Noor paced about in the lobby of her home. Back and forth, back and forth, she walked inside biting her unpainted lips. From time to time, her eyes would dart to the sun-kissed corridor leading to the backyard garden and her pace would slow before she’d turn around and look out of the front window where white curtains giggled with the wind.
The wind playfully moved in the house, causing the wood to creak, the doors to rattle, the lantern on the round dinner table to flicker and produce shadowy tendrils that followed Noor’s movements.
She had a kind face and a slender body under the blue ankle-length tunic with a white collar, and green shimmering buttons at the front. Both her face and the tunic were marred by sweat. It was summer, and the year was steadily growing to become the hottest one, yet.
She had her bright red hair braided, but some strands had still found a way to come free, like always, and were now stuck to her forehead thanks to the sweat. In her twenties, she was no longer the young, unfettered soul that she had been in the past, and the worry in her eyes only made her look older.
“What’s taking them so long?” She whispered, softly, without a hint of strength in her voice.
Then a familiar clanking sound got her attention and she ran out of the house pushing open the heavy front door. She crossed the porch with thundering steps —the old wood hummed in resistance, even from her feeble weight— hurried down the steps, holding the front of her tunic skirt for ease, and stopped just before the dirt road. There, to her left, a horse-drawn cart was slowly coming up the road, raising red flaky dirt in its wake. Her heart thumped inside her chest as the spiked wheel of the cart clinked and clanked to a stop in front of her. The horse, brown with white socks, looked at her and neighed, bring its head closer for her to pat, but she paid it no mind and rushed to her husband who was coming down from the driving seat.
The wooden cart had no roof —as it was mostly used in and around the village— and was occupied by a clean shaved middle-aged man donning a patched dull black overcoat with a royal seal (a drop of red blood dripping down a silver needle) threaded in red and silver on the left collar.
“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for hours!” Noor questioned the taller of the two men, who raised a brow at her and sighed.
“I came back as fast as I could.” The man spoke, in a heavy rumbling voice, which put the horse’s tantrum to rest. “I had to go to Village Biguah for the doctor. The one in Samrali was indisposed.”
“Greetings, madam.” Interrupted the wiry-shaved man —the doctor. “Please, don’t be angry with your husband. The fault behind our delay lies solely with me. I had a few patients to look after, and couldn’t have come without attending to them first.”
Noor hadn’t noticed him coming down from the cart, but there he stood right behind the two. He held his top hat at the chest, and a brown leather bag in his other hand by the waist, equally old and overdue for repair as his coat; at least the bag was free of patches.
Noor grew apprehensive at first, and then gave a nod; the middle-aged man had an aura of confidence about him, and it made her awkward.
“All right, then. How’s the boy, madam? I hope he’s not suffering still.”
“I-I don’t know.” She fumbled through the words. “He’s sleeping. Yes. But he’ll be waking up soon. And, then…” She said and grew silent. The tall man, her husband, took her into his arms to comfort her, where she stayed until the doctor complained about the wind; he was not subtle with the comment, at all. At that point, Noor separated from her husband with wet eyes and flushed cheeks and welcomed him inside the house.
“I’ll hang your coat, doctor,” Noor asked at the door, but the man politely declined by waving his hand.
“I would like to see the boy actually, if it’s not a problem.” He answered instead, allowing his eyes to wander from one corner to another. In the lobby, there was only the round dining table with two bare bone chairs, tucked in the right corner, by the window. The lack of furniture made the house look bleak, and the long shadows didn’t help either. At least the ceiling was high and beamed, and the lobby was spacious. The man refrained from making any comments, yet Noor felt her cheeks growing hot.
That’s when her husband entered the house behind them, after taking care of the horse and the cart, and she hurriedly led the two through the corridor and arrived at the dimly lit room at the back of the house. There were two rooms on either side of the corridor.
“What an odd arrangement of space.” The doctor mumbled softly, but the two heard him clearly. They shared a look and the tall man shook his head. It was her who had wanted to call a doctor. Well, there he was.
