Wild Tiger Chase - Chapter 18: Chapter 18

— Léon —
Léon's head hurt as much as his sore muscles, and that cryptic line the old woman gave him wasn't helping one bit. He studied her profile as she walked away. White, long, and thick hair locked in a braid, dark brown skin, black eyes, thin lips. Her clothes were bright, though. Yellow, orange, red, and embellished by many feathers, seeds, and flowers. She had tattoos, too. Many, many tattoos.
She reminded him of Rob and Anhangá.
The old woman crossed the curtains and Léon followed. He grimaced and closed his eyes—the sun was too bright outside. Once he opened them and his sight adjusted, his jaw slacked. The old woman's cottage was the only building he could see; Léon was in the middle of what looked like a real garden, the sky above him so bright and so blue, he felt as if he was inside an old photograph of the 2000s.
Where was all the green, gray, and orange from the pollution and the ever-wafting fallout?
"It's the atmosphere here," the old woman said. She smiled and shook her head as if Léon's arched eyebrows and parted lips were a leaflet to his thoughts. "Less pollution and a decent amount of the original atmosphere leaves the sky looking like this." She pointed up; her smile widened. "Beautiful, don't you think?"
Léon nodded. He couldn't answer for a solid minute—when he was ready to, the woman was already taking a left and disappearing behind the corner of the cottage. Léon rushed to catch up to her. "How do you know my na—"
"Look who's here!" Phillip cut in with a wide smile.
"Phillip?" Léon's heartbeat sped up. "You look...." He stopped.
The old woman raised her eyebrows and hummed. "So that's your name, huh."
"Hey! I introduced myself, unlike some other less polite people around here. Right, Caicai?" Phillip and the teenager were sitting side by side on a wooden bench, each one of them eating a porridge-like, semi-transparent paste doused in milk and topped with sugar.
The old woman scoffed and sat down beside the teen. "Stop calling me that. Both of you." She pointed her spoon at the teenager. "I'm way too old for nicknames."
"What's... happening here?" Léon mumbled. He looked at Phillip and let his eyes linger on the beautiful shade of tanned-red on his cheeks. His nose, the naked part of his chest, and even that silly smile of his made Léon think Phillip was... cured.
Maybe noticing the sheer intensity of Léon's gaze, Phillip turned around. "Remember to breathe, partner." He smirked and pointed at the old woman. "This is Caidara. Caicai, this is the man I was talking about." He narrowed his eyes. "I thought you said you'd tell him everything."
Caidara mouthed an overflowing spoon of porridge and milk. "I will. After breakfast."
Phillip perched on his seat. "Can I tell him?"
She shrugged. "Go ahead."
Under Caidara's curious gaze, Léon took a step forward and placed his free hand on Phillip's forehead. His fever was gone.
"Hey—" Phillip frowned and tried to push his hand away, but Léon took his wrist instead. "Stop worrying so much." Phillip scoffed. "Calm down, partner. I won't run away."
"Shut up," Léon mumbled.
There weren't black veins on Phillip's face anymore, and his long, slender fingers were back to their rosy, calloused normal. He was clean, his face shaved, and his hair gelled back as they should be. Léon ran his fingers through Phillip's blond locks. They were soft and strong, unlike the dried mess of a few hours ago. Not knowing what to do with the building relief in his chest, Léon hugged him. A long, tight, and warm hug that felt as comfortable as a nap in the sun. Phillip tensed at first—but the longer Léon held him, caressing the fine hairs on the back of his neck, the more Phillip melted against his arms.
When Caidara cleared her throat, Léon reeled a step.
"I hope you have a good explanation for this," Léon said. "Vanessa seemed serious when she told us about this sickness. I though... I feared—"
"Yeah, well." Phillip took in a deep breath, the tips of his ears painted in a strong shade of red. "We died, Leo. Welcome to the afterlif—"
Before he could complete the sentence, Caidara hit his head with her spoon. "Stop scaring him!" She hit him a few more times for good measure and faced Léon again. "Listen, child. This is no place for you to be. Old Continent is a wild arena, and anyone who discovers the little secret you hide in there"—she pointed at his chest—"will do whatever they can to take advantage of you. That's the only reason why I brought you all to my home. So you won't be used."
"They tried to do the same to me," said the teenager. "You're a cosmic trace... uh..."
"Wielder," Caidara completed. She hit Phillip with her spoon again, silencing his lingering laughter.
"Wielder," the teen echoed. "Aren't you? Cause if you are, like my brother and I, there's a lot of bad people who will want to use your powers. They tried to use mine, but Granny Caicai and my other two friends helped me. My Amma—my mother—helped me too, or tried, but she said it would be safer if I stayed with Granny Caicai for a time. Until she finds out what's wrong with me."
Léon stared at the kid, feeling a crease forming between his eyebrows. This teen had a cosmic wielder for a brother and was one, too. And he had said Amma. Was this kid half Indian, like Léon? But he looked like a druid, not like....
His eyes widened.
