Chapter 2

It was raining.

As he was reaching the end of the city, -which he still didn’t know the name of- the roads were getting wider and the houses were getting less. The sound of drops hitting the ground was the only thing he could hear, and it varied according to where the water fell. On the land, it was a soft splash on the wet grass; on the buildings, it was like a crack in little emeralds. These sounds made an infinite beat in his head, repeating every time he passed an empty road or a building with a flat roof.

Everything seemed darker and gloomier under the rain. The walls were grey, but the sky maroon now. It was a reflection of the color of the land in the waters above. The sky did look grey once he stared deep in it, but as soon as the rain got more intense, it kept him from seeing more than the fancy surface concealing the previous color behind. This abandoned city with few nameable colors in it could perplex him for reasons he couldn’t describe. Maybe he was observing everything too deeply, or maybe he didn’t observe enough at all.

The thoughts of what would have changed if he didn’t do the things he had done in the past made him amble leisurely, ignore the sense of being wet, and forget about the temperature of his hands under his arms; such deep reflections. Or maybe just memories. How can your own head hunt you after all? At least a memory is based on something empirical. Oh, he said out loud, I don’t know what’s going on in me anymore.

‘Talk.’ Said a voice. ‘Please, in your language.’ She was mentally ill. She had been sitting on a bed of a room with a small fire burning next to her, for the past 20 minutes motionless, staring at him. Her face was a mixture of dim red light and shadow, her eyes covered by the dark, his gaze trying to pierce the black layer and see if she was blinking or not. He wanted to assure himself that she was sitting asleep, not a motionless freak like that. But she was awake, for she suddenly lowered her chin on her chest, remained in that pose for 5 minutes straight, and when looked up again, her cheeks reflected her tears. And at that moment she said those words; ‘Talk... Please... You can talk in your language.’ Then he killed her.

Rain. He fell out of the memory. Regardless of the nerves which brought every single image he hated forward into his sight; it was such a scene out here, one for sore eyes. But maybe only for him; since he needed a change in his life, so what better than a change resonating his mood, a brain that had gotten used to bleakness as much as producing dopamine while getting more of it. But after a moment of reflection, depicting the view of those dead buildings covered with 2 wild colors from the bottom and top under the rain as ‘pleasant’ or ‘nice’ felt chilling for him. Following the change in his place, -which obviously he was in another world now- could he also make an alteration in the way he absorbed things? he decided. Well, better to be less spontaneous for now, because right in front was the end of the city. No walls, no gates, just the start of an empty road among the endless hills. He could travel faster now. Much faster, he mumbled.

He had had some bad nightmares, he had seen pretty horrific scenes and wars; still what he saw at that moment in the corner of his eyes was like when he felt the fear for the first time. As soon as he turned his head, it was gone. The next thing that popped into his mind was something he had heard before: “How you want to elude those creatures?”

He immediately focused on a location ahead, then vanished and appeared at that place. He turned back to look at the city far away and saw two things. First, a shadow standing in front of him, without a clear shape, or any shape at all. It was just a piece of tall shadow in the air, and the stable thing about it was two red round burning eyes, or at least he took them as eyes. Its body had a smoky vibe, a smoke that he believed could be touched and grabbed by hand, since the drops of the rain splashed when contacted its body.

The second thing he saw was a fire in the middle of the city, burning much taller than the buildings in it. A fire? In the rain?

The creature moved toward him, which made him flinch and fall back on the wet ground, his clung hair to his forehead was pouring water in his eyes. It was raining hard. The fear slowly began to creep to his fingers and make them numb, to his head and make it pulse, to his mouth and make it coarse. He tried to focus, focus again on somewhere else, maybe somewhere in the city, but it didn’t work. He had already forgotten.

He was scrambling backward on the grass and water, his breath faster than ever, his heart knocking to his chest, and the next thing he felt was pain. It was so fast, so immediate, that corrupted every picture in his mind, as he jumped from the ground and fell several feet away. The pain was like a hot long needle in his flank, piercing from back to his belly. He was face down now to the ground, his hand on his kidney, he looked aside, and saw a thin stick-like shadow on the ground pointing to the sky where he was laying before. That damn creature. It would do it again. He had to concentrate. He could go back, whoever burned that fire may know how to deal with these. So he turned to watch the city, and the next second he was back where he first saw these creatures. Following the fire, was his main mission now. When he stood up, he could see other shadows wandering around him. So he was picturing the path in front of his eyes and made himself be faster by appearing at that place.

