The Seal - By SealMBe

Clouds, a blue sky, cold fresh air, and warm sunlight. A man could ask for no more to enjoy a peaceful morning. Wrong. That serenity requires one crucial element: having your feet on the ground.

For a powerless soul, this idyllic scene transforms into its opposite: a harbinger of death. A heart pounding to the brink of explosion, eyes bulging in terror, a throat raw from screaming, and a body flailing helplessly—engaged in a desperate dance of survival. What a foolish body it is. How absurdly naive we are to cling to hope when logic coldly whispers, "Just let go, sweetheart."

Paralyzed by fear, Glida could think of nothing. No regrets, no sorrow—just a blank mind shutting down to withstand the overwhelming flood of hormones. Only one thought lingered in the void of his "thinking office": "This is it. I will die."

The eternity of those few minutes stretched on as he fell faster and faster, piercing through the clouds like a whistling arrow. In that moment of sheer terror, something peculiar caught his attention. For a fleeting second, the all-consuming fear faded into the background as wonder and shock took its place. He saw a vast expanse of blue, shimmering water stretching endlessly to the horizon.

Glida, a child of the forest, had never encountered such a sight. The largest bodies of water he had ever seen were small, rain-fed ponds. This was incomprehensible, a sight too grand for his young mind to grasp. Awe gave way to a deeper kind of fear—a fear born of the unknown. But this fleeting marvel was abruptly interrupted as a sudden jolt sent his body hurtling sideways, sharp pain shooting through him like an electric current.

A giant claw had snatched him mid-air, squeezing him mercilessly like a bird caught in a child's fist. Turning his head with great effort, he saw it—a colossal white bird, its wings spread wide, blotting out the sky. The air howled under the power of its flight, a deafening testament to its strength. It was nature's majesty in raw, terrifying form. Glida was no longer a child falling from the sky; he was now prey, trapped in the talons of the Sky Ruler.

The journey continued, the unending waters below and the mighty bird above. They approached a vast land ringed by a chain of mountains that soared arrogantly through the clouds. The peaks encircled the lake like a crown, as if nature itself had forged it in tribute to its ruler. As they neared the mountains, the bird began flying erratically—sharp ascents and sudden dives. It appeared to be dodging unseen walls, reminding Glida of his journey with the deers.

'So, the same laws of nature apply here too;' his barely functioning brain muttered.

Breaking through the cloud line and soaring over the mountains, the Sky Ruler dove toward a peculiar landscape dotted with enormous holes. The largest could have easily swallowed an adult elephant. With brutal indifference, the bird released its captive, flinging Glida into one of the medium-sized pits before soaring back into the sky in search of its next meal.

Glida hit the ground hard. His backpack absorbed most of the impact, but not enough to spare him completely. He heard the sickening crack of bones as pain radiated through his body. Blood poured from his mouth as he let out an agonized scream, his voice piercing the still morning air.

"AAAAaaaAAAAhhhhhhhhh!"

Crimson droplets stained the wet soil of the pit. His backpack, though damaged, had saved his life. The Sky Ruler, oblivious to the boy's suffering, had no reason to linger. It had other prey to hunt.

Alone in the pit, Glida tried to assess the damage. His thoughts were a chaotic swirl of pain and disbelief. "So, this is how it starts..." he muttered, spitting another mouthful of blood onto the ground. His eyes drifted upward, scanning the blue sky above. The pit resembled a cavernous nest, its floor strewn with the remains of previous victims—some large, some small, all forgotten.

---

In the cave-like hole, so vast that the boy seemed like an ant within it, Glida clung desperately to the jagged surface, mustering the last of his strength. He needed to escape before the 'Sky Ruler' returned—if it hadn't already. His right hand pressed against the broken ribs on his left side, while the other dripped blood, leaving a crimson trail as he climbed.

How could he possibly ascend this deep crevasse?

His climb became a grueling cycle of slipping and scrambling, each attempt a race against time. What if the Sky Ruler came back, or worse, brought its mate or offspring to feast? These thoughts clawed at his mind, but Glida clung to one iron rule of survival instilled by life in the forbidden forest: always prepare for the worst. Never let your guard down. One mistake, and you pay dearly.

After what felt like hours but was barely one, his bleeding hand finally grasped the wet grass at the edge of the crevasse. With a final, agonizing push, he hauled himself onto solid ground, every ounce of energy and willpower drained. The sight around him was stunning, but he had neither the luxury nor the breath to admire it. Shimmering green grass, vibrant spring flowers swaying in the breeze, and towering mountains ringing the 'Green Land,' their peaks piercing the clouds like sentinels on the horizon, all blurred in his peripheral vision.

Panting, his broken body screamed for rest, but Glida couldn't afford it. He stumbled forward, away from the yawning pit that had nearly claimed him. The ground was littered with similar holes, some small, others vast, like scars marring the landscape. Here and there, human skulls and decayed corpses lay in silent testimony to the fate of those who had come before.

"So, I'm not the only miserable human to end up here, huh," he murmured, grimacing. Then, a spark of realization lit his eyes. "Wait… I'm not the only human!" A burst of joy escaped his lips. "Finally! I'll meet people from the Kingdom Lands!" His exhausted face lit up with a large, childlike smile. For a fleeting moment, he forgot his broken body, the monstrous predators, and the rotting corpses he'd seen. Life, for him, was this: live, survive, and rot. It was a grim philosophy for a 12-year-old, one even adults would struggle to endure.

The gravely injured boy pressed on toward a forest he had spotted to the north. I'll be safer there, he thought. At least from the predators in the sky.

Crossing the grassy plain and unnatural graveyard, he left a crimson trail behind as his body grew colder and paler. The spirited boy was gone, replaced by sheer determination.

"This is only the start, and look at me," he murmured, shaking his head. Yet, his voice carried a defiant undertone, as though daring life itself to try harder.

After hours of trudging forward, nibbling on his grandmother's handmade biscuits, and dodging potential Sky Ruler attacks, he finally reached the forest's edge. Let's go deeper before resting, thought the boy with an unyielding will.

The forest was unfamiliar, its trees smaller and less dense than the ones in the forbidden forest where he had once run freely. Instinct guided him to a cluster of tall trees surrounded by smaller ones, with ponds scattered around—a perfect spot for rest and vigilance.

Climbing the tallest tree, Glida perched himself on a high branch, savoring the sweet honey biscuits as he caught his breath. He tended to his injuries and slipped into a light, wary rest. Then, a sound drifted through the air—a sound unlike anything he'd ever heard. It was angelic, a melody so pure it numbed his thoughts and calmed his racing heart.

With all his remaining strength, he climbed higher, searching for the source of the ethereal music. It seemed to come from the northwest, near a large lake hidden by the trees. Compelled, Glida descended and moved toward the sound, every note dulling his pain and fatigue. He ran until he saw it.

An angel danced on water.

A girl in flowing blue silk robes and silver-white hair glided across the lake's surface, her snow-pale skin radiant under the sunlight. Each delicate step created ripples on the clear water, each ripple a new tone in a symphony that transcended human comprehension. She moved freely, her hands outstretched, her movements in perfect harmony with the music filling the air.

Glida stood frozen, his body refusing to obey him. He was a slave to the moment, his mind blank with awe. The dance and melody ensnared him completely, erasing all memory of his injuries and the danger surrounding him.

He was lost in this trance when, without warning, his vision shifted to the sky, and his back slammed against the ground with a painful thud. A cold metal blade pressed against his neck, and a chilling voice hissed, "Who are you? Speak, or I'll kill you."