The Pebble

I grew up in a regular family. My father, mother, my little sister, and I lived peacefully inside our small hut. Sure, we didn't have much, but it was nice and quiet. I wouldn't have traded that for anything—nothing at all. I would sacrifice everything just to experience that tranquility again. To hear my mother's nagging once more. To hear my father's thunderous laugh. To hug my little sister as she cowered in fear of spiders.

If only I had been able to do something that day, instead of just watching my father die... we would still be one happy family.

Rubble flew as the battle between the two men raged on. Both were evenly matched, which frustrated Alvin. As Tylan continuously parried Alvin's strikes, Alvin began conjuring more and more weapons—slashing only two or three times with each sword before conjuring another.

Tylan felt his blade slowly deteriorating as he continued to block Alvin's relentless assault. The two went back and forth for what seemed like over ten minutes. Eventually, Tylan saw an opening. In a split second, he kicked Alvin in the abdomen, launching him backward.

Tylan began catching his breath, tossing aside his destroyed blade for one that had been conjured by Alvin earlier in the fight.

Alvin crashed into a building, rubble and dust exploding outward. He slowly got up, now even more furious.

"YOU FUCKING MUTT!"

In that same instant, he lunged toward Tylan again, this time with a fist ignited in flames. Tylan, reacting quickly, parried the flaming punch with his forearm, the fire searing his skin with a stinging pain. With his other hand, he slashed, leaving the first major wound of the battle.

Alvin stumbled back, clutching his abdomen and wincing. His disfigured face contorted in pure rage. He ignited his hand, cauterizing the wound with fire.

"You're not half bad for a fucking mutt, I'll give you that," Alvin said, dropping his blade. "But your little game ends here."

Tylan stared him down, unimpressed.

"Shut the hell up. For someone who talks so much, you aren't jackshit."

Surprisingly, Alvin didn't rebuke him. Instead, he began to laugh. Covering his face with both hands, his laughter grew more and more maniacal.

"I'm going to enjoy tearing your fucking limbs apart and roasting them over a fire." In the blink of an eye, Tylan was sent flying backward, spitting out blood as he crashed into a building. Alvin followed immediately, appearing in front of him and kicking him to the right—then the left—then up—before finally slamming him into the ground.

"BWAH—!"

Tylan dropped to his knees, blood spilling from his mouth. He coughed violently, vomiting as Alvin slowly approached. Alvin grabbed Tylan by the hair, lifting his head and kneeling to meet his gaze.

"Remember this face you called deformed?" Alvin's smile was horrifying. "Because it'll be the last thing you see before you go to hell."

He began slamming Tylan's head into the dirt, again and again, blood splattering with each blow. Just as he was about to finish him off, a small pebble struck his back. He turned, eyes narrowing.

A child stood there—the same one Tylan had saved. The boy's mother tried to pull him away.

"Stop hurting mister!" the boy sobbed. "You monster!"

Alvin dropped Tylan and turned fully toward the child.

"I'm a monster?" he asked, smiling softly. "No, you've got it all wrong, child. I'm the good guy. I'm upholding justice in our town."

The child shook his head, still crying.

"No, you're a monster," he said. His mother tried to cover his mouth, but failed. "You hurt mister, and you even look like a monster, too!"Alvin's smile faded. His face turned cold—no, angry. He looked at the boy with annoyance.

"Children like you should learn to be quiet," he said, raising his palm. "Or else you'll be punished."

Flames ignited in his hand as he pointed it at the child and his mother.

"We have no use for idiotic citizens like you. I shall exterminate the two of you—for the greater good!"

Tylan, though injured and dazed, could still make out what was happening. No… not the child… He grabbed at Alvin's leg, trying to stop him.

Alvin looked down and stomped on Tylan's hand in disgust, then turned his attention back to the mother and child. He grinned maliciously.

"Goodbye."

Flare: Burst

Tylan watched helplessly, his eyes wide in shock, vision fading. He saw something horrific in that final blur: the execution of the innocent mother and son. Their screams of agony echoed in his mind, over and over again.

I couldn't save them. I watched them die. I watched someone die right in front of me while I was helpless again. No. No. No… This can't be right. Not again… Am I really this worthless? Why can't I ever do anything? Fuck. FUCK. FUCK!

Tylan's vision blurred, his mind going blank. The blood loss was too much. The pain succumbed him as he continued to bleed out.

As Tylan passed out, Alvin raised his hand to finish it. But suddenly, the same clerk who had given Tylan a room ran into the scene.

"S-Sir Alvin! Your father has arrived in town! He requests your audience immediately!"

The clerk bowed her head in fear. Alvin looked at her, then down at Tylan's limp body. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What an untimely appearance from my father," he muttered. "Very well. I'll go meet him. You—bring this mutt to the underground prison chambers. Get a team to clean up this mess."

The clerk nodded fearfully. Alvin dusted himself off and began walking toward the town hall.

Tylan woke up chained in a prison cell, water splashing over his face. One of the guards had doused him, slapping him a few times before leaving. He looked around at his surroundings, beaten and exhausted.

He had lost the battle against Alvin. He had been locked up. Worst of all, he had let two innocent people die right in front of him.

As his head drooped, a voice came from the shadows beside him.

"Boy, you look worse than me," the voice said. It belonged to an old, frail man. "You look like you'll die before I do…"