5 Child

The story started on that stormy night. A lot happened before that but that night was special. It was more of a history than a story only. After a Primordial Grandmaster was born again as a child. Hope was once again reignited as he will carry the burden that was given to him by the God of this world.

The God rejoiced but the enemies also hunted him down. Taking advantage of his helplessness at the moment. Not wanting to wait for him to become a thorn on their side when the time comes. They should uproot the newly growing seed while early. Not waiting for it to become a full grown tree.

Located on the village at the edge of the human settlements, the storm rammed the clustered buildings with its strength and the wind carried a whooshing sound as the denizens heard them from the inside wherever buildings they were. Raindrops went sideways as the thunderclap resounded and a flash of lightning was the aftermath.

Splashing of feet were heard as every step was hasty on the murky puddled brick road. Hoarse and weakened breath was let out as a woman traversed while in the storm and every lightning showed her otherworldly beauty for a moment.

Auburn hair was disorganized after all those running and the wind. Pale skin with rosy pink lips, round face with sharp brown eyes, and sharp nose. A circlet was on her head even with a commoner's clothes.

Her dress was brown but a reddish hue dyed her chest and back. Drops of red were trailing her path.

It was not important for her, as she carried something more important. It was a closed basket covered with cloth and a child was sleeping inside.

She saw guards nearby and they were on post duty while waiting for the storm to pass. A huge tent has torches burning on its spiked fences while in the rain. Two of them were at the entrance and were clad in full armor and had the spitting image of a Paladin. Running while calling out to them.

Adorned with full armors, helms were dull on top and only the eyes and mouth were not covered. Even the nose had protection. Weapons varied in their specialty from swords and hammers. Two-hander and one-handers mixed in the fray. Others have shields on them while talking inside the tents.

"Dear sirs! Please help me and my child!" she pleaded.

The guards were alerted, and they responded after a second of digesting what she said.

"Can you explain what the situation is ma'am?" asked their leader.

"Assassins will kill me and the child! I am desperate and only you Paladins can help! I will give you gold for your service. Take that as a mission," she announced.

"No ma'am, we are already paid for our job. That is enough, but I think we should draw our weapons already. They are here," their leader said as he covered the lady.

"Them? That fast?" she muttered.

In their opposite direction, they saw silhouettes of robed men. Armored with spiked shoulder pads protruding their robes. Helms was sinister-bearing with crowned thorns and spikes on the cheeks of the helm. Others were fully armored with thorns and were sticking out of their robes. All were colored with dark steel and blood. Making their robes full of holes. The Paladins immediately went to walk toward them. Their leader looked sideways and spoke.

"We will stall them, you go run. I think we are not enough to give you much time but I hope you can leave here immediately."

She immediately went for a run. Clashing of opposing forces began and they all went for the kill. The lady on the other side hastily went to the residential district.

Went to the nearest house and was hastily pounding on the doors; asking for help. Asking for each of them to accept the baby. One man opened their door and stared at her with great disgust.

"You dare disturb our sleep! Go away!" the burly man bellowed with all his might.

"Please, just the child!" she pleaded.

"I don't want another mouth to feed! Shoo!" He then closed the door.

She can only weep as she hastily finds another house. But she was begging in tears this time. Her heart took all the courage she can get within her as she needed it. Her heart was unfailing and fear was not seen in her eyes.

Door to door, another one and another one, one by one shut. But this time, she felt weaker and weaker deep inside. Not only by her wounds but by the people that rejected her child. It was some time that she needed a breather, panting after all those running.

Trailing towards the slums, she laid her back on a wall in a dark damp alley. Opening the basket was a child sleeping soundly despite all that commotion that happened.

"My cute baby is still asleep after all that? Mommy is proud of a good boy. Mommy will get some rest. Baby, I am just taking a nap okay?" she said to him then stared at the whooshing wind above.

One last breath and then she smiled while looking at her innocent baby's face. Soon after, she closed her eyes. Never to open them up again. The booming sound of thunderclap was once again heard. Adding to the gloom were bad omens and tidings were felt while in the storm.

