(no subject)
Rite of passage to go into a mysterious dead zone in the middle of a desert, at the end of a fertile valley leading up the hill, and bring back a fragment of its interior. Some make it back, others don't. Some others simply refuse to go. This is a story of one of those who refuses to go. ... And ends up having to go. On the most dangerous of all nights, All Hallow's Eve.
"Warrior Meneander! Embark on your quest with the faith and power of your clan behind you. To Meneander!"
"To Meneander!" the crowd roared.
The warrior about to go on his rite of passage was surrounded by family, friends, and other clanmates, wishing him well on his coming rite. No one mentioned the danger inherent in the task ahead. No one mentioned those who have never returned.
It was a time of celebration, for now.
Meneander laughed as he walked among his comrades. They patted him on the back and hooted, getting drunk over the steady supply of heady wine available.
Meneander was full of life, bronzed, strong, and courageously ready for his battle. He spotted his brother and stopped before him with a smile. He pretended not to notice the apprehension in the smaller male's gaze.
"Enjoying, brother?"
Jam seemed to think about his words, obviously unwilling to rain on the parade. He looked up at him with a somber gaze.
"... I wish you well, Ander."
The elder's smile gentled, and he steadfastly ignored the severity of the situation he was thrust in.
"Thank you for your concern. Don't worry." He winked. "I'll be fine."
Jam gazed up at him.
"Be careful."
"I'll be back home soon. You'll see," Ander reassured with a smile, ruffling his hair.
The party lasted for several more hours, and the noise took a while to die down.
It was only when the partygoers were forced to start acknowledging the severity of the situation that they truly went to bed.
Jams went to bed with worry weighing heavy on his heart.
Ander never came back.
Jam awoke from a peaceful dream, and was immediately greeted by an unwelcome sight--his father's face on a beautiful sunny morning.
Jam's face set into a scowl, and he rolled over out of bed, completely ignoring the man in his room as he got dressed.
Jam left his room as quickly s possible, the day already looking stormy. His father followed, uncharacteristically still saying nothing.
It was only until they got down the stairs, Jam rushing as they neared the relative safety of the kitchen, that his father spoke.
"Son."
"I don't want to hear it, Dad." Jam practically ran the last few steps and slammed open the swinging door the kitchen.
His mother looked up as he entered with a slight smile, but admonishment in her gaze. She was about to speak when she saw the cause of his aggravation in the form of his father stalking in after him. She wisely kept her mouth and decided to let the boys duke it out.
"You have to go on your rite of passage."
Jam turned around. "Dad-"
"I know you're upset bout your brother," the chief replied quietly. The others in the room sombered. "We all are." The chief's mouth firmed and he straightened, the sorry inside hidden by the strengthening of his broad shoulders. "You will not become a man without this rite of passage."
Jam's eyes flashed. "So what! So I'll remain a boy, the boy who didn't grow up!"
Jam's father stiffened in anger, and Jam almost thought he began to growl.
"Silence!" his mother thundered, shocking them both a little. They turned to her slightly, unnerved. She stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at both of them. "Enough, both of you," she said, with a meaningful glance at her husband. "You will sit down, and we will have breakfast. This will not continue until after breakfast. You will not have this argument in my kitchen." She glared at them, pursing her lips as they remained silently in awe of her. "Am I understood?" she thundered.
"Yes/ma'am."
"Good." His mother smiled sweetly, her good humor already being restored--she was, after al, very forgiving. "Now sit down and eat."
They obeyed her without question, but his father started to mutter as he took his seat. His mother swept around the table, looping her arms around his shoulders as she pressed a kiss to his mouth.
"Silence, my darling," she murmured.
Miraculously, his father obeyed.
Jams knew he was disappointing his father, and his mother a little to some degree, though she was more practical.
The villagers, his clansmen, treated him as much of a chickenshit as the others who refused to go. They seemed to reward the decision with a label of cowardice. No matter how very real the risk and endangerment of life was, they still expected young men to go on this rite of passage. You'd think, if they wanted more of their men to survive into 'manhood,' they'd find some other rite of passage. One that didn't threaten the lives of the vey bravest.
And they lost his brother, Jam thought bitterly.
