The Man And The Beast

[Camera9]

A young man is gently taking care of some roses in one of the nobles’ gardens in the Palace district, behind the walls of the city of Balduran. A very humble task that he seems to enjoy very much since a happy smile never leaves him as if the entire world was full of tranquillity.

However, those who crave the roses should never forget the risk of grasping their thorns. As oblivious as he is in this peaceful moment, the young gardener scratches himself and the blood starts to spill quickly from his fingers, soaking the sleeve of his shirt...

It only takes a few drops and his smile disappears while his entire body is shaken in a quiver that litteraly possesses him in an istance.
No matter how hard he tries to fight it, the blood always awakes something dark in this man, hidden at the bottom of his soul. The long blade that he always carries with him can easily smell it and never looses a chance to remind him about the beast concealed in the shadow of his heart:

“I am very thirsty... and so are you! I can feel it...
It’s time for us to reap what the evil in this land have sown.
Forget your Great Mother... leave now and satisfy our lust, at once!"

The young man closes his eyes, trying to evade that sight, struggling against his instincts but the thirst is already burning in his throat! The pain spreads in his chest and every single vein is pumping like is about to explode. In his agonising suffering he only has the strength to answer with deep despair...

“Why... why can’t you just leave me alone?
Stop... telling me what to do!
I’m not... I’m not your puppet... and I’m not doing this again...
I won’t take... any more lives... just to make you feel... satisfied…
I don’t want to listen... I don’t want to hear you anymore!
Do you understand!?"

The young man is now yelling but the blade knows exactly what the truth is... the hunger will turn the man into a merciless beast.

Don’t be a fool!
You’re just human... you are nothing without me.
We both know that our bloodlust is too powerful to be overcome by such a weak will power of yours.
And why do you even care about those lives?
Would you rather let those bandits raid more innocent people on the way?
Would you rather let the mosters assault another caravan?
Just let the beast come out and we will soak the ground with their evil essence.
And I promise to you... you’ll feel relieved when the massacre is over.
All the pain will be gone and you will be able to sleep.
At least for another day...

Now go!
The time has come...

And then the man was no more... all that was left behind was just a hungry beast wielding an instrument of death.

"You shall not say another word!
I will let you take the flesh.
But I will be the one to drink their blood…"

[Camera9]

*Far away from the road, deep into the wood, a dark figure is laying down on the ground, heavily wounded, sinking in a red pool.
The man has already given up on his fate but a mad laughter suddenly echoes in his mind*

“Ahahahaha!!!!
Is it clear enough now? Destiny despises you, boy!
It just showed you a light of hope when you were falling into the darkness... in your weakest and most vulnerable moment...
That’s how it works: it tricks you with a gentle and beautiful appearance... it makes you confess your greatest desire and offers you a hand to hold on to.
And then it strikes you down with no mercy... until you sink in your despair...

Ehehehe!!!!
It will make you feel even more guilty!
This is the ugly truth... because if you dare to get closer again to that girl, you would become her poison. You would turn the rose into ashes and she would share your pain and your sorrow until she dies!
You won't get any relief from her... not anymore!”

*The young man crawls... his eyes are burning… he can’t see… he’s lost again…
But he holds something in his hand... he can feel the smell of the roses coming from her hair... he can still remember her pure light*

“You’re talking nonsense… cough, cough…
She will forget about everything… ugh… she will forget about me…
Now she is safe… that’s all that matters.
I’ll make sure… argh… make sure…we won’t cross our paths again…
You know I’m right… far from the eyes… cough, cough… far from the heart!”

*The laughters turn into shouts*

"I cant’t believe how stupid you are, little human! You gave away your must powerful pendant... and for what? For the sake of a half-fey that you can’t even touch?
This is all your fault after all... you deserve to drown into this mud and blood of yours!
Who is going to protect you now from your foes’ spells? You are about to undergo the greatest suffering from any evil enchantment they will cast on you!
And you can trust me when I say that those spells are all ment to drain away your life and burn your soul!
You are going to die slowly and painfully... so why don’t you just let yourself drown now and spare us this miserable sight?"

