Wishmaker Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Read chapter 1 of Wishmaker by Larch on NovelPedia.

Waiting quietly in a dimly lit room was a man holding onto a torn book. He sat on the cracked wooden floor, staring at the manual with a blank look in his eyes. It wasn't expensive or special to him. Just a plain-looking book with a worn cover that could crumble whenever he put too much force into his grip, barely holding itself together with a single string wrapped around it. But it was something he received as a sort of reward for finally having his achievements recognized, so maybe it was forgivable that he felt sentimental towards it, though short-lasting. The room he was staying in was far from the safest option, with shards of glass and wood splinters littering the floor he lay on. The ceiling was split in two as if with a giant cleaver, bearing a straight hole through which moonlight poured down on his spasming body. With bleeding hands and torn clothing that was caught in the glass, he found himself a place in a corner of the cabin, waiting for something. He himself had forgotten to count the number of times he fell in such a situation. All alone, hopeless, and without a way out from there. Tak! The thick scent of blood poured out from outside, disturbing his peace. A sound of footsteps came from the other side of the room, bringing his lifeless gaze towards a tall figure whose shadow made a chill run down his spine. The heel of their boot tapped against the wooden floor, so meticulously calculated that he thought the person was matching his heartbeat on purpose, always missing intentionally whenever his breath hitched. He wanted to run away, scream his heart out at the world that made him feel that way. But it was too late. How much more... Too late to change his actions, which he took without thinking, too soon to think of a future where he could live peacefully. It was all he wanted to do, all he thought of when he came to this world with a naive mind of his own. His face contorted with anger, watching the room twist and turn in front of his eyes; his life was coming to an end. "How long do I have to suffer for you to be satisfied with it..." His body, which should have been rendered dysfunctional, slowly stood up from the floor, fastening his grip over the half-torn book under his arm. The figure through the shadow stood above him, a head taller than the bleeding man whose face was covered in cold sweat and tears of dry blood. His eyes, originally deep blue, were hollow and crimson, burning with pain just by keeping them open. Something inside him stirred as he took a sharp breath, raising his face to try and meet the shadow's outline just to absentmindedly stare up at the pleasant sky. "Is this... what it means to die?" Mumbling with his cracked lips, he flinched at the cold wind caressing his wounds. Above his head, a golden cloud had manifested, covering the blue moon with its light that fell on him, bringing him internal warmth. But how... what have I done to deserve this? It was a gift sent down from the heavens for those whose souls were long forgiven for their sins, appearing above them at the moment one's death was approaching. His mind was in a daze as he watched the cloud flicker and breathe like a living creature, exhaling clouds of sparkling dust that scattered all around the cabin. ...How? He wasn't a good person. Honestly, any person on the street would be a better pick to go to heaven, whose light was caressing his shuddering body. He was a sinner, and he knew that. He stole, destroyed, and harmed everything around him. He was a murderer. A goddamn murderer who would have been killed on sight if it were a human judging him. "So why!" He screamed out to the heavens, looking up at the light above him. "Why have you accepted me!" "What have I ever done to deserve being treated like this?" He gritted his teeth at the shadow, making it flicker and take a step back. With his broken hands, he held up a sword that had been at his side all this time, hidden inside an old scabbard barely visible because of how