- Hope for the Forgotten [pt. 1]

Once a little girl had asked her father a simple question. The question was not sad, nor harsh, foolish or rash. In all it was honest, kind, compassionate and with the adorable smile the girl accompanied with it, no one could get mad.

"Daddy, why can't I go play in town with the other kids?"

Except the father, who spoke with a harsh tone in his voice.

"You will do no such thing. We are outsiders to those people, ones who came from over the mountains, and into the valley. They don't like us."

"Why?"

Again, she had asked with all the innocence her little heart could afford to muster into her chest, and for a child it was like filling a cup with a river's water.

But the father only looked out the window and over the treetops, watching the breeze that passed over through the trees, glancing upwards onwards the mountains.

"Because we were not one of the people. We came from the mountains, and we are not loved."

That was all he said. But to this day the man regrets having not taken the child to the side and told her the horrid details of the truth.

Far away, hidden within the distant mountains, living in the valley, the descendants of the great Concors believed that all who came over the mountains were different. All who came with them were vile and evil like their forefathers had taught them.

"Those who walk the ridge of the peaks are demons in disguise. They hide in human flesh and skin, but you can see them for who they are within their eyes."

Of course, these forefathers were mentioning the great demons that waged border wars against them, for this was at a time when the Concors were at their last breath, having been pushed back as far as the Eastern mountains where they held their ground until their last stand.

And they won, but their descendants never forgot the lesson they were taught, for now all who came over the mountains - their blood or not - were demons that had to be gone.

The farmer and his wife, who had come to the valley to begin a new life with each other and to raise a good family, were one of these unlucky few. They tried and tried to plow the ground out and cut back the woods, but they never could.

Some of the locals, who saw their innocence and kindness, helped them by teaching them all they could know, and soon the farmer and his wife were happy once again, proud to be one with the woods and the land they had dug up with the help of many hands.

But the child was not one to learn well from her father's harsh words and chose to sneak out in the early morning sun before her father was back from his chores around the farm. She took with her a handful of bread to snack on as she ran down the great hill she loved to roll around on, racing between trees and brush, along roads and fence posts before he came to the small and quaint little village.

The little girl was happy to be amongst the people, looking out for other kids she could race though the streets with and laugh with before heading home to tell her father that the kids in the village were not all so bad.

But even as she skipped though the stone covered streets, she heard no laughs and saw no smiles amongst the people leaning against homes, shuffling through the streets with holes for bellies and hollowed out faces.

But the girl was innocent and even before such a horrid sight she nicknamed the people of the town, "ghosts."

She was quite happy with the name and even as she ran though allies and waved at passersby, she was happy with the day, despite the sad looks many of the people gave her, admiring her tenacity to remain happy and joyful in such bad times.

For the little girl did not know what hid beneath the mountain with a great fortress these people once called "home before their home." And within their large hall, seated with the great tombs of the old heroes, lied the Great Fire of the Sky.

It was a nickname the people learned to call the Green Dragon.

His scales were like the forest tree leaves, dark and mesmerizing to look at as they shimmered in the sun. But it was his green and emerald fire that tore through the night, and every sleepless dream the villagers saw in their nightmares always depicted his emerald fire.

In the days of his arrival all their livestock and crops had vanished in talons and teeth, fire and wind beats from his great wings. They had nothing to eat, and for the little they did have, they always fed the sacrifice they were forced to give up to the Dragon to keep his belly full and his head swarming with dreams.

They lived horrid lives and envied the little girl who skipped so merrily down the street, it brought smiles on their faces as they watched her run. But one little boy saw the bread she held tightly in one hand.

"Hey!"

He called from the alleyways as the girl stopped just beyond the square. He ran from his spot along the wall where he once curled up in a tight little ball, now standing before the little girl's wide eyed and beating smile that made his heart flutter.

"Why did you get that?"

He pointed to the bread, trying not to stare so rudely at it, as his mother had forbidden him from doing since he was a babe.

The girl, however, saw his hungry eyes and like her mother had taught her, she gave him the bread to share. She didn't mind when he gobbled it up, though, mumbling his thanks as he gave himself a belly rub.

She called him Little Ghost from then on.

And from then on, the little girl would always sneak away in the early hours of the day, giving him her breakfast as they chatted and talked. But one day when the little girl had decided to run back to her home, Little Ghost waved to her as she left, he felt his stomach twist.

He had been told to talk with the little girl, to speak with her and learn what he could since the day they met, all a plan that laid itself out in the shadows of hunger.

His mother had been watching him from afar and had planned it all from day one when her son came home with a full belly and tales to tell of the merry little girl, he met in the town square. Now the mother made him tell her everything and everything he told, from the girl to the family, to the father and the farm.

