The Burden Of Knowledge

There are two types of people you should know. Yourself and the people you love. A man who does not know himself is bound for failure, destined to waste his life searching for something he does not believe in, and a man who does not know those he loves is bound to lose them in a fit of lunacy.

This is what Somen believes. He walks this earth, one step at a time, with this thought in mind. What he has to do is know what he wants, and know what Lorette wants.

As he is thinking, a neatly brushed, golden-brown steed approaches them, its hooves imprinting on the damp grass. It neighs and the rider reigns it in as it is attached a leash connected to a cart made of sturdy metal and finely polished wood. Soon later, they bring in another horse, more frizzy, a bit wilder, but it would get the job done.

The talks with Stephen earlier goes like this. He asked them what they excelled in, Loretta explained her attunement to machinery and Somen told him he's good at reconnaissance. Stephen situated Loretta in the workshop while Somen was given a task to act as a guard for the merchants who had a pass to the Seldom. He was to work with a few of the rebels, those of which include Shay(his supervisor), a black-haired man clad in a leather tunic laced with finely welded iron and leggings made of similar structure, and a blonde-haired lad dressed lightly with a loosely fitted white shirt and pants.

The man clad in armor had a long broadsword by his hip, a shield in his left hand, and his belt seems to be tucked full with potions, albeit, they all don't seem effective. The more casually dressed person had a dagger secured to his pocket, and.. that was all.

The leash had finally been secured and they were instructed to hop on the cart and were given explicit warnings to not touch the merchandise. The merchants were the ones riding the horses, so all the rebels had to do was keep watch for any monsters that may attack.

The people Somen shared a cart with all seemed rather experienced. Without much word, they decided that the best way to split the job was to have one person look on one direction and the other one covers the remaining. They said that shifts should be taken.

It was only then too that they did their introductions. The armored man said his name was Trevor Wallace, the other one was Ren Fallad.

They were bound for a long journey.

***************

Click Clack Tap Tap

That was all they heard for hours on end. The sound of the horses walking and the spinning of the wheel. The idea of sitting idly irritated Somen. It was his first time having his feet above the ground. He was the one riding the cart, not pushing it. Ren and Trevor seemed disinterested and rather bored, while Shay laid back and took a nap while waiting for her shift to come. Somen bit his nails in frustration, chip chip chip. 

Ren took notice quickly.

"Uh, can you not do that?" He pleaded.

Somen jumped back and gripped the walls of the cart to tether his energy somewhere. 

"Dude, chill!" Ren followed. He scratched the bridge of his nose and said, "It's not like we're going off to die."

Somen made an unpleased look and murmured, "Might as well."

Ren kicked his legs and threw his arms behind his head, "The job's only gonna take a few days, sit back and relax. Treat it as a vacation."

A vacation? What's that? Somen wondered.

"Plus, you look terrible. Go get some sleep." Ren suggested.

Somen fell into deep thought as he watched the scenery fly by quicker than ever before. They passed by a grassy meadow endowed with the smell of hay, a small river that cried thumping slushes of water, mountains simmering in granite and a thickened layer of green, and the most enchanting of all, a path paved with smoothly rounded rocks accompanied by an assortment of irises, sunflowers, marigold, and half bloom tulips. The scent of the flowers had found itself stuck in their clothes, so they could bask in the smell of budding flowers a tiny bit longer.

At the end of the path was a crossroad leading to two different paths. To the left was the shorter one, to middle Capital Seldom, and to the right was the much more arduous one leading to the Upper Capital Maltrom.

As the sun set in the west and the color of the sky turned to a mix of orange and red, they decided it was time to set up camp. They set it up near the roadside, having thought that the clearing would make it easier to see any monsters if they approached.

Trevor settled in the tent and shouted from the inside, "Shay and the new kid! It's your turn to keep watch."

Shay woke from her slumber and grogged, "Loud.. You're too loud." She stretched her arms and hopped out of the cart. She then saw Somen and in a hasty concerned voice, said, "You look like you haven't slept at all."

He replied back with a blunt face, "I haven't." while pacing back and forth, looking as if he was in thought. 

The truth was that he had nothing in his mind. He scratched his head and paced faster.

Shay had always thought Somen was a good natured kid. From the days when he brought her firewood. He just never seemed like he could put his feet down. It was understandable that he didn't know what to do, now that it isn't a necessity for him to always be moving.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and asked him to sit down.

She began with a soft and gentle voice, "The world around you is changing, I get it. I was like you when I first escaped. Always restless. It feels like something is going to jump out of the ground and pull you right back where you were."

She continued, "But you don't have to be like that anymore. Where you are right now is safe. Stephen isn't the kind to pull the rug underneath you like Brume would. He isn't the type to sell you out like Hyde did."

It was as if having a parent. Then again, Shay was a parent. Somen fiddled his thumbs. This was a moment that needed a lot of his words to be filtered.

He stood up and started pacing once again. Shay was unamused, but the look on Somen's face told her that he wasn't doing it out of irony either.

He lacked respect for her words, or put more accurately, he couldn't get behind them.

