When the young warrior opened the large wooden door, a substantial crowd of spectators greeted him, curiously waiting for the arrival of the one who had barged into their town without any bloodshed and entered the marquis’ manor uninterrupted. Well, the soldiers tried and their noses bled but it can be neglected to allow the beautiful metaphor.
All eyes were glued on the newly arrived Astraeus and for a moment, a very short moment, absolute silence reigned. Silence which was truly special.
True beauty can be found in silence since nothing affects you except your own mind and thoughts. What made things beautiful? Their unattainability for humans? Their uniqueness? If beautiful things were common, who would strive to experience them? The uniqueness made something interesting. And silence was indeed rare.
Of course you have to differentiate between a general and a personal sense. For Astraeus, who had been marching alone for a week now, his only companions being the animals and things he frequently talked to, silence had become a burden. Since it’s lost its rarity, silence was unremarkable for him, in other words: common.
But for the busy townsfolk who were hurrying and working everyday to provide food and shelter for the next day, who were constantly fearing the impending catastrophe, silence was a gift. Their issues either multiplied upon realising how many of them there were or otherwise disappeared since they realised that these problems are actually trivial if you don’t get to enjoy the luxury and success your fruits bear. Personally, silence equals peace. And in peace you flourish and ripe. Thus I love it. It’s actually one of my deepest desires seeing as I can never achieve it. Silence … ah how beautiful.
Gone. The magic of the moment was gone and the townspeople hurried away, fearing to disturb the intruder or gain his misfortune. The lively townsquare was moving again, liberated from the prince’s gaze, they shuffled towards their huts and homes. All but one.
The little girl who showed Astraeus the manor of the marquis was standing right before Astraeus, looking him innocently in the eyes. She’s still hugging that toy, thought Astraeus happily. “Thank you for showing me the marquis’ manor, I do appreciate that. As a reward, you’ll get this pelt,” Astraeus said as he pulled the heavy fur above his head. “Keep it safe. In the future it’ll benefit you greatly. If you want to travel the world, this little piece of hair can fund the journey.” The young boy donated the fur to the little girl who reached out with her arms but upon receiving the pelt, fell to the ground.
The fur was simply too heavy. Uncertain what he should do, Astraeus simply nodded his thanks and left, walking towards the entrance of the village uninterrupted. He shouldn’t have. But the guards, tasked with protecting their home, friends and family, were hiding in the looming shadows cast by the tall church.
Maybe I shouldn‘t have given away my cloak so thoughtlessly, cursed Astraeus his stupid previous decision as he walked down the cold and windy slope towards Lake Incontinentia. His whole body trembled and shivered, exposing the effect the stinging cold had on the young boy.
At least the bloody trees are getting greener. Maybe the food will improve from now on if Irus‘ wisdoms are truthful. Please let them be true. I want food. Good food. Delicious food. Eatable food. Not the burned garbage I cook everyday. Why did I not ask Aflas to teach me how to cook? I should have listened to him. Or potentially - No. That‘s a stupid idea. She wouldn‘t join me anyways. Besides, I don‘t need her. I‘m an independent man, I don‘t need anyone. No one … needs me … Head lowered down and sorrowful thoughts accompanying him, Astraeus descended down the hill towards the Lake.
The trees are green. Why can’t I be as beautiful as them? Tell me father … why? As he casually walked on, Astraeus’ snapped with his finger and on each snap, seemingly a musical rhythm, one tree tumbled to the dirty ground, sullying its crown, cut by an envious boy and his monstrous power. On the hundredth and third tree the Lake finally got in sight and Astraeus stopped demolishing nature, instead focusing on the beauty of the Lake, the sun colouring the Lake and its surroundings in a pink glow. Regular beauty, visible daily but still, it fascinated Astraeus. However, this was false beauty. Beauty which couldn’t be destroyed nor prevented. What value does beauty have if it’s ordinary, usual? What if you had to share the view of this beauty? Would you like it the same way as you’d like something which only you can cherish, only you can adore? Thoughts like these keep me distracted. Of course they don’t fill Astraeus’ mind seeing as he was just a teenager but I had to fill the time he spent walking to the cave.
There he was, woohoo. At the entrance of a giant void, a dark opening, a passage into the unknown, a gate to mystery … as well as adventure. He definitely sought adventure, but why was he scared of entering? Situations like these occurred on a daily basis during his training. His educators and teachers would bring him some of the wildest and most dangerous beasts to fight and he’d beat them all. They would bring him demons to fight and he’d beat them all. They would bring him convicts, criminals, traitors and mostly simple soldiers … and he’d kill them all.
He was by far no saint, he was well-acquainted with the dark side of the world. The dark side called reality where men would die for their families, women would die for their children, children would die for no reason at all. This was his world. The world he was born in. But he had escaped it, hadn’t he?
