Premonition (Chapter 5)

He was there…That night, bombs fell from the sky, shattering the earth into a million pieces like fragile pottery. Screams of the dying constantly filled the hazy air. Prayers for the dead, echoed throughout the whole of Balthazar, interrupted only by the noise of the train, stowing away the future generation somewhere safe.
Miss Elaine Volcaloid was never one to follow rules or listen to anyone for the matter of fact, especially since she secured the post as headmistress at The Northern Lights School For The Gifted. War or no war, she insisted that the children’s education be continued. Due to her selfish wishes which benefitted her more than it did the students, she prolonged their stay which proved to be an almost fatal mistake.
Syn woke up to the sound of bullets and battle cries. Carleon soldiers had broken through the school’s barrier and were now making their way across the grounds. Grabbing nothing but his knapsack which was never touched since before the war, he skidded out into the hallway where it appeared that some of the other students were awake and alive as ever. Some shouting in hysteria, some issuing orders to remain calm and exit in an orderly manner, prefects no doubt, and some boasting about how they could take on the soldiers themselves. Many chose to stay put, mocking the others for being so cowardly as to run away right before the enemy. They soon thought otherwise for no sooner than these words left their mouths that the enemy had kicked down the doors.
It was a bloodbath. Left and right, dead bodies slid to the floor. Blood stained the walls and oozed out of every nook and cranny. . They never had a chance.
The main campus was the first to go up in smoke, the remaining survivors were taken underground and through a secret passageway that was over a century old and was threatening to give way at any given moment. Some of the boys sobbed at the sight of their precious items being consumed by flames and reduced to ash. Others shed a tear for the memories they had to leave behind. Syn did neither. The only thing that ever mattered to him, existed beyond the world of consciousness.

When he was born, he was pronounced dead even before he came into the world. The infant was left on the pavements of the town’s cemetery, awaiting the incinerator. However, on that faithful night, a visitor of the deceased noticed movement among the bundles of black sheets upon the stone paths.
Throughout his life, Syn had never known the feeling of being wanted. He was even named for the unspeakable deed of his supposing resurrection, which was rumored to have cost him his late mother’s untimely death. Died a week before the wedding, they whispered. That was her punishment for having a child out of wedlock, some scoffed. She never had a chance to even name her child, the poor dear, others said out of pity.
His name meant an act that violated all things good and pure. His unique name grew to be infamous throughout the land. Syn had lived in boarding schools as long as he could remember. He was forcefully shipped off to first school that would accept him. His supposing guardian paid for his tuition but remained ever a mystery. Never revealing his identity and also never to have contacted the infamous child. Nobody knew who he was, or if he even existed. As for Syn himself, he continued to live like a quiet puppet. A puppet that was despised for something that was beyond his control.
His life was meaningless, without an objective, without a goal, without a purpose, without something to truly look forward for. There were no memories that meant anything to him. No one he trusted in this world…
As he settled himself in a solitary coach, he closed his eyes and awaited sleep to deliver him from his numbness. Although the train was full, nay, overflowing, Syn remained alone. While falling asleep, he heard the shuffling of feet go past his coach, over and over again, but never to enter.
He was a quiet boy. Even from birth, he was believed to have never uttered a single word, not that anyone wished to talk to him, it’s just that it wasn’t worth it. From his early years, he had learned that sneers weren’t exactly a friendly gesture. There was nothing to speak up for, and no one to listen, so why bother trying?
Whether it was merely a dream or indeed a fragment of a memory, he had come to the boy one night. He appeared before the boy like death itself, staring at him with nothing but black empty eyes, which enabled him to peer straight into his tormented soul. His breath reeked of decayed flesh, his form made of thing but shadows.

Syn remained ever composed. He watched silently as the strange demonic-like creature glided up to him. He slowly circled him like a predator toying with his prey. He could feel his foul breath seep into the very atmosphere. He felt the air around him turn cold as the dry, cracked remnants of what used to be human lips, parted to speak. It was as if a million voices were whispering to him at once. All saying but the same thing ;

For thou belong'est
Only to me,
Twas I that saved thee,
Now, thou must pay fee.

Do my bidding,
And suffer less,
Do defy me,
And I shall show thee death.

Head my warning,
Oh, Angel of Death,
Though thou take'est human form,
I count thy every breath.

That event was forever burned into his memory, but yet no matter how hard he tried, he could never quite remember when it had happened. All he knew was, it was there...and it was there to stay.

That scene would appear in his dreams, night after night, but each time, the appearance of his demonic guardian would change drastically. One night, he was set ablaze. The blue-black flames hiding his face under a shifting hood. He would appear as the grim reaper himself at other times, scythe in hand, dark holes lurking from the bleached white skull. That was, until of recent.

As he stood in the darkness, awaiting the devil himself, he felt the wind bring with it, the sound of someone crying. It started to rain in his dream, soaking him to the bone. In the distant corner of his mind, he could see the outline of what seemed to be a figure curled up into a ball. He walked towards the sound. The cries proved to be coming from a girl, no doubt. He stood behind her, watching as she struggled to breathe between sobs.

Syn wasn't sure what came over him, but he knelt down and touched the the girl's shoulder. She stopped abruptly and turned to face him. He was stunned as she continued to stare at him from her tear-stained face. Neither had she ran away nor turned her head in disgust. Only pleading with him from her oh so expressive eyes to make all in her world, right again. Everything was understood without a single word being said.

When he awoke that day. He remembered only very little of his encounter. The first was that the demon was no longer there reminding him every single night about the deal he never made. The second was that a strange girl had appeared to him in a dream. The third was that she wasn't afraid of him. The fourth and most important was that for the first time in his life... someone needed him.