《The First Garden》Vol 2. Chapter 17.5
Advertisement
I woke up in a small house to the sound of a barking dog. I stepped out, and the sun blinded my eyes. Covering the rays with my arm, my eyes slowly adjusted to spot Kasumi in a small garden, watering the plants. Suddenly, she turned to me and I saw a solemn smile on her face as she walked up to me. But I could neither hear her footsteps or feel her warmth.
“This is a dream, isn’t it?” I whispered, and everything twisted into black nothingness. I floated across a black void. Why was I still alive? Even though I had truly died, again.
I wondered what I had done to deserve such a fate.
First my family had been taken. Then I watched as the cruel world twisted itself around it, showing me reality in the harshest ways possible. Forced to watch as I could nothing for I was absolutely powerless.
So I sold myself for power. The strength to change my fate, the strength to change the world. For years I fought for the sake of others, at the sake of my own humanity. A selfless notion born from selfish cowardice, I became a murderer. Sometimes in order to save lives you had to take them. And I believed in this with absolute confidence, after seeing all the things that humans were capable of.
And in the end I lost sight of what it meant to be human.
People called me a war hero. If only they could see the piles of bodies I left behind. How many children I had orphaned. By putting one man to the sword, I spared ten more. Fear was the way I changed things. The strongest and most powerful impulse of the human spirit after all, was fear.
The fear of death.
Something I had forgotten. As time passed my senses dulled. I didn’t train as hard and I didn’t strive to become more powerful. I would become as powerful as the world required me to be, and no more than that. People like me had no place during peacetime. And during peace there was no need for strength. So I told myself that I would bury my blade, and watch over this kingdom. To draw upon my sword if absolutely necessary, but otherwise never.
So it pained me when I woke up every night, remembering all the things I saw during war. All the blood and death, and I missed it. I missed fighting, because I no longer had a cause to serve.
Until Kasumi reached me. She was strange. Mischievous. Playful.
Broken.
Just like me.
Sometimes she greeted me with a wide smile, and sometimes she looked like she was in pain. I had never had someone treat me normally before. Someone that saw me and didn’t think about me as a soldier, but as a person.
Little by little, I learned bits and pieces about her.
I wish I could have known more.
And eventually I fell in love.
Advertisement
Something that I was never able to confess to her.
But history was cursed to repeat.
Asura was right. I was doomed to do this forever.
I had failed to protect her. I watched her die, because I was powerless.
I hadn’t changed since that night that I had killed my sister. I was incapable of doing anything. I could do nothing for the only person I cared for.
Because I thought that the world no longer needed me. I was victorious. My cause had won, and now there was peace.
And so I had allowed victory to defeat me. Make me weaker. Wear me down.
Once more, I desired power again.
And my mission became to watch those that had wronged me die the most excruciating deaths possible. To slowly break every bone in their body, to tear their flesh from bones, to drain them off blood and pour salt into their wounds until their lungs burned from the inside.
I would give up anything, not to live another life but to avenge my old one.
Anything.
Everything.
As long, as I could have revenge.
And so the Abyss heard me. But I didn’t know that it was the Abyss back then. I could feel myself falling into a part of the chasm that was older than the parts I had been to.
“How much are you willing to give up for power?”
I heard his voice at the back of my head. I couldn’t tell whether he was still there, but I heard him then. A reminder of my commitment to strength, because the only way to find justice in this world was to be powerful.
The only language that the world understood was violence.
I felt a surge of adrenaline and strength. I struggled, squirming where I was.
I refused to be trapped here.
Not by death. Not by Asura. And not, by fate.
Black matter tore through my skin, my arms and up my shoulders. All I could see was the blood being torn out of my veins but I couldn’t care less. None of this was real. And it didn’t mean anything if I couldn’t force myself back into the real world.
I was angry. Fueled with rage that I didn’t even know that I had.
I wanted to burn the world. I wanted to watch it turn into soot, and if I were to become lord of the ashes then so be it. I wouldn’t stop until everything in this world went into the ground, I wouldn’t stop until every kingdom turned into ruin. Every civilization unto extinction.
Until life became a scarcity, until the forests themselves collapsed and the ground shattered. Until the mountains whittled down into rocks, and the oceans dry out.
Because no life deserved to flourish in this world.
Deep down I had always known that within me was a great capacity for evil.
I had always fought against it.
But no more.
“You aren’t ready.”
It was Asura’s voice.
Advertisement
I didn’t care.
If the gods decided that I was to die, then I will disobey fate by living. I will break the cycle, even if I had to squirm like a centipede. Crawl like a cockroach. I will disobey the makers of this world and the fate they had chosen for me. And I will crush the heavens, and tear the lords from their thrones.