I must have, he reasoned. Since I’m fearing the dark cave, my emotions are very human-like. It’s normal. It’s normal, he whispered the last sentence once again inside his head. A thought emerged in the depths of his mind. Why don’t I destroy the cave and whatever is inside will either die and thus be unworthy of fighting me or otherwise emerge from the cave and fight its last battle. Yes. That’s how I’ll do it. A simple but effective plan which obviously had its flaws but you can’t blame a child for not including the possibility of the rumoured dragon sleeping so deeply that a small rumbling wouldn’t awaken him. But Astraeus firmly believed that it would be anything but small.
He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, exhaling in a controlled manner. He lifted his hand and began his performance. As if he was directing a chapel full of musicians he moved his hand in a beautiful smooth manner, emitting serene authority. Finger pointed outwards, he also seemed to draw a picture. A picture invisible to the human’s eye, a picture as simple as stunning, a picture from within his deepest desire, from within the deepest pits of his heart. A picture … of death.
Ripping his hand towards the ground, Astraeus'' painting was finished. The melody he played rang of chaos and destruction. He’d destroy the sinister cave and the looming beasts inhabiting it. The beasts of the dark will die today, reassured Astraeus himself. The sky rumbled as if imbued with thunder, splitting the heavens and opening the gates of nothingness, unleashing its beasts into the realm of mortals. ‘Power’ would describe Astraeus well. He was the personification of power.
The rumbling intensified until even the ground was shaking and suddenly parts of the cave’s ceiling were tumbling down, breaking midair, scattering even more rubble and stone. Soon afterwards the sky before Astraeus was clad black. Even blacker than the cave itself was the doom that Astraeus summoned upon the dragon of the cave who would surely be dead after all the obstacles hit it. If there ever was one to begin with, contemplated Astraeus. A loud resonating thump announced that the first of the rocks had hit the ground. More and more thumps, more and more rocks crashing into the beasts, crushing them, obliterating them. Did he want to obliterate them? Or did he simply wish to attract their attention to prevent going into the scary cave? He liked fighting. He wanted to fight them. To prove his worth. To prove that he had a right to exist. To be someone you can be proud of. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
The last rock hit the ground. He had waited long enough but nothing emerged from the cave and thus he sadly retreated, marching back to the town. But a headache was plaguing him, gnawing at his concentration. It’s probably best that I don’t fight now when I’m not fully ready and at my best, he reasoned as he relaxed his arms and cracked his knuckles, rotating his arms in the sky to get his blood going. Maybe that would solve his headache or at least warm him. I really shouldn’t have given away my cloak, Astraeus regretfully remarked. Walking up the hill was certainly more bothersome than down the hill, especially considering the muddy terrain which glued to the boy’s boots on every single step. The same trees which he had cut down earlier seemed …
Strange. Why are the trees so grey now? They had been green just a couple of minutes ago … Fuck, was the last comment Astraeus could make before crumbling onto the ground, an excruciating pain gripping his heart, tearing his insides apart, forcing him to pray that he died since anything would be better than feeling the pain. The pain that he hadn’t felt in over three years. Why … Why is it coming now? thought Astraeus, desperately trying to fight the pain and stand up.
He managed to do so just by a tiny margin. He looked up into the sky and there it was. His nightmare. A terrifying titanic beast loomed over Bereticum, looking down on it with its hundreds of eyes, each observing a different prey, its food, humans. For the beast it was all the same. That much did Astraeus know since he’d seen it before. In his dreams. In his reality it was always present. Always trying to escape. Always challenging the young boy who was forced to prevent it from emerging. He had failed one time. After that he’d been hospitalised for a whole month. “Why are you here?” asked Astraeus with a shaking voice.
He was terrified. The monster of his dreams had appeared right before him, in the mortal realm, towering over the town, penetrating the sky like an anomaly, an abnormality, an abomination. Something unnatural. It didn’t belong in this world.
You don’t belong here, said Astraeus in his thoughts to the monster. Rage was filling him, clouding any rational thoughts, exceeding any other emotion. You can’t be here. Why? He had done everything he could. He had fought night and day to prevent this exact situation. He had sacrificed, prayed, bled for nothing. Everything just to eventually fail. Why couldn’t he do something as simple as contain the monster … Kashmar … right that’s what we call them. Kashmar. Kashmar. Kashmar! Exterminate them. Kill them! Make them BLEED! Astraeus dashed ahead with immense speed, completely ignoring the aching pain in his heart, ignoring the fatigue, ignoring everything to focus on one task. Destroy the enemy. “Fulfil the task, Astraeus.” That had been the sentence he’d heard the most in his childhood. He had been constantly commanded. Just like a dog …
His gaze shot up again, glaring at the Kashmar. Total silence filled his world, his perception. The only sound his mind registered was the wind blowing past his ears and the occasional cracking of a twig he stepped on during his sprint. But the monster didn’t utter a single sound. Even though it moved and rampaged through the city, murdering hundreds, destroying their homes and lives, it was silent.
