Arthus's Narration from a Memory

Like a starving predator fleeting across the glacial poles of the North, the air tore my bitter cold skin, coated by a petrifying chill in every touch. My body shivered weakly, both from fear and starvation. Whenever I ignored my growling stomach, I would realize it was actually the fear that made my body tremble.

Luck must have had a sudden change of heart. Yes, I was able to flee from the King, steal his dagger but in return? What? Was it even worth it?

It came to a point that I even considered dying as a solution. A cheap escape from the sufferings I was going through and the thousand more to come. Life wasn't forgiving, cruel to every being regardless of age.

The gloomy forest had been a prison ─ a living hell, I must admit. Trapped in there for five, six? I couldn't remember the count of days. Not a single piece of food grazed my tongue; just the flavorless blocks of ice I would form with my magic. The taste left my mouth dry and numb.

Peculiar plants that had nurtured into bizarre forms strewn the area in every direction. There was even a thicket that had eyes. Yes, big, round, eyes that shimmered with red.

It felt like the trees were glaring at me behind their spread-out branches and lifeless barks. I did my best to avoid the creatures but I was cornered for good.

"Beauteous fresh meat! A child of the Merlins for ours to eat."

"Aye! But what absurdity is this? In his flimsy hands is the cursed dagger of the lost legions."

"Shut your whining! Cursed or not, be grateful that dinner is served on our plates."

Every now and then, the nasty, faint whispers would resonate from the dark crooks, submerging my ears in paranoia that almost ripped me off from what was left of my sanity.

Dismissing my hesitation, I would always turn towards the other direction.

Crazier than a madman in shambles, I was running round and round the thick, endless labyrinth with no hope of escaping. Curses flew as I blunder upon the rocks on the rocky path. Only did stumbling across the singular thought of vengeance kept me breathing ─ alive at the very least.

Overwhelming masses of monsters lurked the place. Some of which I was aware, existed only in the bedtime tales that Mother used to tell me. Farcryes, corpseweeds, and creatures I knew not the name of. The fact that the vile populace was comprised mostly of savage trolls intensified my already haunting fears. 

All of them were ready to feast upon a lone child single-handedly equipped with a stolen dagger.

I hid behind a large willow tree whose trunk was scarred with thorn-laden vines. Cupping my hands over my ears, tears began to ripple in my eyes.

I mustn't cry. I kept encouraging telling myself. The evil would only manifest my fears, and I'd succumb to an eternity of misery.

Yet, I couldn't help it. Moments later, I felt the warm thin streams trickle down my cheeks. At the same time, the creatures of the dark slowly inched closer. Their hisses were becoming louder and manic. All I could do was shut my eyes tight, knowing the end was near.

My chest started to constrict, a suffocating pang chewed off my every breath. I wanted to convince myself it was caused by the fear. But I knew I was wrong. It was the guilt and shame. To die in there was accepting the truth that I'd never be able to avenge my family and friends.

It was a difficult reality to grasp yet there was not any other.

"Call me, child."

My eyes darted around, lifting me to my full consciousness. Who just spoke? The voice was calm like a thousand evening breezes, which kind of brought me back to Mergrande. I was disappointed for there was none. 

My mind must have been playing tricks with me. The atmosphere of the place could easily tear away your sanity. The only things I saw were hundreds of violent, scarlet eyes glowering at me. Their hungry glares speared through the blackness of the forest.

The owners of those eyes were famished, eager to devour my flesh and drink of my blood. However, they appeared reluctant, undoubtedly afraid of the voice.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" I bellowed to the night, squeezing the dagger in front of me with both hands. The monsters sneered in scorn. I heaved a shallow sigh. It was foolish to believe somebody would answer.

"Summon me and I will save you from this evil," she replies, her voice was of good nature but the tranquil tone seemed to hide something.

"How?"

"Simply speak my name and release I will be released from these bindings."

I then remarked at the King's dagger, which was now glowing with a weak light, beating like a pulse. For a moment, I considered dropping it, believing it was cursed. But in my present situation, it might only be the thing that could bail me out of this ill plight.

"Spill your name then."

"Serrahfina Maledimortis."

Serrahfina. 'Beautiful name', I thought. My lips uttered her name. The words leaked from my mouth crystal clearly than flowing water. It mesmerized me deeper than the songs of the Naga, as if it was enchanted ─ perhaps cursed.

There was an explosion of blinding, white light which made me stagger aside. All I saw was gray as my vision went blank for some fleeting seconds. When the blaze of light subsided, I was dumbfounded to see a beautiful maiden directing a finely-smithed silver rapier at my chest.

I studied her in an instant. I must confess that back then, even as a child, young and innocent at heart, I couldn't help but admire her striking features.

The first thing which caught my interest was her wild, gray eyes that reflected a fierce tempest. Those two little balls of steel perfectly complimented her long, snowy hair that interlaced into delicate curls at the end.

She was wearing a knight's armor plated with obsidian platinum but elegantly designed to match her feminine physique. She owned a pair of swords fitted into two scabbards ─ one rested on her back, the other was on her side.

"Now, tell me where master Lazaddon is, mortal," she hissed as she shoved the tip of the rapier closer to my heart. The kindness in her voice earlier ago was gone─replaced by malice.

"I do not know."

"Lies!" she shrieks in high pitch that nearly wrecked my eardrums. "Where is he? Why am I in the hands of such a filthy brat?"

The way she looked at me during the moment, I knew for sure that the knowledge about the situation which I hold was what kept her from slaying me.

"I stole his dagger."

She pulled the rapier away from chest for a second, stared at me with a vacant face and then laughed mordantly. "Are you trying to ridicule me, child? You? Robbing me away from Lazaddon?"

The way she let the question loose made me burn with uncontrolled anger. How could she throw such insults when she wasn't there to witness the truth?
I stood up and approached her. Looking up indignantly for a moment, I then slapped the words into her face with cold tone, "What you see is what you should believe, lady."

'I'm dead'. I realized what I said was a complete mistake, besides it being rude. Surprisingly, she was taken aback by my actions. She sheathed her sword while sighing deeply before she spoke, "Hear me. I'm not good at playing games. Therefore, if you wish to live, speak nothing but the truth."

"You have already heard the half of it."

"And the other half?"

"─Is with Lazaddon. That is, if you still refuse to believe me."

Her expression morphed into an even colder state. I was finding it difficult to meet her gaze─it was like she was taking a peek inside of me.

Any time soon, a rapier probably would have dug through my chest. But nothing did. Instead, Serrahfina vanished into dust. I was left alone with the black, lifeless dagger in my hands.

Abandoned again and I had to survive on my own.

| ~ |

Hi! So here's a new chapter for you people.

Watch out for the next update on Friday next week! Or if I'm inspired, it might come out earlier.

How do you think did Arthus survived? Specially that Serrah was ignoring him?

Don't forget to vote as it will keep me motivated :) Cheers!