Chapter 3, A Missing Link

Broken glass amongst the dirt floor, and stains that mark the cream colored walls. An elder fox in his mid-fifties can be seen setting in an old tarnished wooden chair with a glass bottle firm in his grasp. Almost as if he cherished it deeply.

“Come on you waste. You are going school!” A deep voice called out, still sitting in his chair with his transparent bottle. “So help me if you are late you disappointment!” The old fox grunts and acts with anger.

“Come now honey, you know what happened wasn’t his fault!”

“Then whose was it?”

The woman paused, and the stained room filled with guilt. Shards of glass still lay on the floor beneath where the bottles had shattered. Holes in the dirt walls remain webbed from nesting spiders and doorframes hold no purpose. They stand no longer with great support but rather cracked splintering wood drooping inside the frame walls.

“It’s okay Aunt Eden, he means well, I know he does.”

The floors even made from dirt shared the same stains the walls did. Windows were oddly full and looked almost untouched. There was a pile of dust in the window frame, and the curtains were gray from all the dust. Unpulled, the house remains in the dark, lighted with nothing more than a lamp.

Sylar, however, was getting use to the way his uncle treated him. It wasn’t right be any means, but there wasn’t anything he could do at the time. It wasn’t time for Sylar to head to school. There was an hour gap between the time his uncle told him to go and the actual time he was suppose to be in class.

Quickly- trying not to let intrusive thoughts get the best of him, Sylar gathers his homework and misplaced papers that were placed on his rotted desk. The miscellaneously placed papers weren’t important, not to the teacher anyways. Sylar uses any scrap paper he can find to write ideas that course through his mind.

Sylar’s room, covered by no more than a worn sheet was cluttered. Filled with books, and scattered paper made up most of his clutter. He found a passion to write after his parents passed, and kept it as an escape for when he needed it. Obviously his mind would churn up some wicked stories.

Rushing off to the field, frightened (who wouldn’t be). Sylar’s aunt sticks up for him once again. Hoping to lighten the mood of the distraught elder. “Why must you be so hard on him? He has been through so much and you only make things worse on him!”

Not a word was said, Harnold just gave a menacing glare. A sign he wanted her to stay out of it. His wife knew why he was so upset with Sylar, but she also knew nothing was his fault. It was just one of those hatreds that grew stronger from memories. Unfortunately, Sylar was a memory.

“Harnold-” she was stopped before she could get any further than his name.

“What! It is what it is. Look, I need to clean up the messes Sylar hasn’t yet! That lazy kid doesn’t know how lucky he has it.”

“Harnold! You had a much easier life than he has and you know it. What changed you?”

Thinking long about what Eden said, he didn’t respond, he knew nothing Sylar did caused what had happened. It was just a freak accident.

“Eden, tell me this, why did we have to adopt him? Everything was going great... until we adopted him.”

“He needed a home! You can’t be that oblivious to why we choose to bring him in! You use to love being around him when he first arrived too, where did that go? Where did he go wrong within that 10 years?

Ten years ago, when Sylar was first brought in by his aunt and uncle everything was at peace. Sylar got along perfectly with their daughter, as they played after school like any siblings should. She helped Sylar get over his depression for the most part, as much as one can help. While Sylar became her best friend.

“Sylar just has something around him, I’m not sure what it is but he is cursed Eden, cursed.” Harnold finished the last sip of his beverage, and he got up to get another. He was wearing a white stained T-shirt, with red striped boxers.” Matted fur covered a good portion of his body while he walked around with his spare tire.

Harnold made his way to the cooler, which held his pick of thirst quenching liquids. The cooler was dug out low on the floor, found within the kitchen. With a decline from the living room to the kitchen to reach a further depth in the ground where it keeps cool at anytime of the year.

“He isn’t cursed!” Eden says in a voice that sounded like she was just ready to give up. It was pointless to convince him otherwise.

