Chapter Text
“Enough whining. You’ve been playing all day.” She smiles upon him, with her caressing their cheek.
“But mom, it’s super annoying.” He grabs his mom’s hand and pushes it away.
The mother is muscular, but smaller than normal minotaurs, standing comfortably around 5 to 6 feet. She’s wearing brown cotton clothing, poorly stitched together and covered in a multitude of muted stains. Her skirt rests a little below her knees, and her blouse has a single ripped sleeve. Her skin is a smooth light brown at her limbs, but transitions into a soft delicate red near her face and stomach. Her hair is long, brown, messy, and tied into a bun.
“Now mister.” She puts her arms on her hips. “You know how hard I work to provide for you and your father, and that’s everyday. All you have to do in return is go shopping for me, just once a week.” She leans down toward him, putting her hands on her knees.
The boy is wearing clothes cut from the same cloth as the mother’s, with pants reaching all the way down to his ankles, and a shirt with no sleeves, but with none of the stains.
“And while you’re out there, go take a quick dip in the river. Your hair is a mess.” She adds, ruffling his hair.
His black hair is completely ruffled, and there’s no semblance of a pattern. His skin is made out of rough, cloudy green scales, his eyes are a calm yellow, and his snout is dirtied with dust and sauce stains.
“Okay, okay.” He smiles at her.
“Very good. Here.” She digs out a handful of small copper coins out of her pockets. “That should be enough for food. And this one…!” She takes out a single silver piece.
“Is one your father earned for you! You can buy what you want with it.” She smiles, and his smile becomes twice as large.
“Wow! Thank you, mom!” He says, putting all of the coins in his pocket and running out of the house.
“And be careful, Tristan!” She calls out to him.
The house itself is made out of wood, clay, and brick, with square windows carved out with hammers and chisels. There is no glass in the windows either, just curtains made out of multiple pieces of cloth. The floors are made out of tile, and the furniture is made out of brick. There are only 3 rooms in the house, with the one connected to the entrance being the kitchen, which is only a couple of meters wide and long. From the kitchen, there’s the bathroom, which is just a large container of water and a hole in the ground, and the bedroom, the same size as the kitchen, only has a king sized, thin mattress with multiple sheets, some used as blankets and others used as pillows.
He continues running, letting his peripheral fill with other monsters and houses made to be almost exactly the same as his. He can hear the laughter and talking of other kids like him and the serious mumbles of the older monsters. He runs until he arrives at the sight of the town market, stopping to catch his breath as he walks toward it. The market is in the middle of town, which divides into 2 different parts as it moves and adjusts itself, with shops on both sides of the two walking paths that cross each other. He immediately walks toward the first shop on his way, which is also the first shop the path leads to.
“Heyo, Tristan! How’re you and your mom doing?” The slime monster points finger guns at him.
“We’re good! Really good! My mom gave me this!” He takes out a silver piece and shows it to him.
“Woah, man! You’re rich!” The slime man picks it up out of his hand and inspects it, giving it back as fast. “What’re you planning on buying with that? A new house?” He asks, making Tristan giggle.
“I can’t buy a house with that!” He says, putting the coin back in his pocket.
“What?! No way! Aw man, looks like I’m gonna have to keep saving up if I want to buy one then. Why don’t you help me and buy some of my fruits?” He asks. The shop has baskets full of strange fruits, with their colors ranging from complete blacks to blood reds and river blues, all in multiple shapes.
“That’s what I’m here for.” Tristan says.
“Oh, don’t I know it. That’s why I already packed up your order for you!” The slime man takes out a small baggie made out of a soft, plastic-like tree bark.
“I left it open just in case you need anything else. Is 4 zirgats, 2 voidberries, and 4 quorbelberries good for you?” He asks, and Tristan nods. “Good! I knew I got the numbers right!” He says, handing him the bag.
“Thanks!” Tristan ties the bag and hands him 4 copper pieces.
“Ah!” The slime man looks at the coins. “That’s one missing, buddy. Remember, 2 for 1.” He catches.
“Is it?” He looks at the coins in his hand. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” Tristan hands him another coin.
“It’s alright, kiddo, but be careful!” The slime man takes the coins inside his body, pulsating them toward his chest. “If the other shops saw you doing that, they might think you’re trying to steal from them, and they might get really angry. Not me, though!” He smiles.
