Blossom

A faint and pure blossom that contrasted harshly with the stark night sky falls onto the ground. Another falls, then another. The air is filled with a flurry of the pure, white flowers, covering the ground in a soft blanket of petals. Not a sound is heard, not even the gentle brush of the blooms gracing the earth. 
The trees who had the beautiful flowers hold nothing now, their gifts floated away in the air. The land was empty, the only things were those lovely blossoms and the empty and dead trees.
And so the earth was quiet. Not even the sound of the gentle wind was heard, nothing in the land was heard. Forevermore, the earth was quiet...
As the sun rose the next day, everything on that pure and untouched earth disappeared. Turned into dust. The shaking, sweeping winds blew the powder into the bright and harsh air, never to be seen again. And after that day, after the brilliance of life and then death, nothing ever grew on that earth again. It turned into a desolate rock, without a single patch of life to be found. The water still ran, the hills still stood, but not a single organism would be found in the liquid, not a single blade of grass found at the mound. Forevermore, the earth was dead...
 
 The world, the empty and dead world, soon degraded into Chaos. Nothing less was expected of the land, whose rivers were drying up and hills were eroding away as the wind battered and howled. After only a week or so after the death of the world, the darkness within the very soul of the planet was releashed, the world was crushed by an unseen hand of shadow, and it was never to be seen again. It turned into dust, just as the blossoms did. Life unto death. Its particles floated in the air, just as the dust of the blooms. They commingled together, blossom and earth, and some stayed together. These particles floated for an unknown amount of time. They did not have consciousness, of course, but it was still an awfully long time, even for a nonsentinent piece of dust. And so they wandered, for days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, millenias, forever.
Forever, forever, never to rest in the awe-filling vacuum known as space. Some of the particles got caught in black holes, galaxies, stars, and other celestial bodies. Only some, however, for the rest were neverendingly floating. Just floating. Doing absolutely nothing else.
And as other stars and worlds got crushed and destroyed, as well as reborn and filled with life, the specks of dust floated onwards and onwards forevermore. With their unseeing and nonexistent eyes and unfilled and imaginary souls, they witnessed the birth and death of stars and galaxies and civilizations of the other planets, similar to the ones that they were a part of. But of course, they did not know, they did not learn, for they were merely pieces of a world that wasn't anymore. Forevermore, the particles floated on...
Beings discovered the particles just floating around. Some destroyed the helpless things, some stole them, some collected them, some left them be. One certain Being, Khaos, much like the Chaos that destroyed the beautiful and grassy planet in the first place, collected the particles in a furious fashion, wanting more and more to create her own world, like her brother and sister, Gaiea and Ouranaous, were doing. The brother and sister's world was profitable and flourished with green things the twins called "plants". Some little humans inhabited the earth as well, and Gaiea and Ouranaous took gentle care of them. Khaos was jealous of their world, no doubt, and wanted to create the perfect world, where there were fabulous fauna and flora of all other worlds, gathered in her land to create the Utopia so desperately wanted across the thousands, millions of galaxies. She wanted it to grow into a great land of profit and grandeur. A land that would be both feared and respected in all other creature's hearts. And so Khaos tried.
Not all of the particles of that late planet were captured, however, but only some. Enough so the old being Khaos could create a prototype, but that was all. It was filled with glorious creatures, but Khaos soon became bored with the nonsensical creatures and plants and their foolish actions and colors, and abandoned the planet. Surprisingly, it survived and thrived and became the center for all inter-galactical trade. What a glorious planet it became, filled with animals and plants and even some small humans that roamed the earth. Many were jealous of the planet, but none dared to attack, for it's artillery and military were great and powerful. Many planets in their entirety were taken by these citizens, and a great empire it was. The name of that planet, however, was forbidden to the tongue and never to be spoken. It was considered too grand and prideful to speak of it, and it was simply known as "Khaos", after the elder Being who first watched over it and created it from those tiny particles.
What a great and powerful and rich planet it became, decadent with luxuries of all kinds.
What a boring planet it was. All the citizens were happy and there was no civil unrest.
This is not the tale of the prototype, not at all.
This is not the tale of the great empire that lasted for millenia and will last supposedly forevermore.
This is the tale of those few particles of that world, who gathered with other particles to create another world, where life developed at a painfully slow pace. Not a single important Being watched this planet, for it grew by itself. Neither Khaos, nor Gaiea, nor Ouranaous looked over it, nor did the hundreds upon thousands of other Beings. It was a free planet, a planet filled with vices and virtues and totally, completely, happily free. 
Its tale, however, doesn't exactly start here. It doesn't start at the same time of Khaos' jealousy and the formation of the planet. It goes a few hundred, thousand, million years back, just as the world was first forming and developing and becoming itself. It goes back to what the inhabitants called the Age of Birth.

