[Ties] Skirmish 1

Skirmishes are side stories.

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At home, in the Eskur village.

"Mama, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It feels awkward, Mama."

Malachi was in his room, lying in bed and facing a wall. Behind him was, relatively embarrassingly, Bashia. She had gone into bed with him, hugging him close to her. Now, if one were to look at this objectively, it would seem to be a mother doting on her son. But, as it was, Malachi was mentally mature for his age due to being reincarnated. A beautiful woman, his mother especially, being in close proximity that both would feel the heat of their bodies is lying in bed, hugging him close.

One of Malachi's mental capacity would be flustered.

"Do you feel embarrassed?" asked Bashia, "I'm just your Mama, right?"

"Mama, huh?" mumbled Malachi.

Malachi became silent for a while and let Bashia do what she wanted with him. However, he suddenly spoke and told her a story of his past.

"I never had a mother to call my own, back then." he said, "The first memory I had was the face of my father or the person who claimed to be my father, but a father nonetheless."

Bashia silently listened.

"Father had told me once that I suffered from amnesia, saying that it was the cause for me not remembering anything before our meeting. The first time I met him, I was 18 years old. Already an adult by then, but treated as a child as well. Maybe, due to my 'amnesia' I really was a child."

"There were two others with me. An adoptive sister who was younger than me, and an adoptive brother who was older than me. Father introduced us to one another to become family. Although I did have a father and siblings, not once did he speak about me having a mother."

"Maybe it was a memory so painful that he didn't want to remember. Maybe I never had a mother and was like my adoptive siblings, one who was adopted. Time passed, and my father adopted more children into our family."

"When I asked him, 'Why did you adopt so many?' He replied, 'It is for this world's future.' I never understood what he meant by that. I asked my adoptive siblings as well, yet they didn't understand much. All we know was that father educated us, raised us, took care of us. Not once did we ever think to betray his trust... His... Love for us."

"What was your father, if I may ask?" interrupted Bashia.

"An academic, a philosopher, a radical, a statesman, a revolutionary. Take what you will. Others just saw him as a madman, bent on destroying the world. And that's what he did, destroy the world."

"... If... If he said that... You were held the future of the world..." said Bashia, "Then why?"

"Because the world destroyed him. Before the end began, he tried to destroy the false peace that was a cancer to the prosperity of man. The 'peace' we had before was an illusion made by the greedy to feed on the poor. He once told us, 'Peace breeds corruption, corruption breeds contempt, contempt breeds conflict, conflict breeds war.' but the peace we had was stagnant, never moving, never evolving. If mankind needed a common goal to act, then a goal was given to mankind."

"Father proclaimed to the world, to take it upon himself, and become the one enemy they must unanimously defeat. Yet undefeated he became. He gave a test to each of the world leaders, yet each of them failed despite being given the chance to work hand in hand. He gave them three weeks to pass his test before he delivered his ultimatum."

"In his struggles, we, his children, helped him achieve his vision of a new world order. A grand sacrifice, a great martyr that will be remembered for generations to come. Yet the world failed him. The world still failed him. Political infighting between international leaders hindered the progress of all, profits over losses even when the losses had already outweighed the profits due to their greed. Blinded by greed, corrupted by greed."

"'This world has no need for leaders who only think of themselves.' said father, 'Even if I had appeared to the masses as the enemy of all, cowards are still cowards.' That's when the world was beginning to end. A drastic plan for a drastic future that, if it succeeded, would change the world and humanity for all eternity."

"Yet, even with all that, I had yet to meet my mother. All I could recall was my father. My brothers and sisters, none of us had mothers to call our own. In the end, I died, unsure of what happened afterwards to the rest, to my siblings, to my father, and to the world. Was my father defeated, or did he succeed in the rapture?"

Both of them were silent for a while.

"If there is a god, I wonder if this is compensation to my longing for a mother?" wondered Malachi, "Yet, this world will be in turmoil whether I want to or not. With Pops being an heir candidate to the throne, and my uncle as well, politics never seem to change wherever the place may be."

Malachi turned to face Bashia, and embraced her.

"Let me be like this for a while longer, Mama." he requested.

Bashia stroked Malachi's hair, and pulled him in closer.

"You've had a long and hard life." she said, "Use this chance to take a break from all your troubles. Sleep, and rest your weary soul, my child."

Cavaron never happened here.