Kismet’s Tale

      “Hey,” Mavin greeted.

Velia looked at him for a moment before slapping him. It was a slap that left a bit of marking. His skin didn't show any damage.

“I deserved that.”

“Yes, you do.”

The little girl had grown up. He was proud of her. So proud that she had the balls to do what she wanted to do.

“She’ll be fine. I made sure of that. Your sister is strong enough. She’ll be fine. She’s rational enough to understand and I’m not like her who is willing to just throw it all away for the sake of some self-imposed mission.”

“Uncle, do you really have to?”

“I have to. I want all of you to live longer. It’s not enough. I am not enough. But at least I think I can give time until you are all satisfied. I’m sorry, but the sparks need to. You can live long enough to do what you want. At least until the corrector would reset everything. I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you. I am a bad uncle to you.”

Elea looked at him. She held an expression that made her look like she didn’t know whether to cry or scream at Mavin.

“Indeed, you are a very bad uncle.”

“I know and I am sorry.”

“Uncle.”

“Yes?”

“You’re too hard on yourself. You know that sometimes you can just not do it. I understand that you can do it. But it isn’t your obligation to do any of this. What you did during the clearing of the south of Lazon. The peace treaty with the tripartite alliance. The destruction of the demikin and defeating the Exiled One. It hasn’t been a year since you have done that. And I believe that it only feels like just a few days for you, Uncle.”

“It is. The days are sweet. I’ve spent time with one of the people that cherished me. Sorry, I didn’t have time to spend it on you. We are blood-related after all.”

“It’s okay, Uncle. If anything, I’m glad that you spend it with Big Sister. She’ll wait for you, you know? I don’t know why, but she will. She’ll never stop believing until her death. She might have let go if you didn’t appear, but this time she won't. I… I don’t know what hell my sister saw, but it was hellish enough that she’d be willing to spend time waiting and waiting. But you know what, Uncle? I expected this somewhat. You really can’t stay still.”

Mavin sagged his shoulders for a moment before straightening his posture. No matter how he tried there was something that he couldn’t hide from his blood-related family. They weren’t close. Hell, they barely spent time because he had been monopolized by Natalya. He felt cruel. Doing this to her and then leaving her again. He didn’t want to leave either. What kind of person is so willing to risk his life and then suffer for it?

He was no masochist. He didn’t believe that doing this would make feel relieved or feel better. He just didn’t want to leave it alone. In the memories he saw back then, they always waited until everything became worse, dully thinking, taking their time, and not immediately putting their foot down. He understood that it was because they weren’t prepared and there was a separation from what they can do, but nonetheless he couldn’t understand such passive behavior. That’s why isn’t it obvious to act when he can? Why would he wait for things to get worse? He had the power. He had the resources to carry out the plan. Why in God’s name would he wait for the Corrector to appear and let the world suffer for it?

He couldn’t understand.

“I can’t really stay still. That’s why I have to make sure that people I cherish are able to live in paradise and not through hell.”

“Are you not afraid?”

“Who said I am not? Just because I dare to doesn’t mean that I am not. It’s because I am afraid that I have to go and do my duty. You know? My Ma and Pa knew that if they went to Jorvi, they would die. I told them not to go and it caused me to be binded by the truths. But they still went and died. They knew what was coming and they still did it. I was angry. Why would they prioritize other people? Why would they be willing to die and leave their son behind? I don’t get it. I never get it now and then. I still ask myself if they were good or not for doing so. But knowing that your big sister has a child? Do you know what I felt? I felt even more afraid. We have the money, we can pass on the storm, but against what is coming? Power and money are useless. And even if it will take time to do so. I asked myself if it's right for me to leave the world alone, knowing that I can do something about it. What would my child think? Knowing that his stupid dad didn’t dare to something about it? A Strongarm is not a coward, and what runs in our blood is the blood of the bold.”

Mavin said without a pause. His firm and imposing voice has cracks on it, but it was a determined voice. A voice that wasn’t willing to back down. Mavin was rather glad he could speak his mind.

