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The Ilmarians
He was walking around the outskirt of the village since he figured that not a lot of people would bother him there. He made sure that he stayed inside the fenced-in area because that was where the barrier was; Jarkfi Buli has placed talismans on the fence to ensure that no Duermons could enter the village. During his walk, he reflected about what his mother said and recalled what his father has told him.

It was getting dark when he figured that his mother has calmed down and was about to head home when someone threw a pebble at his head. Annoyed, he turned around and saw that Puloog and his friends were standing there. All of them were holding different sizes of rock.

“Hey, Zenny boy,” Puloog taunted, “what are you doing here out at night? Don’t you know that this is when the Duermons are the most active?”

“I can ask the same to you as well,” he pointed out. “Besides, if you paid attention in school, you would know that statement of yours isn’t true at all.” Puloog’s friends guffawed, which caused him to glare at them until they stopped. Zen smirked to himself and began to walk back home. Another rock, much bigger this time, hit his shoulder. He didn’t need to turn around to guess who the culprit was.

“What’s the matter, Zenny?” an angry Puloog shouted. “Are you too chicken?”

Ignoring the pain, Zentran remembered what his father has said and replied without looking back, “No, it’s not that. I just realize that it would just be a waste of my time.”

He smiled to himself after he said that because he finally understood what his father’s words meant. He should focus more on what matters, not on the trivial things. As he continued his walk, he felt someone slammed against his back and fell down to the ground. Grunting, he forced the person off his back and stood up immediately in a defensive pose. Puloog looked at him with rage as he also struck a fighting pose. The others gathered around them to form a circle though they seemed to be uneasy about it.

“I see how it is,” Puloog sneered. “You’re too good for me now, right? You think so highly of yourself because your father is a so-called hero even though he supposedly warned some Aerians about an ambush. Well, guess what? You and your father are pathological liars who like to brag about things that they never did!”

Zen just wanted to laugh. He and his father were full of it? How ridiculous! Everyone knew that Destan Gruong was a very private and modest man. It was so obvious that Puloog was trying to provoke him, but it wouldn’t work this time. Unfortunately, it looked like there was no escape since he was surrounded. He looked around his surrounding to see if there was any opening in the circle he could burst through.

He stared at the people surrounding his opponent and him and studied their expressions. Most wore stony faces of indifference now so he knew that they would block his way. When he was about to lose hope, he noticed that there was one person who has scared look in his face, which means that he could easily push his way out of this mess. Now he just needed a plan.

“So you want to get beat up again?” he asked softly that everyone has to strain their ears just to hear him. Puloog smirked as he lifted his fists to show that he was ready. “Okay then, don’t say that I didn’t warn you!”

Zen charged at the boy, who immediately dodged just as he has planned. Instead of turning around to face his hated rival, he continued running toward the weak point in the circle. The terrified boy, upon seeing that Zen was heading straight toward him, quickly jumped out of the way. With a triumphant grin, he escaped the group, who was yelling angrily at him.

Nevertheless, he knew that it was going to be short-lived. Though he was considered to be quite strong, he wasn’t the fastest boy in the village and he knew that the others know that as well. Unfortunately, the village was still several miles away so he had a long way to go. Cursing to himself, Zen wondered why he decided to walk so far.

Thunderous footsteps told him that Puloog and his goons were catching up to him. Out of the corner of his eyes, Zen noticed that they were near the area in the fence that was being mended. Piles of sharpened wooden posts were stacked haphazardly next to fence since the workers wanted to hurry back home and rushed through the job. Good, that meant that he was almost home. His legs felt like lead as he forced himself to continue running. Come on, Zen! He urged himself. You can do it!

That was when he realized that someone was closing in on him. Before he knew it, Puloog was running next to him. “Miss me, Zenny?” he taunted before he shoved Zen, who lost his footing. Stumbling, he saw that he about to land onto the pile of wooden stakes and tried to brace himself for impact. That was when he felt something piercing his chest. Zen looked down in horror to find one of the sharpened posts was protruding through his chest. Warm blood was pouring down the wooden board to the ground below.

He could barely hear people shouting out in horror when they saw what had happened. “You killed him, Puloog!” someone cried out. “What are we going to do now?”

Puloog said something that was inaudible, but Zen could barely hold his concentration. Everything was getting blurry and black. Closing his eyes, he took his last breath and thought ruefully that this wasn’t how he expected to die.



When he opened his eyes, he found himself surrounded by clouds. Where was he? Was this heaven? He stood up and began walking around. “Hello?” he shouted. “Is anyone here?”

A bustling wind seemed to answer him and he shielded his face with his arms. Suddenly, he felt a presence was nearby and he turned around to face whoever it was. A shadowy figure stood there silently, which unnerved him. It appeared to be a young man with short teal hair with strands of beads dangling from it. He wore a gray sleeveless shirt and a cape as well as navy blue pants and black boots. “Who are you?” he demanded. There was something about that person that told Zen that he could be very dangerous.

“I am called Fuera, child. I am the one who created the sea life that you see,” the man answered though Zen felt like he was being admonished. “I have come to pass on my power to you, my successor.”

