novelnext The Heart of Scraps
The Heart of Scraps
(Crack... creak~!)The forest, once a labyrinth of shadows and life, had transformed into a graveyard of charcoal.
(Ssssss... fffft!)
The air was saturated with a thick, grayish mist that danced between the smoking remains of the trees, choking every trace of purity.
(¡¡¡CRACKLE-SNAP... FSSSSSSS!!!)
The sound of persistent fire devouring dry wood was a constant murmur, interrupted only by the occasional collapse of a charred trunk crumbling upon touching the ground.
(¡¡¡THUD-CRASH-SSHHH!!!)
And at the center of that desolate landscape, the dragon's mass lay like a fallen mountain.
"¡¡GRRRRR...!!"
The emerald light of Shija's impact had left a scar of energy that still pulsed faintly in the air.
(¡¡¡GROOOOAN-KLING-CLANK!!!)
The earth around it was molten, turned into a black crystal reflecting the dying embers.
"¡¡GRRRROOAAAWWW!!"
However, despite that, the beast let out a metallic roar that vibrated from its chest, burning with fury.
{DAMN IT!!}
Then, one of its reptilian claws snapped shut, dragging through the ashes with the sound of metal scraping stone.
(¡¡¡WHEEZE-COUGH... SKREEEE!!!)
The plates of its armor, damaged and misaligned by the blow, screeched as it tried to reconfigure itself.
{I lost...}
In that way, the beast began to regain consciousness while a dark, viscous liquid dripped from the wound in its neck, hissing as it touched the hot ground.
{I... I am... Weak...}
The dragon tried to lift its heavy head, but its membranous wings were shattered, hanging from its back like the tatters of a burnt flag.
(¡¡¡GRRR-HISS-SNAP!!!)
Every movement was an agony in which its organic material failed while trying to stabilize itself.
{Sniff... I couldn't even... protect... my home...}
Finally, the monster's eyes opened slowly, revealing vertical pupils desperately searching for its aggressor amidst the haze.
"Grrr-ah... Ugh"
Its growls, once full of arrogance, were now a mixture of physical pain and an indignation that refused to die.
(CLACK... Clack)
It was trying to stand up, its muscles trembling under the weight of a form it could no longer sustain, while the forest continued to burn in a lament of ashes.
"Grraaaawww~"
In that place, the dragon's roar died out, replaced by a plaintive hiss of steam and agony.
{Everyone was right...}
The "beast," unable to hold the weight of its own battered body, let its head drop sideways onto the scorching ground.
{What was I... trying... to prove...}
It no longer tried to fight. It surrendered to gravity and pain, while its large yellowish eyes began to water, heavy tears falling and evaporating before touching the embers.
(¡¡¡FSSSSSSSS... CRACKLE!!!)
Around her, the world she had built was a private hell.
{Why... why am I so weak?}
The forest burned with relentless spite; the trunks of ancient trees split with sharp crashes, releasing clouds of sparks that rose toward a sky darkened by soot while she watched the ruins of her home, the sanctuary she had worked so hard to manifest in this plane, reduced to ashes and smoke by an accident of fate.
{I... Sniff... I-I...}
In the silence of her mind, memories flowed with a depressive bitterness.
From the beginning, she had been one of the first consciousnesses to wake from the primordial "soup," a flash of life before the soul that formed everything could even stabilize. However, unlike others who were born with the capacity to tear through space, generate infinite energies, or move at speeds that defied light, she was simply born fragile.
{W-why did I think... Sniff... that something... would change...}
She possessed neither the physical strength to impose herself nor the spiritual power to stand out.
She had always been "the weak one."
{Ugh... Mghm...}
She desperately tried to prove her worth to others, throwing herself into challenges that surpassed her, not because the others looked down on her—for they treated her with a kind indifference or a pity that hurt more than hate—but because she could not bear her own lack.
{I am strong... Yes, I am... Strong...}
But every attempt to prove her value ended in a resounding failure, in a humiliation that gnawed at her pride.
(¡¡¡WHIMPER... HISS!!!)
And finally, unable to bear the weight of her own shadow, she fled from the great centers of power, hiding in that forgotten and unstable corner that had not yet stabilized to build a peace that, now, she saw burning before her eyes.
{I didn't want... any of this...}
Thus, unable to resist any longer, the child's voice sobbed from inside the dragon, while the fire continued to consume the only thing that made her feel like she belonged somewhere.
{Who am I...?}
Next, the immense mass of scales and muscles began to collapse upon itself.