Velia could not raise her voice. She shook her head. “I will make sure that Big Sis is cared for. It is our noblesse oblige to do so after all. It’s just a shame that I wish I could have spent more time with you, Uncle.”

“Indeed. But it seems like there was still a use for me. I wonder it myself… if this was just a destined route for me. It may sound so self-important, but I have a hand on this as well. So, I think it’s just right to let me do this. Be well, Cousin Derrick and your mom will be proud of you, I’m sure. If there is a next time, I hope that we can be family again.”

She wiped her eyes but remained graceful. She followed Mavin to the upper deck where a helicopter was waiting for him. She boarded the helicopter and watched as the whole city was contained by the military force of Lazon. No one was going to enter Lazon and no one was going to get out. The little girl had grown up. Mavin felt like he was such a deadbeat but he chose this path. From the moment he took the reins to change this awful tale that he saw. He had always been determined.

That deadly determination… Mavin wondered if he had earned it from his father and mother? What was their name?

Ah, what was their name again? Mavin tried his best to remember but couldn’t. It felt like there was something blocking his memory. What was it?

Mavin jumped from the helicopter and landed. He wore no power armor and only carried his black-iron blade and a light coat. He took a last look at his niece before starting forward. There was no one in the city any longer. The place he was in was certainly the center of the city. It was a place where most of the foot traffic was. In the center of this city was a diamond-shaped stone statue that was placed here. Even the Magi did not notice the old symbols that could not be seen unless one had the proper boon for it. It was an option only available for Mavin. 

The heart of the Magi. It was said that the first one to have bloomed had taken his heart into this center. Mavin pressed his palm. The heart then bloomed like a flower in a spring. It looks like a flower as well, I guess that’s why he called it the bloom. For the Nuller, it was different, much more ancient.

He took out the sphere of Merez and placed it in the middle. Then he took Kismet's artifact and stabbed it on his chest as if it was nothing to him. The artifact stayed still and before long the regeneration factor closed in the artifact on the center of his chest.

Ah.

Every blood vessel on Mavin burst.

He kneeled down and felt his vision filled with red before it slowly returned. Every orifice of his body was bleeding and he felt like he was being burned.

“Old man, you okay?”

He said to his head. Then he heard a tired voice.

“It’s working. I can be your shield at least. And don’t you dare to say that you can do this on your own. I’m just a fragment lad. No need to worry about the dead.”

Mavin nodded. He stood up and then wiped his face. He pressed both hands on the center of the heart of the Magi and started recollecting the spell. He recalled what he could from that memory he saw. 

The heart of the magi.

The heart of the bloomed.

The heart is where all beats.

It is the pulse.

It is the blood.

Through the veins of the earth,

Through the veins of those who had bloomed,

The Heart of the Magi remains constant.

Mavin breathed in. He felt like his bones shattered. His organs scrambled and for a moment he couldn’t feel his lungs. The sphere of merez started to move. It motioned like a yarn being weaved and pulled. Mavin could feel his mind floating. But his body remained holding on to the sphere of merez and the heart of the magi.

The intense force of the ritual shattered and devastated the area. Mavin had resisted some of it but there was simply no helping that his skin was flayed. He was without skin and there were parts of his human body that were revealing his steely white bones. But instead of a pinkish look, there was this iron-like color that was in the interior of his skin.

Very soon the sphere of merez revolved as if it was spinning top. The sphere rotated faster and harder than ever and before long there was a slicing gust of wind that further devastated the area around him.

But Mavin Tomas held on. His eyes remained focused on the sphere as he chanted. It was a continuous ritual of being flayed alive. The blood that Mavin Tomas spilled slowly formed into this awful shape. It held the shape of a flower, the flower of the sparks.

Then a howl came from the deepest part of the city. And before long it started to cease as Mavin absorbed the source of the noise into the artifact embedded on his chest. He took the sphere of Merez out, and started to absorb all that it had taken from the city of Haymouth into him.

