Dissolving Tension

Nimral's stampede was quickly stopped short by Alban's fist. The impact of the blow scrunched up the old nimm's face, the folds of his wrinkles pressing deep into his visage. The herculean, spine-chilling punch did not end there. It stuck tightly to the bridge of Nimral's nose, before being retrieved once again by Alban.

The unlucky nimm did not get to witness anything other than the looming sky above him. The movement of Alban's hands had nothing to do with the heavy musclebound man who found out he could actually fly. Unfortunately, the weathered old Icarus found out how that mythos really ended. He had no wings to melt, and no sun to do the melting. And yet Nimral had still met the ground.

The king had prevailed in the end. The battle was not over, but the war was in his favor. The monsters watching instinctively felt this, some of the smarter monsters greatly revering the young figure who calmly licked the residual blood Nimral's nose had rudely left on his knuckles.

Nimral snapped out of his daze just after that, though the fact that Alban's fist was now completely clean did not escape his notice. He felt the blood flowing down onto his lips, his nose was clearly broken. He may have felt bad about attacking the youth without even so much as regarding his life, but wasn't this a bit much?

Alban didn't seem to think so. Nimral didn't think he could escape the situation, either. If he would be forced to gamble with the god of death today, he would make the most of his remaining life. Not many monsters in Nightmare knew how many lives they had left, after all. If he awoke again, he would apologize to the boy. 'I should really act my age...huh.'

—-

Nimra was sprinting along the path to the forest, her heart pounding just as loud as her feet hit the ground. She felt really guilty about yelling at her dad to find Alban, she had gotten her savior in trouble for no reason. He was free to go wherever he wanted, she knew that, but...was it a crime to want to see someone? Maybe it was a bit selfish, but she felt like she would be fine if he just let her know he was okay first.

Pushing her doubts aside, she quickly ran right to the entrance of the forest. That's when she saw it.

It was a sight that contradicted her thoughts so strongly, she almost collapsed right there. But her doubts held her up, and her horror kept her mind awake. She saw the guy she was crushing on so hard she might as well have been delusional. Was it bad that even looking at him, her heart still fluttered a bit? What a dangerous feeling. She was mortified, yet she still liked him. She felt disgusted with herself.

The moonlight shone down upon a defeated and collapsed man, his face staring wide at the sky. The chest that resembled a barrel was still heaving up and down, a clear indication that the old man was still alive. But he might as well have been. On the surface, it looked like mere flesh wounds. But there were indents of where a fist landed all over his skin, there were gashed and huge gaping holes through his body. There were no signs of the fire that usually accompanied Alban, this brutal sight had been done purely physically.

Speaking of Alban, the boy looked...unhinged. He was leaning in real close to Nimral, his mouth open, those fatally sharp fangs reflecting in Nimra's eyes. Before he could do...whatever it was he was about to, a shout distracted him.

"Alban, what are you doing!?" It was loud. Noisy. Familiar. He looked at the young woman whose legs were trembling. He offered a polite tone, a calm and relaxed answer.

"I'm going to eat him." A simple five words escaped his mouth. There was no consideration, and certainly no compromise that was evident in his statement. He peered at Nimra, waiting for her reply. His eyes could see the twitching of her lips, she clearly wanted to say something.

"You can't do that, he's my dad...please don't." She pleaded. She was trying to reason with the nice boy she knew he could be, but the problem was that she didn't know he was already talking to him. This was as civil as Alban could be right now, plain and simple.

"But I'm hungry." Alban countered. A simple reply that carried really only one interpretation. His intent was clear, but he had still stopped.

"You can eat ANYTHING else. Just look around you, please..." The terrified girl carried the conversation, begging for the boy to see her side. He did, just not the side she was presenting right now. He pointed his blood covered fingers down at the old man on the ground, his gaze puzzled, inquisitive.

"...don't you hate him?"

Silence.

"He infuriates me. I'm angry, and I wanna eat him. Can I?"

"NO! You can't! He's my dad, okay?! You saved him the other day, you shouldn't be threatening him now!"

"Oh, so that's why. You love your dad, you don't hate him at all. Okay."

Alban took the answer and ran with it. It made sense to him, he could understand the bond between family. He turned around and trudged toward the forest, saying nothing more to Nimra.

"...but I don't like dads very much." That was the last thing he muttered before he sat his back against a tree and fell asleep.

Surprisingly, he wasn't alone. Chiyo had followed after him, still a bit afraid but worried for the youth's mental health. She was the only one who wasn't suffering, so she could afford to see a different perspective than Nimral or her father. Looking at Alban, she didn't see a savage or a monster beyond reasoning. She saw a lonely boy who didn't know any better, and frankly wouldn't. Better was a lie in the world of Nightmare, what he was doing was merely surviving. He did it in a harrowing way, but he was trying to live like everyone else.

Alban's wild aura receded back into his body, slumping a bit. His eyes fluttered upon and laid their sight on a shivering Chiyo, his brows creasing in confusion. "What are you afraid of? And why can't I remember anything?"

His mind felt fuzzy, and whatever had happened was blurred heavily, his memory nearly inaccessible. It reminded him of the rest of his memories before coming to Nightmare, only a couple of scenes were clear. He would've gotten up to investigate, but he felt really sleepy.

Chiyo heard his question, but kept her mouth shut. She hunkered down beside Alban before drawing him into a tight embrace. Whatever happened, it didn't matter to her. The boy before her deserved to survive, too, and she would stick by that. She had always been stubborn, and right now she felt unshakable. As Chiyo felt Alban's body relax in her arms, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Far away, a prophet and a daughter sighed too.

—-

Nimra didn't follow Alban into the forest, although her heart beckoned her to. Her brain was in control right now though, and she went about binding her father's wounds and ensuring he'd be able to heal himself when he woke up. Peering into the old man's gaping eyes, she felt reminded of a time in her past.

She realized she was angry. When her mother breathed her last, all that stupid man did was lazily stare at the corpse that lay on the bed. She resented him deeply for it, and was even further enraged when Nimral became lazier and lazier.

Nimra hated him, but she still loved him deeply. She may not have agreed with her father's decision, but that did not mean she would forsake him. Not even now. Her kin was all she really had left...and it would stay that way for a long, long time.

Nimra made up her mind, although she felt like it would hurt a lot later. She pushed her feelings deep down into herself, coming to the decision that she would avoid Alban from now on. It was the only way she could protect her only remaining family, and she couldn't bear to sacrifice her father for herself.