"Miss Shay." He stopped, as if to show his sincerity, "I've seen a lot of people squander their whole lives. There were a minimum of seven different ways they could have lived their lives. That wasn't the case for me. I was born with one choice. To survive. To do that, I couldn't waste a single second. Everyone there would find a way to throw hours away. Yet they complain about the lack of time once deadlines arrive."

His heart was racing. The moments that he spent in peaceful silence, watching the horses travel through the sceneries, it all felt pointless in the end. A moment spent without making money, thinking of making money, or doing something to make money, is time wasted.

He escaped that hellish place for this reason. He needed options. Choices. He knew Miss Shay didn't know that. Miss Shay was the one who ended up there in that terrible place due to her bad decisions. She sat idly, waiting for her parents to solve their financial problems. She told Somen this story a hundred times while he cleaned her dust filled rooms.

The moment he sits down and twiddles his thumb, that is a moment lost. Time that he can't--

Regain?

His eyes widened. There he saw the open night sky with a hundred stars all split across as if they're all running away from each other. In truth, their distance is even farther than he could ever foresee. You could draw imaginary lines for them, that wouldn't matter. They wouldn't come running to each other just because you willed it.

But this conversation doesn't matter to the question at hand. Somen is rushing, but why? He finds himself in a conundrum wherein he has practically infinite time. 

Ideologies often clash with limitations. Believing that you should follow your dreams is an option for the rich. An option that wasn't available to Somen. The same goes for his ideology of not wasting time, the only option he had. Now that he has infinite time, he could theoretically..

No, nevermind. My sister and I are still in danger. I can't lower my guard just yet. Keep moving. A shark will die when it stops moving. I cannot--

"--Somen!" Shay whispered, "We need to run, now!"

"What? Why?" 

Then a vision overcame Somen. Like a scene flashing before his eyes. He sees a massive wolf with a shadow that covered them, a beast's howl that ruptured his ears. He tries to run, dust covers his eyes and he feels the sensation of being kicked in the chest, to be fed to the wolf.

Then he comes back to the scene of Shay shaking him, telling him to wake up. The shadow starts to appear. The looming sense of death as the moonlight is devoured by their reaper. There is a hundred other howls, all higher pitches, like newborn babes invited to their supper.

Words clogged his throat. Like mucus trapping the walls of his vocal chords, urging him to run away from what made him speechless. His heart beat slowly and like a rising crescendo, it became faster and louder. His ears, while not yet deaf, started to drown the sound of footsteps growing more rapid, as if accepting that his death was close, and that he needed the world's silence.

He saw the scene unfold once again. The shadow that ate the world's light come upon them, the ear-shattering howl, the dust kicking up and the sensation that his ribs cracked.

He didn't know what would happen beyond this. 

"Somen, run!" Shay ran in between the open jaw of the wolf and Somen. Offering her as sacrifice so Somen could run. 

It's not like Somen was made for this. He is just a kid that got lucky. 

The wolf swooped as swiftly as an eagle hunting their pray and her flesh teared into pieces faster than a grinder could rip her apart. Her blood sprayed all over, as if ready to paint the world red. 

The sound of her bones cracking finally woke Somen up from his fear-induced coma and he cried out the words.

"Bazoonga!"

***************

Somen vomited, his puke lost in the infinite void of space. The Handler matched his pitiful gaze. He was but a child still.

[Heaven berates you for your cowardly actions.]

"Oh get lost!" The Handler snarled. She crouched beside Somen and caressed his back gently. "It's okay." 

Somen kept vomiting until nothing was left. After he stopped, The Handler had this to say in a rather stern yet requesting manner.

"Will you stay for a while?"

Despite remaining bilious, Somen wiped the side of his mouth with his sleeve and ambled to his seat. His eyes stared at the steak served properly in a plate, gravy to the side.

"Hmm.." The Handler pondered, "You must have questions."

Somen cried a weak, "Why?"

"Don't fret, nothing is lost. Shay will come back the moment you regress." She reassured, then played with her knife and fork. "But don't you have other questions?"

His eyes shifted to the sound of her knife scraping along the glass of the plate, "What.. were those visions I saw?"

"Does it not strike you what your profile entails?" She waved a hand at him, making his profile appear and something more.

[Somen Elkin, Level 1, Titles: The Time Thief, Skills: Regression]

[Stats: Strength: 10, Agility: 15, Endurance: 20, Intelligence: 7, Wisdom: 13, Magical Strength: 0, Magical Knowledge: 0, Foresight: 3, Bluff: 17]

[Stat points remaining: 0]

"Oh dear," She recoiled in surprise, "So you do know."

"Know what?"

"I honestly didn't expect your bluff stats could work on me." She bobbed her head, "A miscalculation."

A look of genuine confusion washed over Somen's face.

"No, what is this?" 

"Are you telling me you assigned these points without knowing?"

He lowers his head and nods.

"Hm." She hummed, "Well, those visions were caused by your foresight stat. Since yours is a low level, you could only see a few seconds into the future, and without the consequences."

"Oh," He faltered, "I could have.. saved them."

She cut a part of the steak and ate it. She garbled, "You still can." 

A light sparked inside Somen's eyes. His feet were itching to move now.

"Stay a while will you?" She pleaded.

"No can do." Somen replied as he rushed over to regress once again.

[Heaven is interested in Somen's temperament.]

The Handler caterwauled, "He's mine, back off!"