"Uldyssian, will mama and dad be healthy again?" Little Mendeln asked with tears in his shiny black eyes. The big son of Diomede was struck by pain and hopelessness. He wished he could scream, cry, ask the gods for redemption, set the things right in some way.
But he was just a simple farmer, an evanescent human beeing who will be consumed by life and pain, living in misery while the great of the priests and religious clerics will drown in wealth, gold. Sing about how good and pure are their souls, indoctrinating the fools and the weak hearted who will be able to kill in the name of gods.
The realization was a curse and a salvation, he came to the point when his heavy eyes, by tears, were fully opened and he could see through glory and empty words.
For Uldyssian the believing in a religion was like drowning in some cold and dark waters, what bring you to nothing but blindness.
"I hope so." He said with disappointment in his heavy voice, lowering his look. Uldyssian was struck by this painfull reality that surrounded him, it's intensity stabbed him in the heart, poisoning his mind with wicked thoughts, making him a vesel of hate.
Suddenly, he was woken up from his thaughts by his mother who was drowning with her own blood. Mendeln started to cry in helplessness, the farmer rushed to her and gently stroke her back while she was vomiting blood with some parts of her bodies-the farmer suspected. When she was finished, Uldyssian took the blanket that covered her body and placed another new to replace it.
When he returned into the room, he realized the air was pounderous, stinky and putrid.
A rat crossed his path and svoided in one of it's holes from the wall. He heard Mendeln crying and he saw his mother staying motionless in the bed. She had her eyes opened, directed to the window, she seemed freed.
Uldyssian could not resist the pain, hundreds of feelings of a huge amount of intensity and power struck his very beeing. Now he acted from his instinct, he ran outside and started to run like a mad man. He screamed about his mother who was dead, deep inside his disturbes soul, he wished somebody will come and put a calming hand on his shoulder, embrace him and tell him everything will be all right. But no one did.
He stood in the middle of a yellow landscape, touched by the sickness of autumn. He watched over the glassy, cold sky and screamed "My mother died, somebody help me!" Misery and helplessness were the only feelings the son of farmer felt from their parents deaths. It was a huge stab in the back given to him by the cruel fate.
He lived in a world were the gods were made just to make someone rich and someone poor.
The gods were not real! He repetitive said to himself.
If they was they would have miraculously healed his family, and all people who were in pain and agony, like in every story that is shared with a malevolent grin of a face by the clerics of the religions from the world.
The gods were created just to keep humans poor and fool, just to give false hopes in a world of pain were the winners are those who destroy without remorse.
Uldyssian realized he was pulled out from the underwater, he coughed and turned on a side.
In that moment, two palms pushed on his chest making him cough harder until he eliminated all the water from his lungs.
He was dazed and when he looked at his saviour he saw no one else than Rathma. The farmer was to tired to be angey and just sit there analizing ancient's expressions.
The man was shocked and worried, for him or for hinself. Uldyssian saw that Rathma had no wounds and realized that the monster just teleported when he approached him and let the farmer fell into the river. But, why did Rathma saved him? That was the question that struck Uldyssian's mind.
"Because, even if you are a pain in the head, you are a person and everybody makes mistakes and misunderstand. I made many more in my youth, And I learned from them." The ancient answered with a touch of parental emotion in his voice. He rised and left Uldyssian alone, but the edyern felt the cold and motionless eyes of Rathma on him, from far away. He gained his power and rised up from the ground watching around him.
It was a very vast plain without nothing more than a tree scattered here and there. The landscape was miserable full of digs and holes, a very pale green grass covered the plain, it nearly looked like the grass was sick.
Some bloody corpses were scattered around the plain, giving it an odious aspect.
It was like they have fallen into a horror version of their world, but unlike Uldyssian, Rathma showed no fear or astonishment of this. He looked resigned.
Uldyssian saw Rathma's unsettled figure watching the river, but he left him alone and his mind concentrated at how he could go back home.
"There is life in that direction." The ancient showed into the north something was shining into his eyes. It was no light, it was hope. Uldyssian was astonished by this and without thinking or doubting, he followed Lilith's son.
