Keeper Of Two Worlds

Another Oddity Occurs

"We're out of gas." Sarmila turned the gas stove knob over and over. "I'll go buy some gas."

Arven walked over to the stove and placed his index finger on the burner. Instantly, a blue flame ignited.

Sarmila nearly stumbled backward, but she quickly pulled Arven’s arm away from the stove. 

Arven stared at the stove with sparkling eyes. “Mom, look! I can light the stove without any gas!” Arven exclaimed happily.

Sarmila didn’t answer. Her hand was still gripping Arven’s wrist tightly, so tightly that it made the boy groan.

“Ouch, Mom, that hurts.”

Sarmila immediately let go, but her gaze remained unsettled. She saw that the blue flame was still burning perfectly above the burner, even though her hand hadn’t touched the stove for even a second.

“Arven, you must never do that again, okay!”

“Why? It’s so easy, Mom. You won’t have to buy gas.”

“Arven!”

The shout slipped out before Sarmila realized it. Arven flinched. His lips puckered, and his eyes welled up with tears.

Sarmila took a deep breath. She pressed both palms against her face, trying to calm herself. When she lowered her hands, she forced a smile even though her lips were still trembling.

“I’m sorry, Arven. I was startled.” Sarmila stroked Arven’s hair. “But please, don’t do that again. I’ll be worried the stove might explode.”

“It didn’t explode just now, Mom,” Arven said innocently. “The flame was small.”

“That’s because you’re just learning. What if the flame gets bigger later on?”

Arven fell silent. Something in his chest felt tight, but he didn’t know what it was. He just lowered his head and gave a small nod.

“Okay, Mom.”

Sarmila hugged Arven tightly. Behind that embrace, she whispered, almost like a prayer.

“God, protect my child, please!"

The following days were spent with great caution.

Sarmila began watching Arven like a hawk. Every time the boy got angry, cried, or even laughed too loudly, she immediately approached him and diverted his attention. Ajiman was also on guard, though he was more often silent, simply observing from a distance.

Arven himself began to realize that something was different. Not only because of his sudden ability to start a fire, but also because of his dreams.

Every night, Arven had a dream.

It wasn’t an ordinary dream about school or playing. He dreamed of a dark place. It was very dark, but strangely, it wasn’t scary. There was a starless sky, ground that felt cold beneath his feet, and a wind that whispered with unfamiliar sounds.

In that dream, Arven felt as if he were in his own home. He had once told his mother about it.

“Mom, I dreamed of a dark place. But I wasn’t scared.”

Sarmila gave a faint smile. “Maybe you’re just tired, son.”

“But it felt like I had a home there.”

Sarmila smiled, but her hand holding the vegetable spoon paused for a few seconds.

*

Arven woke up from his nap. His stomach was growling. He squinted toward the kitchen, the old gas stove was still silent, with no gas cylinder attached. His mother hadn’t come home from the market yet.

He opened the fridge. Just a bowl of leftover chicken soup from last night. It was cold, and the broth had thickened like jelly. Arven picked up the bowl, then paused.

“Turn on the stove?” Arven muttered.

Suddenly, an image of his mother flashed through his mind.

“Don’t do that again!”

Arven sighed. He obeyed his mother’s warning. He set the bowl down on the wooden table. Then he stared at his own palm.

“What should I do to warm up the soup?” Arven wondered.

Slowly, Arven spread his fingers, cupping the air above the bowl as if trying to catch something. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He was just following his instincts.

Then, from between his fingers, warm air began to flow out.

Not fire. Not light. Just a thin mist that drifted down, enveloping the surface of the soup. The frozen broth slowly began to thaw. The yellow oil on the surface started to move. The aroma of chicken and spices wafted into the air.

Arven stared in amazement. He slowly withdrew his hand. The soup was steaming hot, ready to be eaten. He picked up a spoon, scooped up some broth, and blew on it briefly. It was perfectly warm.

Arven smiled slightly, then ate quietly. No one was watching. No one knew.

*

The scorching heat beat down on the earth. The sun’s rays burned the scalps, causing vendors and shoppers to fan themselves. Sarmila wiped the sweat from her temples repeatedly. Her shirt was damp on her back.

Arven walked beside his mother. He held Sarmila’s hand. Yet he didn’t feel the heat. The air around him felt cool, as if an invisible blanket were shielding him from the sun’s rays.

He looked at his mother, who kept wiping away her sweat. Sarmila’s face was flushed. She was breathing in short, shallow gasps.

“Mom, are you hot?” Arven asked.

“A little, son. But the market is close by. We have to hurry. Come on!” Sarmila replied with a smile, sweat still streaming down her face.

Arven gazed up at the sky. The sun was beating down mercilessly. His heart fluttered. He didn’t like seeing his mother like that.

Without a second thought, Arven pointed his index finger toward the sky.

“Arven?” Sarmila turned to look at him in surprise. “What are you doing?”

Before Sarmila could ask another question, raindrops began to fall.

It was raining. But strangely, the rain fell only in the exact spot where Sarmila was standing. It covered a one-meter radius around her. Outside that circle, where Arven was standing, not a single raindrop fell.

Sarmila looked up. Her face was pale. Her eyes widened when she saw Arven’s small hand still raised toward the sky, his index finger pointing upward.

“Arven! Stop it!” Sarmila was in a complete panic.

Arven lowered his hand. The rain stopped instantly. Just like a faucet being turned off.

Sarmila grabbed Arven and hugged him tightly. Her body was trembling.

“Mom?” Arven was confused. “I just wanted to cool you off. Why?”

Sarmila didn’t answer. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly. Her arms, wrapped around Arven, were trembling.

This time it wasn’t fire. It was water. Water falling from the sky just for him.

Sarmila closed her eyes, trying to stop herself from shaking. One thing she was certain of, her son was no ordinary child. And with each passing day, his strangeness became more and more unstoppable.

*

That night, after Arven had fallen asleep, Sarmila told Ajiman what had happened.

“Water? Rain?” Ajiman furrowed his brow.

"Yes, and it only fell around me, Ajiman. Arven is our son, isn't he? A normal human child? But why is this happening? He can summon fire and water. I’m scared."

Ajiman was silent for a long time, still processing his wife’s words. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the wooden table, a sound that signaled his mind was racing.

“Are you sure it was Arven who did that, Mila?” Ajiman finally asked.

Sarmila nodded. “Arven’s hand was raised toward the sky, Ajiman. As soon as his hand came down, the rain stopped. There was no one else around. Just him.”

Ajiman roughly rubbed his face. “First fire, now water.”

“Yes. And earlier at the market, Arven wasn’t hot at all. Even though it was extremely hot out. But Arven was fresh, not even sweating.”

Ajiman looked at his wife. “Elder Sastro said Arven has something inside him that’s very old and powerful.”

Sarmila bit her lip. “But Arven is our child, Ajiman. I gave birth to him. We raised him. Why is he so strange?”

Ajiman couldn’t answer.

“Should we go to another shaman?” Sarmila asked.

Ajiman shook his head. “Even Elder Sastro doesn’t know. How could anyone else?”

“Then should we just do nothing?”

“We’ll take care of him. We’ll keep an eye on him. As long as Arven isn’t a danger to himself or others, we’ll let it be for now.” Ajiman took a deep breath. “But we mustn’t tell anyone. Not even Arven himself. He’s still a child. It’s not time for him to know yet.”

Sarmila lowered her head. Tears streamed down her face.

“Yess, we’ll look after him."

In the bedroom, Arven was fast asleep. The red cloth that Elder Sastro had given him was still tightly wrapped around his wrist. Gradually, the cloth crumbled into fine dust and vanished into the night.