Babies love their parents. Preteens have a love-hate relationship with their parents. Teenagers hate their parents.

Why? It’s because they’re seen as the Restrictions of Joy, no matter how harmful a teenager is willing to do for some fun.

For decades, centuries, millennia, maybe since forever ago, there’s been myths about devils lurking in the woods late at night.

Of course, like every other generation, there’s always going to be a thrill-seeker who doesn’t believe it until they see it.

“Did you see him yet?” Eirome asked, peeping behind trees.

“If I saw him I would’ve told you already, Eirome!” Saviadra snapped. “Now, for the last time stop asking me.”

“Saviadra, this is only my second time asking you. Calm down would ya.” Eirome responded offensively. He kicked a load of leaves just in case the person he was searching for lied under them.

“And two times is just enough.” Saviadra said. “I can’t believe I agreed to this. I hope nothing’s happened to him.”

“It was your idea to sneak out here!” Eirome retorted.

Saviadra sharply turns to Eirome, stopping him in his tracks. “Yeah, as a joke!” She countered. “You’re the one who seriously wanted to do it. Now we’ve probably lost Jerellico to a devil. Thanks to you.”

“Jerellico was the one who wanted to split up. I don’t have a say so. He does whatever he wants. Now can we please keep moving, we’re wasting time.” Then Eirome proceeded forward.

Saviadra shook her head. “Pathetic,” she murmured under her breath.

Eirome heard that, but only surreptitiously shot a nasty glance.

Finding Jerellico was becoming less inevitable. Eirome was tempted to give up and go back home, but simultaneously he couldn’t see himself not living a insouciant life that he always had. He refused to be part of some type of speculated mystery murder heard around the village of Bisilon.

“Look.” Saviadra said, pointing down at the ground. “Is that the roots of a tree?” She wondered as it glowed green.

“I-I… think so.” Eirome replied vaguely. “Let’s see where it leads to.”

They slowly follow the trace, barely looking up to not lose track of its origins. The green glow exhilarated through their retinas, as if becoming blind to the green.

Then there it was above them; a silhouette of the letter T with a circle shape right above the center.

Both Eirome and Saviadra couldn’t keep their mouths shut together as their eyes widened, despite the bright glow.

Immediately as the T figure descended down by the branches holding it up, they recognized who it was, causing Saviadra to cry instantly. She grasped Eirome’s arm so tight that she could falter the blood flow.

“It can’t be.” Eirome blurted out, meaning to keep it to himself.

“Oh, but it can,” a baritone voice erupted from the figure, the green glow now shifted to yellow.

“Unleash the devil upon you, Jerellico!” Eirome shouted.

“I am no devil, fool.” Jerellico sardonically smiled.

“Liar!” Eirome responded incredulously.

“Never call me a liar.” Jerellico grumbled. He raised his hands in the air like a champion. “I am Father Nature!”

Petrified. Eirome and Saviadra were simply petrified. They allowed a minute to go before gathering their thoughts to form a sentence.

“No.” Saviadra remarked.

“Yes.” Jerellico replied.

“That’s impossible.” Eirome said.

“Anything’s possible with me.” Jerellico sardonically smiled once again. “You mortals convinced yourselves that earth was inherited by a goddess out of hatred for me.” Jerellico shook his head. “Idiots. I have dominion over you and I always will! You mortals make me sick. You’re weak, destructive, immature. I tried the best I could to save you from yourselves. But instead, you murder me, and spill my blood into the dirt and soils so that I couldn’t reach you any longer. Well, not anymore! The cement you build upon me won’t protect you from my wrath. I’ll destroy and rebuild new mortals. One who will obey and fear me to do no wrong. Say goodbye to your peasant lives!”