Pathos had fallen asleep, not only his body but his very soul were still worn-out; and before he could even realize how tired he was his eyes acted before his very brain. His view of the present equaled complete darkness. But something else stirred him awake from his slumber.
A voice called out for Pathos— soft and almost familiar. Slowly, Pathos begins to wake, the voice continuing to call him. His vision, blurry.
But the figure that laid in front of him was none other than his own mother. A dream? Or was that his real mother? He wasn't able to tell the difference; his imagination was combined with reality. Although. There was indeed someone calling out to him but their voice began to change as he slowly woke up.
As his sight sharpens, someone's hand gently rested on his head with the same warmth a mother would have for her own child. But to his misfortune he found someone he wasn't expecting.
«Petra» Ah... I'm sorry, did I wake you?
Pathos blinked, staring into her kind pink eyes, his mind still heavy with sleep. It wasn't until a jolt from the carriage wheel striking a stone jarred him back to reality, Lifting his head, Pathos rubbed his eyes before stating.
«Pathos» Oh…I was asleep…I thought you were somewhere else…
Petra tilted her head slightly while gently caressing the top of Pathos's head.
«Petra» Oh? Who else would I be? I know this is our first time talking but I think you would recognize the face of someone sitting in the same carriage as you.
Pathos glanced around the cramped carriage as Petra watched him with a puzzled look. For a moment Pathos thought that everything that happened could have all been just a dream, but when he was reminded of his surroundings that hope quickly fades away.
While hurtfully gripping his clock after being once again reminded of the harsh reality his fingers sank into a patch of cold, sticky mud, surprising Pathos.
«Pathos» Ah?
Both he and Petra glanced at the mess now smeared across his hand as the mud dripped from his hand to the wooden tiles.
«Petra» My husband told me a bit about you. Have you been traveling alone all that time?
Pathos's hand reached for a clean side of that drenched cloak and used it to clean his own hand from the mud. Only for it to stick onto the cloak, although that was something Pathos didn't quite care about.
«Pathos» Yeah…I wanted to go on foot initially but i guess the weather was against me
He chuckled as he finished his sentence almost as if he was trying to ease up the tension of those around him when in reality the only one that was on high alert was himself.
But Petra didn't look quite happy with his answer instead she looked almost distraught. The idea that this kid would have continued to march on towards his own destination without anyone.
«Petra» You could have turned back you know…Or settle somewhere and wait for someone to pass by. It was stupid of you to continue to walk in such a state.
She pointed her hand up and down at Pathos as if saying to him "Just look at yourself".
Perhaps she was right, maybe it truly was just a bad move on Pathos's side. Although in that moment, the moment when he took his first step, he wasn't thinking, not because he was stupid or something but because his mind clouded his way of thinking,
But just as he began to recall all those bad memories Petra's soft demand brought him back once again.
«Petra» You are foolish. Come on hand over that cloak of yours so I can clean it.
Pathos is taken aback by the request; he couldn't tell if it was out of kindness or not, but nonetheless he couldn't simply hand out something that was his. At the same time if he gave his cloak to her, she would reveal what he was trying to hide.
«Pathos» Wha—no thanks. I'm going to throw it away once we reach the city. I'm not really attached to it.
If he was going to hide the truth from them again, he had to live with this; wet, muddied and probably torn cloak until the end of this ride. It was harsh, but for the moment being it was his only choice. However,
«Petra» But I can't let you wear it until the end of the ride—you'll get sick. Come on.
He was quickly met with Petra's loud concerns, unlike what he expected she was genuinely troubled for his health. Was that her maternal figure kicking in or what? She withdrew her hand from his head and extended it expectantly signaling him to give it to her.
«Petra» Cooooome on~. I can take it off you if you want!
Her voice was soothing but for some reason very demanding not in a bad way but as if she was setting up a trap that would only trigger if he said no.
«Pathos» Really, there's no need.
But as soon as her answer was replayed, she immediately demanded yet again, using that very same tempting tone.
