The Bleak Walker

Lost In Thoughts he snorted. He crawled to the side of the alley, grabbing some of the leftovers, or whatever in a trash box. Rats crawled near the boxes, he didn’t flinch, and continued crawling on the alley. He found a half-eaten bread. His face brightened and he turned his attention to the side of the alley. He took the bread, blew the dirt, and started eating. People passed by the side of the road. He hugged his knees.

“Ab-sol-ta—fa-ha-b-a-ga-a-ha-hah-a-ha-ha-ha-ha-h-aha-h-”

He heard laughter coming inside the tavern. What were those words? He didn’t understand. It was already a blessing that he was able to enter this city. He walked through days and he got chased by bigger animals He found it odd that he was physically stronger - but it was a blessing.

“Blessing,” he thought. “What kind of blessing is this? I’m living off the trash of the people. I can’t even get any job. Who the fuck would accept a tavern boy? They always hire the girls.”

He was ragged. It wasn’t his choice to eat leftover bread. It was simply he had no way of eating. The streets were guarded and he saw a thief get his stealing-hand cut off. The animals outside were strange in a way that almost all of them could kill him easily. Even the rabbit hard a horned forehead. How could he possibly hunt and lived off the land? Not to mention the fruits were different and although there are familiar fruits as well. He couldn’t eat another after experiencing heavy stomach pains. Apples weren’t domesticated and they were avoided. He only saw brawny men and strong-looking women eat the apples. Their bodies glowed with magic-light.

“Damn it,” he spat the bread. It was moldy and he tasted an insect in it. He threw the bread on the box. He turned towards the sky. Cotton clouds that wholly covered the azure skies. He had not seen a diamond-shaped moon like this. He could not recall his name. As if there was a smudged or radio noise blocking. There were memories of him doing urban climbing and exploration. He recalled being on top of a building. The memories of those who knew were smudged by some sort of power.

The weather started to get cloudy. He sauntered out of the alley and turned his attention to the town garden. It was a town garden with a giant tree in the middle. The hollow of the tree was enough to keep him hidden from the sight of people and the rain that came in swiftly. His hoody was ragged, and it was cold. He hadn’t changed his clothes and no one would even help him. He was a stranger to these people and they all think he was a loony.

They were right in a way that it was impossible to talk to a person with no background. Who dressed oddly. And doesn’t know the common language of the soul. Trust was based on communication and without understanding, he could only be placed in this kind of situation.

The clouds wept and he could only hold on firmly to his will. The rain pattered slowly on the stone-paved ground. He looked at the blank space. When faced with impossibly he thought of only believe that he will get through this. Still, he was hard mud, and the protective casing he built around him cracked.

“Fuck, what do I do?” He asked. No answer other than the patter of the rain. Smoke rose from the houses. He could hear the songs inside the tavern that didn’t make sense to him. A little dog on the side of the road whimpered then went running to the direction of the home it belonged to.

The weather became drafty. The cold water seeped into the ground below. His stomach sounded. His body was cold that he recalled the breathing of the iceman. It was strange that he could recall the method. He started collecting his breath and regulated his temperature until his ragged breathing made his head grew numb.

It was then that he caught a glimpse of a maiden in a purple and gold dress. She wore a veil around her mouth and a hood that covered half of her knee-length hair. The maiden started to tiptoe, and wind gathered around, she bent the water and started dancing, tiptoeing above the water that gathered on top of the stone pavement.

Suddenly, she took out a lance of pure white, dancing with it, showing different stances. Her singing voice was nothing short but eternal. He felt his heart pumped and saw black veins escaped out of his palm and his vision made him see through the world differently. It was the same as having the vision of a hawk.

“What just happened?” He didn’t know why but he thought there was something odd with his body. He didn’t understand. He stood up, turned his attention to the maiden dancing under the rain. She must have thought that this was a secluded place and seeing him. She stopped her dancing. She pointed her cool eyes to him.

“Are you fine?”

He can understand her. He widens his eyes, struggling to get a word out. “I, am fine, just tired.”

“I see. You, I saw you in the town. Were you not a mute?”

“A curse,” he lied. “I think you cured, Miss?”

“Aria, I am Aria. And you are?”

He spoke. But no voice came out. He tried speaking his name but no words came out again. He said, “I am Amadan, I thank you milady, for freeing me. I thought I was going to be a mute forever.”

“Are you sure you are okay?” She said gently. “I’ve seen you, but to think you would be this impoverished. I can help you if you are willing to work for it?”

She offered her hand. Amadan couldn’t understand why. But he could only take this saving grace. Ever since coming to this word, Amadan felt kindness. He was just saved.

Book 3: Repeated Cycles