2 Farewell
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"Master... P-Please, survive..."
What seemed to be an injured creature placed a small basket in front of its panting form. Gasping for air wasn't enough to keep its lungs and heart beating for more time to live.
A tiny hand reached out to the dampened fur of the huffing creature. It jolted a bit when it sensed the contact of the infant softly patting its crimson-dipped fur. It was as though its so-called master knew of the creature's sadness to leave the former behind.
The creature's gaze softened. Though it may look like no more than a passing black fog to outsiders, it would still be its master first family–– her kin. A paw returned the female's touch, gently brushing against the infant's own palm.
Dim lights encompassed the being as it changed its form–– a human–– a man smiled softly and eyed down the young girl in his arms. "It's" a "he," apparently. His lips parted to say another word, but none came out.
Instead, a tear escaped his xanthous eyes.
"M-Master..."
The man coughed blood before he could even continue his speech to the infant who knew nothing of what the former spoke of.
"Forgive me, young Master. I cannot accompany you further on this journey..."
The man's voice was faint. It slowly went away with the breeze that passed by. The name embedded on her mellow snow-kissed attire wasn't the last thing that the man gazed at.
His master's bright azure vision.
The tear that dripped down–– a sorrowful smile replaced the once solemn look of his visage. His much larger fingers brushed against the young girl's plump cheeks.
"Forgive me... Master..." he repeated quietly. The man gathered the last of his remaining energy and stood up, using the nearby tree to lean his weight on.
"..." he voiced nothing to the girl's incoherent mumbles. He found it adorable as he couldn't hold in the curve up his lips.
"I can no longer take care of you..." he lamented on his own, tucking away stray white strands of his hair behind his ears.
Seconds after seconds, minutes long was his walk as they slowly turned into hours. He considered it a miracle that he even made it to a village he never expected to be there in the first place.
'No humans are in sight...' the man kept to himself, looking left and right with every last bit of energy he had. His tow-stained vision searched for a certain building–– one that most would leave their children to be taken care of.
"I'd rather not do this. However, I have no other choice..." His voice got more hoarse when a trail of scarlet lined down the edge of his lips.
'Where is this "church" I often hear of...? I do believe that humans often left their unattended children there...'
He ventured within the oddly deserted-looking village–– no, it wasn't left behind. The warm golden lights emerging from the blurry windows were enough to convince him that humans lived in the misty place, after all.
'There it is.'
His sight landed on the particular building he was looking for. An old-looking church. It wasn't the best one, but he could ask for nothing more. All he needed was for his beloved young master to survive.
The blood-stained man limped his way to the entrance of the said church. Eyeing the wooden door, his chrome eyes landed on two baskets in front of the door.
"Oh? Human children?"
One with ash-blonde hair and another with a midnight-stained head. "How adorable..." the man cooed to himself.
At the small wails of the girl in his cradle, the limping man exclaimed softly of his original intent. "R-Right..."
He placed the female down with the other two boys. After one last brush of the infant's head, the white-headed man exhaled a deep sigh.
"Humans and their selfishness... To even forlorn their young children–– how the world has come to a dark turn."
The nameless man gazed at the other two kids. There was a chance that the other pair was the same age as his own master.
"I pray that the two of you will survive this cruel world, as well. This is... my goodbye to you, Master..."
At the expected rustles of the trees from the nearby forest, the man stood up abruptly. The winds were raging and the air went frigid, stabbing daggers to the core of his soul.
With the last click of a tongue, the man stood up and left the three abandoned children with one last word.
The steps of the man's bare feet digging holes into the ground, the cackles of the flames he emitted from both hands, the trails of crimson he left staining his supposedly white form–– the man went away into the darkness and became that former creature once more.
Scarlet remains faded away into nothing but air, as though there were no trails of blood ever-present there. The man disappeared into the woods with his last two words echoing through the cold, misty air.
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"Farewell, Master."
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It was cold.
The statue on top of a gargantuan skull by the village stared down at the said place with its stone-cold gaze. A grimoire by the stone boy's hand and a free one on another. It stood straight and proud above a three-eyed skull of what seemed to be a demon's.
The blanketing mist around the village didn't make it any better for the three kids left in front of the church. Only after the wails of their saddened breaths that a man emerged from behind closed doors.
"Father Orsi Orfai" was what everyone knew him as. The somewhat grizzled state of his hair made him looked better than black hair did. Hazel orbs looked down on the three children wailing for warmth in the comfort of their own baskets.
The father crouched down by the kids, lightly folding up the black sleeves of his priest robe.
"Here we go again..." he muttered out loud, grunting as he attempted to lift three baskets at the same time.
Though he barely made it into the room when the ash-blonde infant tried to kick him in the face, Father Orsi made it into the common room of the church, where a blazing fireplace lit up at the snap of his finger.
He placed the trinity on a nearby desk. The round table he used for his daily reading wouldn't do–– it's too small.
"There, there..." Father Orsi calmed the crying babies down, keeping the stacks of books on the round table neatly as he went back to the infants. He then continued to mutter softly, "There you are."
