A disembodied voice, unmistakably feminine, whispered through the veil of Jaden's consciousness. "I am sorry, my child... Live a life that satisfies you... make friends so you won't be alone when you die." The words were a gentle caress, a benediction that seemed to wrap around his heart like a warm cloak. A chill seeped into his arm, as if a cold, metallic object had been bound to his wrist.
"You're never alone, my dear child... I'll watch over you like the moon watches the night... My love wraps around you like this pendant... light your own path and shine like the stars I see in you, and when the time comes, find your way back home where the lions sleep." The voice faded, leaving Jaden adrift in a sea of confusion, his mind a jumble of fragmented thoughts and half-remembered dreams.
The sound of urgent footsteps, heavy breathing, and a woman's voice shouting, "There, I think she ran that way!!!" pierced the haze. Jaden felt himself being lifted, cr cradled in a gentle but firm grasp, before being deposited onto the cold, wet ground. The sound of water rushing past, the smell of damp earth, and the faint tang of blood filled his senses.
"...there she is, get..." The words were the last thing he heard before consciousness slipped away, and he was reborn, flowing through the water like a ghost, his spirit unmoored from his physical form.
The water finally spat him out, exhausted and disoriented, onto the shore of a tranquil lake. The morning sun cast its golden light upon his face, warming his skin, and the scent of fresh grass and the gentle lullaby of running water lulled him into a peaceful slime.
A woman, with a baby strapped to her back and a little girl, Aris, by her side, approached the lake, their footsteps quiet on the grass. Aris, around five years old, held a wooden bucket in her hand, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she chased a butterfly, her laughter like music, her mother's hands occupied by the laundry.
Aris's gaze caught a glimmer of light, a sparkle that seemed to dance on the surface of the water. Following the beam, she spotted Jaden, his pendant glinting like a tiny star. Her eyes widened, and she froze, her expression a mixture of wonder and curiosity, as if fate had called her to this moment.
"Aris, what is it?" her mother called out, concern etched on her face. her voice barely above a whisper, "Mama, look!"
The mother's gaze followed Aris's arms, and her expression changed, a mix of surprise and calculation crossing her face. "Aris, put that child down and walk towards me," she said firmly, her voice low and urgent.
Aris hesitated, her eyes locked on Jaden, before reluctantly placing him down and walking away, her small shoulders slumped in disappointment. Her mother grabbed her arm, and they departed, leaving Jaden alone in the forest, the silence broken only by the distant sound of their footsteps fading into the distance.
As night began to fall, Jaden's stomach growled, a painful reminder of his hunger and thirst. The darkness seemed to press in around him, and he was left to fend for himself, abandoned and alone.
Aris and her mother trudged through the forest, their breath misting in the cold air as they approached their tree-house, a rustic dwelling nestled among the branches of an ancient tree, its bark gnarled and weathered to a soft, silky smoothness. The warm light from the candles shone through the windows, casting a golden glow on the snow-covered ground, like a beacon in the darkness, and the scent of burning wood and roasting meat wafted through the air, mingling with the earthy smell of the forest floor, rich and loamy.
Inside, the tree-house was a cozy, cluttered sanctuary, with animal furs draped over the furniture and mats strewn about the floor, like a patchwork quilt. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls, as the flames danced and spat, their warmth and light a comforting presence in the cold, dark night. The scent of burning wood and simmering stew wafted through the air, mingling with the earthy smell of the forest floor, rich and loamy.
The baby in the wooden crib was wrapped snugly in a fur, its tiny chest rising and falling with each breath, as it slept, its small hands curled into tiny fists. The sound of its gentle snoring filled the air, a soft, soothing hum, like a lullaby.
Aris stood at the window, her gaze fixed on the snow-covered forest, her thoughts turning to the baby they had seen in the forest, its tiny form abandoned and alone. The memory of its cries echoed in her mind, a faint, mournful sound, like the distant call of a bird.
As she stared out into the darkness, the snow began to fall more heavily, the flakes drifting lazily down, like feathers in the wind, their gentle patter on the roof a soft, rhythmic beat. Her mother, busy stirring the stew, glanced up at her, her expression firm, her eyes a deep, piercing brown, as she commanded, "Stop gazing out the window, child. There's nothing you can do for that baby now."
Aris's gaze lingered on the forest, her heart heavy with worry, as she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, "But mother, it's snowing... what if the baby dies?" Her mother's expression softened, her eyes filling with a deep sadness, as she replied, her voice gentle, yet firm, "I understand how you feel, Aris, but sometimes, we have to accept that there are things beyond our control. That baby's fate is not our concern."
