“Esterian, help me with the laundry. Can you come down here please? You’ve been holed up in your room ever since you got back from town. What happened?” Mirram called from the backyard. She paused to tie back her hair and went back to hanging clothes to dry. It was sunny out. The morning was warm. Mirram could hear the faint sounds of a bird singing. The smell of wild flowers hung in the air, teasing her with its subtlety. She stretched another shirt on the clothesline. Looked over at the house. There was no answer. No sound of feet coming down the stairs. She sighed. Something had happened in town.

She remembered Esterian’s face from when he had come home. Drawn, ashen, brows furrowed in thought. She had asked him what had happened, but he had just gone up to his room. The only times after that she saw him was at meal times, that too for a few minutes. Anytime she brought the trip to town up, his face would immediately darken and he would just get up and leave. Mirram had surrendered herself to waiting for Esterian to come forward on his own terms.

Esterian heard his mother call. She had called him every hour for the past four days, trying to get him to come down out of his room and feel the Sun, or help with the laundry, or clear the garden of weeds. He hadn’t answered her. He rolled onto his side. His mattress was soft but his sheets were crumpled. They lay in a messy ball off to one side. His pillow was had a head shaped burrow in it. Four days he had lain there, staring at the ceiling. He would run his fingers over his chest, trying to feel the wounds that should have been there. He could see them, or rather how they should have been.

Deep red with blood flowing from them. He felt like he could feel the bullet passing through his body and out of his back. He could see himself fall, rivulets of blood blossoming on his shirt. For some reason, he fell in slow motion. His hair flapping in the breeze. He fell onto one knee, hand clutching his chest. He looks down at his hands. They are stained red with his blood. He dimly looks up at the man who did this to him. The gaunt face of the grocer is there, one of his hands bandaged in white, obviously broken. The other holding a black object whose tip is smoking. Esterian can see his vision going black, as he falls on his front. He looks down from above at his lifeless body as his blood pools beneath him. That, was what should have happened. Instead he lay in bed, not a scratch on him. Instead of devastating impacts that tore through him, all he had felt were the faintest of pokes, a soft caress on his skin where the bullets should have landed. He could hear the clink they made as they fell to the ground abnormally amplified.

He rolled back onto his back. He had tried calling out to the blade within him, but it wasn’t answering him. All he had in his mind was a black pit. He searched again, looking deep within himself. Faint memories flitted across his mind. Random thoughts, combining together to generate new, even randomer thoughts. He looked around himself. Everywhere he looked, it was dark and empty but at the same time alive and vibrant. The darkness of his mind vibrated, it moved towards him, and he could see himself, his mother, even the Shadow. They came together. As he watched, he saw what must have happened the day his father was killed. The Shadow stealthily creeps behind his father. His father turns around, only to look into the red slit eyes that burn in the dark night. He scrambles for the black gun that rests at his waist. He falls back as he fires it, the crack it makes oddly muted as Esterian watches but the sound as the bullet harmlessly hits the floor drowns out his mother’s hysterical screams. A flash of red as his neck is severed. A scream as his mother walks into the room. His mother rushes out to check on him and make sure he’s okay. He sees himself being lifted to her chest. He starts crying, furious at being awoken from sleep. Mirram rushes back to where his father had been killed. A trail of blood that vanishes at the window. He sees Mirram collapse to her knees before she too starts crying.

Esterian snapped his eyes open. His imagination was getting more and more vivid. He could almost smell blood. He sat up. Almost time for lunch. He got up and washed his face. He walked down the stairs. The front door was still open, Mirram was still outside hanging up the laundry. Esterian walked out to join her.

“Ah. Finally. I thought I’d have to roll you out of bed!” Mirram laughed as she pulled her son into an embrace.

“I’m almost done here. I’ll fix you something to eat after. Give me a hand, will you?” She nodded her head at the basket of clothes still waiting to be hung up.

“Of course.” Esterian walked over to the basket and pulled out a shirt. He paused. It was the shirt he was wearing that day in town. Almost immediately he felt the phantom impacts of bullets, the imagined pain as they rip through his body. With a cry he threw it back in the basket. Almost immediately he felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder.

