The Chronicles of Outsider: Humble Beginnings

by Justin Wayne

  Chapter Thirty Two: Awakening

  Voices murmured all about him up and down like the tide. One second he could almost understand their words and wanted sorely to answer them, and the next they were on the other side of the world. The constant buzzing grew in intensity then the world shook as if it had fallen.

  All talking faded away and he was left in his solace once more.

  Outsider sat up from his reverie and found the room before him the exact same yet opposite. Everything within was recognizable; from the crates of supplies to the broken straw-stuffed bed he slept in each night. But it was all wrong.

  The color palette seemed dingy and washed out to a grayscale that seemed somehow less substantial physically. He feared he would fall through the floor if he stepped on it.

  That’s when he realized he couldn’t reach the floor if he had tried. He was standing on the ceiling with everything below him. The entire world was literally upside down; quite fitting, he thought, for how his life had been twisted into a cruel joke of an existence.

  Slowly and fearfully as he expected gravity to take hold at any second, he made his way through the open doorway and, to his immense surprise, walked straight up the sheer wall to the antechamber; parallel to the floor.

  He peaked the wall and came up onto the floor now, seemingly back to normal, but found he could just as easily walk up a wall if he so chose. He did just that and walked across the wall sideways and stuck out from it like a lantern hung too far. He passed the regulars of the house who noticed nothing strange about him.

  In fact, they didn’t notice him at all.

  He was used to being ignored as if ghosting his way through but this time was different. It seemed too real; too honest. When he was purposely avoided he could sense it by their body language and lack of eye movement. But now they were perfectly natural in their routine and engaged each other regularly.

  He watched a small group of dark elves converse as they walked toward him, completely oblivious to his existence, and straight into him. Outsider closed his eyes as he expected to be knocked from the wall but felt nothing. He opened them and saw he was still there, defying the laws of physics; the dark elves now behind him.

  Outsider’s eyebrow curved into an arch and he reached out for the passerby only for his hand to pass through without resistance. He stared at the man in shock, mouth agape, but noticed he seemed no different than anyone else. However when he stared down at his own hand he saw it had dissipated like smoke and was gradually reforming to its shape.

  His eyes quickly roamed the room for someone to talk to; someone to ask what was going on with him, but no one paid him any heed even as he screamed at the top of his lungs. He scanned the next level for anyone who may see him and inwardly hoped the priestesses were capable of such a thing with their magic.

  But his knees went slack as he ascended the wall to the chapel doors and he fell forward.

  He saw himself walking the halls quickly; with purpose, fully armed and dressed for combat. How angry he seemed despite the fact his face was empty of emotion and devoid of expression; for everything about him radiated such turmoil it was tangible. His silent footfalls padded down the hall then without him.

  Weak and fearing for his mind, Outsider followed himself down the far left hall and through a series of chambers until he was within one of the towers. Together they ascended the winding staircase for several minutes until they reached the top floor.

  Without a knock Outsider threw open the door so hard it bounced off the wall behind it with a loud clamor. Dren flinched at the sound and dropped his bottle of liquor which shattered and splashed across his bare feet. The drunken fighter growled angrily and threw up his hands in exasperation.

  “What the hell are you doing!?” He stepped forward threateningly and balled his hands into fists. “That was my last drop, boy! You best find yourself cleared out of here before I get a hold of you.”

  Outsider sidled into the room past himself and watched the scene; realizing what this was.

  “I don’t think so.” the physical Outsider replied and Dren bridled at the refusal.

  “What did you just say?” he asked quietly and stepped into the middle of the room. “Are you back-talking me, boy?”

  Both Outsiders watched him in silence; both formulating a course of action though one of them already knew the turn of events. Dren came forward again and fixed him with a furious scowl.

  “You’re going to pay for this, boy. Get yourself downstairs to your room now, and don’t you dare leave it till I say so. You’re going to get the beating of your life. I have half a mind to flog you right now.”

  Outsider smiled and laughed darkly. “Oh I wish you would.”

  Dren’s frown vanished and was replaced with shock; even fear. But he quickly recovered and set his jaw angrily. “What’re you going to do, boy? You here to finally hold up to your promise?”

  Outsider shrugged without blinking. “It doesn’t matter anymore what I do. All I know is I’m not taking orders from you or anyone else here.”

