The moon shines in the sky, illuminating the vast clouds. Flat red moons flying through the clouds like platforms one could stand on. Suddenly, a lightning bolt streaked through the sky, splitting the clouds into two. The bolt struck the ground with force, cleaving the earth apart. From this, a river was born, splitting the world into 2 sides. On one side, A giant 3-eyed skull flew, one of its eyes shining with an orange light. Its maw was open, ready to devour whatever stood in its path. Teeth and bone shone against the moonlight as it flew through the air. Under it, tall stone statues of robed men stood facing the other side. On the right sat a golden man calmly staring across the river. On his head sat an intricate crown, and all he wore was a red cape. On his skin were simple marks and tattoos that seemed to depict something important. On his side, other golden figures stood facing the Invasion-
…
I awoke with a start. Sweating all over. A headache was pounding against my skull. I winced as I held my head in my hands. My dreams were becoming more realistic and intricate. Sometimes it was an eye looking down on me, other times it's an orange light flashing against my vision, but the worst is the war, bloody and lawless. I got out of my ama's embrace as I crawled out of bed and walked out of the room. Yes, walked. I'm turning 3 today. I let ama sleep as I quietly slipped out of the room. I called over a servant.
"Bring me water,"
"Yes, young prince," He rushed off to complete the order. I had become a prince. I had taken the new title in stride when I realized there were gaps in my comprehension. I learned new meanings every day, like water when I was 1. Imagine my shock at drinking such a refreshing drink. It's my favorite drink now after a nap. Or legs when I was 2. It was strange just realizing that I've been using something without understanding it completely, that my brain had tuned it out naturally for some odd reason. "Your water, prince." I took the water from the servant and downed it all in one gulp. I studied him curiously. He was a short man with a shaved head and a very skinny appearance. He was clean at least, but he looked so skinny I could see the way his skin clung to his bones, veins protruding out. If he wasn't wearing a clean set of robes, I would have mistaken him for a beggar.
"Hey, why are you so short?" I asked him. At 3, I reached his chest, and I noticed this from all the servants. They were all short and thin.
"I am human, your grace." He responds with a straight face, eyes vacant.
"And you have no markings, none of the servants do."
"I am human, your grace." He repeats, his voice sounding out as if stating a fact. He was starting to irritate me with these answers and that dead face.
"What is human?" I continue to prod, trying to get answers to my question.
"Human is a species, your grace," He responds in that same tone as if dismissing me, his eyes seemed vacant as if not fully there. I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down to my height. I smelled the fear rolling off of him as I glared at him. I stared him down as he gazed into my eyes. I continued to stare until his eyes started to look towards the ground, hiding from my gaze. I smirked, baring all my teeth.
"Explain. What is race? What is human? If you are human, what am I?" I ask all my questions now that I have his focus.
"R-race is what divides people wh-who share similar traits. I-It's similar to how an eagle is not the same as a bird because they don't share many common traits. We are not the same species. While I am human, you are a Jotún. A race of titans. Humans live to serve Jotún." He rambles on. And it finally clicks in my head. Race, Species, Human, and Titan. I understand it now.
'Jotún, huh. So that's how it is.' I pondered to myself.
"RAGOR," I hear ama call out, "Where are you, honey?"
"I'll be right there, ama!" I shout back in a happy voice. I turned back to the servant. I study his features, "Name?"
"Edward, your grace." He responds with his head still bowed. I remove my grip on his robe and smooth it out a bit.
"Good," I respond with a smile, "I'll be sure to remember you, Edward," I let out slowly as I turn and run back to my sweet ama.
I entered our room and saw her put on her gold earrings in front of her bedside mirror. She turned to me and smiled. I ran into her arms.
"Good morning, my sweet baby boy," She hugged me tightly, starting to comb my hair as she spoke, "Good morning, my son, it's been 3 name days since the day my light came to be in this world. You were always so fussy, always crying for ama. It was your favorite word. No one could get you to stop saying it. You love me the most, don't you, my sweet little prince?"
I pushed her away and quickly changed the subject. Once she started, she wouldn't stop. "Where's my present, ama?"
"Answer my question first, young man." She pouts.
"Yes, yes, I love you ama. Present?" I urge. She continues to look expectantly at me. I sigh in defeat. "And you know it's still my favorite word to say."
"Aww my sweet baby does love his ama. I'm his favorite, aren't I? Aren't I?" She hugs me again, "You're such a cutie."
"Present, ama," I whine, pulling away from her again.
"Okay, okay, here you go as promised," She hands me a rolled-up scroll tied together by a red ribbon, my favorite color. "It's a map of the world. You can pick out places to conquer. You can study it later. For now, go get your present from your apa."
There she goes again- wait, "apa?"
"Here you go," A tall Jotun stands behind me, tattoos flowing in untold glories along his body. His hair is a dirty white, spiked and flowing down his back. His hair is styled into a Mohawk. He is wearing dark brown robes and gold rings on his hands. He holds out a sword to me and looks at me curiously.
"Who is that?" I ask awkwardly. I hadn't seen this man in my life. I knew I had a father, but I've never seen this guy before.
"HAAHAHAH," Ama started to laugh. The man stood there awkwardly with an embarrassed expression on his face.
"I'm your father, boy." He tries to explain.
"No, you're not. I've never seen you before." I glare at him.
He starts to get irritated. And raises a finger at me, "Listen here, boy-"
"I don't even know who you are." I already don't like this guy. Is this supposed to be my apa? I refuse to acknowledge that notion.
He stands there, not knowing what to say. "Honey, it is true that you haven't been around him as much as you should be for a cub his age. He won't remember you."
"I have duties as a king. Things that require my attention-"
"Don't give me that, I know where you sleep at nights," She interrupts, looking at him with a knowing look. "The child you've been waiting decades for, and you hardly spend any time with him."
"I am his father, not his nanny. I understand that you would like to pamper the boy, but he is a Jotún. He is a warrior and a conqueror; he does not need to be coddled!"
"Maybe if YOU coddled him, he'd have some memory of you, " She mocked. "You hardly come back here, and when you do, you're here late, smelling of mead and sex. Don't blame me because you're a bad father!"
He paused and just stared at her. His eyes were stormy, a veiled rage hidden deep within. It didn't seem as if he was angry because of what mother said, but the fact that she had said it at all. "Here, boy," He threw the sword at me, and I caught it with surprising fluidity. He smiled at the sight. "It seems I will have to get you a heavier sword. We will have a slave move your things to a new room. And I will start training you at first light-"
"I have not agreed to this. You will not take my son!" My mother erupted.
"I AM KING!" He shouted as his eyes shone with a blue light. And a pressure descended into the room, shaking objects, the wood creaked with pressure as it seemed ready to collapse. A weight fell upon my shoulders, pressing down on my body. My body trembled as it struggled to stay upright. "NOT YOU, WOMAN! HE IS MY HEIR AND I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE WITH HIM! HE WILL LEARN OF HIS DUTIES AND WILL BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THEM." His voice shook the room and strained my ears. Now I know which asshole was shouting at my birth. He disappeared quickly after a glance at me, and with him left the pressure.
Slaves rushed into the room, fixing things up, placing them in the right places with the same dead faces as always. I looked down at my hands and realized I was still shaking. I was afraid, afraid of him, afraid of that show of power; afraid of the hunger I felt for it.
I felt hands wrap around me. "It's okay, my son. It's okay…" I let her hold me as I stood there struggling with emotions I could hardly name. And we stood there, mother and son. Unsure of what our future held.