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Lorcan

Lorcan watched the situation unfold. The boy – Niarok – held his sister as she winced in pain. Her face was shining with sweat and her breathing seemed laboured. She was clearly getting worse.

Quin moved past him, his face stricken. Lorcan had of course heard every word he had said. Including the last part.

Amputation.

Lorcan clenched his fists and shut his eyes. He felt helpless. Again.

He looked at Quin, his heart sinking at the look on his face. He wanted to say something to him, a word of comfort perhaps. But he didn’t know what.

Surely that wasn’t the only option.

He had to do something. To help her. He couldn’t stand back and do nothing.

Lorcan opened his eyes, filled with new resolve.

He appeared by the sibling’s side in an instant. Niarok looked up at him suspiciously.

Silently, Lorcan crouched and pulled out a wrapped paper bag from his jacket pocket. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this.

“This will help,“ he told them. Unwrapping it, he pulled out a chunk of golden yeast. It came with a faint smell of salt and berries.

“What is that?” Niarok demanded.

Lorcan paused before answering. “My people call it Arankā. Its a yeast, with strong energy giving properties. Legend has it that a lady clothed with the stars came down from the heavens and gifted my people with it.” He shrugged. “Its probably just a silly story. But all who eat it gain strength, physically or mentally.”

He held it out to them. Niarok eyed him suspiciously before taking it. Breaking off a piece he fed it to his sister bit by bit.

The girl chewed slowly. She frowned. “It tastes really good. All fluffy like cake.”

Lorcan smiled. “It does, doesn’t it?”

”Can I have some more?”

He let out a chuckle. “Not so fast a stór. I only have a few more, and they’re only to be used in emergencies. This constituted as one.”

He tilted his head at the girl, who looked at him with wide, wondrous eyes. “Name’s Lorcan. What’s yours?”