He was back on his peaceful balcony on Prion, reading his tablet, and tried to enjoy the breeze around him, but it felt damp and cold. He struggled to lift his tablet with his right hand, but it kept on failing him. A fleeting thought passed through his mind reminding him that he was not on Prion; he was snatched up in a dark forest and dragged away from his protection. Three figures fighting in the fog danced like a disorganized circus act. It was not clear; something was wrong. Was he asleep? The thoughts raced in his head.
It was cold, the fog was thick, and the forest sounds grew louder. Animals were fighting out in the distance, growing louder and softer at random. At some point, it sounded like the animals were fighting in the trees above.
“He stays here.” It was burnt in his mind. It brought pain to his gut. How could they? Slowly the sounds of the forest grew louder, the fog was thick, and it was early morning. It was the next day. His eyes opened, his smell returned, the rotting smell of dead plants and contaminated water filled the air; it was thick, he breathed heavily. Not from the stale air around him, though, from something else. A pain in his shoulder burnt straight through him; it made his lungs weak. He turned onto his stomach and tried to push himself up, but his right hand failed, causing him to fall flat on his face. The pain in his shoulder was unbearable.
He took a few breaths, thought about his situation, and looked around him. The trees blocked out whatever sky was there, and there was no living thing near him beside the trees and the various plants filling the undergrowth. Then, not too far, he saw a stone big enough to lean on to help him to his feet. At least, he thought, his feet are still strong, he will be able to stand on his own with no problems. Getting up from the ground was the challenge. He tried to push himself with his legs, dragging his right arm in the dirt and guiding with his left arm. The pain was excruciating, but in his mind, it was better than laying there to die.
He was semi-conscious when they left him there alone in the forest, he heard some of the conversations, but the words coming from Izzar “He stays here.” lit a fire in his heart; he had genuine hatred for the boy who would leave him to die alone in a forest he did not know, on a world, he did not belong in. Knowing Izzar was very adept at fighting, he never imagined taking him on in a dual, though he had patience on his side. He would not harm Izzar, especially not in the state he was. Going back to the citadel was not an option. Indeed he would be locked up and would wait for his execution to come by the hands of evil. He closed his eyes and imagined being on his spot on the balcony at the Grand Library on Prion; it was a peaceful life, one absent from pain and suffering.
Somehow his father knew it was terrible for him to come here; the tears in his eyes made more sense now. Finally, though, he gave him up, he thought to himself, abandoned his son to be murdered in a world where they will never find his corpse. He lived his entire life in a world covered in a massive city, where flora has become relics of the ancient days, where not a single patch of woods or jungle existed. The only things he knew about such overgrown places were the things he read in the databanks of the Grand Library. He was physically fit; everyone in the Grand Library was forced into a rigorous training program to avoid obesity and weak muscle structure, but he was not fit enough for this.
Aargon finally reached the rock and managed to pull himself up and onto the stone; exhausted by the effort, he stopped to catch his breath. The pain in his shoulder was throbbing up his neck, his lungs felt like they had collapsed, and his nose was running. The last thing he needed was an infection. Infection, he thought to himself, placing his hand on his shoulder. There was a moment before Izzar and Viha left him that he could feel Izzar entering his body. Was that even possible? He couldn’t know. He saw what Izzar saw; there was a bite mark on his shoulder, poison was injected into his body, though it acted as a tranquilizer to render its prey immobile.
His eyes glanced from one side to another, looking for something, studying his surroundings. But, unfortunately, none of the plants or the trees seemed familiar to him. He was hoping to see a Hell-in-a-cell plant; it was a plant that carried berries with healing abilities. According to his studies, these plants were found in almost every single world inhabited by humans. But, unfortunately, it did not seem like there were any around on Dessix. His mouth was also dry; he could feel his tongue rubbing like rubber in his mouth; he hadn’t had anything to drink for at least a day.
There was no time to sit on a heap and die; this was not going to be the end; he would track down Izzar and prove to him that he wouldn’t have slowed him down. The only problem that faced him was that he did not know which way they were traveling. Everything in the undergrowth looked the same. One tree here looked precisely the same as there, and so did the ferns, tremendous leaved plants, and moss on the ground. The dry, dead leaves may give him a clue, but even that seemed to have been packed neatly back together to cover their tracks.
His body felt heavy; with all his strength, he picked himself up. Another sensation seemed to take over this time: Hunger. He has not eaten for a good time since he left Prion; he never ate much, but he never anticipated going deep into a jungle would build up such an appetite.
One step at a time, he walked in the direction he thought Izzar and Viha wandered into; with determination, the pain in his shoulder and the hunger in his stomach seemed to fade. He passed some trees and then more trees, a rock here and a wet patch of ground there. Everything looked the same. He fell to the next tree and rested his head in the fold of his arm as his other hung lifelessly on his side. His eyes were closed, thinking about home, his father, brothers, and sisters in the Library. It was all gone; even if he managed to escape Dessix, he would never be able to return to them.
He slowly opened his eyes with tears running down his cheeks; he could not stop the emotions from taking over. He was looking at something on the bark of the tree, something that did not belong; it took a moment or two before he realized he was looking at claw marks that injured the tree's bark. Then, finally, he moved away to look at the entire scar; it was big; some beast in the forest must have made these.