«Petra» Give it~
Pathos's head backed away as if he were terrified of her innocent smile that somehow emanated a sense of danger into Pathos flesh. Francis, hearing the commotion, joined in. He knew his wife well enough to know who was going to win the dispute.
«Francis» It's useless. My wife won't back down once she decides something. I've gone through that same fate multiple times.
Pathos glanced at Francis, then back at Petra's patient—yet stubborn—smile. He slumps in defeat. Reluctantly, he pulled the cloak from his shoulders.
Now Pathos still wanted to keep things how they were but at the same time, the thoughtful lady and soon to be mother was still reluctant to back down, just like a game of chess, he was forced to make this move if he didn't want to create a commotion.
As he held it out to Petra, she froze. Her eyes widened while Pathos blinked, confused. The cloak that was covering his face all this time had revealed something nobody ever expected
«Pathos» Is something wrong?
Yup. That's it, she caught him red-handed, the truth was about to unfold and he had nowever to escape but even if that meant that he had to reveal everything to them, hide it anymore. Their overwhelming kindness was already enough for him to understand that they are good people.
Petra pointed at his face, looking half-curious, half-shocked. Pathos immediately sighted in defeat already knowing that he would be forced to tell the truth, however the direction of where she was pointing her finger was somewhere Pathos didn't remember having anything out of place.
«Pathos» Mhm?
He tilted his head using it as a last excuse to try and hide his past.
«Petra» You have four sets of eyes!
But what he expected was far from what he actually thought. Four!?
«Pathos and Francis» What!?
It was a joke or simply she didn't see correctly! Perhaps her eyesight was betraying her due to her pregnancy. There couldn't really be another set of eyes. RIGHT!?
Francis turned sharply in his seat as Pathos frantically touched his face, his fingers brushing over a second pair of closed eyelids just beneath his normal ones. His heart hammered in his chest.
Oh fuck!
How didn't he notice this sooner! He never had two other eyes to begin with so what the hell were even those!? No. Certainly it must all be a dream for sure he was still dreaming!
Unfortunately for him it wasn't a dream and as he would soon come to learn this was the true and harsh reality. He stared at Petra, fear gripping him. Would she recoil? Would she scream? His thoughts spiraled. In a panic, he squeezed his eyes shut.
This is it. There was nothing he could say that could potentially help him in this kind of situation. What could even say!? "oh it's genetic" NO! Most people who have irregular body shapes get rejected by humanity itself! But she didn't seem like that kind of person….
The silence stretched unbearably. Pathos could barely breathe, waiting for the disgust, the fear — anything but the warmth he once saw in her eyes.
«Petra» How cute..!
«Pathos» Eh?
Pathos cracked one eye open in confusion. His mind was covered with that very same answer "eh?"
«Petra»: I've never seen one up close. I always thought they were just myths, but now that I'm seeing the real thing... it's different. Kind of adorable, really.
More than ever, his mind was entangled in a ball so big that even he couldn't untie. His new-found eyes and her strange behaviour around said eyes…
…Just what the hell was happening!?
«Pathos» You're not...afraid or disgusted?
«Petra» Disgusted? Who do you take me for?
Petra puffed her cheeks dramatically, clearly offended. Relief crashed over Pathos like a wave, though guilt gnawed at his stomach. He waved his hands frantically, trying to explain.
«Pathos» N-No, wait, it's not like that! I just thought—you might see me as a monster and—
Petra leaned closer, a spark of indignation in her eyes. Pathos instinctively backed up until his shoulders bumped against the carriage wall.
«Petra» A monster!? Why would I ever think such a thing!?
Pathos's shoulders sagged. Completely defeated, he lowered his gaze and rested his hands limply on his knees.
«Pathos» I'm sorry...
From the driver's seat, Francis watched, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Almost as if he was happy to not be the one that's upsetting her this time.
Petra huffed and marched to the other side of the carriage, dragging the cloak with her completely avoiding Pathos's figure.
«Petra» That's it. I'm mad now.
Pathos reached an arm toward her helplessly, shooting a pleading look at Francis, but Francis only chuckled and shook his head.
