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"Ouch!"
Asagai raised both arms over his head and waved them hysterically, desperately trying to shoo away the vicious faeries nibbling and tugging onto his hair.
A fae with a crimson glow attempted to poke his left eyeball with its hand, but the boy swiftly swatted it away with the back of his own. He ducked against a low-lying oak branch, all the while frantically avoiding all the poking and pulling and touching of the annoying little monsters.
The faeries of Vorare, with their bark-like skin and neon, flowing dresses, often took interest in grabbing human hair and using them as building materials for their nests — if they're trying to make any. Asagai cringed just by looking at their blank, beady eyes, which were usually the same colour of their dress's shade.
Asagai took a water weed, light blue flowers containing lots of moisture, which was just as long as the length of his hand to his elbow. Those herbs were quite helpful, and now that the boy thought about it, he recalled the old hag who taught him all about them, her face marred with wrinkles and grime as if she hadn't bathed for ages.
The young thief nearly landed face-first on a muddy puddle after accidentally tripping over a curved root, making him curse and wonder for a brief moment why he himself, a boy of fourteen summers, dared venture into the most treacherous forest in the entirety of Vorare.
An elf, only as tall as the water weeds that grew without discipline on the sides of the trees, carried a small match. Asagai surreptitiously watched it run towards him, its pointed red hat lightly brushing against his knee. The elf carefully stood on its tiptoes, lifting the flaming match until it nearly burned the boy's pants. Evasively, Asagai nudged the flightless critter away, telling it that he saw through its prank.
The sun's harsh rays penetrated his tanned skin, causing it to itch and blot. Even though century-old trees littered the woods and towered over everything else, they weren't enough to keep the heat at bay. Asagai muttered another curse as his foot got stuck in another overgrown root, having grown particularly tired of the repetitive, never-ending scene of trees and roots and elves — not to forget the faeries swarming around his hair like pesky locusts.
The cicadas scattered all over the forest of Woodsworth sang and kept his keen mind alert, but the constant ringing had soon turned out to be quite annoying after listening to it for hours and hours. Asagai's ears hurt as they rang shrilly from the accumulating heat and the lack of water.
Apparently, the weeds weren't enough. He should've brought more water and food, but he only had his rags for clothes and a pair of tunic pants, pockets filled with holes.
A bright green faerie grabbed a clump of his dark hair, the shade of dark brown, whom the other children referred to as similar to mud. Asagai finally withdrew his knife and pointed it to the fae's body — not that he planned on hurting them, since he heard from the folks that faeries were vengeful beings. The fae crossly spoke a couple of incoherent phrases before flying off, her three pairs of crystalline-like wings seemingly humming as she did so.
The bushes and wild herbs scathed his skin, making the boy hiss and curse once more. He had been trekking through the woods for more than half a day, wandering aimlessly, searching for some man the townsfolk knew as Emberchase.
Asagai stared pretentiously at the fifth mud puddle that came across his way, reminiscing the disheveled look of his mother as she lay helpless on the wooden bed back at their shambling straw hut. Physicians were an expensive rarity in their kingdom, and the boy just simply couldn't afford such hefty amount of gold to pay for their services.
He was one of the many thieves scattered across the pungent and almost merciless kingdom of Xaddercrux, where violence and malice daunted not. Asagai considered himself to be a professional at the said job — he succeeded every heist — but brought home no more than a couple of dented copper pennies. The older thieves, scarier and buffer, loved to target him and use him like a slave, robbing him of his own earn and beating him up for entertainment purposes later on.
Oh, how vividly it all played back in his mind. The numerous punches and kicks, the stabbing feeling in his gullet, the pounding of his chest and the helpless throbbing of his head, usually accompanied by his tears and soft cries.
Asagai visibly shuddered at the reoccurring memories, but he shook them off by wiping his palms glazed with sweat on both sides of his pants. He gulped loudly and raised his head higher, thinking of more effective methods to chase his fears away.
Never, not once had Asagai thought about how awfully wrong stealing was. It was his only means of survival — even though he rarely came out with an earn at all — since his mother had been relieved from duty as a seamstress because of her old age. Even if the hag often reprimanded his 'foolish' actions, Asagai still held this soft spot for her that wouldn't go away. Now, she was so heavily ill that getting up was a drastic problem, and the weight of it all rested upon his frail little shoulders.
Word had it that Woodsworth, with a more common name of 'Wayless Woods,' earned said name after the staggering number of naïve villagers and veteran adventurers alike who immediately perished after stepping into the perilous forest.
Dangerous and wild beasts roamed the area, and that they would indefinitely maul those fragile beings far weaker than them. Just the thought of such terrifying creatures possibly stalking him from the shadows sent violent shivers running down Asagai's spine.
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As the round ball of fire rolled and slowly receded into the horizon, Asagai began spotting strange human tracks. Instantly, his pace doubled in order to catch whoever made them.
The filth on the fresh dewy grass indicated the passing of the person, and the few droplets of blood suggested that the said person might've been injured — or perhaps in the process of hunting something down. Asagai found himself grinning as he crouched and examined the crimson liquid, placing a finger over it with no further hesitation.
Warm. The young boy perked up that very moment, his spirits lightening as he nearly whooped from the overflowing giddy in his chest. With a relieved chuckle, Asagai sprinted towards the direction of the tracks, leaving the messed-up grassy patch covered in a coppery stench, with high hopes that the one he was chasing after was Emberchase.
Time passed by, and the darkness finally beckoned the lovely stars out of their hiding, along with the bloodthirsty monsters that lurked in the shadows, relishing under night's protection. Despite the relentless growling of his stomach, Asagai refused to slow down and lose the tracks his prey made so carelessly. He abruptly stopped in the middle of a realization, just as the trail he had followed with such intensity died out.
