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Today, as always, John Sachiko completed his morning routine, including a rigorous exercise, and went down the stairs of his house, to where his wife, Mary, was cooking breakfast.
He eyed her up and down.
Decent looks, he thought, but nothing special. There were probably a hundred hookers that looked better than her. The reason John stayed with her was simply because he wanted to fit in. Not having a wife by 30 would make him look pitiful. Right now, he was trying to have a child with her, because all of his merchant connections around his age were having children as well.
“Ah! Love! Breakfast is about to be done! Have a seat at the table, today I made— ah, you eat the same thing every day, don’t you?”
John was glad she had shut herself up. Unproductive talk was a complete waste of his time.
She used to make a variety of foods for breakfast, but John had a favorite breakfast. It was two eggs, sunny side up, on a piece of toast that was cooked so that the outside was yellow and slightly crispy, but the inside was completely soft. He also liked to have three pork sausages with that.
John found it peculiar how, despite her being able to make anything she wanted for her own breakfast, she always just ate the same thing as him. He had asked her, and she answered that anything he liked had to be good. Apparently she thought any other kind of food paled in comparison to this specific meal, simply because he liked it. He couldn’t wrap his head around why she would feel this way.
“Thank you honey!”
Playing the part of a good husband, he thanked his wife for the food before sitting at the table where a glass of water was already waiting for him.
He sat down and took a few sips of it to wet his throat, which was dry, what with him having just woken up.
Eventually, his wife came to the table with two plates of the exact same meal. She placed one carefully in front of him, and the other at the opposite end of the table.
They began eating in silence. Although most people would talk during this time, John preferred to eat in silence. His wife seemed content to eat her food while staring at his face. She had this odd expression like she was trying to capture the present moment and keep it within her, as though it were precious. She always had this expression whenever she looked at him. John wondered why she would care so much about such an everyday occurrence as eating breakfast.
John finished eating fairly quickly. Even if it was his favorite food, he didn’t care much to savor the taste. He preferred to get his calories and then move on to more productive activities.
“Love, did you hear? Taxes are lighter on families with children! The council just decided on that policy recently.…I hope we can have a kid of our own soon…”
“We just have to keep trying, Mary. Someday we’ll have a bright bundle of sunshine of our own. Then we’ll have to spoil him plenty!”
John chuckled. He didn’t actually find what he had said that funny, but apparently it was pretty common to laugh like that to indicate you’re joking.
Mary let out a little giggle at his joke, indicating to John he had succeeded.
“I love you, John.”
“I love you too, Mary.”
The two locked eyes for a moment. John wasn’t the least bit sure why this was something they had to do at moments like this, but Mary seemed to enjoy it quite a lot, and apparently it was quite normal.
This went on for some minutes, until—
“Ah! Love, you need to go to work! Sorry for holding you here. I’m really sorry, honestly. Plea–”
“It’s fine Mary. See you tonight. Love ya.”
“I love you too. Have a good day at work!”
John put on his apron and gathered a few tools, as well as his backpack, before heading out the door.
He worked as a merchant who sold various odds and ends–essentially anything that was priced high and would sell fast.
He made good money from the job, which allowed him his morning routine, among other things. His wife didn’t have a job, but somehow had money coming in every day. He didn’t know how, but didn’t care either. A well fitting suit with a stain on the lining was no object of frustration.
John walked through the streets of the capital. It was very early in the morning, so there wasn’t much of a crowd. He would set up his stall very early in the morning so that he could attract the maximum amount of customers possible throughout the day. His usual shift ended practically at sundown.
Eventually, John made it to his stall and began setting up for the day. He set various metia, food items, and other objects on the counter of his stall. After that, he leaned against the wall behind him and waited.
Mary Sachiko was now alone at home.
Her husband, her handsome, strong, perfect husband, whom she spent every moment with at the verge of jumping on him, was gone at work. There was a pang of loneliness in her heart as she thought on this, but she reminded herself that he would be back later.
She simply wished she could be at his side every moment, but that wasn’t possible apparently.
Though if she couldn’t be with him always, she could still do plenty for him while he was away. For example, earning money.
