The Forgotten Conqueror

Chapter 1: Beginning's End

'Looks like... this is it..."

On a small hill, a lone, tired man knelt. As if praying for forgiveness, his knees together and his head down. Anyone would have thought him to be making a prayer to his gods or deity, if not for the scene around him.

Strewn about were dead bodies as far as the eyes can see. Like rich fertilizer generously applied, vast amounts of corpses laid in the morning sun. On closer inspection, even the hill he was kneeling on top of; was a small mountain of corpses.

The man was not kneeling because he was praying; he was kneeling because he was dying.

Up close, his face could be seen with cuts and bruises. He was missing half his gauntlet on his left arm—all the way up to his elbow, and missing half his right hand—the pinky to the middle finger and most of the palm up to his wrist.

Where his tired left hand drooped, a small dagger had fallen and imbedded itself into one of the corpse elevating the hill. His right hand held a brilliantly shining beam of light that was embedded into the ground. Brilliant as the sword was, and it did not radiate any light and would not illuminate anything.

The man had long fine silver hair that reflected the light of the sun, yet he donned an armor that was as dark as night. Not a single speck of light could be seen reflecting off the armor. A third of his dark breastplate had shattered, and his torn up clothes underneath were visible. Behind him, a ragged blood red cape—filled with holes, scratches, and tears—could be seen fluttering without wind.

The man was dying. Six weapons were stabbed into him.

Three swords: one in the back right between the scapula severing his spinal cord, two in his chest puncturing his lung and heart. The swords made a triangular formation. Three spears: one in his left leg severing the hamstring, another in his right thigh, and one from the back severing his lower vertebrate.

While the man knelt there waiting for the last vestige of life to leave him, warmth, deep sadness, and sorrow could be seen in his cold dying eyes.

As the morning sun rose, and the first warm ray of the sun hit his face,

'I am... sorry...' were the last thoughts he had in his mind. A single tear slowly emerged from his glazed eyes. Crawling down his cheek, it overcame the various cuts and scratches along the way to his prideful chin, and then finally fell away.

---

Feeling the heat of the afternoon Alivai sun on his face, Gladis slowly regains his conscious.

A foul smelling odor permeates through the air, forcing him to gag and wake up from his slumber. His whole body felt like a Lothan war elephant was on top of it, and his limbs refused to move. His body without strength, Gladis slowly forced his eyes open with the last ounce of strength he could muster.

As his vision returned and the blurriness of rest fades away, his awareness also came back. A sharp pain shot throughout his body.

Trying to move his body again, this time instead of the numbness of an elephant on it, there was intense pain. Gladis tries to open his mouth to force out his anguish, but all that came out was a low whisper and more agony.

Giving up on trying to move, he slowly scanned his surroundings with his unsteady eyes, trying to figure out what had occurred. His eyes locked onto a figure in the distance atop a small protrusion of elevated ground: clad in armor as dark as night, tattered cape of blood-red flapping energetically, a beam of light grasped in his right hand, and what looked to be a hilt oozing with miasma inserted into the ground where the figure knelt.

At once, Gladis recalled who the armored one was. His hair stood up on end, his voice left him, and a cold chill crept into his skin. His mind went blank, crying out in fear for what seemed like an eternity before realizing that the beast was dead.

Upon closer inspection, the armored one had what looked like three swords going through his body, along with three spears. No motion could be felt from the entity. Fallen on the ground around the entity, were a mountain of knights, mercenaries, and paladins.

Finally able to breathe again, Gladis slowly breathed as sharp pain shot throughout his body. His fogged memories of why he was there became perfectly clear.

The monster that manifested such fear in him was undoubtedly the being called Rhultal.

All Gladis knew, was that Rhultal was the Lord of Andarg. A province in the Honos continent ruled by the Gulsian Empire, and that seven years ago, he declared his independence from the Gulsian Empire. Unable to withstand the humiliation, the Emperor sent his armies and assassins to take back Andarg and get rid of Rhultal, but none succeeded. In seven short years, Rhultal quickly overwhelmed the Gulsian Empire, cut down all those who would stand in his way along with the Imperial family, and established a new order in the Honos continent.

The reason why Gladis was here now, was because he had been a part of the expedition sent by the church of Hianl along with a congregation of armies, put together through the secret unification of the seven continental empires and kingdoms. The three kingdoms of Alsus, Kolot, and Ruess.

And the five Empires: Valelin, Gulsian, Quiln, Ferilti, and Throbbo. They spanned the seven continents in this world—Lovis— of which they were the absolute powers.

One year before the overthrowing of the Gulsian Empire, the alliance had been formed. All for the sake of taking out Rhultal before he can overtake the Honos continent, and build up a force big enough to move onto other lands.

Unfortunately for the Alliance, before the alliance could gather up their soldiers and form a cohesive army big enough, the Gulsian Empire had already fallen.

With a combined force of over a hundred thousand soldiers comprising of knights, swordsmen, archers, war elephants, war hounds, magicians, and mercenaries from the alliance, along with around five thousand elite Paladins and Priests from the church of Hianl that had influences all over the world.

When they finally reached the Honos continent, after finding out that the Gulsian Empire was no more. instead of allying with the new ruler—for fear of the continuation of his conquest—the alliance slaughtered everyone and everything that had a relation to him, as they made their way to the capital where he resided.

After reaching the Honos capital of Veratoraliz two days ago. It was then that the real battle started.

Gladis was the commander of a band of mercenaries dubbed 'The Red Swords'. Named for their swords when painted red with blood yet seemed to shine with every motion, and their savagery in battle, resulting in the band coming out fully covered in blood from head to toe. Yet, even with his reputation and abilities, Gladis could not believe what he was seeing during the battle.

Arriving at Veratoraliz with the 100,000 soldiers and mercenaries, expecting a standing army of at least 50,000 strong waiting to challenge them, all that came out of the capital to face the army was a lone man.

From his looks, he was exhausted and half dead.

Eyes like they had seen all the deaths in the world enough for a thousand lifetimes, long hair of silver down to his shoulder making him look older than he really was. An uninterested but handsome face with a sharp nose and strong cheekbones, yet the overall feel and look on his face depicted that of one longing for death. Legs almost dragging but sturdy and resolute as he walked out the gates of Veratoraliz. Body covered in a deep black full body armor where that no matter how you tried to view it, had no reflection or depth to it. Even the current afternoon sun was not able to gleam a single reflection. Those who viewed it felt as if they were staring into an abyss with no end.

Behind him, a ragged red cape can be seen—with plenty of holes, tears along the sides and bottoms, and from the looks of it, could have been a cloak at one point—was flowing gently around his armor as if it was alive. On his left waist, a shabby scabbard measuring a meter long and two fingers wide with an intricate hilt and pommel could be seen.

On his right, too short to be a sword, a dagger's hilt could barely be noticed.

The man walked haggardly towards the army stopping a good hundred paces from those in the front.

As those in front tried to ascertain his identity via shouts and commands, a sudden gust rushes toward them, and through the whole army. An ordinary gust of wind it was not. All those in the front fell back in fear. Some lost the nerves to even move due to the sudden bloodlust, while those in the back felt their hairs stand on ends.

Before those in front could recover from their paralysis, in a sudden flash of light, hundreds of those in the front-lines were missing their heads. As if the outpouring of headless bodies spewing blood was the trigger to begin the battle—no one even noticed when the man had made his move, or even when he drew his blade and decapitated the few hundred soldiers in the front lines.

The concept of "seeing is believing" did not apply to this battle.

Those in the front who engaged as the battle heated up failed to understand what was happening, and while unable to understand what they saw in front of them, hundreds upon thousands of them were being wiped out by a single man.

The flash of light earlier was the sword the man had pulled out. The man looked to be holding just a hilt, but every time he swung his sword, flashes of light could be seen. The sword reverberated silence with every swing, and after each attack, as if the blade of the sword could extend, soldiers behind those who’d been slashed also writhed in pain and collapsed as if they had also been cut.

Like lightning, the lone assailant easily carved through the front lines and moves inward towards the body of the army.

In fear of friendly fire, archers and mages could do nothing but watch in horror as the events unfolded.

As if alive, the red cape fluttered happily in the air while the man, even in heavy-looking armor, easily moved about the battlefield with lightning speed. Moving between packs of soldiers and jumping towards new targets, looking as if he could fly. Other times, just disappearing altogether then reappearing amidst streams of blood and screams. With every slash, tens upon hundreds of soldiers fell by his sword. Attacks at him were avoided by a hair’s breadth or simply failed to make any damage to the abyss like armor.