“He is Eden, the sooner you realize that the better.” Harnold mentions while thinking back on the day that changed everything for him. He pops the metal cap off his beverage, and heads back to his well worn out, stained chair. “Look Eden, as much as I would love to talk about all of this, perhaps it can wait another day. I have some outside work that needs to get done.”

Chapter 2 Festival Fires

A rhino, thick skinned and heavily worn, comes barreling into the center of the party where DJ’s perform atop a desert rock, large enough to fit an entire band. Animals from all around have come to live in the unitized village, block the incoming rhino from obtaining the microphone any faster.

The crowd in an uproar, yelling at the rhino to get off the stage. That wasn’t enough to scare him though. He, though tough looking, seemed to be far more worried about something else.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“Get off the stage.”

Many still screamed through the distraction of the festival music.

“Hey, guards! Come get this civilian off the stage!”

The rhino vigorously reaching for the microphone. His big rock like hands tosses it from side to side, making him scramble to prevent it from hitting the ground. After a few failed attempts of grabbing the mic, and flinging guards off his shoulders, the rhino finally finishes his quest, only to start another.

Panicking even more. He tries to pick his brain to find words that form a correlating sentence to excuse his interruption. Out of breath, he is finally able to utter his warning. Putting everyone else in a panic.

“The orange wisp, it BrEathes on our turf yet again!” The rhino panting into the microphone.

The crowd scatters, running into each other. Not even taking into consideration… they aren’t sure where this “chaos” is located. You can hear several faint screams from within then load uproar, caused, not by the Dj’s on stage, but a simple fan warning the others of the miscues fire.

“We’re all going to die!”

“We’ve lost… EVERYTHING!”

“The unity has been tampered!”

“Everyone, please just calm down! Let us decide what’s happening. We are the emergency responder after all, not you.” The angry hippopotamus states, hoping everyone would calm down. Hysteria, however, got the best of the over reacting crowd. The emergency responder got up on the stage, glared at the rhino, and pulls the microphone from his brisk hands. Continuing to tell the crowd to calm down. Eventually, the fans did, and by doing so, they found the fire, along with the charred remains of plants and homes.

The forest frontier had been hit with the uninvited guest, as it danced around destructively.The once thriving terraform is now looked at nothing more as a desolate area that won’t bring life anytime soon. Trees looked rotted and dead like they had been there for years, the ground was covered with ash, ruining the grounds properties for growth. Smoke had covered the great united city and slowly settled, creating a haze.

Unsure of what happened, everyone just stood like jade statues. Some were frozen to be worshiped, some were frozen as an elitist, others were frozen as if they were one. All frozen as time was stopped. Gates weren’t finished, fleeing wasn’t an option, the civility was dispirited.

Thawing, the crowd stops in sorrow, with a tight feeling a great loss heavy in their chests. “The damage should heal over time. But--” One of the responders broke the silence, still moving debris. The civilians gather around weeping over their loss. “There happened to two casualties, unfortunately.” Take her straw woven hat marking her as a rescue; the rest followed with obedience.

They all stare at the remaining burnt trunks, that glow of charcoal dust, and the smell of a festival fire. The tree tops were completely gone, no trace left in the ashes the ground was now made of. Lastly, homes and dens didn’t have a place within that claimant anymore. Life within this sector would no longer flourish, not like it used to.   

Off in the distance, were bushes still stand, sets a young animal who appears to be a kit. Hiding behind a few rows of leaves and branches, watching the adults and other children mourn uncertain of everything that place. The kit was sure something terrible happened, with the horrid looks the adults gave while staring at the reminisces of a den.

“M-mother? Father?” Not only was the smoke causing his eyes to tear, but his eyes began to tear up once he saw who’s den it was. Intrusive thoughts held tight in his mind that his parents didn’t make it out in time from the thick fires wall; they didn’t join in the celebration.

The Night’s tranquility came to an end

Chapter 1: Childhood

In a land; orderly pieced together, allowing a section for each biological terraform to live peacefully amongst the different climates, a group of young animals gather; setting up decorations, for the upcoming festivities in the young night as it ages, honoring the ancestors that made the unity between all species possible, amongst the fast growing civilization occupying the mass they all know and love today.

