Clouds thickened into a vast black mass above the Great Pinewood Forest, and after a crashing thunderclap the rain began to fall in torrents. Plants and flowers unfurled their leaves, while animals of all kinds hid in their burrows.
At the center of the dark forest the thick smoke faded; ash drifted lightly with the falling drops. The fires Yamikaji had set went out, and the Rivarg he'd brought showed signs of drowsiness and exhaustion — but after what?
After the cabin had become a pile of coal?
After Takeshi's books had turned to ephemeral ash?
After his sword had been stolen?
After that boy had been devoured alive?
The Rivarg collapsed atop the torn, discarded corpse and fell into a deep sleep. Takeshi remained where he was, unable to move. The poison's effect had lessened, but there was no will left in him to move.
"How can I even follow them? How can I find them? How can I get my sword back?"
Takeshi felt high walls closing in from every direction. He fell face-first into the mud, hopeless.
"Why? Why do I still remember? Why do these events keep repeating in my head?"
Pages of his memories folded inside his mind; he kept replaying everything that had happened:
—the tragedy that had just occurred.
—the nightmares that always chased him.
—the years he'd lived in painful isolation.
—back to that day he considered the beginning of everything.
***
[Years ago]
Bodies heaped on the ground, drowned in blood, dead eyes and trembling hands picked at by hungry crows. Under a smoke-darkened sky and on cracked earth that longed for rain, the only drops that fell were hot with blood.
A full-scale civil war had erupted. It left behind massacres and untold dead; the war swept across the autumnlands of Orival and even wiped an entire city from the map.
The ground trembled lightly; with every passing moment the quakes grew stronger. Their source was a massive army of more than ten thousand men, all armored in dark green and armed with sharp swords and spears.
They arrived at the site of the slaughter. Their commander rode a black horse — a massive, bearded older man who surveyed the scene with narrow eyes. His deputy, a blond man in his twenties, stepped forward and asked, "Do you think this was the work of Tredora?"
The commander's face spread, his teeth grinding as he replied, "That man doesn't enter wars directly. If it had been him, none of these piled corpses would remain… The entry of that man into a battle is not fair."
"Right. Sorry for the misjudgment."
The commander turned back to his men and ordered, "Leave one unit here to bury the dead. The rest, follow me now! Today we'll make a true slaughter."
Without complaint they carried out his orders. Most of the troops returned toward the mountains, while one unit remained at the scene — only five men. Unlike the rest, their armor was old and worn, their weapons small and fragile; it was obvious they were ill-suited to the task.
"Why must we do this? I'm scared… I'm afraid to look at blood, let alone touch and bury corpses."
"At least this is kinder than shedding more blood and making people like us bury the dead."
As they spoke, a faint movement came from beneath the corpses. The five men turned at once, one drawing his sword toward the source without saying a word. Slowly a child of about ten crawled out from under the pile — it was Takeshi. His eyes shone with a glimmer of hope as he stood steady and faced the men; then, in a voice that contradicted the light in his eyes, he said, "I don't understand."
A sound came from one member behind him, and that long-lasting hope in Takeshi's face hardened into a vacant gaze full of hatred. He turned slowly toward the unit with a frown, bent over a corpse, pulled out a broken sword, and spat at them: "I hate humans."
***
[In the present]
The sun slid along its course toward dusk. The rain eased and a rainbow arced across the sky, while Takeshi remained in his desperate posture, replaying the reel of his life and waiting for his fate.
"What have I done with my life?"
The small spark of hope in his chest died out, and he fell into a pit of despair.
"Have I surrendered?"
A man appeared — his hair coarse and white, his frame tall and powerfully built. His features were stern, and his eyes sharp as a finely honed blade. He stood firmly before Takeshi, awaiting an answer to his question. His pristine white garments remained clean and dry, untouched by the mud or rain, and his dark cloak hung motionless, unmoved even by the restless winds that swept through the forest.
"You're just a phantom… you're dead… I saw you die right before my eyes."
Takeshi whispered, aware he was seeing a vision, aware of his state and his loneliness.
"I never expected my son to be such a failure—"
"Shut up!! I only consider you my father in name!! Don't call me 'my son' again even if you're only a figment of my imagination!"
He screamed, venting his rage at something intangible, and the apparition of his father answered, "Did you let them take the sword your mother gave you?"
Takeshi lifted his head, frowning against the poison, "My mother gave it to me… you bastard! Don't act like you did anything good in my life — you're the one who ruined it—"
"And so?"
The phantom cut him off. A sickening sound like the scuttling of spider-legs seeking a lost fly filled the air — the Rivargs, stirring as the sun set and the moon rose. The apparition continued, "In the end, you let them take your sword and burn your books and your cabin, you idiot!"
Takeshi struck his head to the ground as those words planted fresh regret.
"Stop… just stop…"
The apparition stepped closer, staring at him intently.
"I'm ashamed that a weakling like you is my son—"
"Stop!!!! I know I'm weak; I can't even protect a piece of iron! I know I'm a coward who can't leave a small forest to chase his goals. I know these things… but—"
"But what?"
Takeshi paused, then opened his trembling eyes and stared at the ground, summoning every memory his mind hadn't been allowed to erase, and said, "I don't understand! Why can't humans understand one another? Why can't they understand each other's suffering? Why can't they understand each other's feelings? Why can't I understand this?"
He raised his head; a deep darkness clouded the core of his eyes. "We humans are flawed."
The Rivargs' sounds grew louder. Takeshi's father's phantom turned his back and said, "You humans are defective. If you want to rid yourself of that defect, you must risk your life for your goals and find their true essence."
Takeshi tried to stand, but the poison left him with a superficial ache like a headache and utter exhaustion.
The Rivarg that Yamikaji had brought began to rise, its drunken movements evident. Desperately, Takeshi asked, "Do you think I can develop enough to achieve my goals?"
The phantom of his father smiled faintly; his eyes gleamed with a hope he tried to pass on. "Human development is slow, but there are no limits. They can reach the top of this world even if it takes centuries. Takeshi, set out to explore and achieve what you seek."
He pointed at the ground, "Start from this earth and all that's in it." Then he pointed at the sky, now blackened, and added, "And reach beyond this sky! You must rid yourself of your flaws — first is your damned isolation. Go forth and choose your goals carefully, my son."
"I told you not to call me 'my son'."
The Rivarg awoke fully. It did not care for the boy that had been devoured in broad daylight; it fixed its gaze on Takeshi as fresh prey, for Rivargs feed on fresh bodies.
Takeshi stood on his trembling legs; his eyes regained their natural color and the shattered fragments of his heart gathered back from the abyss of despair.
The Rivarg leapt forward to pass through the fading apparition of his father, which began to dissolve like torn paper into memories, its remnants scattering into the world and leaving a faint ash within his son's heart.
The Rivarg bit down on Takeshi's left hand hard, and drops of regret slid down his wrist. But Takeshi recovered and struck the creature with his other hand, making it recoil toward the forest.
He clutched the wound, rose upright, and let the moonlight reflect in his honest eyes. In a loud voice he declared, "I am Takeshi, you damned beasts! My first goal after I finish with you is to reclaim my sword and take my revenge on that cursed gang!"
At that moment, someone was silently watching in the darkness.