“ I feel it’s only fair to start off from the very beginning, before I was chosen by the Su Ingi to be the next Su Baera.
I came from a somewhat humble background, born without a silver spoon in my mouth in to a home that wasn’t the most ideal of places to be born in. I was born in Bugrula, a small city in the nation of the east.
I was raised alone by my mother, and as for my father, neither I nor my mother knew who he was. You see my mother didn’t have the most noble of profession; she was a lady of the night who provided pleasure to all those wondering men that roamed night streets looking for away to enjoy themselves and I was conceived by one of my mother’s many customers.
I don’t know how many men my mother had pleased before having me and frankly, if I’m being honest, that knowledge deserves to be lost for all of eternity.
I know I wasn’t the first to be conceived as a result as a hard night at work for my mother, I know she had many others before me, others which never left her womb and made it to this world. I never got to ask her why I, out of all of my many siblings who weren’t fortunate enough to see the living world before being born, was spared and allowed to born in to this world, all I know is, for reasons I am yet to understand, she choose to give birth to me and be my mother.
My childhood wasn’t as fond as most. Being the son of someone like my mother wasn’t something I could say I was proud of and if I’m being honest, nether was she.
I spent my early years being home schooled, learning the basics like how to read and write by my mother. I didn’t really have any friends growing up as parents weren’t really fond of having the son of a mistress of night befriend any of their children and since I didn’t attend proper school like the other children my age, I didn’t really have a chance to make any friends.
I was a lonely child but at least I had my mother, granted she wasn’t the best mother in the world, I still remember days when she would have to leave late at night when she thought I was fast asleep to work, returning home early in the morning, her entire body covered with the smell of liquor and the musk of those ravenous beast she called her clients. Some days she would even come home with some bruises, sores and sometime even open wounds.
It hurt seeing my mom in that state and whenever I tried to console her but she would just push me away and lock herself in her room for the entire day each time I tried.
I could sense her pain and even though at the time I didn’t know why she was hurt, I still wanted to help but she wouldn’t let me.
As I grew up I slowly began to understand what was wrong and the nature of my mother’s profession and the terrible toll it was taking on her as she spent most of her days lying on the bed sleep, she barely eat and her body was usually covered in ether sores and wounds whenever she returned home from work.
I tried confronting her on several occasions but each time I did she would ether casts a deaf ear to my words, yell at me or beat me. I knew she was hurt and didn’t like the work she had to do but we needed the money. But even at that, I couldn’t bear the fact my mother had to suffer so much and all to make earns meet, so one day I decided to leave home and journey out to look for job with the hope that by doing so I might be able to solves our money woes and possibly make my mother quit the job that brought her nothing but misery.
I searched and search, but I couldn’t find anyone will to hire me. I was ether too young or by virtue of my mother’s status, not qualified to be hired. I was willing to do anything work assigned to me but still no one was willing to put me to work. But just when all hope seemed lost an old man called out to me from his workshop.
The man was a tinkerer who collected old worn out machines to fix them and then sell them off. He was in search of an assistant and unlike the others, his only qualifier for the job was to have hands that work, be smart and quick, always obey his instructions. And, according to him, I looked good enough to meet those requirements. So, I was put to work as his assistant.
I knew if my mother found about me working, she wouldn’t take it well, so I decided not to tell her. During that time, she had to work extra hours which led to her coming back home later and it a mood that made her resemble more of a walking corpse than a living thing she would then spend the rest of the day sleeping before working up later in the evening. This routine of hers made it easy to hide the fact that he had a job, as I would usually wait for her to return home and go straight to bed after which I would rush straight to the old man’s workshop and began to work.
I word hard all day, helping the tinkerer repair and fix different kinds of machine and as I did, I learnt a little in the process. It turns out fixing a broken machine it’s a lot like trying to solve a puzzle, you just have to find the missing piece and fit it in at least that’s how I saw it anyway.
As time passed my mother’s condition grew worse and worse, I barely saw her during the day and the only time I did manage to see her was when she felt let at night to work. This made me worry about her even more and eager to work harder to save her from her terrible job before it was too late. So I worked hard and did work that was assigned to me well, and after about a mouth, I was paid for my labor by the old man.
