Years flew by in a blur, and Herben grew to be a sturdy and skilled young man. His talents were the talk of the village, and many parents were already vying for his hand in marriage for their daughters. But Ferradun, his father, declared him too young for such commitments, but of course the matter was decided by Parritha.
From a tender age, Herben was fluent in the three languages of Men, Elves, and Dwarfs. By the age of four, he was already strong enough to carry water from the river, a heavy-duty task for adults and to perform many household chores. But his hunger for knowledge of the mysteries within the book that his mother had was insatiable. However, Parritha, in her tough love, would always forbid him from trying and would even slap him at times.
Despite her sternness, Parritha was always a loving mother. She would regale him with tales of distant cities, magical beings, kingdoms, temples, and palaces that lay beyond the western horizon.
When Parritha became pregnant with another baby, Herben took great care of her. He would venture into the jungles and mountains to gather herbs and hunt for edible creatures. Every sunrise, he would marvel as the light slowly enveloped the shadows, filling the world with joy. He would gaze at the mountains beyond his village and wonder what lay beyond. Perhaps golden palaces, towering citadels, and a diversity of people with much to learn and experience.
After each adventure, Herben would return home with a bounty of treasures, eager to show his parents how much he had grown. He would watch as they woke up late, beaming with pride and happiness as they admired him. At times, Parritha would even weep and embrace him, and Ferradun would call him little jallaka, a term for pure and fair devils.
As Herben continued to grow, his curiosity and drive for knowledge only grew stronger. He knew that the world held untold secrets and wonders, and he was determined to uncover them all. Little did he know that his thirst for discovery would soon lead him on a journey far beyond his wildest dreams.
Despite her sternness, Parritha was always a loving mother. She would regale Herben with tales of distant cities, magical beings, and wondrous sights that lay beyond the western horizon, in the fabled land of Arcanath.
She spoke of cities built of crystal and ice, their spires reaching towards the sky like delicate, intricately carved jewels. In these cities, beings of all kinds lived together in harmony, protected by the powerful Art that permeated the very air.
Parritha also told of hidden cities, concealed deep within the ancient forests of the elves, where the trees themselves seemed to come to life, bending and twisting to form homes and sanctuaries for their inhabitants.
And then there was the magical city of Nexorionel now known as nexadell, the hub of the world, where the greatest mages of all the lands gathered to study and learn from each other. Here, the buildings glowed with an otherworldly light, and the air crackled with raw Arcane Art and Arora.
Throughout these lands, Herben knew there were many other creatures, some friendly and some not, but all living in their own unique societies. There were the dwarves, who had carved out great halls and cities within the mountains, their homes shimmering with the glow of precious gems and metals. And there were the merfolk, who dwelled in underwater cities of Nerethale and Selthavor, their Arcane allowing them to thrive in the depths of the sea.
Parritha also spoke of Arcane users, those who had the ability to wield the very forces of nature itself. Some had the power to breath fire, others to manipulate the elements of earth and air. And there were those who could heal the sick and wounded with a touch, or summon powerful beasts to do their bidding.
In the world of Arcanath, there was always something new to discover and explore, a world of wonder and art beyond Herben's wildest dreams.
As Parritha spoke, other creatures would come to mind as well. The great dragons that roamed the skies, breathing Arora and taking to the air with powerful beats of their wings.
Herben's mind would race with excitement as he listened to his mother's tales, imagining himself exploring the hidden cities, taming dragons, and mastering the magical arts. For now, though, he would content himself with gathering herbs and hunting for food, dreaming of the day when he would set out on his own adventures.
Herben, despite his tender years, displayed a remarkable fortitude of character. He would often seek solace in the stories and teachings of his mother, Parritha, rather than in the company of other villagers. The presence of his mother was the balm that soothed the wounds of his soul, and the font of knowledge that quenched his thirst for learning.
