Sky Child

by Brenner, T. M.

  I think about it for a moment. It does make sense for me to look different than everyone else, just so they know who to follow. Lagan had leather armor that was light gray like a cloudy sky. They had used ash from the Great Fire to color it. It made him stand out very well.

  "Okay, you can make new armor for me," I say.

  "Well, I won't be the only one working on it. You need new armor quickly, so that you can lead the hunt."

  "Who else is working on it then?" I ask.

  "Jib and Stanchion," says Anchor.

  I know that Jib makes armor, but Stanchion is someone that fixes things that are made of metal. We don't have much metal in the Crag. We only have what has been passed down to us from the gray ones many, many snows ago.

  When something metal isn't needed any more, or is broken too badly to be fixed, Stanchion makes new things out of it. Sometimes they are useful things, and sometimes they are things to look at. He has made scraps into objects that are given as gifts. They are very beautiful. It is an honor to have him working on my armor.

  "Thank you, Anchor. I will try to help however I can," I say.

  "See you after breakfast then," says Anchor, walking away with his eggs.

  I collect as many eggs as I can carry in my pockets and walk back to the Crag. After cooking breakfast at the Great Fire, I head back to our room. When I get there, Flot and Jet are awake and dressed. Flot has already heated a pot of water, and set out cups for each of us.

  "What took so long?" asks Flot.

  I give him an angry stare. I set the pan on the red stone floor and all of us wolf down the eggs. About halfway through breakfast, Flot stops eating.

  "Seriously Sam, why did it take you so long to get breakfast?" asks Flot.

  "Anchor was getting eggs too, and he stopped me," I say.

  "Why did he do that?"

  "He needed something."

  "What did he need?"

  "He needed to talk to me," I say.

  "Sam, why are you being a stupid butt?" asks Flot.

  "Because you smell like one," I say.

  Flot rolls his eyes at me.

  "Okay, fine. Anchor needs me to go to his room so that he can make new armor for me," I say.

  "Really?" says Jet.

  "Yes, really," I say.

  "Are you going to make it gray like Lagan's armor was?" asks Flot.

  "Probably not. But we will need to figure out a color that doesn't look like the armor that the hunters already wear."

  "Who is 'we'?" asks Flot.

  "Oh, me and Anchor. And Jib. And Stanchion," I say.

  "Wait, Stanchion is working on your armor?" asks Flot.

  I just nod my head.

  "I don't know what he's making for the armor, but they wouldn't have asked him if they didn't need his help," I say.

  "Can we come along?" asks Jet.

  "Yes, but all they are doing is getting my outline. They won't have anything for me to try on yet," I say.

  "Okay, that does sound kind of boring," says Jet. "Never mind."

  We finish up our breakfast and I send Jet off to clean the pan. Once I leave our room, I head to the Great Fire to ask Moss which path leads to Anchor's room. Moss tells me that it is only a few rooms from Charm's, and to follow that path.

  I have a hard time finding it. When I get to Charm's room, I have to ask her for help. She tells me that you have to take a narrow side-tunnel to get there, and it is not easy to see. I have to look around for a while before I finally find the tunnel.

  Although I can get into the side-tunnel with no problem, I can see how larger people wouldn't be able to. I doubt Chaff could ever fit down this tunnel. I start to wonder if maybe Jet, Flot and I should move into this area just for protection. But I hate small spaces. They make me nervous.

  I walk down the tunnel, and I can feel my palms and forehead sweat. Dizziness threatens to make me fall. After taking a deep breath, I'm finally able to walk down the tunnel and enter Anchor's room.

  It is quite large as rooms go. You could probably have a pair of families staying in it and still have room. My guess is that he didn't kill anyone for the room. He probably took it because no one else wanted it, since it is hard to get to. He might be like me, not wanting to be bothered much.

  "Ah, Sam, glad you came then. All I need is for you to lie down on the ground over here," says Anchor, pointing to a spot near the wall.

