FATELESS: A Boy’s Bonds

Guilty

 

In civilized society, a man is innocent until proven guilty. The responsibility of providing your guilt lies on the shoulders of those who are claiming you are guilty. Now, that isn’t to say this system is flawless.

Nobles with enough influence can easily see someone executed for a crime they didn’t commit, or something so inconsequential that the majority of judges would simply look the other way.

But it’s the best system that we’ve managed to come up with, in spite of its various flaws. It's a system that’s meant to ensure that everyone has equal rights. Much of Geimhread, however, is not what’s considered civilized society.

Flykra in particular is so far away from the major cities that most have never set eyes upon a genuine soldier. They live in ignorance of the outside world, leading simple unassuming lives before being claimed by bland deaths that mirror the lives they led.

So, when someone is said to be guilty for a crime in a place like this—what happens to them? The case is not passed into the hands of lawmen, but the very same ignorant populace.

Once I’d regained my composure, Zakarot decided to cut short the training session on account of my bleeding eyeballs and splitting migraine. Someone would probably come looking for me soon enough, assuming that they hadn’t already.

It wouldn’t do to have my frost-flinging mother angry with me.

We crossed through the village’s meager wooden border, passed some of the outer homes, and chatted about one thing or another while making our way home. The streets were mostly barren, through the bustling of spring-time activity could be heard from deeper in. Carefully looping around to make space between myself and the distant hubbub, I threaded through some more deserted pathways.

Flykra may not be a large village, but humans are social creatures by nature. In a close knit village like this, they’re more likely to be drawn toward the sound of their neighbors than wander alone like me.

Zakarot followed somewhere behind, invisible to all eyes but my own. When his voice came from behind my right shoulder, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Hey, Zavis?”

“What?” I asked, rubbing my temples.

“Duck.”

I looked up, eyes narrowing, and surveyed the sky insearch of fowl.

The stone came from behind, whistling through the air before colliding with the back of my head. I yelped in surprise, ducked down after the fact, and brought a hand to the tender spot. It didn’t hurt much, but had surprised me such that I whipped around with a face that probably looked less-than-intimidating.

There was a stone lying on the ground nearby, maybe half the size of my fist. My gaze trailed upward, from the dirt to the sound of approaching footsteps.

A trio of older boys stalked towards me, led by a familiarly plump swordsman wearing a fierce expression. The village chief’s grandson—Dav—had forgone the leather armor for a simple outfit that seemed to strain over his huge chest and biceps. Though it was clear that he was more meat than muscle.

Meat was still intimidating, though.

Sure, there are probably some scrawny mages and warriors beyond the village who could lay him flat, but fights between simple lowbloods usually come down to who’s bigger and stronger. Unless you’re trained enough to take them down before the larger opponent can get their hands on you.

In case you haven’t noticed, I was not.

A little whisper in the back of my head told me to run.

‘Run, you idiot.’

I ignored it. Not because I couldn’t feel the anxious butterflies fluttering around inside my stomach, but because running from a tubby teenager wouldn't be a great start to this journey of mine.

Compared to Anika or that flaming Apostle, these guys didn’t seem all that threatening. Which wouldn’t stop them from bashing my nose through my skull, but it was enough to help me stand my ground.

“You!” Dav shouted, pointing a finger at me that seemed larger than my forearm. “Stay where you are!”

I wasn’t planning on moving, and fought the urge to roll my eyes. Subtly, my gaze flicked over to Dav’s two goons. The one flanking his left wasn’t familiar, a lanky rapscallion with hair short enough to have practically been bald.

I did recognize the other, however, and felt a familiar bitterness.

He was small like me, but made of wired muscle that constricted whenever he moved. One of my brother’s friends, and my former best-friend. Theo.

He’d changed quite a bit from when we’d used to play together. Back then, the two of us took after one another. Meaning that Theo was as much a scrawny bookworm as I was.

That changed after Abel’s blessing manifested, and the boy became obsessed with earning my brother’s approval.

The boys came up to me, all three glaring down at me with obvious hostility. It surprised me, honestly. Most of Flykra’s youths either ignored me or didn’t want to get close enough to exchange greetings. I had stopped trying to make friends with them after the last group used me to get closer to Abel, then abandoned me afterward.

This trio was made up of fighters, all three being prime candidates to round out the village’s next guard roster alongside Abel and the others.

Though none were carrying weapons.

Dav came to a stop, kicking dirt at my shins as he did so. The others crossed their arms, straightened their backs, and did their best to appear threatening. We all waited for someone else to speak.

Unfortunately for the delinquents, I was somewhat of an expert when it came to not speaking unless absolutely necessary. The large boy eventually grew bored and huffed.

“Ya got somethin’ to answer for, Invidia.”

