Phantom Heart

Hey guys. So, I am here to bring you the first chapter in this little story of mine. I can tell you I’m excited about the idea and I can’t wait to go further with it. Here’s to hoping you guys will share in my enthusiasm. Well, before we continue I must answer the lovely review I received for the prologue.

Sweet Surrender: Thank you very much, I’m so glad you liked it. I’m sure (and hoping) that the direction I go in will pleasantly shock you, but that is only a hope ^-^ Heh yeah, I was really starting to like Zeno the POP down he goes *shakes head* it sucks when you have to kill people before you really get to work with them. Again thank you very much for the review and I hope you continue to enjoy the story. ^-^

All righty, that’s about all for now, so please go ahead and enjoy the new chapter.

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A bird’s cry echoed through the forest. It reverberated off moss covered trees and giant, immobile rocks. The forest was quiet and serene. Squirrels scurried about the ground looking for food as bugs buzzed from blades of grass to overgrown bushes.

A bird took off from its nest and flew into the clear blue sky. Its wings flapped furiously as it soared up along the side of a gigantic building. It was an odd structure. Its sides were completely square, but it raised high into the sky, unlike any other building in the world. It was majestic in its own way. How it stood taller than any tree and how the sunlight glinted off its surface.

It was an ancient structure. Chunks of wall were missing and the very top of the roof had collapsed ages ago. All sorts of fauna grew at its base and climbed up its walls, as if trying to swallow it up and make it become one with the forest.

A silent figure crept along the side of the ancient ruin and slipped into the dense forest. From tree to tree they moved, keeping to the shadows. The prowler was in the form of that of a woman. She was tall, lean and toned. Firm muscles helped her move with agile grace.

Auburn hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail so her bright, alert hazel eyes could observe with no obstructions. Her chest was bound with a brown cloth to prevent unnecessary movement while running and tan leggings and a loincloth adorned her lower half. Her bare feet moved silently, dodging twigs that would snap and leaves that would crunch, every step more precise than the last.

When she came to a great overgrowth of bushes she took over and carefully peeked through them out into a small clearing.

“There you are. I’ve finally caught up to you,” she muttered as she spied the herd of deer she had been trailing for the last hour. There was one buck, four does, and two almost fully grown fawns; not babies anymore, but not quite adults. She disregarded the does and the fawns and trained her eyes on the buck.

He was a very big, sturdy animal with a beautiful set of antlers. He was the one she had come after. His hide would make for great clothes and his meat would last her awhile, not to mention his amazing antlers would supply her with a great amount of weapon materials. He was just too perfect.

As slowly and cautiously as she could she drew an arrow from the quiver on her back and lifted her handcrafted bow. She took her time in setting the arrow and, allowing one collective breath, she pulled back the string and aimed.

It all happened in an instant. The arrow whistled out from the bushes and sailed over the distance of the clearing and plunged into the neck of the buck. The clearing became an explosion of movement as the deer darted off into the cover of the forest, including the buck.

“Damn it,” she hissed as she leapt over her cover and took chase. The buck had been gravely injured, she knew that much, but there was no telling how far the animal’s pumping adrenaline would take it and she wasn’t about to lose her prize to some other predator.

She sprinted through the forest at top speed. She could hear the animal clambering through the woods ahead of her and, even though it was hurt, it seemed to be putting some distance between them.

The chase went on for several minutes until she could no longer hear the animal. The buck really was amazing. It was wounded and it still eluded her. She slowed to a trot to get her bearing and get a feel for where the animal went. A bit of the underbrush was trampled and a few twigs from the surrounding bushes and trees were snapped. Her fingers brushed against a dark spot on the ground and her fingertips were stained red.

“I’ve got you now.”

She began sprinting off after her prey, but skidded to a halt when a dark shadow glided over her from above. She directed her eyes to the sky and what she saw made her eyebrows furrow.

Vultures were circling overhead. An abnormal amount as well. They’d come into view for a second then disappear over the tree line then reappeared to complete their circle. They must have found something pretty large and tasty to attract so many of them.

