The Rise of the Omega Supreme

(POV: Deniel)

I sense sweat dripping down my forehead and ending on my chin. I’ve been chopping wood for the stove and the campfire for nearly five hours straight. It seems like a cold front is coming. I’ve traveled all over the world in search of a home, from north to south, east to west. Vismanyerous cities with diverse cultures, but nowhere did I sense at home. Until I found this place at the top of Mirage Mountain.

The climb is very dangerous, as it’s surrounded by rock on all sides. But when you reach the top, the view lives up to its name, and it makes you glad you faced the danger to get here. The view from up here is so incredible… Hence the name of the mountain.

At the foot of the mountain flows the Deivis River. Named after the man responsible for dividing the land belonging to two feuding farmers many years ago. Only watching the sunrise here makes me feel renewed. I never tire of seeing the same scene every morning: the beautiful array of tree-covered mountains with the river flowing at their feet is breathtaking, captivating, soothing, and relaxing.

Today is the day to go to town to buy supplies, so I hurry to finish my wood-cutting task. When I’m done, I put it in a bag and head inside. I store it by the stove and go to the bathroom. After undressing, I take a quick cold shower (but I’m used to it). I wrap a towel around my waist and go to my room on the first floor.

When I arrive, I dry off and put on black boxer briefs, ripped blue jeans at the knees, a checkered shirt with sleeves rolled up to my elbows. And, to finish, my black boots.

After styling my hair and applying some cologne to my neck, I step outside. As I’m about to raise my hand to lock the door, I pause.

“Damn it! Heck!” I hear a soft voice exclaim.

The female voice sounds low, and from the tremor in her words, I can tell she’s frightened. I wonder why?All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

With nothing better to do, I decide to see what’s going on. After all, this mountain is mine, and I don’t usually receive visitors.

I approach one side of the mountain quickly and spot a girl nearly falling. Without thinking rationally, I walk briskly to the edge of the cliff where a girl is hanging, and I grab her hand, pulling her up.

Her eyes… They’re beautiful. A light aqua green so clear that I find myself hypnotized by them. I hold my breath. I sense my body stiffen as I lower my gaze to her delicate, kissable lips.

Small, plump, well-shaped, and reddish. Is it wrong for me to want to know the taste of those lips that are currently driving me to the brink of madness?

Her hair is long, straight, voluminous, making her even more beautiful than I can see through the dirt on her tired, pretty face.

Her medium-sized but perky breasts are hidden behind a discreet black blouse. I begin to imagine what they would look like without that piece of clothing covering them.

I snap out of my reverie and realize I’m not the only one enchanted. By the way she’s looking at me, I’d say she’s almost drooling. I smile internally, pleased to know that I affected her as much as she affected me. I contain myself from laughing; after all, I’ve been shamelessly assessing her as well.

Once again, without thinking, I realize she’s very debilitated due to the recklessness of climbing without the necessary equipment. What a crazy woman.

When I pick her up in my arms, I think I’ve picked up nothing because she’s so light. She doesn’t say anything, only leans her head against my chest. I sense a shiver, an unfamiliar feeling invading me, making me want to take care of her and protect her. It makes me tense up. The last time I felt this, I couldn’t protect the people I loved most in the world.

I open the door to my house and consider putting her down. But I realize she fell asleep in the short time it took me to get here. Maybe she’s in pain, and her body couldn’t take it, so she passed out.

I head to the only bathroom in my house and carefully remove the rest of her clothes. Which is challenging because there’s no bathtub or shower here. I wrap her in one of my unused towels and take her to the guest room on the first floor, laying her on the bed. I don’t know why I keep this room, as I never receive visitors. I go down the stairs and retrieve her backpack from the couch.

I take out some underwear and a nightgown, then head to the kitchen and grab the first aid kit from under the sink before returning to the room. I clean all her wounds with alcohol and put cotton and makeshift bandages on the deeper cuts to protect them. I dress her and look at her while she sleeps.

What the hell am I doing? Why am I taking care of and watching over this girl I don’t even know? Why do I sense my being invaded by emotions I thought had died with my family?

I clench my jaw.

I assess the young, now clean face. Something about that face reminds me of someone, but I still don’t know who. She’s so beautiful, like an angel, and I bet there are a bunch of crazy guys after her. I sense a slight discomfort at the thought.

I can’t be interested in a girl I’ve known for less than twenty-four hours. I’m too old for teenage flings. The right thing to do is to forget this strange feeling that has emerged in my soul. It’s only what I needed, to erase her naked image from my mind and keep locked away what I was beginning to feel.

With not much else to do, I lie down on the other side of the bed and fall asleep. I shouldn’t be sleeping now, especially not here with her, but I doze off and only wake up the next day. For a moment, I had forgotten about the girl on the other side of the bed. But hearing the sound of her breathing reminds me, and a small smile escapes my lips.

I must be going crazy. I’ve been alone for so long that the first company that comes along drives me crazy and captivates me. I get up, put on sweatpants and a shirt, and before leaving the room, I cover her partially exposed body.

I leave the room, go to the bathroom for my personal hygiene, and take a quick shower. I get dressed and leave the bathroom. I go to the kitchen cabinet and see it’s empty except for a can of soup and a package of cookies. I didn’t even go to town to stock up on supplies. I grab the package and head to the living room in search of a book to read; my thoughts wander.

I think about how my life has changed. I’ve had various phases in my six hundred years of existence, from a young and diligent wizard’s apprentice to a complete debauchee and promiscuous.

I’ve had so many women that I’ve lost count, but none of them has sparked instant interest like this girl. Not even my creation, for whom I thought I was in love some time ago, and remembering her young age is like a shot in the leg. I’m too old for her, not to mention that I don’t know her, and I won’t have the opportunity. It would have been better if I had never gone to the cliff, but then she might have died. And that thought sends a shiver down my spine.

I finish eating and throw the packaging in the trash, clean my hands and mouth, then return to the room and sit in a chair, waiting for the little girl to wake up.

The Sleeping Beauty takes a long time to awaken, and I’m concerned about this endless sleep. I administered a sleep aid to her to keep her strong. Twenty-four hours of sleep is not normal. She wakes up. I find out her name is Renata, a beautiful name, and it means reborn.

After she’s awake, I take her to the kitchen to feed her. I serve the only thing in the house at the moment, a can of soup. Despite seeming nervous and shy, she has no shame in eating. I wait for her to finish eating.

We head to the living room, and I discover that she likes to read. I give her a supernatural romance novel, hoping she won’t forget me and that maybe one day we’ll meet again when she’s older.