Reanimated as Death's Bane

Burnt city

The swirling energy of the teleporter wrapped around Pete and the Dashkyr like a cool mist.

One moment, they were in an underwater hideout, inside a room full of teleporters then they stepped through one, a rush of cool air hit them, like they were floating uncontrollably in space. The next moment, their feet landed on the ground.

They had arrived at Manchik City, and instantly the portal faded behind them. Pete looked around the environment, trying to recall this part of town.

The tall buildings that once looked majestic now had missing parts crumbled to the floor in ash, the streets he remembered as busy with people were now empty with cracked pavements and weeds growing on the sides.

"I'm guessing you know where we are?" The Dashkyr inquired standing beside Pete. "This place looks like it's been through hell." It added.

"This is my hometown," Pete replied in a low tone. "But… It's worse than I remember. There used to be people here, follow me."

When he moved ahead, he couldn't recall anything. The buildings were too destroyed to determine which was which, so he used the clock tower as a guide. Looking at it from below, he followed the streets to get there.

But the closer they got, the slower Pete's steps became. He couldn't believe his eyes, the once elegant gold tower, with its two statue horses, was wrecked. The horses had collapsed and shattered, while the tower was charred and bent to the side, barely hanging on, as if a strong wind could push it over.

"It wasn't like this last time" Pete whispered, his voice cracked in disbelief.

Next, he used landmarks to navigate to the park. When it came into sight, Pete stopped cold, his eyes widened in shock.

Where he and his sister used to run and play was no longer a welcoming green field. The two stone lions at the water fountain were smashed into rubble, destroying the basin.

The once lively grass and trees were now a blackened mess, with a faint smell of smoke in the air. Pete felt a sharp pang in his chest, like a poke. This was where he shared his last moments with his family before leaving for the academy, and now it was gone.

"Let's get going." The Dashkyr muttered tapping Pete on the shoulder. "One day, all great cities will fall."

As they walked down the empty street, Pete thought about the places he had the best memories, and that led him to the spot where his old house stood.

It was a cozy little home on a quiet street, it had a garden at the side of the building where he would stretch before sunrise, then run to the city's training field.

There he practiced swings with a sword until his arms ached, sparring and training relentlessly.

When he arrived, his little sister Marilyn would be outside, waiting to welcome him with their ever smiling mother who always praised him.

Those moments were magical, happy, safe, and full of love. But slowly the memories shifted.

His heart grew heavy as he stared at the ash, recalling that terrible night. The house caught fire, and the flames consumed everything.

He had taken Marilyn out of the fire, but his mom got trapped at the entrance of his room. The bookshelf was ablaze, and it pinned her down. He tried lifting it, but he wasn't strong enough and the flames kept growing, so she pleaded with him to leave.

And when the rescuers finally got to her, her legs were burned and useless. After that day things were never the same.

Pete sighed, pushing the thoughts away as his eyes watered. He took one more glance at the ash then continued his journey.

The Dashkyr had questions but looking at his watery eyes and bitter expression, it knew now was not the time.

After cutting a few corners, they reached the street where his family had moved after the fire. The new house was smaller and plain compared to the former. But as they turned the corner, Pete stopped walking.

A lump formed in his throat. The house was gone, burnt to ashes, the only thing standing were the short broken walls. And that was the same for the buildings around it, all left in ruins.

Pete rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He slapped himself hard across the face several times, but when the alien grabbed his hand, he had to accept it. The house was gone and no one was left.

"Whyyyyyy!!!" He yelled facing the sky as his knees buckled and he fell to the floor. He lost everything. Hot tears rolled down his cheek as he kneeled, resting his palm on the concrete.

This was it, his world had crumbled, it wasn't just the buildings that burned, it was his childhood and everyone he once knew gone, he was alone in this world left to carry the scars. His mom, his sister, his best friend, and his teacher.

But something clicked in his memory, his teacher, that's the only place he hadn't checked.

"There's one place left to check," Pete muttered. He got up and wiped his face, then adjusted his coat.

His direction was the training hall and he hoped to see his teacher, Sir Crayon.

He moved further away from the burnt city, towards a small hill with an isolated building on it, parts of the roof had fallen and the walls had cracks like spiderwebs.

Pete was surprised by the state of the building, it was far better than the others he had come from.

He pushed open the large door with a creak. The large hall was in order, the floors were polished, the lights worked perfectly and the mats were well placed, but there was no sign of his teacher.

He went on to inspect the other rooms, but he noticed the rooms were still well organized with the scrolls, tables, and utensils.

When he opened the last door, something caught his eye, a weapon that stood out among the rest. Two identical Short swords with long hilts on a platform away from other weapons.

It was heavier than he expected, he swung it slowly, checking its balance like he practiced. It was perfect. He grabbed the sheath and wrapped it around his belt.

As he was about to leave, the lights in the building went off and he felt a prickle on his neck. Danger was close. As he moved to unsheath the blades, he felt a grip on his arm, and the next second, he was on the floor, staring at a shadow figure above him.