There was no way he was going to risk his life by going.
His father could think of him as a failure if he wanted. But he had more of a head on his shoulders than to go through with it.
"James."
His brother appeared on a moss-ridden rock, slipper and wet with the water surrounding him.
"James," Ander insisted more urgently. His eyes were tinged with wildness, and lost hopelessness was settled fully on his face. Gone ws the light that always seemed to emanate from his brother, the light that permeated every space he entered.
Who was he, this couldn't be his brother.
Ander leaned forward from where he was crouched, seeming chained to the rock. He tried to reach for his younger brother, but his balance was precarious on the slippery rock, and he had to use his hands to balance himself.
He wasn't falling into that water again.
"James," he said gain, more urgently.
Jam couldn't help but stare and gape in astonishment.
"I'm alive." He winced a little as he shifted on his injured foot, and gave a little twisted smile (in pain and despair, that is). "Come get me."
Jam was jolted into that semi-awake state between sleep and waking. His dream was still vivid in his mind, but his rational, wakeful side was tyring to push through and erase the dream to nothing but a vague memory.
His brother was communicting to him in his sleep.
"I'm alive. Come save me."
Jam gasped awake. ... He had to go, now.
A shudder ran through him.
His parents were proud as the nearest clan members gathered around him, his father fastening his trappings onto him.
Jam had told no one but his mother he thought his brother was still alive. His mother didn't want him to go, and risk losing another son, but she was proud of his decision. But he knew she had told his father as well. He didn't want to believe it (was true), but there was hope in the eagerness of his fingers
"Young Jamesen," the chief magistrate announced in his powerful, somber voice. The other voices hushed to nothing but a near whisper as he spoke, dying altogether as he spoke more. "We applaud you for your bravery. May you find peace, wealth, and success. Return safely, Jamesen, with the ful bcking of your clan behind you (for support). To Jamesen!"
The voices rose up in a single, deafening shout.
"To Jamesen!"
Jams stood at the edge of the valley, the fertile land behind him, waiting to step foot over the boundary line, staring into the desolation awaiting him. Despite the overwhelming heat, and the hint of deep water somewhere underground adding a cloying, humidifying effect, Jams felt like he could not get warm. A chill was settled inside him, raising goosebumps on his skin. He really didn't want to go in.
But then he remembered his brother, reaching toward him.
"I'm alive, James."
And that settled it. He took a step, the step, over the visible boundary into the desolate desert waiting beyond.
He would get through this, and he would bring back the light to his brother's eyes so clouded in darkness.
Come night time, though, he wasn't so sure.
The darkness was closing in rapidly around him.
There was nary a light around to see by, but the sky in places still held a strange lavender light.
There was a sense of evil closing in.
Jam stilled to a halt, hesitated as the night closed in around him. It was too dark to go anywhere. He was too far in now to rest in the safety of the fertile valley beyond; he'd left that safety net hours ago.
He didn't have anywhere to spend the night.
And still that felt-like-evil was closing in on him, sensing his dilemna. A sense of cackling filled the air, and Jam shivered, hands clapping to his upper arms as he rubbed himself, trying to warm.
Then, there was a noise behind him.
Jam's blood ran cold. He turned, slowly, so slowly, and wanted to run out of his mind as a second hand pulled out of the ground to join the forearm already pulling itself up, ghoulish grey in appearance. Jam's mind went a curious sort of blank, and he watched as more hands started pulling from the ground, but as he watched, his instincts kicked in, and he turned and rain, panic taking full-throttle.
Jam ran until he was near out of breath, the ghouls--or ghoul-like creatures--behind him not sounding winded at all. He didn't dare look back.
A dark figure appeared several yards in front of him. He prayed, to whatever of his people's gods may be listening--as something told him many of his people had done before--that this figure could be trusted, and ran toward him.
"Please-help me-" Jam gasped, resting hands on trembling thighs as he hunched over, panting to get his breath. He gazed up at the figure.
A flash of light seemed to illuminate him.
His pale hair shown white, and his blue eyes glowed red in the right light. An amused, dangerous smirk was on his face.
"Well, look who's lost their way..."
Jams gulped.