No. It couldn't be. This kid looked thirteen or fourteen while his brother was still seven. And Kaliandra would have told him if Pipo were a cosmic trace wielder too. His own mother wouldn't've hidden something like this from him. She knew how difficult it was for Léon, she would want him there to guide Pipo.
Then again, druid kids were already so rare—and to see one referring to his mother as "Amma" was... unsettling.
Caidara cleaned her spoon and went back to her porridge, motioning Léon to do the same.
Léon tried. He took a bit of the porridge, letting the sweetness of that cloud-like nothing melt against his tongue. Hell. The more he looked at the teen, the more they looked like his brother.
The teen chuckled. "What? You're staring. Did I... did I say something wrong, Granny?"
"No. I'm sorry." Léon blinked a few times and placed his bowl on the bench beside Caidara. He set a long, careful gaze on the teenager. "You... what's your name?"
Caidara's thin lips curled into a satisfied smile. At her side, the teen shifted on his seat. "Why?"
"Because you remind me of someone. And"—Léon's voice wavered; he cleared his throat—"and I want to make sure you're not him."
"Who?"
"My brother."
The teen smiled. "Oh, I'm not your brother. My brother has very, very long hair, you see. I don't remember Leo very much, but my amma told me once that he—"
"Holy fuck." Phillip's shoulders sank; his jaw slacked. "You've got to be kidding me."
"That he's very lord-like and sweet and that you don't say swear words, so I shouldn't either. And it's rude to interrupt when people are talking," the teen completed, giving Phillip an annoyed look.
"Pipo?" Léon asked in a small voice. "Pietro, is that you?"
The teen's eyes widened. "How do you know my name?"
Léon's breathing caught in his throat. He wanted to laugh and cry, but he settled into leaning forward in front of Pipo and resting his hands on his shoulders. With a breathless laugh, Léon gently pinched his cheeks like he used to do when he was still a baby-sized little brat. "Pietro, it's me. It's Leo. Your Leo."
Something shone in the teen's eyes. Pipo batted his bowl on the bench and got up, his height almost reaching Léon's shoulders. "Leo?" he asked in a somber voice. And as they shared yet another long look, Pipo finally stepped forward and laced his arms around Léon.
"Huh," Caidara mumbled, mouthing more of her porridge. She didn't seem surprised; instead, her face had a thin sheen of pride smeared all over it. "What a small world we live in."
"And weird. This world is so fucking weird," Phillip completed. "I mean, that's not even the weirdest thing I've seen in my life, but it sure makes it to top ten."
"So... what exactly happened to my little brother?" Léon looked from Pipo to Caidara. "Why is he looking so much older now? Why is Cae after him? And why did Cae... lie to me?" He pulled Pipo closer. "Oh! There's someone here who will love to see you, Pipo."
Phillip scoffed. "Are you really surprised, Leo? I told you you shouldn't trust that Cae guy."
Caidara slurped the milk from her bowl. She didn't seem as interested in their conversation anymore.
Léon shrugged. "Well... I thought he was being honest. He sounded honest."
"Cause you can't tell when other people are lying, partner. And you're a terrible liar yourself." Phillip finished his porridge and placed his bowl on the bench. "No shame in it. It's a good thing for a good boy."
Léon clicked his tongue and raised his hands, summoning an ethereal curtain at his side. His cheeks warmed up. "And, uh... I also want to know who cured you, of course." With a flick of his hand, Bonee stepped through.
The tigress already seemed to know what awaited her. She jumped on the bench and pushed her head against Pipo's chest, letting him hug her.
"Bonee!" Pipo laughed when she licked his fingers. He raised his eyes and set them on Léon. "Amma told me all about you, but... you're different." Pipo kissed the tigress' head. "Amma said you're calm and gentle and almost twice as taller as I am." He narrowed his eyes. "She was right about almost everything. I think I'll be taller than you someday."
Léon scoffed. "You're still a little brat." Léon blinked an annoying tear away. "Come here, Pipo."
They hugged again while Caidara finished her breakfast. Once she was done and they had stopped talking about Pipo's new favorite foods and how much he liked Mamón, Cae's anteater, Caidara guided Pipo, Léon, and Phillip through her garden.
Not too far away from the cottage, the short grass was replaced by longer blades and ever-thickening vegetation that soon transformed into a dense forest. The sound of running water mixed with the falling waterfall Léon saw between the trees. With a wide smile, Pipo rushed forward.
"Oh, Leo... you'll like this place," Phillip whispered, nudging his arm. He set off to follow Pipo, disappearing among the trees.
And when they broke the rim of trees, Léon's lips curled into an impressed smile. Old Continent never ceased to amaze him. Before him, three different rivers issued into a massive lake. Considering the soft vapor coming from the water, that leviathan of a lake was a hot spring.
"Let's talk here," Caidara said. She sat down on a crude hammock and patted the space at her side.
Once Léon sat down and smiled, his lips opening to comment on the view, Caidara silenced him with a hard stare. She thrust a hand into the folds of her clothing and took out what looked like a hand-made cigar.
