Chapter 1: Aftermath

It was a warm summer day. The Festival of Flowers concluded, and Tobias was inside Marcus’ home. The house was decently maintained and well-furbished with paintings of men in uniform – Marcus’ grandfathers, most likely.

And there that stood at the main hallway, blocking the path outside, was an aged man. His gaze was steel-like, and his hairs were graying with black edges. He wore the common person’s tunic, but there was a golden-medal of some sort proudly pinned to his tunic.

“Is that really what happened, boy?” The war veteran stared at the young boy, his gaze as hard as steel.

“Yes, sir. I promise you that.” On contrast, the boy named Tobias stood as still as he can, fearing that the slightest expression on his face would trigger the older man – Marcus’ father – into frenzy.

“...” He said nothing, only continuing to stare at the boy with a hardened gaze. Then he walked away, his wooden leg tapping against the stone floor in a click-clack manner. His hands reached up to reach the sword hung above his fireplace.

It was beautiful in its own, ancient way. The wooden sheath it was kept in was well-worn, but it still bore the carved symbols of a symmetrical eight petal flower. The handle was wrapped in worn-leather, and the pommel was a silver circular ring, with a blue crystal-like gem imbedded within. The handle was silver, and the guard was a simple straight line which prevented one’s hand from slipping on the blade.

The Father drew the sword, its blade rasping a faint hiss as it scraped by wood. The blade was tapered at the end, and it was colored silver, much like its pommel and handle. It was polished – but it wasn’t shining, and even Tobias could only try to guess how many times it’s been polished to such state.

“...” Tobias said and did nothing, only continuing to stare at old man. He felt some fear, but he accepted whatever would come to him. He knew that he had already died once – and Marcus dying was only his fault.

“This house suffered defeat, then.” The Father said, and Tobias turned to stare at him in confusion. “This lineage dies with me, the proud lineage which brought forth exceptional soldiers of war.” He raised his sword, and brought the sword to align against his abdomen.

“Wait!” Tobias shouted, to prevent the Father from completing the act of killing himself. “What... do you mean?” He asked, and in turn, the Father turned to look at him, drawing the blade away. His tunic had a minor cut – the part where the sword was pressed against his body.

“It simply means that I failed in my duties to train him hard enough.” The Father said, his expression resolute.

“Is it – a matter of pride?” Tobias asked. Was it really that simple? He only wanted to die for his short-coming that might have not been avoidable? He felt his teeth grit together, as he only stared at the older man with a pleading expression.

“No, you fool.” The older man said, then gave a sigh. By this time, he had set the blade down, no longer raised and pointed towards himself. “I am still a father, at the end of this day. Do you think I wouldn’t be disheartened by the fact that my son died?”

“I see...” Tobias muttered, then he bowed down. “I am sorry. I was... insensitive, and I did not think that you only cared for Marcus because he was your legacy...”

“I am aware,” The Father began, as he turned around to look at the different paintings of his ancestors. “That I come off as cold, distant, and manipulative. I am sure that Marcus is afraid of me at some point, and I will not deny that I have been exceptionally harsh on him...” A step forwards, the wooden leg thumping against the floor. “Which is why... I will end my life, wake up in the afterlife, and find Death there. And I will avenge my son, no matter what.”

“You don’t have to do that!” The boy said, as he felt his lips tremble from frustration. “It... It was my fault for not being strong enough to protect my friend... and your son...”

“You are but a boy.” The Father said, his eyes were understanding, and his voice was warm. “No one, not even myself, could fight against Death.”

“Then I will become strong enough.” Tobias announced. He wiped away at his eyes, and stared at the older man with eyes which seemed to be set alight with determination. “You say I am only a boy... but that only means that I can eventually grow strong enough, right?”

“I will not be responsible for sending another innocent boy to die.” The Father responded, and his eyes seemed to burn with defiance to match that of Tobias’. “If you think that this would be a simple matter, then you would be thoroughly incorrect.”

“Please.” He said, and he bowed down as far as he could. “I need to avenge Marcus... for my own sake, if nothing else.”

“We have nothing to talk about anymore.” The Father announced coldly, and he raised his right hand to point at the door. “Know that this is for your own good, Tobias.”

The boy only stared at the older man, with eyes which showed betrayal, confusion, and pain. But without any further words, he only left the house silently. The Father looked at the boy’s back as he left, and gave a sigh filled with a complicated concoction of emotions.

He had a feeling that the boy might do something stupid soon...

***

The Father walked towards the village’s square, his wooden leg tapping against the paved cobblestone road with a distinct click clack. In his hands were a woven basket, intended to be filled with that day’s provisions – no, meals, rather. He wasn’t back at the battle fields. He was safe, in the village.

But as he looked about, his eyes narrowed at the bigger-than-normal crowd which gathered itself at the village square. He was normally one who did not socialize with other people, and really, he knew that people only looked at him with pity and compassion, partially because of his ‘crippled’ status, but mostly because of the fact that his wife died.

She was, after all, the one who was good at socializing with others after all. But it was a long time since then – his heart only felt the echoes of distant pangs of pain. Wounds did heal, but scars will forever remain.

But the more that the Father looked at the crowd, the more that he grew intrigued with whatever was happening. It had been a long time since he had kept up with news about the village, and he did not know anything recent about the village.