“What’s the matter, my Este? Aren’t you feeling well?” her voice filled with concern as she looked at him.

Esterian pulled away. He shook his head and said,

“It’s.. It’s nothing. I’m sorry mom, but I think I want to go inside.” He turned and walked inside without waiting for an answer.

Mirram watched her son walk into the house, head bowed, something obviously eating him up from within. She followed him in. Made her way to the kitchen. The tomatoes and other vegetables for lunch had already been picked and cleaned. She picked up her knife and started slicing them. She heard a faint noise behind her as Esterian sat down in one of the stools in the kitchen. He was looking off into the distance, his eyes unfocused, his mind somewhere far away. She wondered why his hands were tracing small circles in his chest.

“So, tell me. What’s wrong, Este?” Mirram sat down opposite Esterian, her resolution to let him come to her breaking down.

Esterian felt a fury rise within him. How could she possibly help. He gritted his teeth together, his free fist clenching beneath the table. With a grating voice, he said,

“I told you, I’m FINE.” The last part was loud. Mirram leaned back as she felt the force behind her son’s words. But he was all she had. She had to get to the bottom of it.

“I know you’re lying, Este. Tell me what happened. Please.” She reached forward and put a hand on her sons arm.

Esterian looked down at his mother’s arm. His vision was turning red. He started to breathe heavily. He was fast losing the battle to keep his temper in check. He looked up at his mother’s face. The worry lines clashing horribly with the thin smile she wore. A smile that was an attempt at winning his heart, only served to anger him further. With a savage cry he pulled his arm free and swiped the plate with his lunch on it to the ground. The plate shattered as it hit the floor. Esterian jumped to his feet. His vision clouded red. He was breathing through his mouth. Unable to think or hear, he shouted,

“FOR THE LAST TIME. I AM FINE. LEAVE ME ALONE.” He turned his back on her and stormed away.

Mirram was sitting exactly where she had been, too shocked by her son’s outburst to move. She felt her throat tighten and her nose tingle. She felt tears well up in her eyes and tasted salt as they rolled down her cheeks and into her mouth. She heard the front door slam. Esterian had left the house. She only hoped he would be back before dark. She sniffed once and knelt down to clean the floor. She heard the kitchen door open. Odd, she thought. Esterian had just left. She looked up, and saw a metal boot fast approach her face. She cried out once as the world turned black.

Esterian felt his anger subside as soon as he left the kitchen. He felt remorse over come him. His mother had always been there for him, taking care of him since he could remember, and he was treating her like this. He had to make up for it. He still hadn’t given her the bracelet he had bought in town. He had wanted to surprise her for her birthday. Afraid she might find it in his room, he had hidden it behind one of the pots in the backyard, a place where he knew his mother wouldn’t find it. He hurried out the back door and to the bracelets hiding spot. He pulled the bracelet out and wiped it on his pants. There was still some dirt caught up in the mechanism. He would wash it first and give it to her. He had just stood up when he heard a sharp cry from the kitchen. He thrust the bracelet deep into his pocket and walked back indoors. He stepped into the main room. The kitchen door was on the right. It was closed. So were the other two doors. The front door, and the door to his mother’s bedroom. The stairs snaked up the wall to Esterian’s left. He stepped forward slowly.

“Mom? Are you okay? MOM?” he called out, his heart beating faster every second she didn’t answer. Suddenly he was aware of footsteps in the house. The doors burst open at once and men in white uniforms walked in. Esterian looked to the kitchen door. Behind the first two men were two more, and between them, hanging limp was his mother. Instantly the blade took over him. He felt the power flow through him. A quick step and he was behind the men guarding his mother. He pulled back his hand to deliver a massive blow, much stronger than the one that had felled the man back in that alley in town. He wanted to hurt these people. He threw his fist forward, the blade making it both unnaturally strong and unnaturally fast. The blow would tear the man’s head off.

