Darius could only look around him absentmindedly as he could see strange shadows looming over the dead and swallowing them whole. This shadow seems to only absorb the soldiers since the Spawns dispersed into black dust immediately after death.
He took off his coat and gently placed it beneath Aunt Joe’s head, he looked around for signs of the others but he couldn’t sense them anywhere. Mrs. Davis seemed to have disappeared from the treetop and Houser was nowhere to be seen. He looked back at the top of the hill and saw the manor licked in flames and slowly collapsing to the ground, his once-grand home is slowly degrading to dust and ashes now and there is nothing he could do about it. Darius could feel Duke slowly approaching him, too slow for a surprise kill but he didn’t care. Even if Duke wanted him dead, he would welcome it. In fact...
“Kill me...” Darius said quietly without turning to look as Duke approached. He really didn’t care anymore, everything he ever dreamed of was in the house on the hill and all of his hopes died with the woman lying in front of him.
“Sorry, buddy, I can’t do that,” Duke replied simply.
“Why not? You seem to know how to kill quickly enough.” Darius said with his eyes on Aunt Joe.
“Yeah, you’re right, I am skilled at killing,” Duke said as he picked up the sword Darius dropped earlier, “but you’re not. It takes just as much guts to kill something as much as dying for a cause. And let me tell you now, you’re not ready for any of that... Yeah, I could take this sword and take your head right now and, your troubles would be over,” Duke continued as he slowly aimed the tip of the blade to the back of Darius’s neck, “you will die and that Catalyst of yours will have to find another Chosen and God knows how long that would take. One Psyon less and the world will have more troubles to worry about because the Darkai has a lot more than a single squad of soldiers and assassins. I’ll have to go through this entire trouble again to save another selfish prick or,” he flipped the sword and held the blade while the handle is aimed at Darius, “you can take this sword and help me and others like us rid this world forever of those vermin. Because I can guarantee you, you’re not the only one to lose friends and family and if you don’t help us now, there will be a billion more losses tomorrow.”
Darius didn’t reply. But it didn’t take much for him to think as he quickly spun around and grabbed the sword by the handle and aimed the tip to Duke’s neck.
“That would work, too, but that would be a major disadvantage for you because I know how the bad guys operate and you know snot. You’re gonna need me on that at least.” Duke said calmly. He didn’t even blink…
“My name... Is Darius Reign...” Darius said once.
“And mine’s Duke Tyrell. I’d say nice to meet you but I don’t think the feeling’s mutual.” Darius slowly lowered the sword but his eyes were locked. Duke understood the hatred the boy has right now and he doesn’t blame him because, at times, hatred can be very useful.
“Why did all this happen? Why did they come for me?” Darius asked.
“Because you’re a Psyon. When a new Psyon is Chosen, the Darkai would go collect them so they could have more energy resources at their disposal. And believe me, it’s much easier for them to collect when you’re a corpse.” Duke said.
“And what are you to them? Why did you turn against them?” Darius asked again.
“Originally, I was often sent on scouting missions. Just track down traces of Psyonic energy no matter what and where... Until I was given orders to track two signatures that were located across Altaria and one in Iceria’s Eastern Domain off of the Imperial Realm. And the most recent was on this hill... Well, still is.” Duke said.
“So, you brought those things here before you decided to turn chicken?” Darius agitated.
“Not exactly. I was provided my coordinates to the signatures with this,” Duke said and took out from his back pouch a flat disk perfectly in the shape of a circle, “it’s a simple tracker but coordinates are pumped in once a new signature is found. So you can tell by now, they knew where you would be long before I arrived. You should consider yourself lucky that I found you at all or else you would be dead without putting up a good fight... And I gotta hand it to you, you got some mad skills with that sword.”
“Well, too bad for you because I’m not going anywhere... Go fight your battles using someone else. I’ve had enough.” Darius said as he dropped the sword and it dispersed into black dust like the Spawns before.
“I don’t really mind you not coming along but I know a few people that want to meet you and have suffered just the same as you have. Maybe even worst because they’ve all lost more than one--” Duke said but Darius cut him off by punching the air with a fire fist and missed his nose by an inch.
“Shut up! You are a soldier! What would you know about losing your family? Your own brother just tried to kill you and your father is a high-ranking murderer! What the hell would you know about me, huh?” Darius roared. Duke remained silent at first but knew how to deal with this kind of situation because this wasn't the first time his own family was brought up.