The pay wasn’t much but it was a descent amount, enough to support me and my mother a week or two. And once I received the money I rushed home, with an ecstatic heart, eager to present my earnings to my mother but, upon reaching home, the excitement and joy I felt for finally being able to earn enough money and save my mother from her work was destroyed in an instant and replaced by dread, sadness, pain and misery.
That day will forever be stamped in my heart as the worst day of my life, a day I still remember oh so clearly even though I tried my very best to forget it.
I remember rushing home and headed straight in to my mother’s room, not caring that she would probably be upset with me for budging in to her room, money in hand and ready to present it to her but when I called out to her, she gave no response. Called out to her again, thinking she was in some kind of deep sleep due to her exhaustion, but like before, she gave no response. I called out to her several more times but, like the previous times, she gave no response. A mix of fear, worry and concern then washed over me as I went to her bed and shook her, but just like when I called out her name, her cold, lifeless body, gave no response.
That was my first experience with death and the pain of loss, my mother, the woman that birth me, and the only person I had, was gone, and no matter how hard I shook and begged her to open her eyes, they remained sealed shut.
I remember looking down at the money in my hand, it worth and value disappearing in my eyes as I thought about how my mother was slowly dying and instead of being there for her I was out there, working for those meaningless pieces of papers on my hand.
I know now that it was wrong of me to blame myself, but at the time, that was all I could do. My sadness and pain over the loss of my dear deceased mother blinded me to the fact her death was out of my control, after all, I was just a child, powerless and weak to do a thing.
The very next thing I did upon witnessing my mother’s dead corpse was run. To where, I knew not, all I wanted to do was run away, leave home and everything being because I didn’t really have anything to begin with. My home was always me and my mother; she was the only person that was there for me and took care of me, she meant everything to me and I couldn’t picture a life without, and now that she was gone, I felt like my entire world was falling and shattering apart. So I ran away, my mind racing, praying and hoping it was a nightmare and I would wake soon to be greeted my mother’s warm and loving smile.
But as I ran, I tripped and stumbled down on the ground, hitting my face on a puddle on the floor. And upon getting up and seeing my reflection on the murky and dirty puddle water, I was faced cooled and painful truth, what had happened was not a dream and my beloved mother was gone.
I remember tears beginning to fall down from my eyes as the bitter and horrific realization of my mother’s passing began to slowly sink in to my young mind. Then the weather changed, almost as those, it was reflection the dread, pain and sadness I felt at that moment , with little droplets of rain descending down from the sky and dark grey cloud forming with roaring thunder and lightning echoing from the above.
I watched as every rushed in to their homes to escape the storm while I just stood there without an ounce of care for my drenched and soaked body. In that moment, I didn’t mind the cold winds and rain droplets that soaked me, the flash of lightning and roar of thunder didn’t bother me much ether. I didn’t want to return home, I didn’t want to have to face my mother’s lifeless corpse, so I chose to roam through the streets aimless. With teary eyes and weak shaking leg, I walked through the streets with my head bowed low and tears falling down from my eyes harder than the pouring.
Wondered about aimless through the streets not minding the pouring rain like some kind of walking corpse until I walked passed an alley where a scream drew my attention. I then turned my attention to the alleyway. There, trembling with pure and utter fear was a lady surrounded by a group of pity thugs who were planning on doing things I don’t have stomach strong enough to describe.
The matter was none of my concern; I could have easily ignored the lady and continuing wondering about aimless but as my gaze met that of the woman, her terrified and frightened face slowly morphed and changed in to that of my mother. Suddenly, my feet refused to take another step and my gaze fixed on the woman, scared and frighten at what may transpire between her and the men if someone, anyone, doesn’t come to her aid. And upon seeing the fear in her eyes, I felt as though I was seeing the same fear mixed with a hint of shame, I saw in my mother’s eyes each time she left our home at night to her job where she would be continuously devoured by animals just like the ones that surrounded the woman. Then, as I watched the hungry look of the men, I felt anger and disgust from the deep depth of my being rise up and consume me.
