Growing up in Mauserak grew harder every year. The Soul Reapers were not the only blood thirsty alliance that had formed in the chaos. Each person seemed to call his or her own perception truth. Anyone that challenged the truth of another was subject to the truth that was challenged. Usually this meant that they were killed, tortured or both. My father taught me that there is only one truth for every circumstance and that people can only perceive parts of it. He told me it was like a picture that had been cut to bits. A segment of the image may seem like something wonderful, but put together with the rest of the picture could, in fact be something vile or even dangerous. He was a very wise man.
My father and I spent our days hiding and our nights running. The only joy I had was in the knowledge I could gain from what my father taught and what books I could salvage and horde. I would devour the stories and facts in each book, determined not to let a single letter go without my examination.
One day, my father and I awoke to an intense heat and a loud crackling sound. The tree into which we had flown to rest had been put to flame by about seven young men. We flew quickly away and were nearly out of sight when I turned suddenly, realizing that I had left my sack of books; my bag of precious knowledge.
I rushed back toward the tree despite my father's pleas fading behind me.When I reached the tree again, I saw that the villains were using my books for kindling!
"NO!" I screamed as I dove towards the flames, bent on rescuing my books.
Suddenly my ears were full of laughter and then ringing as a rough hewn rope tightened around my neck. One of the men had lassoed me! All at once I was hurtling towards the flames as the man pulled me out of the sky.
As I hit the pile of burning literature I could hear my father shouting my name and I could see the scoundrels take hold of him. I had only enough energy to roll myself out of the fire before I blacked out completely.
When I awoke, the sun was setting and my books had burned down to cinders. I noticed my father lying near me and crawled painfully to him. His wings were torn and his clothes were gone. Pieces of his hair and beard had been torn out in large chunks leaving wounds that were now caked with dry blood.
"Father..." I choked out as tears stung my eyes and hurt my cheeks where the flesh had been burned. Ignoring my physical pain, I roughly shook my father's body and pleaded that he awaken. It was no use. He was gone. My books were gone. There was nothing left for me. I didn't even have a death boat to give my father a funeral.
I lied by my father's body for hours, weeping bitterly and praying for answers and forgiveness for my selfishness. As I was singing an old hymn, my voice cracking with dehydration, an old woman pushing a cart happened to come by. She lent me her cart so that I could take my father to the sea shore and even sold me some bells to tie on his thumbs as is our custom.
When I got to the beach I gathered drift wood and pieces of discarded rope and made a small raft for my father. I melted down all the candles we had left and sealed the raft so it would float. As I sent my father's body out to sea, I pleaded with my God to take me soon as well.
The next morning a Gaian explorer flew over on an airship. I flew up to him and he agreed to take me on board as long as I pulled my weight as a part of his crew until he reached Gaia once more. I agreed and was thus rescued from the chaos that is Mauserak.
Father, forgive me....
