Ocular to the Dying Sun

Voices of Hurting; part 6

“It’s wrong to feel this when we’re still in the middle of looking for Captain’s child, but I’m grateful that we all survived this dilemma.” He said, more so under his breath than out loud.

“Don’t let the Captain hear you say that,” Sacr said. “The result of this battle is nothing but a farce, we still have to deal with the political side of everything. Remember, those ‘Kabay rebels’ were here. Either ruining their name or blatantly killing a part of the government that shouldn’t even be considered during this ceremony of blessing.

“Slitark shards are very important to our society, without this gift, we couldn’t be able to control magic and our lands as it is. Being entitled to feel this way is our gift, but we have a time and place to celebrate.” Sacr steered her Sari-manok in a direction but paused when she heard something and at breakneck speed, ran towards the sound.

“Did you hear that??” she asked Epiro, her ears intent on hearing that sudden sound.

Epiro was not keen to notice it at first but soon found himself listening and hearing the sound. Distinct humming could be heard from in front of them with an eerie echo through the trees. Behind them, the group of soldiers ran as fast as they could to catch up but had to struggle because of how hasty the stead ran.

Not far, Yphemu was listening to the sky, afloat again. She couldn't stand staying in one place, on the ground, so above she went to utilize the winds as she tried sensing the magic that swirled around them. The winds were coming from the eastern part of the forest blowing northwest.

Having her second in command and subordinate behind, on the ground, kept her on tabs of the proximity below. That’s when she realized that an entity seems to exude magic that could be mistaken for that of Light. Something akin to healing, the same kind she does whenever she imbues a shard meant for the living.

Restless with a reason yet to unfold; she flitted towards their direction and found herself listening to a small child’s humming. The voice was curious but calm, serene enough to think it was a musing of a passive child sleeping in the middle of pain.

Thundering dull ache pestered her heart and found that her subordinates are beside a dead small-size Dire-eater and what seems to be a body of a boy. He was too young to be considered someone willing to roam the grounds of the forest.

His body was filled with soil and blood, thick enough to believe that he was dead, but he wasn't. Sacr was kneeling beside the boy with Epiro on the side pointing at a few of the men, dispersing them.

“Sacr?” Yphemu called.

Her arrival was a trigger for Sacr to look up, her face wide-eyed with a gaunt expression of disbelief.

“Lady Yphemu, we’ve found a child under a dead Sprout. Its death shows signs of Light magic traces, perhaps death from one of your Light pillars.” Sacr’s voice spilled with disbelief, and the essence of disgust, at the state the boy was as she found him. “We heard a humming sound in this direction and eagerly dug out this boy. There were no signs of life other than him, from this distance. But after discovering his remains, we’ve halted moving any further due to the extent of his body’s damage.”

It was a distance, they’re miles from the ceremonial grounds and it was not just a simple walk in the park. She is riding a Sari-manok that could run several miles an hour to reach this place. There are no children as young as this boy, he must be a straggler from the outside.

Yphemu knelt beside Sacr and observed the boy herself, noticing that his injuries were too trivial to discern but the fact remains several parts of his body is broken and bleeding.

“My lady, we’ve only done a superficial once over.” Sacr looked at Yphemu, her face showing the hesitation she was riddled with, between wanting to carry the boy to a better place and leaving him on the ground in fear of making things worse. “Broken ribs. Several cuts on the side of his arms. Mutilated lower legs. Laceration on his left torso, we cannot see any reason to—”

“He’s holding a shard,” Yphemu said as she moved forward to the right side of his body.

The right arm was folded inward, close to his chest, but was too caked in the blood that they thought it was a part of his body that bulged from his ribs. Clenched fists lightly lifted as Yphemu parted his finger and saw a bright turquoise shine.

Buzzing sparks emitted from the shard but it was small and thin that no one would notice it from under the grasp of his tiny arm. She wondered when he had the time to hold the small shard but what impressed her more is the presence of strong Light magic keeping his body in check.

This was the reason he was alive, the minuscule spark that was left inside the shard he clung under his grip. Epiro and Sacr witnessed this and managed to gasp at how they realized it was impossible but the boy might not be dead after all.

Something inside Yphemu burst, her eyes misted, and what once was a hope diminishing felt uplifted. She knew the moment the child's shard sparks gave more energy to his barely breathing lungs that this boy was a Prime Magician, a future candidate. One with the same amount of energy of Light that holes within her.

