Pit* Pat*

  Pit* Pat*

  Pit* Pat*

  Pit* Pat*

  Rain fell upon the ground as traveling merchants closed their stalls, tearing down signs and banners to avoid damaging their wares.

  Standing in the midst of the square was a frail young girl drenched in rain begging for the merchants to spare some food and medicine.

  Her breath was ragged and long black hair covered most of her face as she desperately dashed from one closing stall to another in search of anyone who would help.

  Up to this point, no one was willing to help her so she could only close her eyes in hopelessness...

  Two months ago, her parents passed away from a rare disease not even healing practitioners could identify. Most of what they saved was spent on whatever medication the practitioners could supply, but nothing worked.

  She and her younger brother were spared from the disease, a miracle that defied common sense.

  They had no friends or relatives left, so as they lost their parents they became homeless.

  Thankfully a passerby saw their affliction and built them a temporary shelter near their old house and provided some gold coins which would last three months if it was spent wisely.

  Because they were sadly uneducated about currency, they quickly became broke as their innocence was taken advantage of.

  On top of that, her brother who was eight years old suffered from a severe cold for the past four days.

  The cold got worse as the weather became frigid because winter arrived.

  The only choice she had to fill their stomachs and find medicine for her brother was to beg at the square.

  Opening her eyes she saw a sign being torn down with the words 'Garrison Supply,' and made her way over, hoping the owner of this stall would help her.

  The merchant she saw was a tall and fat man with expensive clothing and a mustache that had a curve to it, signifying his wealth and status.

  It was hard for her to tell how well she might be received.

  Looking at the things he was putting away, she noticed glass jars full of jerky, and weapons she's never seen before.

  The merchant, seeing her approach his stall, only gave her a glance before continuing to put his wares into a wagon.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Excuse me sir!"

  No reply.

  "Um... Excuse me sir!"

  Not even a head tilt.

  One more time, in order to get his attention, she reached out to touch one of the jars.

  The merchant, seeing the beggar who had been going to other vendors besides himself, reached out to one of his jars, he swiftly took it away, his eyes glaring.

  "Who do you think you are, you filthy runt to touch my merchandise?" His words were harsh and domineering.

  Gulping, the girl could only respond sincerely.

  "I-I only meant to get your attention sir."

  Shifting his over-sized body, he stood over the girl and stared down at her.

  "I have nothing to give you, you unclean vulture! Get lost!"

  Scared to death, she could only run away from the vendor, tears streaming down her eyes.

  After a few minutes of running away, she slowed down.

  She walked in a deathly trance towards a clearing in the square.

  Lost in thought, the rain continued to pound her as she contemplated what the merchant said.

  Normally, comments like these wouldn’t affect her.

  She was used to suppressing the pain.

  But being called an unclean vulture when it wasn't even her fault...

  The anguish she felt as she heard those words—combined with the passing of her parents, illness of her brother, and the loss of their finances—overwhelmed her. It left her feeling incomprehensibly helpless, indignant, broken, and deeply hurt.

  She hadn’t been alive in the world for long, but it was as if her birth was a planned death.

  Falling to her knees, she sobbed shatteringly as the weight of despair gripped her aching heart—the rain becoming a covering for her sadness.

  Fleeing merchants stood in shock, for the girl they mocked and did not help lifted her eyes to the heavens with her hands clutching her heart, wailing with unmistakable sorrow.

  Her voice pierced through the clouds, as if a sword cut through an array of a thousand arrows, not stopping until it had divided the four corners of the earth.

  All the pain, the brokenness, and the despair became a symphony of raging crescendos as her wailing became the choir itself.

  Then…

  The rain stopped.

  A figure clad in white apparel with the appearance of lightning and a face resembling that of a man suddenly materialized before the eyes of all.

  He stood facing the girl as she looked at him in awe with a mixture of fear.

  Every step he took as he started to approach her was filled with sparks dancing around his feet, leaving scorched imprints on the ground as peels of thunder resounded above.

  Some onlookers ran away screaming for their lives, while some tried to approach the duo but were prevented by some supernatural force.

  As the figure drew closer, the young girl twitched with fear as her heart beat faster and faster.

  She tried to move but couldn’t.

  A thought passed her mind—thinking she angered the Being of the heavens, so He sent a messenger to slaughter her.

  Closing her eyes in anticipation of death, the breath of the entity could be felt as he stopped next to her ear and gently whispered.

  "You are not a vulture, you are God's child."

  All her raging emotions came to a halt as a peace that surpassed all understanding encompassed her. It was as if she was covered in the warmth of the sun.

  Opening her eyes, the figure had already taken a step back when their eyes met.

  Looking more closely, she could see that his eyes were painted with the stars of the heavens, shining with a brilliance as if it were the crown of his power.

  The figure smiled, but then his face became more solemn as he opened his mouth.

  "A time of testing has come for mankind—as for you, Raise the Key."

  All of a sudden images of a future battle for the sake of mankind flashed through her mind, mixed with creatures that mankind called Nightmares and landscapes filled with corpses and rivers of blood.

  Although the scene was grotesque, the peace that surpassed all understanding guarded her heart as the scene shifted to a man—her brother.

  She saw him older, more refined, with his long blue hair tied up in a bun and standing with a sword as blood flew down his body in the face of what they called The World Ender Behemoth of Nightmares.

  Then the imagery went blank as she began to waver, the figure catching her in his arms.

  All of a sudden everyone looked upwards as a sinister red portal overshadowed the entire city.

  Before she could say anything, the figure spoke, his eyes staring at the scene above.

  ”It has begun.”