ThatHumanMage
patreon
131. For Whom the World...
🕑 Added 2025-05-23 13:30:30 +0000 UTCPrevious Chapter
******
******
Sadira tiptoed through the peristyle of the House of Spring, her bare feet silent against the polished stone floor. The sun was already peering through the branches of the tree, filtering through the leaves, down into the courtyard in countless beams of light.
Reaching a small door at the end of the walkway, she quietly turned the knob, opening it with the faintest of creaks. She crept into the dim room, past the rows of beds, stacked two high. There were almost thirty children tucked beneath comfortable blankets, sleeping soundly, for now.
Sadira threw open the curtain, letting light spill into the room and over their faces.
“Wake up everybody! Time to start the day!” She laughed over the chorus of groans and complaints.
“C’mon big sis! Can’t we sleep just a little longer?”
“Yeah! I was up late last night playing by the—” her younger brother cut himself off, realizing he was digging a hole.
Sadira shook her head, smirking. “Ah so you were sneaking around after bedtime huh? Well I’m not going to reward you for it mister! Now up, up!”
A few threats of butt-kicking later, she left the room along with the few of her siblings who had gotten themselves ready quickly—Parisa, Nali, Phil, and Norman.
“Alright!” She clapped her hands. “What are we thinking for breakfast?”
“Pancakes!” They yelled in unison.
Sadira placed her hands on her hips as they marched towards the kitchen. “Whaaat? But we had pancakes yesterday!”
“But they’re so good when you make them big sis!”
“Yeah they’re the best!”
“Hmm… I don’t know,” she mused aloud. “How about yogurt, toast, and oatmeal?”
After some more debate, she ‘compromised’ by agreeing to make one pancake for anybody that wanted one.
The breakfast was a smashing success. The long table built for housing such a crowd was covered in bowls and plates as her younger siblings ate and laughed together while Sadira worked over the stove.
As she whipped up a set of pancakes for herself, she felt a small tug on her dress, and looked down to see her younger sister Tine looking up at her.
“Will you help me braid my hair big sis?”
Sadira grinned, ruffling Tine’s soon-to-be braided hair, careful not to apply too much pressure. “Of course. Oh you’d look so pretty with braids Tine! We’ll do it after dinner okay?”
Tine hugged her leg. “Okay! Thank you big sis!” She turned around and ran back off to play with the others, a big smile on her face.
Soon after that, the other door to the kitchen opened up, and the caretaker of the House of Spring walked in.
“Father!” The children yelled happily as he entered. Many of the youngest went to go hug his legs, hardly coming up to his waist, while the older kids smiled and waved from their spots at the table.
Their Father was a middle-aged man, with a face that wrinkled when he smiled, and brown hair that had just started to touch grey with the years. As the little ones hugged him, he gently patted their heads with a warm smile.
“Are you all enjoying the breakfast Sadira has made for you! It certainly smells delicious.”
“How is Mizi! Did she like them?”
Sadira turned her ear to the conversation as they asked how their sibling’s meeting with her new parents had gone.
“They got along splendidly,” he laughed. “When they started telling her of the sights in Khadat, I could see her eyes growing brighter by the moment. She’s going to be very happy there.”
“I hope I get to go to Khadat…” Little Roonie said sadly.
“Someday when you’re older, I’m sure you’ll be able to visit her,” Father said.
Sadira’s smile slipped just a bit at that, looking at the blackened skin creeping out from under Little Roonie’s sleeves. It hadn’t been visible even a few weeks ago.
Is this what you mean Father? She wondered. When you said some lies are kind?
“Sadira,” Father called over. “Are you available after breakfast?”
“I have some errands to run before lunch,” she said. “Would it be okay to delay until after then?”
“Of course, we’ll do it after lunch. And could you pick up some more bandages while you’re out?”
She nodded, waving goodbye to her siblings as she headed out.
The air was warm as she stepped back outside, and a faint breeze blew past, faintly carrying the floral scent of spring.