Esterian felt his body jerk forward as the blow missed. He was dimly aware of the man grinning as he dodged, he felt a shattering blow in his ribs as the man’s elbow crashed into them as Esterian rushed past, pulled by the momentum of his own blow. The blade left him and he sprawled in a heap on the floor, gasping and coughing up blood. His side hurt badly. He felt the white clothed soldiers come closer. They formed a ring around him, their faces openly mocking as they looked down at the boy collapsed on the floor. A gap formed as they pushed his still unconscious mother into the centre of the ring as well. Esterian felt a stab of fury as he saw her manhandled, but an even sharper stab of pain from his side made him wince and cough.

“So this is what we came out here for? This child couldn’t beat one of my most junior soldiers. Surely this isn’t the person I came to capture?” Said a cold voice from the doorway. Esterian looked up, but winced as bright sunlight glinted off golden armor. Esterian spat out some more blood. Looked back at the man who had spoken.

He was a giant. His massive frame filled the doorway. His hard face was filled with suppressed rage. At his waist hung a brilliantly white blade, one that seemed forged from light itself. Esterian was taken aback as he saw the beautiful white wings that lay folded on the man’s back. The man bowed his head to fit into the doorway. Esterian felt another jolt of surprise as he recognized the dark man he had been talking to. The same man who had been watching him back in Mycal’s inn. Surely this wouldn’t be about that small incident.

Nevadrian looked at the covering scout. He had been less than impressed with the man. He lacked the soul of a warrior, preferring to hide in the shadows or cower in submission when stronger men than him addressed him. He bit back his urge to kill the man outright. The Holy One had been very insistent about that point. For some reason he had wanted both the boy and the scout alive.

Nevadrian looked over at the boy. He was huddled over his mother’s body, trying to wake her up. He felt bile rise in his throat as he drank in the pathetic scene. He walked over to the men ringing the boy. A gap opened up so that he could pass.

Esterian felt his mother’s neck. He could detect a faint fluttering pulse. She was breathing, but raggedly. From here he could see that her nose was broken. Blood poured from her nostrils. Her mouth was open and sucking in air. He shook her once, calling out her name. No response. Before he could try again, he felt the ring of men break. Esterian looked over and saw the massive frame of the golden man. From so near, he realized that massive had been an understatement. He felt arms pull him away from his mother and push him onto his knees. A blow to his waist made the pain in his side burn white hot for an instant as he doubled over. When he looked back up, the Golden man was bending down at him, his face a play of barely concealed emotions.

“Are you Esterian?” The man’s voice was deep. It rumbled and shook the air as he spoke.

“Yes. Who are you? What do you want?” He said, doubling over again as he felt the giant’s fist in his chest. It had happened before Esterian could even see it. The air rushed out of him and he sprawled on the floor. Almost instantly, the strong arms were back and they pulled him back to his knees. One of them held onto his hair preventing him from looking anywhere but up into the golden giant’s face.

“I believe I am the one asking the questions here. My scout reports that a few days ago, in town you stopped bullets that were shot at you. Is this true?”

Esterian felt fear rise inside him. Instinctively he felt the bullets rip through him, the phantom pain somehow made real by the pain in his side. He was aware of the man, the look on his face as the bullets had dropped harmlessly to the ground. He had looked like he had seen a ghost. How had the scout seen him though? Esterian thought of lying, but there would be no point. They would either beat it out of him or his mother. Esterian swallowed down the blood in his mouth and said,

“Yes. That was me.” He had wanted to ask ‘What’s it to you?’ but the memory of them mans invisibly fast fist was too fresh in his mind for him to want to chance it.

“Are you sure? Because by what I see, you don’t seem to be very powerful at all.” The man’s face split into a grin. The men encircling him broke into mocking laughter. Esterian looked deep inside him, desperate for the blade to come to his aid. He found empty silence.

“Maybe you need some incentive to prove yourself? So be it.” The golden man rose to his full height. He stepped over to Mirram who was just coming to. Esterian struggled against the arms holding him back, but it was useless. Mirram cried out once as the golden man lifted her by the neck and held her up to his face. Her feet hung a good ways off the ground. They beat frantically as Mirram desperately tried to break free.