The gentle floating of the particles of the earth and flowers floated eternally. Some, just some, regrouped with each other in such a beautiful and breathtaking way, they were bonded and to never be broken apart. And those small, minuscule bands of those few numbers of the original particles found each other in chances that were too small to count. The clumps bonded yet again, and they were the size of a dust ball. And as that small dust ball floated on, it started developing a small gravity almost unnoticeable, but still there. More particles were grasped, being sucked into its weak and minuscule gravitational pull, and it grew.
Oh, how the marvelous little ball grew.
And for hundreds of years, the little ball grew and grew and grew and grew! The size of a dust ball, to a golf ball, to a teacup, to a marvelous little world. It had mountains and hills and valleys and rivers with the purest of water, and it was gorgeous to look at. There was only one problem with this beautiful world created from the collection of particles that banded together, despite the fact that they did not have consciousness.
This world had no life. None. Not even a minuscule protozoa. Nothing at all. It was empty.
The world grew in size, anyways. Not that it had a choice in the matter. To the size of a soccer ball, to a basket ball, to a throw pillow. 
At one point in time, the small ball of dirt got a taste of the lovely substance known as water. In some odd and trivial way that can't really be understood, a cloud formed in the atmosphere of the land, taking in some of the water that flowed on it.  Just a drop blessed the poor earth, and that's all it took. Many bacteria and forms of life started developing, for that water was not pure. And oh, what a blessing it was. The small ball of dirt and bacteria collected more and more vagabond particles and what a joyous time it was! 
After an unknown period of time passed, maybe a day, maybe millions of years, the planet was now a very respectable size, about the size of Khaos' prototype, and started growing plants. Perhaps there was a small, minuscule, tiny, almost invisible burst of consciousness in the planet, for the first plant grown was a flower, small and faint, and uncannily the exact same to the first blossom that was destroyed by the harsh day of that olden planet, who was crushed by Chaos and had its particles spread throughout the fabric of space. It was an exact copy, pure and white and glistening in the low sunlight of the star the respectably-sized planet rotated around. From that, grasses and more flowers of all sorts developed, and then the creatures of all shapes and sizes and colors.
Oh, how the marvelous planet burst into life.
There were creatures of all sorts, things with fins and tails and such beautiful creatures they were! Finally, there was a good amount of brains in those creatures, and they were able to make the thoughts that the particles were not. 
Time passed, and the world was an abundant place, filled with marvelous creatures of the land and sea and sky. Plants grew of all shapes and sizes as well, and of many tastes and blooms and colors and what a perfect world that planet was! 
Yet still, not a single Being decided to watch it grow, except for one.
She was a minor Being, not at all important. She was merely the Being of Life. Now, that may sound like a terribly important role, but it was not. There were already Beings of Plants and Animals and Humans and Jabberwockeys and Palm Trees and Salmonella, there was a Being for every life form there was. She was frightfully unnecessary.
Then again, so was that planet.
And so, the young Being of Life loved that planet like a mother loves her child, and she watched it and guarded it and smiled at it so. She gave it sunlight and weather and helped the plants and animals grow to be fine Beasts. She walked on the planet and danced on it and entertained the animals just as they entertained her.
 
One day, she walked along the earth, taking in the fine scents of the gorgeous flowers that bloomed around her. Her feet squished the soft and moist dirt below; what a pleasant feeling that was. And so she spun and danced and brought merriment to the Beasts that she loved so! Her hair sparkled and shimmered and her feet twirled and twirled and twirled. The animals of the planet jumped in circles around her, and that was a joyous time.
After a while, the Being of Life wore herself out, and all the animals returned to their lives. She felt awfully lonely. Of course, she loved all the Beasts with all her heart, but they could not talk. She wasn't able to have a conversation with anyone for tens or hundreds or thousands of years. Time wasn't exactly a concept she was skilled at, but it didn't matter to her. All she knew is that it was a good while since she had a fuffiling talk, and she wanted was a friend or two to have a nice chat with.
Wanting companionship, she took clay from the many riverbeds, grasses and flowers from the many meadows, rocks from the many canyons and gorges, and sat down on a ray of sunlight. Following the laws of physics, this was not possible, but then again, she was a Being. She could do whatever she pleased. And so, she took the bountiful supplies and created more Beasts. Many a figure were crushed, for they either looked exactly the same as a Beast on the earth, or were hideously malformed. With a huff, she decided that it'd probably be best if she based the new lifeforms on herself and the other Beings. So, that is what she did. Their feet had five toes, their legs were long and lanky. Their torsos were also long, because the Being of Life felt that if her new friends were tall, she would not lose them. Their arms were down to just above their hips, and their shoulders were broad. Their necks were somewhat thin, for she thought that thicker necks were unattractive. Their faces, she took the utmost care of. The Being carefully crafted teeth and lips, as well as a tongue. A nose was given, so they could breathe, as well as eyes, so that they could see her lovely World and its Beasts. The grass was used as hair for her new friends, and flowers as lovely decorations. The stones were their bones and insides. 
