“No solicitations!”
Arys awakens to the sound of loud knocking on the door. He slowly opens his eyes; his vision is a blur. It is cold, the ground made him shiver but the sheet of cloth wrapped around him made it bearable.
It is so cold…
His thoughts slowly form. When the wooden door opened, two individuals greeted him. They look rather surprised, their faces expressing a rather tired look.
“Oh, no…”
It is raining, and the sound of rain makes it hard for Arys to hear. He feels weak and tiny, he can move his limbs but only sheepishly.
“Another one?” a rather old and grumpy voice of a man said, “Another one of them and this place will surely starve!”
An old feminine voice shushes, “Quiet!”
Arys can feel like he is being lifted up, and he starts to open his eyes. A feeble light welcomes his gaze, when the blur settles, he sees two old and frail individuals. A woman who is carrying him and a man holding a lamp.
Where am I? How did I get here?
Arys tries to remember his circumstance but to no avail, he has no control over his bodily functions.
“Don’t tell me we’re keeping it,” The man grunts “We got enough kids in this damn place, this is not an orphanage!”
The woman playfully tickles Arys, “He’s a baby boy.”
A-am I a baby?!
“I don’t care what he is!”
“Can’t you see?” she said as she looked at the man lovingly, “The Gods has given us another, who are we to refuse?”
“Damn the Gods…” the man rolls his eyes and steps inside.
“Howie!” the woman follows him.
The man extinguished the lamp and placed it on a nearby cupboard, “What now, Imelda?”
The door is still open, rain can be heard, and thunder startled Arys. He knows full well mere lightning shouldn’t be scary for him but it felt like he was on auto-pilot when his limbs reacted in fear and he started to cry.
“Great, now he’s crying,” Howie said with contempt.
“That’s because you insulted the Gods!” Imelda closes the door behind her and steps inside the living room where the fireplace is.
Why am I crying, how to stop!?
Arys is still crying but in his mind, he wants to stop already so he can hear the conversation properly.
“The Gods will forgive me but I won’t if you keep that child, Imelda…” Howie seems to be struggling with feeding wood in the fireplace, he can barely crouch down.
Imelda sighs and approaches Howie, she gives the child to him and he reluctantly carries it for her. She kneels down and puts wood in the fireplace.
“Look at him, I bet his parents didn’t want him because he looks like a goblin!”
Who are you calling a goblin?
Arys collects himself, he is still confused about what’s happening and his whereabouts but he can now discern his surroundings more properly.
Imelda slaps Howie on the shoulder and takes Arys back, “Don’t say horrible things, and don’t be mean,”
I like her.
Howie paces slowly towards a couch, murmuring and grunting.
“What’s that?” Imelda said while placing Arys on top of their dinner table.
“Nothing,” Howie shakes his head, “It’s just- I can’t understand why you’re willing to take care of irresponsible people’s problems! I had no objections the first time, then the second time felt wrong, third is too many, and now you want to take in a fourth one? Should I call the apothecary to get your head checked? Have you succumbed to dark magic after all?”
“When the Gods decided not to give us our own, we didn’t object! And if they gave us someone to own then we should accept the responsibility!”
Howie painstakingly turns around to face Imelda, “But, Imee, a fourth kid at this age? How could we possibly take care of him? The other children in this household are still too young! They will empty the coffers, eat the stocks, and I doubt you have any mi—”
Imelda sternly stares at Howie, and Arys feels uneasy. Suddenly the atmosphere changed.
“I’m sorry,” Howie said “I was out of line.”
Imelda smirks, “Indeed you are,” she offers her husband her hand, gesturing for him to come close, “Look at this child, you may say he’s a goblin but he is our goblin now…”
What the—?
Howie approaches the dinner table with Imelda, “I just can’t believe every two years there’s a child on our doorstep…”
“That is how the Gods work, they mysteriously give us blessings we never knew we wanted.” Imelda rests her head on Howie’s shoulders, “Who knows? Maybe he’s the last blessing we’ll ever receive.”