“Yeah, you’re probably right on that, I have a pretty messed up family but at the same time, I practically don’t have one... But I’ve fought with really good men who were no different than real brothers to me and they’re all dead now, killed in combat... I may not know what it’s like to have a real family but I know full well what it’s like to hate death and blame someone for it. But that’s what soldiers are for, we learn to control that hate so we can destroy the enemy and it doesn’t matter who or what, an enemy is still an enemy.” Duke said and Darius turned and picked up Aunt Joe’s body so he could go and bury it at the very spot she loved the most. This Duke character can just drop dead for all he cares and began to walk.
“Listen, if you don’t wanna follow me now, that’s fine. Others will come back and they will either befriend or foe and by the scenery of this wreck, most probably a lot of foes will come and wreak havoc again. You think you can survive without someone like me to help?” Duke said but Darius ignored him as he kept walking back up the hill.
“I’ll be seeing you again real soon,” Duke said finally and disappeared through a Hole he conjured.
Darius reached the manor, now steaming thanks to the rain starting to fall but since the dirt around them dampened, it’ll be more difficult for him to dig but then again with his new profound strength, it shouldn’t be a problem.
He gently placed Aunt Joe on the ground and like a mindless zombie; he went around to pick up the bodies of his dead neighbors and place them in line next to the other. He took a shovel from the storeroom behind the manor and began digging in the backyard. He knew that most of them have their own favorite grave site when the time comes but Darius never knew where and even if he did, he no longer had the mental strength to carry them and bury them where they had wished.
One by one, now twelve graves dug, he took a last glance at Aunt Joe. She still looked beautiful as if perfectly asleep in a red gown but without thinking more, he began digging. It was by far the heaviest thing he has ever done: with each dig and each chunk of wet dirt dug, tears began dripping with the full knowledge that this one was for the one woman that had raised him since his diaper days. He tried to remember all the fond memories he had with her, all the racing, the hours arguing over what’s right and wrong, the nights they gazed at the stars, and the days where she taught him how to love the world beyond more than just nature and, every time that image of her flows into his head his heart as well as his arms grew heavier and heavier until he stopped digging.
Having no other alternative, Darius picked the body back up and placed her on the old wooden table which is surprisingly still intact and can support her weight. Darius now focused on the manor, or rather, what’s left of it, and began tearing it down with his bare fists.
“Ugh…” he grunted as he punched and kicked any standing pole left but even if he hadn’t, the structure still would’ve collapsed regardless. He can feel the leftover flames at the bottom of the manor, he waved his hands and the fire followed his every move and will. He dragged the flames higher and higher and made the flames swirl into a cyclone, once fast enough; he brought the spinning inferno lower and swallowed the remains of the manor. As the flames began to burn and destroy the rubble, he could feel the fire devouring everything it touches and slowly turning them to ash.
He dispersed the flames and now all he could see was a pile of white ashes and blackened stones. As he took deep breaths, thunder started to strike the heavens again and, the rain started to pour down heavily. He salvaged whatever he could and tried to make a roof over Aunt Joe’s body but it couldn’t hold. And it just occurred to him that since he could move things around with his mind, it’s almost certain he could make a temporary shield for himself. He sat on the table next to Aunt Joe’s body with whatever space left and held his knees up to his chest, he closed his eyes and focused. Slowly, very slowly, the rain grew heavier but lesser and lesser raindrops hit him. He opened his eyes and could see the water flowing down from on top as if he is under a glass dome. And there, he waited.
***
Her wailing echoed across the halls of the palace. Servants, handmaidens, and royal guards from every corner of the palace rushed to their queen’s side as she wept as much as her body could handle. The servants knew they were not allowed in the chambers of the queen itself, the handmaidens could do nothing but cry along with the queen but even they had to keep their distance and the guard could do nothing more but stand at the ready surrounding the chamber to ensure none may enter.

“Your Highness, please, you must stop crying…” cried one of the handmaidens but her words couldn’t reach the queen, her sorrow was too great.
“Leave me...” The Queen spoke. All at once, everyone present or within earshot slowly dispersed and went on their daily routines. All the while, the queen in her disgruntled beige robes weeps on the floor at the foot of her bed.
