SCARRED CHILD
“What have we done!”
“A sign the end is near!”
“How can this happen? This cannot be!”
Exclamations erupted throughout the town center where every birth was witnessed by the townsfolk to celebrate the new life brought to their village. Today was to be the most celebrated day in a century—the beginning of the Days of Many. For one month every century, the sun never leaves the sky and the weather remains pleasant allowing local agriculture to boom, leading to years of prosperity. The Days of Many are always ushered in with the birth of a child, a child referred to as the Axiom, and is garnered as the greatest asset to the realm. This year was different for many reasons, the biggest being the scarred child.
A child left on the steps leading to the town’s center wept soundlessly, vocal cords torn from screaming since the moment of his birth. The townspeople scurried through the streets in a panic, heedlessly waiving lit torches to light their way. They gathered all the possessions they could feasibly carry and headed for the nearest gate leading out of the town. For night had fallen on the inception of the Days of Many.
“Hey! Girl! Get away from that thing!” Shouted a guard assisting with the mass departure. A young girl of only fourteen moons of age looked up at the man with shock. “That monster is the cause of this insanity and it’s not been in this world for more than half a day!” The guard rushed to the side of the girl and lifted his boot.
“The Elders commanded us to leave this creature here to rot and to avoid the fallout of its death, but I am willing to contend with any punishment that is given to me. Everything I have built up is gone because of this blight.” With a mighty grunt, the guard slammed his foot down with enough force to shatter the flagstone steps.
“NO!” screamed the girl just before the boot hit the stone. Stone fragmented and flew through the air, injuring everyone in a radius around the man. Blood fell from the guard’s brow as he stepped back to witness the savagery he’d wrought.
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Through the clouds of dust his enforced stomp had kicked up, he only heard the sound of soft whimpering. “Come now, girl. That thing is now gone. There’s no need to waste tears on it and maybe the sun will come back to us.” The guard blindly spoke to where the girl was inside the dust cloud. “Let me help you carry your things. If we’re going to travel together, I’m not going to call you Girl. What is your name?”
“I’m called Lyla.” The meek voice of the girl spoke. The guard turned around as quickly as he could and saw her. Thin with silver hair that reached her shoulders and pale lavender eyes that looked slightly too big for her small frame. “What is yours?” Lyla said in a nonplussed voice.
“ V-v-v-oric.” the guard stammered out while looking between Lyla and the cloud where he thought she was. “How’d you get behind me? And the crying! No. I know I smashed that abomination. I used all my strength. I couldn’t have missed it!” The cries grew louder as both of them turned to the quickly settling dust. Laying beside the destroyed step was the child, who had gained enough strength to start fussing again. Voric’s face filled with terror as he stared in front of him with wide eyes. “By the Lumen, we are doomed.” With a burst of speed, Voric retreated towards the nearby gate only giving a halfhearted attempt to grab Lyla to bring her to safety. Lyla easily slipped his grasp as Voric screamed at everyone nearby to leave their stuff and get away from town as quickly as they could.
Voric was the leader of the guards of the town called Fulrog. For countless years he had defended the town from beasts and bandits, so when he spoke, everyone listened. The resulting stampede of people partially destroyed the town. Buildings burned as torches and candles were knocked over as the residents fled, and livestock broke through their stables and desperately rampaged through town in an attempt to escape the flames. Bodies trampled by the masses were strewn across the streets causing them to run crimson.
Luckily the crowds stood clear of the town center where Lyla and the child were. As people screamed and yelled around her, Lyla approached the weeping newborn with caution and curiosity. Like the rest of the town, she had witnessed the birth and had been taken aback by what she saw. Although, she wasn’t mortified like the rest of the town, but curious. She looked on with pity as the people around her cursed the child who had barely taken its first breath. She felt sorrow knowing that the child was destined to die and made a decision to help it if she had the chance.
Lyla lifted the baby into her arms as slowly and gently as she could. The first thing she noticed were the scars. From where she sat at the birthing, she could see that he was horribly scarred, but now she saw the full extent as she held him. About half of his skin was covered in scars ranging from thin straight lines to jagged ones as thick as heavy twine. His face was mostly clear except for two curved lines starting at his right temple and ending in the middle of his throat.
Lyla smiled as she looked at the child, having helped healers, she knew how to care for people but a newborn was not something she was familiar with. She’d taken care of small children when their parents went out to contribute to the town but that was the extent of her knowledge. The child had survived the torment and neglect of the first few hours of his life so she knew with a bit of care from her, the baby would survive. As she sneaked out of one of the gates she couldn’t help but speak her thoughts out loud. “I’ve always wanted a brother, now what should I call you?”