  I go over to where he pointed and lie down on the hard stone. I can feel the cold of the floor through my hair and clothes.

  "Okay, now I am going to make the outline," says Anchor.

  Anchor takes a light-colored rock and scratches the floor all around me. When he is finally done, I stand up and stare at what is left. It looks kind of like me, or at least my shape. But with the white line on the dark red floor, it is very easy to see.

  "So what color did you want your armor?" asks Anchor. "I can do yellow, gray, white, green, red or blue. I can also mix some of the colors together, but some of them don't mix well. Also, so that you don't look like the other hunters, you can't pick brown or black."

  "I'm not sure," I say.

  "What if we made your armor blue, since you are the Sky Child, and the sky is blue?"

  I close my eyes and bite down hard, trying not to yell at Anchor for saying I'm the Sky Child.

  "I don't think it should be blue. I do like that color, but the sky isn't blue very often," I say.

  "How about red, like blood?" asks Anchor.

  "I don't know that I would like red either, because I don't want to think about blood every time we go hunting. There is enough real blood when we kill something," I say. "How about green?"

  "Yes, we can make it green."

  "Can it be a green like clover? Dark and light and strong at the same time?"

  "I think we can do that," says Anchor, smiling.

  "Thank you," I say, shaking Anchor's hand.

  "It is an honor, Sam."

  I leave Anchor's place, and make my way back to our room.

  Halfway there, as I turn down a twisting tunnel, I hear the sounds of a struggle. I move my feet faster, trying to find out who's fighting. I stop where the tunnel either continues toward our room, or splits off toward an even darker side-tunnel. I stand and listen for a moment, trying to decide which pathway to go down. Unable to tell which direction the fight is, I try the darker tunnel.

  The sounds of punching and grunts of pain get louder. As I turn the corner, I see Sickle and Scythe standing in front of Flot. Sickle is punching him in the stomach.

  "STOP!" I yell.

  Sickle and Scythe look surprised, but don't move. Sickle takes a step away from Flot. I raise my fist and chase after them. They both decide to run.

  "Cowards!" I cry out.

  I wait until the echo of their footsteps disappears then hurry back to Flot.

  "Are you okay?" I ask.

  "Ungh, just leave me alone, Sam."

  "Do you want me to get back at them?"

  "No. I don't want you fighting my battles for me. I'll be fine. Go away."

  "But Flot... "

  "JUST GO!"

  Flot yelling in my face startles me, and I back up. I can see in his eyes a deep anger, but I don't know if it's anger at me for trying to help, or if it's anger at Sickle and Scythe for torturing him. He could even be angry at himself. I felt the same way growing up. I hated that I let Sickle and Scythe bully me. There wasn't much I could do, being so small. The few times I did fight back, things were much worse for me. They would hit me even harder, or stomp on me with their feet. And no one ever came to help. I think that was the hardest part; not having someone to protect me, or to patch my wounds.

  I feel anger building inside. Not just for Sickle and Scythe being evil, but for failing Flot. He is going through what I went through; what I tried to spare him from. I just hope he knows that he's not alone.

  I nod at him, and walk back to our room.

  14

  When I get back to our roo
m, Jet isn't there, but Mast is waiting inside for me. I start to worry, because I'm surprised Mast would come into our room without being invited. Something serious must have brought him here.

  I notice that he's not wearing his armor. I'm not used to seeing him in normal clothes. I don't look at a lot of people. I feel like if I don't notice others, then they won't notice me. It's helped me stay alive. So even if I had passed by him in the tunnels, I wouldn't have noticed what he looked like.

  He has a beard, though not very long, and it has patches of white in it. He is not a gray one yet, but it probably won't be many snows before he looks like one. His eyes are serious, like he has lived a long and dangerous life, and there is little happiness in them.

  Mast's hair is dark brown, like the color of dirt when it rains. His skin is colored red where the sun has done its work. He wears his long hair tied back to keep it out of his face. His body looks like a tree stump, very sturdy and strong, and his arms look like he could move the largest rock in the Crag. I am glad that Chaff is my enemy, and not Mast.

