The Sin of Innocence 8,5

[Another Story: The Denial]

A day before Axel left his home village to pursue his dream, weeks before meeting the Abyss Walker crew.

In Axel’s home village, inside the hut, Axel and his grandfather were checking the contents of Axel’s bags. That day was the last day Axel stayed there.

“What do you think, Axel?” his grandfather, now an old man in his late 60s, asked. “Do you need anything else for your journey?”

“Hmm…” Axel thought. “So far so good.”

“I think it’s enough, gramps,” Axel commented as he smiled.

“Are you sure?”

“Umm, Gramps… We’ve been checking the contents more than three times now.” Axel smiled with an awkward smile.

“Oh… Yes, I forgot.” His grandfather smiled and shook his head. “Looks like age dulled my senses! Ah… Time sure flies faster than I thought. The last time I remember, you’re still a child, Axel. Now, look at you. You’re a grown person!”

“Time sure flies…”

Axel closed his bags and wore them; one sling bag and one big (enormous) backpack.

“Is it too heavy, Axel?” his grandfather asked, concerned.

“N-Not really… I can handle these. Don’t worry.”

“Then… What are you waiting for?”

Axel stood and reached for the door.

“This is it,” he thought as he reached his right hand to the doorknob, but he stopped as he lowered his hand with doubt in his heart and mind.

He turned back and looked at the inside of the hut, looking at the old furniture and worn equipment. A swarm of bitter and sweet memories stormed his mind, echoing into his heart.

“Do I… really want to go?” Axel thought as his hands trembled.

He looked at the anvil and remembered when his grandfather taught him everything essential for him to reach his goal. Axel took a dagger from his pocket; it was the first equipment Axel made. He opened the sheath and stared at the blade; it had Axel’s full name imprinted there by his grandfather.

“So much… memories…” Axel thought.

“Anything wrong?” his grandfather asked as he stood next to Axel. “Did you forget anything?”

“A-Ah… N-Nothing…” Axel put the dagger back into his pocket. “I just—”

“Hm?”

"It just…" Axel looked below, unable to express his feelings. “I…”

Out of the blue, his grandfather pinched Axel's nose for a moment, annoying him.

“Ah—! Gramps! I'm not a kid anymore!” Axel huffed as his face turned red. “S-Stop it!”

“Exactly.” His grandfather smiled as he patted Axel’s head. “You've matured, Axel. You are a man now. You make your own choice. I know it’s hard for you, right? To leave the place where you’re raised to pursue your dream…”

“Ah… I’m—!”

“It’s fine. Be honest to yourself.”

“I…” Axel looked away. “Y-Yes…”

“I won’t forbid you from your choice, Axel. Do what you must do; decide what you think the best. I’ll always support and appreciate your decision, whatever it is.”

“I…”

“It’s fine. Take your time.” His grandfather sat on the bed, waiting for Axel’s decision. Axel put his backpack down and stood still, deciding.

“I made a promise, didn’t I?” Axel thought as he clenched his fists. “To become the best blacksmith in the Western Land… Yes, I promised that! I—!” Axel reached his hand for the doorknob as the memories washed away, changed by a determination.

“Gramps!” Axel said without ever turning back. “I have decided! I’ll be the best blacksmith! After that, I’ll come back here. I swear!” Without further pause, Axel ran, leaving.

His grandfather smiled, proud of Axel’s decision. He lied on his bed and closed his eyes.

“I hope I could live longer,” he thought. “I want to see you reach your dream. I want to see you become a man and start a new family. But alas… My time… It’s shorter than I thought.”

He remembered the day he found Axel; it was on a cold night in a forest. The night sky was starry, and the moon gleamed. Sounds of bugs, wind, and crackling bonfire filled the silence.

[Flashback: The Child of Who Fell from The Sky]

Axel’s grandfather, during his early 50s, camped there with a friend, a man in his late 40s working as a hunter, after hunting for a pack of wolves terrorizing the village. They both sat near the bonfire, talking and exchanging jokes and stories.

“So, Cain,” his grandfather’s friend asked. “You escaped Byxantrus because you did that?”

“Hey, I don’t want to talk about that! It’s 20 years ago, so forget it!”

His friend laughed out loud.

“You helped a beautiful woman escaping and got the royal soldiers all over you,” his friend said, laughing.