Esterian struggled again. He forced the blade into his fists, but instantly he felt something flow into him from the man holding him back. A stream, something liquid, something intangible. He felt as if he were drinking, but even as he drank his fill, the liquid was being forced into him. He felt his body strain to hold so much in. He felt like he would explode. With a final thrust of concentration he frantically released the blade, relief washing over him as the flow of liquid stopped.

“Ah. So the boy does have some power after all. Not much, but not bad. Any last words before I break your mother’s neck?”

Esterian cried out as he struggled against his captors hands. His mother turned her head to face him. He could see the effort it took her. The skin on her neck grew taut as she pulled against the vice-like grip of the giant’s fist. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She mouthed ‘I love you, my Este’ then the light left her eyes as the giants fist clamped tighter. He turned to Esterian, a grin on his face as he threw Mirram’s lifeless body aside.

“Now… You are coming with me.”

Esterian. Esterian. I will lend you my strength. Do not begrudge me for not aiding you sooner. For you to become who you were meant to be, this had to happen. Wield me now, and we shall slay the ones who killed our Mother. Wield me Esterian! And together we shall strike down our foes.

The blade roared in Esterian’s head. He felt a massive barrier open in his mind. He grasped the hilt of the blade. He felt the thrill of power he hadn’t since his thirteenth birthday. It was intoxicating. He laughed to himself. Nevadrian looked over at the boy, his expression turning to surprise as he felt the power radiate from him.

Esterian felt the blade permeate his entire being. He had never felt this much power. He felt the man holding him down pour the liquid into him. This time though, his thirst was unquenchable. The flow was a tiny trickle into a gaping abyss. Esterian leapt to his feet, effortlessly throwing the man off. The white clothed men who encircled him all stepped back as they saw Esterian rise. They took another step back as they saw the black nimbus that enveloped the boy. Nevadrian drew his blade. The dark man screamed and ran outside.

Esterian’s feet moved impossibly fast as he darted behind the white clothed men. This time his massive blows connected. He drove his powerful fists in to the men from behind, hitting skulls and spines alike, feeling crunches as bones broke. He moved at lightning speed, downing another before the first had even hit the ground. They were powerless to stop him. Like marionettes with their strings cut, they collapsed to the floor.

Nevadrian watched the boy tear through the ranks of his men. He was taken aback by the power and force behind the boys blows. What would the boy be capable of once he got his sword he wondered. Nevadrian looked down at his own gleaming white blade. He felt the flow from him to it. He grinned as he looked at Esterian finish off the last of his troops. He would have a true duel for the first time in years.

Esterian dropped the last of the men. He was panting slightly. The pain in his side suddenly reappeared. He was aware of how heavy his limbs felt. It was all he could do to lift his hands to wipe the blood from his face. He looked down at his hands. They were shaking slightly. His knuckles looked raw. The blade was still there in his mind, enticing him with the power he would have once he took a hold of it again. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of laughing.

“Guess I was wrong about you after all, boy. This will be very interesting.” The giant chuckled to himself.

Esterian reached for the blade again.

We cannot face this opponent and hope to survive. We must flee. The voice resounded in his head.

Flee? I will not Flee. I will avenge my mother! He shouted back.

We will avenge our Mother. Just not this day. We must leave now.

Esterian tied to protest with the voice in his head but there was no use. It was silent again. He turned back to face the Giant in front of him. He was licking his lips in anticipation of a duel.

“Sorry. But not today.” Esterian called out as he turned around. He was aware of the man flaring his wings and flapping them. He was aware of the cry that came from his mouth as the giant raced forward, blinded by fury. He was aware of the silver bracelet in his pocket that had been meant for his mother. He took a final glance at his mother’s body before the world turned black. He felt a tug like someone was pulling him forward through the darkness. After a few moments, the world lit up again, and he crashed into the ground. He lay there unable to move as exhaustion claimed him. He tried to stand, but collapsed and fell into sleep.