Grake held and rocked the alien child, worried what he was doing wrong. It was crying and crying, inconsolable.
A rough knock on the door had Grake scrambling to answer. He found his closest neighbor at the door. Usually already a grumpy person, his neighbor glared at him from under his heavy brows with a displeased scowl.
"I am so sorry! I really don't know what I am doing wrong." Grake said, exhausted with lack of sleep over the past few days as he tried to figure out how to care for the child.
The other villager continued to frown. "I don't understand why you even bother with it." He grumbled at Grake. "It will be far better off with its own kind. Just take it back where you found it!"
"But Humans don't respawn like us!" Grake said with distress.
"You don't even know if its a Human..." The other villager managed to frown even more, his eyebrows joining into one line and hanging over his dark green eyes, deep set in his face. Embers of fire danced in them, reflecting from the fireplace that Grake had running to cook the stew he just tried to feed to the child earlier.
Grake didn't answer, refusing to meet the other villager's eyes and only rocking the child as he desperately tried to hush him.
"Then, I don't know!" The villager threw up his hands in frustration. "But you need to do something! My children and I couldn't get any sleep at night for all the noise it makes!"
"I am so sorry, Grisham. I am trying to calm him down. I am." Grake said, nearly crying himself for causing such problems for everyone.
The neighbor gave the child in Grake's arms an unfriendly look. Stepping closer, he studied its angrily twisted face and mouth opened so wide it seemed nearly square.
"Well... Is it thirsty? Hungry?" He asked in a tone that let relieved Grake know that he intended to help solve the issue. It was a far better attitude than the complaints he got so far in form of stares and mutters behind his back.
"I gave him food, but he wouldn't eat it. He almost chocked on it. I made him some stew and he did eat some, but I think it gave him a stomachache." Grake said, giving the colicky child a helpless look. The being continued to wail, its small face scrunched up and blotched red, its small hands clenched into fists and aimlessly waving them around. Its tightly shut eyes leaked beads of colorless water.
The other villager leaned in closer and pulled in a sniff, only to immediately step back with a grimace. "... Did you clean it up? Humans and their animals make waste after they eat. It's disgusting."
"I did!" Grake said defensively, a bit embarrassed.
"Well, maybe Humans are like their animals. And their animals do not eat normal food when they are babies. They drink their mother's milk! Maybe that's what he needs." The other villager suggested, some curiosity breaking through the complaining tone despite himself.
Grake's mouth made a small 'o'.
"You are right! I didn't think about that!" With excitement, he looked at the tiny crying Human, then felt his heart fall. "But... where am I going to get milk?"
The other villager threw up his hands once again. "A cow of course! Where else? Go talk to Samnil!"
Grake nearly jumped, giving the other villager a truly grateful look.
"I will do that right now! Thank you, Grish! You are so clever."
The other villager's face calmed a bit, pleased. He nodded, watching Grake scramble to quickly put on his street robe.
"Of course I am. I raised sixteen children myself... But don't thank me, yet. Let's go right now and see if it works, first." He declared and waited until Grake, the child bundled in his hands, hopped outside his house. He lead the way with determined expression, his chin lifted high, while more villagers stopped and looked after them.
"We are going to our farmer to get cow milk, to see if that's what his little Human needs to stop crying." Grake's neighbor declared to them. Their faces immediately turning curious, the villagers abandoned their affairs and trailed after them, telling others what was going on. By the time Grake and his neighbor reached Samnil's house, an entire small crowd followed them.
The farmer villager stopped planting grain and blinked at their approach, with confusion looking from one face to the next.
"Milk! We need milk!" Grisham demanded, taking charge. "It's for Grake's little Human. To see if it stops all the crying."
"Oh!" The farmer jumped in place.
"I have the following items for trade." Grake began to offer, but the farmer only threw up his hands as he hurried to his barn.
"You can arrange terms with him later, Grake." Grake's neighbor grumbled and the old villager gave everyone an abashed look, seeing how the other villagers began to nod in agreement, their faces annoyed.
The crowd grew even bigger by the time the farmer came out with a bucket of warm, light-colored fluid. From somewhere, a cup appeared, thrust into Grake's hands. Then, a spoon.
Everyone bent closer, watching. And a nearly common breath of relief went out when the little creature in old villager's arms first quieted, tasting the food he gave it, and then proceeded to eat until it sighed with what seemed to be contentment, settling for a quiet nap.
"Yey!" Several voices exclaimed and began to talk, until Grake's neighbor cast them all a glare.
"Shhh! Let that little monster sleep. I wish to get some peace and quiet for once!"
