Forgotten Memories

[Haunter 360]

No matter what happens, time continues to flow.
Not war, not plague, not famine, not death, can stop it. It always continues steadily, like an eternal stream… It seems slow and insignificant if you watch it, but turn your back on it, and you find that it’s flowed further than you expected.
However, in all honesty, time is simply not like a stream. It is deeper than the darkest depths, stronger than the ocean tide, and as impossible to touch as the first drop of rain in a raging storm.

As you can plainly see from this, it is easy to lose something forever, lost to the many folds of time itself. Acts of heroes become legends, legends become myths, and myths become mere folklore. However, some acts, which saved so many lives, are lost so quickly… For none remain to tell.

You will now hear one such lost tale.
A tale of a boy, and his destiny.

This story has no title.
It has no name.
It is simply
FORGOTTEN MEMORIES


The land of Hilen, was once beautiful.
It flowed with hilled plains of long, thick grass, which rippled like the sea, in the calming East winds. The grey clouds above swirled in patterns, breaking at times, to allow a shaft of pure, white sunlight, to bless the land’s inhabitants.
Frolicking in the grassy fields, beautiful, clear-skinned veeries lived their lives happily, their gentle amber eyes expressing such joy, as they searched for more hidden grass fruits, brought out only by the holy beams of the sun, talking to one another, via flaps of their colour-changing feathered wings.
Occasionally breaking the hilly plains of grass, were thick forests of golden-leaved trees, who sang who one another in delicate whispers of their leaves, in a way that made many believe that they were wise beings, ancient yet elegant followers of the light.

The people of Hilen were joyful, singing songs and playing harps, to the one who had sent them the light that blessed them so. From all surrounding regions, people visited the lands and the peoples, and in the process, became as joyful as the inhabitants themselves.

Hilen was an unblemished land of peace, where all were equal, from the most talented singer, to the smallest blade of grass. Gentle plains, the whispering trees of the forest, the calming winds from the East, the swirling ocean of clouds above, and the occasional glimpse of a light beyond, all kept this land in its peaceful state. The only form of death, was a peaceful passing, when time saw fit.
Peoples were comforted at these times though, by the knowledge that their beloved, were now in the more beautiful fields, beyond even the light above.
The land was tranquil, peaceful, and in a pure unity with all who came.

However, this was not to remain.
One day, trudging against the Eastern winds, came a man, from a region of the west.
He wore a suit of sharp, cruelly-carved metal, and wore large, clawed gauntlets. His face was young, and handsome, yet darkness seemed to seep from every pore of his pale, visible skin. His hair was black and spiked, and his eyes were a pale yellow. His bare arms seemed thin, but very strong.
All who came to greet their unexpected guest, were shocked – They had never seen a being like this before.

The mysterious figure told the people of Hilen of a troubles land to the West, where people suffered from darkness and despair, and requested their help.
The people, knowing only trust, agreed, and sent some of the wisest in Hilen, to aid this other region, which the figure referred to as Sephire.
However, those people never returned.

Three months after the figure had first arrived, the clouds turned darker than smoke.
All the people became afraid, and as they watched through terrified eyes, their beautiful home… Was torn apart.

The rays of the light above ceased to pierce the thickening darkness of the ocean of clouds, the grass withered and died, and the beautiful veeries fled the field, as if sensing something’s dark approach…
And they were correct.
For the one from Sephire returned.
Accompanied by vast numbers of beings, twisted into horrific forms by darkness, he enslaved the peaceful peoples of Hilen, and forced them to destroy their own beloved home, making them cut down the now-screaming forests, to build large weapons of war, and once the forests were gone, to cut through the elegant hills with tools for digging, whilst harvesting whatever could be used to build walls, armour, or more weapons. As they did so, the calming wind from the East, was replaced with a harsh and howling gale from the West.
The people of Hilen cried out in agony, as their tortures continued.
Many died from the effort and the intense beatings, and their bodies were fed to the horrific monstrosities, kept to be unleashed upon any who dared oppose the army.

