Burden of the Blessed

by R Joseph LeBlanc

  “Okay,” I sighed, but the look in her eyes was still intense.

  “Do you promise me, Vigil? You’ll keep hold of my hand, no matter what?” she asked again.

  “Yes, I promise!” I said loudly so she knew I was serious about keeping my word.

  “There’s my good boy.” She smiled and kissed my cheek. “We’re ready,” she called out to my father who was standing by the door, tapping his toe and checking his watch.

  “It’s about time!” Linna piped in. She wore a bright pink coat and rocked back impatiently on her heels.

  “All right, then, let’s get going before we miss the show!” my father said eagerly as he hurried us into the cool evening air.

  We walked along the streets filled with the joyful citizens of Telshakra who were also heading to the viewing fields. Children laughed and giggled, and parents smiled and reflected on their own memories of past festivals. There were the same familiar sights, sounds, and smells that I’d come to love with each passing year, and the closer we got, the more my senses came alive.

  “Momma!” Linna squealed with delight. “They have sweetdough this year! Can we get some?”

  “What’s sweetdough?” I asked my sister.

  “It’s amazing, Vigil! They take a piece of dough and fry it up in honey oil and then cover it with crushed candy dust! Oh, wait till you try it!”

  “Linna!” my mother snapped. “You know I don’t want your brother eating those kinds of things.”

  Truth be told, my parents were not ones to spoil my sister and me with pastries and sugar. They weren’t overly strict about it—at least my father wasn’t—but my parents preferred our family to eat from the garden in our backyard. Fruits and vegetables were the main staples in our diet, and my mother worked meticulously in the kitchen each day, transforming ordinary ingredients into delicious masterpieces.

  “Irenea,” my father grumbled. “You have to stop trying to protect him from every little thing.”

  My mother stared angrily into my father’s eyes. “You don’t understand, Vim.” Her eyes welled up with tears.

  “I’m sorry, dear.” My father’s tone instinctively changed, trying to keep my mother from having one of her episodes. “Look, all I’m saying is that it’s the Festival of Ein, and having one little treat won’t do him any harm.”

  My mother looked down, noticing the fear in my eyes from being caught in the middle of their argument, and immediately forced a smile to keep me from crying. “It’s okay, sweetie. If you really want to try a piece of sweetdough, you can. How about…you and I share a piece? Won’t that be nice?”

  I nodded, letting a huge smile spread across my face. I was excited. My first taste of sweetdough that night kindled a lifelong love of the dessert.

  “Yay!” Linna cheered.

  “Thank you,” my father offered lovingly, but my mother kept her focus on me, acting as if the previous altercation had never even happened.

  ~5~

  After we’d finished our snacks, we slowly made our way through the Ceremonial Gate of Telshakra and arrived at the viewing fields. All I could see before me were the legs and backsides of several thousand Telshakran men and women who had come to attend the fireworks display, too. I made sure to hold my mother’s hand tightly. She patted the backs of my fingers with her thumb, and I could sense her relief that I kept my promise.

  “Up we go!” my father said to Linna.

  She shrieked in protest at being hoisted onto her father’s shoulders like a baby, but when she had a clear view of the evening sky, my sister smiled with the same childlike happiness and wonderment as she had during all her previous festivals.

  The sky was a deep blue that faded into purple and black like a watercolor painting. Hundreds upon hundreds of twinkling little stars blanketed the night sky. It was then I realized why my sister often found such joy in looking up toward the heavens.

  “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” My mother smiled when she noticed me staring upward with my mouth hanging wide open. She picked me up and braced me on her hip so we were almost eye to eye, sharing a moment I would remember forever. “Oh, Vigil, I used to spend hours gazing up at those stars,” she reminisced, letting out a soft sigh.

  “It’s true, you know…she did,” said a familiar voice. The old man was dressed in pristine coal colored robes trimmed with strange little symbols stitched in silvery thread. He had a narrow, wrinkled face; white gray stubble on his cheeks and chin; and was completely bald.