A lion cub- exhausted from his hard work that took place in the schoolyard, excited to see he is “almost” finished making the decorations handed to him. Paper, glue, and thinly wound string attracted to his paws; he holds his project by the thread used to hang the ornament to show off his accomplishment.

“I’m finally done! I can’t wait to start hanging these, this is my favorite time of the school year!”

“You are just excited because you don’t have to do this tedious work anymore.” an angered high pitched voice calls out from a red, orange tinted squirrel. Looking at her fur, you could tell she wasn’t a very handy person.

The lion cub looks over at her only in petty. He laughed at her.

“And you are only jealous because I only made a mess of my hands”

The room, well, open field full of children only knew of one manner in which to act. Laughter shattered through the wide open, putting Kelcy (the squirrel) in a hidden bent posture, hoping that would prevent everyone from looking at her, though it didn’t help.

“Hey now kids, let’s not spoil each others day with unnecessary remarks. Today is a special day and should be lived like the rest. You know we don’t pick on others, so don’t start today, Thank you!” Miss Walters, a Gazelle trying to lift the gloomy aroma from the field.

Both the lion cub and Kelcy apologize to the teacher by putting their paws together “Sorry” came from beneath the breath of the two young animals, politely bowing to Miss Walters and the rest of the class.     

“It won’t happen again, Miss Walters.” Kelcy reassuring the teacher. Under her breath, she manages to slip out “At least not when you are around.” without the adult figure hearing.  

All the students rounded up with their finished; not all nice and neat, but young crafted projects, the floating orb. Volunteers began to show up, knowing the students were given a strict deadline -- 2:30 PM, for the cities decorations; to help Miss Walters keep the young animals tame, while they hang “stars” on the vintage beams of businesses, and open marketplaces.

“Alright kids, you are all dismissed!” She nearly shrieked with excitement. “Hope to see you all at the festival tonight, and remember- it only takes ONE person… to make a difference.” Miss Walters was talking about the cause that made this celebration possible among the amalgamate.

A kit sluggishly makes his way back to his den after overshadowing the fun that took place in the field, where others helped each other creating and decorating the city. The rest of the kids either went home, or roamed back to the school, laughing, playing, and just having a great time.

The kit’s site picks up an older looking fox outside, working on what seemed to be a broken shutter, attached to a home made of sticks and mud, the door was round, and so was the window located on the right of the home.

“What’s wrong son?” Marvin; the kits dad asked, seeing the distant look on his son’s face. He was heartbroken to see a talented mind suffer, with not much to sustain it. Marvin felt responsible; only able to watch, and nothing more than a pill to help ease the pain. “I’m sorry there isn’t much I can do to help. I want to, you know I do, and I’m trying my best, I’m just not sure how to.”

Sylar looked at his father while tears began to form. Slowly, he walks toward his room. Thoughts ravage his mind; “No one wants you around”, “It’s all in your head”, “You have OCD? That must mean you are crazy.” The intrusive thoughts only strength each time he tried to fight them.

A wooden thud pierces through the air, caused by a furry paw. “Sylar-- do you mind if we talk outside?” Gingerly the kit accepts, questioning why his father would be calling him outside to talk. They begin climbing a marula tree just outside the doorway to their den; his father wanted him to be closer to the stars while they talked.

“Do you know what’s special about today?” Marvin asked, gazing into the shadows the stars created in the young, night's sky.

“N-no, I don’t. I know it holds deeply in the heart of our civility, but that’s about it. I don’t understand how such a big deal could be made over something as such.” Sylar looks down with disappointment strong in his sight.

“A city, filled with life, from any imaginable, terraform, fit for each animal; gathering around the night’s setting, ominous stars, fire built for festivities to break loose amongst the great unity; dancing a ritual, to honor those whom made this colony, and now we celebrate the memorable day, our ancestors created for us; a city of all species. Son, I promise you, once you reach far enough to obtain your star; the star that shines the brightest and glows the greatest, things will get easier, just follow your dreams.”

