Keeping up with one chapter a day! Though I might have to take a break sometime for a while because exams are coming. I'll try to keep it up at one chapter a day! To those who follow my story, thank you. Love you guys! :)

Fun fact 3: You can't read words and time in your dreams. (FACT!!)

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Loganth was lined up in a queue. Hundreds of people buzzed around him. No space was spared and it crowded the compound. This was a separated space, a private space for a test.

It was just two days that Loganth fought and killed a human for the first time. He reached the gates wondering where he was. It was surreal. He felt no pain from his legs or his body from the cuts he inflicted on himself. He felt no ached nor did he tire. He felt great and he did not believe that it was reality. No blood stains no dirt. It looked like nothing happened. And that was what Loganth thought too.

He knew that he was chased. Everything that transpired was real but Loganth remembered nothing. He questioned reality. Loganth wondered whether everything before the Wall was a dream? But one thing he knew was that he felt pain in his heart. It was uncomfortable, a block weighed on his heart. Strung and chained, crushed and suffocating, it did not feel great. Only his body felt great.

He arrived with little to no security at the doors. The doors were barely guarded. He wondered maybe the Kingdom relied too much on the Wall. Though it could not be argued that the Walls were quite impossible to breach. With great care and thought, he entered the Kingdom with little effort. The Kingdom was named Drownstone. It was peculiar, the name. Reading from the front gate where a history stone was laid, writing of its name and its history. Drownstone, named after the valiant effort by the seventh King, Hurdon Pyne. The House of Pyne laid their name and rule, fought through history and law, and they stood above many.

History writes that the Pyne House laid claim to this land due to its strong foundation, Drownstone. Bordered between the Mountains where blood constantly flowed and cold that never ceased, while drowned by ocean water surrounding it. Similarly the hot stone to the East, where truth and Kingdoms fought for its rights. It was not the best place, but the history laid on it made it mighty. And whoever took it would reign.

It was not lies, as the Pyne House is the strongest with the support of their Gods. They fought wars from the Further East while holding their ground against the Mountain men. What stood was the Mountain, the Wall, Pyne Kingdom and the Further East, separated by the Typical seas where Vas Kingdom stood close.

The Kingdom was spectacular. The crowd walked the streets, no sword in hand. It was peaceful, very unlike the Mountains. Only the guards could lay their hands on their swords. Climbed by armor and thick sweat. The weather was warm, Loganth who lived in the Mountains overflowed with sweat. It filled buckets. Flowers grew by the houses and vendors. Men spoke with elegance and wonder. Quiet with just enough voice, calm and mannered. It was different Loganth thought.

With the Sun sat atop the sky, it was noon. He woke up early in the morning he thought. But he did not know that he ran while unconscious for two days and two night with no rest. Only awake at the gate. It was like a few hours ago when he left the Wall.

Coming up to the front of the line, he was called. "Next" the instructor said. Coming up, he went into a tent. The surface of the inner tent was white compared to its red extremities. The tent was simple though mysterious. Everything was mysterious since he came into the tent. No one was in the tent as he thought, he heard the voice from within the tent.

The mystery though, was the octahedron. It was two pyramids stacked base to base against each other. It was simple but deep. Darkness colored the object. The object lighted the tent, he wondered but he saw no candle, he assumed. He was cautious. He did not know the rules. But he knew that this was enrollment into the University. Not everyone could enter. It was the smartest, the most talented, the richest, the toughest and the most mysterious that entered. He knew not the criteria, but what he didn't know was that the tent he was in, was the mysterious mystery test.

No hearing another instruction. He looked around another time. He braced himself. He didn't know what to do, but he felt compelled to reach for the octahedron. So that was what he did.

With the first touch, he found himself in another land. Far and vast. A house stood in front of him. Alone and isolated. It was familiar and mysterious. He never wondered why was he there. It was natural at that moment. Mysterious as it was, it was his home, before the King of the Mountain took him back for servitude. He looked around. There was nothing but vast skies and stretched land. It wasn't like this. But looking at his home, he reminisced, the nostalgia. It was his life. Appearing out of nowhere, a boy phased through the standing and bewildered Loganth. Shocked, Loganth moved his hands to his body. It touched. It was there. He sighed a breath of relief. With no time for another question, Loganth hears the galloping of horses. He was so focused previously he never realized.