War hounds were released, but like the soldiers, were unable to do anything due to the speed the assailant was moving at. Just the blood lust emitted were enough to quell and make any hound with any sense of self-preservation run as far away as possible. War elephants on the other hand, ended up killing soldiers in a panic while running away from the monster that was devouring lives.

Gladis's mercenary company had been stationed in the middle of the army, so he was able to spectate what was happening. It was not something that he had ever seen before in all his career as a mercenary.

When he signed up for the expedition, it was just to subjugate a rogue mage lord and his supporters sowing trouble in the Honos continent—to restore order back to the Gulsian Empire. Yet, the one they were fighting was no rogue mage, or could not be classified as one.

The battle has been going on for what seemed like hours, yet there was no end in sight.

Screams could be heard from every direction, and people ran for their lives. Those in the front lines became overwhelmed by fear, running towards the back hoping to escape. Weak minded soldiers broke ranks, making it harder for the soldiers to defend against the impending doom.

As the soldiers fell left and right, the man easily makes it to the middle where the mercenaries and knights were conglomerated. The knights keeping to their oaths and upholding their honor, dove in to help combat the monster that was unleashing his wrath.

With the resolution to uphold their reputation as “The Red Swords”, Gladis ordered his men into battle.

The battle was a blur, everything had happened too fast.

As soon as he dove in, all that he remembered doing was dodging and trying to make his way to the monster in black armor. The closer he got, the harder it was to dodge. His arms, body, and legs were getting sliced by forces unknown to him.

Running towards the target, Gladis's savagery flipped itself on with the anticipation for battle. Without regards for his own safety, he quickly got into proximity of the target. With a quick kick, he lunged forward with an overhead sword slash. There was no impact.

All he saw was the top half of his sword being sheared off, and then next thing he knew, he was falling on his face. All his strength had vanished. As he tried to get up, those running up to fight—or fleeing from it—trampled him. Luckily, his armor was sturdy and protected him. Unable to get up, all he could do was try to turn around.

Then he saw it again. A blinding flash of light searing his eyes and then everyone who was running or standing near the demon got severed in half. Still lying down, he turned to look at the one armored in darkness, but his strength from getting trampled and from the mysterious attack earlier complete drained him. Before Gladis blacked out, all he saw was the incoming force of the knights and paladins.

With everything accounted for, Gladis calms down and revels in his pain that he is still alive.

'After I passed out, the knights and paladins must have subjugated him' - was his assumption. 'I wonder if I am going to die here. Can’t even feel my body, all I feel is pain now.'

Laying there contemplating his luck, and his chances of survival for what seemed like a lifetime, Gladis heard the sounds of bodies being dragged and people chattering.

Hope welled up inside him.

With all his might, Gladis manages a weak scraping howl of a yell for help hoping that survivors would hear his plea and come assist him.

Reluctant footsteps edged closer and closer to his proximity. As soon as the figures came into view, Gladis noticed that they were not part of the church, nor were they wearing anything remotely similar to those of the alliance. As they got closer, and he could see them clearly, his face of hope slowly degraded into that of anger.

Who was standing in front of him were not a part of the army, but bandits who came to loot the battlefield.

"Oh, look! We've got a live one!" exclaimed one of the two looters

"Big brother, can we kill him and take his things?"

'This can’t be happening! NOT LIKE THIS!' - Gladis was shouting hysterically in his head.

"That sounds perfect. I'll even give you the honor of putting him out of his misery."

"Thank you big brother."

The bandit slowly pulls out his knife from his waist. Seeing the glee in the other man's eye, Gladis knew that this would only end one way. Resolved to his fate, he mustered all his strength into one last action.

"Ha-wha-t happ-ened.... to.... the.... army....."

"Will you look at that? He can still talk!" The elder brother spoke in astonishment.

The elder brother bandit looked straight at Gladis. Resigned to his death, Gladis tried to give as much of a forceful look back as he could.

"Well, you sure have spirit. But as you can see, there's no real hope for you. Even if we could help, we don't want to. So best we can do, is put you out of your misery."

"An----army...."

"I guess as a form of goodbye and thanks for your patronage with your items, I'll could tell-"

"Big brother, we don't have to do that, he's going to die anyways." The younger bandit interrupted.

"Quiet, what did I tell you about manners?"

"You told me nothing, but to do as you say."

"Good. Now do as I say, and be quiet."

-----------------

The bandits had been following the army ever since the alliance landed on the Honos continent.

Seeing such a force, the bandits instinctively knew they would be able to make money by scavenging whatever is left behind in the wake of the Army. Their instincts proved true, and many bandits looted to their heart's content, following the slaughter of villages and towns along the way to the capital of Veratoraliz. While some retreated with their hauls back to the mountain, many knew that such a force would only bring in more profit as they edge to their destination.

The smart ones decided to follow the army until their final destination.

Hiding in the woods and away from retreating soldiers, they saw the whole battle.

It had turned out that by the time the mercenaries and the knights engaged the demon, two fifths of their fighting force consisting of the foot soldiers, war hounds, elephants, and front lines had already been depleted. The fifth consisting of the archers, mages, and arbalesters was useless due to the fact that if they had engaged, it would have done more damage to allies than to the lone enemy.

The other two fifths consisting of the knights, paladins, and mercenaries also engaged.

But, that was when the demon had shown his true skills. The bandits saw the second flash of light that the demon used—which Gladis also saw before he got immobilized and fell unconscious—but what he did not see, was the horror that occurred afterwards.

After Gladis had fallen, the demon armored in darkness was even more ruthless.

After the paladins, mercenaries, and knights joined the fight, the demon pulled out his dagger. From it, a black smoke weaved through the battlefield. Unbelievably, like a giant hand hundreds of meters wide, with every slash of his dagger, a massive number of those in the front got blown away like paper dolls by the smoke.

Though those in front were unaware, the bandits and clerics in the back could clearly see what looks like a giant shadow looming right behind the demon. Every time he swung his dagger, a giant incorporeal fist swings in the same direction mimicking the dagger. It was like watching a god tearing away the wings of insignificant insects with little to no effort.

The battle had lasted all the way throughout the night into the morning of the next day.

While it was cutting down the soldiers, the priests, magicians, and archers started to harass the demon while trying to help those on the verge of death. Instead of fighting the front soldiers, he swiftly turned towards those in the rear who had incurred his wrath, decimating the whole rear guard in a matter of hours.

Whether through sheer luck, strategic planning, or exhaustion of the other party, the remaining paladins, knights, and mercenaries were able to slowly whittle down the demon as his fatigue grew over the ceaseless fighting. Someone managed to break through his armor and another even managed to slice through his hand that had held onto the dagger.

Eventually, the knights were able to pierce the demon's legs with spears which slowed his mobility. A third spear through the vertebrate fully destroyed his mobility, resulting in the mountain of corpse. Even when immobilized, the dark one fought to the point where no one wanted to approach the mountain of corpse. With deserters and so many dead, the army had been reduced to a measly few hundred of the most steadfast from the previous hundred thousand.

Eventually, the remaining paladins, seeing their inevitable ends. Invoked the Tri-Form Secret skill of Thullga, the God of Sacrifice. Sacrificing all their lives to pierce the three blades into the demon before morning, sealing his strength and sapping away his life.

The knights and mercenaries who did not flee during the battle and survived after the Tri-Form skill, were so exhausted, that when the bandits came out to loot, none were able to put up any resistance and were massacred.

"And that's what happened to the remainder of the army. Heheh. Sorry."

"Big brother, are you done? I want to test out this sword."

"Yea, go ahead."

Seeing the younger bandit bringing up a sword and raising it over his head, Gladis was resigned to his fate. He had been unconscious for too long and his body refused to heed his commands. There was nothing more that could be done, and no one who could help him.

*KHSCHUNK*

*********************************************

Chapter 2: Once Again

‘Will I be denied this time too?’ – The thought resounded in his mind for the twenty-seventh time.

Twenty-seven.

That was the number of times he had been thrown back into this world, only to be promptly dispatched and returned to the empty void to wallow in his own regret at how powerless he was when it truly mattered, and his sorrow.

Memories that the Entity otherwise known as Rhultal did not want to remember yet could never forget flashes through his mind.

Broken and bleeding parents even before he had yet come of age. His life growing up in the hands of those who would step on him and use him for their own purposes. Watching those he love and cherished in agony and mercilessly slaughtered. His hatred that sought out power. his lack of control allowing the darkness to slowly overpower him, his pain at what he had become when that was all over, and the people who allied with the monsters and brought him to his death.