The strange figure spoke words in a lost, forgotten lnguage, and the ghouls slowly shrunk away. Then he turned that unnerving attention on Jam.
Jam couldn't run anymore. He'd lost all energy. And--so help him--he fainted.
"Welcome to All Hallow's Eve."
Jams awoke, and there was a gentle light filling the cavernous room he was in. Jams stared at the rock ceiling above him, lost and trying to get his bearings.
There was a rustle to his left, and the unmistakeable clinking of a meal on a tray. A little more light spilled into the softly glowing room as the door was pushed open further.
Jam turned his head on his pillow to get a better look at the newcomer, and gasped upright as he recognized the figure.
Sharp blue eyes flashed red as he looked up sharpy, the figure from before now fully illuminated.
The two strangers stared at each other. One was challenging, the other fearful. Both were wary.
The stranger from last night smirked as he straightened, bumping open the door the rest of the way with his hip.
"Well, well, sleeping beauty. I see you're awake."
Jam thought back frantically onto last night as the stranger continued further into the room. Jam gasped, wide eyes fixing on the other figure even as an embarassed flush touched his high cheekbones.
"Demon!" he gasped.
The figure stilled, eyes flashing as he pulled himself up in affront.
"I am not a demon. I am a god," he replied, insulted.
Jam stared at him blankly for a moment. Then he looked to stone ceiling, his confused mind refusing to make sense of it.
"A god is serving me breakfast in bed...?" he mused aloud, muttering, a finger tapped to his chin.
The figure's eyes flashed red. But he smirked and stepped further, coming closer while the other seemed distracted.
"And what were you doing outside in the middle of the night?" he murmured next to the boy's ear, setting the tray down on the bedside table.
Jam gasped and lurched to the side, slapping a hand over his ear as he turned to look wide-eyed at the stranger. He continued to inch away.
The stranger was watching him with a smirk.
"... What?" he asked blankly, realizing there was a question he'd never answered.
The stranger's eyes glittered a little.
"What are you doing here?" he asked straightforwardly.
Jam thought quickly. How much could he tell this figure...? He couldn't really trust him or say anything, but if he didn't...
Jam scooted over so he was facing the demon-god and bowed down, touching his hands to the bed.
"Please, I'm looking for my brother..." The other responded with silence. Jam couldn't see his expression from where he was. He looked up. "Please-- ... Let me go."
"... I'll take you to your brother."
Jam stared at him. (He started to turn away.)
"Eat your breakfast."
Jam stared into the darkness, clutching at the stranger's arm as he walked slightly behind him. The dim light offered no hint as to what lay beyond in the tunnel they seemed to be walking through.
His host led him into a larger cavern, a little more well-lit at least on ground level. The top disappared into darkness, no clue as to how far it reached up. The stranger turned from him a little as he stopped, pulling him gentle.
Jam noticed the figure in the middle of the room, curled tiredly, tightly to fit his long frame, on a smaller rock in the middle of a pool of water.
"Brother...!"
Jam rushed forward, letting his host go. His brother had stirred sightly at the exclamation. But Jam's host stopped him as he neared the water.
Jam looked back, eyes flashing. The stranger held a finger up this lips, and knelt down beside him, touching the water, a slight glow dispersing into the water around his fingers. He didn't flinch at the slimey, icy cold as his hand stayed submerged. Jam vaguely remembered a warning about the water from his dream.
The host looked up at him and nodded, and without another word, Jam took off crashing into the water, not paying attention to the cold that soaked him to the chest as he thrashed his way to his brother.
"Ander!"
The figure finally stirred again, lifting its head up.
"James...?" the desperate figure croaked.
"Ander!" Jam sobbed, clamoring up onto the rock and gthering his brother's cold body into him.
"James..." Ander whispered, somewhere between a choke and a sigh. Weary arms came up to clutch at his brother's solid back. "James... you're here..."
It took them a long while to settle down, both clutching onto the other and once in a while whispering the other's name.
Ander finally calmed down enough to pull back, though he still held tightly onto his brother's upper arms.
"How did you get here so quickly?" 'Alive' was added at the end with a touch of guilt.
He...
"I... met the right guy."
... met the right guy.
That was indeed it, wasn't it.