“How do I know which is mine?” Sylar looked up into the luminescent sky at the brightly shining stars.

“No son, you won’t find your stars up there. You can find it, awaiting your arrival; your star lives within you!” Marvin said with a bit of a smirk in his tone.

“I still don’t fully understand? What do you mean it’s inside me?”

a

“You may still be a bit too young to fully grasp what I am saying. But trust me… the older you get the more you will understand, and the more you will learn. Eventually, you will understand what this night was all about.”

“But- what if someone gets to my “star” before me?” Sylar was a bit concerned. Though he doesn't understand what his dad means, he still worries over of. Sylar’s ponders for a bit with a stern look in his eyes, while he waits for his dad to come up with an explanation. “Could- could someone have already taken my “star”.”?

“No, no, only you have the power to obtain the aroma filled speckles.”

“Stars? I thought there was only one?”

“There are many lesser stars you will need to reach before getting your final one. Think of it like a tree. Ever wonder what happens to a tree if the main stem dies? This can happen with the trunk of a tree and even branches. You see several trees where the trunk or branches slip off in a few different directions. This is because sadly the main stem wasn't strong enough to withstand that battles of life but, no need to worry because two new stems will compete to see if either or maybe even both with survive. Even trees reach out to their stars, though, theirs. You can see all the different paths the take. Ours, however, we can’t, so make the most of the paths you choose!”

Not sure how else to explain the star situation to his six year old son.Marvinn continues on with his motivational speech, hoping it will help his son in the future. He very well could just say that stars are his goals in life, but it will be more meaningful if Sylar found out on his own.

“My dad- he told me, just like now; I was in the same position you are now. He told me something I'd never forget till this day. He told me that when I get down enough that I think harming myself would make all the pain disappear, make everything instantly better, and forget the past. That I wouldn't be here if I wasn't meant to be here. And now I see it. I am here to help guide my son. I truly hope this talk helped you sylar. I know it won't be easy for you to see clearly now. But hopefully once you are older you can piece together this conversation and always keep it in mind.”

“Okay dad, can I go to the festival now?”

Little was anyone pying attention. A little friend stopped by the forest district while everyone was out having a blast. It joined them in their ritualistic dance, though barely celebrating alongside them. It danced with a lively orange- red glow, consuming homes and housing additions as it recklessly moves.

Disconnected

(Unfinished)






A family, of a lost mother, and a father who couldn’t grip reality anymore. A family that lost everything, and even more! The devil just couldn’t stop after taking the mother of two, but also by taking the career of a not so famous author, but one who could live off income from his royalties. If you thinks that’s as bad as it will get, may demons have you fooled? The family was a mother, father, son, and daughter. They lived happily, until the mother passed, giving birth to her daughter, Arial.


No one had blamed Arial for what happened, it wasn’t her fault? That didn’t mean anything to her though, she had thought many people, even her brother, and father accused her of the death of a dear loved one. She was diagnosed with anxiety and depression at a young age-still in grade school-. Nothing pleased her, nothing even seemed to be real to her, almost like her mind itself fell asleep… numb. Later in life, when she reach the high school, the kids she thought to be friends turned, and bullied her about her deceased mother. Months had gone by, even years, the same happened each day!


A couple days ago, she was diagnosed with with a rare form of cancer not wanting to take treatment. She believed to be God’s punishment for her mother’s passing.Stunning both my father and I, we were dumbfounded as what were to come next. We couldn’t believe how much bad luck we have had! We’ve had enough, and maybe God doesn’t think so, why? My father always says bad luck only means nothing but a good story. Well father, you sure have one hell of a story if you combine all the bad stuff that has happened the last few years!


How do I handle all of this? Well I don’t, I may not show it, but I am in pain. What is there for me to do though? I can’t live in the past. I can’t live thinking God doesn’t know what he is doing either. He will care for us, and if it is time for someone to go, than so be it!