“Right! Thank you again!” Tristan smiles and walks deeper into the market.
“Be safe, kiddo! Holler if you need any more zirgats! You need the vitamin T!” He says, waving at him.
As Tristan walks deeper into the market holding his bag of fruits, he rubs the silver coin inside his pocket, looking at all of the other shops on his way to the butcher. He’s never paid so much attention to all of the talking, noise, and items being sold until now, and he begins to rub the coin faster. He looks at a shop selling toys, pauses, and keeps walking. Another shop selling sweets and candies, and he makes an even longer pause before forcing himself to go forward. He notices a little shop selling clothing, cloth, stitches, and other general goods used to make clothes. He notices a pair of orange boots next to the dresses, with a tag saying ‘SALE! 1 Silver Coin!’ attached to them. He digs the silver coin out of his pocket, stares at it, and walks toward the shop
“Mom! I’m home!” Tristan walks in his house with multiple bags to see his mother cooking a stew over a fire.
“Hi, dear! So, what’d you get from the market?” She asks, slowly mixing the stew with an old ladle.
Tristan sets the bags down and takes out their contents. “I got the fruit from the fruit man, the lurkley meat you wanted, some pickled veggies, some normal veggies, cheese slices, some loaves of bread, and some corn!” He lists off.
“Great! Hand me the corn.” She says, holding her hand out. He takes the corn from the tree bark bag and hands it to her, which she then breaks apart and throws into the stew. “So?” She turns her head.
“Sooo?” Tristan puts his hands in his pocket.
“Don’t keep me in suspense! What’d you get with the silver piece?” She asks.
“You have to guess!” Tristan says, and she starts to bite at her nail.
“Hmm… Candy?” She turns her head.
“Nope!” He shakes his head.
“A new toy?” She shrugs.
“Nuh-uh!” He shakes his head even harder.
“Okay, okay…” She rubs her chin and thinks harder, but immediately loses her train of thought. “Okay, I don’t know, tell me!” She says.
“I got you this!” He takes out a checkered dress from one of the bags. Its checkers are colored white and a light, beachy tan, with its sleeves and collar white, and the buttons tan. The skirt of the dress reaches down to the knees, and the material is soft to the touch.
She gasps at the sight. “Oh my goodness! No you didn’t!” She grabs the dress from him, stands, and compares it to her clothes now. “It’s so beautiful! Thank you, my dear sweet boy!” She sets it on the counter before hugging him.
“Mom! You’re too strong!” He lets the pressure from her arms surround him.
“You have no idea how happy I am right now!” She says, beginning to jump.
“I think I have some idea.” He says, feeling the impact of their weight hit the ground.
She stops and sets him back down. “I haven’t worn a dress like this since I married your father. If only we didn’t have to sell that one. It was such a gorgeous red.” She says, grabbing at her cheek. “But enough talk!” She dismisses her thoughts. “Put away the groceries for me in the cabinet and I’ll get you your food ready, okay?” She requests.
“Alright!” He smiles, walking toward the single pair of cupboards underneath the counter with the dress atop of it, and opening them. He then begins to grab all of the food he had out on top of the bags and placing them within. It only takes a minute or two to organize everything, and his mom already has a small bowl of stew ready for him when he stands up.
“Here you go.” She places it atop the counter, grabbing the dress right after. “Enjoy the food! I’ll be right back, because I need to try this on!” She says with a smile before walking into the bathroom.
“Thanks mom!” He says before biting into a large piece of corn.
“Where have you been?” A tiny whisper scratches at Tristan’s ears, pulling him away from his unconsciousness.
“ M-Mom? ” He sits up, rubbing his eyes.
“The food has already been cold for hours, and Tristan is asleep right now. ” His mom’s voice is very low, and soon, another voice comes from the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry. I know how you feel about this, but my men need me.” His voice is very low, very deep, but still soothing, with a slight accent at the end of his words. “If I had left any earlier, then they would’ve died on me.” He says, and Tristan’s mom slowly breathes out.
“ Come. ” She whispers, and the straining of a chair echoes into the other room. Tristan keeps his head turned to where the footsteps go, until they’re all the way at the back of the house.
