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03 - Ikazuchi

Heron, 3 years old and immensely curious, a charming young boy who delights all those he meets with his bright smile, his wavy silver hair and his natural affinity to win people over – is how our town mayor described me to my parents. Our town mayor is a charming old lady who doubles as a Child Psychiatrist at our local clinic, where my mother works. She requested to see me just to ascertain whether or not my parents were raising me correctly. It’s funny how people value children in this world! The children are actually entitled to more benefits than most of the seasoned soldiers we had when I led them. This is something that I have to look into when the opportunity arises.

Anyway, the old lady up and left and even gave me a treat. She checked me all over and asked my parents a couple of questions, all standard stuff like my eating habits, my sleeping habits and my playing habits and my parents’ answers seemed to be what the good lady was looking for. Her electric blue eyes gave me one last sweep before leaving and she mouthed something to me though what it was is a whole ‘nother story.

With my father leaving for his job and my mother preparing for hers (Definitely not child neglect. The clinic is right across our house.) I proceeded to our humble library and returned to my spot. I got the nearest book (Flora and Fauna: The many wonders of our green land) and started reading it. Ironic because our land is filled with ice and little sunshine but the more you know, right? The book was leather bound and it was at least 6 inches thick. How could my parents afford this sort of book?

Books in this world, like in my own, are a luxury. Only the rich or the monks could afford them and each book’s value is approximately equal, if not higher, than the worth of our humble abode. It stands to reason that my parents may not have been perfectly honest with me growing up, or that I had simply grown rusty and my ‘powers of perception’ aren’t as good as they used to be. In retrospect, our ‘humble’ library housing something like 200 books should be worth more than all of the houses combined here in our village. Fascinating.

Finishing the book in record time, I closed it and meditated on what I have read. There are over fifty thousand species of plants and a couple thousand unique species of animals in this region alone. Most of the animals are predators and most of them are what you would call an Earthly Beast. These beasts are usually bigger than the average Dinosaur (or dragons, as what the majority of the laymen call them) and are apparently unique to this world. I noted the ways to debilitate or if necessary, kill them. I also made a note on which plants were safe for consumption or which of them had medicinal effects or which of them could be used to cause unwanted harm. It took me another hour of meditation to have these facts memorized and known by heart.

With my eyes growing tired and weary, I proceeded to the window and focused my gaze to a faraway place. The midday sun hit me in my eyes and I was blinded for a good second or two. As I started to regain my vision, a sudden movement below alerted me. I focused my still-recovering gaze and noticed the silhouette of a little girl trying to shy away from my sight. She seems familiar to me so I decided to go down and greet her.

Running down the steps and rushing through our furniture, I exited my house and saw the familiar old Peppermint tree basking in the Sun’s glow. I rushed past it and a sudden but gentle gust of wind hits me in the face but I kept moving forward. I skipped over our fence and taking careful precautions so that I would not slip due to all of the ice, I kept running. Finally, I happen upon the girl who was still hiding from me. She had long red hair that grew to her waist and she sported the usual commoner attire most of the children wore. She had these familiar electric blue eyes that pierced me to my core. She was pretty but she was still a child. Gazing upon her, I recall a certain old woman. That’s it. She’s that old lady’s kid.

Heron: Hi there. My name is Heron. What’s yours?

I struggled to recall how to speak like a child but it was futile. She’s the same age as I am and chances are she probably can’t speak well enough so I better stick to the basics.

Girl: Umuu.

Eh? Okay. We’ll try something else.

Heron: Do you want to see something cool?

Girl: (After a few moments of silence,) *Nods*

With a mystified look plastered on her face, she started watching me. I knelt on one knee and grasped a whole bunch of ice or snow from the ground. I started forming a big ball of ice and kept at it until I successfully created three separate balls of ice which grew smaller as I created each one. The girl was stupefied at what I was doing but she kept quiet and she kept on watching me.

I placed the biggest snow ball on the ground, carefully surrounding it in ice to ensure that its foundation is stable and I placed the second biggest on top of it. I carefully made sure that each ball would not collapse or detach from one another. I then grabbed the smallest one which would serve as its head and placed it on the ‘shoulders’ of the creature I have created. Yes, it’s a man made out of snow or simply put, a snowman!

I looked around for some sticks to serve as arms. I found one good arm but I am currently lacking the other.

Girl: H-here.

The girl hands me a stick and it looked identical to the one I found! Great job! Moving towards the snowman, I placed the sticks on its body and some stones to serve as its buttons. However, it lacked eyes, a nose and mouth but it was good enough.

(Snap)

Eh? What was that?

Suddenly, a pristine white hand reaches out to me with a button. It was the same type of button on my clothes. The girl is offering me one of the precious few buttons from her own clothes. I bow my head towards her and take her button in my hands.

(Snap)

I took one button from my clothes and together, our buttons served as the snowman’s eyes, the windows to its soulless void. Satisfied with our ‘work’, I pat my hands to shake of the snow and I smiled at the snowman.