She didn’t technically have a job, and took care of the house most of the day, but she still managed to win some bread.
Moving illicit substances.
A very popular drug existed in the capital of Lugnica right now, known simply as hogos. It was a powdery substance which significantly increased your happiness when ingested via the nose or mouth.
Mary’s job was to go to specific spots, usually in the slums, and pick up boxes of hogos, and drop them off at another spot. Just a cog in a massive illicit substance moving machine. She knew the group she worked for was incorrigible. They gave these drugs to children. The children would take it and have their mind irreversibly altered so that they couldn’t be happy without hogos. Once that was done, that child’s life was practically forfeit.
Yet, Mary worked for them still. Not because she didn’t care, but because she, despite her effort, had no children, and had one husband who sometimes struggled to make ends meet. She wanted to help John however she could, always. His significance to her life amounted to more than all of the world’s people, animals, plants, rocks, grains of sand, and spirits combined. If he could only be happy after she had destroyed all but him, she would do it.
That was simply how big her crush was.
It was around midday in the market district of the capital of Lugnica. A massive crowd of spectators were watching in awe at the spectacle before them. A skinny blonde girl had pickpocketed a silver haired half elf, but the half-elf had noticed. She ended up shooting multiple icicles at the blonde girl, who dodged them and ran away.
Occurrences like these were common, but the use of magic—especially spirit magic—in fighting back was novel. The icicles were sticking out of a wall nearby, and John idly wondered how often these kinds of holes need to be repaired.
The silver haired half-elf had ended up running away, probably trying to find the thief. Nobody had really tracked where the thief went, she was just that fast.
John wondered why everyone was so captivated by the incident. A person fighting back against a pickpocket was simply logical, it was pretty pointless to get this interested in it.
Around fourty minutes later, the crowd was abuzz again, about something strange that had happened in an alleyway nearby. A group of three kids had been found dead. There were no wounds, there was no blood, they looked as though they had just collapsed.
John still wondered why so many people cared. The deaths of a few scum of the earth bottom feeder delinquent kids hardly mattered.
Mary struggled to believe what she was hearing. Rachins, Camberley, and Gaston were all dead. And no less, without a single wound on their body aside from a bruise from hitting the ground.
She had no idea what could even cause this—why this was possible. She hadn’t known the three too well, and didn’t like them much either. But she still knew them well enough. It felt so incredibly uncomfortable knowing that the next day when she began working she wouldn’t see them. And the day after that. And the day after that, etc.
Never again would she see any of them.
What the hell…?
She couldn’t even imagine a single thing that could cause this. Heart attack was already ruled out, apparently so was aneurysm. Nobody knew what this even was.
What the hell?
She had wanted appas for the night, but her appetite was lost now. All she felt was the intense drumming of her heart, and the awful feeling she might be next.
John Sachiko tumbled to the ground, letting out a boyish yelp as he went, and his clothing was coated thickly in the dirt he kicked up.
“Stupid ass. You deserve that for what you did to Larry. You’re weird anyway, always staring off into nothing. You even got a brain?”
Above John stood a group of little boys. They laughed and pointed at him.
John didn’t understand.
He grew up in a wealthy family, he had powerful connections, and yet he was still being treated like this.
What gives?
Two weeks ago, a kid named Larry had given him a hard time while he was on an errand to get some appas for his dad.
The kid had threatened him for his appa money.
John did the only thing he could do—he physically incapacitated the assailant and reported it to the guards.
It was a natural thing to do.
The kid had stolen some stuff on the way there too, the guards found out and ended up cutting one of his hands clean off and throwing him in jail for a little while.
But he deserved it, no? He stole, he threatened John, and he paid the price he knew he would have to pay eventually.
The contract was all laid out before him from his birth, and he had signed it and everything, and when he broke it suddenly it's not fair for him to be punished per its terms?
These kids had been hounding John for two weeks now. Ever since the incident with larry. John had been physically tormented, and yet these kids were too careful to be caught by the city guards.
John stood up, and wiped some of the dirt off of his pants and shirt.
“Huuuh?! You wanna fight or somethin’?”
