NOVEL WEB Chapter 473
The sun dipped below the horizon, and an inky darkness enveloped the land. In its place, the moon timidly peeked out from beneath the vast desert horizon, where the stars danced in the sky.
The starry sea unfolded above. Amidst the desert night, the Milky Way flowed long and silver, while nomads gathered around a crackling campfire, busily preparing their meals, the aroma of cooking rice wafting through the air.
This was a No Man’s Land crawling with monsters, but it was not monsters that ruled the barren wilderness. The descendants, following in the footsteps of their ancestors who had traversed the crimson desert for millennia, sought out clearings devoid of beastly traces. There, they made the earth and sky their resting place and soothed their weary bodies and souls.
The age-old dance of magic and science had birthed the fruits of civilization in the desolate desert. They bore the name of broadcasting.
[Yes, greetings, dear viewers. It’s time for the voice that brings hope: Al-Sawt (الصوت).]
A small radio sat upon a low, flat stone, serving as a tiny door to the world.
[It has become night. Have you wrapped up your day well? It’s a warm night, for a change.
As always, let’s start our first piece of news with the weather. A cool breeze will sweep through for a few days, with clouds and some rain potentially on the way. To quote a listener who shared their feelings with the meteorological office, now is the perfect time! What do you mean by perfect? It means it’s just the right moment to embark on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land to welcome ‘Aramad’!
This year, the period of ‘Aramad’ spans a total of 32 days! There’s plenty of time to leisurely visit the holy places. How about spending today with a good book and a hot cup of tea? Surely even the divine wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself after working so hard.
However, you should absolutely refrain from venturing into the northern deserts, no matter how urgent your business may be! Until our mother’s fury subsides, just avoid the northern deserts completely!]
A youthful boy herding livestock heard the voice and came closer. The boy’s eyes sparkled at the tales told by the soundbox crafted from metal and wood.
Suddenly, as the boy reached for the rifle beside the radio, the old herder sharply warned him, “Hey—what do you think you’re doing, touching your grandfather’s things?”
The old herder, feeling sorry for his sulking grandson, gently patted his head and pulled the rifle away from the boy. The hefty firearm rested next to the radio as the old man leaned back and drew on his hookah (أرجيلة: a type of water pipe popular in Islamic cultures).
As a haze of smoke spiraled upwards into the night, the wind carried the soft sounds of the radio.
[There was recently an abrupt interruption in our broadcasts. Those tuning into Al-Sawt must have been quite bewildered.
As you might know, a few of our enthusiastic ‘listeners’ have not been fond of our broadcasts. They seem to be even more displeased than you can imagine.
Due to some friction with those individuals, we had to halt our transmission and take refuge.
Did our playful comments get us in trouble? Ha ha. Of course, that’s just our misinterpretation.]
The sound from the radio drifted through the air, tickling the ears of the old herder, who flicked his fingers against the water pipe’s mouthpiece.
[My colleagues and I strive to deliver only hopeful news to our listeners…. yet these days, we can only convey sad tidings, which weighs heavily on our hearts.]
The host’s words paused momentarily, implying that listeners should brace themselves for the upcoming news.
Understanding the implication, the herder called the boy back. Offering him a stick to hold with his small, tender hands, the old man tasked the boy with watching over the livestock.
The young herder led the dog and goat toward the oasis. The beginning and continuance of life—water of life for animals living under the embrace of the Earth Goddess. The child, guiding the livestock, drew strength from the sea of sand filling his hands, crossing the wasteland.
Seeing this, the old herder’s eyes gently closed. It was then that the host resumed with the awaited updates.
[Ten days prior, a shell fired by government forces in the No Man’s Land struck a civilian home, killing thirty people and injuring hundreds. Three days later, a shell hit the marketplace. Our dear spokesperson stated, ‘Civilian casualties are the tragic result of unfortunate incidents, and social chaos is provoked by criminals and anti-government organizations.’]
[The government declares this an area rife with violence and robbery, yet they are blind to the truth.
