01. Cursed Glass

Panting, running. A man on the brink of his strength was rushing towards nowhere, escaping whatever was following him. Fear was mirroring in his eyes.

“Ah!”

The man fell. Unable to stand up again his body trembled. Tears were running down his face.

And behind him, a dark silhouette emerged.

A rider in black cloak riding a black horse. His shadow swallowed the sun shining upon the man, his eyes turned bloody red.

“P- please! Spare me! I didn’t know!”

“Who blind is blind shall stay,” the rider whispered and smiled. “You beg for a life of an ignorant fool, man. You’ve stolen.”

Scared of the deep voice, the man started shaking his head. “N-no… No, you- you did it on purpose! M-my family’s starving, what is an apple for-“

The cloaked man chuckled, the atmosphere became heavier.

“There’s nothing such as hunger in the darkness,” he said pointing a finger on the man. “There’s nothing at all.”
Shadows trembled, surrounded the man. He spoke no more, just stared, trembled. There was no chance to escape anymore.

The shadows swallowed him whole. Their new toy.

The Seeker they called him. The warlock inhabiting the East of the kingdom, right at the borders. He was like a myth, appearing and disappearing, luring people into his sick traps for no known reason, for amusement. That’s how all the ones plagued by magic were, evil.

And still, these evil people were human after all.

The cloak was down, the lamps lit. Two men and alcohol.

“And then! Then he begged! Can you believe! ‘I have kids to feed! I! I! Me! Ha-” the younger one laughed, gesturing around, spilling wine around him. “Vern- Vern, can you believe those selfish fools?!”

Vern smirked a little, how beautiful youth was! He bit into a cracker, watched the boy he could call his son. It has been twelve years since the child started following him around and frankly, he grew on him.

He would never imagine such a tiny boy would hold such a powerful seed, such opportunities. Did he not take him in, the child would be dead that winter. Yet, now he was standing there with him, fully grown, unbroken, playing a double-faced game.

“No, no. You’re not listening! Hey!”

The boy- no, the man with coal-black hair scowled, alcohol reeked out of him. That was the best part of the story the other one missed.

A sharp stare cut into Vern, inspecting him. He tried grabbing him but his leg slipped, the table trembled under the weight of his falling body. “Uh!”

Vern rose his eyebrows chuckling.

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“You have enough for today,” he concluded and reached for Taryeg’s glass.

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“No-” the younger one tried to dodge, spilling all its content over the floor.

Both of them stared at the red wine covering the floor, both having different thoughts, both processing what they see. Vern breathed in heavily, tried to hide his anger. He was furious, Taryeg knew, his body stood frozen.

“That’s it! The bed. Go,” Vern hissed angrily pushing the man aside. The whole floor was red. His floor was red. There was nothing that would make him calm down now. He stared at the damage.

His eyes sparkled gold as drops of the red liquid started rising to the air but leaving red stains all around. He started swearing, giving his companion a dangerous glare.

“I said go out of my sigh!”

“I-”

“Taryeg!”

The young man stumbled making his way to the door. He left out instead of up the stairs to his room, not thinking clearly.

A cold night breeze brushed his hair as he somehow ran out without falling, he covered his face sighing.

“S***,” escaped his mouth.

He was drunk enough not to be troubled by the events that took place just a few moments ago – yet, he found himself slapping his cheeks. Taryeg groaned.

His gaze lowered, fixed on his hand, the cursed glass in it.

The throw was fast and unexpected, followed by the sound of shattering glass coming from the darkness. It sank its teeth into everything it touched.

Taryeg kept staring, his eyes numb. He knew very well where the night hid the shards, he felt them. And just like some people are scared of the darkness for they do not know what is behind those black curtains, he was scared for he knew exactly what it hides.

The cold was making him sober faster than usual. He did not know how much time he spent outside just staring at the nothingness. Minutes, hours… Seconds only? His eyelids became heavier but he just kept staring at the light shining through the windows of an old house.

The man looked back, gazed at the twirling shadows following him, smiling, creeping – they wanted to play. No one else could tell how much they craved attention, worse than kids.

“Not now,” he mumbled stepping out toward the house.

Even if it meant a fight filled with yelling, the light was always quiet. He craved the silence, the calm moments that kept him from going insane. Although, he might have been insane already..

— New chapter is coming soon —
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