Requiem for an Aberrant Chapter 5: Chapter 5- Three Requests

Read chapter 5 of Requiem for an Aberrant by TheJestersGambit on NovelPedia.

After regaining his stamina, Cole finally realised what he was leaning on. It was a statue, quite a massive one at that. Standing up from the floor, he took a few steps back to truly take in the white monument out of place from his surroundings. It stood almost triple the height of a person, carved from stone that relished underneath the sunny sky. The figure it depicted was unmistakably triumphant. It had one foot planted atop a creature that twisted beneath them in agony, its tendrils half-outstretched. The person’s face was angled upward, lips parted mid-roar as they clutched their head, chest thrust out like the end of a legend. He held a blade overhead, arm stretched to Paradise ready to strike down on Vahnor. Yet, even in stillness, the lie seeped through. The victor’s eyes were absent and full of madness. As Cole circled the statue, he saw the rot crack. They ran through the joints of the figure’s limbs, leading to its fractured mind, hinting at the suggestion of something slowly consuming their mind. At the base of the statue, half-buried in mold, was a single sentence that glowed white, much like the statue itself: “The trial ends with the creature within...” Cole stared at the inscription longer than intended. The statue screamed victory, yet the air around it whispered doubt. The victor’s face wore the hollow mask of someone who’d always been pretending to have won. He let out a breath and sighed. “Somebody get this architect an award.” A flimsy joke to shove down the heaviness clawing at his throat. He wasn’t an expert on monuments, but this one… this one told a story he didn’t want to believe in. Nevertheless, he still respected the creator’s ability to carve a story into stone. It felt as though the story was a prelude just for him. With a grunt, he turned and stepped back into the underbelly of the Kingdom. Although he had quickly become a fugitive, he needed to stay for a bit. At least until he earned some money, or figured out where to go. He had no idea where Exrase might be, and navigating the Kingdom, small as it was, might be harder without funds. Bending down, he took a deep breath. The sound bounced off the walls of the drainage tunnel, reminding him of what he was about to do. He did have a plan, but it wasn’t one he would ever brag about. A boy with dirt smeared across his face and hair sat against a crumbling wall, nestled in the corner of a busy street. He clutched an old, chipped cup in his hands. His clothes were tattered, though he wore an oversized coat over them. Despite the warmth of the sun, the boy trembled, his shivering frame almost exaggerated. “Spare change, please!” Cole swallowed his discomfort, watching the passersby. Cole's body was trained, and his physicality was different to a homeless, frail boy. So he forced himself to wear this massive coat to conceal his fed build and scythe. The warm air and sunlight made him sweat under the coat, but he fought the instinct to adjust it. His act needed to be convincing. He continued begging for the one thing he didn’t have—Armond’s currency. Aelons. “Spare change, please!” Slowly, as people walked by, a few tossed him an Aelon or two, their eyes briefly scanning his dirty face and torn clothing before moving on. The cup grew heavier with copper and silver Aelons. From time to time guards would even run by and not recognise his filthy self. Cole nearly chuckled, knowing his ingenious brain had done it again. But he wasn't done yet. As he was preparing for the next round of his performance, his sights caught a funky girl walking by his direction. The girl wore a large coat and a grey hat masking her brown hair, her face hidden behind a thin scarf. It seemed she was wearing a disguise just like Cole, or just a very unique outfit considering the weather. A warm sensation prickled the front of Cole’s neck, a feeling that he had seen this girl before, just recently. He couldn't place it, but there was a strange pull in his gut, a sense that they sha