“ Do you… do this? What if… You’re… danger. Me and… we matter. He… in his life. ” The whispers are barely audible, making Tristan focus as he tries to pick up any word her can.
His father begins to whisper at the same level. “ If I don’t, then… People… dying… Save… It’s terrible… I can’t… Think… Won’t die… Magic… Knights… ” A pause. “ Dozens… No, hundreds… dying… Duty… There’s… other way… ” Another pause. Tristan slowly stands up out of bed and walks closer to the window in the bedroom, hearing the next sentences more clearly. “ The queen won’t give up her assault. She’s attacking every village in her path in the name of ‘justice,’ and if putting my life on the frontlines means protecting you two, then I’ll do it. ” He says, and a small sigh is heard.
“ I know. I know, it’s just that I worry a lot. I know you’re protecting us, but I’d just feel so much safer with you actually with us; next to us. ” His mom whispers.
“ Our race is blessed. Our son, with our genes… ” A pause. “ He can protect you. Just give him time. ” Another pause, and a slight sigh. “ I have to leave again. ” Another pause, and the very slight sound of a push.
“ Again…? Really…?! After what happened last time?! ” Tristan’s mom whispers.
“ Yes. ” Another pause, and a sudden breath out.
“ Unbelievable. Fine, but you better come back within a week. ” Tristan’s mom commands.
“ That’s not really something I can decide. I actually don’t know how long I’ll be gone. ” Another pause.
“ Why do you always do this? ” She asks. “ Don’t worry. I will come back, but it may not be soon. ” Another pause.
“ Fine. Leave. Tristan and I will be waiting for you. ” She says. “ Goodbye. I love you. ” She adds.
“ I love you, too. ” Are the last words whispered before a long moment of silence passes, becoming deafening as Tristan tries to raise his hearing further. There are suddenly the sounds of footsteps and Tristan rushes back into bed. He covers himself in the covers, pretending to sleep, and after a few moments, he feels the sheets shift. He lays completely still, and after the sheets stop moving, he feels the embrace of his mother, hugging him more tightly than usual. He awaits for the next presence, but it never arrives, and it won’t ever. Tristan grabs a handful of the sheets, gripping them hard as he bites his lips and forces his eyes shut, as if it’s going to stop the silent tears from flowing.
“Tristan.” His mother kneels down to him, shaking his shoulder.
“Uh, huh?” He rubs his itchy, red eyes, slowly sitting up.
She catches sight of them. “Oh, what happened? Let me see.” She puts her fingers on his chin, making him face her. “Your eyes are red. You must not have slept well, right?” She asks.
“N-No.” Tristan says, slowly sitting up.
“You heard then?” She asks, expecting no answer. “Your father isn’t going to come back for another while. He hasn’t told me for how long, but he’ll be back. Or so he says.” She crosses her arms.
“I um…” A million thoughts race through his mind. It was surreal to hear it by eavesdropping, but hearing it from his mom just made it so much worse. “Okay.” Tristan says, not saying anything else and getting up from bed.
“Here.” She hands him a sandwich with one slice of cooked lurkley and a slice of cheese.
“There’s your breakfast. Now, go out and do something.” She puts on a smile. “Play with your friends!” She rubs his cheek and pulls at his face. “It’s almost noon. Don’t sleep the day away.” She says, walking back to the kitchen. “And, just so you know, I’m gonna need to look for another job. So I’ll be scouring around town. I’m sorry, but you’ll probably need to make yourself something to eat later for lunch.” She says at the door way. “It’s a good thing you bought me the dress, too. It’s going to make a much better first impression than my regular clothes. Be good, okay?” She says, walking away and out the house.
Tristan looks upon the empty house and sighs. He takes a moment inside to eat his sandwich, savoring the taste of the lurkley, and then decides to go out and follow the laughter of the other children outside. A whole lot of them are playing tag, and a young monster girl with the head of a cobra notices him walking toward them.
“Wait, pause!” She tries to call timeout, but another monster kid tags her, pushing aggressively against her. “I said wait!” She yells before pushing the other kid away and running to Tristan.
“Hi, Tristan!” She says, jumping on his back.
“Oof.” A slight wind is knocked out of him. “Hi, Becky.” He says. He then feels a little bite at the back of his neck. “Ah! Hey, c’mon, get offa me!” He starts running and turning, trying to shake her off.
