by Ryan Johnson
Valverno raised and lowered his eyebrows from Alfhild’s mention of “monster.” The one word that defined of what Valverno had become: betrayed his sister and the others and left them behind.
“What?” asked Alfhild.
“I heard that once before: about being a monster. I, in fact, become one when I fell into despair and drank from the Pool of Shadows. And the darkness that swirls in that Pool is swirling inside me right now. I may not have the black magic, but I do have the Shadow inside me right now. This is why I must be feeling a great emptiness right now. And there is no power in the Mortal Realm that can cure this cold darkness swirling inside me. I feel like the sun has dusked on me.”
“If the sun has dusked on you, why do you still live?” asked Alfhild.
Valverno remained silent.
“When the sun dusks one someone, it means that person has died in the Mortal Realm. I thought you were taught something like that.”
“Not exactly how I remember life and death,” replied Valverno.
“You shouldn’t give up on miracles. Being alive is a miracle. Those who surround you with smiles or frowns are miracles as well. You must believe more and doubt less.”
“I will believe in the power of miracles, if Marina is alive. Say, by some unexpected event, I somehow do save the Mortal Realm. Say I defeat Lusìvar and all his followers. Through some event, I regained all my power and defeated all the evils in the Mortal Realm; it won’t be the same, if the one person I love is dead while others are alive.
“I may save other people from death, but I won’t bring Marina back from the dead. And to make matters worse, the three kids will not see the light of day, yet alone the gods. I’ve learned all my life a child’s soul is only created when they draw their first breath in the Mortal Realm, but they haven’t. Marina can sleep in the Realm of the Gods for all time, but not the kids. Their little lives will never see the light of day or the Realm of the Gods where their mother dwells.
“And I know for a fact I will never become a father. If I had taken greater care of Marina and the others, I could have beaten Lusìvar already and be watching a sunset with Marina while our three young children could be running, pouting, and shouting all day long. But that dream will never become a reality.”
Valverno turned away and looked toward the waves swirling endlessly and the tide waving on the shore and sink his feet into the sand.
Alfhild stepped away from the rising tide and stood a distance away from the water sinking back to the sea. She shook her head and waved her hair down. “Don’t be so judgmental of the gods. They have abilities no mortals have, and you’re half god. There could be abilities that you are not aware of. It is not our abilities or powers that make our personalities; it’s our choices that make our personalities. And every choice will have a side effect that will affect the future to come.
“And maybe that is why you’re here: to relearn what it is to be a Pangaean. You spent so much time with other mortals of the Third Generation you completely forgotten those of the Second Generation: the Prosperous Age. If you only could remember what the Second Generation was like, then maybe you can regain what has been lost. Maybe those who died could be brought back from the dead, back to the mortal body that is.” Alfhild smiled, bow her head slightly, and turned to walk away. “Enjoy the night, Hybrid.”
Valverno blinked when Alfhild call her an unusual name, Hybrid.
Hybrid, huh, he thought.
Valverno nodded his head. And he looked away from the sea and walked back to the tent where he felt like he could get a goodnight’s sleep and awaken with a large encampment of surviving Pangaeans and see what the future may hold for him.
THE FEELING OF FATE
Valverno woke his eyes up the next day, when he heard a little buzz of a fly flying around his eyes. He woke up to the tent he spent his time sleeping under for five months. He smelt on the ground without remembering what happened of how he got there. He only remembered following Alfhild back to the tent and everything went blank after that.
Valverno shook his head and leaned himself upwards. He saw his kimono was off from his body and was hanging on a tall pillar. His bandages were off, and it showed his skin; a large healed scarred gap holed in dead center of his chest: the spot he was shot through.
Looking at the damage it felt, Valverno touched it with a hand and the scar seems to have curve inward by two inches deep into his ribcage slightly on the right ride of the ribcage’s center. That kind of scar would have killed the person.
