A memory. A memory from the distant past but clear as spring water. A smell that the boy loved, from a place he loved. The smell of books, the smell of a library. The boy in question had his entire face buried into the book, proof of how much he loved reading.
“Is it that good?" The woman next to him asks as she looks at the boy with affection
The boy nods as he keeps walking next to the woman. The child's pace suddenly increases as the amount of his attention grabbed by the book increases. The book seemed to have taken an intense turn. Suddenly, the boy is strongly pulled backwards as a vehicule passes right in front of him
“Mom...” The boy said while looking at his mom
The mother sighs as she looks at her son with a smile
“You tend to get sucked into the book and that’s not bad.” She says while talking calmly. “However, you must remember that you are not the only thing in the world and stay aware of your surroundings.
The boy nods. She exhales and pats the head of her son with affection
“I can’t help but be worried. This habit of yours could get you in serious trouble one day.” She says with after scoffing
It was a memory that was deeply ingrained into the boy’s mind. A memory with a clear warning. A warning from his loving mother who warned him about the possible consequences of one of his bad habits. A warning that would have prevented the current situation should it have been heeded.
“That’s why you should always listen to your parents.” The boy says as he inspects his light ebony skin for injuries
The boy raises his head and gazes upon the unbelievable scenery that lay before his eyes. An unbelievably empty plain with a clear blue sky devoid of clouds. Along with his headset that was on his neck from which music could be heard, a book lay next to him on the ground with a backpack. Obviously, the boy had gotten himself in a seemingly bad situation because of the very same bad habit which his mother warned him about in that memory he just remembered. While his habit remained unchanged or maybe worse, the three years that had passed since that memory had slightly changed the boy’s body. He had grown a bit taller, his purple hair had grown longer, and his face had started to show the signs of puberty. Whether it was the sharper jawline or how definite his body had become. The boy got up and patted down his black jeans to get rid of the dirt, he then picked up his book and placed it back in his backpack. He looks at his bright white shoes and notices a bit of dirt which seems to irk him a bit. He then pats down his grey hoodie and looks at the ring on his ring finger. The pitch-black ring obviously held an incredible amount of importance to the boy seeing as he was relieved that it was completely unharmed.
*SCREAM*
The boy calmly looks up as he hears a deafening scream resonating throughout the place. He sighs as he runs his hand through his hair as he looks at the beast roaming the sky above him. The beast in question had wings for arms which had claws at their top. A body covered in grey scales. Its stomach was made of thinner and larger beige scales. Blood red was the color of its eyes along with extremely sharp pupils. What stood above the boy was a creature that he would often read about in the diverse genre that he read. A creature known as a wyvern. A creature that is also known as kin of the dragon race. As he looked upon the roaming in the sky, the boy had reached a conclusion
“Out of all the Historia’s that exists, I just had to enter one of the dragon kind.” He says with frustration and calmness. “This is getting troublesome.”
The wyvern, which was up in the air trying to determine whether the creature that his eyes had laid upon was something it could make a meal out of, had now decided to hunt. It dives down at a remarkable speed with its mouth wide open, ready to gobble up its prey. However, the boy was no idiot. As soon as the wyvern had begun to dive, he had already started moving. He leaps to the side and by a hair breath, manages to dodge the wyvern attack. The wyvern crashing onto the ground creates powerful gusts of wind and dust. The boy uses a wall of rocks as cover and completely unloads his backpack on the ground. The items within the bags were truly shocking, as they were not some that a boy his age should carry around. A thigh belt which had seven combat knives on and another belt, a waist belt, with two black handguns on each side. He takes out both belts and quickly puts them on.
“I never thought I would need them one day.” The boy says as he quickly put the belts on with an annoyed expression. One that easily gives away that an opportunity many would kill for was something he had absolutely no interest in. “The only way to leave an Historia is by clearing it.”
