Zentran: "Why should I help the humans who are terrified of me?"
Lunsk 23, 1784
“It’s lunch time, Zen!”
The young man immediately placed his hand over his eyes so he wouldn’t be blinded by the sudden burst of light that appeared whenever the boards that covered the entrance to the pit were removed. He squinted as he could perceive a basketful of food was transported down by a pulley; soon the smell of freshly-made bread and baked ham filled the air, which caused him to swallow his saliva. Standing up, he wiped the dust from his pants and walked over to where his lunch would be delivered.
As soon as the basket was in arm’s reach, Zen grabbed it and headed back to his original spot to inspect his meal. Let’s see… a thick slab of glazed ham, a small bowl of honey glazed carrots, a small loaf of warm bread, and a large pouch full of water. Not bad. At least they remembered to give him silverware this time.
He ripped a piece of bread off and ate it as he watched the men above him quickly put the boards back in place. One of the men made eye contact with him and immediately pressed his hand on his forehead, mouth, and heart as if he was warding evil, which was pretty laughable. Chuckling to himself, Zen cut himself a slice of ham and chewed it slowly to savor the succulent juice. Before he knew it, he was eating in the dark though a small stream of light shone down from the tiny crack. It’s somewhat funny how he has gotten quite used to living in the dark even though he has been in the pit for almost three months now.
At first, he was furious and would curse aloud so everyone could hear it. But now, he had been resigned to his fate and didn’t bother to fight back… at least he wanted them to think that anyway. Closing his eyes, he bent his head back and reflected on how it happened.
Ceza 12, 1784
It all started when Puloog has insulted his father. “You take that back!” he had snarled as he lunged at the other man’s throat. The other boy had claimed that Zen’s father was not a hero at all, which was such a big lie since he had proof that he was.
“What’s wrong, Zenny boy?” Puloog taunted as he dodged the attack and swung. “Don’t want to admit that your father loved to take credit for something that wasn’t true?”
Luckily for Zen, the other boy was a slow hitter so he easily avoided the punch and counterattack by slamming his fist into Puloog’s stomach. While he was sprawling on the floor, his friends immediately rushed over to his aid. Some helped him to his feet while a few tried to challenge Zen, who knew it was futile. After all, many considered Puloog and him as the best fighters in the village.
He just finished giving a boy a black eye when he heard someone shouting, “Zentran Gruong! What on earth do you think you’re doing!?”
Turning around, he saw his mother and the leader of the village, Jarkfi Buli, glaring at him. Everyone immediately stopped fighting and stood up. “Teaching them a lesson,” he said bluntly. Both of them still frowned at him so he added, “What? They deserved it! They claimed that father was a fake!”
His mother shook her finger at him. “I don’t care, mister! You don’t go around beating people up,” she admonished him. “Now I want you to head home right now. I’ll have a nice chat with you about this later.” He tried to protest but she gave him a “You know that I mean business” look so sighing, he did what he was told.
As he walked away, he heard his mother’s apologizing, “I’m sorry about my son’s behavior, Buli. I don’t know where he got that short temper of his. His father didn’t act that way at all.”
“He’s at that age, Huthi,” the Jarkfi replied. “I’m sure that he’ll calm down soon. Anyway, you best be going soon.”
Sighing exasperatedly, she agreed, “You’re right. I think this is the fourteenth time that I have to apologize to those children’s parents for Zen’s behavior. Honestly, I don’t know what to do with him sometimes…”
He didn’t bother hearing the rest and sulked back home. After slamming the door shut so hard that the walls shook, he marched to his room and lay on his bed until he felt better. Then he reached over to the night table and grabbed the memento that his father has left to him before he died. It was the Aerian crest, which was given to his father by the Aerians as a sign of appreciation. It was a shape of a shield with a spear on top of it made out of sapphire and gold. As he traced his finger on the edge, he recalled his father’s heroics.
According to his mother, his father, Destan, was walking back home one day after a long day of hunting when he stumbled upon a group of men who were possessed by some Possessor Duermons. He overheard their plotting to ambush a squad of Aerians located nearby and alarmed, he immediately ran to the angels to warn them. Not only that, he also asked if he could help them attack the Duermons, but they forbid him, saying that he already put himself in danger already by what he did and that he should home to his family.