Then my legs moved but not to walk away or run, it moved towards the thugs. Then before I could understand what was going on, I launched my fist straight for one of them, hitting him as hard as my little fist could muster. The thugs then turned their attention to me, allowing the lady to slip away, leaving there to face their wrath alone.
I still remembered how I felt in that moment, frightened, scared and helpless but yet I did not regret helping the woman. I don’t know why but that woman reminded me of my mother and by saving her, I felt as though I was saving my mother even though in reality that was far from the truth.
The gang leader held me by the collar and then proceeded to look me in the eye with a sinister and devilish grin as his mind began to fill up with ways he could make me pay for interfering with whatever sinister plan they had with that woman. I didn’t know what he and his men were planning on doing with me and I honestly didn’t want to find out. So, thinking fast, I decided to act before that could do anything to me. I then brought out two of my finger and then used them to poke the leader’s eyes causing him to let go of me. Then I ran, as fast as my legs could carry me while the enraged thugs weren’t too far off, chasing after me with blood lustful eyes.
I ran and I ran but it seemed like my pursuers were hell bent on catching me. As my legs ached from the pain and strain as I ran, I knew that sooner or later they were give out and when they did, I was as go as dead in the hands of the thugs. If I knew that if I wanted to see another day I had to find somewhere place quick to hide. So I looked around my surroundings and found a cargo port, where sky ships came by the dozens to transport their precious cargo.
Seeing as I didn’t have much of a choice and with the thugs still in hot pursuit of me, I decided to hide in the cargo port. Slipping in to one of the cargo crates and hiding there so the thugs couldn’t find me. But seemed like my luck was out to get me that day because upon entering the cargo, one of the cargo workers decided to seal the crate shut with me inside.
I wanted to scream and shout for him to let me out but upon seeing the thugs searching for me all over the port, I decided I was be best if I remained silent and stayed put within the cargo until they left. Another decision by me that ended up backfiring as the crate I was in was then being taken to one of the sky ships.
It took a while but the ship’s crew eventually found out that someone was trapped inside one of the crates and they freed me but not before the ship had already departed, leaving Bugrula and was already soaring high up in the sky.
The captain, Mr. Toni, was furious upon find a stowaway on his ship. I swear that man’s face looked like it was going to explode with his face as red as fiery embers and veins that looked like there were going to pop right out of his face. I swear that man’s furious face still hunts my dreams till this day.
The captain wanted to turn the ship around and send back to where I came but we were already too far from Bugrula and a trip back to drop me off would waste too much time as they were on a tight schedule and needed to deliver their cargo to its destination as soon as possible. So the captain, reluctantly, allowed me to stay in ship until they delivered the cargo.
My time with the captain and his crew was one of the most memorable time of my life. The captain, not enjoy the thought of someone stowing way in his ship for free with being punished, decided to put me to work, in his words: “If you are crafty enough to get unbound my ship without my permission, you’re crafty enough to use a mop”. So I was tasked with moping and cleaning the ship all throughout my stay on it, which a job I deeply loathed. As not only was the ship colossal in size, housing a hundred different rooms, it seemed as though the crew weren’t the most hygienic bunch. I remember the smell that came from those rooms and the way it make my nose cry and beg me to put it out of its misery, the strange stains on the floors and the walls that were both sticky and slippery at the same time, and I don’t even want to begin to describe the kind of horror I had to face in the toilets. In summary, it was a messy, disgusting, and vomit inducing job I have ever had the displeasure of doing.
I cleaned the entire ship for days and for my work I was rewarded with a corner and a few corners to sleep in, the captain also provided for some food and water for me, saying he didn’t want to have to explain to the authorizes why the body of child who died of starvation was on his ship, he also added that I was a great cleaner and if I were to die of starvation there would be nobody else who could clean as well I could. I was indeed grateful all the captain had provide for me while I was unbound his ship, even though I reek of putrid mix of decomposing sewage and a rooting corpse, a smell I never got used to in all the days I spent in that ship.