After many a time has passed, the Being of Life decided that the forms of her new friends were perfect and beautiful, and allowed them to dry and harden in the sunlight. This took no time at all, and the clay figures stood there, all tall and lanky. For a moment, she was upset, and sighed. The Being expected them to dance and sing and be interesting. The air from her sigh entered their nostrils and their lungs, started their hearts and their minds, and they were alive. So happy the trio were! They danced and sang and explored their beautiful world and oh! They were the best of friends! Flowers decorated their hair and smiles decorated their faces. Wanting more friends and more fun, the Being of Life created more of the lovely humans, in different shapes and sizes and forms and ideas and with different colored clays so there was even more color in the world. The world soon became populated with forty-two of the beings, twenty-one were male, twenty-one were female, and all were joyous. All of her human friends started building houses and learning newer knowledge and started falling in love, all under the protective and loving eye of the Being of Life.
This was the Age of Birth.

The Being of Life and her numerous friends were prosperous and pleased. They were constantly learning ways of architecture, medicine, farming, and the arts. The group of forty-two humans started falling in love, right in front of the Being's eyes. She was overjoyed with these revelations, like any motherly figure would be. 
And soon, so soon, it seemed to the young Being, they started raising families and also started forgetting about her. Her, the one who gave them life and everything they had! The one who raised them and loved them no matter their flaws! Of course, she grew horridly upset, and decided to retreat to the heavens above to watch them. Over time, the people of the earth nearly forgot about their times with the Being, and instead started calling her "The Goddess of Above", unable to recall  her true name. This, yet again, angered the "goddess", and she cursed the humans that she once cared for. 
Now, for half of the year, the land would be thrown into a icy cold that these humans have never experienced. They would have to work for their food and goods. The earth would not be as fertile, and no more could the humans sit around and do nothing with their time. Feeling that wasn't enough, The Goddess of Above did something she would soon regret: she released the Horrors.
The Horrors were not monsters or evil creatures, no no. They were Beings of a lesser form, almost like "gods" and "goddesses". Devils, more like. They were Beings of pure Evil and hatred, things that would influence the very soul of a human and drive them to insanity or a wild rage that would harm themselves and others. They were very, horridly dangerous, taking on shadowy forms that were near-undetectable. 
They leapt out of the very soul of the Being, and into the world below. Strife, Agony, Hatred, Sickness, Death, Fear, Wrath, Greed, Lust, and Hubris howled and shrieked their terrifying songs. They danced around the human, chanting demonic words and scaring them to tears. After having their fun, the Horrors disappeared into the ground, and sunk into the fiery and otherworldly center of the small planet, waiting to strike. Oh, the Being wept her silent tears, for releasing these hellish things would soon come back to destroy her planet. As if to try to repent, she released one last thing out of her immortal soul; Hope. It was a pure and fluttering thing, beautiful and faintly glowing. The Being of Life smiled. She knew that without Hope, then the humans would be endlessly tormented, and everything that she ever worked on would go to waste as the civilization fell. With Hope, however, they would be able to fight the demons unleashed and live on to see another day.
 
Two generations passed, and the world had about ninety-seven humans roaming around on it. They worshipped the Being of Life not as a friend, but as a goddess, which heavily irritated her, but at the same time, she felt helpless to it. If she appeared to the humans, then they would most likely shield their eyes and cover their ears, for the presence of a goddess was too much for them to handle.  And so she accepted the position as "The Goddess of Above", and lazily watched over her world. The Horrors have taken over a couple different families a few times, but for only short periods, and not enough so anything or anyone was hurt. Out of absolute boredom, she decided to create a group of gods, just so they would have something else to worship needlessly. And so, she crafted a god of the skies and storms, a god of the ocean, a goddess of the underworld and death, a god of the earth, a goddess of the sun and moon, and a goddess of emotions. Katagidon, Nerou, Kthonia, Adamos, Eclissiare, and Synasithae were the new gods' and goddesses' names, and proud and boastful they were. They also had a kind heart to them, but rarely did they show it. If a ruler had kind thoughts to their subjects, they believed, then the subject would eventually forget about them. They only mingled with humans that they deemed worthy, unlike the poor Being who was kind to all and tried to mingle with everyone, and she was now helpless to their new rule.
Life with the new gods ran smoothly, the humans definitely believed in them, but didn't sacrifice anything to them. While this angered the gods, they accepted it. The Being calmed them down, explaining that sacrifice was useless and unecessary. It still caused a small flare of outrage whenever the humans butchered an animal and kept all the rich meats to themselves, however. Sometimes, in their anger, they caused storms and disasters. While these scared the humans, they accepted them as a way of life and continued on. Instead, the humans spent more time in the scientific fields, growing more and more complex. Many, many more generations passed, and the planet grew into a place with respectable civilizations and cultures. At this point, Gaiea and Ouranaous's planet was drained dry of resources and died, while Khaos' still  remained a key point in trade and knowledge. Every one of the gods, even the Being of Life, the "Goddess of Above" was forgotten, and they decided to use this to their advantage.