When he turned to look, the stranger was gone. But he felt him with a touch of the mind.
The stranger had returned once he'd felt they'd reunited enough, and led him back to his dwelling, where they spent the night enclosed in warmth and comfort and... tenderness.
In the morning, the stranger led them not to the surface, but along an underground tunnel that brought them up right at the wasteland's edge. Though they would have to travel a half day's walk to get back to the main path, none of them thought it mattered.
As Ander stepped several paces into the lush territory, having thanked his host profusely, stood on the other side of the border with his hands outstretched, looking up to the sky, Jam hesitated and turned to their host. He was watching him--them--with unreadable eyes.
Jam turned back to him more fully.
"... What can I do to repay you?" he asked softly.
The stranger, with those blue eyes that glowed red with the right light, shrugged and looked offhandedly at him.
"It was nothing."
"You returned my brother to me," Jam said softly, suddenly shy in the presence of this demon-god.
The god looked at him, a sudden intensity flashing into his eyes.
"... Be my friend."
Jam stared at him. But he responded with only a moment to think.
"Ok."
Surprised registered briefly in those blue-red eyes. But a look of relief filled his suddenly blank face, a pleased expression touching it as well though he tried to hide it.
"Thank you."
"... What is your name?"
"... Crynastasos."
"... Cryna then..." Jam said with a smile.
Cryna jumped forward suddenly and kissed him.
"That's a thank-you." He winked.
Jam blinked, a blush riding high on his cheeks.
"Take care."
"... Is it?" Jam replied finally, faintly.
Cryna nodded, smile coming upon his lips. "It is."
They returned home amongst much cheer and cause for celebration. Even the strongest of men shed tears, as they welcomed back their lost clanmate and embraced. Their father, especially, shed tears as he embraced his lost son, struggling to tell himself it was for real.
His mother shed tears, too, as she waited silently nearby.
Then she couldn't take it anymore, and joined her husband and son in a hug.
It'd been a while since their return, and Ander was finally regaining that light, that spark that was so innately him.
And Jam now had a friend in the desolate wasteland.
Jam blushed as he thought onto the demon-god. He and Cryna were... getting along.
The story of how Jam forgot the stone for his rite of passage--"it was a rescue mission!"--would have to be told some other day.
~The End~
Happy Halloween! ^_^
"Warrior Meneander! Embark on your quest with the faith and power of your clan behind you. To Meneander!"
"To Meneander!" the crowd roared.
The warrior about to go on his rite of passage was surrounded by family, friends, and other clanmates, wishing him well on his coming rite. No one mentioned the danger inherent in the task ahead. No one mentioned those who have never returned.
It was a time of celebration, for now.
Meneander laughed as he walked among his comrades. They patted him on the back and hooted, getting drunk over the steady supply of heady wine available.
Meneander was full of life, bronzed, strong, and courageously ready for his battle. He spotted his brother and stopped before him with a smile. He pretended not to notice the apprehension in the smaller male's gaze.
"Enjoying, brother?"
Jam seemed to think about his words, obviously unwilling to rain on the parade. He looked up at him with a somber gaze.
"... I wish you well, Ander."
The elder's smile gentled, and he steadfastly ignored the severity of the situation he was thrust in.
"Thank you for your concern. Don't worry." He winked. "I'll be fine."
Jam gazed up at him.
"Be careful."
"I'll be back home soon. You'll see," Ander reassured with a smile, ruffling his hair.
The party lasted for several more hours, and the noise took a while to die down.
It was only when the partygoers were forced to start acknowledging the severity of the situation that they truly went to bed.
Jams went to bed with worry weighing heavy on his heart.
Ander never came back.
Jam awoke from a peaceful dream, and was immediately greeted by an unwelcome sight--his father's face on a beautiful sunny morning.
Jam's face set into a scowl, and he rolled over out of bed, completely ignoring the man in his room as he got dressed.
Jam left his room as quickly s possible, the day already looking stormy. His father followed, uncharacteristically still saying nothing.
It was only until they got down the stairs, Jam rushing as they neared the relative safety of the kitchen, that his father spoke.
"Son."
"I don't want to hear it, Dad." Jam practically ran the last few steps and slammed open the swinging door the kitchen.
