11.1

 

No one in the village believed me when I pointed at a walking mushroom once. And no one believed when I told them that I had seen a flying horse in the forest, but no one told me I had lied either. They believed in my imagination. My mom... My sweet mom asked the historian of the village to teach me the basics of writing thinking highly of my imagination... I was good with that, I was very fine... I mean, life was pretty beautiful. It wasn't hot in the village and people treated me well. And even though I failed most of the school's exams no one told me I was idiot, even though I believe I was.

I loved how breezy our village was, and how green. Full of climbing plants, the people used them to cover the houses and to decorate the floor. Every week the farmers would trim the plants according to these desires. But, I couldn't forget the one time I tasted the breeze of the forest, and how soft the grass of that one glade was. I was taken, the air there was somehow... fresh?

Nah...

That wasn't the reason I sneaked out there every day. It was a simpler reason. But a logical one, at least for me... I loved it when mom would come search for me. I loved her calls throughout the forest "Sweetie, where are you sweetie?", even though she knew where I was lying, in that fresh and breezy glade, rolling on its grass and laughing for no reason. Sometimes I tried to hide from her, wishing for her to find me, and she never failed. The huge tree in the center of the glade became our secret base in no time.
I wonder if our names were still inscribed on it.

"Sweetie, I was worried," my mom said, with her alluring smile. One hand extended to me, tempting me into her warm and tendering body.

I couldn't refuse her love. And returned with her to the village.

A simple life, a small village in a peaceful forest full of walking tiny mushrooms and beautiful flying horses. A village full of happy farmers, and good people. I had many friends too. And I was popular, two of my classmates had confessed to me. At that time I was twelve and my sister told me I should marry one when I become seventeen, after all, one of them was the head's son. I couldn't be more proud. 

Aaaah, such a beautiful life...

At winter nights I used to help my father collect firewood, we didn't have electricity or the internet after all. Those were legends passed by my teacher and the passing by merchants. In no time I developed a dream, to get that metallic structure that merchants called internet tower and those flip devices they called phones, I had decided to gift one for my mom, one for my dad and one for the man I would marry.

I was satisfied, really satisfied. My life wasn't complicated, the teacher told me that she would let me pass the final exam and never mentioned how idiot I was. And my sister got married to a funny guy who would often bring me chocolate.

But God wasn't as helpful as I was told, he wasn't merciful either.

It was a great day. To begin with, I woke energetically, My klutz's head told me to sleep some extra minutes, and eventually, I went late to school. The school keeper scolded me and didn't let me in, so I had only one place to go.

I loved racing the wind from my village to the glade I had always used. One tree after the other, my eyes got brighter and brighter, I trembled twice though, after all, I imagined my mother’s face when she would know that I had skipped school. She wasn't as merciful when it came to school after all.

I reached the glade of love and comfort, lied, and took a deep breath. Stared at the clear sky and said: "I wish this day will last forever."

I wish I had never said those words.

As I completed, something passed above me, it was a moment, the sunlight was covered for a moment and something flashed above, maybe twice or thrice. 

I bolted up scared of the quaking ground. All the trees around the glad and throughout my sight dropped on the ground in clear cut pieces. That was when I began gasping. I walked, my breath short, jogged, ran, and with a blank mind, I sprinted back to the village… But that was no village.

How much paint did the villagers need to paint the whole village's ground red? How did they pay, that was bad, really bad… At this rate, the village would go bankrupt… 

W- what should... I do? 

I needed to clean the paint, I needed to shape the houses back... And... And...

I looked down, a head was waving on the paint...

I held the head with both hands...

I looked around and saw a body... Yea, I had to return my mom's head back to her body. She came just to call me, she was about to leave the village and call me, she was a few minutes of shout 'sweetie sweetie' the way I loved.

And then... I came back to my mind. That was no paint, I knew clearly… It was warm, and those half sliced bodies were everywhere.  and those homes were all collapsed to the ground.

As soon as I became aware... I snapped.

"kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" I gasped, "Graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa," I threw my mom's head, fell on the ground, flopped like a fish, and my eyes rolled back and forth. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew it wasn't a dream, I knew how real were the surroundings and how a disgusting the blood I dived in was,

My father!