She shook her head and brushed off the thought of them and went on her way, but stopped again and stared at the flock with curiosity. Her eyes went to the path the buck had gone then up to the vultures. She was conflicted.

“He won’t get far,” she finally decided then ventured off to where the vultures were. If anything she could become a scavenger herself and collect some material then go after her buck. Killing two birds with one stone was always more profitable in the end.

She traveled down to the Gibso River where she gauged the birds were at. It was the wrong time of year for a salmon migration, so something else must have attracted the birds’ attention.

The air became crisper with just a taste of moisture that tickled her tongue. The sounds of the river followed as she approached. The forest of trees abruptly ended and the sandy riverbank replaced the soil underneath her feet. She was spot on in her assumption. She could see a mound made up of the bald birds piled on top of their prey next to the river and more of the animals were swooping down from the air.

As they moved and fought each other she was able to get glimpses of their prey. She could just make out pink skin and a mane of black fur. When one bird hopped away she was able to see a front paw of the animal. No, it wasn’t a paw. It looked more like a…hand.

She gasped in horror. That was no animal the birds were trying to tear apart. It was a person! Not only that, but by the small stature of the person she realized it was a child.

She darted out from the safety of the woods and barreled towards the birds. She waved her hands in the air and made as loud of a racket as she could. Most of the birds took off in fright, but some of the more stubborn ones huddled around the child and stood their ground. She made short work of those by kicking them away and using her bow like a club to hit them away.

A flurry of feathers swirled around her and squawks of anger assaulted her ears as some of the birds left the area and others hopped around the perimeter, waiting for the assailant to leave so they could go back to their meal.

Once she was sure the birds were going to keep their distance she threw down her weapon and tore off her quiver as she dropped to her knees. The child was covered in scratches and wounds and was smeared with its own blood. Some gashes were deep, but not fatal.

The child was completely naked and lying on its stomach. She carefully rolled the little one onto its back. A little boy. His underside was less damaged, the ground providing protection from the attacking animals. She noted that the boy must have washed up onto the shore from the river since his ebony hair was damp and knotted and his skin felt slick underneath her fingers. He was unconscious and no amount of taps to the cheeks or shaking of his shoulders would rouse him.

“Come on, baby, wake up. It’s okay. Just wake up.” The words gushed from her mouth and were laced in panic. She placed her fingers on his neck, searching for a pulse. Her own quickened when she couldn’t find one and she lowered her ear to his chest. She willed for there to be a heartbeat, for any sort of sound to reach her ear. Nothing.

“Oh, God. Oh no. No, no, no. He’s just a child. Don’t let him die,” she prayed to a higher power. When she realized the hand of God wasn’t going to come down and bring life back into the boy, she decided to take matters into her own hands.

When she was younger her mother had once taught her a way to bring someone back from the brink of death. It required her to give her breath to the boy and, in essence, give him a bit of her life. She tilted the boy’s head back and plugged his nose so her breath wouldn’t escape his body. Once she coaxed his mouth open she placed her own mouth on his and exhaled. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his chest rise. She did this a few more times before sitting up and placing her hands on his chest, over his heart.

From the recesses of her mind she could hear her mother’s voice coaching her on as she began to quickly and swiftly beat on his chest. “Imitate a human’s heartbeat.” “Don’t be too hard if it’s a child. You could do more harm than good.” “Make sure to alternate between breathing in life and making a heartbeat. You can’t have one without the other.”

“Come on. Come on! You have to wake up,” she muttered in frustration, on the brink of tears when, after minutes of trying, the child remained in a death-like state. She filled his lungs once more with her breath and pulled back in alarm when it rushed back out at her.

A victorious cry left her and relief filled every fiber of her being when the little boy began to cough and gasp for air all on his own. She cooed soothingly to him and wiped strands of hair from his face as he struggled to take in air at a normal pace.

Eyelids fluttered open and eyes the color of stormy gray clouds stared up at her. The boy gasped and tried to scramble away from her, but cried out in pain and crumbled into a quivering heap.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, don’t be afraid,” she told him, wanting to hold and comfort him, but didn’t dare touch him in case she distressed him further.