«Francis» It's no use now. Her mood is tempered so let her be for now. Why don't ya come up here?
He patted the bench beside him invitingly. Pathos hesitated glancing back and forth towards both Petra and Francis slowly clambered up next to him, still sneaking glances back at Petra, who was aggressively scrubbing the muddy cloak.
Francis leaned in and spoke in a lower, more comforting tone.
«Francis» Don't worry. She's not really mad at you. She's just... complicated sometimes.
His voice softened, a tinge of exhaustion creeping in, which Pathos noticed and could very well understand the reason why…he was so tired.
«Francis» Especially lately, because of the pregnancy.
Pathos fidgeted with his fingers with guilt.
«Pathos» I didn't think she would react like that...
«Francis» Again, there is no need for you to worry this much. You might think she is mad but look at her.
Francis turned around followed by Pathos who was extremely sorrowful. Petra was working with quiet determination, wringing and soaking the filthy cloak without a hint of resentment.
«Francis» She's still doing what she promised, even if it's not for herself.
Perhaps Pathos had misjudged her. He expected her to be mad or at least completely reluctant to do what she initially proposed to do. But seeing her determinate stare towards his worked up cloak made him realize that his initial prejudice was wrong.
«Pathos» I get it
But now he felt guilty for even misjudging her. However something else stirred in his mind right now. Petra mentioned that his eyes were a myth or came from a myth. Could that mean that there could be an explanation to these eyes?
«Pathos» Sorry if this may sound weird but, that myth that she mentioned, do you happen to know anything about it? Because they are quite unfamiliar to me.
What myth was she even talking about? Pathos may have heard many tales but none matched with this. He searched deep in his mind for such a tale to the point it felt like he was twisting his own brain like a wet towel. But nothing came to mind
Francis came up close, searching for the already evident eyelids that rested under Pathos's eyes. After taking his sweet time verifying that those were the tale's eyes, he replayed.
«Francis» I'm not quite sure I can't say for certain but I did hear a tale about those very eyes many years back. If I remember correctly their name is Kindled-eyes.
Kindled eyes? A word Pathos had never heard before, his mind tries to remember a conversation or story where the word "Kindled eye " was mentioned. But again he never heard it from anybody.
«Francis» Can you try opening them?
«Pathos» Wha–no? Let me try…
He focused, willing the strange eyes to open. But nothing. They stayed stubbornly shut. However an idea travels his mind, an idea that perhaps could solve the unresponsive eyes to open.
And as soon as that idea came up, he touched his face to feel the closed eyes and once there he slowly pulled them open.
«Pathos» How does it look?
Francis felt a shiver run down his spine as he saw Pathos casually opening the Kindled eyes only to find that those were just empty sockets; no pupil, no eye not even the nerves that attach one's eye. Francis's gaze shifted multiple times out of disgust until he stared at it for a second—then immediately recoiled, shuddering.
«Francis» Well... uh... there's nothing there.
«Pathos» Ah?
Pathos out of curiosity carefully probed the area, confirming that there is only an empty, hollow socket. While Francis's spine shivered in horror.
«Francis» God, please don't do that. It's making me want to puke.
«Pathos» Oh, I'm sorry.
Pathos quickly dropped his hands into his lap. The Kindled eyes were empty shells however their presences meant something that Pathos couldn't tell yet.
«Francis» Sorry but. I really don't remember anything about those eyes, perhaps my wife may know something more but i say for the moment we let her be.
«Pathos» It's alright. Do you perhaps remember who told you about it?
«Francis» No — truth be told, I only heard it secondhand, through a story someone else told.
«Pathos» Mhm.
But another memory popped in his mind, those lightnings he summoned or conjured, were those something connected to those eyes?
He looked down at his hands, trying to summon the power again. Nothing happened. Not even a spark. He strained until his face flushed red, but nothing happened—not a spark. Whatever fueled that power... it wasn't there now.
He let out a frustrated sigh, tilting his head to the side as the carriage rumbled down the endless road. He could remember little about that night, but he could never forget the pain and fear he felt in that moment. He looks back at Francis.
