The Middle Realm
Roar... Splatter! Splatter!
The river roared as it overflowed, while rain lashed the ground in torrents. Trees and bushes bent under the raging wind, as if about to be ripped from their roots at any moment.
Wahh wahh…
A newborn child, wrapped in thick silk-like cloth, lay alone beside the riverbank.
Wahh wah…
The baby's cries began to fade.
Tap tap tap.
Footsteps approached, barely audible amidst the roaring rainfall. A tall, broad-shouldered man, covered in a rough black robe for warmth, trudged towards the river.
"Ugh, what is wrong with the weather today? I don't even remember the last time it rained like this. Man… look at the river, if I try filling water from it… Ugh, never mind, a bath it is."
He knelt to fill his bucket, and as it dipped into the river, water splattered onto his face. "Tch, I knew it… now I'm all wet."
Once the bucket was full, he stood and began to walk home. But suddenly—
Wahh wahh wahh.
The sharp wail of a baby pierced the storm's roar. He froze.
"What… What was that? A baby… here? In this weather? Who in their right mind would bring a baby out in this weather?"
He hurried towards the cries. As he parted the thick bushes near the bank, his eyes widened in shock. There, lying helplessly in the mud and soaked in freezing rain, was a newborn baby.
Without thinking, he scooped the child into his arms and dashed home. The baby was barely conscious, its eyes half-closed and breaths shallow. By the time he reached his house, the baby's eyes had shut completely. Only the faint shivers running through its tiny body showed it was still alive.
Knock! Knock!
He banged on the door. A moment later, a woman swung it open, her eyes widening at the sight of the bundle in his arms.
"What happened?! Who is this baby?" she exclaimed, her voice tense with worry.
"No time to explain, honey! Get me a towel and a clean cloth, quickly!"
The woman rushed inside, returning seconds later with what he asked for.
He placed the baby on the dining table and unwrapped the soaked silk cloth. A golden ring fell out from within the folds. He pushed it aside for now, focused on drying the child. As he turned the baby to wipe its back, both he and the woman froze in shock.
"Dear… This can't be real, right…?" the woman whispered, her voice trembling. "Someone's… Someone's pulling a prank on us… right? Who would endanger a newborn child like this… just for a silly prank!?" Her shock turned to anger.
He snapped back to focus. "We don't have time for this. He's unconscious now. If we don't act, he won't make it."
He quickly dried the baby and wrapped him in the clean cloth. "Take him to the fireplace. Keep him warm."
The woman nodded and hurried to the hearth, cradling the baby in her lap as she sat before the flickering flames.
The man stood by the table, staring at the golden ring he had set aside. Slowly, he reached for it and picked it up. His eyes narrowed as he examined it closely.
"Dear! Come here, quick! He's moving!"
He set the ring down and hurried to her side. Relief washed over him when he saw the baby's eyelids flutter. A few moments later, the child began to cry softly.
Wahh wahh wahh.
"Hush now, little one, you're safe," the woman murmured, smiling gently.
The baby stopped crying and stared into her eyes for a long moment before smiling faintly. That small smile lit up both their faces with warmth.
Then the man remembered the ring. "Honey… come here for a moment."
She looked at him with confusion but stood up, still holding the baby.
"I need you to see this… and stay calm, alright?"
"What is it…?"
He showed her the ring. "This was with the baby. Look at it… anyone can see it isn't an ordinary ring. And this metal… I've never seen it before. I might be wrong, but… I have a strong feeling this metal, or rather this ring, does not belong in this realm."
The woman stared at him, unable to find words.
"Are you saying…" she whispered, "this boy… isn't from the Middle Realm…?"
The man sighed heavily. "That's what I believe. And you saw it too… the symbol on his back… That's no prank. This child… from what I can tell, he's from the Heavenly Realm. And not just that… if that symbol is real, he is from the Heavenly Solar Clan or atleast he has some sort if connection with them."
For a long moment, silence filled the room, broken only by the crackling fire and the baby's quiet breathing.
Wahh wahh wahh.
The baby started crying again. The woman hugged him tighter.
"What's wrong, little one?"
"He's hungry," the man said softly. "We need to feed him."
The woman looked at the baby, then back at her husband. "But… how? The only thing a newborn could have is…" Her voice trailed off, and she looked down at her chest hesitantly.
The man placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "He'll die if we don't do anything. Please…"
She took a deep breath and nodded. "I… I understand."
She loosened her robe and brought the baby close. At first, the baby didn't respond, but moments later, he latched on and began to feed. As the woman looked down at the small child drinking from her, her heart warmed with a feeling she couldn't describe. A bond—fragile yet real—began to form within her.
The man watched silently. Seeing his wife cradling the baby with such gentle care stirred a deep resolve in him. They remained quiet, only the crackling of the fire and the pounding rain outside echoing in their small home.
After a while, the baby drifted to sleep in her arms, his breathing calm and peaceful.
"We should… get some sleep too," she whispered.
He nodded. "We'll figure out what to do tomorrow."
She stood and carried the sleeping baby into their small bedroom. Laying down, she flipped the baby gently to his side. Her eyes fell upon his back, and she froze. There it was, engraved faintly on his skin:
The mark of a radiant golden sun, surrounded by nine faint stars, each shimmering with a subtle hue under the dim lantern light.
She reached out her trembling fingers and softly traced the symbol, a sigh escaping her lips. "What life have you come from, little one…?"
She finally lay down, pulling the blanket over them both. Soon, the room fell into quiet, peaceful breathing.
Tap tap tap.
The man's footsteps echoed in the silent living room. He sat down at the table and picked up the golden ring, staring at it under the flickering lantern.
With a deep breath, he pulled out an old wooden box from beneath the cabinet, dust puffing out as he opened it. Inside were stacks of worn books, scrolls, and old realm maps. He began rummaging through them, flipping pages, searching for anything—anything that mentioned the Nine Heavens, the Solar Clan, or the strange metal of the ring.
Hours passed. The rain outside never stopped, and neither did he. His eyes scanned line after line, book after book. Slowly, his brows furrowed, his eyes widened, and sweat began to form on his forehead.
Finally, as the first faint rays of dawn slipped through the window cracks, he closed the last book with trembling hands. The room was silent except for the pounding of his heart.
A single bead of sweat slipped down from his temple. He gulped, his hands clutching the ring tightly as he stared blankly at the floor.
"…This can't be real…"