“Oh, faster, faster!” She smacks at his back.
“Hup!” He jumps using the full force of his legs and it finally shakes her off.
“Ow!” She lands on her stomach. “Alright, fine, my bad.” She dusts herself as she gets up. Her white, plaid overalls have blue accents and she has a black undershirt underneath. Her skin is a bright yellow, and her eyes green, with her pupils thin and black. Despite her importance, not too many other details can be recalled.
“Becky! Stop messing around with your boyfriend and get back to tag!” Another monster kid yells.
“He’s not my boyfriend! ” She yells back. “ Yet! ” She whispers to him. “Wanna play tag with us?” She asks.
“Oh, yeah.” He says, pushing the whisper to the back of his mind.
“Tristan is playing with the rest of us!” She yells for him, turning and walking back toward the rest of the monster kids.
“No fair! Tristan is too fast for the rest of us!” One kid says.
“Ooh! Then let’s play freeze tag!” Another says.
Tristan’s mind lights up at the mention of his favorite game. “I’m down for freeze tag!” He says, excited.
“Then let’s do it!” Becky says.
“Tristan’s it!” A kid says.
“No! I want to be it!” Another says.
“You can be it next time!” Tristan says, readying himself and hopping in place. “You guys better be ready for this!” He focuses, closes his eyes for about ten seconds. “Run!” He commands, and all the kids scatter.
“Bleh!” Becky sticks her tongue out as she runs.
“1, 2, 3!” Tristan runs toward the slowest kid. “Freeze!” Tristan taps their shoulder.
“Aww.” The kid slumps.
“Sorry, Dewey.” Tristan says. He continues running, behind and even over buildings, a little into the beginning of the forest where kids were hiding behind some trees, and Becky, who started climbing one. It took a fast 15 or so minutes, but Tristan managed to freeze them all at the same time. “There!” He wipes the sweat off of his forehead. “That’s everyone, right?” He asks them, and they all look at each other to confirm.
“I think so.” Becky jumps off the tree.
“Then I win!” Tristan pumps his fists up.
“How the heck does a person win at freeze tag?!” Dewey asks.
“What are we playing now?” A kid asks.
“Yeah, I’m bored and I have nothing to do all day.” Another says.
“Hmm.” Tristan rubs his cheeks, and Becky does the same.
“Is this how you think?” She asks.
“I have an idea!” Tristan says. “Let’s play hide and seek! It should be better with all of us.” He says.
“Mmm, I kinda wanna play regular tag instead. I wanna run around, and I was frozen like all game.” A kid says.
“Um, then let’s do both!” Tristan says.
“How?” One kid asks.
“Let’s make it so that the seeker has to not only find the hiders, but also tag them, and once they’re tagged, they have to help the seeker!” Tristan explains his game plan.
“Ooh! That sounds fun!” Becky says.
“Let’s do it!” A kid goes.
“Tristan’s seeking!” A kid goes.
“No! I don’t wanna! I was already it for freeze tag.” Tristan says.
“Yeah, he’s too good anyways.” Becky says.
“Alright, then can I be it?” Dewey asks.
“Let Dewey be it.” A kid goes.
“Any objections?” Tristan asks, everyone shakes their heads no, and then Dewey covers his eyes.
“Okay, I’ll count to 30!” Dewey says, immediately going into counting. They smoothly count to 9, and begin to stutter at the double digit numbers. “Um… 10! And… what was it called? ” Dewey asks himself.
“11!” Tristan yells as he runs into the beginning edges of the forest.
“Right! 11, 12, 13…” Dewey continues.
“ Tristan! Follow me! ” Becky whispers from behind him.
“ Where are we going? ” He asks her, but still follows her.
“ Doesn’t matter! We’re gonna win! ” Becky shifts into a jog as they run deeper into the forest.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Tristan says normally, a good enough distance from Dewey.
“Oh calm down, we’re not gonna go too deep.” She says. After jogging for a good 20 seconds, they stop. “Okay, that should be good enough. Now let’s find a good place to hide.” She looks up and begins to climb a tree again. “You better not snitch if they catch you!” Becky quickly climbs up, grabbing a hold of the branches and disappearing into the leaves.
