(A/N)
Hey guys, I think it is time for a Q&A because this story is almost reaching it's one year of existence. If there is anything that you want to ask me, please leave a comment (please question me because if there are only a few questions the Q&A might never happen).
I'll receive questions until July 27th.
And always, thank you for loving this fanfic!
It was a world of blue, nothing except the quiet whispers and faint apparitions floating by. And a figure in a long dark hood that had flames instead of a head was floating in the middle of it, his hands clasped as if he was praying to divine entities.
The figure was the Devourer of Souls.
His clasped hands were engulfed in dark smoke, splitting into many different directions like chains trying to hold multiple things together.
Suddenly, a red apparition started to form in front of him.
The Devourer of Souls stared at the red apparition when it started to become clear enough to make out what it was.
At first, the Devourer of Souls thought that it was the boy that he'd talked to yesterday. But soon, he noticed that the 'person' in front of him wasn't the boy.
This 'person' had red eyes, instead of green. And, he had multiple burn marks on his body, some burnt through the clothes that he was wearing, leaving behind holes that showed his burnt skin. And some burns were so severe that they showed the part of darkened bone underneath.
"The Devourer of Souls," the 'person' said mockingly, "it's nice to see you."
"Who are you?" the Devourer of Souls asked. "You look like the boy, but you're not him."
"Let's just say I'm his evil personality that is imprisoned in the deepest depths of his soul." His face contorted into an insanity-filled grin when he said that.
"Are you the entity that's trying to control this orb?"
"Yes," the entity answered. "How did you know?"
"Your burn marks," the Devourer of Souls said, "I recognize your burn marks. I was burned by the orb and the burn marks looked similar to yours."
The entity clapped tauntingly. "How clever."
"Why are you here, foolish boy?" The Devourer of Souls sounded annoyed. "And how did you know my name?"
"I heard you and Jeffric, the boy, talking," the entity answered, "I'm a part of him after all." Then, he crossed his arms. "And I'm here to make a deal with you."
"What deal?"
"You're the one who is detaining the power of this orb, right?" The entity looked around. "If you let me control this thing, I'll spare you."
The Devourer of Souls chuckled humorlessly. "Boy, I'm stuck in here. There is no way you can free me from this prison."
The entity broke into a peal of crazy laughter. "I already know that. I was just trying to trick you." Then, he stared directly at the Devourer of Souls. "I suppose that you're not foolish enough to be tricked."
"I'm smart enough to know that I should never make a deal with an entity like you."
"Well, pal, you just blew the easy way out of the window." The entity snickered. "I guess I should take control of this thing by force."
"Don't do it, boy," The Devourer of Souls spoke in a serious tone, "you wouldn't be able to handle the amount of hatred this object has. Look at what it did to me."
Even though the Devourer of Souls had no eyes, the entity felt his eyes staring at him with intensity. "It will burn and devour you, particle by particle until there is nothing left of you."
The entity stared at his burning form and smiled maliciously.
"Don't worry about it," the entity finally said smugly, and he started to fade. "You may be the devourer—" the Devourer of Souls saw the now almost faint silhouette of the entity raising his hand in front of his eyes and balling it into a fist "—but I will be the master."
Then, the entity disappeared completely.
I placed a cloth soaked with all sorts of herb juices on Ahri's back, where the wolf claws had made their marks.
Ahri winced while letting out a silent cry of pain.
"A-Are you ok?" I asked her, concern in my voice.
"Yes." Ahri winced again. "I'm fine . . . thank you."
I carefully and slowly rubbed the cloth on the slash marks, trying hard to not cause pain again.
A moment later, I removed the cloth.
The scars weren't had stopped bleeding, but I had to take precautions for them not to be infected.
"Don't move around frequently, Ahri," I said while standing up from the bed, feeling that the slash marks were there because of me, "you might open up the scars."
"Don't worry about me, Iminha." Ahri smiled gratefully at me, her golden eyes twinkling with sadness and gratitude.
"I'll go now." I crouched down and started to put all the bottles of colored substances and the brushes in the sack while picking up the unfinished painting of the tree.
When I stood up again, Ahri had already stood up from the bed and she leaned forward and kissed my forehead. "Have a nice day, Jeffric."
I smiled at her, to look as if everything was ok. "You too, Ahri."
Then I left, feeling empty and weak.
Ahri looked at Jeffric walking out of the cave and when he was gone, she collapsed onto her knees while bowing her head.
She failed him.
She wished that nothing bad would happen to that poor boy, but because of her, he experienced what causing a massacre felt like.
She still didn't know how his arms changed into those nightmarish things, but she didn't care.
She suddenly remembered herself devouring all the life essence of the inhabitance of an entire coastal village. She remembered the lifeless bodies lying on the ground, their empty eyes staring into nothingness.
Ahri had felt a feeling of deep sorrow that forced her to question her own existence after she had done that. Now, she was feeling it again.
Is my existence just harm to others . . . ?
That thought echoed through her mind as she stared at the cave ground and saw a tear landing on its sandy surface.
She wiped her eyes while trying hard not to sob.
It isn't time for self-pity, Ahri! Wake up! She told herself in her mind. Look at Jeffric . . . he is going to the village to earn things in order to improve your life in this cave even though what he'd experienced yesterday . . . you need to comfort him, not yourself! So come up with an idea, Ahri!
She stood up slowly while thinking of several things at once.
. . . I met him exactly a year ago, Ahri thought, and he never had a proper birthday . . .
