The child woke up, he turned his body facing the night sky, staring at the expanse of stars above him.
Seeing the sky already full of stars, perhaps he had been unconscious all night, the first thing that appeared in his mind was not the pain in the back of his neck, but beautiful memories that emerged just like that.
"Brother Dex"
"Bro"
He could still remember when those children called his name.
Dex, a name given by Mira because she said it sounded cool.
His body felt heavy, as if buried under stones, he was still lying in the same alley, the place where those bastards made him pass out.
Dex tried to get up, his dirty hand touched the cold and wet ground, his head throbbed in pain, but that pain was nothing compared to the memories that came flooding back.
Mira. Kato. Len. Yuki.
Small bodies hugging each other, pooling blood, frightened gazes frozen in death.
"Bastards..." he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely coming out.
He stared at his hands full of wounds and dried blood, then his gaze turned toward the shack.
His legs moved on their own, bringing him back to the place he least wanted to come to.
That rotten wooden door was still open, and inside, four small bodies were still in the same position.
Dex knelt among them.
His trembling hand touched Mira's cheek which had already frozen cold.
"Forgive me..." he whispered. "Forgive me..."
No tears came out, as if his tears refused to come out or perhaps the sadness he felt was too deep to be expressed with ordinary crying.
Not only did he fail to keep his promise to bring food, but he also failed to keep his promise to protect them.
"DAMN IT!" Dex hit the floor repeatedly, it wasn't his anger that disappeared, but his hand that was increasingly in pain.
He sat there for hours, hugging those small bodies, whispering apologies over and over, when dawn began to break, Dex finally got up.
With bare hands, he dug the ground behind the shack using a piece of wood, the ground was hard, full of stones, his hands were bleeding, but he kept digging, one hole, two holes, three holes, four holes.
He laid them down one by one carefully, as if they were just sleeping.
After covering them with soil, Dex placed their favorite belongings on top of the graves, Mira with her shabby cloth doll, Kato with the shiny coin he always bragged about, Len with the torn book he always read, Yuki with the piece of red ribbon he gave her last year.
Dex stood in front of those four small mounds, the morning wind blew gently, carrying the stench of other corpses scattered throughout the slum district.
Dex looked back. There were dozens of corpses around him, but it was impossible for him to bury them all, so he only prayed for them to rest peacefully in the afterlife.
"I promise..." he said softly, his voice hoarse. "I—" The word was cut off, he didn't know what he wanted to convey to them.
Revenge? They might hate him if they heard that.
Fulfill their dreams? They might laugh at him.
He didn't know what he wanted to do, as if the entire purpose of life that had been in him all this time disappeared just like that.
He turned around, his gaze empty like a living corpse.
***
Three days passed, Dex spent his time walking aimlessly and avoiding guards, the corpses had already started being collected by city officials, thrown into mass graves outside the city walls.
No ceremony, no prayers, no one cared, that was the life of vagrants in that city, even their lives were not worth more than a piece of bread.
Dex watched it all with an empty gaze, he no longer felt hunger, as if his body had become numb.
On the fourth day, something happened.
Dex stood on the roof of an old building that was almost collapsed, staring toward Baron Antes's mansion standing magnificently in the distance.
The mansion shone beautifully under the sunlight, well-maintained gardens, gurgling fountains, a painful contrast with the ruins around it now.
"Why..." he whispered. "Why can you enjoy life after what you did?" Dex was confused, how they could still laugh after killing a human.
His anger that had been held back all this time began to boil, his hands clenched, his whole body trembled.
"WHY?!" he shouted to the sky.
The wind suddenly blew hard, even though the weather had been calm before.
The roof tiles around Dex began to shake, dust and wood chips lifted into the air, spinning around him.
Dex's eyes widened seeing the wind spinning around him.
The wind vortex around him grew stronger, the roof tiles began to fly, some fell hitting the ground with loud sounds, Dex tried to control it, but the more he panicked, the stronger the wind blew.
"STOP!" he shouted.
The wind suddenly stopped instantly, all the floating objects fell scattered in all directions, Dex fell to his knees, his breath gasping, sweat soaking his face.
"Why..." he murmured softly.
He remembered the stories he had once heard from old vagrants, about people who could manipulate elements, about knights and wizards who protected the kingdom, about the power that differentiated ordinary people from the Awakened.
And he also remembered, Reon once awakened his power when in danger.
"Why...?" He kept repeating the same words, Dex stared at his still trembling hands.
Dex raised his hand, trying to feel that flow again.
He channeled power to his legs, wind spun around his legs, Dex jumped from the roof, slowly the wind lowered him gently, as if understanding his wish.
His gaze was still empty as he stared at both his hands.
This power... perhaps this could be his answer, perhaps this was what he needed to take revenge, to make them feel the same pain.
But at the same time, he felt empty, as if this power came too late, why not yesterday? Why not when the others were still alive?
It wasn't happiness that came from that power, but a feeling so complicated, angry? Of course he was angry. Sad? Of course. Disappointed? Yes.
An expression difficult to explain with all the words in the world.
"Who's there?" A guard who saw the strangeness immediately came.
"Haaa" Dex sighed, he channeled power toward his legs, he slowly floated, it took a few seconds for him to balance himself, but he quickly got used to it, perhaps this was what they called talent.
Dex quickly left that alley, before the guard saw him.
***
He did not know how long he had been walking before he came upon an old building, the city library, long forgotten by everyone. Its windows were shattered, its door hanging crooked on rusted hinges.
Dex had come here once before, two years ago, looking for shelter from the rain.
There had been an old man sitting inside that day, reading with thick glasses perched on his nose. The man had not driven him away, only glanced up once, then returned to his book.
Now the place was empty.
Dex pushed open the wooden door. The hinges screamed, a sharp sound that echoed through the stillness of the night.
Inside it was dark and damp, the smell of rotting paper thick in the air, dust rising with every movement.
The bookshelves still stood, though many leaned at angles. Books lay scattered across the floor, some gone to mold, others eaten through by termites.
Dex moved deeper inside. His foot caught on something, a book lying open with its pages torn.
He crouched down and picked it up.
The moonlight falling through the broken windows was just enough to read the title on the worn cover. "War Journals."
Dex stared at the book for a long moment. The letters were small and dense. He had never learned to read properly, only picking up the basic characters that other children had learned from shop signs.
But he could read. Slowly. Very slowly.
He sat down against the shelf and opened to the first page.
"War never begins from hatred. It always begins from greed, wrapped in beautiful words."
Dex read that sentence three times before its meaning settled into him.
His fingers turned to the next page.
Dawn broke without Dex noticing.
He was still in the same position, the book open across his lap, his eyes raw and stinging.
His stomach still felt hollow, but he had read twelve pages.
The story told of two kingdoms that had warred for years, thousands dead.
In the end the two kings met and laughed together. The war, it turned out, had only ever been a distraction from the corruption they were both carrying out.
The people died. The kings laughed.