Moments later he was on a wide road that led to the vast field he first met those boys and girls. This time surrounded by fire. The fire was burning both in the road and on the buildings, and the weird thing was that it didn’t have a source, it was just coming out of whatever surface beneath it. The very tall burning buildings made a majestic blaze, and most others had grown maroon grass on their walls for at least a floor up, on both sides of every road, and this one was no exception. It was raining intensely from the silent sky, just the eloquent splashes of the drops. The reflection of different colors in that exact view and moment could confuse his eyes and the sounds could fill his ears. But... he heard a voice.

“Hey,” it was a feminine voice. THAT feminine voice.

He stepped forward and shouted, “is that you?”

“I thought that we had a pact. Otherwise, these accidental visits can make me really pessimistic.” It was coming from the field, inside the circular fire.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You know what happened.”

“Yeah, but I still don’t know the things I want to know. You see, they say there are things this generation has never ever seen. But these friends of mine... well, they don’t let me get insane enough to believe that.”

“My dead body can convince no one.” Was his tone firm enough? He thought.

Silence for a moment. “Save your life, permission granted.” She said aloud.

He chuckled, even though there wasn’t anything funny about the way she talked. A grey wall appeared at the end of the road, killing the whole fire at that place, and when it disappeared, he could have a clear look of the field before the flame filled back its place. He closed his eyes to imagine. The next moment he was in, standing in front of those teenagers with stained faces, messed up hair, and ragged clothes. She was standing ahead of them, with a tall lean boy next to her. Their wet clothes attached to their bodies, their hair and lashes sources of waterfall, her hands in her jean pockets and his hands under his arms; they almost matched the wild scene around them.

“These creatu...”

“Valashis,” she interrupted. Their voices mingled beautifully with the rain trickle, he noticed.

“These Valashis,” he continued, “took a surprisingly lot of time back here, I got lucky.”

“They can only live in the rain,” she said, her tone matching the weather. “Fire scares them.”

“Well, thank you for letting me in.”

She just blinked.

“Too much effort to be nice,” said the boy next to her. “What’s your next plan? Wipe our shoes?”

“It’s okay Plesh,” she objected. “And I am Rexom,” she told him. “You can tell me yours.”

He hesitated. “My name is Maklevien.”

“A damn long name,” she said.

“You can call me Vien, or Mak.”

“Why are you here, Mak?”

“I am here to visit king Zefor.”

“Why?”

“Personal business”, he said, which only gained him starings of unblinking eyes. “Well,” he continued, “our rituals say that he welcomes anyone who wants to have a deal with The Merciful. I want to have a deal with The Merciful. But if what you say is true, if king Zefor and everyone is dead, I ask YOU to tell me where and how I can find The Merciful.”

The boy named Plesh chuckled.

“He welcomes, ha?” Rexom said. “Quite generous of him, don’t you think boys?” And looked around at the phlegmatic faces of others.

“Although very few people had the chance of visiting king Zefor in person through the past hundreds of years, he has a reputation among us for helping those who wanted to end their agony.”

Plesh laughed this time.

“I see that you remember what happened to those older than 17;” Rexom said “well... for your surprise, I must say that it was your kind Zefor who did that,” then brought forward her head and turned her voice into a whisper, “with The Merciful himself.”

Maklevien was out of words for a moment. “What? What are you talking about? Why would he do such a thing?” 

“Well of course he has some kind of justification which will sound very poor and personal if I tell you about it.”

Maklevien took his time to process what he had just been told. The water in his clothes and on his skin became more sensible and assertive during the process. “So what do all these mean?” He asked. “The fact that they turned against you doesn’t mean that it applies to us too. There are histories of communication between our worlds.”

“What’s your deal with The Merciful, Mak?” Rexom asked.

“Something fancy.”

“Then let me tell you about something fancy. He will take away your emotions, your memories, and your body. Your emotions will be in service of him, your memories will turn into nothing, and your body will make a fake version of you who will walk back home. That’s what happens, and that’s what happened to every one of them who came here.”

Maklevien’s head throbbed. “Wha... How... How should I know that you aren’t lying?”

Rexom looked deep into his eyes. “There is no other way to get rid of torment,” she said in utter indifference. “You have to vanish.”

***

“So, this is where you live?” Asked Mak.

“Nah,” Rexom answered. “We have no place. Not specific.”

Maklevien wasn’t feeling comfortable, not yet. She could see it through the way he had walked aside from them after the rain, or at that moment when he was standing at the door scanning inside. Everyone else was in, choosing a room, wandering in the worn-out house, chattering. Except for Plesh, where was he? She hasn’t seen him get in, he might be out. It was his habit, staying away from everyone’s sight and hearing range.

