Away from Leeward

“Now please stop the two playing,” said his mother said as she put a sizzling pot down off the stove to cool.

Colan sighed and walked reluctantly toward the playpen.

Screening was expensive and when Colan’s father was alive he helped the family squeeze just enough money for screens on the doors and for a playpen. Then, only Colan was a baby and even so the family was in debt for over a year. When Colan’s grandfather and father went with the army to get water for the town, Colan’s grandmother, mother, and aunt managed to get the family to rights again and out of debt. Soon after that the battalion came back, but only Grandfather returned to the family. No one exactly knew how his father disappeared, including his grandfather, who had lost sight of his son in the middle of a battle. Now, the playpen was old and had holes in it, but it would take a fortune to fix it.

Colan went and picked up his cousin, Vick, trying to wrench away a little ball from his hands that his grandfather had brought him one day after returning from a water trip. Vick loved the ball and would often spend hours of time just rolling it between his hands. He was always a quiet child, but curious and even before he could walk the family had often found him somehow out of the playpen and crawling about the house. Since he learned how to use his legs, he was always wandering around the house and getting into even more trouble. When Grandfather brought the ball home, he gave it to Vick to hold onto, never intending for the boy to cling to it and never share.

Colan sighed and watched Vick play for a while. Colan laid his hand on Vick’s forehead and quietly chanted the bliss hymn to let him be. There was an unspoken rule that his grandmother would never be satisfied unless he had done something to every child, though Colan didn’t know why. He wondered guiltily if he needed to chant to Grandmother more than the children.

Kelly, his third and youngest cousin, was almost as grumpy as Grandmother in Colan’s opinion. She was having a temper tantrum for some reason unknown and beat Colan with her tiny fists when he held her to his chest for full effect of the hymn he was about to chant. Kelly was another child that no one could quiet, except for Colan and his father. Colan debated on what hymn to use and decided on his usual combination. First, he slowly started the silence hymn just starting with the introduction. Then, doing a transition that he improvised every time, went into the bliss hymn while etching horses and sunshine in her mind. Finishing off with the sleep hymn, he laid Kelly down in the playpen.

By then his aunt and uncle had returned home, tired as always. His grandfather came sauntering into the house as soon as dinner was placed on the table. Colan admired his perfect timing, if not much else. His grandmother opened her eyes and wheeled over to the head of the table.

“Mother,” Colan’s mother said testily. “Please don’t sit in Daniel’s spot.”

“I’ll sit where I like,” his grandmother retorted. “You’ll say nothing of the sort.”

His mother rolled her eyes, but said nothing more as she placed the steaming hot vegetable and lamb bowl in the center of the table. After retorting that Colan had taken too much to eat and not to be so greedy, his grandmother started off their dinner conversation, as she always did, with a little gossip.

“Mother please,” Colan’s uncle said.

“Nonsense,” she said, “what’s the use of being able to commune if you can’t use it?”

Communing was a common trick that elderly witches who couldn’t use their powers in service often did. They were able to talk without ever leaving their houses and could do so silently without eavesdroppers. His grandmother had used her power as a fortuneteller and quite a famous one at that. She had worked in the service being able to accurately predict the motives and moves of the opponent they were fighting. She could predict the future and read minds, which Colan was sure hadn’t gone away. Luckily for her, she had gotten so well at her art, she needed to only concentrate to be able to perform a spell.

Colan’s uncle rolled his eyes.

“Silvia is looking for new nursemaids,” Colan’s grandmother said looking at her younger daughter-in-law, “no one knows how she got pregnant, but there are some rumors.”

“Her last husband died from pneumonia, didn’t he?” Colan’s mother asked as she spooned out more dinner onto hers and Colan’s plates.

“In that last rainstorm, yes, he did,” his grandmother answered back. “Jenna, you might want to look for a job, there,” she said to her younger daughter-in-law.

Colan’s aunt blushed. “I don’t think so, mother.”

His grandmother opened her mouth for a witty retort, but stopped herself and took another bite of food.