Sometimes the world doesn’t need another hero. Sometimes it just needs a monster.
I dived into the memories of the dark world that was the Abyss, and saw fragments of the past. How a star had fallen from the sky, crashing into where the city of Visereal would come to be. How the mana veins in the ground shook and turned black as the star died.
I saw how Asura fought armies of humans, slaughtering thousands upon thousands as he treaded alone across the land. How humans waged war against the demons, only to fall everytime, until the fated battle where all four heroes assembled.
I saw how Asura became imprisoned, trapped in the source of his own powers, the Abyss. How he was buried by humans, encased in a tomb of enchanted limestone, and even in his imprisonment, a part of the Abyss was open. Every hundred years, a small crack in the Abyss forced open, bleeding a single drop into the waking world. The pool that I had fallen into had been fused with the dark energy of the Abyss, the same pool that had given me my false immortality.
With furious intent I tore my way through the Abyss, And as I felt myself tearing back into life, I saw Asura. He was standing there, just watching. He was visibly shaken.
“I never would have imagined,” he spoke softly. “Even after traveling across the entirety of Elysium and the edges of the world, that the one thing I would come to fear would be a single human and his fury.”
My body twisted and turned into an amalgamation of torn sinew and flesh, and I could feel myself leaving death.
I had been banished from death. Forbidden from dying. The strings of fate had unlatched from my shoulders, and now I was free.
I finally emerged in the waking world. I felt myself re-appear, magic knitting my flesh and bones together. I bled into the world, tearing the walls between realms apart through sheer anger.
And I created myself in the waking world. I couldn’t see, but I could feel my hand dig into the dirt once more. I could feel the heat from the flames, and I could feel the coldness of the earth beneath my fingernails. Slowly, fingers grew into an arm and I could feel a hand once more. I kept going, until I grew a chest, and then a head. It took long, but I could see once more. Everything was black. The forest, the ground, my skin. I crawled across the dirt with a single arm, dragging myself along towards what remained of Kasumi. I tried to stand up on my stumps, raising my arm. It felt like the insides of my new body was tearing itself apart as I moved, but I didn’t care.
Her body had turned black from the flames, beyond recognition. But I could recognize her. I wouldn’t mistake her for anything else in the world. I held her remains in my arms, and for a moment I thought I saw her mouth move. But it was simply her body crumbling away and faded away into the night sky, just like mine had.
I stood there for a bit, watching as the rest of her body followed the wind. Her ashes flew with the wind, spreading across the distant lands where I would never see her again.
And it was empty inside once more. Even with everything I had done, all the sacrifices I had made, all the losses I had suffered, the world took from me once again.
And her death gave birth to a new monster.
My body began to grow faster and faster, creating a replica of my past self. Only now I was infected with the Abyss. My flesh turned into the color of the void, dark mana spiraling out of control. My veins burst open as magic burnt me from the inside out.
The boundaries between the waking world and the Abyss faded, and just for a moment, the darkness invaded. It rippled across the aether, and across the world the most powerful creatures could feel a change in the ecosystem.
Something had awoken, and torn apart the gates that led to the realm of the powerful and mighty. Something that had been erased from the annals of history.
As the world became aware of my ensuing return, everything human inside of me was left behind, and the only thing that remained was one thing.
A rage like no other.
Even as the abyss consumed me, and I gave in to the dark edges of the world, my rage remained. An anger so great that it rivaled the death of a thousand suns, the birth of a calamity.
My blood boiled and evaporated, releasing black smoke across the air. Eyes grew on the side of my face, traveling across the body until I could see all around me. My mind became blank as my vision focused only on the footprints I had to follow. The scent of blood and fire that they left behind. The sensation of their feet across the distance they had travelled. The feel of the Abyss as it rushed through my veins.
There was only silence as the ground twisted around me, mana terraforming the forest as the monster flew across the air, leaving behind a trial of rot and corruption as it chased after its prey.
Cursed with the disease that was life.
To seek revenge against the world.
