My Life as Shadow Lord

The Outside World

I woke up to see myself still lying on the ground. The place around me was no longer my sweet home. The dead lay on the ground and my hand showed it all. The star on my hand marked with the black and white marks within each part of the star, each one seeming to be words. I walked away from the scene, slowly and hungrily. I walked past my dead parents, my dead friends who my mother used to save day in and out. My healing magic was not so advanced to bring back the dead. I walked slowly towards the main lands, green pastures with crops grown here and there. Crops which were useless to the dead who grew them. I did not care whether I would die from exhaustion or from hunger. What I did care about was the mark on my hand. I to go somewhere to learn of what I had just done. I recalled the incident, the black 'fangs' lashing out to cut through all who were close to me. Those nice shop keepers and children of friends gone because of my destruction. Mother told me stories about places called libraries, which had so much knowledge and nice people. She said she would take me to one once. I had to get there and find out this strange power within me and then maybe my regret will vanish, allowing  me to die in peace. I saw a small horse driven carriage. I startled and began to run as much as I could. More bandits might be coming. The carriage trails after me. I stumble over a large stone and fall to the ground. The carriage stops at me. The horses neighed in repulse. A man stepped down. "Who is this?" he asked in a kind tone. He looked at me. I trailed backward to get up but my lack of strength denied me movement. He briskly walked around me and put his arms across me. "Come with me," he said. He carried me on top of the carriage. His arms were kind and soft, like my father's- hands I could never hold again. I cried. The feelings rushed inward and pulled at my skull. The people who were killed by me. Father and mother in there own ways, unique, only now I realized howgrateful I am to them. A gratitude I can't show them. I vowed for their forgiveness. "Who are you? Where are your parents?"

"They fell down," I lied, "they died."

He looked at me gravely. "Would you like me to take care of you?"

I nodded. Without a word, he started the horse and we began to move. He didn't ask me where I was from or what happened to anyone else I knew. I found it strange but I needed even the slightest bit of help. Only this man could provide it.

                                           *****************************************

I slept in the horse driven carriage. The carriage softly creaked on its wheels. I felt relaxed, forgetting the incident and its pain. I needed to get to find out what this symbol on my hand was. I looked at it with horror. The old man looked backwards from the front of the carriage.

"Ah," he began, "your awake."

"Hello," I said wearily.

He moved slightly towards me, still holding the ropes tied to the horse.

"What's your name?" he asked me.

"Zariam," I said.

"Well Zariam, my name is Mr.Fisher."

"Thank you," I looked downward, "Mr.Fisher."

"We are going Ribera,"

"Ribera?" I didn't know what that was.

"It's a town next to the Wilhelm River," town caught my ear. This strange symbol might react again.

"A big town?" I asked. He nodded in pleasure. He must think I want to see a big town.

"Is there somewhere else?" I didn't want to kill more people.

"Somewhere else?" he began to laugh "I live there, I can't move!"

"Oh," I put on a fake laugh.

"How old are you?" He asked a few seconds later.

"Twelve," I replied.

"I see," he quickly glimpsed at the boxes at the back of the cart.

"What is inside?" I asked.

"Something special," he said.

"Can I see?" He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

"Not yet. When we're the town, you can."

I nodded.

Our journey ended within an hour. The moment we entered I noticed the large buildings and huge gatherings of people. We reached Ribera. It was large town filled with shops and eateries and people. The village would be too overwhelmed with so many people in one place but the town was built for large numbers. Far ahead I saw a river with many small boats rowing their way across the water. The roads were small, quaint areas that could be about two horse driven carriages in its width. The road bent to smaller streets cornering off into different smaller areas. The carriage stopped at one of the right-most corner. Mr.Fisher helped me down from the cart.

A small shop stood before us. 'Fisher's Fishsticks' was spelt on the top.

"Isn't it beautiful!" Mr.Fisher exclaimed. He waved is arms around the building, auctioning a hug on the building. "Here," he waved to me, "this is my restaurant and my home," he said as he knelt down to my height. "It's yours too now," he said sympathetically. I hugged him. I had to, my feelings burst out. I cried and then wailed. He hugged me back and consoled me with his fatherly touch.

"It's ok," he consoled, "we all have to lose something. Such is the way of life."

The words touched me. I've lost something and I can't go back to it. Forward is the only way to go.

Such is the way of life.