Chapter 2 - Part 1

The slow bumpy motion of the wagon in the cold morning of early winter brought Haiden into a steady drowse of slight comfort. The pungent smell of worn leather, mron dung, and beyond that his own stench clang to the inside of his nose keeping him from fully dozing off. Which Haiden welcomed with open arms. Since losing the first friend that he has ever made, for which he later realised he held strong feelings for, his sleep was restless and filled with memories. Memories that sometimes he would rather forget just like his past.

It has been almost two months since he was found next to Regor's corpse, and has been on the road since, pushing forward hoping that the grief would be left behind, eventually, but that moment never came. Being constantly on the road he didn't have the time to worry about looking and smelling decent. His hair was the biggest problem in his opinion. The pure black clump of oily hair stuck to his face creating the appearance that of a vagrant. As bathing was rare during a trip and his skin itched from the filth, he could hardly wait to get himself into a hot bath once he'd settle in the Academy in Elo'yn.

His heart panged with pain every time he thought of a new life, one which Regar wasn't apart of.

Soft yeeps and animal whistles that directed the large mron, tickled Haiden's ears with familiarity. For nearly two months he has been on the road with only the raggedy dressed coachman from Avlan named Hager and Biny as company. Haiden avoided any other human contact during their stops along the way. The fear of hurting someone else made him reclusive and silent. However, he enjoyed Hager's company, a simple quiet man in his thirties -not too bad on the eyes- with the habit of frequenting whore houses. It wasn't uncommon for a man of his profession, being away for long periods of time from home didn't really advertise well as spouse material, and the man's creed implied bedding everywoman in The Empire, but that was another aspect of his undesirability.

The coachman gently whipped the massive mron with a long thin stick as a makeshift crop to keep the big animal in line. This breed in particular sported legs rather too fine in comparison to its thick torso, giving it a wonky appearance. Quite different from the stocky breed from the province of Yn'lan. Haiden grew fond of the old unusual mron the coachman called Biny, it loved to roll over in road dust at every opportunity. And it often reminded him of Dusty, which led, of course, to Regor which would then spiral into a vicious dark hole of self-hate and regret. This additional loss at his hands, apart from that of his parents and those in the store at the time of the accident, drove him to develop new issues with wielding and strengthen those he had prior.

We should be reaching Elo'yn soon, Haiden thought still keeping his eyes shut trying to savor each moment between dreaming and wakefulness. It was the only moment where Regor's face and Dusty's burnt corpse didn't haunt him. His mind was being kept hostage by something else entirely. There was always something that drifted to and away from him, a dream that lay on the edge of his mind that captured all of his attention. Every time he reached for it his sense of reality grew stronger and when he ignored it, it lingered just beyond reach. It was like a word stuck on the tip of his tongue or a face long forgotten that he couldn't place a name on. The constant tug of war was one of the many troubles that kept him from resting his mind.

Blue morning light cast its dim shine on Haiden's pallid complexion through the small window. The wagon didn't offer much space to rest so, Haiden laid in an awkward position with his legs up on his small trunk he bought from Avlan filled with a few belongings. It didn't hold much, dirty clothes that were of a larger size, a few satchels of tea, and a melted piece of round metal with a hole in the middle that wasn't of any value to anyone else besides Haiden. Remnants, reminders, souvenirs he didn't know what to call them, but he could not bring himself to toss his late companion's belongings.

After giving up on his few spare moments of rest, he opened his amber eyes and stared blankly at the hard wood trunk as the wagon took a few bumps. His eyes moistened at the thought of the contents of the trunk, and with a quiver of his mouth he sworn that he would no longer let his inability to control his power be the reason for lost lives. Hoping there was a way to make up for his many sins, which he had kept in his mind ever since. He wiped away at his eyes with the sleeve of his thick winter coat.

The accident that had left Haiden with severe memory loss was, from what he could recalled, horrific, but he could hardly place any emotion behind the people he lost in the fire. The emptiness of knowing he lost his parents was there and nothing more. In contrast, Regor's death tore at his guts with every remembrance.