Yet for some reason he did not die. His body may have lost all functions and the body has rotted with the passage of time, but his spirit can recall everything he’s done, and the knowledge of his past remains solely his without dispersing into the ether. unable to move on, eventually his spirit would merge into a being for the cycle of life, but upon birth, for reasons unbeknownst to him, he would most definitely be culled upon the sweet air of freedom; excruciating pain, followed by death.

Over and over this event has already occurred twenty-six times, and this was the twenty-seventh. He had already understood that this was his own private hell for everything he has done.

Bracing himself for the inevitable fate that follows, the thing that was once known as Rhultal falls silent relinquishing his will and anticipation at the prospect of finally being whole. He silently waits for the hands of death to drive him back. He heard shouting and yelling, and at some point it felt like the hands of death were upon him. For what felt like eons, he waited with abated breath. Yet death did not follow. Instead, what he felt were two wavering hands full of warmth, grasping holding onto him. The entity remained in silence, unwilling to make a sound. After an eternity, the hands holding him start shaking, and he felt the atmosphere change. A soft cry could be heard. Suddenly, the arms were clinging on to him as if clinging onto its dear life, and a loud wailing noise erupts.

Surprised at this turn of event and the possibility of life, the entity opens his mouth and starts crying with all the strength that his tiny body could muster.

As if in accordance to his cry, the wailing stopped and a sound of sobbing delight could be heard.

Confused yet elated, he sought to use this chance to once again walk upon Lovis.

—----

Stuck in a body without the ability to do anything and yet to open his eyes, he patiently awaited the day when he will finally see the light. He would cry as a baby would when hungry, but other than that, the majority of his time were spent in silence.

The days went by, his feeble body grew little by little, and as his vision came, he was able to cast his eyes upon the world for the first time ever since that day.

From what he can gather, he lived in a small house with a mother and a father. The house had three rooms; a bedroom, a kitchen, and a living room. There was an outhouse in the backyard. The bedroom consisted of a small two-person bed with a chair and a small table; in the corner of the bedroom was a chest containing clothes. In the kitchen, there was a small fire pit for cooking and a shelf for dishes and pots hanged by the wall. The living room was simplistic and only had a plain table with two chairs around it decorated by a vase with some flowers inside.

Occasionally he would be brought outside. There were many small houses like the one he lived in. from what he can estimate, about 15-20 houses were in this village with a hall for meetings and a slightly bigger house which probably belonged to the leader of the village.

His mother would take him with her whenever she goes on errands. His father was never really around, so he was always with his mother.

—-----

As the first cycle of season passed by, the entity was turning one. Understanding and knowledge of his new surroundings had become clear to him.

He eventually realized that he was the only child of the family. His father’s name is Troyle Paltos and his mother was Adalina Paltos. Their family was poor and his father was mostly away due to work; as a soldier guarding the outskirts of their village. With little pay from his father’s job, to help supplement the low income, his mother worked commissions; washing clothes or running minor errands for the villagers.

There was little respect towards his family, his mother would spend her time diligently washing other people’s clothes, but upon receiving the laundry, they would scorn her and accuse her of being lazy and not washing thoroughly just to lower her payment.

“Look here! There is a tear here now, why should I pay you the full amount of 6 erns after you ripped one of my shirt?”

“I’m very sorry madam, but that shirt was already ripped when you dropped your clothes off and asked for the wash.”

“There is no way that I would not have realized that one of my shirt has a tear in it! Here! In consideration for your work, take this 2 erns and be off, otherwise I am bringing this up with the Elder!”

“No madam! Please don’t! I’ll take the 2 erns, I am very sorry about the tear! Please forgive me!” Almost after every job, events like this would occur. His mother would get only a fraction of the agreed upon pay, and would be ridiculed with accusations of things she did not do just to haggle her out of a full pay. There was no other choice but to accept the meager giving’s since her husband was rarely at home, and who knows what the villagers would do to her and him if she had tried stepping out of her station. Sure there were those who sympathized with his mother, but those were the minority and most were in the same situation, so no one raised a helping hand.

He had begun understanding the language shortly after being able to see, and quickly learned by listening to his mother and people.

His mother had given him the name Kaidus, his full name was Kaidus Reilt Paltos. She would often cuddle him and sing him sweet songs, tell him of her childhood, of sadness and happiness, how she met his father, and would always whisper how much she loved him. Sometimes she would just talk to him like they were having a conversation, other times she would look at him and cry while holding him. Telling him how sorry she was.

He never understood why she would cry seemingly out of nowhere. This woman who gave him another chance at life, at retribution.

Born towards the end of Alivai, after the seasons of Fulta and Rinol had passed, he had already begun to crawl. At the end of Grunei he had started walking.

The seasons had flew by, and his first birth cycle came.

After making stew out of the small piece of scaly hare that she obtained earlier for 2 erns – almost half of today’s wage – and a couple of edible plants and roots, his mother ladled a modest portion into a small bowl, telling him to eat after making sure it had cooled enough for him. As he ate, she ladled herself a bowl, and slowly sipped her soup.

Noticing that his bowl had pretty much all the hare in it, he looked at his mother inquisitively.

Aware of his gaze, she gently smiled at him then tells him happy birthday, and as if recalling a deep sadness, she slowly tear up and started sobbing as per the usual.

Through the course of the past year, she would talk to him: while doing errands, bathing him, putting him to sleep, feeding him. His parents could not afford a baby sitter, so his mother was always with him. In that year, he had never spoken a single word. He used to cry when he was hungry, but after eating, he would quietly fall asleep or lay about while his eyes darted around at the environment. even after learning how to crawl and walk, whenever he was hungry, he would just crawl or waddle to his mother and tug on her skirt signaling his hunger. He had adapted to his small body, and by the time he started walking, he had already weaned himself of her milk and had started eating her cooking. He had always wondered about the sadness in his mother.

After months of deliberation on the reasons, for the first time he spoke to his mother.

“Why do you cry?”

“!!” – was the reaction he got.

Chapter 3: Adalina

Adalina was born Adalina Drallfus in the small village of Nultulk. She was from a lower class family who grew up working in the fields with little education. Her family consisted of: her parents, two sisters and a younger brother. She was the second eldest of the siblings.

When her sister turned 16, her sister was married off to a lumberjack’s son from a nearby village. Adalina had delusions of one day leaving home and marrying a handsome merchant who she would travel the seven continents with. Alas, such fancies were not to be and even before she was old enough to marry, she had caught the eyes of a local innkeeper. When asked for, her parents refused her to him due to the fact that the village knew he was not a decent man, with two prior wives who already left him.

One day as she was gathering water from the river, bandits had attempted to kidnap her. A young soldier that was passing by had seen the incident and made a ruckus and interfered, resulting in the kidnappers running away. Seeing that the kidnappers were actually people affiliated with the innkeeper, she begged for the young man to take her with him.

That was how she met Troyle.

On their travels, she disclosed to him why she wanted to run away, and what he had saved her from. The young soldier also told her of how he was one of the few mercenaries that were hired by her village to solve the amber fox infestation in the nearby forest. He had finished talking to the village elder and was on his way back to report to his company head when he saw the kidnapping. After the rendezvous with the mercenary band, she decided to stay with them, learning various things from the older females there.

The mercenary band did a lot of traveling due to the nature of their work, and she would follow them. Helping to cook, cleaning, and washing dirty laundry. When she has time, using what little knowledge that was taught to her by her father and various trials and errors; she would scavenge for edible plants, berries, nuts, and roots during the travel. Adalina had only planned to follow the band to the nearest highly populated town where she could find work and try to live on her own, but after getting to know the people in the mercenary company, and Troyle, she decided to stay with them.

She eventually fell in love with Troyle, and after four years with the mercenary band, they got married. During a job, Troyle injured his left shoulder and was not able to able to work as a mercenary anymore, so they bought a small house with the money they had saved up, and settled down in the village of Hilthu on the southern edge of the Darsus continent.

Being outsiders, the villagers were indifferent to them which was just fine. After recovering to an extent, Troyle was conscripted to join the village guards and sent to the outskirts of the village. Only to come home once every five days.

As the days went by, and Adalina became pregnant, she felt the weight of loneliness disappear. She spent her days doing what little work she could in her pregnant state, and talking to the life that was growing inside her.

It was a horrible birth and even though she thought she would never make it, the child was birthed safely. As if stillborn, the baby made no sound after entering the world. The midwife slowly lower her ears to his chest and mouth to listen for any indication of breathing. Upon closer examination, the child had ash gray hair, and two birth marks on his chest that looked like scars.

