The Artist

In a vast field with the mountain, the sounds of soldiers can be heard echoing in the canapé. Some yell and chat in a strange dialogue while fighting for their lives in these blooded socked lands while others cry out to their gods for help. These chants are often dwarfed by the large explosions that seem to go on for eternity.

Unlike modern wars these this is a war blades and spells. In the front line, some soldiers can be seen wilding strange glowing swords with rainbow-colored crystals embedded in hilts. These soldiers can be seen blazing across the battlefield at unimaginable speeds.

"MEN DONT YOU DEARE FALL BACK WE ARE THE KING'S SWORD HE IS JUST ONE MAN KNOW ADVANCE!" one of the commanders leading a large platoon of tropes advances toward a man dressed in a golden suit and a large black coat. With no effort, the man simply flicks his wrist sending the platoon flying back killing the men instantly.

"Any man can kill an insect let's see how you fear against God apostilles ow wise king of man ." says a large man wearing radiant white armor His face was covered with a golden helmet that had a lion design engraved upon it, and he wielded a large sword that looked like it could easily cut through even a largest of mountains. The blade was covered in a large black flame and far larger the even its wielder.

Behind the man stood six other people wearing similar weapons and all these blades were aimed at one man." I've ruled over this long since long before these so-called gods of yours still sucking milk from their mother's tit know that they've learned to crawl they think they can run me out of my lands preposterous. Know you seven think the power of an infant god can de defeat me."

"Ow wise king they are forces in this world far greater than even gods and greater still than you...Ask you 700 of your wife's and 300 concubines. BEFORE I LEFT THE CAPITAL THEY WHERE ALL BEGING ME FOR THE DEATH BUT THOSE FILTHY HORSE DONT DESERVE SUCH A KINDNESS!" yells the man at the front with a large sadistic grin reaching over from ear to ear.

Covered in the rain and the blood of the soldiers he'd just butchered then in the black coat remained still as if unaffected by what the man had said; he looked at the seven apostils in front of him and began a strange chant with each word he spoke the ground shook violently and even the clouds looked like they had cracked.

As the few surviving soldiers gazed helplessly at the sheer power of the man in front of them the only thought they could make was "RUN" unsure why they felt like the soldiers dropped their weapons and ran as fast as they could. "MEN DO NOT FEAR, THIS IS JUST A BLUFF HIS ALMOST OUT OF POWER ... DONT NOT DARE TURN YOUR BACK ON THE ENEMY." but not even the commander's word could sway these men it was as if a primal fear had taken them over.

." I ######### ##### ruler of all accept these sacrifices ..." then the man raised his hands as black ooze flowed out of his hand and rushed toward the escaping soldiers. The Ozzy moved wildly like a hungry predator chasing its first meal in months. As soon as the Oz appeared it disappeared leaving the battlefield bare with not even a single drop of blood to be seen.

"Thayer gone all of them are gone there no trance of life fore miles' on end. THE FUCK DID U DO ####### were are my men." Yells one of the seven apostles at the men ahead who simply ignores him and continues with his spell. "Ow wise king this is the end for you and your legacy for what you you have done here can never be justified. Some of those troops where yours know they gone is this what it means to be a king."

"Boy you do not know the bounds of my EGO..." says the man while a strange white mast begins to materialize on his face." No Father I do know it's your turn to meet mine. "Says the man and the golden armour as he removes his helmet coursing a similar mask to the man in black to appear.

Before the man in black could respond to the shock of seeing his son fighting for the enemy he realized that his body was hovering above him. *Thud* "What just happened "" The commander just decapitated him so easily " The other six apostles stare at the fallen head surprised as to what had just happened.

"Well that was anticlimactic you pack up his body and take him to the capital, This battle is done, "says one of the apostles." Did you hear what the commander said before he called the father he even used an EGO" " Hush this is not the time or place to be talking about this Now, help me with the corps." says a man while walking towards the body.

In a small rustic apartment decorated with moldy bricks and plastic flowers lives a woman.

As she lies on her cold wooden floors her alarm can be heard echoing through her tiny claustrophobic apartment.

But it seems the alarm chants fall on deaf ears as she remains sound asleep. It is about 5 o'clock in the early morning and the sun has begun to rise. For this is the end of a miserable night and the dawn of something new.

