Divine Blessing - B1 - Chapter 1: Lux Mortis

“Humanity has failed.”

This thought came to me all of a sudden. Nothing special happened to prompt this epiphany—no earth-shattering revelation, no momentous event, nothing at all. For all intents and purposes, it was a day like any other.

I gazed out the window, watching the city flash by. One gray, uninspired apartment complex after another blurred past. I was heading to the inner city, and judging by the increasing number of homeless people, I was nearly there.

I took out my mobile phone and opened the map. There were only three more stops. It had been a while since I came here last, and I couldn’t quite remember the name of the station. However, in this day and age, there was no need to remember anything anyway. Why waste the effort if the entirety of human knowledge was at your beck and call with a touch of a finger?

I closed the app, and my eyes fell on the background image. Three people were prominently displayed: a man, a woman, and a child.

The woman had a lovely, oval-shaped face. Her hazel eyes radiated warmth, perfectly matching her brown hair. She was undeniably beautiful, but what stood out most was the palpable happiness radiating from her very being.

She had been the kind of woman who would bring joy to everyone and anyone—once upon a time.

My gaze left the woman and inspected the man. He had dark hair, almost black, and steel-gray eyes, giving him a sharp appearance. I remember feeling like he could see right through me, as if I couldn't hide anything from him. However, in this picture, he was actually smiling, mellowing his features in a way I hadn’t seen often.

The man was handsome as well, but his aura differed greatly from his wife's. Where she seemed approachable, he looked strict. Doubtlessly, it was a result of the years he’d spent in the military. That didn’t mean that he was unkind, but his rigid posture and sharp eyes had become as much a part of him as his hands or feet.

I then looked at the child, a boy who appeared to be about seven or eight. I couldn’t quite remember when the picture was taken, but I recalled it was during one of our rare holiday trips. Was it during summer vacation in second grade?

It didn’t really matter.

The boy was looking at the camera, his mother's hand on his left shoulder and his father’s on his right. He had a big smile on his face. God, how long has it been since I was able to smile like that?

I could barely recognize myself. Granted, a decade had passed since that day, but that didn’t change the fact that I seemed to have nothing in common with that child anymore. It had been a long ten years.

“Next stop: Willow Street.”

The automated voice pulled me from my thoughts, snapping me out of my melancholic state. I looked up and saw that my surroundings were unchanged, though some buildings seemed vaguely familiar. Hadn’t there been a video game store around here? Were those even still a thing nowadays?

I stowed away my phone, not wanting to feel any worse than I already did. I hadn’t been happy about what I was going to do today, but seeing the picture of my family had only made it worse. I padded my dusty old jacket, feeling for the items I had stashed within. I felt something hard pressing against my chest. The cold touch of metal was noticeable through the thin shirt I was wearing beneath.

It was still there.

Suddenly, I noticed a woman staring at me with a frown of suspicion.

What do you want, you old bat? I thought, returning her stare. She quickly looked away and whispered to the old man beside her, who then turned to gape at me with the same intense look. Great, now there were two of them. But what caught me off guard was the fear in their eyes.

I noticed their gaze would travel to the spot where I had hidden the item beneath my jacket. Suddenly, their looks made a lot more sense. They likely assumed I was carrying a weapon.

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to old people to make far-fetched assumptions and always think the worst of people. For all they knew, I could be carrying a bouquet of roses. I wanted nothing more than to show them what I was actually carrying and prove how wrong their baseless stereotypes were.

However, I couldn’t do that. After all, I was actually carrying a weapon for once…

“Next stop: Elmwood Crossing.”

The announcement ended our staredown. With a sigh, I stood up and walked toward the door, holding my package close to my chest. I didn’t want to alarm the old couple more than necessary, and they would be relieved to know I was getting off at the next stop. Yet, my good intentions were in vain, as they continued to watch me with wary eyes.

“Next stop: Silent Meadows Cemetery.”

Finally, the announcement came, and I pressed the stop button. The door swung open with the hiss of the hydraulic mechanism, and I didn’t waste any time before stepping out.