During the time I spent in the ship I found myself missing my old life, even though I didn’t have much to miss. All I had was a small rickety old house and a mother who did what she to do to provide for me. Tears slowly dripped down from eyes every time I remembered what I’d lost, a home and mother. I cursed my luck and fate for what I had lost, and I constantly asked myself why I did have to suffer and loss so much at such a young age. I remembered how I watched by mother suffer and every godforsaken day of my life if not from the overwhelming shame felt for what she had to do earn money so I and her eat, then it was the wounds that were inflicted on her while she was being manhandled by those monsters. I had to come to terms with the cold bitter realization that the world was unfair; I and my poor late mother were proof of that fact.
I couldn’t sleep much while I was on the ship, nightmares of that horrific day plagued my dreams every time I dared to shut my eyes, it was the main reason I was always the first to wake while the rest of the crew was fast asleep and start my disgusting work. I figured that while I was awake, I could get some work done that way the mold and fungus wouldn’t have a chance to spread and the rats were usually tired during that time and didn’t put up much of a fight when I tried clearing them out. But one I woke a bit earlier than usual, it seemed as though the night terrors were at their strongest that night as they jolted me away even before the sun had a chance to set.
It was still dark out but I still choose to work, not because I enjoyed it, believe me when I say, there is no living soul that can ever enjoy cleaning that bloody ship. But because cleaning those unspeakable horrors distracts and keeps my mind away from having to confront what I saw in my nightmares as each time I drifted away to sleep, I’m taken back to that day, standing in that house, in that room, seeing her, lifeless and empty. I’m forced to relive that misery day, over and over again in my nightmares. So when I’m awake, I try as much as I can, to keep my mind from thinking about that day. During the night while I slept I had to endure a fate comparable to the greatest hell and there was no way I would allow myself to endure such a fate during the day.
So I worked as hard I could, sweeping, scrubbing, washing and mopping, I did all. Fighting through gunk, strange indescribable stains, and smells that made want to cut my nose clean off. I did it all in a desperate attempt to push away the painful and agonizing memories of that day. I didn’t want to be reminded of what I’d lost.
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During that fateful day I did all work faster than usual, the sun hadn’t even risen yet and everyone in the ship was still fast asleep. It seemed as though all the time I spent cleaning had made proficient at my unfortunate job. But I didn’t that as a good. I didn’t having to clean all day but it was a far better fate than being able and then having the horrors of that accursed plaguing and tormenting my mind.
The fact that I no longer had any other work to do left me with only me with only one of two options, either try to fall back asleep and face the horrors of his nightmares or try my very best to stay awake while also avoiding recalling the horrific events of that fateful day. The latter of the two seemed more preferable, so I decided to try and stay up. But sadly my body, tired and exhausted from all the work, was against me and after a few short minutes I my drowsy and sleepy.
I tried my very best to keep myself from falling asleep but no matter how hard I tried my tired eyes lids just grew heavier and heavier. I tried slapping myself to stay away, but my hands grew tire of constantly striking my cheeks after they had gone red from my constant slapping. I tried pouring cold water on my head but the cold air along with the cold water just made me want to fall asleep even more. I even tried bashing my head against the steely metal walls of the ship but try as I may, all my attempts seemed to be for not as I lids, despite my best efforts, kept growing heavier and heavier. It seemed as though I would soon succumb to sleep and return back to the dreadful and horrific world of my nightmares, reliving that fate and damned day.
In a last dish effort to stay awake, I tried roaming about through the empty halls, passing the many rooms in the ship, hoping that the activity of walking would be enough to keep me awake. That’s when I noticed some light escaping one of the rooms in the ship. It seemed as though one of the crew mates, Mr. Akidi, the ship’s resident engineer was up and from the sounds of something sparking in the room, it seemed as though he was busy so early in the morning working on a project. Curiosity got the better of me and I wanted to see what he was working on, so silently made my way to his room door and peeped from small opened corner.