  Dren crossed his arms and his arms flexed with the strain of his fists tightening. “Is that right?” He turned around and strode over to his desk where an adamantine-barbed whip lay. He picked up the leather wrapped handle and walked back to the insubordinate before him. The whip dragged across the floor with a light scraping sound like a snake hiss.

  He held the weapon up in salute. “Then here’s to your memory.” He nodded his head. “No one will remember you, half-blood.”

  Then the whip lashed out with a loud crack.

  Outsider stood stock still with one arm outstretched; the whip wrapped around his forearm and hooked against his bracer. Dren’s mouth fell open and his eyes grew wide until they seemed ready to fall out of their sockets. Outsider returned the stare unflinchingly and coldly met his eyes with indifference. Dren tugged against the lash but might as well have been pulling a bull.

  Outsider refused to budge and held the whip fast with one arm while his other came down quickly; sending his dagger from its sheath and into his hand. Then he spun forward with his arm still raised; wrapping the whip around it fully until there was none left for Dren to hold onto, and closed the distance.

  Dren backed away toward the rear wall where a tall stained glass window stood at the top of the tower he called home. His feet crunched on the glass of his bottle and soaked up the alcohol into the new cuts. He cursed and jumped back from the pain and hit the window which cracked; splintering around him.

  Outsider strode forward calmly.

  Dren watched him and looked side to side. “Are you going to kill me, boy?” He made a move to the side but stopped as he saw Outsider’s knife-hand react accordingly. He took his last shot at the boy. “You think you have what it takes to kill me? Do it. You’ve killed plenty of people at the say of others, but will you do it for your own pleasure?”

  This brought him up short.

  Outsider stopped his progress and paused to consider what he was doing. The incorporeal Outsider did likewise from the ceiling where he watched it play out. Doubts sprung up in his mind but he shook them away with the thought of his parents’ death.

  “You had my parents caught and murdered, Dren.” he recounted slowly and deliberately. “They trusted you to keep your word but you sold them out. Led a party right to them or so you’ve told me a thousand times. You had them executed; him in the Arena where you forged my life, and her in public decapitation.

  “You even had her head brought to me in my sleep, Dren. You did.” He continued forward with every word growing in intensity without even raising his voice. “You laughed about it and watched me cry; all because a forest elf loved a dark elf.” He gripped him by the collar and pressed him against the window with increasing pressure. He watched the glass crack in a spider webbing of fractures behind Dren’s back. “I was a child, Dren. What you did was evil and wrong and I can never forgive you for what you’ve done.”

  He slipped his knif
e back in its sheath and turned his back on him. Dren reached beneath his leg and pulled a knife from his boot.

  “Nor could I forgive myself if I left you to do it to someone else.”

  Outsider spun around in a pivot so quickly the room around him blurred and he caught only a few frames of the next second. The ghostly one however watched it all intently.

  The whip around his arm unwound mid-spin and hurtled out and around Dren’s throat, with the barb jutting into his jugular and out the side of his neck at an extreme angle. Blood pulsed down his front as he squirmed and gurgled for breath. He thrashed about and pressed against the window.

  Dren’s eyes bulged and his face paled from blood loss and fear as Outsider towered over him; no longer a boy, he realized. And with the first real look of hate from those young eyes, he was sent through the window with a kick to the chest.

  The glass shattered into a scintillating shower of sparks that rained down the several hundred feet to the ground; Dren among them grasping out wildly and kicking. They seemed to hang there in the air a moment then rushed back to full speed.

  Outsider leaned out the window to watch him hit.

  The world behind him warped once more and shivered. The walls fluttered like cloth in the wind and grew then shrunk alarmingly. The lower levels began to quiver and shake violently until the tower began to fall apart brick by brick. Impossibly loud; the destruction turned everything silent as the two Outsiders melted into one by a relentless pull.

  Body and soul reunited; everything seemed so much clearer. With renewed clarity and a better understanding of the actions that had made him who he was, he leapt from the window and away from the collapsing tower.

  He plummeted to the street in the unbreakable silence with humongous chunks of stone all around him. The wind rushed past his face and ruffled his clothing and hair; clothes now more worn and weathered with hair cropped much shorter to a few inches. He was no longer his past self and reclaimed who he was just before the ground rose up and met him.

  The universe was black.

  He laid there, silent and still, unsure if he was dead or alive, and waited for pain to come. He measured his breathing and heartrate; blinking slowly and looking around without moving his head. What may have been ten seconds or ten hours passed and he sat up.