“I don’t know she’s a convicted witch, damn it. My life has turned hell since then!”

“So, what did she give you in return? Oh, did you do ‘that’?!”

“I don’t even want to remember about ‘that’.”

“Tell me, Cain. How beautiful is she?”

“It’s… Enchanting. Almost, unnatural. Her eyes… They were sharp. Her voice alone could send you into eternal bliss.”

“Sounds good dying for. So tell me, you’re a father, right?”

“Like hell this old bastard is a father! I haven’t even seen her for decades! She might have died.”

“Aww, don’t say that!” the man said as he sighed. “Do you get to know her name?”

Cain looked at the moon for a moment, remembering.

“Salome…” he answered. “That’s the name she told me before leaving.”

“Salome, eh? If she gives birth to your child, what will be the name?”

“Why would I bother giving it a name?”

“Ah, come on. I bet you once thought ‘bout that!”

“Hmm… If it’s a girl, I’ll name her Alexandra.”

“If it’s male?”

“Then I—”

Their conversations got interrupted by the sound of an infant crying aloud in the darkened forest.

“W-What in the world was that?!” his friend asked in fear. “You don’t make that sound up to scare me, don’t ya?”

“Are you dumb, Mel? How the hell could I make such a sound!”

“Let’s head back. This forest is haunted, damn! I don’t want to risk getting eaten by a demon baby here!”

“Haunted your father’s nose! Stop going to a shaman already! You’re filled with stupid superstitions! You’re brave enough against a pack of wolves, but the sound of a ghost scares the living hell out of you?”

“Hey, you could stab a wolf to death, but can you even touch a ghost?!”

The crying became louder.

“You’re not really thinking of going there, do you?” Mel asked as he got inside the tent, but Cain stood, going to the source of the voice.

“Hey, Cain! Don’t leave me!” Mel stood, following out of fear.

“Then get your butt moving already, Mel!”

Cain and Mel walked to the source of the voice, passing through the thick woods.

“The wind is getting colder here,” Mel said as he got cold feet.

“Don’t chicken out!”

From afar, they looked upon an open area where tree canopies didn’t cover, causing the moonlight to pass through, shining on a patch of grass. On that grass, there was a naked newborn baby covered in blood lying there, crying.

“Mel, ye see that?” Cain asked quietly as he pointed at the location. “There’s a baby there.”

“Y-Yes. Now, let’s go back—”

Mel turned back, but Cain grabbed him by his collar.

“Cover me from the back,” Cain said. “I’ll get close.”

“Careful, Cain. Might be a trap set by bandits.”

Cain sneaked around, moving in the darkness while Mel tailed him. They made no sound from their footsteps to prevent their positions from being known in case it was truly a trap.

Cain got closer to the source and waited. Minutes passed and no one came. Cain opened his pocket and took a piece of rag, big enough to cover the baby. They both returned to their camp, and Cain placed the baby inside the tent. He cleaned the baby and checked the condition; it was a boy.

“Who would be so heartless to abandon such an infant there?” Cain thought.

Mel opened the tent.

“How is it?” he asked.

“It’s a he. The baby is fine.”

“Careful, he might be a witch’s lovechild—”

“Mel, if you dare to say anything supernatural, I swear that—”

The baby cried, interrupting their focus.

“Why is he crying?” Cain asked.

“How should I know?”

“Mel, you’re a father, right? You should know—”

“I don’t know, I swear. My sweet darling was the one taking care of my children!”

“Sigh… Let’s head back to the village now.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. If you don’t want to, then I’ll go back alo—”

“Okay, okay. I’m going!”

They both moved along the dark forest to the village.

“This child,” Cain said; he was carrying him in his arms. “Could he be from the sky?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You denied mine and now you said he fell from the sky?”

“I see no traces around him. Not even footprints from wild animals.”

“You know what else without footprints? Ghosts!”

“...”

“Anyway, let’s continue our conversation. If you had a daughter, you would name her… Ah… Axelonra? Alehandra? Axelandre—”

“Alexandra.”

“Oh, yeah. What if you had a son, what would you have named him?”

“Ah…”

Cain looked at the crying baby for a moment.

“Axelon,” he said after the pause.