His mother looked up as he entered with a slight smile, but admonishment in her gaze. She was about to speak when she saw the cause of his aggravation in the form of his father stalking in after him. She wisely kept her mouth and decided to let the boys duke it out.
"You have to go on your rite of passage."
Jam turned around. "Dad-"
"I know you're upset bout your brother," the chief replied quietly. The others in the room sombered. "We all are." The chief's mouth firmed and he straightened, the sorry inside hidden by the strengthening of his broad shoulders. "You will not become a man without this rite of passage."
Jam's eyes flashed. "So what! So I'll remain a boy, the boy who didn't grow up!"
Jam's father stiffened in anger, and Jam almost thought he began to growl.
"Silence!" his mother thundered, shocking them both a little. They turned to her slightly, unnerved. She stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at both of them. "Enough, both of you," she said, with a meaningful glance at her husband. "You will sit down, and we will have breakfast. This will not continue until after breakfast. You will not have this argument in my kitchen." She glared at them, pursing her lips as they remained silently in awe of her. "Am I understood?" she thundered.
"Yes/ma'am."
"Good." His mother smiled sweetly, her good humor already being restored--she was, after al, very forgiving. "Now sit down and eat."
They obeyed her without question, but his father started to mutter as he took his seat. His mother swept around the table, looping her arms around his shoulders as she pressed a kiss to his mouth.
"Silence, my darling," she murmured.
Miraculously, his father obeyed.
Jams knew he was disappointing his father, and his mother a little to some degree, though she was more practical.
The villagers, his clansmen, treated him as much of a chickenshit as the others who refused to go. They seemed to reward the decision with a label of cowardice. No matter how very real the risk and endangerment of life was, they still expected young men to go on this rite of passage. You'd think, if they wanted more of their men to survive into 'manhood,' they'd find some other rite of passage. One that didn't threaten the lives of the vey bravest.
And they lost his brother, Jam thought bitterly.
There was no way he was going to risk his life by going.
His father could think of him as a failure if he wanted. But he had more of a head on his shoulders than to go through with it.
"James."
His brother appeared on a moss-ridden rock, slipper and wet with the water surrounding him.
"James," Ander insisted more urgently. His eyes were tinged with wildness, and lost hopelessness was settled fully on his face. Gone ws the light that always seemed to emanate from his brother, the light that permeated every space he entered.
Who was he, this couldn't be his brother.
Ander leaned forward from where he was crouched, seeming chained to the rock. He tried to reach for his younger brother, but his balance was precarious on the slippery rock, and he had to use his hands to balance himself.
He wasn't falling into that water again.
"James," he said gain, more urgently.
Jam couldn't help but stare and gape in astonishment.
"I'm alive." He winced a little as he shifted on his injured foot, and gave a little twisted smile (in pain and despair, that is). "Come get me."
Jam was jolted into that semi-awake state between sleep and waking. His dream was still vivid in his mind, but his rational, wakeful side was tyring to push through and erase the dream to nothing but a vague memory.
His brother was communicting to him in his sleep.
"I'm alive. Come save me."
Jam gasped awake. ... He had to go, now.
A shudder ran through him.
His parents were proud as the nearest clan members gathered around him, his father fastening his trappings onto him.
Jam had told no one but his mother he thought his brother was still alive. His mother didn't want him to go, and risk losing another son, but she was proud of his decision. But he knew she had told his father as well. He didn't want to believe it (was true), but there was hope in the eagerness of his fingers
"Young Jamesen," the chief magistrate announced in his powerful, somber voice. The other voices hushed to nothing but a near whisper as he spoke, dying altogether as he spoke more. "We applaud you for your bravery. May you find peace, wealth, and success. Return safely, Jamesen, with the ful bcking of your clan behind you (for support). To Jamesen!"
The voices rose up in a single, deafening shout.
"To Jamesen!"
Jams stood at the edge of the valley, the fertile land behind him, waiting to step foot over the boundary line, staring into the desolation awaiting him. Despite the overwhelming heat, and the hint of deep water somewhere underground adding a cloying, humidifying effect, Jams felt like he could not get warm. A chill was settled inside him, raising goosebumps on his skin. He really didn't want to go in.
