“Say no to the Severynths! Take down the walls!!” The protestors lined up on the roadside and yelled their slogans while raising their banners and distributing flyers; Ewan had already refused dozens of solicitors along the way.

It’s getting worse…

The news reported several cases of violence against even the bystanders and the general citizens lately, things looked grim. They opposed the Severynths, and they opposed the perimeter wall—the giant ring that made their colony and kept them safe. And this was when they had just suffered frequent raids from the Astylinds a few months back.

The constant blaring alarms, the high alert warnings, the flashing red lights, the agitated movement of the defense force ‘War Dogs’, and the faint noises of battles trickling in from the outskirts for days shook the peace of Obria to its core. If they hadn’t had the walls or the Severynths against that kind of raid…

Ewan shook his head and rode the tram to the market area; he had more important matters at hand. The higher-ups could worry about the peace of the colony, he had his own peace to worry about.

….

A few hours later, Ewan returned home four Sols shorter and his stomach rumbling, lugging a carry bag full of medical and food supplies and slinging a secondhand fire-hazard suit from his shoulder—it had seen a lot of years, the holes and the tears proved its hardships. But he could only afford this, else he would lose what he just earned, and the venture would be meaningless.

First things first, he put the medical supplies on the kitchen counter and rushed for the bathroom—eating after four days of fasting gave him minor diarrhea.

Once he relieved the rush and came out, he slumped on the sofa with the tools to fix the suit; it was his life-saving measure after all. Normal threads he had at home wouldn’t work, he bought it for an Astylind’s fire, the temperature would be beyond their limits. But he didn’t have the official threads and couldn’t find or afford a set either. So, after rummaging through his old stuff and grinding his mind, the stapler pins stood out. An hour of struggle marred his hands with cuts and nicks, but he finally stapled each hole and tear, triple checking for any leak; he wasn’t good at it, but the suit would do for one use.

That took care of the protection, now he had to work on completing the job. He leaned back on the sofa, grunted a tired exhale, and recalled the books he had on the topic and what more he needed. The elective classes he chose included a general lecture on anatomy; Astylinds and Starons both sat in the middle of the list. Though it didn’t have any practical lessons, the slideshows were vivid enough for him to grasp the vital points, and Mr. Baryt was responsive enough to quench all his asks. Nevertheless, he still needed to refresh his memory. And so, he mustered the energy and scoured the brimming bookcase sitting by the window.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

…

…

…

The chirping crickets broke him away from the books when the moons came out, and his stomach growled as the secondary reminder. He was hungry, and so must be the monkey. When he switched the lights on and checked on her with a bowl of porridge and sautéed vegetables, as the crickets hushed from his presence, the Fire Monkey lay listless in her cage. She neither responded to the change in lighting, nor did she react to his footsteps; the creaking of the rusted cage gate couldn’t even elicit a twitch. His heart skipped a beat, and he rushed to check her, putting the tray on the side.

Luckily, the books confirmed the signs she showed—it was a process of self-sedation many Astylinds went through to conserve energy before labor. Ewan flumped on the grass beside the cage and rubbed his forehead, dreading the headache to come. The ones who self-sedated had a higher chance of rampaging during the delivery, the statistics wrote in bold words. Now he worried whether the fire suit he bought was enough to see him through the plight.

Alas, he couldn’t shirk. The only thing he could do now was to try his best and plan for the worst. Once he checked the monkey again, fed her the loose porridge without choking her, and made sure she rested well in the cage, he latched the door and went back to reading. Just this time, he picked up a hefty book of law with a brown hardcover—it had everything related to Obria’s legal system.

While reading, he also contacted Uncle Thain about the issue, the new idol song playing instead of the ring as always, and consulted him, though he had to suffer the scolding for the first ten minutes.

“Are you playing with your life!” The cracked voice from the phone pushed the speaker to its limits. “If you needed help, why didn’t you come to me?” Uncle Thain yelled.

“I can deal with it myself,” Ewan said, his voice dim, keeping the phone away from his ears.

“Is this how you deal with it? Risking your life for mere pocket change? Are you taking me as a joke?”

“It’s all under control, you don’t have to worry.” Ewan tried to allay the heat.

“Would you call me if it was under control! Huh!!”

….

When the intensity of the conversation simmered down, Ewan finally worded his concern on the matter and asked for advice, though he stayed adamant on handling everything himself. Favors had long lost his trust, he neither wanted to owe nor wanted to be owed anymore. Even if it was Uncle Thain on the other end, he didn’t have the capacity to cross that bridge. There was only one who could still make him walk over, but she had already shut him out…

Uncle Thain listed several solutions that Ewan wrote down for hours, from the worst-case scenarios to the most favorable ones. They talked of each outcome, the best way of handling them, and the repercussions in case everything went wrong. And by the time they ended the call, the counter on the phone showed four hours and fifty minutes. The night still had many more hours to go though, and he had to use the time as best as he could, so Ewan went over the list once more and switched back to the anatomy books.

The sky purpled then grayed, and the morning quietly bled through the night, only the tweets of the rising birds announced its presence. As Ewan stretched, groaned, and rubbed his weary eyes on the sofa, and as the sun cleared the fences of his yard, he got a call from his school—it was bad news.