The little boy stared at her for a moment with frightened eyes before taking in his surroundings. His gaze lingered on the vultures that were still loitering around the area and she could see that his fear was slowly turning into curiosity.

“That’s right. You’re safe. No reason to be scared,” she said softly and smiled when the boy blinked up at him. He seemed to be watching her mouth intently as she talked, so she decided to ask questions. “Can you tell me your name?”

His brows furrowed and a look of extreme concentration formed on his face. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but all that came out were a few soft grunts and whines. He then moved as if to get up, but his arms slipped from underneath him and he flailed. A keen wail came from him as the sand was pushed further into the wounds on his backside.

“Oh, it’s okay, baby. I need to go get you patched up,” she said and went to pick him up, but stopped. “Is it okay if I touch you?” she asked, but received little more than a perplexed look. She was beginning to get the feeling that he didn’t really comprehend what she was saying. To show what she meant she tentatively placed her hands on either one of his sides.

The boy flinched a little, and then stared at her hands. He then lifted one of his own hands and placed it on one of her arms. His hand was cold and clammy against her skin, and she was happy to find that he seemed more inquisitive about her than frightened. She slowly coaxed the boy to sit up then carefully placed his arms around her neck. He seemed to get the idea and held onto her as she arranged him so she was able to pick him up.

When he showed no signs of struggling she lifted him into her arms and stood up. He squeaked and held onto her tighter, but didn’t panic. She whispered soothing words to him as she held one arm under his rump to hold him up and picked up her equipment with the other.

“We’re going to go now. So hold on,” she told him as she began to walk away from the river. She smiled softly as his gray eyes widened and he began to look a thousand different ways, trying to absorb every detail of the forest as they entered it.

She needed to get him back to her village and get him looked at. With any hope there could be someone who recognized him and could give a clue as to where he came from. His parents were probably worried sick. All her thoughts were focused on the boy and any contemplation of her lost buck was gone. It was amazing how priorities changed in a matter of seconds.

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The village of Nellium was a small little place. A little less than two hundred people lived there, but the citizens thrived with the help of one another and the view was breathtaking. They were surrounded by nature. To the East was the overgrown forest that they relied on for their food and way of life and to the West was an open field with a dirt road that lead the way to the next town.

The woman sighed as she speed walked through the town. She was drawing a lot of attention to herself, though, she had to admit that she’d stared too if someone was walking through town while carrying a naked, bloody little boy. All she could do was smile and assure people everything was all right when they asked if she needed help.

She sighed in relief when she made it to the home of Mrs. Isabel Kelstorm, the village’s doctor. She didn’t bother to knock and simply let herself in. The smell of dried herbs and medical chemicals assaulted her nose and she shook her head to clear it. She laughed when the boy sneezed and squeaked afterwards, startled by his own noise.

“Abby! Abby, are you here?” she called out, as she set her bow and quiver against the wall.

“Is that you, Nania?” a voice called out from somewhere in the house. “I’m in the back, just come on in.”

Nania hiked the boy up a bit so it was more comfortable for her arm before heading for a door directly ahead of her. The room she entered was used for Isabel to see to her patients. Jars upon jars filled with plants, liquids, and other unknown objects lined the shelves around the room. Many surgical utensils lay on a nearby counter and a table for patients to sit on stood in the middle of the room.

In the corner of the room a woman was busy grinding something into a bowl. Nania recognized her instantly as her old friend Isabel. She was of average height and lithe form. Dark blond hair rested atop her head and was pulled back into a loose braid to keep out of the way. Even though Isabel wasn’t facing her, Nania knew smoldering blue eyes were intently focused on her work. Everyone thought she was a beautiful woman, which her cunning mind only enhanced.

They were roughly around the same age and had grown up together. The two were as different as night and day, but loved each other like sisters. Nania was fiercely independent and had always focused more on physical activities, which her muscled body proved and Isabel was known for being a bookworm and was highly intelligent, which would be why she chose to become the village doctor. Another difference between the two women was their home lives. While Nania lived alone and never took a husband, Isabel was happily married with a three year old son. They were two sides of the same coin and that fact had only strengthened their friendship over the years.

