Primordial Sage: Plight of Immortality

The sound of wind blew furiously over the roofs of the simple cottages in the unnamed village as it brought with it unbearable coldness, even though spring had already begun. Most people would rather hide in the warmth of their homes, but only a few had the choice in this matter.

Poor serfs in the village needed to make the most of their days to make a living. They didn't have time to seek entertainment or take care of their body and health. Cultivating crops, taking care of livestock, collecting firewood for the cold nights, and much more work awaited them every day.

Yet one of the fields in the village was left alone. The cottage next to it was empty too. The reason for it was that its inhabitants were at the edge of the village near the forest, digging a large and deep hole. There were three of them, one younger than the other. They were taking turns digging with the sole rusty shovel they had while trying to hide their sorrow.

The oldest one, looking no older than fifteen, pushed the shovel deep into the ground and took a big chunk of dirt which he then put down on a pile of dirt right next to the hole. He was doing it until he got tired. Then he handed over the shovel to a second oldest child who looked like he was in his early teens.

For such a young child, this labor was difficult, but he persevered as he knew this needed to be done before sunset or something bad would happen. As he sweated, he heard the high-pitched voice of the youngest of the three asking him:

"Big brother Olen, should I continue instead? You seem to be tired already." He seemed concerned about him.

"Nonsense, Little Stone, look at yourself. The shovel is even bigger than you!" Evan, the oldest of the three, scolded his younger brother, while scowling at him.

Little Stone looked into the eyes of his oldest brother and then he averted his eyes while mumbling to himself: "It's not like we will live for long if I always do nothing..."

'Sigh...'

Both Evan and Olen sighed as their saddened eyes lay on two 'objects' covered in old and dirty cloth. They knew that Little Stone was right as this and the next years would be cruel to them.

After all, they just became orphans. This year had one of the cruelest winters in the last decade or two. Count in the fact that the northern birds who usually did not migrate during winter did so this year and brought with them some nasty disease that made many of the villagers succumb to death.

Their parents were among them. The disease, now called 'Bird's Perdition,' weakened their bodies so much that they simply couldn't withstand the cold winter.

Because of that, three brothers now needed to do everything to survive. That's why even the youngest, Little Stone, who just lived through his 8th winter, needed to contribute as his older brothers could barely support themselves, let alone him.

Fortunately, Little Stone was always the tough one. That's also where his nickname came from. No matter how much he tired himself, the next day he was fresh. No matter where he got the abrasion, the next day it healed. His parents called it a miracle but most of the villagers were hostile to him believing he was either cursed or a monster in human skin.

"All right, Little Stone, I will let you shovel a little, but don't overdo it.”

“Even if you feel fine the next day, who knows if you will be in good health in the next decade. That's why most children started to help their family after their 10th winter or even later if the family was well-off. On the other hand, you are not old enough to even get your name yet..." lamented Evan as he nodded to Olen who reluctantly gave the shovel to his nameless brother.

There was a reason why the village they lived in didn't name their young children until a certain age. The mortality was always high among the children so their parents stopped naming them until their 9th winter.

Of course, most of the villagers believe that number nine was one of the magical and even ominous numbers. At the same time, they believed that names had power and if you name someone before the 9th winter then the child and their entire family would be cursed. Whether myth or reality, no one dared test fate.

As Little Stone took the big shovel from Olen's hands, he got nearer to the hole and started digging. It was arduous work for him but he lived through the worst. Although he didn't say that to anyone there was one day during this winter when he got sick and felt extremely weakened. The cold and pain he felt were so unbearable he wasn't able to sleep at night.

As he was always clever he thought in fright that he maybe caught the disease that villagers talked about recently. He didn't want to infect others and as such he got up from the 'bed,' made of cloth and straw where his brothers laid down curled up together to keep warm and went to the little barn to sleep with the livestock to keep warm as he knew that it wouldn't be affected by the disease.

Surprisingly, the next day he felt fine once again and wondered if he had just a fever or something. Even fever was dangerous without any medicine but not nearly enough as Bird's Perdition. His parents scolded him but he felt really happy at that time.

.........

After some time passed.

As they rotated themselves and continued digging, the sun got to the highest point and then descended to the west. When they finally dug a hole big enough to place their parents, they went to them. Olen and Evan took their father's body and slowly put him in his place. The same then for their mother's body.

They looked at their parents for the last time muttering a prayer and then started to bury them with the dirt they dug out. This kind of funeral was most common as most serfs did not have time or energy for something bigger. Only those that were wealthy could afford the privilege of cremation as they believed to aid the dead's spirit to more easily leave out of the body and begin its journey to the afterlife. The fear of the undead was another reason.

The brothers have never seen any undead and they didn't plan to either, so they hurried as they knew that there was a chance of the corpse of their deceased parents rising during the night. Then they took some heavy and big stones and put them on the grave they just made.

Unfortunately, this simple burial didn't lower the chance to zero supposedly. That is why they used heavier stones so the undead wouldn't be able to get out.

Once they finished, tired and dirty they got home. Unfortunately, they couldn't just go to sleep. While they fed all of their livestock in the morning most of them needed frequent feeding throughout the day. Such as dairy cow to support their milk production and young animals who needed nutrition to grow. As they neglected them today they needed to feed them at least in the evening before the sunset.

"I will go get the water. Meanwhile, Olen should go feed the livestock. Little Stone, you should get rid of your hair. They look like if you rolled together with the pigs in the mud..." Evan laughed as he tried to lighten the mood even if it was very forced.

But since both his brothers were very young he succeeded as Olen sniggered at his younger brother while Little Stone started pouting.

As they parted their ways, Little Stone took a small iron dagger and started cutting his hair that fell to his thighs. They were extremely dirty as they got in the way during digging. But he didn't care as he efficiently finished his new haircut. It was uneven and looked bad overall but as he knew his hair would be well back in the morning so he felt indifferent to it.

His hair grew so quickly that even if he cut it every day it would still reach the same length in half a day. The same went with his nails which would also grow quickly compared to normal even if not as much as his hair. He'd need to cut his hair so often that his family no longer bothered to supervise him during it even though he was a little child using a dagger.

That is one of the reasons why many villagers were hostile to him, they felt as if the beast inside the boy awakened every time they saw it. His hair looks like fur to them and his nails are like claws if he didn't cut them regularly. The cherry on top was Little Stone's blood-deep red eyes that looked as if they belonged to a bloodthirsty beast.

The only positive thing Little Stone saw in all of this is that his hair looked better than anyone else as he didn't need to wash them but cutting them is enough. On the other hand, nails were only annoying to him while his eyes were useful only for scaring children of other serfs who tried to bully him over the years.

The boy sighed as he threw his hair aside and went to lie down on their 'bed' made out of straws piled on the ground.