Fractured Past (A Talnarin Novel Book 1)

by D. E. Chapman

  The machines explode as the silver fire reaches them. The grating beeping of the machines finally stop. The little vial of glowing liquid splatters across the wall. The room burns, but I turn to face the door. There are more of Them in the hall. They saved me the trouble of finding them. Their faces twist in horror at the sight of the burning masses in the corner.

  My smile is cruel and malicious. It frightens them; it excites me. It encourages the creature inside me. Before they can move, the fire reaches for them. Three more monster go up in flames, and the screams harmonize. Now they understand. Now they know a fraction of my pain. I need more. The heat inside needs more. I plan to let it have it. It deserves it. It’s saving me. It’s comforting me. It’s loving me.

  I leave the prison. My next destination is their home. It’s made of wood. So flammable. The perfect fuel. I will watch it burn. I will watch them burn with it inside. Their screams will echo across the forest. The blaze will reach the sky. And I’ll watch. Satisfied. Then I will burn Him. Bit by bit. Not all at once like the Others. Slowly his skin will crisp. His eyes will be first. They will melt and pop. Like my eyes had. Then His ears. His hair. His legs. His arms. It will take days. I will revel in it all.

  I shove the memory away, disturbed. I can’t get like that again. I can’t lose myself to the rage and panic. I frantically try to calm my breaths. Push it away. Breathe slowly. I count my breaths in my head. I step backwards and slowly turn. Breathe in for five, hold for three, release for seven. Again. Breathe in for five, hold for three, release for seven. My heart calms and my breathing returns to normal.

  I look up and freeze. I was too far gone in my panic that I missed the approach of Them. Luckily, it’s only one. It’s a new one, one that was patrolling. This one looks at me in shock. The panic I had managed to calm a fraction, spikes back up. My insides warm once more. I fight the fear.

  “Are you alright? Are you lost? Do you need any help?” His shock melts away and he smiles almost kindly. It confuses me. “You are welcome at our camp. What’s your name?” Still I say nothing. “What town are you from or where are you going? We can help you.”

  He takes a small step closer and I jolt back. The panic surges and my hands glow. His eyes widen and he raises his hands in front of his chest. He begins again with a calmer tone, his face cautious. “You’re alright. No one here will hurt you. It’s okay. Just calm yourself. We can help you.”

  I’m uncontrollably and the heat continues to expand. Tears well in my eyes as I take another small step back. Suddenly, two more stand behind him. I cry out in fear and stumble backwards. I grip my bow so tight my hand goes numb. The glowing intensifies and sparks. The one in the front gestures for the other two to get back. I feel trapped, cornered. I don’t like it. They need to leave. They need to go away. I need to make them go away. Another bright flash and I startle.

  The sight of flames draws my attention. I snap my head up and watch as silver flames dance along the man’s sleeve. The fire spreads along his torso and leg. He cries out and drops to his knees. One of the males behind him reaches to put out the fire. The other slowly approaches me. Eyes wide, I look at the fallen one, then the one coming closer. I bolt as fast as my body can go. As I imagine Them chasing me, the panic and fear intensify. I strain to hear footsteps, but the rushing in my ears is too loud. I run until I collapse.

  By some miracle, I find a small cave at the bottom of a cliff face. I crawl inside and curl in on myself. I hurt him; I didn’t mean to.

  The heat and flames. It wasn’t a bizarre accident after all. It was me all along. I set that place on fire all that time ago. I’m dangerous, and I can’t control it.

  What if he had been human? What if I hurt a human? I can’t lose control. I have to stay away. No more villages. It’s too risky. That wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t think it could happen. I never thought it was me.

  The first time was so bizarre, I counted it as a freak accident. Or that one of Them did it. Not me though, never me. But it was me. I can’t control it, it’s like it controls me. What if it happens again? I don’t know how to control it, I don’t even know why it happens. I need to stay away from them. For good. No more visits to human towns. I don’t know if I’ll survive alone, but I have to, somehow.