What have I done, she thought, Joanna... Please forgive me...
Her weeping continued but she felt more at ease now that a sudden presence entered her room. This time, he’s here in the flesh and this time, no excuse would part him from her. She could not see him but she can feel his ever-moving cloak fluttering quietly. A soft, slight grip of a hand on her left shoulder connected and she automatically responded by taking hold of it, ever seeking strength and comfort from his touch although she did not turn to face him.
“Joanna is dead,” she said with a darker tone when saying the word, “It is all my fault.”
“Her death will never be in vain,” said a male voice, “it is and always will be his choice... We must be patient and await fate’s next move.”
“I will never forgive myself... He will never forgive me.” she wept.
“Perhaps. But you and I know full well that he has grown much faster than we planned. He is even Chosen and he accepted. We must wait.” the man released his grip and slowly stepped back.
“My love...” she called out and turned around but no one was there and the presence was gone. She dropped another tear and despite the devastation in her heart, she couldn’t wish anything more but her husband to return to her side, to feel his flesh and warmth, to hear his voice next to her ear like soft whispers once more.
Remembering her vow and oath, she stood up and straightened her robe, he fixed her hair with her fingers, and, with a deep breath she calmed herself down. The storm outside also subdued and calmed down and the sunlight began to peep through the endless gray clouds. She climbed back into bed and rested as comfortably as she could, and now, all she must do now is to wait for the day to come for her to face her past.
***
The rain faded until it stopped totally although the clouds still swirled above in shades of gray. Darius sat still and rocked himself back and forth slowly while looking at the forest beyond the bottom of the hill. Many times he thought to himself if something like this would happen, where would he go? Where would he live? How will he feed himself? All the people that could take care of him are either missing or dead, any wealth he had come from Aunt Joe herself so he is now cut off from any form of finance and as seeing that he is now officially of age, it was not enough for him to function properly on his own. Even soldiers are enlisted at the age of eighteen and no academy would take in a boy who has come of age. The future looked grim for him.
He would not, at the very least, be desperate enough to join a band of random rogue fighters fighting off a force of destruction especially if it involved more killing. There was still Old Man Rayleigh but he is just as big a mystery as any of this put together. He hated killing but he isn’t afraid to fight and yet he has hopes that a fight wouldn’t lead to death. Although he knows that Psyons will eventually kill because of their power and responsibility and even now, he wished he never had this power; he wished the angel in his dreams never came to him and chose him as a medium, he wished he had spent more time with Aunt Joe in his every waking minute and he couldn’t wish anything more than believing this was nothing but a terrible nightmare.
What Darius couldn’t understand was why the Catalyst chose him in the first place. He wasn’t anyone special or even noteworthy for mentioning, he had no special qualities that revered him above anyone else and his fighting skills were definitely not up to the scale of anything impressive.
But if he remembered correctly, the angel chose him for his heart and spirit but what does that even mean? Sure, Darius likes to consider himself as a nice guy but he has some rough spots to him just like everyone else and his spirit isn’t much of a spirit as his emotions keep interfering. So what makes Darius Reign so special that he is counted best amongst millions of others?
***
For two days, he pondered his head about all of this as time flies by. He stayed in the storage hut behind the manor (or at least what’s left of it) for shelter as a temporary. It didn’t rain since the day of the assault but it has been cloudy and Aunt Joe’s body remained on the table still perfectly intact.
It was strange that during all this time, Darius isn’t hungry in the least and thirst did not bother him either but the bitter cold of loneliness and despair has taken hold firmly and it’s making his body feel like it weighs a few hundred extra pounds heavier. Over time, he thought back on what Duke said about this whole Darkai business and how it would affect the world and its denizens and although what Duke said made perfect sense, he cannot imagine himself killing senselessly other people despite them being soldiers or pure evil entities. No matter how fit the punishment for the crime was.
Even for the death of Aunt Joe, Darius can’t comprehend himself killing that captain in cold blood for the sake of revenge although Duke would love nothing more than do the honors. Darius walked around the remaining rubble of the manor and just picked up anything that he could keep: a half-burnt photo of his mother and father holding him as a baby side to side, the jewelry box that Aunt Joe gave him for his birthday, the necklace that was enlaced with gold-bearing with the shining ruby in its center and a ruffled brown package that had his name on it.