“So, let me guess, Ani” Isabel said when Nania entered the room. “You were chasing some poor, defenseless animal through the woods and followed it right off a cliff and sprained your ankle. Again.” Her voice was like a crystal clear chime of a bell and always soothed Nania, which was a good skill for a doctor.

“Not quite,” Nania said before her mouth was rudely invaded by little fingers. She stared at the quizzical little boy and wondered if all children were as interested in mouths as he was. She blew a rather loud raspberry around his fingers and grinned when the boy pulled them out with a squeal of laughter.

Isabel froze at the sound and whirled around. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the little boy in her friend’s arms.

“Now just who is this?” she asked in her soft voice, but all kind pretexts fell away when she observed the child’s back. “My God, what happened to him?” she asked as she strode over to look the wounds over.

“Vultures were trying to make him their next meal. Anything before that I have no idea,” Nania replied as she stroked the child’s hair. The boy had shrunk away and clung to her when Isabel approached. He spooked easily.

Isabel also noticed and gestured for her friend to place him on the examination table. When he was seated she allowed the child time to inspect her at his own leisure so he would become comfortable with her.

“Okay, start from the beginning,” Isabel said as she crouched down and let the boy touch her face.

“Well, you were right about the first part. I was chasing some poor, defenseless animal through the woods, but I was distracted by some vultures flying overhead. When I went to inspect what they were going for, I found him,” Nania explained.

“Where?” Isabel asked as she cautiously placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder. When he didn’t shy away she stood and began her examination, starting with his back.

“At the river. I’m guessing he washed up on the riverbank, but why he was in the river or where he came from is another matter,” the other woman answered.

“Hmmm, can you tell me your name, Sweetie?” she asked the boy with a charming smile. The result was exactly the same as Nania had. He simply stared at her with a quizzical expression, focusing solely on her mouth.

“Don’t feel bad, he did the same thing to me,” the taller woman said as she crossed her arms. “I’m getting the feeling he can’t speak.”

“Well, I’ll check his throat, but first I want to clean up his back. We don’t want any of these lesions to get infected,” she said as she went to gather some alcohol based, cleansing liquid from her supplies. “Since he seems to like you can I ask you to hold him? He’s probably not going to like this much.”

“Who does?” Nania retorted before turning her attention to the boy. “All right, come here, baby.” She was about to scoop him up, but stopped when he held out his arms to her. “Wow, you learn fast,” she praised with a smile as she picked him up. She took a seat on the table so Isabel had free access to his wounds.

“So, tell me, how do you think he got into the river and ended up here?” Nania asked as she waited, bouncing the boy on her lap to keep him occupied.

“To tell you the truth I wouldn’t know where to start thinking. There are far too many variables to consider. Maybe that bracelet he’s wearing can give us some sort of clue,” Isabel offered.

Nania stopped her bouncing, much to the dismay of the boy, and stared at her.

“Bracelet? What bracelet?” She took the boy’s hand in hers and examined his wrist and, sure enough, a silver chained bracelet with a small plaque adorned his wrist.

“You mean you didn’t notice it?” Isabel asked as she brought over a bowl of water, her antiseptic mixture and bandages.

“I guess I overlooked it in all the excitement,” Nania said as she examined the bracelet closely. She noticed that there were characters carved into the small plaque. She could make out some numbers; possibly a three and a five, or maybe an eight and a six. There were also some letters, but she didn’t recognize them. They seemed to be of a different language and comprehending unusual dialects was definitely not her strong suit.

“Look at this. I’ve never seen symbols like these.”

Isabel leaned in for a closer look, which left her hair vulnerable to attack from the boy’s free hand.

“How odd. I don’t recognize it either,” she said as she gently extracted the tiny hand from her locks. “But it may be some clue to his identity. If you want I’ll take it to Papo later to see if he knows anything about it.”

“Good idea. If anyone would know what language it is, it would be Papo,” Nania agreed.

Papo was an elderly scholar that lived in Nellium. No one used his real name – some would say they didn’t even know what his real name was – to them he was just Papo. He was seen as a Wiseman among the other citizens and highly respect. Even though he was getting on in years his wit was as sharp, or sharper, than a man in his prime. He was definitely the man to turn to for any sort of problem.