The figure picks up again from the puddle, covered in blood. It’s not a man anymore... just a famelic beast, ready to kill and slain again, again and again...

“Is that fear, I just smelled right now?
Then tell me… how will they point their spells to us without their arms? How will they pronounce them without their heads?
How would they even know they are alive if I ripped their beating hearts out of their chests?”

*And when the beast awakes, the carnage begins*

[Camera9]

(0:05-2:10) A lonely warrior walks over the hill, right through the thunderstorm. His shape slowly oscillates, baring the frozen scream of the air that lashes his cloak. The wind blows relentlessly and on the horizon, in the red sundown, the colour of his hair gets mixed up with the sky. The green irises reflect the path in front of him and he walks gravely on the only way he knows.
He keeps following it, in a desolate and barren land, red like blood. His one and only companion it’s the blade on his shoulder and he is driven forward by the insatiable desire to wield it.
There are times, during which he would like to stop, look back and think about who he has left but that hesitation wouldn’t help at all because for him, looking back it’s always much more painful than facing a hollow future.
Destiny is pushing him beyond, into the deep of a vale of tears and sorrow, where the cold agitates him with convulsive shivers and where the fear covers everything with insuppresible tremors. His thirst is so intense and scorching that wears out the body. The soul instead, in order to feel really alive, can only satisfy that longing. He is not allowed to know when it began or where it ends. He only knows that he has to keep walking, away from everything... away from everyone...
Then, abruptly, the smell of the battle comes! The cracks of broken branches are the only warning that the enemy concedes to him. Three orcs face him, standing in his way and surrounding him, in a deadly circle.

(2:11-2:30) They wield their falchions, they're coming closer and closer, craving for the prey they’ve waited so long. But they’re mistaken...
The warrior stays there, in the center, with a bitter smile painted on his face. No anguish or resignation, only the most bestial instinct of survival! So, his hands grab the hilt of the weapon and his arms lift up in mid-air.
The wind has calmed down but another tempest is coming...

(2:31-3:22) One of the blades strikes down the exposed homerus and the screams of pain fill up those frenzied istants. Full of misplaced confidence, the first orc throws itself off balance under the weight of his previous attack. Now is vulnerable and the warrior, who bore the terrible blow, clanches the jaws and holds onto this only chance like grim death. He rebels with everything he has, flexing the knees and pushing with the legs, whirling the steel against his enemy and sinking it into their chest, shredding all the living flesh along.
Now one of the three is lying on the ground but this is only the prelude of a very long fight; another threatening charge has already started, fierce and merciless: two orcs and two falchions against one man.
The blades clash in a deafening clatter, spreading blood and sparkles all around. They hurt, hate and lacerate each other. None of them worries about the mud that turns into a ruinous and deadly cliff. A downward blow chops another head off, leaving a crippled body to soak the ground.

(3:23-5:10) However, the assault is unbearable and the cliff looms over. The last two figures in the end fall...
Getting up is an effort that concernes only the man. Not too far, the broken skull of the orc lays there like a warning to a sailor: this time the compassionate waves of the ocean have saved him but the turbulent stream broke the keel of his ship and tore its sails. All is left to do is pulling out the blade from the bare ground and sway into the ephemeral tranquility, among the shadows of an unknown and unfriendly forest.
All the trees that he touches get dirtied with purplish stains, currupting peace and serenity with their metallic taste. His heart pulsates blood in the open wounds and the suffering torments every inch of his being. That’s the moment when he realises that nothing hurts more than the truth... not one person could love the beast in the same way the beast loves. Nobody would ever be capable to understand its fiery nature and decide to embrace it with an open heart. Nobody would choose fear over affection and kindness... who would ever take that risk unconditionally?
Eventually they will all turn their back and walk away from its fangs and claws.
On the other hand, blood bonds last forever. In fact, there will be no man without the beast and no beast without the man. During a fight, the line between the two gradually fades away and one drop of blood is enough to make them become one; a little sparkle is all it takes to ignite the fire and the harrowhead that suddenly pierces through the warrior’s armor, reveals to the hungry beast another prey!

