Chapter 45

Battle within Oneself

“Arthur! Hey, Arthur!” Duliri’s voice echoed as Arthur sensed a light nudge on his back. He slowly opened his eyes, rubbing them with the back of his hand. The same white walls decorated with an ashen serpent came into view as he looked around.

“Wait-” He frowned. His brows knitted together while lines heaped on his forehead. “Why am I here?” he asked in confusion once he noticed that was back in his room, even sitting on his chair. The books laid open on the table in front of him.

“Huh?” Duliri, who hovered beside him, responded with an exaggerated tone.

“My lord,” Hula said calmly. “We are in your room. You’re currently practicing how to perceive the flow of magical energy.”

His grip on the pebble in his right hand tightened still as he tilted his head. “Am I?”

A moment of silence brushed through them before Duliri spoke again “Hang on, Arthur. Did you...” he paused grimly. “Did you fall asleep?”

The boy scratched his head. His eyes looked somewhere else unseeingly. “That’s a dream? That red-haired woman?” He then ran to the wide-open window and peeked at the clear blue sky. “And are there no giant beetles outside?”

“What?” Duliri followed in confusion. “There’s no strange woman or giant beetles that you speak of, Arthur. You must have fallen asleep,” he emphasized, audibly annoyed, “and dreamed of something.”

“Do not raise your voice to the Lord, Duliri,” Hula warned sharply. “He must be tired. Let him rest.”

“No,” Arthur whispered as he smashed his head on the window frame. A painful groan escaped his lips.

“Arthur?” Duliri immediately glided in front of him. “What are you doing?”

The question remained unanswered. The boy sprinted back to his chair as he massaged his forehead, the staff closely following behind him. “So this is not a dream?” he whispered as his hand clutched the stone tighter. He then closed his eyes and tried to feel the flow of mana. He ignored Hula and Duliri’s statements that he should rest. A few more breaths and he sensed a familiar heat on his hand.

‘This isn’t a dream, is it?’ he asked himself. ‘These feelings are too real to be one…’

The flow of mana pulsated, like a stable heartbeat. He opened his eyes and stretched his hand forward. He tried to control a small amount of magical energy and fire it on the wall.

At the very same moment, the door swung open. A gunshot sound and the creaks of the door both echoed. Then there was a clang followed as though something fell on the floor. The boy immediately turned his head. His heart skipped a beat as Katarina stood like a clenched fist not too far from the door.

“Arthur?” She muttered, her eyes wide open. Ignoring the fact that she had stepped on her short staff, she advanced towards Arthur slowly. Her hands shook while brief silence loomed upon them.

“Arthur…” she repeated, her voice cracking. “What did I tell you?”

“I’m so-”

Bam.

Arthur fell from the chair to the floor. His hand unconsciously moved to his left cheek. He slowly raised his gaze. The same hand began to tremble as he witnessed a wave of unfathomable anger reflected in his grandmother’s eyes. He tried to speak, but the words were choked in his throat.

“Gra… granny?”

A few more moments and her face and body began to morph. The surroundings also vanished. His father gradually emerged while an old interior of a dark and dirty kitchen materialized. Loudly, the boy’s stomach growled and fresh bruises appeared on his brown skin. He could also feel a numbing pain all over his legs and waist.

“Arthur,” Christian muttered, inhaling deep from his cigarette. Once he exhaled the smoke, he said with a voice that got louder after every word, “Didn’t I tell you not to eat anything from the fridge. You little piece of shit!”

The scrawny boy couldn’t answer as he desperately crawled away. His bottom slowly slid on the floor. ‘Not here. Anywhere. Take me anywhere but not here.’ Those were the only words that ran through his head. And as soon as his father wrapped his fingers around his neck, tears began to fall from his eyes.

“Where are you going?” Christian asked with a wicked smile that briefly changed into a frown. His stare of disgust ignited in the darkness. “You’re such a disobedient piece of useless garbage!”

Cries and helpless groan emanated inside the kitchen as Arthur desperately flayed his hands and feet to flee. The sharp friction of his long filthy fingernails against the cold floor added to the song of his despair. A moment later, a strong blow connected over the back of his head. His vision turned more blurry, not only from the tears but also from his waning consciousness. In pure lightheadedness, he barely heard his own strained groan as he received several punches and kicks on his small frame.