I lifted my brows, and waited for him to continue. Dav clearly wasn’t the sharpest tool in the proverbial shed, so it took some time for him to come up with the right words. When they came, he probably gave himself a mental pat on the back.

As I waited, a smile crossed my face. An attempt to appear non-threatening. It wasn’t a familiar action for me, as I hadn’t had much to smile about recently. I felt my cheeks twitch in response, and the boys reeled in surprise.

Baldy leaned forward and whispered to their leader. “He’s fixin’ to try something, Dav.”

Theo nodded his agreement.

Is my smile really so threatening?

I smoothed over my expression, and the boys visibly relaxed. Except for Dav, who was still standing straight as a board, shoulders stooped to make himself look even bigger than he was. Which seemed like a ridiculously unnecessary action.

I was reminded of a bear standing on its hind legs to scare away a squirrel.

“Is there a problem?” I asked innocently.

“You killed Mrs. Beckett!” Dav snarled.

Jumping right into it, then.

“I didn’t kill her,” I replied.

“He’s lyin’,” said Baldy.

Theo remained silent, the most openly apprehensive of the group. He stood at the rear, keeping watch and routinely shooting glares in my direction. Though I noted that my former friend did his best to avoid my gaze.

Was there some lingering guilt there in spite of my brother’s blessing?

“I know he’s lying,” Dav replied.

Baldy nodded. “You’re right, boss. Good thinkin’.”

Dav nodded, satisfied with the praise.

I stifled the urge to groan.

Gods, these boys had the collective intelligence of a blade of grass. The fact that they were speaking in mostly complete sentences was really a miracle of divine proportions. Suddenly I realized how foolish my desires to be friends with the village’s boys had been.

And I couldn’t even fathom how someone as articulate as Theo put up with them.

Dav ignored his goons and continued. ‘Ya threw her from a cliff and left her to die. Everyone knows what happened, but ain’t no-one wanna cross your family. They’re good people.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’m actually expected back home, so…”

The boys each took another step forward, while I mimicked their movements in reverse. I licked my lips in apprehension, weighing my options. Running probably wouldn’t get me very far. Dav was unlikely to keep up but the others seemed athletic enough to do so.

Maybe I could find some adults to help me, but there was always the possibility that I’d run into someone else who was convinced that I was guilty.

Dav was everything I wasn’t, my walking-talking opposite. He was looming while I was short, wide where I was slim, and physically stronger than I was likely ever to be. His dark hair was short, cut into the shape of a bowl, and his pockmarked flesh was as bronzed as one’s could be in the overcast northern province.

He moved while I was lost in thought, faster than I’d expected. When his comparatively huge boot flew towards me, I did my best to dodge away.

Too late, too slow.

Dav kicked me in the hip, sending me sprawling backward into the dirt. I yelped as the wounds hidden beneath my clothes blazed, undulating pain that cut my breath short.

“Fuckin’ murderer,” he said.

Baldy snickered, nodding to himself. “Yeah, freak! Get ‘im, Dav!”

Theo fixed his eyes on something in the distance, doing his best to ignore what was happening.

With the generic bully dialogue out of the way, Dav clenched his fists just as I clambered back to my feet. I stood up, legs shaking, and faced my opponent. That was the first time anyone in the village had hit me.

I’d suffered years of heartache due to the villagers, but that was caused by their words. Insults that cut deeper than skin, fueling my growing self-deprecation. None had raised their hands to hit me, instead opting to whisper behind my back.

Things were escalating, and the old Zavis assuredly would have stayed lying in the dirt, curled into a sniveling little ball. But Dav wasn’t even close to the scariest thing I’d seen lately.

Of course, there was no way to beat him in a physical fight. And it wasn’t like I could use magic since that could kill them, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to lay down and take it. If he was planning to break me, I wouldn’t make it easy for him.

Dav sneered down at me, ready to start throwing fists, when I surprised him by speaking up. “I’m going to assume that you think this is some kind of justice, right?”

One of his lackeys responded in his place. “Damn right!”

“What would the chief think of this, Dav?” I asked him.

The larger boy blinked at me, smoke practically billowing out of his ears while struggling to process my words. After a couple breaths of silence, Dav smiled, displaying rows of crooked teeth. “Be hard to tell ‘im from the bottom of a cliff, eh?”

My stomach dropped.

I felt sweat form along the ridge of my spine and involuntarily stepped back. Up until then, I’d assumed that these boys just wanted to show me a lesson. Leave a few scratches, some bruises, and call it a day.

Never had it crossed my mind that they would be willing to kill me.

Evidently, it seemed that Theo was feeling the same way. His eyes widened, and he looked over at Dav hesitantly.

Baldy was probably too stupid to understand the implication.