Returning the dead region of Sephire, the betrayer erected himself a palace – The Tower of Malice. Sitting on his throne upon its peak, he announced his identity – Prince Tyralta, the conquerer of this world.


But not all hope had been lost.
One night, during a dark thunderstorm, a mysterious young boy crept into the quarters of the enslaved people of Hilen.
Revealing himself to be from the strong kingdom of Adalat, he told them of a vision. A vision of the future he had been tasked to give them, from one of great wisdom.
The vision was of a dark cloud, spreading across the sky, covering all in shadow.
Then, in a fashion only found in Hilen, a beam of light pierced the darkness, and the shadow dispersed.


The meaning was clear. A slave from Hilen, would end the reign of the tyrant, Tyralta.

Though the young boy was caught by the guards and imprisoned, his message left hope.
One would come, someday, and they would be free again…

[Deleted]

good intro haunter carry one i want to read more. Seems like a zeldaish story. Dark eing conquers the world and only one can save them. Hmm sitl li rekcon the path to it's rescue will be evry different and interesting to read.

[Haunter 360]

(Oh boy, you bet it's different. As a general though, Zelda follows a fairly fairy tale-ish storyline. This one, though the legend is similar, turns out... Very different.

This ain't gonna be a peaceful ride...)

----------

The crack of a whip and his own cry of pain woke him up.
“Stay active, scum! Keep these scaffolds secure!”
The guard holding the whip struck again, the spiked straps striking over his leg, tearing several rows of gouging deep wounds as it did so.
He cried out again, and limped for all he could to a joint in the scaffolds that looked weaker than the others, and began tightening the securing ropes.
The guard snorted, sending out a cloud of water vapour from its nostrils, before turning, and lurching away.

He thought as he tightened the ropes. It was a hobby. He thought of many things, whilst he drearily completed his tasks.
One of his favourite topics, was the thought of the promised one. The one who would save them all from the punishment, bestowed upon them by that evil prince. Another was less positive. What was taking the promised one so long?
A strong, Western wind blew, and he gritted his teeth in pain, as it blew dust and grit into his injury. The pain his people were in, was beyond comparison. They had to cut through their own hills, in a search for more metal and rock, which would in turn be used to make them more miserable. Either that, or they had to construct, through use of numerous scaffold structures, rock and wood, massive weapons of destruction, capable of ploughing through the strongest army with ease. They only had six hour’s worth of rest, and if they made just a small mistake…

“IDIOT!”
He froze. Had he done something wrong?
Then, he heard a frightened reply.
“N-No sir, I didn’t mean – I didn’t know-”
He turned, and saw that the guard he had previously encountered, was now towering over a fellow slave. Little more than fourteen years of age, this slave was still a mere boy… Though as he himself knew, such a factor would make little difference.
He peered round the guard, and at the mistake the boy had made. Tragically, the boy had forgotten to tie the scaffold tightly enough, and it had started to lean to the side… A definite hazard, if the scaffold had been left, for a strong gust of wind could have knocked it off, making it unstable.
Such a mistake, would not be forgiven.
The guard snorted, this time sending jets of water vapour from its nostrils, and took hold of the boy, hauling him into the air with a single large hand, and a muscular arm as thick as a tree trunk. The boy himself was dwarfed by such a massive brute, his clothes, like everyone else’s were mere rags, and he was incredibly thin and scrawny. His dirty, torn hair was a pale blonde, and his skin was frightfully pale.
The guard growled deeply as the boy choked and spluttered in its grasp.
“You have made a big mistake, scum. Now, you require a fitting punishment…”
A second guard showed up, who was all-too familiar to the slaves. The guard’s eyes glinted red, and it was covered all over its body with blood. The whip-wielding guard handed the boy over.
“Take him to the forbidden tunnels.”
The boy cried out in alarm, and wriggled, desperately trying to free himself, but to no avail. The blood-covered guard carried him away, to his doom.

