Chapter 89: The Sand Reaper

Wailing. Crying. Sobbing.

Such were sounds of distraught from a baby, around two months old. The baby was alone. The heat was swelling. The carriage that was carrying him and his family was destroyed. His family starved themselves and set up the food in a way where the child can reach it without worry, without stress, without fatigue. The baby was scared, panicked, as it has been only a few days since they disappeared. A Few days the baby was unattended. Even if the supplies were vast, the survivability of a mere infant was near impossible. Without anyone to look after it, it was nothing less than a casualty in the smoldering sun's glare. The baby cried and cried, almost enough to where his vocals were destroyed. He quickly accepted his fate as he realized he was going away.

Low.....Medium.....High.

A whistling tune was made nearby, prompting the baby to look up, such heat clouding his vision. The last thing the baby saw was nothing more than a silhouette of a man, walking amidst the very dunes, before taking notice of the carriage, and then later, the child itself. When the baby got its conscious back, it was relocated almost instantly. Instead of a dune-like wasteland, it was nothing more than an oasis. Trees which grew fresh fruit, mashed into a paste to act as baby food for the child, whilst the waters and leaves act as his source of water and cleansing. Every night, when it was time to sleep, the child can hear the soft tunes when he was at the carriage. The whistling that transitioned into a Lullaby. It was soothing, calm, and it helped him sleep at that night. The silhouette wasn't much to some, but to the child, it was a parental figure. Something that wanted him to live on. His very reminder that it is still human enough to give emotion and care. By the time the child was around four, he was embarked into a separate city, one just like the oasis, but with huts and pools to act as wells and houses. The boy was still hoarse, yet he was able to speak. "Daddy...what is this....?"

"Home....your home....." The beast would bellow back, holding the child's hand, feeling it tighten, as if to signify the child was scared.

"Would you stay with me in this home....? I'm scared....."

"No....Me.....is sorry-" The beast was interrupted by the child tearing up. He was about to cry again. The beast merely knelt down and hugged the child, whispering to him a message. "You.....stay.....Me....Go...Too dangerous....Wants you...to live human life....." The beasts English was clearly broken, almost being mere growls, yet the child understood what he was saying. The boy gave one more hug before he departs.

"I'm gonna miss you...Daddy...."

"Me....will miss you too...Please....let me rest....when we see each other.....again.."

The boy made his way to the city, being nervous around the people there. So many unknown faces. So many sounds he is not accustomed to. So many people, so much to handle. Before the boy would even give out a word, he was stopped by a group. They looked around his age, two boys and one girl. "Oi, Oi, Oi! You lost kid?" The boy sheepishly nodded his head, to which she would direct the two to grab him. Scared as he was, he'd try to flee, yet their grip was firm. He closed his eyes quickly, fearing the worst, when in reality, they simply sat him down amidst the shade, the girl chuckling as she'd relax on top of everyone amidst a few boxes. "Well? How's it feelin'? Better than that dumb sun, right? Relax yourself, man! No one's gonna be out to get yah! What's your name? I'm Maxilla!"

"N-....Name?" The boy would ask, to which the others would answer as well.

"Yeah! A Name! Mines Talus! Quiet one's Sacrum! That one is Mr. Scapula, that one's Mrs. Ulnas, and that's Tibia and Fibula!" The boy, which wore goggles, would state, pointing at what looked to be a woodcarver, a gardener, and two cats that lounged around the roof.

"U-Uh.....Well.....I.....Don't really have a name-"

"YOU DON'T!? What kind of person walks around without a name!?" The three spoke unanimously, somewhat shocked at the child's response, wondering if he was ok. A Boy with gloves checked his head for any wounds, yet there was no sign of one. 

"Is a name really that important....?"

"Of course it is! It's what makes you human! It's what makes you a person! You don't just walk around nameless, right??" Maxilla would state.

"Here, What would you like to be called? Just give us a word. Any word! We'll let that be your name for now on!" Talus would add on further. The boy was even more curious, a bit stumped as he doesn't know much of any word to be linked to him. That was, until, he recalled his father's tune. He'd be deep in thought, before answering their question.

"Sibil. I want that one..." He would state. A Confused look was made at the trio, before the boy stated further. "Its short for....Si-bil-us. That word. It means 'Whistle.' I want that as my name because....well.....I just like whistling!"

Maxilla raised an eyebrow at his answer. "Sibil, eh? I can dig it."

Talus would be just as confused. "Why do you like whistling?"

Sibil merely sighed as he'd explain himself a bit. "I just like it. Nothing more, and nothing le-." Before he was able to state further, Maxilla simply gave him a little noogie, understanding what he meant.

"A'ight a'ight, We get it. Don't need to give us a life story. Hey! We're gonna do some games with other people. You want in?" The boy was tempted by the offer, and much like bees to honey, he accepted it with open arms. Throughout the rest of his years, he would grow accustomed to the city, to the very village that raised him well. He was able to let his worrisome mind at ease, as he'd grow up. The more he spent with them, the more he recognized they were what it means to have a real family. Such was the day he recognized this when his city was under attack by a Dragon, one of sand-like skin and vicious claws that can tear apart steel. The boy, now a man at age twenty-three, didn't want his family to be destroyed. He didn't want them to be harmed. He didn't want them to die on his hands. Fueled by this motivation, he took it upon himself to face the beast alone, being their very shield for his people.

Somehow, by such impossible means, He's won. Without ever brandishing a weapon, he'd beaten the dragon with his very hands.

Rumors quickly spread regarding the man. "It was like he was the Devil. He struck it down with barely an ounce of weight, yet the dragon was downed without a chance to breath" one would say.

"It was like Death itself took upon his body and finished the Job.." Another would cry.

Rather than be ashamed of these rumors, the Man took it upon him to adorn it like a medal. A message and an omen for those who wished to harm his family. He, along with others, would act as a defense for this city. Every day, whenever a threat shows up, the Man merely faced it by himself, effortlessly taking it out without any mercy. Each time there was a threat, He'd take care of it. Each time he took care of it, folks would tally his score, measuring how much he has done, and how much he provides such an offer to those around him.

Sibil has died as a name. A New one has taken its place, along with a new title. A Name that fits him in both his monstrous nature and his gentle actions. A Name that he grew with to this day.

The Sand Reaper.

Meso Remareno.