It seems delicious.
Feels lively.
It has blood in its veins!
I want to eat it!
Arat's gaze was fixed at the small, white lamb, he was breathing heavily mirroring the primal groan of a beast, the imaginary scent of blood in his nostrils and the taste of warm meat in his mouth deluded his thoughts. It was as if the very air around him had turned to the scent of a fresh kill.
The irresistible urge to clench my teeth in it is driving me crazy!
Emotions surged through Arat; the intensity of his feelings overwhelmed his thoughts. His hands, encased in dark-brown leather gloves, slowly reached for the lamb's neck. The small, terrified creature gazed up at him with wide, innocent eyes, trembling under his touch. Arat's fingers began to tighten, his grip becoming firmer around the lamb's soft, vulnerable throat.
The reflection of the lamb's pleading eyes flickered in the surface of Arat's iron mask. The sound of desperate bleating was a cry of fear and pain as the lamb struggled against his tightening hold. Its legs kicked out in a frantic attempt to break free, but Arat's grip remained unyielding. The creature's desperate struggle for life played out before him, its helplessness reflected in the metal mask he wore, a stark reminder of the power he held over the fragile life in his hands.
Thud
Thud
Thud
The sound of footsteps echoed loudly, but Arat was so engrossed with the lamb that he didn't even notice it.
"You want to eat it?"
Arat suddenly snapped back to his senses, releasing the lamb's neck as he turned his head toward the voice. A huge figure loomed in the doorway of the barn, blocking out almost all the sunlight. The silhouette was so massive that it filled the entire frame, casting a long shadow over the room.
For Arat, it felt like emerging from an illusion; the colors around him seemed to sharpen and brighten. The dark brown wooden walls of the barn came into focus, the scattered straw on the ground caught his eye, and the familiar sounds of the sheep and goats, along with their pungent smell, brought him fully back to his human senses.
The man stood around two meters tall, his white skin stretched over a muscular frame, marked by numerous scars some small and minor, others wide and long. His white hair covered only the back of his head, leaving his scalp exposed, which gleamed faintly in the diminishing light. He stood there, rooted firmly like a tree, his presence commanding the entire space.
Arat's worried expression behind his mask betrayed him, leaving no room for him to hide anything. He was stunned by the man's deep, dark-green eyes, surrounded by wrinkles that spoke of age and wisdom. The solemn and meaningful gaze felt as if the old man was peering directly into his soul, understanding everything without a word being exchanged.
Arat who was on his knees near the lamb quickly lowered his head, his eyes became locked onto a pair of dark-brown leather boots worn and scratched from years of use.
"I… I…, I didn't, no, I couldn't control it grandpa."
The only answer he heard was silence. It was a heavy, suffocating silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Arat's heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears as his anxiety grew. He dared not move, his gaze fixed on the ground, unable to muster the courage to lift his head and meet his grandfather's eyes.
Is he angry, what is he looking at, what's the expression on his face, will he punish me? What will he do? lock me in the room or…
After what felt like an eternity, countless thoughts raced through Arat's mind, his imagination running wild with fear, guilt, and confusion. The tension seemed unbearable, each second stretching into eternity. Then, breaking the silence, he heard a sigh from above, a sound heavy with weariness and understanding.
The old leather boots that had filled his vision began to move away, stepping out of his line of sight. Arat could only listen as the sound of his grandfather's footsteps echoed in the barn, as expected of the deliberate steps of a man who had seen much in his life, each step felt like a weight lifted, yet the heaviness in the air remained, lingering around Arat as he struggled to compose himself.
he went outside… what will he do now? this means I'm off the hook or is he still thinking about how to punish me?
The old man said with a hoarse voice
"Come on now, we will talk about it after the breakfast"
Arat remained hesitant, his head still bowed as if afraid that lifting it would shatter the fragile relief he felt. The absence of reprimand from his grandfather filled his heart with an unexpected joy, a sense of reprieve he hadn't anticipated. As his eyes dared to rise, they caught sight of his grandfather's broad back, draped in a brown sleeveless shirt, moving steadily on the grass field outside.
That broad back was like a shield, a comforting barrier between Arat and the world. In his young mind, his grandfather often seemed like an enormous, ancient tree. Solid, immovable, and strong enough to withstand anything. A protector in every sense.