The conversations toned down, though didn't stop entirely, while Grake turned to walk home. The farmer ran up to him, thrusting the bucket to him. "Take it! Take it!"
Irritably, Grake's neighbor took the bucket and carried it, earning himself another grateful look from Grake, whose hands were full.
"Thank you. Thank you so much." Grake said, nearly crying as he smiled at them all. The faces around him softened a bit and the crowd began to disperse, villagers returning to their own affairs.
Satisfied, Grake's neighbor walked with him to the door of his house. Placing the bucket within, he irritably waived off Grake's attempts to thank him again. Watching how Grake gently carried the sleeping being to the make-shift crib, he shook his head with disapproval, though with less irritation than before.
"... So, you are really thinking of keeping him?" He grumbled. Grake stubbornly nodded, his lips tightening as he straightened the plain, woven blanket around the child. The other, which he had found along with the child, he had earlier carefully folded and put away, figuring that it would raise even more questions.
"You should really think about that, Grake. You may think that you are doing the right thing, but you are forgetting how old you are. You have at most four or five years left here. Who is going to take care of this child then? I know that none of us here will want to do it."
"I... " Grake blinked, taken aback. He had not even thought about that, yet, so busy he was with just trying to figure out how to take care of his most important needs, like drinking and eating.
"I will... find someone to help me."
"Well, it's your decision..." The other villager shrugged and Grake nodded.
"... I still think it's a mistake, though... Keeping him..."
Grake didn't answer that. Giving the old villager and his foundling another dubious look, though much less grumpy than before, the other villager humphed and left to his own house.
Grake continued to stand by the child's crib and considered the villagers he knew, whom he might ask for help. He knew that his neighbor was right. None of the villagers in his village would be interested in helping him, not when they already had their own families and children to take care of. That meant that he would have to look beyond his village.
The child in the crib stirred and Grake looked at him.
"Don't worry, little one. Don't listen to them. I can take care of you." He reassured.
Of course, if there were other humans around, Grake would have simply taken the child to them. Just these few days of trying to care for him showed Grake how different Humans were from villagers. He feared making a mistake and accidentally harming the little Human, instead of helping him.
Like his neighbor said, he really would have been better off with the other Humans. They would surely know how to take care of their little one. Only there were no Humans here and Grake didn't know where they might be. He knew that they lived out there, somewhere, in places beyond their Valley. The elders were certain of it, even though no villager from around these parts had seen them.
Even those few brave villagers with thirst for adventure, who usually chose to travel from place to place rather than settle down, did not dare to go too far beyond their Valley borders. It was too dangerous and too far and none of those who tried to leave here had ever returned. This was not something that Grake himself was willing to do. Maybe if he was younger...
Grake shook his head and pulled a chair closer to the crib. His eyes settling on the child once more, he couldn't help smiling a little, pleased that he was able to comfort him. The child slept, his expression peaceful and content, his strange eyes closed and little chest rising and falling steadily with breath.
Grake wasn't even sure why he felt so protective of this alien little being, but he didn't mind. It was always good to be kind to other living creatures. He knew that and that was enough for him to make his decision.
He was going to keep him.
"You need a name, little one." The old villager considered the child. "I need to call you something, not just 'little Human'... Or... Do you already have a name? Let's see..."
Grake narrowed his green eyes and the air above the child made a faint glimmer, strange, alien symbols resolving into changing shapes that Grake didn't recognize. He frowned a little.
"Well, someone did name you. But it's not even a proper name. Who would name their child with just numbers and letters? No, you need a proper Name."
"... Hmm. Let's see... You are Human, so..."
A wistful look held in the old villager's eyes as he looked at the child, not seeing him, but vivid scenes and images from the stories he loved to listen to as a child. He loved imagining what it might be like to travel to faraway places where other villagers lived, where villagers could go on adventures and mysterious Human heroes fought powerful monsters who sometimes came from other realms to spread chaos and destruction. His eyes focusing on the tiny being sleeping quietly in his crib, the old villager considered him.
After a moment, he nodded, satisfied.
"Yes, that will be a good name for you... Because that's who you will be when you grow up... You will grow up and become stronger. And then you will protect us all. Everyone will be glad that I brought you here and didn't take you away..."
"... Hero."
The place above the child's head pulsed and resolved into silver letters. The old villager smiled.
The child stirred, as if feeling that something changed, his eyes opening just a little to allow silver glow past his dark eyelashes, then closing again as he yawned. The villager yawned as well and leaned his head against his arm, exhaustion of past few days robbing him of strength to even take off his street robe. He fell asleep where he sat, right next to the crib.