Chapter7: Family Memories - Part 1
Amongst the trees of the dark, mystical forest stood a small rural town named XX led by the officials of a cult known as the White Order. This town didn't always exist, as it was one of the many towns that was given birth through the establishment of hunting and gathering.
The town itself was beautiful. From the oak wood rooftops, heavily-fortified brick houses and blissful gardens, XX had an entrancing aura around it. The main attraction is the harbor, which was built here since as long as anyone could remember.
Despite it being a relatively underdeveloped town, XX had a booming economy, which was supported by its mercantilism with its main trade consisting of rare exotic fish and various flora and fauna.
The main strength was its ever-increasing hunting-gathering positions, especially in the time and age where guns took the place of more primitive weapons; these weapons were pragmatic and powerful and revolutionized hunting as a whole.
However, this main strength was also a weakness since these occupations were considered very dangerous, it was strongly advised no one entered the forest unaided as various rumors of mythical witch inhabiting the forest, just waiting for her prey.
Such was the lifestyle of Travis Fletcher…
Travis polished his shotgun as he fixed his eyes at the entrance of the forest. For a long time since this morning, he had been hearing nothing but loud screams of pain accompanied by some faint tremors here and there. As a resident and hunter of this developing town, the officials of the White Order told him that any and all noise originating from the forest should not concern him.
While he did tried his best to ignore the situation, he became deeply disgusted by them for their apparent lack of concern for those who could die out there. He couldn't tolerate this one bit. While the myth concerning an everlasting witch who kidnaps children and then lures them into her house to devour them was very apparent to him, he himself did not believe it. While he was indeed a hunter of the same town as everyone else, he thought very lowly of this suspicion often claiming that it sounded like petulant drivel that a child would read from a fairy tale.
Travis was a young, muscular man in his late twenties to early thirties. He had brown hair that was slightly spiked upwards with a few bangs falling flat on his forehead; it was the same color as his eyes. It was these parts of him that really brought out the muscularity of his face, which was chiseled and well-built. His face was so well-defined that nearly any woman would be able to fawn over him. His basic attire consisted of a traditional hunting garb that every hunter in the village more or less had: a plain white shirt, reddish-brown trousers and green combat boots. He also donned a green wristwatch on his left arm, which he was rather fond of.
Due to their decision to live in a relatively small, agricultural town, they cope with somewhat stellar living conditions. While Travis did had a modest earning outside his passion for hunting; he indulged himself within it more than anyone else in town. Hunting had been a hobby of that had been engraved in him since he was a boy and he also felt that it is a lot more rewarding to get something himself. "Why should I pay for something I can get for free? " he would often say. As such, he would hunt more than anyone else.
Travis supported a small family of three consisting of himself, his wife and his infant daughter Viola who was almost three years old. They had moved here a few months ago, in fact they have been settling in just fine. His wife was a rather sickly woman, which is why they had help from one their neighbors, Martha, help out whenever possible. Aside from her assistance, most ,if not everything, around the house was done by him.
Snapping out of his trance, Travis turned his attention towards his house and proceeded to go inside. The family lived in a standard two-story building consisting of a decent front and back yard accompanied by a wooden fence. The inside of it was not much as all it contained was an average lower-class living room and kitchen. Upon entering the latter area, he was alarmed to find his sickly wife cleaning the dishes from breakfast this morning.
The woman named Cheryl was a beauty in her mid-twenties; her golden honey colored hair was as alluring and bright as the sun. She chose to keep it simple by keeping it in a single braid. She wore a simple white sleeveless dress covered by a light blue apron. As for her figure, she was pretty thin if not emaciated with parts of her skin lacking pigment, though this didn't necessarily make her pale. She looked at her partner briefly before pointing her eyes down as she continued cleaning the dishes.
Travis looked in astoundment at this woman, wondering what was holding her together. It wasn't a regular thing for her to be out of bed, as her health would deteriorate to the point where she would pass out from fatigue if she overworked herself or worse.
Travis made his way to his wife, telling her that it was that time every two weeks where he would hunt for their meal for the following weeks. As he said so, Travis became agitated seeing his wife this way. Knowing that she is hurting herself more than she should by simply standing there hurt him.
"Please, please stop, I beg of you. You really have to rest", he said with a shaking voice. The sound of his voice brought chills down her spine as she was flabbergasted by his concern. She could feel the worry pouring from his body.
She responded in a low voice, "Please don't worry, Travis." She giggled a little as she continued, "It's honestly no big deal, I'm feeling better today anyway."
She was always like this, shy and soft-spoken. This, coupled with her sickness made Cheryl a fragile woman. Her daughter Viola would take after that in the future in that regard. Despite any and all of that, she wanted to live on normally as a wife and a mom that doesn't require any special attention.
She brought herself closer to him, placing her arms over his shoulders as she walked him to the door. Despite their age they still talk to each other as if they were in school. Cheryl may have been shy and reserved as a person, but as a woman she knew how to be romantic especially with the man who accepted her.
As they reached their porch, it happened…
Blood leaked from her nose as she gasped for air; she was having an attack. Cheryl leaned against Travis' chest. He didn't ask her what was going on because upon noticing the puddle of blood at the door he promptly pulled out his handkerchief. He placed it gently at nose, advocating her to breathe slowly as he walked her to the living room sofa.
Travis gritted his teeth out of distress . This was the very reason why he tried his hardest to keep her from exerting herself. He knew that she didn't want to feel needy; she simply denied her limitations sometimes, which was the reason Martha was in charge of her.
Travis hesitantly called out to Martha, who was in the garden at this time; he didn't want to leave his wife and daughter alone despite trusting Martha with his life. Upon telling her everything, Travis prepared his wife's medicine on the off chance she couldn't make it.
Martha was more of a surrogate daughter than his wife's caretaker, especially since her parent's death. She lived with the church, having no relatives whatsoever.
Turning his attention to the woman, Travis held her hand tightly as she did her best to thole the pain that was a symptom of her illness. It would feel like pieces of her guts were attacking each other and would eventually come out should it continue without cautiousness. While her attacks were not as frequent as most people with the disease, it still would surface from time to time.
Cheryl was on the brink of tears. With her bleeding having eventually subsided for the time being, she managed to finally lay herself down. When would the next attack happen is the question Cheryl constantly lived in fear of. Relaxing herself, she looked up towards him, the very man who was the first one to accept her despite how useless she must have felt towards him.
Thinking like that was almost second nature to Cheryl as throughout her life, even her seemingly close friends and family shunned her. It was her husband who showed her light in her life, the first to show her compassion. Eloping with him was the best decision of her life, thus losing him would mean death to her.
Travis covered her with a thin but long blanket as she heard the doorbell. After doing so he answered it. On the other side stood Martha with a rather worried expression across her face.
Martha had the appearance of a modest sixteen-year-old girl. Her distinctive features were her carrot orange hair ,which she parted to the right while the rest of it was braided into tails on both sides, and her yellowish-green eyes which just gleamed with brilliance in the sun as its light reflected off it. In terms of attire, her outfit would often consist of a plain red dress with a white pinafore that would reach to her knees, somewhat revealing how slender her frames was based on her legs, with black leather boots for footwear.
Storming past Travis before he's able to utter a word, she went to check on Cheryl. Horrified after seeing her nose bleed out like it did made her heart churn. She made her disgust apparent as she eyed the blue handkerchief used to subdue it which as now covered in streaks of red.
"What happened sir?", she demanded. Her voice was calm but she made her fear very apparent,
"What's come over Madame?"
Scratching the back of his head, Travis answered, stuttering on the words he spoke out of sheer nervousness, "S-she was insistent on working today d-d-d-despite me telling her she really shouldn't...w-when she was done and about to walk me to the door, it j-j-ust happened unexpectedly." He didn't take situations like this very well, he would always panic when she had an attack and it would sometimes make him forget the location of the medicine.
Thankfully it didn't happen this time and thankfully he wouldn't have to worry about it since Martha showed up at the right time.
Martha ran to the married couple's bedroom, reaching underneath the bed for her long-term medicine as the one Travis had was his own for his migraines. He laughed at this mishap of his.
Being the woman's caretaker and their daughter's babysitter to some extent, she was entitled to know the whereabouts to all the necessary household items and use them appropriately should the need arise.
With the medicine now in hand, she hurried back, filling a cup of water from the kitchen as she returned to Cheryl's side. The woman suffered a chronic degenerative disease, which required chemotherapy to be treated which Travis just couldn't afford. Without it, the medications the pharmacist prescribed where all she had to slow it down.
Swallowing the bitter medicine, Cheryl glanced at the cloth she doused with her own blood as water slid down her throat. She rested her head against the cushion and immediately began to feel drowsy from her medication.
Upon noticing her relaxed state, Travis approached the church girl.
"I'm so glad to know you're there for us when you can be", he said, with a sigh of relief coming out from his lungs.
