Book Four – Interlude – Part One – A World That Could Have Been

In the dead of night, when even the wind had stopped blowing and the plentiful leaves atop the healthy trees were at a standstill, a man dressed like a traveling nomad sat near an unbelievable crater. This landmark would come to be known as Lando’s Scar, a self-evident description that made sense considering it was a wound on the planet. Something this large and deep was impossible to exist or occur through natural means. Its sudden appearance could have only been rivaled by the mystery surrounding the fabled Lando’s Nail, a tower and underground labyrinth that stood tall and powerful in the heart of Adenaford. It stretched far beyond even where the clouds gathered, and some had even hypothesized that its bottom-most layer resided in the planet’s very core. But there was one mystery surrounding Lando’s Nail that was as old as Lando itself.

Was Adenaford constructed around Lando’s Nail? Or was Lando’s Nail built around Adenaford?

No one knew. And this crater was the same way. Other than four people, no one else in the world knew the truth of how the planet’s very surface was scarred beyond all disbelief. The unknown was frightening and scary, especially considering if whoever caused it could repeat the destructive miracle a second time.

And words couldn’t do it justice. Reports could inform someone about the crater, but the emotional impact of seeing something so inhumanly impossible with their own eyes couldn’t be compared.

In the end, the mere existence of the crater just proved that mortals—Humans and Demi-Humans—were just that. Mortals who had to live on the same planet as the monster who scornfully brutalized the very home they shared.

I’m finding it hard to catch my breath while sitting beside it. Even calling it a crater isn’t accurate. I don’t know if there is something to properly call it by… After a certain point, it’s as if light just ceases to be, or perhaps the darkness is so thick that even light can’t pierce it? How is it possible for there to be something that even the sun couldn’t illuminate?

And Servi… Even if she caused this…even if she had the power of a Goddess… How did she survive…? The energy needed to make something like this… I just can’t calculate just how much Skill Energy was required… Is… Does she not have a limit?

“No, I didn’t come here to theorize about its existence… The who, what, where, why, and how does not concern me…” spoke Canary’s Captain of the Guard. His voice was low, like the growl of an aged beast. The hand lying in the damp grass beside him came up to his face and rubbed his eyes. With a final exasperated sigh, he just continued to stare into the gaping abyss.

Fisher Jin was not alone in his expanded surroundings, even if he was wide awake at a time in which everyone else would have been asleep. During his three-day journey from Canary, he passed by many travelers who had all come to see this modern marvel of destruction for themselves. Quite a few of those were researchers for Keywater and Westera. They were disguised in clothing bought from Adenaford in order to fit in. And as if that wasn’t enough, these spies had forcibly trained to erase their accent, even going so far as to purposely disfigure or tan their skin to remove any traces of their former identity.

For the scale-bounding beings like Koena and Kobolds, there was a process to transfer scales from one to the other if they were the same size. It was almost like a transplant. One that was not recommended to be performed by anyone, but when national security was at risk... Sometimes, there just wasn't any other option.

Fisher wasn't knowledgeable about any of this because he had journeyed with a single goal in mind. He crossed his legs, scratched his knees, then looked to the left and right. No one was around him since it looked as if there was an unwritten rule to give those that traveled to the crater their privacy. He picked up the bag nearby and took out a cheap canteen of booze. Fisher rightly didn't know what was exactly in it because he wasn’t a drinker, but by the time he started back to Canary, it would be empty.

I can’t keep putting this off… The captain pulled up the brown, dusty hood on his cloak and took a deep breath. Perhaps it was instinct, but his hand went to the sword lying nearby, but then he pulled it back and took a second gasp of air. Even as the nerves tried to grip his lungs in a terrible grasp, preventing him from exhaling, he forged ahead the best he could.

“Sakdu… This is your grave, right? I suppose after all that I’ve done, it was only right for me to come visit.”