They multiplied, some of the gods pairing up and having children, and some gods being created by the Being's hand. Along with the original six were the goddess of festivities, the god of sleep and dreams, the god of war, the goddess of chaos, the god of wisdom and knowledge, the goddess of seasons, the goddess of love, and the god of the arts. They were Dianis, Morphos, Brutus, Dyscordia, Gnoseis, Tempora, Amoria, and Techniki. As if to spite the humans that abandoned them, all fourteen of them enticed humans they found appealing, and gave them demigod children. These "half-bloods" were outcasts, as well as the parent. Families tainted by god's blood were forced away, and some lineages shattered because of the one slip of infatuation. The shunned created their own homes away from their families. Their new cities were never as grand as the one's of "pure-blood", but they worked nonetheless. After yet another few generations, these demigod lines were forgotten, the families no longer disgraced, the gods decided to no longer meddle with human affairs, and all was well and happy.
Science marched on and civilizations grew to empires, which grew to countries. This planet was doing damn fine, and it was proud of it. No threats of invasion, no horrible economic collapses, everything was going smoothly. The gods were watching over the world while the humans were toying around with it and exploring it. A certain lineage by the name of Finnik, not once tainted by the gods, was doing fine, in a small town known as New Azure. 
 

The line of the Finniks was old and true, supposedly descendants of the first two humans that graced the earth. Of course, just about everyone claimed that, and not a single soul knew who exactly was the true descendants of the Two. 
However, it was the Finniks of which were the true descendants. Not like they knew, or anyone else knew, but still a good fact to know.
Now, these people lived in the Western Hemisphere of the world, in the Northern Half. There were four quarters of the world, the Western-North, the Western-South, the Eastern-North, and the Eastern-South. The Western-North was primarily agriculture, and it had a few large cities and a tad more smaller ones, but it had nowhere near the amount as the Western-South. It was filled with plains and forests, and bountiful flora and fauna. The Western-South was a cosmopolitan place that was near-Utopia. The cities were lavishly built and the citizens were greatly adorned with jewels and treasures from their planet and others. Just about everyone there worked as businessman of some sort, and life was materialistic and good. It was mostly composed of forests originally, but has now become a concrete and steel jungle. In the Eastern-North, there were mines and trading centers of all sorts, which also made this place fabulously rich and bountiful. As most would expect, it was covered with mountain and rivers, and bordered the most of the ocean. Neither the Western-South or the Eastern-North grew enough crops to feed its thousands of people, which helped the economical system of the Western-North quite a bit. The Eastern-South, oh, the Eastern-South was a place mostly undiscovered and untouched. It was said that the highest mountain of the world was here, and was also the birth of humanity and where the Being of Life herself lived. Of course, those were fae-tales of long ago; not a single person truly believed in them-they were merely told for entertainment.
 
So, continuing on with our tale of the Finniks; they were a middle-class family, through and through. They were all farmers with the same amount of luck as any other farmer. Sometimes crops didn't grow and they suffered, other times they had a bumper crop. They were just a perfect example of normality. They were known for their brown hair and deep green eyes, and that was all. Brown hair was common in the region; and green eyes, while not the more-common amber, were just as expected. They were not particularly unnatural, just perfectly, perfectly normal. Not once was their lineage tainted by the gods, which wasn't entirely normal, but wasn't uncommon either. 
There was a certain lady of the lineage, known as Anabell. She was blessed with gorgeous chocolate curls that shimmered ever so slightly in the light, as well as foresty-green eyes that pierced the soul of others. She was a very assertive woman, blunt and brave, but for some reason, she was once married to a cowardly scoundrel of a man who impregnated her then left. Her parents were ashamed of her, and left poor Anabell to wither away. However, she took back the Finnik name and rebuilt her life while heavy with child. After the birth of her baby girl, who she named Ellyne, she became a powerful person, the mayor of her own town, and married once more. Her name was no longer disgraced and Anabell's family welcomed her back with open arms.
She had a sister, Anabell did. Her name was Natalia, and she wasn't a foolish girl, unlike her sister. She was knowledgeable and knew what to do, when to do it and how to do it, and she was a lovely girl as well. Not nearly as lovely as her sister, but quite pretty nonetheless. Natalia was smarter and much more careful when it came to love, or at least, there was a time that she could boast this. For one day, the great god Katagidon came down in the form of a beggar. Natalia passed by the man, and feeling a great amount of sympathy for him, allowed him to come in her home and eat and rest and get washed up. The beggar thanked her, and so he did as he was offered. 