The midwife, seeing his hair and birthmarks started shouting “Demon! It’s a demon!” And as per the religious doctrine of the Holy Hainl Order pertaining to those with silver hair. She was about to crush his tiny neck with her hands.

“Remove your hands, before I remove your head from your neck!”

Yet before she could, a sword was leveled on her neck. Luckily that day, a replacement had been sent to call Troyle back when she had gone into labor. Seeing the fury in his eyes, the midwife relented and gave him the newborn then briskly left the room and the house altogether. Troyle looked at the newborn inquisitively with a face full of confusion and doubt then at Adalina. Troyle had dull red hair, and Adalina had sleek black hair, yet the color of the child’s hair was gray. Doubt and confusion were the only things occupying his mind.

‘Could she have been fooling around while I was out there putting my life on the line to defend this village?!’

In anger, Troyle lashed out at his wife.

“IS THIS WHAT YOU DO WHEN I’M OUT THERE PROTECTING THE VILLAGE?!”

In his anger, he had forgotten her faithfulness, and mistrust had clouded his mind. Adalina tried to convince him that she would never do that, and that the child was truly his, but Troyle would not listen. Seeing the murderous eyes of his mercenary days, Adalina slowly rose up from the bed. Strengthened by willpower alone, she attempted to fight for her child’s life. With a speed unlike that of one who had just given birth, she quickly snatched the baby from Troyle. Clutching him to her breast, she begged and pleaded Troyle to believe her.

Outraged and perplexed, Troyle promptly exited the room before he could do anything unforgivable.

Left in the dim lights of flickering candles, Adalina gently caressed the newborn in her arms. Fearing the worst, she silently waited while holding onto the child. Bringing his tiny body up to her ears, she could hear a low breathing sound, she could see his tiny little chest rise up and down with each subsequent breath. Her relief was short-lived, as the breath started slowing. Not sure what to do and with what looked like impending doom hovering over her child, Adalina cried. All the happiness when she found out that she would be a mother came crashing down, and nothing but grief remained. Clinging onto the baby, she let out her despair.

“NGHGAAAAAAAAAA! NGHAAAAA!” As if telling her he was there, the child started crying with all his might.

Like a ray of light piercing the darkness, her sorrows disappeared. As if a child’s adorable trick had gotten the best of her, a light laughter could be heard mixed with her diminishing sobs. As she watched the tiny bundle of life in front of her quiet down and fall asleep, she decided to name him Kaidus, with Reilt as his middle name meaning ‘Silent one’.

After that night, rumors of Adalina giving birth to a demon spread across the village.

———–

After calming down and thinking things through, Troyle did not go back into the house that day. Instead he went around the village asking for information and looking for clues on anyone who came through the village with gray or white hair. No one had any information, and those who did, were old people telling him of legends with people with gray silver and white hair. No one in the town had white hair; most of the villagers hair color was predominantly brown, there were only three people with blue hair, seven families with blonde, a few of those with red like him, and two other families with black like Adalina.

No one had ever seen anyone with anything close to gray hair not to even mention white, ever since times immemorial.

Looking at the evidence before him, Troyle had no choice but to accept the facts that his wife was faithful, and that he was out of line.

With the midwife’s incessant spread, and Troyle inquiries, the rumor of Adalina giving birth to a white-haired demon quickly became known throughout the village.

———–

With the rumors going around that her child was a demon, Adalina could do nothing but take their jeers while bringing up her child. The indifferent attitude towards their family when they first moved in was now full of contempt. After much investigation and deliberation, Troyle had apologized to her and believed that Kaidus was his child, but when he is off on patrol, he could not protect her from the glares of the villagers nor their scorn. Her previous abundant jobs of helping out around the village slowly declined, and the previous payments drastically dropped to barely a fraction of their prior pay. Always having to bring her child along when she is working, she can feel the disdain from those she passes, yet the majority of the gazes were not even focused on her, but at the child whose sin was being born into this world. She hated herself for this. She hated how; due to her love, she had brought him into this world, and because of that love, unable to set him free from a fate of hate and loneliness.

The only ones whom she did not feel such gazes from were: her husband, children too young to understand, and those who have known such scrutiny and contempt.

Then there was the child. As if sticking to his middle name, Kaidus grew up in silence. There were times when she feared that his eerie silence helped to reinforce the rumors, but such thoughts are quickly extinguished by her maternal instincts. Kaidus always remained quiet, but whenever hungry, he would cry at the top of his lungs just like when he was born. As he grew and his vision became apparent, she would sometimes notice eyes filled with intelligence; observing and examining his surroundings. Occasionally when looking at him, she would notice him staring back at her. Love and fear would war inside her. Upon staring at such a small and inquisitive face, she remembers how happy she felt when she gave birth to him, but adversely how unfortunate he is to have been born with such traits. This regret would overwhelm her often causing her to break down in tears.

By the beginning of Grunei, Kaidus had already started to crawl, and the silence became more prevalent. Instead of crying, he just tugged on her for her milk whenever he was hungry. At home, setting him down while she cooks, he would often disappear but would always be found in the backyard sitting in the grass, just staring into the distance.

As his curiosity grew, and as if he can understand what she says, Adalina would often talk to her son and tell him stories. She would spend hours just talking to him while she worked. she talked about insignificant things such as; having pets, what she liked to eat, who wanted what to be washed, how sharp her kitchen knife was, etc… other times, about life, how to farm, how she grew up, what kind of plants she used to pick in the forest when she still lived with her parents, and other useful tips of life. Catching him looking at something, she would pick him up and name it for him while pointing it out.

Towards the end of Grunei, Kaidus had already started toddling around, and had started to refuse her milk whenever she tries to feed him.

As usual he would tug on her signifying his hunger, but instead of drinking her breast milk, he push towards her own meal. Knowing that a few of his baby teeth had already came out, she spooned him a small piece of mashed derilt root from her bowl, and he had eaten it.

Ever since then, he only ate solid food and would refused her milk.

————–

After a hard day’s work on the field helping to weed the newly planted furuce, Adalina’s pay was 5 erns. The usual pay was 15 erns per day, but since less and less people had started employing her, she had begged for the job to help with the farm, and was reluctantly accepted at the measly pay of 5 erns.

Walking home from the field, Adalina would take detours along paths less traveled and used her talents from her old life to scavenge and scrounge for edible herbs roots and plants to supplement the need to shop for such things. She met a hunter on the way back to the village and had procured a small piece of a scaly hare for 2 erns. Meat was expensive, but since today was a special day, she decided to surrender the money.

Kaidus watched her patiently as she cooked the piece of scaly hare into a stew—with plenty of derilt root and dry ciscut leaves chopped into fine pieces. Dried herbs were also added with salt to season the stew. After the stew was ready, Adalina scooped most of the nutritious scaly hare into a bowl, and blew on it to cool it down before giving it to Kaidus.

Meat was not a rare treat in the house due to the fact that Troyle would bring some home whenever he comes back, but scaly hares were extremely rare within the village. They were also very delicious and rich in fat while the meat were filled with unfathomable flavors, coupled with the fact that they spent their lives underground only appeared nearing the end of Alivai to breed, she was quite lucky to have procured some. A whole hare would have cost about 30 erns, so getting a small chunk of it for 2 erns was definitely worth it.

As she finished what little scaly hare she got in her stew, and began to eat the roots and sip the broth. She lifted her head up to watch Kaidus eat, only to see him staring back at her. With his cute adorable face looking at her curiously, she smile at him and said “happy birthday”.

Kaidus has never troubled her ever since he was born. He never makes a sound even when people are yelling around him, he never cried out besides when hungry, even when the pressure of life and the village has gotten too much to bear and she would cry, he would just stare at her as if unsure of what to do. He was quiet most of time and she could never figure him out. Yet his actions never bothered her or caused her to worry, instead she would talk to him about various subjects even if he never made a sound back.

‘Such a wonderful child is regarded as a demon, and all I can do for him is to try and shield him from the hate. Even for his birthday, I could do nothing but give him something to eat. How I wish I had more to give him.’

With such thoughts, tears began to swell out of her eyes.

Staring at her, Kaidus slowly opened his mouth and asked her -

“Why do you cry?.” With crisp clarity.

“!!” Surprised, Adalina was at a loss for words.

Chapter 4: Flow of Mana

Along with the villagers, Adalina had assumed Kaidus was a mute, but that was no true. The child was now emanating an air of intelligence.