As she finally let her anxiety out, Martha let out a laugh. She knew so much about nursing it was outstanding to the point where people would forget that she's only sixteen. She twisted her left braid, trying to not laugh as she said, "Always happy to be there for your family Travis." She looked at Cheryl as she continued "Is Madame going to be alright? I mean with her...condition"
"P-please don't say such things", Travis responded, his voice was taut as if in response to that word. Being a glass half-full kind of person, he hated the slightest inkling of negativity, especially when it came to hearing about his wife's condition.
Becoming somewhat distraught and uncertain with the current situation, Travis sat down, quickly making a cup of coffee out of nervousness. Here he had to provide for his family, but the unexpected, unprecedented occurrence of his wife's attack pattern this time just shook the center of his being entirely. Never before had this happened. Her days were numbered and he knew he just denied it.
It took some time, but ultimately Martha convinced him that she would never leave his wife's side and try to keep his daughter close. Reassured, Travis went outside, picked up his hunting gear was and proceeded to pick it up. That was before he noticed his daughter playing in the front door.
The young and naive three-year-old absentmindedly played with the flowers around her, grabbing as many dandelions as she could before blowing them for all the wishes she had. Her mother always told her young and innocent mind such a convention.
Awed by his daughter's shenanigans, Travis snuck behind the unexpecting toddler and grabbed her, tickling her playfully; an act that caused her to laugh uncontrollably. Travis spun his baby girl around before gently slamming her onto the soft grass, still tickling her.
Viola was shorter than most toddlers her age. She had messy blond hair that almost reached her upper back and big bulging green eyes; both traits taken after her mother. Her hair was lopsided due to the constant failed attempts to making it in braids herself. She wanted her own pair, just like Martha. Still her most distinctive feature was her wide spaced teeth which made lisp when she spoke. She wore a plain blue dress and wore socks.
Travis eventually stopped tickling her and started talking to his three-year-old.
"So, what did Daddy's Vi wished for?", he said in a playful voice.
With her face turning red, Viola gently slapped a dandelion onto her father's face out of affection. She counted them one by one, listing all her wishes as she did so, "I wish fo mommy to get beteh so she play with me. I wish I could go to schoow. " she kept going down the list until some of them struck him "and I wish fo a bwotheh and fwiend."
"A bwotheh", Travis repeated, childishly taunting her. Knowing what she meant, he replied, "Why not a sisteh? Doesn't Viola want a sisteh too?"
Viola threw a tantrum, "Siwwy Daddy, Mawtha is my sisteth.", seeing as Martha was the one who looked after her most of the time, she became convinced that she indeed was her sister, which was more or less true in terms of role.
At that very instance, Viola noticed Martha come out of the house. She ran to her very quickly. She buried her face in the apron she wore, jokingly blowing a raspberry at her father as she turned around.
Travis accepted his child's joke; she was his world to him. She knew, she simply just taunted him as she accepted that Martha was indeed her sister He approached Martha with the intention of saying goodbye while he was going hunting for the weekend.
He waved goodbye as he picked his hunting gear back up, heading towards the very forest in the very direction the noises emanated from this morning. Double checking his shotgun for shells, he headed in the face of danger.
All kinds of animals existed in this forest ranging from the birds within its tree branches and vermin hiding within the leaves of the bushes. There was no telling what beast lurked amongst the flora, all just waiting for Travis. Little did he know, one beast commanded all others in this forest, 'the damn witch' as the elders always put it.
Being a rather pleasant day for hunting, the forest was greener than ever, perhaps maybe too green. The weather was attributed as marvelous due to the warm atmosphere was graced with a chilling yet fresh breeze. The rivers streamed with life while they flowed with fresher waters than ever. Overall, today was a perfect shade of everything for Travis.
A good hour had passed and having traipsed along trees long enough, a parched Travis stumbled across the luxurious rivers mentioned earlier. He took out a transparent water canteen, making short work of the liquid inside it soon afterwards. After doing so, he quickly refilled the container and took another small drink.
Upon finishing his second drink, Travis noticed something out of the corner of his eye through the base of the container. A lone deer nonchalantly sipped water out of the body of water, though it was not completely unaware of whoever might see it.
The strong, magnificent deer stood high on all fours. Its fur a chocolate brown accompanied by a pair of overgrown antlers which Travis could make good capital off of.
Travis picked up his gun quickly and discreetly. Having seen the perfect opportunity, he readied with his finger on the trigger. Eager to not waste another second, he pulled the trigger. The bullet whistled through the air as it approached its unexpecting target.
However, something became off to Travis as the deer didn't so much react to the fact that a hunter was simply five feet from it on the other side. It just stood there all statue-esque and having an apparent lack of concern for itself. What was stranger still that before even the bullet came out, the deer simply swerved its head to the side, avoiding the trajectory of the bullet altogether.
Astonished at what had he just witnessed, Travis became suspicious. Nature was playing a really bad game with him here because he tried to rationalize what happened. Either he just couldn't hit something at that distance, let alone just across a small river stream, or this was a smarter than average deer. Missing with a speed above 1000 ms just was odd.
Travis quickly regained his composure, Though initially skeptical, he quickly fired another round without giving a second thought, without aiming this time. The deer simply stormed off as it heard the sound.
Figuring out that it was simply a jumpy deer, Travis, ascertained to catch it, grabbed his gear and jolted after his prey. He jumped across the river, sprinting past various trees, stumps and shrubs, meticulous in his approach to take this creature down. As the two continued running along the same path, the shape of the trees became noticeably more deteriorated the deeper they went in the forest.
On top of that, he noticed the ground becoming more and more bumpy with few human-shaped craters here and there.
Eventually this goose chase came to an end with Travis having finally cornered this bothersome animal. Seeing that he couldn't get an even better opportunity, Travis shot the rounds into its body, instantly depraving it of life.
Feeling victorious, Travis took the next 5-10 minutes dismembering the creature and placed all of its pieces into a plastic bag. His victory didn't last long though as he just started noticing what the area surrounding him was like.
Around him in this particular circle, he noticed that the tree barks were completely pulverized with body prints drenched in blood. Blood more or less surrounded him here. Amongst these puddles of blood stood something shiny. An eerie looking chokuto protruded out of the ground.
The chokuto had a sleek black handle which complimented with its unusual looking blade. The blade itself was normal in shape, around thirty-six inches long with a straight design. However, the sword's handle was bizarre as it had was trimmed with a silver lining and had an overall phoenix motif. It was also covered by a small hand-guard which was completely unorthodox for a Japanese blade to have.
Travis looked a few feet away, noticing what appeared to be the blade's scabbard which was even weirder than the blade itself. The scabbard matched its blade's handle color and it was just as metallic. What really surprised him was the silver guard in the middle of it though. The handle was bladed on the outside allowing the user to safely put their hand in the area it cover. The scabbard itself was the size of a bo stick, which seemed even more unorthodox if not impractical.
"A scabbard used as a blade along with its sword", Travis asked, questioning its practicality. He put the pieces together before noticing something in his peripheral vision.
He turned his direction the other way and then he saw him. About ten feet from where he picked up the scabbard sat someone. The face of the person in question was completely covered from the shade of the trees, save for the legs. As the sunlight changed positions in the sky, the shadows moved alongside the sun, revealing the person who had been hidden. The boy fit there almost perfectly; to the point where Travis couldn't even notice him even if he tried, had it not been for the sun.
At the root of that tree was a teenage boy. Looking at him closely Travis witnessed the horror.
The boy was trapped, constricted with sturdy vines that caught him by the torso and the throat. Travis approached the boy, using his knife to cut vines which ended up being cut easily. He checked the kid's heartbeat and it turned out that he was still alive just in a critical condition. He raised his hand as if reaching out for Travis only to lose consciousness soon afterwards.
Travis caught the boy in his arms, moving his black hair from his face, noticing he had but one eye whose grayness stared into his soul. The boy's entire left hand had been torn off while his right had been skinned off completely from the elbow down, or more accurately, forcefully removed as if it were paper. Looking at his face carefully, he had noticed really bad burns and scars with one piercing through his right eye socket to the back of the head.
Travis looked into his duffel and took off the kid's shirt noticing the various scars on his back and front. He grabbed out some cloth and gauze to subdue the bleeding, but that's all he could do for this young man, at least until he took him back to town to see a professional.
Forcing his jacket back onto him, Travis carried him on his back, and brought back everything with him. As they headed back, the youngster opened his eye, only for him to close it again moments later. He couldn't feel his legs and it felt like his entire being had been torn apart. He was sad but he didn't know why, a tear just narrowly grazed his face as his vision faded as he weakly uttered, "Father".
Travis didn't know why but he just found this kid inherently trustworthy; he just felt oddly calm when near him. He carried the boy and his materials and headed back.
XxXxXxX
Bleak and fuzzy thoughts passed through Aiden's mind as he woke himself. Opening his eyes steadily, his blurry vision readjusted itself as he assessed his situation. He found himself lying down with his body all crippled and bandaged, having been put to rest on an antique but usable sofa. He placed his bandaged hand on his head as he got up, only to find himself on the floor seconds later.
"Dammit", Aiden said in a grunting voice, breathing heavily as he struggled to stand up. In an act of frustration, he punched his finger-less hand on the ground, with an apparent lack of concern of the already disfigured state he was in.
