Torn

Jason woke up drenched in sweat. He took in a deep breath and held it there, listening intently; the noises outside had lasted since noon.

The eight-year-old scrambled from his bed, despite his parents' countless warnings for him to stay inside his dorm. They told him a war had started, and had hidden him in the Temple of Forsa. With him were many other kids, boys and girls alike, all of different ages. The older children were helping the temple masters ensure that everyone was asleep, and how easy they were to get pass.

Jason stuck his back onto the wall, after making sure his rock-hard pillows were under the covers, and inched his way to the door. He saw the passing shadow of one of the older teens.

A boy with blonde hair peeked through the doorway and, seeing what he thought was Jason nicely tucked away under the covers, smiled to himself before walking off.

Jason sighed at how easily tricked his peers were, and immediately made a quick but silent dash for the door.

The sounds of sword clanging rang audibly even as Jason neared the back of the temple, where a secret door was. He found it a week or so ago with help from a twelve-year-old girl, who like him was not contented about being kept away in the temple.

As Jason approached the ancient walls of Forsa, he palmed the many bumps on it till his fingers hit a triangular one. Hastily, he grabbed it and twisted with all his might. The bump turned, and at the same time a hole in the wall appeared.

Jason scrambled through the hole and crawled on his belly for quite awhile till his face hit open air. The smell of blood nearly caused Jason to wretch. A dark mist shrouded the deserted streets of Grimland. Dressed in nothing but a one-piece garment made of cotton that covered his knees, Jason ran.

*** *** ***

Garen winced as his opponent drew the sword from his left thigh. He did his best not to scream, but the pain was overwhelming. That was no ordinary sword.

With his right leg, Garen shot out at the gut of the soldier. He let out a muffled yell as he fell on his back. Not wasting a second, Garen reached for the man's fallen sword and struck the place his foot had hit.

The fallen soldier screamed loudly. Yes, it was no ordinary sword.

Garen was just about to turn when the pain in his leg caused him to cringe once more. He fell harshly on his side and tried to get up but to no avail. A black mist obscured his vision, but he thought he saw a winged figure walking towards him.

To Garen, it was an angel taking him to heaven. To his son watching from behind a garbage heap, it was the angel of death.

It was his father's murderer.