  Chapter 10

  Roughly two months have passed.

  I find that as the time passes, I dream less and less. Along with the fading dreams are the fading memories of the past. They are still there, just locked further and further down as each day comes to a close. While a part of me rejoices their absence, it also causes me a small measure of anguish. The memories were a constant companion to me from the very start. From the beginning of my nightmare all that time ago, the life I desperately wished to return to was the only thing keeping me sane most days.

  All too soon even those cherished memories were tainted by them and what they did. From that moment on, they became nightmares. Just awful reminders of what can never be. Despite the pain that lashed me deep with every thought and memory, they comforted me in the strangest of ways. The bittersweet and tainted dreams gave me time, no matter how brief, with the ones I love.

  My wounds have long since healed, leaving nothing more than mares on my skin. My body is no longer hollow and brittle, sustenance finally filling my stomach each day. My muscles are now defined, honed from the constant walking and drawing of my bow. My mind is sharper and clearer, and my primary focus is revenge and survival.

  I haven’t had any incidents with the fire again. Not once have I felt the burning expanding in my chest. Nothing even sparked to life, though I tried. I wanted to see if I could control it, so I tried to summon that sensation again. I had no luck. I don’t know if that was a good thing or bad thing.

  Sometime in those two months I encountered a lone human hunter in the woods. At first, I was extremely wary and made a point of going the long way around to avoid discovery. Incidentally, he found me anyway. To this day, I’m still not entirely sure if he was hunting me or he merely stumbled across my path accidently. Either way, I was glad he did, despite the reservations I initially had. I had vowed in that cave never to get near a human again but I couldn’t help it. I was weak and lonely.

  He took one look at me and decided I need help, desperately. He was right of course. After the encounter with the Others, I had run in the opposite direction of Joult. It took some time to figure out exactly where I was and when I did, well, I was far from civilization. I had started walking in a daze, not really caring where as long as it was not back to Them. About five days or so later, I crossed paths with the hunter, Elan.

  He was from the village of Tolsi to the west. Every three months he left the village for a month-long hunting trip. He chatted a bit about his life and didn’t seem to mind that I refused to talk about mine. He never questioned my antics or my actions which relieved me to no end. Perhaps most surprising of all though, was he never looked at me any differently when he saw my ears or eyes. He was friendly and patient at all times.

  I’m not entirely sure how it happened, but next thing I knew, he was teaching me all I needed to know about hunting. He trained me for two weeks. He helped me hone my skills with the bow, gave me hints and tricks to increase my odds of success. He taught me how to track animals, even with the smallest of tracks. He instructed me on the proper way to skin and prepare my kills. He never forgot to show me how to cook it right and keep it longer. But the most important thing I learned from him, was that unconditional kindness does still exist in humans.

  These were my people I couldn’t stand anymore and it hurt. Elan changed that for me. His presence gave me hope again that some humans are still decent. A person’s demeanor is dependent of their circumstances or situation most times. Who am I to judge a human’s worth when I can’t even judge my own?

  I even told him about those children. He seemed sympathetic and genuine when I told him. I knew I made the right choice when confiding in him. I hadn’t inten
ded on visiting another village anytime soon and I couldn’t pass up this opportunity to help those kids. He assured me that he would send word to his village and demand help. He assured me they will be collected and cared for in his town. As soon as the letter was sent via warhla, a huge weight lifted from my thin shoulders. I thanked him repeatedly over the next few days.

  Eventually, we parted ways. He never asked for me to stay and I was glad for it. As much as I enjoyed the brief company and companionship, I always knew it wouldn’t last. Despite the relative ease, I felt in his presence, there was always that nagging sensation in the back of my mind reminding me of what I am capable of. I feared it just as I feared hurting him. I left to protect him and myself.

