Five Years Later – The Village of Jadine
Time passed quietly in the village of Jadine, a place where the gentle rhythm of daily life continued despite the unknown origins of the child left on the doorstep. Medar grew up under the care of Sister Livia, who treated him as her own, loving him fiercely despite the mysteries surrounding his past. The other children of the village had accepted him, but there was always something different about him that set him apart—something that made him a target.
Medar was no longer the fragile baby abandoned on the doorstep. Now, at the age of five, he was a strong, curious child with a spirit that shone brightly despite the subtle pain that lingered behind his eyes. His appearance was striking and made him stand out in the village of Jadine, where almost everyone had hair as green as the precious gemstone after which the village was named.
But Medar's hair was a pale grayish-silver, strikingly different from the usual jade-like green that flowed in the veins of everyone else in the village. It shimmered with an almost ethereal quality, the strands catching the light in a way that made his hair seem like a misty cloud under the sun. His eyes, too, were a brilliant blue, a rare trait in the village. They were deep and clear, like the calm waters of a lake, yet sometimes distant, as though he carried a secret he didn't understand.
Though the villagers were kind-hearted, it didn't take long for the children to notice his differences. And with that attention came ridicule.
At School – The First Day Back After Summer
Medar walked through the gates of the village school, his small hands clutching the straps of his worn leather bag. He was eager to learn, his bright eyes full of curiosity as he followed the familiar path toward the classroom. The school was a simple stone building, nestled near the heart of the village, with ivy crawling up its walls like the growth of the town itself.
As he entered the yard, the usual group of children were already gathered, laughing and playing, their green hair shining like leaves in the morning sun. Medar's gray hair stood out among them like a pale shadow.
"Hey, look! It's the stormcloud," a boy from his class, Jarek, called out with a cruel laugh. "What's the matter, Medar? Did your hair get caught in a thunderstorm?"
Medar's face flushed with embarrassment, but he didn't respond. He'd learned that it was easier to stay silent than to argue with the other children. But today, they seemed especially relentless.
"Stormcloud!" another girl, Zera, chimed in, her voice high-pitched with mockery. "Are you sure you're from Jadine? You don't even have the right hair! You look like one of those city kids. Maybe you should go back to wherever you came from!"
The group of children snickered, some of them even pointing at Medar, who stood there with his head bowed. Sister Livia had warned him that there would be people who would make fun of him, that he should be strong and ignore them. But the taunts stung.
His gray hair had always been a symbol of difference in the village. To everyone in Jadine, hair the color of jade was a sign of unity, of shared heritage. It was the color of the earth, the color of their very identity. Medar's starkly contrasting appearance felt like a silent accusation to them: that he didn't belong. That he was an outsider.
Medar's hand instinctively reached up to touch the silver necklace that still hung around his neck, the only thing he had from his mother. He felt its cool surface against his skin, a small comfort in the face of the teasing. But despite the pain, he didn't take it off. He knew it was important. His mother had given it to him, and it was all he had of her.
The Classroom
Inside the classroom, Medar took his seat at the back of the room, trying to stay out of the way. He didn't want to draw any more attention to himself, but of course, his appearance made it impossible to blend in. The children gathered around their desks, whispering to each other and casting furtive glances at him.
Sister Livia, who had taught at the school for years, entered with a gentle smile, trying to maintain the usual calm atmosphere. But even she couldn't ignore the discomfort in the air when Medar walked in. She had always been kind to him, always nurturing, but even she knew how hard it was for him to fit in.
"Alright, class," she said, her voice warm but firm, "let's begin our lessons. Today we'll be learning about the old legends of the jade stones."
As the lesson began, Medar tried to focus on the words, but his mind kept drifting to the whispers and laughter that echoed in his ears. He wanted to escape—escape from the taunts, escape from the feeling of being different. He looked out the window, watching the wind shake the branches of the trees. For a moment, he imagined himself running into the wilds beyond Jadine, where no one would know his name, where no one would judge him for his appearance.
But then he remembered the necklace around his neck, and the thought of his mother flooded his heart.
He wasn't just some ordinary child. He had a purpose, something greater waiting for him beyond these schoolyard taunts.
Later that Day
As the day wore on, the teasing continued, but Medar had learned to hold his tongue. However, something was different today. As he was walking home with a few other children trailing behind him, a shadow passed overhead, blocking the sun.
Medar glanced up, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw something strange. There, high in the sky, a fleeting silhouette moved against the clouds. It was swift, almost like a bird—but it wasn't a bird. It was too fast, too large, too powerful. For a moment, Medar could've sworn the figure had gray wings.
"Just a bird," he muttered to himself, shaking off the odd feeling that had settled in his chest.
But deep down, he knew that whatever the figure was, it had nothing to do with the stormclouds that the children teased him about. It was something else—a sign, perhaps, that his destiny was closer than he realized.