Forsaken

The world had abandoned him.

Left for dead.

Buried beneath the bodies of his mother, father and little sister- the man- The young man-Sprouted out his arm like a plant. Gasping for air.

Streaks of sunlight came through the rubble- the broken wood- and the broken world-

"Someone- anyone-"

Breathless.

Powerless.

But there was no one here. At least no one alive. Not anymore.

Two days ago- without a warning, something had fallen from the sky- flattening everything. 

Rumble!

Just as the family of four were having dinner- just at that time- the sky lit up- and so did half of the village.

Flint's, the young man's parents immediately covered both Flint and his sister; his mother cast a defensive spell as his father held up a shield. Both were former adventurers- and they knew a disaster when they saw one. But since they saw it- they could stop it.

Right?

Slosh!

Yet-

The house was obliterated and his parents fried just before his eyes- just like that.

He and his sister fell below the rubble- trapped…

Flint himself had third degree burns- barely holding onto his life. His sister had it worse…

"Flo-" His sister managed- before breathing her last. She was dying, yet she died with a smile. She died knowing… her brother was still alive. She died knowing… perhaps she'd at least get a proper burial, or was it just the whim of her decaying soul?

Flint saw it all.

He saw how his mother smiled for one last time-

He saw how his father groaned before going-

He saw his sister- crying for the very last time-

The light leaving from her eyes-

And though he wanted to scream.

Yet he couldn't.

Though he wanted to move his parent's dead cold bodies and come out of the debris- he couldn't.

He just-

Couldn't-

Even after two days: He couldn't.

'I'm I going to die like this?' Tears didn't roll.

They'd long dried up.

Words didn't come out.

There was nothing to say.

No one to say to.

And taking a breath was too much of an effort…

"Someone…" The voice barely came out.

"Anyone…" His eyes started closing…

'If I sleep now-'

Perhaps he'd never wake up again. And perhaps the pain would cease to be… Perhaps-

He'd never-

Flint was an apprentice. An apprentice Rune Knight.  He had a teacher- and according to that teacher, he was a natural. Fueled with pride in his abilities- he'd practiced more than anything else- and did win the praise of his father. But he wanted more, he wanted his acknowledgement, so he could finally be an adult. 

"You're too predictable son." His father would laugh… "But you're getting there…"

But now he'd never laugh again…

Flint would never be able to realize that dream.

Actually, he didn't have any desire now.

Not anymore-

"Damn!" Flint tried- but he couldn't move his father's corpse…

  It was too much of an effort.

Living was too much of an effort.

'Why-'

Why did this happen?

What did he ever do wrong?

What?

Was wanting a good life- a happy life- really a sin?

Did God punish him for wanting happiness?

Or was the devil jealous of his family?

Why?

Why did this have to happen to him?

'Who the fuck did this?'

Did he want to go down like this?

Was he just going to accept everything and die?

'No…'

Fire.

Fires of anguish-

Fires of desperation-

And fires… of rage. 

And yet, he was powerless. He was powerless to move the damn corpses he once called family. He was powerless to get up and- "SOMEONE!!!" Vocal chords almost torn-

Steps-

Flint's ears perked up. He heard something. Something in the distance- "Help!" He managed, not quite able to speak and yet- "Help!" The voice rose- though broken.

A sudden burst of warmth, a sudden burst of hope;

And though he couldn't move his parent's corpses. Though he couldn't move the debris- He shouted. Yet- the steps only got more and more distant.

"No-"

Hope replaced by dread- and then despair…  "NO!-" Screaming- His last shot-

Someone was here- And if he, Flint didn't get help now, he'd really die. And he'd never be able to avenge his family. He'd never be able to-

"NO!!!!" In a flash of a second, adrenaline and mana rushed through his veins for one final time- giving him a blue glow- as he blasted through the corpses and the debris- "Work! Move-!" He forced his body- he forced himself- almost bursting some veins- "OUT THE WAY!!!"

Clatter! Debris went flying, rumbles across the house space.

Infusion. Mana infusion- a unique technique of the Rune knight class. Used to make the physical body of a knight stronger for a limited period of time. 

Something- he'd never been able to achieve before.

It should have been a great achievement even during the later stages of his knight career. But that didn't matter-

He'd heard someone and- and as Flint stared around-

The runes. The runes of his village.

Not a single house- remained intact. Not a villager remained standing. Dead bodies- and the same smell. Burnt-

Death.

And in their midst- a woman. The sun behind her almost blinded Flint for a second but- A woman with blue hair- horns and red eyes. And a black coat. Demon. Flack demon. 

"You… did this?" Flint's voice seeped with anger- the blue aura still pouring out.

Reason didn't work.

He hadn't slept in two days-

He hadn't eaten in two days-

And he certainly hadn't stopped thinking-

Not just the aura- raw hostility poured out.

Along with the unbridled rage-

"I thought I heard a rat, but didn't think it was still capable of standing-" She turned his way. 

Symmetrical face, fair- beautiful.  Cold- melancholic almost. 

But- 

But Flint picked up a stone- and threw it- his arm immediately going numb as the glow ran out.

The stone crashed against the woman- or rather the barrier before the woman- being obliterated to pieces. She started walking. To Flint's way.

"Even if I had, what can you possibly do to me? Powerless rat?" Voice strong. Eyes, glaring.

Aura-

Death. 

"I'll kill you-" Flint fell head first- barely able to breathe. His body had gone through too much. "Even if it kills me… even if It…" Eyes closed- breath slowing… "Kills me…"

Flint- 

Had reached his limit.

The woman slouched down, checked for a pulse and threw a vial of red liquid on the man's body.

Sizzle-

And smoke-

The minor burns healed.

The horrible scrawny body and deep puncture wounds- did not. 

She poked him with a stick. "Hmmm…. More of a Roach than a Rat." That said, she picked him up- and carried him like a potato sack. "Smells like a Rat though-" She mumbled to herself, starting her walk.

"My-parents-" A voice came. "Bury-" 

Brows raised. "Weren't you going to kill me?" She shrugged. "Besides- they're dead. And so is the rest of your village. I'm sure they won't care if they rot above or below ground."

Flint wanted to say things- a lot of things-

If he left now-

If-

Reaching his hands out- 'Mothe-'

But for the final time of the day-

He passed out.

And this time-

Without the searing pain.

Yet- tears dripped out.