WILL

I am troubled. It’s been five years since I was thrown in the land of Aovis by the self-acclaimed god named ‘Error’ and everything seems to be less than what you call fine.

I was born from a family whose farming was the job and we live at the far end of the Unoua region where the fields are. Every day, my father- Hugh was his name- would awaken at the dawn of the day and prepare my breakfast. Not long after I wake, my mother- Anna - would then arise and wake me up to help with the house chores. I remember one time when I was three turns old I asked,

“Why do I need to wake up so early?”  While yawning and stretching my very sore arm after sleeping on it.

 She wide-eyed gaped at me. It wasn’t that much of an achievement. I mean, since I was at the age of one, I teased them with only bits and parts of a whole sentence to fulfill my role as a growing child trying to speak the language. They were shocked to learn of it. Apparently, the glitchy ‘Error’ god took pity of me (And I hate him for that. I need no sympathy Mr. Error) and granted me the gift of the tongues. Now, I won’t grow up struggling in learning languages to communicate.

Still, I wanted to learn the language myself. It would’ve been nice to know of it little by little rather than just knowing it instantaneously… Convenient though.

“It is, necessary young one.” And with that, I was sent off.

I sat down on the sofa and stared at the tapestry hanging inside the house just in front of me. It was an image of absolute randomness. There were different shades clashing at each other, some drowning the faint colors, others standing out. A mélange of colors to be exact. In the middle of the chaotic color-war, there was a tiny sapling. I quite didn’t get the meaning of it, but it reminded me of my birth. I didn’t really know why, but for some bizarre reason, it did. I can still remember it as fresh as a newly plucked apple.  

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It was the third an of the second mon (an for the word ‘day’, mon for months and turn for ‘year’). The winds blew hard enough to make some trees around their humble home sway violently, and disturbing peaceful critters at their sleep.

A woman, about the age of an adult, with long wavy hair like an ocean dyed black and eyes of shining green was resting on her bed with a woven blanket to shield herself from the elements. She was sweating bullets as she gripped the hand of the man beside her. This man, was no stranger. He was her spouse. He had a hair of black, spiky but only just a bit. Eyes of blue, with a wee bit of gray. He wore clothes of that of a farmer and he looked utterly concerned for his struggling wife. A hired woman was just at the rear of the bed encouraging the poor woman to exert more effort. She was between the age of post-adolescence and adulthood. She already has a faded hair of green but she still helped all those women who were in need of delivery for a newborn.

“Ma’am you can do it!” sounding a bit drained.

With more effort, the woman poured all her strength and was rewarded greatly.

A child was born.

A boy of white hair and black eyes.

As the hired woman carried the child, she wore a difficult expression. She managed to smile for the betterment of the situation but she couldn’t help but be concerned for the babe.

“Thy caretaker pronounces this day the birth of thine child. Shouldest thou giveth this boy a name, let it be given with a blessing from the gods.” The woman offered the boy to his father and the man took it.

He eyed the baby with great concern and anxiously peeked at his wife.

“What is it?” asked the wife.

“He has white hair.”

The air stilled in the room and an unseen tension rose. The woman stopped breathing for a moment and tried to calm herself. The words still ringing in her ears. He has white hair.

“Nobody in this room shall speak of this. Tell the people around these parts, his hair had been dyed.”

“But-“the man tried to reason only to get interrupted by the hired woman.

“Madam, it is not advisable to lie of your neighbors of this matter. Should they find about the truth that lies within, and your job will be taken from you. No man shall trust you again let alone buy from you.” She stated matter-of-factly.

No one in the room knew what to do nor did they know about what the boy was thinking.

“I can’t believe I actually got reincarnated.” He thought, sounding half fretful, half confused. Shortly after, he couldn’t control his emotions anymore and started wailing from the top of his lungs.

The tension began sinking again as the boy, in the arms of his loving father, cried out for food. The mother began to smile and ended the argument with a satisfied expression and a statement.

