ivan
Morning arrived, and with it came the scorching heat of the sun, which offered no refuge in these flatlands. Despite that, the village was bustling with life, and the morning noise outside the house was what woke Ivan from dreams revolving around his mother. He rubbed his puffy eyes and headed to the bathroom to wash his face.
He felt a crushing loneliness he had never experienced before, filling his heart and engulfing the entire house. He couldn't bear to stay inside, so he went out, heading toward the forest to breathe some fresh air away from the stench of animal droppings and human waste. But on the way, five boys confronted him. Two were slightly taller than him, and three were about the same height. They surrounded him in a circle.
The tallest boy stepped forward, holding a stick in his hand, his face covered in scratches, and a wicked smile on his lips. He said, "Hey Ivan, do you remember me?"
Ivan looked at him with cold eyes, as if staring into emptiness, then replied in a calm and confident voice, "Yes, I remember. You're the guy I beat the crap out of last week. What was your name again? I forgot. How's your ass doing? Sorry, but I'm not in a good mood, and I don't want any trouble."
vid's face turned red with rage and he said, "Looks like your tongue is longer than you. I'll have to fix that and make them equal in length."
Ivan responded mockingly, stepping forward: "The only thing equal here is your brain and that pile of shit on the ground."
The four boys tried to hold back their laughter so they wouldn't anger vid, which only fueled his rage. He lunged at Ivan, swinging his stick hard toward his head, yelling, "You damn mutt, I won't forgive you. I'll smash your skull!"
Ivan managed to dodge the stick before it hit him, stepped back, and took a defensive stance. But he noticed one of the boys attacking from behind, so he kicked him backward, sending him crashing into the wall.
The other three boys stepped back a little, filled with fear, but vid's voice snapped them back as he shouted, "Don't be scared of him, you bastards! We outnumber him. he can't beat us all together!"
Ivan replied confidently, "Seems like you didn't learn from last time. Here you are making the same mistake again, except now you brought backup to fight for you. What a coward."
vid didn't bother responding this time. Instead, he grinned, revealing broken teeth, trying to provoke Ivan with his words: "I heard your mother died rotting in the house yesterday. My mom told me she was a witch who seduced men—turned friends into enemies. Even her husband couldn't stand her and ran off, and no one knows where. Who knows, maybe you're just a result of her lively social life."
Ivan couldn't hold himself back. The calm and cold demeanor turned into burning rage, reflected in his blue eyes, boiling like the sea. Before he knew it, he had hurled himself at vid, knocking him onto his back. He started pummeling his face with a barrage of punches until vid's face was swollen and covered in blood.
This was the first time vid had seen Ivan's fury. Ivan usually wore a mask of calm and fake confidence in front of others, always careful not to let their words affect him. But this time, vid was looking at someone else, someone full of emotion, desperate for release. His punches weren't those of a regular person, they were like a raging beast's.
vid lost consciousness after a flurry of punches that crushed his face, but his four friends quickly stepped in, grabbing Ivan by both arms and pinning him to the wall, landing several blows on him, blows that meant nothing to him.
One of the boys pulled a knife from his pocket and approached him with murder in his eyes, saying, "Now that your mom's dead, no one's going to ask about you. We can kill you right here and send you to her."
Ivan felt the seriousness of his words, and an involuntary fear arose within him. He looked at the boy approaching him and asked himself whether this fear was of death. Why was he still clinging to life despite having lost all meaning? His life hadn't been ideal, yet he didn't want to die. An old saying crossed his mind: "People prefer the pain they know over the unknown."
He tried to move his hands, but they were pinned down by three boys.
Before the boy could thrust his knife into Ivan's stomach, the ground beneath them shook violently, and from its depths emerged a massive monster, its height easily twice that of the village houses, maybe more.
It had razor-sharp limbs, so numerous they'd take a day to count, capable of tearing flesh apart in seconds. Its back was covered in a shield as hard as iron, and from the middle of its face protruded huge horns that occupied the space where eyes should've been. The other half of the face was filled with teeth as sharp as knives.
Ivan and the others raised their heads upward, sweat streaming down their stunned faces, to the point that breathing became difficult. They were catching glimpses of the first monster they'd ever seen in their lives, while stones rained down from the beast, crashing in every direction, destroying homes and everything nearby.
