Hasan

Chapter One: A Wonderful Day

It started out as an ordinary day. I awoke and broke my fast. I was expected at the clinic, so once I gathered my tools and lunch, I headed out. Shalia, the capital city of Feander and the place I decided to create a home seventy years ago, is one very small mountain dissected into districts from top to bottom. My home and clinic, along with the poor and debased, resides in Low District located at the bottom and literally inside the large hill. Low District residents live in perpetual darkness with only the light they create and the strings of light that the city provides and powered by magic. The locals dubbed the district, Firefly District because all these little bright lights float above and around your head. It is a festival of fireflies and I cannot imagine living anywhere else.

I stop in my foyer before leaving my home and take the time to center myself. I do this every time I plan to leave. This ritual is crucial for my survival because I am not a human. Instead, I am a chiweninanna, a race with strong empathetic powers. We feel everything and can force others to feel what we are feeling without even trying. It is as natural as breathing and it is the focal point of our culture. We train ourselves to divulge in emotions and control our emotions preventing and protecting other beings from feeling. It would be more comfortable to live with if everyone did this, but I live with humans and they…don’t hold back. Every day, a sledgehammer pounds into me until I enter my sanctuary, my home. I place barriers around my house shielding me from the outside. I can relax and be allowed to not hold back. When I am around other people, I need to be aware whose emotions belong to whom and prevent from being influenced by other’s emotions and vice versa. I can never let my guard down, but it is worth the pain to have a chance just being around them. So, I perform my little ritual and quiver with excitement and dread, wanting to know what today will feel like. I find my center, and open the door.
Once outside, the emotions of my fellow neighbors greet me for the first time of the day. All the general and complex emotions are there, but the overall mood for Low District was an exuberant and joyful feeling.

"Today will be wonderful," they say.

The shops were just opening for the day and customers from the taverns were heading back home as I walked down the street towards the clinic. Beyond my line of sight, I could feel the occasional struggle and other encounters that happen between two people. Ignoring their emotions, I concentrate on walking and dredge up information I garner from the local merchants and newsprints knowing I would need to speak to my banker about certain investments I was interested in. The trip did not take long and soon I was a block from my destination when the ordinary day changed to…well…shit, I suppose.

Approaching the clinic, I was struck with pain. The clinic disappeared. My thoughts scattered. The pain was the only thing that I could see, feel or notice. I was being ripped from the inside out by a thousand claws. The wind was knocked out of me, and after, I couldn’t remember how to breathe. People walked by, ignoring my plight, as I collapsed onto the ground. No one noticed or thought to help. It is assumed you are just drunk, but they helped when I started vomiting blood. Some bent down to see if they could do anything for me while others sprinted to the clinic to get the professionals. At that point, old instincts kicked in and I pushed the pain into a corner of my mind. I rose off the ground forcing my legs to hold me up. The air that I desperately needed finally ventured back into my lungs. Damage was still being dealt upon my body but my mind was free to assess the situation.

'Where? What? It isn’t me. The problem isn’t me.'

Emotions, an abundance of them, ran throughout my body. Fear, horror, anger, confusion, and much, much more. I could also feel physical pain other than my own. Usually, I would need to be in close proximately and even in physical contact to feel someone’s pain unless a mass of people were involved. Concentrating on that thought, I focused on where this pain was coming from.
Above and slightly to the north of me, I could feel it. My limbs were being severed. My body was being crushed. I was suffocating. And then, I was saved from death’s embrace when my fellow peers shook me and brought me back to where I really was. “Hasan, we’re going to carry you. We need to get you to the clinic,” one of them said.

The voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t focus and determine who. My cheeks were wet and the taste of copper was on my tongue. I knew I needed to be seen but my concern wasn’t on me. “No, we need to go to Middle District, now. Grab supplies and whatever else. This might take awhile.”

They were confused and persistent on taking care of me. Unfortunately, I was adamant about going to Middle District so we compromised. They prepare, pack and close the clinic while one of them, Ada Rask, saw to me.

The others left leaving Ada and me to stare at each other. Being half my size, I could not lean on her without falling, and I was afraid that I would be unable to get up again. Instead, I slowly dragged myself to the clinic. All the while, Ada followed watching my progress and making sure I wouldn’t stumble on anything. With her dark features and her tendency to be silent, she blended in with the shadows around us causing me to think that I was alone. It did not help to distract me from the emotions up above, but thankfully, the pain that I felt earlier was gone.

Inside, Ada took me to triage where we see most of our patients. I sat, and while she cleaned me up, I could see the rest of the crew running every which way and bundling up supplies.

'They never asked why.'

Ada, finished cleaning the mess I made of myself, couldn’t find anything wrong with me. I was not surprised. The sudden bombardment of emotions wasn’t the cause of my collapse but the pain that was imparted to me. With the pain gone, my body was no longer in danger or distress. I feared that when we get closer to where everything is, the pain will come back, but I will be prepared for it the next time around. We both agreed, though, that I should rest until everyone else was ready to leave and that I should eat. We, chiweninannas, heal and recover very quickly from injuries, sickness, and poison. Unfortunately, we become extremely ravenous afterwards. Actually, by my experience, everything made me hungry.

A few hours later, we were ready. The two strongest pulled the cart while the rest walked beside. The locals watch us as we went by. I did not need my ability to know what they were feeling. Curiosity. No one, though, asked where we were heading to.

The quickest way to Middle District is the lift. It is a magicked platform in the center of the hill that moves up and down through all districts including the Royal District where our king and his family live. City guards are placed at every stop, and you can predict the grade and number of guards by the district. Low District has only two guards posted and they usually participate in the festivities. In which case, we did not encounter them, but we were also unable to use the lift. Whatever happened, it disrupted the lift disconnecting us from the rest of the districts up above. It did not discourage us but only redirected us to another route.

Going pass the lift, we proceeded to the port, the only connection to the outside. The port has its own lift for carrying shipments uphill. The only difference, other than being outside, is speed. It was made to carry heavy cargo and the drawback is the loss of speed.

At the entrance to the port, we were deterred again. The morning light reminded our eyes that they were used to the dark. We had to stumble out of traffic’s way unable to move forward until our eyes adjusted. I recovered first, my chiweninanna genes at work and I see the sun occasional compared to my peers. Deciding we could not be held back any longer, I approached the closest person near me, Ada.

'My shadow for the day.'

Her brown, almost black, eyes were tearing at the corners. It was obvious she couldn’t see anything with the way she was squinting and using her hands to guide her. I covered her eyes with my hand and did what I do best, heal.
There was a trick my ancestors found that has come in handy in many situations. We experience people’s pain. When in mass, it is quite harmful. Individually, depending on how emotionally connected we are to the person, we need skin to skin contact to feel the physical feeling that the person s having. Being empaths, we can make other’s feel what we are feeling, experience what we are experiencing. In other words, we can make our chiweninanna genes work for them as well.
Quickly, I healed everyone’s eyes and set off towards the port lift. Looking up, I saw birds flying in a clear sky.

'Thank heavens for no rain.'