Mavin Tomas soon resembled that of a living bulb. The ‘vitality’ that he took from the city became his skin and his flesh was turned into this pale blue skin that seems to continuously shed his skin.

Mavin could tell that he couldn’t stop himself from flaying the skin. No matter how fast his regeneration factor was. He was still skinning himself alive continuously. The regeneration truthfully did nothing more than harm. The gift that he had became a curse and yet before long the sphere of merez that became part of kismet’s artifact slowly melted. It was then that Mavin released a small domain that prevented the energy from melting the surface he stood on.

The artifact blinked.

The air became stale.

The colors of Haymouth were gone.

Mavin looked at his black iron and saw that some parts of it had melted. And nonetheless the blade remained intact. He floated and then released a beam of light that passed through everything.  The light landed on the south of the land where the volcano was. The anger that was within the volcano became weaker.

Still conscious?

I am conscious.

Mavin told  himself. It hurts.

It hurts.

It hurts.

Mavin took a step forward and ‘swallowed’ them. He saw how the soil became gray. How the air became stale at what he did. His senses were heightened. Everything felt like it would be squashed under a single squash. But Mavin paid no attention to this new sense of power. These overwhelming thoughts that are telling him to rage on. With a step he ‘placed’ a foot on the invisible floor. His feet made a stir. He took another heavy step. And then another, giving each step a ripple.

“Are you going to be alright.”

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts so badly.

“Calm, son, I’ll be with you till the end of the ride. My soul, your shield. This isn’t over.”

 

---

 

The mind of his host has been ridden with pain. He held no name now. Nothing but a remnant of a ghost that grew fancy over a kid who wanted to change his fate. At first he wanted nothing more than for the kid to grow up happy. But the memories of that he saw couldn’t allow him. Nonetheless, he saw how the kid struggled, and tried so hard. It was part vengeance and part noblesse oblige. A self-imposed duty that a ghost could not persuade him.

The pain that he took was greater.  The feeling of his skin being torn and ripped from him. How he wished he could have done something more. How he wished that there was something he could do to take away the pain. He was no longer that static he saw. He was Mavin Tomas, the kid he was looking out for years now.

His pain.

His anguish.

His stoic resolve.

He had seen it.

In some way he couldn’t forgive it.

He couldn’t forgive the world that would play with such a young man. To bear the brunt of a broken world. All for the sake of his cherished.

He hated it. He hated how he could only be his shield. But what else could he do other than bear the burden? His soul was already broken and fragmented. If he could just spend the last of it to protect the kid long enough. He thought to himself that itself would be his salvation.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

The kid’s thoughts were breaking his heart.

“Move. Another step. Yeah, just another step. This isn’t the stage. Follow the sound of my voice, isolate it, and let it be your shining light.”

The kid listened. His steps became practiced. And before long the kid had long surpassed the view of the clouds. For a second the kid looked at the airship carrier. Emotions flooded in the kid.

I don’t want to go. I want to see. I want to be with her for a time. Oh, it hurts, it hurts so much. Master, I don’t want to.

“You can go. I won’t stop you.”

Then his voice became quiet. His thoughts cleared. His emotions became firm. The thought of the kid’s woman and the child in her belly made his emotions become dead on his tracks. A single-minded resolve came, flooding in his head.

I can’t just run away. I need to give time. I need time. I just need to give them time. I need time for me to win. Then I can rest, yes, that’s right… I can then just rest.

“I promise you can. I bet my soul on it.”

His fear became less. He continued on stepping forward until he was in front of the ‘seal’ that he had created. It was the same seal that allowed them to limit the sparks floating in. It was the same seal that had given them a long time. Fifty-seven years was long enough. The only thing he regretted is that his kid was not able to enjoy those years. And now he was sacrificing more years so that the people below could live.

The hand of the kid passed through the seal. He phased through the seal and entered this odd dimension where asteroids, and wandering rocks surrounded this planet. He looked down alongside the kid and saw the known continents. From this height they could spot the home called Lazon and yet it also feels like there was a thin layer surrounding the planet. It was a bubble. A bubble that protected it from this field.