He sighed, as he returned to his task of tightening the ropes around the scaffolding. Any who entered the forbidden tunnels, died a horrible fate. For those tunnels were home to such truly horrific monsters, that nightmares would be hard-pressed to keep up.
‘At least he’s going to be free from further beatings.’
He thought, tightening the ropes of the scaffolds.

A few minutes later, another guard showed up, shoving the replacement into place.
He turned, and gasped when he saw who it was.
“Kurra!”
His older sister turned to see who had called her, and gave a surprisingly cheerful smile.
“Hello Diek! Nice to see my little brother again…”
Diek smiled warmly, before it was wiped off his face with another lash of the whip.
“Work, scum!”
As the guard passed, Diek and Kurra leant to speak to one another.
“So Diek, are you okay? I mean, the guards haven’t been beating you too much, have they?”
Diek shook his head.
“No more beatings than usual, though I guess that they’re becoming more fond of whipping…”
His sister winced at this, but remained quiet as he spoke.
“Kurra… I don’t think that I can keep this up. I don’t think that I’m going to… Be able to take much more of this…”
He lowered his head, and sighed.
Kurra sighed also. She knew that at this rate, neither of his would make it. The fresh whip marks still leaked blood over the back of her tattered top.
Suddenly, her glum face, changed to one of horror.
“Diek! Your scaffold!”
Diek quickly looked up, and almost cried out, as the scaffold began to slip.
Grabbing it, he tugged, trying to get it back into place. Kurra joined him, and together, they pulled it back into place. However, as they did so, Diek’s foot slipped a bit, knocking down a pile of chains, used to hold heavier scaffolds together. The chains fell with a rattling, fell before the petrified, helpless eyes of Diek, and plummeted down, down, down, landing squarely on the head of a guard. Stunned for a moment, the guard stumbled, and fell to the ground, shaking the supports.
There was a brief, horrifying pause, before the guard hauled itself up, and looked up, narrowing its raging, beast-like yellow eyes onto Diek’s face.

Then, it roared.

[Deleted]

uh uh oh. UH OH

[Haunter 360]

(Another day, another update!)


----------

The blood-stained hands of the executioner flung them onto the grey, dusty ground. Diek looked up slowly, and gulped.
In front of them lay a long, dark and dank tunnel, twisting away eventually to the left. Kurra lifted herself off the ground, and hauled him up too.
He looked at her, his deep green eyes brimming with tears.
“You didn’t have to do that. You could still have had a chance for-”
Kurra giggled.
“A life of slavery? No thanks!”
She then smirked, still as cheerful as ever.
“I mean, that punch on the executioner’s nose was the most fun I’ve had since… Well. As far as I can remember.”
Her face then turned into more of a warm smile.
“Besides, someone has to stand against those evil monsters. If we can’t do it, no one can!”
Diek, still with tears in his eyes, sighed deeply.
“It isn’t going to make much difference now though. We’re both condemmed to death in these tunnels, and there’s no hope…”
Kurra sighed deeply. Then, quite quickly, her eyes lit up once more.
“Maybe there is still some.”
Diek gave her a despairing look.
“And that is?”
Her eyes remained bright.
“I heard, amongst the slaves, of someone who managed to get through these tunnels. Who managed to navigate through them, past the grita swarms, and out, climbing through an air vent!”
Diek paused.
“B-But how could WE complete such a task?”
Kurra smiled.
“We can at least try.”

They crept through the dank caverns and dusty passages of the bleak, grey forbidden tunnels carefully. The slightest sound could awaken the grita swarms that slept here. At one point, they even crawled around the edge of one of their nests.
Both had wrinkled their noses at the horrible smell of grita faeces, and the disgusting remnants of grita food – Those who had entered the tunnels previously.
The grita themselves, even in sleeping state, were horrific. Their tattered, unclean, shaggy coats were a dark shade of grey, and had a sort of deep green mould, growing amongst the hairs. Their short tails swayed and slithered like a snake, and their paws ended in massive, knife-sized claws, shaped like crescent moons. Occasionally, they would yawn, revealing their dark green tongues, and their numerous needle-like teeth, before closing off such features by closing their large jaws, and expelling a green-ish tinted form of water vapour. Though sleeping grita were appalling, they were said to be far worse awake. The bloodstains over their fur, teeth and claws, could tell you as much.

