Ocular to the Dying Sun

A Hand that Held; part 2

“Hello, I—how are you able to—haaa… It’s not good to leave children in this dangerous place.” Elder Lymantera said while she tried retaining her lips from spewing panic and misleading words, something to avoid influencing the children in front of her.

It was useless to the other child inside the small opening, a girl with an injured shoulder because the child whimpered and remained to sink deeper against the wall that sheltered them. Compared to the younger child who was looking over Elder Lymantera’s shoulder, he seemed distracted despite their situation. He looked tired and hesitant, but the shine of curiosity did not go away from his eyes.

“What was that?” he asked as he pointed at a large chunk of the Dire-eater Mother that was previously gliding above the skies. “It shines like a superstar up in the sky, it’s amazing.” Then his pointing hand clenched and he slowly pulled his arm back to his body when it seemed like, by the way, his face crumpled, he realized that there was something wrong with how it looked.

She frantically waved his face to her, grabbing his attention and then softly touching his shoulder in assurance. “The creature is only sleeping,” explaining with her quivering voice, “tired from flying so far in the sky. You see how big it is, do you not?”

While she made this conversation as she noticed the boy’s frowning brow relax with a slow nod, she continued to converse with him, asking him about things he found “shiny” about the big floating thing. Her one hand gripped the side of the basket in a tight grip as she slowly exited the opening of the hiding hole. Her back was cold and aching the same way as her injured leg trudged on the uneven ground with difficulty.

Soon enough, the boy followed her as he rambled intently making his voice loud as if he knew the way he spoke was something Elder Lymantera needed to provide a clear mind. Broken and barely knowing what words he used, the child brought a sort of light and strength she could not explain the further she listened. His actions showed maturity and compassion beyond what age she guessed he was.

Giving a helping hand to a child bigger than him and making sure that Elder Lymantera still had the strength to hold on, she had never felt gratitude for such a young child in her life. This was a revelation she couldn’t understand but readily accepted, even the helping “head as holding cane” as he walked beside her to give support to her unstable legs.

One hand holding his scared friend while Elder Lymantera held on to his stature, tiny hands carefully patting her wrinkled ones, as support while she carried her basket. This unusual group traversed farther from a direction they knew would be safe for them, away from the battle. Far from the sound of death and magic, the longer the night reaches, the quicker they wished the silence to arrive with peace in store to come.

On the way, they encountered several small Dire-eaters, who all grazed the land and sky with their noses, avoiding them as if they were nothing. This is the true nature of these creatures. Elder Lymantera sees this with a sense of nervousness but more so in awe when she witnesses each Dire-eater pass them and the young boy break into a “wow,” and “pretty.”

She’s never seen a child, who may hide away from these creatures as they did so, be fascinated like he did not see them dangerously ruin a part of the land in frenzy pursuit of Slitark shards. Does he even know or is aware of what shards are? He is small and impressionable, but his innate curiosity and appreciation of nature’s beauty trump what age he could be in Elder Lymantera’s mind.

“Are they bad?” the child whispered as he steadied himself behind the tall clump of stumbled trees.

They’re currently avoiding a group of small Dire-eaters from the safety of a tall tree barricade that must have been the result of the magical blast that was supposed to be used as a way to defeat the large Dire-eaters. Though not so close to the Prime Magician, Elder Lymantera knows what kind of woman the current Lady Saturni is when she works. Her principles and morals will not tumble when it came to the life of lesser creatures. She’d only attack them if they were a great threat to the entire stock of Slitark shards within the facility.

Thus, her need to defeat the Dire-eater that holds a threat to a greater percentage of the populace is higher compared to its young ones. So, seeing the smaller Dire-eater alive and roaming may seem like an act of mercy but to the right now, it is a miscalculation bought by the Prime Magician’s foolish morality.

Chances of escaping while the small Dire-eater busy themselves with meager stolen bait is all she could manage, especially if she wants a way to leave their predicament. Walking in paths that prove harder and harsher the more she bore weight on her injured leg. Tears could escape from her eyes out of frustration but the sweat in her body depletes any kind of emotional sentiment, even bringing her to the point of dehydrated dizziness.

Wobbling over her charges would only become too much of a deterrent, even to the young girl who now wheezed in pain and exhaustion trying to catch up with them. The other girl has been walking slower behind them, though she still held on to the young boy’s hand, she was beginning to falter, as if she was dying.

The reason perhaps for the young boy’s eager actions to still cling to her, for the fear he sensed of her imminent loss of hope. Losing one’s will to believe in a tomorrow kills people, not by force or suddenly like stopping blood flow in your heart or head, but the slow painful death of life inching away from one’s eyes. Having faith is a trait any person needs to live, and this girl will soon lose hers.