Immediately, the cold winter air assaulted my face and hands. I shuddered involuntarily, my old jacket insufficient for this weather. At least there was no snow in the city; otherwise, I’d be forced to find out if my boots had any holes. I didn’t like my chances.

My gaze fell on the old cemetery in front of me, but I soon turned away. It was one of the few landmarks that I actually recognized, and my target was right next to it.

In less than a minute, I arrived at a run-down store. The sign above the entrance read: Graverobbers Pawn Shop. It was a play on words, given the store’s location. Needless to say, there weren’t many customers.

I stretched my hand toward the door but hesitated. Did I really want to do this? However, my hesitation vanished when I remembered the stack of unpaid bills waiting for me. I firmly gripped the knob and pushed the door open.

"Ding-a-ling!"

Warmth enveloped me as I entered. Yet, my heart remained cold.

“I’ll be right there,” a voice called from the depths of the store.

I walked up to the counter, casually scanning the trinkets on display. Old cameras, fake jewelry, and outdated tech were crammed into every available space. God, this place was a dump. Disinterested in browsing any further, I looked at the small CRT monitor behind the counter. On it, a news program was playing.

“…A new study shows that the happiest people spend at least an hour a day meditating. The effect is even stronger for young people!” the announcer read in the typical, overly cheerful tone of a TV broadcaster.

I immediately rolled my eyes. No shit. Who would have thought that the same people who can afford to waste an hour each day just sitting around would be the happiest? What’s next? Are they going to find out that rich, handsome men have better chances of finding a girlfriend? I really wonder who kept funding these studies.

I hadn’t been listening to the rest of the man’s rambling, but my attention was immediately caught when the man shifted from his happy expression to a far more serious face.

“…In other news, the mysterious disappearances have surged again this month. Known as ‘Lux Mortis,’ this phenomenon has reached record levels, with a staggering 1500 people vanishing worldwide this month alone. Experts remain baffled, but an increasing number of people believe it might be the work of extraterrestrial lifeforms. Notably, the South American pop idol Sophia Rivera disappeared while performing live on stage, and thousands of fans captured the scene. Take a look.”

The screen changed to show a concert venue. The footage was shaky, likely filmed by someone in the audience. The person filming was near the front row, just a few steps from the stage. A scantily clad Latina woman was dancing provocatively on stage. Music played in the background, but the poor quality of the smartphone mic made it sound like a garbled mess.

Suddenly, the woman was enveloped in a blinding light, and the audience cheered. They must have assumed that this was all part of the show. However, when the bright light dimmed after a mere moment, the woman was gone. The same scene was shone from several angles, including from the cameras in the backstage area.

I leaned onto the counter, getting closer to the screen. This was the first time a disappearance had been filmed from so many angles and in so much detail. Many people, including me, were still very doubtful about this phenomenon. After all, what was more likely, a government cover-up or literal aliens kidnapping people in broad daylight? However, this recording changed everything.

Sophia Rivera might not be a top celebrity, but she was famous enough that I had heard of her. She had topped the charts multiple times in her short career, making it highly unlikely that any government would risk kidnapping her—especially during a concert. It just didn’t make any sense.

“How can I help you?” a gruff voice asked.

I turned my head and found a middle-aged man looking at me. I recognized him from my previous visits. He was Midas, the owner of this store. The moment our gazes met, recognition flashed through his eyes, and he smiled.

“Oh, it's you, kid. How long has it been?”

“Eight months,” I replied.

“Really? That long? Time really flies, doesn’t it?”

“If you say so.”

My curt responses didn’t seem to dampen his mood, judging by the growing smile on his face. He approached the counter and stood right in front of me, giving me a once-over. “So?” he eventually asked. “What do you want?”

I grit my teeth, rethinking my choice one last time. However, it was a futile struggle; I had long since decided. I pulled out the thing I had been concealing all this time. Midas took a step back, eyeing me warily.

“I am here to… sell,” I said, forcing the words out through gritted teeth while placing the package on the counter.