John stepped toward the assailants and drew his dagger from under the back of his shirt, where it was tucked into his waistband.
He immediately lunged forward toward the nearest kid, and shoved the knife roughly into his chest.
“GH-AH?!”
“Shit, David!”
The kids around looked on in shock, but John didn’t give them the luxury of time.
He knew that in order to succeed he would have to be fast.
Blood spurted out of David’s chest, and poured onto John’s knife and sleeve.
He ripped his knife out of David and blood splashed onto John’s shirt, and he lunged toward the other nearest boy.
He made for a stab at the chest, but missed in the commotion, and ended up shoving it right into the boy’s left pec, right next to his armpit.
The kid screamed in agony, and more blood covered John’s blade.
By now almost every one of the boys was running away.
John knew better than to chase anyone. He stabbed the slowest boy who was still relatively close and then stopped.
He took off his shirt, which was now bloodied, and walked over to a well just out the alleyway.
He dipped it in water and used it as a rag to clean up the blood on his hands and knife. He then dropped the shirt on the dirt next to the well and moved on.
Under his shirt, he had been wearing a second one, which was untarnished.
Finally, John could go get the appas from the market for his dad.
“Did you hear, love? There was a big incident in the slums. They say the bowel hunter came back, and then she was killed along with a little girl. They died like they had just fallen asleep. Same with the three delinquents that died in that alley in the market.”
“Strange things are happening nowadays. It must be the royal selection. Making everyone crazy.”
“I hope things’ll be fine when we have a new king… I still want to have a kid with you.”
Enroy Jameson was an idiot. A bumbling idiot.
“Thank you for your purchase, enjoy the appas!” the girl behind the appa stand said.
“You too!” Enroy replied, as he walked away with his little brown bag.
Enroy made the hike back to his little shack in the slums. He made just enough to get by here. Mostly through being a messenger. People would tell him what to say to others, and he would say it.
From well wishes to death threats, he had been hired many times, known as a simple fool who did his job and nothing else.
And yet, Enroy never stopped smiling. This was because he had no reason to frown, ever.
Every time there might’ve been one for someone else, he couldn’t find it. Perhaps he was too stupid.
“Hey, lardass. What’re you doin’ with those appas, huh?!”
He was shoved by a guy who had passed by, and his bag of appas fell on the ground.
“Well, I was gonna eat them, but if you need them more, you can have them!”
“Huuuh?! Fuck did you just say to me? You want a fight or something?!”
“No, sir. I’m sorry.”
Enroy bowed, and kept himself bowed. The guy who shoved him pushed his head into the dirt below.
Enroy felt sorry. He knew the guy who was doing this to him had probably had a rough day. Enroy was glad his life was so good he didn’t have to act like this, but he also wished other people could have that same experience.
“Don’t talk to me ever again, fatty.”
The guy took a bite of one of the appas he stole, and began walking away, leaving Enroy in the dirt.
Enroy slowly stood up, and once again started walking to his shack.
It was a tiny little wooden shelter on the edge of the slums near the wall. The door was a curtain, and his bed was a pile of hay, but it was still home to him.
“I’m home, son!”
He opened the curtain, and walked inside. His son was on his bed. It was a little teddy bear he had found while walking around the slums one time. The fur was matted and covered in dirt, and one of the eye buttons was falling out, and it was missing an arm, but it was still his son.
He hugged it.
“I couldn’t bring any food home today. Sorry. We’ll have to eat tomorrow.”
Enroy layed down on his hay bed, son in his arms.
“Some day, we’ll leave this place and live in a big house on a hill somewhere, with the Flugel Tree as a backdrop. We’ll live just outside a little village, and I’ll go down there sometimes to chat with the adults, and the kids, and play with the kids and the adults. Some day, for sure. I just need to make more money. I can do it if I keep trying… Isn’t that right, son?”
His son nodded.
“Goodnight. I love you.”
Enroy slowly drifted to sleep.
The next day, Enroy rose early.
“Time for another day at work! I hope it’s good. Keep watch at home for me, son!”
Enroy stood up from his hay bed, and walked out of his shack.
