I wanted to be free. That's why I ran away. Then I realized I'd never be able to escape his clutches if I didn't fight. So I stopped running and fought as hard as I could for my freedom. But the price I paid made me wonder if it was really worth it.
The memory of that fateful day still sears my mind like a branding iron: my wife's lifeless body cradled in my arms, her blood dripping onto my lap like a macabre baptism. The eyes of my father—the God of Death—gleamed with a cold, ghastly intensity as he stood over us, his hands still wet with her blood. In that moment, I realized I had not only failed to protect her but had also taken away her freedom—and that of my fallen comrades who had fought alongside me.
The question echoed in my mind: Would I ever find freedom?
But this story begins several years before that tragic day, in a time when hope still flickered like a candle flame. I was Kaze, a ten-year-old boy clad in white shorts and a plain white shirt, waiting outside Hana's office, lost in thought. This was my favorite part of the day—a brief respite from the rigid schedule that governed my life.
My brothers, Artin and Tharros, each had their own distinct personality. Artin, the eldest was 17 years old, he was a tall dark-haired boy with a pleasant smile that could light up even the darkest places. Tharros, on the other hand, was a brooding fifteen-year-old, consumed by ambition and resentment.
As I waited, Tharros emerged from Hana's office, his eyes flashing with disdain as he passed me.
"What a waste," he spat before disappearing into the shadows.
Hana, our personal doctor, emerged from her office, her eyes warm with kindness.
"Come, Kaze," she said, beckoning me into her chambers.
I settled into the chair opposite Dr. Hana. The familiar routine of our daily check-ins was a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside me.
"Say ahhhhh," she instructed, her voice a gentle prompt as she peered into my mouth with a flashlight. I complied—the examination a mere formality in the grand scheme of things.
With the preliminaries out of the way, she moved on to the medication, her hands moving with practiced ease as she prepared the daily cocktail of pills and injections. I watched with a mix of detachment and resignation, my mind wandering to the world beyond the laboratory's sterile walls.
The pills went down with a bitter aftertaste, a reminder of the artificial balance that kept me functioning. As the medication coursed through my veins, I couldn't help but wonder what lay beyond the confines of this place, and what secret my father still kept hidden.
Dr. Hana's expression softened as I spoke, her eyes filling with a deep empathy. "How are you feeling today, Kaze?" she asked, her voice gentle. I hesitated, my voice barely above a whisper. "Father is visiting today."
Hana's face fell, and she looked at me with a mixture of guilt and concern. I continued, my words tumbling out in a rush. "Father expects great things from me, unlike my brothers. Even though I haven't awakened my powers, that's why Tharros hates me. It's been a year since Father's last visit, and I'm terrified of what they'll do to me if I fail to produce results this time."
My composure crumbled, and I burst into tears. Hana's expression twisted in anguish as she watched me break down. She took a deep breath, her voice calm and soothing. "Kaze, do you know about birds?" she asked, a hint of a smile on her face.
I sniffled, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. "Yes, I've read about them in the books you gave me." Hana's eyes sparkled as she began to explain. "People say birds represent freedom like nothing else can. They spread their wings wide and soar through the sky, feeling the wind beneath their feathers, flying wherever they please."
I listened, entranced, as Hana painted a picture with her words. Her voice was like a balm to my soul, and for a moment, I forgot about the fears that gripped me. "One day, Kaze, I promise you'll be like them," she said, her voice cracking as tears welled up in her eyes. "You'll be free to do whatever you want and go wherever you want go just like a bird. Until then, I need you to stay strong."
As she spoke, her tears spilled over, and I felt a pang of realization – Hana wasn't just a doctor; she was my lifeline, my confidante, and my friend. Though I didn't want to give myself such false hope of escaping this place.
I gave Hana a hug to calm her down realizing the trouble I have caused for her. As I left her office I waved her goodbye and said " See you tomorrow." And she responded with the same words " See you tomorrow." She responded as she closed her office doors.
As I walked down the laboratory hallway, I thought to myself I hope Hana isn't trying to do anything to get me out of here?, she will only get herself killed, I will talk to her tomorrow to make sure she doesn't.