He was a charming fellow, after he was cleaned. Blonde hair like the summer's sun and grey eyes that seemed to contain the very storms of the skies themselves. She admired his beauty and Natalia, oh dear Natalia, she fell in love. The two chatted and conversed over such topics like philosophy and the order of the universe, and other rich and detailed conversations. And Katagidon, the great god of the skies and storms, fell in love as well. One thing led to another, and the next thing Natalia knew was that she had been charmed by a man, no, a god, who had ran off into the night. Another month told her that he fathered her child as well. Rich was she in sorrow and grief, for the beloved Finnik line was never before tainted by such nights of lust, and now, the next heir was a demigod. The very taint that the land despised greatly! The poor child, if word ever got out, would definitely be shamed, which would eventually lead to the rest of the family being shamed. Feeling as if she should at least tell a half-truth, Natalia told her parents that she was pregnant, and not wanting to repeat the same mistake that they did with Anabell, they took her in and her child. They were excited for their grandchild, bastard or not.
Nine months passed and the boy who was named Caeden came into the world, bright and bubbly, and with a small static charge in his faint and downy blonde hair. Natalia cursed under her breath, but thankfully, her parents did not notice either incidents. He was raised as a farmer's boy, just like every other Finnik. However, Caeden was a strong boy, capable of feats that most other boys couldn't do. He was also very quick-witted, raising suspicion with his grandparents. Caeden was also blessed with eyes of silvery-grey, like the down of a young bird, terribly unlike the darker green hues that the other Finniks were born with. One night, when Caeden was around the good age of fifteen, they raised the topic of his birth with Natalia, worried about impurities in the bloodline. 
"Natalia, please, we'd like to speak with you," the grandmother, who was named Alina, asked quietly, but sharply as she sat down at the table.
With slight worry, Natalia headed into the dining room. "Yes, Mother?"
"We'd like to have a word with you about your bastard of a son, dearest." At those words, Natalia panicked slightly, but her face remained the same as it was before. 
"Yes, I know, it's a sad fate, isn't it? The poor boy doesn't know his father at all!"
"Yes, it is," the grandfather, Nikolas, muttered, eyes darkening with a minuscule amount of fury. "It'd be horrible if there was a...taint, in the bloodline, wouldn't it?"
"Of course, Father."
"Well, I've noticed lately that Caeden, well, he's a strong boy; good and hearty and smart. Excellent qualities. And as you know, we Finniks are, how you say, average. No other child in the lineage has that sort of physical strength. It's just not in our blood. And if the father was a coward enough to leave you, then there is no possible way that he had those mental strengths. There's also the question of where he got those blank grey eyes of his, as well." At this point, he was standing, towering over poor Natalia. She was quivering with fear, and Alina looked on is mild horror. His hands slammed onto the oak table, making it shudder ever so slightly. "Now, who is--" And the old man was cut off as a black shadow broke through the window and wrapped around his throat tightly, causing him to start to choke.
Both Natalia and Alina shrieked, and Caeden instantly became awake and ran to the room. They all stood in horror as the darkness strangled him. After the man was dead, the shadowy hand threw him against the ceiling, and caught him. Blood seeped out slowly from a wound. An arm bone poked out of the skin and was dyed red by the crimson liquid. Not a single sound was heard, not a single movement was made. And slowly, ever so slowly, did Nikolas' body start dissolving, turning into the very shadow that killed him. That shadow reformed itself to the grandfather's body, and tackled his now-widowed wife. Natalia grabbed Caeden fiercely and covered his eyes while the dark being ripped at Alina's old and wrinkly flesh and caused more blood to splatter on the walls. The two started crying, Natalia very hard, for both the death of her beloved parents and the fact that some of her mother's blood had splashed onto her face and started to drip down slowly, like a bright sanguine tear. She was terribly horrified, and Caeden, not used to his mother's crying-or honestly, this entire ordeal- was terrified as well. He was merely a farmer boy! He shouldn't have to deal with this! After the "feast" for the shadow demon was done, Alina was turned into shadow as well, and took on her previous form. Both of the demons slowly turned to the mother and son, fangs bared. Natalia, quick as a dart, started running -sprinting, to the exit. 
They almost made it, so close did the small family of two have freedom. But the shadows leaped and grabbed and clawed at Natalia's leg, forced her to crash down on the soft and damp earth, and ripped at her flesh as Caeden watched in horror, unable to scream or cry for help. His eyes were a dark and melodramatic shade of grey, almost as if a small storm was brewing in them. His mother's shrieks echoed throughout the empty land as blood was smeared into the ground, smeared all over the shadows' faces, and smeared all over her now-near-translucent and porcelain skin. Only after a few moments did the shadows stop feasting, not even bothering to look at the orphaned child that watched on with fear. She was left there to rot away, unlike the others. Her eyes were open, but could not see. They still seemed to point daggers at Caeden like she was ashamed of her son and his selfishness.
At this point, he was so overwhelmed with sadness, he could not function properly. Three of his closest family members dead. Dead! And all within an hour! And he could not, no, did not do a thing about it!