"Listen closely, boy." She produced green fire from her fingertips and burned the end of her smoke. White, smelly clouds laced her words when she said, "I didn't cure your friend completely—he needs you to cure him."
Léon closed and opened his eyes, frowning. "Uh. What?"
"I kidnap the children from Senibetama. I cure them. I take them back. They're tasked to plant the next generations of trees to fix the mistake I made three years ago... and that's it." She crossed her arms, the cigar locked between her teeth. "The thunderstorm that flooded the forest and started killing the people—it was my fault. I helped someone that should have died; they lived and almost destroyed this place."
"Caidara, who—"
"It doesn't matter who I'm talking about. He's long gone by now, living in that new continent Brash built. We're safe for a while." She shifted on her seat and massaged her forehead. Caidara flicked the cigar over her hand, the green flames eating up the ashes. "What else do you need to know? Ah, yes. After what happened in the forest, everything became infected. The young ones are more susceptible to the sickness than adults, so the kids started dying. What happens is that their power trace is expelled from their... uh... how do you city-people call it? Genes? DNA? Cells? I don't care. Your power is expelled from you, and your anhang—I'm sorry, your Lifeforce—is purged with it. The reaction is so violent, people simply... pop." She took another drag and blew more smoke aside.
Caidara's eyes were dark and violent when she set them on Léon. "I couldn't let kids die, no matter the cost, not for a mistake I made. Nature will have to forgive me." The woman sighed and rolled her sleeves up to show the dark veins in her arm. "I took it back as much as I could, but it wasn't enough." She lowered her eyes. "It never seems to be enough."
A spell of silence fell over them. Caidara massaged her forehead, her temples, then straightened her posture, letting out a long, Aaah.
"All right. Now you know who I am, what happened to the forest, and why I do what I do." She scratched her chin. "What else did you ask?"
Léon's widened eyes zeroed in on the old woman. He opened and closed his lips like a goldfish, his words failing him.
"Right. Cae." Caidara cleared her throat. "The thunderstorm was an aberration, through and through. I tried to help and I did what I could—it's what druids do, and I'm the very first of them—but that ended when Cae's man occupied that damned village. Every time I take the sickness from one of the children, I need to swallow it or to throw it elsewhere. My body takes way too long to process it, and I would've died already if I had kept it in me—so I started to toss it in the forest. Tree after tree, I reinforced their sickness.
"Contained in the bark, the sickness wouldn't spread anymore—but that damned Caetano had to stir things up. He knows I can take the sickness from people, but he won't let me help unless I tell him how I do it. I'm not telling him that, of course. Knowing something like this would be the same as placing a weapon of mass destruction in the hands of a petulant child." Her fingers tightened around the cigar. "I told him only cosmic trace wielders can really cure it—I'm not one myself, so all I can do is to move it from one life form to another. But when the tree dies, the sickness goes back to its original host. This is why Cae's after your brother... he wants his powers. He used them once, and that irresponsible use of cosmic energy is what caused your brother's condition."
Léon furrowed his brows. "But what is wrong with my brother?"
Caidara's eyebrows twitched and her breathing shallowed. "I... I was hoping you would know. You are one of the three cosmic trace wielders, Léon!" Her words quivered as her face grew serious and her voice heavier. "Don't tell me you...! Inferno." She huffed and rubbed her face. "There can only ever be three cosmic trace wielders alive, and they are pulled towards each other. To help each other."
"What about people like Anhangá? I thought he understood about—"
"Where did you hear that name?"
"He's... someone I know."
Caidara joined her hands and leaned back, deep in thought. Her eyes jumped right and left as if she was reading an invisible book before her. Finally, she looked at Léon again. "If you don't know what's wrong with your brother, maybe we can talk to—"
Her sentence ended when a loud sound echoed inside the garden. Caidara raised her head and her eyes set on a dark cave entrance Léon hadn't noticed until then.
"What's happening?" he asked.
Pipo, Phillip, and Bonee left the hot lake and raced back to Caidara and Léon.
"Someone's here," Pipo said.
"It must be Cae. The damned trackers—they're still active," Phillip said.
"Impossible, nothing can track us here," Caidara said.
But... something ached inside Léon. He exchanged a glance with Pipo and the corners of their lips curled up.
"Caidara!" A female voice called.
Phillip frowned. "I recognize that voice."
A second, male voice joined in. "Oi! Caidara! We need your help! There is someone I must find in the forest. It's urgent!"
And this time, his heart raced. Before he could understand his own actions, Léon's body jolted to action, racing through the dense forest. Twigs clutched at his clothes and thorns scratched his face and arms as if trying to keep him away, but he didn't care. He broke through the line of trees and reached the cave passage.
Panting, his face traced with thin lines of blood, he stopped.
"Léon," the man in front of him said, his voice so low, frail, and intimate, it could've been whispered against his ear.
A smile spread across Léon's lips. His sight blurred. "Hello, Bhalu."