Curious, Darius picked it up and could easily tell the wrapping style came from Mr. Burks. He opened the package and was a little shocked to find a red coat perfectly folded and isn’t burnt or destroyed like everything else around it. Darius opened the package completely and unfolded the coat; it was the very same coat that he had tried on at the shop just a few days ago. He changed and put the coat on and it still fitted him perfectly, a coat designed for many occasions and yet sturdy for a fight.
“Thanks, Mr. Burks. The only real sense that you’d save something like this...” he said to himself but the only real logic here is that Mr. Burks’s body could not be found nor could his presence be felt and Darius is left with the assumption that Mr. Burks is either dead by being eaten whole or is nothing but a pile of ash, like everything else around here.
He returned to Aunt Joe and stared at her face. He couldn’t bury her and even if he did, he couldn’t bear to be the one to do it or even watch; he wasn’t strong enough for that.
“What would you do, Aunt Joe? Would you have stayed here and wished that death would come sooner or go out there and make sure no one else loses their families?” he asked and sat down like before. All the while, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. And not that he cares very much, the only real fear is that those Darkai would come back again with a much larger force to fight with and there’s no way Darius could handle all that by himself.
But so far, these presences seem to want him to know that they are here. Darius could sense at least twelve nearby but they are immobile, invisible, and silent. Either that or Darius is slowly starting to lose his mind.
“Hello there.” said a young, friendly voice. Darius was startled in shock but was a little relieved to find a boy standing nearby. He wore a snowcap with leather pants and a sleeveless shirt and by the looks of it, he seems to be growing into his teen years.
“Uh, hi?” Darius replied but something is perplexing him.
“I can see you? How is that possible, you’re not even here?”
“Ah, you caught that, huh? Good! So it proves you’re the real deal then. My name is Zeeq and I’m a Psyon like yourself although based on how Duke described you, you’re much cooler in person than a story.” said Zeeq as he tip-toed closer to Darius as if he’s treading carefully over a minefield.
“How are you doing that?” Darius asked.
“It’s a little trick I came up with. It’s not as impressive as the others could do but at least I can do this much. Is that your aunt? She’s pretty.” Zeeq said as he reached the table. He jumped on a chair and smiled as he just won a gold medal.
“Yeah, she is... So wait, you’re an illusion?” Darius asked again.
“Sort of. Illusions have a certain shadowy offset to them; I’m more like a mirror. But anyway, I’ll just cut the carrot real quick. Why don’t you join us?” Zeeq said as he now tried to balance himself with one foot on the chair.
“Cut the carrot? Don’t tell me that you’re a member of that group Duke mentioned?” Darius returned. That was in actual truth, knowing how Duke represents himself, there’s no way this kid could actually be a Psyon more or less a soldier. He looks way too young and his attitude seems rather childish for a fighter.
“Well, yeah, cutting a carrot is pretty quick because you can just slice it once and you can eat it without having to cook it. And we’re not a group, we’re a guild. There is a difference, you know.” Zeeq said. Then he suddenly jumped and while still on the chair, he’s balancing himself with his two hands only.
“Okay, I don’t really care about the carrot. And can you be more specific about this guild? Guilds are meant for knights or freedom fighters but you’re just a kid. How in the world do you even qualify?” Darius asked and despite Zeeq now balancing himself with one hand only, this kid answered quite casually if not calmly.
“It’s a guild for Psyons only. I’m a Psyon so automatically, I’m enlisted. Well, sort of.” Zeeq replied with a smile.
“Since when did Catalysts have a habit of choosing kids for a Medium?” Darius asked again, this time his temper is rising.
“What, you don’t believe me? Okay then, if I can make you believe that I am a Psyon like you, then will you join our guild?” Zeeq said with a smile. Darius looked at him with an eyebrow raised hardly believing anything this kid is saying especially him being upside down and spinning around on one hand.
“Okay, fine, do something that will make me want to believe you and I’ll consider joining your guild or not,” Darius said with his arms crossed. As childish as this kid is, Zeeq is more than enthusiastic in wanting to show something off.
“Great! Alright, watch this.” Zeeq said as he jumped off the chair and onto the ground. He placed one hand on the ground and almost instantly, the ground began to shake like a miniature earthquake.
