All Things Eternal (Book 2) (7 page)

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” Skye said with a smile. “I wanted to.”

“Thanks.” Omari smiled at his sister again, but this time the light of the moon hit his cheek. The gash he tried to conceal on his face was fully visible now, crusted over with dried mud and flaked blood.

“You’re hurt!” The light in Skye’s eyes sharpened at the sight of her brother’s injury. Skye raised her hand to Omari’s cheek but he gently grabbed her wrist before she could touch his face.

“Don’t. Save your strength. You know it takes a lot out of you. You’ll burn through what you just ate…I’ll be fine by morning, I promise.” The tension from holding his right hand parallel to his head made Omari’s ribs scream in pain, causing him to wince as he held his position. Skye retracted her hand as her smile dissipated and replaced it with a soberness far beyond her years.

“Did you…hurt him?” she asked as she directed her gaze at the falling rain outside of their makeshift tent. Omari looked to her, distraught by the question of his younger sister. For a second he forgot that Skye had a unique view of the world; an unparalleled sense of empathy. Through her eyes, whenever she focused, she could see the imprint of the emotions around her. They were like colors that bled through the individual, an aura that was always twisting and changing depending on the heart’s cry. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, Omari’s sadness leaked from him, polluting Skye’s atmosphere.

“No. It was us who stole from him...it wouldn’t have been right,” Omari responded before returning his eyes to the contraband he held in his soiled hands. He was playing with it. Slowly twirling it between his fingertips as his weary eyes measured the merits of his coming meal. His appetite had left him, though his body craved the sustenance. As he eyed his meal, a warm embrace engulfed him even though his body was soaked from the rain.

“Don’t be sad,” Skye said as she squeezed him tight. “Things will get better.”

“Yeah, I know,” Omari whispered as he looked to Skye, who was now resting her head on his shoulder. As Skye’s hands held steadfast around him, he felt the aches and pains he harbored slowly begin to melt away. It was Skye and her embrace. Through her touch, she willingly released a small portion of her energy to nurse her wounded brother. “Skye…”

Skye lifted her head from her brother’s shoulder, seemingly confused at her brother’s remark. “What?” Omari studied the gleam in her eyes as she looked to him. They were innocent and unassuming. Omari knew she meant no harm with her actions. She simply wanted to help as much as possible.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t laugh. You know thunderstorms scare me!”

“Yeah, I know…it’ll be okay. Get some sleep.” Skye nestled her head into her brother’s shoulder once more before closing her eyes. He could tell she was genuinely tired. A long day on a young body can tear down even the strongest of souls. Skye leaking her energy would tire her out more so. He knew her plan, but he wasn’t going to detest it if it gave her peace of mind. Ever since her powers began to manifest, lighting and thunder had been the least of her fears. As Omari watched the rain fall from their tent, his mind ran blank as he struggled to remember the last moment that storms had actually been an issue for her. A chuckle slipped from his lips when he realized it was at least two years ago.
Clever.
Omari’s smile widened further at the revelation that his side no longer bothered him.
She’s a sneaky one,
Omari thought as he turned his head to look at his sister who was now sleeping peacefully.
Don’t worry, Skye. You’re right…things will get better. I promise. Just hang in there a little bit longer.

Chapter 7: Omari’s Heart Part Two-- A Prayer in the Wind

12 Years Ago

Before he knew it, the rain stopped and it was morning. As Skye gently slept, Omari kept watch periodically through the night, fighting the fatigue that constantly clawed at his back. But alas, it was sunrise. From the opening of their makeshift home, Omari saw the beams of soft sunlight graze the rooftops of the slums. There was comfort in the light. At least he knew people would be around
—the good kind. Soon the slums would come alive just like he saw everyday for as long as he could remember. The city, brimming with energy while people were making their way through life.

“Skye.”
Omari nudged his sister gently, waking her from her sound slumber. “Sleep okay? It’s morning now.”

“Already?”
Skye sleepily responded as she sat up from her brother and rubbed her eyes.

“Gloves,” Omari said dully. “Don’t forget to put them on before the people show up. Hand me the cup while you’re at it.”