In the same way, Elder Lymantera wanted to lose her faith in a tomorrow, but the babe who miraculously slept through everything, lay innocent and bearing whatever life she thought she should be dismissing. A tomorrow brought over by blood is nothing but an excuse to leave this world slowly from the inside. This accompanied by the compassion she still held is another reminder that what she needs to do is bring these children to safety, wherever it may be.

Gusts of wind and debris flew their way as a loud slam on the ground, just meters away from where they are, came in slews of shrieks and growls. Not far away are small Dire-eaters fighting over a Slitark shard, the size of which one could imagine is desirable and fulfilling.

Elder Lymantera had to cover the children near her so they wouldn’t feel the sting of the splinter’s flying from the destructive motion of the creature’s bodies. There was a moment where she thought they could still escape since they were still a distance away from their scuffle, but she stopped dead when she heard the shrieks of a girl.

They looked behind to realize that the young boy must have accidentally let go of the girl when she was covering for them, but it wasn’t what happened. As the scenario went, the girl was grazed by an uprooted tree and had her arm ripped off from her shoulder, and what was left of the young boy’s hand was the remains of her cold hand gripping his.

She had to curb her stomach from vomiting any kind of bile left from her stomach, and it must be worse for the boy. Yet the only thing the boy did was blankly stare at the severed arm, he was stock still clinging onto Elder Lymantera’s skirt in a tight grip, almost enough to see the effort he had to hold himself inside.

Normal people would scream in horror as they spill the shock of being involved in someone’s mutilation, but this boy did not scream. He only held the hand with a blank face filled with tears and a small drip of blood from his lips. The poor boy was being strong, trying his best to not panic without realizing that he has broken.

Elder Lymantera, for the first time since her resolve not to emotionally break trekking this forest, broke into tears as she pulled the young boy to safety while the chaos still ensued. She couldn’t check on the girl even if she still hears her cries ring through the forest because she needed to find safety for the young baby Saturni and the young boy, the boy who she inwardly felt soothed in presence become pallid in complexion.

Dragging them behind a nearby rocky shelter, she let the boy sit by the wall while placing the basket beside him. His one hand clutched the bloody severed arm, and Elder Lmantera had to forcefully pry his grip away from the grotesqueness.

He had gripped it with his life that when he finally released it, all he did was look up at her with dread filling his eyes. She could sense that he was growing guilty and afraid from the incident, that he suddenly said, “she’s still alive…”

Elder Lymantera wanted to say “no” but he continued saying, “she’s screaming. I want to help her. Papa said leaving a family behind is bad. He wouldn’t leave her behind.”

Hearing his words doesn’t help her think of anything but how careless and thoughtless their parents must be to travel with their children as if they’re confident that they could protect their children in such a dangerous place. She thinks of this for the Prime Magician who held her birth in the weeks within and along the ceremony of the Ocular, and so she does for the child that looked at her with fear but earnest worry for his friend.

“No,” she said albeit trembling and almost barely heard. “Stay here…”

There was an abrupt feeling of pressure that coursed through her arms, they were coming from the boy as he held onto her. Face stained with soot and tears, hands covered in dried blood, he directly stared at Elder Lymantera with his mouth in a straight line as he said in finality, “no one left behind. She’s a friend of mine, I don’t want her to feel pain.”

Imagining the strength of his words and his influence felt like an unbecoming pressure though warm was drowning her in what she felt like a surge of strength and an unyielding nervousness, much the way when the Primer Magician acted within the boundaries of their magic. She’s witnessed Lady Saturni use her magic several times in her career as a Primer Magician and the same weight of presence coming from a young boy could easily confuse her, but she isn’t.

She’s taking the warmth from his arm in stride and a second later, her panic is turning into a stern sense of responsibility as a reminder that there is a boy who wanted to move and save them all, if possible. Who was she to turn her head in a loss of hope that shouldn’t happen for a young child like this?

Holding back the child’s grip, away from her hand, not in haste and disgust but of calm and a sense of soothing, she held his shoulders and then said. “Listen to me boy, this is a place of danger. As much as I do not know how or why you are here, I cannot in good conscience let you be. You are too young, and I want you to follow me. Stay here and hide.”

“Will you help her?” He asked in sorrow, somehow, he must have sensed the sincerity in Elder Lymantera’s voice because he slowly slouched away from her, closer to the basket where the young Saturni lay. His young hands gripped the prickly wicker tightly.

She looked beyond the rock, listening to the sound of the girl’s cries and she can sense that she is sobbing under a clump of trees. Her hesitation is overpowered by the hopes she could save the child, so in earnestness, she pushed him down to sit and warned him to not move from the hiding place.

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