Lothar, Traetos province, Southern Avestria

After dinner, Mythra was sitting outside the homestead, staring up at the night sky. The sheer number of stars that lit the night sky had always astonished him to the core of his being. He was sitting on a staircase at the doorstep with his head tilted upwards. He was engrossed in creating the shapes out of the stars. He was startled when he felt a pat over his right shoulder.

"Don't you wish to sleep?" asked the voice. It was Aerytha. She had come to wish Mythra for the night before going to sleep.

"Yes, I'll be along," he replied, humbly. Aerytha sat beside him, her shoulder brushing on his arm. Her head could hardly reach till his chin. She glanced to look at him but Mythra's eyes were fixated upwards. Aerytha saw the wound on his forehead, which she had noticed earlier but now she was willing to act on it.

Aerytha gradually raised her hand and advanced her open palm towards Mythra's wound on the forehead. It was still swollen and the laceration was visible. Mythra slowly turned his head towards her palm. She rested her palm on the wound and after a while, her hand started glowing. A mysterious aura was emerging from her palm. Mythra felt a little sting, but in the next instant, he could feel the pain vanishing because of her touch.

Mythra wasn't surprised. Aerytha possessed a supernatural ability to heal anyone, merely by her touch. It was magical. In the next few moments, Aerytha retracted her hand and coughed, mildly. Although she was able to heal any wound magically, there was still the law of balance in nature.

Every time she healed someone, it had collateral damage on her own body. But for her, Mythra was worth that damage. As she removed her palm, the wound on his forehead had completely disappeared.

Aerytha, as opposed to Mythra, was born on an auspicious day. She was born on the first day of the month of Verkaton. But the significance of the day was because of an antediluvian light that shone in the night sky on the night of her birth. A light that was prophesied to return every One Hundred and Twenty Eight Mesha. The Avestriāns called it 'Flambila' which meant the 'Halo of peace'.

It signified that the halcyon days of the planet Systara were just at the shore. The light appeared as a milky white, nebulous object with a long protruding tail. Such a birth was considered unique and blessed.

Possibly, Aerytha was indeed born for a greater purpose, or so was the understanding of the Roshai as per her reading of the ancient scriptures. Nevertheless, she fathomed about the purpose of Aerytha's birth. Intriguingly, Aerytha was indeed blessed with a supernatural ability to heal people by simply touching them. This confirmed Roshai's belief. However, the facts about Aerytha's birth and her ability were concealed by the Roshai. The people were completely oblivious to Aerytha's auspicious birth and her inexplicable ability.

"Thank you Aerytha...Are you all right?" asked Mythra as he embraced her from the side and pulled her closer. Her head rested near his armpit. She could feel the warmth in his embrace. She could smell the musk from his garment and feel the brotherly affection that he had for her.

Mythra was loathed by all the people of his village for being born. He was held responsible for all the battles that their kingdom had lost since his birth. He became the scapegoat for all the widows to blame. He was bullied, ignored, denigrated, and faced imprecations from everyone in the village.

But at the end of the day, in his home right here, is where he felt loved. He felt joyful. All the exhaustion of the day was vanquished by Aerytha's affection, granny Roshai's love, and Herios's brotherhood.

Aerytha went inside to sleep but Mythra continued to sit outside for some time and stare at the stars. Looking at the sky made him feel that he was a part of something significant, that his existence was not futile, and that his life had a purpose which he needed to seek.

"Still watching the stars, are we?" said a voice. It was granny Roshai. After running her daily night errands, she was finally headed towards her room for getting some knap when she saw Mythra, sitting at the doorstep of the backyard. Mythra nodded affirmatively. Granny Roshai sat beside him where Aerytha was seated earlier. This time, the Roshai was the taller one among the two.

"Aerytha healed your wound?" she asked.

Mythra nodded as he touched his forehead. There was no pain anymore. "She did," he replied.

"You know, Mythra. You don't need to hide anything from me. I am your grandmother" she said, hinting at the wound. Mythra averted his eyes to avoid eye contact with the Roshai.

"I know you had some trouble with the boys," she added. Mythra glimpsed at her and snorted.

"Why does everyone hate me so much? I didn't choose to be born during the Grand Obscura" he said calmly.

"I know, Mythra. It's not your fault," she said as she patted over his back.

