The Wall of Sins

God! Who are the Forsaken? Where do they come from?

Faron's whispered question hung in the musty air of the small bookshop. Shelves crammed with worn volumes leaned haphazardly against the walls, and the faint smell of old parchment floated about. Faron stood by a dusty shelf, fully absorbed in the text he held.

Behind him, Lyn sat slouched at a narrow wooden table, propping her cheek on her knuckles. Her bored eyes flicked between Faron and the occasional passerby who peered into the shop's window.

"Faron," Lyn complained. "Why must you always come here?"

Faron didn't respond; he seemed entirely immersed in the words before him:

They are like you, Pure One. They are human, but they are also different. They are the children of three pure men like yourself—descendants with the purest lineage…

"Faron," Lyn groaned more loudly, her arm sliding off the table as she rested her head on it.

"Just a little longer, Lyn," Faron said without looking up. His tone was absent, eyes still scanning the pages. "Walk around for a bit if you're bored. I'll join you soon."

"Idiot…" Lyn grumbled under her breath, closing her eyes in defeat.

If they are from a Pure One, why were they punished alone? What about the rest of humanity at that time? Faron's heart quickened at the questions posed by the text. He flipped the page eagerly, just as a stern tap landed on his shoulder.

"Young man, you can't stand here and read all day," scolded an elderly man with a bushy gray mustache, his voice gruff. "This is a shop, not a library. You want it, you buy it."

"Mr. Ray, please," Faron pleaded, clutching the book a little tighter. "I'm at a really good part."

With a firm tug, Mr. Ray pried the volume from his hands, sliding it back onto the shelf. "If I let everyone read for free, I'd go out of business. Either pay or leave."

Shoulders drooping, Faron sighed. He glanced at his worn boots, knowing his scant allowance would never cover the cost. Reluctantly, he turned around and shuffled over to Lyn, who was half-dozing.

He leaned down, tapping her forehead gently with a finger. "Lyn, time to get up."

She scrunched her face but remained still.

"I'll buy you some ice cream sticks," he coaxed, mustering a smile. "How about that?"

At that, Lyn's eyes sprang open. "Let's go, then," she agreed, breaking into a grin.

Faron shook his head, amused. "All you think about is food, huh?" He laughed lightly. "Come on, I'll make sure you get your fill."

He took her hand, guiding her out of the cramped shop and into the bustling street beyond. They were immediately surrounded by the chatter of vendors and the shuffle of passersby. Sunlight glinted off windows and signboards, while the smells of roasted nuts and sizzling street foods mingled in the air.

"Faron," Lyn began suddenly, her tone shifting from playfulness to concern. "When do you plan on working? Your mom is always at her job, and I never see her rest."

Faron's expression grew pensive. "It's easier said than done," he replied. "Everyone wants someone with schooling, and as you know, my mom can't afford that for me. I try to study on my own, but there's so much I don't understand."

"I can tutor you," Lyn offered, sincerity in her voice. "And my dad said he'd hire you if you just asked. Why won't you take his offer?"

"And rely on charity?" Faron grimaced. "My mom raised me to stand on my own two feet, just like she does. How do you think she'd feel if I took an easy handout?"

"But what are you going to do?" Lyn pressed gently. "I'm worried about her. She treats me like family, and it hurts to see her work so hard."

Faron forced a small smile, then flicked Lyn's forehead softly. "Don't you worry about that. I'll figure something out."

In truth, he'd tried countless odd jobs—sweeping streets at dawn, cutting wood in the outskirts, clearing manure at farms—but nothing stuck for long. He never complained, though; he simply kept searching.

Lyn ruffled his hair with an affectionate grin. "Let me treat you today," she insisted. "You always pay for everything. I get a decent allowance, you know."

"You keep that," Faron said, shaking his head. "I have money." But his words faltered as a sudden jolt of pain shot through his chest, causing him to stagger.

His face flushed, and he clutched his shirt. His breath came in shudders.

"Faron?!" Lyn gasped, dropping to her knees beside him. Her face went pale. "What's wrong?"

A strange voice echoed in Faron's head: You sinner!

His mouth parted, and a thin trickle of blood ran down from the corner of his lips.

"F-Faron!" Lyn tugged on his sleeve, her attention suddenly snapped skyward. "Look!"

Faron forced himself to inhale and turned his gaze up. Thousands of birds flooded the sky like a living, swirling cloud, their cries shrill and chaotic. The pain in his chest slowly receded, replaced by a growing sense of dread.

All around them, people were pausing mid-step, pointing at the avian horde. Street vendors abandoned their stalls, while others dashed indoors, calling loved ones to shelter. Fear spread like wildfire through the crowd.

"T-they're flying so fast!" someone exclaimed, voice quivering. "What's happening?!"

A small stone rolled up against Faron's foot, and he bent to pick it up. The moment his fingers touched it, the rock crumbled into dust, sifting through his trembling hands.

"W-what…" Faron's voice cracked, disbelief etched on his face.

A sharp gust of wind suddenly howled down the street, lashing everyone with dust and debris. Shop signs rattled violently, and tin rooftops clanged. Pebbles pelted people's arms and legs, leaving them wincing in pain.

"Ah!" Lyn shrieked as she nearly lost her footing. Faron quickly grabbed her, shielding her from the stinging swirl of grit with his own body.

"Faron, what is going on?" Lyn's voice trembled, her face pressed against his chest. "I hear something... it's—"

Before she could finish, a low, resonant horn blast reverberated through the skies, as though a giant trumpet played a single, somber note. The sound was bone-chilling. Faron squinted upward, glimpsing what looked like a colossal silhouette beyond the thick clouds—something holding a massive trumpet.

Lightning forked suddenly across the darkening heavens. A downpour followed almost instantly, the raindrops so forceful they stung like hail. Screams rose in every direction. Children clung to parents, and street vendors abandoned carts to topple and roll away in the brutal gusts.

Oh, Pure One, there will come a time when the lock will fall! The Forsaken shall traverse the lands once more…

The words echoed in Faron's head, flashing like an alarm in his mind. He gritted his teeth, pulling Lyn closer.

"Lyn," he whispered, panic lacing every syllable.

She clutched his shirt, eyes brimming with fear.

"Lyn!" he repeated, louder this time, jolting her from her daze. "We have to find our parents—now!"

"But… what's happening?" Lyn's voice shook, tears threatening to spill.

"I don't know," Faron answered, glancing up at the swirling birds, the flickering lightning, and that impossibly large shape in the sky. His body quivered in equal parts terror and adrenaline. "But I have a terrible feeling…"

He swallowed, dread simmering in his chest. Through the rain and the screaming, as winds lashed and thunder cracked, one thought burned in his mind:

…things are about to get much, much worse.