Tempest Borne

by Alaina Stanford

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  Ventil's northern border ran along a massive desert. Once a lush green peninsula, home to hundreds of thousands of families before the great disaster devastated the entire region. A firestorm resulted from careless experiments as Ventil rushed to discover a new form of energy. As a result, they were allowed to experiment, unobserved and unregulated. Unfortunately, they didn't realize how very powerful this new discovery truly and a great catastrophe resulted. The once dark fertile soil was evaporated instantly. Now only a barren wasteland stretched beyond the horizon.

  That was nearly a century ago.

  The boy lived only a few miles from the dead region. He had often considered running off into the quiet darkness to find what demons lay in wait for him in that lifeless land. The fat old man told him the dead roam the lifeless planes during the dark cold nights of winter. He claimed they sought the warmth of the ancient fire storm, still hidden beneath the charred soil.

  Of the five children who lived with the old couple, only one had grown close to the boy, Lila. She was several years older than he. The boy was the youngest child so Lila took charge of him. All the children slept in the large empty attic of the wooden farm house. They worked from first light until after dark to keep the animals fed and their stalls clean. Each in turn had suffered the brunt of the old man's temper when a job wasn't done quickly enough or to his satisfaction. The boy never gave the man cause to beat him; his chores were done quickly and efficiently.

  Even so the old man always found a reason to vent his anger on the boy. He would claim he saw defiance in the boy's eyes and beat him regularly. One wind filled winter night, the boy interfered in a beating Lila was receiving for burning the stew that was to be their dinner. It had been only slightly scorched and the boy didn't think it tasted bad. He pulled Lila away from the old man, placing himself between them, protesting. That act of defiance nearly cost him his life.

  After the old man had taken the broom handle to him, the old woman carried him up the steep steps to the attic. He was left to be cared for by Lila.

  Unable to stand their surroundings any longer the two prepared for their escape. It took nearly two weeks for the boy to recover, when he was able to walk without too much pain they decided it was time to go. Donning the one change of clothing they had been allowed. The two determined children moved quietly down the wooden stairs and out into the freezing darkness, heading for the small village a few miles to the south.

  The nights that followed were dark and cold, filled with the howling of the wind as it invaded the small shelter they had found. After finding employment in the village mill, they spent the entire winter running errands and cleaning the mill in the early morning hours before the sunrise. Their bed was a discarded pile of straw and in spite of their best efforts the miller yelled at them constantly. Still they no longer had to suffer the fierce beatings and they were together. When spring arrived they had saved enough money to buy a mattress and considered themselves very well off.

  As the years passed the children spent most of their nights working in the mill. Then one day the Miller decided Lila was old enough to work during the day, carrying sacks of grain to his eldest son for grinding at the stone mill. Despite the separation, the boy was happier than he had ever been in his life. He had Lila, the only person who had ever loved him. The only person he would ever love. He lacked for nothing.

  It wasn’t long before Lila began staying out at night. The Miller's son would ask her to walk with him after their long day of work. The boy felt jealous of the young man's growing affections toward Lila. Then he realized the relationship was to their advantage. If Lila was to marry the Millers son, the two of them would be allowed to move into the miller's spacious home. They now dined on fresh meat and white bread, instead of the servant’s scraps. This could only lead to more happiness.

  Fearing the Miller would disapprove, the couple kept their love hidden for nearly a year. On Lila's eighteenth birthday, the age of eligibility, the youth told his father of their love. The Miller was furious his son had chosen so far beneath him and ordered Lila and the boy from the premises out into the hot summer night. Not willing to allow his father to dictate to him, the youth followed. They walked to a nearby inn where Lila and the Millers son entered to inquire about shelter and employment. After waiting in the darkness for what seemed like hours, the boy rejoiced when the couple appeared from inside the Inn.

  Seeing their smiles, he knew they had come to a decision on how they were to proceed. Lila calmly explained to the boy how they were going to live on the youth's trust fund until she became pregnant. They believed that the miller would not turn his back on them if she were carrying his grandchild. It took several minutes for the boy to understand that their plans didn't include him. Never, had it occurred to him that Lila would leave him behind. At his tearful protests, Lila handed him a few coins and pointed out that he was the same age she had been when they had first run away, without any money at all. She told him he was old enough to fend for himself.