“Do I have to?” Skye whined as she groggily reached for the worn cup from their weathered supply bag and placed it at her brother’s feet.

“Yes. If something happens, you know it could mean trouble. Not until you’ve got a better grasp on your abilities. When things settle down, you can take them off again. I know it sucks but it’s better to be safe than sorry,” Omari said as he pushed the cup forward, moving it closer to the entrance of their temporary home. When the people came, usually they’d drop some spare change and the like if they were feeling generous. The first wave came in the morning, the second, around lunch. By nightfall, people were mainly preoccupied with themselves or their families, so charity was few and far between.

“Happy now?” Skye said as she flicked her wrist in her brother’s direction.

“Delighted,” Omari said with a chuckle, his eyes overseeing the miserable landscape that he was ashamed to call home. Lost in thought, Omari surveyed the damaged housing and the muddy roads that entrenched them, the same theme that crept into his mind like an old melody that refused to be forgotten.
Is there even a way out?
With no family and their unique disposition, the thought of their future always left him without answer. In his heart, Omari always felt like maybe for he and Skye it would be different, but for so many others to meet their fate in a similar fashion, he often wondered what made him or her any different.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Skye asked with slanted brows, her soft expression clearing the murky waters that clouded Omari’s vision.
“The usual, right? Best get to it.”

“Yeah.”
With a sudden awareness, Omari responded before staring at the worn, empty cup that rested at his feet. Mornings were usually when charity was at its highest. Beg till lunch and then get something to eat was usually the plan. In the meantime, thinking about ways to get out would come to mind whenever surviving drifted to the backline. After lunch, they’d try to catch another wave, which usually consisted of people grabbing for their own change after a well-deserved meal. God willing, they’d give, but only on occasion.

With the extra taxes and penalties
orchestrated by the king, poverty was the norm. The people, of course, longed for change but with the Vanguard practically at their throats, what should have been a scream was often times only released as a grumble, and even then there was a price to be paid. Saying the wrong thing to the wrong person often resulted into a beating or at least a regrettable encounter with the law. They were untouchable. A spiritual predecessor of the greater evil known as the king, overlord of the lower divisions. Work, struggle, live, survive, sleep. That was all there was to life, and with every day, the battle began yet again.

Before long, the slum streets filled with life with the start of a new day. Over the passing hours, Omari watched as his cup steadily filled with coins and other items. The regulars would drop something off every now and then but were careful not to get attached. He and Skye knew them by face, but never by name. It was better that way. How else could one rationalize leaving two children on the side of the street unattended? Help while you can, when you can, but ultimately their lives rested in their own hands. That was the way of the slums.

“Hey, we have enough now. Let’s get something to eat before it’s too late,” Omari said as he looked down into the half-filled cup that sat at his feet.

“Okay. How are you feeling? Do you want me to go and get the food? I can get it for us. I know where to go.”

“I’m fine. We can go together. It’ll be nice to go for a walk. It’s nice today considering the rain we had last night.” Omari knew better than to ever let Skye out of his sight. People were cruel, and even the most sincere of people were capable of the nastiest things given the right circumstances.

“Hmm…”

“What’s wrong, Skye?” Omari watched her as a look of concern spread across her face.

“We’re going to pay back the store keeper from yesterday, right?”

“Of course…plus extra. I think he has a family and they’re not doing to good.”

The burden that was on Skye’s heart lifted at the sound of the good news, even though Omari confessed his plans with a torn heart.

“Good! I thought you forgot about him.”

“How could I?” Omari said as his gaze slipped from his sister and landed on the ground that rested between his worn boots. He remembered every blow that night. The hate the old man felt for him as well as the apathy he felt for himself. Enduring beatings for food wasn’t the life he had in mind, and if he let it, dwelling on his misfortune would only lead to more heartache. “Alright,” Omari said as he brushed the dirt from his tattered pants. “Let’s get a move on. Pack your things.”

As Skye scrambled to secure her belongings, Omari grabbed their cup of coins before he stood to his feet. As he studied the cup, his eyes stared blankly at its contents as he jolted his wrist swiftly into the air. “Hmm.” His wrist fell down with the returning energy of the collective metal hitting the bottom of the container.
Good. Looks like we have enough, and then some.
“Any preference on what we eat today?” Omari asked Skye as she put the remnants of their belongings into the tan sack she would soon wear on her back.