As they entered one room, Kurra gasped quietly.
“Diek, do you smell that?”
He gave her a puzzled look, and sniffed.
“No… What is it?”
She turned to him, eyes widened with excitement.
“It’s fresh air!”
He gave a sharp gasp, and sniffed again.
It was true! No more of that dank, stuffy stench of death, they could smell the outside!
“You’re right! We’re almost out!”
They then ran through the tunnel, following the fresh smell, before skidding to a stop in front of a pack of grita.
Their eyes widened in horror, as then, in front of them, one grita stirred, and sleepily turned, opening its bright yellow eyes, and saw them.

There was a pause, as horrified eyes and bewildered, confused eyes stared at one another. Then, the creature reared its head back, and roared.
Kurra’s hand slipped to take hold of Diek’s. Then, she looked at him.
“Run!”

[Deleted]

RUN RUN RUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN . RUN. oh wait they cna't hear me. GReta post.

[FlameMaster5]

WOW!


If I had 10 ten thumbs, they'd all be up for you! ^_^ Haunter, you're PAST any writer I've seen. On your own, you do even more fantastic than you do in the RPG stories. I am telling you now..BE AN AUTHOR. Everyone would love you. ^_^

I'll do my best to stay with you, ok? I might be busy, but I believe I can fit reading in my schedule. :] Terrific story and it's only just begun. And, as a writer myself, I know it'll only get BETTER.

I certainly hope Diek and Kurra make it through. I like them. They seem very close. Reminds me of my sister and me. ^_^

[Haunter 360]

(Heh, nice to see that you're into it Blaze!

Woah! Heh, nice to see that you like it so much FM5! I hope that you'll read with us, as the story continues...

Will Diek and Kurra make it through the Forbidden Tunnels? Keep reading to find out!)


-----------

They ran through the tunnels, hearts pounding in their chests. Behind them, more roars came from the awakening creatures, which echoed throughout the forbidden tunnels. Hopping over skeletons, they followed the scent of fresh air and freedom from the tunnels, hand-in-hand. Kurra looked at her younger brother as they ran.
“We haven’t much further now! I can almost FEEL the freedom! The guards will think that we’re dead, so we can get out of Hilen! We’re going to escape! We’re going to be free! Free from these tunnels, free from slavery, completely free!”
They couldn’t help but laugh out loud at such a wonderful prospect. Freedom…
However, a particularly angered roar from behind reminded them of the monsters, and for that matter, how the monsters were gaining on them. Behind, the grita pounded through the tunnels, their muscular legs almost throwing them forward. Freedom was close, but so was death.

Then, up ahead, Kurra and Diek saw it. A rocky wall, too steep for the grita, but after the scaffolds, slaves like them would have no difficulty in climbing it to freedom.
Running up to it, Kurra turned. And gasped.
The grita were fast approaching, needle-pointed fangs bared, yellow eyes glinting with cruel hunger.
To her, it seemed as if time had slowed to a near-stop.
The grita were tearing toward them, at a rate that meant they would catch up with the slaves as they climbed, and would still be able to jump, and pluck them from the rocky wall.
Diek now was on the wall, and had turned, confused.

Time returning to normal, Kurra nodded.
“Climb Diek.”
When Diek saw her eyes, he felt a shadow cover him. Her bright emerald eyes were burning fiercely, and tears were flowing freely.
In her right hand, she held the large leg bone of a previous slave.
He shook his head.
“Kurra, don’t-”
She then narrowed her eyes.
“Diek, climb now! And… Just enjoy your freedom, okay?”
She then turned her back to him, her Autumn-gold hair swaying behind her. Gritting his teeth, with tears running down his cheeks, Diek climbed the wall.