Instead of listening, he hid himself in the forest and watched the battle. Most of the demons had retreated after they were easily defeated by the angels; however, while the Aerians were celebrating their victory, Destan noticed that one lone Duermon pretended to be dead and discreetly aimed an arrow at the leader’s heart. Alarmed, he lunged on top of the bowman and smashed his head opened, killing the possessed man and the Duermon. The Aerians were startled when they saw it and they immediately rushed over to where his father was. After inspecting him to make sure that he wasn’t possessed, they praised him for his fighting prowess, and as a token of gratitude, gave him the Aerian crest.
When Destan came back home that night, he didn’t brag to everyone about what he did. Instead he went straight home to his new wife, who was waiting anxiously for his return, and sat her down at the kitchen table. There he placed the crest on the table and told her everything. At first, she didn’t believe him and thought he was telling her a tall tale just to humor him.
Her opinion changed when some Aerians arrived at the village to get some supplies a few days later. Seeing these protectors around was – and still is – a big deal in any place in Sendoa so a crowd including Destan and his wife had gathered just to see a peek at these mysterious creatures. As the angels were leaving, one of them noticed Zen’s father and approached him.
He told his father that he recognized him from the other day and wanted to thank him again for his help. Everyone in the village immediately started murmuring with excitement as they wondered what the Aerian meant by that, but before anyone could ask, he was called away for another mission. Instead, they asked Destan, but he was very modest about it so Huthi had to tell the story to everyone.
The villagers were quite impressed by his heroics that they decided to have a banquet to honor him. He refused, but they insisted that he finally relented though he was embarrassed by all of the attention he was getting. Everyone in the village was filled with pride that one of their own was able to help the Aerians defeat their hated enemy, the Duermons, and now whenever a traveler stays at the village, they would tell him or her about Destan’s exploit.
Zentran had heard the story about his father several times now that he knew it by heart. He was always so proud about his dad and always viewed him as his hero. In fact, it was his father who taught him how to fight and told him to be an honorable warrior no matter what. That became difficult though when he got bullied by Puloog and his gang, who claimed that his father had exaggerated what he did. They knew that would provoke him, and he would immediately got into a fight with them. Whenever that happened, he would receive a lecture from Jarkfi Buli and his parents about his behavior.
One day, when he was nine years old, his father pulled him aside and had a chat with him as they trained. “Why do you keep getting into fights with that boy and his friends?” he questioned as he dodged one of Zen’s wild punches.
Blocking his father’s counterattack, he remembered replying, “They claimed that you’re a liar and that you didn’t help the Aerians like you said you did.” His father frowned and stopped fighting so he did the same.
Finally, his father smiled and said, “Is that why you’re angry about? Son, I know what some people say about me, and they won’t change their mind no matter how hard you try to convince them. Do I care about what they think? No, because I don’t give a damn about their opinions. I’ll continue to do my best to protect my home and my family. That’s what important in my life. You should remember that, Zen.”
“Protect my home and family, huh?” he muttered. Looking at his dad, he beamed, “Of course I will! I’ll protect this place just like you did with the Aerians!” His father laughed and ruffled Zen’s hair as they headed back home for dinner.
Unfortunately, two years later, his father became suddenly ill and was bedridden. His mother summoned the village doctor and a local exorcist to examine him. Zen remembered waiting apprehensively outside his parents’ bedroom while they were tending to his ailing father. Meanwhile, his mother was pacing back and forth in the hallway and she was biting her fingernails, which was a nervous habit of hers. Finally, the two men came out of the room so his mother asked, “How is he?”
The men looked at each other before they shook their heads. “I’m sorry, but he doesn’t have much time left,” the exorcist apologized. “I’ve checked, but there is no sign of any Duermon – Possessor or Parasitic – inside him. Based on what the doctor has seen, his body is slowly failing him. We believe that he only has a month left. We’re so terribly sorry.”
