Yea! Finally got it done. Isn't it ironic - I coulda posted this sooner if not for a thunderstorm. Can't work the computer in a storm, ya know? -worries - is this a sign that the gods don't approve?- Well ... do you approve? 'Fire Spirit' should come soon.
~k@zen0~
The Elemental Cycle II: Thunder Spirit
The little boy raced down the street, free as a bird. Some of the villagers saw him, and smiled to themselves. The child's cheerfulness was infectious. Little puffs of dust floated into the air behind the exuberant five-year-old, marking his progress as he ran through the tiny village, leaving an excited call in his wake.
'Storm watch!' The indicated phenomenon was a storm headed towards the village. A few years back, when some scientists studying storm patterns had stopped at the village to research their chosen subject (it was peaceful and quiet here, one of them said), they'd built a small observatory in a tree outside of the village, to watch storms from.
Surprisingly, or maybe not, one of the most ardent storm watchers was the little boy, Lan. So fervent was he in racing to the observatory every time a storm struck that he was fast becoming known more by his nickname than his real name.
Behind him, limping slowly along and leaning heavily on a staff, was a fellow storm watcher, in fact the only other storm watcher in the village, Felix Laikeart. The old man and the young child were frequently seen together; they made interesting opposites. Felix was old, white-haired and pale-skinned; Lan was young, black-haired and dark-skinned. They both shared one thing, and that was boundless enthusiasm on storm watching, only that Lan expressed it in more ... physical ways.
'Charming little imp, that boy,' a woman observed wryly, glancing after the child's rapidly vanishing figure.
'Oh yes,' the other woman agreed, tickling her son. 'Will you be like that too, Ika?' The child giggled helplessly, even as a bank of storm clouds moved into firing position on the north side of the village.
'Looks like it's gonna be a bad one,' the first woman said, playing with the baby.
'Aye, Laina - quite a big one. Our storm watcher's gonna get a good show.'
Laina shuddered. 'Would'na wanna watch that.'
'Aye,' said the mother, catching her child in mid-grab for some candied peanuts at the stall. 'He's strange, a little. Likes storms too much for a child. I don't begrudge old Felix his storm watching - it's most of what he's got left to do.'
The other woman simply smiled.
Up in the observatory, Lan bounced up and down, grinning. 'Granpa! Granpa!' the boy called excitedly. 'Storms a'comin'!' he said, mimicking the old man's wheeze playfully.
Felix laughed and ruffled the boy's hair. 'Now, now,' he admonished. 'Don't mimic people like that - it's rude.'
'Mimic! Mimic! Mimic, ya know?' the boy repeated, copying the 'ya know' from Jakri, the swordsman, and grinning from ear to ear.
Shaking his head, Felix turned to the large window that ran all around the observatory, which was in actuality only a small room-sized construction perched precariously in a tree. It was an extraordinarily sturdy structure, despite the fragile appearance.
The storm was still quite far away, appearing as a dark smudge that covered the horizon. Beside him, Lan danced, excited by the impending storm. Felix smiled and sat down to wait.
Crash!
The thunder shook Felix out of his musings, even as Lan jumped, gave an exuberant yell, and dashed to the window. The whole observatory shook with the force of the winds assaulting it, and Felix had difficulty keeping his balance. There seemed to be a roaring in the distance, but he didn't think anything of it.
Lightning danced along the fringes of the storm crazily, illuminating flashed of moisture-pregnant clouds. Further away, the ground was probably being drenched already.
Felix and Lan watched the storm avidly; both of them jumped simultaneously whenever a crash of thunder shook their shelter. The white-haired old man grinned to himself in excitement. It had been so since the last storm that he'd almost forgotten how much fun this was.
Looking out the window, he happened to look back at the village. And gasped out loud; his protégé, thank the Hyne, mistook it for surprise at a lightning-arc that shot across the sky and disappeared. Felix had barely seen it.
His eyes were fixed on the village, where plumes of smoke were drifting lazily into the sky. People were running about in the streets, here and there without any discernible goal. Not surprising; half-dressed barbarians were chasing them, waving home-forged swords. Even from this distance, he could see the blood on the village streets.
His lips moved soundlessly in a prayer. It was then that Lan seemed to realize that something was amiss.
'Granpa? Granpa!' The boy tugged on his shirt; he barely noticed. All he could think was, oh Hyne, my children, the villagers ...