Having no knowledge of plant anatomy, he couldn’t tell whether the fault was fresh or a day old. He looked around, and as far as the thick morning fog allowed him to see, he noticed a trail through the undergrowth with many trees scared along the way. Reluctance kept him standing where he was for a long while. So what if he finds the beast? There was no way for him to defend himself. He would be eaten alive.
There was no time to think; he moved. Pain shot up from his shoulder into his head, his stomach growled, and his mouth felt like sun-dried rubber. His clothes were heavy. Also, the fog was thick and wet, making his clothes wet. One would think he was running around in the rain. His arm was also growing heavy; he needed to make a plan. The clothes he wore were too harsh for him to try and tear to create an armrest.
The large leaves of one of the ground plants seemed to be a perfect candidate. At first, he struggled to remove the leaf, but after one final attempt, it came loose, sending Aargon on his back; pain filled his body, though not enough to keep him down on the floor. He grabbed the leaf and slowly crawled towards the nearest tree; he managed to stand up again with a lot of effort. He noticed liquid flowing out on the leaf's stem; it could only be water, he thought to himself. With a ferocious thirst burning his mouth, he held the stem over his mouth to allow the liquid to flow into his mouth.
It was the freshest water he had ever tasted, sweet to the taste. The energy seemed to flow back into Aargon; he hadn’t felt this good for a while. Managing with one hand, the leaf perfectly fit around his neck and under his right arm. The relief was good though the pain was still there.
The sun rose quickly, the forest's dark shadows grew lighter, the fog became thin, and Aargon could see further into the woods. Finally, managing to reach an opening, he could see the citadel towering over the forest a short distance away; it was not where he wanted to go.
Heavy footsteps moved quickly in the distance, growing louder and more severe as they approached him; this was the last thing he needed. There was only one thing he could do: muster the energy to run. Where would he run? The citadel. As fast as he was moving in the undergrowth, the giant creature behind him was even quicker. The rattling of the branches and the cracking of the ground moving closer brought a paralyzing fear over Aargon, he fell to his face, and the world around him grew dark.
A dark world stood before him. A sun as bright as a thousand Prionnese suns put together in the sky was not enough to light the world around him; it was empty and Void of any matter. The sun came down to him, and it landed in his hands, it was extremely bright, but he could still look into it. The universe was in his hands, teaming with life, only one force holding it all together.
Izzar walked towards him beyond the darkness and took the sun from him, his grin evil and sinister. Then, with no remorse, Izzar consumed the sun, and everything became dark the darkest dark, and the kind where light does not exist, thus no color or form visible to the eye. It took a while, but Izzar started to glow with the light of the sun; satisfied with what he had done, he laughed. He looked at Aargon and smiled.
“He stays here.” Those burning words, pain in his chest caused him to fall to his knees. Once again, he looked up at Izzar; there was a pain in his face, a struggle deep down. The light was growing brighter; heat emanated from him; it was too much for his body to handle. Then, in a spectacular explosion, Izzar disintegrated, and all the light vanished; even the sun was no more. Complete darkness and extreme cold were left.
Aargon woke with cold sweat on his brow; his breathing was heavy. It was only a dream, he thought to himself, not realizing he was holding himself up with both his arms, and all pain in his shoulder was gone.
“That was a premonition.” So said a deep, hollowing voice from within the dark cave he realized he was in. A giant beast appeared out from the shadows looking down on him with hunger. Aargon could not contain his fear; he was shaken to his core; he backed up into the wall clenching his eyes tightly.
“I will not harm you.” The voice was intense, profound. It was like a god speaking inside a great hall of a cathedral. It demanded respect.
“Your dream was a premonition… a vision of the future.”
“What-What do you mean?” His stutter was rich; it had no place in his speech.
“If you do not destroy this boy, Izzar; the universe he will destroy.”
The beast sat down with him, not removing his gaze from him.
“There are powers in this universe that you do not understand. The power to destroy a mountain pale in comparison to what the power can actually do. It has shown you in a dream what it can achieve. Izzar will achieve that power if he is not destroyed. I do understand you have a score to settle with the boy?”
“He has left me to die in the woods.” Aargon was inspecting his shoulder, confused that his broken color bone was healed.
“This power, The Void as I call it, does not just have the power to destroy, but to create and heal.” The beast pointed a long nail towards his shoulder, Aargon understood.
“Is this power limited to only a few?” The beast chuckled, finding the question amusing. He had heard it a million times.
“My boy, this power is not limited to any individual but to all living and non-living beings. Even a robot developing consciousness can wield this power.”
It was amazing, never had he read on such a power. The fact that a robot can possess this kind of power made him doubt, it couldn’t be possible for a non-living being to have such natural capabilities. It was impossible. His shoulder was evidence that this power did exist. Not without proper medical care was that bone going to heal.
“How would I learn this power?” His question was careful; he was unsure whether he desired to possess this power or not.
The beast stood up and disappeared into the darkness of the cave. “Come.” Were his only words. Aargon jumped to his feet and rushed behind the beast, not caring whether he was in danger or not. They hadn’t walked far when they arrived in what looked like a large hall with an altar in the middle. On the altar stood a stone glowing blue; the beast pointed at it.
“Touch that stone, and you will begin your journey into The Void.”
Aargon moved slowly, unsure what awaited him; it was impossible to judge if the beast was trustworthy. Finally, he stood by the stone, looking at it with wonder. Now was the time for him to decide to touch the stone or walk away.