Upon hearing the news, his mother collapsed on the floor as he sat on his chair, stunned. His father was dying. The person he admired the most won’t last long for very long. Finally, he stood up and ran toward the men. Pounding on the doctor, he cried, “That’s not true! My dad is not dying! He just can’t! Isn’t there something you can do!?”
The doctor, pitying him, consoled the boy, “I can give your father some medicine to ease the pain. Other than that, there is nothing else I can do. I know that you’re upset, but you need to be strong for your parents’ sake as well. Please, Zentran. Your father has raised you to be a strong pillar for your family. Help them in any way. Understand?”
Sniffling, he nodded and the doctor smiled. “Why don’t you see your father right now?” he offered. “I think it would be comforting for him to see you.” Wiping his tears, he opened the bedroom door and put on a brave face.
Destan was staring sadly outside the window when he entered the room. His father was now as thin as a skeleton and his face was so gaunt. It was hard to imagine him as a strong and muscular man. Approaching the bed, he timidly whispered, “Dad?”
His dad slowly turned around and even though there were tears in his eyes, he gave a welcoming smile to his son. “Hey, Zen,” he croaked. “Do you need anything?”
He shifted his feet uncomfortably. “No, it’s nothing,” he replied as he looked down. “I just want to talk. That’s all.”
“I see,” his father said. They looked at each other awkwardly as both of them knew that they were trying to pretend that nothing has changed between them. The news of Destan’s dying was too much to bear.
After a few minutes of silence, Zen had enough and blurted, “Why were you looking out the window?”
His dad looked startled about the question and admitted sheepishly, “I was looking for the Aerians in the sky.”
“Why?” Zen’s curiosity got the better of him and he climbed onto the bed next to his father to see. His father wrapped his arm around him and pointed with his free hand to something flying in the azure sky.
“Seeing them filled me with peace,” Destan confessed and he wore a soft smile as he remembered what he did. Turning to his son, he said, “Zen, I know that I don’t have much time to live so I would have a request for you.”
He nodded. “I know,” he replied, “I’ll take good care of Mother. I’ll do the best I can, I promise.”
His father looked happy and added, “Of course I know you will. However, I know that there will be times when you feel down or angry at the world. Whenever you feel like that, I want you to look for the Aerians in the sky and imagine that I’m flying there with them. Remember, no matter what happens I will always be here.”
Looking at the Aerians, Zen realized that he did feel a little bit better. “Thanks, dad,” he said as he hugged him tightly. He felt his dad did the same as well.
Five years have passed after his father’s death and it was still tough for him especially when Puloog and his friends kept harassing him about his dad. It didn’t help that Zen felt like he was singled out by the village elders since it seemed like he’s the only one who got reprimanded. Once he complained about it, but they told him it’s because he should have known better, which frustrated him more. Whenever that happened, he would go to his room and look out the window to search for a sign of any Aerian flying by. Whenever he saw one, he imagined his father was there and felt better.
With that thought in mind, he sat up and looked out the window to check for any sign of Aerians. Unfortunately, there wasn’t. Sighing, he was about to head back to his bed when he heard the door opened. It seemed like his mother had come home. “Zen,” he heard her called out. “Zen, are you in your room? We need to talk, dear.”
Annoyed, he dragged himself out of his room and walked down the stairs. “Yes, mother?” he said sarcastically but seeing her disappointed face made him feel bad about it. He looked at her apologetically and continued, “I know! I know! I messed up again, okay? I can’t help it! Those… jerks kept insulting dad and that pisses me off! What do you want me to do about it? Just grin and bear it?”
Instead of answering, his mother sat down at the table and wrapped her hands around her head. Zen became concerned and walked over to her. “I don’t know where I went wrong,” she sobbed; her words were so soft that he could barely hear her. “I thought I did everything right to raise you, but every time you mess up, I feel like I’m a horrible parent. I wish your father was still around because he would know what to do.”
Feeling bad, he placed his hands on her shoulders but she shoved them aside. Realizing that there was nothing he could do to make her feel better, he decided to leave the house and take a walk until his mother cools down. That turned out to be a huge mistake.