"You always say that. But somehow now I think it is my fault," he said in a slightly nettled tone.

"Did the soldiers lose the battles because I was born?" he asked. The Roshai was laconic and her gaze lowered as she let out a sigh.

"The people say that my birth is a doom upon the world. They call me a Caligor, the child of hatred. Am I the child of hatred, granny?" he asked, eagerly and anxiously.

"Did the gods send me here to destroy the world?" The Roshai gently stroked over his back and denied with a nod.

"Then why did my parents abandon me?" he asked. His tone was quite serious. The Roshai inhaled deeply and stared into his eyes.

"Always remember one thing, Mythra," she spoke, her voice firm and her eyes narrowed at him.

"As much as I love you, I have to tell you a sad truth about life. It might sound discouraging but it's still the truth," she said. Mythra hearkened to her speech.

"The truth is that you need to accept the fact that in the coming days of your life, you are going to suffer," she said.

Mythra was befuddled.

He had expected some words of compassion, but he heard something contradictory. He was flustered, to say anything. Granny's words were wise but discouraging.

"So...What?... You mean to say I am going to suffer like this for my entire life?" he asked, agitated. The Roshai took a pause.

"Maybe...Some things cannot be changed, Mythra. And even though I know that you are not the 'child of hatred', the society is always going to treat you as a Caligor'' she replied, truthfully. The Roshai could see Mythra's expression turning cumbersome.

"However..." she paused.

"What someone thinks about you does not have to become your reality," she said.

Mythra's expression changed. This remark kindled hope in him about his future.

"And although people are always going to treat you as an outcast and despise you and fear you....you still have a choice," she said.

"What choice?" he asked.

"Amidst all this hate, you are eventually going to find some good in this world. When you find it, be sure to defend it. You have the potential to become the noblest contradiction in the entire world" she said, her voice sounded deeper and conscious.

"You will be a Caligor who fought for good" she narrated calmly. Her tone was tranquil. Mythra felt inspired by hearing this title. For once in his life, he felt soothing about his birth.

"You believe that granny?" he asked. The Roshai smiled and nodded affirmatively.

"I believe in you. Always have, always will" she replied confidently with a serene smile on her face.

"One day you would find the purpose for all this suffering you are going through, Mythra. One day you would know the reason for your birth" she added. Mythra hearkened.

"You can set an example for the world. By living your life through all this hate and suffering, you can still emerge as a protector of the good and the innocent" she spoke.

"You can prove, through your own life, that it doesn't matter how unfavorable life gets, you can still choose to be good," she said. Mythra's pupils widened.

"You can inspire the next generation of children who had to face a similar fate as you did. You can give some hope to every boy or girl who was rejected and hated by society, just like you were" she spoke.

Mythra felt utterly inspired by hearing these words. He had never given a thought about his life. He never thought that he could serve such a higher purpose. He was not familiar with the idea of empathy.

"There are people in this world who are living a much more miserable life, Mythra. Some people would give anything to trade their lives with yours" she spoke. Mythra was perplexed. Who would want to trade life him? He was not sure that anyone would like to trade their life with him. He was a Caligor and not far before in the day, he was bullied and pissed upon.

"Why would they do that?" he asked in a baffled tone.

"Because there are people who have suffered in the past and they are still suffering...they are suffering from the horrible atrocities committed by those who abuse the power of their position. This world is a wretched place, Mythra. It's filled with melancholy and malevolence" she said with a sigh of exasperation. Mythra didn't understand the meaning of those words but he could decipher that they stood for something bad.

"There are people who would happily choose to be ignored by society for the ghosts in their pasts," she said. Her eyes were just staring blindly in the dark abyss, like she was cogitating on something, trying to remember something from her past, perhaps.

"Which is why I believe that you can make a difference," she said and stood up at her place.

"Anyways, it's quite dark and cold now. Let's get some shut-eye" she suggested.

Mythra took a last glance at the sky when he stood up and then both of them went inside the homestead for the night. Roshai's words were comforting for him and it was the first time in his life when he felt special and purposeful about his birth and his life.

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Footnotes

• Seron of Verkaton is the fifth month in the Calendar

• Mesha means a year comprising of 16 months

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This part is dedicated to my late grandmother who told me bedtime stories from ancient Indian mythology. Her definitive and captivating narration of the past, has kept me motivated to write my own novel.

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