Kurra glared as the grita approached. In fact, about two metres in front of her, the ones at the front stopped, leading to a pile-up behind.
The front grita gave her a confused look. She stood there, armed only with a bone, yet with eyes that made part of it afraid, made it quiver. It was indecisive – Was there more of them? Was this more than it appeared?
Finally, it decided on the best option it had.
Fangs bared in an open-mouthed snarl, the grita launched itself onto Kurra, followed by the rest of its pack.

Diek cried as he climbed, his tears falling and hitting the normally-dusty ground below, which had now been wettened with innocent blood.

[FlameMaster5]

You know...I had a feeling that would happen. Even when I posted last time, I felt it coming. Oh..I want to cry right now!

Awww...Diek must be heartbroken! I am too!! I'm the younger child, I have a big sister. I know I would be devastated too...

Ok...
Please go on... But, man, that's sad!! :'[

[Haunter 360]

(Yeah, this is a pretty tragic scene in the story, pretty early on too. Nice to see ya thought it was good FM5! And... The fact you want to read more is promising! Heh, but, I have limited already-written stuff, so I gotta post the next part tomorrow. Sorry!

But yeah, that bit always gets me sad too. I was near-tears writing it! But at least she died a hero's death - And she won't be forgotten in this story, either)

[Deleted]

hmmmm interesting sad but interesting

[Haunter 360]

(Well, now that I've successfully made you both depressed, I will continue the story. Heh)


----------

As he reached the top of the wall, he found himself in an open cavern. And there it was.
The smoky skies, the dark grey dusty ground, the mass of slaves, the machines of destruction. He was back in Hilen, but could now escape. He could now get out, and taste the freedom he had been born without…
But to Diek, it seemed a pitiful reward for the price paid.
Holding his head in his hands, he wept.
Suddenly, he heard something.
“Hmm… You’re definitely shorter than I thought ya’d be…”
Diek gasped, and lifted his head. There was someone else here! He spun around, to see… A slave?
The person was an adult male of medium height. He had obviously been dejected somehow, having a messy, tattered beard, thin malnourished limbs, and ragged clothes of an unknown origin. He had bright, aqua-blue eyes with seemed to stare straight through to Diek’s brain, and had a large grin, revealing the person’s decayed and gap-filled teeth.
Diek edged back, before realising that the only thing behind him was the hole leading down to the aptly-named forbidden tunnels again.
The previous cave inhabitant gave him a puzzled look.
“What’s wrong? Did somethin’ scare ya?”
He then suddenly burst into hysterics, as if this were some sort of amusing joke. Diek glared at him. He was obviously some slave, driven mad by the labour, death, and overall darkness of the plains of Hilen. But currently, Diek was not in the mood to feel sorry for others.
Diek sat again, turning his back to the lunatic.
“Go away.”
The young man stopped his laughing and tilted his head, as he looked over Diek.
Diek must have been more than he appeared to be, if he had gotten through the forbidden tunnels alive. Diek was only a boy, about twelve years old. He was malnourished, as were all the people in Hilen, and covered in scars, cuts, bruises and wounds, old and new. His skin was ghostly pale, and he wore rags, sown to make a top and shorts. His hair was a deep, dark red, and his eyes were dark green… And now that he looked more carefully, filled with a pain he had never known.
Though the boy wasn’t crying, it was obvious that he was far beyond sad. His eyes had simply run out of tears.

The young man paused.
“Did you… Lose someone?”
His voice was quieter now, and more gentle.
Diek nodded silently.
The man bit his lip. The boy was so young… Such tasks ahead of him… So many more pains, likely to come.
“Who?”
Diek’s shoulders trembled as he spoke, in a shaky voice.
“M-My older sist-ter… Kurra…”
Then, he began sobbing, shedding more dry tears. The occupant of the cave, not knowing what to do, patted Diek on the shoulder.

