Chapter 11

It’s getting worse. The more I encounter human villages, the more bitter I become. Something about seeing them so ignorant is grating on my nerves. The jealousy escalates at an alarming rate, and my emotions are everywhere. It’s like my filter for my emotions is broken.

I’d be fine one minute, the next I’m as angry as a berka whose cubs were stolen. The aggressive beasts with a single horn are fierce protectors of their young. Then, in seconds, I’m reigning in the fury and moving on like nothing happened.

Maybe it’s the loneliness. Maybe it’s the ever-present despair I try to convince myself isn’t there. Maybe I need companionship. Maybe I need help. The only ones capable of helping me at this point are the Others though. I loathe that fact almost as much as I loathe Them. I could head to Craforian. I could give it a chance, give Them a chance, to see what they can do for me.

The thought makes me sick, but I’m so tired. Tired of running aimlessly, tired of being alone, tired of not being able to trust myself anymore. Besides, there is no guarantee they will help. What Lori told me all that time ago may not be the most accurate representation of Craforian.

Honestly, I think about this more than I’d like. Over the last two months, I’ve had my share of emotionally challenging days. Really dark, emotional moments.

It’s times like those where I fear myself. I have become so afraid of what I could do. Those bizarre silver flames have hurt and destroyed before. What will happen if it gets out of control again? I have tried to bring it forth myself with no luck.

After the failed attempts, I thought about why that would be. The most logical thing I could come up with is that it stems from my emotions. Strong emotion, like rage or terror.

Unfortunately, the only ones who may be able to help me control it, are the same ones who fuel it. If they’re accustomed to dealing with these powers, then they probably have preventive measures in place. I can always explain I have zero control over the flames too. Better to lose control around Them than in a human village or a forest.

That’s all I would need, to burn down a village or a forest. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

If I do head to Craforian, I can scope the place out for a few days, get a feel for the town. If something doesn’t feel right, I can take off. I wouldn’t have to return. Besides, there’s no guarantee They would even help me once they figure out what I really am.

I know I’m an aberration and a monster. But, I know I’m something else, too. I shouldn’t have survived what They did to me; They said no one ever did. What does that mean for me? What am I? Why am I different from the rest?

They claimed I was special, but that’s just a bunch of shit. There’s nothing special about what I’ve become. I don’t even know how They made me this way either. All I know is it hurt, terribly.

I sigh. It’s been a long time since I thought about what I am, and it doesn’t cripple me like it once did. Something changed during my time on the run. I’m not sure I like it. Where is the overwhelming disgust and despair? Now, it’s like all my emotions are muted. Acceptance, even just a little, will do that I suppose. But when I started to accept what I am, I can’t say.

What would it be like to live in a place where they accept me for me, deformities and all? What would it be like to have a place to stay again? To not have to concern myself with scavenging or hunting for food. To actually have conversation with someone other than myself. To have someone teach me what I need to know and help me grow stronger. To talk with someone who can sympathize and understand what it’s like to be like me.

That thought pulls me up cold.

No one can understand me. Not really, not anymore. They made me this way. No one else is like me. I don’t even know what I am. Not human, but not Them, either. A hybrid. A mutated freak.

Perhaps I don’t function the way They do. Maybe there is something obviously wrong about me only They see. What if it makes me an even larger target? What if they decide to run tests on me too? I don’t think I could live with that again.

There’s no guarantee it will turn out that way though. I can’t let my imagination run away from me. I need to reign in the turmoil starting to unwind inside.

I simply need help. I desire contact. I desire companionship. Of course, none of these things will be satisfied at Craforian. I have no desire to develop any sort of relationship with Them. I will simply use them for control and resources. I’ll need to be on guard constantly. There’s no telling what they could do. There no telling what they are like either. My previous experience with Them didn’t go… well.

I have no idea what to expect with these ones.

Revealing my lack of control over the flames could also end badly. They could see it as a weakness, something to exploit. I could be seen as defenseless and useless. They might just dispose of me from the start. Would it be better to lie and say I have complete control, or ask them for help? What is the point of me going there, anyway? Why should I risk it, why am I entertaining the idea?

I plan to exact revenge

what’s left of Them. For that I need all the help I can get. I need every advantage and unfortunately, that includes my silver fire. It worked well enough last time and if I can hone it, I’ll be a force to be reckoned with. Maybe.

They have powers of their own, and I’m in the dark about what they are. My bow might not be effective against Them, and I can’t risk that. If I’m caught, there will be no escape.

Seeking help for my powers is the better option, the safer option. It’s decided.

I’m going to Craforian.

If the place is really as Lori said it was, then I should be accepted. For a place with both humans and Them to coexist seems impossible, but less than a year ago I would have said They were impossible.

But They aren’t, They’re real. Perhaps this place is real too.

I’ll stay for a few months and practice, gain some control. Then, I’ll leave Craforian and find Them. I can end Them all for good.

I plop down on the ground and rustle through my pack. According the map, Craforian is a two-day journey from here. I’m much closer than I suspected. I’d been wandering aimlessly for two months with no real destination in mind. I’ll take this as a sign I’m making the right choice. I roll up the map and shove it back into my pack.

Here goes nothing… and everything.