He walked around the slums, looking for someone who needed a messenger, until he found a job.
“Yeah, we need you to go to Fourty-Four Flugel Street and deliver a message to Mary. Tell her Rachins, Camberley, and Gaston are dead. Died like they fell asleep in some dingy alleyway, not a heartattack or anything, we don’t know what the fuck happened, but we’re gonna need some new kids to work on transporting the hogos.”
“Of course, sir. That’ll be five copper.”
“Here’s two, I’ll get the other three to you later.”
“Okay!”
Enroy accepted the two coins with gratitude, and walked off toward the merchant-class housing district.
In his head, Enroy repeated ‘Fourty-Four Flugel Street, Mary. Rachins, Camberley, Gaston dead. Died like they fell asleep in an alley. Not a heartattack. Don’t know what happened. New kids needed to transport hogos.’
When he arrived, he saw a pretty lady with red hair.
“Are you Mrs. Mary?”
“Yes, I am. How can I help you?”
“Ra–Um… R-Rachins, Camberley, Gaston dead. Died like they fell asleep in an alley. Not a heartattack. Don’t know what happened. New kids needed to transport hogos.”
She looked down gloomily.
“I see. Who is this message from?”
“Oh… I forgot, but he has blue-ish hair and is really tall, he lives in the slums.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Mhm!”
Enroy smiled at her, hoping to cheer her up, and walked away. On the way home, he stopped in the market to buy a bag of appas. Both of his copper coins were gone now, but he got Appas for a week.
This time, on the way to his home, he wasn’t even shoved or stolen from.
“Lucky me! Oh, shoot, I forgot to get the other three copper! Whoops.”
He walked through the curtain.
“Today was great, son! I got paid and got a week of appa—”
He looked down at his hay bed.
It was a big flat empty piece of ground now.
“Huh? Son? Where are you?”
Enroy bent over and checked under his little table, and in his bag, and under the hay, and just behind his shack and outside it on all sides, and he checked in his cabinet, but his son was nowhere.
“Son?”
He sat down on his hay bed, and did his best to slowly observe every inch of the room.
He still didn’t find him.
He wanted to cry, but he knew he would see his son again soon. He knew it wouldn’t pay to be sad right now.
He hugged his bag of appas, and curled up and forced himself asleep
“Have a good day working today, love!” Mary called out to John as he left to work in the market.
It was morning time now, and Mary also needed to go to work. She waited to be sure John was gone, and then left for an area near the markets. She needed to see about a deal.
As she arrived, there was a great explosion, and through a wall came a bandaged woman covered in flaming chains.
She calmly walked to a podium and stood.
“Hello. Yes, hello you all. Would you kindly form a orderly crowd and pay attention? I request that of you all. I would appreciate it quite a bit.”
Mary was instantly drawn to this woman. She seemed very polite and earnest.
“Thank you. In truth, I am here with my associates from the Witch’s Cult, to take the capital. However, I would like to say that they have been attacking us for many years. Isn’t it a bit unfair for us to be condemned for this kind of attack?”
“Yeah!!” the crowd shouted, Mary included.
Her heart was pounding. She felt so angry at the Kingdom for prosecuting this innocent woman.
“Thank you, truly. Now, I’m going to take a brave volunteer, say, you,” the woman pointed to Mary. “Come up here, so we can finally begin things, please.”
John stood behind his stall in the market. Another day of work. He was a good salesman, but not the best, and that was what made him the angriest, of anything in the world.
Suddenly, he heard an explosion.
“Love, love, love! The love of the Witch! Yes, She gives Her love to you all right now, this very moment! Lustful love, paternal love, friendly love, love, love, love!!!!”
There were people in Witch Cultist robes causing havoc around John. Some of them had no hood on, but they all carried the appearances of madmen and madwomen.
John immediately ducked behind his counter. The stall next to his exploded, and the owner was sent tumbling down. He heard one of the unmasked ones approach.
“You there, are you loved by the Witch, do you feel her love?”
“No! Neve—”
John heard the sounds of his bones and flesh being crushed and torn apart.