Aris turned away from the window, her eyes shining with tears, as she walked towards her mother, her footsteps quiet on the mat-covered floor. The scent of the stew wafted up, rich and savory, making her stomach growl with hunger.
As they sat down to eat, the door burst open, and Aris's father stumbled in, his face flushed with drink, his eyes red-rimmed, and the smell of ale wafted off him, strong and pungent. He dragged a bear carcass behind him, its body heavy and limp, its fur matted and dirty. Aris's mother rose to greet him, her expression wary, as she approached him, her footsteps light, her hands outstretched.
But he slapped her, the sound echoing through the tree-house, like a crack of thunder, and Aris's eyes widened in horror, as her mother stumbled back, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear. Aris stood frozen in the silence, her heart pounding in her chest, as the sound of her mother's muffled cries and protests echoed through the tree-house, like a knife twisting in her gut.
The fire crackled and spat in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls, as the flames danced and leapt, their warmth and light a mocking contrast to the cold, dark fear that gripped her heart. She took a step forward, her legs shaking beneath her, as she reached out a trembling hand to grasp the door handle, her fingers closing around the cold metal, like a lifeline.
But then she hesitated, her hand faltering, as she remembered her mother's words, her voice firm and commanding, "Stay out, Aris. Don't interfere." The words echoed in her mind, like a mantra, as she stood there, frozen in indecision, her heart torn between her love for her mother and her fear of her father.
The scent of the stew wafted up, rich and savory, but it was a cold, dead smell now, unable to pierce the numbness that had settled over her. As she stood there, the silence seemed to stretch out, like a taut thread, until it was almost unbearable. And then, suddenly, the cries stopped.
The sudden silence was like a slap, leaving Aris gasping, her heart pounding in her chest. The darkness seemed to press in around her, like a living thing, and she felt herself being swallowed up, lost in a sea of fear and uncertainty.
She took a step back, her eyes fixed on the door, as she waited for what felt like an eternity, her breath caught in her throat. The silence was oppressive, like a physical weight pressing down upon her.
And then, she heard it. A faint, muffled sound, like the sound of someone trying to stifle a cry. Aris's eyes widened, her heart racing, as she took a step forward, her hand reaching out for the door handle again. This time, she didn't hesitate. She threw the door open, and slipped inside, her eyes scanning the darkness, as she tried to make out what was happening.
The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a small, flickering candle, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Aris's mother lay on the bed, her face pale and bruised, her eyes closed, as Aris's father loomed over her, his face twisted in a snarl.
Aris's eyes flashed with anger, as she rushed forward, her fists clenched, as she launched herself at her father, her voice a fierce, animal cry, "Get away from her! Leave her alone!" The room erupted into chaos, as Aris's father turned, his eyes flashing with surprise, as he stumbled back, his arms flailing, as Aris's mother took advantage of the distraction to sit up, her eyes flashing with a fierce, protective light, as she reached out to grab an axe under the bed, then struck Aris's father on the back of his head with the side of the axe, rendering him unconscious.
The turmoil seemed to have subsided, and Aris and her mother exited the bedroom, Aris comforting her crying baby brother, who had woken up from the turmoil, whispering "it's going to be okay". Her mother embraced both of them, as they shortly fell asleep inside their warm embrace.
They fell asleep holding each other, around 12:03 midnight. Marilin dreamt of standing on a vast, calm plane like dawn without sun, warm and still. A bright light appeared, speaking: "I have been waiting for you, Marilin." The light identified itself as Ninrir, Goddess of Light. Marilin bowed in reverence, acknowledging Ninrir's supremacy.
"Fear not child, for I am the one who came to ask you for a favour" she spoke, her light seemed to burn brighter, each flare visible.
"I will do anything at your bidding, my lady" Marilin yelled, her voice still a bit shaky, her head on the ground for she couldn't dare look at the light of a goddess.
"Find and protect what you once found and left behind. I can feel the unbridled fear that clouds your heart. I can't promise you that the turmoil won't knock, but I am willing to help until the storm passes." Ninrir responded, her voice warm, yet authorative.
" when I saw the chain around that child's arm and the quality of the clothing that embraced him, a thought of losing everything I held dear clouded my mind, please forgive me for my poor judgement" Marilin spoke, her voice lanced with shame and regret.
"The child is one of mine and one of yours starting hence forth. Find him, care for him, and my light will forever shine on your destiny. Now go..."