Now, in the current time, Cain smiled from reminiscing about the memory he had with Axel since then.

“When you’re closer to death, you’ll see your life flashes before you…” He smirked. “Heh, I thought it was just a lie, but… It’s true after all…”

He looked at the ceiling as his body felt weaker; his eyes became blurry as he felt his heart weakened.

“Do I have any regrets? Oh, yes. There’s one. I couldn’t see you again.” He thought as he smiled with tears flowed into his cheeks. “Forgive me, I have to bid farewell now… Thank you, Axel… My… son…”

***

Outside the village, near the entrance of a dense forest separating Axel’s home village with others, Axel walked along the man-made path.

“I have to be the best blacksmith there…!” Axel thought as he kept walking without looking back. He clenched his fists hard enough to wound his palms. “I will become the best for you, gramps! I… I—!”

Axel stopped, panting heavily; not because he’s encumbered because of the backpack’s weight, but with the mixed emotions inside him. He didn’t want to look back as he knew that, if he looked back, he would never want to go.

He took a deep breath and looked back at his home village. Tears fell from his eyes as he saw his home from afar.

“I… I don’t want to go, gramps,” Axel said to himself as he wiped his tears. “But, I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want to break the promise…!”

He wanted to move forward, but his legs became heavier to the point he couldn’t move anymore.

“Why…? Axel muttered. “Why can’t I—?! Damn it! Why am I hesitating?! Why damn it?!”

Axel looked at the home village again.

“Gramps… I haven’t… matured yet… Forgive me…”

Axel walked back, returning to his hut. He stood in front of the door, troubled with guilt. His body trembled while his eyes and face reddened because of the crying. He reached his hand for the knob, ready to accept the outcome.

“How could I tell him this?” Axel thought, saddened. “I’m such a disgrace…!”

Axel opened the door.

“Gramps, I—! Ah?”

Axel saw his grandfather lying on the bed, motionless.

“Gramps?”

Axel put his bags down and stood in front of the bed.

“Gramps… I—”

Axel noticed his grandfather didn’t move at all, not even snoring. Axel knew his grandfather would snore loudly when sleeping, as Axel always slept next to him. But this time, it was too peaceful.

“G-Gramps?!” Axel’s hands trembled with uneasiness and sheer paranoia as he shook his grandfather. “Gramps! It’s I, Axel! Gramps?! Gramps!”

Axel shook his grandfather’s shoulder harder as he kept calling him. After ten minutes of endeavor, no response came from his grandfather. Axel put his head on his chest, trying to feel his breath and heartbeat.

“He is not…! No…!” Axel couldn’t feel a breath nor heartbeat. “Please… Please… Please!!!” Axel put his hands on his chest, trying to perform akin to CPR. “Gramps! Gramps…! Please…!”

Axel kept doing the CPR until he lost track of the time already. The moment he stopped, he realized it’s dark outside, and his grandfather didn’t even wake up.

Axel fell on his knees as he held his grandfather’s hand. No tears came out as he had poured his eyes out.

“He’s… sleeping, right?” Axel said to comfort himself and smiled with a broken, devastated smile. His eyes were empty, devoid of light, and hope as he saw his grandfather not waking up. “He… He must be sleeping!” Axel wiped his tears as he shook his head. “He’s sleeping! He’s sleeping! He’s sleeping!”

He took his bags and opened the door, hurrying to leave.

“He’ll wake up when I’m back,” Axel thought as he ran. “When I have fulfilled my promise, he will wake up! He will wake up… He will… He is not—!” Axel slapped himself. “He is sleeping!!!”

Axel ran farther from the village. His legs didn’t feel heavy anymore as he grasped upon the hope he made from the denial; he believed his grandfather was just sleeping out of tiredness. After that, Axel stayed from here and there, asking the directions of Port Xamos, hoping to reach the Western Land and becoming the best blacksmith there…

***

[Another Story: The Regret]

Umbreal Mortem, a criminal group, consisting of low bandits and crooks alike, formed by a merchant named Vissionir Lorenz to gather an insane amount of coins to get his daughter back from Ricardo Laspreyes.

In fact, they were originally nameless as the name, Umbreal Mortem, roughly meaning The shadow of death, were given by those who feared them. Vissionir liked the name and made it the official name of the group.