«Pathos» I didn't even ask you why you're headed to Serras.
Francis looks at Pathos, then glances at the sky, pondering. Thinking about the reason behind this travel and the family that awaited him at Serras.
«Francis» Well, you see, 5 years have passed since I last saw my family and they still don't know about the pregnancy.
He starts scratching his cheek with his finger while shifting his gaze back to Pathos.
«Francis» So we thought, why not surprise them in person? I wonder what their reaction is going to be...
Francis smiles mischievously.
«Francis» Oh, you see, I have a sister, and she is...
Francis freezes and quickly examines Pathos closely.
«Francis» How old are you?
Pathos looks at Francis, trying to understand if the question was genuine or not.
«Pathos» I'm fifteen.
Francis looks ahead again.
«Francis» Ah, I see. So, as I was—wait, fifteen!?
«Pathos» Yeah?
«Francis» YOU'RE FIFTEEN!?
Francis examines him again, trying to spot anything he might have missed. Now that Pathos isn't wearing that cloak, he can clearly tell he's thirteen. Francis quickly rubs his forehead with his hand wondering how someone so young can be this tall.
«Francis» My apologies. I thought you were a lot older with that cloak on.
«Pathos» Ah, is that why...
«Francis» Well, as I was saying, my little sister always thought that I would never have a wife. Nor kids.
«Pathos» Ah so you are just going back to Serras because you want to prove her wrong, is that it?
«Francis» What? N—no... it's so I can give a huge surprise to my parents. I would never stand that low just to prove a point.
Francis starts giggling, imagining the defeated look on his little sister's face. Pathos looks at him, and by the way he's laughing and that mischievous look on his face, Pathos can tell he's lying.
But someone else spoke for his sake.
«Petra» Liar...
«Francis» Ah, here it is.
Pathos leaned forward, wide-eyed. In front of them loomed the massive stone walls of Serras, towering like a mountain made of bricks. It blocked most of the view, but that only made the city behind it feel more alive, more mysterious.
«Francis» Welcome to Serras.
«Pathos» I've never seen anything like this!
«Francis» First time visiting?
«Pathos» Yeah... I—
He stopped himself. The lie about his parents gnawed at him.
«Pathos» —never had the time before. I always lived in villages or desolate areas. This.....is a new experience for me.
«Francis» Mhm. If you're impressed now, just wait till we get inside. Merchants on every corner... and the ladies aren't bad either.
Before Pathos could react, Petra spun around, twisting the wet cloak in her fists.
«Petra» I heard that.
Francis raised his hands, laughing.
«Francis» Kidding, kidding! Wouldn't trade you for the world.
Petra gave a proud "hmph" and turned back. Pathos, meanwhile, stared at Francis in awe. Pathos is impressed by how smoothly Francis handled her sharp temper, much better than he did before.
«Francis» So if you're interested, you have some possibilities here.
«Pathos» Possibilities?
Francis smiles and speaks again with a calm voice.
«Francis» To find the love of your li—
But before he could finish his sentence Petra joined in unannounced immediately putting an end to his tomfoolery, even though to him it was an important conversation.
«Petra» I think it's a bit too early for that. No?
Francis answers back, his tone lowered by the sudden interruption.
«Francis» You didn't even let me finish my sentence...
They reach the gates where two armored soldiers signal for Francis to stop the carriage for inspection. But before they could even start the inspection, Pathos immediately covered his second eyes with the collar of his shirt. One soldier approached Francis, looking him up and down, while the other inspected the back.
«Soldier» Well, well, well. Francis. It's been a while since we last saw each other, hasn't it?
«Francis» It has. How have you been?
«Soldier» I've been doing good so far.
The soldier noticed Pathos and stared at him for a moment before exchanging a quick glimpse towards Francis as if he were checking him out for any resemblance with that man.
«Soldier» Is this yours?
«Francis» No, he isn't. He's too tall to be mine.
He said in a jokeful tone which the Soldier seemed accustomed to. Perhaps they were friends? or did they simply know each other?