  He looked to the left and right and felt the urge to cry; something he had long ago forgotten and buried. His eyes swam as he rose unsteadily to his feet and beheld the warm glow to his left:

  A farm.

  A farm with golden sheets of wheat rustling in the breeze throughout the pasture, and a little house planted on a hill not far off in the background. Trees surrounded the little valley and hid it from sight; protected and safe. He could smell the sweet aroma of honey in the air and his legs grew weak.

  A pair of figures stood with arms locked on a hillock in the distance just on the horizon line with the sun behind them; casting their features in shadow. He could see his mother’s golden hair flowing in the wind and his father’s black skin standing in contrast to it. A shorter figure stood beside them with long flowing white hair and similarly dark skin; Saleane. Her song filtered through the darkness from the light. He took an unconscious step forward and reached out for them.

  As he did he heard something else; something to the right.

  He turned his head the other way and found only the black abyss staring back at him. But the voices that had tried to reach him so many times before were now audible. They were cries of alarm and warning; arguing and calling out for help. He thought he recognized a few of them.

  He looked back over his shoulder at his parents and their home reassuringly to check they were still there, then cautiously stepped closer to the darkness until he could make out some of their words.

  “..he’s fading fast! Merlon I need more anubiroot, Thom get more water boiling..quickly now!”

  “What should I do?”

  “Just give me some space; keep everyone away from here.”

  “Are you sure there’s nothing I can—“

  “Just do what I tell you! Cuke I need some more healing from you.”

  “I’ll do what I can, I’m afraid I don’t have much energy left now.”

  “I know you’ve been through a lot, but I need you to hold on. We’re going to lose him without you..”

  Outsider took another step closer, he was sure he recognized those voices.

  “I got a pulse!”

  He looked back at his parents and saw the sun behind them beginning to set. He wanted to run back to them and stay there forever. To finally know their names and even his own. To see their faces and know a parent’s love and the love one could find only with someone who truly understood him as Saleane did.

  But he also felt a different love within himself; closer to that of a parent than a child; a responsibility.

  “He’s going under again! Cuke!”

  “I can’t! That’s all I’ve got left!”

  “No! No not now, not after everything!”

  “Hang in there damn you!”

  “What’s happened?”

  “Is he dead?”

  “Get out of the way now! Give me so room!”

  “That’s it!”

  Outsider sat up with a gasp and inhaled deeply like he had never breathed before. His eyes flicked open and he had never seen a more beautiful sight than the sunrise before him now.

  Several faces around him lit up with adulation and smiles broke all around. He looked at them all; Merlon, Thom, Cuke, Natalia, and a woman he didn’t recognize sitting just beside him.

  He looked down then and realized he was steaming. He raised an eyebrow and they all looked to Cuke who shrugged sheepishly and blushed. “You were dying again so I shocked you.” He held up his hairy hands which were similarly steaming and wiggled his fingers.

  Outsider shook his head and tried to speak but couldn’t form any words. He gestured to his mouth feebly and found all his muscles weak. Just sitting up proved too much and he laid back down on the cool grass beneath him. A waterskin was held to his lips and it trickled down his throat.

  “Ye’ve been asleep a long time elf.” Merlon huffed and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. “Ye got me sweatin’ out me eyes!”

  Thom smiled and gripped his shoulder. “We found Merlon and Cuke yesterday, perfectly healthy if not a little soft around the edges.”

  Outsider smiled and shook his head again. “What..happened?” he croaked barely a whisper and was given more water.

  Natalia crouched beside him and gripped his hand. “After your fight with Blaine on the roof you were poisoned and passed out from losing too much blood. We,” she motioned to the woman beside her and a few others sitting by a campfire a few feet away. “Watched the whole thing from afar; keeping an eye on your progress. With the guards in such poor shape thanks to you we were able to break in and get you two out of the city.”

  Outsider nodded as he remembered the battle and the oil-like poison on Blaine’s blades. He glanced down at Natalia’s hand gripping his and frowned. She noticed and pulled away.

  “It’s not you, it’s the poison. I still can’t feel a thing.” He sighed and closed his eyes.

  “Could be worse,” Cuke added. “You could be dead or completely comatose like it was supposed to do. I found one of the dirks covered in the stuff and checked it out. It’s made of some nasty stuff and I’m shocked you’re alive at all.”