You see though, I’m not the only one who too has this large weight, holding me down. The other day, I had taken a walk-when my sister was diagnosed- to the park. Hoping to clear my mind a bit to soak up this blood, trying to see the path. I neared a stone arched bridge, hearing a faint sounds coming from under it. I got close, hearing a depressing song, matching the tone of day I was having.


Rounding the corner of this paved tunnel I was astonished! There stood the most beautiful, astounding girl I has ever seen! She was on the short side, with blond flowing curls that met her shoulder blades. She was around my age -17- though, she didn’t look familiar. Something was wrong though? Her clothing, it wore of grim and tares. She had shorts on along with a shirt that covered her arms up to her elbows, the rest of what use to be a long sleeve T-shirt aged away. I wouldn’t think much of it, if fall hadn’t just hit, leaving a bruise on nature, knocking leaves off the trees and turning them a yellow-orange color. She was homeless?!


How could someone, with such staggering beauty at her age, not have a home? I confronted her, first by small talk, than leading it into my bad luck and all that’s happened. Hoping she would at least give me a brief summary to why she isn’t with her parents.


They both had died, she was new to town. They were in the midst of getting settled in when they both passed. Her mother, a flight attendant was involved in a plane wreck in which her father couldn’t handle living without the welcoming presents of his wife, so he killed himself. It was still hard for her to talk about but something like that should never be easy to talk about, no matter how strong a person you are! We continued talking in which I mentioned how strong she was for even trying to live after hope was gone. She was stranded, no place to go. She knew no one, and know one knew her. Her response was like no other.


It’s hard, not many people my age have lived a life like this! If they have they didn’t live it much longer, to find out what good may come of it. People say suicide is an easy way out, that only the weak choose it as an option to beat depression. You aren’t weak if that is an option to you, by all means you are strong because it takes guts to do something ungodly. That doesn’t make it right still! What does weakness and strength have anything to do with suicide? NOTHING! When you kill yourself you kill every living bit of those you take after for good. They still live inside you- watch over you, to keep you safe.


The world is corrupt, why -when it takes one person to purify- would someone with the experience to change the planet for the better was it all on something like that? People sin, where in the bible does it show you Gods sin meter where murder is on the top, and lying on the bottom? It’s all the same! No matter what you do, God sees sin, as a sin. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t enjoy living with sin and most don’t, some know they live with it, but don’t do anything about it. I hope to do something about it, I want to change the world for the better, show people there is hope, even when in doubt.


Than she went and told me more about her personal life and more about who she was and what she was like.


It seemed like… anywhere I went, no matter who I talked to or who I was around. I hurt them. I could just be standing next to them and I would somehow hurt them, just with me presents. What little friends I had, I fought with and even felt distant from. I felt disconnected from the world, no one to talk to and nowhere to go. I was already dead. Suicide to me now just seems pointless because you can’t kill something past death. What ever happened to me just happen and I took everything with a straight face. No emotion no nothing.


I suffer with claustrophobia, something of which most think deals with tight spots, but it is much more than that. Claustrophobia is about feeling trapped, and not being able to escape at your own will. That is how I feel every second of every day! I feel trapped. I don’t have anywhere to run, because there is nowhere to run too. I can be in a crowd of thousands of people, yet I feel alone and not in the sense I’m the only person who feels this way. I mean in the sense that I utterly feel like I’m the last person alive. It’s because I can’t make the right choices. No matter what I say or what I do, I mess up. It could be a simple hello and I piss someone off. I feel like everyone's against me no matter how much they support me.

I feel as if I am only a burden, my presents is just a wasted effort of trying to open up, showing people that I do exist! Just job I did have before all this went down. I worked, I didn’t complain about the work, no matter how much I didn’t want to do it. I just put a smile on my face, showing the world everything was alright, even in the darkest times. It got to the point I would get called in a good amount. Maybe things were changing for me? Maybe I was finally getting recognized! I was wrong, it only seemed to make things worse. I don’t have my license and I refuse to drive due to that fact I can’t escape at will. I started closing, in which I would need a ride home, my parents didn’t want to pick me up from work that late, so I had to find another way to get home. One of my friends who worked there offered to take me home and then others I worked with began taking me home as well. I felt bad because they were going out of their way, for me! Why would anyone be kind to me? What have I done to deserve such privileges? The more and more it happened the worst things got, though no one knew. I put a mask on every day, hiding my true feelings.