Advertisement
Adaptive Morphosis : Dawn Break
When powers began appearing across Brazil, many hoped to be among those who awaken new abilities. Joseph was one of those who never saw his dream come true. Even as Brazil fell under the rule of a new dictatorship, Joseph remained focused on his obsession. He joined the Sleepwalkers, a group dedicated to awakening powers at any cost, and has conducted dangerous experiments on himself for years; but he was still no closer to his goal than ever before. After earning multiple degrees in biology and Power Studies, Joseph's life consisted solely of teaching at a high school, coaching students who awaken, discussing powers with the Sleepwalkers, and the experiments he ran in his personal lab.Then one of the other Sleepwalkers offered him his dream on a silver platter. There was no question about accepting it.The only question was . . . what will Joseph do with his power?Adaptive Metamorphosis: Dawn Break is an introspective tale that explores a world changed by powers, and is set in a future dystopian Brazil.Cover art by myself; winner of the Spring 2021 Writathon Challenge. [participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]
8 185Skyfire Magus
Lynne Hyorn, seventeen years old laziness-personified, manages to enter one of the four prestigious Academies for the Arts of Magic, Skyfire Academy for Magical Arts. However, unlike others, the reason he enrolled was not to pursue Magic, but rather because his father promised him hefty allowance if he manages to enter. His temporary tranquility soon comes to an end, though, as his father is drafted for war and his home is confiscated shortly after, leaving him to sleep on the streets. With no other choice, he decides to finally dedicate himself for the first time in his life, rising up from being just a lowly, Unranked Mage, to the ultimate guardian of the Academy: Skyfire Magus. A coming-of-age story set in a world of Magic follows young Lynne through the perils of strength, dedication, and world where fist isn't always the answer to every question. ~If you find any mistakes, please do comment on them or send me a message. Even though I proofread my chapters, mistakes stay from time to time.~ Glossary of terms (may include spoilers): https://freelanceronfire.wordpress.com/skyfire-glossary/ ~~COMPLETED~~
8 255School-life & Swordfights: A Clubs and Stubs Tale
Warning: Clubs and Stubs contains strong language and situations throughout that may not be suitable for younger readers. "This story takes place in a fantasy world with a modernish setting. It mainly follows four students of Hardires High School who are members of one of the greatest Team Arena Squads in the history of gladiatorial school athletics. Already two-time high-school world champions, they have entered their fourth and final year of high school in hopes of capturing a third straight world championship—something that no other school on the continent has accomplished. As they prepare for an upcoming match with a rival school, it becomes evident that keeping their two-and-a-half-year winning streak alive will be tougher than expected. As both personal and external problems abound for the student-gladiators, can they manage to keep it together under the constant pressure of being the perfect fighting unit? A blend of action, drama, adventure, and humor collide in this brand-new series!" Thanks so much for checking out my story! This is the first time that I've released any of my work to a public space so any feedback, be it positive or negative (but please be respectful if so) would be greatly appreciated. I'm hoping that this story is only the beginning of a long-running series of short stories set in the Clubs and Stubs universe. Temporary Book Cover Design by David Watson The release schedule is rather tentative, but the goal is to release a chapter every 2-4 days. I want to make sure that every scene is the best it can be before it’s released, so it may take a bit longer especially if it's a longer chapter. However, no chapter should take more than a week to be released. Each scene varies in length, but are usually between 1,000 to 2,000 words.
8 105Darkness Rising
Ciar, the Primordial Oblivion, has been banished to the mortal plane by his progenitor to atone for his sins. Having taken the place of a human baby, Ciar must learn to live in a fleshly body while masking his monstrous nature. At first, he believed this would be easy. However, he soon learns that emotions are complicated things, and his primal instincts may be harder to control than he first believed. ------------------------------ Ciar will be overpowered, though his power is justified No Harem will be present, as I hate harems
8 112mystery of love| reid x reader
when y/n, a college student, decides to take a profiling class taught by dr.spencer reid she notices that he's not like other people and that interests her. as soon and y/n walked into dr.spencer reid's class he knew there was something about her that he couldn't get off of his mind.
8 154Conquest Of Mortem
*NOTE* This novel is a war of attrition. To say anything less is a disservice to its demand. While comparable to other such works as Ulysses or Moby Dick, each sentence in Conquest is an enemy to be tackled. Not in the ways of difficulty but in absurd density that wishes nothing more than to destroy what patience you may have. Do not tackle chapters as you would ordinary chapters in an ordinary book. Tackle each chapter as a book unto itself. A foe to be vanquished, a period of life to leave behind. Seek to be master of this work. Seek to overcome. For in its design is the willpower, and the perseverance, and the strength of someone who sought meaning in struggle. As I discovered these in times of ultimate desperation, so I hope for you to discover these things. This novel is a love letter to your trials. May you overcome them. May you master them. May you become conquerer.- SeedSagaA literary epic for logophiles, philosophers, and poets alike. A journey into zeitgeist, the impact of media on culture, and the endurance of morality against an onslaught of hatred. These vague descriptions do little to compact Conquest's density into a bite-size summary. They do however relate the basest themes found within. A plot, if such can be surmised, is strung thinly across multiple perspectives, weaving together these concepts into a seemingly distorted tapestry of indecipherable events. Inspired by early 20th century modernism, Conquest will challenge the reader, and provide critique on the medium upon which all great stories are derived. Further interpretation is up to you now; an explorer among a sea of words. Venture on and discover what lies ahead, in...CONQUEST OF MORTEM
8 161