And somehow Valverno survived the kill and he still breathes air. And Lusìvar seems to think Valverno is dead. Valverno aimlessly stared at the scar for several minutes before standing back up. His wing tilted him over to his right side and the top tip of his only wing hung over his left shoulder to give the balance he would need to stand on his feet.
Then he would walk over to grab his kimono that hung from the pillar. He grabbed it with two hands and he easily placed his arms through the sockets and put it on like a jacket. The sash placed around the kimono was already there attached to it; Valverno only tightened it around his waist, and he looked like a regular human who just got up from bed. After he was ready, he strolled out of the tent and went outside to see what was happening.
In a matter of seconds, there was hardly anyone outside. The sun’s dawn was just on the creak of the horizon, and no one seemed to be up. He saw a faint blue haze flickering from the early dawn. A handful of demihumans were awake and working as carpenters; they were cutting and shaping logs into many items like tabletops and chairs and little small doll figures. A few others were knitting and threading colorful tapestries by the thread.
Six children ran around Valverno carrying short sticks or rag dolls. Valverno stood still while the kids ran around him. He saw three girls and three boys were chasing each other playing with their dolls and pretend swords.
How young I was when I played with sticks with my foster brothers and dolls with my foster sisters, thought Valverno. He resumed walking and looked at the early female demihumans devoting their time into their work.
Each of them smiled and bowed their heads when Valverno passed them. Valverno bowed his head back to them; he remembered bowing to someone is a Pangaean tradition of greeting people. An ancient tradition he misses so much as with being with the people who made it happen.
He walked around and saw many brown tents hanging from pillars and no blankets of walls concealing of what could happen inside. Any stranger would walk straight in like an unwelcomed houseguest and cause a big ruckus. Lucky for them, Valverno didn’t plan on invading any person’s home.
For fifteen minutes, Valverno strolled through several tents with no walls or barriers and he trailed his feet softly. He didn’t want to wake anybody up still sleeping.
When he turned around a narrow corner, he saw Alfhild sitting down on a low table and chair. She was dressed in an emerald dress that hung from her shoulders and went down to her knees. Her hair was tied to the length of a long pony tail.
She held a small, marble pestle grinding and crushing herbs in a grey, granite mortar bowl. There were many stacks of dried herbs and small leaves that were cluttered around the Elf’s space and those herbs surrounded her and had no place to move her legs freely.
Valverno walked passed her and he didn’t want to distrust the Elf working so profoundly on her crushing. He thinks it is part of her training to gain the knowledge of healing, and he would be rudely interrupting her. He passed inches away from the stashed plants narrowly cornering a tent’s corner.
“Going somewhere?” she asked, just as standing right next to her but with the plants in the way.
“I didn’t want to bother you on your work,” answered Valverno.
“No one’s really bothering anyone, unless you want to do the bothering,” replied Alfhild. “And you’re up earlier than most people around
here. People usually sleep ‘til late morning, but a few wake up early enough to do some chores. As for me, I always wake up early to make the necessary medicine. Even though we are Pangaeans, we aren’t going to be the same civilization that used magic one Generation ago. We hand craft everything here, and there are only a few people here that can use magic: mostly the High Priest and the Elves who have more experience in magic than me.”
Alfhild placed the small pestle on the table and grabbed a little small white sheet beneath the tabletop. She laid down the white sheet flat on the table, and she dumped the crushed herbs on the sheet; the sheet was squared and three inches in diameter.
The herbs were placed in the center and Alfhild placed another white sheet over the sheet covered with the crushed herbs. She aligned the edges and she ushered a few words Valverno didn’t catch and the edges heated for a quick moment.
Then Alfhild grabbed the two sheets, which turned to be a small bag. “Three hundred down and thousands more to more,” she said, smiling. She tossed the small bag carrying herbs into a vase made of clay and grabbed a small stacks of dried leaves and a small pile of a mint leaf.
