The Prologue - Tired and Broken
As I tried to focus and recall my memories, I was confronted by a sense of confusion and uncertainty. My mind had been shrouded in a dense, ominous shadow for a long time, clouding my thoughts and obscuring my perception of the world around me. It was like trying to see through a thick mist, blindly following the currents of an unknown river downstream without any idea of where it would take me.
This sense of disorientation and uncertainty was unsettling, leaving me feeling lost and adrift in the world. I began to question the very foundations of my being, wondering who I was and what my place was in this vast and complex universe.
Chapter 0 - The Journey of a Boy
I was only a young boy at that time, living with my family, leading a peaceful life taking care of my younger sister while my parents worked the land. Breakfast was an important time for our family; my mother always said it brought friends and family together, and we always spent some time around the table as a family. The rest of the day, my mother would be busy gathering herbs in the garden and my father would be tending the fields or selling goods in the nearby village, while I looked after my sister.
Every day started the same way - my mother would wake us up and ask me to watch over the boiling pot with rice and beans from the garden, while she set the table and my sister went to fetch our father.
As my mother and I were preparing breakfast, we heard a commotion outside and my mother asked me to take a look. When I opened the door, I saw three menacing men on horseback riding up to the front gate. My father was looking back at me with fear in his eyes.
The menacing men demanded my sister, their voices rough and threatening. My father stood firm, his expression one of fierce determination as he tried to protect her. Father shouts at my sister to run back into the house without looking back. But my sister was frozen in fear, unable to move.
I tried to go to her, to help her, but before I could take a step, my mother rushed out of the house. I saw the fear in her eyes as well. She grabbed me and pulled me into her arms, shielding me with her body as she shouted at my sister to come to us.
My father was already leaping over the farm fence, ready to fight for his family. The tense air was charged with danger as we all tried to escape the threat of the unknown men.
The bandits drew their swords, and Father charged toward them with fierce determination in his eyes. He would fight them with all his might, protecting his family and his home. Despite being outnumbered, he refused to back down.
Mother held me tightly, shielding me from the violence and chaos. She whispered comforting words, trying to calm my trembling body. My sister stood frozen, tears streaming down her face as she watched our father fight for our lives.
With a fierce roar, Father launched a furious attack, wielding only a scythe, and tried to protect my sister from the bandits. But with a single, swift strike, his life was taken, and the scythe shattered. His lifeless body was tossed aside like a rag doll, his head hitting the ground next to him with a sickening thud. The man who took his life showed no remorse, nor hesitation in his actions.
My sister still stood frozen, the tears streaming down her face had stopped as if there was nothing left. Mother held me tightly, trying to shield me from the horror unfolding before our eyes. It was a moment that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
As the blood continued to flow out from Father's body, it drenched the earth, staining it a deep crimson. My sister stands petrified, her feet coated in the sticky, red liquid that was once my father's blood. It felt as though the world itself mourned his loss, the skies darkening and thunder rumbling ominously in the distance.
The large man calmly sheathed his sword and dismounted his horse, looking at my sister with twisted malice on his face. As the man approached my sister, her cries turned into wails of despair and terror.
Mother's cries and pleas for my sister to come to her fell on deaf ears as the man reached out to grab her. She knew what was coming, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. Mother held me tighter and tighter with every desperate scream, her grip nearly suffocating me. The screams of my mother and sister were the only things I heard as my vision grew narrow.
The large man tied my sister's hands together and threw her over his shoulder, her screams echoing through the air as he carried her away. Mother pleaded and begged for him to release my sister, but he paid her no mind. He mounted his horse and rode off, leaving the other two bandits behind to deal with us.
As he disappeared into the distance, my sister's cries grew faint and eventually faded away completely, leaving behind a feeling of hopelessness and despair. Mother held me tightly, her body shaking with grief and fear. I could barely breathe, and my vision continued to shrink until my sister was the only thing I could see. My sister was gone, and there seemed to be no way to bring her back. The other two bandits turned their attention to us, and I couldn't help but feel like this was the end. All I could do was wait for the inevitable as Mother continued to plead and scream, clinging to me as if I was the only thing left in the world.
The two bandits that remained cackled, one of them kicked Father's head before picking it up and tossing it toward Mother. The other smirked, "Let's get rid of the boy and take our time with the woman. That way we can have some quiet too. The boss only cares about little girls anyway."
Mother was unable to take her eyes off father's head and did not appear to understand what was happening anymore.
As the two bandits approached us, licking their lips and undoing their belts, a sudden silence filled the air. Out of nowhere, a man appeared behind them, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
The bandits froze in their tracks, as if they were being forcefully kept from moving, their eyes darting back and forth in confusion and fear. Not understanding what had happened.
The mysterious man appeared in the blink of an eye, without any sound or movement, but his presence was undeniable. Without any emotion, he dispatched the two bandits with ease, or perhaps they were already dead as soon as he appeared. The scene was surreal and terrifying, leaving Mother and me trembling with fear and uncertainty.
Mother let out a sob of cautious relief, and I finally felt able to take a deep breath and feel some sense of relief since walking out the door. I felt that we would be safe with this man.