  I pull myself from my thoughts and look around. As I make my way through what I imagine was once a thriving and lively forest, I see short stumps spanning the distance instead of the trees that should be touching the sky. There is compacted dirt rather than green grass and weeds all along the forest floor. Where there should be thriving insects and birds, I hear silence. I smell the decay of the woods rather than the fresh smell of pine. It’s likely that a human village nearby is the cause of this destruction. Perhaps for resources needed for their village or perhaps they plan to sell the wood for market, but really, it could be for any number of reasons.

  My heart always aches to see the disaster or mistreatment of nature and wildlife at the hands of the humans. There have been a few places decimated beyond repair during my short travels. Luckily, this stretch of forest looks to already be on the mend. Having been sheltered in my village, only seeing the thriving forest beyond the villages borders, my first stumble across the destruction left me hollow.

  Since the start of my aimless journey, I have seen the many facets and sides to all life forms on this planet. Some good, some bad, but mostly a bit of both. Things are no longer black and white in my world, the truth was exposed many months ago, and everything I have since seen has only further drowned me in the gray.

  As for me, my decisions are no longer easy to make. The gray clouds my judgment and blurs the fine lines between right and wrong. With no one but myself to hold me accountable for the things I say and do, I now find myself unprepared for the world I had once craved to explore. With my spirits progressively dampening, I trudge deeper into the broken forest with only the small pack on my back to accompany me.

  I hear the faint bustle of civilization nearby and pause. How many days has it been since I’ve seen another human? How many days has it been since I’ve talked to another human other than myself? Faint hope unfurls in my chest, but I quickly stuff it down.

  Dammit Alanna, there is no guarantee that the life I hear is human. It could be a whole village of Them. And besides, even if it were humans, what would I say? ‘Oh hey, I’ll try not to murder you all so will you lend me a room? For free of course, seeing as I have no money or wares to barter. Thanks a bunch, good folk.’ Right, because that would go over so well.

  Craving just one look, I trudge further ahead, keeping to the shadows of the mid-morning sun. For every step I take, the bustle of life gets louder. The sounds bring about my melancholy that could, if I’m not careful, drag me back to the deepest recess of my mind. The one place I dare not tread and face the terrors of my past, like the coward I am.

  After another hundred paces or so, I see the flurry of activity. Humans, so ignorant of the horrors that awaits them outside their borders, move about their morning business. I watch with envy as perform such mundane tasks that secure their lively hood.

  An older man with a graying beard tends to his fields while four older children lend a hand. These children look no older than me and I can’t help but to think that if this were my village, they would be readying themselves for marriage soon. Moving my eyes away, I spot a young woman being presented a flower, a red rose by the looks of it, by a young man in tan suit. Judging by the state of their clothes, their families are well off.

  Not wanting to look upon the entitled, courting couple any longer, I eye the circles of houses centered around the hall. If this village is anything like my own, people have to opportunity to climb higher on the social ladder, and those high on the ladder can fall down. As people enter and leave their homes, I wonder what their stories are, how they got there.

  I’ll never know unless I go down there, and I have no desire to go and interact with the humans. I mean I desire to go but I can’t. I mean I could but bad things would happen. I think. Why am I still on about this? I can’t go period. I mean I can but…stop. Just stop Alanna. Shit. Why do I do this every time I see a village? Damnit.

  I return to watching the village. The humans still meander about their morning with their tasks. They look so mundane and so content. Even from here, from my spot in the shadows, I feel their contentment. There’s a sense of companionship and peace that I haven’t felt in who knows how long. Even as restless as I felt in my village, there were times I felt this peace and contentment for myself. It was intoxicating.

  My jealousy and rage taint the color in my vision. I know now that I was greedy for wanting more from my life. The dream of seeing the world and its wonders is now a curse I can’t rid myself of. With nothing left of the only home I had ever known, I have no other choice but to travel and escape. How I wish to go back and change my fate, how often I now dream of living in my small village until old age takes me. What I wouldn’t give for ordinary and boring if it meant that I could see my family again. I had never truly considered what my freedom could cost me. I never fathomed that I could lose all I hold dear. I have learned many harsh lessons in my short and bitter twenty-two years.