But just as Arat began to relax, his grandfather turned his head slightly, his dark-green eyes finding the boy's gaze even from a distance. The look wasn't stern or unkind, but it carried the weight of understanding and unspoken expectations. It was as if the old man was reminding Arat of something essential, something beyond the need for words.
The small figure was dressed in an unusual outfit that concealed nearly every inch of his body. A gray linen shirt draped over his slight frame, tucked into brown pants that were fastened with a leather belt. His hands were encased in light brown leather gloves, and a rusty iron mask obscured most of his face, giving him an eerie, almost otherworldly appearance.
The mask left only his striking light green eyes visible, gleaming with a mixture of innocence and something deeper, more mysterious. His black hair, slightly unkempt, peeked out from under the edges of the mask, the only other part of him not hidden away. It was a peculiar ensemble, especially for a child, and it made him seem older, more distant, as if he were guarding secrets far beyond his years.
The old man then stroked his long white woven beard that reached below his chest deliberately. and thought to himself
"He's grown up now, 13 years, it has passed way too quickly. Soon, I'll need to do what I've kept delaying all these years."
"After we eat I shall see how good you have become at the techniques I taught you"
Said his grandfather with a faint smile that was almost unrecognizable under the many snowy strands of hair that covered his mouth.
Arat was amazed, his eyes widened in surprise as he said:
"No consequences? Nothing? on top of that I can even spar?"
But why? Grandpa has always been serious on this matter. what has got to him?
Dashing outside, Arat was immediately embraced by the fresh scent of grass and the warmth of the morning sun. The cool, crisp air was a welcome change from the stifling, pungent atmosphere of the barn. With a burst of energy, he leaped forward, throwing himself at his grandfather with all the joy and exuberance of a child.
He wrapped his arms around the old man's leg. The weight of Arat's joy was palpable, though his smile remained hidden behind the rusty iron mask he wore. His grandfather, still sturdy as ever, barely flinched at the impact
"You are the best grandpa"
It shocked the old one for a moment his pupils became wider and his eyebrows went up.
"You have become quite fast for a little monkey"
Arat laughed briefly then said:
"Guess I'm growing up"
The old man chuckled softly and said:
"Of course you are. With the amount you eat, you should be as big as me already."
"Grandpa how did you got so big?"
"Well, I actually don't know much"
Arat's grandfather began, his deep voice resonating as he walked across the grass,
"One day, my old man told me, 'Ganz, you're so small and scrawny that if a strong wind were to blow, it would take you with it."
He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest.
"So, I started eating twice, sometimes thrice the amount I ate before," the old man continued, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. "And before I knew it, everyone had to lift their heads just to look at my face."
He paused, glancing over his shoulder at the boy.
"But you, Arat, you eat even more than I did back then, and yet here you are, still a shrimp."
His tone was teasing, but there was a warmth in his words, a rough affection that only someone like him could express.
Arat looked up at his grandfather with wide, curious eyes.
"Really? If I eat more, I can get big like you?" he asked eagerly.
The old man let out a hearty chuckle, shaking his head.
"Nah,"
he replied with a teasing smile,
"you're just a shorty. There's no helping it."
It seems that he is not angry at all, what's gotten into him? His humor is unparalleled today.
Arat gathered all his courage, repeated the words he wanted to say in his head then said:
"Grandpa, why did you not punish me? you were always serious on this stuff"
"That's what I want to talk about after the break-fast, that is after you let go of my leg."
The playful banter between Arat and his grandfather continued, until they reached the edge of a quaint garden. Wooden fences, crafted from sturdy oak, marked the boundary of the property. Beyond them, a vibrant garden brimming with colorful flowers and shrubs greeted them.
At the center of the garden stood a charming wooden cottage. Its multifaceted hipped roof, supported by thick oak pillars, gave the building an imposing yet comforting presence. The light brown walls, built from burly wood, exuded warmth, while a stone chimney puffed out soft wisps of smoke, completing the picture of homely tranquility.
As the cottage came into full view, Arat's dashed ahead, throwing open the garden gate with a burst of energy and racing toward the cottage, leaving Ganz to follow at his own pace.