Probably, it's because of the many memories both good and bad I shared with Regor, he thought. Haiden grew to harbor strong emotions, he'd even called it love at some point, for his lost companion during the time spent together, but he could not help himself. The abrupt ending of Regor's life had left a deep mark on his soul and heart.

Haiden often tried to contemplate the issue of his nonsensical feelings towards the two events that changed his life, but they always culminated in deep confusion and pain. Why would he mourn the loss of his lost companion, even if he did loved the man, but not the people that gave him life? He could not place any feeling behind the accident except for that of horror of what he was capable of. More pieces were falling in place as time passed and he could better recall the memory of what happened. But it always came at a cost. The pain and vertigo that ensued when he tried to access the distant memory always overtook him at a point and he fell unconscious.

Two men defiled the sacred space of the shop he once called home, they were distant friends of the family, he remembers. It was well known that they owed a lot of coin to some ruthless men. As Haiden stood in the doorway, he saw one of the thugs holding a knife to his mother's throat and the other searching for the money bag they kept well-hidden with all of their savings. His heartbeat quickened and one of his usual violent head pains arose like wild fire in a summer dry forest, it had been worse than usual. When the one holding the knife noticed Haiden, he jerked his mother dragging the blade on the nape of her throat letting a dark red rivulet of blood escape. He remembers the woman whimpering.

He remembers the thug warning him not to move but in distress Haiden tried to reach out to his mother. His vision blurred by the vivid pain and pressure that was amassing at an alarming pace, all he could do was drop to the ground with his head in his hands letting out a yelp from the pain. The other thug booted Haiden in the face, and he fell backwards, he could hear was his mother's cry and his father's cussing. He remembers clearly as day, the next words that brought out the fury inside, that released him of the pain and pressure that was building inside of his head.

"Kill the bitch, Dreg. Quit fuckin'round and do'er in." The thug said annoyed at his mother's yelling. "Tired of hearing her moan, all she did was gossip 'bout us and now she wants mercy. Hear that?"

Haiden was on the floor with a bloodied nose looking desperately at them, words escaped him as the pressure and pain in his head became unbearable. A high pitch built in his ears and ended with a pop. His skin crackled with static and he could feel pins and needles in his limbs. The pressure was too great, he could not hold it any longer, so he had to finally let go.

Peace followed. No more pain, no more pressure. The air shimmered and danced in all directions. A deafening quiet that lasted mere moments was then followed by clashing waves of flame spreading from and around him. Everything was engulfed by heat, the shouts of the thugs and those of his parents were drowned by the roar of flame. He felt exhilaration, freedom and dread as he soon realized his parents were caught in whatever it was that he unleashed. His own cry was then extinguished by blackness.

Haiden played this scene so many times in his head he'd grown accustomed to the pain but, if he pressed any further, to remember anything beyond that moment, he'd black out almost immediately. All of his memories gone but a few between which this one blazed like the inferno he created. It felt strange. He recognized the people as his parents, but deep down, deeper than the mere regret, guilt and monstrosity of the act that he'd done he felt no more than sympathy for those who died.

No, those I killed, he corrected himself. Something just wasn't right, he needed answers. He was promised as he grew more powerful and learned, he will be able to remember everything. He would be able to properly mourn the loss of his parents and honor them in memory. So, he had accepted the offer to go to Elo'yn and train as wielder at the Academy and maybe he could actually make amends for his sins.

Hager tapped the wooden backrest of his seat and with a sigh Haiden closed his eyes again and welcomed the distraction.

"Master Haiden!" Coachman Hager called. "Betta' wake up, now, lad. I can see the Lady of Red's ol'big ones on the main gate. Ya'd wan'to see this, lad. It'd give ya quite the stiffer. Nottin' more beautiful than morning sun on a pair of tits , I tell ya."