“There seems to be quite a demand for young recruits,” Colan’s grandfather said turning to Colan. “There’s one place you haven’t looked and they’re looking long and hard for magis.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Charles,” his grandmother said, gaining her speech again. “You can’t possibly expect the boy to go into the service. He’s not even trained in his art and besides,” she said taking a sip of milk from her wooden goblet, “he doesn’t have the build.”

Colan blushed.

“Furthermore,” she continued, “I don’t think it would be good for him to march right into a death trap. The only reason they’re asking for more recruits is because there seem to be more fire dragons and dust wolves than ever before and they keep losing people in the fight.”

“So you don’t just get gossip from those little chats of yours,” Grandfather said under his breath. But it didn’t matter how loud he said it, she still turned red and huffed out angrily.

“I’ll help you clear the table, Maggie,” Aunt Jenna said rising from her chair and grabbing a couple plates that she could reach. Her stomach bulged under the blue dress she was wearing ever so slightly, but enough for her step to become cumbersome. She smiled at her husband as she walked towards the kitchen with their plates.

Colan started to get up, but his grandfather stopped him and put his hand on his shoulder. Colan’s uncle got up from his seat and walked towards the bookshelf where their prayer books were held. Almost as important as the meal itself was the prayer afterwards in thanks for it. The service seemed the only thing keeping the family together, Colan remarked, as his grandfather opened up the books once everyone was seated again and began speaking in the ancient desert tongue various words of faith to their goddess, Alorian. She had supposedly saved the world from destruction by covering it with sand, the one thing the demons could not stand because whenever they looked up at the humans above to play tricks on them and kill them, it would get in their eyes and they were blinded. Colan had always wondered why she had created the dust wolves and fire dragons if her sand would be enough protection. And why her other creatures had to kill the villagers to be able to survive. But such talk was sacrilegious and would most likely get him punished severely by more than just his grandmother.

When they finished everyone got ready for bed. His mother placed a plate of food outside for the desert spirits, guardians, and holy subjects of goddess Alorian and then went to her room with the other children, alone as always. Colan listened at his thin door as she shut the door and blew out her candle. He had listened to her tell countless stories to his family, but tonight, for some reason, she did not bother with her usual evening ritual. Close to getting out of bed and going down the hall, Colan heard his grandmother get up and go to her daughter-in-law’s room and shut the door.

His grandmother must have performed a silent charm because he did not hear their voices, though he knew the walls were not thick enough to cover them up. He was afraid of what they were saying: that he needed to find an apprenticeship before he was too old. He also knew shortly after that, he was going to be pressured to find a wife and the prospect of both, scared him just a bit. He knew he had to grow up, but he wasn’t sure he was ready and with his father gone, completely lost as to how he was suppose to get there.

He was supposed to be inside helping his mother with the housework, but it was too tempting and too easy to sneak out of the busy house. He sat down on the ground and stared at the open expanse of the desert he loved. He eyed the sunlit purple mountains covering the horizon longingly, shooting up into the rainbow painted sky as the shadows fell down to the base of the range. The wind rustled his short brown hair lovingly as small cloud of dust flew playfully across the ground several miles from his position. Faintly someone called to him above the usual evening din of the town.

“Colan!” his worried mother called.

Colan got up slowly and turned around towards the village. He knew that he shouldn’t have wandered from home, especially with all the trouble that his mother had been having trying to raise a family on her own. But it was more interesting out there than in the village. The expanse of the desert was much more seductive than the daily life of the town.

He slipped through the marketplace where people bustled to and fro with their last minute shopping before the shops closed. A man held up food to the light and complained of the price. A mother bounced her child on her hip trying to figure out if she could afford cloth for new clothes. He could practically describe what daily life was in his sleep. Every day was cliché and he was tired of living the same basic hour over and over again.

He entered the residential district and went around the edge. Colan wasn’t in the mood to go down the main street and talk, especially since he was most likely pulled away for chores and needed to get home fairly quickly or else he would punished for dawdling. He slipped through the front door of his house and winced at the noise. It was the typical sight: three screaming children and two playing, his mother preoccupied by cooking and trying to hush the children, and his grandmother meditating on the rocking chair in the corner. His grandfather had probably gone to the pub only to be home at dinner, his aunt was helping the weavers at the small factory, and his uncle worked at building more structures wherever the government saw fit. In any case, the only person to notice his arrival was his mother, who brushed a piece of dark brown hair out of her sweaty face and frowned.