Zavier was sitting on the front porch, arms wrapped around his legs with knees brought up to his chin. His skin was especially pale, so the black creeping up almost all the way down his arms and up his neck was all the more visible.
“Oh, good morning Zavi,” she said cheerily. “There should still be food left if you want to eat. It’s a wonderful day isn’t it?”
He looked up at her, and for a moment, she saw something swirling in his eyes—anger, shock, fear—but he quickly masked it under indifference.
“Good morning Sadira,” he said finally. “And I told you not to use that nickname.”
“Is everything alright?” she asked, reaching out to put her hand on his shoulder.
He pulled away, eyes settling on the cellar door across the courtyard. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just woke up a little too early this morning.”
Zavi was the sibling Sadira had known for the longest. In fact, he was only a few years younger than her at fourteen. The longest any of their other siblings had made it without a cure was twelve.
It is a true tragedy, Father had said. He is old enough to truly understand his situation. It causes him much more pain than any of the others.
“Well… if you want to talk…” she tried.
“What’s the point?” He said sharply, cutting off the conversation.
Forced to give up, Sadira just hoisted the basket onto her shoulder and stepped down the stairs, walking along the path that led into the city.
“Sadira,” he called out while she was halfway there.
She turned, curious. “What is it?”
Zavi had a strange look in his eyes, and his gaze hadn’t left the heavy iron door leading down to the cellar.
“Do you ever wonder?” he asked. “What’s down there?”
Sadira pursed her lips. There were strict rules about the cellar. No one but Father was allowed to enter—not that they could, he kept the key on him at all times. Well, perhaps Sadira could. The lock was thick, and the hinges were huge, but she felt that if she really wanted to, she could break it open.
She shook the thought down though. No, that was silly—she couldn’t break it of course—what was she thinking?
Glancing back, she saw Zavi was still waiting for an answer, but she didn’t have a satisfactory one.
“Not really,” she said. “It’s probably just expensive or dangerous medicine though.”
“Yeah you’re right… nevermind.” He stood up and opened the front door. “Have fun at the market Sadira.”
She watched him walk inside, staring at the door as it closed for a moment before turning back towards the gate.
Sadira took a deep breath, then slapped her cheek twice with her free hand. “Alright!” she said, and then she was off.
The markets of Liresil were bustling with the coming of spring. The early season fruits had started to bloom, and people were happy to be outside again as the weather grew warmer. Sadira was no exception to that, so as she walked underneath one of the giant arching roots of the spirit tree, she couldn’t help but have a bit more spring in her step.
Stepping out of its shadow, she noticed a bird taking off from one of the branches above, gliding out into the sky above the river. She watched it for a moment as it soared through the open air, its wings letting it travel wherever they pleased. But as she reached the first stall, she pulled her head away.
She stopped at several stalls, after that first picking up the bandages and medicine she’d set out for, then filling her basket with fruits, bread, and dried herbs. When she reached the last one, the older woman behind it gave her a keen look.
“How you carry that basket everywhere still astounds me,”
Sadira gave a small shrug. “It’s not that heavy.”
The woman chuckled. “Perhaps not to you. I swear Sadira, you must have the strength of five men.”
“I’ve always been strong,” Sadira said, brushing it off with a smile. It was true, though of course, she’d been even stronger before—
She stopped herself, preventing the memory from forming.
The woman just smiled and handed over a bundled wrap of smoked fish. “If you say so.”
She returned just in time to make lunch, whipping up another meal for her siblings before heading to meet Father in his study.
She closed the door behind her and stepped into the familiar space. The room always made her feel oddly calm. It smelled like him—herbs, incense, and something bitter she couldn’t name.
“You’re just in time,” he said, smiling as she entered. “I’ve prepared everything. Are the others well?”
She nodded, a smile touching her face. “Just eating in the kitchen. Zavier is there to keep an eye on them.”
Father’s eyes twinkled faintly. “You take such good care of them Sadira. I know you think it is a simple thing, but it is not. You do more for them than you know.”
“They’re my siblings,” she said, her face a bit warm from the praise.