His words were soft, yet they could hear him clearly. That warm, kind voice rang through their ears, eliciting a small giggle from the only female in the group. Father Orsi chuckled lightly in return as well, amused that the young girl could react to his words.
"You three finally calmed down," he said to himself in slight exhaustion, positioning himself onto a better spot to get a good look at the three babies he found in front of the church.
After years of taking care of it, he had never once received gifts such as babysitting–– no, he wouldn't call it "babysitting" if it meant to take care of the three for lives.
He was slightly vexed–– but at the same time, warmth filled his entire being. 'I guess it wouldn't be so lonely around here, huh?'
Sighing, Father Orsi looked at them with curiosity veiling his vision.
The boy on the right with hair as dark as night. It was coupled with his fairly pale complexion that one would mistake the boy to be from a foreign land. The fair skin the boy donned contrasted with the short pitch-black locks he owned.
Beside him, was a pendant, lying peacefully with the glimmers of its azure form. Father Orsi stared at it wordlessly, deciding from the very beginning that what belongs to them, he wouldn't take.
Another on the far left was also a male, just like the first one. But instead of a hair that rivalled even the darkest skies, this particular one had ashen-stained locks, as though the black was mixed in with the white of moon.
The wide toothy grin he had in his sleep amused the father to no end when the latter returned it with his own curve of his lips. Father Orsi combed his goatee softly and looked at the last infant.
A female, this time.
As if the shades of colours began to lighten up, the female had hair that was as white as snow. Her plump cheeks reddened softly as she mumbled gleefully in her sleep–– a peaceful dream that ignored all other chaos in this world.
One would even think that this particular infant got drowned in the snow with her oddly white complexion. White hair, fair skin, who knew if her eyes were white or not. Wrapped beneath that fluffy cream blanket was the warmth emitting from a dreaming infant–– what a sight to see.
The man bent down to their height on the table to get a clearer view of their features. "Are they siblings... or perhaps triplets?" Father Orsi muttered to himself, frowning a bit from thinking too hard.
Looking back and forth between either of the two boys and the only female in the group, he concluded that they're neither siblings nor triplets.
"No, they're not. They look too different from each other."
A drool hung down the side of the ash-blonde's mouth, connecting with the surface of his bedding as he had muttered out incoherent words of his dreams. Meanwhile, the other two were sleeping as peaceful as ever, their visage looking like the calmest of winds and seas.
Father Orsi looked at the latter two and continued his soliloquy with his hands below his chin. "These two are rather calm..."
The soundlessly sleeping pair was the quietest infants he had ever seen. Even the children of the village were never as quiescent as them both.
"But this one..."
The man wasn't even going to finish his sentence at the sight of the ash-blonde-haired baby grabbing his cheeks and laughing to himself. An amused snicker was elicited from the father's lips.
"... seems like he has a lot of spunk."
The priest hummed and had a good look at all of them. He then murmured, "First of all, they look nothing alike..."
From the black hair one donned, to a somewhat grey hair, their gradients ended up at the female's white tresses. A lopsided smile made its way to the father's face as he combed his goatee with an amused look.
He then reached out his hand to the black-haired one's blanket, opening it to find the infant's name embedded neatly on the upper right side of his light-toned shirt. "'Yuno,' huh?" Father Orsi muttered out loud, nodding to himself in content.
It was as though he was relieved that he needn't name the three babies himself. If he would to name them, he wouldn't know what crazy ideas that would pop up first thing first in his head.
"What about these other two..." the man uttered once more, seemingly not done with talking to himself. It wouldn't be considered talking to the infants if they're sleeping now, would it? "Hmm, 'Asta...'" The man smiled to himself.
There was one last infant to be checked.
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"'Xierra...' What a unique name you have there, Xierra. My tongue could never get tired of saying it." Father Orsi smiled to himself in satisfaction–– all three had their own names. "What lovely names the three of you have..."
The man braced his hands on his hips and the corners of his lips curved up, even more, forming a warm smile that one would shield their eyes at. "The three of you don't need to worry any longer. Starting today, this is your home..."
Father Orsi's larger hand reached out to hold the three but was cut off by Xierra hugging it before he could even move to the other boys. His smile softened as he continued his words with the warmth that every child had ever wanted.
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"... Xierra, Yuno, Asta."
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Fifteen years later...
"The Wizard King has returned!!!"
"Once again, he succeeded in the Magic Knights to defeat the invaders!!!"
"There cheers for our Wizard King!!!"
Cheers erupted from the crowds within the Royal Capital. With their fists raised high, they welcomed the returning Wizard King and the Magic Knight Squads trailing right behind him.
Their roars, their cheers–– the dissonance of their energetic yells resounded throughout the kingdom, even to the rural village of Hage right by the sides.
Spades that had been digging the ground, grinding for some depths into it stopped moving as the farmers halted their work to look at all the chaos erupting from afar.
"The Royal Capital is quite rowdy today," one of the farmers pointed out with the shaft of his shovel in his hands.
Another agreed and continued, "So much magic to celebrate. It seems like the Wizard King made a triumphant return."