“Come please, Colan,” his mother whined as she pushed a boiling pot off the stove to keep the fire burning, “Help, with the children and aid grandmother’s head ache.” The house was hot and sticky and the smell wafting out of the kitchen was barely recognizable and most certainly not appetizing.

Colan sighed and expelled his emotions with his breath. He picked up his baby sister, April, and bounced her up and down on his knee. He recalled the day she was born, the first of April, and he had first seen his baby sister; clean from the bath and rosy pink. He had wanted to name her, but his parents both insisted that they stay with traditions and name her after the month she was born as all the other children were who were born on the first of the month. It was considered lucky and the children who were, often had special festivals hosted by the government in honor of their birthday. Colan sighed and brushed April’s hair out of her wet, tear-stained face. She was almost two years old and knew nothing about her father. But none of them did; Colan didn’t even remember him very well any more.

Colan’s only true connection to his father was through the ancient meditative hymns that his father had taught him. Every magus had a different requisite for which they can perform magic. Colan’s father could heal through music and Colan was lucky enough to inherit his father’s ability. He knew not every child born to a magus inherited the gift, but gifted though he was, it was not honorable to have to use his ability so often for such menial tasks.

Colan closed his eyes and cleared his brain, focusing on April’s tired cries. Rule one, he thought, clear your mind. Rule two, focus on your goal. Carefully focusing on sleep, he placed his hand on her forehead and started to hum. He could feel the music came from his soul and exited through his hand. April’s blue eyes closed gently. He placed her down carefully; praying that the remaining noise and heat wouldn’t wake her.

Next, Colan picked up Sandborn, his brother. Sandborn was always very fussy, but didn’t misbehave. His sister’s fussing was enough to set him screaming and crying for attention. Yet, Colan seemed to be the only one who could quiet him, which caused many problems when Colan was away from home looking for an apprenticeship now that his father was gone. Colan again cleared his mind and tried to use an easy trick to distract Sandborn. He reached over and laid his hand on Sandborn’s forehead slowly manipulating his younger brother’s mind’s eye to see small colors of light flit in and out of his vision. Sandborn was not truly upset, as Colan supposed, so as soon as Colan had him distracted, he was silent.

Finally, Colan picked up his cousin, Sabra and easily put her to sleep.

The original Chapter 1 was supposed to be a story all on its own. And for a time, it was, until a friend of mine said I couldn’t end a story like I had with a massive cliff hanger and had to continue writing. This means two things: the chapters get shorter and shorter as we go along because I gradually lost interest and stopped trying to make the chapters longer and that I lost all semblance of intrigue and conflict beyond an elementary level as things went on. Generally, I got tired of writing it, but finished in anyway. At the point I was writing the first draft, my grasp of a story was limited, but even for my standards then, it was a bit rushed.

From this point on, the original version and the new version will be drastically different. Not just because I’ve had more practice and am a better writer, but because I planned out the plot and characters, giving each a purpose and a stronger personality. Hopefully, if you compare the two, you should be able to see a better likeness to reality in the story (even though it is a fantasy) than before. Either way, I hope you enjoy the following chapter.

Updates have been sporadic, I know. But they will continue through the summer and hopefully, I will finish a chapter before the haitus for the school year. Check back every other day for a new update. The first chapter will start tonight and the next installment on Saturday.

        Chaos was extremely pleased, but Harmony was beside herself with rage. She stopped it by putting each little world to sleep, but not before the children had created more. Alorian had created magis who, with a proper component, could create magic. Olendal in turn created creatures that could shapeshift into other creatures. Almorren had created beings that could fly and direct the movement of things with their will and Orion had created magical creatures that could disguise themselves as whatever they fancied. Harmony looked at their worlds and decided that they should remain apart. But, as Chaos so tacitly reminded her, it was too late for that. So she created mountains on the edge of Alorian’s desert and Almorren’s tundra, a cliff before Orion’s ocean, and a forest around Olendal’s pastures. Then, she trapped her children into stars, each in a cardinal direction, so that they would not wage war on each other again. Their servants lived on with very little influence from their respective gods and goddesses. Every so often, they were allowed into their own created lands to help their servants thrive, but as time passed, the visits became fewer and less important. Finally their existence twinkled out completely and the servants were left on their own.

