The Inferno Ascending

Home?

Meanwhile, on the other end.

Jax recalled everything like it happened a moment ago. Leaving him to bask in questions, questions that had no legitimate answers. Dragging his knees to his chest, he sat on wads of straw in the trunk of a rusty truck. Since he had landed in the cornfields, Jac lost his way. He knew nowhere.

Jax pleaded with the aged men to drive him to the place that they were headed. Luckily, they agreed to help the young boy.

“We are headed for Pax City, it's several miles from here!” one of the aged men said to him. Jax was used to being cared for by dozens of maids, male servants, and soldiers. His favorite of all was Ki, his father’s second in command.

“It's great!” Jax said under my breath. He was weakened to the core, and it felt like his limbs had just been fractured, and his bones had been crushed into shreds, but it slightly baffled him that he was rapidly recovering.

“I am indeed a curse! What sort of ability is this?” he asked himself, still as confused as ever. His head ached the moment he tried to push and suppress the thought of the incident at his father’s manor.

Slowly, the event flashed before him. The rage and defeat that burned in the eyes of his father plummeted deep into his skin. He could see it—he was helpless but not complete.Jax stood amidst the horrendous blaze, staring at his father and uncle, exchanging vicious blows and powers that gleamed blue-like rays.

He didn't know what else to do. Knowing that he couldn't go across to find Mother or Jaz or anyone, crippled his body to its lowest form of deformity.

Even the tears that hung in his temples simmered against his face.Fisting his petit hands, letting the fury inside him burn effortlessly, he couldn't watch his father get defeated by the man he hated since the day he was brought into the world.

Even his parents had told him that he barely giggled when his Uncle, Lotham, carried him. Jax took the next step to march forward, but then Father’s eyes told him off.

They said the opposite of his intentions.He signaled Jax not to come any closer. Moreover, he stretched out his hand in Jax’s direction, and pivoted the remaining energy he had left to propel him past the thick walls of the manor with a strong invincible pressure that overcame his thirst to defend him.

Jax found himself kilometers away from the manor, bracing for what lay ahead. He thought about how he had fallen onto the corn farm.

A demon and an arch-enemy—that was how I envisioned his future unfolding.

The flash of the ugly memory faded when one of the men spoke up.

“Aye, kid? We are here! City of Pax!” the aged man, who seemed kinder than the other one, called out in a rough voice. He had been lost in his thoughts, but now he was alert, ready for what came next.

Jax’s eyes flew open, and he was struck by the unfamiliar yet intriguing scent of a new environment. It was fragrant, like earthy rain-soaked soil and rosewood mingling with the fresh smell of greenery. It felt oddly comforting, yet he knew change was upon him.

As he stepped off the truck, the lingering scent of straw reminded him of the long journey he had just completed—seven to eight hours that felt like an eternity. Leaving Kistan felt like a leap into the unknown, a chance to redefine his life away from his past and his clan. But would he ever see his father? The thought tightened his chest, yet also ignited a flicker of hope.

Jax felt the kind man’s gaze on me, filled with sympathy—an emotion he didn’t want but oddly appreciated. He yearned to regain his strength, to forge a new path and perhaps, one day, revive what he had lost. But for now, he settled for a simple “thank you” as he started walking, ready to face whatever awaited him.

“I think that we should help the boy, at least for the night! He doesn’t have a place to lay his head,” one of the men argued, the one he felt drawn to. Their conversation reached him, clearer than any whispers of fear he often heard about the Khai clan.

“No way! We can’t keep him! Where would he sleep? In our buttholes?” the other man shot back, his voice thick with frustration.

“He can just sleep in the truck until morning; it’s almost 10 pm, and you know how it is in Pax at night!” the nicer man insisted, and a spark of hope ignited within Jax.

“Fine, you win! But you’ll feed him; I won’t share my meat!” the cheeky one added, and his heart lifted further.

“Fair enough!” echoed the kinder man, and he felt a grin breaking across his face.

With a burst of excitement, Jax turned toward them, eyes alight with anticipation. “Aye, little man? Come over. It’s risky at night; you can leave by morning!” he called. Nearly a yard away, he hesitated, but Jax knew another lift from these men would lead him toward possibilities he could hardly imagine.

They were in a field next to a large barn, the moonlight guarding them. Jax scanned his surroundings, relieved to sense no immediate threat or danger. His strange ability to detect trouble was a comfort, and he took a deep breath, ready to embrace this unexpected turn of events.

The kind man draped a woolen blanket over Jax’s shoulders and gestured for him to sleep in the backseat of the truck. Though aging and rusty, the truck felt like a sanctuary compared to the straw he had lain on earlier.

As the man settled into the driver’s seat, sipping from a flask, Jax realized that this moment was just the beginning. He couldn’t help but wonder what awaited him in the City of Pax.

“I figure that you don't speak much, do you?!” the man asked, and Jax nodded. He was right. He barely mentioned a word except when prompted. “Do you have any relatives in Pax? Anyone?”

“No!” he answered, his heart racing. Fear gripped him like a gremlin, but deep down, he knew that he had to embrace the reality that he no longer had a family, not even a distant relative. Lotham was in his past.

“Poor thing! What happened to your parents? Do you have any? Are you an orphan?”

“Y-yes!” he forcefully said.

“Oh, I see! But your pendant…” the man paused, carefully studying it. It was a regal accessory, unmistakable and rare. Panic flooded within him. What if he uncovered its secret?

“It was given to me… by a… man I used to work with. I was sent away by his wife. She didn't like me at all!” Jax lied, knowing it was against his nature to do so. But he had to protect himself. He nodded, accepting Jax’s words.

“Well, I will take you to a woman I know by morning. She could use a hand! At least! That's the least I can do. I'm not a native of Pax or Kistan; I'm just a nomadic farmer. I settle wherever I can work and feed!” he said, and he could see the flicker of hope in his dimmed eyes, filled with pain and suffering.

As he turned to leave, Jax felt a mixture of gratitude and anticipation. He would have a chance, maybe even a new beginning, he thought.

“Thank you… sir! I won't forget this!” Jax called after him, and he responded with a weak smile.

Jax covered himself with the blanket, gazing out at the dark fields and the eerie figure of a scarecrow. If he hadn't known what it was, he might have flinched like the 9-year-old that he was. His father often remarked that Jax acted differently, too mature for his age, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant was waiting just beyond the horizon. What was it? Would Lotham find him and end his life too?