Coria: The Pencari Song (Book One)

Chapter I

Tiny fingers slid across the jagged, rough rocks that he sat upon. Dimly-lit candles were spread amongst the room on top of rugged-made wooden furniture. The air around them was stale, with a mixture of meat cooked over a makeshift fire. The young boy looked up at the ceiling; where moss and roots made their home, curling up like frozen robes. He stuck his tongue out, waiting for drops of water to come through. But nothing came down, leaving the kid to bring his tongue in and look at the familiar figure in front. The man in front had rugged clothing, dirtied and exposed to many elements in its life. Dark-colored with leather elbow and knee guards. White hair adorned his face, and a rough five o'clock shadow was barely seen through the fading light. The man turned, his lips curled upward, "You're awfully quiet, son. Something on your mind?"

The boy didn't respond, just sat there with his legs crisscrossed. His mouth tried to breathe from the stale air the room carried. The slight breeze coming from below the door was occupied by echoing footsteps; some more faded than others. Dark eyes blinked in acknowledgment of his silence before slowly getting up. "Papa, why do we live Underground?"

The man's face shifted, eyes became downcast before a soft exhale escaped his lips. "Son..." He started, trying to find the right words. His hand laid to rest on the bed frame. "We are hiding from monsters."

"Monsters?"

"Monsters" The father turned fully to his son, "Our ancestors started hiding here because of them. Monsters that take our loved ones; children like you." His eyes showed hints of a sorrowful twinkle. "Like your mother." A pause. He needed to be strong. "Only to never be seen again. We call them the Pencari." He slowly approached the fire with the cooked meat. With a wooden spoon, he adjusted the food's position to find any raw patches. "Tall monsters that look like us, but with pointed ears...red eyes, that bore beaked masks." His mind went back to a dark place; surrounded by figures with dark cloaks, and beaked masks that bore no bright colors. Gloves that reached out toward screaming figures trying to flee. One of the figures was more detailed, with bright eyes turning white and long black hair disheveled trying to get off its grip. 

"Why do they wear masks?"

His son's voice pulled him back. Blinking a couple of times, he lifted his face. His boy; unphased, didn't understand. He was too young when she was taken. Barely knew how to speak since that tragic moment, didn't have the comprehension of the horror that took place. 

"I don't know." The man saw the meat was done and picked it up with bronze tongs. Steam emitted from the whole thing, floating toward the man who winced in response. "Papa, why can't we kick their butts? Like Peter?"

"Peter?"

"Peter pan!" The boy raised a fist up, a huge smile spread across his chubby cheeks.

The man chuckled, he looked over at the wardrobe that held books. Some dirtier than others. "Reading the books we found from scavenging?" He cut the meat in half. "...If only, my boy." He wiped below his eyes. "They are magical beings, while we...are not."

The boy raised an eyebrow, leaning forward before noticing his father setting up the plates. Two slabs of meat for each of them. "Now eat River," The father set the plate down with a wooden fork beside it. River slumped his shoulders. "Beef again?" He whined.

"No complaining." The father sat down adjacent to him. It was silent between them, the crackling of the fire and wind kept them company. "Want to hear about Coria?"

River tilted his head, "What's that?"

"A hidden city, a place where humans live above ground....safe from the monsters that surround them."