        Nature took its course and created half-breeds and wiped out sacred bloodlines. Few civilizations cared enough to retain the ancient order since most of the old laws were lost in oral telling. Finally Harmony grew tired of watching over them and created a prophecy which she buried pieces of deep in her children’s sacred cities. She watched as they looked for the pieces of the puzzle and slowly, Chaos got in on the game. The two greater powers watched as the servants looked for answers to the riddles they were dealt. Slowly, they reached out to the others living on the planet and relations between the different races started emerging and strengthening. And still, no one could solve the puzzle although they had all of the pieces. So, they buried it in the crossroads and forgot about it. Chaos and Harmony watched and waited for the fate to fulfill what was ought.

In the beginning of time there were two entities: Chaos and Harmony. At first, they chose to fight over their differences and destroyed each other’s creations. Chaos created demons and devils while Harmony did her best to create beings of light. If one side had the upper hand, the other side would crush it with a new creation. After years of fighting each other, they realized that neither could exist without the other and creating a truce began to use their powers constructively. They first created children.

Harmony was a very good mother and she allowed her children to create their own worlds in order to teach them that one needed to rely on others to truly succeed. Her eldest daughter, Olendal created a very green world with grass, moss, trees, ferns and countless of other plants. She created animals of every shape and size that fed in a perfect chain. She grew flowers lush and brightly colored.

Olendal’s brother, Orion, created water to his sister’s world. He created fish and other plants and animals that could breath water as well as air. He mimicked his sister’s feeding chain a created a great many variety of fish with sharp fangs.

Chaos was not perturbed by Harmony’s children’s perfect worlds. He simply ordered his own children to do the same. His eldest daughter, Alorian, created fire and desert. She filled the barren planet full of sand and set it spinning around a great ball of fire. She allowed no plants to grow and the creature she created fed off each other.

Alorian’s brother, Almorren, created wind. He liked his sister’s idea of a desert, but he did not want his creations consumed in fire. He created a wet powdery form of water he called snow and set it falling from the sky. He created a large silver globe and sent it spinning around his planet, devoid of plants and full of large lumbering creatures feeding off of the small mosses they found. Not to be outdone by his sister, he created a few terrible creatures with thick coats that fed on the plant eaters.

In a final gesture, Harmony put all four worlds together and told all the children to each create together, a single race of servants. But as Chaos had supposed, none of them agreed. Olendal’s pale-faced children would not live long in Orion’s underwater universe. Similarly, Orion’s half-humans couldn’t live anywhere else but in his world. Alorian mimicked Olendal’s idea and created humans, but she gave them tan skin and tougher hide. Almorren also gave his humans thicker skin, but a larger build too. None of the children could agree, so they placed their servants each on their land and started a war.

So just a word for the wise, I should say when reading this. I started the entire project when I was 12 years old. I was reading in a science text book that sometimes cloud precipitate over one side of a mountain because the temperature in the air causes it to rain. But by the time it gets to the other side of the mountain, there’s no water left in the cloud. Therefore, one side of the mountain is fertile, and the other side is desert. My ever curious imagination wondered what it would be like to live on the desert side of the mountain and so, Away from Leeward was born. The orignal started out with a fresh idea and eventually rushed to the end like a relay race. Time has passed since then and I decided to rewrite it.  After many days of practice, I thought that I could do better to write a more satisfying story that made sense. I changed the ages and the characters and created a history. So, soon I will start the prologue and general beginning of all things on this planet I’ve created. Before each chapter I want to take a break to illustrate where I’ve been and how far I’ve come. The original draft will be published with the chapter on the side, just in case you’re as curious as I about whether or not my efforts are indeed helping. Be prepared for a long ride because the editing is difficult and tedious and I’ve got a long way to go.