As the bandits crumpled to the ground, their lifeless bodies hit the earth with a resounding thud. And yet, even in that moment of victory, the man who had saved us remained shrouded in mystery. Without so much as a glance in our direction, he spoke towards the horizon.
The man's voice was cold and emotionless, but there was a sense of authority and power in his words. "I am sorry, but I was forbidden to intervene. I could see all that had happened here, but I was not allowed to act. However, I did not have to stand by and watch these beasts ravage you and kill your son. I have other business to attend to. This was the only kindness I could offer in your time of need. I'm sorry."
Mother, overcome with emotion, stumbled over and clung to him wept, and begged him to save her daughter
With his vision firmly transfixed on the horizon he spoke. "You seem to think that I have any power over this situation, I was a mere observer, bound by fate to witness the unfolding events, devoid of any control," he told her. "But I am powerless to save your daughter. Your pleas for help are futile. Now, unhand me. I have other matters to attend to. Accept your fate and leave me be."
As Mother noticed Father's lifeless head, she collapsed to the ground, her sobs echoing through the air. She reached out, cradling Father's head in her lap, as if providing comfort for him in death.
The stranger's words faded into the background, drowned out by Mother's grief. The man briefly glanced in our direction before sighing and scanning the horizon.
"Your pain burdens my heart, but the weight of grief is yours alone to bear," he uttered. "However, a strand of karmic fate seems to have connected me with the boy. While duty compels me elsewhere, preventing me from saving your daughter, I shall offer you another kindness in hopes of breaking the karmic bond for his safety. My path is fraught with peril."
He picked up a fallen branch, cleared away dry grass, inspected it, tapped it on the ground in a peculiar rhythm and pattern, and rubbed it with an oil-soaked cloth. A strong scent of herbs and spices filled the surrounding air. Finally, the stranger turned his gaze toward me.
"Boy, in your current state, you cannot hope to save your sister. You must train and grow stronger to protect what is yours in the future," he declared, extending the crude staff towards me. "Keep this staff with you always, until it becomes an extension of yourself. Only then will nothing else be taken from you."
I pleaded with the wandering swordsman who had saved us, "Master, please train me so that I can save my sister."
"Boy, your conviction is strong, but your strength is lacking," he responded, glancing once again toward the horizon. "You are too old to join my master's temple, and the resources required to train you would be wasteful. I must return to my charge."
He left me with these words "The first lesson of this world, 'there is no justice' the best you can hope for is revenge. Ponder these words and a path will form beneath your feet, it is up to you whether you walk it or not"
With those words, he vanished as if he had never been there. The silence lifted, and only the cries of loss remained. Leaving us alone with the lifeless bodies of our attackers. We were left to pick up the pieces of our shattered lives, forever scarred by the events that had unfolded before us. As the tears dried, I guided Mother inside. She leaned on me, barely able to stand, refusing to let go of Father's head. It felt as though she held both Father's and Sister's lives in her arms. I helped her to a chair at the table.
Although it was well past midday, the breakfast table remained set. It seemed an incomprehensible concept now. Mother whispered something unintelligible, her eyes puffed up and dry, lifeless.
"That's strange," I thought, noticing that my sister's plate was slightly off-center, requiring her to reach for it, while my cup had fallen over. I arranged the plate and cup as they should be, but something was still not right but I could figure out what it was…
I stepped outside to call Father for breakfast, I realized the sky was darker than it should.
"That's strange."
I gather breath in my lungs to call Father into breakfast but there is no need, I see him there on the ground. My vision narrows and I hear myself falling to the ground.
I awoke the next morning to the brisk coldness of dawn. My clothes were soaked with morning dew and stained red with Father's blood. He still lay undignified on the muddy road, with a crow perched upon his chest.
Hatred and anger consumed me, I dashed toward my father's body as I swung my staff at the crow. Feathers exploded into the air.
"Nothing else will ever be taken from me!"
Again and again, I struck the crow with my staff, the stranger's words echoing in my ears.
"Nothing else will ever be taken from me!"
I continued to strike the crow, each hit landing with a wet thud in the already blood-soaked ground. Dizziness overcame me, and I braced myself against my blood-drenched staff.
I stood before the grave marker near the tree where we had buried our house cat last year. It reminded me of the days my sister would cry endlessly locked in her room. Memories flooded back, and I recalled my father wielding a hoe with just three swings to dig that hole.
As I walked around the back of the house, I spotted the hoe still resting there. I grabbed it and made my way to the tree, where my father used to take his midday naps, unless Mother caught him, of course. Digging was far more challenging than my father had made it seem. After a few swings, I struck a stubborn root. Determined, I used my staff to bend it out of the way, toiling away for the entire day.
As I approached my father's lifeless body, I stumbled over a pile of dirt. Exhausted and surrounded by darkness, I yearned for a moment's rest. But the sharp cries of crows flying overhead snapped me back to attention. I dragged my father to his cherished resting spot beneath the tree, where he would now find his final peace. I began the somber task of covering him with mounds of dirt. When the hole was finally concealed, I embraced him one last time and fell asleep atop his grave.
