700, 12th of Ashan
“Dig.”
Robin struggled against the earth and the cold, his shovel doing little against the former, and his jacket doing less against the latter.
It was his birthday. Or Victor said it was his birthday. Robin hadn’t celebrated the arc before, or the arc before that; there had never been any cakes or parties for him, not that there were any today. His gifts had been an old shovel and a thin brown jacket. Those, and discovering today was his birthday.
He stabbed the ground with the shovel. It cracked and fractured under the dull blade. He pushed deeper into the dirt, pushing against the blade with the heel of his left boot. Victor was watching, as he always did. The old witch, balding and fat, sat on a rotting log. The man was accompanied with the thick, dry smell of tobacco, as he usually was; his cigarettes playing the part of his own familiar.
Robin breathed deeply, using the shovel to dump the dirt into a quickly growing pile to his right. There was a pit in front of him now, not a very big one, but still. He wished Victor had bothered to tell him how large he wanted the hole. At least, Robin hoped, the witch would let him know when he had finished.
…..
“Stop.”
The suns peeked from behind the mountains. The sky colored in the splendor of dawn, and Robin left the shovel stuck in the dirt with a sigh of relief. The mixed blood wasn’t sure how long he’d been digging, but he was tired and hungry and he hoped he’d be allowed to go home and eat.
Victor waddled his way towards the boy and his hole, his breathing heavy and laboured. He examined the pit, and with some effort, bent down to collect the shovel. He used it to measure the hole, it’s width, length, and height, and after some time, he nodded.
“Get in”
.....
He'd panicked, of course. He'd run, or tried to, obviously.
There wasn't much in running from Victor, though. The earth itself had turned against him, rumbling and thrashing, bouncing him into the hole before the ground collapsed over him. Robin had been expecting the initiation, Victor had been teaching him about defiance, about the elements, about the relationship he would soon have to foster, but he hadn't expected it so soon.
Robin pushed at the loose dirt, desperately trying to shovel it to one side or another. Everything was so much warmer, trapped in the earth. "Please," he whispered, pawning inside his own grave, crying. The earth maintained itself, pushing against his body. He was going to die if he couldn't get a response. Please, let me live," he begged, wiping his tears. His breathing calmed, a sudden realization hit him. A relationship. That had been the key in his lessons with Victor, learning to live with a wild part of creation. Not fearing it, but fostering a friendship.
"We could be friends, if I live," Robin promised, the earth softening to his touch. "You and me, we can learn about each other. Help each other," he smiled, the dirt loosening, his hands finding gaps and opening as he pulled himself free.
.....
He found a note when he finally broke free of Earth.
"Congratulations. I'll see you back at home."