“Come on in,” Rexom said. “We go to the last floor, light a flame.” Then shouted, “Come on guys, to the last floor.”

“Ah great. This wetness is really not pleasant for me.” Said Mak, following her up to the stairs.

“You better get used to it, always a shattered wall.”

“What even happened here?”

“War. More like a rebellion by some frenzy wild dying people. You see, they go nuts at their last moments.”

“Not a calm death then?”

“A calm death is always a reward, no matter what.”

“So, can’t you cover those broken parts when it rains? I mean, no offense but, you seem to have the power.”

“If you want those shadows to make sand out of you, then I might.”

“But I thought you burned a fire to keep them away.”

“Hey look,” Rexom said stepping on the top floor and turning over him on the stairs. “No one wants to work hours only to get the attention of those bastards when we have alternatives, okay? Now stop complaining and sit in that room.”

Maklevien made a face and asked, “which bastards?”

Rexom sighed without answering. He seemed annoying, yes, but gaining his trust might result helpful. And hopefully, it didn’t mean there was the need of telling him everything.

She stood in the roofless hall as Maklevien passed her and entered the room she had pointed. After a moment of uncountable footsteps, the boys and girls arrived then glanced at her as they passed; she was looking down, but it didn’t keep her from noticing those glares. They had heard and they were nervous, however, not everyone was like Plesh, edgy.

She stood there alone, thinking about Plesh, but it wasn’t likely he would come. She entered the room trying to clean her mind, and saw that the room was large, large enough to everyone sit down away from one another with still remaining extra space. And it only meant comfort.

“Hmm, Bez, annnd, May,” she said, scratching her lowered forehead, wondering why her voice was suddenly tired. “Go and get Plesh, bring something to eat.” A boy and a girl left the room. “And Ufery, will you help me light the fire?” With looking at her.

Ufery came to the middle of the room and blew at the floor with her breath as softly as she could. When it was ready, Rexom said “it’s fine. I will do the rest.” Then squatted at the middle of the room, rubbed her hand on the floor, and saw the fire trailing her touch. It was done fast.

“Will you cover the ceiling?” Asked a 14 years old boy named Levar.

“You want it to get poetic, huh?” Rexom said.

“I just want to sleep.” He answered.

“Then sleep,” she replied and focused on the roof. It got cover.

The room turned dark, but at the same time lighten up by the fire. She never understood how to feel about it. The flickering red light on the bleak walls. The way it changed everyone’s skin color like they were both happy and scared. The shadow when she walked away from it, it wasn’t even something to think about. She turned toward Ufery, smiled, and sat on her left, to put her head on her shoulder. Some younger children were laying down and closing eyes, the older ones talking in inaudible whispers. Then she noticed Maklevien on the right, older than everyone, back to the wall watching the fire. She took Ufery’s hand and got a caress on her hair as a response.

“I could burn it,” Ufery whispered. “You seem tired.”

“Naah it’s nothing. I want you to do something else.” Her sound was low too, careful of not waking up someone else.

“What?” Ufery said and smiled. “We aren’t going out now. We better watch our stranger here.”

“Noo, No!” Rexom frowned. “Jeez. Look, do you remember the night when I first did that fire trick on you?”

“Yeah,” Ufery said and chuckled. “You freaked me out.”

“What I want you to do is, to tell me how exactly you felt at that moment and when later you found out it was a trick.”

“Wait, now? After all this time?”

“Come on.”

“Okay, let’s see. At first, I think I thought I was being hallucinated, but then, it struck me as aaa... as a fire that was cursed.” They both laughed with Rexom saying -What does it even mean?- “And I felt dread, I don’t know, it’s hard to remember all those sudden feelings. But I couldn’t believe you were doing that, I just didn’t. And then when I saw you laughing and running away, I felt happy.”

“You never felt distrustful against me?”

“I think not.”

“Do you trust me now?”

Ufery shook her head and asked, “what is it Rexom?”

“It’s just... Plesh, everyone; I hate it when they treat me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Plesh is angry. He has negative thoughts about everyone and everything. And others are too nice to show their defiance.”

“Rexom, you cannot make others like or dislike someone.”

“It’s not only about letting him in. It’s... the whole situation. We aren’t even close to figuring out Tamen. And you know how it is, every second count.”

“Whose turn is next?”

“Vier,” Rexom said staring at the asleep Vier. Innocent girl.

“You think he can help us?”

“I hope. But I don’t like hope.”

