Follow Ibrahim on his journey to save his dying mother. His only hope lies in the mysterious but legendary Abada--which may or may not actually exist. Is Ibrahim about to discover the secret of a lifetime, or is it just another legend meant for entertainment?
Part 1: Igniting the Journey
All of his life, Ibrahim's parents tried to convince him their world was not a magical land with enchanted creatures and mystical secrets. Ibrahim simply would not be convinced, however, even now in his early twenties. Their world was not like the other 9 planets of the solar system, not even the least similar. Anyone who had grown up on one of those worlds would disagree with Ibrahim's parents instantly--Kronos had to be a magical land. The landscape was beyond comparison. Each blade of grass, each flower, each bird looked like it had been hand painted by some renowned artist with too much time on his hands. More vibrant than any of the other planet's surfaces, Kronos was the only place were art grew from the planet's core. If hand painted landscapes could manifest from invisible hands, anything was possible--even the legends of the mysterious creature said to hide in the forest.
According to legend there were only a few things that distinguished the rare and immortal Abada from the common Okapi that grazed in the plains. The Abada was smaller, like a calf that never grows, and had a long skinny tail with furry white plumage. The Abada also had horns, tall twisting horns that glittered like crystals in the sun. What was truly special about these elusive creatures was their healing ability. It was said that the horn of an Abada could cure any illness, even old age. Naturally, the sport of hunting Abada had been popular, long ago when it was sensible to believe in such creatures, but in Ibrahim's time, such belief was meant only for children.
Of course, the combination of
Ibrahim's over active imagination and dying mother would only lead Ibrahim to other conclusions. He knew the Abada existed and he was determined to find one. He had read every book there was on the animal and if anyone could find one, he was certain it was himself. He was also certain that if he revealed his intentions to anyone they would think him crazy, possibly have him committed to a rehabilitation center, and scold him for leaving his mother to her deathbed.
So when darkness fell, Ibrahim gathered his things, tiptoed past his parents room, rushed outside, and gently closed the door behind him, secretly escaping into the night. The night air was warm and sweet with the scent of the night flowers. Only a few of the golden flowers could be found in the city, but just past the city's edge, where the plains met civilization, there were thousands of the small flowers glowing like fireflies. Ibrahim was thankful for their light as he wandered through the tall grass
letting his eyes adjust. Above him, were Kronos' two moons, dim but great in size.
It had been a long time since he was a boy running and playing in these fields, but he remembered a trail east of the plains which cut through a forest. No one had ever used that trail to enter the forest, or so his parents claimed. The tall pine-like trees with red berries were not ominous or menacing neither was the path run-down. Yet, it was true that Ibrahim had never seen anyone take it, nor had he spoken with anyone who admitted to entering the woods. Once, when Ibrahim would not drop the topic, his mother said the path led to one of the king's palaces and therefore they were not supposed to venture there.
If Abada's existed, surely they were hiding somewhere no one ever went, so logically, that path was the first place Ibrahim would look. Today, he was going to find out what was beyond that path.
Part 2: The Forbbiden Journey
It didn't take Ibrahim long to find the path twist beneath the tall trees. Not a thing had changed since he was a boy; weathered stones still peaked from beneath the grass and fallen red blossoms from the trees still littered the clearing. Contrary to the weathered and untouched facade, the grass was low. When the sun came up, Ibrahim would be able to tell if it had been cut or worn down. Until then, he would have to wonder.
To anyone else, the grass may have looked uninviting--such was the side effect of 3-D living art--but to Ibrahim, the grass was heaven. Soft blades tickling his skin like silk; there was comfort in the way the grass connected to his skin, a reminder that he, too, was a work of art. Unlike the trees and the grass, there were no brush strokes visible in Ibrahim's skin, but the way the vibrant green moved between the shimmering silver and smokey black layers of his skin like paint
splatter was just as magical. Lying in the grass, semi-camouflaged, he closed his eyes and waited for the sun.
That morning, his excitement was echoed in the green blobs of liquid squirming beneath his skin; Ibrahim was practically vibrating with anticipation. This was the result of simply upon placing just one foot on the path, it was possible he would have a heart attack after placing the second foot on the trail.
You don't have time for this. Ibrahim told himself. Just find the Abada and get back to Mom.
He took a deep breath, the submerged his body in the forest taking long, deliberate strides. Though the trees were tall, they were not thick enough to completely block out the sun--something Ibrahim had been counting on. The lighting was well suited for his excursion, so he settled on a light pace and kept his eyes in constant motion, scanning the forest for any sign of his treasure.
Only fifteen minutes or so had passed when Ibrahim started to doubt himself. Perhaps it was the fatigue of walking in the heat, or simply the rationality of his parents creeping into his brain. Either way, Ibrahim knew he needed to take a break. There was a large tree ahead of him, with branches that swirled like vines and dangling purple fruit. Not only was it beautiful, it was perfect for shade and edible. Ibrahim leaned against the tree gratefully and tugged at one of the oval shaped melons.
