JUSTIN'S POINT OF VIEW
Right now? "Yes!" I blurted out, too eager to hide it.
Only two seconds passed before they lifted their hands from my eyes. My mouth dropped open in awe. Before me stood a magnificent tree—immense, ancient, unlike any other. Its blossoms and fruit were pure white, shimmering softly against the backdrop of the forest. Every other tree paled in comparison.
It seemed as if they had teleported me here. Hmph! One day, I swore I'd learn how to teleport too.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Mother asked. I nodded quickly, too enchanted to speak. "Do you see those dark shapes clinging to the branches?"
I squinted. Yes, I could. They were scattered across the limbs like shadows.
"Those are frogs," she explained. "This tree is the only home they have in the entire forest."
"Is this... is this my gift?" I asked hopefully.
"No." Father poked my cheek. "Are you really that excited to see it? Come on, let's go."
They covered my eyes once again, and when they finally let go, my heart nearly leapt out of my chest.
A palace. A massive, breathtaking palace stretched out before me, so grand it could have been pulled straight from the pages of my books. Its walls gleamed beneath the light, its spires kissed the heavens, and its vast gardens bloomed with every kind of tree and flower imaginable.
Mother and Father each held one of my hands as we walked toward the entrance. My steps slowed as the figures waiting ahead became clear—rows of guards, and beyond them, the rah and the nhar, their robes white as snow. Unlike us in black, they glowed like beings descended from the heavens.
My grip tightened around my parents' hands. "Who are they?"
"Royalties," Father answered calmly. "They are the ones who govern our world."
"You... you work for them?"
"Yes."
"Welcome, Justin," the Queen greeted me warmly.
I bowed as my parents did and smiled as wide as I could. "Thank you, and good day!"
Father stayed behind, speaking with the King and Queen in hushed, serious tones. Mother led me through the garden and under the shade of a tall tree.
"Mother, what are we doing here?"
"Secret. You'll find out soon enough." She lowered her hood and poked my cheeks playfully.
"Then where's my gift?"
She snapped her fingers. In a flutter of wings, two black birds materialized, alighting gently upon her shoulders. I recognized them instantly—their praciens. Sometimes, they accompanied me at home, though most of the time they were away, working alongside my parents.
The birds shifted, their wings brushing against my hair, before perching on my shoulders.
"Do you like them?" Mother asked.
"But... they're your praciens. Why are you giving them to me?" Confusion filled my voice. Then I froze. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Panic rose in me and I rushed to wipe them away.
"S-sorry, Mother. That's not what I meant! I do like them, I really do. I just... I don't understand. Why give them to me?"
Her arms wrapped around me tightly, trembling. "Because we can't always be by your side. We want them to stay with you. To protect you." Her voice cracked. "I'm so sorry."
Father had drawn close without me realizing. He was crying too. He pulled me into an embrace.
"Be good, alright? Behave here," he whispered, then forced a smile as he raised his hand for a high five. "We just have something to take care of. We'll see each other again soon."
But night fell, and then dawn, and still they did not return.
It was my birthday, yet the two people I wanted most to see were gone.
The palace celebrated lavishly. Long tables overflowed with food and laughter, nobles and servants offering me greetings, blessings, and cheers. I smiled, but every smile felt heavier than the last until I couldn't force it anymore. Quietly, I slipped away.
The praciens followed close behind.
I didn't care if I got lost wandering through endless hallways. I just wanted to be anywhere else. At the end of a long, silent corridor, I spotted an open door. A faint light spilled from within, glowing like a beacon.
It was a library.
No one else was there. I closed the door, sank into a corner, and cried.
Time passed, though I had no idea how much. The only proof that it moved at all was the ache in my chest and the damp weight of my clothes.
The praciens watched me quietly, their eyes shining with sorrow as if they, too, mourned.
"How long have they been gone?" I whispered. "If they couldn't come back today, why didn't they just say so? Why couldn't they tell me the truth?"
The birds tilted their heads, but made no sound I could understand. They weren't mine by blood—only by gift.
I wiped my face, trembling, and forced myself to stand. The orb of light in the center of the room drew me closer, pulsing like a heartbeat. But the birds cried out in alarm, their bodies writhing in sudden agony before collapsing onto the floor.
A chill seized me. The thought struck like lightning. I had read once, in an old book: the life of a mnarillaza and its pracien are bound together.
"No..." My knees buckled as I reached for them. They no longer moved. Their bodies were still.
Clutching them to my chest, I screamed. "W-why? Why?!"
The room shifted. A white book floated down from above, pages blank—until images bled into them, glowing, moving, alive. Truths I had never wanted revealed themselves before me.
I didn't remember leaving, but somehow I found myself stumbling into the forest, tears still blinding my vision.
And then—I saw the tree.
So beautiful, so radiant, it almost mocked me with its perfection. I wanted to smile, but couldn't.
I dug into the earth with my bare hands. With shaking arms, I buried the praciens beneath the roots.
The ground shuddered. Darkness spread from the tree's veins, blackening bark and branch. Leaves withered, blossoms shriveled, fruits crumbled to ash before they even touched the grass below. The wind tore them away like dust.
Frogs leapt down from the branches, swarming the patch of earth where I had buried them. My body trembled violently as I watched them claw into the soil, devouring the praciens—feathers, bones, everything—until nothing remained.
Right then, I swore an oath: I would never let my pracien suffer the same fate.
I sat against the tree's trunk, chest hollow, soul heavy. But strangely, with the vow burning inside me, I felt a sliver of peace.
When the tree died, the frogs left. They never came back.