“Froud!” the king shouted, surrounded by joy and tears. “My little Froud is born,” he continued. “He will have the honour of carrying a name that is given every hundred years.” The whole kingdom had been waiting for the birth of this baby. They had placed their hopes and expectations on him. He was the one and only thing that could give the citizens a spark of happiness during the epidemic that had been ongoing for exactly five years.
A sickly virus had been silently seizing people, much like a fox breaking into a coop. Without notice, it would flow through every vein, freezing and clogging them very slowly. Death, however, was rapid. It would start from the toes, creeping upward to the head, freezing everything in its path. The nerves couldn’t resist it. People lost their ability to feel anything—first their emotions, and within a week, their senses. By the end of the second week, there would be no evidence of life in them.
The queen had held onto hope, determined to give her husband salvation, saving him from the deep, drowning ocean of helplessness. She believed in herself—that she could at least give him something to be excited about while he had been losing himself trying to find a cure for the awful disease that had been uncontrollable for years. She succeeded. The king had never been so hopeful or willing since the day he learned about the baby. He didn’t know why he thought a baby could save the whole kingdom, nor did the community. They all had this inexplicable feeling that he was somehow a hero—a saviour.
Nothing had actually changed in the five minutes after the nurse placed the baby in the king’s arms. There was only applause from the staff. The king couldn’t overcome the joy that the baby’s ice-blue eyes brought to him. The baby was simply perfect. Every inch of him possessed a beauty that captivated onlookers. The king examined his child with admiration. While caressing his golden hair, he noticed something different from five minutes ago: the roots of his hair had whitened.
He couldn’t believe it. He blinked so many times that his eyes started to hurt. He went to his wife and asked, “Am I going crazy, or has this baby’s hair suddenly turned whiter than yellow? I am very sure I just caressed his blond hair a few minutes ago.”
The queen held the baby from the king and carefully examined his hair. The king was certainly right. Somehow, she had given birth to a baby with colour-changing hair.
The queen didn’t want to give him back. She had carried him for nine long months and wanted time to examine him. She hugged him with all her love, not wanting to stop. She hugged him tighter and tighter, feeling a warmth in her heart. But this warmth didn’t last long. A freezing sensation surged between her arms. It came from the baby. She rapidly stopped hugging him and checked his body temperature. He was colder than any winter.
The king recognized the fear in the queen’s eyes and understood something was wrong. He rushed over, placing his hand on the baby’s cheek. His expression fell, but his voice boomed as he shouted, “Bring some blankets, hot water—anything to warm him. Now!”
The staff rushed out the door, returning with a bowl of hot water and many blankets. They placed the baby in the bowl, waiting for him to warm up. The process was agonizingly slow. They waited for hours, heating the water hotter with every passing hour. The king refused to believe his child had caught the disease right after birth. It was totally impossible.
“He is getting warmer!” celebrated one of the staff. Finally, after five full hours, the baby’s temperature began returning to normal. His hair gradually lost its whiteness, reverting to its natural blond. They didn’t know what had caused the sudden change, but there was no time to dwell on it. The priority was clear: they had saved the one and only heir to the throne. They could still cling to the unknown hope burning inside their hearts.
“People are healing!” a staff member burst through the gates. “I’m not joking. Everyone suffering from the disease has healed!” he continued breathlessly.
All eyes widened in disbelief, carefully listening and trying to grasp the truth of what the young man had said. It must have been magic or some miracle. How could everyone suddenly regain their health? Was the baby responsible for this? But how?
These questions didn’t matter much. The king had just experienced the greatest revelation of his life. The enormous burden that had weighed on him was now gone. The queen was proud of herself. She had given birth to a rescuer—a child with the power to heal people, not only physically but also emotionally.