While seemingly harmless from their equipment, their true terror came from the way they worked. They were like a pack of hyenas as they stalked their potential victims anywhere, waiting for the moment to launch their attacks from the shadow, leaving only the corpse and the stench of death as the traces of their existence.

They moved from a small island to another, where the navy rarely even bothered to come. Don’t bother sending a courier or anything to give the navy a message; they would have expected that. They shot down any mail pigeons, hijacked ships, and ambushed the mail deliverer on the way.

The ways they executed their prey were inhumane. You can name the cruelest tortures known to men as they did them all. They might skin you alive slowly but painfully; burn you alive; mutilate your fingers and force you to eat them, et cetera.

They cooperated well; they know when to attack or when to retreat unless they’re cornered. They would try to negotiate to lessen the losses. The leader himself was a brilliant and meticulous swindler and mastermind. Unlike the other bandit groups who preferred to against using their leader as bait, Vissionir preferred to be one.

How they could do that so smoothly, you may ask. Vissionir had his ears placed around the island, including the town hall. His men easily blended in a crowd, posing as harmless civilians and workers. To reduce more suspicions, he ordered his men to capture thieves and bandits there to gain the trust of the locals.

They could have succeeded in their goal if only that night never happened.

In the chilly night, before Abyss Walker arrived at the island. In the house of a three.

“Don’t… Please, don’t do this…” the father begged, crying and kneeling in front of Vissionir. He’s wounded on his shoulder and legs from daggers. “You may take everything, but please… Spare my wife and daughter!”

Behind the father was the wife, the mother, cowering in fear while holding their 9-years-old daughter. The mother trembled, fearing for the safety of her family, especially her daughter. The daughter, being an innocent child, tried to comfort her mother by wiping her tears. Umbreal Mortem got them surrounded with no hope of escaping.

Vissionir's face was dead stoic, devoid of emotions. The face was enough to intimidate even the bravest of man. It was the first time he showed a reaction like that as his men knew Vissionir as an insane torturer during a time like this. He loved to torture and witness his prey begging for his life, only to be killed in the cruelest ways humans could ever imagine.

“What do we do first, boss?” his man asked.

“Do the usual.”

“Understood.”

Five persons, including the leader, surrounded them; three persons kept watch outside; while the rest, 9 persons, searched the house for valuables. They put the valuables inside a large sack.

“Please…” the father begged. “I beg your mercy—”

One bandit kicked the father in the face.

“Silence!” he said, furious. “If you don’t want to stay silent, I’ll kill the girls first!”

The father stayed silent, fearing the fate of his beloved.

“How’s everything?” Vissionir asked the looting bandits.

“There’s nothing left here, boss!”

Vissionir sighed in disappointment and lifted the man’s face by the hair.

“Where is the rest?” he asked.

“There is nothing—!”

Vissionir slammed the father’s head on the ground and gave a hand signal to one bandit near the wife. The bandit pierced the woman’s neck with a dagger and blood spurted everywhere, drenching her clothes and her daughter’s face.

“Mommy—!” the girl screamed in horror, but a bandit held her mouth shut.

“Shut your mouth, young miss, or I’ll send your sweet mommy to hell!” a bandit threatened.

“No…” the father muttered as he looked at his wife. “Please… I’m telling the truth—!”

The bandit buried the dagger deeper into her neck.

“Please! Please! I swear… Don’t! There’s nothing more!” the father muttered, breaking down as he looked at his wife.

“Do it,” Vissionir ordered his man.

The man slit her throat, ending her life. Her blood splattered the wall like a fountain, drenching her daughter’s clothes. Her lifeless body fell to the ground, soaking the ground with a pool of blood.

“M-Mommy…?” the daughter kept muttering as she kept shaking her mother’s lifeless body, hoping she would wake up.

“NO—!!!” the father screamed, but Vissionir kicked him in the face and stomped his head repeatedly.

“Where is the rest?!” Vissionir asked.

“You monster—”

Vissionir stomped his face and ordered his man to point a dagger at the daughter’s neck. Vissionir lifted the father’s head by pulling his hair.

“No! Not her! Please, I’ll do anything! Don’t! Don’t—!!!” The man broke down already. His hair turned white from the intense stress he’s having.

“Then tell me! Where’s the rest?”