Caeden, the son of Natalia Finnik and Katagidon, Ruling God over the Skies and Storms, fell down to his knees and wept for his fallen mother, tears spilling down his face, collecting at his chin, and dropping off onto the dark and soggy earth.
And oh, how that poor lad wept.

Caeden slept on the ground that night. It was harsh, hard, windy, and moist with the mixture of the natural dampness of the ground and the sickly sweet crimson regret that flooded the grass. There were no creatures about, thank the Gods. The area was coated with a harsh sort of silence; the one that drills into your very soul and drains you of emotions. Moonlight made the grass sparkle ever so slightly, and illuminated the boy's hair. He woke several times during the night, and each time, he saw that lovely moon watch down on him, as if it was guarding him. It helped the situation slightly, Caeden always found the moon very calming and sweet. If it was not as full or as bright, he probably would have gone insane with grief.
The hazy morning sun, a trademark for the farmlands where he lived, came up, and awoke the boy for the first time. Usually, his mother got him up a few moments before sunrise, and the curtains in his room were constantly closed, allowing the boy to never have the mild agony of waking up by a ray of harsh and bright sunlight. Grey eyes dulled and blonde hair horridly unkempt, he got his bearings and decided to head back to his home-
No, not his home, not anymore. The atrocities that were committed in that "home" infected it with a plague of hatred. No, that place was merely a shelter, a hideout, a place of rest. Nevermore would Caeden have a home, so he thought. As the early rays of sunlight hit his pale neck, he thought of supplies he could find. There was food, water, bags, the necessities for sure. What about sleeping items, or personal items? Could he give those up? Caeden wasn't sure, and pushed the thoughts out of his mind. He'd worry about them when he arrived.
After a good fifteen minutes of walking-he accidentally went in the opposite direction for about seven minutes-Caeden arrived at the doorstep of the shelter, the acrid stench of bodily fluids filling his nostrils and making his very insides turn into mush. With cautious hands, he pushed open the doorway to the Finnik home. Another wave of vile scents and feelings hit him, and the boy nearly dashed out of the house, never to return again. However, surviving another night was slightly more important, and he ventured deeper.
Everything was about the same, except for the blood spatters decorating the wallpapered sides. Holding his breath, he sprinted across the dining room to get to his bedroom. Tears started filling his eyes again, both the lack of oxygen and the painful memories from last night rearing their ugly heads causing his eyes to water. He arrived at his room, which was in the same condition as yesterday. Bed was made, a few pieces of clothing were strewn about, his desk was almost covered with papers, it was almost like nothing ever happened. Caeden grabbed his schoolbag, which was near empty, and dumped it out on his bed. A few papers and sticks of charcoal fell out, smearing blackness on the sheets. He stuck in a spare change of clothing, some of the food he always kept underneath his bed, some spare money, and a journal his uncle wrote in. It described the edible plants and animals around New Azure and somewhat beyond that. It was mainly for the mideastern region, where the Finniks lived. It also covered some of the southern region, mostly because the flora was much more similar there than the western or the northern section of the Western-North. He gently put it away, for some of the pages were rotting and faded from days of being carried in the moist air. Caeden honestly had no idea what to pack and what not to. Sure, he read and listened to tales of young boys his age fighting monsters and destroying evil, but they never described what they packed for the journey. With a small sigh, he closed the satchel and wandered back to the dining room to reach the kitchen.
His eyes were down, staring at the floor. There was still blood on the ground, but not nearly as much. He pushed open the door to the kitchen, and the warm scent of bread and some spices filled the air. A smile came onto his face; rich memories of baking with his grandparents came back, making an absolute mess, mixing everything together, and getting those scrumptious licks of batter off the spoon. He sighed, reopened the bag, and swung open the cabinet doors.
His food supply consisted of some salted meats, assorted nuts, and that was all that he could really think to bring. Fruits would spoil. So would vegetables. Fresh meat would rot within days, and Caeden would need a fire to cook it in the first place.
Besides, he mused, There's plenty of animals and plants outside my door.
There was also a canteen and the largest knife in the kitchen- a good eight inch blade- in the bag, and he felt that was enough.
With one last goodbye to the place he was raised in for fifteen years, he left for the nearest town to search for his aunt. She should take him in, they were kin after all. It wasn't that far, maybe a day or two by foot. He spent the time looking at the scenery, wondering about the future, and looking over the journal and observing the wildlife, wanting to memorize edible plants and animals just in case. Caeden was relaxed and almost happy. Once he reached the next town over, Matalon, he'd be sitting pretty. Nothing bad would ever happen again and he'd help around the farm and be useful and oh! Life would be good.
And so, he arrived at the nicely-sized town of Matalon, and by a lucky happenstance, found his aunt at the farmer's market. She had Ellyne right next to her, her usually bright emerald eyes now dulled and thirsty for something more in this drab life of hers. Ellyne's life was decent, her mother was the mayor and she lived a posher life than others. Something ached inside of her, however, a need, a lust for adventure and getting out of this small town she was born and raised in. Every crook and cranny of the place wasn't a secret to her, but everything outside the limits were. Anabell was picking up a cucumber and inspecting it when Caeden called out, brightly and sharply, "Aunt Anabell!"
