Raiden stumbled forward, his hands reaching out to grab something for support; but his fatigue made him fumble, causing him to fall over and crash into the ground with a resounding thud and pained yelp.
He groaned in defiance, channeling all the strength he could muster through his limbs to push himself up.
"I have to. get.t to..th.the te..m.mple," a string of broken words spilled out of his mouth.
The distant howls of beasts reminded him of why and how he was in such a situation, and it drove him on, his blood pumping furiously.
Sweat, blood and tears flowed freely down his face, causing his disheveled grey hair to stick to his face.
His arms quivered uncontrollably, an artery in his bloodshot eyes bursting, causing his vision to blur.
Unfortunately, before he could fully get up, he collapsed again, his body shuddering—almost shutting down.
Understanding that he wouldn't be able to lift himself up, he resorted to crawling, moving one limb after another seamfully.
He left a trail of blood in his wake as he dragged himself, his aim…
The Temple of Nahil.
What he needed there was unknown, but he strongly believed that getting there was of utmost importance.
One might call it foolish as he was killing himself slowly by moving around, but if he didn't move, he was going to die. After all, everyone in the village was dead.
Who was going to save him?
These thoughts drove him, and in due time he sighted it, a charcoal-black building situated in a small clearing. Its weirdly shaped roof made for a unique, eye-catching picturesque, and its double doors carved with the images of rings, of sort, seemed to call out to him.
Raiden doubled his efforts, pulling himself forward with all the willpower he could scrounge. He didn't mind if his face dragged through the dirt, or if he was bruised in the process—he just had to get there no matter the cost!
The sounds of the doors creaking open echoed within the temple, the sounds bouncing back and forth in a game of ping-pong.
Raiden raised his gaze up as soon as he entered the temple, and he laid his eyes on it… whatever it was.
A veil usually blocked the prying eyes of the temple visitors and local worshippers from seeing what was beyond the altar. But the veil had been shredded into pieces by an unknown force.
Just beyond the altar was a wooden box. It was propped against the wall at an acute angle, opened up to reveal the abysmal darkness nestling within.
There was no hesitation—no lag in body-to-thought coordination. Raiden dragged himself forward, reaching for the floor before him.
Blood still dropped from the long gash on his back, and it was a surprise that he could even still move.
A normal person would have passed out from losing so much blood, not to talk of a little frail boy like him. But, that only proved that there was something special about him—something that the city dwellers seemed to neglect.
THUD!
Raiden fell again, gasping for air. The air within the temple seemed to be toxic, carrying potent poison that threatened to take his life.
He was at his limits.
And he was almost there too!
Raiden gritted his teeth, stretching his hand towards the wooden box. His bones groaned and his muscles whined, the tip of one of his fingers grazing something cold within the box, shocking his nervous system… And then he woke up.
***
Raiden's eyes snapped open as he woke with a start. He couldn't remember falling asleep, yet here he was.
He couldn't tell if he was alive or not; if he had been captured by his pursuers and put to death.
His eyes darted around, studying his surroundings in apprehension.
The pale moonlight streaming in from the broken roof, the unnerving silence dominating the temple, and the deep darkness nestling in the corners.
'Still alive,' Raiden sighed.
His finger twitched, then his mind seemed to register that he felt no pain.
"How?" Raiden asked himself, rising up from the ground slowly.
His body felt lighter and stronger than usual, making his coordination a little off.
As he moved his arms, the rattling of metal gained his attention, and his gaze dropped to his right fingers and wrist where he laid eyes on a bunch of old black rusty metal rings.
'What's this?'
His finger grazed the metal as he observed it. Then suddenly… Everything went dark.
Raiden found himself falling through a dark space. There was no wind slapping against his body or whooshing sound in his ears. But he just knew he was falling.
In the next moment, his fall was ended underwhelmingly by his body slamming on the ground, yet… He felt no pain whatsoever, and his body remained intact.
Raiden rose to his feet slowly, feeling tense and wary. Everything happening was strange, and he was finding it hard to keep up.
He already missed his village. Such crazy phenomena didn't occur. He only had to hunt for food, fetch water from a nearby well or stream, and play with his little brother. He hadn't reached the age to start learning yet, so he never did much aside from that.
Everything around him was dark. It seemed like he was in an abyssal void, and the only thing visible was his body.
He didn't emit any form of light, and neither did he see any light source around, however, he could see himself clearly.
"What is this place?" Raiden whispered.
Without warning, the metal rings on his arm vibrated and shot out, bruising him as they left his hands forcefully.
He failed to realise that he didn't feel any pain again as his eyes were focused on the rings floating ahead of him in a circle.
There were five small rings that fit around each of his fingers perfectly, then four rings that hung around his wrists.
Each was as dark as a void, and they were cold to the touch.
The five rings rotated anticlockwise, while the four bigger rings rotated clockwise around them.
And upon completing a sequence, a stream of greyish energy formed at the very centre of the rings, then expanded into a large silverish mirror.
Raiden squinted his eyes, staring at his reflection and noticing his disheveled look.
His grey hair was long and messy, covering his dull black eyes. His tattered robes were barely staying together, hanging off his emaciated body like a slave's wear, and his bare foot was covered in caked blood.
Nails—hard and long—grew from his fingers and toes. They were covered in dried blood and dirt—both his blood and the blood of his adversaries
Before he could make out the other details of himself, however, his reflection suddenly moved, flashing forward with blurring speed, phasing through the mirror and appearing before him.
Raiden's eyes constricted into pinholes, a dreary feeling overcoming him.
"Welcome… Usurper."