“Let him live his life. Just don’t let him know about this.”

He did. (I did)

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I didn’t understand what’s with my hair back then but when I went outside one morning, I found out what was wrong with it.

I was strolling around the neighborhood at the time of the day when everyone would be doing their chores. Some were outside their houses trimming bushes unknown to me and tendering their lovely gardens. I also saw a few of them washing the dishes, wiping the windows and basically cleaning their houses. I wasn’t intentionally watching them-Oh no! I wouldn’t do that! I do not care about them anyway.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

As I walked down the path, I spotted three boys approaching me. The one in the middle was waving his hand. My first thought seeing them was spelled T-r-o-u-b-l-e.

“Oi!” called the boy taller than me who walked with his buddies.

“Hmm?”

“So you’re the cripple my mom talked about.” He said while stopping at his tracks and inspecting his newfound kid to ‘play with’. I did not appreciate his interest.

“Said you’ve got no magics. Do you have some you cripple?” The boy pushed me lightly but l almost stumbled. With a grin and some encouragement from his buds, he went on again.

“Oi I’m talkin’ to you. Have you got no ears?”

I obviously replied nothing. I stared at the boys who were considered ‘bullies’ by some kids talking to themselves. I managed to eavesdrop in their conversation just the other day. I was sure ‘Error’ said I’ll now live a wonderful life but no, wonderful problems were still included.

What the boys looked like was this: The one who shove me lightly was a tall boy with ginger hair and eyes painted with the color of the sea. A lean structure and tanned skin was what defined him a superior bully. The one next to him was shorter and chubbier. With his shaggy brown hair and sharp eyes, he looked like he was about to kill a pig or perhaps- pardon my cussing but- he was the pig. The last one at his right was more ‘nerdy’ in terms of appearance. He had a scrawny structure and freckles on his face and with an installment of some books and a glass, he’ll be officially one. But appearances can be deceiving.

“I see.” I replied at last, nodding weakly and slowly. Emphasizing the way I did it. I suppose I should show some submissiveness to them for safety purposes.

“So you were the bullies they were talking about.” I sighed. “I must say I have to go now as I still have some things to attend. But first, may I ask why am I called a cripple?” I tilted my head to act like an adorable kid hungry for information, but as I asked, laughter erupted from the three.

“W-what do you mean? You don’t know of your white hair?” pointed out by the rotund kid while trying to suppress his annoying laugh. What a weirdo.

“What about it?”

The three stopped from laughing and stared at me as if I should know the answer. One kid from the three explained it while grinning and planning to make fun of my ignorance.

“Oh you poor illiterate boy, this one shall enlighten you.” He said as he stood more dignified and dumber. Yes, dumber. He puffed his chest out and planted his knuckles on his hips.

“In our world we have magics.” He moved his fingers and hands like a stupid would do. ”These are measured by the color of the hair,” The kid stated while pointing at his faded blue hair. “And I am with the affinity of the Hydro. I can control the waters.”

Before he spoke again, the flabby butted in and pointed his hair with both of his hands. “A child of the ‘Eartheners’! An ‘Erda’ affinity!” the nerdy got irritated but he kept on explaining.

“And our leader here,” He pointed then acted like a servant of the kid in the middle. “Is of the affinity of the ‘Pyro’.” The kid nodded as if to state it was correct, in which it was.

“Then, I am certain that I, am with the affinity of the winds” I said.

I used to read about books of fantasy and I picked up each of its pattern. There will always be the big four elements. The fire, which was Pyro, the water which was Hydro, the Earth, Erda, and the winds-

“You mean Anemos?” The kid asked, then he stifled a giggle. “The affinity of the Anemos or Ventus is only possessed by green-haired ones. You have white, which is none of the elements. Maybe we should call him ‘nil the cripple’ now.” The nerdy offered to the other two while leaving Will to his business.

