Eventide Scriptures I - The Shattering of an Era

Chapter 21.1 - The Weight of Sacrifice (Part I)

The bright light made Eiran's head throb, and he closed his eyes again. Moving his body, he felt as though his nerves were about to snap – a pain all too familiar to him by this time.

After a while, Eiran took his time to reopen his eyes. The canvas ceiling fluttered and sunlight piercing through its tears. The hot wind blowing through the wall gaps told him he was still in the desert.

This small room, devoid of furniture, was bordered by walls on three sides and a drab curtain as a room divider. The walls, made of poorly cut clay blocks, allowed sand to sprinkle through their cracks. He lay on a mat, his entire body wrapped in bandages made from cool, broad leaves.

Thirst overpowered his pain. He reached for a clay jug beside him with both hands and drained its water. He had not known water could taste so sweet and refreshing.

"Dear Eiran, you are awake!" A gray-haired old woman parted the curtain. Her body was like bones wrapped in skin, and her worn clothes only added to the neglected appearance.

"Where is this? How do you know me...?" His tongue was still stiff, smacking against his mouth as he spoke.

The old woman approached and picked up the empty jug. "This is Aroi village. Dear, you have been delirious many times. When my grandchild asked for your name, you responded with that." Her trembling voice hinted at her age.

"Th... thank you... for saving me." He stood up, one deliberate movement after another.

The old woman used the jug to scoop water from a large jar in the next room, then handed it to him. "It was my granddaughter Roa who found you half-buried by the sandstorm and saved you. You owe your thanks to her."

Eiran lowered the jug from his lips, again emptying its contents. As he was about to speak, a teenage girl interrupted, parting the canvas door cut from the same fabric as the curtain.

"Nanna! Nanna Raraku! I–" She gasped upon seeing him and swallowed her words. She had bright orange hair, wearing attire similar to his. It was only now he realized he was dressed in clothes woven from plant fiber, adorned with dark red geometric patterns and tied with hemp ropes at the waist.

"Dear Eiran, this is Roa. Roa, he wishes to say something to you."

Eiran cleared his throat, trying to stand as firm as possible, and bowed his head. "Thank you, Miss Roa, for saving me."

"Roa did more than just save you," Raraku said. "She treated your wounds, changed your clothes, cleaned your body, and even gave you water mouth-to-mouth when–"

"Nanna!" Roa pursed her lips, her eyebrows furrowed, almost touching each other.

Raraku took a bundle of cloth from Roa's hand and gave it to him. "You must be very hungry. Eat this."

The piece of bread in the bundle was too small to fill his palm. It was made of coarse wheat, baked with its husk. No longer on the brink of death, he only now realized how hungry he was. He devoured everything in two bites, almost choking, then washed it down with a sip of water.

"Dear, I know it's not enough. You can–"

"Enough! It's enough, Nanna!" Roa cut in. She grabbed his hand and, without waiting for his consent, pulled him outside. "Let me show you our village."

The sunlight outside was even more intense, and it took a moment for him to adjust. He was in a village built around an oasis. Its surface shimmered like gems under the shade of palm trees. A cylindrical Artifica instrument was embedded askew in the center of the oasis. Moss covered half of it, but it still functioned, evident from the blinking green lights.

"Hey, you." A heap of string necklaces with colorful stone pendants clattered against her chest as Roa turned. Her face was sour.

"Is something wrong, Miss?"

"Don't call me miss! I'm Roa. Call me Roa."

Roa's light brown eyes were full of life, a kind of eyes that served as a beacon of hope in hard times. "You foolish boy, you know nothing of our ways! When someone offers you food, you must share it. You should have given half to Nanna. She hasn't eaten since yesterday, you know! And here you are, asking for more!"

Again, a boy.

"Is that so? I'm sorry, I didn't know...."

"Hmph, now you know. Come, follow me." Once again, she pulled his hand without consent. He followed her with a limping gait. Her steps were wide even though she did not walk fast. Contrary to her demeanor, her hands were so thin that the indentations on her wrists were visible.

The houses of this village were makeshift, built from clay blocks with additional wooden frames and plant fiber canvas. Dozens of inhabitants, old and young, men and women, all bore faces like soldiers fleeing after a lost battle.

Eiran now understood. They were part of the insular tribes – small survivor groups from the Chaos Era Two and Perpetual Night War who never joined the new order. They lived in the no-man's land between cities.

Roa stopped at the hut without walls with dry leaves as its roof. The hot sand made him feel like walking on glass shards. In the hut, which she called a workshop, a dozen people were working on various crafts – baskets, clay pots, bowls, mats, carvings, and necklaces.

"Auntie! Auntie! Please give this glutton sandals."

As he tightened the straps of the processed leather sandals, she introduced him to everyone. "This glutton here is called... what was your name again? Oh right, Eiran! Strange name."

"Where are you from? Your dialect is strange too," a teenager asked.

"I'm from... far north." He was not lying, though 'far' meant across the Inner Sea.

"Enough, enough, no more talking," Roa said. "I brought you here so you can earn your keep. Those with idle hands should not even wipe their butt with those hands."

A woman's scream interrupted their conversation. She was yelling in a native language Eiran did not understand, pointing towards the outskirts of the village. However, by looking in the same direction, he then understood.

Two small children were running towards the village, chased by a six-legged insectoid monster.

He and Roa ran to their aid without hesitation. Pain surged throughout his body. With just eye contact, they understood each other's plans. He picked up one child, while she took the other, and they both turned back towards the village.

"We're not fast enough!" Eiran said.

"We don't need to reach the village. Look at those stones! As long as we can cross them, the monster won't chase us!"

He saved his questions for later. He ran as fast as he could towards the line of stones encircling the village. Roa reached them first, and he a moment later. He and the child he was carrying fell to the ground.

The monster's front legs, shaped like hooks, lifted. Eiran turned and shuffled backward, kicking sand while the hooks snapped between his legs. However, as she said, the monster stopped before crossing the boundary. They watched from outside the line for a while, buzzing, then left.

"The Artifica instrument in the middle of the oasis keeps them out," Roa explained, helping him to his feet. For a moment, he had forgotten his pain, but now he chose to remain lying down. Some of the Artifica instrument was still operational, and these devices often caused unexpected effects.

The mother ran to hug both children. She then hugged Roa, and Eiran next, who was still lying down. She repeated a word in native language that seemed like 'thank you,' though he was not sure because her hug was strong enough to break a neck.