Miko:

I sat outside and enjoyed the garden and watched Maleki work up a sweat while he worked the fields. A thought intruded into my head that I tried to push away, but it had already rooted itself too deep. “Why wasn’t it Maleki that was sick? Why was it just me? Why are you sitting here, unable to move in any significant way, while your brother walks so freely?” They were selfish thoughts devoid of logic or reason, but they still broke through my stoic outlook on life all the same. In my heart, I was glad it was me and not him, but part of me, the part without a voice, did wonder why it was me who was born with the illness and not him.

Those thoughts fleeted away as dinner was called for. I raced Maleki inside, not that he knew it was a race and I had a huge head start, but a win every now and made me feel better.

Grandmother was still setting the table when I walked into the room. The table sat six, with Grandpa on the short side, Grandmother at his right, and Maleki’s seat at his left. I found my seat next to Grandmother and swung the heel of my foot behind one of the chair’s back legs so I could sit down and use my shoulder to even it out. When the last plate was set at the table, Grandmother Kecila sat beside me and spoke softly with a warm smile, “I tried to pick items that would be easier for you to eat today.”

Maleki joked across the table slyly, “I could feed you if you’d like.”

“Let me have some dignity,” I responded with the attitude of a royal.

I then dropped my head onto my plate and ate much like a pig. It was not at all proper and was probably even more of a loss of dignity, but everyone already does so much for me. I can at least feed myself. My plate was covered in slices of meat and smaller fruits from the bushes in the garden, so they were easier to grab and eat without having to manage smaller pieces.

In our family, it is uncommon to carry on a conversation at dinner. The house’s unspoken rule is to finish your food before talking. It’s always been this way, which I guess we continued by watching our parents and grandparents interact. Maleki and I followed this impatiently until everyone’s plates were mostly cleaned, as conversation often carried over cleaning the table and our dinnerware.

I couldn’t partake in the cleaning since, you know, my arms were utterly useless, but Maleki took my plate and joined himself near the tub where Grandma was cleaning the cookware. She smiled at his attempt to help. “I can handle these, or are you ready to tell us what’s on your minds?”

Maleki’s eyes met mine with a face of betrayal. He must’ve thought I told her something already. I shook my head to deny his visual accusation before speaking to her, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

She laughed and set one of her dishes down so she could turn around and look us both in the eyes. “I’ve been doing this much longer than you both, and I know when something’s amiss.” She looked over at Grandpa Thaumus, who had one leg crossed high above the other with a cup of tea and a book from his collection. He had his thin pair of glasses that sat low on his cheekbone while his head was raised high to read the words that filled the pages of a book he never let me read named “Geo-Farming.”

He looked up from his book, feeling the looming eyes of his wife.

Grandmother continued to speak, “You both know we are here for you and support whatever it is you need. So, what is it you two have planned?”

Maleki looked at me and smiled. They really did understand us and cared for us more than anyone had been able to. Their love had been more than enough to keep us going. I kept it straightforward to avoid the assumptions we had made. “We need to go to Quavoris.”

Grandpa Thaumas raised a long-haired eyebrow and spoke with confusion, “What’s there?”

“A person,” Maleki responded.

“A guide,” I added unsurely. We think there is someone in Quavoris who can lead us to a place capable of healing me.”

Our Grandparents’ eyes met and lingered as if they were having a conversation of their own that did not require words. Grandmother spoke apprehensively, “I presume your Grandfather’s old friend gave you this brave idea?”

I responded quickly with a prepared response, “Yes, he gave us an old parchment that had a map and a riddle. We believe we can solve it, and I have a plan.”

Stolen novel; please report.

Maleki looked at me dissapointedly with his arms crossed, and I corrected myself. “We. We have a plan.”

Grandpa spoke with even more apprehension, “William is a great man, but he’s always been very imaginative. Boys, I don’t want you chasing a hopeful story. I remember what happened with dear Theresa, and our hearts poured out for them….” He paused before finishing and looked to our grandmother for confidence, “…but not everything can be fixed. Blades can be reforged, and amour can be bent back into shape, but people — we aren’t as malleable — aren’t as fixable. It takes courage to know what we can and can’t change.”