After doing this a few times, he gradually calmed down and gently attempted to lift himself up as he thought to himself, "This place, where am I? How did I get here? More importantly why am I here? I don't remember getting here, in fact, why is my memory a bright white right now? Why can't I remember?"
Aiden looked at the calendar, grasping forehead firmly while doing so. He desperately tried to recall what had happened to him. This was to no avail as the last thing he remembered was being on a mission alone after being deserted by his own teammates, but that was it.
"Well that's just great", Aiden chided to himself, "One minute you're entering the forest, and the next minute you wake up with holes in your brain from recent events." He continued his thoughts, "I do remember wanting to die though before coming to that mission."
It was then that he hit a sudden realization, he clenched his teeth as a tear poured down from his one good eye. "Of course", Aiden uttered in disgust, "her".
"Reece, why did you have to be a demon? Why did you hide this from me? Why did you look down on me and not at me when I tried to make you understand what actually happened?!" He continued sobbing silently, it had been the first time since he was a little kid. His thought process was all distorted from the whole situation he'd been in, and he knew it too.
He tried to stop himself, seeing it as a form of weakness but it wouldn't relent, the waters kept pouring on his face, drenching the bandages as well. He tried so hard to never be this vulnerable again, but in the end, deep down, he was still that same sensitive kid he was growing up.
Aiden was a mess by the time he was done. Most of his upper body (front and back) was covered in scars, he had broken a few ribs, lost a right eye, the fingers on his left hand, which is now a wrapped up bleeding stump thanks to his anger, and the skin on his right arm all the way to the shoulder, leaving a mushy, grotesque red mess that was meticulously covered up. Both his legs were not only sprained, but his knee caps were broken as well from when he fell. His shirt was missing, revealing the gauzed up torso of his. The bandages reached up to his head, covering the right half of his face with his hair in a ponytail.
He looked to the coffee table in front of him where an ordinary glass of water sat there waiting to be drunk. He picked of the glass, bringing it to his bruised lip, taking a big sip as he thought, "The residents obviously left this here for me. Then again, they might as well poison me with it as no one I've encountered ever would have left water next to a sleeping person, no matter how fresh out of the sink it is. If anything they'd give me a stupid babysitter but I guess they are too poor to even do that. It's nice but just a bad move on their part."
Aiden heard of humming from the kitchen as he continued drinking. The voice was belonged to a girl no older than himself. Aiden smiled at the sound, feeling familiar vibes from the voice as he finished his water.
Curious of what was around him, Aiden slowly but stubbornly brought himself to finally stand up. It wasn't a novel thing for him to stand as this kind of thing regularly happened to him, just never this extreme before. Still, it was nothing he can't handle. He leaned with his one good arm against the nearest object as he headed to the dresser at the left side. Amongst the various trinkets cluttered on the left side sat his blade, pocket watch, his wallet and other items he kept on hand.
Grabbing his wallet first and examining its contents thoroughly, Aiden realized that almost everything looked unscathed. He had noticed that the photo of him and Reece had changed in location, indicating that his wallet has been rummaged through it discreetly but not discreetly enough much to his annoyance.
He placed his items in his pockets and lurched his legs to the door using his sword as a makeshift cane. In his mind he was thinking, "I have to get out of here. These stupid people didn't have to give me anything by bringing me here. I don't want ANYONE to see me as weak and vulnerable."
After a few more steps, Aiden fell again. He wrapped his arms around his sword as it disappeared in a flash of light. The sound of his fall was enough to grab the attention of whoever was watching him. Exhausted and out of breath, he leaned towards the wall hearing rapid footsteps as his vision got somewhat disoriented.
With hesitation, Aiden brought himself up, leaning against the wall again. He tried walking but it was no use, he was stuck against that wall, seemingly just another part of it. He felt nothing more than an object and it wasn't the first time he felt like this. Simply accepting the fact that he cannot escape without help, he waited patiently against the wall.
Coming from the kitchen doorway stood a girl with orange hair and shiny yellow-green eyes, in her arms was a blond three-year-old who slept soundly. The young lady, noticing how Aiden struggled to stand quickly placed the child in her room and tended to him. He noticed the very noticeable worrisome expression on her face as she placed him back on the sofa.
"What were you thinking?" the orange-haired girl said with persistence and anger, "You really should rest." This was a contrary to her gentle expression.
Aiden shrugged it off, there was no need to tell him twice. He gave her a cold glance, which admittedly did not break her voice just quite yet. He tried to hide his bandaged hand, to no avail. She noticed it immediately. It went downhill from there. "Stupid girl", he muttered. It was loud enough for her to hear it. She reacted but was patient with it regardless.
Worried to the point of infuriation, Martha demanded him to bring his bloody hand out. Having supplies nearby, she changed his bandages and uncovered the horror on his hand once again. It disgusted her as did his apparent attitude.
This overprotective attitude was very familiar to Aiden, but he can't remember where it's from. He'd usually lose the memories of the most important people to him whether he intends it or not. Some of his memories were sealed when he was ten and he lost some again from these few months. Trying to remember stuff hurt his head very severely, resulting in a headache that made even the severest of migraines look like nothing.
Quick on her feet as always, Martha grabbed some painkillers for him along with another glass of water. Aiden made short work of the medicine, intolerant of the pain. He calmed down somewhat seconds later. But he was still in pain, partially due to his hunger. Martha giggled as she noticed this and came back from the kitchen with a helping of food Travis caught the last time he went out.
She placed the plate on her lap, and began to feed Aiden, much to his annoyance. After a couple of bites, Martha deliberately withheld the next one and stated in a childish yet serious voice, "You have to calm down and stop trying to run." She pinched his cheek and pulled his nose as she smiled at him, uttering his name, "Aiden".
Looking down, she gave him the next bite. Looking at her caused him to blush endlessly, which coupled with her teasing just made him feel agitated. In response to that, he took the fork from her hand as he told her to cut the meat for him. For now it was only her he had to put up with.
Aiden looked at the clock, making its way to half past three. As he continued to take forking the food down his system, he noticed how the girl just didn't stop looking at him as he ate. She made him uncomfortable doing that, but he let her do it anyway as he didn't want to bother with anything.
As he took his next bite he asked her with a dry tone in his voice, "What is this?" He looked at her with his one good eye, sipping on water as to hide his embarrassment.
Martha giggled at those gesture of his, responding playfully, "It's venison silly boy".
Angered somewhat at being treated like a child, he finally snapped, "Shut up you incompetent girl and answer my question without sounding so lovey-dovey. Idiot."
Exercising patience, Martha glanced low, away from the silver coin that stared right into her soul. She continued to cut the meat as she did so.
After about ten minutes of silence, Aiden relented, "Listen, I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have yelled at you like that. It was wrong of me, pardon my rudeness" ,feeling that he might have been too harsh on the girl. It wasn't her fault that he's here, if anything he should be thanking her, which he ultimately did. "I'm grateful for your help and saving me. But..."
Accepting his apology, Martha helped him finish the rest of his plate stopping him short of his sentence. She placed the dishes in the sink, washing them as Aiden, in her absence, undid his ponytail, allowing his bangs to encompass his face once again.
Martha noticed this as she came back, tsking at this action of his while doing nothing to fix it. She went to tend to Viola as she cleaned the last of the dishes.
Jaded from waiting for her sitter, Viola ran around the house, specifically circling the perimeter connecting the kitchen to the living room. It didn't take her long to notice the person sitting on the sofa.
In the span of a few minutes upon noticing her, the blank expression on Aiden's face transitioned into a slight smile. The three-year-old somehow felt truly calm around him and sat next to him because of his soothing aura.
Having removed the bandages from his face a while ago, Aiden took the initiative to speak up, "What's your name?".
Unsure on what to say at first, Viola seemed to feign ignorance of the question at first. He asked her again, in which she responded with her infamous lisp, "Vio-rha."
"Viora huh", Aiden chuckled.
"No, Viorah", she said, displaying annoyance. Wincing the lilypads at him, shirking her face in a relatively absurd way/
"Her name is Viola", Martha yelled from the kitchen.
"Oh my bad", Aiden snarked, "So I have a lisper on my hands here, how charming.", he thought to himself. "So, Viola then", he continued, "Like the genus of flowers you were named after, your hair and eyes fit the description very well. A truly remarkable name."
Viola giggled hard at that sentence, she continued as if she was being tickled.
"What's so funny?", Aiden demanded.
Viola continued to laugh, "You tawk funny." She eventually stopped and said, "Speawk Engwish pwease!"
Aiden frowned at the girls taunts, he couldn't understand it at all. He grew up not being able to speak at all, and she mocks him for not speaking properly. Nevertheless he found it amusing to listen to. "It's a nice name", Aiden said simply.
"Thank you", said the frolic girl, "Bwotheh"
That very word sent chills down his spine, for some reason that very word haunted him, He couldn't remember why, it just did. It was on impulse, he brought the three-year-old closer to himself and hugged her, he began to talk nonsense, "I'm so sorry, for whatever pain I might cause you now or in the future, just take care of yourself."
"Bwotheh why you cwying", Viola said in concern.