The woman froze, and turned around slowly, her usually rosy cheeks pale with fear. Ellyne looked on with interest at the boy. Anabell cowered at the sight of him, causing him to worry. "Aunt Anabell? What's the matter? It's me, Caeden, your nephew."
"Child of Demons and Drudgery! Offspring of the Horrors themselves!" Anabell screeched, hands flung in the air as she screamed to the heavens. The merchants and other consumers were looking on at the scenario that was unfolding, a kind of sick interest with family issues and nosiness rearing its head. "Get away, get away, hellspawn!"
Now, these outburst from Caeden's aunt, who was usually extremely level-headed and welcomed him with open arms when he visited, frightened the fifteen-year-old. His grey eyes were filled with a sort of fear. She hasn't gone off the deep end, has she? And his cousin, Ellyne, she didn't look fazed at all. "Aunt Anabell, I don't see what I've done. What's the matter?"
"Killed them all, killed them all! You, hellspawn, have killed my mother, my father, and my sister just the other night! Or have you committed so many other crimes you merely forgot?"
"Aunt, that wasn't me, I swear!"
"Liar, deciever! Don't listen to his words!"
At this point, a tall and brutish man came up to the trio, his brown eyes dark. "Now, Miss Anabell, Miss Ellyne? Who is this boy? Is he disturbing you?"
Anabell looked at the man, a sort of gratefulness in her eyes. "Oh, yes, Ruben! This boy slaughtered my family the other night, and now dares to come murder the rest of us!"
"That's not true! I didn't kill them!" Caeden shouted desperately, his hands becoming clenched into fists. Ruben, however, glared at the boy and swiftly hushed him up. At this point, Caeden realized that he was an outsider in this town, and he was being accused by the mayor. Even if he was somehow proven to be innocent at this point, the accusations would still stay and he'd forever be an outcast.
Ellyne was still looking on in fascination. She vaguely remembered this boy from some visits to her grandparents. He was a bastard, like her, and he was a Finnik, like her. He didn't look like one, though. Rather, he had cornsilk-blonde hair and deep grey eyes, while most other Finniks had bark-brown hair and grassy-colored eyes. Usually those traits overpowered others, raising a small suspicion in her mind. She did feel sorry for the boy though. It was hard for her to believe that he slayed his entire family. She kept quiet, wanting to see how this would unfold.
Anabell was always distrustful of others. Each person brought the possibility of disruption and an uprising, leading to her downfall and possible execution. When gossip of her kin being killed reached town, she was thrown into a tranquil sort of panic, not really worrying about it too much, but always keeping a watchful eye. And now, with the killer right in front of her face, she unleashed the bottled up fear. If he was to kill her, then her beautiful town would be thrown into chaos and she'd soon be forgotten. Besides, the boy was a bastard, and stuck out like a sore thumb in family photos. That was definitely asking for trouble in her mind.
Ruben, the brutish man, was harshly distrustful of just about everyone in this town, even the ones he was raised with since he was an infant. Even Miss Anabell, his employer. Especially Miss Anabell. She ruled with an iron fist and it was "her way or the highway" as she liked to put it. And now this "hellspawn" was disrupting everything and making life just a tad more difficult for the bodyguard. He didn't look familiar at all, and definitely wouldn't trust a word out of his mouth. Was he a killer, though? He certainly didn't look like one. However, Miss Anabell's word was the law, and so he walked towards the boy, threw him over his shoulder, and took him to the town jail.
And Caeden, poor Caeden, was horribly confused during this ordeal. Here was his aunt, his kind aunt with her own rules and way of living, screeching and throwing a near-tantrum on how he was "Offspring of the Horrors themselves". He was harshly embarassed, his pale skin glowing a bright red. It glowed even brighter when he was hoisted over the other man's shoulder, like a small child. The other townsmen were watching in horror mixed with curiosity. They have never seen such an event; their town was usually very quiet. A walk through the town eventually led the duo to a large main hall, and Ruben turned a sudden right. Over in the corner was a smaller building attached to the side, with a sign over it saying "Police Center". Caeden sighed, and fell limp. Even if he could put up a fight, there was no use. They entered through the doorway, and the man set him down onto the hard metal slab hanging from the wall, covered with only a small pillow and a very thin blanket.
"Sir," Caeden started, his voice just a tad higher than a mumble. "Sir, I don't understand what I did. I'm not a murderer."
Ruben sighed, set down the pencil he just picked up a moment ago to fill out a form, and turned to him. "Kid, I don't know you. I don't care to know you. If Miss Anabell says you're a murderer, then I must take the appropriate actions for that. However, you don't seem like a cold-blooded killer; maybe the old hag will come to her senses."