“I won’t keep watching you,” said Valverno, taking a step away from the working Elf.
“And what are you going to be doing besides just walking in circles through this encampment of tents?” asked Alfhild.
“I don’t know,” answered Valverno. “I’ve never been to this settlement before, and I don’t have a clear idea as what to do. I don’t know what comes next in my life.”
“Then allow me to show how you can: by showing you where we found you,” said Alfhild. Alfhild got up and moved around tight gaps between the lazily laid out plants stashed around the Elf’s working space. “If you be so kindly to follow me.” Alfhild walked passed the hybrid and away from him.
With nothing else better to do, Valverno followed after Alfhild to see where he was found.
It was about a full hour when Alfhild and Valverno left the settlement. It was some distance Alfhild and Valverno were putting between themselves and the settlement, and Valverno had thought he was found further than he thought he was. The two trailed over a low terrain of razor sharp mountains.
Valverno paid close attention to where the Pangaeans’ settlement was. It was in middle of a terrain of mountains surrounding the settlement and the seashore was just off from the distance. His walk with Alfhild was an easy one; a pathway had been carved long ago to easily transport carts. It trailed with a mountain range that shaped like sand dunes and the rock was sandstone. Stripes curved alongside the mountains’ walls. Several pillars of rock shaped like human figures (although not made by mortals) stood aside from the dune-shaped mountains. And there were valleys with little small bushes stretching as far as the eye could see.
This is such a terrain Valverno has never seen the likes before. Shimabellia had its own glory of nature, but Isla Maeli had its own glory of nature as well. It looked like the whole terrain was painted in different stripes of colors, in mostly red, orange, or a dull yellow.
Valverno pondered the terrain while following behind Alfhild. For the time, he felt there was a little light that was starting to flicker somewhere in the darkness that lurked inside him.
After a while, Alfhild and Valverno walked out of the terrain and the ground had become more sandy and flaky like quicksand; their feet easily sank into the ground. A small field of green grass grew by the prick.
They both climbed a little small hill of sand and looked to see the terrain of the sea stretching over the horizon.
Alfhild strolled down the hill and stopped near the shore the water came waving against her feet. “Where I stand is where Freyya and I found you. You were washed up to this shore, with a bleeding hole your chest through your back. And an open wound through your shoulder, and I had thought it had to be a wing cut off.
“You were bleeding to death. And with open wounds, you should have been squirting out mounds of red blood. However, little red droplets drooled out of your wounds. I used my knowledge of healing magic to close the open gaps to prevent you from losing more blood. For someone who lost a lot of blood, you should have died. You lost about ninety percent of your blood, and that should have killed you. Any mortal who lost ninety percent of their blood is set to die, but somehow you managed to survive.”
Valverno raised his eyebrows. He was supposed to be died, but he was alive. With two deep wounds, he should have died while drowning in the sea. He could not see a scientific reason of why he was still alive, if he lost nearly all his blood from his body. He walked over to where Alfhild was standing, and he caught his scent from the ground, despite the water that could wash away any scent.
“The only explanation as to why you survived is because you are a demigod,” said Alfhild. “The power of the divine may have prevented you from dying. It is believed you are half god, and that half divinity is going to prevent you from dying until you have fulfilled your duty.”
“My duty? My duty was to protect the people. And I have spent most the time as a conqueror than a liberator. And at this point, I don’t know what my duty is to. And I still don’t believe in the power of the divine. I am going to need to rethink my life and how to adapt to—” Valverno’s ears flickered when he heard footsteps trailing behind him and he turned his eyes to the source.
Halvdan was standing on the hill where Valverno and Alfhild descended from. Halvdan just stood staring at Valverno and Alfhild. “Don’t mind me,” he said. “I’m not following you. I just caught a strange scent that woke me up in an instant, and I followed it. I never expected it to be you. A hybrid with many strange scents I can’t tell which scent I’m following. And I wouldn’t want him to harm an Elf still in training.”