For his first few words to be a question inquiring about her sadness was beyond her expectations. She knew he was different due to his usual demeanor, but this something else.

'It's a Demon!!' - The voice of the midwife from a year ago resounded in her head.

Fear and surprise overtook her for an instant and her legs gave out. Kneeling on the floor, order returned to her mind and the fear quickly dissipated.

"Are you okay?" - Kaidus asked as he walked up to Adalina.

Looking at the cute little face before her, she slowly began to speak.

"You know, mommy was afraid you were never going to be able to talk. Yet, here you are asking me about why I am crying all of a sudden. I feel like such an idiot for worrying about nothing." - neglecting that fact that a toddler at his first birth cycle had clearly and proficiently spoken to her, she had replied as if normal.

"I'm sorry." - was the reply she got in return.

Not completely convinced that this was real and not a figment of her imagination,

"And how long have you been able to understand?" - Adalina wavering, tried to make sense of the situation.

"Ever since I started crawling."

'Ever since then?! But he was barely six months old!' - Adalina could not believe it. Out of loneliness she had always talked to him ever since he was born, but to have been able to understand her since he was that young was extraordinary. Her fear grew stronger as no human child could have done such a thing.

"Why do you cry?"

Lost in thoughts, Kaidus's question shattered her delusions and brought her back.

-----------------

As if a dam had broken inside Adalina, all the reasons came out.

'It was me. Because of me, the villagers are mistreating my family. Because of me, she suffers. Because of me, she blames herself and kept it all in all this time.' realization dawned on him.

"Let’s see, I think like this" - closing his eyes, Kaidus concentrated.

The gray on his hair slowly split into two different colors; a pitch black, and a pure white as if to start glowing any second. Then the white suddenly vanished and all that was left was a head full of black hair like Adalina's.

Astounded, Adalina knelt silently while watching the event unfolded.

Opening his eyes, Kaidus spied a terrified mother who looked like she had lost her voice.

For a span of minutes, mother and child stared at each other, unsure of what to say.

"Are you a -" catching herself, Adalina tensed up at the question she had unknowingly blurted out.

"?" - tilting his head to one side he wondered at her words

"I'm sorry, I mean, how did you do that with your hair?" Adalina asked unconvinced

"Some of my mana may have been leaking out without my notice, I just absorbed them back." was the reply Adalina got.

"MANA?!" another shock of surprise escaped Adalina's mouth. Being able to talk and converse at his age was unheard of. but for him to also have mana - not to mention know what it is - and be able to control it, is something that is borderline out of this world.

She quickly revisited her prior thoughts, but refused to go further.

Mana was not rare ages ago, but eventually, those who could control mana had slowly diminished. Currently, the majority of those who have mana were Nobles - primarily nobles hailing from a distinct line of ancestors with overwhelming mana. She herself has no knowledge of either of her parents having mana nor theirs, Troyle's ancestry from what he has told her also doesn't go back far enough to tell if mana was in his line or not.

Although it was not strange for families from a line without mana to suddenly birth a child with mana, it takes years before any such sign could be physically viewed, and developing it would also take years. Not to mention such situations were one in a million. Yet, here was a child, for all she knows, knew what mana was, and could control it ever since he was born.

"Why did my hair estrange us from the village?" - Kaidus questioned while Adalina was in her state of shock.

"Huh?"

"You said it was because of my hair that we're living in such a state, and I would like to know why" - a prompt reply

--------------

A long dead religion, a long dead demon, a long dead legend.

Thousands of years ago, the world was prosperous because of mana.

One day, a demon with a great amount of mana raised an army and overtook one of the seven continents, slaughtering the beloved Emperor and his subjects. The other six continents sent in reinforcements to stop this evil. For surely for if it was not stopped, it would swallow the entire world. The battle took seven days and seven nights, and on the dawn of the eighth day, Heroes emerged. These heroes, having fought to exhaustion sacrificed their lives, and finally sealed and destroyed the demon.

Shortly after, the Church decreed an order; anyone born with white hair was to be denied life because they are demons.

After the order, a crusade swept through the seven continents.

Ages passed and such battles became legends. Legends became myth. And all that was left, was a dark period in history.

Although the Church that made the decree was long dead and new religions have sprouted up to replace it, the idea sown into the mind of the public that; 'white hair was unnatural and the only explanation is that it was a demon' continued to prevail into modern-day.

Due to having grayish white hair, superstitions kicked in and caused the village to behave the way they do.

-------

The majority of the reasons were contrived and unsophisticated superstitions, but Kaidus was able to question his way to some semblance of information from Adalina. While Adalina fancied all this as some sort of bedtime stories about heroes and demons kings, Kaidus knew all too well the truth. He lived it.

It seems, the church had known that their seal was not perfect and would not be able to completely destroy him. Thus, putting into motion a failsafe in case he is ever reincarnated.

'Well, that explains that.' Kaidus thought to himself, remembering the other 26 times he was sent back to the void. It was because of this ridiculous reasoning, and his lack of control at birth.

It would also appear that an enormous amount of time must have passed in this world for the Church of Hainl to have been dead for so long.

'If it's been that long, then what is my purpose here now?' he wondered to himself.

Not wanting to make Adalina even more suspicious than she already is, and not wanting to reveal himself,

"Is having mana a bad thing?" - Kaidus questioned innocently.

"No it is not. In fact people born with it are extremely rare, and those with talent are always sought after."

"Then there should be no problems from now on?"

"I don't know Kaidus... sometimes people's minds are harder to change than their appearances. The villagers will probably never get over the fact that you were born with white hair despite knowing you also have mana."

Attempting a solemn bow with his tiny body,

"I am sorry for causing you trouble. It is because of me, that such unfortunate -" events befell you.

But before he could finish the sentence, he was in a tight embrace.

'This is...' warmth filled him.

"It’s going to be alright." - Adalina whispered.

Disposing of everything that she had just witnessed, Adalina held onto Kaidus. Whether he was a demon or not, did not matter. The sorrow in his tiny eyes when he tried to apologize practically killed her inside. A sorrow unfitting his age.

"You are just a little different from everyone else, you have nothing to apologize for. Everything will be fine."

---------------

The next few days were uneventful as usual. The only thing that seemed to have changed were the number of stares. Seeing the once gray-haired child with black hair like his mother, the villagers were confused and bewildered.

'Was it dyed? If it was, how was she able to afford such? How long would that facade last?' the villagers whispered amongst themselves.

Cheap dyes were easy to come by, but they usually wash off or weren’t very good. Seeing the state of poverty the Paltos house was in, no one would believe they had enough money to afford good dyes that don’t wash off.

The idea of having a demon trying to fit in and become inconspicuous within the village rattled a lot of nerves with the villagers, and whispers quickly became outspoken disdain.

Even people who had sympathized with the Adalina's situation eventually felt as if the whole thing was to trick them into forgetting she was not parent of a demon.

------------------

Troyle came home for his break to find a village full of disgruntled villagers.

"Get out of this village you liar!"

"Demon worshipers!"

"Don’t think that this changes anything, just because he has a head full of black hair now, doesn't mean we don't know what he really is!"

Confused at the outcries filled with anxiety towards him, he quickly made his way home to find his wife and child.

Upon seeing his son with a head full of black hair sitting by Adalina, he finally understood.

the villagers had assumed the child's hair was dyed as to fit in with the community, and because of such blatant attempts at hiding the unnaturalness of the child, the action angered a lot of people. They had assumed it was both Adalina and him downplaying the intelligence of the villagers, and so such words were also directed towards him.

"What is going on?" - Troyle irritably asked.

Kaidus just started at him, while Adalina was trying to come up with words that would diffuse the situation.

"Adalina, what is going on here? What happened to his hair? What is wrong with everyone in this village?" - Troyle questioned while staring at Adalina. He could see she was trying to come up with an explanation.

"My apologies, it was because of my selfishness that caused such a problem. Please do not blame mother."

"?" - The one who answered him was not his wife, but someone else entirely. A voice he had never heard before, a voice that carried itself through the room as if it were alive, coiling about. Meek but powerful, humble and dignified. Looking around the room for a stranger or one of the villagers, Troyle failed to spy anyone. His eyes eventually rested on the small child sitting by Adalina's side who was staring at him.

'Mother' - the voice said.

Willing himself to tear the gaze away from the child to Adalina, he saw her merely nodding as if to confirm his unspoken curiosity.

"W- What the hell is going on here?!" - Troyle asked again, this time stupefied.