Tristan looks around for any spots he could hide in. “Hmmm.” He looks behind trees, in bushes, behind tall grass, and then he notices a small clearing. He shifts his whole body toward it, where there rests a single, beautiful flower, showcasing a deep, intense red surrounded by sunlight. He slowly walks toward it, pushing away any bushes and strands of grass that get in his way. He gets to the flower, and the sunlight hitting his skin warms him up, slightly tiring him. He picks the flower up from the ground and brings it up to his nostrils. He breathes in deeply, and the moment he breathes out, a shadow overcast him and sunlight around him shifts into a blood red. He looks up at the source of the shadow to see a woman standing over him atop of a hill. The only thing that indicates them being a woman is their dress, as their hair seems to have been cut down to their scalp. The brightness of the red sunlight makes it very difficult to see any other details about this person, and as soon as Tristan’s eyes begin to adjust, she turns her head and walks away. “Uh… Huh?” His mind starts racing.
“Tristan! ” Becky calls out for him. “ Where are you?” Becky calls him.
“Ah- I’m over here!” He shouts, running toward her voice. “What happened?” He asks.
“I don’t know. Some of the other kids said that we all have to go home for some reason. They also snitched on us and told Dewey we ran here!” She crosses her arms.
“That’s what they were supposed to do, Becky.” Tristan says.
Becky looks down to see the flower in his hand. “Ooh! Is that for me? Oh, you shouldn’t have!” She turns her head and rubs the bottom of her feet into the ground.
“Oh, um,” He darts his eyes from the flower to her. “No, sorry, this is for my mom. Her favorite color is red, and I think she really needs it…” He inspects the flower. “My dad isn’t gonna come back for another while…” He admits, trusting her with this information.
“Oh.” She stares at the flower, then at him. “Well, then you're forgiven for leading me on, and I’m sorry that happened.” She gives him a genuine smirk. “C’mon, we gotta go. The adults were really mad for some reason.” She turns and jogs back into the direction they came from.
Tristan turns his head to look at the clearing for a quick moment, seeing the sunlight red no longer. “Right…” He turns forward again and jogs up and alongside Becky.
“Mom?” Tristan walks into his home, hearing faint crying from the bedroom.
“Oh, Tristan?” His mom quickly wipes her face and goes to him in the kitchen.
“Where have you been? It’s late.” She asks.
“I was at Becky’s house. We were playing outside, but then we were told to come back home, and you weren’t here.” He scratches his elbow. “I didn’t want to be lonely, so I went over to Becky’s… sorry for making you worry.” He looks down at the ground.
“Oh, no, don’t be sorry, honey.” She grabs his chin and gently pulls his face back up. “I trust Becky and her family; I’d never worry about you over there.” She says.
“Um… mom?” Tristan says without thinking.
“Yes?” She walks backward to the bedroom, and sits on the mattress.
“Why were you crying?” He asks.
She looks away from him and out the window, not responding.
“Mom!” He yells at her, suddenly shooting out his anger toward her.
She slowly turns her head back toward him. “It’s your father, and in a way… you.” She says.
“W-What? You’re not making any sense.” Tristan’s anger dissipates as quickly as it came.
“I’m sorry, I just haven’t been in the right mindset lately. You understand, right?” She asks, and he slowly nods. “Good.” She smiles. She sniffles, and rubs the water out of her eyes. “Enough of that. I managed to find a job today. Wanna guess where?” She asks.
“Um, did you get a job cooking? You cook really good food.” He says, already trying to forget the fact that he yelled at the person he’s loved the most throughout his life. He’s beyond that though.
“Oh, you’re just saying that. Take another guess.” She lets out a small smile.
“Hmm, did you get a job at the market?” He scratches at his chest.
“You’re getting close!” She’s starting to get excited.
“I don’t know, do you sell fruit? Do you get free voidberries?” Now he’s starting to get excited, too.
“Nuh uh!” She shakes her head. “Do you remember the place where you got the dress for me?” She asks.
“I think so. It was near the center of the market.” The pieces connect in his head. “Oh! Did you get a job there?!” He guesses.