And they are lucky to have you.” He guided her to sit, his voice calm and steady. She’d trusted his voice all her life. “Now, I won’t keep you long today. I know you’re as eager as the rest of them to enjoy such lovely weather.”
Sadira glanced towards the tray of gleaming instruments. “Father, do you think… Do you think you’re close?”
He paused, his eyes going somewhere distant for a moment before he answered.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “Though not replicable yet, we’ve had successes for the first time in so long. I truly believe we’re near the end.”
She nodded. “I hope so.”
Father gently took her hand. “Be proud, my daughter. Without you, I could have never come this far. You are my hope, as well as theirs.”
She thought of Zavier’s blackened skin. Of Tine’s soon-to-be-braided hair. Of Parisa, Norman, Little Roonie…
She tightened her hand around her father’s for just a moment.
Then his hands moved to the tools, and they began.
***
When Sadira stepped out, her arms were wrapped in fresh white bandages. She flexed her fingers slightly, opening and closing her hands. For a moment, she stood there, and the hallway was quiet.
Sadira took a deep breath. She tapped her cheeks twice, and then kept walking.
The day wore on. She helped sort laundry, mended the hem of one of her younger brother’s coats, and braided Tine’s hair. She chased them around in the yard, took them down to the river, and corralled them all back when they were done.
In the evening, she went out into the city, ascending the platforms of the tree to watch the dancers and the singers that performed each night. She loved to watch the shows put on in Liresil, and as she understood it, the city was known for its street performances. The stages may not be grand, but for a moment, the dances and the songs whisked her away to another world.
Some dances were for show, displays of simple skill in movement. But her favorite dances told stories. The one tonight was a duet, a dance and song which told the story of two lovers cursed to a tragic fate. The bard played the final lonesome string, and the dancers fell limply onto the ground. Her eyes watered as she and the crowd gave an enthusiastic applause. As it ended though, she looked around the audience, and saw that of everyone there, only she had come alone.
Eventually, she returned to the House of Spring. She tucked in the little ones, laughing as they told her things they’d done while she was gone. She told them bedtime stories to help them sleep, and kissed their foreheads as they drifted off on their pillows. For some time, she watched them, trying to memorize each of their sleeping faces so she would never forget. And when she was satisfied with that, she slipped out of the room.
Her own bedroom was a small space, though she was grateful for it. A small bed tucked into a corner, a canvas covered in a half-painted scene, and a window that caught both the glittering lights of the lower city below, and the branches of the tree above. She changed clothes, bandaged arms vanishing beneath long sleeves, and sat on the sill, looking out.
The sky was clear tonight, and the branches of the Spirit Tree swayed in the wind, high above the rooftops of Liresil. Far in the distance, hills melded against the sky, and the river shimmered in the moonlight.
As she looked out, her fingers flipped through the pages of a small children's book, of which she’d long since memorized the pages. It had been Nilou’s favorite, once. Though the book stuck so clearly in her memory, Nilou’s face had grown blurry, faded by time.
I’ve heard that in Taravast, one night each year, there’s a place where the sea shines with dancing purple lights. When we get older, and when I’m all better, shall we go see the lights together?
For a moment, Sadira imagined she was a bird. She spread her arms, and flew into the sky. She dipped over the river, then flew out across the plains. She reached the hills in the distance, and kept going. The world flattened out beneath her as she went faster, feeling the wind on her face. She crossed mountains, and valleys, and forests, and finally, she reached the cliffs of that place. She looked out upon the sea, at the purple lights that danced amidst the waves. And Nilou was with her, racing her down to the beach.
Then, the moment passed. She thought of her siblings in their beds, she thought of Father, working so hard to find a cure. The wind brushed against her face one last time, and Sadira shut the window.
Pulling the blanket over herself, she let her eyes slowly close.
She dreamed of flying.
Comments
ThoMiCroN
More like Wyn will heal one, and they will find the basement is not for looking for a cure.
LOLZMAN
Come here to place your bets on how many or the kids are going to die
im Panda
Thanks for the chapter