What if those tracks he had followed were made on purpose — by those insecure partners-in-crime of his who wanted him gone for good? What if he was being led into some sort of wild goose chase? What if the person he followed just died on the very same spot Asagai had been standing on?
At that point, the boy's energy vanished as quickly as it came, and his senses froze, along with his heart, blood, nerves and organs. His mind ceased functioning for a few minutes, and Asagai just simply stood, unmoving like a rock, in the middle of nowhere, lost in the vast and deadly woods... alone.
A sudden rustle emerged from his side, and the startled Asagai screamed. It seemed like he wasn't alone after all.
The young thief voraciously drew his knife and scampered backwards, sweating profusely even though the night was sending cool breezes. The buttery knife kept on threatening to slip out of his grip, and even though he was shaking like a drunk old man addicted to booze, Asagai still managed to hoist his hands that felt like lead and pointed it to the unmoving bush. It produced the same unnerving sounds twice, making the boy flinch again and again.
A fat, cream-coloured rabbit emerged, shortly followed by a slightly smaller one. They hopped up and about innocently, and the petrified boy nearly dropped to a dead faint.
Asagai sighed in utter relief and proceeded to lower the knife, but not before his stomach rumbled angrily, interrupting his flitting thoughts of letting the harmless creatures go. The boy swallowed the starvation forming in his mouth that almost caused him to drool and cautiously placed a foot forward, inwardly recoiling at the cruel deed he was about to commit.
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It had never occurred to the young thief how impossibly hard creating a measly spark of fire was until now. Compared to killing a couple of bunnies — who were currently lying beside him, gullets ripped apart — building fire hurt.
His hands became scathed from the stones he had mashed together over and over, and the freezing winds weren't much help, either. The small twig tower he had built crumbled, and Asagai couldn't help but curse. He was afraid that his last resort would be eating the rabbit meat raw, and just the thought of it made his stomach churn in disgust. He regretted sending off that annoying elf earlier, and he regretted it badly.
The tips of the young boy's fingers had begun to numb and shake uncontrollably. The twig tower lay untouched in front of him, the pair of stones he failed to use just sitting close by. A coral snake walked past, stopping for a brief moment to check up on the weakened child.
All Asagai could do was curl up into a ball underneath a giant sycamore tree, his face buried intently on his knees. When the reptile saw that Asagai was still moving, it hurriedly scampered away, disappointed.
Asagai swore he saw the other thieves back in the kingdom take their chances at the said job, but if ever the lucky few succeeded, the malicious flames would still defy and attack the same hands who created them.
The people of Xaddercrux desperately valued fire, since it was a particularly cold kingdom, located near the freezing seas atop a steep mountain range. The boy often envied the way the sun's rays penetrated their Silver Castle, making it shimmer with pride — and casting a large shadow over their square, which agitated the folks. Those with the ability to create fire in a more efficient manner — or with efficient courage for that matter — would be hired by nobles and commoners alike and get rewarded with hefty sums of gold and jewels.
It would've been great if Asagai knew such a feat, then he wouldn't have to steal in order to survive. That was when the image of the vagabond Emberchase entered his mind and made him sigh in admiration. Oh, if only those tales were true...
Asagai's feet began to stiffen as they shook underneath his fragile straw sandals. He muttered another curse before hugging his quivering knees tighter, using the sound of the crickets as his lullaby.
The young boy's eyes hooded, and everything became eerily quiet. The crickets forgot their singsong, the insects and nocturnal animals scuffing around returned to their homes. Even the breeze began to yield, as if giving way to something.
Asagai thought he had already fallen asleep, until the deathly silence nearly deafened him, rendering his senses numb. His eyesight was already useless, and the boy didn't want to rely on his other four senses alone. Hastily, he stood up and placed his trusty knife in front of his chest, aiming for whatever may emerge — adorable bunny or not.
The enervating sound of crunching twigs made Asagai wince, and the stench of copper began to waft and flit restlessly, adding to his strong wave of nausea and flipping his stomach numerously. Now he was this close to hurling.
His heart hammered helplessly in his chest, trapped and restless. Instead of his self-promising not to be afraid, the young boy's fear reverberated from his lithe body, seemingly signalling whatever approaching monster to come closer.
A gigantic black paw emerged from the bushes, and the little thief ceased breathing. It was immediately followed by a pair of fierce and narrow, bright red iridescent irises, ruthless and numb to all that is good. The beast snarled at him, huge muzzle partnered with hundreds of jagged teeth, far bigger and longer than Asagai's puny knife. Its back protruded what appeared to be the pricks of a porcupine, still as stiff bamboo, uttering rattling noises as if the monster had eaten a live rattle snake.
The Raval breathed, the gnarly mist escaping from its mouth heading straight for Asagai's face, rotten and clearly in need of dental check-ups. At that moment, the boy's knees shook and gave way.
Asagai wanted to be brave — for the sake of his old hag in the very least — but he just couldn't. He told himself to stand his ground and fight back, but his head felt like a bag of soggy cotton, where everything had been warped and distorted. He was going to die, and that mere thought sent the boy's mind in complete jeopardy.
He was all alone... and the only chance to survive was for him to save himself.
The knife fell from Asagai's hands, seemingly lost in the vast oblivion filled with spikes, bad breath, and spiky teeth.
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Hello there, my dear friends! Thank you so much for reading chapter 1!
*virtual hug*
What do you think about Asagai? The entire chapter was about him wandering through Woodsworth, (and there wasn't any dialogue at all...) so I apologize if it seemed boring and all.
Anywho, If you liked this chapter, then please press that little star waiting for you!★
Bye bye...
awesomeSTG🔪