“Nope. I-“the leader started, only to be disrupted by the sudden parting words of myself.

“I am sorry but I have issues to take care of.” That was actually the truth. “Thank you for the knowledge.” That was partly true. I curtsied and spoke once again. “Goodbye ya’ll.” Then, I ran at full speed and turned at the corner of the street far from their sight.

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“What does issues mean?” The plump boy asked.

“It means you need to read more stupid” The nerdy guy replied.

The kid, which was eight turns old, who was also the leader, was contemplating. He never heard from his mom that the cripple was gifted of the tongue.

“What is he? Ten turns? He talked like one.” He remarked. He was sure he talked like a ten-turn kid but he looked like he was only five turns. He reconsidered his choices. Should he annoy him more? Or befriend him?

He heaved a sigh.

It was such a loss of a member if only he did not possessed such weak magic affinity or none at all.

“We better teach him a lesson next time.” Nerd guy said.

The two nodded and went their way.

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I shake my head as I tried to forget about that experience and I once again, stared at the tapestry.

“Must be nice to have someone you can trust.”

I stood up and paced around the room.

What to do?

I already knew what my problem was all about, and I couldn’t tell if it was really true. Sure, I’m already living a wonderful life in this world but something was missing. Something I should have that others also have.

While thinking about it, the door to the right swung open which revealed a man. He wore a shirt washed with sweat and a farmer’s hat. The farmer who just came back from the field was also holding a sickle. He sauntered at the far end of the room and placed the tool in a chest. He turned around seeing his son (me) at the middle of the room. It was my dad.

“Hey kiddo.” He came up to me and bent down. Meeting his eyes was still the scariest experience ever. Ever since I was born, I tried to avoid those gray-blue eyes. It was like an abyss. It scared me if those eyes can penetrate my soul and unearth my big secrets. In which they can’t.

“You seem troubled. What is it?” He messed with my hair and smiled.

 “Why-“, I stopped himself. Was it safe if I tell them I knew? It’s been five turns and neither of them ever mentioned about my hair, about my magics affinity.

Thinking about it, I decided to tell him since their reason was fine. They tried to protect their son from a shocking revelation of not-having-magics which pretty much was the criteria that decided one’s social standing. Well, they failed.

But it’d be better to hear it from them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What didn’t I tell you?”

“My hair, Hugh. My hair.”

My father, Hugh, was stunned. I think he never thought that his son would ever call him that. Well, they didn’t particularly enforced me to call them father and mother. They just assumed I will call them those since others do. I was different. Even more, I knew about my affinity.

Why was it a big deal anyway?

I knew little about magics, because my father has one. Though, his was just miniscule but he can still summon a bucket of water which he used for watering the plants. But because of this, he only acquired the field job.

In Aovis, magics is everything.

No one had nil magics affinity. Everyone has.

Except for their child.

“My son I-… We thought it’d be better if you didn’t know.” He admitted. Kneeling down to get a comfortable position. He put his hands on my shoulders.

“Well, It wasn’t. I grew up not knowing my problem. Was that your goal?” I asked, removing his hands from my shoulders and crossing my arms.

I looked straight at him as if to challenge a duel and saw him wearing a grim expression.

“No! We would never Will. Your mom and I decided we won’t tell so it won’t bother you.”

“It’s the same.”

“No-“Hugh stopped.

Silence filled the room as our voices halted. Our two bodies still, like statues of old.

“So I was right.” I concluded.

I let out a sigh. It would’ve been better for me if I just didn’t ask. My father’s response was the obvious answer to my doubting. It troubled me that of all people to have no magics affinity, I was the one to have none at all. Great.

“Are you angry?” Hugh broke my train of thought.

“Maybe I am.” Or maybe am not. I can’t blame him for that anyway. It’s not his fault his offspring turned out like me. I mean, who’s to blame? 

And with that I left the room.

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It was the thirty-fifth an of the sixth mon of the turn.

And I gained a brother.