Twenty-Five Years Ago
Old Serrera watched in wide horror. The incident that had happened right in front of her eyes had left her mortified! Her tired shoulders could barely sustain her own frame. Let alone another one’s.
‘But the baby weighed nothing’, she thought.
The baby, rolled in the grime. His placenta was hastily cut. Yet, the baby hadn’t cried once. It had brown hair. It was hard to tell the colour of his eyes, as the baby hadn’t even opened them. Its delicate body helplessly rested on the cold tile of the side walk.
It was a dark alley where she had found the mother. Her legs were ripped wide, and she was bleeding from waist down. It had ruined her white gown. The blood was everywhere. But the woman kept her cries stifled.
‘Maybe, she is a Scum Blood. She probably was attacked by the warriors,’ Old Serrera gulped the lump in her throat.
Her own upbringing was shabby and poor. Back in her time, there was no discrimination between the races. How long was it? Around sixty years ago, perhaps.
In her time, there were only humans and God. The humans prayed and offered numerous offerings in exchange of blessings. There were no wars. The Blue Bloods existed among them even then. But none of the cruel acts were performed. She was a Scum Blood herself.
Serrera’s father knew priests. He was a trade merchant and often delivered supplies to the Temple. They told him things in exchange of seemingly, harmless but prohibited supplies. Like liquor and smokes. That’s how they came to know about the prophecies.
Being her father’s favourite, she knew all the prophecies. Even the ones that had led to this day. This was why she was scared of the baby. But surely, the prophecy was about a Chosen One. A Blue Blood. The baby seemed to be a scum. There was no doubt in that.
“What are you doing here?” Old Serrera asked the woman.
The woman, looked too young to be a mother. She had long, silver hair and flail arms. Her face paled. Her golden eyes had sunken. She didn’t look like a Scum Blood though. The baby rested still.
‘Was it born dead?’ She thought.
“Please, take him,” the woman managed to say.
More blood spilled out. Her body trembled.
“You’ll have to excuse me, miss. I am not sure if I can help you,” Old Serrera said, hesitatingly. She was ready to cross the alley, and walk beyond the empty grounds. That should keep her safe from the red armoured warriors.
If anything, she knew that delaying herself would get her into more trouble. Even now, the baby didn’t move. The weak woman pressed the seemingly lifeless baby to her chest, and began to sob.
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Old Serrera had walked a few steps forward, trying to ignore the woman’s cry. Since when had the world become so cruel? Old Serrera had no clue. She had lived for sixty good years. But the boy had already died before he could be born.
“If you cannot raise him, at least bury him somewhere he can rest in peace,” the old woman called out. Her breath fanned. She held the baby in her arms. Her eyes were on the verge of closing. This is when Old Serrera had the change of heart.
“Fine then,” Old Serrera walked back to her. From what she had known about the world so far, she was sure that the woman wasn’t going to live for long. She spared one glance to the baby.
“I shall take him with me,” Old Serrera picked the baby, and held it to her chest. She then gave him a gentle caress on the back. But the baby wouldn’t move still.
Old Serrera didn’t spend her time consoling the baby’s mother. She knew the woman was dead.
“I am sorry,” was all that she could offer before she heard the footsteps. Her weak body supported the baby. It was just as she thought. The baby weighed nothing. When she would reach the slums, she would carefully place the baby in a woven basket before burying him in a cemetery. That indeed would be the right thing to do.
Then she heard the footsteps. She was nearly at the end of the alley, when they footsteps grew closer. She turned around to watch. The red armoured warriors stood there. They circled the woman.
“Where’s the baby?” One of them asked. His loud voice roared, echoing through the alley.
“Kill her,” his voice thundered.
Old Serrera didn’t stop on their account. Instead, she clutched onto the baby harder. Her stance was clear and wide now, despite her aching limbs. She tried to walk faster. She was a Scum Blood too. There was no telling if they won’t follow her.
She kept walking as fast as she could. Serrera passed through alleys she hadn’t known before. The fear in her eyes clouded her senses. The seemingly weightless baby seemed so heavy all of a certain.
“Here!” She heard the chirping little girl call out. She wore tattered rags. She was barely a child. A three-year-old girl. She had big brown eyes, and dirt brown hair. Dirt stuck to her ragged dress that was a bit too large for her size.
“What are you doing here, silly girl?” Old Serrera asked, her eyes watching the girl intently. This girl seemed too fearless to her.
‘Was she here all alone?’ Serrera thought.
“I am here to help the people! My mother has asked me to take people back to our place from the Capital,” she smiled, naively.
‘Just what kind of parents did she have?’ Old Serrera was worried now. It would do her no good to stand right there. Perhaps it was better to take the girl with her.
“Come child,” she urged the girl. “We should go the slums now,” she held the girl by her hand, keeping the baby closer using the other.
“We will go to your home. Maybe, we will find your parents there,” Old Serrera said, leading her to the narrow path. It was weary and dirty. In a distance, Old Serrera found others. All, wearing brown, black, or auburn hair. They were all headed for the slums.
“Granny,” the little girl giggled. “Mom will be gone for a while now. We can all have a tea party till she returns,” her thin lips turned into a wide grin.
Old Serrera’ s heart clenched, as she walked in silence.
When they reached the Slums, the little girl looked overjoyed. On the contrary, Old Serrera’s face dropped. It looked nothing like her place at the Capital.
The houses here were small, and shabby. A few of them lacked rooves. Those that had rooves were made of thin, flimsy material. The Slums weren’t built for living.
Old Serrera spared a glance at the girl, holding the baby closer. How will she tell the girl? She wondered. Either she could wait for the girl to understand it all herself, or abandon her. Just like her parents. The thought was treacherous.
“That’s my house!” The little girl clapped her hands together. Old Serrera turned in the direction the little girl was pointing to. It was bigger than the other houses. This one was built on a metal frame. It had two storeys. Both were small. Its boundaries were demarcated with fences made of twigs and woods. A small vegetable garden surrounded the house. Outside, a lazily carved board of wood hung on the door. Mortez’s. It read.
At first, Old Serrera dismissed the little girl’s enthusiasm as childish fantasies. But then, the little girl rushed in. Old Serrera tried to follow her, acutely aware of the little one in her arms. To her amazement, the girl did know the place like the back of her hand.
Her utter disbelief was alarming. Old Serrera watched the portrait that hung in the shabby living room. It was of a man, with Golden hair. And a woman, with long brown stresses. They posed together with a baby. The little girl. Underneath it was an inscription that had gone faint with time.
“Father! I am back,” the little girl screamed.
Serrera wasn’t surprised when there was no response. For a good moment, she found herself confused. Her hands rubbed the back of the baby.
“Perhaps, we could live here till they return,” she mumbled. And then, the strangest of things happened. The baby steered in her arms. Its hairy head moved. Old Serrera held him before her eyes to see if was really happening.
The baby opened his eyes. They were clear blue. His small chest heaved.
“Oh dear,” Old Serrera gasped. And strangely enough, her first thought was to name the baby, now that it was alive.
She slowly wrapped him out of the dirtied cloth his mother had wrapped him in. It was a boy. Unlike his mother, he had a brown complexion with dark hair. But his eyes could put those of the Blue Bloods’ to shame.
Old Serrera smiled at him, then. “Well then, you have lived, little Killian,” she said, pressing the baby to her chest.
