Frighteningly Familiar Territory

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Graphic violence warning
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     It had to have been days at the least. He didn’t know how long he’d been walking, nor exactly where but that was a given. The only sense of time he had was the barely visible sunlight at times that would peek through the overcast. Never would it be completely sunny. Not in this frozen wasteland.

His feet began to throb and ache. At times like these he remembered…

No. He didn’t remember anything. He didn’t want to remember anything. He didn’t want to…

Haetia collapsed onto the snow knees first, then the rest of his body after. As he lay limp he started to wonder…was it even worth continuing on? What was he hoping for? What was he hoping to find?

Weakly his eyes rose towards the faintly emerging sun through the ever present clouds.

Was that…a building?

Buildings!?

Against his debilitated frame’s desire to rest, he forced himself at least back onto his knees.

“That’s…That’s Bevolia…isn’t it?”

Now onto his feet.

Almost limping from exhaustion, he took one small step at a time towards the array of stone. A large wall came into view, and even more buildings behind it. Around the outskirts he could faintly make out dots of people around–guards or travelers or what have you.

“I’m not imagining things…right? That’s Bevolia…That’s Bevolia!!”

Adrenaline rushed into his system, fueling his self that was almost ready to accept death as he sprinted forth.

Some last sense of reason stopped him at the gate, momentarily wondering if it was wise to show up considering how they left, but remembering his lack of food he threw whatever caution he had away and continued forth.

     The city was as boisterous as he remembered it. People of every race around every corner. Every business that you could think of. Every type of person you could think of. But most importantly, food! And water! Oh how he needed water especially!!

He searched himself for any possible signs of currency, remembering quite quickly that Linias used to be the one to carry all of that.

So…he had to get money. Or steal. Or get someone to buy it for him.

Right now, however, with all his days of aimlessly traveling and falling over, he didn’t look all that presentable to even try and seduce someone.

Haetia wandered around the town, keeping the hood to his robe as low as he could as he searched for anything that could lead him to any of his immediate goals. Now that he thought about it…a soft bed would be nice too. If he could somehow clean up, he could just kill all of those birds with one stone by just finding someone to sleep with at least for the one night. Afterwards…even he didn’t know. But immediate problems first.

Passerby among passerby rudely slammed shoulders with him as they rushed by, growing his dislike of the city by the second although he didn’t remember having the same issue the first time they came here.

The only free method he could think of to bathe would be one of the many fountains across the city, but with it being, well, a city, not even at night would he have the privacy to do so and nor did he want to stoop that low just for a bath.

Somehow through all of his wandering he found himself in front of The Fox’s Den–Mitsuyo’s brothel. Of all the people he’d met since he left Gwyneira, he hated her the most and he would much rather die than ask her for help. But…in retrospect he would die if he didn’t get some form of help from someone.

His stomach guided his feet to the back door, then he stood outside of it for several minutes before finally finding the will to at least lift his hand to knock. However, right before his knuckles touched the wood he paused.

“No…No.”

Haetia turned to leave and as soon as he did the door flew open.

Mitsuyo.

Her eyes squinted a scowl as she looked around.

“No Linias. So he used that portal I take it.” The kitsune sighed her disappointment away. “If you want something you have better luck asking a pebble on the street.”

Haetia returned her scowl. “As if I’d ask you for anything.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

Not wanting to converse with her any more than he had to, Haetia continued to leave having gained nothing more than a bitter taste in his mouth while Mitsuyo’s loathing slowly contorted into a smirk.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Not long after did he cut his wandering short and fit himself to relax by the entrance of an alleyway connecting to a side street. Berries it was again, for now. Again he wondered how these worries of food, water, and shelter were only coming to him now and never before, and as always it led back to that servant of his that he tried so desperately to forget existed.

Rubbing his calves, he tried to knead the mild pain away.

His consciousness flickered every now and then and even he wasn’t sure if he actually fell asleep at some point. All he knew was that however long he rested was enough for the winter weather to settle in again as the white clouds turned gray and eclipsed the sun once more. No matter how much he’d rest he never seemed to ever be able to recover his full strength and he could only imagine it was due to his lack of sufficient nutrients.

A miniscule part of him scorned himself for turning away from that kitsune, but then again she probably wouldn’t have helped him anyway. Stealing something seemed more viable by the second, though if he got caught in the process it could possibly be the end of him.

Haetia sighed and wobbled to his feet, dragging himself out of the alleyway. The streets were strangely emptier than before and as far as he recalled Bevolia was almost always bustling with people. Still, he kept to himself, deliberating upon whether it was worth the risk or not to make an attempt at thievery.

Before he even made it out of the side streets, a broad shouldered man slammed right into him, making him and his companions stop just to comment on it all. “Hey watch where the fuck you’re going kid.”

In a normal scenario where he wasn’t by himself he would’ve snapped back at them but right now he needed to avoid any attention at all costs. So, he tried to keep his hood low and continue on but the short-tempered man grabbed him by his forearm.