“All right, well, you better brace yourself,” Isabel said as she dipped a rag into the water bowl. “Here comes the unpleasant part.”

“Ooooh goodie. Okay, baby, something tells me this is going to hurt me more than its going to hurt you,” Nania said as she held him to her.

It didn’t start out so bad. The boy whined and squirmed as Isabel washed the dried blood off his body and made sure to remove all the sand from his wounds. It was when she moved onto the antiseptic that it became far more difficult. At the first touch of the liquid to his abrasions the boy screamed and cried and began to thrash about. It took all of Nania’s strength to hold him still and even more of her willpower not to tell Isabel to stop.

Soon enough the hard part was over and she spent a few minutes rocking the sniveling boy until he calmed down and simply clung to her for comfort.

“You did well,” Isabel said reassuringly as she set aside her supplies and took up the bandages.

“Yes, you did. Such a big boy,” Nania cooed as she pet the boy’s hair.

“Actually, I was talking to you.”

“Me?” Nania said, looking up at her in surprise.

“Of course. It’s always hard to see a child suffer. It’s that maternal instinct all women have.” Isabel smiled at her knowingly. “When I had to patch Elijah’s first boo-boo I was more hysterical about it than he was,” she said, referring to her son.

“Well, then we were both brave, weren’t we?” Nania asked the boy as she leaned back to look at him. He stared back with his big, gray eyes that were still teary, but held a certain amount of trust for the woman holding him.

“All right, I’ll dress his wounds then I’ll give him a full examination to make sure he’s healthy.”

It took a moment to pry the boy off Nania then he was sat back down on the table and Isabel began patching up the gashes with gauze and bandages. When she was done there was very little of his body that wasn’t wrapped up. After that was taken care of she went on to do a full examination. She checked his reflexes. Took his measurements to see how he was growing. When she gave him a once over she focused on his throat, feeling it for any abnormalities then having him open up to look inside his mouth.

“Well, as far as I can see there’s no damage to his vocal cords,” she said, tsking the boy when he tried to bite down on her little wooden tongue depressor.

“Then why isn’t he able to speak?” Nania asked, who was standing by patiently.

“I’m not quite sure…” Isabel murmured. She then ‘Hmmed’ as her eyebrows rose. “Well, that’s interesting.”

“What is?” the other woman asked worriedly.

“It’s nothing serious,” Isabel assured her. “It just seems that he hasn’t lost any of his baby teeth yet.”

“…should he have?”

“Each child is different, of course, but it’s normal for toddlers to start losing their baby teeth around three years old. But our little boy here seems to have all of his,” Isabel explained as she withdrew the depressor from the boy’s mouth and stood up.

“How old do you think he is?” Nania asked as she sat down on the table and smiled when the boy snuggled against her.

“Based on his current development I’m going to say he’s at least five years old, possibly a little older, but not by much.”

Nania looked down at the boy and her expression softened as she saw his little arms around her and his face nuzzled into her side. She stroked his head and her heart warmed when, for the first time, he smiled at her.

“Oh, little one, I wish you could tell us who you are and how you got here. Can’t you give us any clues?” she asked, but received no answer. “It’s odd. He can’t talk and it something just seems…off.”

“How do you mean?” Isabel asked.

“Well, it just seems like everything is new to him. I know he’s supposed to have child-like wonder, but everything seems new to him.”

“He is most likely in a place he’s never been before,” Isabel pointed out.

“But it’s more than that,” Nania insisted. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but even normal functions seem new to him. He sneezed when we first came here and from the way he reacted it was like he didn’t know he could do that.” She grunted when a little hand was placed on her face, fingers inching towards her mouth. “And he keeps doing that,” she said as she gently took his hand in hers and lowered it.

Isabel laughed and shook her head.

“That’s normal. Children learn from mimicking. When he sees your mouth moving he touches it to see how it moves and he will mimic the motions and that’s the first step to learning how to speak,” she said as she leaned back against a counter and studied the two. “If you like, I may have a theory about his unusual behavior towards the world.”