The tall man pushed open the door on their left and led the doctor inside, while Noor froze at the threshold. The fear for her child made her knees buckle. Somehow, she made it inside the dimly lit room where her precious child sat ghostly silent inside his sun-kissed crib, looking out the window at the flowering backyard and the setting sun.
“Has he always been this quiet, madam?” she heard and looked away from the child. The doctor was asking her something.
“Yes?” She answered or asked, and the doctor spoke again in a similarly unhurried fashion.
“Your husband filled me regarding the situation on the way. However, considering that he’s mostly away from home and that he’s a man,” The doctor said and earned a raised brow from the tall burly man, but continued unfazed. “I would like you to tell me your side of the story so I can better understand the situation; if you may, please.”
He was polite, although he didn’t have to be —the privilege of being a doctor: someone who saves lives. However, it was what helped dissipate some of Noor’s worry and calm down.
She started slowly, looking between the doctor and the boy. “He has always been like this, quiet and distant as if he’s looking at something far away. He has never cried,”
“—Not once?”
“No,” Noor answered, sad eyes fixed at her lovely child. “He never cried or laughed as a child should. We asked around of course, but everyone concluded that there was nothing wrong with him. However,” She looked up, at the doctor. “Today, for the first time in six months, he laughed. He looked so happy, flailing his arms around like he was trying to catch stars. I had goosebumps when I heard him giggling. But it didn’t take long for the giggles to turn into screams. I was right beside him and I couldn’t do anything.” She looked away, down at her shaking hands, and started rubbing them. “I— I was so afraid that I was going to lose him. I didn’t know what to do. I—”
The tall man lightly held her hands. Noor looked up and found him staring at her, into her eyes, and her fear melted away. “It’s alright, dear.” He spoke. “Everything is going to be fine.”
She nodded.
“Shall we get to it then?” The doctor asked, and the two nodded silently, worried but also expectant. The tall, burly man lowered Noor onto her rocking chair and stood beside her, keeping a hand on her shoulder, as the doctor walked toward the boy.
He put his bag on the parent’s bed and started checking the baby boy. He took the boy’s temperature, held his wrist and checked his pulse, and looked over his body for bruises among other things.
“No fever.” He diagnosed, speaking loudly so the two parents could hear. “His pulse is fast, though that could be from our attention. No bruises. His stomach feels fine. No head injuries, either. Alright,” the doctor turned toward the parents. “I need your permission to Examine him.”
The father flinched, as if afraid of the result. He deliberated declining the request but changed his mind when Noor tightened her grip on his hand. He found her looking at him. “We already discussed this.” She said. “There is no other choice.”
Inhaling loudly, he gritted his teeth and agreed to the doctor's request.
“Very well,” said the wiry man. “I assure you, the skill will not affect your son in any way whatsoever, and neither will I disclose the result to anyone other than you, the parents. It’s the doctrine. So you two don’t have to worry.”
Nodding, the doctor put his hand on the baby’s chest and calmly spoke one simple word: Examine.
If the father expected a blazing swarm of magical sigils to explode from the doctor’s hand, then he was to be disappointed. The doctor stood back upright after he had spoken, and started walking toward the two parents. He looked to be in a daze, but his darting eyes signified he was watching, or in this case, reading something that none other than he could see.
“Hmm…” he rubbed his shaved chin, considering things as he stopped in front of the rocking chair. Though the father worried for the worst, since the wiry man didn’t show any sign of concern, he didn’t interrupt him.
Noor was the first to break under the pressure. She sat straight. “What is it, doctor? Is there something wrong with my child?”
Her shrill voice caused the wiry man to stop mumbling. “Ha…” He looked away from the invisible slate of interest and at her expecting eyes; they were wet and trembling. He noticed how unusually white they were and how pale she was, but shook his head to concentrate on what was in front of him first.
“Say,” said he. “Have you ever tried to talk to your son before?”
