Searching for Andromeda 103 Miko

Back when he was about five, an accident occurred; and that accident took his parents' life, and Samantha's consciousness. Samantha, surviving the impact but now on a vegetative state—and Samuel, badly wounded—was a gruesome sight for Berthold. 

Samuel woke up after a few days and then got the news about his sister. This was also the week that Samuel displayed an incredulous retention rate. The neurologists conducted tests on his brain and mapped the improved activity in his cognizance.

Samuel was a genius.

After his full recovery, Samuel was enrolled in school—and as expected, his level of knowledge surpassed those his age. He was then put into advanced and accelerated programs, until he got his degree at research.

The young Albrecht, despite his good memory—never recalled the majority of things about his childhood. He remembered the seemingly vaguest things and littlest details such as the ladybugs that try to climb the plant in their garden, his mother's red lipstick, Samantha carrying him to her arms, and his dad's late night teachings.

Samuel has a faint memory about his family, contrary to him being a person with a good retention rate. The doctors already told him that his brain's activity heightened due to the accident, so anything before the accident would be harder to remember. Although the doctors said it isn't definitive and the researches could either prove it wrong or strengthen the claim, Samuel dismissed any other possibilities.

Remembering the past would only mean dealing with painful memories.

"I'd rather not," Samuel said, "I'm good."

The villa owned by Samuel's father was being taken care of still. It was transferred to Samuel's uncle, who had taken the initiative to ask Samuel whether he wanted to live with his family or not. 

"We'll take you in, Sammy. Lorna would love to have you as her little brother. We'll live in the villa so that you'll be comfortable,"

Samuel, at the age of five, declined this. He still had his grandparents from the mother's side, and as per the law, they were the ones taking care of Sam. 

"You don't want to have big sis Lorna as a sister? She's the age of your comatose sister, Samantha. But unlike Samantha, Lorna is smarter. She's also taking advanced classes like you, Sammy. She wants to be an engineer someday, so she's doing her best. She'll surely be a great influence on you."

"I'll pass," Samuel said. "Besides . . . I don't think Lorna can replace my big sister."

**

Samuel "My friend's the dungeon conqueror. He's got some powers. We're on a journey to save Patriarge, so you guys can rest assured."

Empty promises—Samuel was aware he was saying these to calm them all; and these promises were vacant and Samuel was uncertain with his very own words. Nonetheless, Samuel remembered the guardian's words.

'Do not let the flame in your hearts die' or something like that.

Samuel turned to the girl. "I promise I'll save you all—" He grinned. "I promise we'll all get out of here safe and sound!"

It must be presumptuous of him to say this, but he had faith.

And faith will and always create truth.

Or so it seems.

Samuel sat by the floor, completely exhausted. That time, when he was shot with poison—he was unable to move his body like he was paralyzed. And not just that—as the name suggests, Samuel got numb. And numb as he was, Samuel was unable to resist when the young man wearing a tricorn shot a ball of water—which gradually grew larger as it got resupplied by the salt water from the ocean. Soon it was twice Samuel's size and had engulfed him.

Samuel couldn't breathe, and he couldn't move—but he was conscious.

He was aware of how all of them enclosed themselves into a capsule-like transparent cell as they plummeted to the ocean below. Samuel had seen the bottom of the carrack as they went forward and slightly deeper. From a considerable distance, he had seen what seemed like a submarine—no—an underwater galleon! Like one of those sailpunk movies. Before Samuel's eyes flickered to close, he was able to catch how they went inside the ship—they landed into its forecastle and by that time, they went through what seemed like a hatch. 

And the next thing Samuel knew is waking up slightly drenched inside a cell.

The children around him didn't look malnourished, but they did look skinny. They were grimy as well and obviously haven't taken a bath by the way they smelled. It was cold in the prison cell, so the air wafted their scent pretty strongly; the odor these children emanated was similar to unwashed laundry, and slightly akin to a dog that hasn't taken a bath.

Samuel, who made his own soap, felt an overwhelming sense of OC. But that didn't override the feeling of pity he had for these kids. All of them are so young—too young, in fact. Some of them looked as if they are four; the younger children were also gnawing on whatever they could find, and the older ones (just a year or two older) tries to keep them away from those objects.

