107 Ashan, 724
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Lightning crackled near and thunder spooked with even closer vicinity. It frightened the creature they rode and forced them to experience bucking, something Kotton had learnt from his acquaintance/aunt/family friend. But that could be looked at during a time that wasn’t considered potentially life threatening.
The rain pelted their backs and crashed against their skulls as they plodded through the space that positioned itself between them and safety. They tried with all their might to outwit the brutal weather. Suddenly a building rose from out of nowhere, announcing itself against the horizon that had recently been declared unsafe due to the shrouds of fog. The building seemed to be an abandoned mill, physically decrepit but still somehow standing even if it was crumbling under its weight. It gave Kotton much hesitation as to whether or not to trust its integrity. He passed back and forth the urgency of his predicament like a game ball thrown between children until he inevitably conceded with his gut instinct and approached it. There was nowhere else to go for shelter.
He had pushed through the curtains of downpour and acknowledged the intensity of the storm he was made to withstand, but he was still in shock, not sure how to register such an experience. Did that really just happen? Weather, he had determined, was a philosophical and psychological reference to a deluge of feelings. Just like someone cried, clouds cried. Just like someone became heated with anger and rage, clouds, too, darkened and thundered with the very same. Just as someone became overwhelmed and wanted everything to disappear in the blink of an eye, lightning struck with the wish of destroying everything in its path. Kotton didn’t know who the immortal responsible for the weather was, but he was more than willing to have a conversation with them.
In the time being, he was to trust that what he was doing, technique and all, was the right thing to do. As the weather continued to thicken in density, droplets of water irresolutely growing in size, there seemed to be no safe passage that didn’t guarantee their susceptibility to the present tyranny. Kotton still decided to stop the horse by applying pressure on both sides of her side. He also raised the halter so that it gave tension to the horse’s muzzle.
“Woah,” he interjected. “Easy thewe.” He practically needed to shout these words in order to be heard above the crashing waves of rain and barking claps of thunder. Finally the creature stopped moving, allowing her master to jump off her back and help the young Twig down so that he stood beside him.
Kotton’s hair, so mixed with colour and hue, equally represented his race. It was glued to his face as if a child had just performed art against him. He glanced towards Twig and found his appearance to be just as dreadful as his. In fact, he almost laughed out loud, but managed to stifle his humour by coughing.
“Come here!” she commanded, leading the way through the weeds and toward a door that led inside the mill. The hinge was broken, the wooden door hanging on by a sliver of a thread. She threw her weight at it, hoping to break it down.
She was defeated the first time, but tried again, using the wind to her advantage. She hoisted herself up and jumped into the door, finally being able to splinter the wood in half as the door came crashing to the ground.
She told the little girl to go inside, that she would be in in a little bit. She had to find a place to tie her horse. It needed to be somewhere safe, but given the circumstances she wasn’t allowed many options.
She took the rope that hung around the horse and guided her around the mill, searching for somewhere to keep her safe until the storm had passed.
It was growing in strength, doubling its powerful blows of wind and strike of thunder. The lightning was crawling closer, threatening to stab something or someone with its electricity. Lenz gulped at the thought, but kept her head as she continued to examine her surroundings for a decent setting for Ametrine.
Finally her line of sight hovered over a little shack of sorts. It looked like it would have been a storage building for harvested crops or tools for the workers at the mill. She trekked through the storm, holding onto the rope with all her might until she emerged.
“You’ll stay here for a while,” she whispered to the horse, stroking her muzzle before tying her to a rotting post.
“I will be back,” she reassured before turning on her heel and exiting the shack.
She was pummeled by the tempest once more, but she sprinted through it, using her feet to maintain her bearings. She thrust her arms forward, trying her best to propel herself and fight the wind. She succeeded in the end, managing to relocate the mill’s entrance. She fell through the open door, almost knocking into the child in the process.
“I have returned,” she announced with a small chuckle. A giggle was earned for her attempts at brightening the somber mood that had been forced upon them, shrouding them in fright and confusion.
“What now?” asked Ipisol.
Lenz shrugged. She frankly didn’t know what there was to do next. They would have to wait out the storm unless they wanted to harm their chances of being protected. She didn’t want that, so she shook her head before her imagination was ignited like a flame.