“Successor?” Zen was now confused. “What do you mean by that? And what power?”

A lightning bolt struck near his feet, which caused him to swear aloud. “This is your power now,” Fuera replied in his booming voice. “Use it wisely, child, or else you will live in a world where everyone will fear you.”

“Wait! What do you mean by that?” he shouted but the stranger had disappeared in the cloud. There was a sudden flash of light and Zen found himself standing on a platform. A sea of people was standing right below him.

“You must be the new recruit. I didn’t expect another Ilmarian until a couple of years from now, to be honest,” a voice said behind him. Startled, he turned around to find himself facing a young man, who looked around his age, sitting on a throne. He wore a black and gold robe and had a bemused look on his face. A lantern staff was leaning against his body. At first, Zen thought that this man was Fuera, but then this person wasn’t wearing any beads in his hair and was taller than the man he just met.

“What’s your name and where do you live?” the man asked. “Based on your appearance, you must be a Sendoan.”

“Yes, I’m a Sendoan, but why should I tell you who I am or where I live?” Zen questioned. “Why don’t you tell me yours and where I am right now? Then perhaps I’ll tell you mine.”

Sighing, the man replied, “My apologies then. My name is Pendance and you’re currently in Valendor.”

“Valendor?” Zen’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute, isn’t that the World of the Dead? Does that mean that I’m dead!?”

“Not quite,” Pendance answered simply. “You’re only here temporarily. You’re an Ilmarian just like me, which means that you cannot die and have been bestowed an extraordinary power. Anyway, I have told you my name so now it’s your turn.”

“But why?” Zen questioned suspiciously.

Pendance scratched his head tiredly; he must be getting irritated by the fact that Zen was delaying him. “Right now, my mother is gathering all of the Ilmarians together so we can protect the world, and I need to find out information about you so it would be easier for her to locate you,” he explained in a patient voice. Then he has a look of surprise on his face. “Dammit! It seems like you’re waking up soon so you need to hurry and tell me something!”

“Wait! What do you me-” he began, but then a sudden wave of dizziness hit him so he collapsed to the ground. He felt Pendance grabbed his shoulders and looked up to see that the man looked worried but at the same time, panicked. “My name is Zentran Gr-,” he managed to say before everything disappeared into a burst of light.

  

When he woke up, Zen found himself in excruciating pain. Looking down, he found out his answer; that damned wooden stake was still sticking out of his chest. With a deep breath, he grabbed it and forced himself to pull it out of his body. It took longer than he had anticipated because he had to take a break to regain his strength after moving the post a few inches. Large beads of sweat dripped from his head each time he pulled the beam. Finally, he was able to pull it out completely and afterward, he collapsed to the ground, which was covered with strange, glowing, white flowers.

He would have thought he would die again due to the fact that he has a gaping wound on his chest, but he felt a warm light throughout his body. Opening his eyes slowly, he was amazed to see that the flowers were offering some of their light to him and that his body was being healed. The hole in his chest was slowly closed up and before long, it was gone. He touched it gingerly and was relieved to see that he was as good as new.

What was going on here? He recalled what Pendance had told him, but lingering questions were still bothering him. Unfortunately, he didn’t have Pendance or Fuera around to answer them and he didn’t feel like dying again. From what he has experienced, dying was very painful and he didn’t want to go through that again.

Speaking of which, he recalled how Puloog pushed him down and caused his death. He wondered to himself whether that boy and his friends had sent for help yet. Based on the position of the moon, he had been dead for quite a while now, but no one had come for him, which probably meant that the others didn’t tell the village elders about the incident. Well then, it most likely meant that no one knew that he’s dead, which was probably a good thing because then he didn’t have to answer any questions. Standing up unsteadily, he slowly walked back home.

 

As Zen approached the village, he could hear people’s shouting. Curious, he hurried back to see what the commotion was about. He noticed that a large crowd has gathered in the village square and that Puloog was standing next to the Jarkfi. Deciding not to reveal himself yet, Zen hid behind some crates and watched the scene.

“So you’re saying that you know what happened to Zen, Puloog?” Buli questioned. The young man glanced at his friends nervously and nodded.

“Yes, sir,” he replied timidly. “My friends and I were just hanging out when we saw Zen was walking by himself near the fence. We tried to warn him not to stay to close to the edge, but he didn’t listen. Instead, he swore at us and threatened to hurt us. I tried to calm him down, but he refused to listen to me. That was when he started to be belligerent and tried to fight me. I just wanted him to stay away so I pushed him gently, but he stumbled. That was when he got impaled by the wooden stake. I swear!”

Zen could hear his mother wailed when she heard the news and everyone was muttering in shock about his supposed death. It was very heartbreaking to see his mother that way; the last time he recalled her that devastated was when his father died. However, he was more incensed by the fact that Puloog was acting like he was upset that he was dead and was trying to comfort his mother. Storming out of his hiding place, he shouted angrily, “That’s not true and you know it, Puloog!”

Everyone in the crowd gasped in surprise when they realized that Zen was still alive. Puloog’s mouth was wide open and he gawked at a perfectly healthy Zentran, who was marching toward him. “Z-z-zenny!” he squealed as his face turned pale. “You’re alive! That was some cruel prank you pulled on us, huh?”

