In a desolate world, a fate was written inside it that prevents us from escaping.
It does not allow us to leave our world, until we became like a bird trapped in a cheap but thick iron cage.
Around the cage, we hear terrifying whispers and see spirits whose faces are drawn with anger and harshness while they look at us humans with dark eyes that feel repulsion and hostility that cannot be explained.
And with not a single chance to escape from that miserable world, greed increased and the rulers' avarice appeared on their faces,
and the world became like a game they control and wait for its outcomes,
and without humans realizing their deeds and blindly following the will of the rulers,
what was forgotten began to return and the corroded rusty spots that had been repaired began to crack again, announcing the return of something our minds cannot comprehend, something that killed hundreds to hide it.
*****
Year 1430, Valemir City – ten days left until the Founding Anniversary
Amid the beautiful atmosphere of Valemir city and among the gathering crowds who came from afar, the young Loren walked slowly, trying not to lose focus from this large gathering.
Loren wore a light red fabric jacket with long sleeves and loose brown pants, and held a silver pocket watch in his hand.
That young man with the frail body was about to collapse at any moment, but he tried to hold himself together, as all his thoughts revolved around one thing,
to the point that he neglected his hair styling, appearing like a madman who ran away from his home and left his family.
Loren began to feel sorrow; his eyes narrowed, and he tried to hold back tears from a deep sadness he could not suppress. He felt like screaming, reaching a stage where he appeared crazy before the onlookers.
Loren thought he was born to carry a sword,
so he always sought to become a knight,
not just any knight, but greater than those crowned,
but when he saw his reflection, he felt all his efforts were in vain, and that his body would never make him a knight, and everything he dreamed of was just illusions.
Loren stood trying to breathe, then looked at the gate of Valemir, that majestic gate made of beautiful blue stone resembling diamond, surrounded by a small wall reaching the size of the small gate.
Loren stared carefully, but his thoughts were not about the unusual beauty of the Valemir gate or the crowd suffocating the city,
he only thought about the chivalry test that would happen in ten days.
Loren muttered while cursing his luck, "Not today, Akron."
Loren said to himself: "Ten days left until the Founding Anniversary and I have achieved nothing, only waving that damn wooden stick."
Loren began to breathe with difficulty; at that moment he felt his inner world collapsing, and his body unable to resist, to the point he almost fell again.
He said in a hoarse voice: "I just want to sleep, but the fear inside me does not let me sleep peacefully."
Loren pressed his watch and said inside, feeling fear: "It's a test that happens once a year, and I'm not ready."
Loren pressed his head with his hands trying to think of a solution. "There is no solution, no matter how I think now I won't find one, and with this unbearable headache, thinking of a solution is impossible."
Loren searched for a place to sit, as his body could not bear standing.
He kept walking in disorganized steps, holding his head from the strong pain, and trying with his left hand to shield his swollen eye from the scorching sun.
After walking for ten full minutes, Loren found a chair.
As soon as his body approached the chair, it collapsed on him, and upon sitting he felt the pain in his legs,
but even with that his fatigue did not subside. Loren said to himself: "Damn the chivalry test or just sleep, once I return home I will jump on the bed and not care if the bed collapses, I will just continue sleeping."
Loren looked with his narrow black eyes at the sky, which seemed unusually clear.
Then he stared at the withered leaves of the trees; he did not stare at them without reason, for he saw a similarity between himself and those leaves.
After the brief comfort Loren felt, he stood, adjusted his clothes, and continued his way home, immersing again in his endless thoughts.
Loren said while scratching his hair: "I need to take a shower before I sleep; my smell is unbearable."
He looked around, hoping no one he knew would see him.
He just wanted to continue his way, but in his mind there was a strange matter: why on this day among all days there was no heavy guard, especially on the day people gathered to prepare for the Founding Anniversary? He said in a low voice: "It's strange; in past years I saw knights on every side of the city, but I don't see even one of them."
Then Loren continued his words: "I know how dangerous the situation is, but even if most scholars disappeared, it does not mean the absence of guards."
At that moment, amid all these endless and multiplying thoughts,
Loren stopped again,
but this time it was not from fatigue,
his body shivered and froze in place,
he felt his feet unable to move from the terror of what he saw,
the place went dark in his eyes,
and a glowing red hand full of blood appeared,
making that exhausted young man terrified in the same moment.