The same goes for the warlords. Under the pretext of rooting out collaborators, they drag government employees’ families into the public square, burn them alive, shoot them, and behead them in a vicious cycle of violence. Civic patrols…. I’d rather not mention them. Sometimes, it’s hard to distinguish them from mere robbers.]
Reflecting on this, it seems our dear government spokesperson is spot on for once. Even a broken clock is right twice a day, right?]
[However, today, I witnessed a remarkable scene on the street. I saw a man carrying a legless child on his back, running through a hail of gunfire at a junction. Tragically, I also witnessed a sniper’s bullet strike the man’s heart. Who was the real criminal?]
[Was it the dying child? The man crossing the battlefield? Or the sniper hiding behind the building? If we’re to hold the one who pulled the trigger responsible, then am I, sitting quietly here in this safe studio, merely a target of blame?]
[The existence of hell is a matter of intrigue even among theologians. If hell exists, will I, who has ignored the flickering flame of life, truly find myself there?]
[And what about the bandits who harm others to procure food? What about the soldier who fires on rebels under orders? Conversely, what of the rebels aiming their weapons at soldiers? They say those who die in holy wars against infidels go to heaven, yet here brothers spill each other’s blood, deeming one another heretics—the irony is boundless.]
[This is a topic I dare not delve into with our limited knowledge. I wish to extend an invitation to the clergy listening to our broadcast to join in this discussion!… but I fear our dear ‘loyal listeners’ may just show up. Ha ha! Still, let me assure you of one thing. The boy saved by that man is currently receiving proper care and protection in a refugee camp established by the World Union!]
[‘Oh, faithful believers! Bow down and do good deeds, and you shall prosper,’ echoed the words emphasized by the prophet who preached the teachings of the Earth Goddess. Although we may not know the religion you adhere to, or that our beliefs may differ, may divine blessings be with all those dedicated to the refugees there.]
The old man silently sighed as the news from the radio washed over him. With fingers as dry as twigs, the old herder clasped the rifle and made his way toward the oasis.
At that moment, suddenly the host’s voice shifted.
With an elevated tone, the radio began to broadcast an unexpected story.
[…Next, we bring you some slightly uplifting news. It is reported that seven monster nests in the Shahid Plain have been successfully cleared!
Our frequent guest, the ‘Hero’ and the ‘Alchemist’ have teamed up with the Peacekeeping Forces on the battlefield. A journalist listener has provided us with an unpublished photo…. Wow!
My friend from the tank platoon was deployed for the Shahid Plain clearing operation eight years ago, and judging by the photos, it looks like they got pretty far into the nest gathering! It’s a spectacular sight of them burning the nest against the backdrop of tank wreckage! I can’t wait to see it in tomorrow’s article.
Rumor has it the ‘Saint’ herself was seen in the area! Unfortunately, capturing any photos was impossible. What a shame—if only we could have taken a shot, it would’ve been a sensational scoop!
It’s an honor to bring you this uplifting news first! Journalists must be feeling a bit envious, right? Ha ha! While everyone would rejoice at the news of the nests that threatened the border disappearing, I have even more hopeful news!
Warlords have declared a ceasefire to ensure the safety of pilgrims and worshippers in light of ‘Aramad!’ The government’s official position, however, has yet to be clarified.]
It was a rare piece of good news. However, could it truly be called real peace?
Even though several weeks had passed since the international community agreed to send troops for peace on the Mauritania Continent, true peace still felt far away.
[Yet hope is beginning to show its face.]
The small box carrying the sounds of the world spoke of hope.
[Today may not be better than yesterday, but don’t lose hope! There’s still tomorrow, right? The painful moments will surely pass, and in awaiting, peace will inevitably find its way to us.]
With a powerful voice, the host wrapped up the broadcast. The closing remarks signaling the end of the show flowed through the radio.
[May peace linger with everyone listening to this broadcast. I hope we can meet again in life. This has been the voice that brings hope, Al-Sawt.]
On the breeze, a faint voice could be heard; the boy watching the old man beamed brightly.
The old herder placed a hand gently on the child’s small head. At that moment, as the boy, stick in hand, looked up at the starry sky with a transparent smile, a star he couldn’t name flickered red among the long Milky Way.