Chapter 3: The Prophecy
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Chapter 3: The Prophecy

Tranquillity and serenity descended onto Igysil yet there was a hint of unspeakable sorrow that plagued the village.

Even though they proved victorious, that came at a cost: the lives of four warriors and the obliteration of their beloved forest. Although the beast tide never penetrated the village, the summoning of the Astral spirit had sapped the life force and vitality of the ground. In addition, supporting the tree had drained the lifeforce of the villagers.

There was no celebration held because of the weary state of the inhabitants. Instead, they all recovered in their home. Except for Polius and a selected few, they had to figure out how to handle the child of prophecy.

Within the Chief’s residence and around a square table sat Polius and three others. Polius was deep in thoughts. He sat on the chair with his chin rested on his fists. Opposite of Polius sat Reynold with his back straight and sweats forming on the forehead. His restlessness was understandable. Seated at the table were the three most prominent individuals in the village; Chief Polius, Apothecary Theo and the wisest elder, Empedocles.

Empedocles was none other than the elder that Polius entrusted the job of setting up the ceremony. Empedocles sat on the right of Polius. However, unlike Reynold, he slouched against the chair with his thin hand scratching his silvery beard. He glanced at the nervous Reynold and smirked.

“Why you so nervous, eh? Is sitting on a table with a great wise, powerful supreme immortal too much for you?” Empedocles teased.

In return, Reynold could only wryly smile - unsure what he should reply. “Empedoc-”   

“Aiya, didn’t I tell you to call me Empo? Tsk tsk, kids these days don’t listen to this humble old man,” Empedocles interrupted.

Reynold, speechless by Empedocles’ change of attitude, wanted to cry. On the bright side, Reynold had relaxed because of the teasing.  

“Ahem, I think it’s time we get to business,” Polius coughed. “Reynold, tell me what happen to your uncle.”

Reynold’s eyes shook upon hearing Polius’ words. A moment of silence passed yet Reynold did not speak. Instead, he was staring down onto his lap. Tears were about to build at the edge of his eyes and his palms squeezing his trousers.

“Un-uncle Haserick, h-he… he died!” Reynold stuttered, struggling to withhold his tears and his teeth gnashing against each other.

Silence enveloped the room, even Empedocles said nothing as his eyes shut closed.

“May his soul return to us so he can come home,” Polius closed his eyes and lamented.

Neither Empedocles nor Theo spoke a sound as they nodded in agreement.

“Reynold, I know it’s been harsh on you. You can return now and get rest,” Polius said.

Reynold slammed his palms onto the table. He inquired, “Chief, what will you do with the child?” His nerves no longer mattered as his emotions were flaring out.

“Tell me, Reynold, do you blame the child for the death of your uncle?” Polius replied.

Reynold, grinding his teeth and furrowing his brows, unsure of what to say in response.

“Do not blame the child,” Polius lectured. “He is only an infant, and any child born into this world bears no sin that the parents may have.”

Reynold looked up and stared at Polius, “But un-”

Polius interrupted, “Your uncle would have agreed with me. He took you in when you were an orphan, did he not?”

Reynold’s eyes enlarged and his emotions subsided as he weakly nodded. “I-I will excuse myself,” he muttered.

Reynold rose from his chair and left the room in a hurry, almost tripping on his way. Even though Polius could say more, he decided not to and let Reynold leave.

“The poor child, losing his sole family member and not being able to discharge his pending feelings,” Theo said after sipping his tea.

Polius sighed, shaking his head. “Let him be. In any case, an Exile Monster could never give birth to a human child.”

“How are you so confident, sonny boy?” asked Empedocles. “Or have you forgotten about the Blood Clans? If they exist, then anything is conceivable.”

“You might be right. However, this isn’t any toddler. He is the child of prophecy. He is the hope for our village,” Polius countered.

This time, Empedocles sighed. “The child of prophecy, eh? The prospect of our village is now more ambiguous than ever.”

Polius, agreeing with Empedocles, remained silent. While Empedocles had nothing else to express as he laid his back against the chair.

It was Theo who asked, “What shall we do now? How do you plan to raise the offspring, Chief?”

“Regarding that…” Polius responded, “I will have to implore you, Theo, to raise him into an Apothecary when he turns five.”

Theo, foreseeing this, nodded and thus accepted the responsibility.

“Until then, I will look after him myself. He will be my child from now onwards.”

Empedocles spat out the tea he was gulping, “What? You? Take care of a child?” he snickered. “You don’t even have a wife, let alone looking after a baby.”