This time it was their turn to frown.
“Since when did wee bit children start talking at the age of 6 months?” The father asked, angry and confused.
“I know it might sound odd,” reassured the doctor. “But there have been cases in the capital and around of smart children speaking words before their time. You must already know of those who start walking at age one or earlier, right?”
The child’s father tried to answer, but Noor interjected. “Of course!” She said, looked up at her husband, and patted the hand she was holding. “Raesh here took his first steps when he was but thirteen months old. I can’t count the number of times I have heard that story. My mother talked about it all the time. Right, dear?”
“Oh, yes, yes.” The tall man smiled at her and cryptically answered. Noor had already turned back to face the doctor and didn’t notice the worry in his eyes. He didn’t like how the conversation was unfolding.
“So, the boy talking shouldn’t come as a surprise.” The doctor ended with a whisper, looking over his shoulder at the boy. “Alright, here goes nothing.” Turning around, he approached the boy and bent over the crib to talk to him.
“Hey, little one, how are you feeling?” He spoke, but couldn’t make the boy look at him. He wasn’t done, though. “Why don’t you say something? Your parents would love to hear your voice.”
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The two parents stared at him curiously but were unable to make out the doctor's intentions. They believed the child would speak his first words, but the doctor seemed to have other ideas.
“What’s your name, child? I’m Dr. Wadadil.” the doctor said placing a hand on his chest, and to everyone’s astonishment, the boy supplied an answer.
“Mannat,” He spoke! The boy’s voice was low and crisp, like the tweet of a young bird. He spoke! But the amazing thing was that the boy had understood the man!
The doctor laughed, while Noor inquired in confusion. “How? When?” She darted to the floor beside the baby boy, took him into her arms, and started showering him with kisses. “You can speak? Oh, boy! Why did you stay quiet all this time? Do you understand how worried we were?” she asked in a frenzy but the boy stayed quiet as if he hadn’t the slightest clue as to his mother’s intentions.
She looked at him incredulously. “Say something, will you. Please, anything will do!”
“Anything?” The boy spoke in his tiny shrill voice, but the tilt of his head sent his mother into a laughing fit. She lifted him high and beamed her biggest smile at him. The baby boy smiled back, spreading his arms forward for a hug, which she gave.
The two men stepped aside as Noor took the boy to the bed to play with him.
The tall man, the boy’s father had some questions to ask and doubts to alleviate.
“This isn’t normal, Doctor.” He said as the boy’s laughter rang in the room.
“Stop it, Noor. Stop it!” The boy repeated over and over, giggling as his mother tickled his stomach.
“Call me mother or I won’t stop.” She insisted, laughing. She didn’t care that the boy was speaking. But the father was not pleased.
“I know. I had expectations, but hearing him speaking is still shocking. Did he never spoke to you before today?”
“No, Never. He’s always been so distant and quiet. So…”
“Focused?” The doctor filled, causing the man to grow defensive.
“What do you mean?”
“Here,” The doctor looked away from the tall-burly man for a second. “Let me show you.” He said waving his hand in the air, and a glowing translucent window of blue appeared in front of the boy’s father.
The tall man was taken back at first, but it was only a status screen, nothing he hadn’t seen before. However, the information that this one provided sure was new and shocking to him.
Name: Mannat (6 months)
Level: 0 (0/100 experience)
[Class: None] / [Job: None]
Mana: 3/60
Mana regeneration: 10/hour
Stamina: 1
Title: Child of Life
Strength: 0.4
Intelligence: 6
Perception: Low-Low
Dexterity: 0.3
Wisdom: 10
Endurance: Low-Low
Constitution: 0.3
Luck:
Willpower: Low-Medium
Skills:
Analyze(5), Focus(10), General Fitness(1), Mana Sense(1),
Ailments: Mental fatigue, Mana drain,
The father intently looked over the ethereal screen for a few moments and at the end, sighed.