But then he remembered his brother, reaching toward him.
"I'm alive, James."
And that settled it. He took a step, the step, over the visible boundary into the desolate desert waiting beyond.
He would get through this, and he would bring back the light to his brother's eyes so clouded in darkness.
Come night time, though, he wasn't so sure.
The darkness was closing in rapidly around him.
There was nary a light around to see by, but the sky in places still held a strange lavender light.
There was a sense of evil closing in.
Jam stilled to a halt, hesitated as the night closed in around him. It was too dark to go anywhere. He was too far in now to rest in the safety of the fertile valley beyond; he'd left that safety net hours ago.
He didn't have anywhere to spend the night.
And still that felt-like-evil was closing in on him, sensing his dilemna. A sense of cackling filled the air, and Jam shivered, hands clapping to his upper arms as he rubbed himself, trying to warm.
Then, there was a noise behind him.
Jam's blood ran cold. He turned, slowly, so slowly, and wanted to run out of his mind as a second hand pulled out of the ground to join the forearm already pulling itself up, ghoulish grey in appearance. Jam's mind went a curious sort of blank, and he watched as more hands started pulling from the ground, but as he watched, his instincts kicked in, and he turned and rain, panic taking full-throttle.
Jam ran until he was near out of breath, the ghouls--or ghoul-like creatures--behind him not sounding winded at all. He didn't dare look back.
A dark figure appeared several yards in front of him. He prayed, to whatever of his people's gods may be listening--as something told him many of his people had done before--that this figure could be trusted, and ran toward him.
"Please-help me-" Jam gasped, resting hands on trembling thighs as he hunched over, panting to get his breath. He gazed up at the figure.
A flash of light seemed to illuminate him.
His pale hair shown white, and his blue eyes glowed red in the right light. An amused, dangerous smirk was on his face.
"Well, look who's lost their way..."
Jams gulped.
The strange figure spoke words in a lost, forgotten lnguage, and the ghouls slowly shrunk away. Then he turned that unnerving attention on Jam.
Jam couldn't run anymore. He'd lost all energy. And--so help him--he fainted.
"Welcome to All Hallow's Eve."
Jams awoke, and there was a gentle light filling the cavernous room he was in. Jams stared at the rock ceiling above him, lost and trying to get his bearings.
There was a rustle to his left, and the unmistakeable clinking of a meal on a tray. A little more light spilled into the softly glowing room as the door was pushed open further.
Jam turned his head on his pillow to get a better look at the newcomer, and gasped upright as he recognized the figure.
Sharp blue eyes flashed red as he looked up sharpy, the figure from before now fully illuminated.
The two strangers stared at each other. One was challenging, the other fearful. Both were wary.
The stranger from last night smirked as he straightened, bumping open the door the rest of the way with his hip.
"Well, well, sleeping beauty. I see you're awake."
Jam thought back frantically onto last night as the stranger continued further into the room. Jam gasped, wide eyes fixing on the other figure even as an embarassed flush touched his high cheekbones.
"Demon!" he gasped.
The figure stilled, eyes flashing as he pulled himself up in affront.
"I am not a demon. I am a god," he replied, insulted.
Jam stared at him blankly for a moment. Then he looked to stone ceiling, his confused mind refusing to make sense of it.
"A god is serving me breakfast in bed...?" he mused aloud, muttering, a finger tapped to his chin.
The figure's eyes flashed red. But he smirked and stepped further, coming closer while the other seemed distracted.
"And what were you doing outside in the middle of the night?" he murmured next to the boy's ear, setting the tray down on the bedside table.
Jam gasped and lurched to the side, slapping a hand over his ear as he turned to look wide-eyed at the stranger. He continued to inch away.
The stranger was watching him with a smirk.
"... What?" he asked blankly, realizing there was a question he'd never answered.
The stranger's eyes glittered a little.
"What are you doing here?" he asked straightforwardly.
Jam thought quickly. How much could he tell this figure...? He couldn't really trust him or say anything, but if he didn't...
Jam scooted over so he was facing the demon-god and bowed down, touching his hands to the bed.
"Please, I'm looking for my brother..." The other responded with silence. Jam couldn't see his expression from where he was. He looked up. "Please-- ... Let me go."