(5:11-5:30) Little by little, the unrestrained instinct gets the better of his limbs and mind. Vacuous and lost, impatient and frenetic, he gazes up at the archer. His anger is brutal and umbiased like a natural law. His run is haphazard and agitated, like the hunt of a predator. It’s a whirlwind of passion and agony, mixed together without inhibition or uncertainty.

(5:31-6:22) All at once emotions are set free, like a swallen river breaking its banks. They flow on the blade, chainless and with no constraints, wiping out the foes and their corrupted malice. Every blow he sustaines, is returned with more intensity; throat and lungs are torn apart by the shouts and every single arrow that plunges under his skin, foments them; every gash in his chest is another step toward the end of all. Tendons and muscles are burning like hell and every lunge is a compromise between the death of a rival and the annihilation of his energy. Nothing is spared during that frenzy and every creature is pierced by the fangs of the wild beast.
Even the consciousness of the warrior is devoured and dissolved, like snow under the sun. Nothing is left for him to hold on to... there’s no emotion strong enough to keep him away from the oblivion of that beastliness.
His last howling at the black sky breaks the night and sanctions for that day a miserable win, only transient.

(6:23-7:23) The warrior falls on his knees after a few steps, shattered and exhausted. The corpses behind him gloomely reminds him what has just happened and so do the wounds all over his body. Every breath he takes brings back more pain, like he was continuosly getting stabbed by hundreds of sharp knives as a punishment for being still alive.
The whole world gets colder and darker around him. He can’t feel any warmth nor joy or hope. It’s a lonely place with no colours but dark red and the worst thing of all... is the silence in it.

He loved a beautiful song once...
…if only he could remember...
…if only he could hear that voice one last time...
...if only love could ever kiss his cursed nature...

[Camera9]

A young boy falls in a deep hole.
The hole is damp, cold and quiet.
Only a few light beams can reach its bottom.
It looks like some poacher’s trap, hidden in the woods, to capture prays.
In the beginning, all the boy can see around him is darkness and before his eyes can focus the shadow, lingering in front of him, he can clearly hear its grunts of pain and anger.
Fire glows in two bloody red eyes while the saliva drips from the long fangs of a big dire boar.

Terror suddenly invades the little boy and chokes the breath out of him: his entire body trembles in fear and his pulse races, faster and faster. He realizes that he’s going to die in there, torn to pieces by the boar. The only thing his little hand can grasp is a dagger in his pocket, the same dagger his father left him to cut the mushrooms for their dinner.

There’s nothing much that a little blade in a little hand can do against the fiercely charge of a wild animal.
However istinct is impulsive and blind, after all; it grants strength but it also reveals fatal weaknesses.
So, when the boar knocks down the little boy on the ground, all the weight of its body pushes against the dagger, stretched out in the air, which inexorably pierces its chest, straight to its hearth.

It takes a long time for the boar to die. It’s laying down there, bleeding and throbbing in agony, until something unexpected happens: a misterious dark energy awakes and urges the boy to steal the hungry fire from the boar’s eyes.
Somehow the boy feels that taking that hunger would make him incredibly stronger. He believes that it would keep him alive, a little bit longer, in a world full of dangers.

One, two, three… ten… twenty... thirty stab wounds open in the flesh, in less than a minute. Blood sprays everywhere: on the ground, on the rocks, all over the boy’s face. Only then, when everything comes to an end, the pain from the scratches kicks in and the boy crawls on his side to scream and cry until he falls asleep, exhausted.

This is only the beginning of his nightmare because after two days in the hole, with no food or water and no way to escape, the boy surrenders to the hunger and thirst. He lets the dark energy flowing into his soul and controls him to satisfy both of their needs.
Time makes them find a balance between these two natures, establishing a compromise between the man and the beast, signed with blood.

Until now...



“You’ve served me very well, boy.
All these years you’ve been feeding me with blood and flesh, making me stronger, relentless and pitiless.
On the other hand I kept my promise. I let you live.
I gave your body the power to kill everything that ever walked in front of you.
The truth is that I’ve never been so powerful and those stupid creatures on the ground are my witnesses.
Their limbs now belong to me and so does your body!

ARGHH!!!

I’m so sick of your repentance, I’m so sick of those useless feelings you hold on to! I’m sick of those who keep whispering in your ears that you could be like them, if you choosed.
Or worse... that they would love what you are.

