Rey De-Heavens (English)

Chapter 1: The Smell of the Night

"I am Rey, this is Heavens and I must get to hell before the elders awaken" Covered in mud from head to toe, the small figure whispered to the wind the reason why he kept awake.

Among the edges of some remote region not many living know of, under the cold, shadowy blanket of an eternal night, was a little boy who had kept running without stopping. Not that there were many children running aimlessly on the borders of Paradise, in fact, he was one of three and the only one who kept in constant motion when he should sleep.

The place was referred to by the adults as "the Ever-Changing Forest," a place where there was no moon to peek out and no small animal such as frogs or singing insects. Constant change abounded there. The screams of trees that broke each other. Ferocious beasts that roamed in search of food. Bottomless precipices at every corner. Roots and branches as sharp as knives. Dancing lights that rose and fell. Mud and rotting leaves. Icy gusts of wind that blew like lightning. Ghastly figures of corpses on dismembered bones. And death himself in a wandering hood.

Rey wandered so deep into the forest that he even believed that not even all the adults together could find him or keep track of him and his companion. His master's directions never quite managed to move him, and though they still rang in his head, he laughed at them, for they seemed absurd to him. However, the mire of the thick forest of giant trees was getting deeper and the lights that helped him to avoid dangerous situations were dimming. Little by little the place began to resemble a red mud swamp that made it difficult for the little boy to advance.

Between dangers and frightening shapes in which he could die if he was not careful enough, Rey came to the point where he had no choice but to stop. Parting his chapped lips, he stuck out his tongue and opened his mouth as wide as he could.

He needed to catch his breath if he intended to keep running. The sharp eyes that lit up with the whiteness radiating from an infinite Pythagorean star, which bordered the pupils and matched their dilated size, ceased to see into the gloom. With the fading of the floating lights and the impending darkness, there was enough reason for the little boy to be terrified. He knew where he was going, but not where he was. He could not go back the way he had come, if he set his mind to it. The floating boulders would hit him, whether he walked into them or they would fall on his head without warning. One false step would be to fall into an endless pit. Getting any closer to a tree than he should have would provide him with another injury. Some beast that if he could see might be stalking him warily preparing the best moment to strike. But even with all this, he felt no fear, not even in the slightest. He would say:

"I am not in the forest, but the forest is with me. I don't feel lost if I have a target. I don't need to see if I have a friend who can be my eyes. Why worry about noises if they can't harm me? And for my tiredness, it was enough to stop and catch my breath" As one who believed he could do everything.

Eventually, Rey was forced to slow down and rest more often. The fruitless search made him feel so frustrated that he was unaware that he was running with much more weight than he really had.

"I, the one who can do it all, am I being led around in circles?" he wondered somewhat worriedly.

Focusing his attention on his companion, Rey was ignoring the huge cart he was pulling with his neck and the giant boulder on his back.

The cart he was pulling bore the presence of trees, mud, rocks, darkness and the weariness of his body, while the imposing solidity was almost on the verge of crushing him. But he could not notice, see or touch either of these two objects, because they were as real as his thoughts. For him, thoughts, worries, problems, stress and negative ideas were not willing to hinder him in the slightest. However, they were responsible for the mantra "I must get to hell... before the elders wake up...", which Rey repeated as a driving force, began to lose form and meaning, until it became empty, hollow and purposeless. Over time, the words spoken by the elders proceeded to occupy the space in the little boy's mind, until he could no longer manage to stop thinking of the accusing voice repeating the word "Of-Bastador!" in his head, or of the edge of an immense sword that would cut his throat and bring about death.