01 | Graymore

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The trees were tall, but I was taller. Standing above them on a steep mountain slope—near the town of Graymore. Moments before I had arrived here, it was cold—the snow-wreathed trees knew my pain.

My spark was weak in the cold, but it mattered not as there was a reason I was making my already pale skin paler in the snowy regions—in the winter on top of that.

Hours before, I had been in my house taking rest after the days of my separation. I sighed, a puff of snow-white breath coiling out of my mouth.

Ruffling through my pocket, I pulled out a piece of Dor—the worst kind—and crunched it under my teeth, consuming the euphoric, warm liquid filled with flakes ashine. Haah, this taste never gets old, does it?

Sighing in bliss like a drug addict before holding my breath, I jumped off the slope, and pushed through the frosty wind like a knife through a watermelon, without an ounce of pain or discomfort.

By the point I reached ten feet above the ground, I took a deep breath, and the Dor burned. My eyes shone in a fiery red color before I exploded into a raging fire.

My vision shifted to 360 degrees.

I loomed over the snow-cloaked ground, traveling through the snow-hooded trees, cautiously so as to not burn them.

Reaching the entrance to the town—if you could even call it that—I breathed out. Seeing the smoke coiling out of my mouth, I couldn't help but hold my (figurative) heart—wasting the steam always left a bad taste in my mouth.

My body morphed back to my humanoid form, my vision turning back to the limited version of humans.

"I wasted a lot of steam, didn't I?" I sighed, noticing that my spark consumed Dor like It was eating something after month-long starvation—but, more than that, my breathing technique sucked, which resulted in the wastage of valuable steam.

Shifting my attention from my overly excessive—and terrible—use of Dor, I gazed at the town's entrance. The arch of an entrance was broken, in ruins and shambles.

Unsurprisingly, it was empty.

The wooden thatched houses near the town's edge—usually for the poor—seemed devoid of life; so did the barren street.

My gaze couldn't help but linger on the broken houses; I almost felt bad.

The life of the poor was already difficult enough, adding to that how f*cked up this world was, the poor's life was barely livable—but that's the charm of 'life', you live it until you can't or don't want to. Simple.

The wind howled, adding the finishing touches to the solitude of Graymore.

Treading forth with caution, I peered from the muddy track to the broken houses, then onto the destroyed cottages.

The damp air and the eerie silence whispered that something was amiss. No matter how small, a town was never this silent.

And on top of that, there wasn't a single technologically advanced vehicle in sight, which was strange on its own.

As a disgusting odor like burnt butter—or probably a decomposing corpse—wafted into my nose, I halted; my face scrunching.

What the f*ck is this smell?

I questioned inwardly, frowning while I covered my face with a black mask—especially made by a very capable dwarf (or so I'd been told) for my super-secret identity—which was embroidered with small dragon scale-like markings.

I increased my pace; the eerie silence was getting on my nerves. My twitching left hand was scared. It had suffered enough because of my fluctuating emotions, the 'uniqueness' of my spark—which I definitely didn't like—was unpleasant, extremely painful even.

My emotions were a bit out of control, and as I felt blood seep out of the pores of my left arm, I concluded that I had f*cked up.

Dammit! I shouldn't have consumed Dor this early!

Calming myself to no avail, I sat down, trying the breathing technique Kal—that cat-loving dragon—had taught me, promising that it would work.

"Blue cat, red cat, orange cat, green cat."—feeling the pain increase, I hastened the chant—"cats are awesome, cats are cool, cats are badass, cats are kings, cats are novel protagonists, cats are the absolute best, cats are the absolute apex of the world. Yes, as expected, cats should rule the world, no, cats should be the rulers of the universe."

As I felt the pain fade away, I rejoiced.

Yes! The super-secret calm-your-nerves cat technique was working!

As of today, cats are my favorite animals!

Though the happiness was not long-lived as a disgusting, raven-black figure emerged from behind a broken house, startling the ever-living sh*t out of me.

"KHrrr" the zombie-like black monstrosity was coated in a layer of snow, which fell behind as it lunged at me and I felt my heart jump out of my chest.

My eyes widened, and I barely managed to hold my breath.

But as I felt the familiar sensation of Dor's burning, which was akin to what you'd feel in your chest at the end of a deep breath, there was but one thought in my mind.

F*ck.

With a painful spurt, my left arm burst from inside, berry-red blood splattering all over me and the ground, coating the white snow in a carpet of red.

I clenched my teeth, munching a piece of Dor with my left hand.