  My mother jumped as the unexpected greeting startled her. “Shepherd Machoji! It’s good to see you on such a wonderful night, Ein be praised.”

  “Ein be praised! Hello, everyone,” he said, giving a friendly wave and bowing toward my family.

  My father’s face fell at the sight of the shepherd. “Irenea, I’m going to take Linna and get some more sweetdough,” he said in a slightly belligerent tone as he gave Shepherd Machoji an unpleasant and awkward glare. “Shepherd, please excuse us,” he said, and kissed my mother on the cheek before walking away.

  “Daddy, can I come, too?” I called out, but my father was out of my sight.

  It was no secret that my father didn’t care much for the old man. He partially blamed my mother’s distress and mental struggles on him. Shepherd Machoji had visited our home on a regular basis since I was born, acting as a counselor to my mother. He was my mother’s most trusted support through all her mental anguish. I think that in some way, my father was jealous of Shepherd Machoji because he brought my mother peace of mind and could provide for her spiritually where my father could not.

  “I-I’m sorry, Shepherd, he doesn’t mean to be so rude,” my mother muttered through a smile, trying to recover quickly by redirecting the attention onto me. “Say hello, Vigil.”

  “Hi,” I said as I withdrew into my mother’s neck.

  “Hello there, Vigil. Happy birthday, my boy!” he shouted and leaned in to tickle my side.

  My face instantly perked up at the thought that someone knew it was also my birthday and not just the Festival of Ein. I often felt like I was missing out on that extra special kind of attention, given that my birthday was the same day as the Festival of Ein celebrations. It never really felt like my own special day when all the other kids were being treated the same way.

  “You know it’s my birthday?” I asked in amazement.

  “Yes, of course! I was there when you were born.” Shepherd Machoji chuckled. “And besides, there’s no chance I could forget, because it’s my birthday, too!”

  “It is?” my mother asked. “I’m sorry, Shepherd, I had no idea today was your birthday.”

  “Not to worry, my dear,” he said happily.

  “Well, happy birthday to you, too, then, Shepherd,” she said. “Looks like you and Vigil have something in common.”

  “More than you know, Irenea,” he said in a manner of friendly elusiveness, like somebody keeping a secret they just couldn’t wait to share.

  “What do you mean?” My mother willingly took the bait and eagerly awaited the revelation.

  Machoji turned to me slowly and peered deep into my eyes to make sure I was truly paying attention. I could see my reflection in his unusual black irises. “I was born on the night of an actual Chiliad Alignment, just like you…three alignments before yours, to be exact. I’m now 1,496 years old.”

  I slowly turned to my mother, who was trying to hold back her laughter at the sight of my bewilderment. “Momma? Will I get to live that long?”

  My mother smiled and replied, “No, sweetie. Only shepherds get to live that long.”

  “What’s a shepherd?” I asked.

  She took a deep breath and looked up at the stars. “Shepherds are very special people who have been chosen by Ein to help His children watch over the entire universe. They travel through the stars, spreading the word of Ein, protecting those who are faithful to Him and punishing those who aren’t.”

  I briefly lo
oked at Shepherd Machoji in awe before looking back toward the sky. “You’ve been up there?” I asked, pointing up at the stars in amazement.

  “Yes, Vigil, I’ve been up there,” Shepherd Machoji replied playfully, pointing up to the heavens just like I was.

  “How did you get up there?”

  “Magic,” he whispered loudly in a mysterious manner as his eyes widened, knowing that any child of my age would be quickly taken in by the thought of such an amazing tale. My sister had her prince and princess fairytales, and now I had this—stories of magic and the stars.

  “Could I become a shepherd someday, Momma?” I bounced in her arms excitedly.

  “Well, sweetie, Ein only gives His special magic to those chosen by the gods. Only a very few out of a thousand children will grow up to become one,” my mother said sympathetically, knowing she’d just shattered this new excitement for me as she watched my smile melt away and my gaze turn toward the ground.