Gods, the words… They’re difficult and stubborn… And hard to pronounce… I would say I hope it’ll get easier, but that’s neither here nor there or something that’ll ever befall me. I have no choice but to tough it out. It was like his mouth had a concrete block in it, and he had to chisel what he wanted to say with his tongue. The mental imagery of a scene started came to fruition as his mouth became as dry as sand.

“Or maybe it wasn’t… All I do know is that I’m here to apologize. Really, that doesn't mean anything, does it? I’m here, and you’re there… And so is Roger… It hurts me to say this, but I don’t remember… I don’t remember causing him trouble, though I know I must’ve been responsible for draining him of his happiness… A sinful regret that’s been causing me no small amount of pain…

“But that’s not why I’m here. In your eyes, I was nothing but the most despicable monster—a being that only seemed to be alive to cause as much trouble as possible. And in a way, I was. But—no, I can’t go off-topic. I was trying to say that I didn’t come here to feel sorry for myself. No, I came here to close this chapter of my life…” Fisher stopped for a moment and took a swig of his canteen.

The clear liquid was strong, burning his tongue and inner cheeks with a ferocious sensation. It only continued when the damaging booze traveled down his throat and into his stomach, which was where the scorching was the most intense. His shaking hands stretched out over the crater as he poured out a sip or two.

“Or maybe that’s why I’m not here. I had something rehearsed in my mind, but that vanished when I saw the remains of your battle against Servi. Speaking of her, she doesn’t have this power now, but Momo mentioned that it isn’t out of the realm of possibility for Servi to have control over the dead…

“I wouldn’t dare to ask her to bring you back since you’ve hurt more than your fair share of people in your conquest against me. And if I were to pass on, I’d beg her not to revive me since I’m also full of sin. I don’t deserve a second chance at life.

“Even if you had abstained from hurting anyone, the moment you turned your sight to Momo sealed your fate. But your family… Mafi and Fia… They were innocent… Possibly the most innocent beings on the planet before…before I…attacked them. But if they had a chance… A chance to live the life I so brutally stolen from them… I hope—No, I don’t have the right to hope for anything anymore. But I can convince Servi to bring back your family and all of those innocents I slaughtered? Then yes, I’ll endure the struggle of an unhopeful man like me having hope.

“You know? During the walk here, I thought about something… What if I had chosen differently? Instead of using my sword to slaughter, why couldn’t I use my heart to listen? Your wife and daughter kept repeatedly asking if I was fine, if I was hungry, or if I was thirsty. They were ready to go the extra distance to see to it that I was safe—even offering me a roof over my head… But if I had accepted their kindness… We could’ve been brothers… Or I could have learned from you… Or even helped you because I’m from a farming village… And if life had still led me to Canary, where I met my wife Marissa, then your daughter and my children could have grown up together… Marissa once said we were destined to fall in love…and no matter what the choices I made, we would have always met…”

Fisher’s sight became blurry as his voice quivered with sadness. He didn’t even have the strength to hold his canteen anymore. The pain in his heart even eclipsed the happiness he felt when Meri and Mari took their first breath in this cruel, dangerous world. It was the very definition of negative emotion, and after throwing caution to the wind, he leaned back and screamed to the heavens.

He screamed he was sorry.

He screamed about all of his regrets.

He screamed the names of those he had so cruelly taken before their rightful time.

His lungs were shouting for him to stop—to take a second to breathe in before passing out from a lack of oxygen, but his mournful cries continued for another minute and a half.

The dizziness that assailed him didn’t compare at all to the damage he once inflicted upon a hundred little villages.

Nothing he could do in this life could ever compare to his reign of slaughter. A million lifetimes wouldn’t make up for the hurt he had caused.

When the air deep in his lungs had sputtered out from his teary mouth, he kept it open even as nothing else escaped. But from a couple hundreds of meters away, another wail had erupted from someone with similar pain in their heart. This new, unknown person confessed their sins, copying what Fisher had done. And after this person was finished, another followed suit.

And another…and another… There was a masculine voice, a feminine voice, a voice that was scruffy and deep, and one that sounded like a wet shoe rubbing against wood, but all of their tormented wails carried some sort of secret.