“Harm?” said Alfhild. “He hasn’t done any harm to me. I was just showing him where we found him. What could he possibly do to harm me?”
“What else?” asked Halvdan, sliding down the sandy hill. “An Elf’s immortality. We heard his life’s story. He is a seeker of power to destroy those he deems are unworthy of among the Mortal Realm. A greed for power. I’d say he’s a half-brother of the Shadow King. He sacrificed so much and for what? Only to have all the power he once had stolen from him, rendering completely useless like how our ancestors felt when they lost their home and their valuables.”
“He isn’t an evil being, Halvdan,” said Alfhild, walking up to him. “He has a confused, destroyed mind. He needs time to heal.”
“And why are you so defensive to a stranger who’s been with us for only a night?” demanded Halvdan. “All I’ve seen him do is walk around the camp. That isn’t enough to prove who he truly is: more of a zombie. He says he’s a demigod, but he hasn’t unleashed a divine power, which only a god can do. I can only smell him as a whole mortal than half mortal.”
“Why must you always be like this? Being so judgement to every mortal you lay eyes on. You’ve been like this since we were kids.”
“Because we are Pangaeans,” said Halvdan. “And we have the blood and the personalities of true Pangaeans. He isn’t a fully-fledge Pangaean, and I can smell it in his traits. He hasn’t been with us long. He hasn’t tended to any injured Pangaean. And worse yet he killed an entire civilization of Titans that caused one Titan to destroy the entire Pangaean civilization. All the blood that has been spilt from the Titans’ home to Pangaea and the one island are on HIS hands!”
“Halvdan, that’s enough!” shouted Alfhild.
“No, he’s right!” shouted Valverno, walking straight between Alfhild and Halvdan. He placed himself between the two.
“But Demigod, you are…”
“I don’t need protecting, Alfhild,” interrupted Valverno. “I can speak for myself, but he is right. I do have some vague images and extorted voices, but I am remembering it is I destroyed the Titans and caused Lusìvar to retaliate of what I’ve done to his homeland. He has every righ
t to be suspicious of me.”
Alfhild shook her head softly. “Valverno, you should not be—”
“I must be held accountable for what I’ve done. And I can’t undo what’s been done nor bring the dead back to life. If I wanted to the place that holds the most happiness, I would walk straight to a graveyard,” said Valverno.
“A graveyard? You are in not a graveyard, hybrid; you are in a settlement where all the last of the Pangaeans live.” Halvdan gave a rudely “tsk” sound in response to Valverno’s commit. “I still don’t see why you should even be here.”
“I think it is because he has forgotten what is means to be a Pangaean,” said Alfhild. “If he can only spend some time with us, then maybe he can regain what’s been lost to him.”
“I doubt it. If he does spend time with us, how much time will the humans suffer at the hands of Lusìvar?” asked Halvdan.
Valverno sighed with remorse.
“You see, Elf? If he does spend his time with us, what could he get back? He lost his wife. He lost all his mortal, magic power. He lost the trust of the people he swore to protect, and his half-sister, whom I am to think should be the demigod, should have chosen, not him. From what I’ve heard from his story, the daughter of Celestreá la Mùne should have been the mortal to be the demigod.
“And from her talents, she has purity and a true heart of a true Pangaean. Why should any mortal follow a fallen hybrid of a conflicted twilight when his sister of purity should be the one?”
Valverno nodded and walked away. “You’re right, Halvdan; Sora should be the one to lead the people of the Third Generation of Living Life to a bright future. The gods should have chosen her. But they really didn’t chose; it was more they asked. They asked me to be their demigod, and I should have said no. And I, being her elder brother I always have been, could have trained her to be the capable warrior she is now, and she could have been the one to kill the Shadow King. My life has a lot regrets that. If I die now, I won’t be able to look in my mother’s eyes and say how much of a complete failure I am and that I—”
