Utopia Shattered Ideals Chapter 3

A gust like a hurricane tore through the street, hurling two raiders into a wall so hard their bones cracked.
In the glow of the burning village, Tragir’s father stood like a dark figure wreathed in emerald light.
Wings of energy flared behind his back, beating once, twice — each beat sending another surge of cutting wind into the advancing horde.

“Keep them back! Protect the women and children!” he roared, his voice rising over the crash of splintering wood and the screams around them.

Each of his blasts tore off limbs.
Each strike shattered bones and skulls.
Yet the enemy numbers did not dwindle.

X, who had almost reached the battlefield with Tragir, stopped in his tracks.
Though strong himself, he understood at once that he could not help in this fight.

While Tragir drew hope from the sight of his father’s struggle, X saw the truth.

“They’ve already lost… there are simply too many.”

X yanked Tragir behind a half-collapsed wall and pressed him down into the ash.
The stones were still hot from the fire; the air shimmered with heat.
Smoke stung their throats.
Through a jagged hole in the wall they could see dark figures rushing past, the clatter of boots and steel too close for comfort.

“Please… just be quiet,” X whispered, his breath ragged.

Tragir froze, his wide eyes reflecting the red glow of the flames.
He realized that even their otherwise untouchable father could not protect them.

Seeing the panic on his brother’s face, X tried to reassure him.

“Tragir, it’s going to be all right. We’ll wait until Dad defeats them, and then we’ll escape with Mo—”

A dreadful thought struck him.

“Where’s Mom?”

He looked around in growing panic.

“A body? Mom? No.
A burned corpse? No.
A collapsed house? No…”

Almost analytically, X searched desperately for their mother.
Then realization hit him.

“The rock!”

He seized Tragir, lifted him up and held him tightly.

“Don’t you dare let go.”

Turning, he ran as fast as he could, trying to slip unseen through the burning alleys of the village.
His goal was the large rock his father had always kept in sight during battle.
Behind it, X hoped, their defenseless mother was hiding.

But just before they reached it, two armed attackers stepped out of a small alley to block their way.

X had to decide.
The raiders seemed to be sparing children and teenagers — for now.
He could surrender, and perhaps they would be safe for the moment.
But to these murderers?
Unthinkable.

He sped up, sharpened his focus, and tightened his grip on Tragir.
The first raider lunged.
X kicked off the scorched ground and drove his heel straight into the man’s jaw.
The attacker spun and dropped without a sound.
The second one stopped, his hand flashing.

“A knife?”

X tightened his grip on Tragir’s waist.

The moment he throws it…

Fling!

The knife flashed through the air.
X dropped into a crouch, pulling Tragir down with him, and felt the blade whip past just above his head.

He sprang forward, feinted left, then spun with all his weight behind the strike — his heel slammed into the raider’s temple.
The man crumpled, the knife clattering from limp fingers.

There was no time to take pride in his victory.
X rushed on toward the rock.
With a final, powerful leap he reached it unseen.

His hope proved true — their mother was there.

“Xenos… Tragir… you’re safe… thank God…”

“Mama, what’s that?”

Tragir pointed at the blade embedded in her abdomen.

“It’s all right, Tragir… it doesn’t hurt…
Xenos… listen to me carefully.
You must run…”

“No! I’m not leaving you! I’ll fight beside Dad! I’m not a chi—”

“Xenos…” She forced the word out, coughed, swallowed hard.
“You can’t… the battle’s lost. Please… take your brother and go.”

Tragir shook his head wildly. “No… we can save you… we’ll find a healer… please!”

Their mother gasped for breath.

“My child… I don’t think I’m going to make it…”

Tragir looked at the gaping wound in her belly and saw the blood pouring out without end.
He had never seen anything like it.
He recognized the truth but could not accept it.

“Tragir… Xenos… you are wonderful children.
You are the greatest gift God ever gave me, and I wish I could stay with you forever.
But you must flee.
Please.”

Tears streamed down Tragir’s face.

“Mama, please… I don’t want to go.
I want to stay with you!”

But their mother was at the end of her strength.
She whispered:

“I’m… I’m sorry, my little one… but I can’t stay with you…”

Blood began to trickle from the corner of her mouth.

“Be strong…
stay together…
I love you…”

Tragir sobbed as he held her hand, feeling it grow colder.
With one last weak breath she closed her eyes and was gone.

The world collapsed around him.
Pain and guilt swept over him like an unstoppable flood.
In that moment he understood: his mother had died because of what he had done.