“It’s lunch time, Zen!”
The young man immediately placed his hand over his eyes so he wouldn’t be blinded by the sudden burst of light that appeared whenever the boards that covered the entrance to the pit were removed. He squinted as he could perceive a basketful of food was transported down by a pulley; soon the smell of freshly-made bread and baked ham filled the air, which caused him to swallow his saliva. Standing up, he wiped the dust from his pants and walked over to where his lunch would be delivered.
As soon as the basket was in arm’s reach, Zen grabbed it and headed back to his original spot to inspect his meal. Let’s see… a thick slab of glazed ham, a small bowl of honey glazed carrots, a small loaf of warm bread, and a large pouch full of water. Not bad. At least they remembered to give him silverware this time.
He ripped a piece of bread off and ate it as he watched the men above him quickly put the boards back in place. One of the men made eye contact with him and immediately pressed his hand on his forehead, mouth, and heart as if he was warding evil, which was pretty laughable. Chuckling to himself, Zen cut himself a slice of ham and chewed it slowly to savor the succulent juice. Before he knew it, he was eating in the dark though a small stream of light shone down from the tiny crack. It’s somewhat funny how he has gotten quite used to living in the dark even though he has been in the pit for almost three months now.
At first, he was furious and would curse aloud so everyone could hear it. But now, he had been resigned to his fate and didn’t bother to fight back… at least he wanted them to think that anyway. Closing his eyes, he bent his head back and reflected on how it happened.
Ceza 12, 1784
It all started when Puloog has insulted his father. “You take that back!” he had snarled as he lunged at the other man’s throat. The other boy had claimed that Zen’s father was not a hero at all, which was such a big lie since he had proof that he was.
“What’s wrong, Zenny boy?” Puloog taunted as he dodged the attack and swung. “Don’t want to admit that your father loved to take credit for something that wasn’t true?”
Luckily for Zen, the other boy was a slow hitter so he easily avoided the punch and counterattack by slamming his fist into Puloog’s stomach. While he was sprawling on the floor, his friends immediately rushed over to his aid. Some helped him to his feet while a few tried to challenge Zen, who knew it was futile. After all, many considered Puloog and him as the best fighters in the village.
He just finished giving a boy a black eye when he heard someone shouting, “Zentran Gruong! What on earth do you think you’re doing!?”
Turning around, he saw his mother and the leader of the village, Jarkfi Buli, glaring at him. Everyone immediately stopped fighting and stood up. “Teaching them a lesson,” he said bluntly. Both of them still frowned at him so he added, “What? They deserved it! They claimed that father was a fake!”
His mother shook her finger at him. “I don’t care, mister! You don’t go around beating people up,” she admonished him. “Now I want you to head home right now. I’ll have a nice chat with you about this later.” He tried to protest but she gave him a “You know that I mean business” look so sighing, he did what he was told.
As he walked away, he heard his mother’s apologizing, “I’m sorry about my son’s behavior, Buli. I don’t know where he got that short temper of his. His father didn’t act that way at all.”
“He’s at that age, Huthi,” the Jarkfi replied. “I’m sure that he’ll calm down soon. Anyway, you best be going soon.”
Sighing exasperatedly, she agreed, “You’re right. I think this is the fourteenth time that I have to apologize to those children’s parents for Zen’s behavior. Honestly, I don’t know what to do with him sometimes…”
He didn’t bother hearing the rest and sulked back home. After slamming the door shut so hard that the walls shook, he marched to his room and lay on his bed until he felt better. Then he reached over to the night table and grabbed the memento that his father has left to him before he died. It was the Aerian crest, which was given to his father by the Aerians as a sign of appreciation. It was a shape of a shield with a spear on top of it made out of sapphire and gold. As he traced his finger on the edge, he recalled his father’s heroics.
According to his mother, his father, Destan, was walking back home one day after a long day of hunting when he stumbled upon a group of men who were possessed by some Possessor Duermons. He overheard their plotting to ambush a squad of Aerians located nearby and alarmed, he immediately ran to the angels to warn them. Not only that, he also asked if he could help them attack the Duermons, but they forbid him, saying that he already put himself in danger already by what he did and that he should home to his family.