Ufery didn’t reply, and after a moment, Rexom took her head off her shoulder, crawled closer to the fire, and looked at Maklevien on the right.

“What?” Mak asked.

“Time to get a decision.”

“About what?”

“Well, it seems that our paths are the same. You want Zefor.”

“Really? After you said what they would do to me?”

“You want to leave then, he is your only way home.”

Maklevien gawked and pulled a hand in his hair.

“When we get to Zefor, I will make him make you leave.”

“In return for what?”

“You can prove useful.”

“How do you want to get to him? What’s your big plan?”

“Three allies. Each controlling one part of the deal. Tamen, with the memory parts. Versitile, the feeling parts. And Ferosh, the body parts. We only know about one of their location, Tamen. He attacked us once when we were fool enough to believe that burning fire in every rain period is safe because the only thing besides magic that attracts Valashis is sound, even the slightest. So being out in the rain with your steps is like suicide. It makes sense right? Who wants to be out looking for a fire? But we were wrong. They made a special force for that. We call them Silentdead. We were lucky they got 2 of us.” She sighed and continued, “and after they were gone, I was able to find out where they went. The same thing I did with you. And I conclude Tamen, for what those three do, well, vary.”

“Wait,” Mak said, “they have a special force? Just for you? What did you do?”

“Apparently, asking people about Zefor’s place is not a good idea. Most others think he did the right thing killing older ones, so they don’t want him to face insurgence. And I am sure Zefor doesn’t feel good about rumors.”

“People?”

“Children.”

“I still don’t know what’s your plan.”

“Get to Tamen, and you are one step closer to finding Zefor. Kill all three, and you wasted Zefor’s source of power.”

“It’s very little to start with.” He said, paused, and continued, “why does he hide? Zefor.”

Rexom looked at the hot flame, contemplating, “I don’t know,” she said.

“Hey, what’s up here?” It was plesh, talking aloud. “What’s with the ceiling?” He was standing at the door with a medium-sized animal in each hand. They were without skin, but she was able to discern through their long legs that they were Rhohor, two in Bez and May’s hands. The two came in.

“Why did you kill them?” Rexom asked looking at Bez.

“His idea,” he said.

“So what? These are too cute to eat?” Plesh asked.

“We talked about it,” Rexom answered.

“Sorry to hurt your feelings girl, but every life worths equal to me. Rhohor, Bax, plants, all the same.” Then he came near the fire, “and these taste better. Now get rid of that roof.”

Rexom did as he said, as he huddled next to the fire and created some thin bars to cook the meat. Others, asleep or not asleep, had woken up to his voice and now were waiting for their meal.

As soon as the cooking was finished, May was ready with a knife and plates, they cut the flesh and served everyone else. Everyone seemed happy about it, but Rexom forced herself to pick up the fork and eat as much as she needed. It wasn’t a time for complaint.

“Tell me,” said Plesh during the meal, pointing at Mak with a fork, “what’s going to happen to him?”

Rexom chewed her morsel, and damn, it did taste good. “He is going to stay with us,” she said glancing at Mak.

“Did you tell him everything?”

“Almost.”

“Look Mak, let me get you something straight. I don’t know why you are here, and I don’t care. But remember a thing, if I notice any kind of seductive, balkiness behavior, you will end up on the same fire you were rescued by.”

“No worries,” Mak said, lifting his hands.

“And no need to be so leery,” Ufery said from behind Rexom.

“Leery? Leery?” Plesh scowled. “Are you mocking me now?”

Vers, the plump short boy, nudged Vier in the arm, and she stood up and came to Plesh. “Hey,” she said. “Come with me.”

Plesh looked up from his shoulder, put down his plate, and left the room.

“Don’t mind him,” Rexom said looking at Mak. “He will know what he is doing. Soon.”

Maklevien nodded.

“You will realize that not everyone is like him,” she said, and weirdly noticed the fire moving upward, looked behind, and said, “Ufery, stop it!”

Ufery smiled, and the flame started moving toward Mak in the air. Mak’s eyes widened up, as he stood back pressed to the wall and shifted eyes on both of them. “Ufery,” Rexom said barely holding her laughter, “do it.”

“What?” Mak shouted. “What is wrong with you?” But the fire was close enough to make him shout. A second later, the flame disappeared into him and made him fall to the ground out of panic. The room filled up with laughter. The fire was back in its place.

“You are a crazy bitch,” Rexom told her laughing herself. “Why did you do that to him?”

Ufery closed to her. “We are not better than anyone,” she said smiling. “Everyone’s the same.” Then brought forward her hand and muttered, “now come. I want silence.”

Sevaine