For a moment, Ibrahim allowed his eyes to rest as he devoured the sweet fruit. Deep purple juice trailed down his hands and trickled
between his fingers, but no one was there in the middle of the forbidden path to witness his poor eating habits. Or rather, he assumed no one was there.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" a voice called to him in a strangely calm tone.
Quick to his feet, Ibrahim readied his bow and arrow. "I am Ibrahim. I'm on a quest."
If it weren't for the fear that he was indeed trespassing on the king's property, Ibrahim would have laughed at the thought saying the words "I'm on a quest" aloud. Now, however, he was worried about what trouble he might have gotten himself into. Trespassing on the king's private property was bad, but surely there were worse scenarios.
"Show yourself." Ibrahim called out. "I mean you no harm...provided you mean me no harm as well."
To his left, emerged a small boy, no more than ten years old. His red hair was wild and tangled and his matching red eyes wild with fear, but the warm orange flowing in his skin was calm and steady--
steadier than Ibrahim's green for certain.
"How did you get here?" Ibrahim asked as he lowered the bow. "Are you alright? What is your name, son?"
The boy glanced around nervously. "I don't know. I don't remember. The Abada call me Luca."
Part 3: Talking to a Child of the Abada
You've seen--and spoken to--the Abada?"
Luca nodded, seemingly shocked that Ibrahim found it unusual. "They found me and take care of me."
"Can you take me to them?" Ibrahim was dizzy with excitement. They were real and they were somewhere near. He had only to convince the young boy to take him to them.
"I don't know," Luca mulled over the thought, taking a seat on a nearby stump. "I'll ask them!" With great enthusiasm, the boy leapt from his perch and took off into the forest. As he disappeared, Ibrahim heard him call out. "Wait there."
The anticipation was over- whelming. Ibrahim had never come so close to solid evidence of their existence and the thought made him giddy. So many great things would come from this discovery--of course he'd have to keep silent to anyone outside of his family. The forests would be swarming with men hunting and capturing the Abada; it would be a disaster.
That was when Ibrahim realized he didn't have a solid plan. Until seconds ago, he had assumed the Abada were like Kronos' other animals. According to the boy, they were capable of thought and speech. How would Ibrahim convince them to give him their horn? Killing one had always been an option he was forced to entertain, but it didn't feel right to
him, especially now.
The boy had been gone for so long, Ibrahim was beginning to think he would never return. When he did, he was not alone. There was something moving in the trees behind him. Ibrahim could sense them watching him even though he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Ibrahim shuddered.
"Everything alright?" he called to the boy nervously.
"They want to know why you're looking for them." Luca said innocently.
"I need their help." Ibrahim explained. "My mom is dying."
The little boy looked at the ground and kicked a rock. His expression was somber.
Ibrahim waited, expecting an explanation or a story--anything. But there was only silence. Ibrahim could hear the leaves ruffling in the wind, the gentle flapping of bird wings in the canopy, and the scurry-
ing of furry animals on the forest floor. He had waited patiently, but now time was running out; his mom wouldn't wait forever.
"Please," Ibrahim pleaded. "I need help."
There was a loud shuffling and Luca disappeared in the forest again, this time only for a moment.
"You will have to give them something in return." Luca explained. "But you may follow me to the hidden palace."
Part 4: True Sacrifice
Ibrahim had waited his entire life to see an Abada, and now he was meeting one. The creature stepped out of the woods behind the little boy with regality and grace. Such dignity for a small, seemingly defenseless animal. A tingling sensation ran through Ibrahim's body as he followed the creature obediently.
The Abada led Ibrahim to a stunning palace made of smooth silver stone with carefully crafted spires and skillfully painted glass. There was no doubt that this palace was man made; it was known as the lost palace of the king. Legend depicted this exact palace as the king's home during a time when the king was the protector of the Abada, a time when everyone believed in their existence.
"It's real." Ibrahim whispered.
"Yes. But without an heir." the Abada spoke plainly, startling
Ibrahim ever so slightly.
"The new king doesn't believe in you." Ibrahim stated matter of factly.
"No, but his son will," as the Abada spoke Ibrahim and Luca sat before him on the ground--Luca seemingly tired from running back and forth, Ibrahim in wide-eyed awe. "Luca, go find the others please." The boy was quick to obey, and as soon as the boy was gone, the Abada was quick to continue speaking. "My brethren and I have been raising this boy since we found him as baby. He is the king's missing son."
Ibrahim's eyes went wide. There were many rumors of the prince's disappearance but not that speculated about him remaining alive. This sweet child, if anyone found him, would be the future king...
"You want my horn to save your mother. I want Luca to be the next king of Kronos." the Abada said wearily. "In exchange for my horn,
you will raise him. You'll make sure he remembers us. And when he is of age, you will return him to his father."
Ibrahim had expected the Abada to want something that Ibrahim had to give--money, food, silence. Never had it crossed his mind that he would be handed the boy and expected to become a parent. How would he explain the child to people? Besides, he wasn't equipped to raise a prince! Of course, he couldn't imagine that growing up in the woods was suitable for a young boy either... Logic told him to say no, but he'd bet his mother's life on a legend that turned out to be true. How could he walk away from a miracle?