Then, an idea popped into her head that might comfort Jeffric.
A late birthday celebration.
I was walking through the woods, heading toward the village.
She saw it, I thought despairingly. She saw me slaughtering those bandits . . .
I knew that she didn't hate me for what I've done, but still . . .
I stopped walking and leaned sideways on a tree, my body suddenly feeling as if I was being suffocated.
I whizzed, trying to breathe properly, but it felt like a rock was pressed against my stomach and chest.
She saw it . . . she saw blood . . . dead bodies . . . how can I forgive myself?
I grasped my chest tightly with my left hand while several beads of sweat started to trickle down my face and my eyes grew wide in panic.
She'll never forget it . . . she will always see me as a person that'd killed several people . . . I need to do something.
I thought desperately for something, anything that could heal the fracture in our friendship that was caused by me.
I suddenly remembered Ahri asking when my birthday was yesterday. Then I remembered what she'd told me a few months ago.
Back then, I'd asked her when her birthday was because I became curious after seeing a family celebrating their youngest son's birthday in a house in the village while I was heading back toward the cave.
"I don't have a birthday, Jeffric. Nobody taught me when it is."
Birthday.
That was it!
If I celebrate her birthday . . . maybe . . . just maybe . . . she would forget about what happened!
It was a bizarre idea, I know, but I was desperate.
Desperate enough to jump off a cliff.
I was now inside the stall of the woman that drew paintings. The woman had brought another wooden worktable and a chair where I could draw my paintings when she let me trade in her stall.
The woman looked up from her worktable when I entered.
"You . . . are . . . here . . ." She said while smiling slightly.
"Yes . . . I'm really sorry about not coming here yesterday," I apologized, "something . . . 'important' happened."
"It's . . . ok . . . Jeffric . . ." She smiled and went back to work. "Things . . . happens . . . yes?"
I nodded, even though she couldn't see me nodding, and sat down on my chair.
I put the sack down and pulled all the things out and placed them on the worktable. Then, I started to work.
I continued drawing the painting of the tree, but it felt as if my hand was resisting me, as memories of yesterday, emerged out of my mind because it kept on stopping and shuddering. But thankfully, I finished drawing the painting.
I put it on the corner of the worktable.
There was a stack of parchments on the ground next to my worktable, so, I picked the parchment on the top, placed it on my worktable, and looked down at it, trying to think about what to draw.
The memories kept on nagging me, reminding me how I felt back then as I unleashed my anger at the bandits.
I tried to ignore it and tried harder to think of an idea, but it wasn't easy.
Suddenly I came up with an idea.
The feeling I'd felt as I slaughtered the bandits . . . it was still fresh in my mind. What if I could describe it by drawing it on this parchment?
I started to draw pink flowers that were formed into a human shape that was standing in the middle. But there was a hole in the middle of the chest where I hadn't drawn any flowers. Then, I started to draw flowers with dark and red petals in the hole, as if the dark flowers were coming out of the shape's chest while drawing more of them around the pink flowers, like a fire burning an object.
When I finished, I looked at my work. It looked . . . kind of disturbing to me.
The woman was taking a rest while doing something that seemed to be her hobby. It was playing a musical instrument. The woman had told me that the instrument's name was haegeum, and I had to say that the sounds it made were really good.
If you could put a despairing soul into an instrument and play it, it would sound like the instrument.
And, she had been teaching me for quite a while too.
Haegeum had a rod-like neck, a hollow wooden soundbox, and two silk strings, and was held vertically on the knee of the performer and played with a bow. It was a musical instrument played with a wooden bow between two lines, standing in line with a large wooden block standing vertically on top of the ring box.
At first, the strings slightly hurt my fingers. But my fingers got used to them after more practices.
"Ma'am, I finished drawing for the day," I said.
The woman stopped playing the musical instrument and stood up. She looked at the two paintings on my worktable and smiled.
"Great . . . job . . . Jeffric." She patted me on the shoulders. Then, she gently picked both of the paintings and placed them on the table, where people who were going around the marketplace to buy things could see.
"It . . . is . . . already . . . lunch . . . time," the woman said, and she handed me an apple.
I smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you so much!"
It was lunchtime when I walked around the village, looking at new items selling in the market place or walk through the magical forest of Ionia.
After I'd eaten the apple, I was about to walk to the nearest shop to find something that would be a great present when I heard a wonderful sound. I looked toward the direction where it had come from and saw a crowd of people standing around a gigantic tree in the middle of the marketplace. The tree was the place where the villagers honored the heroic people that had fought and died against this empire called 'Noxus' that invaded Ionia some or many years ago.
There were always people who had honored the dead by placing flowers on the roots, but I'd never seen a crowd like this gathered around it.
The curiosity got the better of me and I pushed gently through the crowd, toward the tree where the wonderful sounds of music were coming.
When I finally arrived at the front of the crowd, I gasped.
A woman with really long twin blue ponytails was playing wonderful music with a floating musical instrument that had several long strings on it. She was wearing a sleeveless long blue dress that was gleaming in the sun while a pair of ornaments made of gold held the twin ponytails.
She had her eyes closed while weaving her fingers across the strings, creating the beautiful music that was now floating through the air.
The music was calm and sad, and I somehow quickly understood that she was playing for the people who'd sacrificed for Ionia.
I closed my eyes, flavoring her music.
When the music ended, I opened my eyes and I found myself staring at the woman's blue eyes.
She was staring right back at me!