This f*cking hellacious creature!

Cursing under my breath, I raised my right hand.

Dor ablaze, my hand flashed magma-red for a second. Then with a thundering boom, it exploded, hurtling towards the zombie.

As the fire along with the remnants of my arm hit the zombie, it burst into black goo-like blood and spaghetti-like intestines, which splattered all over—some on my face—the track, dying the bone-white snowy ground in black.

"F*ck you!" I spat and stood up, my right hand dangling like a limp penis and my left arm . . . well, it was not even there anymore.

My Dor reserves were also morsel.

Shuffling through my pocket with my remaining arm, which was painful but doable, I realized that I had only but a few pieces left (and they were of the lowest quality, except some).

I should've brought better quality.

Dammit! Why do I have to act like a scrimp? My habits are gonna get me killed!

Haah, I hate this.

Stumbling towards the nearest thatched house, I head-butted the door as my hands were out of commission.

Not getting a satisfactory response, my breathing 'hitched' as I head-butted the door again.

"Hello! Is anybody there??" my voice was trembling.

Getting no response, I asked again though in a low voice.

"Um, hello?" my voice was soft, and lacked the energy it usually had; even a normal person could tell that the blood loss was getting to my head.

Seeing the shadow of a person beneath the door, I smirked just for a moment then went back to my 'near-death', constipated-like expression.

"I can see your shadow from below. Please open the door or I'm gonna die!" I called out 'desperately'.

"Leave! I can't help you!" the voice alone told me a lot about the woman on the other side. She was an elderly person and an asshole to top it off.

Great. Just great.

Coughing for a while, I crashed down on the ground, though I didn't forget to hit the door with my head.

"Please o-open th-the door . . . " I said, my voice shaking due to the cold. Then I dropped to the ground, seemingly unconscious.

***

My eyes fluttered open.

I was inside her house successfully.

I peeked around, it wasn't anything special.

A dining table, four chairs, and a place to sit beside the hearth. I was lying on a cloth near the hearth.

I was hot and I liked it. Pun totally intended.

Slightly beside the hearth, was a painting of four, an old couple and a young couple.

Hmmm, a family of four, Eh?

Noticing my restricted movement, I couldn't help but frown. I was encased in bandages akin to a mummy—seriously? I wasn't even that injured. Is the hag bat sh*t crazy?

Staring around, my gaze halted on the old woman's wrinkled face.

"!!!"

Holy mother of . . .

I almost jumped, t-this woman! This hateful, disrespectful, wrinkly-and-toothless old hag!

Raising my shaky right hand—as the other was completely blasted, only a bud at the shoulder—I pointed at her face.

"Y-you???"

I staggered…

I abso—f*cking—lutely remember her!

She was the one who had spanked the ever-living sh*t out of my private off-limits booty when I'd been just born!

Before I could speak anything, the old hag said frostily.

"Get out of my house when you have the strength to walk. I don't want anyone near my house."

You f*cking b*ch! HOW DARE YOU! The sin you had committed cannot be forgiven!

No one, and I mean NO ONE spanks my booty!

Even if you had spanked no one but a newly born child!

"You booty wrecker, how dare you forget me?" I said, my voice as chilly as the arctic wind.

The old hag's eyebrows furrowed, scrunching her already ugly face beyond belief as my eyes couldn't help but twitch at the reminder of my first day in Titan.

"Who are you?" she asked, confusion evident on her face, and voice.

"Someone whose booty you smacked when he was born." I commented as the thick skin I had built over the years came into play.

Her face turned chilly.

"Boy"—she said, raising her hand—"these hands have turned wrinkly throughout my booty-spanking newborn-kids' job. And let me tell you"—she raised four fingers—" I lost count after the booties hit the four digits." She said as if she had done a deed to be proud of . . .

Maybe it was; I mean, helping in the birth of kids was a feat to be proud of as even the most cold-hearted person might not be able to hold his sh*t together after hearing the wails of a woman in labor (probably, I'm not too sure myself, heh~). And she claimed that she had stopped counting after it hit the four-digit mark: it needed guts.

BUT!

That did NOT give her permission to defile a defenseless butt cheek!

Haah.

Sighing after ranting inwardly for a few minutes, I returned to the serious business.

"Listen, old bones." I raised my penis-limp hand and continued, "let's get to business. I need you to tell me everything you know about the missing people."

Then, as I pointed outside, I said, "and what the f*ck was that disgusting thing that cost me a f*cking arm!" I lamented.

