Chapter 1. To Survive
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(El's POV)
Did you…
Ever see the sky?
Did you ever see the clouds with their fleet riding in the winds―twirling, twisting, and curling above?!!
I saw it once. I saw it twice… I saw it, through the ceiling of my… Hmmmm, dwelling might be a fitting word to use. Shadows wave, stretching languidly as I awaken, like fingers grazing the wooden construct, with rubble strewn about me.
In this span of darkness, I gazed upon the quiet night sky, sprinkled with starlight. Perhaps it was a hallucination on my part, but... it felt as though―the same whisper had been interminably caressing my ear for some time by now.
With weary hands, I propped myself up, sitting amidst the dirt and dust that clung to my skin like a second layer. Carefully, I shifted my thin arms, my empty stomach rumbling―a sound that echoed the whispers of pain surrounding me. At last, I had traced the source of that incessant growl; it was my own body, a harsh reminder of my plight.
Annoying as it was, it was mine to bear after all.
Turning my head to the side, I caught sight of spots and puddles of blood pooling beneath the jagged gaps of the massive wooden roof that had once threatened to crush me. It was a sight I wished was merely a nightmare.
The two elderly figures, who had hovered on the brink of madness, perhaps contemplating the unthinkable, like butchering or eating me alive, now lay lifeless, crushed beneath the debris.
Uh, maybe not crushed. I've no idea since I'm not the one there, and my eyes were not present to witness the scene either. Was it my fault? Perhaps. Was this a punishment from the gods, as I had heard whispered in hushed tones before? It certainly felt that way.
How had this calamity unfolded? I pondered, lost in the haze of my obfuscated thoughts.
Just days before, the three of us had teetered on the edge of starvation, our bodies drawn together in the stillness of the cold night. We had clung to one another in a desperate embrace.
Our scents mingling, a testament to our shared suffering. It was a slightly unpleasant closeness―by the gods, it was the odor, to be honest; but at that moment, it was the best decision we could make, a fragile lifeline that kept us alive, if only just barely at least.
I rose to my feet and brushed the dirt and grime off my torn and filthy clothes.
My white shirt was no longer white, and my short black pants were no longer black―both fading into their original felted fabric. Yet, I was grateful to have clothes at all, unlike my last friend, who had lost everything to the gnawing of repulsive, white worms.
Hmmmm… what was the name again?!!
Ah, maggots!!! Yep, that's the word. At least I remembered something correctly this time.
Uhhh, the dust didn't come off easily. Was it the moisture in the air that caused it, or something else? I couldn't quite grasp it. I had learned about it from the books I once read, but erratically, those memories were sometimes scattered in my head.
Well, anyway, the point was―something was wrong with my brain. How did this happen??!
I wondered. Surely, gradually losing one's memories could not have been a good thing, could it? Coupled with the fact that I sometimes struggle to remember anything precisely, it only made matters much worse for me.
However, dwelling further was pointless.
I continued walking until I stood beneath the moonlight, which had fallen gracefully upon the ground through the uneven hole in the ceiling, connected to the wall on the side.
Looking up, it was magnificent.
In this godforsaken land where death roamed about without a path, there was still a beauty to be admired―a fuzzy warmth nestled, flowing inside my chest; as I found the charm in the world, remaining so mesmerizing even amidst this unsettling reality.
A moment later, I grimace. The side of my head, my right knee, and my shoulders―all were in pain, likely from the debris that had fallen on me earlier. However, this discomfort was bearable compared to the pain in my stomach.
I was starved.
*Drap drap drap*
*Neigh*
Suddenly, the faint sound of horse hooves echoed in the night, growing louder. One, two, three... surely there were more. Damn it, weren't they leaving already?
Oh, how furious I was. I gnashed my teeth. Felt like a hammer interminably pounding inside my chest.
Before, this lovely abode was at least a shelter from the rain and cold, but then it exploded out of nowhere, leaving chunks of broken wood all around.
Why? I had no idea.
All I knew was that―there was fighting on the other side of the wall before chaos erupted, and boom; now here I am, with dried blood marking my face from the roof that nearly killed me. I'm just slightly fortunate to still be breathing here.
As I remember that morning, other poor and famished villagers were scattered about outside, walking to and fro, tending to the dry fields as part of their daily routine, when they were suddenly attacked.
Me and the two elders, who had already peeked outside, were hiding, quivering with fear. I was not trembling or afraid for my life; my hands and legs were just weak from hunger, hence the shivers.
In short, I'm not scared!!?
For a while, there were loud sounds―what one might describe as shrieks from men and women ringing outside. I'm sure there's a clash of swords with hoes and spades, perhaps. I had no idea if the villagers could even fight back, as they seemed all skin and bones to me; not like the warriors I once saw visiting this village with their tall statures, massive arms, thick thighs, muscles bulging, and intimidating faces to boot.
Could you imagine that? It was nerve-wracking, knowing this village was likely doomed.
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I pressed myself against the cool wooden wall, my small frame swallowed by the shadows that danced in the dim light.
My heart raced as I scurried to the side with my little feet, every instinct honed by the countless times I had narrowly escaped death. The ball of flames from the indignation inside my chest gradually also grew colder and dimmer, until it fizzed out, replaced by a jumpy clown.
Yet, despite the anxiety that gripped me, curiosity flickered within. Perhaps this time, they were not the ones who attacked this settlement earlier.
The possibility might not have been much, but still, I prayed to all the gods above or below or even in the middle, might as well each side if they were even existing―that this time, they were kind souls brimming with food like fruits, bread, or anything edible; unlike the grass, hay and bark I had nibbled on this morning.
The mere thought made my stomach churn even more, and my mouth watered from the expected flavor.
