Amel

Busy day at the epicenter of a populous town. A miscellanea of locals and foreigners. Not far from the Town Square, our troupe had rented an open ground to practice for a spectacle that was to be held the following week.

“Only a week left!” The ringmaster brandished a whip, “Get all your asses up or I’m going to have to drop some of you!”

All the performers of our troupe scurried to their feet, including me. We wasted no time. Straight to practice. The fear of the whip fueled us, drove us past our limits.

A disastrous rehearsal for me – hand slipping off the trapeze, failed somersaults, imperfect landings. Two lashes from the ringmaster and I was back to the sisyphean labor.

Another attempt, another failure, inviting three more lashes. My back burned. Tears welled up but I wiped them off before the vicious man could see. Trial after trial I tried, yet there was no sign of progress. The whip charred my whole body until the only unravaged part was my face, bare and helpless.

A massive crowd had gathered. Onlookers grimaced at the cold-blooded castigation. They muttered among themselves, “Oh my! Someone should stop this.” I looked at the masses, “Someone, anyone, please save me,” I cried a silent prayer.

“Thank you all for coming,” The ringmaster announced with wide arms and circled around me, “Today, you shall witness an impromptu show unlike any other.” He clenched my hair. With a grin, he whispered in my ear not to resist.

“This vermin has been living among us as an ordinary boy,” he glared at me. I knew his intention and shook my head vehemently. He sneered, “He’s no ordinary boy though,” A dramatic pause, “Today, I shall enlighten all of you with his true identity.”

The crowd riled up.

“See these lashes on the scoundrel,” he displayed my raw wounds, “Fifty six lashes. Any ordinary human child would be bleeding by now, possibly even dead. But this rascal hasn’t. I think we all know why!”

The entire crowd gasped en masse.

“Yes, all of you guessed right!” He turned at me, “A half-breed, that’s what he is! Lowest of the lowest. I shall surrender his fate to your righteous judgment. Now, how shall this rascal be chastised?”

The ringmaster had incited the masses. Vitriols spewed from all directions. Pity turned to fury. A list of retribution – hang him, whip him to death, burn him, throw him to the beasts, guillotine, poison gas among other punishments.

“Death by the whip it is!” The ringmaster declared.

A cacophony of jeers. “Whip! Whip! Whip! Whip!” The horde roared in unison. As the ringmaster let go of me, I groveled. “Where do you think you’re going?” His face contorted. He moved towards the crowd, flaunted his whip. I looked on as he drew nearer, awaiting the inevitable.

A raised whip. “This is the end fo-”

“Stop this madness at once!’ A man from the crowd pushed his way through and wrapped me in his arms, “I’m not going to allow you to hurt this child anymore.”

My consciousness was fading and I struggled to make sense of everything that transpired after the man’s arrival. A hostile argument erupted between the man and my tormentor which turned physical. A group of sturdy, armed men came to my savior’s aid. The situation diffused thereafter. The ringmaster’s air of superiority vanished and apologies spurted out from his conceited mouth, now humbled. My vision obscured until I blacked out.

••••••••

I awoke in a room, furnished with marble walls and ceramic floor. I laid in a bed covered with a bedsheet so fluffy that half of my body sank in it. Bandages and stitched wounds covered me.

A lady in a maid’s dress passed by the door, saw me and ran off without a word.

A minute later, my savior came dashing and took a seat by the bed. He held out his hand but I flinched so he rested it beside me.

“Young boy, what’s your name?” He wore the most affectionate smile I’d seen since the day I ran away from home.

“Am- Amel Daevers.” I tugged the blanket.

“Amel, that’s a nice name.” He patted my head.

“Hungry. I’m hungry,” I muttered.

He leaned towards me, “You’re hungry?’”

I nodded and he requested a maid to bring me food and water. I ate everything in an instant and gobbled down the water. Then, he wiped my cheeks with his napkin. As he did so, I felt his skin against mine which was rough yet his touch felt tender.