It was bountiful, it was clean, and though what little food the villagers did have could always be traced back to the farmer, the mother did not know that. All she saw was a family hiding in the woods, getting fat as they laughed in their merry little tunes, while hers starved.

Little did she know that the little girl's family gave her all the food they had, while their own stomachs went empty at night in bed.

So, on the fifth day when the little girl came to play, and left that same morning running fast up the hill, she never knew the scheming eyes of dozens watching her from the shadows of the dawning sunrise.

They would come tonight.

***

The caravan trekked on through the mud and puddles of water from the heavy rains that had passed over the mountains and down into the valley. The more they walked and rode farther on, the more the riders began to see the changes in the land around them.

Where once there had been only the distant and occasional sights of ruined buildings and forgotten homes, now they saw them with every turn, vines snaking up the rocks and the rotting wood.

Lia herself watched as she led her horse past a large and once grand water mill, the rocks falling from one another into rubble, the wood rotting with termites and rain, encased in a thick layer of brush and trees. If it had not been for Totalac's word, a word she trusted well, she too would have believed this town to be abandoned and left behind.

But she knew who he was, and he knew this place well. At night he could still see that water mill turning, the small bridge they walked over was not rooting back then, and the creek filled with kids who dug in the mud with their small little hands.

He used his head aside as they passed, not wanting to see such a vile sight all over again.

Lia noticed this as she rode beside the leading cart along the long line that made up the caravan. She didn't want to bother him, she knew what he was going through right now, and her mind was already swarming with the visions the cave had made her see.

From her mother to her friends, to the monsters whose blood she had on her hands, she had seen it all and now it lingered in her mind like some haunting ghost's call. She needed help, she needed advice, and she had feeling Totalac needed the distraction as well.

"Are you afraid?"

He said nothing as they rode on in silence for many more minutes, his eyes glued to the road as the wet and slick mist of the morning faded over forgotten farm fields.

Finally, after what felt like forever as they continued down the road, their horses baying in the open silence of the air, he spoke.

"Terrified."

"...So am I."

He gave her a strange look, as if he half believed the words she was saying.

"If I recall, didn't you once have the look of a fighter inside of you? The first day we met you were rude and headstrong, but now…"

He drifted off as Lia looked down into the muddy ground they walked over, passing the misty colored morning as the sun rose beyond their sight.

"I was a bit rude back then. I'm sorry for all that."

"Don't be. Back then you had a fire burning inside you, it gave this old man some hope. What changed?"

"...I suppose I've just learned to accept death when it comes. I'm no longer trying to fight a pointless battle when I know I will die. Instead, I just find myself letting it happen."

Within the fires of war she saw how close she had been to death each time, but now it all seemed different. Like things were beginning to wind down around her, like the feeling of battle had left her soul in place of a dull warmth that coursed through her veins.

Totalac nodded as he snapped on the reins, picking up speed as the horses began setting off into a trot.

"That's old warrior talk. I lost my spark long ago and never once has it burned again. But you're too young to be going up in life so soon."

"Are you calling me old now?"

She smiled as they both shared a glance, chuckling to themselves as they continued, silence settling in around them before the man spoke again.

"To tell you the truth, I am terrified. There's a part of me that wants to continue this life without ever seeing the past I left behind. But the other half of me is screaming in anger. I'm afraid to let either side take control."

Lia didn't know what to say as they passed an old and ruined brick farmhouse, and Totalac mentioned how they were close, but Lia didn't hear it. Instead, her mind floated back to words she heard once, words from a man she casted out of her mind.

"Let the monster take control, but only for a little while. Let the coward drive the body, but only for a little while. Let the world move by a little at a time, and you'll make it through life without a haunted mind."

It was a moment before she realized those words were spoken aloud, and at once she turned to Totalac with an apology on her lips, but stopped as she saw his eyes, full of remembrance and acceptance with tears brimming on the edge.

"Let the world pass you by a little at a time…Honestly, it makes me wonder if you're not really some ancient warrior. Gods know that only a warrior of many battles would say something like that."

The conversation ended there as the haunted man and the dancer with death, rode on past the mist.

A father would always regret his greatest sin.

***

The town was deserted, abandoned and alone. Houses were burned and turned to ask, while rubble toppled over rubble and piled into the streets. Many of them could see the faint images and figures of skeletons that hid within the allies, hidden within the shadows of the broken houses.

The place was so lonesome and eerie that as the Caravan stopped, many refused to leave their seats on the inside, and those who did - like Lia and the rest - drew their weapons from their sheathes in a shared breath.

