A decision had to be made and he had to be quick about it.
"I can't back down," he mumbled.
He decided to climb ahead. Lifting up his foot, he placed it on the seventh position. His face came up, facing the centre of the glow. Fire and bright lights radiated around him with full force. To save his eyes, he pushed forward his palm to block it.
"Hoh-Hor," he screamed.
He could not see anything around him anymore. He felt sharp pain within his head. He had been blinded. His pupils could not contain the full current. While his hand was still on his face and his eyes covered, he had temporary relief from the pain within the nerves. He was devastated and didn't really know which direction to turn.
Being disorganized, his foot slipped amidst restlessness. He tried to hold on to the bar available by using his hand to comb around, but he could find none. Then, the fear of having a terrible fall set in. The last step had already been taken some seconds ago, and there was nothing to hang on. That thought of death returned, but he had changed his mind. Not that he wouldn't want to die anymore, but that it should happen with nobility. After all, he had made a noble move. If he had to die from a fall, free fall shouldn't be a consideration. There should be a costlier fall.
He considered another option. He was going to let out a punch, a merciless one. Punching would open up the crack he had been trying to reach faster. Whatever happened, he was ready to bear the consequence, and it would be the noblest of his decisions. All these were rushing in, in the split of a second.
As that thought flashed through his mind, his fist tightened into a blow. He unleashed all the strength he could gather and struck the wall.
"Craaaac-kerrrr," his punch broke off the hindering wall.
The bricks in his way came down with crumbles and dust all over him.
Because of the force, his hand went into the house and the rest of his body was outside. His legs swung in space as he got hung there. But that was still good—he didn't fall off.
This time, the rays were out of the way to get rid of any obstacle. The broken wall had created an open portal, but he could not go into it. The wind messed up his hair and was getting hold of his shirt to remove it. He pulled up himself to put one of his feet back on the bar and then he would adjust the second leg on the same. Unfortunately, the ladder was no more where he left it.
"Where is it?" he bellowed.
This can't be happening at this time. Why would the staircase he used recently be gone? Gone to where? He had to calm down to find it.
Akib's feet searched aimlessly. With time, it became clear that this had been withdrawn, like the way it was given.
"My support's gone," he slowed down his struggle against the wall.
Hanging on to the wall, he forgot everything about his suffering, and he didn't remember Raph. What he had in mind was how to get out of the mystical problem.
He tried to open his eyes one more time.
"Open, eyes," he commanded. Yet, they were shut. He could see nothing.
He resolved to pleading, "My eyes, you have to open. Even if it's for the last time."
No action and no reply from the two sights.
"I am going to jump anyhow," he said to himself in conclusion.
His weight became too heavy for his hands and his eyes went drowsy. His hands started to slip off the wall because they could no longer pass through the stress. Jumping was all he had left. Before he dropped off the last bar—maybe that one would be withdrawn as soon as he left it—he felt sleepy. His pupils were getting thinner. That was the last he knew when he felt the soft, strong hand around his waist. He had been blown away.
"My leg aches," Akib groaned.
Akib thought the way into the academy of warriors was through the opening, but the resistance from the forces within showed he had missed the way. The glowing was only for endearment and familiarization. The purpose of the strange events was to entice him to come in, but there was an appointed time, and there was an appointed way.
He crawled out of the forest and was badly injured. He groaned as he tried to shift his leg, but that didn't respond. He shifted the second time—nothing happened. The leg was dead. The muscles and the veins all needed to relax from the trauma they encountered. Even his brain went out of control for the last seconds, and that's what made him drowsy. But thanks to the wrapping hand of breeze over him.
"How did I manage to get here safely?" he looked up to see the height he was.
It was then he found out he was no longer where he used to be. He had found himself in another area of the land. For the moment, he decided to forget about his problem. He had to sleep, and that's what he did.
The noise of young boys of his age woke him in the morning. Each was with weapons which they waved. As soon as he saw them, he knew they were hunting for game. But the number was larger. He wondered how they would share whatever their catch was.
Boys delighted themselves in this activity for the purpose of respect that would be accorded to the person who had the best catch. Stamina and leadership strength go hand in hand with the kind of animal you could bring to its knees.
Aside from that, these animals served as a source of meat and income for the boys. Money would be shared against the sharing of animals. But group hunting like the one this morning could only end in quarrelling.
Akib was pleased—they could help him back home. But he tried his legs again. There was an improvement. The two legs responded well but not in total obedience. He rose to his feet and advanced ahead. He halted after a few steps; he needed more time for recovery.
"Where do you think that bastard could be?"
He heard the voice of one of them speak.
"Akib can't go far. Let's keep on the search," the second replied to the first.
"Wha—what! They're looking for me?"
Lewis had gathered the young boys together, and he had presented Akib in a bad light. He made everyone believe that the trap he fell into was orchestrated by him, and Helen had attested to this as the truth. The reason they had come out this early was to lay hold on Akib and give him the deserved beating. Plans had been set in place for him. He was sure the punishment would be brutal considering this number against him. Lewis had succeeded in winning his agemates. Simply put, he would have to defend himself against the land. How would he win?
"I said it before, he's cursed. He would die like his parents," the first speaker said.
"Who didn't know that before," his second responded.
On hearing their speech, his anger arose. He felt he should just charge at the two of them. But he wouldn't try that because he was outnumbered. He lingered towards a tree and kept to its back. His movement was very slow and full of pain, but he had to swallow this to reach his destination.
Bren was one of the famous young boys living in this land. He had a good look on his face and he had the enhancement of magical ability as backup. He was the one who headed the team.
He strolled into the area where Akib hid. He found his way to the front of the tree and stopped. His movement became calculative as his feeling dragged on him. His eyeballs rotated in every direction with a magic staff on one hand and he brandished his cutlass on the other.