This voice belongs to someone Gonten has cared for deeply and misses so much after it has been 12 years since the last time, he had the chance to lay eyes. At times he had doubted himself to even hold what she would look like after such time had passed from that night.
“Mom… is that you,” Gonten asks the question even when looking at the clear life image of his mother looking back at him with a wondering expression about the look of shock on his face.
“Huh? What are you talking about, Gonten? Can’t you see me standing right in front of you, boy? Is something wrong with your head?”
Gonten couldn’t say a word when caught trapped in his throat because of the overwhelming feeling of joy to be seeing his mother, Beia, again.
There was no helping when he couldn’t fight back by not running towards his mother and hugging the woman as tight as he was willing to not let her go.
“Whoa there, kiddo, what's going on with this way of hugging me like this? I’m not going anywhere, Gonten should. Could you ease up on hugging their son?” Beia tells him but doesn’t seem to mind it that much.
“I just miss you so much after that night of our village being attacked by the humans, I couldn’t be there to help you and our people because of how young I was at the time and had to be forced into leaving with those who had to. I’m glad that it all is not real and that I was just daydreaming about something horrible.”
“What are you talking about? Sounds like something to be a nightmare, and yet… all that happens, son.”
“What?” Gonten looked up to Mother to see her smiling at him after saying such a thing.
Something in the air began to go all so wrong in just a short time where the sun of the pure rays of light turned into the abyss of darkness. Not only has the sky gone dark, but the village has also gone into a great change, now looking to be ruined and filled with the lifeless bodies of the were-tiger people from the very same village.
Gonten removed himself from his mother, moving a step or two away from her to look at this traumatic scene before his eyes. Looking at this up closely is not the same as before watching from the distance to only catch the sight of the darkening smoke going up into the air.
Seeing it from a closer point of view is even worse as Gonten would rather wish to go back from looking from the distance than like this.
“Mother… this can’t be real… this can’t be real… why must it be real.” Gonten couldn’t control his voice from breaking because of what his eyes could not look away from.
“But it is my son, this is the reality of what has happened to our village, the same to our kingdom and lands.”
Gonten looks back to his mother, catching her eyes has a change of its own, shining in a bright orange-golden-like light that soon blinded him like a blast to unsee for a few seconds till again Gonten can.
What has changed again is him at a still open area, but from a distance lies a great kingdom going into ruin by the blaming flames, and its smoke was seen to be young and yet undying along Gonten form into his younger self back into his present form.
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“What place is this I see to be ruined? This isn’t something I hold to memory.” Gonten says being confused and yet concerned to see is the same as his village
“This is the home you were unable to witness in its glory form before the invasion.”
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“Seems the boy is dealing with a dream that is being unkind to him,” Xyma says, smoking that wooden pipe made from one of three wounds used as their hunting ground with the right leaves to give some good high and relaxation to the body and mind.
It has been only about an hour since this woman, her daughter, and the girl named Zely have been doing good at just sitting and waiting inside the healing hut while they watch over.
Xyma offers this wooden pip to one of the girls; Zely declines it because she feels it isn’t the best time to be smoking, not that she minds the woman doing so. Mona, on the other hand, accepts the pip and inhales the smoke into the lungs for a minute to unleash the same smoke out into the air.
Zely ignored and smacked away some of the smoke that was near her coming out of that person sitting closely at the side.
“That, my girl, Zely, you sure you don't want to have a nice hit? It is good to help your mind find that ease. I can tell that you are still having trouble relaxing here even if it is clear that Gonten is to be in no danger and now at a peaceful rest.” Xyma says received back the wooden pipe from her daughter after taking another hit.
“I don’t know; Xyma herself doesn't feel in the mood for that, much less even try it.”
“Maybe it is for the best that you take a nice walk outside or, for that matter, go to your hut and leave me and my mother alone to do our job as healers who are much better too.”
Mona says to Zely in a normal tone, hiding the real tone she wants to show to her, but doesn’t go right away to start fighting with the girl.
“What do you mean by that Mona got something you want to say to me.” Zely talks back to her normally but doesn’t do a good job of containing a bit of anger.
“Would it matter to hear what I have to say as you're just going to let it enter one ear and outer the other?”
“Do you want you to have a go at each other right now? Cause I don’t mind getting into a fight with you here and now.”
“Girls no fighting in my hut, you want to throw fists at each other's faces. Do that outside the hut being a place for rest and healing. Not a place for bawls to happen like an underground holding illegal fights.”
Xyma, the healer, smokes another hit from the wood, a little worried about these girls having the same feeling of a crash on Gonten. The woman wishes for them to find common ground with each other or to settle the matter one day soon before this matter turns quite bad for both.
There, for the moment, a sound of one making the moaning sounds of one waking while still feeling pain all over their body.
“Ah, it seems our other guest is starting to get up, though he was going to be sleeping more, I guess he did not need more,” Xyma says, a little surprised about it.
The barbarian whom Gonten was having a short chat with before the person passed out was brought to this were-tiger village for healing, and rest was starting to get up.
“Where… am I.” is what he said, slowly rising into a sit-up position, still dealing with the time of having to get his eyes used to seeing very clearly.
When they have, he finds three human-like females with ears and a Tail feature like that of an animal of a beast known as a tiger. To this barbarian, his people long-lived for generations on these lands of the mountain in their tribes but always kept knowledge about other beings of different races out there roaming the same world.
Among them is a race that looks to be a mix of two, humans and beasts, something the barbarians believe they are beings of the spirit animals. Bless animals able to transform into this kind of form to still have parts of them shown or that humans gifted with the ability inherit that of their animal spirits that has been with them or comes to that person when chosen.
There was another theory that barbarian people will come to think about how a breed is this born being like that of a curse between a union which should not have been.
One of the females looks at him with guard up and ready to attack if the barbarian were to make the wrong move, while the other two look to be calm and not on guard. No words have been said as they look at each other for the mare seconds, but for the moment he has come to realize his wounds were treated.
“You are people of the blood of beast, aren’t you the ones known to us as spirit walkers? I also have noticed my wounds have been taken under your care, and I thank you for that.” The barbarian says, bowing his head a little toward them.
“HA! Spirit walker, you call us that something; we are also called beast man, demi-human, or at the less kind title, an abomination from the human's point of view and for your wounds. Speaking truthfully, I would not use these hands to save your life, being a mortal and all, but it was the wish of the leader, and So I obey.”
“I see still, you have my gratitude either way. I would have met my end with such wounds after that ambush…” it hits the man, remembering getting attacked and not him alone. There were others that he helped to get away when staying behind to fight and give time.
He tries to get up completely and run out of the hut, but just that single second of doing so, the pain keeps him in place as the man falls forward to catch himself from face smacking into the floor.
“Sadly, that body of yours is not ready to be moving so impatiently barbarian.”