But what could children this young gnaw and chew on? They were on a damp, prison cell that holds nothing but iron bars and puddles of grimy water in its cobblestone floor. Samuel turned his head towards the other children on the other cells. They have the same situation—but this cell has particularly the healthier-looking children.

The child from earlier was all skin and bones, and the others around her, were worse; their ribs were marking on their torn, ragged shirts—and their sunken eyes and protruding collarbones spoke of lengths. They were starving, and them, fretting on their nails, just showed how much they were hungry. Samuel felt a tug on his heart as he examines the state these children are in. 

"What happened to all of you?" Samuel asked; his voice was low and small, compared to his usual tone which was usually brash and bold. The children who were with Samuel in the cell stared among each other, as if to wait for the one who will speak. 

The girl who was tugging Samuel when he was having an argument with Jaxon took a step forward.

"You don't know?"

Samuel raised his electric-blue eyes towards the girl, who was looking three times healthier than the other one who got beat up by Jaxon. 

"I don't," Samuel said. 

The children shared knowing glances again, as if to communicate just by their eyes. Samuel couldn't tell what was inside their minds.

"We were bought . . . no, we were sold," the girl answered. "We were bought from our home country, Patriargë by the pirate captain."

Samuel's eyes widened. That was right—Patriargë! The country Yael was trying to save. There was indeed human trafficking there. 

"That's illegal," Samuel exclaimed.

"Illegal?" The children repeated in chorus.

"Y-yeah, illegal. I mean; we're talking about human trafficking here. Human rights." Samuel said. He found it odd that the pirate captain seemed to be blatant about committing this certain act. He was too confident that Samuel wondered just how fallen Patriargë is.

"Human rights?" The children, once more, asked in confusion.

Samuel felt his IQ dropping—but then he internally facepalmed. That was right. He was talking to CHILDREN. They barely learned ABCs with their current state. 

"I mean, it's bad to have you sold when you're living beings. That's beyond reason—it's just plain greed and evil."

The children, once more, exchanged gazes. 

The girl sighed, and then sat down in front of Samuel.

"Which country are you from?" The girl asked. "It seems your customs are different from us."

Samuel's electric-blue eyes constricted as he stares at the girl. She looked like five, but she talked like an adult.

"Here, those bad things you spoke of aren't bad. They're normal." The girl said. "People can trade their children for a bag of gold—and children can trade their senile parents for a good barter as well."

Samuel blinked.

"We were all just unlucky enough that someone took interest to buy us when our parents finally sold our birth certificates to the government."

Samuel felt a lump growing on his throat as he feels his blood boil. 

"What the hell?" Samuel clenched his fist. "You . . . you are all sold by your parents?"

For the whole time, Samuel was thinking about these children being kidnapped by some slave traders and now being captive by this certain mad pirate. But then . . . knowing that their parents are the ones that sold them off, Samuel felt as if he was on a blinding rage. Parents, selling their own, flesh and bones for money.

Samuel stood firm to his ground, and then sat up. With fiery, determined electric – blue eyes, he walked towards the girl in front of him and then placed both of his hands in her shoulders. 

"I promise; I'll get you all out of here. I have a plan in mind, and I would execute it when THAT guy arrives to help me, or the other way around. Whichever it is. I'll have all of you," Samuel purposefully yelled, "I promise, everyone!"

The girl looked taken aback, along with everyone else. Samuel felt awkward for a second. WHAT the hell was he doing? The girl's surprised face eventually softened until it finally the girl's lips curved into a bright, wide smile. At first, Samuel thought she was going to say 'thank you' or something that'll cheer Samuel up with his grand plan, but no; instead—

"Miko!!!"

The children then ran closer to the iron bars behind Samuel. The girl whose shoulders he was holding also ran to this 'Miko' as well.

Samuel turned his body towards the bars and saw a girl carrying what seemed like food.

"Miikkkoo!"

"Miko, we missed you so much!"

"Miko! Miko!"

"Calm down, now. There's food for everyone." A docile girl with a dark hair said with a chuckle. 

"Will you help me feed the children . . . Boy?" Miko said to Samuel, who was dumbfounded at the opened cell door.

Chain's Corner:

"Why do you love making our MCs collapse, faint, or blackout, Miss Author?"

Chain caressed her chin.

"I don't know. The moment seemed right. Is that valid?"

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Chapter end