Ivan froze in place, like a stalk of wheat awaiting the reaper's sickle, unable to comprehend what his eyes were witnessing. Meanwhile, the other boys fled silently, carrying the unconscious vid with them.
The monster let out a deafening roar, its echo shattering window glass and ringing in Ivan's ears. And by the misfortune of this day, Ivan was the first one the monster sensed.
The beast swung one of its sharp limbs at Ivan, who jumped and rolled to the ground, his eyes fixed on the deep crater left behind by the strike. His heart was pounding fast—he had nearly been crushed.
He summoned what little strength was left in his legs and sprinted through the alleys of the village, his breath growing heavier with each step.
The monster crawled behind him, demolishing everything in its path, and unleashed a fiery projectile from its mouth, causing Ivan to lose balance from the force of the explosion's echo.
Ivan turned his face upward, the fear in his wrinkle-lined eyes reflecting the horror he felt. His throat dried up, and his blood froze in his veins as death appeared before him, manifested in its ugliest form, ready to claim his soul.
Ivan closed his eyes, surrendering to reality, as the monster's mouth flared like a raging volcano and spewed flames toward him. He disappeared inside them, as if reduced to ash.
But out of nowhere, a red-haired man appeared, dressed in black clothes. He sliced off the monster's protruding horns with ease, unfazed by its screams, then finished it by plunging his sword into its forehead, splitting it in half.
The red-haired man stood atop the monster, striking a victorious pose, his green eyes scanning left and right, taking in the destruction left in the monster's wake.
" Another failed mission. So many casualties, homes destroyed. If this keeps up, they might remove me from my position as squads leader." he said
Amid the sound of fires and villagers screaming, his ears picked up the harsh sound of coughing coming from behind him. His curiosity was piqued, someone had survived near the monster? He turned around to find the source of the sound, but the thick smoke made it difficult to see clearly.
Moments later, Ivan emerged from the black smoke, unable to stop coughing, his eyes bloodshot to the point where he couldn't keep them open.
Shock spread across the red-haired man's face when he saw Ivan coming out of the smoke. He muttered to himself: "How is this possible? I literally saw the monster roast him alive. Could it be that he's...?"
He focused his eyes on Ivan's face and gave a faint smile, then leapt toward him, saying:
Ivan was puzzled by the red-haired man's words, he didn't understand what he meant. Nothing made sense. From the moment he closed his eyes to when he reopened them, everything around him had changed.
He found the monster lying on the ground, smoke surrounding him, and a stranger he had never seen before spouting strange words.
The man extended his hand toward Ivan and said: "I see you're alright, little boy. I'm Foden, from the Ritters."
Ivan looked at him in confusion for a moment, then shook his hand and introduced himself:
foden replied with a sly smile forming on his face, "No need to thank me; I didn't save you; death just didn't find its way to you." He placed his hand on Ivan's shoulder and added, "Anyway, you seem alone. Why don't you join the Riters?"
Ivan was taken aback by the unexpected offer and said, pushing his hand off his shoulder, "It seems you know nothing about initiation." He sighed and continued, "I don't know why I keep meeting such strange people. An old man asking me to live with him, and now an
Foden interrupted his speech with a fake cough, then said, "First, I'm not an officer; I'm a squad leader. Second, the injured will be taken care of by the Sisters of the Dawn. Third, I don't usually invite anyone to join, but I see in you the traits of success."
Ivan let out a sarcastic laugh, saying, "Traits? I couldn't even run away, which is something humans have been doing since ancient times. I'm a failure at it! And you want me to take the Riters' test? You're seeking my death."
Foden felt that continuing the discussion was futile, so he concluded, "The test is in two months. If you decide to participate, we will be competitors. Your path to seeking power will find me as an obstacle; let's see if you can remove me."
Then, as if he had never been there, he suddenly disappeared into the air, leaving Ivan in a state of confusion, feeling a mix of frustration and curiosity.
Ivan stretched out on the green grass in the forest, with his hands behind his head, enjoying the shade of the giant tree whose branches extended towards the sky as if trying to touch it. This tree had something special about it, aside from being the oldest in the area. Its massive trunk was like a canvas, etched with the faces of a woman and a man, their features exquisitely detailed, as if the artist had imbued them with a living spirit.
Despite the age of the engraving, the details were clear, reflecting deep emotions and an ancient story. Beneath their faces were names carefully carved: "Fleiman" for the man and "Nada" for the woman. But what caught Ivan's attention was the third drawing that had been erased, as if someone had deliberately removed it, leaving behind an unsolved mystery.
