Keeper Of Two Worlds

Arven, The Healer

Several weeks had passed since his encounter with the little girl on the side of the road, Arven had almost forgotten about it. Until one afternoon, as he sat alone on the porch, someone appeared at the gate.

Kiana stood at the gate. 

“Hi,” Kiana greeted him with a shy smile. “I brought this for you.”

Kiana held out a small plastic bag containing banana cake. It was still warm. Arven looked at Kiana, puzzled.

“Why?”

“To say thank you. You helped me and took me home that day.” Kiana held out the plastic bag through the gap in the gate.

Arven smiled slightly. He opened the gate and invited Kiana in. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

“It wasn’t a bother. "My mom made the cake. I just brought it over." Kiana sat down next to Arven on the porch. “Are you here all by yourself? Don’t you play with your friends?”

Arven shook his head. “I don’t have any friends.”

Kiana blinked. “Why?”

Arven looked down. “They don’t like playing with me. They say I always break their toys whenever I borrow them."

“Is it wrong to borrow toys?”

Arven shrugged. 

Kiana was silent for a moment. She dangled her feet, which didn’t quite reach the ground. “Well then, I’ll just be your friend.”

Arven turned to look at her. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. You helped me, after all. Good people should have friend.” Kiana smiled widely. “I’ll come over to play again tomorrow, okay?”

Arven nodded. He was happy that Kiana wanted to be his friend, Arven smiled widely, his smile felt sincere.

From that day on, Kiana came over often. Sometimes she’d just sit on the porch, sometimes she’d play hide-and-seek in the backyard, and sometimes she’d help Arven water his mother’s plants. Arven was always cheerful and excited, waiting for Kiana to come and invite him to play.

One afternoon, Kiana asked while drawing on the ground with a twig. “Have you ever been to the city?”

Arven shook his head. “No. Just to the market with Mom.”

"Me neither. But Dad says that when we grow up, we’ll be able to go anywhere." Kiana gazed up at the sky. "I want to see the ocean."

"The ocean?"

"Yeah. Dad says the ocean is blue and vast, so vast you can’t even see where it ends." Kiana closed her eyes. "I want to know if seawater really tastes salty."

Arven smiled at Kiana's words. “When we grow up, we’ll go to the ocean together.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

They linked their pinkies. Two little kids on a wooden porch, beneath an afternoon sky turning yellow. No one knew what the future held. No one could have guessed that the promise made under that twilight sky would feel so heavy later on.

A few days later, Kiana didn’t show up. She didn’t come the next day either. Arven began to worry. He asked his mother.

“Mom, I want to go to Kiana’s house. I want to play there.”

“All right. But you have to come home before it gets dark.”

Arven walked along the path he used to take when he walked Kiana home. The simple house with the wooden fence finally came into view. He approached and knocked on the door.

A woman opened the door. Her face looked tired, her eyes puffy.

“What is it, son?” The woman’s voice was hoarse.

“Is Kiana here? I’m Arven, Kiana’s friend.”

“I know. You’re Mrs. Sarmila and Mr. Ajiman’s son. Kiana is sick. She has a high fever. She hasn’t gotten out of bed for three days,” replied Miria, Kiana’s mother.

Arven held his breath. “I want to see Kiana.”

Kiana’s mother smiled. “Come on in!”

Kiana was lying on a thin mattress in the corner of the room. Her face was flushed, and sweat drenched her hair. Her eyes were closed, and she moaned softly from time to time. Arven sat down beside the bed, staring at his friend.

“Kiana,” Arven called.

Kiana opened her eyes for a moment. “Arven.” Kiana’s voice was hoarse.

“Have you taken your medicine yet?”

“I have, but my fever just won’t go away.”

Arven touched Kiana’s hot hand. His chest felt tight. He felt sorry for Kiana as she lay sick.

Kiana’s mother approached, placing her palm on her daughter’s forehead. “She’s still hot. If it doesn’t go down by tonight, we’ll go to the village health post. I’ll get you a cold compress first.” Miria left the room.

Arven took a deep breath. He remembered his mother’s words,  Never let anyone else know. But on the other hand, right before his eyes, his only friend was suffering.

