The God of Nothing.-Chapter 17: The Smile Before Silence

Left foot in front of right, right foot in front of left. Caelith tentatively glanced at his mother, walking next to him right now.

The pain hidden behind her clear blue eyes was even more intense.

Caelith knew she was somehow blaming herself for this situation. The guards had removed their restraints, perhaps arrogance, perhaps confidence.

The warm, humid air of the forest lingered by his lips. Flies and mosquitos buzzed in the air, waiting to taste their next meal.

It would be Caelith and Elysia, not the guards surrounding things. The guards escorting them to the town wore the highest quality armor Caelith had ever seen.

Beautiful silver plate armor encompassed them entirely. With each step, one could hear the weight of their heavy set builds.

Caelith didn't know for certain but could reasonably deduce that each guard was above one star.

On the shoulder plate of their armor was a beautiful design of a stark silver stag, its majestic antlers pointed proudly to the heavens, pierced through the heart by a crimson spear.

This slightly confused Caelith, as he had never seen this design and assumed it was meant for the private guard of the Stormont estate.

There were many aspects of his family that he was never privy to because of his bastard status.

Superimposing on the discomfort Caelith felt from the forest, the bugs, and being in an unknown area of the forest - far further than he had ever traveled during a hunt - was the rage he felt toward the Stormonts for holding their honor above his accomplishment; toward Alaric for reneging on his deal to allow him to attempt the entrance exam.

However, Caelith would not allow his effort and the effort Kaden had put into him to go to waste.

He was silently scheming how he was going to cause a major upset by entering the academy this year despite his setbacks.

At some point, Caelith noticed that their party had veered off the main road. It made sense; the Stormonts did not want word spreading of their young master's defeat and their decision to exile the victor.

Caelith knew all this would do was slow the spread of rumors and not stop it entirely, as the entire estate should have heard about his duel by now.

Caelith and his mother continued walking through the forest.

Even he felt fatigued from the journey, which meant that Elysia must have been suffering.

He glanced at his mother again, guilt filling him as he saw her trying to hide her struggle, staying strong for his sake.

Caelith was only sixteen; ordinarily, he could never have been expected to handle the feeling of causing his family to be exiled.

Just then, all his senses stood on end.

The clanking of metal boots, the weight of the humid air, the bugs taking bites of his skin, the crushing of leaves under his feet, the aridness of his mouth, the sweat beads falling on his forehead.

He scanned his surroundings, counting six of the ten guards behind him and four in front.

Caelith slowly placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, still uncertain about why his body was screaming at him.

Fortunately, nothing happened, and the group moved forward. Minutes dragged on, and Caelith eventually relaxed.

The leading guard then came to an abrupt pause. For the first time, he spoke.

"Caelith, was it? I have to say I was quite pleased to hear the result of your duel with young master Vaerin. The little shit had been insufferable for years, wouldn't you agree?"

His tone was even and smooth, not a drop of fatigue in it.

Caelith was somewhat stunned.

An elite guard from his family had just praised him, one from a unit so secretive he had never seen it before. First, he felt joy, then pride, followed by confusion.

'Did... he just call Vaerin a little shit?'

It wasn't unusual for others to feel disgruntled with the overbearing young master; however, the guard's language seemed slightly vulgar and inappropriate for his position.

Before Caelith was able to respond, another remark came.

"Not that your reply matters, but on a different note, I must say it is quite a shame."

This time, Caelith was able to respond, still confused.

"What is?"

An eerie silence was left in the wake of his voice.

Nobody replied, and the seconds dragged on.

The head guard broke the silence by removing his helmet and showing his face.

He was old and balding; his mustache was still black and quite full.

However, no definition in this world would ever describe the man as attractive.

The man then smiled, not the casual smile you give to a friend but a wide, teeth smile like a little boy would give on Christmas.

He showed a horrific mouth full of missing and rotting teeth; all the teeth still left were brown and crooked. Caelith nearly puked at the sight and took a step back, but a tall wall of metal blocked him from behind.

Two guards then took him by the arms and forced Caelith onto his knees and his face onto the dirt.

Caelith had wanted to resist. However, their hands were too fast and too sturdy. He struggled on the ground, but it was hopeless. The arms behind him felt slightly warm.

Kaden had explained to him the augmentation methods of each mana type. The guards behind him were lighting their mana veins ablaze to exert excess strength to push him down. Resistance was futile.

Elysia exclaimed in shock.

"What the hell do you think you're doing to my boy!"

She shouted as she went to strike the guards. However, on her first step, a sturdy arm caught her's.

From her peripheral vision, she saw the head guard holding her wrist, still showing the same horrific smile.

The head guard finally responds to Caelith's question.

"That we won't be able to enjoy this beauty for long; after all, the missus had requested us to return quickly."

Deep and primal horror shocked Caelith as he realized this wasn't simply exiled.

If the Stormonts valued their reputation so much that they would exile him... would they let him live to tell the tale?

The horrific head guard yanked Elysia's wrist, causing her to turn, showing the apparent horror on her face.

"Now, shall we?" The guard spoke as he dragged Caelith's mother towards a two-foot-high stone slab a few feet away.

