Evolution: Harbinger of Chaos

I awoke in the fog again.

Falling.

The wind whistled in my ears, and the haze wrapped around me like a shroud.

The fog was supposed to be my sanctuary—a comforting haze that shielded me from the horrors of the past and the uncertainties of the future. Yet, the hurt of the present had followed me in.

My chest ached so much it felt like it might cave in.

Somewhere, a voice whispered incessantly, growing louder with each repetition:

"I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life."

The voice sounded so familiar, like it was my own.

I wanted to scream back, but before I could, the sharp ring of clashing metal cut through my thoughts.

A splash of water followed, then the sound of shattering glass echoed all around me. The brief, agonizing cry of an animal tore through the air.

Then, silence.

A child's laughter rang out, soft and distant.

I was no longer falling.

The fog beneath me felt warm, the surface soft and familiar.

"Big bwother!"

A faint voice echoed, pulling me further from the haze.

"Big bwother!"

The voice grew clearer, insistent.

I forced my heavy eyelids open to a blurry view that slowly settled into memory.

A wooden ceiling came into focus, its grain worn and aged. The smell of wood filled my nostrils, accompanied by the faint scent of smoke from a half-burnt candle on a bedside stool.

"Big bwother!"

The voice came again, and I turned my head weakly.

Something soft collided with me, knocking the breath from my lungs. Tiny hands began slapping both sides of my face with unrelenting enthusiasm.

"BIG BWOTHER! How long will you be sleeping?"

"I—I'm awake! Ade—stop hitting me!"

She paused, tilting her head. "Ah, you weally awake?"

Finally still, I could focus on her: a tiny figure with ivory skin that glowed in the soft morning light filtering through the wooden window. Her big, curious red eyes glistened as she stared at me, her messy ebony curls sticking out in every direction, adorned with twigs and grass.

Adelheidis. My little sister.

Her energy was boundless, her reputation as the village handful well-earned. Even among the other children, she stood out—equal parts mischievous and endearing.

"Let's go and play, Bwother!" she chirped, bouncing on her toes.

"I'm tired," I groaned. "It's too early to play. Let me rest a little lo—"

"No! Papa says sleep is for the weak! The stwong will play!"

Her declaration was punctuated by more enthusiastic hopping.

"All right, all right! Stop jumping!" I sighed in defeat. "Where are Mother and Father?"

She stopped, suddenly serious. "Papa went to gad the bwothers, and Mama went to the… uh… the wise papies!"

"Guard the borders," I corrected with a small smile. "And rice paddies, not wise papies."

"That's what I said," she replied with utmost conviction.

With a groan, I reluctantly climbed out of bed, taking her hand as she dragged me through the house. Our wooden bungalow was modest, with two small bedrooms—one for my parents and the other shared between Adelheidis and me.

She burst through the front door, revealing a golden sunrise that bathed the village in warm light. People bustled about, tending to their morning chores.

Our village was small, nestled in the southwestern reaches of the Kingdom of Lordan. Life here was simple yet lively. Everyone knew each other by name, and the community shared a bond of safety and order.

"Wait for me, *****!"

The familiar voice pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see a girl about my height running toward us, her brown hair bouncing with each step.

"Katherina," I said softly.

Kate, my childhood friend, grinned as she skidded to a stop beside us. Her pale blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Where are you two off to?" she asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

"We're going to see fish!" Adelheidis exclaimed.

"Can I come too, *****?" Kate asked with a teasing smile, knowing I wouldn't refuse.

For a moment, something felt off. Her words tugged at a distant part of me, a confusion that sat heavy in my chest.

"*****?" she repeated, her smile faltering.

The name. It didn't feel right.

"Uh… sure," I said hurriedly, pushing the unease aside. "But won't your father get mad if he finds out?"

"He left early," she replied with a giggle. "Besides, I'll be fine as long as the other kids don't see me."

The stream was our favorite spot—a shallow clearing with smooth white pebbles and sparse ferns sprouting along the mossy banks.

"Bwother, this way! There's a fish!" Adelheidis called excitedly, pointing into the clear water.

Kate crouched beside her, nodding in agreement. "Hurry, hurry— wait don't hurry, *****! You'll scare it away!"

I sighed, crouching next to them. My eyes lit up the next moment.

It wasn't every day we got lucky enough to find a fish bigger than my little finger in this very shallow branch of the main stream, so even I got excited after sighting a long one trying to camouflage with the rocky floor.

With practiced precision, I picked up a rock, tensed my body, and launched it. The splash sent large ripples through the water.

"Did you get it?" Adelheidis asked, practically bouncing in place.

"I think so," I muttered, stepping into the stream to search. My fingers brushed against something slippery and twitching.

"Found it!" I declared, holding up a six-inch catfish.

Cheers erupted from the girls, their laughter filling the air.

For a moment, I felt a rare sense of accomplishment.