-----------

'This child was born with mana!' surprise, fear, relief, happiness, and a plethora of emotions came into play at once for Troyle.

after hearing about what happened a couple of days ago, the revelation that his child could understand and talk, in his body contained one of the rarest commodity in this world 'mana' which could work miracles, and that he might even know how to control it, was unbelievable.

If it were anyone else explaining it to him, he would not have believed it. But in this situation where the party in question itself was explaining it to him, there was no denying it.

His son who has never made a single sound, this child who he had thought a mute and addled in the head, was explaining the things that transpired over the past few days to him with crystal clarity.

'So... the hair was because of his mana leaking, and by absorbing it, the hair returns back to their normal color. But that does not explain why he is able to talk already at that age... is it because of the mana? No one really knows what 'mana' is or where it comes from, just that some people are born with it. Could it also have the power to accelerate understanding in newborns? There has never been any such tales, but that's not to say there couldn't be one, seeing as how it's happening right now.'

Lost in his thoughts Troyle pondered endless questions about the mystery that had just been revealed to him. The only person he's ever known to have been able to control mana was his old mercenary captain. But even then, the captain never really talked about it. The captain's mana capacities were quite low, so he rarely used his abilities outside of jobs.

'Could he be someone else's kid? Where is his mana from? Is he the one in a million? What will happen to him? Could he possibly be a demon?!' - Troyle’s thoughts turned darker the more the thought about it. 'No! I had already come to terms with such things' - casting the doubts aside, he resigned himself to figuring out what he was going to do.

------------

After Kaidus had fallen asleep, Troyle and Adalina were quietly talking while in bed.

He asked her about the situation at home, and what has been happening while he is out on the outskirts. About their future and what is possibly in store for their son. About various things that he had never bothered to ask, or was too prideful and scared to talk about, and ultimately about Kaidus's situation.

Trying to convince each other, they eventually settled upon the idea that it was due to being born with mana that their son was able to talk at such an age.

After their talk, Troyle got up from the bed and headed to his desk.

First, he will write a letter to his old captain. Though Troyle may no longer be a mercenary, after years of being a part of the company, he knew exactly where the captain would be stationed.

Second, with the next trade caravan that comes into town, they will leave this village. His injured shoulder will never be the same as it was in his mercenary days, be he can still fight, and he could help guard the caravan in exchange for his family's travel fee.

Pulling out a sheet of light red Harkus paper from the desk along with some fine ground Dreevil ink, Troyle started to write.

Chapter 5: The Road

Ten days have passed since Troyle made his decisions. They were packing up and getting ready to leave with the latest trade caravan that pulled into the village yesterday morning.

Four days earlier, Troyle had left his job of guarding the outskirts and resigned from his post amicably with those he worked with. Those who got to know him knew he was a good fighter even with a bad shoulder and saw his leave as something of a loss.

Those in the village had a different mindset.

They passed off his leaving as an act of rebellion against the village, and hated him even more for it. When the news that Troyle and his family were going to leave the village came around, everyone was ecstatic to finally be rid of them.

It did not matter much to Troyle, and even less to Adalina; the village had treated her unjustly and she would not miss it. Luckily for them, only days later, did a caravan show up.

The caravan had traveled from Heveston, a large city 4 mountains to the west of Hilthu.

After finding out that the caravan was heading north towards Ferrent the capital of Darsus, Troyle negotiate with the caravan master and was able to get a moderately appropriate pay of 14 erns a day with food and board in a supply wagon for his family with a bonus upon completion. The job contract would begin after leaving the current village of Hilthu and end upon reaching Ferrent. Normally a caravan guard would get paid 50 erns for a hard day’s work since it entails: fighting and risking their lives, loading and unloading wagons, hunting, scouting, and various other minor tasks involved. To get 14 erns a day while having a weak shoulder and bringing along his wife and kids, was quite the bargain in reality. Luckily for him, being a former mercenary and knowing how to use a sword really helped with the negotiations.

After making sure that everything required had been packed into the wagon they were to travel in, Troyle took one last look at the house they had been living in for the past two years. Happiness and sadness mixed with an extensive amount of doubt swirled around the place. Almost of if telling him to reach out and grab onto it and take it with him. This place had made him the happiest man alive, and inversely turned him into the worst. After staring at it, Troyle decided they were better off away from this place.

"Let's GO!!!!"

As the caravan master shouted at the top of his lungs from the front, the wagons started rolling.

---------------------

In what looks to be a stronghold on the side of a mountain.

In a well-lit room two men were looking through documents.

"Karei, what happened to the Ytel job?" - An aged gentlemen asks his assistant while he brooded over a stack of paper on his desk.

"We got words from Jerik a fortnight ago that the job was successful. They lost 3 people, 11 were wounded, and 7 others were poisoned. He said that the poison was non-lethal, and that they should be back within 25-30 days once the injured were strong enough to travel." - The assistant Karei replied promptly and precisely.

"3 huh? I knew I should have gone...wait a minute. A FORTNIGHT!? How come I was not notified about this?" -the aged man shot a powerful inquiring gaze at his assistant.

"Because, you were still mending from your last escapade, and stress and surprise were not in the doctor's prescribed treatment. He specifically said to have you get plenty of rest, and have you move around as little as possible." - The assistant answered nonchalantly even throwing in an irritation in his own voice while still eying his own paper.

Silence-

Moments passed and as if waiting on cue, he slowly lifted his eyes from the paper and looked towards his boss. There, he spied a glint of realization and the side of his mouth tipped upward into a villainous grin.

"YOU BASTARD!! THIS WHOLE TIME!!!" - A roar erupted.

"Captain, that'll only open up your stitches." the villain replied while trying to suppress his laughter.

"You, conniving knave! This whole time! I've been looking through these boring old records because you said it was of the utmost importance that we sorted them. That you needed my recount of each, but it was just to keep me here in this hole!" - The man angrily jested.

"Now captain, you are going to burst a blood vessel like that. I know how much you love Margil's 'healing' potions, would you like to start bleeding again so I can get another flask for you?" - Karei emphasized the word healing.

"Uh. N... no thanks.........its fine...."

"Well then, shall we finish sorting these?" - Karei replied with a grin on his face

After an hour of reading and looking through records pertaining to previous completed jobs, there was a knock on the door.

"Is Captain Zikale in there?!" - A yell from the other side.

Anything to get away from the boring task at hand, Zikale got up to answer the door himself, but his assistant was already at the door.

"What is it?" - The captain asked after Karei had opened the door.

"A letter for you sir, from Troyle."

'Troyle.'

A name he had not heard for the past two years. Troyle was a loyal and distinguished mercenary under his direct command. The boy had shown great promise as a mercenary, and Zikale had tried grooming him into a commander. An unfortunate event occurred while on a job, and Troyle had decided to leave the mercenary life.

'It has already been two years. I wonder if he is better now, and would like to come back.'

Zikale pondered while taking the letter from the messenger.

On the red scroll, a dab of sealing wax was holding it together. An X was etched across the wax. At a glance, it was just a normal cross. Yet upon closer inspection; one leg of the X was significantly longer than the other three and going to the edge of the wax. This was the symbol of the Droxxon Mercenaries, and only those from Zikale's crew knew about the subtle nuance to that mark.

----------

19 days had passed ever since Troyle and his family joined up with the caravan.

They had stopped at two small villages to rest and peddle their wares and restock on necessary supplies.

When not in the hospitality of a village, the caravan camped along the side of the road or campsites that have been created precisely for travelers.

They were set upon by bandits one night which the caravan fought off. It had cost them a pack mule and a wagon pulling mare. Four guards were slightly injured, but luckily Troyle was not one of them.

Another evening, the caravan had ran into a pack of hungry kluse wolves while on the road, and had to fight for their lives and those of the animals brought along. It took them until nightfall before the last of the kluse wolf were either dead or had run away. Luckily for them, the kluse wolves were not big like other members of their family. In fact, each were only about the size of a small dog, so most of them were easily taken out, the problem was just that there were too many of them. That night, the caravan spent most of the night gathering whatever they could from the wolves before setting up camp.

Other than those, most of the trip consists of scavenging nearby areas for anything useful to use as ingredients or as tools. The caravan had hired capable trackers and scouts, and always had them move ahead periodically to find game or places to camp for the night; while avoiding any would be threats.

Most of Troyle's jobs were either helping to unload the wagons or making supports from logs to help lift the wagons while others people replaced broken axles or wheels. Most of his time was spent driving the wagon and riding with Adalina and Kaidus.