A few nights passed, and Mother's sleepless nights persisted. She frequented the nearby village, pleading for help, but the militia were unable to help, the bandits had kidnapped young girls from other remote farms as well and everyone was in a panic.
Yesterday, Mother journeyed to the nearest town in search of aid. She departed early in the morning and returned late at night, her hands laden with bags of herbal tea, knowing our herbs were running low.
Every night, Mother brewed herbal tea to help us sleep. However, tonight its taste was strange—bitter, with a subtle almond scent. Another nightmare stirred me awake, leaving me feeling sick, and I vomited in the darkness. Mother still slept, so I returned to bed.
Morning arrived, and Mother remained undisturbed. It was the first night she had found solace since it all began, so I let her rest. By noon, she had not stirred from her slumber. Determined to provide for her, I prepared dinner and left it outside her door, awaiting her readiness.
Another day passed, and Mother had barely touched her soup, nibbling on the bread before abandoning it outside her door. I decided to grant her more time to rest…
My sister had grieved in the same way when our cat had died, Mother just needed more time.
On the third day, I stumbled upon a fat rat feasting on the abandoned bread, and a flood of anger surged through me.
'Nothing else will ever be taken from me!'
Swinging my staff, I crushed the rat, but in the process, the floorboards split, and the door flung open. Mother remained in bed, undisturbed by the commotion. I approached and took her hand, it was cold and stiff, assuring her that it was only a rat, and there was no need to fear. Beside her lay a teacup—filled with the bitter brew she had made for us…
Silently, I began to bury my mother next to my father. "No justice," I murmured beneath my breath. "Nothing else will ever be taken from me."
I trained relentlessly with the staff, my hands blistering and bleeding. Day and night, I persevered, repeating the words: "Nothing else will ever be taken from me. There is no justice."
"I will save my little sister from the bandits with my own hands," I vowed. "And if she is gone, I will exact revenge with my own hands, bringing her back to rest beside our father and mother. I will keep them safe. Nothing else will ever be taken from me!"
The man advised me to grow stronger. With resolve in my heart, I decided to head to the town and demand help from the lord. I had been there once before, accompanying my father. The dirt road to the east stretched for a day's journey. Revenge would be mine, and I would reunite my shattered family, regardless of the cost.
With nothing but the clothes on my back and the staff in my grasp, I tightened my grip, causing blood to trickle down my knuckles. The road proved longer and more arduous than anticipated, leading up a steep hill and through a treacherous mountain pass. The city lay just beyond that pass, awaiting my arrival. Darkness descended upon me as I pressed onward.
A terrifying snarl erupted behind me. Hastily turning, I beheld a formidable wolf, hungry for its next meal—larger than any my father had ever described. Instinct told me to flee, but my father's words echoed in my mind: "If you face a wild animal, don't run. Stand your ground, make yourself appear big, and create loud noises."
The man had given me this staff for a reason—to face such challenges. I summoned every ounce of courage, I struggled to raise the staff high above my head and bellowed with all my might.
At first, the wolf seemed bewildered, but then it pounced. Confusion overwhelmed me as the attack commenced. When I regained consciousness, I found myself lying beneath the twilight sky. A warm sensation enveloped me, lulling me into comfort. But suddenly, an icy chill seized my body, and my chest ignited with searing pain. I surveyed my surroundings, blood staining everything, my chest was torn open. The wolf loomed over me, poised to strike. Fortunately, I had clung tightly to the staff.
The wolf's jaws clamped down on the staff, relentlessly gnashing and attempting to dislodge it. Though unable to fend off its ferocious bites, I pressed my elbows against the rocky ground, forming a staunch defense.
The wolf bit down on the staff to throw it to the side. I was still able to hold on to it and I was also tossed away with it. I landed hard onto my stomach, jagged stones cut deeper into my flesh, the wolf made another dash toward me, and with my feeble strength, I could only swipe weakly at it, anticipating the inevitable bite I closed my eyes.
A sickly gurgle permeated the night air, but the bite never landed. Terrified, I remained paralyzed, enveloped in a veil of silence once more.
The wolf must have withdrawn and its jaws missed their mark. As I gazed upward, I was met with a ghastly sight—a half-missing head, a row of teeth just in front of my face, the upper portion torn away. The stench and sight overwhelmed me, inducing a fit of retching. I heaved more blood than bile In this desolate moment, there was no hope for me. Even if the wolf lay lifeless, I would succumb to this night.
Whimpering and tiny snarls caught my attention from behind. Another wolf? My legs refused to support me as I turned my head. Four tiny wolf pups huddled against the rocky wall, their eyes mirroring the despair I had felt only a week before. My anger intensified, unable to bear witness to their weakness. In an instant, I snapped my head to the right, grasping the staff tightly. Pointing it at the pups, I mustered a final defiant scream. Darkness enveloped me.
I waited for death, unsure of the duration. My desire to reunite with my father, sister, and mother consumed me. I hoped they would forgive me—for failing to save them, protect them, avenge them, and be the hero they needed. Above all, I yearned for us to be a family once more. Please forgive me…