'Granpa!' Lan finally followed Felix's gaze. His mouth made a soundless 'O' as he stared at his village. His ravaged village.
'Mom!' The boy made a dash for the circular staircase in the center of the room; barely made it a few steps before Felix's hand on his collar tugged him back. 'No! Mom! Save mom!'
'Hush child.' In the faint light, Felix's eyes didn't look quite sane. 'There's nothing you can do for her.'
'Hush,' he said again. Lan looked like he was going to cry. 'Don't cry.'
'Want mom!' came the defiant answer.
'Come - and be quiet. You may see tomorrow yet.' The boy looked confused.
Frightened, Lan trailed the old man down the circular staircase to the base of the tree, where they hid near its huge roots. In the pouring rain, Felix turned to Lan.
'Child, listen. When I say so, I want you to run. Run ... there.' The old man's finger pointed towards the nearby woods, the bushed that would serve well to hide one half-grown child. 'Don't turn back, don't look back, and keep running. Remember the games you used to play there with Jakri?'
Lan nodded. Jakri was a woodsman - he was good at tracking and swordfighting, and had taught Lan how to hide in the woods. The child had surpassed his expectations, the woodsman had confided to Felix before - even Jakri could barely find him in the woods.
'Pretend you're playing the game now. Go there and hide. I know sometimes Jakri couldn't find you. Do that now. Understand?'
Lan nodded again, dark skin flushed with anger and fear.
Felix looked back to the village, where the barbarians were beginning to venture out. 'Go,' he said, giving the lad a little push. At the same time, he limped out into the open, brandishing his staff. 'Come and get me, layabouts!'
He saw Lan dashing towards the woods; the distraction wouldn't last long, but maybe he could draw their attention away so that no one would notice one little boy escaping ...
Fat chance. One of the barbarians pointed towards the fleeing boy, and barked out some unintelligible commands. Some of the people darted after Lan, while the rest came towards Felix.
Who held his staff before him in the pouring rain and grinned fiercely.
Take as many of them with me as I can ...
Lan crouched in a think clump of bushes and listened to the sound of people crashing around behind him. Felix said it was a game, like the ones he'd played with Jakri. He grinned; Jakri never found him in the bushes. It was the best hiding place ever.
He loved the forest. The tracking games had taught him more than just to hide, but also a deep appreciation of nature.
Briefly he wondered where Jakri had gone, and what happened in the village. He guessed that it was a fire - there had been smoke all over. Mother - are you okay? He had no way of knowing.
It seemed like a long time before they quit crashing around. Then he slipped out and back in the direction of the village.
He didn't see anything wrong. The storm had since turned to a drizzle, and he could see everything clearly. The smoke was gone, and Felix was nowhere to be seen, except for his staff near the observatory.
Walking over, he picked up the heavy staff. It was stained vaguely reddish at the tip, but the boy didn't think that was unusual. With the sublime confidence of a five-year-old, he walked towards the village, expecting to be congratulated by Jakri or Felix.
Lan stopped stock-still, staring, eyes wide. There were people everywhere - dead people, sprawled on the ground in pools of blood, some with weapons or common tools nearby, probably used in a last-ditch attempt to defend themselves. He saw Jakri, sprawled near the village fence with twin swords in his hands and one in his chest. And Felix - flat out on the ground, dead.
Turning, the boy retched, and ran, clutching Felix's staff to him. He ran all the way back to the observatory and up, crawling to a mattress in a corner and curling up, shaking.
All he could see was Felix, face-up, flies perching in the empty sockets where his eyes had once been.
'What is it, Donia?'
'A child - a little boy.'
A surprisingly cold hand was laid on his forehead. He shivered, sneezing.
'Fever.'
'Get him down. Is he awake?'
'Little boy? Are you awake? Can you speak?' The female voice, directed to him this time, gently.
He opened his eyes a bit, and managed to croak, 'Who ...'
'He's awake.' Equal measure of relief and pity - 'Come on ...' He half-stumbled, and was half-lifted to the staircase; carried down and outside.
Birdsong drifted in the air, which smelled fresh and clean, like it always was after a big storm. His bleary eyes managed to make out the form of a man in front of him.
'Child?' the man asked quietly. 'What's your name?'
Lan stared at the horizon. He was entering a new phase of life - he would need a different name. 'Lan' didn't somehow seem appropriate anymore. He did have another name, though. His nickname, because of his storm watching. It would serve.
The little boy looked back at the man.
' ... Raijin.'