The Blessed Seed
A High Fantasy Short Story
Xenos pulled his hooded cloak tighter around him, shielding himself from the cold of the night.
Walking briskly down a lone path leading to the hilltop at the outskirts of the village, he threw furtive glances around.
Although he did this every fortnight, he still needed to be careful. If the villagers found out he was visiting the Blessed tree, they’d know he was one touched with the Gift and would report to the village elders.
Xenos shivered at the thought of what they would do to him. Worse yet, what would happen to his sister, who was suffering the curse of the plague?
Don’t think like that! he chastised himself. She’d be fine this time. What’s the point of collecting the Blessed fruits if you wouldn’t believe?
Walking uphill, Xenos blended into the night, his black cloak wrapped around him, making him almost invisible. Looking up, he could see it- the lone tree at the very top of the hill.
Its branches spread out in all directions, large enough to cover the entire hill with its lush foliage. Its leaves and peach-like fruits were riddled with glowing spots, brightening up the area.
The Blessed tree.
It was a sight to behold. Or at least it would have been if all that beauty and splendor spread to the other side. The branches which spread out to the other side were bare, devoid of fruits and leaves.
The tree was dying because of the plague.
Xenos stared at it, his eyes tracing the barren branches until it landed on the horizon. He could see the entire village from here.
But beyond the glowing lights of the village torches was the darkness that stretched on.
A deserted wasteland.
The only thing standing in that ominous place was the mysterious witch tower shrouded in mist.
According to the stories he’d heard since he was little, there was an evil witch up in that tower. She was the source of the plague that nearly wiped out the entire village; his parents included—the same plague which still ravaged the village to date.
Ever since then, in their rage, those who survived the plague hunted down anyone with the Gift. The ‘magic users’- as they were so often called. And since they were already so few, it was easy to wipe them out.
But once in a while, one with a Gift would be born in the village; however, if found out, they would be killed. Being a ‘magic user’ became illegal.
Xenos knew that having the Gift wasn’t a bad thing. It was the blessing bestowed upon them from the Divine, granting them the ability to influence events and control supernatural forces. But the people wouldn’t accept.
Xenos was lucky to have parents who could keep his secret so well. But now they were gone because of the plague, leaving him to care for his little sister- Arya- who was on the verge of giving in to the grip of the plague.
Xenos gritted his teeth, a lump forming in his throat. He couldn’t lose his sister too.
He didn’t know who he hated more, the evil witch who placed the curse of the plague on them or the heartless people who hunted and killed the very ones who had a chance of saving them.
Suddenly, there was the shuffle of hurried feet. Xenos whipped around, afraid he had been found out.
Seeing no one, he breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he had imagined it. Still, Xenos remained cautious.
Feeling like he was being watched, he pulled his hood tighter around him and took out a small basket from within the folds of his cloak.
Whispering some intangible words, he activated the power of his Gift, and dozens of blessed fruits fell from the branches of the tree into his basket. The glowing leaves of the tree dimmed, and the fruits that were left on the tree shriveled up.
Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to come back next fortnight. Xenos thought.
Hurriedly, he made his way back home, making sure he wasn’t being followed.
“Arya, I’m home!” Xenos called, shutting the door against the frigid cold of the night. Picking up a candle lamp, he made his way up to his sister’s room.
He opened the door and saw his little sister lying belly up on her bed, unmoving—the dim ambiance unable to mask her sickly complexion. The only sign indicating that she was alive was the steady rhythmic rise and fall of her chest.
With a soft smile on his face, Xenos set the basket on the ground, stroking her face and shoving aside a rebel strand of her black hair that made its way over her eyes.
“I promise you, Arya, I will bring you back. We’ll leave this village together and find new lives for ourselves.”
Xenos sat by her bedside, performing the same ritual he had been doing for the past year and a half since she fell to the plague.
He would mash the fruits into a paste, chant the words to activate the divine properties of the blessed fruit, then smear it on her face and have some go down her throat.
Xenos held on to the belief that the only reason she stayed alive this long was because of this ritual. The plague should have won over her a long time ago, but it didn’t.
He knew she wished to live; he could feel it, her burning desire to live, and his heart would break every time he did the ritual, and her eyelids flickered as though they were about to open but never did.
Xenos broke down into tears, seeing as his ritual had failed yet again. He didn’t realize when he slept off, resting his head on the edge of her bed.
He woke up with a start to a banging noise. Groggily looking around, Xenos realized it was morning already.
The banging came again, and with an irritated sigh, he trudged downstairs, wondering who could be by his door at such early hours.
“Who is it?!” he yelled, his voice laced with irritation. Swinging open his front door, he was met with a strange sight, and he couldn’t help but raise his brows in surprise.
It was as though the whole village had come to see him as a crowd had gathered, their faces revealing a convolution of expressions. Some looking grim, others utterly furious.