When the cultist became uninterested in the stalls near John, he ran. He ran through alleys and streets, and finally found himself in the center of a crowd. There was a bandage wrapped woman on a stage, and in her arms was Mary Sachiko, wrapped in chains. Her mouth was gagged with them, and her legs and arms bound.
“Oh my, new arrivals, thank you, I am so very flattered by your attention. Now, I believe this is a good number of people. Can we all show our appreciation to this woman, who was so kind as to sacrifice herself nobly?”
“Yes!” Everyone in the crowd, including John, yelled out, shedding tears, leaping for joy.
He loved this place, this crowd, the energy. His wife was simply incredible for making this sacrifice.
John heard, faintly, to his right, a boy say “die.”
And then everything went dark.
Mary had been enraptured by the bandaged woman, but now that the woman was dead, she had other feelings. She was scared, she was hurt, she wanted John. She wanted his warmth.
She could hear an argument going on near her.
“Yogiri?! Did you just kill that entire crowd?" a girl said.
"Yeah. They were trying to kill us too, so I had to kill them. Huh? Oh. Another weird thing tried to get into my body and I killed it again. Maybe it's like a loot drop from the cultist bosses?" a boy said.
"Who cares?! You killed that whole crowd! Was there really nothing you could've done?!"
"They were being controlled, but I couldn't really do anything about that. I'm not too precise with my ability. I should probably start practicing with it."
"There was really nothing at all? Couldn't you have just killed the source of the control?" The girl was a bit calmer.
"You're overestimating me. I can see things that are dangerous to me and kill them, but I can't see stuff like who's controlling who or what the thing targeting me is. I just know that it's gonna try to kill me."
"So you really couldn't do anything…"
Mary decided to make some noise to get their attention. She wanted to be freed so she could find her John and make sure he was alright.
"Mmmmff! Mmmmfff!"
She struggled to get a sound out, the chains around her mouth hurt more than anything she had felt before in her life.
She heard footsteps rushing toward her, and the chain was removed from her eyes and mouth. She could see and speak. Above her was a girl with silver hair and amethyst eyes.
"T-t-thank you for s-saving me…" Mary said.
The silver haired girl looked concerned.
"It's no problem. Are you okay?" she asked.
Mary replied to her question, "I-I'm kind of h-hurt from the ch-chains but that's it…"
The girl reached down toward Mary and pulled her up by the hand. Mary stood, and looked out at the sea of corpses before her. Standing there was a black haired boy and a red haired man, and everyone else was collapsed on the cobbled ground.
"Wh-wha—Huh?"
Despite her being among the crowd, technically, she had not died. Why?
"W-why are they—"
Suddenly, Mary saw a particular person on the ground. It was John.
"J-John?! John! John!" she screamed, scrambling to get to him.
"John…? John, please…."
Mary dropped to her knees and shook her beloved husband’s broad shoulders. She always liked how strong and handsome he was.
"W-Why…"
She knew now why she had been spared. It was to ensure she suffered. She had sold drugs, dealt in illegal substances; she had committed crimes. This was the price she had to pay. She had good intentions, but it appeared that it wasn’t enough.
Her heart snapped in two, cleaved by the scythe of death, in the same swoop which fell her husband; her reason for life.
"Kill me now…"
Mary looked to her savior, and prayed she could be a savior once more.
"Kill me."
The silver haired girl looked shocked. Mary knew she was going to refuse, and almost gave up hope.
"Are you absolutely sure?"
Mary heard a boy speak those words. It was the black haired one. She looked at him with hopeful eyes.
"Are you seriously completely sure you want to die? There's nothing you want to live for, not even a little bit? Because once I kill you, you can't come back.'
She thought for a moment. The answer was a resounding no. She had nothing left.
"I'm sure,” Mary said.
The boy looked at her, and seemed to become resolved.
“Goodbye,” he said, gently.
And then everything went dark for Mary.
Enroy woke up early once again, and left his shack to find work. He still hadn’t found his son, but he knew if he kept working hard it would work out all right.
He walked around the slums, and tried to find someone who needed his services, but he found no one.
He walked to the markets, hoping to find someone there who needed him.