*Gasp! *As the sun is shin creeps closer and closer to her, she suddenly jumps out of bed in a cold sweat. As her body trembles in fear her hand instinctually goes to her neck, as if to remove something there.

As she hold her neak and realize that she'd had it was just a nightmare she takes a long sigh of relief. Over the past several days she's been having more and more nightmares. It is always the same dream and like clockwork she always checks her neck and sits in silence incumbent in a sense of melancholy.

However, she never remembers said dream about the feeling of loss and some bits of it.

And she always checks her naek when up.

With great gusto and speed, she gets up from the floor and reaches out for her phone lying ever so peacefully on her bed. As she picks it up she a couple of notifications. The first two were from her friend Nhor.

She had known her for most of her life, but they fell out of touch when Nhor's family moved to Korea due to her father's visa expiring. But they reconnected a year ago when Nhor moved back to South Africa to start her new life as a first-year college student.

The messages were ones of concern and worry.

{hey I heard bout your dad from the time please call me I'm worried}

{it has been over a week since we came back to school please message me, love u :-) }

This and many other messages from Nhor Filled her phone.

"Sorry sis." she got a sense of relief while reading all of Nhor's texts. But her sense of relief was short-lived as she glanced over to the second sender of the messages.

{One new message from Dad received 3 weeks ago} She stared at the voice message for a while, but she ended up just placing the phone back on the bed and sat in silence lost in thought.

After a couple of seconds of spacing out, she finally decided to head to her cramp shower that could barely fit even half a person and clean up.

With stiff yet deliberate movement she removes her layers of clothes exposing her pail's translucent skin. However, she was still covered in a small layer of badges covering her chest and left arm.

The was something strange about the badge on his left it was crudely fashioned and looked newer than the other ones. These bands were held to gather some tape and were not done by a doctor.

Before entering the show she glances over the mirror almost disappointed to see herself. Maybe it was the scars hidden but the badge that saddened her or maybe it was the mental one, either way, she didn't stare too long.

Before entering the shower she reached over to the sink and grabbed a pair of scissors. Then pulled on the edge of the chest-bound bandages. *Snip, Sinp*

As the dirty bandages fall she can finally get a proper look at her chest for the first time in three weeks. "Dr Wong was right most of the scars have healed, but not all should" she quietly mutters to herself while staring down at her body.

Looking at it now her body feels foreign. She slowly moves her hands over her chest to avoid her breasts. Her chest was covered in deep scars the result of stab wounds one might think.

From there she slowly and hesitantly reaches to her left arm. Her hand begins to shake before she even touches it. Before her nerves could get to her she quickly turned on the shower to distract herself.

"Come on out of sight out of mind." she quietly mutters to herself. While covering the mirror.

As she switches on the the shower the cold milky water flows over her frail almost fragile frame as it gradually warms up. Filling the room with pure white steam. While showering she refuses to remove her left bandage.

As the murky water washes drips down her body it turns into two shades. It first drips off as a light shade of brown and then finally red. After a couple of minutes and half a bottle of strawberry shampoo, she finally finished.

After a shower, the girl hurried to a stack of boxes stacked next to her door. From which she grabs a fresh pair of clothes.

When she had finished she was wearing long black boots accompanied by dark grey stalking. At the top, she wore a long knee-high jersey that was black with two white stripes.

She didn't wear any jewelry well unless you count bandages, but I don't it makes any fashion week. She wasn't a stylish person she had a general sense of style, but she did admire other more stylish individuals.

Her clothes were clean but once you looked closer you could tell how worn out they were. She wasn't well off in any sense, dead end job and study loan were waiting for her at the finish line of her college career.

But that dreadful future was better than staying in her hometown. It was the kind of small town where privacy was a myth and everyone knew everything about each other and they knew too much about her. Especially since the incident three weeks ago.

Fading into the background of someone else story was better than being the center of every pity and envy. No one ever remembers that random girl at the back but people always hate the IT girl.

Those who try too much fail the hardest. So she decided to put her life on autopilot and do the very minimum. Especially since she was studying criminal law like her father before.

But unlike him, she wasn't passionate about it. She was afraid of disappointing him so she just followed in his footsteps. Besides it was not like she was interested in studying something else she had no real hobbies or interests other than fashion and novels.