“I hope so…” Howie sighs “Remember the first time this happened?”
Imelda chuckles, “Oh yes, Garth was soaked and wet. Had a burning fever after. We thought he was going to die… But in the end, he grew up strong, and even at a young age he helps with the farm."
Damn…
Howie smiles and holds Imelda’s hand, “That’s why I built a canopy!”
Imelda rolls her eyes, “When Hearth came around it fell on her… Poor child, I hope she doesn’t remember that.”
“Oh…” Howie clicks his tongue and rubs his chin, “But that’s how we learned she got magic. Remember when she lifted the debris and smashed it on us? That girl was a menace from the start!”
Magic? Am I in another world!?
She laughs softly, “I remember when she accidentally started a fire and almost burned Barth’s head!”
“Poor Barth, suffering from a bald spot at a young age. I think that’s an omen that he’ll grow up smart!”
They both laugh in nostalgia. They look at each other lovingly.
S-scary! Are there any child protection services in this world?!
All this time, all Arys could do was listen.
“Two years… Two years ago, we found Barth at the same doorstep crying so timidly, I thought he was a cat! Four years before that, we welcomed Hearth, such a blessing she is! And then there’s Garth… our first. I can’t believe we’ll be having a fourth one. Just like the legendary heroes of old.” Imelda wraps the sheet around Arys properly.
Howie nods, “Heroes, eh? I remember those days. But why would people just leave their child to us? Why us?”
“I find myself asking the same question, Howie. But maybe it is just how it works. You don’t question how magic works, do you?”
Howie clicks his tongue again, “Well that’s why there are mages around. That’s their job! Our job is to raise farm animals and harvest crops! All I’m asking is why here? In the middle of nowhere! Why would someone leave a poor child in a rural backwater farming village, huh?”
“Enough with you.”
“It’s either the Gods messing with us or the village folk! I swear— and two years? Every two years? Are you not suspicious that maybe these kids are of the same blood? From the same family?! We better find them before we croak. We are old, Imelda, I wish you would realize that…”
Imelda looks at Howie with a smile forming, “Realize what? Realize that one day they will have to live on their own without us. That one day maybe our time in this realm shall end and we return back to the Gods?”
“Yes…”
“I do realize that, Howie… But I rather leave this borrowed mortal vessel knowing that I shared the kindness that the Gods have given us. I experienced life, you experienced it, too! I want these kids to experience that as well. That is why we will raise these kids strong, kind, wise, and smart!”
Howie rubs his chin again, “You and your religious nuttiness… You do know that wise and smart are the same thing, right?”
“You grumpy know-it-all, you have to know that sometimes you’re wrong even when you argue over it with such righteousness… and no, it’s not the same thing.”
Howie wraps his arms around Imelda, “Fine,” he said, “You’re right. You’ve always been. Let’s keep this little goblin.”
“What should we name him?” Imelda asks.
Howie forms a grin, “How about Sharth, because he looks like one?”
Imelda frowns and stares at him.
He wipes off a sweat on his forehead, “H-how about Farth… we have to keep up the naming tradition alive. Garth, Hearth, and Barth; those are the names we came up right?”
Imelda’s blank expression pulsates an aura that makes Howie and Arys uncomfortable.
“W-what? He smells like one and it’s funny…”
Imelda ignores him and carries Arys again.
Kill him! He is horrible at giving names!
Imelda contemplates and gazes almost fondly at Arys’ eyes. Realizing the tenderness of the moment, Howie rests his arms around Imelda to hold her tightly. They are smiling, they are happy.
“How about Arys?” she said, “Arys. That sounds right.”
Arys… Is that my name? Wasn't that my name since?
“Arys? Why not Aryath or something…”
“I don’t know… I can feel it… It’s the name, his name, the name that we should give,” she replied while embracing Arys, “He’s special.”
