Wall of Nothing

Rubin made his way through the forest ahead of his adventurous peers, the others were aimlessly following him, but he had direction. He had wanted to see what lay in the Empty Forest if anything was in it at all. He never asked the others to follow him; they just followed. They all gathered next to him shortly after he got past the town's far gates, he saw that the little rats were following him, and he told them to go back, but they refused. At that point, he didn't care if they followed him or not as long as he wasn't responsible for them.

They weren't going to stop him anyway. If he turned back with them, he would get caught and would never get to see what was beyond Crion's Gates. Not to mention, his father would probably make sure that every time he tried to think of the Empty Forest, the only image in his mind would be the pain he would experience afterward. He much preferred curiosity over pain, although one often leads to the other.

He had always been curious about what lay inside the forest, and the stories and warnings only wanted to make him go more. The forbidden fruits are the most delectable.

Rubin's question would soon be answered as he felt a noticeable change in the atmosphere. The canopy letting in medium-sized arcs of light had started to let in less and less light, the canopy didn't get denser, and nothing else had changed in the surroundings, yet it got darker.

"What the?" Rubin almost instantly noticed the change, he looked back to see if any of the other children had noticed, but none had. "Wasn't there six of them," Rubin muttered under his breath, trying to find the lost child. "Maybe there wasn't." Rubin wasn't really paying attention to them that much, and they were all going moderately fast; there was a possibility the missing kid couldn't keep up. Even he was surprised the children behind him could keep up with him, though it was probably partly due to the Well Ceremony. The well's effects had waned in him, but the magical water was still coursing strongly through these children's veins.

The deeper into the forest, the thicker canopy was covered with an invisible veil, causing light to filter through less and less. The children realized something was amiss only when the filtered light barely snaked through the strangely open canopy. Everyone was aware of the change, some brushed it off, but others took it as a bad omen. Rubin could hear the idle chatter of the children and how they should turn back.

"Rubin! Rubin!" A slightly disheveled dark-haired boy ran up to Rubin and grabbed his arm, stopping him. "What?" Rubin pushed of the kid's arm, annoyed that he stopped him. "Maria and Gen want to go back," Stan spoke with bright eyes.

Rubin looked up at the six children following him, "You can leave at any time. You followed me, remember." Rubin said in a hurry, anxious one of his pursuers would catch up with him.

"But we don't know how to get back."

"Just turn around. You'll be found eventually." Rubin didn't have time to waste.

Rubin turned back around, not bothering to watch the children leave. Three had ended up going back towards the town, although they had no idea how they would get there. They hesitated, not wanting to separate from the others. Still, in the end, after seeing Rubin and his last two followers disappear into the distance, they continued forward, back home, aimlessly.

Rubin didn't care much about what happened to them. This was it, why the town was closed off. Why the entirety of Crion was closed off from the world, Rubin was aware of possible danger, so he would only catch a glance from a distance, then run. All he wanted was to see what was keeping his town trapped. His curiosity only grew the darker it got, like an unquenchable thirst, it made him beg for answers.

Now he had completely forgotten about the remaining children behind him, he was sprinting forward at a speed the two children couldn't keep up with, and the adrenaline coursed through his soul. His legs were starting to go numb, and his lungs burned, but he was so close.

Rubin's sprinting went to a near halt, and the air left his body. He ambled through the underbrush, his head pulsating. In front of him was what he had sought, the wall keeping the entirety of Crion trapped. It could even be seen through the darkness of the forest.

"God."

Ahead of him was a massive undulating wall of nothing but pure blackness. The blackness wouldn't even be a word to describe it well; it was just nothing. It was the absence of matter, an empty abyss from another world. It moved like gas. Parts of the abyss floated out of the wall and back in like smoke. Some patches flowed like waves, and others nearly devoured trees but kept enough of the tree to make it visible. It looked viscous and smoky darkness with no blemishes. The wall stretched as far as Rubin could see and as high as he could tilt his head. A large portion of the wall bubbled, and shot out a large portion of smoky darkness. It slowly floated towards Rubin and the children close behind him.

Rubin took a step back, the stories he was told were all false, yet the messages behind them had been true. This was the work of pure evil, something no one should ever try to fight, or they would be consumed.

The two children that decided to follow him arrived shortly. They looked forward in awe and fear at the moving wall of darkness. It felt so alive.

Rubin was fearful, but he was also entranced. The wall's movement was so unique and strange that it demanded his attention. He couldn't look away. Neither could the two that followed him. They watched silently, the wall demanded all their attention, and they obediently obliged. Was that what Rubin wanted? Was this what he hoped to find? He did not know. The longer he looked at the wall, the less sure he was of his reasons for trying to find it and the more glad he was for finding it.

The wall slowly changed in Rubin's mind from something to be feared to something to admire. It was beautiful in a dark and distorted way as if millions of little limbs were working together in tandem. The soft sound of footsteps on soil shook Rubin and the other child, Isabelle, out of their reverie, Stan had made his way towards the wall of nothing.

