As they ran through the forest, Faust and his mother, Tiya, were beginning to falter. Neither of them was skilled in running nor possessed great endurance. Their arms and faces were scratched and bruised as they pushed through branches.
"Don't… stop… running…" Tiya gasped, struggling for air.
Faust nodded in response, his red eyes were filled with tears.
But they didn't stop. They couldn't. Tiya refused to let her husband's sacrifice be in vain.
Then, a sound came from behind them, branches snapping and ground being stomped, followed by the flickering light of a torch. A dark-clothed figure was tracking them. Both Faust and Tiya understood what that meant—Rust had fallen.
Minutes passed. The torchlight grew closer. Their pursuer was skilled, too skilled for a simple bandit. Their hearts pounded in fear as exhaustion crept in. They had been running for over twenty minutes, even with adrenaline, they had limits.
Soon, their pace slowed. The light crept closer.
Swoosh!
An arrow struck a nearby tree trunk. Faust and Tiya instinctively turned their heads, seeing the torch barely thirty meters behind them. Panic surged through them as they tried to speed up, but their bodies wouldn't obey.
Swoosh!
A second arrow grazed Faust's left leg. He staggered, nearly falling, but Tiya caught him. A third arrow followed, missing them, but making their heart pump faster.
"Just stop running! I'm trying to help ya!" the dark-clothed man called out, his sword sheathed, bow in hand.
Faust and Tiya ignored him, pushing foward. But once again, their bodies betrayed them. Their legs grew heavier as the light got closer.
Swoosh!
This time, unfortunately, the man didn't miss. Tiya gasped as the arrow was buried in her back, nearly piercing through her abdomen. She collapsed onto the ground, blood spilling from her lips.
"Ma! Mom! Please, get up… quickly!" Faust sobbed, tugging at her, but he was too weak, and she resisted. His cries grew louder, raw with grief.
"Mother… please… not you too!" He screamed, his voice breaking.
The pursuer draw nearer, navigating the uneven forest with much more ease than Faust and his mother. He reached for another arrow, but missed his mark, again. "Damn, my aim really sucks… I need more practice when I get back to camp." he muttered.
Tiya cupped Faust's face, wiping away his tears with trembling fingers. "Son, your father and I… we love you. More than anything. So, please… please run. You must escape."
"Mom… please, let me help you". Faust pleaded, still trying to lift her.
But Tiya shoved him away. She knew she wouldn't able able to go far even if she could get up.
"Go!" She begged. "Please, my son. Go!"
The dark-clothed man was not a little over eight meters away. He slung his bow over his back and unsheathed his sword.
Faust got up from the ground, and when he was about to try to lift his mother again, a thought flashed through his mind.
"Run."
He turned away and started running. His mother had a light smile on her face as she looked at the sky. The sky was pitch-black, it had thousands of white stars. It was a beautiful sight.
"The sky is so beautiful… I hope Faust can look at it another day." Tiya muttered with a weak voice, her eyes were closing second by second.
The swordsman got closer to her body. She looked at him, before throwing dirt on the torch that was on his hip. The flame went out.
He looked at her, his breathing unstable, likely from chasing them for so long. Without saying a word, he slashed her neck. Blood started to pour like a fountain, dark red and thick. Her eyes soon lost all their light, she died.
"The beasts will take care of the body. Now, to find that kid… but how am I supposed to do that without light?" The man muttered to himself, again sheating his sword and pulling out his bow. He glanced around, seeing nothing. "Tsk, forget it. I'm too tired, and without light… That kid won't survive anyway, the goblins will probably kill him before he even gets out the forest."
With a grunt, he turned and made his way back toward the village.
Faust kept running. His body, already on the brink of exhaustion earlier, seemed to come alive with energy for reasons he couldn't explain. Though his muscles were in pain, almost burning, it didn't stop him.
"Mom… Dad… why?" He thought, tears streaming down his face.
Soon, his foot stepped on nothing, and he lost his balance.
Crash! Thud!
Faust found himself staring at strands of red hair in front of his face. He was taller now, bigger. He was looking at the sky, sitting at the edge of a cliff. He was gazing at the vastless and beautiful sky, it seemed to stretch forever.