“So you’re an Earthshifter, big deal. I’ve known a few people that can do that. It’s not all that convincing, kid.” Darius said with a chuckle.
“Didn’t I tell you? The name is Zeeq.” He said as his voice suddenly became dark and hollow which made Darius instantly on his guard. Zeeq slowly stood up and whilst doing so, the very air thickened and trembled as if the very earth is shaking to its core. Darius knows this feeling, he felt it previously during the assault when Duke rampaged across the hill killing anything he sets his eyes on. And right at this moment, right when the pressure of everything started to weigh in on his very body, he could feel that cold, intense killing intent coming from this tiny teenager. Zeeq’s eyes were dark, he started to grow taller as if some illusion is cheating his eyes and all the while, the earth shook harder and harder until Darius was forced to stand on his feet his fist clenched in the fire.
But just like that, the killing aura was gone, Zeeq returned to his kid-like body size which was several inches shorter than Darius, the air returned to its original state and the earthquakes stopped almost instantly and that childish smile returned to Zeeq’s face.
“Well, what do you think? Pretty cool, huh?” Zeeq said with a grin. Darius was rooted on the spot and his fist is still on fire but he was no less impressed.
“So, since you believe me now, are you gonna join the guild as you promised?” Zeeq said as he tip-toed his way to the chair again but this time he sat on it with his legs crossed on top.
“I said... I’ll consider it...” Darius said as if he felt short of breath.
“Aw, come on, consider already, and let’s go!” Zeeq said with one arm raised in the air as if he’s cheering for a local sports team.
Darius is paralyzed in thought, to think that this kid, who couldn’t have been any more than thirteen or twelve, could cause all that without so much as trying and what’s more impressive is that this Zeeq is not even actually here in person but an illusion which could only mean that he’s in a hidden place very far off and yet could signal his power here.
“I think that’s enough games, Zeeq. You’ll eventually make him wet his pants” said a voice from behind. Darius quickly turned around to see another man standing near the rubble with his hands in his pocket. This guy wore a pair of blue jeans, an overcoat with a lot of buttons but he’s not wearing any shirt although that is easily replaced by his eight-pack ribs. If this guy is a Psyon too, at least he looks more mature than the other kid.
“And who are you?” Darius asked.
“Oh, hey, Rai! I just wanted to show Darius that I’m a Psyon too. And I think it worked!” Zeeq said with a gleeful smile.
“Rai?” Darius asked although it sounds like he’s asking himself.
“Name’s Raizo and I gotta ask, how in the world can you stand there with a bunch of dead people?” Raizo said with a chuckle and crossed his arms. At a first assumption, Darius didn’t like this guy in the least.
“I’ve known these people since I was a kid. All thirteen of them,” Darius said and paused to turn and looked at the graves, then to Aunt Joe, “well, most of them.”
“So why not bury her, too? It’s improper for the dead not being buried properly.” Raizo said. As if this guy is purposely infuriating, Darius isn’t keen to explain to this new guy how important Aunt Joe is to him and that simply burying her in his old backyard isn’t much of a burial.
“Like you’d understand why I won’t bury her,” Darius said with a dark look to Raizo. They both stared at each other for a while until Zeeq spoke up.
“Okay, there seems to be more grain than sand so I’m gonna wrap this up now. Darius, will you join us now? We always need another sword.” Zeeq said as he stood up but still in the chair.
Darius didn’t answer at first because he couldn’t leave Aunt Joe here like this--
“We’ll take her with us... If my memory serves me right, and it normally does, Altarians have this custom of burning the dead on pyres... Or am I wrong?” Raizo said as he approached the graves.
“Well, yeah but I don’t know how to do the ceremony. It’s called a Fenix and I’ve never seen it done.” Darius said.
“But Gunther does! He knows everything!” Zeeq said with a happy squeal. Darius and Raizo looked at Zeeq with an eyebrow raised but Raizo chuckled and agreed with what Zeeq said. At first, Darius is skeptical but he doesn’t how else to bury her and a Fenix is usually saved for royal burials. Darius sat down next to Aunt Joe and pondered in his thoughts but like the past couple of days, he still can’t make up his mind. Everything is going too fast: being a Psyon, the attack on his house, Aunt Joe’s death, and this guild. All of this makes no real sense but at the same time, the timing seems perfectly planned as if it's already predetermined.
