“Ma! Look’it that!”

Willard leaned hard against the railings of the observatory. To think he was on the highest peak of all of Bagiraek, on the grand overhang overlooking the Boran Sea. It was one of those comfortable days of the year when summer had just transitioned into fall. The air was cool, but the sunlight through the cloudless skies was just warm enough for one to shed their overcoats. Willard’s long, dark hair fluttered in the wind. He grinned. Not even raptors would soar this high into the sky. A giant beam of water shot out of the calm waters, and tiny fishing boats had circled it like beetles next to a fountain.

It was the annual hunt for a Purple-Striped-Songwhale, a leviathan that dwarfed even the floating settlement islands of Heaven Continent.

“Mr. Manolo! Get off that handrail this instant!” a voice called behind him. Weird. Willard felt like he’d heard that voice before.

“It’s quite alright, Mrs. Sterling. Let him play all he wants.” It was mother’s voice. Just a bit shriller than he remembered, but it contained all the usual sweetness.

“But, ma’am, he’s-”

“He knows when to stop. Gets that from his father.” A sigh. “Why don’t you go enjoy yourself a bit, Trish? He rented the entire place out for us. Would be a waste if all of us just hang around on the balcony.”

“What about your…condition? I can’t jus-” Hushed voice carried over by the wind. Willard was beginning to wonder what they were going on about when a second blow rippled across the waters.

“Ma! It’s starting!”

“I’m alright, Trish. I feel fine. Really. Best I’ve been in months. Just give me…five minutes, ok? Five minutes with my son. Alone.”

“…please excuse me, then.” Footsteps. The sounds of an iron hatch opening. Footsteps echoing down a flight of stairs. Silence.

“Hey, Will,” mother said, coming over to his side of the balcony.

“Look, look, look!”

Far into the sea, brilliant flashes erupted from the tiny boats. The booms came four seconds later, like the crack of bones twisting. Another stream of water shot out from the depths as several yellow floaters emerged from the water, and soon the slick grey back of the Songwhale rose to the surface. Sunlight glanced off the purple stripes across its back, turning them a brilliant scarlet, brighter than the lights on the boats. If Willard had been down on the beach, he would’ve heard the shrill screeches of the leviathan, sounds that one wouldn’t expect such a large creature could make. There was no thrashing.

“They’re gonna use those big speakers now!”

Sure enough, something pitch black appeared on the ship’s decks, and soon the beast’s howls went silent.

“They’ve got ‘im!” Willard shrieked, giggling whilst he jumped down from the railings.

“…yes…they did,” mother mused, “I’ve never understood your fascination with these things.”

“Don’t you think it’s poetic?” Willard went back to his bag, took out his tiny blue notebook and scribbled something in it, “How tiny people like us can beat such towering creatures?”

“I…it’s a spectacle, that is certain. But…some things aren’t supposed to be disrupted, much less hunted.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“…sorry, it’s nothing.” She went back to her bench and gazed at him. Willard stared back, half-wishing she would pick him up to spare him the trouble of climbing onto the bench. She didn’t. Willard pouted, knowing that if dad was here, he probably would’ve done so. Mother smiled.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“So…how is it? Enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah!” That little pile of frustration in Willard’s throat melted away in an instant. “It’s fantastic! This place…this building…this gorgeous view…” He stopped. “…I just wish dad was here.”

“You know he can’t come. He’s got himself wrapped in all those business meetings…trips, blah blah blah. He doesn’t have time for us.” Mother tried her best to cover the sadness in her voice.

“Why can’t he just make more time? He makes so much of everything else.”

Mother chuckled.

“You know, Willard Manolo Price, sometimes I wonder just who occupies that little mind of yours.” She sighed. “I don’t feel like I’m talking to a five-years-old at all. It worries me sometimes.”

Willard frowned, not used to being called his full name. “Isn’t that a good thing? I can grow up faster and take care of you in his place.”

Mother smiled, reached over and pinched Willard’s cheek. “I’d love that. But let’s give him another chance, okay?”

“Fine.” He extended his arms, letting her pick him up and prop him next to her. The warm autumn sun made him sleepy as a blissful peacefulness seeped into his heart. He was happy. He was happy now. He had been happy moments before. And he knew he would be happy for the following day or two. It was something he missed. He didn’t know why he felt like he missed it, since he couldn’t even remember what happened yesterday. But that didn’t matter now.

“Dad will sort everything out, right?”

“He will.”

“What about those bad guys from Mors…?”

“It’s fine. He always gets things right, at the end of the day. They’re not bad guys, either. Just…misguided, that’s all.” Mother put her hand on his head and stroked his hair gently. “You shouldn’t be worrying about that. Leave it to the adults.”

“…who’ll the adults go to, then?”

Mother paused.

“My, my. You might’ve gotten me stumped on that one.”

“Really?” Willard frowned. Mother always had an answer before. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

“What?” she laughed, “Why’s that? Be proud, Will. You’ve just bested someone six times your age. At this rate I can’t imagine how you’ll be when you grow up. Probably changing the world.”

Willard grinned. “Like dad?”

“No. Your change would be bigger. Better. I have full faith in you.”

“Woah…” Willard’s voice trailed off. A change bigger than father had brought. There was nothing his immature mind could compare that to. He decided to worry about it later.

“You know what, Will?” Mother nudged him.

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t we come back here the next chance we get and see how far you’ve gotten.” She hung back and playfully tapped the tip of his nose.

“Really? We can?!” Willard’s eyes brightened. He’d give anything to spend more time in this tranquil place, alone with mother atop the giant, empty observatory, the fresh mountain air in his lungs and the gentle winds on his cheeks. It was better than anything. Better than the feasts, the parties, the people. Just here, on the peaks, with no one but himself and mother to share his heart with.

“Of course. I’d say in a year. Half, if dad’s efficient.”

“Woah…I…I’d love that. Please.”

“It’s a promise, then.”

“…I don’t know what to say.”

“You can start by saying ‘I love you, Mom’.”

“I love you!” Willard grinned.

“And I love you too.” Mother wiped something from her eyes and pulled Willard close to her. It might’ve been an illusion, but suddenly Willard could hear the sounds of waves sloshing against the golden beach far below them as if he was right next to it, the sea stretching as far as the eye can see until it finally merged with the cerulean clearness of the sky.

“I’ll convince dad to come next time,” Mother said, tapping her feet to the rhythmic strokes of her hand.

“…If he has time.”

Mother chuckled. “He’ll make time for us. Right now…we have all the time in the world.”

Willard snuggled closer into her arms. He wasn’t cold, but he suddenly felt comforted by the warmness those hands conveyed. Call it divine intuition, but he somehow knew this moment wouldn’t last. Yet now, eyes shut, head in her arms and the mellow breeze whispering in his ears, he felt like he could stay this way for a long, long time.

Ten thousand years later, the Jugang would find a statue of a small child cuddled in his mother’s arms, asleep forever atop the highest peak of Bagiraek.