For quite a while, there was silence. Really, nothing could be said. Someone had died, now was a time for grieving, not talking.
Finally, the occupant broke the silence.
“So… What’s ya name?”
Diek slowly looked at him, making a face that read ‘Are you serious?’ quite plainly. However, he did speak.
“My n-name is Diek… What’s yours?”
The occupant gave a small smile. At least they had managed to converse.
“Gelu. I think. I’ve been here some time…”
Diek’s eyes widened in shock.
“Gelu? But… That’s the name of the one who-”
Gelu smiled brightly.
“Delivered the message? Yes, that’s me!”
He then looked up, as if above him, the cave roof was replaying scenes of long ago.
“I carried the royal message of Queen Tilah, in secret, to the slaves of Hilen. A message of hope. Of one to come, and save this world from darkness…”
Diek nodded, finally starting to cheer up, now that his mind was briefly off what had just happened.
“And you delivered that message, and gave us hope again. But then you got caught by the guards… We had all thought that you had been thrown into jail!”
The once-messenger then looked glum.
“That’s what the guards told you. They feared that if you learnt of what they’d really done, word would reach the kingdom of Adalat… Posing difficulties on behalf of your slavers.”
Gelu felt the horrible scar of his back.
“Truth is, they tortured me. Before throwing me into the grita nests. I escaped, just about, and… Stayed here.”
Diek gave a puzzled look.
“Why?”
The man then smiled.
“So that I could wait for the one who was destined to save all the lands from the darkness of Prince Tyralta, and give us light again!”
He then chuckled slightly, bright blue eyes flashing.
“And now, the wait’s over.”

Diek paused. Then, he glared at Gelu.
“Okay, you had me. I almost thought you weren’t an escaped lunatic slave. Now leave me alone.”
Wiping his dry eyes, Diek stepped around the young adult, and began to leave, when a slightly unfamiliar voice spoke behind him.
“I am not a lunatic.”
This voice was different. Less dry-throated and light-hearted. Instead, it was deeper… In depth, as well as tone. It was… Peaceful. Sort of like the voice of some of the older and wiser slaves. Yet, it flowed with life… Fresh life, like a trickling stream, or growing plants in a distant forest…
Things Diek had never known before.
Diek spun around, bewildered.
“W-What did you say?”
The one he had recently regarded as a mere lunatic, stood frighteningly tall, and with more firmness than the cave walls around them. His bright blue eyes now stared straight through Diek, and his face was serious.
Diek couldn’t help but shiver.
Gelu folded his arms.”
“I appreciate what you have been through. The pain, the loss, the agony, the despair… But Kurra gave herself up for you.
You should therefore believe me when I tell you who you truly are. You are the one, chosen by destiny, to pierce the darkness with light. To reject your destiny, is to make your sister’s sacrifice a waste.”
Before Diek could say anything, the royal messenger nodded.
“Yes, I know about what happened. I have seen what happened, and where you are to turn next. I am no mere messenger. I am the personal messenger of Tilah, the queen of the kingdom of Adalat. Before that, I was an apprentice to a nature observer, and I am trained.”
He held out his palm, and an orb of green light appearance, floating in the air. In its centre, was a small seed. Rapidly, to Diek’s amazement, the seed grew into a blue flower.
Gelu closed his eyes.
“Diek, do not underestimate me. I am an ally, to the one who is to free the land from Tyralta’s clutches, as are many others. However, I will not be your ally until you accept your destiny.”
The royal messenger of Adalat then opened his bright blue eyes.
“You can deny your destiny, and doom the lands to an eternal darkness… Or, you can accept your destiny, and begin a journey, that will end with the destruction of Prince Tyralta. The choice is yours. Will you doom the world, or save it?”
Diek stared at him.
Then, he swallowed.
“Can I talk to my mother before leaving?”