"Because you don't know how lucky you are", he said with his voice cracking.
"Yefs I am", the girl said playfully, "I've always wanted a browtheh, and now I haf one." The girl noticed something off about the shape of his eye. It was as if the three spikes stemmed from its center accompanied by three arcs that complimented it. The complicated design took shape in his eyes. She reacted happily to it, "You eyes are bewtiful, I'll get a miwwow."
"That's what everyone says", Aiden thought, "but they are not". Viola came back with the mirror to show it to him, only for them to vanish as he picked it up Was what she saw an illusion? He wiped his eyes eyes as she this happened.
"I see our girl has gotten along with you just fine", said a voice in the distance. Aiden turned around to hear it, revealing two people behind him. One was a woman with the same hair and eye color and the other was a well-built man with matching brown hair and eyes. The woman leaned against his shoulder for support. It seems as they just got out of the infirmary.
Aiden looked at the happy couple, hiding a smile underneath his messy bangs. "So what of it", he said sarcastically, as he turned his gaze towards them with the smile on his face gone.
Martha gave Aiden a noogie as she teased him, "Oh you liar, you are happy for them". Having not felt that level of discomfort he made his annoyance apparent.
Noticing this, Travis took action, "Alright Martha, that's enough, you can go home", he made a humorous face as he dismissed her. Martha skipped out the door, sticking her tongue out playfully as she waved to Aiden.
After taking Cheryl and Viola to their rooms, he brought a kettle of tea and poured some for himself and the boy, turning his attention him as he did so. "Sorry to trouble you young man. Hope Martha didn't anger you too much."
"No, not really. She's actually a surprisingly virtuous girl.", Aiden replied, his tone all monotonous as he sipped his tea, "It's just that growing up I never had anyone do that kind of stuff to me; it just feels so novel and strange to me. By the way, this tea is good."
"Thank you", Travis said in response to the young man's attitude as he continued for pressing matters. "And what do you mean by that? I mean when you say nobody has ever done stuff like that to you?"
"It's self-explanatory", Aiden said solemnly with a hint of annoyance in his voice, "But if you really want to know, it's because I grew up isolated from everyone else in my family despite living in the same house. I was separated from society and due to that I find social norms and customs very difficult to understand even long after I've been free from that time."
"Why?", Travis asked, voicing his concern.
"I have been treated very harshly since I was very young. Because of that, even though society can have good, its norms simply don't affect me accurately I cannot bring myself to care enough for them to affect me," Aiden said in a calm and unnerving voice. It surprised Travis that he was indeed talking to a teenager, but what surprised him more that he could say such heartbreaking things without breaking equanimity.
"Care to tell me why?", Travis said, worrying what scary words would come out of the boy's mouth.
"That's a story set for another day", Aiden said as he finished his tea. He felt the joints and structure of his bones slowly reassembling. He knew he had to continue pretending he was crippled though.
"What is your name, young man?" Travis asked, not that he had to since he already knew. He simply wanted to hear what he had to say.
"Aiden Tsukada", he responded half-heartedly with a lack of glimmer in his eyes.
Travis made a face, the name Tsukada had a bit of ring on his mind. He was sure to have read it somewhere before. Maybe he was just overthinking it.
Pretentiously limping to the window as he held his empty cup, Aiden took the chance to ask questions of his own. He looked at Travis as he swayed his head around slightly as he asked, "Where am I and how did I end up here?"
"You're at XX, my home town. I was hunting and I found you against a condition made you resemble a corpse more than a living thing." , Travis responded.
"What was my condition? My injuries?", Aiden asked in a menacing voice.
"I'd rather not", Travis said, trying hard not look at the boy's eye, "I don't think you'll be able to handle the truth."
"It's my body", Aiden said with a blank expression, "I'm sorry but if you tell me, I will tell you everything in due time." he lied.
"I don't know all the details but it seems that lost your left hand and suffered various burns and bruises from the neck down. I don't know about your eye entirely, but the doctor did imply that you lost it as well as received some significant brain damage. " he said sternly.
"That explains why I can't remember everything from the last few months", Aiden said, cautiously patting his bandaged eye socket as he said that.
"Weirder still, and I did notice this, is that one of your injuries at the back of your head suggests you were stabbed at the back of it exactly where you lost your eye.", Travis said solemnly.
"Oh I see", Aiden said as he thought. "I'll have to play it very safe here. I'll gain both those things back over time. I cannot allow these insignificant low lives to know about me. For these people's innocence, I'll have to keep it hidden."
"I seemed to have worried you more than I intended to. In that case enough of this pressing matter, is there anything I can do for you?" Travis offered, feeling that he had a debt to repay.
"I need books to read.", Aiden said bluntly, "Otherwise nothing."
"Oh in that case, Cheryl has a small study upstairs, you can go up there if you want. I'll show you", he said surprised at Aiden's request.
"I'd rather stick here then invade anyone's privacy", Aiden said trying to not be a problem.
"No need just make yourself at home", Travis said, walking towards Aiden. He helped Aiden walk up the stairs, unaware that his bones already reformed. He showed Aiden the room.
Cheryl's study was a simple white room adorned with green carpets consisting of wool. The room had three bookshelves; two on the opposite ends of the oak desk and one in the corner next to the reading chair near the left side of the room. The study contained numerous books, ranging from mathematical conceptions to deep understanding of philosophy and history.
Aiden still thought of the word 'home' as if it had a negative connotation to it. While he didn't overreact, he befuddled him. He noticed Travis leave as he let his thoughts progress.
"Home huh? I never did understand the meaning of that word despite reading so much. Is home a sanctuary where one's heart lies with the people who prosper them and allow them to feel a place of belonging?" , he looked at the books with a blank expression , "Or is it just a thing about reputation, where one builds their merits on bloodline and wealth, just hoping to survive with other monsters who more or less suffer the same process? I'd like to say it is where a person's heart belongs but my heart belongs nowhere."
He finally picked up a book about Tsukadan\Norowaretan disparities. This was a thing about his heritage that he longed to read but never was allowed to.
For the rest of the night, Aiden spent his time slowly, but surely reading books while Travis discreetly brought him food, knowing how the boy is similar to Cheryl in the sense that he doesn't seem like the kind to speak whenever he's involved into anything.
Cheryl noticed him in the chair, having long fallen asleep before she arrived. She smiled at the boy, covering him up as she headed back to bed herself.
XxXxXxX
As morning came about, strange feelings of comfort flourished through Aiden's mind. He woke up sniffing an affectionate aroma around him. It was almost as if his fragile heart was being hugged as it embraced him.
Opening his gleaming eyes, he remembered what he was dreaming. He remembered a young girl calling him big brother. She had black hair and aqua colored eyes with hair to match his own. He remembered taking a curb stomp just to protect her when they were 8 and 7 respectively.
This new information left him shaken. All this time, he had no memory of his childhood and the memory bothered resurfacing now. He shook his head, remembered being stabbed in the eye a few days back. He wondered if these surfacing memories were a consequence of that.
Reassessing his thoughts, the smell emanating from downstairs penetrated his nose. It had been long since he smelt something this good. With that notion, he made his way downstairs where Martha, Cheryl and the infant sat on the table. He continued to play the facade that he still was limping.
Martha and Cheryl were cooking breakfast while Viola turned to face Aiden. "Oh, bwotheh yuh awake." She petulantly pointed at him as he made himself noticeable to her.
Everyone turned their attention to the boy, Martha began teasing Aiden while Cheryl hit her head lightly with an uncut beet.
Ignoring the scene, Aiden looked at the clock, it was quarter past ten. He went to the bathroom, where he discreetly took off the bandages on his back, revealing the faded burns and freshly oozing flesh cuts on his back, only to somehow miraculously cover it back up with the same bandages.
While Aiden appeared as a normal fifteen-year-old teenager who was brighter than most, there was more to his physiology than meets the eye. About less than a couple years back, his body was subjected to embody the carnal sin of Wrath but later learned that it didn't bond with him cause he was compatible, more like something sacrificed itself so he could survive.
Aiden quickly washed his face with his good hand and headed back downstairs. He noticed how breakfast was being made by Cheryl. He noticed the amount of bread she baked, bagels with spread especially. Eggs, grapes, orange juice and some weird tiny wheats that came in a box that appeared to be taken with milk. Viola was nowhere in sight; she must've went outside while he washed his face.
Sitting down, Aiden nervously asked them to make slice and toast two bagels with cream cheese spread along with some tea.
Laughing at this request, Martha did just that. She loved to tease the boy as his seriousness knew no bounds sometimes. She wondered how long he can stay that way. She fixed up his request and gave him just that.
Aiden silently ate his breakfast, without speaking unless he was spoken to, which was bound to happen.
Twisting the ring on her finger, Cheryl asked him, "Hey, if you don't mind me asking. Where are you from Aiden?"
Swallowing the delicious bagel, Aiden spoke afterward, "The eastern hemisphere, specifically areas inhabited by Orientals like myself."
"You're Asian?", Cheryl asked, showing interest in the boys demographics.