{What am I?}
The dragon's structure, held together only by resentment, crumbled as the heat of the fire continued to devour the horizon.
(¡¡¡SPLAT-SHRINK-FSSSS!!!)
The crimson chitin plates retracted, sinking into flesh that turned pale and soft. The membranous wings withered like dry leaves before vanishing in a sigh of steam.
{¡Sniff... Ugh... Mghm!}
Along with her sobs, the reality of her origin unfolded in every inch that shrank.
She was a living paradox: one of the oldest consciousnesses and, yet, the smallest of them all.
While the other entities emerged from what she defined as the primordial "soup" with a clear identity, a defined purpose, and powers that shaped reality, she had emerged into the void as a blank slate.
The others knew who they were; but she only knew she was cold. She had no formed mind, nor a will to dictate her destiny; she was comparable to a baby opening its eyes in the middle of a storm without understanding anything. She had no claws, no fire, nor the speed of thought. She was born with nothing, feeling like a mistake of creation that could only watch how her "sisters" shone with their own light while she barely learned to crawl on the periphery of existence.
(¡¡¡WHIMPER... CRACKLE-SNAP!!!)
Driven by those feelings, the regression transformation accelerated. The great predator vanished, leaving in its place a small and fragile figure, curled up among the ashes.
{¡¡¡HIC... WHIMPER... HIC!!!}
In the middle of the circle of ashes, there was no flesh, no scales, no blood. There lay a small figure composed entirely of threads and scraps.
Her original form was that of a ragdoll, a body born from the union of fabrics of all imaginable types and colors: fragments of crimson silk, bluish linens, patches of green velvet, and shreds of yellow cotton, all sewn together with an erratic and desperate technique.
{¡¡MOMMY~!!}
However, despite the explosion of colors in her materials, the doll lacked the most essential thing: her face was a smooth, pale, and empty fabric surface. There were no eyes to see the destruction, no mouth to express her agony.
{¡¡WWAAAAAAAAAAA!!}
But despite that, from her interior emanated a muffled cry of absolute helplessness. They were spasms that shook her soft body, a sound vibrating from the center of her tightly stitched chest.
{¡¡IT'S NOT FAIR!!}
Her hands were long, with rounded and flexible fingers that moved with an unsettling agility as she tried to hide her non-existent face. Her fabric limbs bent in impossible ways as she curled up on her dress, a cascade of overlapping layers trying to protect her from the charred ground.
"Hey..."
But unexpectedly, in that moment, a voice called out with a soft tone, heavy with a fatigue that weighed on the soul.
{¡¿?!}
To which the ragdoll startled, turning her smooth face toward the source.
"....."
{.....}
Finding herself face to face with Shija's gaze, the small scrap figure seemed to vibrate with pure horror.
{¡¡Y-you....you, you, you, you,you,you,you!!}
And ashamed to have been seen in her purest and most helpless form, the small doll reacted out of pure survival instinct.
(¡¡¡FWOOSH-MORPH!!!)
Transforming in a blink, the colorful fabric expanded and hardened. The scraps turned into sharp feathers and the cartoonish hands into steel claws.
{¡¡YOU SAW NOTHING!!}
In front of Shija, there was no longer the doll, but a giant standing hawk, a majestic and terrifying creature observing him from above, desperately trying to regain the dignity she thought she had lost.
"...."
However, Shija did not retreat or put himself on guard. Visibly exhausted, with burning lungs and trembling legs, he dropped to his knees before the immense bird...
"Forgive me..."
To then lower his head, sinking his hands into the hot ashes, and spoke with a passion that made the air vibrate.
"I didn't know this was your home. I didn't want to destroy the only thing you had built. I fell from nowhere and only caused pain... Please, forgive me."
Kneeling among the ruins of the forest he himself had helped burn, Shija did not ask for a truce, limiting himself only to apologizing.
(Ffffuuuuhhhh~)
The silence that followed Shija's words was thick, carried only by the whisper of the wind through the charred trunks.
{.......}
The giant hawk, with its steel feathers and a gaze that pretended to be fierce, froze while its claws, which a moment ago were ready to tear the earth, loosened.
(¡¡¡BLANK-STARE...!!!)
Slowly, the imposing bird tilted its head to one side, completely disarming its aura of dignity and power by opening both eyes disproportionately, losing all its aggressiveness in an instant.
{... Huh?}
Letting out a short sound, filled with a confusion so pure and comical that it shattered the atmosphere of tragedy.