Nameless Lake

Prologue

"To insult someone, we call him 'bestial. For deliberate cruelty and nature, 'human' might be the greater insult"

- Isaac Asimov

1878

"You are special, Jason." His mother had always cooed. "You have a power inside you that makes you that way. I have that power as well. Use it to heal, if you can. Do not use it for evil."

His mother, the curer, would speak those words to him as he stifled the depression and sadness welling up inside his soul. She was magical in her own right, a mender among their people who used her energy to restore the broken and fix the weak. Her soul was pure as the winter snow.

And they had slaughtered her, extinguishing that light what once blinded bright.

He rushed sightless through the undergrowth and tree limbs, crashing with wild intent amidst the spine laden brush. The hard branches scraped at his exposed skin, causing blood to bead and run like down the length of his arms. The pain didn't split him, he was far too horrified for such a trivial thing. The warmth of it didn't distract him, either. His nerves had long since numbed him to the blistering cold. All he knew was to flee, to run as fast as his muscular legs could. All the while, he couldn't shake the heartbreaking realization having hit him not moments ago.

They had chased him from his home after they killed his mother. Their poisonous words split through the early morning air.

"You killed her, you witch!" They had roared in anger. The flickering of torchlight danced upon the pine needles hung overhead, gurgling screams ripping him from his bed. Jason had followed the screams from his home through the dense wood into a clearing. She was there, nightgown stained with dirt and the red of blood, bound to a pole amidst a violent throng of people. All heads starred down at her in judgement. Faces he knew and had known twisted in anger and contempt.

"I did nothing of the sort," His mother spat, a trickle of crimson streaking down the corner of her mouth. He'd never seen her face so curled in anguish. "She was already gone. I could not save her."

A large man strode forward with powerful shoulders. His rage crashed in waves as Jason watched from the cover tree shadow. With one swipe, the man harshly back handed the women. The echo of the deed rattled the people. Jason clenched his fists, but the stern look of his mother signified she knew him to be there. A warning flashed across her stoic features, emitting a much needed order.

Run.

"The age of charming us is dying, you hag." The man seethed. "We should have never trusted you with your wicked ways."

"It is still all around us, the power I have." Pamela sighed, the skin of her cheek pink. More blood rand down the side of her mouth. "You are tainting it with your own darkness. Your little girl couldn't survive it, her sickness was too advanced. I tried, Frederick. I tried so hard to save her."

The man roared with rage, striking her harder than before. The crack sent shivers across Jason's skin. He didn't know how long she had been out there under their brutal torment. Dark circles under her eyes indicated she had not slept and a trickle of blood oozing from her nostrils signified she had been under the scrutiny for a while. She groaned in pain but gazed up at the towering hulk before her with more fire dancing in her eyes than the torches flickering in their hands.

"Where is your spawn, hag?" One villager asked. A woman.

"You will not touch him." She snarled. "He is long gone."

"No, he's not. He won't go far from his mommy." Another man mocked. "Where is he so he can watch you die."

His mother lurched forward against the rope binding her to the pole. Ferocity Jason had never known her to possess ignited the air like a match to an oil slick. "You will not touch him, you monsters."