My mind analyzed him as he sat in front of me. He had a polished face, a mole near his left eye. Garnet hair of ear length, trimmed beard, pointed nose. I presumed he was a foreigner owing to his round sapphire eyes. He had broad shoulders, his height was taller than average (compared to the people in my country), warm beige skin. Possibly in his late thirties.

He asked me some questions and I gave quick answers. I asked him questions too and he replied with genuine enthusiasm. He introduced himself as Zolva Dorr. He’d come from a foreign country, Eirenai. He was on a business trip and would be going back home the following day.

“Please don’t leave me alone here, I’m scared.” My body trembled and my voice was coarse.

He caressed me. “I’m not going to leave you alone, dear,” he lightened up, “And you’re not going back to that man, got it?”

“Mmm,” I agreed.

“Now go back to sleep. A busy day awaits us tomorrow.”

He hummed me a tune till I fell asleep. I had a dream where my father carried me as a baby. He slipped and I flew in the air. Before I hit the ground, Zolva caught me. I wasn’t a baby anymore. As Zolva carried me and we glided, my father waved us goodbye. Then he turned to dust and the wind carried his ashes far, far away.

••••••••

Zolva carried me on his lap as we traversed across borders in a high-class train. I peered out of the window. A wave of amazement came upon me.

The train stopped. We got off and boarded a Mana-car. The door was opened by a stout man cladded in a black suit. As we passed by a towering arched aureate gate, a guard halted us but apologized to Zolva without any delay upon seeing him.

The car stopped in front of another arched gate, not as high as the previous and ornamented with flowers I’d never seen. The pavement ahead led to a palatial mansion. Zolva held my hand as we walked. When we reached the porch, he stopped, turned to me, placed his hands on my shoulders and smiled.

“Welcome to your new home, Amel.”

••••••••

(One year later)

“Amel, dinner’s ready!”

“Coming, mama.”

I’d gotten used to my new home. My new parents, Zolva and his wife Jasmine adored me and spoiled me rotten. Dinner talk – father and mother conversed about my to-be sister. I was ecstatic; I’d always yearned for a sibling (now I have four).

The people in Eirenai were more accepting of half-breeds, albeit there was the occasional stares, passive aggression, teasing by other kids but the teachers disciplined such behavior.

Father had retired from his post as the Foreign Affairs Minister of Eirenai and ventured into farming; his enterprise flourished (and is still flourishing). He donates most of the yields to non-profit organizations and shelters.

The most altruistic person I know, my father spent a huge portion of his time with little children, playing with them, teaching them, participating in social activities with them, visiting children’s hospitals. He still adores children, but of late, he’s been frail and has been advised by his doctor not to exert himself.

••••••••

My father’s farm occupies a sizable portion of the outskirts of Eirenaius East, an Insaniac Beast attack prone area. This brings me to my second reason for enrolling.

I know that even if I were to labor my entire life, I’d never be able to repay my father for everything he’s done for me. So fighting the beasts’ one of the things I can do to show him my gratitude. I want to safeguard the farm my father established, I want to become a person at least half as compassionate as him, someone who gives without anticipating returns.

••••••••

I’m done narrating ‘A Series of Misfortunate Events for Amel Daevers’ to Noah. I told him an abridged version though, omitting details here and there. I gaze at him awaiting his response.

Mid-narration, I’d noticed that our hands adjacent to each other had clasped. I made a silent wish that he wouldn’t pull away his hands. My heart’s so jumpy right now it could leap out of my chest, smash a massive hole in the door and still have enough momentum to penetrate steel.

A tear wells up in Noah, he breaks our hold and wipes his tears off.

“Sorry, I-” Noah clears his throat, “You’ve gone through so much.” He strokes my hair.

“Do you mind if I ask you for a hug?” I turn down to hide my flushed face.

Without a word, he cuddles me and fondles me. I hold him tight and the waterworks let loose.

We stayed like that until my eyes dried out.

**********