Exasperated, Fisher leaned back and slammed into the damp grass, his chest heaving for even a spot of oxygen. Mud splashed up around his cloak and onto his tunic, but he didn’t care. He fished around for his fallen canteen and drank about half of what was left, nearly choking in the process. The booze burned his throat something fierce, but the pain seemed to bring him back. He used a hand to support himself while listening to the confessing voices.

Then he scratched his chin and rubbed his head, and he finally poured the rest of his canteen into the gaping void before him.

“Arnold used to do something like this whenever someone from our old gang died. He called it ‘pouring one out,’ but I never really understood it. Until I met Marissa, I never really thought life had a meaning at all other than getting revenge. And becoming a father… Well, I suppose that was what jump-started the regret I’ve been feeling. When you have children, you want to be the perfect role model… I don’t ever want their memory of me to be tainted by my past, but I know that’s a dream that won’t ever come true. I don’t want to lie to my girls… Not about something so small as a lost toy or something as heavy as my sins… It honestly feels like Servi was the one that kickstarted me to really feel this way, even though it’s been lingering in my mind for a good while.

“You know, she had a grudge against me…For a very good reason, too.  I suppose it was her that put a little thought into my head.

“If she had justifiable anger towards me, then who else from my past will try to take revenge on me?

“And if Itarr wasn’t there to hold her back, there is a very high chance that I would’ve died that night. I don’t know how that would have affected her. Maybe nothing would have changed at all… Or maybe she would have skipped town… Even if I was dead, would you have still attacked Canary? I suppose you would have since my family was alive… Hey, would it be wrong for me to make a promise? One to you? From father to father? And husband to husband? And it’s not a promise… It’s more like a vow…

“Between you and I, there’s no telling just how many families we’ve torn apart in our separate acts of revenge…  There has to be hundreds... No, thousands of children we’ve left without parents or guardians. I’ve had this plan for an orphanage for a while, and Servi has agreed to pay for it. It does need a name, and I was wondering if I used your daughter’s name… She could live on as a symbol of protection for all the little orphans. Fia’s Orphanage… Or maybe Fia’s Protection? Fia’s Sanctuary? That sounds good to me, and I’d like to think you would have approved of it… Oh, and that’s not all.”

After taking a deep breath, Fisher licked his dry, chapped lips and continued to stress his vocal cords. By now, the series of confessions ranging all around the crater had died down, but that was only because he was too far away to hear. Within time, it would circulate back around to his left.

“I also promised Servi that I was going to work harder… Harder to be a man I can be proud of, harder to be a better husband for my wife, and harder to be the heroic figure of justice my daughters think me to be. But… I haven’t really done much… My promises were just hot air, but I swear I will change that!!! When I go back to Canary, I’ll head to the church. Not the one run by the bishop, but the one led by that Kobold. He seems like a good, honest man who only wishes to repay the kindness a traveling doctor had shown him… I figure if I want to start the path to being a better man, then I must confess my sins. Eventually, I wish to gather enough strength to tell my children my past

“But I’m not that strong yet…

“After that, I swear to do what I can to make Canary a place where everyone can live freely… Slavery has to go… It just has to… I can try to do what I can to get rid of it, but that’s going to be a strenuous task, but it is one I am prepared to take. You have the things that are legal, and there are things that are moral. As much as I try, I want to be the latter.

“I know I’m not a good man, Sakdu. Someone like me… There is really no forgiveness for what I’ve done. Even if Momo and Servi say they’ll forgive me until I can forgive myself, I just don’t think that day will ever come. Even after a thousand years, I’ll still have my regrets. Time can heal all wounds… I’ve heard that saying before, but I’ve always doubted its truthfulness.”

The heart-wrenching confessions that sped around the crater were starting to become audible again. He heard a mix of cries of forgiveness, the confessions of criminals, and even a marriage proposal. Whoever it was, though, Fisher wanted to believe the future union between the two lovers would be as strong and sturdy as nadrium.

