Chereads / Atlas I: Lost Memories / Chapter 3 - The Beginning of the Tradition.

Chapter 3 - The Beginning of the Tradition.

New's spread widely across every country, each Leading Clan had known of the 24 Nade participants and the 24 human participants. Many started to say that this year's Tradition will be the most important in the past 40 Sun's. Since, for the first time, two opposing leading clans will participate.

But that wasn't what amazed everyone.

It was news that "Azrael" would participate this year, as a human hybrid.

Not as a Nade.

Azrael is what I believe a myth, or a legend of a human who was born as I, a hybrid, yet he would come to rescue the humans from the death of the Nades hands. Many believe that Azrael was their savior, even though they never saw him or her, or it. But it was somehow a ray of light for those in darkness. So, hearing the news that Azrael was indeed real, it was a shock for everyone, nonetheless if he would participate in the Tradition. Maybe I could finally see if this myth lives up to its name.

When I woke up from the fire, my body ached. My hands were tied above my head, legs tied, mouth and eyes covered. Yet I could feel the cold wind flowing through me, the distant leaves and trees rustling around me. And water flowing. Where was I? Had the Tradition already begun? My chest ached. When I heard around me, the sound of someone breathing, their struggling, their huffs. Next to me, I could hear specifically, a tender and soft voice. Could it be a woman? Maybe a child? I began to try and find a way to set myself free, but nothing worked. What kind of knot was this, my fingertips stretched among the fine lines of the string around my wrist. Even as time began to pass, this position was tiring, my efforts led to nothing, and the sun began to get hotter, my thirst began to swell up, and the stress soon began to bang the back of my head, drilling itself inside my skull, and I knew, I couldn't get out. Soon, the person besides me stopped making noise. Which just made everything else worse, somehow their noise made me feel like I wasn't alone. At least somebody was suffering alongside me. But their silence was suffocating. After a few more hours in the sun, I began to think that maybe they had managed to escape from these strings and ran away. Which was worse. It meant they didn't help me. However, I tried not to think much of this idea, and I still tried to get myself untangled from the strings, in time, I began to decipher the only way I could only do so was by hurting myself in the process. It was the only way, so in the exhaustion caused by the sun, I pulled my wrists apart, as the string around them began to step down into my skin, slowly piercing it, cutting it. The red blood began to drip from my wrist to my shoulders, and then snaped. In an instant my body fell over to the ground, apparently, I was higher than expected, but the soothing grass and leaves were a treasure. I took the blindfold off, the restrainer in my mouth, and soon, I was met with the intense lack of color, everything around me was in completely darkness, as the giant trees towered up to the skies, not letting an ounce of light through, but, in this spot. As I looked around me, I saw other strings around me, blood on the fallen leaves, 4 people were here. All tied. I was the last one. In an instant I knew this was the Tradition. The night arrived faster than usual; the trees made it difficult to find any source of light. I haven't seen anyone nor any type of animal or anything with life. No insects, no mammals, no nothing. I stayed above the ground, something about it made me feel safer. Even though there was nothing alive near me, I could still feel the same aching pain of being watched. As I stared at the only hole in the light that came though the sun, the lurking sun began to hide away, as the darkness began to eat it, as soon as the last bit of sun touched it. I knew the Tradition had finally begun.