Sdorica -Vestige-

Chapter 1: How Much Longer...?

"How long...?" I said to myself. The cool grass under me whistled their symphonies as the wind howled into the open sky. The sun bathing everything in it's warmth. Here I am, lying under the shade of an oak tree. The wolf cubs playfully tackling each other in the meadow in the distance. Monsters lurking on the horizon, on the edge of the place I call home. "How long...?" I say once more. I let my body fall, a thud softened by the grass. A bit painful, but tolerable. The color of the leaves of the lone oak tree on a hill under which I lie were beginning to turn to a bright orange. Autumn was near. "Please, let this season not be so harsh..." I prayed silently, sighing hopelessly as words do not touch reach the sun. It's blessings too harsh for the unworthy. A snarl crept over my face as I unwrapped the strands of cloth over my right arm. A dark, beaming mark on my palm, eternally throbbing. The pulses sometimes too great for one to bear. The curse by blood. I loathe this curse so much. Yet, here I am. Peacefully sitting under a tree. Forced to exist with an eternal nightmare. "Grandfather... How could you?" once again, muttering idle words without whom to hear. I laugh, shaking my head realizing the futility to resist. Life is cruel, and you have to accept it. You have no other option except oblivion if you do. Wrapping my arm once more, the darkness seeping through, I head back home. Stepping unto the path, I head North. A few steps forward, I can just barely manage to see the entirety of the Kingdom of Sun in all of it's glory. Barely. The distance between me and the palace is too great. Even if I wandered Poleva Desert for centuries, that wouldn't compare. It is, for me, considered impossible. Dreams of royalty are just fleeting afterthoughts. When the palace disappeared behind the mountains, I proceeded to stare at my own two feet. There was nothing worth noting in the empty fields of grass. At least, not anymore. I've walked this pathway all my life, even the subtle changes began to bore me. Tall or cut grass, stone tablets beside the path, wolf den in the distance, all of these I knew. These small details were carved into my very subconscious. "How long...?" I muttered unto the sky. The wind howled again, carrying my empty words for the sun to scorch.

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Opening the door to the house, I see my father on the table. Groaning in pain, a sickle in hand. "Father? Did you not finish the field work?" he shook his head. Raising an eyebrow, I asked again, "Did you actually finish it, though?" I turn to the window, overlooking the field. It seemed about finished. It is noon, after all. "Roxas... Void season is nearing..." he sobbed. The pain in his voice was clear as day. I did not respond, for he knows I feel it as well. It is rather difficult to keep a straight face when an agonizing pain is pulsing through your body. "Son, need I remind you what to do?" "No..." This was my life in a nutshell. Fate has made it's choice the moment I was born. I walked on to the table, the aroma of freshly cooked meat and earthy vegetables filled my nostrils. Usually I am the one cooking under this roof, though he did a pretty good job preparing a meal for someone who only knew how crops worked. I sat down, taking in the smells again. Getting a hold of a spoon, I chowed down. All I heard, as of this moment, was my own chewing. Until father decided to break the silence. "When am I gonna teach you how to farm, Roxas?" I never liked this question. "Never" I simply said. "Why not?!" he scolded me. "I just want to teach you the ways of the field! And you're simply going to refuse!?" I remained silent. The more he vents, the better. Or for worse. "You don't even give me back the love that I gave you, Roxas! As a father, this is unacceptable!" he snaps. I stood up, confronting him. His mark now glows a bright gold. It was time. I took out my knife. The same old knife that time and time again, returned my father to his senses. I stared at him, readying myself for the same old struggle. His bloodshot eyes glowed brighter as I felt his sanity slipping away for the Sun knows how many times. I sadly sighed, the last bit of empathy being buried inside me, only brought up once the season ends. Tightening my grip on the knife, he lunges at me at full force. I step to the side. He crashes unto the cupboard for the 36th time for the past 5 years. The glint of nostalgia filled me. I remember when mom used to calm him down. However, there was no reason to smile. As of this moment, the thing I am facing right now isn't my father. It is a monster. The organic carapaces grew from the mark on his shoulder. Metallic chunks of who knows what it's made changed the entirety of his upper body. Occasionally, I couldn't even recognize him. Too many times I almost killed him. Almost. He's been suffering for too long. "Maybe today..." I sighed. He attacks. I dodge to the right. Again, crashing, this time on the table. "Oh..." I was saddened. The meal was good too. Not that the table was any of importance. An heirloom in which my mother treasured. I remembered telling her that I'll keep it pristine even after her passing. I step forward, instantly greeted by a swipe to the arm. Jumping backwards, my left hand on my right shoulder. "Wow, he did hit me this time..." I tried to stand up. The strength in my legs faded. I dropped down, knees impacting first. I shuddered at the pain but paid no heed. I, once again, stood up. "Come!" I yelled. Our gazes meet. I could only see nothing but bloodlust. Though this was only ordinary. I pointed my blade at him as the world came to a halt. I've experienced this moment. Again and again. I remember the first time I was in this situation. Fear engulfed me. My hands and legs were shaking. Sweat poured out of me like a mountain river. This time, however, was all too different. I was ready. For the first time in my life, I truly felt alive. The thing before me roared at me in it's last attempt to scare me off. "I know how this song and dance ends, Father..." I announced. My voice echoed across the room, breaking the silence. "...all too well."
It charges at me. Words do not reach it. It no longer can understand emotions or even think. It is merely a beast driven by powerful, natural, killer instincts. It swipes upwards with it's left arm, barely scratching my face. I retaliate. Pushing all my energy unto a kick on it's left body. The beast lost it's balance as it fell to the ground, sounding another great crash, destroying what was already broken in the process. Regaining it's willpower, it throws itself at me. Swiftly dodging to the right, I drive the blade unto it's right shoulder. It's attack only missing an inch from my face. I push the blade further in until only the hilt remained above the flesh. It shrieks. It's piercing cry isn't a pleasant sound to hear. It violently thrashes about, attempting to remove me and the blade. I pulled the blade, removing it from the flesh. The fresh slit gushed out pitch black blood as it began to calm down. It fell down face first, twitching uncontrollably.  I allowed my whole weight to be dragged down by the force of the world, resulting in a loud thud. I tried lifting my arms, but it feels like I'm getting dragged down the more I try to resist it. My legs didn't cooperate either. My usual strength wasn't there. My blade rolled away from me as I released it from my grip, continuing until it hit the wall. I glanced at the beast. The unholy features dissipated into the air like the fizzing bubbles by the riverside. I was starting to see him, now. The father who loved me. The son of the man who began this hell on earth. "How long would this last...?" I mumbled, my own prayers unheard.