Instead of listening, he hid himself in the forest and watched the battle. Most of the demons had retreated after they were easily defeated by the angels; however, while the Aerians were celebrating their victory, Destan noticed that one lone Duermon pretended to be dead and discreetly aimed an arrow at the leader’s heart. Alarmed, he lunged on top of the bowman and smashed his head opened, killing the possessed man and the Duermon. The Aerians were startled when they saw it and they immediately rushed over to where his father was. After inspecting him to make sure that he wasn’t possessed, they praised him for his fighting prowess, and as a token of gratitude, gave him the Aerian crest.
When Destan came back home that night, he didn’t brag to everyone about what he did. Instead he went straight home to his new wife, who was waiting anxiously for his return, and sat her down at the kitchen table. There he placed the crest on the table and told her everything. At first, she didn’t believe him and thought he was telling her a tall tale just to humor him.
Her opinion changed when some Aerians arrived at the village to get some supplies a few days later. Seeing these protectors around was – and still is – a big deal in any place in Sendoa so a crowd including Destan and his wife had gathered just to see a peek at these mysterious creatures. As the angels were leaving, one of them noticed Zen’s father and approached him.
He told his father that he recognized him from the other day and wanted to thank him again for his help. Everyone in the village immediately started murmuring with excitement as they wondered what the Aerian meant by that, but before anyone could ask, he was called away for another mission. Instead, they asked Destan, but he was very modest about it so Huthi had to tell the story to everyone.
The villagers were quite impressed by his heroics that they decided to have a banquet to honor him. He refused, but they insisted that he finally relented though he was embarrassed by all of the attention he was getting. Everyone in the village was filled with pride that one of their own was able to help the Aerians defeat their hated enemy, the Duermons, and now whenever a traveler stays at the village, they would tell him or her about Destan’s exploit.
Zentran had heard the story about his father several times now that he knew it by heart. He was always so proud about his dad and always viewed him as his hero. In fact, it was his father who taught him how to fight and told him to be an honorable warrior no matter what. That became difficult though when he got bullied by Puloog and his gang, who claimed that his father had exaggerated what he did. They knew that would provoke him, and he would immediately got into a fight with them. Whenever that happened, he would receive a lecture from Jarkfi Buli and his parents about his behavior.
One day, when he was nine years old, his father pulled him aside and had a chat with him as they trained. “Why do you keep getting into fights with that boy and his friends?” he questioned as he dodged one of Zen’s wild punches.
Blocking his father’s counterattack, he remembered replying, “They claimed that you’re a liar and that you didn’t help the Aerians like you said you did.” His father frowned and stopped fighting so he did the same.
Finally, his father smiled and said, “Is that why you’re angry about? Son, I know what some people say about me, and they won’t change their mind no matter how hard you try to convince them. Do I care about what they think? No, because I don’t give a damn about their opinions. I’ll continue to do my best to protect my home and my family. That’s what important in my life. You should remember that, Zen.”
“Protect my home and family, huh?” he muttered. Looking at his dad, he beamed, “Of course I will! I’ll protect this place just like you did with the Aerians!” His father laughed and ruffled Zen’s hair as they headed back home for dinner.
Unfortunately, two years later, his father became suddenly ill and was bedridden. His mother summoned the village doctor and a local exorcist to examine him. Zen remembered waiting apprehensively outside his parents’ bedroom while they were tending to his ailing father. Meanwhile, his mother was pacing back and forth in the hallway and she was biting her fingernails, which was a nervous habit of hers. Finally, the two men came out of the room so his mother asked, “How is he?”
The men looked at each other before they shook their heads. “I’m sorry, but he doesn’t have much time left,” the exorcist apologized. “I’ve checked, but there is no sign of any Duermon – Possessor or Parasitic – inside him. Based on what the doctor has seen, his body is slowly failing him. We believe that he only has a month left. We’re so terribly sorry.”