Akio Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“Hey, you, are you all right?” someone says, cautiously approaching a terrified-looking Emi.

“Sir, did you see what happened?”

“N-no, I—I didn’t.”

“Do you remember anything?”

“Well, the only thing I can remember is seeing something floating.  It almost looked like two sai.”

“Is that why you screamed?”

“I’m not sure.  I guess that could be why I screamed.”

A look crossed the stranger’s face.

“What is it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Then do you mind me asking you what you’re doing?”

A scream filled the air once more, only this time with agonizing pain behind it.  Alex falls to the ground, as something has been forced upon him.  Leaning up against the cave wall, thin reddish liquid begins pouring out of him, leaving a puddle of blood beneath him.  It seeps through his clothes where there appears to be a wound.  Something has pierced his side, and the weapon is still there.  The blood creeps its way out of the wound, onto the weapon, and then down to the ground.  Getting dizzy from the blood loss, Alex bravely removes the weapon from his side: it is a sai.  He ends up passing out on the hard, moist cave floor.

“Huh?  Oh, it seems as if that were only a dream.  What a relief.”  Alex listens closely and notices that the storm has finally rolled past the cave.  “I guess it’s time for me to head out of this cave and go back to the village.  Or since I’m already here…It seems like this cave goes far back.  Might as well check it out and see if there’s anything interesting in here.  Why am I in such a rush to get out of here?  It isn’t even morning yet anyway.  I need something to do to pass the time.  I would rest, but that is all I did while I was waiting for the weather to clear.  I must have woken up because it stopped raining.  After all, the rain was quite a peaceful way to fall asleep.  The change in sound must have been the reason I woke up.  That or that horrible nightmare I had.  Might as well do something to pass the time, and I might as well go exploring.  I just hope I can find my way out of this place, though.  I wonder what could be back here since a hidden door is needed.  Wait a minute, how far back did I go?  It seems to me this door hasn’t moved in ages.  Meaning no one of this generation or even past would know of this secret.  I might have just discovered something that is worth my time being back in here.  Now let’s just hope I can get the door open at least to take a quick peek.”

Alex goes up to the door and begins pushing on it in hopes it would be an easy task to get it open.  After a little time just before his endurance gave out, he manages to get the door open just a crack.  He rests a bit and gets back up and begins to give it a go one last time.  This time he has no problem opening the door the rest of the way, almost like he was the god of strength.   That very door had been sealed for eternity, making it impossible for the average person to open it, and the mysteries that await behind the door are revealed.

Creeping in, Alex is not sure what to he’ll find.  There are many spiderwebs that hang from the ceiling and on the walls.  Strangely enough, there are no spiders to claim which web is theirs.  After fully entering the room, there is a smell of musk in the air that makes the room feel even more ancient.

“This place certainly has not been found in a while.  That’s a good sign for me, I guess.”

Walking further into the hidden room, Alex stumbles upon a raised area in the middle of the room.  The raised area has something on the top of it.  It is covered in spiderwebs and dust that had built up in the years it has been silent.  It is too dark for Alex to see what the object may be, so he reaches out and picks up what feels like a scroll.  Trying to find some source of light, he leaves the room and works his way back out of the cave.  The only source of light he is able to find is somewhere close to the mouth of the cave.  Depressed about the one object being the only thing he could find in the room, he begins to read what is written on the scroll beneath the dust that somehow had gotten onto the scroll itself.  Still hoping that it would have been a great find, he realizes it is after reading the word “Akio.”  Alex then knows who it is talking about.  Akio used to live in the village Alex lives in, so Alex knows some history about him.  Alex slowly opens the scroll completely, trying to hide the fact that he is excited to see what it has to say about Akio.  After slightly opening it, he can’t wait any longer, then rushes to reveal the words of the legend.  He attempts to read what is uncovered and what wasn’t ruined by the aging of the scroll.  As he begins to read, he passes out from all the musk that had built up in the hidden room, as it flooded his lungs unknowingly when he opened the door to the room.  The dust was heavy, and the cobwebs were thick.  When he opened the door, the air around him wasn’t fit to be breathed, but he didn’t know this.

