Glorymonger: A Story of Violence & Family
Synopsis
“Why am I watching TV in a world where firedrakes exist?”
That was what “Peerless Champion” Hokori thought when he read a prophecy from his mail, as you would. He wanted a paper plane, but the ancient parchment just wouldn’t fold in place.
Frankly, however, Hokori was sold the moment he read the first line, so no more being on the run. No more wasting one’s life in the boonies, and certainly no more making paper planes out of his invitations from the capital.
Strap in, ladies and gents. Welcome to the tale of a certified “hero” (and jackass) off to fulfill his destiny. ’Twill be a story of violence and family, of comedy and tragedy. There will be tears.
Prologue
A man in white stood atop a mountain, surveying the vast expanse before him by the edge of a cliff. His eyes fixed on a village nestled amidst sprawling fields of whimberry trees. Moments later, he could hear his companions gasp in astonishment, finally seeing what he saw.
The man and his “friends” had been hiking for hours, their legs caked with a few splotches of mud, to gaze upon a better view of the Overturn Valley. The contrast between the lush greenery and the rugged terrain of the mountain was stark—worthy of a thousand photographs of cherished memories. But unlike their raised voices out of the joy of living long enough to witness such natural wonders, the man smiled not once.
This awkward vibe of the man in white among them would’ve been easily scoffed at by now. Sadly, they couldn’t help but whisper behind his back about the way he approached their camp site in the middle of dawn. He stood outside their tents, never moving an inch, just for him to say, “May I join you?” in a tone that sounded more like a complete sentence.
Even more damning, the man suddenly decided to comment on the valley. There was one thing the mountain they stood on and the forests below them had in common. Both landscapes were gifted by the “beauty of spring,” as people would say.
The man never understood the significance beyond the fact that the leaves today weren’t brown like in autumn. Despite the vibrant blooms that enveloped the mountain, he regarded them as mere trivialities, lost in his own thoughts. He left them without any further comment.
On a higher foot of the mountain, the man looked at the village once more, with the same gaze he had since, well… as long as he could remember. People always told him he had the eyes of a “broken marionette.” Even now, he failed to understand what that meant, let alone why they always whispered behind his back.
Then again, every “friend” in his life was more like a passing shadow, as people would say. Metaphors were always an eternal struggle for his mind, and all his “friends” talked about now was a rumor of the infamous “Peerless Champion” residing in the small village.
The man sat down, feeling the cotton-like softness of rabbitgrass around his toes. Among the trees that filled nearly half the mountain behind him, the leaves rustled louder and louder. “The time has come, as they say,” he addressed without turning. “Wreak havoc upon the village. This time, Mr. Udemaeno will surely follow his new destiny.”
The forest canopy grew dark, and a looming shadow crept farther across the trees. Deer, antelope, wolf, and bear, they all scurried in every direction. The hulking figure ambled and snarled, red-stained saliva running down its teeth.
Those canines were “the size of daggers,” as people would say. But when the man felt a rush of wind as the monster leaped down the mountain with a deafening roar, he couldn’t compare the noise it made to any animal.
Is this what they mean by disappointment? the man squinted, still failing to wonder how the beast sounded. I’m not sure I like it, as they say.
The man in white returned to his companions, hearing them shout his name in a rush. For all their worries about him having been in close proximity to such a creature, his eyes remained the same.
To stare into the abyss was his home; to walk with it, his friend.
