"People told me that no matter what I do, I could never run. But now whenever they open their mouths, I am the one that has to look behind," — Vayne Valentine, The Crippled Prince. It happened one fine morning. When the birds were singing their songs and the sun gave them the light they wished. Right when the dew disperses all the evil that might have plagued the night before— but alas, it would seem that not every evil was left behind… "No…" …As a mother mourns and grieves for her son. She gently touched his face, not yet even larger than her palm. She caressed his soft cheeks… and a smile shaped on the baby's lips. The babe was not dead, no. But the baby was pale; his arms felt like they would break with just a single soft wind. And his legs, they already were— not even capable of a kick. The babe was not dead, no. But even still, the mother mourned for her son as her soft palms slowly crawled toward his teeny, tiny nose, covering it and his smile completely. "I… I am so sorry

"Kh!""...""...""...You okay? Should we ask them to slow down?""It's… it's fine. I just haven't experienced this kind of quaver cradling my feeble body before.""...Quaver?""Shaking.""Oh… You really do read a lot of books.""Well, it's the only thing I could do."Vayne tried his best to smile; his furrowed eyebrows, however, failed to hide the pain that was crawling through his bones.They have been travelling in a carriage for a few days now. And throughout this linear journey, he and his brother have gotten to know each other.And although he was not able to relate to him, it was good directly hearing stories from others other than his mother."Don't worry, brother. We'll be reaching the border to the Dark Continent soon. After that, we will be……walking." As for Vale, his words could not help but become weak as his eyes slowly landed on Vayne's leg.And as soon as Vayne saw this, he let out a quiet chuckle and patted his twisted leg, "Welcome to my life, Vale. Damned either wa

Death.That was perhaps the only thing in the world that remains and will remain completely unexplainable.After all, there was nothing after it, only a void.How would one explain what it feels? How would one tell anyone?A survivor might have words for it, but that is not death, only 'dying'.Was it cold? Extremely so.Was it hot? Extremely so.Exhausting, energizing— all the feelings, everything, at once. But at the same time, there was nothing.No matter how many books one reads, no matter how many words one knows,The feeling of death will forever remain without description.Death, however, did have a sound.A wail— almost an incessant whisper that traveled through the air like a turbulent whistle."...""..."No. Perhaps that sound was not one of death, but resurrection.A sound that was followed by silence as the eyes of one that was once dead opened. Eyes that see nothing but a blur; almost as if smoke was blanketing everything within its view.Silhouettes, recognizable, but b

"Mom, look… that man is walking without shoes on!""Shh, it's rude to point. We don't know what he's going through, sweetie."In the somewhat small and busy streets of Fergo, Vayne had been walking around for a couple of hours, 3 hours to be exact.And he did nothing but just that. Limping, as he was still not used to walking normally. And as expected, he had been garnering the stares of all the people there.Some of them, even closing down their stalls as Vayne was obviously a crazy person.Fergo was a very small town— everyone knew each other and if there was a person they didn't, then it could only mean one of two things.The stranger was an Explorer from the outside, or someone being escorted by an Explorer.And seeing how young and thin the boy looked, he was surely the latter. And they would usually welcome them with open arms, as new visitors mean new money.But with the way Vayne looked, well— he looked bad for business.Vayne, however, didn't mind the stares. He didn't even n

"I told you, imbeciles, to just let me go.""...""My head hurts, fucking hell… everything… everything looks so slow."A whirring whistle whispered in the air. The clouds of dust and any puddle around Vayne's misty silhouette, rippling away like an endless barrage of raindrops were falling on them."You… you're a Blessing Holder!?""What? What was that? Can you speak faster? Oh… oh wow, this is weird.""..." The voice that was coming out of Vayne sounded weird; almost as if his voice was multiplied but at the same time muffled. It sounded… ethereal.The thugs then watched as Vayne's hand was suddenly raised. And then almost instantly, it looked as if he was looking at them one by one— it was hard to discern what it was he was truly doing."You guys… should run," Vayne then muttered, "I… can't control this well."Everything looked slow. Vayne could see the specks of dust in the air floating ever so slowly as he breathe through them; the ripple beneath his feet, he could see every wave