Haiden was accustomed to the man's crass attitude regarding the female figure and paid him no mind. He decided to stop wallow in self-pity stuck his head out the only window of the wagon, and saw green farmland tended by slaves along lanky mrons and few other farm animals. As Haiden traveled further South the presence of slaves grew. It made him uneasy to see the way these people are treated. Chained up and beaten to the whims of their masters, it sickened to even hear people call him master but he had no choice but to respect the traditions of this part of The Empire.

Up ahead flimsy houses built from what it looked like scavenged materials appeared scattered at first then slowly congregated by the thousands. Shoeless children ran and played on the dirt road and scantily dressed women waved at every passing living creature. Haiden eyed the women displaying their womanhood freely, uninterested he turned his gaze gaining a little color in his cheeks. Hager on the other hand let out a whistle enjoying the view.

In the distance the vast city of Elo'yn laid with its white tall walls and looming figure of a voluptuous woman wrapped in a red cloth with her breasts naked, jutting from the waist up just above the huge entrance. It stood tall, hundreds of paces above the already great wall. The statue opened her arms to the outside in welcoming of any who dare enter her grounds - It was awe inspiring; the level of detail increased as they approached.

People, mostly merchants, came and went freely through the gates with the odd thug and beggar here or there. Hager pulled up the wagon near the outside wall at a small station.

"'ere'ya go, Master Haiden. Allow me to acquaint you with the city of Elo'yn" Hager spread his arms wide mimicking the statue above the city walls. "Now, got meself some busines just outside town. Have m'eye on a pretty redhead over there. Up and does it, now." He said tying Biny to a pole.

"Aye, thank you." Haiden said and got his trunk and backpack. Once everything was unloaded, he realized that he would be alone and no clue which direction to head to. "Wait, do you know here the Academy is?"

Hager replied with a deep shrug. "Beats me, lad. I was only paid enough for a trip to the city walls not to act as tourist guide." He patted gently the mron's slim jaw, letting it nuzzle his hand with his vertical slit mouth and left towards a run-down cot that had thinly dressed woman at the door which waved to Hager.

Annoyed and clueless Haiden approached the gate, the smell of exotic species and animals from the merchants filled the air. The two guards dressed in light leather armor were situated at each side of the tall gate didn't even bother to glance at him as they were busy with checking a sketchy man with light brown skin, jet black hair and towered above everyone else. The man kept pointing at a piece of paper and yelling some nonsense.

Must be a drunk, he thought and moved passed them. Once on the other side of the walls Haiden saw wooden and stone houses, taverns and small enterprises, even impromptu placed tables with all sorts of colorful and shiny objects meant to attract tourist attention. The contrast was apparent. What lay beyond the white walls of Elo'yn were mere slums made out of scavenged materials, and inside the city walls was order. Everything seemed to follow the same aesthetic of curved dark rooftops and white buildings.

The main street was fairly straight, and he could see into the far distance of the city, there were hundreds of buildings on either side of the road which was lined with huge. now naked, trees which he was sure would make nice cool shade in the summer. Haiden was overwhelmed by the sheer vastness of the City. Being brought up in the southern province of Yn'lan he had lived in a small village of a hundred people at its best, even with the little memories he had of the village, the difference was enough to stun him. Haiden stood frozen, admiring the sights and smells. Grilled meat and sweet spices, strong ale and fresh mud intertwined with the stench of animals and sweat. The smell was intoxicating and overwhelmingly new. The alluring smells of street food made his stomach grumble in anticipation, but the lack of coin gave him no option but wait until he reached his destination. Surely, he'd be greeted with warm food and bath, he thought.

"Move out the way, mongrel." A fat man in colorful winter garb said looking in disgust at Haiden. "I said move, damn it!" placing his hands on Haiden's back he shoved him to the side and moved past him.

"Oi! You watch it, you dick'ead!" Haiden shouted disgruntled at the fat man's back and then looked at the mess of his clothes. He now was covered with mud.

"If I only had my whip I'd..." the fat man snorted while walking away.

Haiden now sported a brown wet mess on the back of his dark green winter coat. The back of his black hair was caked in mud and face spattered. The city might be a sight to behold, however its people seemed to be on the other spectrum of pleasant. But Haiden definitely was not above getting even.