Donare Donum: The Gift Giver's Chronicle

I drifted in the center of a terrible void, the darkness so tangible that it seemed to congeal into a thick, oily sludge that threatened to suffocate me. The only thing that kept me alive was the fire that burned within my heart, so hot that I could barely think. I don’t know long I wandered through that void, but eventually I felt my fear recede, the heat of the flame diminishing along with it.

I opened my eyes to nothing but darkness all around me, again, but this time I knew the dark was harmless. I sat up, yawning, and wondered what time it was. My room had a window, of course, but it was still dark outside as well, which was a novel experience. I was tempted to try to go back to sleep, but instead I got out of bed and sat on the floor. My body was perfectly healed from all the abuse it had taken yesterday; my newly healed skin surprisingly smooth as I ran my hand over it. With a rush of satisfaction, I flexed and felt the new strength that dwelt within.

Setting that aside for now, I went into my meditative trance with even greater anticipation. I stopped in my tracks. I couldn’t see myself, but my face must have been absolutely dumbfounded. My Giftseed had shrunk to the size that it had been before I Awakened it and retained its gray coloration. I fought back a lightning quick impulse of despair and looked further. The color itself was now more of a whitish gray and it seemed to shine with a bright, reflective sheen. What’s more, it was no longer smooth. It had two little nubs jutting out from its peak, perpendicular to one another. They almost looked like little ears.

What’s more, the seed pulsed even faster than it did before, remolding and strengthening my body in very small ways. Nothing like it did when I was using the Lightcore but still much better than before. Less like a slow, mournful flute and more like a steady, intermittent hum. Not quite as good as a normal seed, though. Based on what I was told, most people had a seed that pulsed slightly slower a normal resting heartrate. Mine was a little less than that. But it was an improvement, and I would work with what I had.

I got up, stretched, then decided to go out for some early morning exercise. I was downstairs and out the door within a few minutes, making my way through the town towards the western edge of the Mesa at a swift jog. Even the Purifiers weren’t yet up, as the sky had only just started to lighten from the pure blackness of night. Genuine sunrise was still a while away, but I still had to dodge some people who were going about their early morning tasks by the light of their lamps.

My own eyes and reflexes were good enough to let me navigate to the western village limits, passing the dueling arena where certain matters of law were still settled. Much to the chagrin of Victor and other scholars. I smiled and used what little sunlight I had to make my way the western edge before I came to the large wall that demarcated the boundaries of our home.

I immediately turned north and began tracing the edges of my home, feet pounding as I tested out the limits of my new benefits. I idly considered what my father had said to me. I never thought that I had been one to easily quit or give up, but maybe he understood me better than I realized. I really had started to let my troubles own me, more than the other way around.

As I chewed on this, I started to come up to the more desolate part of the Mesa and noticed 4 figures struggling up ahead. One of them had been cornered up against the wall by the other three and as I got closer, I quickly recognized them. A massive boy, even taller than I was and with striking gold-blonde hair, was standing opposite the cornered figure. Even without seeing his face clearly, I knew he was sneering. Across from him was a brown haired, defiant, bullet-headed little guy, maybe half the size of the hulking behemoth that he was staring down.

“Oh Al, what have you gotten yourself into this time?” I muttered, slowing down to creep behind a nearby boulder to assess the situation.

Alfred Corona was the orphaned grandson of Crazy Old Lady Corona, who headed the village council of elders. He had been raised by the honorable but eccentric elder and it had given him a determined and mischievous streak a mile long. The clown about to turn him into a smear on the wall was Samuel Aurelius.

Aurelius was a name nearly as respected in Brynn as Argentum, though its’ current iteration left a lot to be desired. The grandfather hadn’t been so bad, Steve heard, but he had died a long time ago. Samuel and his father, David, on the other hand, had cultivated a mean streak to put a ruthless predator to shame. Samuel also happened to be the toughest warrior in this generation, a year older than me, and much more respected. A ruthless streak, after all, could be hidden and power spoke with a language of its’ own.

“Now that we have some privacy,” Samuel spat out, “Why don’t you repeat your bullshit? For our education, of course.”

The two goons who flanked him chuckled stupidly on cue. I didn’t recognize them, but they were nearly as big as their boss and their presence was a part of the reason that I wasn’t already walking over there.

“I said that I would rather have a misshapen rock than you as Patriarch, you juvenile oaf! At least the rock would be better looking.” Alfred’s voice came out as clipped and impatient, like a frustrated teacher being asked a foolish question.

“Maybe you would rather have the job.” Samuel sneered back, “Then at least the children would know that even someone their own size can take the top job.”

“Oh contraire, my friend.” Alfred said, his voice changing from impatient to imperious and sarcastically indifferent, “You getting the job would show them that even someone with their intellect could be Patriarch. Sadly, our village can ill afford to be run by an overpowered four-year-old.”

They bickered back and forth for another few minutes, Samuel getting angrier and angrier before I sensed a change in his voice.

“Perhaps I should show you what a Patriarch could do with impertinent little shits like you.” Samuel chocked out, clearly about to finally lose his temper.

“A good idea.” Alfred said, raising his voice even louder. “In fact, I wish the future Patriarch would teach you a similar lesson!”

I’m smart enough to know my cue. I immediately dash out from my hiding place, sprinting with everything that I had at Samuel. To his credit, he whirled around quickly to face me, but I covered the distance between us even faster than I had expected. I jumped and used my momentum to deliver a two-footed flying kick straight to the man’s chest, sending him careening back right towards the wall.

Al had already moved out of the way, and he struck at the back of the blonde hair boy’s leg as he sailed past him, sending the man right to the ground. Wordless, Al and I bolted away from the goons towards the town, maneuvering between the various boulders and debris that populate the northern portion of the Mesa. Neither they nor Samuel could do anything with witnesses.

We got away easily, thanks to Samuel being dazed enough not to start barking orders quickly and the utter lack of initiative on the part of his goons. Al and I sprinted down the smooth roads of northern Brynn, dodging the early morning workers as we went, before finally coming to a stop in one of the alleyways.

He was gasping for breath like a fish out of water after that long sprint, while I was only puffing lightly. “I would love to find another one of those.” I muttered under my breath, thinking of the round golden gem the old man had given me. I was stronger than Alfred beforehand anyways, what with him being an Explorer with a Gift for Hearing, but not this much stronger.

When he finally began to catch his breath, I asked:

“They aren’t following us, right?”

They shouldn’t be, but it paid to be cautious. He shook his head with a grin, still panting but more slowly now:

“I would know to footsteps of those lunkheads anywhere. We lost them awhile back.”

Now that that was done with, I put on a reproachful face and glared at my second oldest friend:

“You are going to get yourself killed, you know. A little restraint in what you say would do you some good.”

He held onto his unrepentant grin and waggled his eyebrows. Putting on the same joking and imperious voice he used before, he said “Worry not my friend! I have you to protect me, don’t I? I hear most danger before it finds me, anyways.”

He dropped the voice and grin, then, and went on more seriously:

“Bad men thrive when good men do nothing. That’s what Gran always says, anyways, and she’s probably right on this one. Someone needs to stand up to Aurelius and my tongue is the only weapon I have. Maybe if I get him to say something stupid, people will realize who he truly is.”

“I hope you’re right.” I murmur.

It had started to rain again. A light drizzle that accompanied a gray dawn. I soon said my goodbyes to Al, who also needed to go to school, and made my way to class.