«Soldier» I see. I see
«Francis» Real kid's still in the womb — can't show him off yet.
«Soldier» Aaaah, unfortunate.
The soldier who inspected and started a brief conversation with Petra called out for the other soldier.
«2 Soldier» All clear!
«Soldier» You're free to go. Say hi to your family for me, will you?
«Francis» I will.
With a crack of the reins, the horse moved forward, pulling the carriage into the lively streets of Serras. The streets buzzed with life, just like Francis said — carriages rumbled along the roads while people on foot crowded the sides.
Multiple shops lined the entrances, and one in particular stood out, full of colorful flowers of all shapes and sizes.
People talked, people traded. Pathos held onto the edges of the carriage just to get a better look at everything. He sniffed the air around him as he passed by that shop, but that wasn't the only thing he smelled.
From the other side of the road, another shop stood out. Outside of that shop, multiple types of meat were laid on display. The smell of fresh meat as he passed by filled his nose, and his mouth started watering in response.
«Pathos» Wow...
«Francis» I told you.
«Pathos» I didn't expect to be this cheerful. It's beautiful.
«Francis» I'm glad.
But Pathos's smile faded. His chest tightened as the memory came back — why he was really here. Pathos sits down properly, remembering that he isn't here to have fun. He is here to search for someone that can help him.
Elsewhere, a horse gallops through the mist. Two soldiers ride together, their destination unclear. Both wear the same emblem that Pathos bears on his cloak. One controls the reins while the other stands behind him, holding on lazily. He yawns.
«Anoyed Soldier» What a pain in the ass. I could have stayed home with my wife.
«Soldier riding» Blame the other squadron. We didn't get any information, so we had to check it out ourselves.
«Anoyed Soldier» I know.
he sighed heavily. This wasn't supposed to be what they had to do for the day, but since they never got the news from their previous squadron they had to go and check up if something had occurred.
And that annoyed him greatly
«Anoyed Soldier» I swear to God, if they're still alive and just forgot, I'm beating their asses.
«Soldier riding» I doubt that.
«Anoyed Soldier» Huh? Why?
«Soldier riding» Look ahead.
The second soldier frowns in confusion, then sees it—the village sprawled out before them, littered with corpses, both villagers and comrades. The villagers death was something he expected but to see his brothers in arm's corpses scattered across that same village shocked him but also impressed him.
«Anoyed Soldier» Oh. So something did happen.
But there was something odd about their corpses, it didn't look like it was an attack dealt with a weapon, not a sword, not even a hammer matched with their injuries. But all of them shared the same exact trait, their corpses were still smoldering, some had their armor melted into their flesh while others were left with faces completely missing of their skin to a degree that the muscles were visible.
«Soldier riding» My suspicion was right.
They ride into the village—the same one Pathos had left behind. Death hung thick in the air, heavy and suffocating. Flies buzzed greedily over the bloated bodies, some crawling into gaping mouths and hollow, empty eyes.
«Anoyed Soldier» Ugh... I've seen my share of corpses, but this many in one place? Never. What do you think happened here?
They had reached the center of that village. At its very middle it seemed like something had spread its tendrils towards the now dead soldiers, the mud that was present that night, hardened into dirt and that very same dirt had kept the memory of such a carnage.
«Soldier riding» Hard to say. But judging by their wounds, they didn't fight someone with a weapon. No... whoever did this didn't use any weapon at all.
«Anoyed Soldier» A beast, then?
«Soldier riding» No. If it were a monster, there wouldn't be any bodies left; they tend to feast on whatever they find. This problem is much bigger than we thought.
«Anoyed Soldier» Elaborate.
«Soldier riding» It's possible that one of our targets has learned to use the Prometeo.
«Anoyed Soldier» Someone who can use the Prometeo... Interesting.
«Soldier riding» Let's head back and report this. We'll probably have to track this guy down.
The rider glances around, his eyes narrowing as he spots fresh footprints pressed into the damp earth, betraying Pathos yet again.
«Soldier riding» Oh?