'He has not spoken a single word since the caravan arrived in Hilthu. I wonder if he is trying to act his age.' Troyle pondered.

The surprise that his son was born with mana and talking already was still fresh in his mind. From the look of it, that disbelief was not going anywhere. He shuddered at the idea that his son was talking and has understanding and comprehension. Sure, there were words the child did not know, but that was because he has never heard them. Once explained to him, the child was able to absorb the information and weave it out as if he had been making conversations with such subjects for years. Grammatical errors were low and few in between.

As if the jig was up, the child had started talking after the revelation. Although still his quiet self, most of the time, Kaidus would sometimes ask for seconds when eating, or thank Adalina when she feeds him or does something for him. He still ask what the name of certain things are, but in contrast to quietly pointing them out like before he voices his questions. The only thing that didn't change much, were that the questions and words were always in the privacy of their own home; away from the prying eyes and ears of the villagers.

Not sure what to make of this, Troyle decided to count it as a blessing, since the other options were much too scary.

----------

Riding in the wagon, Kaidus slept cradled in his mother's arm.

Though asleep in appearance, his mind was deep in thoughts.

'How many years have I been away exactly?' for the world to have changed so much, that people with mana is so rare? The language itself is not any of the main languages he knows. That story about the demon king was definitely my crusade. Even the order from the church was to counter my revival as if they expected it. If I am not mistaken, I have been reborn 27 times this time... exactly how much time passed between each reincarnation? Exactly what year is it? Why was this rebirth different from the rest? What is the point of my rebirth and retaining my memories?!'

Unable to find any answer for these questions, Kaidus briefly thought about what had unfolded over the last few weeks.

He had tried so hard to be impassive toward Adalina ever since he could remember. He knew that he was an abnormal child. To have retained memories of his past life -

Blood everywhere, the body of a women sprawled out on the floor, her husband next to her with a knife in his chest and a slash across his neck, a young child crying and begging. Pain, horrible pain. People crying and begging for someone to save them, a hand stained with a dark liquid slowly devouring the person, a darkness that no light could shine through

- He had tried so hard to keep the thoughts of seeing Adalina as his mother locked away in the deepest part of his being. His impassiveness was to lessen her affection so if she ever felt he was a burden, she can easily cast him aside.

Yet; the love she showed him, her effort, and her perseverance over every obstacle in her path, her sorrows, her liveliness, the anguish that she kept to herself. As he witness each and every emotion that she displayed, yet still retained her love for him, he began to let slip his facade little by little, and had eventually asked her a question. Ever since then, there was no going back to being the silent mute he was. They both knew he could talk, he had blurted about having mana, thinking it was a normal thing like in his previous life, only to find out that it was virtually nonexistent amongst the common populace now. Not wanting to raise suspicion and reveal his true identity, he had quickly played the role of a child, and managed to mollify the situation he had gotten himself into to some extent.

'I have to be more careful. I can see the fear in Troyle's eyes when he looks at me sometimes.'

Suddenly his eyes jerked open. Looking up, he saw Adalina's face, her mouth quietly humming a song that she's been humming as long as he can remember. The song always seemed to calm him. As if entranced, he silently listened to the song not worrying about what had shattered his concentration, for it was inevitable.

A minute later, a horn could be heard off in the distance. From the sound of it, a raid of sort, a signal for battle. As quickly as the horn died off, Troyle opened the flap of the wagon and told Adalina to take him and hide somewhere safe. Then Troyle grabbed his sword, a dagger, and a strap with some throwing knives, and left.

---------

They had been attacked before, but from the look on Troyle's face, this time was greatly different.

His face was frozen like the mask he used to wear, just before going into a large scale battle.

Surrounded by forests on both sides of the road, Adalina had no idea where safe was. instead of running into the woods possibly filled with beasts that could kill her and her child, better yet unknown plants that may poison her on contact and leave her paralyzed for days, she decided it was safer to stay in the wagon.

She quickly shoved aside a couple of smaller boxes and crates to get access to a larger chest. She pulled out most of the contents of the chest to make enough room for her and Kaidus and quickly stepped inside, then closed it.

The sound of battle could be heard from outside. Horses thundering around, dogs barking, people screaming and yelling from every direction. A horn was blown twice, thrice, and then it stopped. More screaming could be heard, and then screams from nearby wagons. Voices she had never heard before started shouting orders, and eventually she could feel her own wagon rattle. She felt someone get on the wagon. She bowed her head down in reflex to pray to her ancestors for protection, but she spied a tiny face looking up at her.

'Now is not the time to be praying! I have to protect Kaidus!' her fear stripped away, she resolved herself. Feeling around inside the chest, she felt something solid and pulled on it. It was one of Troyle's belt. Holding the belt in one hand and the other wrapped around Kaidus, she waited.

There was a shuffling noise as if whoever came on board was moving things around in the wagon. Then suddenly the chest opened and a thin, dirty, unshaven man looked at her, grinning jovially.

"What do we have here? A stowa-" *WHACK*

Before he had finished his sentence, she had smacked the side of his head with the belt. Causing him to stutter a couple steps back.

"YOU DAM WHORE!"

The grin was gone. His face was red with anger.

The man grabbed and pulled Adalina's hair forcing her to get up.

This time a sinister grin materialized on his face when he saw she was clutching a babe in her left arm.

"I see, you really were a whore." the man said while grinning.

Adalina tried again to hit the man's head, but this time he caught the belt with his left hand. Letting go of her hair, he slapped her across the face and jerked the belt out of her hand.

Stunned and in pain, all Adalina could do was curl in the chest trying to protect Kaidus in her clutches.

The man started beating on her, and tried to pry her hands apart. Seeing that she was putting up a fight, he called out to someone. A few seconds later, another man came into the wagon to help him. Eventually they forced her arms open, and the first man picked up Kaidus. Grinning, he took him out of the wagon.

Adalina cried and begged, but she was unable to escape from the second man's grips. Despair and fear erupted inside her, and her begging became incessant wails, powerless to do anything but watch as her child was taken away.

Suddenly, a blinding light flashed from the outside. The grip on her loosened. She scurried out the wagon while winking to try and recover her vision.

Outside, after finally regaining her vision she was accosted by a scene of bright crimson.

Blood was splattered everywhere. Looking around, she saw members of the caravan tied up and on the ground.

Some of them horrified. Others were still trying to regain their vision.

Her eyes darted around, she spotted what she was looking for.

In the midst of a giant flower of blood, Kaidus laid unconscious. The man who took him was nowhere to be seen.

Chapter 6: Aftermath

It has been two days since the attack on the caravan. The group had made camp in an area a little ways away from the battleground to recuperate. The atmosphere was gloomy; everyone was on edge, and not a single person had bothered to pitch up tent the first night - opting to just sleep in or under the wagons.

Whispers and rumors swept through the somber camp like a cold breeze; those who recalled what happened that day shuddered with fright under their blankets.

No one had been able to explain exactly what had occurred that evening. The only thing that everyone can agree upon was hearing Adalina's cries, seeing a man coming out with her babe in his arm, and then everything went white. As if the brightness of the sun itself appeared in the middle of the chaos; by the time blindness cleared away, Adalina was already out of her wagon and cradling her child; surrounded by a pool of blood and gore.

The seven or so armed men who had gathered everyone out of the wagons and tied them up had vanished, and in their place were nothing but blood, entrails, bits and pieces of flesh, and shattered bones.

4 of their own guards laid dead around the wagons; filled with sword and axe wounds from protecting the cargo and passengers, the rest had been captured. 11 guards had fell during the bloodbath against the main force of the bandits.

All the remaining guards numbered at 19, and most were wounded.

The caravan master himself had a broken arm, a black eye, and a broken tooth along with from what he says 'feels like two shattered ribs'. He had been trying to protect the passengers by attempting to barter with the bandits and had been beaten unconscious.

due to the fact that all of the guards had been injured to some extent, a few of the passengers had been asked to be lookouts while capable others were tasked with tending to the wounded until some of the guards could resume their duties.

guards and passengers alike who were able to move, had spent the last two days looting whatever they could from the battlefield, and searching for items that may be sent back to families of the deceased guards.

-----------

Adalina ripped a shirt at the seam. She then took a knife and slowly cut it into strips.

Taking out a dried dessil leaf, she crushed it first in her hands, then poured it onto a clean piece of cloth and attempted to mash it into finer pieces. After assessing that it was good enough, she removed the wrappings around Troyle's left thigh and applied some of the powder to his wound. She took a piece of the strips she had cut and folded it into a makeshift gauze and covered the wound before re-wrapping it.