While the other boys of the village reveled in their rough-and-tumble games, Herben would spend his days honing his skills in the art of the written word, and partaking in the activities that best suited his disposition. A spirited lad with a strong heart, he possessed an uncommon level of emotional resilience for one so young.
It was during his sixth spring, while the sun was descending in a blaze of golden light, that Herben awaited with bated breath for the news of the arrival of his newborn sibling. Outside the temple, constructed from the sturdy embrace of stone and dirt, and nestled into the side of a mighty mountain, he waited with a nervous excitement for tidings of the new arrival.
With great fortune, Parritha was carried to the divine temple, for her first child was born a month premature. Within the temple, a boxy structure ascended in tiers, accessible only by a winding staircase that spiralled upwards towards the heavens. It was there, within the cool embrace of the temple's hallowed halls, that Herben beheld the presence of the most unusual creatures. These furry, enigmatic beings exuded an aura of palpable warmth, and were said to possess a healing factor beyond the ken of mortal man. Indeed, it was whispered that they were the favoured pets of the gods themselves, and that they bestowed good fortune upon those who were fortunate enough to bask in their presence.
In this idyllic setting, Herben's heart swelled with anticipation as he waited with bated breath for the news of his new sibling's arrival. The air was thick with the anticipation of new beginnings, and the promise of a bright new dawn.
Herben was overwhelmed with nervousness, his eyes shut tight as he tried to steady his racing heart. He felt the power of Arora flowing beneath his feet, beckoning him towards the temple. However, the sacred grounds were off-limits to all but the most trusted healers and mages. Despite the allure of the energy tugging at him, Herben held steadfast, refusing to move forward. Gradually, the once turbulent aura calmed, though still infused with an undercurrent of suppressed anger.
As he gazed up from his meditative state, Herben spotted his father sprinting towards him. His father wordlessly seized him and raced back to the temple, his fury barely contained. Upon arrival, he deposited Herben at his mother's side. The entire room was filled with silent observers, pressing against the walls in deference to Ferradun, who was cradling Parritha's hand.
"May the grace of the Arcanath be upon us, for this day is fraught with danger and uncertainty. The power of Arora ebbs and flows, as unpredictable as the currents of the ocean. Yet we hold steadfast in our faith, relying on the knowledge and skill of our healers and mages to guide us through the tempest. Let us pray for the safe delivery of the child, that they may be born into the light and thrive under the protection of the Arcanath". Whispered the healers in hopes of some light.
Herben walked into the dimly lit room where his mother lay on a bed of furs. He could see the pain etched on her face, and the tears that streamed down her cheeks. He approached her cautiously, sensing the gravity of the situation.
He approached his mother's bedside, her breathing laboured and shallow. She beckoned him closer with a frail hand, and he leaned in to hear her words.
Herben, my brave boy, you must listen to me," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You are strong, stronger than you know. But I fear for your father. He may seem strong on the outside, but inside he is as fragile as a newborn fawn. Care for him. Tears welled up in Herben's eyes as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He knew his father had always been the one to shoulder the burdens of their family, but he had never considered the toll it had taken on him. "Herben, my son, I don't have much time left." parritha said weakly. Herben's heart sank at her words and his mind raced with confusion and fear. "Mom, what's happening?" he asked, his voice quivering. "Is everything alright? Did I do something wrong again?
Parritha reached out and took his hand, her grip weak but firm. "No, my sweet boy, it's not you. I have fallen ill, and my time here is coming to an end. Ferradun, who had been standing by the door, stepped forward. "Listen Herben. Herben nodded, still feeling overwhelmed by the weight of it all.
"Take him with you, Herben, and follow THE ONE. Together, you must discover the truth of this realm, and the fate that awaits us all," Parritha continued, her eyes flickering with a fierce determination.
Herben nodded, his throat tight with emotion, and took his father's hand. Parritha's weak voice quavered as she spoke to her son, "My dearest Herben, I love you more than words can express. Take care of your father, my sweet boy. He needs you now more than ever. You are both the light of my life, and the thought of leaving you fills me with sorrow and regret."
