Under Editing
Kowahn opens and shows the palms of his hands in a honouring gesture. "Greetings," he smiles, looking at father, mother and kid, who isn't facing or looking at him, though.
The parents go silent. They feel a little trustful towards the indigenous after his warm welcoming. And his own features from the nature native people are a tranquilizer sometimes, like it is now, because of remaining preconceived ideas.
Without mentioning his all-solid-white clothes, which makes him look like a peaceful person...
"What the h… do you want?" Incisive, the profound-skinned man who 'welcomes' Kowahn at the door, swears. His eye color is amber, but it isn't vivid like a person's brightness of the eye should be. They look… somber.
"I come in peace," Kowahn keeps smiling. "I listened to some shoutings, and I felt worried about if there is something wrong. How can I help you?"
One more time, his saying brings a bit of tranquility to the residents. The kid inside, who was hiding his face between both knees, raises his head and looks at that newcomer. There was never someone who did what he is doing. Still distrustful, the boy bites his lips, undecided. To trust or not trust?
"We don't need help. Go away!" The house-resident at the door shouts.
"… I see," Kowahn soothes his own gaze. To be shouting without a logical reason means that human must be really hurt. The indigenous doesn't rationalize many things, because he thinks through the heart's logic. "I'm sorry for interrupting you, and thank you for opening the door," he makes a small reverence while joining his palms pray-like. "Ah, before I go, I would like to warn you that children who witness their parents' antipathies may not have good brain development. Please, have mercy at the child. Your child. This light that came into your life... Look at him," his hand gestured towards the boy inside.
Mother and father glance at said human. Realizing the attention on him, the kid of violet eyes downs his head, ashamed.
"Moreover," Kowahn continues, "He has a high chance of developing anxiety, insecurity, depression, sleep disorders, behavioral problems, trust-issues and trouble at dealing with reality later in life… or even from right now and on."
The parents look back at Kowahn with a mix of disbelief and shock. Truth or not, the two adults don't want to understand, nor accept what he is saying yet.
"What the h…?" The father swears again.
"Oh my lord!" The mother covers her mouth with both hands, that presents a beautiful vitiligo in her skin.
Seeing their slight interest, Kowahn keeps talking, "Look at your child…" Again, he brings their attention to the boy, "Would you like your dear child to grow with an ill soul? Please, I beg you please: Look at him."
The shared informations distract the two adults. Under effect of an unnoticed trance, they both turn to the young boy sat on the ground, hugging his knees. His enormous violet eyes express sadness. He is hurt by their marital conflicts and fights. By all of them, not just the recent ones. His soul doesn't shine like it should. Literally. And for a second, Kowahn sees a flash of that. Literally.
"… Oh my lord," the mom, suddenly, seems to realize what she has done to the small human, "My baby, I…" She feels an urge to apologize.
"Dear friend, would you like to explain to them both how do you feel?" Kowahn invites the child. He can't say anything more than what he did about this topic. The profound-skinned child has to speak for himself from now on.
The boy tilts his head. This is so odd. A few moments ago he was talking to a voice in his head, pleading for its help. And now… 'help' is here? "… Kowahn?" He's unsure.
The indigenous smiles, < Yes. I'm Kowahn. >
Dumbfounded, the boy's jaw drops open at that. The voice in his head, the one who understood him… The one to whom he revealed all of his heart, because he didn't know how but it answered him... It listened to him. It was this tall man!
They were telepathically talking to each other!
But the boy thought he was talking to an imaginary friend he created!
< It's you! Kowahn! > He says again, surprised.
While talking through their minds, the boy disclosed he would his parents to see him. To notice how he feels. To realize he doesn't want to be in the middle of their verbal violence. It goes against his nature…
The child sucks his bottom lip, "… Huh..." and looks down, clenching his fists. He wants to reveal everything, but…
Would they really listen? Would they care? For the first time, he accommodates himself on being neglected. Or even abused. Besides… what would happen after he reveals his feelings? He's afraid of that! Of what he doesn't know, that will happen.
Silence fills the room. Everyone is expectant of the child who doesn't expect them to listen to him. And his silence prevails as the answer.
Thinking the lack of response is all of what the child can deliver, Kowahn returns his attention to the male parent. He taps onto his shoulder gently, bringing his attention back to himself. "Why are you so angry, dear brother?"
"Didn't you say you would get the h… out of here after saying the dumbs...ts you said?! Get your peaceful speech out of here! I want you out of my house!" That shouting sounds like a last warming. Kowahn isn't welcome there.
He opens his mouth to inhale deeply, then closes it in a consented silence.
The indigenous directs a profound, compassionate gaze to the father, for what feels like a long while. His eyes transmit all the mercy he feels for that lost soul. They emanate pure love. This human brother has a disturbed sea of emotions, to the point he can't rationalize anymore. He only reacts.
Arthur feels merciful for him. He believes all violent people have heartbreaking stories. They repeat patterns, not create. Usually, their parents repeated their parents' behaviour and on, and this sequence of genealogy creates a chain of pain through the families' generations.
Until it arrived at the human Kowahn faces. And this fellow brother, too, repeats what was done to him. Another prisoner of himself.
The indigenous understands, though, that personal healing only happens when the being is ready, and when they want to heal. And now, the profound-skinned man isn't ready. Nor wants it.
Perplexed at the indigenous merciful gaze, he feels as if his heart has been exposed. An embarrassment emerges in the core of his chest, making him feel reflexive at his own recent actions. But that only lasts some seconds before his logical mind cuts contact with his heart's guidance.
The outsider makes a last reverence before giving a meaningful glance at the woman, who, too, feels swayed by his compassionate look. He makes another reverence, this time at the boy, and curves-up his lips.
"I wish you all a wonderful night," is his last saying.
Then Kowahn turns around and walks away from the house. He did what he could: He tried.
As he steps away, he exhales, relieved. The hearing protectors he has been wearing until now did a marvelous job at preventing his sensible ears from the man's shoutings. Kowahn dislikes loud sounds. He feels disturbed when those reach him.
He thanks the Universe the parents didn't beat him up. And he thanks for the opportunity to do something.
For being useful and able to demonstrate nobility of spirit.