“I had my doubts,” He spoke softly —at least he tried, but it was still louder than a whisper. “Since my Inspection never revealed the boy’s skills, I wasn’t able to figure out the reason behind his high mental stats—”
“The best inspection can do is to reveal the inspected target's stats— even at the maximum level.”
“Right…” The tall man looked away from the screen, letting it fade away into inexistence, and fixed his tranquil gaze at the pair on the bed. “So his Focus has reached the maximum level. God knows I have wondered if it was the cause of his quiet, distant look, but maximum level…” The father shook his head. “It’s a lot to take in.”
The doctor nodded. “I don’t doubt it.”
“I figure Analyze feeds purely into his Wisdom?”
“You know your skills.” The doctor praised, causing the man to shrug. “It does.” He added. “And it’s the first time I’m seeing the skill.” The father tried to speak, but the doctor raised a hand to stop him and continued. “Analyze, is the reason why your boy can speak like a teenager at his age. It allowed the boy to figure things out.” The doctor could see that the man still doubted, so he gave him a hint. “Examine focuses on the inside.” And he dropped the topic at that.
A silence grew between them, while the laughter kept echoing between the mother and the child.
It was the doctor who broke the quiet. “His wisdom was the first attribute to reach ten points. You know what that means, right?” He asked, but the tall man refrained from answering.
“He’ll remain of average strength all his life. I hope you won’t try to force your expectations upon him. He has a tough life ahead of him, don’t make it tougher for him.”
The boy’s father answered again with silence. The doctor understood, but there was nothing he could do about it either. However, that was a problem. The man was a blacksmith, and the reason he wanted a boy was to pass his job to him. One needed at least ten points in strength to earn the job, among other things. And the doctor was saying that he might never reach that point.
We’ll see about that. The burly man mumbled under his breath.
“As for the reason behind his headaches—” the doctor had only started speaking when suddenly, the boy started wailing. No matter how Noor tried to help him she couldn’t do a thing.
“Doctor, do something!” She screamed over her shoulder. The wiry man was already in action. He hurried to her side and kneeled over the bed.
“Keep a hold of him.” He ordered and went to his bag, while the two parents tried to protect the child from himself. He unfastened the bag’s belt buckle and swung the top open. Inside were many glass vials with clear or muddy liquids, some hardcover books with yellow, cracked pages, a large syringe with a thick steel needle at the end, vials with powders, a case for needle and thread, cotton, bandages, and a thick brown bottle with chloroform stenciled over a white strip of paper in the middle.
He pulled the bottle of chloroform and warned the two parents to hold their breaths. He didn’t explain further before tilting the bottle forward and pulling the glass cork out of the nozzle. It opened with a pop and he brought the opening under the nose of the crying child. Noor cringed back at first and then tried to get her child away from the doctor. Her burly husband held her shoulder and stared at her firmly when she pleaded with crying eyes.
She tried resisting, but he was strong and she couldn’t get out of his grip. She thought of resisting harder, however, the doctor’s voice sounded in her ears and she stopped.
“You can let go now.” The doctor said, and she realized the boy was no longer crying. She looked and found him sleeping snug over the white bed sheet, holding her index finger in one of his tiny pink hands. She started at him with a motherly gaze, but Raesh had questions for the doctor.
“What did you do?” He asked the doctor who had just corked the brown bottle shut.
“Nothing in particular,” The doctor answered, putting the bottle back in its place in the bag. “I simply immobilized the boy for the time being—” He found the two parents staring at him incredulously, and grunted under his breath —a wrong choice of words.
He shook his hands. “It’s nothing serious. I only put him to sleep.” A toothy grin put the two at ease but only for a moment. It was time to tell them the reason behind the boy’s condition, and he knew they had a rough time ahead of them.
“Why don’t you put him on the bed and I’ll tell you the cause of the seizures.”
“Seizures?” Noor grew attentive.