“Ooh, you’re a sharp one! Yes, I did. They actually recognized the dress that you bought for me, and they started a conversation with me. Turns out, they were looking for someone to create some new clothes. Their grandmother had recently passed, and they didn’t have anyone else to fill her shoes in. So!” She slaps her thighs. “They decided to give me a shot since I got their dress. They even asked about you, and I told them I had the best son in the world.” She says, and he doesn’t respond, but blushes and puts his hands in his pockets. He feels the flower and then remembers.
“Oh yeah. Wait.” He digs the flower out of his pocket. The petals have been folded and creased a bit, and the stem has dried, but the flower remains beautiful. “I found it when we were all playing hide and seek.” He walks over to her.
“Oh my goodness!” She takes the flower from his hands. “It’s so gorgeous.” She hugs him again. “Thank you. I really needed this.” She stops hugging him and smells the flower. It smells of such a sweet honey.
“I’m going to put that here,” She puts the flower in her chest pocket. “And I’m finally going to give you a present as well.” She digs under the sheets and takes something out. “Look!” She has a small brown cardboard box in her hands, and she lightly shakes it, with the contents smacking the insides.
“What’s inside?” He grabs the box and opens it, with the sweet aroma immediately rising up toward him. He gasps. “What is this?” He turns his head toward her.
“It’s something my new employer gave me. I’m not too sure what it is, but they called it toffee.” She explains.
“Toffee.” He looms over the brown, brittle pieces.
He picks one up and feels it in his hand. It’s misshapen and smells of burnt sugar, but the appeal drives him to bite into it. It feels like biting into a frail crystal, and his sharp teeth crush the toffee into dust. His chewing pauses as the taste envelops his mouth. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever had.” He admits.
“I know, right?” She smiles.
“Did you already have some?” He asks.
“Yeah, I couldn’t resist.” She says, grabbing another piece and undergoing the same process Tristan did with his first bite. “They didn’t give us much, but it feels like more than I deserve.” She admits to herself.
“When we grow up, I’m going to get us all the toffee we want.” He says, with his mouth full of the candy.
“And how are you going to achieve such a thing?” She asks him, smiling at his ambition.
“I’ll become rich! That way, we can eat whatever we want when we want.” He says, taking his 4th piece, and leaving the last for his mom.
“Thank you.” She grabs it, breaks it in half, and hands him the larger piece.
“I should be thanking you.” Tristan says, grabbing the piece from his mom’s hands, and tossing it into his mouth.
“Make sure none of that is left in your mouth, because you need to rinse it in a bit and go to bed. Don’t forget that it’s late, mister.” She says.
“Yeah~” He says, letting his tongue guide him to any pieces stuck on or in between his teeth. He walks to the bathroom, and once all of the pieces of toffee are out, he grabs a handful of water and rinses his mouth for a good 15 seconds. He spits the water out into the hole in the ground and then walks back to the bedroom. “Are you not gonna sleep?” He asks her upon seeing her sit on the stool she cooks on.
“I’m not tired yet. I’m going to stay up and see if watching you sleep will make me any sleepier.” She says.
“Um, okay.” He says, getting on his knees to tuck himself into bed. He feels cold, but soon he warms up the sheets with his own body heat. He sighs, still feeling the sweetness of the toffee at the back of his mouth. “Goodnight mom.” He says with his head turned back from her.
“Goodnight. Sleep well. I love you.” She says softly.
“I love you, too.” He says. It takes a long while for him to fall asleep, but his body goes limp when he finally does.
“ The Septarians are cursed; cursed with immortality. My Tristan is cursed… ” Tristan hears a half-broken voice from the back of the bedroom in his half conscious state. He isn’t in control of himself enough to fully awaken, and he slips back into unconsciousness. The next hours feel like they pass within a few minutes, and a light is beckoning him to wake up. No, screaming at him to wake up, and it seems so rageful.
“Hugh!” His body jolts and forces him to sit up. He wakes up in a coughing fit, with his eyes narrowed. Everything on his face hurts. Eyes are watering, it hurts to breathe, his lips are as dry as sand, and his skin is covered in sweat and soot. He looks around to see his house aflame, surrounding him on his bed.
“Mom!” He instinctively calls out to her. He turns to see her still on the stool, limp, lifeless.
“Mom!” He gets up and runs to her.
“Mom, wake up! Please!” His voice is breaking.