But what do they know?
This is all a detriment to what we can become.
They weren’t there, in that dark hole, telling you what to do to stay alive.
They didn’t push you to drink blood to survive.
They couldn’t, because all of them are afraid of it and they will be afraid of you!

I did it!
I raised you from nothing.

AHAHAHAH!!!

I did it!
And finally I’m going to take control over your mind, too.
Just watch me, while I set free all of my power.
You’re my slave now and this time you won’t wake up...
I own your life essence, until the end of your days!"

[Camera9]

The young man stands in front of a waterfall.
His eyes are closed, his figure unnaturally composed.
He’s not aware of the surroundings, not aware of the monsters crawling alongside the river; not aware of the raindrops sound touching the rocks or aware of the shape of the moonlight shadow.
However, his indifference is not arrogance by any means but instead is a very clear awereness: it’s meaningless to fight on the surface of the world when the greatest threat of all lays at the very bottom of our soul!
For every living being, in fact, the neverending battle for survival takes place at different levels of existence. For some, breathing is harder and more painful than a clash between metallic blades and deadly spells. For others, the prize at the end is not even gold, or fame, or the supremacy over a kingdom.
For a berserker, winning means falling asleep without nightmares and dreaming about humanity...

“You didn’t expect to see me here again.
I can clearly see the surprise in your eyes.
Although we fought many battles together, it is just a natural consequence that you have learned how to get control over my body.
You know my urges, you know all my weaknesses and you were sure that I would have relied on your strength once again, asking for more... to satisfy the bloodthirst and stop this pain.
But now I’m here to talk and you will listen carefully to what I have to say!"

The beast roars, cursing at him with anger:

“So clueless... how the hell did you manage to wake up and break my chains, in the first place?
And how dare you to rebel against me!?
Stupid, little, useless boy! Do you think you can hurt me with that blade of yours? You simply have no idea what will you be pointing it at.
This is only a waste of my time!
Once I’ve done here, there will be nothing of you left to mourn.
I will crush your feeble willpower with my claws once for all, ripping its remains with my fangs"

With a steadfast gaze, the man answers calmly to the beast:

“I won’t let you anymore!
Not after the rose struck us both, like a lightning in a sunny day.
She sang for both words of wisdom, she healed both with her gentle voice and she fought bravely on our side, despite our corrupted nature.
She watched over us, most of the time in silence, even when her heart was crying loudly in compassion.
I could hear her voice, every single time and I could feel her presence in our darkest hours.
She’s always been there, believing that we could change. Her hope and her dream reached my heart like an arrow, lifting me up and inspiring me to grow into something pure, pushing me to find a way for a lighter future.
Even if she stayed the same all of this time, my feelings for her truly changed me. Before I even realised, I was a better man!

But you...
you just tried to use her, to achieve more power and satisfy your addiction.
You saw just a chance to get stronger and still, in your blindness, you underestimated her so much!
She gave you what you wanted and she bought me time at a very high price. She endured everything, without complaining, risking her own life to walk next to you like anyonelse ever did and ever will!
She feeded you with her blood, giving me a chance to be free again...
She never doubted, she never wavered and every single time I was lost, she walked into the darkness to find me and bringing me back to life!
Now it’s my turn to set her free...

The warrior raises his blade which starts to glow into the air like a sky blue blazing star. He then takes a deep, long breath, letting his emotions to flow from his soul to the blade. He focuses on the most powerful feeling in his heart and he clinges to it, smiling, proudly:

“I swear to the Gods, I didn’t waste a second of that precious time!
Finally I found out what you are made of and how to tame you.
The Sohei in the far east can use this pure energy to summon a beast in their soul which appears to disdain life and to fight beyond death for the ones they love.
If you were born from the dark half of my Ki now you are going to face its light counterpart!
Get ready... this blade now carries my hatred and my hope, it cryes for my pain and my despair and it smiles for my happiness and my love. Trust me when I say that it’s now got heavier than a mountain and still, lighter than a whisper!
I don’t know how long will it take but eventually we will blend together to become one single force at the service of a higher purpose!”