Then I saw it.

Reflected in the water was a face—a boy with red eyes and ebony hair. My face.

But something inside me screamed that it wasn't.

"Wake up," I whispered, my hand trembling as I touched my cheek.

"*****? What's wrong?" Kate asked, her voice laced with concern.

I forced a smile, holding up the fish. "N–nothing. Let's make a fire and cook this."

We spent the next few minutes picking up kindling.

Making a fire was usually one of the best parts about going out to play. Learning to do it right had been thrilling, and actually doing it was always so exciting.

However, today, I didn't have the liberty to enjoy that moment.

Just as I struck two rocks together, the peaceful moment shattered with a gut-wrenching scream.

"W—what was that?" Kate stammered, her face pale.

"It came from the village," I whispered, my chest tightening.

Without thinking, I grabbed Adelheidis' hand. "We have to go back."

~~~

The closer we got to the village, the louder the sounds of chaos became—screams, cries, and the clash of steel. Smoke curled into the sky, a black scar against the amber glow of the sun.

My heart thundered in my chest. Every instinct told me to turn back, to run far from the horrors ahead, but I couldn't leave.

"*****!"

A voice called my name, trembling and desperate.

I froze. I knew that voice.

"Mother!"

I called out, my voice cracking as I sprinted toward the source.

She emerged from the bushes, stumbling forward. The sight of her made the breath in my lungs freeze.

Her movements were slow, unsteady. Her frame swayed under an invisible weight. And then I saw it—two arrows jutting grotesquely from her back, their shafts slick with blood.

I couldn't move. The world around me tilted, spinning violently as my mind tried to process what I was seeing.

"M–Mother," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

She staggered closer, her face obscured by my fragmented memory, but her trembling hand reached out.

"Take... Adelheidis..." Her voice was weak, each word labored and broken. "Take her and run..."

My legs wouldn't move. My arms hung uselessly at my sides. All I could do was stare at the arrows, at the way her body jerked slightly with every shallow breath she took.

Blood dripped from the wounds, trailing down her dress and pooling at her feet.

"Run..." She repeated, her voice cracking. "Go... now..."

"M–Mother, I can't just leave you!" My voice rose, trembling with panic. "You need help! We can—"

"There's no time!" She rasped, her voice breaking into a wheeze.

Adelheidis tugged on my arm, her innocent eyes wide with confusion. "Mama? Why is Mama bweeding?"

My mother dropped to her knees, her strength failing. She tried to smile, but it was a fragile, broken thing.

"I'll be... right behind you..." She whispered. "But you must go. Now."

Her words shook me to my core, but her face, obscured as it was, held a finality that terrified me.

"Move!" She screamed suddenly, her voice cracking with desperation.

A rustling in the bushes behind her made my blood run cold. Shadows moved among the trees, and a guttural shout in a language I didn't understand tore through the air.

"Run!" My mother screamed again, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

I grabbed Adelheidis' hand and turned to flee, but something made me glance back.

It was then that I saw it.

An arrow pierced through her neck, its jagged head protruding grotesquely.

Her body crumpled forward like a marionette with its strings cut. Blood poured from the wound, soaking the earth beneath her.

"No!"

The scream tore from my throat as my legs faltered. I wanted to run to her, to hold her, but my feet refused to obey.

Adelheidis began to sob, her tiny hand clinging desperately to mine.

"Big brother, Mama— Mama is—"

"Don't look!" I shouted, my voice breaking. I spun her around, pulling her along as I stumbled forward.

The world blurred around me, my vision swimming with tears. My mind clung desperately to denial, repeating the same lie over and over again:

She's not gone. She'll catch up to us. She'll find us.

But somewhere deep inside, I knew the truth.

~~~

We ran until the cries of the village were swallowed by the silence of the forest. The dense canopy above blocked out the fading light, leaving us shrouded in darkness.

My chest burned with every ragged breath, my legs trembling beneath me.

"*****," Katherina's voice came from behind, shaky and weak. "We... can't keep going."

I stopped, glancing down at Adelheidis who was now sobbing quietly.

"W–we'll rest here," I said, my voice hollow.

I collapsed against the trunk of a massive tree, my body aching and bruised. Adelheidis and Katherina slumped beside me, their tear-streaked faces pale in the faint moonlight.

Adelheidis clung to my side, her tiny body trembling. "Mama's coming, right, Bwother?"

I hesitated, my throat tightening. "Y–yeah," I lied. "She'll... catch up."

But the image of my mother's lifeless body haunted me, her blood staining the earth like a scar I could never erase.

As the girls cried themselves to sleep, I stared blankly into the darkness, the events of the day replaying endlessly in my mind.

My heart aches with a hollow pain, a feeling so heavy it felt like it might crush me.

The fog began to creep in again, blurring the edges of my thoughts. A faint voice echoed in my mind, fragmented and uncertain:

Who am I?