Ganz paused at the gate; his eyes drawn to the forest that bordered the clearing. The trees stood tall and still, their dense foliage casting deep shadows across the ground. Something in the woods held his attention, and he narrowed his eyes, studying the dark spaces between the trunks. A faint tension crossed his weathered face as he grabbed his left bicep and squeezed it, feeling the solid muscle beneath his grip. A nod of satisfaction followed, though his gaze lingered on the forest as if searching for something hidden within its depths.
"I still have it in me"
he murmured in a low voice
Ganz closed the door after entering the house. The burly wood floor of the corridor made creaking noises as he took his steps toward the main hall, all walls were from light-brown oak planks, a painting was hung on the wall, on the other side iron nails acted as coat-hangers, moving forward there were wooden furniture and a long dining table with some chairs around it at the center of the house, on the left a fire place made of stone along with iron pots, soup cauldrons and other kitchen utensils resided, some dried fruits and meat were hanging on a rope wrapped around one of the wooden pillars of the roof, a pile of cheese and bread over a small wooden stand along with multiple clay jars could be seen as well.
on the right two rooms could be seen one had a desk and a chair in the middle the rest of the room was occupied with bookshelves and a spacious chest crafted from black iron stood prominently. The chest was adorned with intricate silver inlaid patterns it was large enough that a grown man could easily lay inside it.
The other room had a simple bed, a shelf filled with wooden toys or figures carved out of wood, mineral stones and crystals.
Arat went and chose two relatively fresh bread loans then cut some cheese with a knife. His grand-father Ganz then ripped apart a piece of the dried meat on the rope then opened one of the clay jars on the small wooden stand near the fire place he took a spoonful of the mixture of black and green powder directing it toward Arat, Arat took the spoon unwillingly the sharp scent of herbal powders burned his nostrils he slightly moved his mask without revealing his face and ate the bitter medicine.
While Arat was busy forcing down the bitter and spicy powder in his throat, his grand-father took a look at the contents of the table, his eyebrows clashed into each other
"Did you forget the butter?"
"There is none left, we are almost out of potato and onions too"
"Then I should go to village after we practice"
As Arat was eating the last pieces of cheese and meat with much enjoyment, Ganz took a sip of a cup on the table, placing it slowly on the table and said :
"So…, about what happened in the morning"
Arat's cheerful look disappeared instantly, he hardly swallowed a piece of the dried meat and looked at his grand-father in puzzlement trying to predict what he would say next.
"Your demonic desires, have they changed recently?"
He shifted his gaze from the cup to Arat, with stern eyes
"I feel them a lot more"
Ganz sighed…
"Listen, Arat, as you grow up these desires will intensify, the peak will be during your teenage years, which is not that far in the future, punishments won't help you, even us humans have uncontrollable desires at that age, once we do them, we will become addicted to some them, fortunately they are not dangerous most of the time."
He took a sip of the cup, and straightened his throat
"However, your desires mainly include harming living things, once you give in to that, an addiction will take hold, pulling you into a pit of misery and sin from which there's no escape. This means you'll have to rely on the sedative frequently, forever, or learn to control the urges within you."
"I get it, once I do it, I can't stop it right? But I have already done it in the past and without anyone to stop me even the spicy powder you give me doesn't help that much either."
"Then you shall not let it happen by all means necessary, lock yourself in a room, snap out of it by hurting yourself or in the worst situation take it out on an animal instead of a human, remember to kill is to steal one's life, and stealing is the greatest sin there is."
Arat who had already stopped eating looked at the old man with his shining green eyes through the mask and said :
"I will do my best"
he said, his voice small but determined.
The old man met his gaze, his expression stern but filled with a deep, unspoken care.
"Remember," he said gravely.
"Sometimes doing your best still won't be enough."
His words carried a hard truth, one that Arat would have to grapple with as he grew.
After Arat finally finished eating then Ganz pointed at the study-room.
"Arat quickly obeyed, heading toward the room. As he entered, his gaze was immediately drawn to the large black iron chest adorned with intricate silver patterns. The sheer size of the chest stirred his curiosity, but the heavy lock on it made it clear that its contents were off-limits. He tore his eyes away and approached a wooden rack filled with silver swords, some longer than the others and a few even taller than Arat himself. He took out his glove and touched the cold steel of one of the swords with the tip of his fingers.