Akio Chapter 1

Akio Chapter 2

Akio Chapter 3

Sorrowed Hills

Part 1 of 2

A man, old and brittle, muscles still visible, almost like he still worked out, makes his way over to a hut. Walking over he uses his sturdy broken pickaxe as a cane, he stands slumped over at about five foot five. Oil and grease stain his rugged clothing, muscular arms, and wrinkled face. Hanging from his broad shoulders a cream colored apron with scorch marks and worn holes from age. Obsidian gloves crafted from leather wrap tightly around his hands in attempt to bear heavy burns that would come.

The old man, limping with a broken pickaxe; used in place of a cane. Slowly approaches a low class cottage built of scrap wood thrown out by the wealthy, left to decay. A garden sets in front of the lawn with an astounding young lady attending the luscious vegetables so they don’t whether.

The woman, in her late twenties, stood the average height of a five foot two. A hazelnut pigment in the shape of a ponytail covered the top of her head, reminding the man of a forging fire as it glowed to the rays from the sun. She wore a tattered linen dress, almost as if it were her gardening outfit, from the embedded soil that was smudged all about her ware. She yields a steel tool, taking shape of a half circle, with the blade face inward to remove the invading plants, that never seem to disappear.

Off to the side of the garden the old man catches a glimpse of a young child, prancing around with a small pink wand in one hand, and the potion that allows her to magically summon small orbs, that flow along with the gentle wind. The girl, no older than ten, wore her hair the same as her mother's, only hers had a light brown tint. After having a pleasant time, it didn’t take long for her to notice a familiar face strolling up the dirt paved street. The girl stops her wizardry to run up the path, greeting the elderly man.

Wondering what possibly got the girl all worked up, the young woman glanced over to see what her child's focus was set to next, and couldn’t help to grin.

“Haru, what might this delightful visit be for?” The mother chatters once the aged man gets closer, with his new little campaign.

A man, unseen from before, begins to work his way down the disintegrating ladder, with a concerned look on his face. Still being polite to his unannounced guest, his motions his head in a greeting fashion, down from the ladder.

“Hello there sir, what may I owe this pleasant visit to?” The man speaks with a hidden tone of worry.

“Haru, would you like anything to drink?” The woman behind the thick wall of healthy tomato plants, politely asks.

“No, but thank you for the offer Asumi. I don’t plan on staying long.” Haru cleared his voice as it rang with sorrow. “Sorry Asumi, I would love to stay longer and visit, but I came to talk to Katu.”

Katu’s face grew drerry.

“Daddy?”

“Yes Yuki, I came to speak with your father.” Hatu’s stomach bunched up, as if it wasn’t already hard enough for him. Haru had spent most of his time with this family, paying them short visits after a long day at the blacksmith, keeping Yuki entertained, helping out with maintenances on their worn out home. They were Haru’s life long friends, even though he was much older than them, he still looked up to them. No matter how bad a situation got, they pulled out of it. Haru felt a bit of regret and guilt for what is about to come, but he had no other choice as the Blacksmith had a decreasing number of customers.

Changing his mind, he decided to take Katu’s wife up on her offer. “Asumi, I suppose I wouldn’t mind a quick cup of black tea. Katu, why don’t you grab yourself something to drink too and follow me up the trail so we can talk for a bit.” The sun grew old, but the 80 degree humid day didn’t, even though night was around corner.