  The boy stared at her in disbelief. What had he done to make her go? She was supposed to stay with him, forever. What would happen to him? Where was he to go? How would he live? He had no home and no work. His bewilderment turned quickly to anger. The brilliant smile Lila flashed as she happily waved good-bye burned a hole in his heart. Why had she stopped loving him? How could she turn her back on him after all this time? Did she ever love him at all? Why couldn’t she just love him? Why did everyone in his life leave him? Why did they hurt him? The old man reminded him of his mother. His beatings were so similar. Just like his mother. No, she was worse. The wounds Lila inflicted were much deeper, more painful. He felt as if they would never go away.

  The pain that Lila had inflicted deep inside him was the worst pain of all, betrayal. She should have beaten him, and then he could have fought back. Then he could have hurt her too, and the Miller's son. He wanted to hurt them both. He could have hurt them if he had wanted to. Maybe he would hurt them after all. He would hurt them until they understood that it was wrong to leave him. Hurt them until they asked him to come with them and begged for his forgiveness.

  Moving slowly, he followed the pair down the dark empty village street. They went into the old abandoned tram station, empty since the war began. It was musty and quiet as the boy entered carefully. Silently he glanced around in the blackness for the deceivers. The memories of betrayal flowed through him, every time his mother had beaten him. The stories she’d told of his father and his bad blood that now flowed through the boy's veins. Memories of the heartless old woman and the vicious old man that he had escaped from pounded his temple. All their angry faces appeared before him. All their angry voices screamed at him.

  He found the young deceivers in a passionate embrace, inside one of the old tram carts, oblivious to his presence. He approached slowly, silently kneeling at their feet. He searched through the youth's bag, finding the small hunting knife he knew the young man kept for protection.

  So quietly he rose before them, so silently he moved into position above them. So slowly he knelt beside them. Taking the young man's hair in one hand the boy jerked his head back and quickly cut a long slice of skin from Miller’s son’s throat. As Lila gasped in shock, he did the same to her, jerking her head back and gliding the blade across the softness of Lila’s skin.

  It was a quiet death. The doctors told the boy his mother died quietly.

  Perhaps that was best.

  Removing his blood stained clothes; the boy donned the Miller’s son’s larger tailored garments from the travel bag. Then returned to the empty street carrying the money the deceivers had planned to live on. Heading north, the boy decided it was time he found out if the barren lands did indeed hold any secrets. If the dead really walked the barren plains, perhaps he could find his mother and show her the fine gentleman he had become.

  Walking until dawn, the boy took no supplies or water in
to the desolate land, expecting the spirits to provide for him. Instead he found only thirst and darkness. The spirits never appeared. After several days in the summer heat the boy fell unconscious across a dry creek bed. He awoke late in the night to the distant sounds of laughter. Mistaking the Mercenaries that fled from the approaching Latrian Army for the spirits he sought, he rose to face them. Stumbling forward, he gasped as the orbs of light appeared.

  “Bastards,” He spat at them, “You wait until I am almost dead before you dare to show yourselves!” The boy shook his fist at the vision, now moving directly toward him. As the glowing orbs surrounded him, he became confused. The spirits were not of anyone he had ever known and his mother was not among them. Fear overtook him as he began to suspect the Miller's son sent them to torture him.

  "I'm not afraid of you!” He screamed as his legs weakened and began to falter.

  The circle of light began to shrink about him. A large muscular red haired man appeared out of the light, smiling suspiciously. "Fear may save your life one day boy, don't be too quick to denounce it." His deep voice bellowed as he approached. Frowning he raised his lantern, stopping before the child. “You’re nearly dead. What deed could bring such a scrawny wretch, so deep into the barrens?''

  Stunned by the appearance of this dark hairy man, the boy realized he was not besieged by the spirits after all.

  “Murder,” He answered, confidently, holding his ground as the man moved closer.

  “Well then, we may not be in for such a boring night as I had thought.” The man answered flashing a brilliant smile, "Tell us your tale boy and we may let you share in our evening meal, if I find it a satisfying story."