Holding his tiny hand and directly focusing on the tiny shard, she immersed a part of her Light into his magical flow and both direct subordinates around them eyed the growing brightness with shock, slightly looking away.

After she imbued the tiny shard with her magic, the current flowing to receive and give the right amount of flow arranged itself in a way that emitted a stronger kind of healing. A surprise was not the word to say when she found she didn't even need to do much but fix one problem with the way the boy cast his magic within the shard, the rest was like breathing.

Natural strong Light magic swirled within as if it had been there since the beginning, just like what she would do when she ritually gives the shards their blessing of cleansing. However, it's not just the way his magic contained perfection, the young boy managed to do it without pressuring the shard to break.

Her face was passive but inside the warmth of his presence gave her spark anew, not to replace her grief but a hope that she thought would not be discovered so quickly. One touch at a time, she held the shard and hovered her hand over his body.

Innate mending started within his body faster than it did minutes ago, making sure that his life will be saved. He was a natural, born, survivor.

Like a lightbulb, she looked at her direct subordinates, “Sacr, remain here and wait until his body mends.” A small smile graced her face filled with exhaustion. “No matter his origin, he possesses something I cannot disregard.”

“Did…Lady Yphemu, did we see correctly?” Sacr asked, aware of the magic she witnessed. “Was that his doing, transferring Light magic into shards?”

Yphemu nodded and watched the boy sleep, even though he could still hear him hum albeit discreetly.

“Perhaps my Lord Saturni has been reborn, or an early blessing from the blessed Slitark, but I never knew that I would witness such a thing early.” She whispered, “I’ve found a child with the same amount of Light, stronger even. He must be taught magic; we mustn’t waste his talents.”

Signaling to Epiro, “continue the score of the forest for other Dire-eaters, I—Sacr, I leave this child to you. Get him back to Verbasi and relay to him what you've witnessed here."

The two nodded and she left with an emotion mixed with elation for tomorrow and perhaps finding her daughter in all this chaos.

▓▓▓▓▓

Shadows played their trick under the stark moonlight Slitark fondly cast on the forest filled with white as the silence continued to ring in their ears. Both Uran and his men traveled across the now creature-free forest as if telling them that the cold was enough of a reason for them to leave.

Mistakes were made and a whole crew must be given compensation, enough for them to believe in their cause again. Having ready hands, from a bond close to family and loyal, cannot be broken easily; but guilt and regret bear more fruit than anyone can atone for.

Exactly the reason why Uran who sat quietly on the edge of their Festoon and glided over the trees discreetly felt, utter remorse and guilt for the deaths of the children he promised would not be harmed by those families who believed they would come live with them.

He not only overestimated his ground searching for shards to mine and sell, or use, he’s forgotten that he is only human, and anything can truly happen without him knowing what to do. That shook his heart so much he could only look under his feet like a dead man.

Was it a matter of pride? Or true remorse for his inability to serve others? He's not here to remind himself that he is needed the same way his wife needed him, but his eyes could not stop browsing the world and feel the bleakness that was the loss he could not prevent.

“Waaaaaaaaah—”

“Did you hear that?” Uran whispered, more to himself before he heard the crying sound grow louder. “Stop, did you hear that?” He clearly said.

Ugnile slowed the Festoon and heard the same cry Uran noticed, “is that…a child’s cry?”

Alert eyes scoured the ground amidst the speed they flew with, and Uran saw a body leaning back at the edge of a wall of thick tree roots. He automatically jumped to investigate and found a basket.

Inside bundled in a blanket covered in dirt and grime was a baby. Their lungs were so loud that he could swear his ears popped as he neared.

“Holy gods, it’s a baby,” Ugnile said as he stopped the Festoon where Uran went.

Not far was a limp body of an old woman, she was breathing but rugged, with blood on her leg and arm. Her head lolled to the side, and she woke up, looking half dazed.

Kneeling beside the basket to peer at the baby, Uran gingerly held its head and the baby slowly stopped crying. Clear amber eyes looked at him, moist and red before it continued wailing.

“P—please…,” said the old woman.

Uran watched as she went back to sleep and the child continued to cry. Without thinking twice, he carried the child and looked at Erizoma.

"Get her into the Festoon, let's just drive as carefully as we can until we get nearer the crevice." He ordered them.

They didn’t think twice, and both followed his words, while Uran was left clutching the child, cradling it fondly. Not thinking, he wiped his one hand and touched the child’s forehead, and a slight smile graced his tired face.

What’s another life to save?

⸶ ᴥ ⸷