FATELESS: A Boy’s Bonds

A New Story

After leaving Abel’s room, I returned to my own and removed the pack from my shoulders. Flicking it open, I searched through the contents one last time.

Inside was all of the supplies I’d taken from my room, as well as Mother’s old gear. Everything was accounted for, save for perhaps the most important essentials. I dug my nails into the cool leather surface, realizing that this pack would be my life from now on.

As soon as I left Flykra Village, I would be on my own. The responsibility of surviving would fall solely on my shoulders. Because my only companion didn’t actually have shoulders.

Physical ones, that is.

Zakarot was urging me to leave, voice echoing through my head impatiently. Instead, I waited with my pack to ensure that Abel wouldn't come out. After some time, I decided that he really had fallen asleep. All because I mentioned books.

What a guy.

“What now?” I whispered, slinging the pack back over my shoulders.

‘What are you whispering for?’ Zakarot asked. ‘You can talk to me telepathically, you know.’

My eyes slid over my room anxiously, even though I knew there was nothing left for me–I’d taken everything needed for the road. But I had spent the majority of my self-induced isolation in this room, reading and fantasizing of one day leaving Flykra Village behind.

I hadn’t had one of those dreams since the summer festival.

It was no longer a fantasy. I was leaving Flykra, but out of necessity. To save my family and the villagers who’d scorned me, I would leave and protect them. Faced with a seemingly insurmountable challenge–I would live the life I’d always wanted.

My gaze settled upon my cherished bookshelves, hoping that my parents wouldn’t throw them out. Or sell them, knowing my father. There were many I hadn’t read yet.

Reluctantly pulling myself away, I left my sanctuary behind.

“Let’s get going, Zakarot.”

The spirit was silent as we walked through my childhood home, for possibly the last time. I glanced at three sets of marks in the living room door frame, where Father had once kept track of our respective heights.

There was a dent in the far wall from when Abel tried showing off his swordsmanship indoors. Faint scribbles marred one portion of the room’s wooden floor, washed away by time and much water; I remembered doing it to gain my parents’ attention.

I breathed in deeply, inhaling the comforting aroma of whitebloom, allowing the mint to calm my nerves. It made him think of a mother who would return to a missing child. I would apologize someday, but for now, I was just glad she would be safe.

And before I realized it, I was standing in-front of the front door.

Its small metal handle called out to me, but my slim fingers hesitated. I couldn’t help but stare at the soft, unblemished skin of my hands. The flesh on each hand lacked the callouses I could feel on my father’s, brother’s, and even mother’s.

Another reminder that I wasn’t prepared for this.

What would these hands look like in a month’s time? In a year’s time?

‘Zavis?’

Nodding silently, I slipped a hand into my pocket and grabbed a small folded paper. Inside the paper was a final message to my family. There wasn’t much written, but I’d spent hours trying to find the right words.

In the letter, I thanked them for everything they’d done for me. I apologized for leaving so abruptly, promising to return one day. Most importantly, I pleaded for them not to follow me. My departure was no fault of their own, and they shouldn’t feel responsible. Therefore, my last wish was for them to respect my wishes and allow me the freedom to find my own way.

I placed the letter beside a framed painting, the wooden frame hand-crafted by my father. The artwork showed our family sitting somewhere in the village, and judging by the lights, it was during one of the previous spring festivals. I’d been quite young at the time, and couldn't remember when it had been.

Etching each of my family members’ faces into my mind so that I wouldn’t forget them, I focused primarily on Lara. I wished to talk to my sister one more time before leaving, but had no idea where she was.

The letter would have to do.

I turned back to the door and clutched the doorknob.

‘Where are you going? You’re going to walk out of the village in broad daylight?’

Once again, my hand stopped before turning the knob.

I’d gotten so caught up in the moment that I forgot an important detail. The incident with Anika Beckett had caused all of the villagers to become suspicious of me. There was no way to leave the village without attracting attention, perhaps even my family’s.

“What do you propose, then?” I asked, glancing back toward Abel’s room.

‘I’m going to show you another trick.’

Interest piqued, I motioned for the spirit to continue. The village chief liked to talk, and so did Father, but the meeting likely wouldn’t last as long on account of my mother’s suspicions. We needed to go.

‘Having spent your entire life trying to go unnoticed, why don’t you try that now? Focus on those moments and picture yourself walking through the village, completely invisible.’

Frowning, I shrugged and did as he was told. One’s own life experiences often played an important role in how fit they were for using certain types of magic. In my case, I was likely going to be a skilled cryomancer due to my northern upbringing.

Thinking back to my lessons with Zakarot, I controlled my breathing and closed my eyes.

It was more difficult than expected.

I was full of anxious, nervous thoughts. It was like trying to focus on a single snowflake during a blizzard. Nevertheless, I continued to concentrate on my past.

Walking through the village beneath the villagers’ judgemental glares. Afraid of being called out, terrified of making things worse. I’d willingly become a blacksheep. Wasting away in my small bedroom, book-in-hand, I sought to leave this world behind.

I became a ghost.

‘Step outside.’

My hand reached for the doorknob, but flinched back. A cloud of..something…covered my fingers, hand, and arm. Looking down, I noticed that the cloud clung to my entire body like a shimmering cocoon. A field of lavender light, made of small floating nodes.

“What…?” I waved my hand around, watching as the nodes swam after my fingers like a swarm of hungry fish.

‘It’s another skill I can let you borrow; I call it ‘Spirit Shroud’. It'll keep non-animancers from seeing you. I would caution against using it for extended periods, however. Potential backlash aside, there’s a slight possibility of becoming stuck between worlds.’

“Stuck?”

‘Oh, yeah, real nasty. So let’s get a move on, shall we? I’m not sure how long you can keep Spirit Shroud up.’