[Deleted]

hmm so he's the hero. i thought so

[FlameMaster5]

I didn't assume anything, so that post was a great surprise. ^_^ I love it! Heehee, I like the crazy "lunatics" in stories. They ALWAYS turn out to be really good people - like in the movie "The Count of Monte Cristo" or something. ^_^


Continue when you wish, Haunter. We'll be right here waiting patiently. Great story! I'm obsessed all ready! XD *laughs*

[Haunter 360]

(You seen dat film too?! Woah...


Heh, and yeah, I liked that guy in it too. He was my favourite...

Then again, he was pretty much the only character I liked.
Anyhow! Time to continue! Haha!)


----------

The slave camp was situated in the shadow of a large hill. As like all of the once-beautiful land of Hilen, the ground was dead, dark grey and dusty. The camp itself compromised of a randomly-strewn assortment of huts and tent, and was patrolled by one or two guards.
As they quietly ran through its alleys Diek’s mind raced over what Gelu had told him. How could he, of all people, save the world? It was just impossible to comprehend…
Ducking behind a small hut as a guard passed, the two made their way to the tent of Diek’s family. Straining his ears, Diek heard… Sobbing. Such a sound brought tears to his eyes once more, as he remembered Kurra.
Holding his breath, he pulled open the flap of the tent, and crawled in.
He was greeted with a family’s worth of stares.
They were all there, his grandfather, a scrawny man with his balding scalp, grey beard, and twinkling brown eyes, his Aunt Junava, who was too thin to be healthy, with untamed, tangled, dark red hair, like Diek’s, and piercing eyes of a deep blue, and then his father, who was quite strongly-built, (For manual labours) had smooth brown hair, and unnervingly dim brown eyes… As if they had lost all hope. Finally, there, crying so much that she hadn’t noticed him, was his mother. She had long, pale, Autumn-gold hair, and ghostly pale skin.
There was only one family member missing… And she would not enter the tent again.
He bit his lip.
“H-Hello…”
His mother spun around, and her deep green eyes widened. Suddenly, Diek found himself in the midst of a tight hug.
“Diek! I heard that they-! I thought-! I feared-! Oh Diek!”
He felt her tears wetting his cold shoulders, and attempted to hold the tears in himself.
His mother then broke the hug, and looked at him.
“What happened? How did you escape the forbidden tunnels, and the grita? And where’s Kurra?”
Diek bit his lip, before breaking down into tears again.

Later, Gelu nodded in reply.
“I am certain. This boy, Diek, is destined to free you, your fellow prisoners, and in fact everyone in the world.”
Diek’s grandfather nodded slowly.
“So… Diek is our final hope?”
The messenger nodded.
“You are correct.”
Diek’s father wore a grim face.
“You firmly believe that one slave boy, can overcome the entire forces of darkness that Tyralta controls, in order to free the people of Hilen and bring back the light?”
Gelu then shook his head.
“No. He can free the people of the entire WORLD and bring back the light. However, his destiny is not a lone destiny.”
Auntie Junava gave him a puzzled look.
“What do you mean?”
He smiled.
“He is destined to meet others. Other people from other lands, whose destinies intertwine with his. They shall aid him as he travels.”
Diek’s mother hugged her son close, her face concerned.
“He is only twelve years of age! Will he be safe?”
The messenger smiled.
“I shall make it my duty to protect him. With my life.”
Diek’s mother still didn’t look persuaded, but Auntie Junava patted her on the shoulder.
“It’s for the best if we let him undertake such a quest. After all…”
She paused as a flash of lightning struck outside, its purple-glowing energy crackling through the clouds for a couple of seconds later.
“… Anywhere is better than this. Think about it. Even if it is all for nought, at least Diek will have already known freedom. He’s been born a slave. Don’t let him die a slave.”
Diek’s mother swallowed. Then, teary-eyed, she nodded.

Hugging his mother one last time, Diek left the tent with Gelu. Sobbing, his mother watched, as her son crept out of the camp, hope in his heart, ready for whatever he would face. Her child would be okay, she knew that. But she would truly miss him.