Before he knew it, a small smile had formed on his mouth. He no longer sat with the rigidness of a captain, and his overall expression was one of comfort and relaxation.

“I really am proud of my daughters… Hell, I’m even learning from them. Every day, they’re telling me this Singi did this, or that Kobold this… And they even have a friend called Feral. He’s a Kobold, but they absolutely adore him. And you know, I’m happy their little hearts weren’t ravaged by false revenge like mine was. I’m sure every man wants their children to have a childhood better than theirs…”

Fisher took a deep breath and stood up. The mud he had been sitting in coated the back of his pants, but he really didn’t care. A sudden gust of wind attacked him from the front, causing his hood to fly back. The smile across his lips seemed to grow bigger and brighter. Did he think that the wind meant Sakdu agreed with him?

Once more, he looked down at the empty canteen and tossed it away. There wasn’t any more need for it. “I suppose this’ll be it, Sakdu. The nightmares I have might end, but the sadness won’t quit there. Instead, they’ll probably be filled with the world that could have been… World…” He pronounced that particular word over and over, trying to find a deeper meaning. Or perhaps a further definition.

What was the world? Was it the planet? When Marissa once called him ‘my world,’ did she believe him to him equal to one of the astral bodies that swam across the sea of stars?

“If…I ever do get the chance to make a world… Even as unlikely as that is, which isn’t saying anything considering a Goddess is living amongst us… I know I want to make a world of justice, fairness, and equality… If not to soothe my own pain, then to provide a peaceful world for my children—for all children—to grow up in. Goodbye, Sakdu. I don’t know what the afterlife is like, but if there is a hell... Then wait for me… The moment I pass on, and if we meet up, I promise you’ll have the chance to inflict your revenge upon me… I suppose that’s the least I can do… And that goes for the rest of the ones I’ve killed…”

Fisher gave a final nod to the crater, picked up his sword, and started to walk back to Canary. His soul wasn’t totally at peace, but it was close to it. For the first time in a while, in fact. His body felt like a weight had been lifted from his sore shoulders, but he knew not to think that much into it.

Purposely giving myself a pat on the back would ruin what I’ve just done. I didn’t do anything thankful… I just did what had to be done.

Fisher’s path was more of a shortcut as he trekked diagonally through the surrounding forest. It had been some time since the destructive battle, but wildlife was nowhere to be found. Even the creepy crawlies that patrolled the muddy soil had enough sense to seek refuge in a safer part of the forest. The fickle moonlight descended down through the trees, right past the densely packed leaves. He stared ahead with strong eyes that constantly searched all around. The gloved hand that gripped his sword did so with strength and skill that didn’t belong to him.

The journey here was mostly peaceful. The biggest obstacle was a hungry bear roaming around, but Fisher tossed some of the meat he had carried with him to distract the wandering beast. He could have effortlessly taken the ravenous ursine down should the need had arisen. Regardless, he was glad his weapon didn't have to taste any blood.

For the majority of the time, he was surrounded by tall trees and their thick leaves. Fisher preferred to sleep while up high, which lessened the chance of anyone sneaking up on him, but he was always a light sleeper. The meekest sound was enough to jolt him awake. But up high? He could relax a bit easier because most people never think to look above them unless absolutely necessary. More than that, though, he knew a shortcut that eliminated about ten hours from the trip, and it involved sticking to the forests.

The quickest way from A to B was a straight line, and that concept could be applied just about everywhere. With exceptions, of course. Fisher wouldn’t dare use this path if he had his wife or children with them because it involved climbing up a small cliff and hopping across a rushing river with very few stepping stones. That, and the aforementioned bears. And bandits. He couldn’t forget about them. Roving bands of violent misfits looking for a quick dupla were commonplace in the more remote parts of the world. Heading headfirst into a forest in the middle of night was a sure-fire way of dying.

But Fisher didn’t have that problem. It was likely the sudden appearance of the crater frightened any bandits into fleeing because whoever made it could have been nearby.

I am glad about that… There’s been too much death, lately.