As the celestial Lunar faded away, Eos took over in its stead, declaring, "I will bring light."
It rose to the heavenly skies, shining in all its brilliance, radiating its eternal majesty of pure luminance, bringing light to a world that had been in a state of temporal darkness. Its bright glory stretched over the horizon, laying waste to and eliminating every depth of darkness, wreaking havoc on every hidden shadow, forcing them to seek refuge in hidden places and corners out of cowardice.
Inside a small, dusty stable, full of camels and reeking of feces and dirt, at the very end of the stable, in a corner to the right, was a heap of hay. Atop it lay a young man.
He awoke from his slumber, opening his eyelids as a bright ray of Eos shot down on his green-lit eyes. He rose, sleep still lingering in his body. He let loose his long jet-black hair and began to pace outside the stable.
As he walked outside, the morning rays of Eos plunged down on his smooth, pale skin. He took a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs.
"Dawn," he muttered.
He then looked over to a small wooden structure built directly beside the stable—a wooden home. His eyes fixated on a small window. With a look of melancholy in his eyes, he raised his head to the sun, to Eos. I failed to teach him—I failed to teach Kairi properly. I'd regret making that mistake again today, he thought.
He then walked toward the small home, entering through a double wooden door that was unlocked. Wooden beams stretched above his head, and wooden planks lay underneath his feet. At the very corner of the room was a small wooden table and a small wooden counter, with bowls scattered across. There were no portraits, no pictures, nothing—nothing more than a small bedroom across the narrow hall.
He walked down the hall, each step resounding through the small wooden home. He laid his fingers on the cold doorknob, turned it clockwise, and gently pushed the door open. He looked inside. A small boy, Kairi, lay atop a wooden bed, in deep slumber.
"Wake up, sleeping beauty."
Kairi's eyes slowly opened, his morning curls disheveled, and with large, tired eyes, he sluggishly pulled himself up. With a husky voice, he asked, "Huweyn? Here for training? I haven't eaten anything yet."
Huweyn smiled. "I know. I haven't either. But I haven't seen the old man anyway. I'd wager he's out there hunting for something to eat."
"The old man?" Kairi squinted his eyes. "That reminds me—why does he allow us to stay here anyway?"
With an unsure expression, Huweyn replied, "I'm not sure myself. On my way to Sandridge, I met him for the first time. It was dark out, so he allowed me to stay. This stable is the one I was referring to earlier."
"I see. He told me he was a Transcender, or something like that. I was surprised—quite surprised," Kairi added.
With a frown, Huweyn muttered, "That shouldn't be right." He placed his hand on Kairi's shoulder. "Kairi, he—that man isn't—"
The wooden door creaked open, and the old man stepped in with two plates of Desert Leaper soup, a delicacy made from a large desert insect with long limbs, rich in protein.
"Food's ready," he muttered apathetically.
He left the room, closing the door slowly with his foot, both plates still in his hands.
Kairi looked back to Huweyn. "You were saying something?"
"N-nevermind. Let's just get some food before we go back to training, shall we?"
***
The three sat at the small wooden table, facing one another. Three bowls lay across the table. Inside the bowls was a green, sappy, thick liquid made by mixing together various plants, with two dark, stick-like insect legs—Desert Leaper.
Kairi stared at the soup. It doesn't look edible, he thought. But I've learned not to judge a book by its cover after eating Desert Crawler meat.
He placed his hands on the bowl, feeling the heat press against his palms. He brought the rim of the bowl to his lips and took a sip.
The taste of the hot soup entered his mouth, tasting like the worst mix of vegetables, leaving an upsetting aftertaste. He set the bowl back onto the table, his face scrunched in distaste.
With a stretching frown on his face, he thought, What did I just eat? Disgusting. He then looked down at the Desert Leaper legs.
Placing a finger into the bowl, he picked up one of the legs and took a bite. It was hard, quite hard, and crunchy. But after the sturdiness, a juicy, soft sweetness emerged from within.
He smiled. Not bad. He looked over at Huweyn, who had already finished his share, and then at the old man. With a face as pale as a ghost, the old man ate nothing. His bowl remained untouched.
With an angry look, Huweyn glared at the old man. "Are you planning to starve yourself to death, Mr. Ibnir?"
With a gaze focused on nothing, devoid of emotion, and no recollection of joy or sadness in his drowsy eyes, Ibnir muttered, "I don't deserve to eat. I don't deserve to die."
"I guess you're right," Huweyn said, scratching the back of his head. "Don't know why I even bothered. You deserve your fate, after all."
"At least you get it," Ibnir remarked.
Kairi, feeling uncomfortable, sat in utter confusion. I don't get it... Why is he punishing himself? Shouldn't Transcenders be praiseworthy individuals? Then why?
It was all completely strange. If being a Transcender was such a risky job with wealthy rewards, why would one waste away on the surface with no money or wealth to their name? Why would they be alone? Why would they hide away in a wooden shack? Just what was he hiding?
Thoughts flooded Kairi's mind. He couldn't help his curiosity and eagerness to know more about the old man, though it wasn't his place.
The young boy then looked at the old man. "Are you really a Transcender, Mr. Ibnir?"
Ibnir sluggishly looked up at Kairi, his eyes numb, concealing emotions. He casually denounced, "No, I am not—I am he who slaughters Transcenders.