Meanwhile, their father still fought — but with less and less strength.
He struggled to hold back the masses of enemies, an impossible task.
At last the inevitable happened.
Exhaustion slowed him, opening the first gap in his defense.
An enemy arrow pierced his side, followed by a sword thrust into his chest that drove him to his knees.

“Dad?!”

A cold shiver ran down the warrior’s spine as he turned toward his sons, who had come out from behind the rock and were crying out for him in despair.

“Tragir! Xenos!”

“Run! Run now!”

But it was too late.
A wave of attackers surged toward them.
In a final act of defiance he threw himself in front of his sons, blocking the weapons with his own body and gathering the last of his power.

His knees buckled under the weight of his wounds, blood soaking his torn tunic.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw his sons, wide-eyed and frozen in terror.

“I’m sorry…”

He planted his feet, wings spreading wide, and forced the last of his strength to gather between his palms.
The emerald glow brightened until it lit the smoke-darkened street like dawn.

A whirlwind rose around him, tearing the smoke-darkened sky open.
The wind was so strong it could be felt throughout the village.
The enemies sprang back in fear.
He aimed at them, his eyes burning with determination, and hurled the raging sphere.

“Die!”

Panic spread among the attackers.

“Out of the way!”
“We can’t stop that!”
“Damn it!”

The sphere tore up the ground beneath it.
Whole walls of houses were flung into the air.
A single touch meant certain death.
It was an attack that should have destroyed the enemy.

If not for that one man.

Just before the sphere struck, the merchant stepped into its path.
With an elegant, almost mockingly casual motion he raised his hand and snapped the sphere back toward the proud warrior.

The attack returned to its sender.
It exploded in a burst of green light and energy that lit the village in a blinding glare.
A deafening blast swept through the surroundings and echoed across the hills and valleys.
The impact hurled Tragir’s father to the ground, breaking every bone in his body and leaving it grotesquely deformed.

“Nooooooo!!!”

Tragir screamed as he saw his father collapse under his own attack.

The merchant stepped from the smoke unscathed, smiling.

Xenos grabbed Tragir, trying to flee — but it was hopeless.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

In less than a heartbeat the merchant appeared behind them and paralyzed Xenos with a light touch to the neck.
Xenos dropped to the ground.

Slowly the merchant turned to Tragir.

“Your father was strong… but stupid.
All that power, and he killed himself with it.
What an idiot.”

The man laughed mercilessly.

“But think about it — like father, like son.
You lowered the barrier because you didn’t want to be boring.
Wasn’t that an exciting show? — destroyed your own home, killed your own parents.“

He grew almost ecstatic.

“Too bad, they will never know that you were the star of the whole act!”

His voice was pure poison, reveling in the boy’s pain.

“And see for yourself: I’m a man of my word.
You caused more damage than I ever could have.”

His words were like cold knives piercing Tragir’s heart.
The boy’s body trembled with fear and anger.
His heart pounded, his eyes filled with tears.
He heard nothing but the echo of that cruel truth.

“He’s right… I’m to blame…
He kept his promise…
I killed Mom and Dad…
Because I didn’t want to be boring…
Why?
Why?
WHY?!”

The merchant shook with laughter and brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his coat.
He stepped closer to Tragir.

“You see, that’s just how the world works.
I don’t do all this just for fun.
It’s hard work.
You’ve got to make a living somehow, right?”

He grabbed the boy’s head and shook it.

“You understand me, don’t you?
We’re totally on the same wavelength!

After all, you did me a huge favor!
Thanks to you, I’m rich!!!”

Tragir was broken.
He had no strength left.
His body felt empty, his soul shattered.
Only one thing kept him conscious — the hatred growing in the darkest corner of his heart, for himself and for this world.

His thoughts turned dark.

“You did all this for money?!
You destroyed everything, tortured everyone, killed everyone…
for… money?!
What kind of people are you…?
No.
You’re not people.
You’re animals.
Savage… sick… beasts.”

The hatred spoke on inside him.

“I’m to blame?
No — you are.
And I must…
each and every one of you…
no matter how long it takes…
no matter where you hide…
as painfully as possible…
I will…
kill you.”

And with that, Tragir lost consciousness.

He woke to the creak of wheels on frozen ground, crammed together with the other “goods.”

The wagon stank of blood and smoke; Micael sat beside him, hollow-eyed, staring at nothing.Tragir lowered his gaze to his own hands.
They were streaked with soot… and his parent`s blood.

That night, as they rattled into the dark, two vows were born — forged from love, hatred, pain, and the thirst for revenge.
Vows that nothing, not even death, would ever break