Christian lit another cigarette. Then after ripping off the boy’s old and baggy shirt, he pushed the tip of the stick against his back. A harrowing howl burst through Arthur’s mouth. The burning sensation almost robbed him off of his sanity. The boy laid flat on the floor, panting heavily. No longer did his small stature can give any more of a fight. Now, he merely twitched, maybe let out a shriek or two, as the pain continued. As the last drop of tears fell, he closed his eyes.

‘If this is a nightmare, please, let me wake up. Please-’

He hadn’t even finished the thought when the pain halted in an instant.

“Arthur?” a familiar soft voice called behind his ears just about when a bell rang from somewhere.

Arthur turned around, seeing a girl wearing a familiar highschool uniform. The surrounding was filled with shelves stacked with school books and manuals. He stared, cold sweat rolling down his back. He begged the gods, all the gods he knew to stop the nightmare because he couldn't take any more of it.

“Hey, Arthur,” the girl called again. “We should get back to class. Lunch break is over.”

However, as soon as he stood up from the wooden chair and the girl turned around, everything turned dark. The bookshelves turned into walls and the table in front of him vanished. At the same time, a faceless man appeared in front of the girl who morphed into a lady in her late twenties.

“What the-” Arthur muttered, his eyes couldn’t be any bigger. Then immediately, he shut his eyes tightly. He didn’t want to see what was going to happen. He already knew. Yet for some reason, his body began to act on its own.

“Just a little bit, Claire…” the man pleaded, kneeling before the woman. Tears were flowing below the rim of his eyes. His hand clasped hers ever so tenderly. “Just give me a little more time and I’ll change. Please...”

“I can’t take any more of this, Francis.” Claire shook her head and pushed his arms away. “My savings are dry in just four months, Francis, in just four months,” she emphasized. “I can’t give anymore.” She then turned around and walked towards Arthur who simply stood in disbelief. When he thought that she’d stop in front of him, she simply walked past his body as though he wasn’t there.

Arthur spun and took slow and short steps until Francis also dashed through him. Before he could fully respond, the man grabbed a knife and stabbed her back. He ran after them but no matter how much he approached, he couldn’t close the distance between them. He could only watch in horror as the man punctured her body countless times.

His knees trembled as Arthur stumbled back. With his eyes wide open, he fell on the floor, laid his face on his knees, and wrapped his arms around his legs.

“It’s your fault,” Claire’s distorted voice said, over and over again.

When Arthur couldn’t listen anymore, he covered his ear, still trembling.

“It’s your fault, Arthur,” two different voices said behind his ears.

Arthur refused to give up his sanity. He already defeated these demons in the past. Mustering all his strength, he sucked a massive breath before hesitantly looking up.

Claire stood ahead, a knife impaled her chest. There was a smile on her face while blood streamed out of her body. “It’s your fault, Arthur. You could have saved me.”

His hands moved away from his ears. His eyes didn’t blink. Arthur lifted his chin and steeled his heart. Even though he already saw his grandparents’ mouths were curved into a distorted smile, he didn’t look away.

“But why would you die with such a stupid reason?” Renato asked while Clarissa also spoke, “Did you truly care about us, Arthur?”

Then, his father slid into the scene. Even Katarina and Vlanca appeared. Lastly, the incarnations of Hula and Duliri also emerged. All of them wore condescending stares and distorted smiles as they looked down on him.

“Coward,” they all began to say in unison.

Tears fell; his legs, hands, arms, and fingers trembled; and his heart ached. Still, Arthur kept his head firmly felt as he bit his lower lip. He won’t be defeated. Because he might be weak and a coward, but he was never a quitter.

Suddenly, his vision turned dark, and then there was a blinding light. He blinked before staring back again into the light. Then after a moment, there was darkness again—

Young Arthur tried to turn around, but his body betrayed him. Tears continued to fall as he took deep rapid breaths.

“What the hell is happening?” the same question ran through his head as an eerie heat crept through his hands. He looked at it with the corner of his eyes since he could barely move. With so much lightheadedness, he barely noticed a blurry image of small blue flames arising from his hand. Gradually, it spread through his body. However, as fear enveloped his being, he was once again pulled inside another dream, or maybe, another nightmare.