A fist that seemed larger around than some tree trunks slammed into my stomach, and I doubled over. Something rose from within, burning at my throat, and proceeded to spew out onto the ground and Dav’s leather boots.

Dav made a disgusted noise. I coughed, gagged, and looked up through watery eyes to find the same boot being launched toward my face.

I turned away just in-time to prevent a broken nose. The world went white, though not in the same way as before. Pain erupted across one side of my face, and my left cheek felt like it was on fire. The force of Dav’s blow sent me down and back into the dirt, shock gripping me as everything spun in circles.

I could hear jeering from the sidelines, and caught a glimpse of sunlight glinting off a mostly-bald head.

Copper filled my mouth, a flavor that I had recently become intimately familiar with. Bringing a hand to my cheek revealed a swollen lump near my cheekbone. My head was spinning and my ears were ringing, I felt disoriented and confused. I tried to get up, but my legs felt weak and I stumbled.

Dav loomed over me, but most of what was happening was lost on me. My jaw hurt so much that my mouth wouldn’t open.

A flurry of movement. More pain. My ribs, this time. I hoped that nothing broke, because more broken bones didn’t seem like a fun time. I threw both arms out in-front of my face and caught another kick that seemed intended to bash my teeth in.

This wasn’t a stupid game, nor was it an ill-conceived prank. These dimwits were convinced that I had murdered a villager, an innocent woman in a gruesome manner. Maybe they weren’t completely wrong, but…

Dav was ready to seriously hurt, if not kill me.

Kicks and heavy stomps rained down on me, impacting upon my forearms and abdomen. More bile spilled out from between my lips, turned somewhat scarlet with blood.

My blood.

Baldy joined the fray, taking turns, Dav moving away and allowing him to get some shots in. I didn’t know what Theo was doing, but he never joined in.

I didn’t scream, nor cry.

The blows continued in earnest and I silently took each one, feeling pain wrack at my already battered body. But the sight of my blood changed something. It was like a part of me had been awakened, the part of ourselves that dictates whether to flee or fight.

There was no running away for me, not in my state. Irrepressible anger boiled to the surface, dulling the impacts as fury and adrenaline took hold.

Targeted by an evil proto-deity, hunted by a madwoman, thrown from a cliff…

Only to be beaten to death by a bunch of dimwitted delinquents?

My face was swollen, blood streamed down my face, and my aching body screamed in resistance as I rose from the ground. Every movement was pain, but nothing compared to the blanket of torture that I’d felt mere days prior. No, these boys had no idea what real pain was.

They were sheltered, ignorant, and believed themselves to be strong. I wondered what their faces would be like when the Apostle came to burn them alive, and rose to one knee.

Being savagely attacked twice within as many days made me realize something. That this world I’d only seen from the other side of a bedroom window was cruel. Yet surprisingly so, so simple. There were two types of people: predators and prey.

Those who revel in the pain of others, and those lacking the strength to fight back. If this was what the world was like, then everything made sense.

Dav, the Apostles, the Demiurge. They were bullies, predators. All I had to do to beat them was become better at their own game, which meant becoming stronger than them.

Taking out the threats before they could take me out. Power was at the heart of everything, and it’d been my dream for so long.

My blood ran cold, and something just clicked inside of me. I heard chattering like a hundred beetles crawling across stone, and each breath formed a stark white plum. Dav and Baldy apparently didn’t notice the change, instead opting to continue beating on me. Theo, however, took an apprehensive step backward.

“Guys?” he said, trying to catch their attention. “I think there’s something happening.”

He was afraid. Good. Another blow flew toward my face, and I caught it upon the flat of my arm. Baldy stumbled, nearly falling onto his ass in the dirt soaked in my sweat, tears, and blood. I looked up at Dav, finding his eyes round as saucers, but he wasn’t staring at me.

His attention was focused on something in the distance. I watched him slap Baldy’s shoulder, and they both took several steps away from me.

I pushed myself up from the ground. Hurried footsteps echoed from down the path, and I looked up expecting to see a concerned adult or maybe one of my family members.

My father would give them the scolding of a lifetime, at worst, and my mother would have had them pissing their pants. Even Lara could have used her charms to get the trio to back off away from me.

When Abel came into view, I almost fell back down.

My elder brother looked like he’d been on his way back from training, as his sword hung loosely at his side and jangled as he jogged toward us. His hair was tousled which only made him look more like our father, and I could feel his eyes upon me.

“Dav? Karl?” Abel asked, looking on in apparent confusion. Next his attention shifted toward my former friend, who wouldn't meet either of our gazes. “Theo? What’s happening here?”

It’s pretty obvious, you idiot.