Her expression changed drastically, though she hid it instantly, I had enough experience in the experiencing-shit experiences, that I noticed her fear, anguish, sorrow, and desperation.

She knows something . . .

I concluded.

Her eyes darting here and there she answered, "I don't know anything! That was a beast you saw out there—"

At the mention of beasts, my eyes flared in anger, but I suppressed it.

It was not time. I had promised 'her' that I wouldn't let revenge cloud my judgment, emotions, or life. And I was going to adhere to that promise as long as I could.

That is if shit didn't hit the fan.

"Don't," I said, my voice bleak.

"I've been through enough in my life to tell that definitely wasn't a beast, so, tell me what you know." I threatened, mildly.

She gulped visibly.

Why wouldn't she?

I was a Pyromancer whereas she was but just a human.

The difference was huge. And she knew that well. From how she talked, she'd seen me fight the zombie-like monstrosity.

Even though one of my arms was penis limp and the other was nothing but a flowering bud, I was still strong enough to wipe out her existence with just but a swipe of my hands. And she knew it well, She had years of experience in this world over me.

Sighing, she opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Instead, her eyes peered around the room.

"No one is here, trust me." I reassured her, "no one is going to hurt you, not even me. Just tell me everything you know."

Though I'd kill you without even an ounce of regret if need be.

I wasn't a mindless killer, and I definitely abhorred murdering an innocent, but I'd kill when the need arose.

I wasn't new to the sensation, after all.

Finally having gathered the courage to speak, she started.

"T-two months ago, one of my neighbors went inside the forest to cut some wood," she explained.

"We—the inhabitants of Graymore live by selling coal and wood, we are quite poor so we don't have the luxury of technology on our side. And even though this town should hold enough value In the eyes of the nobles, we've been cast aside."

"Anyway, The one who went into the forest that day was a young man around twenty-five, his name is Davis. He was a good person."—her eyes lacing with pity, she continued—"He never came outside. After that day, people started disappearing more often, and slowly, the town folk stopped going in the forest, in fear of disappearing only God knows where."

She stopped, gathering her thoughts.

"It was fine the first few days, but th-then, then those . . . 'things' raided our town." Her hand trembled.

"Th-they killed some of us. And kidnapped others." Her eyes watered. "And a week ago my son Callahan and daughter-in-law Sofia were captured as well." Tears streamed down her wrinkly old face like water overflowing a glass as she sat there, sobbing.

As for me, I was just sitting silently, fidgeting uncomfortably on my place.

This wasn't something new, people die every day here in Shun. To be completely honest, I didn't care anymore.

I had wept enough . . . 'that' day, that I refuse to let even a tear come out—of course, uncle Alaric's training excluded.

Shuddering at the mere thought, I tore my attention away from the disturbing memory lane, especially since mine was a bit too picture-perfect, in some disturbing aspects, that is. Other than that, I forgot a lot.

My mind was sh*t in remembering stuff.

"After that, some left the town and the ones remaining behind didn't dare to leave their cottages in hopes of not being found by 'them'." She continued, hoarsely.

"It's enough."

"Can you take me where that Davis went, though? If you know where he went that is." I asked, stopping when I noticed her horror-scrunched face.

My pupils constricted and my brows furrowed.

She went there . . .

I concluded.

She probably went there in search of her son and daughter-in-law.

Having no choice, I pressed further.

"What are you hiding, tell me, I'm just here to help . . . " I was interrupted by her again.

"NO! I don't know anything else!" she snapped.

"Please," She begged. "Just leave, I have already risked enough for even letting you inside my house. Only God knows when 'they' will come again and hunt me down as well!" she pleaded and beckoned me to get out.

Well . . . that was anticlimactic.

Standing up limply, as if exhausted, I put on my best tired expression, my pale white visage was a plus.

"Then . . . I thank you for taking care of me, and helping me come into this world as well. But can you at least point out the direction where Davis went?" Her guilty expression indicated that my acting had worked like a charm.

Yes!

The old hag escorted me out—at least she had manners—and pointed north.

After thanking her, I staggered away towards the north.

As I concluded that I was deep in the forest and no one was near me, I stopped staggering.

I tore open all the bandages the old hag had enveloped me in like a mummy and walked forth nonchalantly.

I took a deep breath, Decocting a piece of Dor I'd gulped, My bud-like left arm healed at a speed visible to the human eyes and my right hand healed as well.

There was nothing left but the smoke emanated from the healing.

Pyromancy could truly do wonders.