What would you do, if you were here, Aunt Joe? He thought. But he already knew what she would’ve done and he definitely knew what she wanted him to do.
“Alright, I’m in...” Darius said finally after a moment of silence and Zeeq jumped and clapped as if celebrating a birthday.
“Good, grab her body, and let’s go,” Raizo said as he turned around.
“Oh wait, before that, let me add a few touches,” Zeeq said.
“Touches to what?” Darius asked. Zeeq simply smiled with glee as he stomped the ground, the hill itself rumbled a little bit and the amount of dirt on the graves were instantly sucked into the ground leaving behind a perfect rectangle for the grave holes and even erected a tombstone for each although no writings were engraved, not that Darius needs to write any names there to remember them. The graves now aligned perfectly with each other, all twelve of them.
“Normally, tombstones have names written on them... You don’t wanna add any?” Zeeq asked with his fingers ever ready for more action.
“No... I buried them, I knew full well who laid there and I doubt anyone would visit them here.” Darius said while staring at the tombstones.
“But--” Zeeq said but Raizo cut him off.
“You heard the man, he doesn’t want any names on them. I know you’re not deaf, now let's go and get out of here before people see us.” Raizo said and walked off towards the downward slope.
“Hmm... Okay, but at least let me clean the house.” Zeeq said quickly and waved his arms as if fending off invisible attacks. The ground shook for a second and the rubble of the house began to sink towards the center like a sinkhole in replacement, brown earth took its place, and just as quickly, the rubble disappeared leaving nothing behind but perfectly lain dirt and grass. His once beautiful house on the hill is here no longer.
As Darius stared at this empty space, he could see Raizo already halfway down the slope.
“Geez, what’s his problem?” Darius asked as he picked up Aunt Joe. It was surprising because she was much lighter than he remembered and there was still some warmth to her despite being dead for more than two days.
“He’s lost his family too but he didn’t get the chance to bury them as you could. He was forced to run.” Zeeq said as he hopscotched his way towards the slope.
“Wait, what? Raizo lost his family too?” Darius asked as he followed.
“Yeah, Darkai killed them all. They attacked his whole caravan. He’s one of the Wanderers which is kind of cool and I always liked to be one of them. They know how to give good jokes.” Zeeq said. That fact struck Darius quite hard because of the part that Raizo is a Wonderer. He has heard of those traveling folk that constantly wander the wilds and stops in major towns or cities rarely for business visits but the most intrigued part about these Wanderers is that they always, and reiterated, always travel in large groups of whole families or clans. So to hear that his family was killed off completely is at least a hundred times more devastating compared to himself.
“He could have said something... At least I wouldn’t have to blow him off like that...” Darius said with a more quiet tone now riddled with guilt.
“It’s not your fault, I think he’s doing alright compared to last time. He almost killed Duke into total dust, I mean, so far, he’s the best fighter out of all of us.” Zeeq said as they made their way down the hill, he’s spreading his arms out wide as if he’s pretending to fly while whistling.
“Duke? Why, did he try to kill the guy or something?” Darius asked.
“Not really, Duke tried to save Raizo from the Darkai that attacked but Raizo thought Duke was the bad guy so he got beat up pretty bad before he found out the truth,” Zeeq replied. And with that knowledge, Darius felt even guiltier for blowing two different people off for, apparently, no sound reason.
“Alright, Darius, this is where we go. Stand still.” Raizo said as the other two approached. Darius kept quiet while Zeeq was prodding around as if the ground is slippery.
“Um, what about Zeeq? He’s not going with us?” Darius asked.
“Didn’t you say it yourself? He’s not here.” Raizo answered simply. He raised his hand and pointed to the sky, electricity surged around his palm until it grew bigger and bigger. A bolt of lightning shot down from the skies and struck right where his hand is, a flash of light, a blinding scene of white and nothingness, and Darius can hear a humming tune. They are being teleported.
Right before the blindness took over, Darius turned around and took one last good look at his former home. The one place where he was born and raised, the one place where Darius Reign got killed along with his guardian aunt, Joanna, and the one place where his new life is forced to begin. A new chapter in his life is now writing itself the pages.
“Safe trip guys, see you there!” Zeeq said as he waved goodbye and Darius felt the ground disappear from beneath his feet.