I wonder when will grandpa let me use one of these.
Returning with the wooden practice sword and long staff, Arat walked across the grass-field until he reached where a circle was formed on the grass by stones laid on the ground, he gave the staff to his grand-father then stood in front of him and took his stand, Ganz swung the staff in the air the sound and the fluidity of his movement obvious. He glanced at the Arat in front of him and said :
"Show me"
Arat took a deep breath, his green eyes widening with determination. He tightened his grip around the hilt of the practice sword, which was held at his hip, the blade tip pointing behind him. With a sharp exhale, he twisted his body, bringing the sword forward in one swift motion. Summoning all his strength into his legs, he charged forward with a burst of speed, aiming a lethal strike at his grandfather.
Ganz blocked the incoming attack effortlessly by slightly moving the staff, Arat continued his relentless assault, each slash coming with increasing intensity. He mixed in heavy swings, channeling the full force of his body into each strike. His movements were formidable, and his footwork was solid, each step planted firmly as he advanced with confidence his strength was truly beyond any child.
As Arat's strikes began to lose their initial vigor, his speed waning with exhaustion, Ganz saw his opportunity. The bulky old man, towering over Arat, shifted his stance and with precise control, began to counterattack. With swift, deliberate movements, he targeted Arat's legs with the tip of his staff. Each strike was aimed carefully, designed not to injure but to unbalance and test Arat's defenses.
Arat's eyes darted down, desperately tracking Ganz's relentless strikes aimed at his legs. The rapid movement of the staff forced him to stay on the defensive, his upper body now exposed. Suddenly, one of the strikes changed direction mid-air, aiming directly at his chest. The unexpected move caught Arat off guard, forcing him to stumble back, narrowly avoiding the blow.
His heart raced as he retreated, twisting and turning to dodge the heavy attacks that came at him with increasing speed. Arat's nimbleness kept him just out of reach, but he could feel his energy waning. Each swing of the staff came closer, grazing his defenses, and he knew that if he didn't find a way to turn the tide, it would only be a matter of time before his grandfather landed a decisive hit.
Sweat dripped down his forehead, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he continued to fend off the attacks. Despite his best efforts, his movements were becoming sluggish, his legs trembling from the strain. Arat could sense the impending defeat, but he refused to give in, determined to hold on as long as he could.
Ganz on the other hand seemed to find his stride, the stiffness in his movements gradually melted away as his speed kept increasing in each strike, what had started as a deliberate, methodical series of strikes now turned into a seamless dance of offense. His towering form moved with surprising agility, the staff spinning and striking with precision, as if it were an extension of his body.
He has a weak point, I know it, I just have to find it, where is it? I need to look for an opening
while an attack was directed at his right foot the next one would go for his hip or side, noticing this Arat then parried the incoming attack, Ganz's eyes widened slightly as he observed Arat's growing adaptability
He saw it, not bad.
Arat who had found a chance to be offensive once more put his foot on the staff momentarily pinning it down. He shouted with excitement:
"You are mine now"
He twisted his body and unleashed a devastating slash towards his grand-fathers leg, Ganz's expression shifted from his usual calm demeanor to one of intense concentration.
He had finally started to take this seriously now, he twisted the staff, freeing it easily, then with a twist of his wrist, Ganz maneuvered the staff to intercept Arat's attack. the end of the thick wooden staff met the incoming wooden sword with a solid clash. To Ganz's amazement the sheer force of the attack broke the wooden staff shattering its end completely.
Hopefully, Arat's strike was successfully misdirected, he lost his balance and toppled onto the ground. Arat quickly lifted himself up starting to pat his cloth in order to get rid of the dirt and mud of the ground.
Ganz made a chuckle expressing his bewilderment.
"You can swing a sword at the very least, not bad for a kid"
Arat responded
"Swing a sword? I almost got you, don't act like you were expecting it"
"You are the one who ended up on the ground not me, bet you didn't expect that huh?