Its sight was detailed and its smell penetrated his nose with unimaginable strength,
he could not imagine it or call it illusions, even creating another nearly impossible hypothesis—what he saw could not be believed by the mind.
When he turned, Loren lost his ability to speak,
he saw people without eyes, without hands, without heads,
only empty vessels moving without concern or care for him.
But as soon as he panicked, the scene returned to what it was,
Loren stood frozen, looking at the people around him who, when they looked at him, recoiled quickly;
their eyes bulged red in a way that suggested the madness of whoever stood before them.
Loren said in a terrified voice: "What did I see, by Akron, these are not humans, nor spirits."
Unlike every time, Loren fell to his knees; his legs collapsed and all his energy drained.
From afar, an old man appeared who seemed to know Loren; upon seeing Loren's condition, he ran quickly toward him.
Loren said in a weak voice, looking at him in a moment of weakness: "Sir Haron, I haven't seen you for a while."
Sir Haron looked shocked and said in a terrified voice: "It's not the time, Loren, what happened to you to see you in this state?"
Loren tried to stand but could not, looking at the ground while holding his head. "Nothing, Sir Haron, don't worry."
Sir Haron grabbed Loren by his shoulders and said: "Nothing you are talking about, Loren; look at yourself—you can't even stand."
Loren said: "It's just... a headache, Sir Haron..."
Sir Haron tightened his hold and tried to help him move, then said: "Enough, Loren, you can't move easily, so how do you want me to believe you?"
Loren, unable to look up, said: "I'm only delaying you, Sir Haron; don't waste your time on me."
Sir Haron looked at Loren with narrowed eyes; wrinkles appeared on his face,
he was only worried about him.
Sir Haron said in a low voice: "Loren, remember when you went with me to Valemir, your father entrusted me with you."
Then he continued: "Don't worry, leave everything to me."
Loren said in a broken voice: "Thank you, Sir Haron."
"Don't mention it."
Loren always looked up to Sir Haron as his role model; Sir Haron was a great knight,
he had participated in many wars alongside great knights,
and retired after accomplishing all his tasks with pride.
But Loren should not have shown this weakness, especially in front of Sir Haron.
Loren thought to himself: "I feel my body collapsing with every step I take; I feel my eyes weakening when I look up, what is happening to me?"
Sir Haron said: "How is your condition with the chivalry test? Do you find yourself ready for it?"
Loren replied in a hoarse voice full of deep sorrow: "Not well. The truth is I see all my dreams beginning to collapse, Sir Haron. I haven't even succeeded in waving the wooden sword, so how can I become a knight? It's a heavy title for a failure like me."
Sir Haron smiled and said: "We all felt the same way. The truth, Loren, is that principles make you a knight, not just carrying a sword. The sword is refined over time, but principles do not change. That's how we lived—keep this in mind: skill is not everything."
Loren said: "I saw something strange, people without eyes, a red hand, bodies without heads, eyes seeing everywhere and in every corner."
Sir Haron, shocked by what he just heard, said: "Loren, did you sleep well? Do you realize what you just said?"
Loren replied in a strong voice: "I realize it, Sir Haron. It's impossible to see illusions with such accuracy; even their smell does not leave my nose, and their whispers do not leave my ears. I truly wish it were an illusion."
Sir Haron said: "I understand, but what you are saying is strange, very strange, yet familiar, very familiar indeed."
Sir Haron looked sharply and said: "Be careful not to say what you said to Tom out loud; they hear what you say."
Loren was shocked and asked in astonishment: "Who are they?"
Sir Haron replied: "You won't know them until you see them with your eyes, but even if you see them, you won't be able to comprehend what they are."
Loren laughed with difficulty and said: "Truly, you scare me, Sir Haron."
Sir Haron replied sharply and more seriously: "Loren, what you see is just a joke compared to what will appear if you follow those whispers."
After Sir Haron said these words, Loren felt his heart would stop; he sensed something hovering around him, and when he turned, he saw a thin sharp sword at its tip, made of something unknown.
Upon seeing the sword, the scene changed to see faceless faces, only strange eyes staring at him alone; everyone else poured all their gaze on him.
The whispers increased, and he felt their presence everywhere.
Without expressing or warning, Sir Haron returned the sword in his direction.
Sir Haron screamed, pushing Loren away; the sword approached at insane speed and the vision vanished.
As it disappeared, a different fear and terror appeared on Loren's face; what he saw was Sir Haron's head flying above him, scattering over his clothes.
End of Chapter