Polius remained indifferent in front of the sceptical Empedocles. “Well, I can’t leave him with you, now can I?” he countered.

Empedocles snorted, “Heh, that child would love me when he grows up.”

Theo interjected, “And what shall we do next?”

“We will host a banquet tomorrow. Tonight is a silent night to honour those that we lost. Tomorrow, we will celebrate to honour those that are living,” Polius responded.

While Polius and the others were deliberating their plans, in a small house nearby, two villagers were bickering on their bed.

“What will happen to the child?” the wife turned her head around and asked

“Didn’t you hear what the Chief said?” the husband responded.

“Of course I did,” replied the wife as a matter of fact.

“Then why do you have to ask me then?” he retorted.

“Because I want to know what you think?” the wife said, annoyed by her husband's attitude. She turned her back towards him.

The husband sighed, “The Chief said he is the child of prophecy. That means the chief will raise the child here, don’t you think?”

Before the wife could respond, another voice came, “Papa, what’s the child of prophecy?”

In front of the door, there was a small infant rubbing her eyes. The couple stunned as they turned their focus onto the child. The man questioned, “Silly little girl, what are you doing awake?”

He got up from his bed and walked towards his daughter, picking her up in his arms. Pinching her chubby cheeks and waited for her answer.

“I couldn’t sleep tonight, papa. Can I sleep with you and mama?” replied the small infant.

Hearing this, the father chuckled, “Anything for my little seedling.” Carrying his daughter toward the bed and settled her down in between him and his wife.

He pecked her forehead, “You should sleep now, my tree sprout.”

“Wait…” the daughter yawned, “Can you… tell… me…” mumbled the daughter.

“Tell you about the child of prophecy?” the mother replied, knowing what her daughter wanted to know. “The prophecy is a legend of our village that dates way back in its creation. Th-”

The father interrupted, “The legend says a child will be born in our village who will bring a new era of prosperity. Upon being birthed; the earth would shake, the stars would glisten and the child would be extraordinary.”

The wife snorted in displeasure from being interrupted.

“Can… I be… that child?” whispered the daughter.

Both shocked, the pair of husband and wife stared at each other and laughed.

The father responded, “Yes, of course. My daughter is the best,” he kissed her cheek.

“Hehe… I will... be..” she giggled and fell asleep.

The couple smiled and then slept.

The gentle night went without incident and dawn arrived. As usual, most people carried out their job and obligations as if nothing had happened. The night rest and restoration pellet had rejuvenated them. While the family of the warriors who died still wept in anguish. No one dared to disturb them in their mourning.

In the Chief’s house, he experienced the biggest crisis in his lifetime. How does he clean a baby? Even though he was the Chief of the village and took care of the people, he never had to take care of a baby himself. He also didn’t have a wife to help him.

Suddenly, there was knocking on his door. As an escape from dealing with the situation, he rushed out to greet the surprise visitor.

“Greeting Chief,” outside of his home, there was a pair of women.

“Ahem, what have you come here for today?” he coughed.

Noticing his attitude, they giggled, “Chief, it’s like this. The elder sent us here, he stated you might require help.”

Polius wiped the sweat off his foreheads. He exhaled in relief, “Come in then.”

The women giggled as they entered the house.

“Oh, wow!” one of them exclaimed, peering at the slumbering infant while the other gasped. “Black hair… like the rumour said.”

Polius coughed to pull them out of their awe. They laughed in embarrassment.

“Chief, why don’t you let us handle this?” one of them inquired.

Polius nodded upon hearing the suggestion, “Yes! That would be for the best. I have other busy things to do.”

He scurried away, leaving the pair of women to take care of the child.

“Let’s give him a bath,” one of them said.

They lifted him from the bed and placed him into a small brown pot containing water. Oddly enough, the child didn’t wake up while being bathed.

After bathing the baby, they cleaned him up and dressed him in some baby clothing. However, as one of them were dressing him up, she noticed him wrinkling his light thin eyebrow.

“Oh! Medea, can you bring the other pot?” she asked the other, and then removed the baby’s clothing.

Medea walked in and carried a similar pot as before. Just this one was empty. “Is it time already, Lydia?”

“Seems so,” Lydia responded. Placing the baby into the pot. After a while, a strong stench spread.

However, the two experienced women didn’t flinch. Lydia picking up the infant and placing him back into a clean basin of water and scrubbed him again. While Medea picked up the stinky pot and rinsed it outside.

Meanwhile, at the village’s centre, the Chief was discussing with other men.

“Chief, you don’t know how to take care of a baby?” one man asked.