The man burst out laughing, returning to his previous position. “Of course you are, boy. Of course. Let’s see what you brought me this time.”

Despite his jovial smile and friendly words, I didn’t miss how his hand had disappeared beneath the table. He had clearly been a step away from drawing a gun. Well, I couldn’t fault him for that. In his line of work, most of the people he dealt with were likely junkys or criminals, or both.

He unwrapped the bundle I had brought, being extremely careful with his movements. At this moment, he actually seemed like a proper store owner instead of the cutthroat crook I knew him to be.

Soon, the contents were revealed: a medal and a dagger.

Midas looked up, giving me a questioning look.

“They were my father’s,” I explained. “He was a soldier.”

He picked up the dagger, drawing it halfway. The blade was a masterful work of art. Its polished steel gleamed with an eerie, cold light, reflecting the intricate engravings along its length. The hilt was adorned with a rich, dark wood inlaid with onyx and gold, its grip perfectly balanced for both form and function.

The sight of the weapon nearly brought tears to my eyes. Long-forgotten memories began to surface—the proud expression of my father when he first revealed it and the warm smile on my mother's face.

“What kind of soldier uses a sword in this day and age?” Midas asked, clearly not convinced by my explanation.

“It’s ceremonial,” I said, “also, this is a dagger, not a sword. It was a present for his promotion.”

“What rank?” he asked, a little more interest in his eyes.

“Beats me.”

My father had always been secretive about his work. My mother and I never knew what he did, where he was, or even who he worked for. The only official confirmation of his military service came the day his death was announced.

Midas sheathed the blade, glancing at the large red gem embedded in the hilt. He hummed noncomittally before moving on to the other item. The medal was made of gold, with an insignia of a falcon surrounded by a storm. He inspected it for a moment before asking his next question: “What was the medal for?”

“Killed in the line of duty,” I replied, my voice coming out hoarse.

“Impossible,” Midas said immediately. “I know what that medal looks like. I might even have a couple of them lying around here somewhere. If you’re trying to lie to me, kid, you’ll need a better story.”

“It’s not a lie!” I yelled. I wasn’t one to lose control of my emotions so easily, but something about his words managed to get under my skin.

“Whatever you say…” he murmured, not even glancing up from the medal.

I took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then released it slowly. I couldn’t afford to lose my temper if I wanted to make the sale. There weren’t many people willing to trade with a minor—Midas was one of the few, and the alternatives were worse.

After a few minutes, he put the medal down and eyed the two objects for an instant before speaking up, “I’ll give you 200 for both of them.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “Are you kidding me? That medal is made of gold. Smelting it would easily give me a couple thousand.”

“Good luck with that,” he said in a nonchalant tone.

Bastard! I cursed inwardly. Although what I said was technically true, we both knew I couldn’t follow through. Even if I could, I had no idea where to sell the gold. I’d likely face the same problem anyway—nobody wanted to do business with a minor.

Midas grinned, certain in the knowledge that I had nowhere else to go. I clenched my fists in impotent rage, wishing for the courage to punch him in his smug face. However, we both knew I wouldn’t do it.

If only I could have made it work for just a few more months—until I was legally an adult. I could have found a job, even at minimum wage. Now, I had to sell the last memento of one parent just to afford the burial of the other.

This fucking life.

The grinding of my teeth was so loud that even Midas grew concerned. “You okay, kiddo?”

“500,” I forced out.

He was taken aback by my words but soon returned to his regular expression. “No can do,” he said. “The most I can give you is 250.”

“500,” I repeated. This was my bottom line. Anything less than that, and it wouldn’t even cover my mother’s burial. At that point, I might as well not sell it at all.

“That’s not how this works, kid,” Midas said, shaking his head. “You either meet me halfway, or you scram.”

I looked at him for a long moment before grabbing the medal and dagger from the counter and wordlessly heading for the exit. I was almost at the door when his voice finally reached me.

“You drive a hard bargain, kid. Fine, I’ll give you 500.”

I turned, fury blazing in my eyes. Did this man think this was a game? However, before I could even open my mouth, a bright light enveloped me.