“Is that the real name of the spell or did you just make it up?”

‘No time for that. Onward!’

Scoffing, I cautiously opened the front door and instinctively shielded my eyes. It was a nice spring day, and the sun shone bright in the light gray sky. Geimhread’s climate was something I definitely wouldn’t miss.

To my surprise, however, the sun’s brilliant rays weren’t nearly as bright as I’d expected. In-fact, all of the world’s colors were somewhat muted. It wasn’t quite like using Spirit Sight–likely another one of Zakarot’s original names, in hindsight–but I could still tell that I was viewing things partially through a spirit’s eyes.

The ley-lines were also missing, but I supposed that it would make Spirit Sight useless otherwise.

This would only be my second attempt at using animancy outside, and this time, I was determined to keep both eyes to the ground.

I slowly closed the door behind me, noticing that my sense of touch was somewhat muted as well, and entered the outside world. The beginning of our journey.

Of course, we weren’t planning on leaving Flykra Village quite yet.

Afterall, my pack was still empty of the most important essentials. I didn’t want to wander through the foreign wilderness without food and water.

My memory of the village’s layout was a bit shaky, but I had a vague idea of where we were headed. Many villagers stood around me, some of which staring at our front door. They’d definitely seen the door open and close itself.

They had no way of knowing that I was there, but I was certain that they’d find a way to blame me regardless.

Aside from that, the Shroud seemed to be working as intended. I walked beside a village boy and waved my arms. The boy didn’t spare me a single glance, instead focused on slaughtering bugs at his feet. Perhaps this village had more than an Apostle to worry about in the future.

Potential murderers aside, I made my way toward our destination.

The small shed-like building was located near the chief’s home. Unlike the rest of the nearby structures, which were primarily made of wood, this shed was built from crude stone. It was an extra measure to make sure the rations within wouldn’t spoil, as the shed served as Flykra Village’s communal storehouse.

With Geimhread’s winters being as they were, the entire community was forced to support their neighbors. Extra resources were kept in this storehouse and reserved for emergencies. It was typically managed by the chief and could only be used when a certain number of village officials approved, but I thought that this counted as an emergency.

After treating me like trash for years, this was the least they could do for me.

The only problem was that the storehouse’s door was sealed by a heavy iron padlock that required a rather large key. There were only two copies of the key, one owned by the chief himself, and the other owned by a man whose name I couldn’t bother remembering.

In all honesty, I'd been planning on using Abel’s stolen sword to break the lock, but that plan was clearly off the table. Thus, I dug into the leather pack and removed my mother’s metal lockpick. The very same one that Zakarot had insisted would become useful.

So creepy…

Of course, I had no idea how to actually pick a lock.

It took a significant amount of time before Zakarot managed to talk me through it. All the while, I was peering over my shoulders to ensure we wouldn’t be caught. The Shroud had remained stable, but anyone would be able to see a floating lockpick trying to break into their precious vault of goods.

Those reactions would be quite entertaining.

Once the metal lock came loose and the door swung ajar, I silently slipped inside the storehouse. Hopefully no-one would notice the open door and come to investigate. Becoming locked inside would put a damper on our plans. I could already imagine the Apostle’s amused voice mocking me before being burned to ashes.

The storehouse itself was nothing special. Stacks of wooden crates lined the featureless walls, and herbs were strewn across the contents–their scent intended to keep creatures away from the village’s supplies. Unfortunately for the villagers, they would do little to deter me.

What should I take?

‘What can you fit inside of your pack?’

I nodded and began searching.

To my dismay, there wasn’t much to choose from. The supplies mostly consisted of dried meats, bread, and vegetables. Though the latter didn’t appear particularly appealing.

I had no idea how to cook raw meat, but slid some of the smaller slices into my sack nonetheless. I also took most of the village’s bread supply, confident that it would be the easiest to feast on during our journey.

And once I was certain that my sack would burst if I tried to fill it further, I turned my back to the storehouse and returned to the outside. Glancing around at the chief’s house, relieved to find my parents nowhere in sight, I carefully closed the door behind me and replaced the lock.

…Now?

‘Now we leave.’

I nodded absently as the words settled in, stabbing at my heart and making my head spin. The time was finally here. After all of the training and preparations, it was time to leave home behind.

I strolled through the village toward the main entrance, assuming that this would take me in the direction of civilization (unlike the opposite side of the village).

Meanwhile, our neighbors went about their day. These people had lived near me for all fifteen years of my life, but I didn’t recognize a single one. A jumble of names filled my head but I couldn’t match any of them to a face. The people of Flykra Village were strangers to me,

Though in a strange way, we shared an intimate connection.

Because I had seen Flykra Village aflame. I’d heard the villagers’ wails and their death cries. These people might not have deserved my pity; they’d treated me like an outcast for years and yet…

I had to save them.

It was just something I had to do.

I was under no delusions. I was no hero. I didn’t have the qualifications to save anyone.

But that didn’t matter.

At some point during my contemplation, I reached the village’s front gate. It could hardly be considered a gate. Its wood was rotten and slumped to the side, and anyone could jump over it.

Yet, this gate had once provided me with a sense of security. Flykra Village, for all its faults, was home.

What would happen to me after walking through this gate? What kinds of horror waited for me on the other side? New places, experiences, and dangers.

The thoughts made some parts of me feel sick, while others felt more alive than ever before. Listening to my heart thrum deep within my chest, I stepped forward.

This was the life I’d begged for. A life of adventure and magic. For the first time in my life, I held the reins. It was my story, and it was time for it to finally begin.

Without another glance behind me, I left Flykra Village.

And the fate of our world trembled.

End of Arc 1