Ivan wondered to himself about the story that might be behind these names and carvings. Who were Fleiman and Nada? What happened to the third person?
He raised his eyes to the sky, the surrounding trees partially blocking the blue sky from view, as he tried to fill his smoke-stained lungs with fresh air. The sounds of the flowing river reached his ears, washing away all the negative feelings he had experienced that day.
He had endured so much that day in this village that used to be dull to the point of boredom, but suddenly it had become noisy to the point of burning. The village used to be tinted yellow in the summer, but this time it had suddenly turned red, flowing through its alleys.
On his way, he saw the bodies of people whose heads had been crushed under the rubble, yet his heart was not kind enough to mourn for the deaths of people he did not know.
Ivan closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind and reflect on what the old man had said yesterday about living with him. Should he accept or refuse his invitation? There was something inside him urging him to accept the offer, as if whispering that this was a golden opportunity that wouldn't be repeated, and that he would miss it if he let it slip away. But his mind presented him with other possibilities, relating to a person who might be a deceiver trying to lure him into a trap.
He remembered his mother's saying, which embraced a single philosophy: mistrust. She made it the devil from which all misfortunes come, always saying, "Trust is a noose that one willingly ties around one's neck."
All these thoughts plunged him into a whirlpool of internal conflict until he felt like his brain was about to explode. He held his head with both hands and began to scratch his hair as he rolled over on his back and stomach, turning left and right. This was his special way of calming down and relieving tension. It wasn't a new habit; his mother had told him that he used to toss and turn a lot when he was an infant.
After hours of wandering, Ivan left the green forest, heading towards the cemetery where his mother's grave lay. The flowers he had picked from the wild herbs in the forest sparkled with their vibrant colors, but they were not enough to ease the heavy sadness crushing his heart. He felt that this visit would be different, as he would talk to her grave and have a one-sided conversation with his mother for the first time.
When he reached the grave, he gently placed the flowers on the stone, then bent slightly, as if trying to get closer to her spirit. He began to speak, his tone heavy with sadness: "Mom, I miss you. I miss your boring stories filled with lessons, those moments when you sat beside me, planting hope in my heart and killing my fears. Just one day has passed since your departure, yet so much has happened that is out of the ordinary."
He paused, as if the words were stumbling in his throat. "I think this village hates me and wants me to leave. It only tolerated me for your sake. Isn't everything that has happened a signal to me? What should I do? Tell me, I'm lost."
On his way back to the village, Ivan halted his steps when he spotted a strange man who was not from the village. He had unkempt black hair and emitted a foul stench akin to that of beasts. But what caught Ivan's attention most was the large nose that took up a significant part of his face.
The man was shouting and cursing loudly, directing his anger at someone from the Hybrids, who looked to be around Ivan's age. This person had small ears and a fox-like tail, with messy brown hair, while his face was not clearly visible. He appeared extremely exhausted, unable to stand on his feet due to the weight of the things they were carrying, while his skin was bruised from the beatings he had received, and his dirty clothes were full of holes.
Suddenly, the boy from the Hybrids fell to the ground, as if he had suffered a seizure, while the man shouted angrily, "Damn you, you bastard! Are you going to keep pretending to be sick? Get up, or I will break this stick over your head!"
Ivan felt contempt for this scene, his eyes reflecting deep displeasure. But the strange man, who noticed Ivan's gaze, shouted in a voice reminiscent of pig grunts, "What are you looking at, you little brat? Do you want to join him?"
Ivan continued on his way without responding; he had a strong desire to avoid any additional problems on this day. He had suffered enough.
As sunset approached, the sun slowly began to dip below the horizon, bidding farewell to the summer village on another hot day, perhaps hotter than the previous ones. They were fortunate that the beast's flames had not reached the fields; otherwise, there would have been nowhere for them to flee.
Ivan returned home, lost in thought, his eyes directed at the ground, so much so that he didn't notice the old man from the previous day who was standing in front of his house until he heard his voice: "Hey, kid, hello! What are you thinking about?"
Ivan was startled and inwardly terrified, so he began to stutter: "W, w, what? Is that you? You scared me! Where did you come from?"
The old man replied, leaning against the wall: "The right question is: where was your mind? Look at your face; it's full of scratches. Were you in a fight? What happened here? I left this village in one condition, and I found it in another."