"But, I…"
Ganz continued:
"You died the moment you lost your balance, if this was a real fight it would have been the end! It doesn't matter if you got me or not once a spear pierces your back"
Arat hesitated for a few seconds looking at the old man while thinking.
he is right I leaved a few openings here and there, I broke the staff but I ended up on the ground somehow
"When you start a series of strikes you have to wear out your opponent not yourself, don't go all out until you run out of your breath. You have to manage the pace of your moves and catch your breath while doing so"
"I tried, but the moment I was about to recover you started attacking"
"That's exactly the problem you should be breathing from the very start, breathing the moment you find a chance while attacking, not waiting until you are out of breath"
The enlargement of Arat's eyes could be seen through the iron mask, he came to a realization.
"So that's how it is, breathing from the very start."
Ganz continued
"And once an enemy with a spear targets your leg don't take your eyes off of him, especially if he is tall, you were full of openings there I could easily target your head."
Arat said:
"I wanted to, but if I did that I would be hit, how can I avoid something like that?"
"Never take your eyes off of the enemy's entire body, if you do you can't predict the next attack you have to make distance. defending blindly will only result in getting hit and that's a fatal thing for a warrior."
"So, I have to back down and run away until I find a way"
Ganz nodded and said:
"Yeah, you got the drill of it, enough for today, go and put your sword back in its place"
After the intense training session, Arat nodded in acknowledgment of his grandfather's gesture, signaling the end of their sparring and made his way back toward the house, his breath still heavy from the exertion. Ganz followed closely behind him, his expression returning to its usual composed state.
As they both arrived near the entrance of the house, Ganz stretched his hands and cracked his knuckles and said:
"I will go to the village now, be sure to go inside and lock the door, don't show yourself through the windows"
Once inside, Ganz grabbed a small leather bag filled with coins from a nearby table. Next, he reached for a light-yellow velvet cloak hanging by the door and slung it over his broad shoulders. Finally, he picked up a straw basket that had been resting against the wall. Before stepping outside, Ganz turned back to Arat, who was already securing the lock on the door from the inside. He gave a firm nod, ensuring that everything was in order.
As Ganz approached the village, the familiar sight of wooden and stone buildings came into view. These structures were sturdy, made from the same durable materials as his own home, Beside the entrance stood two watchtowers. At the base of the towers, two men stood as watch guards. Their armor, was worn and ragged, dark-green cloth that had seen better days. their eyes constantly scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. Each equipped with a longbow slung across their backs, and a small horn hung from their belts, ready to be sounded in case of an emergency.
Passing the barricade and wooden spike walls Ganz entered the lively village. children were engaged in playful games with each other in the streets, the smoke of the smithies and bakeries could be seen coming out of their chimneys as the sound of hammering iron could be heard, in the center route of the village, Ganz came upon a small market area where several men had set up stalls, selling a variety of goods.
As Ganz was passing by one of the salesmen looked at the old man and said:
"Ah, Mr. Ganz, welcome. How have you been? Do you need something?"
The salesman's shop was full of leather armor hung on the wooden planks that separated his stall from the butchery next door, steel gauntlets were put on display hanging from the thin tree trunk that acted as the holder for the dark blue fabric which protected the salesman from the blinding sun, a few shields with steel nails and bended iron sheets around their perimeters were on the right corner and on the left a tall basket that sword hilts could be seen from it resided.
Ganz took out his hand and made a slight bow as a gesture of politeness and greeting.
"Hello Gil, I see you are doing well."
"Heh, not that much… seems like nobody needs to fight around here, not even the soldiers or mercenaries come across this damned dump. My business is dead."
"Well, isn't that wonderful?"
"Wonderful?"
"If your business starts to grow it just means that there are devils nearby"
The salesman chuckled while saying:
"Well, as the old saying goes, death brings life for a coffin-maker's business"
"Anyways, I'm here to buy some sedatives, do you have any left?"
The salesman scratched his ear and said:
"Unfortunately, it ran out a few days ago"
Ganz looked around towards other stalls for a brief moment, scanning the area, a woman in fine bright cloth and tantalizing armor with golden buckles, leg armor, and a black woolen cloak along with a two handed long-sword in a black leather sheath designed with silver inlays was looking at one of the other salesmen goods, suddenly Ganz's pupils became focused on the woman, his eyebrows moved, he didn't see anyone accompanying the woman. He asked with a serious tone:
"When did a devil bride came to the village?"
