Fall of a Hero: Hearts Without Foundation (a Fantasy Adventure)

Liar

I woke up the morning after, feeling calm and somehow relaxed. It was an unexpectedly pleasant sleep, considering we slept in shallow coffin holes dug into the ground of our shack.

It took me a few minutes to fully recover everything that happened that last night. I clearly remembered losing Maledicta and my family's disgusting apathy.

I remembered my metaphorical death, but for the life of me I could not remember what happened with Serpo other than me changing my name, and him telling me that Lord Mundus was to blame, which I don't understand because Mundus doesn't exactly fit the "killer profile". I don't know. I figured I was crazed from the trauma.

However, I still kept my new name. Crazy or not, I was done being Vulgaris. I was tired of being nothing. I was determined to be different, to give my life meaning. I took that first day as Fetoven with fervor but by the time I got home from backbreaking mud brick work, I was back to being my old self of being harassed, pushed over, and ignored.

Needless to say, my life hardly changed. In fact, little else but my name changed. I continually strived to made a good effort, though. I got that habit of mine of occasionally repeating myself when demanding something to die down to less frequent phrases. I got to being nicer to those who tormented me, which primarily included letting them push me around. Perhaps my social skills weren't the best.

As for my my family, they eventually forgot about Maledicta. To my parents, the money from Lord Mundus's regret fund more than compensated for his life. People sometimes brought up the name of the once prominent serf athlete, but only briefly. It was almost as if he were never born.

I didn't see Serpo again for four years-four long years. By that time I had grown up. I was fifteen and had taught myself to accept him as nothing more than a simple vision. I told myself that it had never happened. Ultimately, I planned to move on in life. Serpo did not exist.

Around those days, things had stayed mostly the same, other than my tasks being upgraded. I did twice as much work as I used to, and I was currently helping add on another room to the lord's mother's house. It was grueling, but again, not entirely unbearable. The only things unbearable were my siblings.

One evening after I especially harassed when defending Maledicta, I found myself thinking of him again. I had avoided it for what seemed eternity. The whole thing was very unresolved, and my heart was still severed. My mind was still confused. I wanted to know why he had died.

I wandered into the shallow edge of the forest where I would run with him. It was a safe, well-lit area along the path, with some scattered leaf debris here and there. I picked up a twig and swung it around, thinking how saintly he was. Sure, he was bossy and had a somewhat aggressive disposition, but there was good in him. In fact, there was a whole lot more good than most people I knew. I threw my twig and picked up another.

Then I threw it against a tree. He was all that I had and now, he was taken from me. I couldn't believe I had tasted what they call love, just to have it yanked from me. I wondered what I could have done. I felt guilty for being so smug that I won the race for once.

I guess what kept rerunning in my head was that couldn't believe he was gone, and now I was alone again. I was shocked. I was afraid. I was afraid if things would be the same for me for the rest of my life. I worried if I would be forgotten like Maledicta. Forever, I'd be an insignificant serf with no one to care if I died. And so I continued my pattern. Pick up, throw, pick up, throw.

Suddenly, something whacked my head. Dirt exploded into my hair and ear.

I jumped back and instinctively rubbed it. Someone had hit me with a dirt clump. "Who's there?" I called out emptily. Only the wilderness responded back with its animal noises. I picked up a long staff-length stick and held it out in front of me. "Come out. Come out so I can see you."