Her voice spoke in a warm and calm demeanor, yet authoritative. Ninrir's light disappeared, Marilin woke, determined to act. Marilin retrieved Aris and put her to sleep, then navigated through a snow blizzard to the frozen river. She found the baby, his pulse fading, lips frozen. Searching, she discovered a cave, made a fire, and warmed the baby.
Marilin removed the baby's clothing, revealing an unexpected insignia on his left hand, behind: a black crescent moon. Her expression was serious, considering the implications. At first, the crest on the hand surprised her, then she saw him struggling from the cold.
Marilin placed her hand upon the baby's abdomen, covering his tiny belly, her eyes closed in meditation. A soft, luminous glow emanated from her hand, a blend of serene blue and verdant green hues, casting a gentle radiance throughout the cave. The light attracted creatures of the night; wolf-like beasts with dual tails and ebony coats, their numbers swelling to two hundred, drew nearer, their growls escalating into menacing snarls.
Marilin maintained her focus, undeterred by the gathering predators, her conviction steadfast.
Ninrir: "This shall be the singular instance of my involvement; henceforth, you shall fend for yourself," her voice detached yet commanding, echoing through the cavern's depths.
The full moon outside shone with augmented brilliance; a pillar of dazzling light, surpassing Marilin's gentle emanation, burst forth above their refuge. A tempest of dust and swirling winds was swiftly dispelled; a stupendous explosion erupted, centered upon Marilin and the baby.
The cyan-blue radiance ascended like a celestial beacon, touching the heavens, visible to all awake beings across vast distances– nobles, kings, and emperors alike, many of whom bowed in reverence, presuming divine descent. The surrounding terrain felt the convulsion, akin to a mighty earthquake, rumbling through nearby towns.
Marilin opened her eyes, bewildered by the transformation: the cliff and cave were utterly obliterated, leaving no vestige of their prior sanctuary. The storm had vanished; the explosion's force had dispersed the snow clouds, rendering the area clear beneath the moon's gentle illumination. A vast, crescent-shaped depression marked the ground, as if a meteorite had struck. The two hundred and thirty-four wolves were reduced to mere ashes.
Marilin gazed upon the baby, who showed signs of improvement, and pondered: "The Goddess of Light was willing to unleash such formidable power merely to safeguard this child?" Her astonishment was profound. In all recorded history, no mortal had directly communicated with the gods – not priests, nor elves, or other esteemed beings. Yet for this child, a deity had intervened with extraordinary might.
"I shall cherish and protect this child as my own," Marilin thought, lifting the baby from the basket, wrapping him in her warm cloak. She returned to her dwelling, contemplative and honored.
Meanwhile, in the Underworld's palace, a throne was occupied by an entity, with unclear features, humanoid in form, its eyes closed, adorned with a crown radiating ominous red energy. Its tattered attire belied an aura of power and dominion.
Entity: "Aria, my vassal!" The chamber erupted in purple flames, illuminating the space. Aria appeared, kneeling, attired in unique black armor with glowing red tracings, her hair blood-red, eyes piercing, skin pale as alabaster.
Aria: "At your command, my sovereign!" Entity: "Unveil the source of this energy. I sense a power above, notable yet not paramount among your kind. Demonstrate your prowess, Archon of Chaos."
Aria: "As you command, my liege. It shall be done," she vanished, transforming into swirling wind. As Marilin crept back into her house, the clock struck 2:05 AM. The silence was palpable, broken only by the soft snores of her husband and the gentle rustle of her children's breathing. She approached the crib, where baby lay, sleeping, and gently placed him beside her son, Randell. The similarity in their features was striking, as if they were indeed brothers.
Marilin's eyes lingered on her family for a moment before she began packing essentials into a cloth sack. The winter air was biting, and she knew they would need warm furs to survive. She added food and coins to the sack, her movements quiet and deliberate.
As she woke Aris, the child stretched and yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "What's going on, Mother?" she whispered. "We're leaving," Marilin replied, her voice low and urgent. "We need to get out of here, now."
Aris nodded, her eyes wide with excitement and a hint of fear. Together, they slipped out of the house, into the cold night air. The journey to Ranon village was uneventful, but the scenery was breathtaking. The morning breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers and fresh grass as they traveled through forests and deserts.
The landscape was dotted with strange creatures: vegetarian lizards the size of cars, birds with horns and tails, and elephants that seemed to be no larger than ants. As they rode the merchant's coach, Marilin briefed Aris on their situation. The child's eyes widened as she listened, her mind racing with questions and doubts. But she was intelligent and resourceful, and soon she began to understand the gravity of their situation. "What's his name?" Aris asked, gazing at the new baby, who lay sleeping in Marilin's arms.
END OF CHAPTER 1