“Why don’t we wait out this storm by telling one another stories?”
Ipisol squealed in approval of the grand idea.
“I’ll start first…”
At first, Lenz was pondering the thought of acting out the story she had tried so hard to write this morning, but she ended up deciding against it. She did better when she simply explained the story from out of her mouth rather than attempting to write it down on paper.
So she began with a rather quiet voice, adding suspense to the mysterious introduction she was willing to present.
“Once upon a time there lived a man who wasn’t very wealthy and not very smart, but he was thought to be loyal and responsible, respectful of all those he encountered. One day he was out playing in the field behind his parents’ cottage when he stumbled upon a rotting log. He stopped to investigate, wandering farther from his house each moment. Finally, he managed to see a glowing dot on the log. He bent down to get a closer look when he saw a small bucket of a golden mizas. He shouted in jubilation, ecstatic because of what he had found. However, when the boy leant down to grab the bucket, his hand was swatted away by an even smaller hand.”
Ipisol kept her gaze locked warmly onto her guardian’s orbs. They were stunning, an icy blue, but they held intrigue without bounds. It was an infinite amount of focus, her interest portraying in molten bubbles in her eyes, dancing like the embers of a fire.
“Keep going,” Ipisol urged in a mere whisper as she leant forwards on her knees.
Lenz smiled before continuing, “The small hand that slapped the boy’s hand away belonged to a small creature. He had a human face and a humanoid body, but he was shrunken and his eyes were a blazing golden, resembling much like the golden mizas he had stolen.
‘These be mine,’ he said to the boy whilst dragging the bucket closer to him.
‘I saw them first,’ countered the boy.
Suddenly the small man came up with an idea. He buckled over and whispered a favour to the boy. If he would look over his pot of gold, he would receive many more pots of gold as penance for his help. The boy accepted willingly before returning home for the night, the pot of gold safely kept under his arm.”
“Do you wish for me to go on?” asked Lenz rhetorically, staring with glassy eyes into the child’s young face.
“Of course!” she retaliated, oblivious to the stupidity of the question.
Lenz sighed before continuing.
“The next morning, the boy was to return back to the log to return the gold and accept his money, but instead, he went to his parents and showed them what he had found. His parents were so happy! He took the money and bought many things with it. Some of those things included a new shirt, a new hat, some ink sticks. But there was so much money, you see, so they ended up spending the rest of it on a new house, a bigger one with a large yard and a flowerbed and two floors!”
“Woah!” Ipisol gasped, her mouth agape.
“Suddenly, back where the small man was waiting, some of his limbs were beginning to fade away. He was disappearing and all because he had trusted his gold to be in the wrong hands. He thought the boy could be trusted, but apparently not. With his body slowly starting to vanish, he began to worry. He went out to try and find the boy only to stumble into his abandoned house.
‘They have moved?’ he asked himself before being startled by his head starting to disappear as well. Soon, the boy burst through the room, crying and desiring forgiveness. He saw the small man and only sobbed stronger. He did not have the entireity of the money any longer, but he kept one last golden miza. He forked this golden miza over to the shrunken man and hoped his deed would stop the process of his disappearance.
Do you know what happened?”
“What?” Ipisol asked, her eyes nearly close to bulging out of her sockets.
“He stopped fading away! The boy had done the right thing and was heavily rewarded for his kindness. And in the end everyone lived happily ever after.”
Lenz sat back and watched the girls’ face turn from emotion to emotion. It was surprised, confused, elated and then sad that there was no more story to tell. Another thing that Lenz observed was that the sound of rain hitting the top of the building had ceased.
“Do you hear that?” she asked. “I think the storm settled. We can go home.”
With that, Lenz helped the child sit up and the two walked out the door and strolled behind the building to see Ametrine safely alive, if not a little happy to see her owners.
“Ready to take us home?” Lenz asked before hopping onto the horse after assisting Ipisol first. The woman nudged the horses side before bringing the halter into her hands. She forced the horse to start turning away from the building as she began to trot.
Lenz rode into the sunset, admiring the sun’s dying rays caressing across her skin. She felt free as she tasted the gale that licked at her lips. She pulled at the reins and slowed the horse down as soon as they had neared the Tent City. Once the horse had slowed down a little, Lenz jumped off to stare into the horizon with solitude.