"If that's what you'd like to call it", Aiden said with a monotone tone in his voice. He continued to eat the bagel, guzzling it down with some tea so he wouldn't choke on his words.
"Ehr ehm, stiff ass" Martha whispered, pretentiously coughing as she continued pestering the grains.
"Martha, don't be so rude", Cheryl scolded, "I might as well wash that mouth of yours with soap". Indeed, she was not her mother, but she still had to know better.
She immediately stopped, continuing to pestle the grain.
Cheryl couldn't help but notice the young man's rather mature demeanor, impressed by his lack of petulance despite his age. He didn't even react to anything, or rather it looked like he never allowed himself to. He just sat there without the slightest concern.
Cheryl pretended to think he knew the answers to everything. This young man interested her greatly, so she began to wonder what could be going on behind the silver windows into his mind.
"I couldn't help but notice the sheer amount of books you've read yesterday.", Cheryl said, smiling, with her thick accent, "That's impressive; is reading all you do?"
"Aside from exercising and solving complicated puzzles yes", Aiden said, finishing his food, he rudely sipped the rest of his tea afterwards.
"I couldn't help but notice you love reading the history especially", Cheryl said, "I've always did find Eastern Asian history amusing, that's mainly due it being ancient history."
"How would it not be interesting?", Aiden said as he thought "We are the most screwed up people in the entire world, that's how I would put it." He responded to this after figuring out his family history.
Martha butted in, "I specifically couldn't help but find the whole founding of that world interesting. Eight families in particular that founded the basis of the system there."
"Also, there was one of the family heads who is despised even to this very day, whose actions cursed his entire descendants.", Cheryl added on.
Aiden paused for a second as he heard those very familiar words, he had an idea of what would happen if he stayed. So with that he left outside for fresh air. He grabbed a toothpick on the way called out to him to see if he'd like to hear the story, he said that he would pass and proceeded outside.
"Can you tell me the story about him again?", Martha asked, "You tell things in amazing detail"
"There were eight families that founded the system of the Eastern world", Cheryl said, putting on her reading glasses as if she were a librarian, "one particular head of one sketchy family was Azazeru Noro' wareta, or Azazel Norowareta according to the translations."
"Haha, Azazel means scapegoat", Martha chuckled at the irony of his name. She wasn't to blame as it was hard not to make fun of it.
"Are you done?" Cheryl said sternly. She'd find her lack of maturity surprising at times.
"Sorry", Martha apologized, "I can't help it, the name is so ironic if you think about it."
"Being the most farsighted of the eight, Azazel was an extremely intelligent and unprecedented leader, one of the finest and a prodigy his generation. Known for being the apparent founder and master of even the darkest of the dark arts as well as being a surprisingly benevolent ruler despite the dangers demons pose to him.", Cheryl said and stopped knowing Martha would say something afterwards, which she did.
"Yeah, I take it even the false rumor about that witch in the forest", Martha snarked.
"It's not false if it hasn't been proven yet Martha", Cheryl said, shifting the tone in her voice as she continued, "Back to the topic at hand, this unprecedented power coupled with his strong ideology of using fate to establish absolute authority over others led them to believe he was insane. Granted he might have been, he just saw things fall into place so well it caused others, even demons to envy him."
Martha gasped at the instance she heard that.
"However, Azazel was not perfect", Cheryl made clear, taking off her glasses in a rather fashionable way, "Deep down, he was troubled by the idea of closeness and forsake it himself due to his childhood friend and co-founder turned over fell in love with someone else. His methods were also borderline extremist and underhanded, he had an "ends justify the means" attitude. He'd lie, torture and even cheat people pathologically, and he'd do that very well. Despite any and all of that he actually wasn't sadistic or cruel."
"Sounds like a person you'd want to keep at an arm's length", Martha commented as she unbraided her hair, only to braid it up again.
"Many claimed that this stemmed from Azazel's need to fill the void in his heart, which is noticeably false. Azazel did eventually find someone to reconcile his loss and was able to have I believe to be around five children, maybe six but that's not the pressing issue." Cheryl added, scratching her head from irritation, "Due to these continued underhanded tactics, the country fell apart and the other members gave him a choice, either to step down or dismember the council. Azazel chose neither and the other seven declared war on him. They were all wanting to do the right thing to maintain a good society, while Azazel knew that in the times they existed it was not humanly possible."
"Then", Martha said, gaining goosebumps as a result of the last statement.
"Forced to fight his childhood friends among others in his council, Azazel, in grief and in desperate for an answer to solve all this chaos, turned to his dark arts. He made a deal with a sinister devil. He would be granted extremely accurate visual and mental prowess at the cost of something important to him. Blinded by what he thought he had nothing left to lose, Azazel sacrificed his blood and was tricked into sacrificing his own wife. Realizing the mistake he made, he destroyed his dark secrets, causing them to manifest into a demon that corroded his aura." Cheryl's voice cracked saying this.
"A sort of guardian he can manifest by willpower", Martha interrupted.
"It was more like a symbiote, but a guardian seemed to be more accurate, it was known as the Nameless, a manifestation of Azazel's failure and depression", stuttered Cheryl, as she cracked her fingers, "Azazel, using these newfound powers, found himself in a situation where he thought he could make amends. He proposed a new and revised policy to his fellow founders. Being shady of him already and becoming increasingly uncomfortable with him , they rejected it."
"He would be such a cold ass..." Martha added, "If it weren't for the following key factors, he would be the most hated man in the world."
"Yes, indeed; Azazel was a rather detached individual, having his own family much, much later than the rest of his four foster siblings, the other four founders of the government. He would also be away from home very often." Cheryl, said, despondent, "Those people, turning their very backs on him broke him causing him to think he had nothing to live for; something he would ultimately, and foolishly, learn was wrong as he unintentionally learned to have lost his wife because of his own actions."
"That is disturbing", Martha said, almost crying as a result.
"After being rejected countless times. Azazel grew angry and in a fit of rage, killed all of his other foster siblings, leaving the families they left behind vastly devastated.", Cheryl continued, with her voice becoming disconcerted.
Martha rubbed her skin in response to this. She was getting goosebumps.
"He didn't stop there though. He killed countless others and even went as far as cursed the families in a variety of ways. After committing these sins of great pleasure and guilt, it was then he learned his wife was taken from him." Cheryl continued with the story "Feeling betrayed by everything he indulged his life in, he returned home where he asked all his sons to impale him simultaneously until he died from severe blood loss before he could turn any more insane."
"In a twisted way, his love-sick puppy attitude", Martha inferred, "Was in itself an absolute darkness."
"Yeah, it is Martha", Cheryl said,, "On a disturbing note, it is rumored that Azazel's close traits as well as his insanity passed onto his descendants. The feel that there is no one to love at all, which is honestly the saddest part as no one outside their clan negotiates with them as they are easily recognizable with their ancestors white hair and silver eyes. They are said to potentially dangerous as they all have a Nameless of their own and it causes misfortune to happen to anyone near them. If I can, I would take on in just one just so they understand that everything is not really unfair."
"I wonder", Aiden thought, as he eavesdropped. He heard the voices just little out the doorway, so he stepped further.
"But anyway" Cheryl smiled, "I'm sorry to subject you to all of this, it's just so interesting. I hope his descendants are doing well though, they honestly don't deserve any of the harsh treatment."
"One last thing though, is it true that Azazel reincarnates once in a while? I didn't think it would be possible", Martha asked out of curiosity.
"That is a an issue that appears to be more fiction than fact but I can't argue against it because I've never seen these people. Even if I did, I don't know by what means", Cheryl said, "All I know that any Norowareta Hijiri in existence can be saved from this destructive madness of theirs, but there is almost a zero chance possibility that he or his reincarnations can be saved from their and all ones have gone insane or died before getting there. It's not their will."
"That's scary, Madame", Martha said, softly biting her finger in nervousness.
"But interesting", Cheryl said, standing up as she headed upstairs, "I've always loved this part of history. It might as well be fictional but it is heartbreaking."
"Madame!", Martha called out.
"Yes?", Cheryl answered, about to head up the stairs with her hand on the rail.
"You mentioned that Azazel reincarnates." Martha said, with a look of absolute worry on her face, "How is it, besides apparent madness, will he be recognizable? Considering this is all true."
Cheryl turned around, staring at Martha with those weak green lilypads, "As I read, it is not blatantly obvious. More often than not, they bare a very striking resemblance to Azazel himself. However, only very important government or clergy know exactly what he looked like and only they can recognize its him at first glance. That and if you feel a very vile presence behind you, it'll be him."
"Thank you", Martha answered, "I overheard the heads of the church talking about this and I just wanted to be wary."
Cheryl walked up to Martha, giving her a hug. She knew this troubled her and comforted her as a result. "Martha, I know you would like to find out the reason your parents died and would like to study witches' motivations but I am telling you this right now. Let it go, there is not one of those people here in this area, so just calm down."
"Alright", Martha sniffled. She had been taken in by the church since a very young age and wanted to know the reason why people turn to demons. She liked to believe that the these people that Cheryl mentioned were the answer, but she laughed, "Who am I kidding, anyway? I'm just a woman trying to find answers in the world."