None of them responded, glancing anxiously between us. Abel scowled, brows furrowed, and shook his head. “King’s breath…”

He came closer, doing a once-over of my wounds, before wrapping a muscular arm around my shoulders. I hadn’t realized it beforehand but keeping upright was actually quite difficult. Though a significant part of me wanted to shove him away, the strength to do so was missing.

“Zavis? You alright?” he asked, guiding me over to a nearby building and setting me down beside it. “Can you hear me?

I grunted in response, denying him the satisfaction of a genuine answer.

That’ll show him.

Abel reared back and faced Dav, who was standing at the head of his group. The larger boy dwarfed him, but the atmosphere of the scene may have had you second-guessing yourself. My brother had just beaten Dav in-front of the whole village, and he was the only one present with a weapon.

My assaulters sank away under his harsh gaze. “Did you all do this? Dear gods, what were you all thinking?”

Dav looked at the others for assistance, but upon seeing that they were just short of running away, took it upon himself to answer. “I—We…I mean, that frea—your brother, ah, killed Mrs. Beckett, so…”

“So you were planning on doing what? Returning the favor?”

None responded.

Abel scoffed. “Idiots. Get out of here before I fetch my father.”

They ran.

Though as Theo faded from view, he turned around. Our eyes met. Something in mine must have frightened him because his expression changed into one of raw terror before rushing to join his friends.

I sat on the ground, back against the solid wall behind me, watching with impassivity. My head was pounding, the left side of my face feeling like one giant bruise. Abel came over and did something, probably checking to see if any of my previous wounds had reopened, and then sighed.

“Picking fights already?” Abel asked. “I thought you’d be avoiding trouble after that disaster in the woods.”

And just like that, clarity returned to me long enough to glare up at my brother.

I was on the verge of snapping at him, wondering how he could possibly blame me for all of this. His friends had just tried to kill me and the self-centered jackass was saying it was my fault?

The nerve he had to possess to say something like that astounded me, and I knew that telling my family about this would put him in the dog house. Perhaps literally.

To my surprise, Abel shied away from my glare. He looked down anxiously, and I followed his stare to where my hands rested at my sides. White mist curled from the fingertips, tracking thin trails of frost across the ground. I frowned, lifting a hand and waving it in-front of my face. The mist followed, coiling serpents that seemed to be part of my body.

What is this…?

“That…” A shadow appeared behind my brother, hooded and bleak. “Is talent.”

A smile spread across my face, no doubt a terrifying sight considering that I was bleeding and bruised.

“Do as we practiced,” Zakarot said. “Use your Sense, find the ley-line you have opened, and seal it tight. You’re not in any danger; there’s barely any power coming through.”

I nodded wearily at the man that only I could see, closing my eyes. A magic-user’s Sense isn’t the same as seeing ley-lines, as it requires using your brain instead of eyeballs. Regardless, the colorful tapestry from earlier returned in my mind’s eye and I sifted through the white-blue ley-lines until finding one that put off more power than the rest. Imagining a gloved hand reaching for the ley-line, I grabbed ahold of the wintry banner and squeezed.

The mist vanished, some of which falling to the ground in flakes. I heard Abel breathe a sigh of relief. When I looked back at him, his face was very pale. Similar to how Theo had looked before fleeing.

“Do you need help getting back?” he asked.

My eyes narrowed, regarding my brother with suspicion. When I tried to speak, the pain in my jaw returned twofold and settled with a quick shake of my head. Using the wall behind me as support, I stood up and wobbled for a moment before gaining my bearings.

Abel followed suit, and looked down at me with an expression that I couldn’t quite place. My glare had never really disappeared, still irritated that he’d had the audacity to blame his bleeding little brother for all of this.

“Right, well…” Abel frowned, staring past me. “Try not to start anything on the way back. Mother’s probably looking for you.”

I nodded, and turned to put my brother behind me.

Then I froze. Shit…

“Yeah, she probably Sensed that,” Zakarot said. “Might want to get back before she goes on a rampage.”

A numbness took hold, anxiety greater than when faced with the soles of Dav’s enormous boot. Almost reluctantly, I left Abel behind, stumbling along the well-trodden path towards home, and our assuredly angry mother.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed in me, something ugly having taken root. Maybe it’d always been there, that lust for power and burning envy that Zakarot had criticized me for. I couldn’t even deny that while my goal was to save my family from the Apostles, the allure of becoming a powerful magic-user appealed to all of my childhood fantasies.

Now I had another reason to need it. To show people like Dav that I’m not one to be kicked on the ground, to be so strong that none can treat me like that again. To stand at the top of the world and stare down at the bugs who once cursed me. It scared me at the time, realizing such ugly feelings were inside of me.

All-the-while, Zakarot followed behind.

Silent, and seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

A NOTE FROM BUZZERS