A FATHER'S TALE

OUR story begins with tears.

Tears borne out of fear.

Fear for our very lives as we ran, day and night to flee.

Flee the hatred of people.

People who believed we were lesser, who looked at us as animals.

I remember my father trembling as he held me tight. I was but a little boy. The fear in his eyes were obvious. Maybe his eyes were always like that. That's what I remember of him the most. Those big, strained, fearful eyes.

It has been several days. Days of running through the forest. Running from pursuers who never stopped, never gave up. It was many many days of hunger topped with fear. But my father kept us moving, he always tried. I remember how he labored to keep us alive. I remember his thin gangly hands pulling me, carrying me, hugging me. I remember his voice, his whispers, his songs. But his eyes always keep haunting my memories.

I never understood back then why we had to run. Why those people hated us. Now I finally know. But I still don't understand why.

I remember the days of walking under the heat of day. Always hurrying, always hungry. I cried a lot, but father's hugs gave me some comfort. We ate what we could get our hands on. We ran from every noise. Father tried his best to keep us alive. Father tried his darned best. Hunger always clouded my mind. Sadness forever shadowed my heart. The days were unforgiving, but father never once lost his will to live. I understand that now.

There were moments that I wanted to play but father was always serious, always wary. I cried in dismay, I was a child, I didn't understand so I wanted to get my wishes. My father cried with me during these times, hugging me in his skinny arms and telling me to be patient. Life was painful. Life was hard. It was unfair, but father never complained.

I remember the day I lost my mother. But I don't remember most of the details. All I recall is that we were running, she was carrying me, and she fell. I hugged her tight. But she has fallen asleep. My father grabbed me and we ran leaving mama sleeping on the ground. I screamed her name, but she didn't wake up. Tata's voice was breaking when he said mama is resting and we will see her soon. I waited for it. For a long time I did. But we never went to see Mama again. I understand now.

I remember the day I lost Tata. He hid me inside a big tree. Told me to be quiet. Not to make a sound. He promised to come back. So I waited. For days that I don't remember how many. But he never returned. Dizzy with hunger, I went out to search for food. I saw a berry bush and ate like mad. Then I heard laughter, more like a snicker.

I saw two men standing in front of me as I raised my head. Two pale skinned men. One was grinning, the other carrying a sick expression. Most of the pale men reacted to our dark skin and pointed ears like that; like they are looking at some rotting, unsavory thing. One of them pointed his gun at me. I cried and covered my eyes. That's what father told me; cover your eyes son and remember mama.

Be brave. It will be alright.

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"YOU have to be brave my child." the father whispered into the little girl's ear as he finished his tale.

He stared at the barren land that stretched before him. He looked at the small patch of ground filled with small plants, fighting to live. He shifted the sleeping girl's position across his body.

"The world is full of hateful people." his voiced trailed into the wind. He stared at the sunrise cutting across the sky. "I didn't understand then. But I have an inkling now." he hugged his daughter lovingly.

"I think I understand why Tata and Mama did the things they did. The choices they made." tears began to form around his exotic orange eyes. "I will protect you from the hate of the world and I will teach you to overcome it."

He wiped his eyes with his hairy arm.

"We will teach you to be strong. Stronger than those who hate us. Strong enough to show them our answer to their hatred."

The father turned to stare into his surroundings once more. Into the small rock houses around him and the smaller patches of green that everyone is striving to grow. He mused about the will of the people around him, how their Chief inspire them to persevere amidst their destitute life. The same Chief that saved him from certain death so many suns ago.

"We must never forget the sacrifices of those before us. And we will honor that by living. By never giving up."

"Ellan." a female voice called from behind. "Breakfast is waiting."

"I used to think that hate is the answer to hate. But then you came into my life. You and your mother..." Ellan whispered to his daughter as he turned towards the voice. He stared at his surroundings once more and saw not the barren rocks nor the scant plants. He saw the smile of his wife as he felt the breathing of his daughter on his chest.

"I finally understand now."

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To learn more about the story of the Lilochs, read their history at

The Chronicles Book: The Time of the Liloch