It was then that they felt something. His kid looked around and saw beings wandering this dimension. The same beings that had tried to enter his world. The same beings that had made him sleep for fifty-seven years.

There were numerous of them. No wonder they attracted the Corrector. Think of that being as a law enforce, and the exiled the criminals daring to enter a new world. The kid looked at the world and felt that he could no longer enter it. The world itself was rejecting his entry.

The kid drew his black-iron blade. It started to ‘sing’ at the end of the world. The light that coated the kid was like a lamp in the dark. It attracted the moths called the Exiled. They craved his light. They craved the same light that came from the world they had seen.

The first ones were strong, but he was practiced on how to deal lethal blows to them. The rest aimed from a distance, but his black-iron blade was also like a shield that sliced through their attacks.

Each step was a week. And each movement took a year to make. There were continuously pouring down at the kid. His ghostly eyes watch the kid’s back. The breath that he would use to slow down his perception of time and the brutal strength that he had gotten. His boons screamed. They roared as each blow and victory made Mavin gather some of their energy.

There was a giant iceberg that could be found on the northern hemisphere of the planet. It was an iceberg that had been on that planet since antediluvian times. It was basked under the sun. And there were many like it and yet it had lasted long enough.

The iceberg slowly melted as he fought. It’s figure is becoming smaller. One million ninety-five thousand seven hundred fifty movements. Three hundred ninety-nine million nine hundred forty-eight thousand seven hundred fifty steps. He counted. His soul cried. The kid’s soul was burning.

Kid?

Master… is the Corrector not here yet?

The soul didn’t know. The kid’s emotions were neutered.

Who was she again? The kid asked.

I’ll tell you a story about her while you fight.

He forces the images into his head. The images of a single woman that even he had forgotten. Her name was lost to him and the kid. Who was she? But it didn’t matter. If it could soothe the heart of his kid who was fighting. It didn’t matter.

The light that he showed had become tainted with the light that those who are wandering. The iceberg floating on the northern hemisphere of the planet slowly became steel. The land that was green became gray and towers of concrete and steel pierced the skies. Ships floated in and out of the planet. They were separated from this world. Separated and was unable to look at this wonderful marvel of engineering. The moon floating across them started to be coated in steel structures.

More of them came.

It was endless. Seeking to find home in this brightly-lit world. The kid fought. He fought not knowing what it would mean. His soul as his shield. And his black-iron blade striking down foes. A lonely guarding in the void.

Always thinking of the same image. The kid didn’t know where his resolve came from. He didn’t know where this steely determination was. But he couldn’t leave him. He was a broken soul and he didn’t feel like abandoning his kid. The kid whose soul he was bound to.

Time passed further. And before long he had become practiced in slaying the exiled. Time passed again and he was like their butcher. The wounds that he had sustained were nothing. But he knew that his soul was not going to last. It was not going to last. He was not a god. He was not even some powerful being. At least he could shield his soul with his.

Kid, you alright?

Master, what was the image again?

I can show you.

He showed the same memories. The same events that regained the kid’s footing. The image became blurry and yet the kid felt happy. He had long lost his pain. Was there even flesh left on him?

He continued to remain.

Time passed yet again.

The kid continued to go on. Sometimes he would look at the planet fondly. Sometimes he would try knocking the bubble that was protecting the planet.

What am I doing here? The kid asked sometimes.

He would reply, “You are because there are others who are still in there.” The kid could feel that the strand was alive. That same bond that the woman had attached to her. It was the same strand that kept them from being able to remember the woman. Her name was lost to them, but nonetheless the images of the woman remained constant on him.

The light on the planet remained bright. It was shining on and on. But one day it slowly dwindled. It became so less that it made him and the kid wonder if something had happened. But there was no way for him to enter. He could only watch.

Then it came suddenly, the dimension trembled, the rock structures floating in this dimension trembled and were squashed by something malevolent. It was a being that had a body that resembled the view of the starry skies. Its orange-stained eyes were like blackholes that were sucking everything.