“So you are the magic user!” an old man emerged from amidst the crowd, wielding a totem pole.
The chieftain!
Xenos’ felt his heart drop to his stomach.
“W-what is going on?”
“Seize him!” The old chieftain ordered, ignoring Xenos’ protest.
Two powerful hands grabbed Xenos by the arms, dragging him to the ground by the chieftain’s feet. Xenos struggled with all his might, but he was easily overpowered.
They know! Xenos realized that someone must have seen him using his Gift by the Blessed tree.
He considered using the same Gift to escape but thought better of it.
“It’s useless! This totem nullifies all magic, so don’t even think of using your magic as a means to escape!” Said the chieftain as though reading his mind.
“Seize the girl as well!” the chieftain ordered the people, and Xenos watched in horror as two hefty men stormed towards his home.
Panicking, Xenos's mind raced, thinking of what he should do—a thousand scenarios playing out in his mind.
Perhaps he could overcome them with his Gift and escape with his sister. Or maybe deny all allegations against him.
None of the scenarios ended well.
It’s over, he thought.
He could only watch in despair, thinking it was over for Arya.
Then, as the last rays of hope dimmed, an idea formed in his mind. Grabbing that last ray of hope, Xenos yelled at the top of his lungs.
“Wait!!! I-I can end the curse of the plague.”
Everything seemed to stand still, followed by a deafening hush. Then murmuring reverberated through the crowd as they pondered upon his words, growing that last ray of hope in Xenos’ heart.
“Go on,” the chieftain looked down at him dubiously.
“Well, the plague was caused by the evil witch, right? What if the witch was dead? Wouldn’t that put an end to the plague?”
Xenos could see that he had planted a seed in the hearts of the people, and it was growing as the crowd seemed to react to his logic with more murmurings.
“You are not proposing that you can kill the witch, are you?” asked the chieftain.
“Yes, I am! It takes a monster to kill a monster, right? And if I don’t make it back, it wouldn’t matter to you, right? That’ll be one magic user less in this village.”
The chieftain pondered upon his words for a while.
“Very well!” he said finally. “You have but three days. If by the end of the three days, you do not arrive, I will presume you dead and send your sister to join you in the afterlife .” He said before finally walking away with the crowd.
Xenos’ captors released him, and he rose to his feet, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. His blood boiled in rage at the threat to his sister.
At least he was able to buy some time.
After saying his goodbyes to Arya, Xenos set out on his quest to kill the evil witch in the mystery tower, taking only his staff, a water skin, and some dried meat for sustenance.
The wasteland which led up to the dark tower was truly dead. There were no plants or animals to be seen. Not a single life in sight.
The days were scorching hot, and at nightfall, it would get extremely cold. He would have to rely on only his cloak and heat created using his Gift to keep warm. His only comfort was the thought of reviving Arya and curing her of the plague.
Xenos trudged on towards the mystery tower, hoping he hadn’t made a mistake embarking on this journey.
It’s true that the people might be liberated from the curse of the plague if the witch dies, but he couldn’t care less about them. Things would only get worse for him and Arya if he stayed in the village.
He’d be dumb to think that the people would change and accept him just because he freed them from the plague.
People don’t change that easily, Xenos thought. They’re not worth saving.
But he would kill the witch regardless, just to save his sister, and they would find themselves a new home. Hopefully, killing the witch would free Arya of the plague.
Xenos reached the dark tower at noon on the second day. The tower loomed before him, dark and imposing.
Built into a mountain, it stood high and could easily be seen from miles away. Above, gloomy clouds swirled unnaturally, accompanied by sporadic flashes of lightning.
Before Xenos was a huge wooden wicket gate built into the mountain.
Holding his staff tighter, Xenos approached with caution. He didn’t have a plan, but he was reliant on the element of surprise.
Suddenly, the huge doors swung open with a huge blast of wind, his hair and cape bellowing.
Xenos tensed. He could hear the rush of blood in his head as his heart thumped loudly, but he steeled his nerve and walked into the tower.
There was barely enough light as the hall was dimly lit. But it was bright enough to see his footfalls. Before him, a wide flight of stairs stretched upwards, and at the very head of the stairs, a figure stood tall, looking down at him with a condescending gaze.
It was a woman, her hair long and dark, tied in a ponytail. Her black high-collar cape covered the beautiful white dress beneath.
The evil witch! Xenos gasped.
Swinging his staff towards the figure, Xenos prepared to unleash a fire ability.
“Don’t waste your strength, Xenos. You’ll need it for the journey ahead.” The figure spoke, her voice steady and calm.
Xenos stood there, frozen in place, surprised she knew his name.
“Come, I’ve been awaiting your visit.” She said, turning around as she disappeared into the inner recesses of the tower.