Everything was wonderful, that was until she heard the news of the death of her employer. But that was for another time. As for right now, she was content and relieved.
The rain pelted their backs and crashed against their skulls as they plodded through the space that positioned itself between them and safety. They tried with all their might to outwit the brutal weather. Suddenly a building rose from out of nowhere, announcing itself against the horizon that had recently been declared unsafe due to the shrouds of fog. The building seemed to be an abandoned mill, physically decrepit but still somehow standing even if it was crumbling under its weight. It gave Kotton much hesitation as to whether or not to trust its integrity. He passed back and forth the urgency of his predicament like a game ball thrown between children until he inevitably conceded with his gut instinct and approached it. There was nowhere else to go for shelter.
He had pushed through the curtains of downpour and acknowledged the intensity of the storm he was made to withstand, but he was still in shock, not sure how to register such an experience. Did that really just happen? Weather, he had determined, was a philosophical and psychological reference to a deluge of feelings. Just like someone cried, clouds cried. Just like someone became heated with anger and rage, clouds, too, darkened and thundered with the very same. Just as someone became overwhelmed and wanted everything to disappear in the blink of an eye, lightning struck with the wish of destroying everything in its path. Kotton didn’t know who the immortal responsible for the weather was, but he was more than willing to have a conversation with them.
In the time being, he was to trust that what he was doing, technique and all, was the right thing to do. As the weather continued to thicken in density, droplets of water irresolutely growing in size, there seemed to be no safe passage that didn’t guarantee their susceptibility to the present tyranny. Kotton still decided to stop the horse by applying pressure on both sides of her side. He also raised the halter so that it gave tension to the horse’s muzzle.
“Woah,” he interjected. “Easy thewe.” He practically needed to shout these words in order to be heard above the crashing waves of rain and barking claps of thunder. Finally the creature stopped moving, allowing her master to jump off her back and help the young Twig down so that he stood beside him.
Kotton’s hair, so mixed with colour and hue, equally represented his race. It was glued to his face as if a child had just performed art against him. He glanced towards Twig and found his appearance to be just as dreadful as his. In fact, he almost laughed out loud, but managed to stifle his humour by coughing.
“Come here!” she commanded, leading the way through the weeds and toward a door that led inside the mill. The hinge was broken, the wooden door hanging on by a sliver of a thread. She threw her weight at it, hoping to break it down.
She was defeated the first time, but tried again, using the wind to her advantage. She hoisted herself up and jumped into the door, finally being able to splinter the wood in half as the door came crashing to the ground.
She told the little girl to go inside, that she would be in in a little bit. She had to find a place to tie her horse. It needed to be somewhere safe, but given the circumstances she wasn’t allowed many options.
She took the rope that hung around the horse and guided her around the mill, searching for somewhere to keep her safe until the storm had passed.
It was growing in strength, doubling its powerful blows of wind and strike of thunder. The lightning was crawling closer, threatening to stab something or someone with its electricity. Lenz gulped at the thought, but kept her head as she continued to examine her surroundings for a decent setting for Ametrine.
Finally her line of sight hovered over a little shack of sorts. It looked like it would have been a storage building for harvested crops or tools for the workers at the mill. She trekked through the storm, holding onto the rope with all her might until she emerged.
“You’ll stay here for a while,” she whispered to the horse, stroking her muzzle before tying her to a rotting post.
“I will be back,” she reassured before turning on her heel and exiting the shack.
She was pummeled by the tempest once more, but she sprinted through it, using her feet to maintain her bearings. She thrust her arms forward, trying her best to propel herself and fight the wind. She succeeded in the end, managing to relocate the mill’s entrance. She fell through the open door, almost knocking into the child in the process.
“I have returned,” she announced with a small chuckle. A giggle was earned for her attempts at brightening the somber mood that had been forced upon them, shrouding them in fright and confusion.
“What now?” asked Ipisol.
Lenz shrugged. She frankly didn’t know what there was to do next. They would have to wait out the storm unless they wanted to harm their chances of being protected. She didn’t want that, so she shook her head before her imagination was ignited like a flame.
“Why don’t we wait out this storm by telling one another stories?”
Ipisol squealed in approval of the grand idea.
