6 Lost

'My head...'

Strange nightmares invaded his head, all with eventful moments that Kallistar had never faced nor did he had known about.

He felt as if a strange jump happened in his memory when he was going to fetch some supplies, his grandma Anne even told him to tread carefully down the road.

At this point in time, just after that messaged played through his head thousands of time, he was placed on a weathered down cot with an unfamiliar ceiling.

A throbbing pain felt as if his mind was going to split apart, a snarl coming out of his mouth in the process everytime he ponders about his whereabouts.

"Woah now, steady"

The man who spoke came in his blurred visions, unable to make any part of his appearance except his brown hair and a stern physique.

The man's hand soon blankets over his eyes as a soothing light flows throughout his body. Each pore felt the agonizing pain soon become numb and all was serene.

Kallistar's vision faded once more in a deep sleep.

-_-_-

He awoke once more and felt the pain suddenly wisp away into the night, daylight causing his eyes to wince from the sudden rays.

"Awake now are ya?" The same man he remembered from the disruptive pain came once more. His body becoming more recognizable. his arms were bulky and his body showed that his body was once well-maintained, most likely a soldier or mercenary. His facial hair was unkempt and was brushed to the side in a lackadaisical movement of one's hand. But what provided much more solid evidence of his past of war and adventuring, was that one of his eyes were blurred to allow the white in his eyes to integrate to his pupil, and a missing sleeve for his right hand and down. He had most likely suffered these scars and forced to live his life normally.

"Where...am I?"

"Not far from Anne's home I reckon. Picked you up by the road alone, unconscious."

The pain lingered on, but with Kallistar's endurance, it was bearable.

Everything was becoming clear to him about his whereabouts at the moment.

This was the infirmary ran by the man, whose name was mostly known as Jahan. His past was mostly kept behind his lips, but scars from combat proved his past to either be bloody or chaotic.

But what came to a surprise was his appearance in Steadholme, the town that they reside in.

The land bordered the western coastline of the Stormlands.

Far from the influences of both the Dunmar Empire and the Order of Patas; a land that bordered the ruthless land of demons and beasts, a storm would always brew in these parts of the region.

Small kingdoms banded together to fight the threats that followed after, with tension regarded to whom they should be merged with. The Empire's ruthless and lawless reign, and the firm radical austerity of the church.

Both have their negatives; causing different perspective of the incident.

"Well, you're all patched up, leave anytime you want, your mom already paid for everything."

The stress on his mind eased away but slowly came back in a different form. Knowing that his mother's wealth was meager, paying for medical treatment was out of his mind. Kallistar felt as if he was just merely a burden to herself.

"Thank you, mister."

The windowsill near his bedside showed the time of day, the tint of above sheened that it was gonna get dark real soon. With the sudden realization just hitting him straight in his head, he prepared swiftly.

Placing his leather shoes on, he ran towards the door before he jerked away.

He turned away from the door and took a bow to pay respects to the man that nursed him back to health, before turning away and taking off.

The cold crisp air struck his face, the autumn sun soon set down before it touched the floor of the horizon.

The houses in the vicinity were sheening with warming fires as families get together for supper.

Smells of meat being grilled, bread being served and vegetables from their crops yielded his nostrils with a pang of hunger.

It was splendid that his mother's cottage was just nearby. A sense of returning home after a long day's work to return with a hearty meal.

He arrived just near the hill was where their cozy little cabin settled upon.

The exhaustion of running was strange as the door opened wide, revealing an elderly woman.

Her brown eyes take after her caring personality as pearls swept down her face. Thin scrawny arms seemed to carry all of Kallistar's efforts in the world. The blouse she always wore was shabby but expressed dignity in more ways than one.

She had no way to express her happiness in seeing his face, this was Anne.

Anne was always caring for him, when she was bedridden, all she could worry about was his wellbeing.

"Kall!"

Kallistar felt blessed to have her as his mother, but at the same time felt that he was undeserving of her love.

Anne opened up her arms in a loving embrace as both intersected in the path in front of their home.

The encounter was short, as both went inside to enjoy supper at night.

The same rustic-maple table was situated in the center, an iron furnace with a coal bed laid above was the kitchen. His bed was just nearby with wooden beams supporting his linen bed. Straps of fur laid to rest on the pillows and blanket. A room on the furthest left was closed with various bookcases sprawled throughout.

Anne was never really a type to collect books, but after she received Kallistar; she began buying books anywhere she could get her hands on; ranging from epics and culinary books.

A hearty stew welcomed his arrival. Ingredients such from the bacon, carrots, and potato in a thick broth made it all the more nourishing. Thyme and basil made the aroma just to die for.

"Are you okay?"

It took him a moment to swallow his first bite and felt nostalgic of the wonderful tastes flooding his taste buds.

"Yes, mother!"

Anne had doubts and decided to have a closer look, her rough hands touching his to find any marks left behind.

She breathed a sigh of relief when her endeavor was not successful.

"Once you're done, can you wash the bowls and hang the cloth outside?"

He nodded as this was his chores most of his time.

He remembered his childhood to be quite small, most people called him Kall because of his mother. Kallistar wasn't very interactive with the other children his age, always doing chores for his mother and reading from her studies.

The door opened to the left-most room in the wooden house, with a waft of flowery aroma consisted of vanilla and lavender struck his front.

She was a soapmaker for the middle class, receiving commissions for her soaps for living essentials.

The door closed with a small creak and slam as the locking mechanism was latched on. It was best for the door to be closed as the smell could get nauseating from the whole process.

Kallistar did all he could do best and went off to bed with a satisfied mind.

Steadholme was usually like this, residing in the Salhurak kingdom in the Stormland council. But life was usually unforgiving and in the nick of time, help would come in strange ways.

Demons were usually depicted as large beings that prey on human and the scorn of the church's purpose. In one of the attacks done by demonic beasts, their strongholds were all falling one-by-one. Their time living here was evidence of the attack and the proof that they remained lively as they did now. A clan of demons was the ones who helped against the beasts; providing foods and essentials to improve ways of living. Demons weren't all that bad as depicted and the Council thought very highly from their salvation. They coexisted with each other and even gave birth to halflings. This was one of the factors that change their views away from the empire and order, and how the decision to join either side became the largest issue. The expansion of both created an even greater prioritized decision to gain merits from either.

But that was all to change.

Near the walls that protect the outskirts of the town Steadholme was the clopping of horses. Footsteps were heard across the night unbeknownst to the populace as they marched their way onwards, a banner of a scale in perfect balance overhead the growing mass.