Suddenly, there was an explosion. A Witch Cultist came out of a building, flying around.
“Love, love, love! The love of the Witch! Yes, She gives Her love to you all right now, this very moment! Lustful love, paternal love, friendly love, love, love, love!!!!”
The Witch Cultist had no hood, and raved about love. Enroy hid behind a barrel, even though he was too big to hide behind it, and looked over it at what was happening.
The cultist flew toward a merchant stall and it was crushed by an invisible force, and the man behind it cowered in front of the cultist.
“You there, are you loved by the Witch, do you feel her love?” the cultist asked.
“No! Neve—”
The reply was cut off when the man was crushed, the sound of his bones snapping and flesh being tenderized forever engraved in Enroy’s mind.
He saw what was left of the man, and nearly screamed.
But he reminded himself to be strong. If he kept trying hard, good things would come to him.
He waited for the insane cultist to clear out of his way, and made a dash toward the noble housing district.
"You, you, you, you, you! You sully the love of the Witch! You who hate her! Who hates her love! Die, die, die, die, die!"
He heard yelling behind him.
"I'm afraid I must refuse. Both your disgusting Witch's love and death. This is the end. Al Clarista."
"Authority of Sloth! Unseen Hands! Die, die, die, die, die!"
Explosions shook the earth, but Enroy kept running.
He heard faintly, someone say, "No, you die."
Enroy walked through the noble housing district. All around him were people who turned into piles of gore. Some of them still breathed. Enroy held down his tears and bile. He needed to push on. He needed to be safe. If he kept trying, everything would turn out alright. He would have his son back, and he would be able to wake up every morning in his shack, go outside, and get a job from someone, and deliver messages, and eat appas. And one day he’d get his property near a village with the Flugel Tree in the backdrop.
Enroy still walked, through the putrid smell of death, and he saw something skitter in the corner of his eye.
It was an oversized spider with spindly haired legs and a balding, elderly human head for a body. The face looked like it was screaming in agony, but Enroy heard nothing.
He quickly jumped behind a crate, and hid.
He desperately wanted to give up and cry, but he had to press on.
If he kept trying, everything would turn out alright.
The creature looked at the crates. It stared, for an agonizing hour-long second, and Enroy felt it would never leave. And then it turned and crawled away. Enroy shakily stood up from behind the crates, and continued down the road.
It was getting a bit dark now that Enroy had made it past all the living gore piles and monstrous creatures, and to the castle bridge.
Its midsection had collapsed, and in the mote below was a massive ball of twisted flesh crushed by the debris of the bridge..
Enroy suppressed the rising bile in his throat and looked at it, and then looked at the castle. He turned around.
Behind him was death.
Ahead of him was nothing.
His son was gone.
“But I have to press on…” he said. “I know if I try hard everything will work out alright in the end.”
Enroy sat down on the bridge, overlooking the mass of twisted flesh and eyes and limbs.
“I’ll get a property near the Flugel Tree…” he said, holding back a sob. “I’ll have it next to a little village, and I’ll go down to it and play with the kids and the adults, and talk to them, and we’ll have fun, and I’ll have my son with me, and I can do jobs for the villagers for money, and I’ll get all the appas I can eat—”
His eyes began to fail him, and as he nearly shed a tear, a massive worm covered in thousands of small human arms came down from the sky, and everything around it ceased to be. The bridge, the twisted mass of flesh, some of the mote, and Enroy, all disappeared like a simple light switch decided if they existed or not.
Enroy did not wake up early today. It was morning, and Enroy’s shack was empty, and his son was still gone.
And suddenly, his shack, Mary and John, everyone in the capital, and everything in the capital, disappeared. Every building, every rock, every speck of dust and dirt, even every air particle. All of it was gone.
The only evidence there was anything there in the first place was the massive cubic hole in the earth which outlined where the capital of Lugnica once stood tall.
Soon, this area would be reduced to infighting among demi-human clans, criminal gangs, and people just returning from a trip to find their home and family gone.
Nobody would remember Enroy. Only Emilia and Yogiri would faintly remember Mary and John. Everyone else who knew of them was gone.