The slab seemed to have old, dried blood on it, as well as sword marks.

Elysia screamed and struggled in response, which proved to be fruitless except for annoying the head guard.

"Damned woman!"

He exclaimed, grabbing the back of her throat and slamming her face first into the slab with excessive force.

She was oriented to face Caelith and the rest of the guards.

Her once-beautiful face is now a mess of blood and teeth.

She tried to open her mouth to say something; however, all that came out was mouthfuls of blood and broken teeth.

This horrific site was the result of reality, the difference between the blessed and the ordinary.

"Screamers aren't any fun! Don't you know you'll draw the terrors that roam these woods?"

The head guard exclaimed, unable to hide the hideous glee from his words.

Caelith went to shout, but noticing the tension in his body, one of the guards holding him down pressed his mouth into the dirt, gagging it with mud.

The head guard reached down and copped a feel of Elysia's bottom, staring Caelith in his eyes while still showing his horrific smile.

Elysia's screams were drowned by gurgling blood as it incessantly spilled from her mouth, running down her white dress as her disheveled raven hair blocked her eyes.

It seemed that the forceful slam the guard had done had caused her internal bleeding; soon, she would suffocate from drowning in her own blood.

As the head guard saw this, his smile disappeared, replaced by raging anger.

"FOOL, FOOL, FOOL, AGHH!"

The guard exclaimed in anger as he aggressively hit his own head until he bled.

"Patooie, I always play too rough with the good ones."

He said dejectedly, spitting on Elysia.

He then looked down and motioned for one of the guards. The guard walked forward and handed him a rope.

Caelith continued, attempting to scream and struggle as the two guards below him held him down.

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Nothing but pure undying rage, a yearning for unholy violence, spread waves throughout his being.

He wanted nothing more than to slaughter the head guard, to rip his spine out and force him to eat it, to gut him and force him to watch himself bleed out.

Caelith was nearly driven mad by these thoughts.

Receiving the rope, the head guard's rage subsided, and he tossed the loop around Elysia's head, which was resting on the slab as she kneeled, trying not to suffocate or bleed out.

The smile gradually found its way back to the head guard's face as he spoke again.

"Ahh, this part's not personal; the missus requested this specifically."

After securing the loop around her neck, he threw the other end of the rope around a tree branch above him.

Realization dawned upon Caelith, and using a burst of strength, he raised his chin from the dirt and screamed.

"NOO!!!"

However, it was too late as he looked into his mother's eyes.

She stared back blankly but, after a moment, attempted to smile with her eyes to comfort him like she had many times before.

Then, with a swift motion, his mother's body was hoisted up.

The life drained from Caelith's eyes as he watched blood pouring down his mother's body as she was lifted upright.

However, the head guard seemed excited by this and tugged harder.

The world was silent as Elysia's head was gruesomely removed from her body, slowly spinning in the air.

Time slowed for Caelith as he watched his mother's face.

Once beautiful with azure eyes, beautiful eyebrows that almost looked drawn on, petite pink lips, high cheekbones, and raven black hair tumbled in the air.

Tears flowed like rivers down Caelith's cheeks.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

He was supposed to enter the academy, become a top student, and provide a comfortable life for his mother.

She was his motivation; she was his strength. He was a genius. Everything was going so right before today!

The rapid change of horror to rage to horror to sadness had drained Caelith of all feeling he had left in his soul.

His cold, dark, dead eyes watched as the head guard approached him.

"Awww, sorry about that! I got a little excited. Don't worry, though, I'm not into boys."

He said coldly, the disgusting smile bearing down on Caelith.

With that, the head guard forwent the subtleties and slowly retrieved Caelith's sword from his sheath.

The metal grinded as it slowly left the alloy sheath on his hip.

The guard gave the blade a once over, and then Caelith's eyes widened.

He knew this was coming, but the indescribable fear of your life ending could never be understated. He struggled; he tried to scream, he tried to cry.

The tears had long since been emptied, and now the searing pain of a blade rendering his flesh was all that he knew.

The sword passed at an angle, going from the bottom of his rib cage and out below his belly button. It traveled slowly but without obstruction.

After that, Caelith did not quite know what happened.

His vision darkened, and he heard the clanking of metal plate armor walking away.

He knew he was not long for this world.

His pride had left him when he begged, His hope had left him when he was pinned down, His family had left him when they cast him away to exile, His mother had left him alone in this world, and now, finally, his strength had left him too.

He was rejected by the gods, the world, his family, and even fate.

It was a brutal rejection, too, leaving him to bleed out, being gutted in the woods next to the corpse of his mother.

He felt empty, alone, and spiteful.

He was a genius, a dutiful son, and had the blood of a noble.

He had done everything he could have, and yet he was met with death.

In his last moments, Caelith's thoughts ran wild.

'An end fitting for a bastard, huh?'

He thought to himself. Silence permeated the forest, or perhaps he had lost his hearing.

As his vision faded to black, nothing but brutal rejection consumed Caelith's mind.

He was reaching for it; he was yearning to reject the world... and then it happened.