  "Do you have need of me, Mast?" I ask.

  "No, I bring you news. Before you are truly the Leader of the Hunt, you must face the trials. Then, and only then will you be allowed to lead," says Mast.

  "Mast, I don't want to lead," I say.

  "That makes no difference. You will start tomorrow at sunrise. Be prepared for anything."

  Mast walks past me, but I stop him.

  "Wait, are the trials dangerous? Could I die?" I ask.

  "Yes."

  "Then I'm not doing them."

  "I am sorry Sam, but you have no choice."

  "You always have a choice," I say.

  "Then you must choose either to go through the trials, or we will kill you, and someone will take your place," says Mast.

  "So I can't make someone else the Leader of the Hunt?"

  "No."

  "Fine then. Kill me," I say.

  Mast stares at me in disbelief.

  "I didn't want this," I say. "Why should I bother when I will probably die anyway?"

  "Think of Jet and Flot. What will they do without you? Think of the Crag, and of the hunters. We need a leader like you. I know you don't really want to die. It's why you've worked so hard to survive. Why you took control when Lagan froze," says Mast.

  "Did Lagan and Hammer have to go through the trials?" I ask.

  "Yes, but it is different for everyone. What you will face will be meant for you alone."

  "How many people have died in the trials?"

  "Many," says Mast. "Many more than have succeeded."

  I think to myself for a moment.

  "Fine, I will do your trials. But once I am leader, I will change the rules so that no one has to suffer to become leader ever again," I say.

  "You miss the point of why the rule exists. It was put into place so that only someone brave, and strong, and smart would lead the hunters. It also keeps people from wanting to kill the current leader to take their place. It is meant to protect the hunters from having an evil coward for a leader."

  "Like Chaff?"

  "I am certain that people like him are the reason the trials exist," says Mast.

  I take a moment longer to think.

  "I understand," I say.

  Mast turns around then leaves.

  I wish I could leave everything behind me. Forget being the Leader of the Hunt, or even a hunter at all. I'd never have to kill a living thing again. Just take Jet and Flot and leave the Crag. But there is nowhere to go. We would walk around with no direction, praying to the Sky Gods that we find somewhere new to live.

  I can't do that. I can't risk their lives to avoid the trials. Going out on our own would be just as dangerous. So I will go through the trials for them, if for no other reason than to give them the chance to stay here, and stay alive.

  I sit on my bed and think for a while, trying to decide how to ready myself for the trials. Eventually Flot returns. I look at him, but he won't look at me. He tries to act like nothing has happened; like he isn't injured. Even though he is not very strong, Flot tries very hard to be tough.

  "So what did Mast come to talk about?" asks Flot.

  "I have to go through trials so that I can become the Leader of the Hunt. If I refuse, they will put me to death," I say.

  Jet walks in right then, having heard what I'd just said. I look at both of their faces, and I see the same fear and worry I feel inside.

  "What do you need to do for the trials?" asks Jet.

  "I will be tested, but they didn't say how," I say.

  "Could you die?" asks Flot.

  "Yes, but I'm not going to. I'm going to live for many more snows. I don't want to do this, but I have no choice."

  Neither Flot nor Jet say a word.

  "Now I need to train," I say.

  "How do you train for something, when you don't even know what that something is?" asks Flot.

  "I really don't know," I say.

  "Well, did Mast say anything? Anything that might help?" asks Flot.

  I think back to what Mast had said.

  "He said that the trials are meant to test if someone is brave, and strong, and smart."

  "At least that's something," says Flot. "But how do you practice being brave? Strong you can practice by lifting heavy things. You aren't very smart, so you should probably play a few games of jump stones with me for practice."

  I give Flot a fake look of anger.