“Did you not hear me? Apologize at the very least you rude shit stain!”

Ignore it…ignore it…Haetia tried to shake his grasp off yet it wouldn’t budge in the slightest. The rest of his cronies simultaneously snickered and scowled, borderline joining in the harassment.

“YOU MUTE OR SOMETHING?!”

The man jerked his hood down and in that same moment Haetia’s heart dropped, praying upon hope that they weren’t a part of the Seronites or worse creeps desperate for a hole to plug.

Twisted intrigued plastered over all of their faces at the sight of his opulent white hair, pale skin, and multicolored eyes, as if they were trying to wrack their brains to pinpoint the familiarity of it all.

“Oi wait a second, isn’t he that guy that got a bounty on ‘em earlier today?” One of them finally recalled.

“Yeah he isn’t ain’t he? No mistaking it! Who else’d look this bizarre?” One of the others replied.

With every exchange they had be it words or glances Haetia’s dread only sank further and further. Yet no matter how much he struggled and writhed the burly man’s grip didn’t loosen an inch.

“Is that right? We oughta take him in then, maybe after roughing him up some to teach him some manners.”

Haetia’s rapid beating heart crawled into his throat and right when they started to close in on him the ground began to quake enough for their balance to waver. Thick dark roots burst through the stone slabs, flinging debris aside as they emerged within a blink and towered over them all.

The roots were painfully familiar to him–the same of which had emerged when the manticore had cornered him. They even had the same mangled claw-like shape as before, and just the same as before they ensnared the short-tempered man and his companions before any of them could lay another hand on him, freeing Haetia from his grasp. Yet he didn’t run afterwards. He shrank. Shrank to the ground and cowered with his knees held to his face as he knew what would happen next, and he was all too afraid to possibly fall victim to their barbarity.

Suspended in midair the man and his croons scratched and pulled against the constriction of the roots but they only continued to tighten their hold. What was once aggravated yells turned into petrified howls as charcoal toned wood cracked bone after bone, fully realizing the terror of their circumstance and the futility of their efforts to escape.

And no matter how tightly Haetia held palms over his ears the sounds of their blaring screams and eventual gruesome ends still pierced through. The deformed claws plowed straight through their bodies and picked off chunks as easily and apathetically as one would a tender slice of beef, tossing and dropping lump after lump as if they were trying to dig through to their souls and snuff out their lives from the source. Varying sizes of the pieces of their cadavers collided with the stone walls and broken street in deep slaps, the blood and likewise some of their portions flooding down onto the trembling prince, dying most of his ivory self into scarlet as he could do nothing but heave shuddered and short pants.

He hadn’t even realized when the macabre aggress had concluded as he tremored into himself several minutes after the fact in disbelief that it was truly gone, which was enough time for others to become privy to the massacre.

The shouts from the handful of residents nearby fell dull to his ears until one finally broke through, and it was all he needed for his senses to force him back onto his feet.

“GET HIM!!”

Whatever overwhelming dread he sustained was thrown aside as the now took precedence over the then. Haetia momentarily slipped on his way up and arms flailing he managed to somehow maintain his balance as he sprinted in full force in the opposite direction of the cries, not even looking back to verify whether he was truly being pursued or not but the increasingly rapid storms of steps and bellows were sign enough.

With little to no knowledge of the inner workings of Bevolia’s complicated infrastructure he had no choice but to flee mindlessly until he could find a way out of the city while his pursuers increased in size with every corner her turned, some blocking pathways he otherwise might’ve gone down had they not flooded them in advance. His mind didn’t focus on the substance of the words being hurled at him, only keening onto their aggression and hostility to know that he shouldn’t stop running until he knew for certain he was safe or until his body gave up trying.

He honed onto the first city gate he could find and rushed out, uncaring of the raging, ruthless blizzard that awaited him outside. And the relentless mob hounded after him ever still until finally the harsh frigid gusts shied them away from continuing their pursuit any further, to some measure believing that the gales would take him or that it wasn’t worth risking their own lives.

Yet even when they had stopped and retreated, Haetia ran on, and on and on and on until his legs would take him no longer and he collapsed to the thick sheet of snow. His muscles’ contractions couldn’t keep up with his lungs’ desperate desire for air and so it burned as it stretched thin through his system and mixed with cut swallows. Whatever remaining strength he had left he used to crawl to and lay his back against the trunk of a tree as it offered far more comfort than the suffocating snow beneath him.

Once his scurried breaths finally managed to begin to descend, he clenched his fist around his retainer’s locket, jerking it free and tossing it across. It thud against the opposing bark, falling softly into the snow.

Through his recovering respirations he grinded his teeth as he looked onto the necklace with nothing but resent and abhorrence.

“If you hadn’t…If you hadn’t–....”

Haetia bled a sharp and short exhale followed by a swift inhale.

He pulled his legs against his chest, hugging them close.

His breaths quivered, eyes burning and pooling until finally, he cried.