Arven lowered his head, staring at his own palm. Then slowly, silently, Arven moved his fingers. A cool breeze flowed from his fingertips. It was invisible and imperceptible to everyone except Arven.

Arven held out his palm, cupping the air above Kiana’s forehead.

A cool sensation crept over her, drawing the heat out of Kiana’s body.

Kiana closed her eyes and shivered briefly, then her body began to calm down. Her flushed face slowly returned to normal. Her sweating stopped. Her breathing became steady.

Kiana’s mother reappeared carrying a handkerchief and a basin of water, noticing nothing. To Miria, Arven was simply sitting quietly beside her daughter.

Kiana opened her eyes. Her breath, which had been labored moments ago, now felt easy. She looked at Arven, confused.

“What are you doing, Arven?”

“Nothing,” Arven replied quickly. “I was just watching you.”

But just a moment ago, Kiana had caught a glimpse of something. Between Arven’s fingers, a thin wisp of steam was rising. It was very faint, like breath in the early morning. She didn’t say anything. She just smiled. 

“Thanks for coming,” said Kiana.

“I’ll come again tomorrow. Get well soon, okay?”

Arven stood up, said goodbye to Kiana’s mother, and walked home. The sky was turning orange. The evening breeze greeted him.

All the way home, Arven stared at his own hands. “Can I cure a fever?” he muttered. “And Kiana’s fine. She’s really recovered.”

Arven smiled to himself. Maybe that power wasn’t always a bad thing. Maybe he could use that power to help others.

But as soon as he got home, the image of his mother’s face immediately came to mind.

“Never let anyone else know.”

Arven shoved both hands into his pockets, lowered his head, and stepped inside. He didn’t tell his mother a thing.

But that night, Arven didn’t dream of a dark place. He dreamed of the ocean. Blue, vast, and calm. And on the shore, Kiana was laughing joyfully.

Arven smiled in his sleep.

The next morning, Arven woke up early. He ate breakfast and then immediately said goodbye to head over to Kiana’s house.

His mother called out to him from the kitchen. “Arven, where are you going? It’s still early.”

“To Kiana’s house, Mom. Today is Sunday, after all. School’s out. I want to check on Kiana. She’s sick.”

Sarmila was silent for a moment. “Bring her some fruit, Arven.” Sarmila packed some mangoes she’d gotten from a neighbor’s orchard in the next village. “Come home before lunch, okay!"

Arven nodded, then ran outside.

When he arrived, Kiana was already sitting on her porch. Her face was still pale, but her eyes looked bright. As soon as she saw Arven, she smiled widely.

“Arven! I’m all better! It’s weird, isn’t it? Ever since you came to see me yesterday, I haven’t had a fever anymore.”

Arven smiled but didn’t answer.

“Let’s play!” Kiana said, eagerly stepping down from the porch after putting away the mango Arven had given her.

The two of them ran to the small field at the end of the alley. No one else was there. Just two little kids playing under the morning sun, unsuspecting, fearless.

That afternoon, Arven came home later than usual. Sarmila, who was waiting on the porch, immediately stood up.

“Arven, Dad came home earlier. He brought ... Arven? What’s wrong?”

Arven stood in front of the fence. His clothes were dirty, with dust caked on his elbows and knees. But what made Sarmila stop in her tracks was the smile on her son’s face, a smile she hadn’t seen in a long time when he was playing with his friends.

“It’s okay, Mom. I was playing with Kiana at the field. I like Kiana. She tried to share her toy with me, but it was just a doll, so I didn't play with it."

Sarmila looked at her son for a long time, then smiled. “I’m glad you have a friend.”

“Kiana’s nice, Mom.”

“Yes.” Sarmila stroked Arven’s hair. “Now go take a shower. I’ve already made lunch for you.”

As Arven went into the bathroom, Sarmila remained standing on the porch. Her eyes were glistening. Her son was smiling cheerfully, and that was enough.

That night, Arven slept peacefully. No more strange dreams. No calls from a foreign world. Just an ordinary night, like any other child’s.

But somewhere, in another world he wasn’t aware of, someone was always restless. 

A little girl Arven’s age named Elara was always gloomy because she, too, felt left out among her friends and siblings. Elara–a weak, powerless child living in a world where magic was everything.