The night had begun to fade, the first light of dawn a faint promise on the horizon, painting the sky with strokes of pink and purple. Arteus stumbled through the village, his breath coming in ragged puffs of white that hung in the air like ghosts of his shattered dreams. His eyes searched every face that peered through the windows, desperately seeking a glimmer of the friendship he had once known. But all he found was the cold embrace of rejection.
As the sun's first rays kissed the rooftops, he reached the warm, welcoming sanctuary of his mother's cottage. The wooden door, stood firm against the biting wind. He pushed it open, the warmth of the interior wrapping around him like a comforting embrace, a stark contrast to the frigid air outside. Hanna looked up from the steaming pot she was stirring, her face a picture of relief and concern.
"Arteus!" she gasped, dropping the spoon with a clatter and rushing towards him. Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of injury or distress. "Where have you been?" she asked, her voice tight with fear. She had been worried sick, pacing the floorboards, her mind conjuring up every imaginable horror that could befall a child alone in such a harsh winter.
He stumbled into her arms, the weight of his journey collapsing into the warmth of her embrace. Her fur-lined dress was like a warm blanket, the scent of her familiar herbs and spices a balm to his weary soul. He could feel her trembling as she held him, her warmth seeping into his frozen bones.
"They didn't want to play with me," Arteus sobbed into her shoulder, his breath hitching with every word. "They called me names, said I'm a curse..." His voice trailed off, lost in the sobs that racked his small frame.
Hanna held him tighter, her heart breaking with every tear that fell upon her dress. She had known the day would come when the whispers of his birth would turn to shouts of fear, but she had hoped for more time. More time to prepare him, to arm him with the strength and knowledge that lay within his veins. But fate had other plans, and now she had to be the shield that protected her son from the coldness of the world outside their cozy cottage.
"What did i do?" Arteus asked through chattering teeth, his eyes wide with confusion and pain. The children had scattered, leaving him alone in the cold embrace of the winter night, the only company the taunts that still echoed in his ears. "What's wrong with me??"
"Why won't they play with me anymore??" Arteus's voice was small and muffled against his mother's chest, the warmth of her embrace barely penetrating the icy barrier of his doubt and pain.
"Oh, Arty." His mother, Hanna, sobbed as she held him close, her heart aching with the pain of his innocence lost. Her embrace was tight, as if she could somehow hold onto the warmth of his youth and keep the cold of the world at bay. "They don't understand," she whispered, her own voice choked with emotion. "They don't understand and they're scared of what they don't know."
Tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing with the frost that clung to his hair. She had hoped to protect him from this, from the whispers and the fear that had followed her since the day he had been born.
"They don't understand," Hanna murmured, her voice a soothing balm against the harshness of the truth. "...Never forget, Arty..."
"You must never forget who you are," She said, "And never forget, your birthright."
Hanna's eyes searched his, her own brimming with tears. She knew the weight of the words she spoke, knew the burden she placed on his small shoulders. But there was no other way, no softer truth to ease the blow of the world's cruelty.
It was, what was owed to him after all.
-The Present-
Fast forward to the present and that very cliff he tumbled over all those years ago was now right in front of him, a shortcut that represented an opportunity for him to return to the village. To the warm embrace of his home.
"Ah... Aaah..." Arteus gasped, the air torn from his lungs as if by an invisible hand. He knew that he must proceed, driven by a primal instinct that whispered to him of a horror that had ravaged his village, and perhaps, claimed his mother as well.
Arteus took a step back from the precipice, the memories of his fall a stark reminder of his past. He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs, and steeled himself for what lay ahead. His mother's words echoed in his mind, a beacon of hope in the frozen wasteland of his doubt.
Gathering the shreds of his courage and summoning a strength hitherto untapped, he sprinted with a velocity that defied the very laws of nature. The ground seemed to shudder beneath his tread, the very atmosphere to part as he run across the landscape. His heart, a caged creature, hammered in his chest, an inexorable drum that urged him ever onward.
With a roar that could have come from the very depths of the volcano he had just left, Arteus leaped off the cliff, his muscles coiling like the springs of a steel trap. For a moment, he hung in the air, his body a silhouette against the pink-tinted dawn. The snow below him was a churning sea of white, a frozen maelstrom waiting to swallow him whole.
And then... crash!
The sound of shattering wood and a thunderous impact shook the stillness of the early dawn. The red-square, the largest and most prominent store in Barley, had been silent witness to many a dawn, but none quite like this. Arteus crashed through the thatched roof, his fall abruptly interrupted by the splintering of sturdy beams and the explosion of snow and straw.
...In a daze, he staggered to the entrance, his eyes devouring the desolate structure with a desperation that knew no bounds.
And as he pushed open the door, the once bustling heart of the village lay still and mute. A crimson snowfall painting the cobblestone streets in a macabre ballet of death. The cries of the lost and the forsaken echoed in his ears, a symphony of sorrow that drowned all other sound.
The boy had returned to Barley.
-To Be Continued-