Love

"Arakh...?" a hoarse voice with a tinge of familiarity made him raise his head. He looked over and saw the head of the village. The latter had no hair and black spots covered it like moss on abandoned walls. 

"Old man?" he stood up as he saw the other villagers behind the village chief.

"Come here, let me take a good look at ya."

Arakh approached the village head. The head of the village touched his face. Pulling his cheek. "Ow!!"

"By the gods, it is you isn't it?" asked the village head. "I can't believe it, I've lived for a long time, and trust me, I've seen things, but... what happened to ya?"

Arakh hissed at the pain as he rubbed his cheek, "How can you tell that from pulling my cheek?"

"Your eyes, they are yellow," said the village head.

"Told you," Lia rolled his eyes.

"What happened to you?" asked the village head. "Where were you after all this time?"

"Would you believe it if I tell you?" Arakh crossed his arms.

"You being here is already an unbelievable matter, you still being a kid is another matter, plus your eyes being yellow like you consumed some shrooms, wait... did you?"

"What? No!" Arakh denied, "How can I get shrooms if I'm broke, you know how broke I am."

"Well, that's true," the village head before his brows raised. "Everyone, please return to your routine, the boy and I will have a chat in my room."

Arakh's stomach growled.

"And it seems like a lunch as well," said Arakh, "Right old man?"

"Haha, of course," said the village head.

Lia touched Arakh's shoulder before he followed the old man, "Arakh."

"Hm?" Arakh looked over and saw her hands clutching on her chest. "What is it?"

"Be strong, ok?"

"Lia," the village head muttered.

"Go on, Arakh," Lia nodded.

Arakh was confused but bad premonition already caught a grip on his shoulders. Every step toward the village head's house it tightened, he could hear his heartbeat as he sat on the chair.

"You poor thing," the village head's wife said as she put down food on the table, "Here, I've made some munches for lunch, come have at it and make sure to pile up the plates! Because I have more in the back."

Arakh nodded, "En!" he put his book by the table before rolling his sleeves. The boy gorged up the food as if he had no tongue to taste nor teeth to bite. 

"Haha, slow down boy," said the village head.

Arakh had his eyes bulging as he desperately reached for the water. One big gulp later, then a sigh of relief as he rubbed his tummy. "That felt great."

"Arakh," the village head said before his wife sat by his side.

"Hm?"

"Arakh... what do you remember about your family?" the village head said his eyes full of regrets.

There it is again, the grip.

He gulped, "What happened? I was about to visit them after my time here; They, they are being loud again, aren't they?"

"Oh you poor thing, Is that all you remember?" the village head's wife had her eyes filled with solemness.

"Your father disappeared," said the village head.

"Missing, what do you mean?" Arakh furrowed his brows.

"We have no idea where he went, the last time we saw him..." the village head paused. "Your mother, in the meantime told us that she will go far away to the outside of the region of the Kingdom of Pasrih."

"Good riddance," Arakh rolled his eyes, "At least the house is in peace now with just me and grandma."

"Hm..." the village head looked over at his wife before gazing back at Arakh. "Arakh, she—

Arakh's pupils shrunk to a dot as his chest heaved up. The grip tightened no more.

*Boom!

The door of the village head's house exploded as Arakh jumped out of it. "It can't be, it can't be!" he ran with tears on the edges of his eyes.

"Arakh!" Lia exclaimed as she and the others watched him run away.

"Mama, what's wrong with big bro?" asked Malfoy.

Arakh's goosebumps rose as the sky above darkened with thick clouds. This cannot be, don't give me that crap! his boots kicking up dust as he made a run toward his house. Feverish images of his grandmother and her voice lingered in his head :

"Here you go, Arakh, eat well." she smiled as she put down his favorite food.

"Arakh, I've some pocket money for you today," she handed over a little pouch to him, "I know you wanted that toy, save it up."

"Arakh, sweetie, would you mind massaging my shoulders?" her grandmother's eyes showed a plea as she massaged her right shoulder.

"Arakh, here, don't tell your father and mother ok?" she handed over another pouch of money. 

Arakh snapped open his eyes and his tears rolled down as he entered the cemetery. He walked up to the far end of the cemetery and lightning flashed before a thunderous boom of lightning followed.

'Rose Xei'

"No..." Arakh's knees fell as rain poured down like judgment from the heavens. His trembling finger slowly touched the gravestone. His teeth gritted as tears rolled down heavier than the rain. "I thought... I thought... that you would see me succeed, I thought that you would live for two hundred years..." his hands trembled, "You suffered enough." He pushed himself up, his face washed with the rain as thunder roared above. Lightning strikes around him as if he was being judged.

"HHHHHAAA!!!" Arakh's scream tore through the storm as he clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. A surge of energy burst from within him, wild and untamed, as if the thunder had answered his cry. His body glowed with a brilliant purple light, streaks of lightning crackling across his skin and shooting skyward. The heavens split with a blinding flash, and for a moment, it was as if the storm bowed to him.

The flash then revealed the face of the village head who was looking in the direction of the cemetery from his balcony. His eyes wide opened as the creases on his face couldn't hold his muscles down. "That thunder, went up instead..."

The deafening thunder faded, leaving behind only the sound of the relentless rain pounding against the earth. Arakh stood trembling, his chest heaving as purple sparks danced faintly across his soaked body. His vision blurred, the world spinning around him.

A sudden wave of nausea hit. His stomach churned violently, and he fell to his knees beside the gravestone. "G-grandma..." he whispered weakly as he clutched his chest, his body convulsing.

He leaned forward and retched, his hands digging into the muddy ground for support. His body was spent, the storm within him now quiet, leaving only emptiness in its wake. The rain washed away the remnants of his tears and the bile that dripped from his lips, the cold drops a strange comfort against his heaving back.

His arms gave out, and he collapsed forward, his cheek pressing against the wet earth just inches from his grandmother's grave. His trembling fingers weakly reached out, brushing against the carved name on the stone before they fell limp.

"Grand...ma..." he whispered one last time, his voice barely audible against the storm. Then, his eyes fluttered closed, and his body fell still, unconscious atop her resting place as the rain continued its mournful symphony.

The first rays of sunlight pierced through the dissipating clouds, their warmth a stark contrast to the chill of the stormy night. Malfoy's small boots squished against the damp ground as he wandered the cemetery, clutching a flower he had picked from his garden.

His eyes widened when he spotted a familiar figure lying motionless on the far end of the cemetery. "Mama!" he cried, his voice breaking with panic as he turned back toward the village. "Mama, I found big bro!"

Within moments, Lia came running, her skirts soaked from the dew-laden grass. She gasped when she saw Arakh lying sprawled on the ground, his clothes muddied and his face pale.

"Arakh? Oh my god!" she exclaimed, dropping to her knees beside him. She gently cradled his head, her hands trembling as she brushed his wet hair from his face. "Darling!" she called over her shoulder, her voice tinged with urgency. "Quick, help me pick him up!"

Her husband, tall and sturdy, came rushing toward them. Together, they carefully lifted Arakh, his body limp and heavy with exhaustion.

"Is he okay, Mama?" Malfoy asked, his small voice trembling as he clutched the flower tightly.

Lia glanced at her son, her own eyes brimming with unshed tears. "He'll be okay," she said, more to reassure herself than anyone else. "Let's get him home."

As they carried Arakh away, the cemetery fell silent once more, the storm's aftermath lingering in the air—a quiet reminder of the power that had erupted the night before.