My mind is lost. I can feel it slip through existence. Time and space becomes absent and I am alone with my conscious. Only darkness remains true.
That is the only familiar thing to my senses. No sound. No smell. Just a dark, black, void. I am empty. The mysterious ancient voice has not spoken again.
I don't grasp where my body is, I'm not even sure if my soul is tethered to it. Where am I? What am I doing here?
My memories have been emptied, becoming one with the nothingness, the void consumes me.
Without time, without an objective, I am going mad. I do not know why I am frantic, why I panic, something is wrong.
My inner self is screaming but I have no vocal chords to let loose my anguish.
Something has to conjure up, there needs to be some semblance of anything that I can grasp onto to return to reality.
I float in endless void, eternal agony, frustration eating at my thoughts. There is nothing to land on, no footing for my understanding of reality.
I can feel my soul bleeding out, if I don't grasp onto to reality, I will be swallowed up by the void.
What was I doing before? Where did I come from? Where am I going? Why do I feel a constant sense of dread as if death is immanent.
Death. I don't want death. Why do I not want death? It sounds welcoming when I mention it. Sounds like a deep slumber, a resting place for weary souls, a chance to unload your burdens.
Why does my conscious fear it? Why does my soul long for it? There is an inner struggle for desire. What do I desire?
My mind is undone, but I hear a faint voice, a whisper, it is Dior's. "Don't die on me Tits." It's the one string I needed to tie the tethers together.
I am here to overcome death. Not death itself but the demon. The demon who has trapped me in the endless void.
It all comes flooding back to me. I am here to kill the dragon. To protect my remaining family. To face death head on, and emerge victorious.
I try to bring myself back to my physical body. I cannot fight without it. I am helpless without my blessing.
As I struggle to fight whatever invisible force is preventing me to use my body, suddenly the darkness dissipates, engulfed in pure light. It is still an empty void but is instead a blinding one.
A tall, boney figure, looms over me, a dark cloak covering its body and a long rusty scythe slung over its shoulder.
I look up at its hollow eyes. Its skull permeates an ominous aura, and the etchings of ancient runes his cheeks bones and the crown of his forehead creates a tryptic motif.
"You are more resilient than I thought", the demon of Death's voice comes in a whisper, a deep, tingling one that pricks your soul, "Most mortals die to the void, the few that come back must face me in a duel."
"I don't have a body to duel with."
"This is not a physical battle, it is a battle of will. I have a third party member that will mediate this duel."
He pulls out a diamond scale out of his cloak. It is covered in planum emblems of the marking of death: the unknown skull. It is a skull said to have been conjured up by a collective of all creatures.
No one knows its true form, it is an ever mysterious figure, but the ominous dread is still recognizable within the marking of the skull. It reeks of death. Any creatures skull does. You don't need to identify it to know it has been dead.
The two ends of the scale even out as he holds it up. Nothing is placed on either end, and the diamonds shimmer in the light.
"Tell me mortal. Why do you deserve to live?"
"Deserve? Who are you to take it from me?"
"I am death."
I'm a dumbass. Of course he can take it, he's literally the one responsible for taking lives.
"Why must I prove my worthiness to make it out of here alive?"
"Because that is the game we are playing, stubborn mortal. Now answer. Or die."
"Because I have people that are counting on me. Because I have been ordained by the demoness of Lust to use my power. Because I am powerful, I must protect. Because I am strong I will always be needed. I need to live. Let me live and kill this dragon."
"Not enough."
"I gave you plenty of reasons, what does this dragon mean to you? I am marked by Lust, this beast is lowly and worthy of death by my hands."
"This creature is my reaper. Sure, I have plenty of them, but do not dishonor yourself by calling a fellow vessel a lowly beast. You are no different to the gods than how you value your peers; and so far none of your reasons have tipped the scales."
"Why not?"
"Very well. I will start making my case on why you must die. Soon you will understand mortal, you are wretched and far more worthy than my reaper to deserve death."
The scenery around me changes, lights sifting and bending, the setting molding into a recognizable location. I see the orphanage again. It is left untouched, no damage, and the cabins are full of my cheerful friends: the kids.
The realization of their absence hits me as I hear their laughter. High above the trees, Dior and I are perched on the hammock, immersed in our flirty banter.
I see the dragon, emerge from the trees and it smashes through the protective shields as if they were made of glass. Within minutes every kid is devoured and I am forced to witness the gruesome sight.
"You're deceiving me. Dior and I were asleep. It was the storm that broke the shields."
"I do not lie mortal, and neither do the scales."
The entire scene draws near, sucking into the palm of Death's hand and turning into a crystal sphere. He drops it on one end of the scale, and it tips to its side.
Another scene appears. I am in the abyss. I see my parents, fighting side by side. Slaughtering shepherds, ghouls, and divers.
I see the devastation their astonishing power creates around them. Entire cities leveled, a whole army demolished.
"This isn't me, you can't judge me by my parents."
"Have you forgotten who made you? What has granted you the ability to obtain such a powerful blessing? Let me remind you..."
"No, please don't. I have gone through hell to have that memory removed, I'll do anything, I'd rather die than encounter that memory..."
"I do find it interesting that you fear the unknown, how do you know this pain will be worse than death? Let's find out shall we?"
I freeze, I don't have a body but my soul disassociates to try and escape this torture.
The scene of the origin of my covenant appears. I have been cured of this trauma, I have put it behind me; but just being in the presence of this familiar scene brings all the nightmares back to me.
***
The aroma of burning incense and delicious food filled the little cottage of my family on this rainy day. A frail looking young woman with olive skin and curly dark hair was carefully setting the table for three.
Amidst the table of food was a beaten polaroid photo of a man several years younger than the woman. He had bright green eyes with short red hair and freckles sprinkling his chiseled face.