"... I'll take you to your brother."
Jam stared at him. (He started to turn away.)
"Eat your breakfast."
Jam stared into the darkness, clutching at the stranger's arm as he walked slightly behind him. The dim light offered no hint as to what lay beyond in the tunnel they seemed to be walking through.
His host led him into a larger cavern, a little more well-lit at least on ground level. The top disappared into darkness, no clue as to how far it reached up. The stranger turned from him a little as he stopped, pulling him gentle.
Jam noticed the figure in the middle of the room, curled tiredly, tightly to fit his long frame, on a smaller rock in the middle of a pool of water.
"Brother...!"
Jam rushed forward, letting his host go. His brother had stirred sightly at the exclamation. But Jam's host stopped him as he neared the water.
Jam looked back, eyes flashing. The stranger held a finger up this lips, and knelt down beside him, touching the water, a slight glow dispersing into the water around his fingers. He didn't flinch at the slimey, icy cold as his hand stayed submerged. Jam vaguely remembered a warning about the water from his dream.
The host looked up at him and nodded, and without another word, Jam took off crashing into the water, not paying attention to the cold that soaked him to the chest as he thrashed his way to his brother.
"Ander!"
The figure finally stirred again, lifting its head up.
"James...?" the desperate figure croaked.
"Ander!" Jam sobbed, clamoring up onto the rock and gthering his brother's cold body into him.
"James..." Ander whispered, somewhere between a choke and a sigh. Weary arms came up to clutch at his brother's solid back. "James... you're here..."
It took them a long while to settle down, both clutching onto the other and once in a while whispering the other's name.
Ander finally calmed down enough to pull back, though he still held tightly onto his brother's upper arms.
"How did you get here so quickly?" 'Alive' was added at the end with a touch of guilt.
He...
"I... met the right guy."
... met the right guy.
That was indeed it, wasn't it.
When he turned to look, the stranger was gone. But he felt him with a touch of the mind.
The stranger had returned once he'd felt they'd reunited enough, and led him back to his dwelling, where they spent the night enclosed in warmth and comfort and... tenderness.
In the morning, the stranger led them not to the surface, but along an underground tunnel that brought them up right at the wasteland's edge. Though they would have to travel a half day's walk to get back to the main path, none of them thought it mattered.
As Ander stepped several paces into the lush territory, having thanked his host profusely, stood on the other side of the border with his hands outstretched, looking up to the sky, Jam hesitated and turned to their host. He was watching him--them--with unreadable eyes.
Jam turned back to him more fully.
"... What can I do to repay you?" he asked softly.
The stranger, with those blue eyes that glowed red with the right light, shrugged and looked offhandedly at him.
"It was nothing."
"You returned my brother to me," Jam said softly, suddenly shy in the presence of this demon-god.
The god looked at him, a sudden intensity flashing into his eyes.
"... Be my friend."
Jam stared at him. But he responded with only a moment to think.
"Ok."
Surprised registered briefly in those blue-red eyes. But a look of relief filled his suddenly blank face, a pleased expression touching it as well though he tried to hide it.
"Thank you."
"... What is your name?"
"... Crynastasos."
"... Cryna then..." Jam said with a smile.
Cryna jumped forward suddenly and kissed him.
"That's a thank-you." He winked.
Jam blinked, a blush riding high on his cheeks.
"Take care."
"... Is it?" Jam replied finally, faintly.
Cryna nodded, smile coming upon his lips. "It is."
They returned home amongst much cheer and cause for celebration. Even the strongest of men shed tears, as they welcomed back their lost clanmate and embraced. Their father, especially, shed tears as he embraced his lost son, struggling to tell himself it was for real.
His mother shed tears, too, as she waited silently nearby.
Then she couldn't take it anymore, and joined her husband and son in a hug.
It'd been a while since their return, and Ander was finally regaining that light, that spark that was so innately him.
And Jam now had a friend in the desolate wasteland.
Jam blushed as he thought onto the demon-god. He and Cryna were... getting along.
The story of how Jam forgot the stone for his rite of passage--"it was a rescue mission!"--would have to be told some other day.
~The End~
Happy Halloween! ^_^