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Road to Valhalla

My name is Seraph. In a world that is filled with magic, science and arts of unbelievable kinds, I'm relatively ordinary. But then I met them. A group of assassins that work the machines of the world behind closed curtains. And the most striking is their leader, the woman which is the greatest mystery in the world. Though to the world we are all dead, each of us has a story of their own. I wonder if I can find myself a home among these people who call themselves Valkyries and more importantly can I solve all the riddles that surround them?

Yuri_1784 · Fantasía
Sin suficientes valoraciones
217 Chs

Hometown

I lifted my foot which had just pulverized some burnt wood into the ground. The smell of that town was magnificent, like cooking hotpot on a rainy winter day. This piece of wood too, had once been a part of one of these vacant houses which harbored such hotpots.

I remembered the last town Azag had run dry, this one reminded me of the same thing. We were likely to find some skeletons or similar remains here too. However, unlike last time, the sight didn't unsettle me one bit. There weren't a lot of things that moved me like that anymore. I was following Chopper's lead, who didn't seem to bat an eye on small things like that. I figured he'd already seen what was there to see here.

Instead, he looked rather concerned about something else entirely. He turned to look at me more than once, as if searching for something. But when he wouldn't find it, he'd assume an annoyed look and look away. He never made any effort to hide his agitation. He was perhaps too preoccupied to try to conceal anything. In the end, I was the one that asked him out of curiosity.

"Something wrong?"

He shook his head.

"Then, Chopper-san, why are we just going in circles all around this town doing nothing? Isn't Azag supposed to be here?"

Chopper stopped and turned to me.

"What do you think about this town, kid?"

I looked about and shrugged. There wasn't anything that I particularly found interesting.

"Looks the same as last."

"Last what?"

I couldn't tell what he was getting at. I stared at him, somewhat confused and trying to figure him out. He sighed and approached me, placing his hand on my shoulder, looking straight at my face with a stern look.

"You don't remember?"

My silence was a reply in and of itself.

"Seraph", he squeezed my shoulder a little, "this is your hometown."

I was taken aback. As soon as he said those words, I realized he was right. This was indeed the place. Although I am now able to recall everything about the place, at that time I really hadn't been able to remember anything whatsoever. And even after Chopper reminded me, I couldn't understand when and how I'd come to forget my own home like this.

"Then...what about my home? Which one is it?"

Chopper stared at me emptily. I suppose it was a dilemma to him too.

"None", he answered shortly before pointing towards a nearby hill, "That's where it is."

I looked in the direction of the hill, trying to unravel any memories I may have had of the place. At least, I was sure of the fact that I did indeed have a home.

Chopper said that Azag wouldn't have made that far yet, although it was likely the place where he'd be going next. He looked somewhat grim as he said that. He certainly wasn't happy about me having forgotten about my home.

"Dammit, what am I supposed to tell her now?", I heard him mutter to himself, looking rather frustrated.

Regardless, we decided to continue on towards the hill. Chopper seemed to be having second thoughts about going further, I could tell something was dreadfully pulling on his mind. He would turn back and look behind us every once in a while. He asked me if I smelled something, multiple times. My answer was always no.

I think I also saw a hint of scare in his demeanor, though I couldn't have been sure. He was deeply disturbed, a complete mess like I'd never found him. Finally, he refused to go further, just as we were at the foot of the hill. He kept looking behind us, at the trail we'd walked, at the sky and then occasionally at me.

I finally went to the trouble of asking.

"What is it?"

He breathed carefully, sweating profusely. It was only then that I realized he was thinking. He'd taken in every single thing there was, in the air, in the ground, in every single house that was burnt down in the town, in everything that moved and everything that stayed still. He'd been hearing and smelling and seeing all this time. And he'd made a discovery, a long time ago, but it was the next step that troubled him.

Finally, he spoke, glaring at me.

"This isn't real."