Now that I have time to consider it carefully, I am fortunate, weren't I? Before the attack, I had drunk plenty of water. At least, it helped me survive, for I seemed to faint for quite a long time.
Shortly after, I heard and saw men dressed in fine clothes, all in black, swords at their waists. One of them, with a slightly reddish beard, appeared to give orders to his subordinates. I could faintly catch snippets of their conversation, especially from the two men who were approaching my location.
"Crap," I muttered to myself.
They couldn't be the good guys, not with how suspicious they seemed. It was evident, especially since they carried no bags for food, only those swords, not even a small pouch.
Oh, good gracious, I'm truly going to starve this time. I swiftly ducked and pressed my back even tighter against the wooden wall. Well, I would admit it this time; I was kind of scared.
But still, my back detached―my eyes and head shifted slowly to peek over the wall.
How was I supposed to see in this darkness? Strangely, as long as there was a moon above, my eyes could make out many things. Everything was fairly clear at night, although not as much as during the day, of course.
The old couple claimed it was a sign that I was descended from the Tribals, implying that my blood came from the natives of the mountainous region.
'Whatever' it was, it sounded cool enough to me, for I had used that advantage many times before to avoid starving to death.
Yet, here I saw all these people who could see everything at night, illuminated only by the light of the moon, without any torches in hand. So, were they children of Tribals too? The thought made me feel a little giddy.
What was Tribal, anyway? What did these people want from this war-torn village, which wasn't even worth a glance?
"What do we do now? We already looking all over this place. How did that witch persuade the captain to search this place again? 'There is a breath left here, search!' That doesn't even make sense. It's not like there is magic just to conceal a breath in this 'remnant' land. Are we even in the movie or a drama, finding a prince or a princess in this rundown settlement? And what's with the horse? Are we even that poor, can't even afford an off-road car? What age do we even live in now? A medieval?"
The man on the right spoke incessantly, his voice laced with frustration. It was quite loud too, chattering like a music box with its own rhythm. When it came to the horse part, he stretched both of his hands forward, directing them towards the horse they had tied nearby.
The other man shot him a glance, irritation slowly etched itself across his features, the longer the guy talked.
He scowled, "If you want to complain, do not run it off my ear and turn down your voice," yet he suddenly paused. His gaze flickering toward the shadows where I hid, and it did, jolted my body slightly.
I quickly tried to avert my vision, which failed terribly, for my face and eyes felt stiffened from the surprise. The only thing I managed to do was to raise my trembling hands slowly, stack them on top of each other, and clasp them tightly in my mouth to stifle any sound.
"Besides, what's wrong with a horse? Do you even know how hefty the prices are in the city these days?" he continued.
The first man's agape in disbelief, picking over the clue of what he said.
"Really? So, it's true—you had a mission in the empire? Damn… you are crazy. I knew you had it in you! You know, one wrong move there and your head could be rolling, right?"
At the end of his words, he rolled his index finger right in front of the man's eyes, who swatted it away with his hand. He merely shrugged in response, a nonchalant gesture that belied the gravity of the actual situation.
"Then you'd best keep your mouth shut. This is a classified one."
The other man replied with a click of his tongue.
"Tch, why the hell do the higher-ups agree to take this on!? Hiding right under the territory of the empire. I heard they even managed to hold one of the escaped Hybrids to join their side. Don't tell me they believe that nonsense of a quote, about 'Hidden under the thumb is better than whatnot.' Wonder whose jerk is saying that. Too much. Too much risk here…"
"It's not only one," the latter replied. After a few moments pass, he shakes his head. "You remember the two Labs that were burned to the ground?"
"You mean?"
"Yes…"
Suddenly, a faint rumbling sound was heard in the silence of the night, breaking the conversation of the two who were just one wall away from me. Yes, it was me―my goddamn stomach who couldn't even read the atmosphere when it mattered, and it happened just when they were the closest.
My luck….
The air thickened with unspoken fears, and I held my breath, praying they wouldn't discover my presence. I slid down slowly to the floor, my back pressing on the cold wall. The darkness seemed to close in around me, a suffocating shroud that mirrored the dreary snake's coiling in my gut.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. The footsteps were getting further, and the pace that moved alongside my rapid heartbeat gradually faded. Finally, I exhaled, a sigh of relief escaping my lips as it seemed―once again, this time―I was safe.
"But I'm still hungry though," I whispered to myself, thinking that perishing from hunger might be a better way―a more comforting end rather than being beheaded by a sword. It looked gory and disgusting when I first saw those heads.
* * *
"Found you!!!"
"Ahhh…" I immediately screamed in horror.
It was the man with the loud mouth. His face showed up abruptly on the side of the broken walls, with part of his face hidden in the darkness, and the shimmer in his eyes for finding the source of the sound. I turned, trying to claw away―but my knees gave way before the run even began. For god's sake…
But his hand already found my shoulder, fingers curling around it with an iron grip. I struggled against the weight of my battered body, but it was futile. In that fleeting moment, my gaze caught a glimpse of what lay in the man's other hand―a syringe, glinting ominously as it quickly pierced the tender flesh of my neck. A sharp sting erupted, reminiscent of a fire ant's bite, searing through my whole senses.
Within moments, the world around me began to spin, colors swirling into a dizzying blur. Faintly, I heard a man's voice inquire, "How is it, Rick?" to which the reply came shortly, "Nice and clean."
Eventually, darkness enveloped me, fatigue gently caressing the back of my head, draining the last remnants of consciousness; by then, I had lost track of time.
When I finally awoke, I found myself sprawled on a stark white bed in a sterile room, draped in garments as pale as the walls that surrounded me. The air was thick with the weight of watchful eyes, a chorus of silent observers.
'Oh crap…' I thought to myself.
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