Young Writers Society

Frostvale, 1120 of The Year of Light.

The road was filled with darkness; nothing was visible to Matthew. He looked around the perpetual darkness, but only darkness remained. He stared into the void intently, and two eyes appeared, staring back at him. Slowly, a smile emerged—a smile that gave off a weird warmth but at the same time a creepy feeling. Matthew felt the warmth reminiscent of hugging his father, yet he also felt the eeriness of the unknown. The being that now shared the same body with him. Matthew woke up abruptly.

Even after waking, he still saw darkness. The only indication that he was no longer dreaming was his surroundings. He now felt cold. Matthew tried to open his eyes, but they were tightly shut by golden chains that wrapped his whole body like a cocoon. His chains felt even more tightly tied. Not only did his whole body ache, but he also felt warm blood leaking from his wounds and wetting the wooden floor, intensifying the smell. The stench he unknowingly created now invaded his nose. Reflexively, Matthew tried to hold his nose to block the smell, but he couldn't as his hands were restrained.

Matthew lay on the floor, the chains on his back elevating him slightly, almost supporting him. He could feel his arms crossed on top of each other, piercing through his abdomen as they were tightly wrapped with golden chains. Warm blood poured from his eyes, mingling with tears. Matthew tried to breathe through both his mouth and nose, but he could only draw small puffs of air as the chains constricted his chest.

Matthew lay on the floor, fighting against death. Every passing minute caused his sanity to wane and brought death closer. In the midst of this intense struggle, Matthew felt a surge of warmth. Amid the darkness, he saw the figure again, smiling at him. The shadow transformed from a smiling face into a giant woman who wrapped her arms around Matthew.

Matthew felt solace in the darkness, as if he were sleeping under blankets on a cold night. The pain slowly began to fade. His arm didn’t ache as much, and he felt the hunger waning away. Finally, after who knows how long of suffering, Matthew finally rested.

---

**Thud**

With a thud, the door to the room opened, and the envoy, followed by the village guards, entered. The guards’ legs were shaking as they followed behind the envoy, who now held a letter bearing the symbol of a sun. It was a letter sent by the Light to the envoy.

“Guards,” the envoy shouted. The guards looked at each other, gulping nervously, but slowly they picked up Matthew’s body from the ground. One guard took his right arm, another his left, and two more supported his legs and head. They slowly brought Matthew outside. During all this, Matthew remained peacefully asleep as if nothing was happening.

Outside the house, a carriage was waiting. The guards flopped Matthew into the back of the carriage, where they further chained him up. They wrapped two more chains over his abdomen and one that secured his legs to the carriage. As they tightened the chains, the pain in Matthew intensified, and he awoke. He was still blinded by the chains, but the pain caused him to groan loudly.

The guards, upon hearing him groan, stopped and looked in Matthew’s direction. They gulped, sweat trickling down their faces, and their hearts beat faster and faster. Silence filled the atmosphere.

“I give you my word, he can't harm you,” the envoy said as he held up the letter sent by the Light.

The guards were still hesitant, but they continued to work the chains more carefully and accurately. They tried their best not to anger the demon further, scared of being harmed and ending up like the Elder. Soon they were finished. Matthew was writhing in pain, blood leaking from his eyes and nails. The chains tightened every spot on his body, making living itself hell.

The townspeople crowded around Matthew, observing the so-called demon from a moderate distance. The envoy, noticing their fear, approached Matthew and swung his hand deep into Matthew’s gut. Blood spurted violently from Matthew’s mouth. “As I have said before, have no fear. This beast is now less than that of livestock. He is now under control as he should have been. Come, you are all free to let off some stress.”

The crowd looked at each other, nervous smiles appearing on their faces as they contemplated the envoy’s idea. Then, among them, an old woman came forward. She looked like a person who could be blown away with a breath, tears running down her face as she climbed up the carriage and approached Matthew. Without saying anything, she spat on Matthew’s face. The white spit traveled between the cracks of the chains and landed on Matthew’s forehead, but Matthew couldn’t care less. He didn’t have the time to pay attention to that as he was suffering something greater. He was literally fighting death; the moment he lost the will to live would be the moment he left this world.

After seeing this act of bravery from the old woman, all the other townspeople, one by one, spat on Matthew. Abruptly, while the villagers were spitting on Matthew, a six-winged bird descended upon the envoy. Tied to the bird's leg was a piece of paper, tightly knotted. The envoy untied the paper and read the contents of the message to himself. As he finished reading, a smile broke across his face, a smile full of malicious intent.