As I walked, my face lost all its expression. With nothing but caution written on my face, I trotted deeper into the lush dark-brown forest.

'Done with the dramatics and pointless acting?' Doryu chimed in, sending an image of his snout wrinkling in disgust.

I stumbled.

"Dude," I sighed my steam.

(A/N: sorry to interrupt but I need to clarify something. The 'steam' mentioned above is different from the steam you know. Think of it as the source of power for now, and burning Dor provides that source.)

"I was happy when you didn't talk for hours, I thought that you'd kicked the bucket." I sighed regretfully, "But nah, you're fine."

'SHUT UP!' he roared, a misty feline white smoky snout puffing out of my body.

"I was there, writhing in pain! And you're here acting like nothing happened? You didn't even notice that I was waiting for you to apologize!" he wined.

I halted."did something happen to you?"

why didn't I notice? If anything had happened to him, I should have been the first to notice.

Tears made out of smoke streamed down Doryu's saddened snout as he bellowed in despair.

"The stock of my favorite strawberry pie has run out! It's your fault! You didn't pack enough!"—he looked at me with big puppy eyes—"can I have a bit of your share?"

The cool image I had built crumbled apart as my eyebrows and mouth twitched uncontrollably.

Finally not being able to take it anymore, I bellowed.

"FUCK OFF! NO ONE TOUCHES MY STRAWBERRY PIES!"

No one, and I mean no one, IS allowed to even touch my strawberry pies!

***

Walking inside the rugged forest, I was a bit apprehensive.

The forest was strangely quiet: not a single sound—except the occasional wind.

I scuttled through the forest, twisting around the trees in my path and avoiding getting my feet caught in the overgrown vines of the trees.

They weren't normal trees, after all.

I stopped as I spotted a good deal of half-cut trees.

The logs were lying interspersed between the scattered bark and ragged brown-crunchy leaves.

The foliage scraunched under my feet, emanating an eerie sound. My head spun, and everything turned blurry.

The muscles around my torso tightened, my breathing hitched, and my pupils constricted before losing their luster.

Suddenly, manic laughter wafted in my ears as if I was deep inside the ocean.

Then the laughter broke through the deep ocean-like barrier and assaulted my eardrums, morphing into the cries of children.

I waited for it to go away, but the head-piercing voices only grew.

I waddled forth just for a quarter of a second before slumping to my feet, clenching my head as if I wanted to tear it apart.

There were just . . . too many noises ringing inside my head, and too many visions lashing out in my vision.

The face of a magma-red bird-like shape passed through my eyes . . .

My breath halted.

Ash . . .

I knew her.

The vision continued: cries, countless screeches, intestines, charred corpses, blood, and . . . fire.

A boy, a lake, then a familiar tree—it was my favorite spot in Rand, the town near Aegis, I used to live there.

I hit the ground until my hands bled.

I gnashed my teeth, the pain was . . . unbearable.

Then everything came crashing down. The vision continued, my entire family being dead. Blood dripping down their corpses. My mom being eaten alive. dad dying while protecting me. Leia's falling figure as something pierced her heart. Caleb being burned alive. Lena—my niece—and Nora—my daughter—being devoured by a beast. Eva—my fiance—being sliced into shreds.

Then everything went quite like it never existed. The voices, the visions, and everything else.

"—an!" a muffled bark echoed, snapping me out of it.

"Aidan!" Doryu smacked my face, and I felt the blazing pain.

"Damn! That was nasty!" Doryu—who was outside my body, in his feline-like leopard form—spat angrily.

I peered around in confusion. Only hearing a high-pitched ringing sound.

What happened? What was that?

"Come out of it. something just f*cked your mind up and you're still having the leisure to get confused!" Doryu growled, hitting my head.

F*ck!

"Stop it!" I snapped.

"I saw som—" I felt the ground beneath my feet jitter.

Bolting up, my eyes darted around as my right hand clutched the remaining pieces of Dor tightly. I was ready to flare at any moment.

Then it went quiet.

"What the f*-ck was that- " Doryu halted, the ground cracking beneath us.

Everything trembled.

I didn't give a crap and turned around, running full throttle.

Whatever was causing the earthquake-ish tremble, I wasn't too keen on finding out.

But alas, it was meant to be. I didn't have the shining golden armor like in the novels.

The ground beneath sneaked away, hiding below in the depths of darkness with a thundering, and terrifying boom.

We, of course, followed the ground—f*cking gravity.

The last thing I remember was kissing the ground and staring at the blazing white light illuminating my face before I drifted into the dream world.

**

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