repeated.
This child, Cory, obviously didn't seem to be in the best state. He didn't know how long exactly the boy was left in that little space, nor exactly how traumatized he was from this situation. Griffon wasn't too keen on watching him have a mental breakdown either, so he calmly led his attention elsewhere.
He cleaned the dust from Cory's head and face so it wouldn't agitate his eyes.
"How old are you, Cory?" He asked another question.
"Seven." He answered honestly.
"Do you know what happened to this village?" Griffon added another question.
This time the boy went silent, before shaking his head slowly. Cory looked around, then back up at Griffon.
"I want to see my parents. Where are they?" Cory timidly asked.
Griffon mulled over his answers. He had an inkling they likely faced the same fate as the other villagers.
Griffon chose not to answer. He turned and ushered Cory to follow him.
"Maybe we'll find them out there. Let's leave first, though." Griffon didn't exactly lie, but he sure hoped they wouldn't stumble across their corpses and complicate things.
Cory stalled for a moment facing that reply. He decided to follow after him. Maybe he'll lead him to his parents, or just protect him from whoever caused this mess.
He just didn't want to be alone.
Griffon, watching the boy stumble through the mess of a door and stand before him, nodded in satisfaction. He half expected Cory to plan to wait for his parents.
"Where's the nearest river, Cory?" He asked.
Since Griffon was under proper light, Cory quickly studied his features. A young man with disheveled dark hair and skin so pale, it almost looked like it radiated silver under the moonlight. He had half lidded eyes and a cold blue eye color, with no light whatsoever. He seemed lifeless. But he was alive and talking to Cory, so that didn't make sense.
Cory confused himself with that bit, but Griffon snapping his fingers in front of his face had him quickly answering.
"Ah-, just- just east! I can t-take you there."
"Let's get a move on then." Griffon had the arrow telling him north the entire time, he already guessed the other cardinal directions.
He turned eastward and made his way there, not minding the boy scrambling to keep up with the pace.
Under the moonlight, two figures, one short and one tall, walked in silence towards the river. Nothing was said between them, and when the boy looked up to see the man's face, he couldn't tell whether he was thinking or focusing on the road ahead.
'Well, it is dark. It is a bit hard to see, maybe he just doesn't want to trip.' Cory settled with that self made explanation.
'Maybe ma and pa are lost in the dark?' And another came to his mind.
It was then that the boy became determined to locate his parents. He'd have to light some torches to guide them back.
'But ma never gets lost. She'll take pa back down the right way.' Cory frowned, wiping some dirt away from his nose with his arm.
Griffon voice came from the side.
"Are you crying?" He asked.
"Uh? Ah, no, mister." Cory glanced back up at him, then looked straight ahead.
He realized they had already arrived at the river. Cool water reflecting the shine of the moon ran downstream. Griffon was first to approach it, followed by Cory.
After sitting at the edge and palming some cold water into his mouth, Griffon immediately began washing away at his skin and face. His hair came second.
With how disheveled it was, he realized it practically clumped up together. He worked his fingers through it and after some time, realized his hair reached a little past his shoulders.
And he also noticed that temperature, whether cold or warm, could be felt, but not too well. The cold water moistening his throat was easier to discern in comparison to the same cold water running in beads down his face from his hair.
"Interesting." He muttered, looking down to meet a blurry reflection in the stream.
From the corner of his eye, he spotted Cory simply sitting at the riverbank, curious eyes on him as if Griffon called for his attention.
"I wasn't talking to you, don't mind me." Griffon spoke up.
The boy looked down. "Oh, okay."
And they were both silent once again.
"What's your name, mister?" At least until Cory asked.
"Griffon." The man replied. His last name couldn't be applied to this world anyhow.
Cory sat there and pondered over the name. Griffon wasn't a name he heard around the village at all.
As if he read his mind, Griffon continued. "I'm not from around here. Technically. Don't think too much about it."
Technically his body was, but the soul was foreign. Much more foreign. The boy cast him a look of confusion before he accepted the answer. He had much more to worry about anyhow.
"Wash the dust off your face and hair before we go." Griffon advised the boy.
Cory perked up his head and slowly nodded. He moved a little upstream and began washing his hands, before he quickly pulled his hands back.
"What's wrong?" Griffon raised a brow.
Cory slowly shook his head and dipped his hands back in. "It's- it's cold. I don't know if I can wash my hair, mister Griffon." Cory looked at him.
"I see... Just wash your face then." He added as he stepped away from the river, head dripping wet. Griffon didn't have to worry about catching a cold, or any sickness actually. That didn't eliminate him from being a carrier of anything.
