Chapter 1 : Birth during wartime( updated )

In 1911, in the village of Livat in the state of Stinibal, with its flat or undulating terrain filled with trees and beautiful pastures, with sand dunes near the coast, there lived an ordinary family.

"Come on, Jamila, you can do it," a voice urged.

Another voice added, "Come on, my girl, the head has appeared. You can finish this."

Jamila, in severe pain, screamed, "Aaaah! It hurts! It hurts so much! No one told me this would happen!"

With Jamila's final scream, it was replaced by the cry of the family's new member.

The midwife smiled, "It's a healthy boy. What will you name him, Jamila?"

Jassim interjected, "His name will be Solomon, like King Solomon who ruled the world."

The midwife replied, "But that's the mother's right."

Jamila, exhausted but relieved, whispered, "It doesn't matter, Auntie. What matters is that my child is safe."

Jassim beamed, "You see, woman? She won't contradict me."

The midwife, rolling her eyes, muttered, "It doesn't matter. This is your business."

As she handed the baby to Jamila to nurse, an alarm sounded, piercing the calm of the night. Suddenly, the room shook with the force of explosions, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom all around.

Jassim ran to the window, his face pale with fear. "An airship is bombing the houses!"

Hurried footsteps approached the house, followed by the door bursting open. A man in his early fifties stormed in.

"Jassim, quickly, carry your wife, and I'll carry the baby. There's no time; our country has been dragged into war," Jassim's Father commanded.

In a whirlwind of chaos, the family fled the house, finding fires raging and bodies strewn everywhere.

Jamila cried out, "Aaahhhh!" upon seeing the body of a child, its upper half missing.

Jassim, struggling to maintain his composure, said, "Don't worry, my dear. We will get through this disaster."

"Where to, father?" Jassim asked urgently.

Jassim's Father replied, "To the capital. We must escape there."

Jassim said, "I'll go prepare the carriage and horses."

Jassim's Father cautioned, "Don't rush, my son. We'll go on foot."

Jassim protested, "Why, Father? And how? Jamila is weak right now."

Jassim's Father replied, "We have no choice, my son. We can't risk being found. What about you, Umm Ayan? Will you come with us?"

Ayan's mother said, "I will come with you, Jassim's Father. I have no family to search for, and someone needs to care for Jamila and the baby Suleiman."

Jassim's Father said, "Hmm, you named your first son after the prophet Solomon..."

Jassim replied, "Yes, so he will become someone important in the future."

Jassim's Father said, "I hope so. Alright, follow me."

And so the family's journey began, attempting to cross the forest adjacent to the village.

A few days later...

Inside a forest with some trees bearing blue leaves and yellow fruits dotted with blue, Jamila was breastfeeding Suleiman for what felt like the millionth time that day.

"Jassim," she called out.

Jassim responded, "Yes, Jamila?"

"I'm hungry. Pick some of this fruit for me," she pleaded.

"You'll die if you eat it," Jassim warned.

"I know, but I'm so hungry I'd sacrifice my life for a small bite," Jamila replied.

These fruits were a type of mana fruit, deadly to non-magicians.

"But, my dear, have you noticed that our little Suleiman seems healthier than any newborn?" Jamila asked.

"What do you mean?" Jassim's Father inquired.

"I mean, Father-in-law, a newborn usually looks like a red piece of flesh, but my baby looks like he's one or two weeks old, from his facial features to his skin color," Jamila explained.

Ayan's mother added, "You're right. This is unusual. Could he be a magician?"

Jassim, with a mix of hope and happiness, said, "Yes, you might be right. My son could be a magician!"

Jamila admonished, "Why are you happy about this?"

"Why am I happy? Because if the governor finds out, my son won't spend his childhood in my arms," she lamented.

Jassim's Father, with some sadness in his voice, said, "True. The governor would send him to the high court to study there, and we would never see him again."

Jassim argued, "What's the problem? He will become an important man in the country and ensure our safety."

Jassim's Father shouted at his son, "What are you saying, you fool?" and hit him with a stick. "Do you want my grandson taken from me?"

"Ouch, that hurts," Jassim said, pausing for a moment. Seeing the sorrowful looks on his wife and father's faces, he added, "That's not what I meant. Of course, I would be heartbroken to be separated from my son. But think logically—he would have a guaranteed future and ensure survival for us and his siblings in these times."

Jassim's Father conceded, "Alright, let's continue our journey. We shouldn't waste any time."

The group gathered their belongings and prepared to move on.

Jamila complained, "But I'm still hungry. At this rate, I won't be able to keep breastfeeding Suleiman."

Jassim's Father said, "I remember a stream about half a day to the east, and the capital is further east. We'll go there first to catch some fish and refill our water skins."

As they walked towards the stream, Jassim spotted a rabbit out of the corner of his eye. He signaled everyone to stop and pointed in the direction of the rabbit.

Everyone looked silently in that direction. Jassim stealthily approached the rabbit, pounced, and managed to catch it by the ears.

Jamila cheered, "Finally, food!"

But Suleiman had a different opinion. He woke up from his nap and cried loudly.

Jamila tried to soothe him, "I'm sorry, my baby. Mama is sorry for scaring you."

Amid Suleiman's cries, Jamila asked, "Aren't you going to kill it?"

Jassim replied, "No, not until we reach the stream. We might encounter another rabbit on the way, and I don't want to spoil our meal now."

Jamila agreed, "You're right."

When they reached the stream, they had caught three more rabbits and some edible mushrooms.

Jassim's Father remarked, "I'm sure you're not a hunter, as you've been terrible at it since you were young."

Jassim, with some arrogance and jest, said, "What do you say, Father? I'm a natural-born hunter. I just never had a reason to put in the effort. But really, since when could I hunt?"

Jamila looked at Suleiman and then smiled widely, "It must be my child."

Jassim said, "Now the woman has gone mad."

Jamila insisted, "I'm serious."

"So am I," Jassim replied.

Jamila, pouting like a hamster, said, "It must be Suleiman's magic that helped us survive."

Jassim retorted, "What makes you so sure? Maybe he's not a magician, and it's just luck from the Creator."

To be continued...