Once fully dressed she grabs her smartphone begs filled with notebooks and heads off to campus. She was unable to attend the first week of the new semester so she was a bit nervous.

As she walks out of her appointment locking it behind her she runs into a familiar face. "Miss Manager it's nice to..." *shhh*"No no tic's Madam child," says the old woman with a playful tone.

She was a very estranged old woman. She creped up the stairs slowly, but with a certain elegance as if she was walking on a red carpet. Prideful old thing she thought.

"ow well if it isn't my favorite redhead, ye look positively dreadful child!" said the woman with a curious look in her eye. "Is it that bad Madam Bello? ". "Yes, yes my child what brings you down, is the thought of going to school that tiring, or is this because of a man? " asks the Strang woman named Madam Bello with a mischievous grin on her face.

"A bite of both Madam but I don't think you can help me with this one," says the girl while rushing away from the overly friendly landlady, before she could interrogate her for more details. The girl didn't think much of her hair Madam Bello couldn't get enough of of those fiery locks.

"Chow know me sweet child and don't forget the rent Paree is calling for me to return! " says Madam with a boisterous tone as she creeps up the stairs to hassle the other tenets.

After a couple of minutes of walking, she'd finally arrived at the bus stop. Before she stood a tall man wearing a silk black suit with gold engravings. He wore a silver ring around his neck. His right hand was hidden in black leather gloves

His almost intimidating appearance was dulled by the light pink colored shoes he had on. Looking at him she could tell that he had good taste in clothing except for shoes anyway.

As she looked at him she got a strange sense of kinship about him as if the two had known each other.

He looked tired, under his cold blue eyes were lard bags. He had a scruffy unkempt bread with long dark hair, that was slit back with a ponytail.

He stood quite tall even while hunched over with one hand holding a blazing start. His sleeves were rolled exposing his bruised knuckles. The stench of cheap alcohol and cigars hovered around him.

He had a quite handsome face she thought to herself if only he took better care of himself. As if he could read her mind glanced over at her. The two stare intensely at each other.

"We...we have the same eyes" muttered the man while looking at her ex hailing some smoke in the process. She was a bit confused and didn't know how to respond to that.

"In what sense," she asked.

"I am quieter always have been one, and like me, you give off the scent of a person who's running from something?" Says the man while slowly approaching the woman. "What are you a dog!" she responds with a sarcastic tone

"I'm nothing like you, there's nothing I'm running... " Before she could tell him off her mind wandered to the thought of her father and that tragic night.

"We have the same eyes, the eyes of someone with nothing to believe in just going through the motion, existing but not living," says the man while clenching his fist and snuffing out his cigar.

"The eyes of a person who lakes both ambition and greed we want nothing just existing as a random character and random character B," says the man with a small smile on his face hiding a deep sadness.

"We lack power over our own lives so we resort to self-punishment to get even the smallest sense of control" She noticed him staring at her and awkwardly trying to cover up the bandages on her hand with her jersey. "You have the hand of an artist, steady and relaxed." He says while grabbing her hand exposing the bandages.

Surprised she tries to pull her hand away but his grip just gets tighter and tighter. "Stop that hurts jackass!" she tries to fight back to justify the injury buts loses the will to keep wearing this mask.

" Excuse me got Miss I carried away..." the finally lets her go and walks calmly away "I'm.. I'm nothing like your dream ambition I had it too but sometimes you need to wake up and leave your dream in bed. Couse at the end of the day life doesn't give a shit about you or your dreams. " yells the girl with a passion and sadness in her eye.

The man puts his hands into his pockets and walks off" You've got the hands of an artist don't let life smother away your greed, your ambition, and most importantly your left arm is not paper so don't draw on it find a proper canvas. After we are similar" says the man while walking away showing her his wounds just benth the gloves

Before she could process what had just happened the man was gone. Leaving her with many questions. She wondered who he was and how he knew about her hand. As she got up and gathered her thoughts she noticed a small object shinned from the corner of her eye it was as if it was calling out to her.

As her curiosity got the best of her she reached down to pick it up. What she saw was a small rowed object with two feathers at its sides and a spider web design at the center. As she looked at the object she saw a small glowing crystal at the bottom It had a strange colour and some righting on it She couldn't read any of it but one thing was for sure.

This Was a Dream Catcher.