Seven men rode to the front. Led by the King of the Mountain, they got off their horses and got to the door of the house. Not having the chance to call for an audience, the door creaked softly and two people came out. "What do you want Berth." The mother of the child said.

Berth, the King spoke resolutely, "Give me the child Vesa, I need him."

Hiding the child behind her. Berth spoke again, "You knew this was coming, hand the child over." His men rough looking and scarred. They needed a bath.

"No!" The mother shouted. "He's still too young. He needs a home and he needs me!" She said with fear and disgust. He showed it.

As if on queue, two men walked up and pulled the mother from the boy. She struggled and kicked. Female as she was, she pulled herself free from the man, elbowed him in the face and ran up to the boy. She punched the other man in the face. Pulling the boy into her embrace again. Loganth stood there looking as an observer. Looking at this scene, he remembered everything and was going to happen. Not wanting it to happen again.

The man previously elbowed, angry and fuming, unsheathed his sword. Pulling the mother away, he grabbed her from behind and slashed her abdomen. Her intestines dropped out and blood flowed with it. "NO!!" the boy screamed. Late as Loganth was to react, he tried catching the woman into his embrace before she phased through him and fell to the ground. He bawled and screamed. This was torture, watching his mother dying again. He felt anger and sadness.

He lied on the floor by the Vesa, his mother. He ran his fingers by her face. tearing in pain and anger. She held onto the little life she had left.

The boy, despite being ten, practiced the art of killing from a young age. He ran and tackled the killer of his mother. Caught off guard, the boy sat on the man by his chest and punched the man tirelessly. His flesh on his knuckles tore, his fingers broken and his heart ached. The man's face twisted with fragments of broken facial bones with torn flesh and missing teeth.

"Loganth." the woman said softly, the loudest she could. Though a whisper, little Loganth heard it as clear as day. He stopped and looked at her. Pale and wet, she still smiled. It was the sweetest.

"Don't" She continued. "Stop, Loganth" She said more but he heard nothing more. But what he little he heard, it was the voice of heaven. It melted his heart, and he broke down as she breathed her last breath.

Little Loganth, consumed by grief and revenge. Cried and took her last words as a vow. He would live and eat by it.

Though, the ephemeral Loganth. Lying down by her side, heard everything he never heard the first time. "Don't kill when consumed." That was her last words.

Still grieving, Berth came up to little Loganth. He pushed him away from the unrecognizable man, took a sword and drove it through the man. Despite his own men, he cared little for the man. Vesa was his one of many women he slept with. And he cherished her. He did nothing to stop the man, as he knew these would be a weakness and flaw in his life if his men knew what a weak Mountain man and King he is. But he still could kill the man if he wanted to. Strength was the answer.

Little Loganth, took that as revenge against the man, by his hands or another. The man had to die.

Still crying. His vision changed once more. In a forest, he stood. Blade in hand. This time he was in his own body. Not an observer but a participant. Though, he could not control his muscles, he sees, he smells, he feels, he hears, he taste and he thinks his own, present, at that moment.

Four men across his view. Two on the floor and two directly in front of him. He felt the blade through Bon's neck, slicing the head off its shoulder. He felt the head of the skinny man, crushed between his fingers. And he felt his hand through Krit and Joe's chest, and their hearts beating in his palm. He smelled their blood. He tasted their blood from the messy job. He heard blade and hand through bones and flesh. He saw what he did. He gagged. Disgusted by the act. He knew it was him. He just knew. The felt his heart tugged. That was what happened.

His vision blurred this time and he was back to where he first touched the octahedron. He realized now, it was some sort of stone. It was cold and elongated and it fitted right in his hands. There he stood, six foot two tall, black haired to his neck, clean faced and bewildered.

"You didn't pass." A voice said, the instructor it must be. Loganth heard it though he didn't pay it much thought nor did he question the method. He did not question whether this was natural, how much time passed or whether they saw what he saw. He walked out the way he came in. The crowd was bustling with tiny cliques and small conversations. Though his mind was working, silence from any external noises. He mind just went back to those scenes. Reliving it. He was in his own world at this moment.