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Just as he finished tightening his waist belt, the wyvern appeared behind the wall of rock with its mouth open. A few seconds before the wyvern’s mouth closes and swallows up a part of the wall, the boy quickly dodged by leaping to the side. Right before he leaped, the boy had dropped something on the ground. A medium sized black ball that suddenly starts to emit smoke till it blows up and creates a smoke screen. The wyvern swings his wing through the smoke to hit the boy, but the boy had already moved as he had anticipated that very action. While the wyvern swinged its wing, the boy took the opportunity to use two combat knives and slash the wing four times. In pain, the wyvern lets out a scream of pain and anger. In a frenzy, the wyvern starts to swing both of its wings around. The boy had already backed away and shot the wyvern in the eye after taking out a handgun from its holster. Once more, the wyvern screams in pain. This time the wyvern decides to take things into his territory, the air. So, it tries to take off but the injury on its wing makes it impossible to take flight and so it remains on the ground. The boy continues to run around in the smoke and continues to shoot at the wyvern’s body in vain due to the beast’s scales. In frustration, the beast flaps its wings and clears up the smoke
*SHIIIK*
The sound of a knife piercing and lodging itself into the wyvern’s stomach. The attack came from under it. The stomach of a wyvern is where the scales are lighter in color but more importantly, thinner. In other words, the only place where the combat knife can cause damage. The wyvern uses its talon to trap the boy
“Damn it!” The boy says as he tries to free himself
The beast had a smirk on its face. It was going to make sure that the boy suffered for all the injuries he caused. The mere thought of the boy's painful screams made the beast giggle in amusement. So, it slowly tightened its grip over the boy’s body and its claws started to leave their marks. As the boy’s blood started to drip onto the ground. In pain and with teeth clenched, the boy took out a knife from his belt and stabbed one of the wyvern’s claws. The result of that was meaningless as only the knife broke. The boy continued to repeat the same action. Continuously stabbing the same spot on the claw until only two knives remained. When he swung the third knife, the claw finally broke but the wyvern was now done playing with its meal, so it dives to take a bite, but the boy stabs its other eye with the broken claw. He retrieves the claw and stabs the wyvern’s neck with it. The beast quickly raised its neck due to the pain and the boy who hadn’t let go of the claw, is also lifted.
“Shit!” He said as his grip over the claw starts to slip
In a stroke of luck, the wyvern stumbles and starts to its back. The boy didn’t waste this chance, he used the momentum of the fall to raise and push the claw in by using his weight.
*BOOOM*
The sound of the wyvern landing on its back. With that, a strong silence settles in, one that is broken in a few seconds by the boy’s labored breathing. The boy pushes the wing that was on him and sits down on the wyvern’s stomach. The bright red blood of the beast had soaked his hair and clothes. He runs his hand through his purple hair tainted by the beast’s blood as he slowly regulates his breathing
“I hate Historia’s.” he says while glaring
Once his breath had gone back to normal, the boy jumped down from the wyvern’s body. He then pulls out the claw from its neck and uses it to break all the other ones. By using the two remaining knives, he sharpens a claw and manages to make it look like a knife. He uses that very claw to do the same thing to the nine others. He puts seven on his thigh belt and two he keeps in his hands. Behind the boy, shortly after he killed the wyvern, a door had appeared. The boy stares at it for a little bit then approaches the wyvern’s body, proceeds to butcher it and eat after creating a fire with rocks and some of the paper in his sheets in his backpack
“I wanted to avoid this situation.” The boy says as he stares into the dancing fire. “Once you enter an Historia, the only way out is to clear it.” He says again
He turns and stares at the door
“How much more trials?” The boy says out loud as he lies on the ground. “How much more do I need to go through?”
The boy closed his eyes as he slowly fell asleep pondering on that question. No injuries. When he woke up, the boy’s body was devoid of injuries. Almost as if the battle where he almost lost his life had never happened in the first place. Oddly enough, the boy looked over his body with no surprise. It seemed like that rapid healing wasn't something unusual or new to his eyes. He got up and walked to the humongous steel door standing tall in the middle of the space he was currently in. He places both hands, one on each half, and pushes it open. A blinding light strikes, forcing his eyes close
“Wind?” The boy thought with his eyes closed
Once he opened his eyes, he was welcomed to an incredible sight. A grey sky, clouds blocking the sunlight, and powerful wind that keeps building up. There was no doubt about it, the boy was now in the middle of a storm
“Is this some kind of joke?” He says while looking in front of him
Before him, wind was gathering at a single focal point. It only took a few seconds for a towering tornado to form before the boy’s very own eyes. The worst part of it all was that wind was gathering at multiple other points and soon enough he would be surrounded by hundreds of those. He needed an answer. He needed to know what he was supposed to do to clear this floor, but the answer didn’t come. It seemed like finding that answer was also part of this trial