  These ignorant humans have no idea how lucky they are. These ignorant humans have no idea how unlucky they can be. They have no idea how fragile their contentment and peace is. They have no idea what fate befell my village. They have no idea what horrendous things were done to me. They go about their day so blissfully stupid. If only they knew what could happen to them in a blink of an eye. What would they do then? How would they react? Some sick, twisted part of me craves the answers to those questions. The darkest part of my soul wants them to experience what my village did, what I did. Their happiness grates under my skin, eating me alive. I want them to know our pain. What right do they have to this peace?

  No. No. NO. No more. That’s not me. Not really. Find yourself again Alanna. Don’t sink further. Don’t let the jealousy consume you. Fight. Fight it damnit, fight it.

  I stumble around and scramble away from the human village. I pushed myself to far, stayed too long. I need to put distance between myself and the bustling noise of civilization. With the loneliness sinking further, I march away. Tears streak down my cheeks. Hastily I swipe them away and mumble, “Useless tears.”

  Chapter 11

  It’s getting worse. The more I encounter human villages, the more bitter I become. Something about seeing them so ignorant is grating on my nerves. The jealousy escalates at an alarming rate, and my emotions are everywhere. It’s like my filter for my emotions is broken, I just don’t know how. I’d be fine one minute, the next I’m as angry as a berka whose cubs were stolen. The aggressive beast with a single horn are fierce protectors of their young. Then, in seconds I’m reigning in the fury and moving on like nothing happened.

  Maybe it’s the loneliness. Maybe it’s the ever-present despair I try to convince myself isn’t there. Maybe I need championship. Maybe I need help. The only ones capable of helping me at this point are the Others though. I loathe that fact almost as much as I loathe Them. I could head to Craforian. I could give it a chance, give Them a chance, to see what they can do for me. The thought makes me sick, but I’m so tired. Tired of running aimlessly, tired of being alone, tired of not being able to trust myself anymore. Besides, there is no guarantee that they will help. What Lori told me all that time ago may not be the most accurate representation of Craforian.

  Honestly, I think about this more than I’d like. Over th
e last two months, I’ve had my share of emotionally challenging days. Really dark, emotional moments.

  Its times like those where I fear myself. I have become so afraid of what I could do. Those bizarre silver flames have hurt and destroyed before. What will happen if it gets out of control again? I have tried to bring it forth myself with no luck. After the failed attempts, I thought about why that would be. The most logical thing I could come up with is that is stems from my emotions. Strong emotion, like rage or terror.

  Unfortunately, the only ones who may be able to help me control it, are the same ones who fuel it. If they’re accustomed to dealing with these powers, then they probably have preventive measures in place. I can always explain I have zero control over the flames too. Better to lose control around Them than in a human village or a forest.

  That’s all I would need, to burn down a village or a forest. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

  If I do head to Craforian, I can scope the place out for a few days, get a feel for the town. If something doesn’t feel right, I can take off. I wouldn’t have to return again. Besides, there’s no guarantee They would even help me once they figure out what I really am.

  I know I’m an aberration and a monster. But, I know I’m something else, too. I shouldn’t have survived what They did to me; They said no one ever did. What does that mean for me? What am I, and why am I different from the rest? They claimed I was special, but that’s just a bunch of shit. There’s nothing special about what I’ve become. I don’t even know how They made me this way either. All I know is that is hurt, terribly.

  I sigh. It’s been a long time since I thought about what I am, and it doesn’t cripple me like it once did. Something changed during my time on the run. I’m not sure I like it. Where is the overwhelming disgust and despair? Now, it’s like all my emotions are muted. Acceptance, even just a little, would do that I suppose. When I started to accept what I am, I can’t say.