"Stan, stop!" Rubin turned his head only to be pushed out of the way by a frenzied Groyle. The wall seemed to bubble and swim with greater intensity as Stan neared the wall, his eyes focused ahead of him. Groyle only heard about the wall of nothing. He had never seen it for himself, as traveling through the forest was forbidden under normal circumstances and for good reason. Not many knew what would happen if one went through the wall of nothing, but you would never come out, that was a certainty.

Rubin could only watch, frozen in shock, as Stan walked forward, only an arm away from the endless darkness. Dark smog floated out of the wall, curiously surrounding Stan's hand. Then it snapped, like the jaws of a python, it viciously bit down on Stan's hand. Stan felt no pain, yet he screamed, a miserable scream from someone who realized they might already be dead. It snaked up their wrists, slowly covering Stan's body in a blanket of darkness.

Groyle rushed in a hurry, he made it to Stan when the darkness was at his elbows. The darkness was dragging Stan towards itself. Stan was begging with tears to be let go, to be free. Stan anxiously tried to push himself back, but he wasn't strong enough. "Help me, help me, help, help." Stan sobbed as he was dragged forward, Stan did not understand what was happening, but he didn't want to resign to the wall's grasp. He didn't want to die. Stan was just a child, yet he could feel his mortality wane every second the abyss dragged him closer into its embrace.

Groyle grabbed his son by the waist in a hurry, he braced and began to pull back, but his groans and roars were not enough to save the boy. Groyle could feel his son's life slip between his hands, he was powerless, and his son would disappear before his eyes. He felt weak, like the years he poured into blacksmithing were pointless. The darkness consumed Stan's body.

With a sudden jolt and a muffled scream, Stan disappeared. Groyle kept on pulling back, unaware his son was already gone. Groyle fell back with only a ripped piece of cloth from Stan's shirt, tears welling up in his eyes, anger boiling in his chest.

Groyle sat up and attempted to bang on the wall, "Give me my son, damn you, give me my son!" Hate-filled cries slowly turned into mournful sobs. The wall did not take him. All it did was move silently above him, mocking him.

Isabelle and Rubin stood frozen in fear. Their sweat had run cold. Rubin's curiosity had been sedated but at the cost of a life.

"Groyle?" Reill, a priest from the Serenity Sanctum, pushed through vegetation and walked towards Groyle, noting the presence of the two children. He was working with Groyle and the others to find the children, and it looked like Groyle had been somewhat successful, at a cost. Reill had heard a child's wails and followed them to find Groyle grieving. Reill looked at the large wall of darkness and shivered. It felt too alive. He had never seen the wall up close before, it truly was the enemy of God.

Reill somberly made his way to Groyle, who was muttering something incoherent, trying to cope with the loss. Before Reill could reach Groyle, the sound of a baby's screams overtook the otherwise silent forest, reaching a volume greater than Groyle's sobs.

Reill, in confusion, looked towards the cries and saw a cradle near the wall of fog. Inside the fiber-woven cradle was a baby, the cradle and the baby seemingly appeared from nowhere. It was as if they came from the wall itself.

Reill curiously passed by the mourning Groyle and looked inside the cradle. A baby, with a head of ashen grey hair lay teary-eyed, screaming on an exotic quilt. 'A newborn," Reill gaped, ignoring the baby's screams, and focusing on its appearance. "Did it come from the darkness?" Reill examined the newborn boy. They had grey pupils to match their hair and weren't clothed. Where the baby came from was beyond comprehension.

"You!" Reill took his gaze away from the screaming baby and back to Groyle, who was back on his feat. He was glaring at Rubin. Who was stuck in place, unable to move, still trying to understand the situation. Isabelle walked backward, distancing herself.

"Me, me." Rubin stammered as Groyle headed towards Rubin with a furious gait.

"You led my son here." Groyle was stopped by Reill, who had run over, sensing a confrontation. "What are you doing? He killed my son." Groyle had regained some composure, but a deep hatred danced in his eyes. Groyle tried to push off Reill, but Reill whispered something into his ear. Groyle tensed, a complicated expression resting on his face, anger still in his fists. "You won't go unpunished for this, my son, and any others you may have killed. Their blood rests on your hands, boy."

Groyle ripped his arm away from Reill and stormed off, holding a small part of Stan's tunic. Reill watched Groyle leave somberly. He went over to pick up the still screaming child. "The church could use a new disciple." He said, looking deeply into the crying eyes of the child. Reill looked at the undulating wall one last time and said a small prayer, "Revium Rovsum."

More rustling could be heard from the nearby forest. A nearby Townsguard had heard the commotion. With body armor made of chainmail and leather and a hooded chain helmet, the Townsguard looked with terror and awe towards the living wall. He glanced at the frozen children and approached Reill, longsword in hand; their eyes were constantly watching the wall, assuming it would attack at any moment. The wall remained unresponsive to the current human presence.

"What happened?" The Townsguard acknowledged the insignia on the chest of Reill, signifying him as a priest.

"Not much. Let's talk about it indoors, somewhere where I can feed the hungry." Reill eyed the baby in the carriage he was holding. A baby from unknown origins and an undefined future, a child from nowhere.