XxXxXxX
The scene shifts to Aiden limping about in the garden. He looked at the bright sky, the sun's rays reflected off his eyes brilliantly as he noticed the simple decor of the place he was brought.
Looking around him, he noticed how little of a world these townspeople. It was so small but it contained a lovely atmosphere that brought him to ease for the first time in forever.
Aiden took a deep breath, inhaling the morning air as he raised his hand towards the sun as if he were reaching for it. "Such a small and pitiful village but this simple way of life somehow just makes me smile.", he thought after he finished stretching.
Out of the corner of his eye, Aiden noticed Travis polishing his hunting rifle near in the porch. "You finally up kid", he said, immediately upon noticing Aiden.
"Yes", Aiden said promptly as he turned to his left to meet Travis in the eye.
"How is your health?", Travis asked, cleaning the barrel of his gun carefully.
"Well, I can breathe", Aiden said sarcastically before answering seriously, "I still have my sprains, but it is a bit more manageable for me to walk. The scars on my body will be gone over time."
Travis moved towards Aiden, offering him a place to sit next down in the chair next to his opting for some friendly conversation towards the shattered young man. Ultimately swallowing his pride, Aiden conceded. He sat down next to the man, letting himself loose as the conversation commences.
"It must have been quite a hard time for you", Travis asked, putting his gun down next to him, "I mean to be bleeding out of in the middle of the forest like that all battered, not to mention about half your face being gone.".
"Yeah, probably", Aiden said, placing his hand underneath his hair, onto the right side of his face to feel the bandages on his eye, "it's no big deal"
"How is this not a big deal?", Travis asserted, "You lost your hand for goodness' sake and most likely your eye and you nearly bleed to death."
"They say while physical pain is a nuisance, it is emotional and psychological pain that drives a person into a complete nightmare.", Aiden said with a blank stare, unfazed by the man's vexation.
"What happened to you?", Travis wondered.
"I don't remember", Aiden said, intending to stand up, "It's like you said, I had brain damage so I can't remember anything from the last few months."
"I mean why are you so damn cynical", Travis clarified, grabbing the boy's arm.
Aiden sat back down and responded accordingly, "I'm a broken person, nothing more or less."
"What broke you?", Travis asked, still holding his arm.
"Imagine falling in love and feeling betrayed in some sense.", Aiden said, with his voice cracking.
"Is there more to it than that?", Travis asked, finally letting go of the child's hand.
"No", Aiden lied. He turned his attention to something else, "I did notice something though in the little time I spent here though. Your wife, her condition is grave. He's in poor health I take it?", he asked bluntly, almost rudely.
"Ummm..", Travis uttered, at a loss for words.
"Please don't act surprised. It's honestly not that difficult for me to figure out", Aiden continued, inspecting the bandages on his hand, "I noticed how pale her skin was and notice a couple bloody paper towels on the kitchen sink."
"Yeah, she's suffering from a disease that caused her family to not see any potential in her at all", Travis said calmly despite Aiden's tone.
"Yet she found someone who accepted her despite that", Aiden said, with a straight face.
"And I'm glad to have been that person.", Travis smiled.
Aiden stood up, walking towards the steps of the porch, "Falling in love has got to shed a lot of light into a person's life, however, that light can be transformed into darkness and that darkness is the worst kind."
"Not going to deny that but I don't know what to tell you unless you open up to me.", Travis replied
"I'll tell you when the time is ready", Aiden lied again.
"Fair enough," Travis said as he left and headed out, "While I'm gone, I take it won't be a problem for you to look after my family. I know Martha would but for some reason Viola just seem to have taken a liking to you."
"Fine", Aiden said, "Needy lowlife" he thought as he blushed.
"By the way...", Travis smirked, "When the time is right go get her." With that he headed out.
Knowing what he was referring to, Aiden noticed a butterfly around the porch area. He gave it a murderous stare for ten minutes before he quickly tossed the toothpick he had been holding at it.
The toothpick impaled the butterfly's wing, rendering it useless. It tore through that thing as swiftly as if it were scissors cutting paper. Martha was just behind him as he did such an action. She was amazed as he just brutally and brilliantly crippled a moving butterfly with such deadly precision.
Martha did not comment but instead allowed Aiden to walk back inside; she didn't like the murderous intent in his eyes. Noticing the critical state the poor creature was in, Martha had ultimately no choice but to end its suffering. She hesitantly stomped on it before going after Aiden.
Martha quickly walked up to him, placing her hand on his shoulder a split second before he reached the stairs. Unhappy with Aiden's apparent disregard for life, she called him out, "You know you're an ungrateful asshole, right?"
"I wanted to kill him right then and there but couldn't so I settled", Aiden said dismissively. He was cramping and twitching, the crest made it difficult for him to control his anger or move doing so.
Hearing those very words, Martha instinctively slapped the boy across the face, immediately scolding him afterwards, "How dare you say that about Travis? He saved your life, and you talk like he's dispensable."
"How dare you slap me peasant?", Aiden thought, holding the part of the face she slapped. Aiden immediately took those thoughts back, he looked back during his time as a prince. He remembered that despite being a prince he was treated like a peasant himself. This caused him to relate to them better than they could.
Once that very family disappeared, he felt surprisingly exalted. He wanted to find them after his town perished, but not to avenge them. He wanted to have revenge against them. It all made sense to him right there, he was never loved by his family but due to complications after his home was destroyed he ended up believing he was a person deprived of love rather than a person not experiencing any until now. All he felt was hate and was nothing but an embodiment of hate.
This hatred was the only reason Aiden was alive today and he knew; he was well aware of it and that fact that it was the only driving force in his life made him subconsciously sad. His face turned all depressed and light in his eyes died afterwards. Rather than directly apologize or decide to hurt anyone further, Aiden quietly intended to leave.
"Where are you going?", Martha demanded, she grabbed him by the arm, only for him to force her off him shortly afterwards, making her fall down.
Aiden took all the belongings that were on the table, he didn't respond to the question. All he did was keep moving.
There he was, at the front door. He planned on treating these people as just another means on getting better and was about to leave. He was planning to leave even though his graver injuries haven't gotten even remotely close to getting better.
Nothing stopped Aiden as he made his way to the mailbox. An unnatural sadness started making its way, he had been treated like a freak all his life. An amorphously, faint but somewhat noticeable dark cloud appeared around him, a manifestation of his own sadness. Unaware of its existence, Aiden took the first step off the grounds.
Upon taking a few more steps, something caught him by the shoulder and the leg. He turned to face the source of these touches and found both Cheryl and Viola behind him.
"Madame...I", Aiden said, with his body all shaking and his eye's twitching.
Before he could say anything else, the older woman hugged him. Aiden got so angry that he tried to fight it. His face turned a complete red. Aiden felt trapped, this was a situation he couldn't cope with. A tear left his eye as he started to struggle. The dark cloud around him grew more visible as he continued to struggle.
"Let go, let go of me", he said petulantly, "Leave me be. Let me go. Why won't you just leave me alone." His voice broke as he said that.
It was no use, he didn't have both his hands at the moment. He drowned in the sickly woman's hug; she smelt like cherry blossoms. "Leave if you want, but I'm here to tell you. I understand, even if you won't tell me", Cheryl said in a motherly way, "I understand what it feels like to be an unwanted child by a family who can care less about you."
Aiden hugged her back, calming down considerably. The black smoke that was surrounding him had disappeared. For the first time ever in his life, he felt some sort of motherly affection. He didn't know this woman but for the first time in forever, he finally realized on a more conscious level how empty he had been, experiencing nothing but hatred.
Despite feeling nothing but that, he was not without being compassionate for his memories lingered somewhere, he just can't remember a few things in his life, not that it mattered to him. He took his anger too far on occasions and let his emotions get the better of him, not anymore.
"Bwotheh, don't go", Viola said, crying.
Hearing those words, Aiden had a significant change of heart. "This aura that is motherly affection, its soothing, relaxing and fascinating", he thought, "So this is what it is supposed to feel like."
Cheryl immediately suffered from another attack soon afterwards; her breathing stiff as the blood drenched Aiden's shoulder.
Upon noticing it and realizing what is going on, he told Viola to bring Martha while he brought Cheryl back to the house. Martha ran back out, offering to take her off Aiden's hands but he refused. Aiden, with newfound love for the woman, brought her inside and brought her to her bed, giving her the medication she needed.
Looking at this woman filled all the emptiness in the boy's heart. After affectionately giving her the medicine, he was told by Martha to leave the rest to her. He closed the door behind him and immediately turned to the young Viola, who came onto his leg. He spent the rest of the day in charge of her and played with her.
XxXxXxX
An entire month had passed since his arrival at XX. Aiden was still overly distant with these people. He, with sword behind his chair watched Travis perform target practice in the backyard. Only himself and Travis found themselves at home, while the women were at the bazaar.
Hunting was a very strong passion of Travis's, it had been ingrained into his mind around the age of nine. His work involved stock exchange and he would often offer up his kills as merchandise The forest had some of the most finest deer and rabbits to eat off of. For the sake of his work, Travis was simply honing his skills.
