Prompt #58: Silence, "The Language of Grief" by Lunatique

[ljlee]

Title: The Language of Grief
Author: Lunatique
Rating: K+Words: 484

Genre: Gen
Char: OC (Xing)
Note: Follows from Prompt #57 entr Defying Definition.
Summary: The silence catches up to him.

Subject's vital signs are normal. Excursion to an outdoor area in direct contact with earth has little effect on him thus far; the psychological distress other subjects have reported has yet to manifest in him, leading to a hypothesis that this aspect of elemental telekinesis removal is subjective in nature. Subject is

Xing yawned and put his notebook down. He stretched out on the grass, slitting his eyes against the sunlight that spilled onto him from the swaying branches above. A nearby stream chattered in his ear. Doctor Nguyen's suggestion that he spend a day outside the city had been a good one, if for "subject's" selfish reasons rather than the cause of science.

It was quiet. Before he lost his bending, Xing had no idea the outdoors could be so quiet. He never had the kind of earthsense legendary earthbenders like Chief Bei Fong possessed, but even for him the voice of the earth had been a constant murmur, like a talkative acquaintance he could never quite tune out.

He sat up and then stood, his feet bare in the old way of the earthbenders. Doctor Nguyen thought direct contact with the earth in a natural setting might trigger something. In Xing it mostly triggered the fear of something sharp in the ground. Were earthbenders in the old days immune to blood poisoning?

They had their bending to tell them when there was danger underfoot.

He shook the thought off and went down to the stream bank where the soil became mud that slid between his toes. He rolled up his breeches and waded in, feeling the tickle and pull of the water around his calves. A breeze wandered by while the sunlight soaked into his head.

Quiet. It was so quiet.

Why do you think non-benders dominate science and technology? Maybe it was because they had no way to speak to the world except through their intellect. Their advances brought the world so many gains, but what might they lose when the world was a collection of things and not a part of one's soul?

He spotted pebbles at the water's edge and stretched a hand out, remembering how it had felt to send water-smoothed stones flying through the air while Lia clapped and laughed. He remembered knowing their weight and texture without touching, because they were of him and he of them.

The pebbles did not so much as wobble. Of course. He had made that choice, a rational choice for so many reasons, and yet-

A sob burst out of him, and then another. He tried to keep himself quiet until he remembered there was no one to hear. He staggered to the edge of the water and sank down, clutching at the pebbles that would no longer respond to his spirit, and allowed the voice of his loss to break the silence of the world.