Read The Midnight Breaker :: A new purpose.

Al stood, instant and stark, he knew, he knew his sister would never let any harm come to the prize possessions their late parents had bestowed upon them. He stood there silently, only wavering in body alone, heart still, once more, as still as the grave. Al walked, staring simmering holes into the wood of his hovel. A timber support approached in kind, Al twisted his arm back, hammering purple, bandaged knuckles into frayed coarse lumber. Again, he stuck, each moistened crunch followed by a pitched wailing scream, both pained emotionally and physically. Cries tore themselves up from his gut, all the way out his bruised neck. He punched and punched before Darton rose swiftly, snaking limbs under the distressed man’s heated ribs, the captain squeezed, embracing Al in a tightened hug.

“Stop, STOP! This won’t, this won’t bring her back… This doesn’t solve anything.” Darton stopped, before Al continued through choked little mews, “I wasn’t… I wasn’t there… She must have been so scared… and I couldn’t protect anyone… they’re all…” Albatross slid to his knees, battered hands coming to his trailing eyes, salty mist streaming from puffed scarred sockets. “You can’t think like that Al, you just can't, it’s not your fault, we… We all did our best… there was nothing more we could have done, I’m sorry.”

Al lifted his head slowly, following the captain’s words, he used his bandaged elbow to shakily wipe the grime, sweat, and tears that marred and glistened against his darkened skin. Two figures, Al and Darton, both stood, still and sullen in the low honey light of the warrior’s rickety hovel. Two pairs of eyes staring down, boring into sawdust covered floorboards, as the stillness deepened.

“Uh” Darton broke the ice wall “the mage just left… I made sure to thank them for you, so don’t worry, they headed off North towards the capital… weirdly they didn’t ask for anything in return… seemed like good people.” Darton finished kicking his boot lightly, while averting gaze. Al stood stiller, somehow a stature, no longer wavering on screaming knees, a cloud descended over the wounded warrior.

Flashes of purple, screams, a kaleidoscope of swirling streaming cool oceanic colors, mixed with Warlock’s vitriol. Bellowing roars, curdled from the creature’s gaping maw, rows upon rows of yellowed, orange, rotting teeth all lined its infinite maw. Just then the darkness was broken, the endless army of rotting death which marched upon their home was vanquished in a flash. From the rolling tide shone out, a levitating figure, long white beard flowing from their undulating robe, pale hands cascaded in brilliant godly light. A sight to behold, a true wizard, clearing the sky of darkness with one clap, simmering cursed flesh with a mere gaze, a human with the power of the gods, so wise and strong they feared nothing and protected everything. Al shot his glazed eyes over to the letter that still sat upon the table under the window, and he shook his head trying to clear the waking dreams from his muddled mind.

“Hey Dart” Al started monotone, “yeah?” the captain replied. “Could you go get me some milk please… It always calms me down” Al looked at Darton who replied swiftly “Yeah of course, I’ll be right back, don’t worry”.

Al watched as the young captain set down all his things, quickly pacing out the front door as he jogged to the cattle barn, untouched during the cursed attack days ago. Al stood, his own plan ruminating within his bruised mind, the young man pulled on a thick wool tunic, cinched at the waist with rope, he pulled on a short leather coat, scratched and full of holes. To complete the look Al wiggled on fresh wool pants and socks, tightening the laces on his work boots. A painful process to be sure, stiff arms were thrust through various holes, and battered fingers tried desperately to commit small complex acts, all while trying not to open any more bandaged wounds, Al stiffly dressed in a matter of seconds.

“Sorry Dart” Al whispered to himself, as he strapped the bands of his scabbard around his waist, pulling taught “but once I return, I’ll be able to protect everyone.” Al hobbled across the floor, thumping he flung the door open, waddling out into the street, clutching his sword handle as if it offered any sort of support, limping the warrior made his way up the muddy track, north towards the heart of the kingdom and away from his quaint village.

Days passed, maybe weeks, Albatross had no idea, he had no care either, the screaming of his joints and lungs overpowered the will of the mind. A line was drawn in the mud, following the half crawling half limping young man, a line from the boy’s scabbard, now reduced to a crutch, Al hung on the guard, draping his body across its form as he drug himself onwards with the added aid. Blood touched the boys’ lips, smacking softly, sandy and arid, Al was a veritable dry sponge at this rate, his cheeks pulled taught with malnourishment.

It had been so long since he had seen food, he could barely stop to drink from an un-investigated river or stream, for fear of losing those he loosely tracked. Shoe marks stayed shallow and delicate, Al hoped they weren’t too old, barely able to see, the boy drug himself forwards, using arms more than legs at this point. Onward, a day, and then another, clawing biting, he had no sense of time, except for the waning light, now dumping his limp form into a deluge of darkness, the pale beacon of moonlight burning itself against his back. Shadows moved and danced within Albatross’ swimming vision, the pale of his skin barely overpowered by the curtain of light from above, words and voices drifted in and out from the nothingness, yet he continued. A white light caught his attention, and then another, a scream, he could hear he could see, the boy froze, as he surmounted a bush, right there before him, laying in a bed of mushrooms was Avva, her body splayed out covered in red, seeping out from her limbs to his own.

Then she was gone, replaced by a massive bellowing beast, a wolf with too many eyes and too many limbs, speaking to him in some alien tongue, it wanted his heart, it took her, it took everyone, and then gone. Al cried out, growling like an animal himself, he pressed forwards, with renewed effort, dragging himself through spiked, crunching, underbrush. Blurred apparitions came back into his vision, subtle arrays of fog, a pillar of smoke just above the tree line ahead, and even an amber orb of burning passion. All wobbling and waving to his own thumping heartbeat. Evening light illuminated stark purples and blues, bathing the emerald leaves of bushes and brush, in dastardly monotone. Even the trunks of the towering oaks were merely visages of darkness. Cool light contrasted the burning yellows coming into view, Al swore he could see the licks of flame, trailing off the fingers of a still burning campfire. Dazed and confused, the warrior dragged his numb body, the world a spinning mass of color, he swore the voices of some mysterious strangers reached his ears, but just barely.

Mysterious voice “Did you know he was there?”, other mysterious voice “yeah, he’s been following us for a couple of days now, actually, he’s been following ever since we left that little town.” Other, other mysterious voice “don’t ya think it was a little dangerous to let him do that, let him just follow us like a lost puppy?” Other, mysterious voice “Oh please… look at him, I mean, he’s just a soldier boy, nothing to worry about, I don’t think the apparitions would send an assassin so… weak.” Other, other mysterious voice “true I suppose, still a dangerous stunt though.” Other mysterious voice “Ahhhhh lighten up a little, have some fun every once and a while will ya?”

Voices swam through the scarred boy's head, crushing vice like pressure pulling and prodding his skull, a pinch of pain traveling up the base of his neck. Dirt caked his nails, but yet he continued, through a foggy, milky haze, consuming both mind, body, and soul. Burning light gradually coming into view, the boy dragging and flopping his body over the precipice of the forest opening, collapsing face down in the dry dusty shale, producing an off red cloud of clay and stone. Gray clouds gradually settled around him, fingers going limp, as Al’s sword dropped next to him, a sight, he appeared like a corpse primed for the grave.