Child: (whispers) Esha.

Heron: Esha, it is a pleasure to meet you. Like I said, I am Heron. Care to be friends?

I reached out my hand to her and gave her a smile.

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Esha: R-really? You don’t find me odd or repulsive?

She sounded down and she is still whispering her words but wow! What a vocabulary this child possesses!

Heron: No, definitely not! You are very pretty but crafty and witty like a rose. Let me rephrase my question. Please allow be to be your friend!

The girl grabbed my hand and I feel an abnormal amount of warmth from it. I grasped it firmly and smiled at the girl.

Esha: O-okay. Y-you are my friend from now on, Heron.  We are friends from now on.

Heron: I am grateful. I am sorry about your button though, you didn’t have to break it off.

Esha: It’s quite alright. Teehee. It was nice meeting you H-heron. I have to go back, I cannot stay out and about when it’s dark.

She turns around and she starts walking but not before looking at me one last time.

She gives me a brilliant smile and she runs off but before completely disappearing, she gives one last look at the snowman that we made and smiled to herself.

What a cute child.

Noting the position of the sun, I realized that I myself had to get home because my mother herself was heading home. I finished making sure that the snowman would last at least until a week in this cold before running back inside our property. As I jumped over our fence, I note that the Peppermint tree was still standing proud with a tinge of red surrounding it from the soon to set sun. I smiled at it and ran inside my home to spend time with my mother.

With the fire’s warmth greeting me, I run towards my mother and give her a hug.

Heron: Momma! Momma! I made a friend today!

Beatrice: Really? Momma is proud of you. Who is your friend?

Heron: Umm. She said her name was Esha! She had this super cool red hair and blue eyes like the mayor!

I feel the room’s temperature suddenly falling deeper. The coldness is unbearable but what’s even more surprising is my mother’s stupefied face.  She picks herself back up and she looks at me not with compassion but with sympathy.

Beatrice: Child, where did you hear that name?

Eh? Why is my mother reacting like this?

Heron: I just told you Momma, Esha told me her name.

Beatrice: (laughs nervously) This must be some sort of joke. Oh, you child.

She glances at our yard. Watching my mother, I noticed that her jaw tensed up and her eyes opened wide in a panic for a second but it was gone as soon as it appeared. Strange, indeed.

Heron: Momma, is something wrong?

Hearing the concern in my voice, my Mother scoops me up and she hugs me close to her bosom. I can feel her warmth overtaking my senses.

Beatrice: Momma is sorry for worrying you Heron. You can be friends with Esha, just make sure you do not offend the others.

The others? Is she talking about the other children from the village? Is this the sort of scenario where the kids gang up on the bizarre kid and bully her? Well I’m not going to let that happen, no way. My pride as a Man would never allow that to happen.

Heron: Momma, I promise to pwotect Esha.

Beatrice: Oh you! You’re so cute!

She hugs me tighter and with a laugh, she lands on our sofa and hugs me close to her.

The front door opens and my stupefied father with his hunt for the day (It’s a deer) is slack jawed at the sight of the mother and child combo resting on the sofa.

Nelo: So I come home to the woman of my dreams snuggling another man in MY sofa?

My father gives a hearty laugh as his carelessly handsome face contorts into pure joy upon seeing his family again.

Beatrice: Oh stop being stupid dear and join us!

My father carefully places his hunt on the table and kneels in front of us and he grabs us close to him. I could smell the game on his clothes but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was the smell of productivity and passion.

Nelo: I love the both of you so very much! Hear that Heron! Poppa loves you lots!

Heron: I know that but I loves momma more!

I hear the comedic sound of GUEHH coming from my father as he reverts to an OTL shape as he bows his head in shame. It’s the basic nuclear family psychology. The mother is in control of everything therefore, the child has to win her favor. The father is the provider, however, all final decisions are made by the mother.

In short: Become a momma’s boy and live a happy childhood. It seems unnecessarily mean but survival is the first law of nature, after all. Sorry, Dad.

After spending a couple more hours playing around with my mother and my father, we then had dinner and then I got a bath from my mother. After everything was done, I now find myself in my bed dreaming of tomorrow to come faster.

Meanwhile….

Beatrice: Nelo, did you hear what our child told me?

Nelo: I may not be as sharp as I once was but yes, I did hear. Esha. My son finally has a friend!

Beatrice: That’s not the point, idiot. But that child is the…you-know-what of the you-know-who of the village.

Nelo: Should that matter? But Ikazuchi is…

Beatrice raises her hand to silence Nelo.

Beatrice: …no.  

She takes a deep breath and looks at the Peppermint tree on their yard.

Beatrice: It shouldn’t matter.

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Author's Notes:

Hope you like this week's chapter. If you have any comments, concerns or anything you want to improve, kindly let me know by posting on this thread. Let me know what I'm doing wrong and help me build this story - to make it into something awesome. Maybe write a short review for me as well. More readers = more opportunities to make this thing bigger and better. Thanks everyone!

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