“Really?” Nania asked, instantly perking up. “I’m all ears.”

“I think it is quite safe to assume that whatever happened to this poor boy it was so traumatic that all that he has learned, how to speak, how to live, how to function, was all just…wiped away,” she said and her eyes were solemn.

“So, you’re saying he has amnesia?” Nania asked.

“What I’m saying is that whatever happened to him has made him regress back to an infant like state.”

“Will he get better?”

“Who knows?” Isabel said with a shrug of her shoulders. “The damage may reverse itself or he may have to relearn everything. I can’t give you a definite answer on what will happen.”

Nania sighed. It was all so sad. She went back to stroking the boy’s head and she noticed he was leaning against her again and that his eyes were closed. He had had a very long day.

“So, what are you going to do, Ani?” Isabel asked.

“About what?” Nania tore her eyes off the boy to look at the other woman.

“About him. We don’t know where he’s come from or how he got here. At the moment he’s all alone. Are you planning on taking him in?”

“Me?” Nania asked, sounding surprised. “Oh, no, babysitting Elijah is one thing but I’d have no idea how to take care of a child, especially one with such a delicate condition. You and I both know I’m not the most…motherly. And what about his family? They must be looking for him. I don’t want him to get attached to me and get confused when they find him.”

“Nania, in case you haven’t noticed, he’s already attached to you,” Isabel pointed out, gesturing to how the child clung to her, even when dozing. “Like it or not you’re the first one that he trusts. Taking you from him now or later will confuse him. If you’re really sure you can’t take care of him, I’m sure one of the other women here will take him in. If that’s what you want.”

Uncertainty clouded Nania’s features. What was she to do? She had never raised a child before, something she had no desire to do before, which was one of the reason’s she never found it necessary to marry. In the last few hours, though, she had already grown close to the little boy. He didn’t have anyone. He was all alone in a strange place. Could she really just pass him off?

As she mulled over her thoughts she studied the bracelet around his wrist. It was an odd trinket with words she didn’t understand. How had he received it? Did his mother give it to him? That gave her pause. The boy’s mother was probably going mad with worry about where her little boy went. She knew that if she ever lost her child that she would hope some loving, caring people would take him in and take care of him until she was able to find him…

“No,” Nania finally said. “You’re right, I can’t just leave him now. I’ll take him in until we find his family.”

“Wonderful!” Isabel cheered with a clap of her hands, accidentally waking up the boy. “I know you’ll do just fine. You may not believe in your motherly instincts, but I do and besides, I’ll be here to help you, you know you can always count on me to help. Plus, it’ll be great for Elijah to have another playmate.”

Nania chuckled and shook her head. She then looked down at the boy who had begun to pull at her cloth binding her chest. With a smile she lifted him up and placed him on her lap.

“So, what are you going to name him?” Isabel asked.

“Name him? I can’t name him. Won’t that just add to the confusion when his family finds him?” Nania said.

“Yes, but it’s not like we know his name. Are you just going to keep calling him ‘baby’ while you have him?”

“Hmm, I guess not. All right, what should I call you?” Nania asked the little boy, who simply stared back at her with his misty gray eyes. Possible names circled through her mind and she disregarded each of them. None of them seemed just right. Her eyes sparked when she had a thought. “I know what I’ll call him.”

“Don’t leave me waiting. You know I hate suspense,” Isabel insisted as she sat down beside her friend.

“I’m going to name him after my father. So, until we find your family,” Nania told the little boy. “Your name will be Xavien.”

=====================================Ch. 1 End

Heh okay, so I’m sure plenty of you are wondering ‘How the heck is this and the prologue related?’ well, it is, believe me. It’ll be made clearer in the second chapter, I assure you. But so far I like Nania, she’s a very strong, loving woman (even if she doesn’t think she is) and little Xavien is so cute. He’s a dear to write for.

So, what does the little boy’s mysterious arrival mean? Who is he and where did he come from? These are all things you’ll have to come back to find out, so I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I hope to see you at the next one. Until then, laters! *huggies and lickies*