“Yes.” The doctor answered patiently. He didn’t say anything at this point and started packing his bag instead. Picking it up, he asked them to sit down. Noor tried protesting, but Raesh shook his head and she faltered. Tucking her child in a warm blanket, she lowered him back in his crib and then took a seat beside her husband, who interlocked his fingers with her and the doctor started speaking.
“First of all, your boy’s seizures are the side effect of a mental state called mana drain.” The doctor took a pause to see if the two had any questions. Noor was fidgety, but remained quiet, while Raesh was already starting to realize what was happening. So he continued. ”You must know what mana is right?”
“Yes,” Noor affirmed hastily and settled the discussion.
Raesh tightened his grip around her hand, which helped her find bearing. It was easy for a parent to grow emotional, but they needed to be calm to understand the full extent of their boy’s condition and that’s what he was doing. The doctor was only asking to confirm, but he decided to explain anyway.
“Mana unlike fire and water is a force, both invisible and intangible. There are some people who disagree with the last part, but we are not to worry about that. What you should remember is that mana is the blood of the mind. One starts feeling queasy and mentally exhausted when low on mana; a few even grow headaches and others faint outright.”
The doctor paused again to let it sink in, but found himself growing restless by the tapping of Noor’s feet.
“What I’m saying is that your son’s seizures are the result of this mana drained effect. To say it in simple words: he cries whenever he’s low on mana. It takes him a total of six hours to regenerate the mana, but since his new skill —Mana Sense— keeps passively draining it, he keeps suffering from the side effect.”
“I don’t understand? I have never heard about such a skill?” Noor asked. Raesh sat quietly beside her with his ears and mind both open.
“Madam, your son’s wisdom has reached 10 points and he has acquired a new skill because of that; something called Mana sense.”
“What?” Noor barked out loud, surprised, and fearful.
The doctor continued. “The system must have chosen the best available skill for him when he didn’t make a choice. Any questions?”
“So, you are saying that there is nothing wrong with him?” Rash finally spoke.
“Yes,” the doctor said conclusively. “He’s completely fine. It’s like muscle cramps,”
“A muscle cramp?” Noor snorted, and as a result, she was given the silent treatment.
“With time his mana capacity will grow and he will become better at resisting the side effects. It won’t take long for him to reach the point of equilibrium.”
Everything the doctor said told Noor to stop worrying, however, he was also saying that there was nothing they could do to help the boy, and that scared her.
The doctor watched the two parents lost in thoughts and sighed. “I know you both fear that it was his wisdom that reached ten points first, but times have changed. People with high wisdom are no longer shunned by the masses for their physical inabilities. There is even an academy in construction in the royal capital to support such children. Your boy will not have a problem because of his condition.” He noticed that the mother was still not convinced, but this was the best he could do. Or maybe, “Just so you know the doctor’s association is always in need of new recruits.” The mother looked at him with glittering eyes, but the father's glare put the doctor’s thoughts to rest.
“What about his migraines?” The doctor heard and found Noor staring at his bag. He tightened his grip on the handle in return. Clearing his throat, he gave out a warning to the mother who seemed to be having some thoughts of her own.
“I advise you to not do anything harsh, madam.” He said plainly, but with a stern tone. “A child’s mind is a delicate thing. You might think you are helping him by putting him to sleep, but prolonged use of anything of such manner can be severely dangerous to even a healthy man, while your boy is just a child. You might end up stinting his mental growth. Although, it might grind on your nerves to hear your beloved child crying in pain, think of it as a necessity. He’ll need your utmost attention. You both have some rough times ahead of you, but the worst of it will pass in time. You can think of it as growing pains. Children cry all the time. His mana capacity is truly something, however.” Finally, the doctor smiled. “You have given birth to a very special child, madam. Take care of him. It’s not every day that a child is born with a skill feeding purely into wisdom.”
The doctor nodded to Raesh, who stood up and walked with him. He stopped at the door and looked back. “The Child of life, I believe he has a bright future ahead of him.”
The doctor turned around before Noor could respond and walked out the door.