Xenos was finally able to move again, his forehead covered in sweat.
I cannot defeat her! Xenos came to a realization that his power was far too insignificant compared to hers. Her aura alone was suffocating.
Losing all his will to fight, Xenos followed her up the stairs and down a series of corridors into a large chamber. It was a circular room, its walls covered with shelves filled with scrolls. The witch sat behind a large desk, a quill in her hand, moving rapidly as she wrote elegantly on a piece of parchment paper.
“How did you know my name?” Xenos finally had the courage to ask.
She looked up for the first time and smiled. Her youth and beauty were a potent combination, impossible to ignore. With the dewy glow of adolescence still clinging to her skin and the delicate features of a porcelain doll, not the qualities of the evil witch he had imagined.
“I know a lot of things, Xenos. Including the fact that you came here to kill me.”
Xenos tensed, thinking she would attack him. But the attack never came.
“We are connected, Xenos,” she continued. “Everyone touched with the Gift of the Divine is connected; it’s a beautiful thing. But you wouldn’t know that because you were born in an era where the Gift is termed as ‘magic’ and considered a crime.”
“Then why don’t I know you?” asked Xenos.
“Because you were not taught in the art of the Gift. You are but an infant.” said the witch.
Xenos stood there, his mind a tangled mess of confusion and uncertainty. This wasn’t the situation he had prepared for.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I thought you’d never ask. My name is Azra, daughter of the one whom your people accuse of causing the plague. The so-called ‘evil witch.’”
“Well, didn’t she?”
Azra's eyes bore into him for a while. It was as though she was trying to look into the very depths of his soul.
“Come with me.” She said finally, moving away from her desk and towards the drapes on the adjacent wall.
Azra pulled it apart, revealing the balcony windows and the landscape beyond.
Xenos gasped at the sight before him.
It was a wasteland just like the one between the village and the mystery tower. But this wasteland was covered in a veil of fog so thick; he couldn’t see through. The clouds were dark and heavy, with intermittent flashes of lightning. And the land was riddled with holes through which the fog emanated.
“What is this?” Xenos breathed.
“This is the source of what your people call the plague.”
Xenos couldn’t believe it. He always thought the plague was a curse placed upon the people by the witch.
“For many centuries, my mother used her Gift to protect the people from this plague. For many years the fog couldn’t get past this tower. Then the responsibility was passed down to me before she died.
“I was inexperienced at the time. My only regret is soiling her name by letting some of the fog get past this tower to the village. I want nothing more than to fix this and clear her name.”
“But, why would you protect the villagers? They don’t deserve it. They’ve hunted and killed our kind for many years.” Xenos couldn’t understand.
“And who do you think made them that way? It was my negligence.” Azra said, a pained expression on her face.
“Perhaps this is my punishment, to protect a people that would never acknowledge me. I know that if my mother was still alive, she would protect them still.”
Xenos couldn’t phantom her logic. He looked at her with bewilderment written all over his face.
“Which is why I need you to help me put an end to the curse in the village, but it would come at a cost.” Azra continued, staring at him as though peering into his soul.
Xenos swallowed, wondering what the price would be.
“And what is this price?”
Azra sighed.
“How is your sister, Arya?”
Xenos’ heart pulsated faster in his chest at the mention of his sister’s name.
“You know my sister?”
Azra smiled, seeing his bewildered expression.
“I know a lot of things, Xenos. And I have paid close attention to you especially.”
“What has my sister got to do with this?” Xenos asked, his muscles stiffening as a shiver of dread coursed through his veins.
“You have to give one up for the other. You can’t save both the village and your sister.”
“Well, then, it’s not a difficult choice,” Xenos said, his tense muscles loosening up. He had thought the witch was going to ask him to sacrifice his sister. “I’ll save my sister without a shadow of a doubt.”
Azra stared at him with sadness in her eyes.
“At this rate, the people would be wiped out in a few years,” she said. “I wish to clear my mother’s name and see her wish come true, but the choice is yours. I do hope you make the right decision.
“My mother’s greatest desire was to protect the villagers and see them prosper. Perhaps they were her people; she never told me. I could never understand her attachment to them.”
“Even though they never accepted her? Even though they still don’t accept you?” Xenos couldn’t hide his confusion at her logic.
“Xenos, we are a special breed of people, unlike anything they have ever seen. And what people don’t understand, they tend to fear. Their reaction is only normal.
“I’m very much aware that their lives are in my hands, but I cannot let my emotions decide who gets to live or die. I believe that in time they would learn to accept our kind.”
“But, they will never change. People don’t change that easily.” Xenos protested.
“Perhaps you’re right, but you forget something. What about the next generation? Will they suffer for something they know not of?”
Azra turned to him, a passion in her gaze.