“No, not really.
Just as long as we have enough for ourselves and for that man we stole from yesterday, I’ll be good.”

“Right…don’t worry about that. Just leave it to me. But no preferences whatsoever?”

“Nope.
You know I’m not picky.”

“Okay then. Come on.” Omari extended his hand to Skye and together they ventured out of their makeshift home and onto the city streets.

As they traversed through the slums, Omari kept a wandering eye as he ventured out into the open. There were stares from all around, few of concern and a majority of disgust. To the outside world they were just two dirty kids walking the streets unattended. Another problem that was failed to be addressed by a failing system. Skye seemed to be oblivious to the glares, but Omari couldn’t shake the feeling that protruded from their piercing eyes. It was the feeling of being worthless that hurt him the most. Like a weight shackled to his feet, it plagued him ever since his parents abandoned him and his sister. In the years of hardship that followed, the chains only grew stronger, solidifying themselves to his persona.

Driven by instinct alone, Omari began to walk faster as he felt a slow, smoldering hate begin to
blossom in pit of his gut. In his mind, he began to walk a path he had long since ventured.
How could they have left us in this shit hole? Fuck them.
As he looked ahead, Omari no longer saw the incessant void that was the slums, but instead, a vision birthed by hate, guilt, and shame. A mirage of their parents the day they left them to fend for themselves.
I don’t need them. I don’t need anybody!
As the illusion faded, Omari was once again reunited with the judging faces that watched from afar.
Let them watch.
His passive expression sank downwards as he returned the very glare that offended him, all the while quickening his pace.

“
Oww, you’re hurting me!” Omari stopped and looked to Skye as she pulled her hand away from his. She massaged the lining of her palm as she studied him with questioning eyes. Omari said nothing but only because Skye already knew. In that moment, she felt what he felt and saw the storm that hovered over her brother’s heart.

“I’m…sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t like it when they stare, either,” Skye said as she reattached her hand to his. The rising storm that brewed left as quickly as it came, leaving only a singe of guilt as an afterthought.

“Yeah…you too, huh?”
Skye was a perceptive child. Just from reading Omari’s emotions, she was able to address what she thought was the root of her brother’s problems. It was a good guess, but the lingering pain was not from the bystanders but from his own resentment for not telling Skye that they were abandoned. In all of his years, Omari never had the heart to confront the demon that taunted him in the night and let it mingle to its own devices. Originally, he did it to spare her emotions, but as he grew, he often speculated if his actions were to truly save her or instead to protect himself. It would kill him to watch her face turn as he told her about the note or the sudden disappearance. It would destroy any child to know that they were unloved and thought to be an affliction. That’s why he lied to her. The story he told her was that they died for their sake, an epic last stand against the ones who threatened to take their children’s lives so that they could escape.

It always left a bitter taste in Omari’s. The lies sat well when Skye was younger, but now, perhaps she knew. From time to time, Omari wondered but never dared to turn that stone. They rarely talked about them now, but when they did, Omari was always sure to keep the conversation brief. He could tell that she idolized them, or at least wanted to, but Omari found no comfort in his lie. At the very least, he was satisfied that the world had not yet tainted his sister’s heart.

“Mhm. I don’t worry about it,” Skye said as she smiled. “I just focus on the good in the world.”

“Oh, really?”
Omari said as they both continued to walk. “And what is that?”

“Well,” Skye tilted her head back, letting her dark hair fully extend past her shoulders as she looked up at the shining sun, “the sun’s shining. The birds are singing. The leaves are green…um, I’m okay, and you’re okay…I know people can be mean out here but for every bad person in the world, I’m sure there’s two more that are good. Just trust me on this, I feel it.”

“Yeah, I feel it, too.”

“Don’t call me crazy, but I had this dream one night that everything was okay. We were older and happier and everything was alright. I’m not stupid. I know things are bad, but when I have dreams like that one, it keeps me going. One day this will all be over, and we won’t have to worry ever again.”