"Sun shards."
"The storm in the east."
"Mana."
Words like these circled around the boy's mind as he awoke from his troubled sleep. His eyes shutting open as he gave up on the idea to forget about the royalty words, words that he needed more understanding of. As he moved his feet onto the cold ground, he sat on the elevated rug. The wooden stand the rug laid on was a gift from Alan to him, many days after he had started to study the language of the region. Midas was relentless, his eyes fixated onto the ground and his burnt feet bent forward to think.
The shards he mentioned were brought by someone to these lands, a person of whom the royalty was a descendant; his lips parted slightly as he connected the dots, moving up from his sleeping place to walk up and down his dark room, the moon dimly shining through the round window. Midas stopped to face the window, looking out to the shining moon, as he scratched his chin lightly, his arms crossed on his chest. As a distant relative, the royalty must've at least heard a tale or story about this mysterious sun prophet, which passed on the sun shards to the regions volk.
A silent squeak escaped the holsters of the wooden door, seperating his room from the walkway. With his boots equipped, he silently walked down the path, heading towards the stairs. The lit windows of the main building seemed far away. Warm light escaped its windows on the upper floors, separated by a trench of darkness, distancing the boy from the central building as he climbed the dark floor by himself.
Heading up another set of stairs, he arrived in front of Jihid's room, his face stained by worry for the man, as he left him on his own for the rest of the day, not able to help him out. His head moving to the side to face the unlit central area, barren darkness laying ontop the sand. Leaning against the low mud wall, acting as a railing to the pathway, he lost himself in thought.
Jihids door opened, and Midas turned to face the spec of light that traveled out of it, transported by a roughly lit, dark silhouette that held onto what turned out to be a candle. Held by none other than the royalty himself, still shrouded in the same fine silk he wore on him before the sun had set. Calmly closing the door, shortly stopping in his way to meet eyes with the boy, as he headed towards him.
"Did you know of my presence here? Have you arrived to give word from Alma? Why are you standing here—on your lonely own, that is, at this hour as well?" He looked at him, sternly viewing his face, before looking out towards the central building. Midas took a moment, not wanting to waste the opportunity he faced, before speaking in a lowered tone. "I find it hard to sleep; a lot weighs on my mind at this moment." He sunk his head, gazing down to his arms as he spoke.
"Im not supriced; the sleeping facilities of this old fort fall short to my bed in my homestead." He placed the candle, standing on a bronze holder, to the side. His hands on the mud wall, "You spoke of your mind—something bringing concern onto you?" His young voice dimly intrigued by the boys reply, he faced him.
"You spoke of something named Mana—stated that Alma lacked control of it." Midas dared to face him, looking up to him, his brows pointed, and his concern grew, as he didn't know how he might react to his direct response.
"You are interested in my knowledge? Mana was it—a flow of energy traveling through our body, traversing and flowing through our limbs, fed by the food we eat, the sleep we get, and trained through exercise. A teaching of my teacher, back when I was as young as you are." The royalty put on a faint grin as he passed down the phrase of his teacher onto the boy, proudly recalling what he was taught as a student.
The boy's eyes lightened up slightly as he put his finger onto his chest. "Even someone born lower than me posesses Mana—even though any object technically does. Sand, for example, has Mana as well, much fewer than we humans possess, but just enough to be used by us."
"With the sun shards..." The boy stepped slightly closer as he longed for more awnsers.
"Indeed." The royalty pushed him slightly, tapping on his chest. "Now, make sure you pay attention, Sarbahr'ivid. He was the first to find one of these shards, a great man, who gave our folk the chance of establishing inmidst the desert. A real beacon of light for us to look up to, guiding us through the harsh central lands." Clearly losing track, the royalty romanticized about the same person the boy couldn't stop thinking about.
"Where did he find it then? In a cave, or was it given by him..?" The boy tried his best to keep the concentration of the royalty, as he seemed to be the only one who may know more about the shards origins.
Pausing at his question, he redirected his sight onto Midas, his brows cramping up as he looked at him. His mouth opening as he looked to the center of the compound, "I wasn't told.. but there might be a place in which we could trace back its origins to." Rapidly, without Midas being able to react, he put his hands on his shoulders, his eyes widening. "The temple in the east! I am sure of it—the resting place of the man who brought these shards to our people must be there." He sounded excited, begging him to share his interest with him as he grabbed onto the boy.
"And because of the ravaging unfaithful northeners who dare step into the dunes of our land, this storm appeared; if my counting was right, just a mere day before you were brought to this place, the storm had begun to roar." He shook the boy lightly to make him understand the importance of his rant.
"You, who wanted my knowledge, owe me." Letting go of the boy, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, broadening his stance in front of Midas, still struggling to follow his rant. "With every day that goes by, more and more sand gets thrown up into the air... consuming the east in an alarming rate. Its thunder is even able to be heard from Fort Jashae, as it burries our only real defense in the east with sand." He pointed the finger out to the perplexed boy, sounding the expanse of the danger to him with an urgent tone.
"Since no one lends me their ear in the palace—even Alma is not fit enough to take this matter onto him. You must be the one, the hero who wanders into the storm." His speech destorted into a tale of future times, his words sounding more like a prophecy than an order given by a royalty.
Midas trembled slightly at the order he was given, his head looking down to the floor. Unable to respond, as he didn't know how to sound the feeling of him being insufficient for the great task. The royalty grabbed a hold of his light as he started passing him, stopping one last time. "I need to ensure our peoples survival—do you understand? If we get a hold onto the power that is roaming around this temple, our victory is sealed." His voice sounded more genuine as their gazes were put off from each other.
"I am unable to go by myself. Too many tasks, forces to be employed.. people to be moved across towns, away from the north.. im overwhelmed, and if the fort gets burried under the sand in the east, any attempt of establishing a stance in that region will fail. I can wait, but I need someone to do it for me. I will wait, able to hold the position for at least another great sun cycle or two. So please, help to keep those alive who cherish the sun shards just as much as you do." Sounding more like a cry for help, his thin-toned voice spoke to the boys side before the royalty took his leave.
"One last thing—I promise! Who taught you...?" Turning around to the desperate young man, he loudly voiced another question, slightly clenching his teeth at the thought of seeking even more of his knowledge.
"Jihid—he who you took care of—taught me about Mana. I didn't pay attention to it, so I employ you to try your best at it." He stopped for a last time before finally climbing down the staircase.
Midas took a breather, aweing slightly at the royalty's reply, somehow knowing of his doings. Silently, he turned to the closed door, mere steps away. Looking to it, as the boy decided to wait for tomorrow.