So he carefully made sure to linger around the crowd as inconspicuously as he could. He might have been called ‘old man’ by a lot of the village kids, but he never let his senses grow dull.

“I heard that a Magical Dungeon appeared recently...”

“Seriously? That’s scary...”

“We have to go post a commission for the Adventurers’ Guild then...”

“Oh my, how much would that cost...”

“Don’t worry. Dungeons have their own loot, so we can simply let them know...”

Magical Dungeon, was it? The Father remembered when he was part of a Dungeon clearing squad. Not quite an adventurer, but more as part of the army. With a shake of his head, he let the thought disappear. He was updated now, and that was all he needed to know. So he stepped away from the crowd, and went to purchase food.

The girl who attended the vegetable stall was there as always. She was nice, even to this man who had graying hairs and had retired in this comfortable village.

“Hey old man!” She greeted, giving him a nod. “What do you wanna buy today? I got potatoes, flour, carrots, and even wheat if you really want it.”

“No cabbages?” The Father asked, his lips turning into a frown.

“Afraid not. You know how everyone loves their cabbages, right?” She replied, giving an awkward grin.

“Fine.” The Father grumbled, as he perused through the vegetables carefully. A fine eye for picking out vegetables, honed over the years of fatherhood. When he had gotten vegetables which seemed to be a cut above the rest, he gave a satisfied nod to himself.

“Oh, are you gonna cook something fancy today?” The girl said, as she not-so-discretely gave a wide stare at the vegetables that the old man took. The finest potatoes, and carrots filled the woven basket.

“Something like that.” He only replied. He brought out his purse. “How much would that be?”

“Just twenty coppers. Harvest’s been great this season!” She said.

“Here you go then.” He handed over the coins tied together by string, and she examined it with a nod.

“Well then, thanks for coming today, old man! See you again next time!” She waved him goodbye, and he only gave a polite nod.

Such an enthusiastic, polite girl. Whoever marries her would be lucky, if nothing else.

With a shake of his head, he walked home. And he glanced at his woven basket filled with vegetables, and realized that it was a little too much for two people to eat. Well, no matter. Marcus was a heavy eater –

He paused. Then he remembered what happened. It was one thing to see Marcus running about, and it was another thing entirely to see him just... disappear. The realization wasn’t painful... but it shattered the veil of peace he had experienced for the past couple of years. Death really came for everything and was unexpected, wasn’t it?

Tobias had told him the story of how it happened from his side. Marcus was claimed by Death itself, was it...? But strange enough, he didn’t quite feel anything... It was almost as if something shut off his emotions for some reason.

But no. It wasn’t as though he didn’t feel anything. He just couldn’t comprehend what had happened, and thus, he couldn’t respond properly. Marcus disappeared randomly – but that did not mean he was dead, right?

“Old man?”

No. Tobias said that it was Death itself who had whisked Marcus away. So why was he only feeling hollow emptiness – It was denial. He did not want to accept the fact that his son was already dead, so he only eluded and confused himself.

Marcus was existing out there somewhere, right? And then, it was only his duty as his father to get him back home.

“Old man!”

And then, he could tell Tobias that he must have played around too much, and that he was wrong. That was correct, that was the state of mind he should embody.

“Old man!” A voice sprang from his side, and the Father was dragged away from his thoughts. The woven basket was dropped to the ground, spilling some of the vegetables stored within. And he had realized that he was currently kneeling, with his hands above his head. “Are you alright?!”

The person who was speaking to him – it was one of Tobias’ younger siblings, wasn’t it? The girl... what was her name again? He only distinctly heard it whenever he came around to play with Marcus. “What is it, kid?” His voice had come out rougher than he intended. Was he always that rough?

“W-well... Y-you were crouching on the ground and you d-dropped your things... so I thought to check on you...” She replied, stammering at times from nervousness, no doubt.

“Ah. My apologies then.” With a smoother tone, he reached down to pick up some of the vegetables which were scattered across the floor. The girl had come to help him, even though her movements indicated that she was somewhat afraid.

It was a silent moment, where they had only gathered and picked up the vegetables by hand and placed them within the basket. Thankfully, not a whole lot had spilled out. And when he turned to stand up and leave, the girl suddenly spoke.

“You... you’re Marcus’ father, right...?” She asked, her hands fidgeting with each other.

“Yeah.” He nodded, and her eyes seemed to widen with relief. “Did you need anything from me?”

“I came to ask you where Tobias was.” What? But the last time that he had seen Tobias was yesterday. “He’s been missing from home since yesterday, and the last time he was seen was around your house... N-not that I’m accusing you or anything...!”

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen him around since he left my house –”

Wait. Tobias disappeared for at least one day. At the same time, there were rumors of a Magical Dungeon popping around the place... No way...

“Hey! Where are you going?”

The Father sprinted as fast as his one functioning leg would allow him, by his side was the widely swinging basket whose contents were kept inside through sheer swinging momentum. He ran towards the inside of his house, being greeted by the paintings of his ancestors. Then he turned towards the fireplace –

The sword was missing.

His eyes widened. His breath hitched. His heart stopped for a beat. And when he connected the dots, his eyes narrowed, as his teeth clenched together.

That boy...!