Tears welled up in Herben's eyes as he listened to his mother's words. He couldn't imagine a life without her, and the thought of losing her was too much to bear. He held her hand tightly, feeling the warmth of her skin, and tried to memorize every detail of her face.
Parritha continued, her voice growing weaker by the moment, "Promise me that you will be strong, my dear son. Don't be too sad when I am gone. Remember that I will always be with you, in your hearts. And if ever you need me, just feel your heart, your tiny tuni heart, and I will be there with you."
Herben's heart ached with sadness as he listened to his mother's words. He wanted to beg her to stay, to cling to her and never let her go. But he knew that he couldn't stop what was happening. He felt powerless and small in the face of this great loss.
Parritha closed her eyes, her breathing slowing down, "I am so grateful for the time we have had together, my dear family. You have brought me so much joy and happiness. I am at peace now, knowing that I will always be a part of you. Promise me that you will take care of each other, and that you will always remember me."
Herben and Ferradun both nodded, tears streaming down their faces. They held onto Parritha's hands as she took her last breath, feeling the life slip away from her body.
The room was filled with a profound silence, broken only by the soft sound of Herben's sobs. Together, they stood at Parritha's bedside, watching as the light slowly faded from her eyes. Herben could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. "I promise, Mom," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
With a final gasp, she drew her last breath, and the room was filled with a deep silence. Herben and Ferradun stood in stunned silence, their hearts heavy with grief and the weight of the task ahead.
As the night went on, the darkness seemed to swallow Herben whole. He was but a young child, innocent and naive, and the concept of death was something he could hardly comprehend. Yet, deep down, he knew that he would never see his mother again. The thought alone was enough to send him spiraling into a state of confusion and despair.
Driven by an overwhelming sense of loss and grief, Herben fled into the jungle and climbed up into the mountains. There, perched on the edge of a precipice, he gazed out at the stars and the moon, still grappling with the enormity of what had just happened.
The weight of his mother's words hung heavy upon him, and he struggled to make sense of them. His heart pounded in his chest, and his body shook with emotion. But then, as if by some unknown force, he was suddenly overcome with a sense of calm. It was as if the very earth beneath him was pulling him down, urging him to rest.
As he succumbed to the lull of the earth's embrace, his eyes grew heavy and his body relaxed. It was as if he was being gently guided to a place of peace and comfort, where he could forget his sorrows and drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
With eyes that saw beyond the mortal realm, Herben had visions that he could scarcely remember upon his return to the waking world. All that remained was the echo of his mother's voice, urging him to soar to great heights. And when he awoke, he found himself suspended in mid-air, his body hovering effortlessly a meter above the ground.
He sat cross-legged, his arms outstretched, and his eyes a deep, abyssal black, studded with twinkling stars. And from within his chest emanated a soft, pulsating light, a dim but steady glow that seemed to radiate with an otherworldly energy.
It was a sight to behold, and one that filled Herben with both wonder and fear. What power lay within him, and what purpose did it serve? Only time would reveal the answers to these questions, but for now, he knew that he was destined for greatness, whether he was ready for it or not.
Ferradun trekked up the mountain slowly, his breaths ragged and laboured. Suddenly, he called out with a voice that seemed to carry the weight of the world, "Herben!" The boy, lost in his thoughts, lost his focus, and tumbled to the ground. Ferradun approached him with a haunted look, as if he had just seen a ghost. "So it was true, you are the one," he muttered to himself, hardly able to speak as his voice shook with emotion.
Herben struggled to rise to his feet, fear creeping into his heart. But before he could utter a word, his father enveloped him in a tight embrace and began to weep uncontrollably while repeatedly mumbling "you are him, she was right, your mother was right". Herben could feel his father's chest heaving with sobs, and for a moment it seemed like everything was about to be worse. But then Ferradun spoke, his voice shaking with emotion as he addressed his son saying …
To be continued.