  “Speakin’ of which,” Merlon interrupted and narrowed his eyes. “What happened to the little sneak? I’d like to get me hands on that Blaine fella’ and show ‘em the way a real dwarf fights I would.”

  Outsider’s eyes widened and he looked to Thom who shrugged. “I was busy trying to get you to stop bleeding. When they showed up and I had time to breathe, he was already missing.”

  “Well either way, he’s gone now and you’re alive.” Natalia interjected. “This is my sister, Bryn, the mastermind behind your escape.”

  “
And a thumpin’ good nurse too.” Merlon added gratefully. “She and Cuke kept you alive this whole time.”

  “Yes,” Bryn added then with a shy smile. “But I promise you it wasn’t this bad the first week.”

  “Wait, first week? How long have I been out?” Outsider asked and looked about the group slowly; too tired to move any faster.

  “Eleven days now.” Thom answered and lowered his gaze. “We’re just outside Journ now but we decided to wait for you to wake up first.”

  “Why?”

  Cuke intercepted for the hobbit then. “Because I was right, and it’s a demon; an infuriated demon.” he clarified. “A demon named Cancer, who feeds off pain and suffering. And he got quite a bit of it off people all over the place; that’s why he kidnapped everyone to get Merlon so tore up inside.”

  “Just to cause him pain and feed off it?”

  “Well, that, and to get him to stop making religious symbols made of silver. Demons can’t stand ‘em.” Cuke elaborated and all eyes were on Merlon.

  “What’re ye’ all lookin’ at me for?” he asked very blustered and stood with his arms crossed over his barrel-shaped chest.

  “They want to know what you want to do about it.” Outsider guessed and smiled reassuringly. “We’re with you, Merlon, just give me a day to recover.”

  The others all turned to him then, surprisingly angry and shouting. “A day!”

  “Just one stinking day!”

  “Who does he think he is?”

  Outsider shrugged weakly and tried to placate them. “Fine, two days.”

  “Three.” Merlon countered and everyone went quiet. “I need ye’ at tip top shape if we’re to be fightin’ a demon; they aint no stroll through the meadow I tell ye’.” He turned to the cleric then. “I’ll be needin’ ye’ as well, Cuke. Your priestly magic oughta hurt ‘em plenty eh?”

  “Of course.” Cuke acknowledged with little resolve. He wasn’t one to go into a fight against unknown odds but he wouldn’t let them go on without him either. “I’ll start preparing spells right away now that Outsider’s stabilized.”

  He stood and went off at once for his huge pack. The others similarly took their leave with promises of catching him up on events later to give Outsider time to rest. Bryn stayed behind to make sure he got enough to drink and offered him some more water.

  “Thank you but if I drink any more I fear my eyeballs will begin to float. Though I am curious, why did you leave Cain Sander with us?”

  She fell silent a moment and wringed her hands together. “I took over my pa’s business twenty years ago; when the city was still wholesome.” Her eyes tightened as she smiled at the memory, but soon it faded to a somber façade. “But ever since then I’ve watched it decline until it became the tainted slum it is now. Natalia came to me as no more than a child and I knew I had to take her in, to get her away from there.

  “But by the time she was old enough, she fell in with the wrong crowd and became trapped there. I tried to get her debts paid but she refused and even sent money back to me. But when she showed up on my doorstep with news of Six Feet Under’s destruction…I knew it was time.”

  He watched her face as it expressed several emotions in the span of a few seconds; joy, pain, fear, regret. He nodded and empathized. She looked up then and saw him studying her.

  Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and stood.

  “Your wounds were cleaned and sewn over a week ago, so with Cuke’s magic on top of that, they’re just scars now; so focus on getting your sleep and plenty of food first, then you can worry about fighting demons. Okay?” Bryn established and bade him to sleep. “Oh, by the way, Natalia wants to apologize for how she reacted before. If you could be gentle on her..” She left it at that and departed for the fire to warm herself.

  He stopped her with a brief call. “Where’s Jiff?”

  “He’s over with the other horses in a small thicket where they can graze.”

  He nodded and laid his head back down as she walked away.

  Outsider took the time to eat some hot stew and found it nearly impossible to keep down so he instead had some bread dipped in the broth; finding it easier to manage. Then content, he rolled over and easily fell into his waking dreams; finding his conscience clearer now that he had relived his worst days and pains.