"The Wizard King?" a lighter voice emerged from behind the two conversing men, belonging to a young female's.
They turned around and lightly greeted the girl who had volunteered to work by the fields, the golden-tinted crops safely cradled in her small hands.
"Yep! This kingdom exists thanks to the generations of Wizard Kings who have protected us." They all stared at the statue of the first Wizard King by the massive demon skull that lied by the outskirts of the village.
To compare it with the Royal Palace, that building's highest tower wouldn't even reach the third eye of that beast's skull.
"Oh, by the by, good work again today, Xierra. We'll be giving out some of these crops to you, so make sure you share them with the rest of the kids!" the older-looking man stated with hearty laughter, making sure to restrain himself from patting the female too harsh.
"A-Ah, you don't need to do that! Just the usual amount is quite fine!" Xierra stuttered out in hesitation, wondering if it'll be all right for her to just have more of the results than the farmers who had been working hard to take care of them.
That was her response, as always.
The other man laughed along as well. "Don't be so selfless, Xierra. You helped us with the intent to lessen Father Orsi's burden, didn't you?"
After the quiet nod from the said female, the man continued his words, "Then just take 'em. We have loads of them this year, giving out more than usual won't be a problem."
"Gahahahah! True, true! Ever since you volunteered to help, these wild kids had been growing gold each month!" the older man stated, gesturing over to the stack of crops Xierra held. "I would've wanted to give you more if I could!"
"E-Eh? No, that wouldn't be necessary, sir! You also have a family to feed!" Xierra laughed nervously and politely declined the man's offer. Even if she knew that she could've just took the man's offer, but she knew better.
The village was one of those places located by the far side of the Clover Kingdom. To say the economics of the village was stable, she would be lying. Everyone has a family to feed. Xierra wouldn't dare to hog all the crops by herself just because she helped out.
"I knew you would say that," the man sighed and looked downwards for a moment and closed his eyes, expecting this kind of reply from the girl.
For the few years she had been helping, Xierra had been nothing but loyal and kind to them–– she even helped carry some of the crops to the storehouse every day.
"Just take 'em this time, kid. Consider it a bonus for your hard work, gahahahah!" the man laughed his words away, earning him a sweatdrop from the girl. Before she could even reply, the male cut her off first, "I–– no, we insist! Take it, kid."
"That's right, Xierra. It isn't often you get these many crops after someone just began helping us. Consider it as a thank you from us, farmers," the other man spoke softly, giving the girl a closed-eye smile. "You're like our good luck charm or something."
"Hahaha, I'm nowhere that useful. That was just an exaggeration," Xierra mumbled the last part in silence, giving the men her usual smile. "Well then, I will gratefully accept these then. You have my thanks."
"Hah! I told you before, it is us that have you thank you––"
Just as the older man was about to finish his merry sentence, a familiarly obnoxious yell rang out loud that split their ears into half.
"ONE DAY, I'LL BECOME THE WIZARD KING..."
"What the..." one man managed to utter out before the yeller finished his sentence. "... AND MAKE YOU HAPPY!!!"
"Oh, it's that lad from the church again."
Xierra stifled an amused laugh at the man's dead tone. He wasn't even bothering to show his annoyance as this was already a daily routine for them to hear Asta's obnoxiously loud yell–– no, the word "loud" couldn't even compare to the ringings they felt in their ears after hearing such volume.
"THAT'S WHY, PLEASE MARRY MEEEEEE!!!"
The white-haired female could only sigh defeatedly at her foster brother's odd antics. "Farewell! Good luck with the field."
She gave the two men an apologetic smile before waving goodbye, taking her share of the crops with her. They weren't light, but they weren't particularly heavy either.
'I think I can make it home to hear their bickers again,' Xierra thought in amusement, giggling at the memories of Asta and Nash's continuous arguments.
"Up you go," the girl huffed and positioned the basket full of crops and pieces of Nomotatoes in her arms, attempting to balance her steps as she walked.
With the hums of her soft voice, the melodious tunes accompanied every step she took. The breeze that passed by brushed through the strands of her snow-dipped tresses. At each breath that she took, the winds replied along.
At last, she arrived at the church she grew up in. It was quite the sight, seeing a certain ash-blonde getting hit by a giant hand made out of water. Sister Lily's magic was beautiful to see, to the girl herself, even if she mostly saw the nun use it on Asta who always pesters her.
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It wasn't a rare sight, but it all felt just right.
That's right, it's all just... right... Wait, why did it feel right? No, no, something's missing. Xierra felt like something was missing right then and there–– what was it?
What was this tight feeling in her chest called?
The sight of the laughing children, Yuno beating Asta to drying the laundries, Nash and the latter's bickering session that seemed to have no end–– what was it that's missing...?
Having no answer to her inner queries, Xierra decided to keep those thoughts to herself and left them at bay. There should be some time for her to figure out things. Today had just been a normal day, just like always.
There was nothing weird, nothing out of place. These events were just the smallest normal things that happened every day within the Village of Hage. It was her life–– the daily routine that she had seen over and over again.
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That's... right...
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Where had she seen these scenes before...?
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To be continued...
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