The storm still brewed and the fight was still at a stalemate. Paladins were not easily beaten. They took time before they made their numbers on them. Making the assassins forcefully retreat with the increasing numbers of wounded on their side.

"The Dark Fellowship will mark this day and will take revenge on this embarrassment. Remember!" one robed man announced upon their retreat.

Soon after the death of a lady in the alleys, saw one beggar who has a cane and a long goatee. Upon tapping his cane on her, she didn't respond but limply crashed her body to the floor beside her. It came to pass that a burst of a cry from a babe was heard. He peeped on the basket on her lap and saw a child indeed!

"Good heavens! She has a child with her on her deathbed!" The old man jolted.

Taking care of him will be a tad harder for a beggar like him but the man saw a child without a parent. Or even the babe's parents were killed while protecting him. He carried the child with him in his arms and covered him with a cloth. Leaving the place with a last glance at the cold body of the mother.

Upon reaching the place he was huddling, several streets and intersections from where they came from, a damp alley with a hole as an entrance. Ragged curtains were swiped with the back of his hand and there appeared a hidden place with a fire pit in its center. Several cook pots and steel cups were hung in the makeshift kitchen.

The old man gathered several twigs and started a fire with his flint. Several sparks and it caught fire. The old man breathed and rubbed his hands while also warming up the babe beside the fire. He bought milk in the morning and boiled it. Let it simmer then rested.

"Child, you must be one of the unluckiest. You will not meet your parents anymore and that saddens me. But don't worry, you will live long. Even without me, I assure you that."

He made him drink the milk and then let the night pass beside the fire. They began the day in a beggar's life on the streets or sometimes in the market.

"Please ma'am sir! Just for the milk of the child." He said in a weakened old voice as he went to show the child sleeping on his hands. Covered in a cloth hung on his shoulders. Others paid attention and others did not. They struggled to live and all his earnings went for his milk.

It utterly made the old man sick and weakened. Still, they went begging. The child became one year old and he was also practicing the craft. Opening his palm while giving his hands to the passersby. Others were touched and were regarding him as cute and so a mere silver or copper wouldn't hurt that much for the child.

Then it soon come to pass that the babe started to practice walking. The old man was clapping his hands to let him walk toward him. Only to step towards his goaty and pulled it off. The kid started to talk and the old man was deeply happy about what he was saying.

"Give me money!" he shouted. The old man can only laugh at him.

Their daily routine was to beg on the day and travel to their favorite place, the milk vendor. The babe was sitting on his shoulders and was pointing out bread, pastries, clothes, even swords, and armors. Having the daily need for food and milk was enough for the two. A happy simple life and it was like a breeze.

Years went by and the old man caught sickness only to lay in the damp alley. Coughing and weakened breathing were what he can only hear. The kid was now three years old and he didn't understand life and death. He hoped that he gets better but death was a terrifying thing, especially for an innocent child.

"I will get better, don't worry," Coughing then soon was heard.

"Okay,"

"You know kid if this is indeed my last. At least I want you to know that life became better with you arriving in it. My last days were much worth it with you around. I can't imagine myself dying alone in this damp alley. Even if I will not be with you anymore, you will live long.

"Live your life to the fullest and be what you want to be. You can be a hero, you can be a commoner, or even anything you want. Don't be like me a beggar for the rest of your life. As for my last instructions, I wanted to be cremated. Gather wood and sticks and burn my body. You can have the barrel as your bed and also this place. I need to sleep, for now."

The kid just hiccuped as tears welled from his eyes. Starting to weep after he realized the old man stopped breathing. He put a blanket on him and lit a candle. He has no relatives and no families.

Only a candle was what the child can offer for his burial. He burned the body at a funeral fire. The fire burned and it was his last memory of the one who raised him.

He can't let the worms eat him instead. Fire reflected in his eyes and it was burning with courage. He was then alone ever since.