Too silent for such an apocalyptic event. It should be louder. You shouldn’t see this horror in this harmonic forest. It’s too odd. Irus would hate it. Right, he told me to exterminate it. But … fuck. Why are you so ambivalent, uncle? One time you say that no matter the price I should eliminate the monsters from the other side while on other days you said that I should protect humanity and the common people. Fuck. fuckfuckfuckfuck. What should I do? Please give me a goddamn answer. But the only answer he received were his frantic puffs. Alright I’ll decide when I arrive. My heart will act on its whims. Please heart, be right, was the last comment Astraeus thought about before accelerating even more, now using all of his concentration on running at maximum speed which was comparable with a lion despite his young age.
The devastating beast transformed and obscenely morphed even more. Tentacles, spikes and maws sprouting out of its legs, attacking the poor population, consuming them, devouring their life essence, sucking the energy right out of their mortal bodies. Seeing this horror frightened even the experienced mage Astraeus. Yet he couldn’t allow himself to flee nor to waver. The Kashmar was here because of him. He’d need to expel it from this world. Astraeus you need to calm yourself! Don’t be afraid! Don’t … be afraid. Breathe. In … Out … In … Out … Right. When I’m calm, I can utilise my magic in the best way possible. Astraeus calmed himself while the Kashmar ravaged the city, still not emitting any noise. But the silence from before was broken. Astraeus clearly heard the screams of terror from the villagers. Little kids crying, shouting for their mothers to save them.
Gathering his composure and concentration, he released his magic aura. His dance of death and destruction began anew. It will be short, decided Astraeus. He channelled his magic into his mind, his consciousness beginning to fade into the eternal abyss of his soul. He closed his eyes, feeling his body fall. Falling was so beautiful. It was a time, denied to humans, where one could experience freedom. No restraints, no worries. Just time and wind shooting past you, swirling around you, enticing you. ‘Beautiful’ would fit a time as special and unique as falling.
The final act: His gaze fixed on a large falling object, sharp and gigantic. His thoughts focused on it and suddenly he was drawn back into reality in an instant. He looked at the Kashmar and whispered: “Perish, monster.” Raising his hand above his head, a tremendous magic aura was released which obviously scared the Kashmar. It knew who it belonged to. It knew what its owner was capable of. It knew which fate awaited it. It retreated a few steps, crossing easily over three hundred metres but to no avail. Even the ceasing of the assault on Bereticum couldn’t deter its doom.
Astraeus’ hand shot down and his magic aura vanished. The beast’s eyes went wide and strangely multiplied, first doubling, then tripling until the whole head was covered in them. It searches for my attack. Haha. Pathetic. Futile. His remarks weren’t filled with cynicism as usual but rather sounded nonchalant, uninvolved. As if his whole personality changed and disappeared.
The beast’s hundreds of eyes closed simultaneously. Its head was dragged towards the ground by something invisible, obscenely contorting the Kashmar’s body to the degree that all of its bones seemed to have been broken or dislocated. At least that would be the case if it had bones. Astraeus smirked complacently as he watched a rift form between the beast’s torso and head, black goo splattering into the air and ambling down its body. It’s blood? They don’t bleed in the void, remarked Astraeus grimly.
The cut expanded further until the Kashmar stopped in its tracks and hundreds of tentacles shot out of its body, darting towards the object severing its neck. They grabbed it and began to lift it up into the sky. With an expression of horror, Astraeus witnessed that the right claw of the beast was also helping, now fully able to lift the object which Astraeus had summoned, ripping it out of the wound. Even more shocking was the sight of the injured neck regenerating, pulling itself together, ropes erupting from the skin, stitching the beast into one again.
“Bloody hell,” muttered Astraeus, deeming his first, usually decisive try, as failed miserably. The beast opened its mouth, mimicking a roar which would surely have been terrifying. No, not would be, it was. Astraeus clasped his ears, groaning in pain. The beast was screaming. Not in the mortal realm but in its own dimension. The roar echoed off the mountains and hills, resonating multiple times, increasing in volume and intensity, threatening to burst the boy’s eardrums. The latter was desperate. All the previous preparation and the calming was useless. He’d awaken the beast. Now he had to retaliate and his composed self wouldn’t be able to. The awakening of the beast would require the birth of another. But would he be able to discard his morals for the sake of humanity?
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First, talk. Then, fight. Never solve your disputes with violence since the only thing that follows violence is even more of it. But that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t fight against people who threaten you. Decide with brain and heart. Yet you should never forget, the brain ignores humanity and morals while your heart doesn’t. If you listen to one of your components too much, you’ll suffer greatly. Be balanced and thrive.