He remembered the words from his superior.
"Use this crest wisely. You can restore your body parts, either passively or actively, with it. Be careful, however, as doing the latter causes mental instability. Best bet is to do it passively at a slower pace, but honestly you'll never have the time to."
Gritting his teeth at that very memory, Aiden discreetly unbandaged his somewhat-restored hand. As of right now, a skeletal hand lined with flesh that very slowly but surely formed around it had rooted from the stump a few weeks back. He also noticed how he could feel his eye in its rightful place while the rest of his wounds albeit still fresh, were healing. He deliberately chose not to apply this healing factor on a very miniscule part of his physique, letting it heal as fast as a regular human. The huge scar around where lost his eye was part of these "minor problems"
"This keeps up", Aiden thought,"I might force myself to cut off my hand to keep up this illusion" He couldn't entertain how they would react to an arm stemming from a stump.
Surprisingly unamused by the obvious grotesque nature of the abomination that would soon become his hand again, Aiden quickly patched it back up before confronting Travis.
Curious, he asked, "So how do these contraptions work?", picking up an empty revolver as he did. He had never seen one of these ever as they were not developed where he came from.
"Depends on the gun", Travis said, he picked up a golden round as he demonstrated, "But they all carry have one thing in common, a container that is composed of copper point, laced with an explosive substance, cordite or gunpowder at the bottom and a sharp shell to keep it all together."
"I take it these barreled contraptions just serve to puncture these dangerous pests", Aiden sulked.
'Yes, what happens is that when I immediately pull this trigger", Travis explained enthusiastically , "it is spring locked into this hammer at the back which when I let go punctures the bullet ignites a small explosive charge within the bullet's metal, causing it to ignite the propellant inside causing the bullet to travel so blindingly fast as it kills as soon as you hear the sound." He launched a round from the barrel of his shotgun causing it to shatter the empty beer bottles in the distance.
"Sounds interesting and practical", Aiden said, "You wouldn't mind if I practice with this small one would you." He quickly opened the revolver, grabbing the six size appropriate rounds and loaded the device.
Travis helped Aiden aim the revolver at the squirrel from a distance. He urged him to be patient and fire if he knows the time is right.
In one fluid motion, he pulled the trigger causing him to jolt backwards a bit. After regaining his balance, Aiden came to realize that the target was terminated.
Upon this happening, few more squirrels attacked at once, scampering toward the men as they looked in amazement.
Travis turned around to save his life. He was at the corner of the house when he realized how solemnly still Aiden was.
The squirrels lunged at him all at once. Aiden with his finger on the trigger, waiting for them to overlap and with one swift shot, he killed the rodents simultaneously,
After doing so, he walked up to Travis and gave him the gun.
Noticing his deadly accuracy and interest in the boy, he let him have the gun as a present.
XxXxXxX
For the next few months, following the return of Travis, Aiden had become somewhat integrated himself into the family. Rather, he let himself be integrated. In time, his demeanor had grown softer and more compassionate, though this does not go without saying that he had not share his backstory among them yet as he was either waiting for an opportunity to tell them or leave without feeling the need to with his mind more inclined on the latter option. He knew he had to tell the otherwise, he just wished he could without posing immediate danger.
He and Martha spent the day at the park with Viola. The park was not far from the Fletcher household and it was rather simple in design, consisting of a couple of tall trees and a park bench. Travis and Cheryl had turned in early for the day.
Wearing a plain black shirt and pants, Aiden watched Martha play with the three-year-old as he took a sip of his tea while also reading a book about philosophy. He looked at the scene with amazement, reflecting on his own childhood. He never did understand how critical moments like these define a person's character for the rest of their lives. He would hurt when moments like these came and often times shrug them off. That was all apparently behind him now as he simply watched and smiled at the scene.
Aiden continued to read his book, taking a sip of his drink every few pages. He wasn't a slow drinker but he tried to make his needs last as long as possible. He couldn't bring himself to sleep as he another memory of his resurfaced.
This memory consisted of a young reddish-brown eyed boy whom donned a buzz cut. He met this boy at the camp after his country got destroyed and they'd always skip rocks down the river
After a considerable amount of time had passed, he looked in the direction where the 'stupid' girls were supposed to be as he took another sip of his tea. Upon closer inspection, it became immediately apparent to him that they had vanished from sight as they were nowhere to be seen.
Panicking at the notion of them disappearing, Aiden quickly got up from his spot and inspected the perimeter left and right. He looked restlessly, quickly growing anxious and fearful of what might have happened to things weren't easy his sight or at least he never allowed them to for a good reason, so that something like this doesn't happen.
He never did want to find himself in a situation where this can happen to him. It just flat out irked him due to the possibility of something bad could've happened to them. Second guessing everything, he continued to look around endlessly and recklessly, brooding about what how Travis and Cheryl would react to this.
After much search, he had grown fatigued of where to look next. Mentally defeated and physically ailing, Aiden tripped in exhaustion as many thoughts raced in his mind.
Just as he was about to get up and give up, somebody snuck up behind and laughed. He felt arms around his torso and his leg. He heard a voice just behind his ear, "We totally got you".
That voice was familiar. Instantly recognizing who it belonged to, Aiden had little time to react as the girl lifted him up by the underarms, giggling afterwards.
Aiden pointlessly struggled against the taller girl. This girl was a full three inches taller than him while he was dwarfed at five foot one.
Viola grabbed onto his leg tightly.
"You idiot, that wasn't funny", Aiden chided. "What would I tell Madame if something happened to either of you? Where were you?"
"I'll tell you what," Martha said, putting him down. "I'll owe you one just for caring you sensitive boy."
"Fine, whatever", Aiden said, picking up Viola who uttered his name with the lovable lisp in her voice.
"If you must know", Martha added with annoyance, "I took Viola to the doctor for her injury to be addressed and dropped by the church on the way back.
"I see you took your time", Aiden said, irritated at the mentioning of the church. He was annoyed that Martha spent most her time there, almost mindlessly.
"Is something wrong Aiden", Martha said, noticing the thick lines on his forehead as she picked up Viola.
"It's nothing", Aiden responded curtly, "It's getting late, I think we should go home."
With that the trio departed from the park, grabbing anything and everything they brought. They walked down the street and about a few minutes of walking out, Martha made a suggestion, "Aiden, sorry for the short notice but I need to go back to the church, very briefly."
Aiden calmly stated, "Sure why not?"
Taking a detour to the cathedral, Aiden carried a sleeping Viola while Martha addressed her duties.
Quick to succumb to boredom, Aiden sat down on a bench waiting a couple of hours. As it grew more dark, he noticed the moon in its first quarter as the sleeping child in his arms reposition herself.
Becoming increasingly tired of waiting, he became sleepy. He ultimately dozed off himself until a voice pierced his ears.
"Aiden, Aiden", she called out, "Are you home?". She said such things affectionately, ultimately catching his attention.
"So I take it you're done", he bluntly said, as he made sure Viola was asleep.
"Yes, let's go", she said, grabbing his hand, pulling it the rest of the way home.
After some time walking, Aiden brought himself to ask her as he was unable to cope with any longer, "Listen you're a smart and competent girl right?"
Martha turned around at those words, "What's that supposed to mean?", she asked as she quickly changed her answer to a simple 'yes'. Initially she wasn't too fond of his blunt attitude but she grew comfortable with it over time.
Aiden hesitated his next question before finally blurting it out, "I noticed how faithful you are in the convictions the church and I'm just curious as to why you would go so far for such a simplistic idea, as though you are hiding behind it, being needed whenever you need to be?"
Noticing the brutal truth within his words, Martha teared up. Tears poured down each side of her face as her watery eyes met his hollow ones.
Martha was very strong for a girl her age and she rarely cried. This was the first time a boy made her cry and it shamed her greatly not only due to the fact that it happened, but that he saw a layer through her that she subconsciously tried to push down, that she wanted to be needed not needy.
"Listen, I'm sorry.", Aiden said, placing his bandaged hand on her bare shoulder, "I take it back"
"No, you're right", she said, looking at him as the blue glistened past her face, "I can't help but do it Aiden, I feel obligated to ever since..."
"Since", Aiden responded with mild irritation in his voice, it was moments like this that made people questions his emotional capacity.
"My parents died, Aiden", Martha said before running off to a nearby bench, to where he followed.
"They died saving a needy child, me, from a witch.", Martha bawled in sorrow, "I've always been the needy type, a spoiled brat and I've put my faith in the church to teach me that it is better to be needed than to be needy. Those people took me in and changed me for the better. They essentially are my family"
"I know that feeling", he said to her, reflecting on his current situation. He never wanted to rely on anyone, only keep walking forward like the sad hermit he was, "you want to be self-sufficient as much as you can, but Martha you've essentially ceased being human by being too selfless."
"What do you mean?", she retorted.
"There is a difference between selfless and depraved.", Aiden scolded, "By forcing yourself to become too perfect, you're essentially doing what you have to do. If you do things you have to do, and not the things you want to do, then all you are is a machine. You still have that urge of desire but you constantly run from it, and that is what's killing you right now."