“We… We had nothing left… We had nothing left—!”

“Useless!!!” Vissionir muttered as he stomped the father’s face.

Vissionir took a venom dagger from his pocket and stabbed the father on his nape repeatedly.

“Y-You… You may kill… me,” the father muttered as blood filled his throat. “But… her… don’t…”

Vissionir ordered the bandit to release the daughter. The daughter ran to her father, crying.

“Daddy…” she muttered as her body trembled. “Why is mommy not waking up…?”

She shook her father’s body, but his father had gone already.

“Daddy… Please, don’t leave me too… Please…” the girl cried, hugging his father’s arm. “Please… You promised us that we will move to Byxantrus, right daddy? So please… DON’T LEAVE ME—!”

A bandit kicked her in the face.

“Hey, hey, shut up!” the bandit said. “Your parents’ dead already! So shut it—!”

“Enough. Let’s get out of this place,” Vissionir commanded.

“Okay boss.”

The guarding men secured the way outside, finding a suitable lonely route for their escape.

The bandit pointed a knife at the girl’s neck. Her face was empty as she showed no reaction.

“What do we do with her, boss?” the bandit asked. “I can skin—”

“Leave her alone. We’re leaving.”

“Eh? But boss—!

“Leave her.”

“We can’t let any survivors, boss—!”

“Shut up!” Vissionir blurted as he turned away.

“B-Boss?”

Vissionir’s breath was heavy as he felt a sharp pain in his chest.

“You do it,” Vissionir commanded. “Don’t forget to regroup!”

“Understood, boss.”

“And one more thing… Make her death as painless as you could… I… I beg you.”

“Boss? Ah, okay.”

Vissionir’s hands were shaking as his eyes were full of tears. He couldn’t bear to watch it as he ran with the others. They reached their hut and cleaned their clothes with water in the forest.

Vissionir’s body was still trembling while his head felt nauseous. He went outside and puked everything; he was sickened by himself.

He looked at his hands and saw blood on his palms. He rushed to a water puddle nearby and washed his hands there, but the blood didn’t wash away. He saw his reflection on the water; blood soaked his body.

A moment later, he saw distorted faces around him on the reflection. He heard loud screams in his ears, ringing hard enough to send one insane. Vissionir closed his eyes and ears, but the image had already burned into his mind while the screamings became louder.

“Stop it…!” he thought as he trembled and wavered in terror. “Stop it!!!”

He remembered those screams; it was from all of his victims. They’re calling out for Vissionir’s name. Their innocent blood screamed from the depths of purgatory, wanting revenge.

“Murderer! Monster! Animal! Demon!” the voices screamed, enough to sap away his sanity.

“Stop it… I’m sorry… Stop it!”

His chest became heavy as his heart beat fast and loud.

“Die! Die! Die!” the sounds screamed.

“Anyone…” Vissionir thought as his body felt weak. “Help me…”

He felt a warmth in his chest, soothing his mind and soul.

“What’s happening…?” Vissionir thought as he saw an image of light inside his mind, cleansing the distorted faces. The light was calling out for him; it sounded beautiful and sweet like a chorus from cherubs, removing the screams from his mind.

“Who?” Vissionir muttered.

“It is I, father,” the light replied. “Don’t you remember me?”

“You…” Vissionir remembered the voice; it was from his beloved daughter. “A-Aurelle?”

The pain from his chest was gone, and his body felt relieved. He opened his eyes and looked at the water surface; the blood disappeared; he was cleansed.

“A-Aurelle?” he thought “You’re praying for your daddy? Even for what I’ve done?”

He opened his pocket, reaching for the pendant. He opened the pendant and saw the portrait of her daughter. He remembered the day he spent with his family; the day he spent with his wife and daughter. He reflected upon what he had become.

“What kind of monster have I turned into?” he thought as his legs felt weak. He fell on his knees, crying. “Aurelle... I’m sorry. Daddy’s a monster…” Vissionir’s tears fell on the water's surface. “Aurelle, I promise… That was… That was the last. No more wickedness! I’ll free you, my dear… I promise. After that, I’m ready to accept my punishment… I’m ready to burn in hell.”

Vissionir smiled as he held the pendant close to his chest.

“Aurelle, daddy loves you,” Vissionir thought. “Whatever happens…”