Hygiene still was important, especially when it came to stenches.
He waited for Cory to wash his face. The boy quickly splashed the cold water on his face before shaking his head side to side, humoring Griffon into a dry chuckle.
Cory froze up at the cold sensation of wind hitting his face but he quickly got up and began to clean the cuts on his knees. He finished and got up to his feet, looking towards Griffon.
The man took that as a sign to leave for the other village. He didn't know how far it was but he'd have around an hour to make up since he returned to this village.
Running the entire way may not be feasible, especially if he were going with the child.
Griffon stared at the boy for a bit. There were limitations on the human body, both dead and alive. Neither form was entirely superior though.
"I'll need to do more testing." He thought aloud, sparking more confusion in Cory.
"What?" This time, the boy couldn't help but ask.
'Mister has been mumbling to himself for some time now... is he okay?' Cory tilted his head.
It would be a lie to say it didn't freak him out in some way, but the man hadn't shown any intention of harming him so far.
"We're going to another village." Griffon spoke up. "It'll take a while if we walk."
He began wondering if there were any horses or something similar. It'd save them time... but given the ruckus the bandits caused, they likely either fled or were killed to prevent escape.
They'd really be slow if Cory was with him, but Griffon had very little complaints there. More time to get used to his body. More time to ask Cory about subjects regarding this world.
He was curious about the goddess and anything this world had to offer.
"But- but what about my ma and pa?" Cory spoke up with haste.
Griffon held the boy's gaze.
"Maybe they're at the next village. We might stumble across them there." Griffon turned around after saying that.
Recalling the blood splashed across the trapdoor, Griffon practically assumed they were dead. If they weren't, that was fine.
"Okay... okay." Cory quietly replied. He looked around at the array of dark trees before making the decision of following after Griffon.
'If they can't find me here, they'll find me at the other village.' He thought.
Griffon spared the arrow a glance and started walking at a pace Cory could keep up with, and the boy followed.
...
They've made quite some progress so far. Griffon almost reached the area his body was dumped at, but he made sure to take an alternate route to avoid running into someone they shouldn't. Corpses weren't a problem along the way either.
Along the way, he asked Griffon many questions. Most could be answered with the cube, like details about the goddess and the state of the world and general topography.
The rest, like public opinion and what people did in their day to day lives was a mystery. Perhaps because this wasn't its domain, the death's fragment couldn't give him a search engine for Griffon to tinker with.
That was fine. There was more to discover anyhow.
Griffon couldn't help but wonder if things that were considered taboo in his previous world was taboo here as well. He'd like to push the limit on some things.
Maybe he could use this world to make further progress on his research.
They took a short break. Griffon and Cory seated themselves on some rocks and fallen trees.
"Cory, have you've awakened any powers?" Griffon asked the boy.
The subject of magic had been brought up just then, and Cory confirmed the existence of mages, knights, and so on. This was just like the fantasy stories he heard on Earth.
"Um... I don't think so." Cory looked over at him.
"You don't think so?" Griffon replied.
"No- ah, uh yeah. Pa was supposed to take me to the test at the church, but we couldn't go. I don't know if I have anything." The boy sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.
Griffon slowly nodded. 'Does the church manually activate these powers? Would anyone otherwise know what they have?'
He decided to ask. "I'm assuming you can awaken your magic without the church?"
"Yeah, that happened to my pa! He said the church just tests your attitude!" Cory became much more chipper mentioning his father. A little smile bloomed on his face.
"Aptitude, I think you meant aptitude."
"Oh, yeah. Apti-something!"
Griffon raised a hand to his chin.
'They're able to test someone's aptitude in magic. I'd like to see the process for myself... ah, am I able to use magic? That fragment hasn't told me anything about my blessings thus far. I'll have to consult the cube.'
Griffon looked up at the arrow pointing ahead. It flashed a faint purple as if ready to answer any questions.
Before he could ask, Cory interrupted his thoughts.
"Do you have magic, mister Griffon?"
Curiosity was sparkling in the boy's eyes.
Griffon met his gaze with silence. He hoped he had anything to use.
"I actually don't know. I'm curious about seeing the church on that matter." Griffon lightly shrugged a shoulder.
"Oh... okay. I'll ask ma and pa to take us together." Cory replied, swinging his feet, oblivious to the looming fact that his parents may be rotting with slash marks on their throats.
That, or he may just be very hopeful... or repressing it all.
"Will you? Much appreciated, thank you." He nodded his head.
Cory returned him a light grin.
"Are you ready to go now?"
"Yes!"