They walked half of the day without stopping, Rathma insistent to get in there immediately because something was wrong. Uldyssian doubted this but with fear followed the bizarre necromancer. The rain stopped, a pale sun showed himself from behind the dark clouds, what acted like a blanket. The voice of the wind whispered words of death and screams into Uldyssian's ears.
Rathma seemed fine with it, like he was used to such surroundings. It almost looked like he was belonging to this destructive landscape where only the powerful and the cunning are survivors.
6
"BRON! BRON! BRON!" Captain Romford entered into the inn like a tornado. He was very disturbed, the man looked like he was facind the greatest nightmare in his life at that moment.
"What is it lad?" The blacksmith asked very curious. He rised from his chair and ended his beer to the panicked man. The captainlooked like a disaster his clothes were soaked with dirt and blood, his face was red and swollen.
"I...I need to... to talk to Bron." He said gaspind while the people from the inn started to gossip and invent some reasons. "I...I... Well I found...a piece of...of Anne's sleeve in...in an...an old...oak." The man said in a rush while he crashed on a chair. The poet took some water from the scared captain. He was really sorry about the beautiful Anne. She was a ray of light in his artists life, he wrote some poems about her but kept her name secret. He also named her in his poems 'moon' , 'light' , 'flower'. This girl was one of the most beautiful ones from the village.
"Hey! Get out of here! You won't steal as long as I am here!" The dazed poet screamed towards a traveler who was trying to steal some beer.
"Why won't I?" He said with a grin and drove out his crossbow. His mustache was very Kingsport like, in that city a big variety of young men had mustaches to make them look more attractive to women. Now, the facial hair was a sign of masculinity and power in the eyes of many women, it represented a sign of a burning romantic man who was a demon in bed.
His green eyes shone in the pale torch light, he looked very serious and that scared the poet. He was very afraid by thia situation he wasn't very good at fighting because he spent a lot of his life studying and writing, not beating. A very deaf sound violently, broke the poet from his thaughts. The thief fired an arrow in his direction, the shock of being killed by an arrow almost made the poet faint.
Then with bravery the captain drove out his sword and walked towards the thief. He was not afraid like the dreamy moron was, he wished to make this right, to make Captain Dolton proud by him. He swing the weapon in scoundrel's direction just to scare him. The thief jumped like a cat in the other direction, on the bar. The other men from the inn jumped in Captain's help breaking a table and some glasses.
From their strong muscular bodies they were barbarians. The dreaded warriors from the north, who guarded the sacret mount Areat from generation to generation. They were the children of Bul-Kathos the mighty nephalem who is even now feared and worshiped.
An old barbarian screamed and threw an axe in outsider's direction who worked as a distraction. The blacksmith grabed Lindon's leg pushing him on the floor.
"In the name of Tristram you're arrested! " Captain Romford shouted while he was taking the crossbow from the thief.
The inn was a mess, it looked like there was a tornado or something similar.
"Please take him outside. " Romford suggested while he gestured tiwards the poet. Headrig took him by the arm and dragged him outside the inn leaving him near the building.
The young man fell over the bar, sweaty and trembling it was his first near death experience and he hoped it will be the last. Some men screamed into the bar, the sounds of a breaking glass was heart then some loud cracking noises.
"In the name of Tristram you're arrested! " Captain Romford shouted and the agitation stopped. The poet felt himself rised from his misery and helt on the arms out of the inn. He closed his eyes for avoiding the shame, the amusement present in every men's eyes from here. He embarrassed himself in front if the whole town and some people from outside, what could be most bad than it. His anger was conducted at himself from the mementos when the consciences came to him. As he was left outside the inn, near a ditch he crawled into there and remainded here untill he could face the shame that fell over his shoulders.
"Be a man and face all the mess you're in right now!" The autoritar voice of Headrig come from behind him. He was now alone in all this time, that made the situation even worse for the young man.
"But, I don't know how." The frustration grow in poet's voice as he spoke. He continued to crawl untill he was in the middle of the ditch. "I am a fucking mess." He murmured as he covered himself in dirt. Headrig rose from the piece of wood that served him as a chair, in silence he watched the miserable poet.
"Fool boy!"