The kid saw the being. He saw the being that gave him fright

Kid, now is the time to use it.

He raised an object, the sphere, that was in his hand. Then it ‘caged’ the being as if separating him from the dimension.

Oh human. Guarding this world. I see that you have murdered upon the protection of this planet. This void is not permitted. It must be thrown back. It must be reconnected and corrected to its place. You are on my way.

The being flickered an invisible hand. He shielded the kid and then it felt like his soul was lashed. The remains of his consciousness, the fragments of his soul, although strengthened, were shredded by this single hand.

The kid lashed a lone blade. The being moved a despairing distance and pointed at the kid. The kid shattered. But to the being’s surprise he was reshaped.

You smell of the walker. His weapon you carry. His will as well. No, you are not a seed of him, no you are aberrant, another one. A stray that escaped the cycle that has been formed. You will be corrected.

The being pointed. The kid shattered and reformed. The kid tried to shorten the distance. But the being merely made the distance infinite. Four hundred million steps. Forty-seven million movements. Continuously shattered and reformed, the kid remained. The soul was shredded and shattered.

The will of man astounds. The image of him that spreads is always beautiful. But it is corrected, return to the world, live again, child of man.

The being looked at the kid. Then at the ‘soul’ that was clinging to it. 

“Son of Terra, you will not return home. You see things. But now you must abandon it. Your aberrant existence in exchange for the price of his renewal.”

The being offered a hand.

The kid took a step forward and managed a scratch. The being stared at the kid before squashing the kid, what remained, an essence. He held on to the kid’s remnants. Like a man who was protecting a kid from being kicked again.

Then it was silent.

He looked up and saw a man walking the dimension. He wore a worn black coat. Red slit eyes and on the back of this man were uncountable eyes that released fear. But he couldn’t feel the fear.

“Son of Terra,” roared the being from starry-skies. “You come here!?”

“I smelled some of my essence. Ah, so that was it.

The man clad in black swung its hand and ebony-colored iron appeared from his hand. The being tried to farther the distance, but it caught. The man clad in black pulled on invisible strings. The being was caught and as if it was nothing. Then the man clad in black brought down a sword made of ebony iron.

“How awful,” the man clad in black said. “He’ll be resetting everything. You there. It’s to leave.”

“No, my kid, he should be the one… can you do something about it?”

The man clad in black looked at him who was holding on the bits of pieces left of the kid. The man clad in black felt that there was something tugging on the essence as well. He looked at the two bonded together for a moment.

“A Greater World awaits, not a bubble like this,” he said. “You two should not meet with bonds, but of your own choosing. If it’s kismet, then let it be so.”

He swung a sword. The blade separated the bonds and he made another swing before sending the two that were like pieces left.

“They should be safe. From all this chaos. To this power...there are only myths. Hah, I guess in a way this is a blessing from me.”

He looked at the remnant.

“All is nameless. And the unnamed are within me. You are not much of a warrior, but your warmth will warm my wraiths. This is the price that I will have. This place will not last long. There is no meaning to being here.”

“Is my kid going to be fine?”

“He will. Unfortunately, he will only have his strength. The true worlds don't allow such powers such as these, and there are only remnants, myths, echoes of what they were. This is a second chance...that I think yours deserved. You have abandoned it. To who you cherish. This is simply… your luck.”

“Is that so?”

He saw the world the kid knew crumbled and popped. Slowly, the white crawled in, hoping to devour everything that it could see on its path.

“Ah, he was called Mavin.”

He recalled.

The kid that tore his soul

And he knew that it wouldn't be long until his soul dissipated.

“Rest well.”

He recalled memories.

He recalled a dream of a kid trying his best knowing how it will end.

He recalled the desperate back of a kid trying his best to give time for others.

He had done so well.

He, who had long lost his name, saw a soldier and a father.

It was better than whatever memories that he had once saw.

And such memories slowly flickered like candlelight being blown off by the wind.