A golden chain with a pendant of a red hummingbird hung around his slender neck.
My mother set two sticks of incense beside the photo and gave it a long look before the sensation of a wet puddle pricked her feet.
Startled, she turned around to see a little boy with bright green eyes, wavy red hair, and olive skin sprinkled with freckles, dripping wet from head to toe. It's little me.
"Oh gods! There you go sneaking in again without me noticing. What happened to your umbrella? Come here sweetie, let's get you changed."
It is so odd seeing my younger self. The little boy shivered ferociously as my mother dried him off.
"I'm sorry mama… I know how hard it was for you to craft that umbrella, but a ghoul snatched it and I was too scared to get it back."
Mom peels off his soaked clothes, revealing the bruises stretching across my thin frame. She calmly brought his arm down and caressed his face with a warm dry towel.
"Oh my child, do not forget where you came from. The gods know who you are and how strong you will become. They've watched over us until now. One day, they will grant you their powers and you will become our protector."
The cozy cottage had two chambers, one for the kitchen and dining while the other was for sleeping. Patches of newspapers and cardboard littered the wall covering the cracks where heat seeped out.
Beautiful crayon sketches of colorful mystical gods were displayed on each of these pieces, bringing warmth and life into our decrepit abode.
The gods appeared before men in differing forms, but people assigned an image that correlated to each one.
My mom was an admirer of the gods but could not afford to attend shrines so she created her own with whatever resource she could find.
She was a devout worshiper, praying for the long awaited heroes appearance.
Young Titus tightened his grip on his mothers gown while staring down the photo of his father. My mother was a talented artist, able to craft almost any of their necessities.
From gadgets and tools of every kind, she would create what was necessary for them to traverse the dangerous shores of the coast.
I always marveled at mothers creations, but would always feel remorse when she wasted it on honoring my father who abandoned us.
Mom always instilled in me my importance to the gods; but their neglect of my mothers fervent prayers made me resent them. Mom gently pushed her son off of her and nodded towards the set table.
"Happy eighth birthday my son. Come eat, Tia will arrive shortly, I have a special gift for you when we finish eating."
Young Titus perked up at the sound of his gift, barely holding in his excitement and impatiently glanced up from his food at the door every few seconds, expecting his sister to burst through.
A loud thud erupted from the door. My younger self jumped and scurried over to open it.
"Wait!"
Little Titus looked back at my mother who had unsheathed her xiphos. The double edged short sword was only ever brought out in dire situations.
There were intricate engravings along the edge of the sharp blade, emanating a green hue with a vibrating hum.
The engraving on the blade resembled the markings that ran along her thigh: a mystical bird.
He did not know what was wrong but he trusted his mothers instincts, just as he had countless times before when she defended him against the horrors of the abyss.
"Hide under the sink cabinet. Don't get out until I say so."
Titus obeyed, and watched from the thin crack of the cabinet door as his mother slowly approached the door. Another loud thud erupted and this time the door broke down, revealing four large figures bursting into the cottage.
Each of them were adorned with white silk garments and intricate gold embroidery. A bronze breastplate armor and helmet emanated a light blue glow from the complex engravings on them and each soldier wielded a different weapon that emanated a similar glow.
The aura of the Sovereign welder's was terrifying and Titus looked away in fear. The last time they visited the coast was to drag away his father. Titus was taught to avoid them at all costs. To now see them in all their glory, he couldn't help but cower at their presence.
My mom successfully thrusted her xiphos into one of the welder's necks but the blade bounced away in the opposite direction as soon as it made contact with the blue hue on the armor. She gritted her teeth and continued to try in desperation to penetrate the armor. The short sword kept repelling off of any of the blue embroidery and the inquisitor stood indifferently at her futile attempts.
Up until now she had been a lethal protector of her children, having killed several ghouls throughout her perilous years on the coast. Amidst her assaults, she slipped and fell to one knee; out of breath and shaking from exhaustion. The welder she assaulted offered her a hand up.
The welders weren't brutes, they had an elegance to their movements, each action calculated with a graceful reverence. If it wasn't for the atrocities they caused towards the people of the coast one would think of them as angels.
Underneath all that shiny armor and menacing weapons was just a human, but one that had enormous pride because of the glorious purpose they had instilled in them since birth. Trained vigorously to deal out the peak elite's orders with lethal precision.
My mother gathered her courage and took the welder's hand; she did not use it to assist her in standing up, instead she pulled them down to her level, using her other hand to caress the back of the helmet.
She leaned in and gently kissed the neck of the man underneath the armor, inching her fingers underneath the visor of their helmet. For a moment the welder froze, allowing her attempt to seduce him.
The bottom of his freshly shaven jawline was revealed and the visor continued to raise as her lips approached his. Moments before they converged she licked her lips and smiled before sinking her teeth into the man's neck.
The other welders quickly unsheathed their weapons as mother spit out the chunk of flesh and the seduced welder clutched his throat, struggling to scream.
He held up his hand to the armed welders and shoved my mom aside.
He glanced down at her thigh where part of her petite mark was shown. A tattoo of a beautiful red hummingbird with intricate engravings of ancient mystical flowers surrounding it rested just above her knee.
Blood continued to drip down his chest as the welder struggled to speak.
"Do not kill her yet. Her marking is of the supreme gods. We hate your kind, always thinking you're better than us. Let's take this to the bedroom and teach her who's the superior vessel. One of ya'll stay behind and kill the kids"
A short welder with a weapon resembling a crossbow revolver took off his helmet revealing his young features. He nodded at the seduced welder as the rest of them dragged off Lola by her hair into the bedroom.
Little Titus remained silent and held his breath as the young welder sat in front of the door. The whimpers of his mother could be heard in painful clarity but Titus's mind was overwhelmed with fear.