  “You never know, Vigil. You might be one of the lucky ones!” Machoji exclaimed, jumping to my mother’s rescue.

  “Let’s hope not!” my father said abruptly, eyeing Machoji as sternly as he could. This was yet another reason that my father didn’t approve of this seemingly kind old man. My father’s older brother, Vantaru, had been taken from the family at the age of six and sent to the Shepherd Academy. Once a child displays the signs of being chosen by the gods, they’re taken from their family and never heard from again. My father had already lost family to the Church, and he didn’t want to think about losing his only son.

  “Yes, I’m sorry, Vim. I was only trying to help,” Shepherd Machoji apologized sincerely when he saw the anger in my father’s face. I’d seen that look many times before when I was about to be punished.

  “Vim, please!” implored my mother, trying to take control and defuse the situation. She knew my father’s rage and quick temper would make him forget they were dealing with an esteemed member of the Church, and an outburst like that could put our whole family in jeopardy. Her hands trembled as she held me, and I could see her lips shake as tears welled up in her eyes again. “Where are your manners?” she pleaded through her anxiety.

  My father’s face was stiff; his jaw was clenched, and a little vein in his neck was pulsing. He breathed more heavily than normal, but when he heard my mother’s sad voice, my father took a long, deep breath to push back the building rage. His expression returned to normal as he looked apologetically toward her.

  “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry, dear,” my father said tenderly before turning toward Shepherd Machoji and forced a smile. “Forgive me, sir.”

  “Not to worry. I understand it’s been hard on you. May Ein watch over you always.” Machoji’s tone was compassionate, but he knew he’d overstayed his welcome and didn’t want to cause my mother any more unnecessary pain or worry.

  “Thank you, Shepherd Machoji. Ein be praised for your patience,” my mother offered, grateful for his blessing.

  “Oh! I almost forgot. It’s someone’s birthday!” Machoji blurted out as he turned back toward me. He reached behind his head and unclasped the long silver chain that was hiding just beneath the collar of his robes. As he presented it to me, I could see the pendant in his hand was a very unusual piece of blackbrass jewelry. The long pyramid was inlaid with different colored stones. Another piece of shinier blackbrass that looked like a snake strangling some kind of prey was wrapped around it. There were unfamiliar scrolls and symbols etched into the sides. “This was given to me when I was your age by a wise old man who had the same birthday as me, too. Why not pass on the tradition, eh?” He laughed.

  “Shepherd, we really can’t accept something like this,” my mother said humbly.

  My father quickly put his hand up and tried to reject the offering as respectfully as possible, but Shepherd Machoji placed the necklace over my head with pride. My father tried a different approach. “This should stay with the Church, where it belongs. You know common people like us aren’t allowed to possess relics like this. Vigil, give it back,” my father instructed.

  I started to take it off, but Shepherd Machoji crossed his arms and refused it with a clever laugh. “Not to worry. I’ve had it for so long…they won’t miss it at all. And no harm will come to you or your family for owning it. I’ll make sure of that.” He smiled. “Happy birthday, Vigil!”

  “Vigil, say thank you.” My mother gave me a quick shake to remind me of my manners.

  “Thank you, Shepherd Machoji,” I replied automatically, still staring down at my gift.

  “Well, this is a night of celebration, and I’ll leave you to enjoy it. Until Ein joins us again.” He bowed graciously and turned to be on his way.

  My mother watched the shepherd until he vanished into the crowd, trying to avoid my father’s glare. Knowing that an argument was about to begin, she stalled for as long as she could by lowering me to the ground, taking a small piece of sweetdough from Linna, and then handing it to me.

  “You know we can’t keep that, right?” my father whispered furiously. “If anyone sees that we have that—” He was interrupted by the trumpet fanfare as the Anthem of Telshakra began.

  “Yes, I know, Vim. Why don’t we deal with this at home?” she said nervously, looking around, hoping not to draw any attention to their argument as the anthem finished and the fireworks started to flash and thunder up above.