I couldn’t get a clear view of what he was working on but I could see other projects displayed all over the room. Mr. Akidi seemed to love tinkering in his spare time as littered about in his room were hundreds of handmade machines, ranging from miniature mechanical carriages, to air ships, mechanical limbs that seem to provide him with whatever tool he may require while working, and many other crafts I can’t find the words to begin to describe.
The Akidi soon stood up from his seat and made his way to the door. I didn’t want to be caught by him out of fear that I might end being in some kind of trouble so I hid behind the corner of the door. Luckily due to the fact that he was so eager to leave the room, Mr. Akidi failed to notice me, as he rushed out of the room, headed straight for the toilet. I vividly remembered having to clean the worst disasters in those accused toilets later that day and soon realized that Mr. Akidi contributed greatly to my suffering.
Anyway, seeing that Mr. Akidi was gone, I, driven by intrigue and curiosity, venture in to the room, against my better judgment, to see for myself the wonders of mechanical parts, steel gears, tools, and beautiful works of metal crafts laid within the four walls of the room. It was truly a magnificent sight, teaming with wonderful works of craft a like a mechanical band made of iron and pure steel, mechanical dog, he even had mechanical woman whose curves and features greatly resemble that of a real woman. But out of all the wondrous works that filled the room, what caught my eye the most was a pair of silver metallic wings hung on the wall. They were elegant in design, almost looking angelic to the naked eye. I stared at it for a while, my gaze firmly fixed at the splendid beauty of the metallic wings. However, my attention on the wings was soon captured by what was on work desk.
Next to metal lamp, was a small and incomplete compass, it passed lying next to it along with its blue prints, hand drawn, given precise and meticulous instruction as to what part goes where. I was impressed at dedicated Mr. Akidi was to his craft, he was truly a skilled man and just by take a quick glance at his work I could tell that he was indeed a man of his craft. I then felt an itch, my hands; seemingly having a mind of their own made their way to one of the uninstalled part of the machine. Just by looking at it I could easily tell where it needed to, but I couldn’t just insert with my bare hands. I needed a tool. I then glanced down at the desk, seeing many levers on it and on each of them was an engraved symbol of a tool. I looked through each of the lever until I found the one I was looking for. I then pulled it, then a mechanical limb extended forth towards me and handed me the tool I needed. I was taken aback a bit upon being handed the tool by a mechanical limb but I graciously accepted and then immediately good to work. Finishing the compass was too difficult thanks to my prior experience as a tinker coupled with the clear and detailed instruction on the blue prints. Soon I was almost done, and only one piece remained, that was when I heard the sound of someone clearing his throat from being me.
I then froze up, recognizing the voice and knowing exactly who was behind me. He then called out to me, saying, “What are you doing here son”. I then slowly turned to him, my entire body shaking and feeling my heart pound from within my chest and on my shaking hands was the almost finished compass. I closed my eyes, awaiting the beating I anticipated I was going to receive but that beating never came, instead Mr. Akidi simply grabbed the compass, inspected and then asked “Did you do this on your own”. To which I answered by simply nodding my head. The man just smiled and nodded his head before saying, “Impressive, not only did you follow my instruction but you so accurately without making any blunders”.
Upon hearing praises from Mr. Akidi, I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by it as compared to all his works in that room, a messily compass was nothing. But I seemed as though that something I and Mr. Akidi did not agree with as he began to praise my workmanship on the compass and even questioning me on how I became so skilled at the craft. I then opened up to him about my former profession as an assistant to a tinkerer, attributing whatever skills Mr. Akidi believed I possessed to it.
Mr. Akidi upon hearing what I said burst in to laughter, finding it amusing how, in his own words “… a young boy blessed with fine hands like you skilled with talent and potential wasted it all away being an assistant”. The man then burst into laughter once more, leaving me baffled and confused as I tried understanding what was going on in Mr. Akidi’s head. After a few long moments of heavy laughter, Mr. Akidi, asked me what my name was, I then proceeded to introduce myself. The mechanic then gave me an offer saying, “look, I’m the only freaking mechanic in this is entire ship and you’d be surprised how many times something needs fixing around here. The workload tends to get a bit overwhelming at times and I’m in desperate need of a pair of fine hands like you. So if you’re willing would you care to be my apprentice”. The offer caught me by surprise, I mean all I did was fix a compass that was already halfway finished and that just by following the instructions already laid out by Mr. Akidi in his blue prints, I didn’t believe that there was anything special about what I did but the old man seemed to have believed otherwise.