Troyle's wound was deep but not life threatening if treated properly.

She had never imagined her skills - acquired from her time with the mercenaries - would ever be required again. Countless times she had done this treatment, helping wounded mercenaries and especially Troyle whenever he got back from a job. The Dessil plant was not a rare plant by all means, but it was inedible and filled with a thick bitter liquid that when dried, becomes something akin to anti-septic. She had learned from one of the mercenary healers that; by drying dessil leaves and grinding it, the fine powder could help dull the pain and prevent infections in and around the wounded area. From the constant necessity to apply aid to the wounded, she had made a habit of always having dried dessil leaves handy.

Of course she feared that one day he would not come back, even during his time as a mercenary she had been afraid, but she knew better than to keep Troyle away from the one thing he knew he could do well in life, and that was fighting. She had seen him sparring years ago while he was still a mercenary and had fallen in love. Taking combat away from him was like clipping his wings, and she would not do that to him. It was one of the reasons she did not beg him for them to move elsewhere when he was conscripted to join the village guards.

This time too, she was afraid. Not for Troyle, not for herself, not even for the caravan's safety.

She was afraid for the child that was laying on a makeshift bed of clothes. Kaidus had been unconscious this whole time. He was breathing, but no matter how much she attempted to coax him into wakefulness, the child remains unconscious.

She had spent the better part of the previous two night fearing for the child's life, and had not been able to sleep much. She tended to her job of cooking and bandaging Troyle's wound, but most of her time were spent by her child's side.

'This is because of me, because I couldn't protect him!' - She vehemently blamed herself for his condition.

"Wake up Kaidus... please wake up..." she begged with tears streaming down her eyes.

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Sitting there watching his wife move back to their child after she bandaged him up, Troyle was unable to say anything to lift her spirits.

He had encouraged her, had promised her that the child was merely sleeping when he first found out about the child's condition. But that was two days ago, and now his words did naught but fall on deaf ears. All he could do for her now was watch her in case she fell further into despair.

His eyes moved from his family and fixated on his leg. Predominantly his left thigh where his new injury was.

Towards the end of the battle, while fighting one of the bandits, another had come up from behind him. Parrying the first bandit's sword slash, he used the momentum to pivot himself and turn to counter the one flanking him. He miscalculated the speed at which the second bandit came towards him, and instead of waiting for the bandit to reach him and giving the first bandit time to strike again, he had lurched toward the second bandit to get in range. His quick movement was able to surprise the bandit that was flanking him, but by the time he turned around, the bandit he had parried was already upon him. Barely dodging a thrust to his stomach by jumping backward, the thrust caught him in the thigh. He was able to dispatch the bandit afterward, but it was only with the support of the surviving guards that he was able to come back alive.

Reminding himself about his blunder, anger swelled within him.

'I should have stayed with the caravan.' He regretted to himself

In two short years his judgment and skills had dulled to this effect. The sound of footsteps, the angle of a blade, the force of a parry, the speed of a thrust, movements like that of a swaying branch in a storm. His time as a village guard had seen little action, and even when something did happen, it was nothing more dangerous than a wandering wolf or bear that could be easily scared off, or trapped. He had lost his edge that had been forged via countless life and death situations. Thinking himself a more capable warrior than the other guards, he had failed to notice the idea of a second team, and opted to move with the main force instead of staying behind to protect his family.

Their force had consisted of 42 well trained and armed guards - including him - when the caravan first started out from Hilthu, now it was less than half.

After hearing from one of the scouts that a sizable force was quickly coming upon them, 8 guards had been assigned to guard the caravan while the rest went on to engage the enemy; the idea was to stop them before they could surround and used the passengers as hostages. Half way through the battle, a horn had been heard, thinking that it was a sign for retreat, they did not pay much attention to it.

The 4 surviving guards had said they were ambushed from the forest by a small team, from the sound of it, the enemy had weaved through the forest and waited for the horn to signal their attack. In the scuffle; four of the guards had been cut down, while the other four who reacted in time, ended with only wounds and subjugation. Bound and tied up with the passengers, they had lost all hope of surviving this ordeal until the strange burst of light.

Mulling over everything he's heard one more time. Troyle's anger slowly vanished, while confusion and regret filled its place.

A part of him knew Kaidus had something to do with the so called strange light. 'What had Kaidus done?' that was the mystery he had racked his head over the past two days on. But since the child was not waking up, he was not able to get any possible answers from the source. And that is assuming the child knew what he did.

A light that targeted enemies, with a force that was strong enough to - for lack of a better word - 'obliterated' them, utterly destroying them by ripping them into shreds as if the body had blown up from the inside.

The remnants of the attack force had come back to a bewildered crowd of bloodied people. Being in the vicinity of the bandits, most of the travelers were covered in blood and possibly gore. Adalina herself was plastered with blood from her back to the hem of her dress. She had been cradling Kaidus while the other passengers; still tied up, had kept their distance. While most looked surprised, fear was prominent in everyone's eyes.

even without an explanation for what happened, as the two days went by, some of the more superstitious and thankful passengers had come to the idea that; Adalina was some sort of dormant Malgin, and that her dormant powers had manifested and caused a miracle. Although there are cases of people exhibiting such events, it was unheard of in any adults, and most were definitely not on this scale. Adalina herself had vigorously denied it to him when he asked about the possibilities, saying that Kaidus had been the one who protected them.

With a hole in his leg, a son who had been unconscious for two days, and a wife who pretty much had lost her mind, Troyle sat there. Unable to usher any new words that would help calm his wife, he sat there silently watching and wallowing in his regret.

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"You are beholden. You will find me. I WILL be FREED."

-a dead woman, her husband with a knife in his back. A child in tears.

-his eyes adjusts, the figure of a man begging for mercy as he points at him before the man was taken away.

-the figure of a young girl, broken, crying, dying...

-a crooked gallows, the beam breaking due an excess amount of bodies.

-people begging for mercy, crying for salvation, asking for forgiveness.

-blood everywhere.

-countless bodies lay dying. Their life source leaking out like a slow moving stream.

-hands covered, dripping something dark and rancid.

-a voice whispering sweet words

-darkness. An endless darkness swallowing him up.

Realization dawned. He clawed at the darkness. Punching, kicking, struggling, running, everything he could think of; nothing works. Exhausted, he lays down and gives in. becoming a part of the darkness.

Days... months... years... ages... they all came and went.

Suddenly a liquid trickled onto him. With every drop, the darkness seems to slither away shrieking in agony. After what felt like years, the darkness eventually washed away and he could feel a warmth encasing his body. Grasping at this little bit of light, he willed himself up from the darkness, and opens his eyes.

"Adalina?" - A barely audible sound

--------

Looking at the child her in arms, Adalina cried again. For almost three days, he had been unconscious and she had fallen into the deepest pits of despair. There were times while she was cooking that she feared he had stopped breathing, and would hurry to his side only to find his tiny chest rising and falling weakly.

Being a mother, she had been prepared for when her children gets sick, but this was not a sickness. For all she knew, this had been some sort of incurable magic.

Kaidus was one who was born with mana, he had started understanding her ever since he was half a year old, and knew how to control his mana by his first birth cycle. Conversations came to him easily, and his eyes shone with intelligence and knowledge far beyond his age. Although she knew that most of the caravan members assumed she had called forth the light that saved them, there was only one person here who could have created a miracle. She was glad for everyone else's safety, but that miracle had almost caused her the one thing that she treasured the most. She loved Troyle, but he had grown distant over the last year after Kaidus was born. Although it has been getting better, and he had come to term that the Kaidus is his child, she can always see that he was doubtful whenever he looked at Kaidus. He had kept his distance and rarely interacted with the child until recently when he learned that Kaidus's hair was due to the child's inability to understand the situation and control his mana. Before that, Kaidus had been the only one by her side, her tiny sliver of better things to come. Glimpsing his ever watchful eyes drove her to push herself for his sake. Her loneliness washed away whenever she talked to him and held him in her arms. He was, the one thing in this world that she would be lost without.

Having cried herself out of tears, she calmed down.

"You cry a lot do you know that?" the tiny tired voice said as her sobbing came to a halt.

"Ehih... yea... I'm sorry." holding him against her in a hug she replied in a relieved tone.

"Adalina, I'm hungry."

"Oh! Sorry! I'll prepare something for you right away!" - Gently setting Kaidus back onto his little makeshift bed, she quickly got up and left the wagon. Her previous despondent mood had vanished completely.