“Right at this moment, we have an opportunity to start over. Save the people and preserve a generation.
“I know it’s a tough decision for you, but in the end, I cannot stop you. I will give you the Blessed seed, but it’s left to you to decide what you choose to do with it.”
“The Blessed seed?” Xenos asked.
“It’s the seed of a Blessed fruit. It has all the properties to cure anyone of the plague, but it can also heal the dying Blessed tree in the village.
“The Blessed tree is the only thing keeping your people from falling to the plague. If the tree should die, then the village will become a wasteland like every other place the plague has touched.” Azra explained.
“But remember, whatever you choose to do, you can only use the seed once.”
With a graceful flick of her wrist, a tiny seed materialized in the air, gently settling in the palm of her hand. It was radiant, like the Blessed fruits, only smaller.
Azra gently placed it on his hand. Xenos took it, cradling it like a delicate gem, his heart at war with itself.
“But what about my sister? If I do this for the people, I’ll never see her again.” his voice cracked.
“Xenos, I can only offer you these words of comfort- except a seed falls to the ground and dies; it abides alone. Nothing will change.” Azra said.
He didn’t understand how that was supposed to be comforting, but he knew she was right about one thing. The seed would cure the Blessed tree and dispel the curse of the plague. It could also save Arya, but it couldn’t do both.
Plant the seed next to the Blessed tree. This would revive the tree. Xenos recalled Azra’s words as he trudged back to the village.
His tears flowed freely and unrestrained. He knew what he should do, but it was hard. He wasn’t going to sacrifice an entire population just to save one person, but making this decision hurt him deeply.
“Can’t I revive the tree and then use its fruits to revive Arya?” Xenos had asked.
“It would take a few years for the Blessed tree to be fully revived. I don’t think Arya would be able to fight the plague for much longer.” Azra had said, her gaze was permeated with an unmistakable sorrow.
Xenos could see the village up ahead. He was tempted to go straight to his home and save Arya. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did that.
A generation was in his hands, literally. Not saving them would make him become the same as the very people whom he hated. And if for any reason, the people could survive the plague, the cycle of hatred would never end.
Xenos sank to his knees and wailed, his tears flowing like a stream. Comforting himself, he trudged into the village.
The people saw him but only watched as he slowly walked uphill. They followed behind, not daring to come too close. It was as though they could feel the aura around him caused by the Blessed seed. But Xenos paid them no heed as they formed a long procession behind him.
With bitterness in his heart, he walked to the half-barren tree and buried the seed next to it.
No one dared to stop him as he walked home bitterly, not even the village chieftain who had threatened him.
Xenos entered his sister’s room. She was lying there as always, unmoving with a sickly complexion. He sat on her bed, placing her head on his lap. She was still breathing, but he knew it wouldn’t be for much longer.
He cried as he sang her favorite songs, the ones he would sing her to sleep when they were younger.
He contemplated life and how cruel it was to him. He was even tempted to use his Gift to end it his life and his sister's; at least they would cross the afterlife together. But he knew he shouldn’t throw his life away like that. She wouldn’t want that, and neither would his parents.
What had he done to deserve such suffering? Perhaps the laws of karma were at work here.
At that moment, the world lost all meaning, and he realized that he had never felt more alone in his entire life. The emptiness around him was suffocating, and he couldn’t help but wonder if anyone would ever understand the depth of his despair.
Xenos ended up crying himself to sleep.
Groggily opening up his eyes, Xenos realized it was morning. He recalled the events of the last few days, and his depression reestablished its presence.
Then, he looked around. Something felt wrong.
He was still in Arya’s room, but not quite. Then he realized what was missing.
Arya’s body was no longer on the bed.
As he struggled to make sense of his surroundings, a gnawing sense of dread crept up on him.
Could this be nothing more than a nightmare, he wondered until a familiar voice entered his ears.
“You’re still such a crybaby, big brother.”
Xenos whipped around and saw his sister standing by the entrance to his room, looking as healthy as ever.
Not even thinking about the possibility of the situation, Xenos charged forward, his heart pounding in his chest as he enveloped her in a fierce and passionate embrace. At that moment, all rational thought fled from his mind, consumed by the raw intensity of his relief.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” he said, then took a closer look at her. “But how?”
“How should I know?” replied Arya.
“Legends say that the Blessed seed follows the laws of cause and effect and rewards the husbandman based on their deeds and greatest wishes. But except a seed, falls to the ground and dies; it abides alone.”
Xenos recalled Azra’s words, and then a big smile played out on his face. He hadn’t thought much of it before. But now, he understood. The seed she had been referring to wasn’t the Blessed seed but himself. He needed to make the right sacrifice in order to reap the full reward.
“Nevermind,” Xenos said to his sister, embracing her again and wishing the joy in his heart would never leave.