It took me a moment to give a response to him but I ultimately accepted his offer, having missed the joyful sensation that came from spending hours toiling and repairing machines of all kinds as a tinkerer’s assistant and the additional bonus of doing some work that didn’t make me reek of an odor that was potent enough to make anyone willing want to forgo their ability to breath just to avoid the that heinous stench. It was an offer I was all too eager to accept and with a rough and excruciatingly painful handshake from a man whose hands I swear are capable of bending pure steel, I was made the proud apprentice of Mr. Akidi. Being an apprentice to the mechanic, much to my annoyance, didn’t mean I was free from my task as a cleaner, it just meant I had addition work added to my already dreadful job, oh well at the very least I had other things to do than cleaning those filthy toilets all day.
Anyway, as I began my work as the mechanic’s apprentice I discovered that Mr. Akidi execrated a bit when about his work load, in reality, he didn’t need to do much apart from the daily inspection of the ship’s engines and navigation tools he didn’t need to do much. Sure every now and then the captain or one of the crew members would bring some kind of broken device to him to fox which he does but not before yelling at them about how they always come to disturb whenever he was busy. In Mr. Akidi’s defense, he was indeed busy but not with work, you see, during Mr. Akidi’s free time, he likes to tinker a bit, creating new, sometimes bizarre machines and devices for he wasn’t just a mechanic, he was also an inventor who spent every moment he had, when not busy with his work as a mechanic, creating marvelous and amazing contraptions like the mechanic dog that can bark and walk on all fours like a real dog or the mechanic woman who he designed to dance, the mechanical band which played music that was a beat hard and rough but pleasant to the ear, even the mechanical limbs that brought him his tools were his own creation. But his most passionate works were small toys and figures he made, often spending hours on end meticulously, paying attention to every fine detail, to create them. He loved working on them, I swear I could see his eyes winkle oh so slightly every time he finished putting the finishing touches on them. We spent a vast majority of our time making those toys with Mr. Akidi not wasting a moment wailing on me whenever I got the intrinsic and delicate mechanics of a miniature flying ship, always going on about if the measurements of the ships wings or the rotation of the propels are off even if slight, the ship would not fly. He had a bit of an obsession with toy making at a point I was beginning to worry of the man but apart from that, he was a good man and an even better teacher. While the tinkerer I worked as his assistant did teach me the basics, Mr. Akidi greatly expended on what I learnt from me.
He changed the way I saw tinkering, allowing me to understand that despite the fact it’s a lot like puzzle and you’re the one tasked with putting together the broken pieces, the puzzle can be and is whatever you make of it. If I remember correctly, he’s exact words where, “If it’s already broken you can do the boring thing and fix it exactly as it was before, changing nothing and leaving it exactly the same or you can take the fun approach and fix it to be whatever you want it to. You can something as plain and simple like a mechanical carriage into a flying machine”. He thought me that something doesn’t necessarily have to be fox in a certain manner or way to be fixed, if it does what you indeed it to do and doesn’t cause any fires and blow up in your face, then you should be proud of your work.
Mr. Akidi was a good man and a great mentor. While working alongside him if felt something I had felt before, I’m not entire sure how best to put it but for the first time in my life I felt a sense of acceptance, like I wasn’t some kind of a bounden or mistake placed upon someone. I felt wanted and acceptance. It was a feeling I didn’t realize I had been denied my entire life before then.
