His home was still burning, wood warping under black smoke. He sat, watching from a distance, as the rest of village peered out from the trees, in anger, mistrust, but came no further.
The words of Chieftan Dani came to him, succor like a breeze from the past.
The words of Chieftan Dani came to him, succor like a breeze from the past.
She had come to him, after his parents... committed their shame. Stood by him a while, lay a hand on his shoulder.
She let him sob, tears evaporating on the sand, their pyre burning out over the sea of clouds.
30 minutes passed, an hour, before she spoke
She let him sob, tears evaporating on the sand, their pyre burning out over the sea of clouds.
30 minutes passed, an hour, before she spoke
"A wise man once told me, after my parents passed decades ago, 'grief is love derailed'. He said I shouldn't let my sadness erase my love for them. That mourning them was... disrespectful."
The stilt-walker, no older than seven or eight, glared up at her as she watched the sea.
The stilt-walker, no older than seven or eight, glared up at her as she watched the sea.
"Life has taught me, my own wisdom, that he was wrong."
She knelt down, to meet the boy at his level. Her eyes blazed a fierce violet, like the hottest flames that consumed his parents' totems.
"Grief is not a distraction from love, it is its natural conclusion."
She knelt down, to meet the boy at his level. Her eyes blazed a fierce violet, like the hottest flames that consumed his parents' totems.
"Grief is not a distraction from love, it is its natural conclusion."
She touched him just above the hesrt.
"That pain you feel in here? It is telling you those people you lost mattered. You cherished them. Hold onto that."
Tears flowed from his eyes freely then, sadness raw and unguarded.
"But... don't let that grief stop you, stilt-walker."
"That pain you feel in here? It is telling you those people you lost mattered. You cherished them. Hold onto that."
Tears flowed from his eyes freely then, sadness raw and unguarded.
"But... don't let that grief stop you, stilt-walker."
As she used the title his mother and father bore together: stilt-walker. A tribe's messengers, merchants, diplomats. He felt a heavy mantle settle on his shoulders.
"They watch you now, from the sea. They are counting on you now, as I do, as we all will someday."
"They watch you now, from the sea. They are counting on you now, as I do, as we all will someday."
Those words, like wind, only fanned the flames he felt now. Watching another fire burn, another promise crumble to ash and to ruin, he wondered.
Who am I now?
He fled in the darkness, away from those who found courage enough to creep towards him, armed with bone and knife.
Who am I now?
He fled in the darkness, away from those who found courage enough to creep towards him, armed with bone and knife.
He fled towards the shore, surefooted. How many times had he made his way towards his stilts in the dark, carrying off the demand or plea, of one chieftain or another? Far, far too many. For it to end like this...
Mom. He wondered silently. Dad.
What really happened to you?
Mom. He wondered silently. Dad.
What really happened to you?