"Yes. I will take care of him."
The Abada sighed heavily, then nodded graciously at Ibrahim. "When Luca returns. I will tell him that he is to return to the city with you. As soon as you take my horn, the two of you will leave without looking back."
"Why?" Ibrahim found himself questioning.
"Removing the horn will kill me."
Part 5: Change of a Lifetime
The walk home was much longer than Ibrahim remembered. Perhaps it was from Luca stopping to ask questions; he'd never been outside of the woods so everything about the meadow and the village on the horizon were foreign. Luca marveled at the glowing flowers,
stopping to pick a few for Ibrahim's mom. The child was, thankfully, unaware of the dire consequences of Ibrahim's and despite the sudden change seemed genuinely excited to be starting a new life.
"Does your mom like flowers?" Luca asked grabbing a handful. "Can we take these back to her?"
Ibrahim nodded solemnly. A weight he had not expected was pressing on his heart. The Abada had sacrificed his life so that Ibrahim didn't have to lose his mom, a woman the Abada didn't even know... He didn't feel worthy of such of a fate. Of course there was also the matter of Luca; he was becoming less and less sure of how to explain the sudden appearance of the boy.
"Ibrahim?" Luca called to him. "What's it like in the village?"
Ibrahim thought on the question; he'd never described living in society to someone who had never lived in society. "It's exciting" he finally concluded. "There are cars
and more flowers and homes. The market has basket weavers and jewelry makers, blacksmiths and carpenters. You can watch people create something out of practically nothing, there."
Luca scrunched his nose. "I've never heard of these things."
Ibrahim was not surprise. "They're all quite fascinating. I'll take you there after we make sure my mom is alright."
The little boy squealed with delight.
When they arrived at the village gates, Luca marveled at the masonry of the city. The only building he'd ever seen was the lost palace. Although it was elegantly sculpted, it was more a statue or a piece of art, these building were homes, crafted to match personalities and budgets. Ibrahim's home was near a small stream, which pleased Luca more than the spaciousness of the home. Ibrahim decided the boy's strange fascination with watching the fish in the creek was perfect for the mom-
ent.
"Luca, stay here and watch the fish. I'm going to take this to my mother and explain everything. Then I'll introduce you."
Absent-mindedly, the boy nodded and waved Ibrahim off indifferently.
When Ibrahim reached this parent's room on the top floor the tower, his mother was asleep and father was sitting by the window.
"Where have you been!?" the older man exclaimed. Their matching green liquid beneath his skin was expanding, slow and stead between the older man's layers of dark and silvery skin. It was a sure sign of
controlled anger. "I've lied to her constantly to avoid rousing her up! Now what do you have to say for yourself?"
"I got it." Ibrahim whispered, then excitedly. "I got it."
"Got what?"
"The antidote." Ibrahim displayed the shining, crystalline horn of the Abada and grinned. "The Abada are real."
"Ibrahim, this is no the time for fairy tales"
"But it's true!" Ibrahim protested. "If we feed her the horn--"
"We don't have time to argue!" his father interrupted.''
Ibrahim removed the horn from his bag and flashed the object before his father. He knew his father had never seen such a horn before. As the light from the window grazed the surface of the horn, Ibrahim saw the older man's eyes widen.
"Hurry, when she wakes we must feed it to her." Ibrahim filled the silence with clear logic.
While the two men ground the tip of the horn, mixing it into a pot of soup, Ibrahim began explain the adventure to his father. It was easier to tell him about Luca than the Abada, a boy wandering int he forest was not supernatural and his father could process the possibility. The idea of Ibrahim raising the boy due to an oath sworn to a dying Abada, however, was not something Ibrahim's father was willing to accept just yet.
"Just wait until you see the antidote work." Ibrahim said calmly.
His father nodded gruffly. "One week. If your mother isn't healthy again in one week, the boy goes to the orphanage and you stop all this nonsense."
It didn't take a week for Ibrahim's father to form a bond with Luca, nor did it take a week for Ibrahim's mother to regain her strength. In just three days they were fixing the
spare room to suit Luca's fancy. Things could never be the same for them now, they all shared the burden of protecting Luca even when Ibrahim returned to his flat. They all knew the true awesomeness that existed in the nature of their planet, and while they may have finally understood Ibrahim's belief in the magical, they were all bound to keep the Abada secret.
Regardless of the secrets and struggles, they were a family and thanks to Ibrahim's determination and the Abada's sacrifice, they would continue to be a family for a long time to come.
Ibrahim had waited his entire life to see an Abada, and now he was meeting one. The creature stepped out of the woods behind the little boy with regality and grace. Such dignity for a small, seemingly defenseless animal. A tingling sensation ran through Ibrahim's body as he followed the creature obediently.
Or if He shakes His head in disappointment.
I feel the weight emerge over my life.