Below him, an enormous city took place, covering at least ten-thousand square kilometers, expanding as far as the horizon. It had towering walls, they seemed to rise over a hundred meters high, and the lights blinked in a multitude of colors—blue, yellow, red, green. Sounds of a distant festival reached his ears.
His red hair fluttered in the wind as he took a bottle from his side and drank deeply, the strong liquid burning his throat.
"Ah… how much longer?" He muttered.
He closed his eyes.
The sounds of the festival faded into the background, replaced by rhythmic rush of water and the slow exhale of his breath. The colorful lights were gone, swallowed by the pale glow of the moon.
Then, the cold surrounded him.
Panic surged through his body as he realized he was submerged. His muscles screamed in protest, his lungs burned, but he forced himself to move. Pain was better than drowning.
A few seconds agonizing seconds later, he broke the surface, gasping for air. His chest was heavy as he frantically searched for solid ground. The water's grip was relentless, but after several desperate movements, his fingers scraped against something. It was ground, it was made out of stone, rough and uneven, barely rising above the surface.
The moment his body left the water, the last remnants of adrenaline abandoned him.
Then, the pain struck.
"AAHHGG!" He screamed as his head felt like it was about to split open. It was like his mind was unraveling, splitting apart piece by piece.
Besides the pain in his head, his entire body was in a rough shape. His white pajamas were torn and tattered, his pale skin covered in dozens of small cuts from the tree branches. A deep wound on his left leg, from the earlier arrow. The only thing about him that remained almost unthouched was his pitch-black hair.
The agony lasted for what felt like forever, but eventually, the pain started to dwindle. After about thirty minutes, it stopped, leaving Faust shaking and gasping for breath. His tears flowed once again.
"Mom… Dad… Why? Why did that happen? Why did I run away when I didn't want to?" He whimpered, his voice breaking.
"No… it must be a nightmare. It has to be." He wanted to believe it, but deep down, he knew it was real.
Two hours passed as Faust wept, struggling to accept the painful truth. His face ached from the crying. He tried to stand, but pain flared through his legs, specially the left one, and he collapsed back the ground, screaming in frustation. Soon after, he forced himself to calm down again.
"Where am I?" He murmured, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.
The ground beneath him was rough, uneven and umid. It was so dark that he could barely see a few inches in front of him. but looking up, he saw a hole in the ceiling, light streaming down from above, and the stars glimmering the night sky. He had fallen into a hole—at least ten meters deep. His legs were burning from the strain, but nothing seemed broken.
Seeing as he could not walk, he started thinking, again.
"Maybe Mom and Dad escaped?" Faust tried to convince himself.
"Well, I didn't see everything. they could have run away… Dad and Mom are strong. They got away! Yeah… they must've."
He kept talking to himself, convincing himself.
Hours passed. Then half a day. Faust was still lost in thoughts.
"No… they didn't escape." He finally admited, his voice hollow. "I can't be naive… those people wouldn't let them."
His hands clenched into fists. His jaw tightened.
Soon, it was night again.
"So be it." He muttered. "They're dead. Yeah… they were killed. But those bastards are dead too. They're dead. I will kill them."
"If i don't kill them, how could Mom and Dad rest peacefully? There is no other way." He whispered to himself. He was still seated on the stone floor, his fingers almost digging into the rough surface.
A slow, creeping hatred coiled around his thoughts and heart, strangling everything else. His mind raced faster than usual.
He looked up again, it was morning.
Faust pushed himself up once more. His legs still ached, and his left leg was especially hurt since it got grazed by an arrow earlier. But the pain was no longer unbearable. He could stand. That was enough.
When he stood up, a voice echoed in his mind.
"Good."
He froze. His breath hitched as his dark-red eyes darted around the cave. Nothing. No movement, no figures, just the cold, damp stone on his feet. His face was still puffy from crying, but his tears had dried. His face was almost back to normal—cold and unreadable. Except this time, dark circles loomed under his eyes.
"Climbing is impossible… I can't hold my breath long enough to dive, and even if i could, there's no guarantee it leads anywhere." His thoughts were sharp, unnaturally fast.
He was hungry. His stomach growled.
He considered his options one last time. There was only one choice.
Faust turned toward the dark stone path and took his first step forward.