My father was strong, he was able to walk back from the forest with two gigantic bags of firewood by himself. He shouldn't be dead, and He should have protected my sister as well.

I ran through the village, my steps heavy due to the viscous blood and the gentle breeze I had always loved dried the blood on my body. The road to my house never felt further and my body never been weaker, I was unable to scream, or even to whine, I was busy gasping my lungs out... But, it was never a dream. And despite how much I wished not to see them I had seen them eventually. I reached my neighborhood and witnessed my father's sliced body, in the garden, behind a man I had never seen.

In the middle of the neighborhood garden, a man was sitting on a floating sickle that seemed twice his size, one of his legs swinging down, and the other's knee crossing against his chest. The man's hair was white and two small cat-ears extended out of his head. Scared of waking that man up, I stepped back, but stumbled on a head and dabbled onto the blood. The man's cat-like ears trembled as he rose his head looking at me. 

Tilting his head to the side, his gray eyes lifeless and wide, the man waved at me, "Yo!" A quiet smile wore his face, "I have yet to tell you my name..."

 

"call me… The Humans Reaper."

………

Yea, I had known.

Why every time I fell asleep I keep having this nightmare? Why I keep seeing that reaper, why I can't do anything?? Why?

Why?

Why?

I would never die. I could never die before killing him, Marcilla!

..................

11.2

She opened her eyes, the place was so blurry but she could hear the water tornado above her…

"M- Marcilla" her eyes flooded with tears, "Marcilla, I won't die right?" her nose flowing along with her eyes. 

"Marcilla, you will save me, right?" she sniffed, "Mar-ci..." she wanted to whine, to cry her chest out... she wanted to die, more than anyone else... But, she had people to avenge... She couldn't die before seeing him again... she just couldn't.

What shall I do... Marcilla... I can't die.

And then, a voice echoed in her head.

I will protect you forever, The voice breathed in, and continued, sleep sweetie, leave the rest to me.

Hearing that voice, Arkan closed her eyes.

Trace's water tornado struck the ground. As he couldn't take the damage himself, he jumped at the last second away from the whole glade. After a few minutes, the tornado vanished turning the whole glade into a cracked, broken, and barren hole. By the edge of the hole, Trace looked for Arkan's remanents, but they were nowhere to be found.

He took a deep breath through his nostrils and spotted her sprinting away.

This woman is fabulous.

He looked at her direction, flexed his hamstrings, and as he was a millisecond from lunging, a breeze hit him and he dropped on his knees…

What was that? 

Trace had just felt a thing he had never felt during the passing thousand years, what had felt wasn't a high demon, and wasn't someone a bit stronger than a high demon as well... It was the presence of someone of another realm, and that presence was glaring at his back.

 

That feeling of being eaten alive? Who in earth had emitted such a feeling?

Trace gulped in his saliva as he turned. No one was there.

"It's above."

He looked up, a man was floating, his cloak stable amidst the storm and his only visible eye illuminating red, its glare emitting death everywhere.

The man moved his lips, "are you the one who is causing chaos in my forest?"

His voice quiet, but broad. Every single creature in the forest heard it clearly. 

Trace had enough instinct to understand that against this man he wouldn't win, he would never even wish to win…

But...

Had he ever lost before?

he was lucky and was always right, he would never die...

He looked at the man, forcing his teeth to sneer.

"Y-yes."

Sweat dripped on his face.

"I see," the man said as he touched his chest with his palm... and slapped the air.

Great pressure kicked Trace and blew the whole ground under him into ashes. The floating man blinked once to see another glade-sized hole. He couldn't control his power after all.

He sighed, the talked with broad voice: "Rozalia, prepare some hot water for me, I'm pretty sweaty."

Deep in the forest, by a window of her castle, Rozalia smiled, played the strings of her guitar again, and said: "Prepare it yourself."

And as those two smiled, far in the sky. A girl who was playing chess...

smiled as well.

Aaaah, I'm tired. Yesterday, my work place called for me telling me my part job will resume despite the social distancing. Yesterday was pretty busy, I mean I had an exam and a report discussion as well...
So back to the important stuff, How are you?

Hope the chapter was good, what do you think will happen next?

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