Martha slapped Aiden across the face, she couldn't believe the apparent nonsense she heard, "What do you know what I want? All I want to do is help those who need it, help those who cannot help themselves, is that wrong?"
"It isn't", Aiden said, surprisingly calm this time, though unknown to Martha his shadow increased in size.
Soon a storm conjured up and the blissful winds surrounding them were accompanied by glistening drizzle steadily falling above their heads. The rain drenched them.
Martha looked at him with those simple, yet alluring eyes of hers. Aiden swallowed his pride, for the first time he thought she looked beautiful as she sat there in the rain.
"It's ok", Aiden said, looking at the villagers face, drawing her close to him, "In fact, you're lucky stupid girl."
Martha kissed Aiden on the cheek, noticing his acceptance for a useless person like herself.
"Don't overdo it", he said, rubbing his cheek.
"Sorry, but seriously we have to go.", she said, finally noticing the weather, "Mademoiselle and Travis might be worried sick and Viola might even get sick, c'mon."
The two ran into the night with Martha placing a firm grip on the boy's arm as they headed home.
Martha dropped him off as she headed back. A figure shrouded in mystery approached her and took her by the hand as they left.
XxXxXxX
Aiden shielded a shivering Viola from the rain as he ventured inside the Fletcher household. Worried about what will happen, he planned on telling them right here everything about himself. In his eyes, they deserved to at least know if they are to trust a complete stranger or not any longer considering he arrived this late at home.
Before he managed the door, it propelled open on the other side where the worried couple stood on the other side. In his worry, Travis snatched the shivering child from Aiden while Cheryl checked the Aiden's temperature, placing her hand without hesitation on his cheek to do so.
"Thank goodness the both of you are alright?", Cheryl said with her motherly voice as she grabbed the boy's arm. "Where is Martha?", she asked, noticing her absence.
"She turned in for the night. She's at the church.", Aiden responded politely, "Listen mom, I mean madam, I have a confession to make."
Cheryl laughed at this realization before she turned serious, "A confession, about what?"
"About myself, about who I am and where I hail from", Aiden said with a cracking voice, before being interrupted.
"Shhh...", she said, covering his mouth, "If you feel obligated to getting her sick, please don't. You can take your time with your confession, as much as you need. Just calm down and take a deep breath."
"I want to tell you regardless", he said, "I best confess before I take my leave."
"Fair enough", Cheryl responded, as she fixed her messy hair, "But you'll have to wait until Viola finally rests."
After a couple hours of cleaning, medication and weariness in putting the girl to sleep, both Travis and Cheryl sat across from Aiden, who let out a sigh.
"Remember, this will not change our opinion of you whatsoever.", Travis assured, leaning against the sofa.
Taking another breath, Aiden decided to let his life flow through his mouth, "My name is Aiden Tsukada and I am or should I say was 6th in line for the Tsukadan imperial family."
"A Tsukada", Travis responded, "Don't you have a book about them dear?"
Cheryl replied without hesitation, "Yes, they are very well known."
Ignoring what she said, Aiden continued, "My mother heavily abused me and I grew up feeling unwanted. At first it was because I thought I was a bastard child, which is more or less true. But over time I never figured out why until this past year that I'm Norowa or half-Norowa."
Cheryl rushed over to his side as he kept putting information forward. She asked him, "How did you even live in such times?"
"Honestly, up until Travis found me in the forest, I couldn't see memories of my childhood as they were blocked by something. That being said, holes are still present within my memories, just now of these past couple months.", Aiden added.
"So what was it like?", Travis asked, looking back at his own childhood as a hunter's son.
"I had a someone whom I loved more than always kept me smiling. As long as she was there, I could look past all my family's mistakes and abuse.", he said smiling as the blue flow from his eyes, "One day when the palace was destroyed and the country was annihilated, only me and her were left to protect each other."
"What happened to her?", Cheryl asked, shaking him lightly as she hugged him.
"For the longest time, I thought I was alone. But my memories have been changed to think I had no sister. That being said, I have no idea where she currently is, odds are she might be dead.", he recalled, looking at these disappointments.
"Where did you go then?", Cheryl asked, as she started to tear up herself.
"I was taken, or should I stay abducted, by some people and the things that followed afterwards have been the disasters of my life", Aiden said, as he unwrapped his arm, revealing that his arms had been fully restored.
"Your hand?", Travis said, perplexed at this, "I thought it was gone."
"It was", Aiden replied indifferently, "It simply grew back in the span of these few months, though the rest of my injuries shall take time.
"How is this possible?", Travis demanded, suspicious. He did not like believing in the supernatural and he lost his temper at the sight of it.
"Travis, I suggest you go to bed yourself if this is too much for you.", Cheryl requested.
"But I", he insisted.
"Just go, I'll be fine.", she asserted.
"Alright", he said, scratching his head.
With that Travis, unable to process what was going on, turned himself in for the night. Doing so, he left Cheryl with Aiden.
"What happened?", Cheryl said, reassuring the frightened boy.
"They trained me to fight, to take a life, raised me and all for what? To take my humanity away by placing this blasted symbol on me.", he said as it appeared on right cheek. This coupled with the fact that the room was getting increasingly darker would make an outsider question Cheryl's common sense.
Cheryl urged him to calm down, before he would destroy the entire house. She then asked, "How did you get here and why did you quit?"
"I fell in love with someone who turned out to be half-demon. I was so confused that I lashed out at her and tortured her greatly. I hated demons." he stated, looking as confused as he was back then.
"Did she cry Aiden at the sight of her torture and pain you caused her" Cheryl asserted, "If so you're terribly misguided there."
"Am I really?", Aiden stated, "Demons did destroy my home."
"Demons might not have souls Aiden, but it's like you said. She was a half-demon. You're half Tsukada and half Norowa, so you shouldn't hate the thing you're descended from.", she stated.
"Why can't I" he cried, "You wouldn't understand."
"Why wouldn't I?", Cheryl said patiently, "Aiden, she was half-human. You hurt her very badly, where is she now."
"Because as a Norowa, not matter how many good deeds I do, I am guaranteed to drown in that infernal abyss after my death." Aiden complained, his mind losing it at the thought, "I'll never be able to go to the afterlife at all. None of what you read is fiction, it's all fact."
"I'm going to Hell", said Aiden weakly as the grief in his eyes became increasingly more apparent.
"Aiden", Cheryl sighed, ruffling her messy blonde hair, "It's alright, certainly there must be a way that this is invalid."
"Why would you go so far for me Madame?", Aiden said as a black misty amorphous arm came out of his shadow, "Why do you continue to embrace an ugly creature of darkness such as myself?"
"Because you're not a creature of darkness", Cheryl firmly said, slapping the boy, "You're you and nobody else. It's not fate that defines you, it's your choices. You cannot change fate but you can die thinking you have, that is a reward in it of itself."
Aiden stopped crying, and immediately the dark mist encompassing him faded away. "Madame", he uttered once more before she cut him off.
"Regardless of imperfections, I care about you.", she said almost bluntly. She immediately became side tracked at the thought she remembered, "Aiden is everything regarding Azazel and the Nameless true."
"Yes', Aiden said, "Most of it at least."
"Alright, but is it true that every Norowa has one.", Cheryl wondered.
"Most if not all", he responded, "The closer the bloodline the more likely."
"Do you have one?" Cheryl continued, "What are they like?"
"I personally don't know if I do", Aiden said, shivering at the mention of the thing, "But the thought of it scares me to death. They are a living manifestation of Hell as I see it. They'll swallow the victim's souls upon killing them."
"Aiden, is it true that many of the dark arts of the world exist because of Azazel", she asked, more as if to verify than anything.
"Not many, every." Aiden corrected, "Every dark secret of Hell some human beings abuse till this very day because of their foolishness. My ancestor intended for them to be exclusive to Norowas before his tragedy."
"What do you make of him", Cheryl pressed on, "Your ancestor."
"I obviously haven't met the guy.", Aiden snapped, "But I'd say he was a smart but foolish man."
"Aiden where is this girl you mentioned", Cheryl asked, "You have to apologize to her."
"I don't remember.", Aiden said weakly, "That's exactly where my memory fades away. Though I cannot forgot the unforgiving look in her eyes. I hope she..."
"Aiden, you want to know what I see in you that makes you stand out", she asked, caressing his cheek.
"I can probably guess what it would be.", he replied promptly.
"You're a kind child.", she said smiling, "You simply hide it under your actions and attitude."
Surprised that a mere human being saw through this charade of his, Aiden ultimately brought himself to admit it, "I love you, Madame.", placing his head on the woman's lap allowing her to ruffle his hair continuously. His tears drenched the woman's robe as she did this.
"Please you ", she said with a smile, "At least call me mom."
"Mom huh", Aiden thought with a blank expression on his face, "Is this what mother's love actually feels like, unconditional and accepting of your flaws. If it is, I hope this is one dream I never want to wake up from." He turned his head around, looking at the very woman he was thinking of. He was glad to have seemingly found happiness.
Key word being seemingly...