They said nothing as they watched the mist travel over the houses and the far mountains and trees, blinded by the hazy fog that stretched out over the rocks and the rubble.

But there was nothing there, and at once Gilbert hung his long sword back over his shoulder, holding his hands on his hips as he spoke, looking around.

"I told you. This place is abandoned, whatever people where her have either left or kicked the bucket. Let's just move on."

No one moved despite the look of calm in his eyes, for they all watched Lia as she held her blade forward, eyes turned and peering over the mist and fog. She was alert, and that scared them.

"Trust me, there's no one here to rescue so let's just move on and -"

"Rescue?"

A sudden and small voice echoed through the quiet air, and despite Gilbert's loud and deep voice, the eerie soft-spoken word was heard through all their ears.

Lia immediately turned out the sound of the voice like the rest of them did as Gilbert re-drew his blade, their eyes landing on one small boy - barely five or six - as he stood in the mist and fog. He looked hollowed eyed and under fed signs of malnutrition and haunting nightmares showed against his ragged clothes and dirt covered face.

The nights had not been kind to him as he clutched a bear in one loose and thin arm.

"Great gods of the Heavens and Hells…"

Lia heard Gilbert mutter as the boy spoke again, his voice a quiet and eerie echo through the still and cool air.

"Are you here to rescue us?"

There is something in his voice that Lia didn't like, something calm and lurking within his voice, like some mask he wore to hide himself away.

"Us? Who's us?"

Even as the word was leaving her lips, she got her answer as the many eyes of dozens peered form behind the mist and fog from the distant buildings past their line of sight. Then in an instant they were gone, hidden behind the fog once again, leaving the boy all alone as he waited for an answer.

"Sh*t, they're all around us."

Lance raised his sword to his side as he caught a glimpse of two pairs of eyes watching him form past the fog. Emma and Oliva did the same, back-to-back against one another as they searched the fog.

"What do we do?"

"How should I know just keep an eye on your left."

"What about your right?"

"My right's fine, your left!"

As the faint sounds of Lia's friends and allies arguing amongst one another as their fears took over them, she knew this would get bad if they couldn't even see their enemy past this fog. So, with her quick mind she brought her right hand to her chest and whispered two words barely heard above the tense atmosphere.

"Ventus aspirus…"

She watched as her rune circle changed and took the form of a Falcon, the spell already faintly traceable in her head as she reared her fist back before slamming it into the ground, yelling above the sounds of the arguing and silence that stretched before them.

"Ventus Aspirus!"

Suddenly as her fist plummeted towards the ground, Lia and the others felt a huge gust of wind overtake them as it blasted out from her rune circle like a storm's windy breath, blowing away the fog and mist that covered them like a blanket of blindness.

But as the fog dissipated into the air the faces of more than a dozen or so people appeared, and Gilbert shouted in surprise as he stepped back. Everyone's blades and weapons were raised again in the sudden spike of fear, but even as they looked past the hungry faces and dying eyes of the villagers, all they could hear was their own breathing in the wind.

Then, just as Lia was about to speak, one man came forward from the crowd and bowed slightly as the others stared, seemingly in disbelief as they clung to the edges of life by a thread and hair.

"...It's been decades since anyone has visited these lands. Please…tell me that you are here to help us."

After a few moments of silence passed between them, Lia lowered her blade as the others followed suit shortly after, her eyes scanning the looks of fear that each person present held on their faces like a mask of their former selves.

The only thing to remember themselves by.

"What happened here?"

In the end, after finding her voice, it was all she was able to ask as she looked over the starving people; men, women and children all dying from hunger.

The man, their leader, could hardly speak, but in his shaken and shriveled voice Lia heard his answer clear as day, like a bell in the silence.

"The Dragon. He took all the food, burned everything to the ground…we've been starving for months. Please…help us."

The old man took Lia's hands in his, holding them to his face like she was some type of saint, but then again, these people had seen no life crawl from the forest since the Dragon tore his way through the land.

She was a living miracle in his hands, and it filled the villagers with hope and chance.

"Please…please…please! Help us!"

The old man began to sob as the other followed his example, their relief showing clear on their faces as the tears that ran like rivers down their cheeks. Lia saw this, they all saw this, but her heart was only filled with poison and debate, like two parts of her mind tearing her body apart.

It wasn't her place to say anything. It wasn't her place to decide anything about them, but she feared what the answer would be from a man she only knew of smiles and laughter.

But then, the calm and clear voice of a man tore through the silence that filtered the air.

"Leave them to me."

Even as Lia turned, she knew his face before he spoke again, his eyes like sad burning stars across the darkness of the sky. A man who had every reason to hate them for who they were.

"I'll take them."

Totalac.