"Last night, as a matter of fact a dozen of them arrived, about ten women and thirty male soldiers, seems they have found a demon nest or something similar around here."
The man then tapped the left side of his chest with his right hand and said:
"May the hope of humanity be with them in the sacred war."
"May the hope of humanity be with them."
Said Ganz mirroring the same gesture.
"Did they say anything about why they came here specifically?"
"I was here when they arrived, I was a bit far so couldn't really hear but the woman in charge briefly talked with elder at the entrance of the village then he invited the old lady inside his house."
Ganz put a silver coin on the wooden table in-front of the salesman and said:
"Tell me more"
Without a word, the salesman brought the coin to his mouth, biting down on the edge with his teeth. The sound of metal on enamel was brief but sharp, and after a moment, the man grunted in approval. Satisfied with its authenticity, he pocketed the coin with a swift motion, he looked to his left and right to make sure no one was hearing their conversation then said:
"You should have seen the look on the elder's eyes he was about to shrink into the ground while talking to that devil bride, she seemed to be a piece of work I would say"
An old lady, a terrifying one?
Ganz stroked his white beard and said:
"Describe her"
"She was wearing a full golden body armor and a golden clock shining like the sun, her face was serious she had yellow eyes and vertical pupil just like a devil, she had rough short hair, a bit curly and she carried two rapier swords one on each side of her belt, her face exuded an special aura and on her chest plate there was the sigil of two daggers entangled into each other like vines in opposite directions vertically, I have never seen that sigil from the church, maybe she is a big shot or something"
Ganz tried his best to not show any obvious emotions, he nodded and said hmmm "she must be a fierce warrior."
" Well, I need to buy some groceries, I will come to you in the next few days for the sedatives"
Ganz left the salesman stall covering his face with his cloak's hood, fastening his steps almost entering a jugging state horridly running back to Arat.
ten devil brides and thirty soldiers… this amount is way too much for a simple devil nest, and if there was a nest here there is no way that no one would see any of the devils or be killed and captured by them, that's not why they came here.
The wooden top of the structure could be seen more and more as Ganz got near it about fifty meters away from the cottage Arat Opened the door and ran towards his grand-father with a small wooden object in his palm.
"Grandpa I made a new sculpture ….
Arat then stopped just after a few steps, seeing his grand-father sweating and running toward him with a worried face as if he had seen a monster.
When Ganz reached Arat he took of his hood and said:
"Arat, we are going on a trip; pack all the necessary thing you might need right now"
Arat was puzzled even though the Iron mask hid his face one could understand his enthusiastic mood disrupted.
"A trip? Now? Why? you always said if anything we should avoid that"
"Listen carefully, a large pack of demons had been seen near the village it is not safe here anymore, a group of warriors have come to fight them, there will be bloodshed here, we must go into the mountains until they get rid of the evil beasts here"
Arat started trembling he couldn't talk back or ask any of his questions.
Ganz continued
"Don't forget, only the most important things, also pick one of the swords, now go get ready"
"Pick a sword? You mean the real ones?"
Ganz nodded in affirmation:
"Just pick something comfortable that's not heavy"
Arat decided to trust his grand-father as he kept quiet, he nodded and followed the given instructions, he turned backward and took a step toward the house.
Why is he so afraid? there have been rumors of devils around here before a few times
The slight moment that Arat took his foot up on the ground for his next step toward the door, a faint but distinct sound reached his ears
Vushhh…
Before he could react, an unimaginable pain seared through his back—a burning agony far worse than anything he had ever endured. The shock and intensity of the pain made him stagger, and he instinctively looked down at his chest, bewildered by what he saw.
Looking down at his chest, Arat was stunned by the sight before him. A thin metal object was jutting out from his body, its sharp, shiny point covered in a dark liquid. His gaze followed the shaft of the arrow, tracing it back to where the black wood ended in his chest. Blood began to flow from the wound, a thick, black liquid that oozed from the puncture. The warmth of it spread quickly. The wound felt warm, so warm, burning him from the inside.