”Could you tell me the story of the two giants again?” The child's eyes were lit with an orange spark of hope.

“Of course, son” answered a man.

The spark of hope grew, as the colour red mixed with yellow sparked in the child’s eyes. The man always found his son’s eyes too fascinating. Even though they were meant to be blue, he always seemed to experience every emotion his son felt, simply by looking into them. Joen, his wife, used to say that this was just the magic of a child. However, fascinating it may be, the man had grave suspicions against this phenomenon. Pushing these thoughts away, the man sat down on a wooden chair next to the child’s bed. Shadows were dancing on the wall, as the flickering candle struggled to keep the fire burning.

And so, he began.

- “Not long ago, we humans lived among trees. We were intelligent animals, could communicate like you and me. However, we weren’t many in numbers. Our lack of knowledge made us primitive. We did not know how to use the land, to sow seeds and proceed to reap harvest. We didn’t know how to craft tools, to build a house or bend metal. In fact, we did not even know what metal was!”

“We were so stupid” said the child, with a playful tone as he simultaneously jumped out of bed. To which the man answered, “Not stupid, we simply did not have the knowledge. We humans are capable of adapting; we inherit new traits from experience or observations. Those adaptions are embedded into our souls and passed onto our children.”

The man laughed as he pushed his child back into bed, covering him with a tattered blanket.

“Well, I guess you could say that at the time, we were stupid”. Then he continued.

“As we humans kept struggling, gathering food for the day, trying to survive until the next, two brother giants were watching over us. The two giants have great knowledge. More than we humans could possibly imagine!”

The man paused.

“Are you sure you want to hear this story again?” The man yawned and rubbed his brown tired eyes as he pushed the red rug towards the bed with his legs and stretched out his body.

“Yes! You know it’s my favorite!” The child replied, with a new, brighter, red light of desire growing in his eyes, and the father thought for himself, that it doesn’t hurt to educate his child, as this story was more in the like of retelling history rather than fantasy.

He should add a few details he always left out, he told himself.

“One day, the younger of the two giants decided to share some of his knowledge with the humans. He went at night, to a tree in which a human was sleeping. He pulled out a pouch filled with orange mixed with red powder, emptied some of the content into his palm and carefully applied the powder onto the human’s forehead. This human woke up in panic, but quickly calmed down. It was known to all men that the two giants were friendly, and so this human felt blessed that he was given the honour to meet one of them in person. Curious of what this powder was for, the human accepted the powder as a blessing. This powder contained a substance which enhanced the human brains’ abilities, allowing the human to learn new things with haste!"

"Then the giant proceeded to teach the human a new, mysterious language. This language was not spoken, but written, with symbols that didn’t hold much meaning alone, but together could be used to pass on endless of information. It didn’t take much time for the human to realize the connection between the written language and the spoken language. With this realization, reading was easier. After having mastered this written language, the giant gave the human a mission to teach others how to use this language and tell the them to do the same. This was the story of how we humans came to form a more social and collaborative way of living. When the giant felt that enough people knew how to read, the giant began pushing down trees from the roots, using a tool now known as an axe, and later proceeded to transform the trees into planks. He used a pickaxe to form stone into blocks and began building what we know as The Great Library.”

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Filled with positive emotions and a large smile on his face, the child pushed his face into a pillow to hide how happy he was to hear his favourite part, the part with The Great Library.

Then the child said.

“Imagine how it must have felt for the first humans to see the construction of The Great Library. They probably didn’t even know what a building was!”

"You are completely right my child", the man answered.

"After having finished building The Great Library, the younger giant brother began writing books, each explaining how to make different things, how nature works, how to use the earth for making more food, build safer areas for humans to stay in. Each book was sorted into categories, making it easier to select which information one wanted to acquire. With this knowledge, humans didn’t have to live in forests any longer, sleeping in trees. Now, humans were clever. They realized there was too much information, too many things to be done, for one human to learn it all. So, they divided into groups, each group focusing on different things. Quickly, tools were crafted, trees were cut down, and fire was made. Houses built; wells dug deep enough to reach water reservoirs underground. Villages formed; safer houses built. The earth was used, fields formed. Fruit trees planted, and berry bushes moved.” 

Then he concluded.

“And that is the story of the two giants”.

The child was already sleeping, yet the father remained next to the child’s bed. There was something he needed to find out. His mother said that his eyes were simply the eyes of a child, but no other child has eyes that changes colours. And why was he so affected by every emotion his child seemed to have?

Surely this was not a matter of high empathy level. These thoughts had been endlessly swirling around his mind lately. He never bothered while his wife was alive.

She simply said, “It will be all right, so leave it to higher powers. All you need to do is to love him”.

His wife used to be very spiritual, believing in all sorts of folklore such as magic stones, healing abilities, Gods and Demons.

He on the other hand was a scientist, as the Wise Giant called it in his books. The father never believed in those stories of special gifts, other races. Even magic had felt like there might be logical explanations to it. So, he had devoted his youth to study these phenomena.

He had heard stories of a person swinging fireballs at wildebeest, so he traversed through the vast Savannahs in the search of the stories’ origin. He met a group of people, who knew the person, but they did not know of the person’s whereabouts, nor could they prove that magic had been used. For all he knew, this person might be an inventor with new technology. Some sort of new weapon, something that allowed a person to hurl an object set ablaze towards the enemy. Probably drenched in naturally formed liquids some of the trees contain. He never found any proof of magic, or any other similar explanation.

He only found eyewitnesses. However, he managed to build a prototype functioning as a small fire hurler. A ball, not larger than a man’s fist, that could travel up to thirty metres.

Far from killing a wildebeest, it could make a small dent on a wooden door, with flame not hot enough to set it on fire. Reaching his thirties, the man felt depressed, losing reason to continue. He was losing his will to live.

Then, he met a woman, deeply involved with what she called the spirits. Madly in love, he decided to put away his pursuit and settle down in a village with this woman. They were happy, teaching one another how to respect and value each other’s worldview. Not long after they met, they had a child, a beautiful boy with blue eyes and dark hair. She named their son Mercury. Mercury Tempest, family name after the father, Pete Tempest, though they always called him Cury.

Cury’s mother was blonde, and Pete himself had brown hair. They were each other’s differences, in a good way. Looking back, Pete felt like it was all a hazy dream. He didn’t think much at the time, barely used his brain actually. But he was happy, that he knew. Years went by, and Cury grew to be nine years old.

That’s when the love of his life suddenly died.