There’s a single arrow sticking out of her head, the arrow refusing to let him see as it covers her face with a blood soaked curtain. It’s the curtain from the window beside the bedroom. Her dress is stained with her blood as well, completely changing the charming tan and white into a mess of crimson and black. He can’t stop shaking her body.
“We need to leave! The house is burning!” His shaking makes her drop the red flower from her hands. It slowly levitates down into the ground, but Tristan never noticed. The flames are beginning to surround both of them, and his skin begins to cry at him from the heat.
“Get up!” He tries to pick her up, and manages to lift part of her with his legs, but can’t muster the strength to actually walk with her in his arms.
“Mom, please!” His throat can barely muster any noise before returning into a coughing fit. The flame waits no longer and begins to attack both of them, sticking to their clothes.
“ARGH!” He slams his hands down on his legs and starts to hop in place.
“Get up, we need to leave now!” He begs as the flames swallow her. Any semblance of his mom is now gone from the fire, burning the flower, her dress, and her.
Why her.
Why him.
No. Why me .
My eyes try to cry, but can’t muster the moisture needed to. The flames attach to me and my clothing, and I can feel the fire burn my skin all around me. It feels like my skin is being torn apart; being ripped off of my body, slowly, so slowly, and so fast at the same time it felt like time was being warped.
“AAARGH!”
I try to stomp the fires out, but my body forces me to run, leaving my mom and my home. I run out of the house, the fire attached to me and completely enveloping me.
“HNNNRGH!”
I grit my teeth as hard as I ever did and slam my fists on the ground, rolling in place and violently shaking for what seems like days.
“UGH, UGH, GUHACK!”
My entire body is struggling. The flames on me dispersed into the air eventually, leaving me completely scarred and burned and my clothes burnt black with multiple holes. I look at my trembling hands, with my skin almost completely gone, and I begin to bleed. Not just on my hands, but all over myself. I can feel a hot, nearly boiling liquid leave me and drip, leaking onto the ground, as if my life force was leaving me, my very soul leaking out of my body.
My body refused, however.
My skin begins to heal, covering up any scars, burns, and bleeding that had begun. My body takes back any blood it had let out, and puts it back within me, my life force returning, my soul coming back to me. It does take a moment to repair all of the damage I had endured, but now it’s as if I was never on fire in the first place. The only instance of me being burned are the memories. The burning memories. My eyes widen and my breathing goes unstable. Had I not healed, I would’ve never survived, even if I did get treatment. I look away from my hands and toward my home. I stand and run toward it, but the roof collapses, denying me entry from the main doorway.
“MOM!”
I yell at the top of my lungs, looking around to the windows, but the flames and smoke deny me. I hear another yell and turn to see the rest of the village in the same state. The entire village is burning, with the screaming only coming from the insides of the burning remnants and burnt bodies lining up the streets. I process everything as the adrenaline begins to wear off, and I drop down to his knees.
“ Hnugh! ”
I collapse, barely holding myself together. I scratch at the ground, filling my hands up with dirt. I sense someone’s footsteps. I sit up and crawl away backwards, panicking. I see another silhouette on the calm, blue moon, this one much clearer because of the fires around us. I see a man, his skin a gross, raw green, his hair completely white as it stands up. He’s incredibly muscular, has the snout and teeth of an alligator, and his scales look sharp. His leather clothing bounced off the light of the blue moon, reflecting back onto my eyes.
“You…” He pauses, inspecting so much yet so little of me. “You’re like me.” He says, his voice deep, soothing, entrancing, but there’s something off about it.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“I’ll tell you later. Right now, we leave.” They say, turning away from me before walking toward the forest.
“But, my mom!” I stand up.
He stops and looks at the fire burning his house. “She’s dead.” He says, turning back toward me. “Please, come with me. It’s dangerous here.” He explains. I don't respond as I start to bawl his eyes out, but my legs force me forward. “We’ll avenge her. For you, and for everyone else who died here.” He says.
Yes. We will.
“I-Is there anyone else?” I ask through tears and snot.
“They’re also dead, and if not, are dying right now.” He says.
“ E-even Becky? But, I-I saw her earlier today… ” I whisper to myself.
Even her, too.
“You’re the only one to survive. You’re lucky.” He says. He turns around again. “Follow.” He commands, and after a long pause, I do as he says.