“I’ll start first…”
At first, Lenz was pondering the thought of acting out the story she had tried so hard to write this morning, but she ended up deciding against it. She did better when she simply explained the story from out of her mouth rather than attempting to write it down on paper.
So she began with a rather quiet voice, adding suspense to the mysterious introduction she was willing to present.
“Once upon a time there lived a man who wasn’t very wealthy and not very smart, but he was thought to be loyal and responsible, respectful of all those he encountered. One day he was out playing in the field behind his parents’ cottage when he stumbled upon a rotting log. He stopped to investigate, wandering farther from his house each moment. Finally, he managed to see a glowing dot on the log. He bent down to get a closer look when he saw a small bucket of a golden mizas. He shouted in jubilation, ecstatic because of what he had found. However, when the boy leant down to grab the bucket, his hand was swatted away by an even smaller hand.”
Ipisol kept her gaze locked warmly onto her guardian’s orbs. They were stunning, an icy blue, but they held intrigue without bounds. It was an infinite amount of focus, her interest portraying in molten bubbles in her eyes, dancing like the embers of a fire.
“Keep going,” Ipisol urged in a mere whisper as she leant forwards on her knees.
Lenz smiled before continuing, “The small hand that slapped the boy’s hand away belonged to a small creature. He had a human face and a humanoid body, but he was shrunken and his eyes were a blazing golden, resembling much like the golden mizas he had stolen.
‘These be mine,’ he said to the boy whilst dragging the bucket closer to him.
‘I saw them first,’ countered the boy.
Suddenly the small man came up with an idea. He buckled over and whispered a favour to the boy. If he would look over his pot of gold, he would receive many more pots of gold as penance for his help. The boy accepted willingly before returning home for the night, the pot of gold safely kept under his arm.”
“Do you wish for me to go on?” asked Lenz rhetorically, staring with glassy eyes into the child’s young face.
“Of course!” she retaliated, oblivious to the stupidity of the question.
Lenz sighed before continuing.
“The next morning, the boy was to return back to the log to return the gold and accept his money, but instead, he went to his parents and showed them what he had found. His parents were so happy! He took the money and bought many things with it. Some of those things included a new shirt, a new hat, some ink sticks. But there was so much money, you see, so they ended up spending the rest of it on a new house, a bigger one with a large yard and a flowerbed and two floors!”
“Woah!” Ipisol gasped, her mouth agape.
“Suddenly, back where the small man was waiting, some of his limbs were beginning to fade away. He was disappearing and all because he had trusted his gold to be in the wrong hands. He thought the boy could be trusted, but apparently not. With his body slowly starting to vanish, he began to worry. He went out to try and find the boy only to stumble into his abandoned house.
‘They have moved?’ he asked himself before being startled by his head starting to disappear as well. Soon, the boy burst through the room, crying and desiring forgiveness. He saw the small man and only sobbed stronger. He did not have the entireity of the money any longer, but he kept one last golden miza. He forked this golden miza over to the shrunken man and hoped his deed would stop the process of his disappearance.
Do you know what happened?”
“What?” Ipisol asked, her eyes nearly close to bulging out of her sockets.
“He stopped fading away! The boy had done the right thing and was heavily rewarded for his kindness. And in the end everyone lived happily ever after.”
Lenz sat back and watched the girls’ face turn from emotion to emotion. It was surprised, confused, elated and then sad that there was no more story to tell. Another thing that Lenz observed was that the sound of rain hitting the top of the building had ceased.
“Do you hear that?” she asked. “I think the storm settled. We can go home.”
With that, Lenz helped the child sit up and the two walked out the door and strolled behind the building to see Ametrine safely alive, if not a little happy to see her owners.
“Ready to take us home?” Lenz asked before hopping onto the horse after assisting Ipisol first. The woman nudged the horses side before bringing the halter into her hands. She forced the horse to start turning away from the building as she began to trot.
Lenz rode into the sunset, admiring the sun’s dying rays caressing across her skin. She felt free as she tasted the gale that licked at her lips. She pulled at the reins and slowed the horse down as soon as they had neared the Tent City. Once the horse had slowed down a little, Lenz jumped off to stare into the horizon with solitude.
Everything was wonderful, that was until she heard the news of the death of her employer. But that was for another time. As for right now, she was content and relieved.