  ~6~

  “Look, Daddy! It’s starting!” my sister shouted.

  The sparkling rockets blocked out the brilliance of the stars as I looked up at streaks and streams of reddish-orange fireworks, which I could still see behind my eyelids when I blinked. A gold one streaked high up and burst into beautiful showers of twinkling yellow fire that I thought looked at home in blackened sky, as if it were another galaxy unto itself. A larger red one collided extravagantly with a smaller amber one in midair, exploding into an incredible shower of sparks and light that rained in the sky above our heads. Then a gray one fizzed like a dull fog in the air.

  “I guess that one was a dud!” my father said, trying to crack a joke to get everyone back in the spirit of the evening.

  “Looks like it!” Linna laughed, but the gray fog hung in the air like a thick, smoky cloud. It reminded me of a rain cloud right before a downpour—bloated, heavy, and hovering patiently in the sky. A dazzling blue firework with a golden sparkling tail streaked upward and ignited with a gold and blue explosion that wowed the crowd, but the ominous gray smoke still lingered.

  “That’s so strange,” a man beside my mother said as another reddish-gray firework ignited in the sky, spreading more of the dull, smoky fog.

  “What’s going on, Vim?” my mother asked.

  “I don’t know,” my father replied, puzzled and concerned. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the fog, even though the fireworks display continued. Suddenly, several people in the crowd around us screamed and pointed toward the sky at what appeared to be a flaming metal canister spinning, smoking, and streaking through the gray fog as it headed toward the viewing fields.

  “Look out!” someone shouted as the canister crashed to the ground. It struck with such a massive force that I could feel the rumble of the earth beneath my feet shaking its way up through my bones and into my body. There were more screams of fear and panic as the fireworks immediately stopped. I couldn’t see anything from where I stood, but thousands of people, including my parents, jumped and craned their necks to get a look at what was happening. Some began to run, but most people moved closer to the object, curious about what it might be.

  “Vim, I think we need to leave,” my mother said urgently as a family of three ran past us.

  I looked up again, still holding my mother’s hand tightly, and saw that the gray cloud was no longer hovering. It was expanding and spreading at an alarming rate, rapidly sinking lower to the ground.

  “We’ll leave in a second. Just hang on. I want to go see if everyone is all right over there. Here,�
�� he said as he pulled my sister over next to my mother and me. “Take Linna, and all of you stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  “Vim! Don’t go over there!” my mother shouted at the top of her lungs, panicked and almost in tears. My sister and I were startled because my mother hardly ever raised her voice like that, but my father was absolutely stunned.

  “Why are you yelling at me?” He was confused at first, but then quickly realized that leaving her there, amidst all this panic and confusion might not be the best idea. “Okay, all right…let’s go. Linna, hold my hand,” he commanded.

  My mother picked me up again, holding me close to her chest. There was no way she’d let my little legs attempt to keep up in this manic crowd. I dropped the remainder of my sweetdough and wrapped my arms around her neck, interlacing my fingers to make sure I held on as tightly as I could.

  As we started to leave, there came one of the most horrifying sounds I’d ever heard. A flaming canister burst through the advancing gray cloud with a high-pitched shriek and crashed into the crowd behind us. A deafening metallic explosion that smelled like fire and dirt mixed with the screams of hundreds of Telshakrans who were quickly incinerated by the blast, and hundreds more who were flung from the ground where it landed.

  “Ein have mercy!” my mother shrieked. She and my father turned to see a huge flaming crater in the center of the viewing fields that quickly filled with billowing gray smoke. The terrible wave of dusty gas pushed its way from the center of the blast and spread across the field until everyone in the crowd was coughing from the layer of soot coating their mouths.

  It was chaos as people ran in all directions. My father picked up my sister and grabbed my mother’s free hand, and they ran as quickly as the massive flow of people allowed. All around me, the eyes of other children met mine. We coughed, trying to clear our lungs of the horrible gas and soot. I felt like my chest was on fire.