Maleki responded first after the silence. “All we have left are our hopes. Potions, medicine, and healers. We tried it all…

The tension had risen considerably and was noticeable by Grandmother Kecila’s expression. She responded after the silence that was left between Grandpa and Maleki. “We do care about you both, but we do worry. There’s so much out there that you have yet to experience; reading in a book is one thing, but you haven’t had the exposure other kids have, and Quavoris is a different, far-away place for two boys who haven’t ever left their family homestead.

Maleki was less abrupt this time but still held firm to his beliefs, “The luxury of hoping this will pass or be cured by chance has long since passed. We have to do this….” He rubbed his forearm against his eyes to wipe away the tears before they started. “I can’t continue to watch him wither away.”

Grandma pulled him in close. His light brown hair that peaked up was all that was visible as he stopped himself from crying into her arms.

A tear fell from her eyes, “I know, son, but this isn’t your journey alone.” She looked at me and spoke again, “Miko, there are always risks, and we won’t be there to help you. Are you sure this is what you want?”

I thought for a moment and considered what she was saying. I remembered what it was like to be able to play with Maleki like a normal kid, but I was getting left behind, and I couldn’t keep up much longer with this pace. I wanted to get better. I needed to. “I need this. Whether we find a cure or not, I need to know we tried.”

“Well, then, we trust and believe in you both, but it’s only natural for us to worry. The world out there, there aren’t many prepared for it, but I had hoped we could change that for you. Selfish desires, I suppose.” She snapped her fingers in a moment of realization, “Thaumy, I think it’s about time you give the boys their heirlooms.” Her wink traveled into Grandpa’s expression as if he, too, had the realization.

“We can’t be there with you, but we can give you something to help ease the journey,” Grandpa said as his expression lightened up.

We followed Grandpa Thaumus outside and headed to his shop. The sun was setting, which shone onto the Astral Rings with a brilliant hue and provided enough light to see around without a torch.

Grandpa led us to the back of the shop in a room where he stored his materials and tools. He flipped open a wooden box and pulled out two bags fitted as packs to be carried for travel. “There’s one for each of you. These used to belong to Kecila and me, but we don’t travel too far anymore, so they’re not of much use to us at this point.”

Grandpa continued after pulling out a brown leather cloth wrapped around a circular shape. “Be careful with this one; these aren’t like your wooden toys.” He moved as if to hand it to me before realizing that my arms weren’t working, and then laced them on the bench next to us. Then, he reached into a second chest and grabbed a pole from the middle of its length, which then extended from the bottom. It was now easily as tall as him, and he had an entire foot above our shoulders.

He spun it downwards so that the object was horizontal with his body and Maleki’s. My older brother just stared intently.

“It’s yours,” Grandpa said.

Maleki’s hand reached out and grabbed between Grandpa’s, and the weight of it shifted downwards, allowing the leather cloth on the top to slide off, revealing a semi-crescent blade that glimmered a beautiful white.

“A scythe?” Maleki asked.

Grandpa smiled and let out a short laugh. “Yes, but none like the ones we use for the harvest and upkeep.”

He was right. The shape was slightly askew rather than perfectly straight, and no grip protruded down the middle of the shaft like an ordinary one. There was also another small shape on the other side of the crescent that looked more like the blade of an axe.

“I never planned to give you these so early, but I would feel better if you had them with you out there.” He looked at us both once before continuing, “I can’t tell you how to wield them, but if you respect them as you would a steed, they will protect you.”

I let Maleki inspect his gift, and then he sat his to the side to help me with mine. I waited for him to set the pack near my feet, and watched as he pulled the cloth away from the disc. Two circular disks appeared that were hanging from a thick black thread. The thread was attached to the fabric and then to a black brace that gripped around the disk. I presumed this was a safety mechanism since the disc appeared to be very sharp. You wouldn’t want to slice open your hand or foot just trying to get it out. I had never seen anything like this before, even in drawings from books on combat. This weapon was unique, but I had no idea what to do with it.

I spoke out loud for the first time, “Grandpa Thaumus, I thought you made armour for the King’s armies.”

His eyes focused away from us as if he was seeing something we couldn’t. “I did. I made armour for kings and weapons to destroy them.”