Upon hearing the news, his mother collapsed on the floor as he sat on his chair, stunned. His father was dying. The person he admired the most won’t last long for very long. Finally, he stood up and ran toward the men. Pounding on the doctor, he cried, “That’s not true! My dad is not dying! He just can’t! Isn’t there something you can do!?”
The doctor, pitying him, consoled the boy, “I can give your father some medicine to ease the pain. Other than that, there is nothing else I can do. I know that you’re upset, but you need to be strong for your parents’ sake as well. Please, Zentran. Your father has raised you to be a strong pillar for your family. Help them in any way. Understand?”
Sniffling, he nodded and the doctor smiled. “Why don’t you see your father right now?” he offered. “I think it would be comforting for him to see you.” Wiping his tears, he opened the bedroom door and put on a brave face.
Destan was staring sadly outside the window when he entered the room. His father was now as thin as a skeleton and his face was so gaunt. It was hard to imagine him as a strong and muscular man. Approaching the bed, he timidly whispered, “Dad?”
His dad slowly turned around and even though there were tears in his eyes, he gave a welcoming smile to his son. “Hey, Zen,” he croaked. “Do you need anything?”
He shifted his feet uncomfortably. “No, it’s nothing,” he replied as he looked down. “I just want to talk. That’s all.”
“I see,” his father said. They looked at each other awkwardly as both of them knew that they were trying to pretend that nothing has changed between them. The news of Destan’s dying was too much to bear.
After a few minutes of silence, Zen had enough and blurted, “Why were you looking out the window?”
His dad looked startled about the question and admitted sheepishly, “I was looking for the Aerians in the sky.”
“Why?” Zen’s curiosity got the better of him and he climbed onto the bed next to his father to see. His father wrapped his arm around him and pointed with his free hand to something flying in the azure sky.
“Seeing them filled me with peace,” Destan confessed and he wore a soft smile as he remembered what he did. Turning to his son, he said, “Zen, I know that I don’t have much time to live so I would have a request for you.”
He nodded. “I know,” he replied, “I’ll take good care of Mother. I’ll do the best I can, I promise.”
His father looked happy and added, “Of course I know you will. However, I know that there will be times when you feel down or angry at the world. Whenever you feel like that, I want you to look for the Aerians in the sky and imagine that I’m flying there with them. Remember, no matter what happens I will always be here.”
Looking at the Aerians, Zen realized that he did feel a little bit better. “Thanks, dad,” he said as he hugged him tightly. He felt his dad did the same as well.
Five years have passed after his father’s death and it was still tough for him especially when Puloog and his friends kept harassing him about his dad. It didn’t help that Zen felt like he was singled out by the village elders since it seemed like he’s the only one who got reprimanded. Once he complained about it, but they told him it’s because he should have known better, which frustrated him more. Whenever that happened, he would go to his room and look out the window to search for a sign of any Aerian flying by. Whenever he saw one, he imagined his father was there and felt better.
With that thought in mind, he sat up and looked out the window to check for any sign of Aerians. Unfortunately, there wasn’t. Sighing, he was about to head back to his bed when he heard the door opened. It seemed like his mother had come home. “Zen,” he heard her called out. “Zen, are you in your room? We need to talk, dear.”
Annoyed, he dragged himself out of his room and walked down the stairs. “Yes, mother?” he said sarcastically but seeing her disappointed face made him feel bad about it. He looked at her apologetically and continued, “I know! I know! I messed up again, okay? I can’t help it! Those… jerks kept insulting dad and that pisses me off! What do you want me to do about it? Just grin and bear it?”
Instead of answering, his mother sat down at the table and wrapped her hands around her head. Zen became concerned and walked over to her. “I don’t know where I went wrong,” she sobbed; her words were so soft that he could barely hear her. “I thought I did everything right to raise you, but every time you mess up, I feel like I’m a horrible parent. I wish your father was still around because he would know what to do.”
Feeling bad, he placed his hands on her shoulders but she shoved them aside. Realizing that there was nothing he could do to make her feel better, he decided to leave the house and take a walk until his mother cools down. That turned out to be a huge mistake.