He tried to reach the blade again, but the figure stepped on his palm, stopping him, and the lights came on.

"Sir crayon?" Pete said, confused.

"I sneaked up on you, thinking you would put up a fight since you enrolled in the academy, but you haven't unlocked an ability yet." Sir Crayon sighed leaning on the wall.

The tall man had short brown hair gelled to the back, sharp, thin eyes, a muscular build, and a long sword on his back.

"Well, things happened at the academy, so I visited, and they assigned me a guard," Pete explained as he got up.

Sir Crayon smiled, rubbing his palm. He felt something was off but didn't say anything.

"That was your guard? Hmm, they should have assigned someone stronger. Well, I didn't do much damage. And I see you finally picked a weapon, after all these years."

He gestured for Pete to follow him to the main hall, where they sat on a mat. Sir Crayon apologized to the Dashkyr for the misunderstanding, offering some tea, but it declined and requested water.

"I know you have seen the condition of the city, it's not what you left." He sighed "There was a second war, the people retaliated to the first attack, they wanted the Dashkyr out of their city, but they refused, so the military intervened and turned the city into what you saw."

"The lands were poisoned by chemicals, and the waters were polluted, the people had to move to survive."

That statement brought hope to Pete, there were survivors, maybe his family could be among them, maybe not.

"Do you know where they went?" He asked.

There was a brief silence before he answered, he knew what Pete wanted.

"Well, they all moved to different locations, specifically, I can't tell."

"But I know your family should be at one of the military shelters. There they take care of the elderly, but the adults have to pay back by taking on jobs, and when kids get to your age, they get enrolled in their academy."

"If you're ready we can begin our journey, but you're going to need a pair of shoes and proper clothes."

Pete was given a black top and sweatpants with a pair of training shoes, they fit better than the lab coat.

They began the journey with Sir Crayon leading the way. After walking for hours, Pete was tired, but his teacher informed him that the journey was still miles ahead, and immediately the Dashkyr left them.

"Where is he going?"

"I don't know about him." Pete responded.

In seconds he was out of sight, but they continued their journey. Pete thought it couldn't hold his form anymore, so it made a smart decision.

But his thoughts were interrupted by a black van with six large wheels approaching them at high speed. They jumped out of the way before it hit them.

Then the van suddenly halted and the door swung open.

"I figured out those guys at the checkpoint don't need it as much as we do."

The person they thought had run away had hijacked a van for them.

Pete's mouth hung open in surprise, how did this thing know how to drive?

Minutes later they had arrived at the shelter. The vehicle was parked away, and they trekked to the shelter gates. Sir Crayon did most of the talking and the guards let them through.

Before them were eight tall buildings about four stories high and a large hangar in the center, which was their direction.

Inside he was given a warm welcome, like they were expecting his arrival with refugees as always.

But that wasn't it, he told them Pete was from the academy and he had come to see his mother. But the guards disagreed.

They demanded that Pete prove his identity by letting them scan his prints. He humbly agreed.

But then, he remembered he was sent to the labs to be dissected, but he escaped. What if that information came up?

His heartbeat sped up, but he placed his thumb on the scanner, waiting for the worst. His profile came up, and there was nothing extraordinary.

He gave them his mother's name. Claudia Morrow, but he found out she left two weeks ago to stay with her family. Pete was confused, but he kept his composure. He called his sister's name, Marilyn. But they had no records on her.

Pete requested his mother's location, but they refused, saying only she can give permission for that.

A call was placed, and it rang twice before she picked up. "Good day, Mrs Claudia, this call was requested by Pete Morrow. Do you happen to know him?"

Her voice was filled with joy on the other end. "Yes, yes, he is my son. Is he there with you? Please, I would like to speak with him."

Pete was handed the device, and a smile formed on his lips the moment he heard his mom's tender voice. "Pete? Oh, my sweet boy, is that you?"

"Mom!" He called out, sniffing a tear in. "I missed you so much, Mama. Where are you? How have you been?" But there was no response.

The guard then cleared his throat. He had ended the call, and he gestured for Pete to hand over the device.

After a few minutes, they handed Pete a digital map in the form of a watch set to his mother's location.

When Pete left the shelter he thanked Sir Crayon by dropping him off, even when he protested. They followed the path on the map, but the further they went, the more the city transformed, it was full of people and magnificent houses.

It looked odd compared to the other parts of the City. Soon they arrived at the location, an elegant white building with other identical ones lined beside and opposite it.

After pressing the doorbell, the door swung open, and he was greeted by a stranger, a handsome young man with a sharp trimmed beard. "Can I help you?"

But Pete noticed a woman standing beside him peeking, then he pushed the door to get a better view. He recognized her calm hazel eyes and smooth pearl like skin, with her bun packed hair.

"Mom? What's going on?" Pete asked twitching his brow.