  "You're right," I say. "It is a good idea to play a few games. And I probably won't get much stronger, even if I worked very hard at it until the sun sets. I also think that I am as brave as I will ever be. Okay Flot, you win. We can play jump stones."

  I'm glad to have the game as a distraction, so that I don't worry as much. I do my best to pay attention, but my thoughts keep going back to the trials. Sometimes worrying about something is worse than what actually happens. But sometimes it isn't.

  The first game goes by quickly. I beat Flot easily. The next takes much longer. Flot paid attention to the first game, and learned from it. I think he is taking it very seriously, because he wants to help me. I know if either Flot or Jet had to go through the trials, I would be working very, very hard to make sure they were ready for it.

  I win the next game, but not by much. I only have a few pieces left. Jet has been watching us play, and I think he is actually starting to pick up some of the tricks that I use. He smiles right before I make an important move, and cringes when I make a mistake. Maybe Jet is better at strategy than I realized.

  The last game is the best game of jump stones that I have ever played. It seems to take forever. Flot thinks through every move very, very slowly, making sure he makes the best decision he can.

  Normally when I play, I don't have to think about the first few moves, because I have done them so many times. There are only so many pieces you can move, and places you can move them to. But even those moves take a while as Flot tries his best to win.

  I don't know if it is pride or stubbornness, but I try my hardest too. I don't want Flot to beat me, even if it would mean so much to him. As hard as he is trying, I don't think he wants to beat me either. I think he just wants me doing my best, so that I have a chance at surviving the trials.

  I lose pieces, and Flot loses pieces. He gets a rock, and this time he does everything he can to protect it. He remembers to protect what is most important to him. I get a rock, and then another rock. Flot looks worried, until he gets another rock, too.

  I can't remember a game we have played where he had a pair of rocks. I can tell that Flot is very happy to get another rock. The question is, will he be able to figure out how to use his pair of rocks together?

  Slowly, I pick apart his pieces, until only my pair of rocks remain. Flot looks unhappy, but he still smiles.

  "Good game," he says.

  "Good game," I reply. "You did very, very well Flot. Once you have more experience with how to use a pair of rocks, I am sure you will soon be
at me."

  "I don't know, Sam. It seems like every time I get better, you get better."

  "I have to. I don't like to lose."

  "Sam, have you ever lost at jump stones?" asks Jet.

  "Sure, lots of times when I was first learning. The important thing is to learn from your losses. Sometimes you get more out of losing than you do from winning, because sometimes you just get lucky when you beat someone. Maybe they make a mistake, or don't try very hard. There can be things you learn from victories, but it's your losses that make you stronger. Learn from your enemies."

  "But you aren't my enemy," says Flot.

  "Yes I am, when we play jump stones. That is the point. We play games to war with each other without hurting anyone. They are meant to teach you things more important about yourself, and about others, than what you could learn by talking with them. You learn how they think, and how they see things. You can bet that someone good at jump stones would be good at war," I say.

  "But I have always heard that a game is just a game," says Jet.

  "Games are never just games. The people that say that usually aren't very good at them. It is a way of saying that the game does not matter to them, so if they lose, it doesn't hurt them inside."

  "I try not to let it hurt me inside," says Flot.

  "I know, but it's okay to let it hurt a little, so that it makes you want to be better. It should make you want to work harder, and get better, so that you win, and then the pain goes away."

  "I never thought of it that way," says Flot.

  "Neither had I, until now," I admit.

  15

  I spend the rest of the day trying to stay busy. I clean our room, wash my clothes, and bathe in the loud waters. Flot and Jet both go off and get into whatever kind of trouble they can find. Near the end of the day, Ebb visits me.

  "Sam?" I hear her sweet voice say.

  "Ebb, did you get some rest?" I ask.

  "Yes, thank you. It wasn't easy at first, with people walking by my room. But I was so tired from staying up all night that I was able to sleep."

  "I'm sorry that you had to stay up all night because of me," I say.

  "You don't need to apologize Sam. Knowing you are safe is worth it," she says.