I worked hard each and every day from the very moment the sun rose up to even when it disappeared and the shadow of the night fell. I worked myself to the bone, partly because I enjoyed the work and partly because I was scared of having to rest and fall asleep and return back to those horrific nightmares. Working as Mr. Akidi’s assistant was the perfect d excuse I needed to stay awake as much as possible in other to avoid those dreadful nightmares but as time passed Mr. Akidi realized something was wrong, noticing how reluctant I was to take a break from working and rest my tired body. At first I was brush away his worries with the excuse that I was just so excited and happy to work and he would just assume it was my passion for the craft but as time passed he began to notice something, the fear and sadness in my eyes every time we finished our work. I soon realized that I wasn’t just eager or passionate about working; I was outright horrified to stop. Mr. Akidi knew something was wrong and no about of excitement or enthusiasm from me would be enough to convince him otherwise.
So one night, after we had finished putting the finishing touches on project we’ve been working on, clock that also acted like a calendar, capable of telling but the time, days, months, and even years. It was something the captain had been asking Mr. Akidi to make for days, only finally getting on it and finishing that night after putting it off for so many days. Once we we’re done, I, in a desperate attempt to lengthen my waking hour suggested we do something else, maybe making another flying ship or mechanical carriage, but all my suggestions were turned down.
Mr. Akidi then brought out one of his miniaturized mechanical carriages, winded up its gears and then placed it on the table and allowed it move about on the table until it stopped on its own. He then asked, “Why did the carriage stop”. The question seemed like an absurd question at first which greatly shocked and baffled me as I wondered to myself why Mr. Akidi would asked me such a question. Mr. Akidi then gave a reply to his seemly absurd question by saying, “It stopped because that was what it was designed to do, run a little while its gears are turning before ultimately coming to a stop. That’s what ultimately every machine ever made was designed to do. Do the work that it’s required to do and then stopping because if it doesn’t stop, it will overwork itself and then break down”.
Upon hearing Mr. Akidi’s words I was able to understand what he was trying to say. That man wasn’t just brilliant when it came to machines and that was a fact I realized during that moment.
“Do you want to know the difference between you and a machine?” Mr. Akidi asked.
“It’s that when it breaks” he spoke before smashing the carriage on the ground, breaking it was in to hundred tiny pieces. “It can easily be fixed; all you need are the right tools. You on the other hand, once you break, there is almost nothing in this world that can put you back together”.
Upon hearing what he said I remained silent and just bowed my head, gathering all the strength I could muster to avoid shedding a tear. I then felt a hand on my shoulder, before raising my head up to see Mr. Akidi looking at me with a comforting and warm smile an his face before opening he mouth to say, “What’s wrong son?” Eyes reflecting the fear, worry, and concern he had for me in his heart.
Then, with tears flowing down through my eyes like an endless stream, I opened my mouth and began to tell my sad and grim tale. I told him everything and left nothing out including who my mother was and her profession, what I did to save and how ultimately I was too late for her in the end. Mr. Akidi listened attentively to it all and once I was done he sighed deeply, before chuckling lightly and saying, “Your life it pretty messed up son”.
That was statement could not refute nor deny as he was right, the life I had lived up until that point was a bleak, messy, and extremely far from being perfect. Mr. Akidi then questioned me on if the painful ordeal I had faced in my life was the reason I refused rest even when it was blatantly clear I needed to rest to I replied yes before proceeded to tell him about the nightmares of fateful day that had been haunting my dreams. Mr. Akidi, upon finding out the reason I’ve been refusing to avoid any form of rest after a hard day’s work decided to seat me down tell me a story, similar to me, who lost everything.
The boy was the son of an ‘exotic dancer’ and similar to how my mother was a mistress of the night, it wasn’t a proud profession but it was one that ensured both her and her son had something to eat. The boy’s father abandoned both he and his mother a long time ago before he was even born which was the main of the reason her mother had no choice but accept any work she was offered even if it was one a deplorable as dancing with barely a piece of fabric on her, her body exposed for all the drunk s and intoxicate men to pine over. Despite the shame and distain brought upon her and her line of work, she still earned enough to get a home. The boy didn’t have any friends except for his small scruffy looking dog he found one day abandoned by the dirty gutters as a child near his home. The boy had an exception skill, always tinkering about with scrap metal and discarded parts and pieces of broken machines, always trying to find away to turn them in to a toy of some kind to play with since the money his mother made was not enough to buy him any toys of his own. The mother seeing this talent of her young child, wished to nurture it with the hope that may that skill would be able to provide brighter future than she could ever. So she asked one of the local mechanics to train and teach the boy.