“Prank!?” Zen roared; it took him so much effort not to knock that bastard down. He could hear thunders booming in the distance, but he paid no mind. “Getting pierced by a fucking piece of wood is not my idea of a prank. Why don’t you tell the truth about how you and your friends tried to gang up on me? Or how I was trying to escape when you shoved me down to that pile of wooden stakes?”

“W-w-what are you talking about?” Puloog said as everyone’s questioning eyes were turned on him and he wiped his sweat from his forehead. “I did no such thing!”

“Dammit! Stop lying, you bastard!” he screamed as he charged at him. That was when it happened. Before he could even punch the liar, several lightning bolts encircled both of them. “What the?” Zen stopped dead on his tracks as he and everyone stared in confusion at the spectacle. Every hair on his body was raised up and a sense of uneasy filled him. Then his right arm felt tingling so he looked down at it. Imagine his surprise with he saw that blue sparks were coming out of his right hand. What on earth was going on?

He was still staring at it when he heard Puloog shouted, “This is his work! He’s a demon! That’s why he’s still alive even after I killed him!”

Startled, Zen looked up to find the other boy pointing at him. His scream had also alerted the others and soon they were staring at him in horror. Some cowered at the sight. “That’s not true!” he protested as he raised his hands, which were now covered completely with the strange sparks, to declare his innocence. “I didn’t do this and I’m not a demon!”

Unfortunately, the sparks from his hand scattered all over the place when he did it. A few bystanders were hit by the lightning, but the ones that got the most damage were the houses. Soon fires were burning throughout the village and majority fled for their lives. A few brave men grabbed some buckets and hurried to the river so that they could stop the fire from spreading. None dared try to get close to him less they got risked getting electrocuted.

The entire time it was happening, Zentran could only stare in horror at what he did. Devastated, he fell to his knees and watched everything getting destroyed. There had to be a way to save the village! As if his prayers were answered, he slowly felt the sparks diminishing on his arms and soon big, fat raindrops were pounding his body. He heard men’s shouting as they realized that the rain was helping stopped the fire. Before long, some of the big, bulky men were brave enough to confront him once they realized that he wasn’t a threat anymore.

“Zentran, please give up and come with us. We need to find out what has happened to you,” he heard Jarkfi Buli pleaded. Nodding his head, he raised his hands and surrendered. In his head, he could hear Fuera’s warning: “Use your power wisely, child, or else you will live in a world where everyone will fear you.” 



Ceza 19, 1784

“So, Zentran, tell me what happened again,” one of the elders asked.

He sighed irritably; this was the umpteenth time he had to tell his story again. “Like I said, after I got killed, I met a person named Fuera, who claimed to be a god and told me that he has given me his power. The next thing I knew, I was suddenly in Valendor and met another guy named Pendance. He told me that I’m an Ilmarian just like him,” he repeated.

“But what is an Ilmarian?” another one interrogated.

 “I don’t know,” he confessed. “He just said that I’ve been given an extraordinary power and that I cannot die.”

The village council murmured to each other after what they heard and eyed him suspiciously through the bars that contained him. Since the incident a week ago, he had been imprisoned in the jail, which had talisman stuck on the door to prevent him from causing any mischief. Men guarded him to make sure he did not try to escape, but he did not even bother. He was such a model prisoner! To be honest, he was more confused about his newfound power and he was hoping that maybe one of the elders would know.

“Perhaps an Ilmarian is a new type of Duermon?” an elder suggested and the others muttered in agreement. That notion made Zentran vivid. He could hear thunders rumbled in the distance, which caused everyone to look at him uneasily.

“That doesn’t make sense at all!” he argued. “If that were true, then why didn’t the exorcist find any presence of Duermon inside me when he examined me?”

They gave him a condescending look. “It may be because you’re a new Duermon so he wouldn’t have any information about you,” one of them decided matter-of-factly.

“But why would Pendance tell me that I supposed to use my power to protect the world?” he asked. “That doesn’t make sense if I’m a Duermon! Wouldn’t I want to destroy this village and use everyone as foods for the Possessor and Parasitic Duermons?”

“Are you implying that you’re a god and that you can lord over us!?” they said derisively. “Your arrogance is sickening. Besides, why would the gods care for us, Sendoans? If they did, the Duermons wouldn’t have existed to harass us.”

Sighing irritably, the teenager gave up trying to convince them. “What is going to happen to me?” he asked quietly.

“Of course, we will have a trial to determine how to deal with you. We will set it up tomorrow then,” one of the council members decided.

As they started to leave, Zen pleaded to the Jarkfi, “Please, Jarkfi Buli, you got to believe me! I’m not a Duermon!”

Buli halted and looked at him uncertainly. “We will find out whether that is true or not,” he said simply and walked away. In spite of what the Jarkfi said, Zen’s heart sank. He knew that the leader believed that he was a demon and that there was no way to convince him otherwise. His fate had already been decided tomorrow.
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The Ilmarians
  • Home
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    • The Samaran Chronicles >
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  • About
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