In the awkward position, the chief coughed, “And you do?”

“Well, you know me and my wife have different days as Hunters,” the men responded. “When little Grizzly was growing up, I had to take care of him while my wife was out hunting.”

“Same with me,” another villager nodded.

“When Rugia was born, my wife went hunting every day and left me with the baby,” another added.

With no options left, Polius asked, “So… how do you take care of an infant?”

The men looked at each other before one responded, “Well, for feeding, mix Asperg Cow’s milk with grounded Pecha leaves.”

Polius listened while scratching his chin.

“Feed the baby regularly throughout the day and oh yeah! You should keep a lot of pots in your house,” suggested one man.

The others nodded in agreement understanding what he meant. While Polius lifted one of his eyebrows and crossed his arms, unsure by what the villager meant.

“Why would I need a lot of pots?” Polius asked.

A villager answered, “You need one for bathing, one for the baby poop, and extras just in case.”

Polius stuttered, “R-right!” he choked and took a stride back. “I should take my leave now, there are other duties I must take care of.”

The men stared at each other as they watched their Chief running away. Without any incident, the day continued on and night soon came. However, that night they were all together sitting around a massive fire in the village's centre. Roasted underneath the fire were the Hunter’s spoils. Besides a few small creatures, there was one enormous piece of meat under the fire. The fragrant of the meat spread through the village, enticing everyone’s appetite.

Polius stood in front of the fire while donning his brown fur attire. On his face, two horizontal red lines were drawn underneath his eyes and one vertical line on his forehead. On his hand was a plain wooden staff. Unlike his attitude in the day, now he carried an atmosphere of grace, worthy of reverence.

He stared up at the glittering starry midnight sky. Tonight, the jewel of the sky burned brighter than ever. Overshadowing the vast darkness of the night and illuminating the village with their majestic presence. Despite everyone sitting together around a bonfire, it was a rather silent, cold, desolate night.

Polius spoke while lifting the staff, “Tonight, we celebrate the victory of yesterday! Tonight, we celebrate the future of tomorrow. And tonight, we feast to honour our ancestors.”

His voice reverberated throughout the village, breaking the silence. The villagers raised their clay bowls of water. No one made a sound during his speech.

Polius continued, “May the souls of our Ancestors bless our feast. Granting us their blessing! For us, another day to live is another day of possibilities.

“And for our brethren who sacrificed themselves for us to live another day, Thank you!”

The indescribable sorrow returned along with the frosty breeze of the night. Even though most of the villagers proceeded to do their task in the morning that did not mean what had transpired didn’t affect them.

No, they kept their feelings wedged deep inside. This night wasn’t just to celebrate their triumph, it was also to release their pent-up emotions. Soon, you could hear sobbing as a few couldn’t contain their feelings any longer. Some squeezed their knees as they sobbed while others cried onto the blanket of darkness that is the night sky.

The five lives lost had a tremendous impact. They were the precious children of their parent, caring parent of their own children and wife or husband of their love. Last, they were unforgettable heroes in their own right.

“We will never forget your sacrifices nor your legacy! May you rest well, fellow brethren,” Polius concluded.

Then the celebratory feast ensued, everyone unleashed their emotions in full because they knew the next day they would have to continue onwards with or without the deceased.

While the villagers were feasting, Polius stood afar watching the rowdy bunch and not partaking in the celebration. At his side, Empedocles sat munching off a leg of meat.

“Why aren’t you eating? You know it’s tradition,” Empedocles muffled as he ate.

Polius stared at the feasting villagers with his glistening eyes. “How can I have the appetite?”

Empedocles grumbled, “Don’t be blaming yourself, kiddo. Getting away from a battle with an Exile Monster with only five deaths is a miracle. Worthy of being proud.”

Polius turned and stared at Empedocles.

Empedocles continued, “This wasn’t the first Exile Beast our village have faced and certainly won’t be a last. Instead of being a worrywart, celebrate that only five have died. Cry you must, laugh you will and eat you try. Do it all tonight because tomorrow we will have to move on.”

Polius could only nod in response, and with that Empedocles gave Polius a strong pat on the back. Polius stumbled forwards and headed toward the feast. It was a mystery how a fragile old man could have such strength.

The night continued, tears shed without control and feelings were all unleashed without restriction. It was a night of honouring and mourning. A night symbolising the end of their old chapter and start of a new.

 

Author note: For those wondering, it’s pronounced em-ped-uh-kleez. Thank you for HappyVainGlory and Mjkj for pointing out a few mistakes.

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