Caeden nodded, then sighed. His mother would be ashamed. Not that it mattered. His only chance of getting back to his kin were crushed; by the looks of it, Anabell wasn't going to come back to her senses anytime soon. Ruben shut the iron bar door, and sat down at the desk to fill out papers.
Hours passed, with Caeden staring at the ceiling and pretending the dents were stars and he was discovering new constellations. There was a sharp slam coming from the desk area, and he noticed that the guard was asleep. The keys hung off a small hook on the wall, just out of his reach. He still tried, anyways, knowing that many stories with the main hero getting thrown in jail resulted in them getting the key and escaping. Unlike the stories, though, he failed miserably and fell to his knees. The boy was probably going to rot in this cell. And so, he rested his hands on the bars in defeat, eyes gloomier than ever.
For some odd reason, the bars started sparking with electricity, and turned red hot. Caeden quickly retracted his hand away, completely freaked out. The sparking stopped, and eventually, the metal returned to its original temperature. A flash of curiosity overtook him, and he tried pressing his hand against the metal again. Almost instantly did it begin sparking and glowing the fiery red as it did before. He concentrated more, and the metal started melting. Soon enough, there was a gaping hole in the bars, enough for him to stick out his entire arm. Just moments later, he retrieved the key and began to open the door. The lock clicked, and with a tiny push, swung open. The hole was a funny sight to see, a disrupt in the pattern. It was a good feeling, causing that disruption.
The place was boring, to say the least. Just the desk and a cell, with a little folded-up cot just in case the guard had to stay the night. The walls were a dark green and the floor was stone. Ugly and boring. Ruben was fast asleep, the pencil still in his grip and the papers half-filled. Caeden chuckled a small laugh, only a few hours ago did this brute seem to want to rip him to shreds, and now he was sleeping like a baby. He quickly silenced himself, retrieved his bag, and went out the door.
The night air was invigorating and fresh, giving Caeden a nice surge of energy. Small amounts of adrenaline was pumping through his body; he was free! He could head on his merry way-
Or at least, he could if he had the supplies.
A small huff, and the boy set on his way to the market, maybe there was still a vendor or two. The streets were quiet, just the sound of the soft breeze whistling through the alleyways. Not a single shop was open, to Caeden's distress. He didn't have nearly enough food to last him to the next town. Just a small loaf of bread and half a canteen of water. It would take five times as much to last him to Tin.
And with a low sigh of defeat, he went into the alleyways to rest. Life was supposed to be easy for a farmer's boy; not some hellish nightmare where nothing went right.

As Caeden rested his head on the cold, stony ground, Ellyne was walking through the darkened paths, the silvery-grey cloak around her made her seem as if she was one of the Fae. Her quiet footsteps still echoed through the empty streets, but she was not worried about being caught at such a late hour. Anabell didn't give a care about where her daughter was half the time, she assumed that her town was safe enough for her precious daughter. And so, the mayor's child wandered through the town as she pleased, watching the moon rise above her head and every once in a while, she watched it go back down as well. There were a few drunkards stumbling about, looking as sick as dogs. Ellyne laughed at the pitiful men, she was the type that looked down on almost everyone. She was what others would call a brat; prideful and arrogant, with a quick tongue and a sharp wit. She also inherited the beauty of her mother, long chocolate curls that fell just below her chest and bright forest-green eyes that seemed to be capable of looking into a person's very soul. A few freckles also dotted her slightly-tanned cheeks. She was clumsy though, frightfully clumsy. As if to prove this point, her small boot-covered foot stepped on a bottle left behind by the drunk men, and it shattered with a small crash. She flew, looking about as graceful as a dying goose. Luckily, the "princess" wasn't hurt, and nothing seemed to happen.
In the alleyway across from her, however, Caeden awoke and jumped up, his knife in his hand and his other clenched in a fist. He edged his way out of the narrow street, grey eyes becoming stormy and dark. Ellyne noticed him, and nearly screamed in horror. The convict! The murderer! Right in front of her eyes! She clasped her petite hands over her mouth, eyes wide and scared. Caeden relaxed, and let out a low sigh. It was only Ellyne, Aunt Anabell's daughter, and absolutely no threat in a fight. Not wanting to seem threatening, he started scraping the loose mud out of his shoes with the tip of the blade. Ellyne, however, went screaming away, a howling banshee set loose. He sighed again; the moment she reached her mother's house, he was dead. Aunt Anabell would hang him right then and there, or worse, make him her slave. The highest insult to a Finnik, being treated as a lowly servant of a lower social class. It wouldn't be below Anabell, at this point in time.
Caeden walked away from the alleys, if Ellyne did tell, then it might be a tad more difficult for the townspeople to find the runaway and supposed murderer. The stars sparkled above, glimmering jewels in the hazy night sky. It was pretty, very pretty, and distracted the boy from the almost-nightmarish events that happened in the past few days.