For a time, the boy’s life seemed good; he had a loving mother who did her very best to provide for him, a dog which he adored, and was trained to hone his skills to ensure a bright future, then tragedy struck. A war started but it an ordinary war, it happened far off, outside the borders of all four nations but still its effects could be felt in every nation. Earthquakes, dust and thunderstorms, red hot balls of flames raining from sky, these were the effect of that war. From the war he described with, with dread, horror, pain, and sorrow in his voice, it didn’t seem like a war between men, and it wasn’t. In Mr. Akidi’s words, “It was a bloody war between gods and demons”.
This wasn’t my first time hearing of this very war, for it was a common tale in all four nations about the war between perfect and divine godlike being name the E’Tamunarans waged a great war between the beastly, barbaric and demonic E’Uha. These two titans clashed in a great war that shook the very foundations of the Earth and transformed the entire world into a living hell with the nation, despite the war happening outside its borders, being gravely affected by it. In fact, according to the tales and whispers spread amongst the people, the war would wiped out every living soul in all four nations if it wasn’t for the intervention of a being dawning wings sliver steel with power greater than both sides of war, a warrior known by name as the Su Baera.
That was the first I was hearing an account of the war in such detail from a person who actually lived through it, as I only heard murmurs and whispers about how truly horrifying the war was but never a firsthand account. Mr. Akidi continued his story and told me the grim fate that befell his beloved mother, dog, and so many others due to that war. Death, misery, and destruction filled the air during those days, and the young tender little boy had stand above the rubble that was once his home where his beloved mother and dog were buried under.
That was, sadly how he ended his tale. But that was an ending I could not and refused to accept as the definite end of the tale. So, refusing to believe that such a grim end, I asked Mr. Akidi, “What happened to the boy?”
To which he replied, “It wasn’t easy, and the pain and sorrow that came from his loss did greatly weigh over his heart but he eventually found the strength to bare it and go on living his life. He even eventually became a man and a mechanic in a beaten up old ship with crew that can’t give him a moment of peace, and a brilliant little apprentice”.
Upon Mr. Akiri’s words I realized what should have been blatantly obvious, that he was the boy in the story. The realization of the fact that the grim story I just heard was the past of a man who, despite the occasional outbursts of annoyance whenever someone disturbs him while he was ‘working’, seemed happy without a trace of sorrow and pain in him, made me wonder how can someone go through that much and still end up like he did, happy and content.
“How did you move past the pain?” I asked with a low voice, genuinely wanting to know how he pushed passed his pain. Mr. Akidi just smiled before pointing at the pair of steel wings mounted on his wall. “A warrior dawning a pair of wings made of pure steel that shun like sliver, brighter than the sun and the combined lights of stars in the night sky, descended from the heavens, with a power so great, it forced both the E’Tamunarans and E’Uhas to stop fight and make peace to save the four nations” Mr. Akidi spoke with a smile on his face while his tears while his remained fixed on the steel wings.
“The fact that a being power greater than the gods and demons who looked down at us like ants stopped them from waging a war that threatened the lives of everyone in all four nations, including myself gave me strength I needed during those dark times. Life isn’t easy son, especially for people like us. From the very moment you’re born it feels like the entire world is against you, trying to break you in every conceivable way. But the fact that someone out there was willing to go against literal gods and demons so I and everyone living in the four nations could live, makes the pain of living slightly more bearable”,
That was the first I ever truly understood what the symbol of the Su Baera stood for and what people saw when they saw those pair of steel wing, it was hope for better days to come, a sign to give you the strength to bare through the agony and pain life brought you way, knowing that even if life was rough, there someone out there willing to fight for you. I still remember how I felt as a child hearing those be uttered by Mr. Akidi, the way my heart eased up are days of being gripped by fear and tension. I felt lighter and calmer, and for the first time in what felt like a life time, I allowed myself slumber and even though I still had to face the nightmares in my dreams, I found the strength I needed to bear them….