“Okay sir. Asumi I can grab the drinks, don’t you worry about it.” Katu quickly runs inside to grab him and his boss a nice cool refreshing cup of black tea. The glasses had beads of water dripping off them by the time Katu made it back outside.

“Are you ready Katu?”

“I think so Haru.” Katu afraid to say much more.


Haru and Katu work their way down the dirt path a while, sightseeing in silence, They both looked in the same general location, spring had just weathered away so there weren’t many astonishing sights, other than what flowers trees kept a hold of. After a bit longer, getting tired of the heat, Haru took a sip of his semi-cool refreshment, trying to make it last until they got back to Katu’s home, though it wasn’t looking too promising. Than he finally got up the courage to start the conversation he came to speak.

“Katu, I didn’t want it to come to this, I really like having you work with me and all, but we haven’t had enough business for both of us to work up at the forgery. I’m sorry, but I have to let you go. I will be sure to let you be the first to know when we have enough customers to support both us and the shop!"

A deep silence broke out between them once again. Katu wasn't to sure what to say. He didn’t want his master to pity him, but he also couldn’t do without that job. His family, considered a lower class residents, couldn’t afford not having a source of income. Haru on the other hand felt bad. Katu after all was his best and only worker, but he had to make a tough choice of either losing his beloved shop, or his one of a kind worker. if he choose to lose his shop than what good what that have been for Haru? Katu would lose his job either way so the best option for Haru was to fire Katu.

Living in poverty, it really put Katu in a bad state of mind. A few moments later Haru had went ahead and worked his way back to the into the silence of the town as dawn slowly creeped upon them, Leaving Katu in peace to sort things out, and grasp the event that just took place.

After about a mile, Katu decides to turn back about, and hit the inn for their specialty alcoholic beverage to relieve some of the stress.

“Ah Katu, I was beginning to get worried. It isn’t like you to miss your six o'clock drink. What have you been up to today?”

Glaring at the bartender, not holding his emotions back one bit, he finally manages to slip a few words from his dry, dehydrated mouth from the long walk in the heat and humidity.

“Nothing good I’m afraid of. I lost my job, we didn’t have enough support from our customers. It was either I lose my job, or Haru closes the smiths. I take pride for Haru’s decision, it was a hard one on his hands, but in the end he did what was best. It would have been pointless and stupidity for him to close the shop on my account, because either way, I would be without a job. There is no sense in running two people out of out of bread money when there is still hope for one.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. I’m glad to see that you are taking this fairly well. I suppose I wont be seeing you around here much then, at least not until you get on your feet again?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Katu sat in silence for the rest of his time there. He sorted through options trying to find out where he can work next. Nothing came in mind, which left him to dribble with one unpleasant way to make money. Katu skimmed them room before deciding any further to see if anyone posted fliers. Noticing something behind the counter of the key holder, Katu spotted that someone was in need to be rescued on a thick book. He took it upon himself, even though he was sure he wasn’t suppose to see that book as he has never seen it there before, to go to the rescue. Wobbling on his way out he heads back up the path where Haru took him, heading to the thick canopy of trees. Katu didn’t pay much attention as to where the young lad was, he just knew the general direction of which to head. Being in shorts, it was a bit of a task for Katu to breeze through the viny forest floor through the dark without worrying about what creepy crawlers he had to shoo off his legs.

After about an hour of aimlessly wandering around Katu had seen something the struck his interest, there was a bare spot in the middle of the forest, almost like a settlement was once there. Prowling around the area to research more on the mysterious barren he had come across a young follow laying about on the cold damp ground, surprisingly nothing scavenged him for meat while he was past out. Bugs made sure to steer away as if there was a force field of some sort protecting him. Katu was certain this was the stranger that needed rescuing, and searched no further. He had wore himself out with the tedious swatting throughout his adventure.

Lifting the boy on his broad shoulders Katu heads back to the inn to place the human in a safe environment for the night. On his way back out of the woods thick greens Katu thought more and more about what he came up with back at the Inn and made up his mind. He would turn to theft, to continue to support his loving family.