My child, my life!
917 Words
Disclaimer: This is a work of fantasy fiction. All characters, events, and cultures are entirely fictional and do not reflect real-world beliefs or systems.
“What?! You are making a dumb decision, Zafar!”
“The gods will strike again,” he replied, voice cracking. “I can’t lose anymore people in my life. This is the least I can do for Marida.”
“You are a new father,” she reminded him.
“I’ll learn,” he said firmly. “A nurse will be with me at all times. My son will be safe with me and everyone until I return to Urla.”
The old nurse fell silent. She exhaled sharply, taking the child from his arms. Her hands trembled slightly as she studied the baby.
“I knew you were stubborn,” she muttered, “but risking your child’s life was the last thing I expected from you.”
“Carla—”
“You can’t just drag a child into danger, Zafar!” she snapped. “Your wife’s soul would weep at your recklessness. Damn it, don’t you understand?!”
Zafar didn’t answer. He paced the room, running a hand through his long, dark hair.
“I was chosen to kill a human when I was seven,” he said softly. “But I’ve hardly harmed anyone in my life. I never enjoyed violence. I don’t want to risk my son—but if the gods believe I have the strength to protect an entire clan, then I can protect Ryan too.”
“Zafar…”
“Send a nurse to the gate,” he ordered quietly and walked out.
Outside, the cries of mourners echoed through the ruins of Ringa. The once-thriving second home of his people now lay in ashes—a shattered memory of what his father swore to protect.
Arial stood nearby, trembling as she tried to hold back tears. She gripped him tightly, her entire body shaking with grief.
“Dad trusted me… and I failed him,” she sobbed.
“It’s okay,” he said gently, brushing her tears away. “I’ll make everything right. The two women shouldn’t be far now.”
Sniffling, she wiped her face and summoned a map with a flick of her hand. It hovered in the air, glowing softly.
“The forests are deadly at night,” she said. “Their human city is 10,000 miles away. If they keep moving, they’ll reach it in a month.”
“I won’t let them,” Zafar said darkly.
“We should intercept them and take one alive,” she suggested. “The weaker one, not her guard.”
“Arial, you’re not coming with me,” he said.
Her heart sank. “If you think I’m letting you do this alone, you’ve lost your mind.”
“The gods might strike again. Our parents are still in Urla. You have to protect them.”
Arial stared at him, frustrated. She knew his mind was made up.
“…Fine,” she whispered. “But I’ll be watching you through my scrying ball. If they lay a finger on you—”
She was interrupted by a young nurse approaching with the baby. Zafar adjusted the travel sack on his back, then leaned forward to kiss Arial’s forehead.
“Be safe,” he said.
She couldn’t speak—her thoughts tangled in frustration and worry. If only she could knock some sense into him. Without saying a word, she took the baby from the nurse and sprinkled a pinch of silver dust over him. The child sneezed softly.
“You’re all overthinking this,” Zafar grumbled. “What, you think I’m incapable of being a good father?”
“A good father wouldn’t drag his child into danger,” Arial said coldly.
She gently handed the baby back to the nurse. “I’ve shielded him from dark energy and strengthened his health. He won’t fall ill or be harmed easily. But feed him well—and no water.”
The nurse nodded on his behalf.
Soon, Zafar and the nurse were walking into the forest, stepping over dead leaves beneath a canopy of whispering trees. Birds sang their eerie nighttime song.
Then, a voice slithered into the air like a curse:
[whispering] “You made a mistake taking the child. His death will be your ruin…”
[shouting] “Hey!” Zafar shouted, eyes flaring as something wild rose within him. His body tensed, muscles shifting, the edges of his beastly form threatening to emerge.
The nurse stepped back, clutching the baby tighter in fear. She had been warned—Zafar was unpredictable.
The child began to cry.
The sound pierced through Zafar’s anger like a blade. His rage dropped. His body froze. Then he dropped to his knees in shame.
What was he doing?Why was he doing this?
“We… we can still go back,” the nurse whispered, gently.
Zafar looked up at her. Shame flooded his face. He nodded slowly.
“You’re right,” he said. “I can’t risk my son. I was foolish.”
He stood, turned back the way they came—
BOOM!
A bolt of lightning crashed down from the sky, striking the trees behind them. Flames erupted. Trees collapsed. Their only path home was blocked in an instant.
“No!” he screamed in agony.
“There’s no going back,” the voice echoed again, darker now.“Fulfill the prophecy… or everyone dies.”
- Writer
