Cave Painting

A fist goes flying into the face of Rubis, the sheer impact sending him flying back and crashing down hard on the sandy terrain. Several taller young volkin boys surround the battered youngster and cackle at his misfortune with jabbing jeers to add insult to injury. The one that landed the punch that grounded him sneers in post victory and demands that the younger volkin stand up and face he and his crew. Daring his words, Rubis stood up on weary legs. He wipes away the blood from his lips on the back of his hand and resumes a fighting stance. With balled fists up and stark eyes squared on the bullies, Rubis readies himself.

This only prompts the bullies to unleash an onslaught of punches and kicks on the smaller volkin, pummeling the boy into the ground once more. They laugh at their helpless victim, seemingly reveling in their mob mentality. The tallest boy breaks through the crowd of bullies and pulls up the beaten boy by the scruff of his tethered shirt and asks if he had enough. Barely able to open his bruised eyes, the younger boy grins, throwing the bullies off guard momentarily before they're taken in surprise as a sudden burst of flames flares around the younger boy's fist.

The fiery fist connects into the face of the one who held him up, forcing him to let him go and reel back in pain by the sheer potency of the blow and beholds a look of shock. The bully stumbles back till he's tripping over one of the other bullies sitting on the ground whom is presumably floored by what he sees. One of the boys, in a panic, points and loudly exclaims the use of magica which prompts the others to scurry off in fright, leaving the younger boy alone to assess what had happened. He looked to his hands as if they were not of his own and held them to his chest in trembling realization. Sensing the immediate urge to flee the scene, the boy takes off.

Back at the clan's territory, Numar is briefing a scouting mission with the five eldest of his sons and daughters. It is still daytime and the weather looks to be breezy with gusting gales brisking up the sands of the Caniopia desert they call home. As the father is in depth with his speech, another villager walks into the tent, claiming that the chief as requested his presence. With a questioning furrowed brow, the father looks to his children and assures them that he will return shortly. With urgency, Numar heads to the chief's tent as summoned and assumes a salute upon entering.

Chief Fheng turns away from his table of collected documents and parchments to face the lead hunter with a grim look. He addressed Numar like the old friend that he is and cuts straight to the chase about the matter upon which he was summoned. Fheng tell him that his younger son, Rubis was involved in another fight with the local boys and that it resulted in a more violent outcome than usual. Perplexed, Numar asks the chief that he specify further. Already prepared for this, Fheng calls in one of the boys that had allegedly been assaulted. He is badly burned in the face and rightfully disheveled.

Numar looks stricken and even argues with the chief that his son could not have done such a thing. Chief Fheng explains that several of the other boys have witnessed his son using magica, something that was known to be disallowed by their kind. Unable to reason against this, Numar bows his head and states that he will talk to his son.

With a heavy tone, chief Fheng admits that a more direct action will need to be executed for the dire situation. Much to his dismay, Numar asks what could be done. The chief frankly insists that he bring his son in for his crime. Numar widens his eyes before bowing his head again, concealing his outrage in clenched fists and flexing jaws, however, he abides to the wish of the chief and deftly exits the tent to retrieve his son.

Numar storms home where he finds his beloved, Hallah and two daughters, Sinow and Sienna fixing arrow heads to sticks. Seeing the look on her lover's face, Hallah asks him what the matter is. With importance in his tone, Numar asks his mate if she has seen Rubis to which she replies with a shake of her head and looks to her two daughters and back at Numar with worry. Troubled, the father exits the hut, telling his mate to stay within the hut. Sensing her father's angst, the eldest daughter, Sinow, follows close behind him, unbeknown to the father himself.

The presumed path Rubis took takes his father outside the walls of their town and across the uncleared desert of whipping winds. He treks through the hot horizon till he reaches the site of a mountain face with a cave mouth mined into it. Numar glances around his surroundings to make sure he wasn't followed before lighting a torch and heading inside. The path inside was not straight nor narrow and the further he'd go the darker it became.

The countless trips through the maze of the cave was mentally mapped as he'd often find his son hiding away inside whenever he was in trouble, which was often. True to the belief, Numar came across the young volkin huddle beside a stream of glowing blue algea. Disheartened by the state of his son, but aware of the gravity of his crime, the father moves in to comfort him.

Rubis has his back towards his father, knees hugged at his chest, aware of his father being there but unable to face him nor tear his eyes away from the painting scrawled on the wall before him. His father is patient with his son's refusal to open up to him and instead focuses on what the boy was looking at. While gazing on the red engraved insignia, the father admits that though he's seen his son staring at the same painting within the cave before, he's never understood the fascination over it or what the painting meant to be exact.

To him it just looked like a simple V scrawled in red with intricate dots surrounding it, nothing he hasn't seen before. He asks his son what he thinks of the painting to which Rubis replies that he's been trying to figure that out himself as he spends most of his time staring at it in wonder. He then goes on to say that at often times, if he stares long enough at it, he begins to see images appear infront of him, images not of his own. It was as if he were a spectator of a happening. The father asks for more clarity to which his son just shrugs. Rubis then stands to his feet to place his hand on the cave painting, explaining that he feels it might've been some sort of history speaking to him.

Not wanting to make light of his son's imagination, Numar engages with him by taking some interest in the painting, giving it a good long look to see if he too could somehow manifest the same sort of imagery though he did not fully believe that such visions could be accurate even if he could feel a small hint of something emanating from the painting.

Before he would ponder on the strange feeling any further, Numar returns his attention on his son. There was a question that was nagging at the back of the father's mind, a question he wasn't sure he wanted the answer to. He then asks his son how he managed to get through the cave without the need of a torch. He knew that a volkin's keen sight in the dark was not that strong given the stark darkness of the cave. Rubis shifts apprehensively under the questioning eyes of his father and casts his eyes to the side.

Numar presses the answer out of the boy firmly by just saying his name and edges the suspicious feeling forward. Kneeling to eye level with the boy, Numar places both hands on the boy's shoulders and looked into his eyes. At this point the boy couldn't tell a lie, he confesses to his father that he used ashur magica to get through the dark, a flame of light to be precise. The color in the father's face looked to have been drained and his eyes stared into his son. Attempting to salvage himself from any trouble, Rubis hastily adds that he never told anyone of his ability, unaware that his father already knew what he had did to one of the village boys.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Numar pulled in his son and hugged him tightly. From the safety of his son's shoulder, the father wept. It was silent at first, so small that not even Rubis noticed then it grew louder. The enthusiasm in the boy's face quickly vanished and was replaced with worry for his father.

"Father, it's ok, right? Everything is going to be ok, right??"

The returning worry in the boy rattled his body and shook his voice. He hated to see his father cry, more so when his father cried because of him. All the boy could do was hold his dear dad in his small arms and silently console him.