Ivan opened the door to the house, saying, "I don't want to think about it." Then he paused for a moment before asking a strange question: "Old man, do you think life is fair?"
The old man was surprised by this strange, out-of-place question and said, "What makes you ask this random question?"
Ivan responded in a sad tone, "I don't know. Consider it a question from someone seeking the truth and loves knowledge."
The old man moved past Ivan into the house, where he sat in a nearly broken wooden chair. He crossed one leg over the other, lit a cigarette, and then looked at Ivan with eyes full of experience. "The only two things that are fair in this life are death and disease," he said, exhaling cigarette smoke into the air. "They know nothing about distinction, and they don't differentiate between big and small, human or amphibian, or hybrids."
He paused for a moment to savor some of the cigarette smoke and then added, "Do you know what creates justice among people besides morals? It's fear. Fear is an instinct that has a sensitivity to danger. You may find people following the law not because they are moral, but because they fear punishment. Those are the ones who turn into savages in times of hardship."
The old man paused for a moment, pondering whether what he said made sense before continuing. "The law represents to them a danger they must hide from. It restricts them and creates boundaries they cannot cross. Therefore, to become a just person, you need morality and fear. These two things, when combined, create a constraint that makes a person adhere to their principles, and thus they won't wrong others."
Ivan was deeply affected by the old man's words, for he immediately remembered his mother's talk, which always carried a strange and wonderful tone at once. He closed the door behind him and approached the old man, taking a chair to sit in front of him. Then he said with a smile, "Beautiful words; it seems you carry a lot of wisdom, old man."
The old man chuckled, his false teeth nearly falling out. "That's due to age, or perhaps because I'm wise," he replied proudly. Then he added seriously, "But wait a moment; we don't know each other's names yet. I'm van; you can call me Uncle van instead of the old man."
Uncle van extended his hand toward Ivan, who quickly responded, shaking it warmly. "I'm Ivan," he said, feeling somewhat relieved.
van smiled at him, ruffling his hair, saying, "Nice to meet you, little Ivan." But Ivan removed Uncle van's hand from his head, his face turning red with embarrassment as he said, "I'm not a kid!"
van replied with a grin, "And I'm not that old!"
Ivan involuntarily laughed at his comment, before adding cheerfully, "Although you know a lot, you don't realize that you can't enter people's homes without permission."
van's features shifted slightly, and he felt a mild tension as he stammered his words: "Well, I suppose you're right. You've got me this time."
But soon, the atmosphere of seriousness filled the place once more, as van removed the guise of the silly old man. He furrowed his brow, and his brown eyes became sharp like a hawk's, then said seriously, "So, let's get back to the important matter you came for. What have you decided?"
Ivan felt a severe tension; he stood up from his place, unable to meet van's eyes. He turned towards the door, turning his back on him, and said in a shaky voice, "I don't know; I'm still confused. The only thing I've realized today is that I'm clinging to life." These words escaped his lips, but deep down, he felt the exact opposite. He was certain of his desire to escape this place, but his mother's will lingered in his mind like a specter that wouldn't leave him.
He remembered the monster's attack and that person from Riters who had asked him to participate in the test. Those events convoluted in his mind, and they could not be ignored. It wasn't just a coincidence; they were signs urging him to choose, as if fate was beckoning him with hidden fingers.
van stood up from his seat and walked towards the exit, his hands behind his back, leaving Ivan behind. Then he said, as smoke wafted from his mouth, "Letting the fear of the unknown dominate a person makes them lose many opportunities. They think they are protecting themselves, but the truth is that they are just cowards who cannot face reality and resort to fleeing from it. All your convictions and thoughts are nothing but borrowed knowledge from the experiences of others. I told you to stop borrowing others' eyes; you have your own."
van left the house, leaving Ivan behind until he reaches certainty, and he didn't delay; he dashed after Uncle fan, who was halted by a voice calling him, saying, "Okay, I agree, but I have one request: I want you to pay for the medicine I stole last night. I don't know if that old man is still alive or not." To which Uncle Fan replied, "How do I know you won't steal from me as well?" Ivan felt he had said something he shouldn't have disclosed in front of him, so he tried to defend himself, saying, "It was something necessary; I didn't do it gladly; I…"
van laughed at Ivan's spontaneous replies, saying, "I'm just joking; so, shall we go?"