Short Fiction Blog

After a frantic search, Alomar found his parents in tears, standing by the stables. Their excited cries where meshing, making it impossible for Alomar to understand what they wanted of him.

“Calm down, Mother,” Alomar demanded, taking her in his arms. “Speak slowly so I can understand.”

After she took some deep breaths, his mother explained, “We don’t know where Shana is!”

Alomar felt the world tilt. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t considered Shana from the beginning. Borate was sure to have killed her. He knew her power, and would squelch it immediately, so his rampage would be unimpeded.

Unable to look his parents squarely in the eye, Alomar told them of Borate. Incredulous expressions covered their faces the more he talked. Alomar watched his mother crumple in his father’s arms when he got to the part where he told Borate of Shana’s powers.

“Look what you’ve done, Alomar,” his father screamed, waving his hands to encompass the destruction around them.

“I know, but I thought he was okay. Shana convinced me he meant no harm.”

“Don’t blame this on your sister!” His mother screeched, slapping him. “She is too young to know better.”

Alomar blamed himself for not listening to his instincts already. He did not need his parent’s wrath to assure him he had made a grave mistake. His only consolation was the fact Shana had trusted Borate also.

I’m sorry, little sister, he silently apologized.

A villager knocked Alomar to the ground when he stepped out his front door. After regaining his feet, Alomar grabbed the next man to run by and demanded an explanation.

“The beast is terrorizing the village!” the man screamed, the stench of fear permeating the air around him. “We must leave now!”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” Alomar beseeched, trying to explain about Borate. “The beast is friendly. He probably needs food.”

Jerking his arm away, the man looked at Alomar in disgust, before stating, “Oh he got food alright. He’s ate Blacksmith John and the Healer already,” before running into the night.

Stunned, Alomar staggered into the center of the village in search of Borate, admonishing himself for ever believing Borate’s lies.

Alomar mulled over all Borate had told him, wondering what was in store for them. He knew word of Shana’s power was spreading, because the sick and deprived came from across the mountains to feel her healing touch.

The villagers themselves never shared word of her gift, but strangers witnessing the healings told friends and family, not knowing the consequences their action could bring. Alomar wasn’t sure of the consequences either, but knew it better to keep quiet than spread word of all Shana could do, especially after talking with Borate.

Alomar also thought it wise they tell their parents about Borate, but Shana insisted this was a bad idea. She said they would never understand he was friendly and meant them no harm. Shana feared their parents would rouse the villagers to take up arms against Borate, forcing him to protect himself and then people would get hurt.

Alomar thought once his parents met Borate they would understand and like him, so was trying to convince Shana everything would work out. He worried someone would accidently come upon Borate and things would be worse than if he was brought out in the open.

When he heard a scream outside and rushed to help, Alomar thought his fears had been realized.

His father had forbidden sharing of the information he was about to depart in fear of reprisal. The family wanted to keep Shana safe at all costs. He wasn’t sure how he knew it, but Alomar knew Borate would protect Shana with his life, so taking a deep breath he told of Shana’s power, explaining her gift in detail.

“Not only can Shana start fires, she can put them out. With one breath, she can douse a blaze,” he whispered in awe. “She can part the waters of the river, draw forth rain, and pull the power of the sun to warm the land,” he stated, assessing Borate for signs of disbelief.

Seeing Borate was listening intently, Alomar told of Shana calming the beasts of the wild, multiplying the gardens of the village by sifting soil through her hands and replacing it around vegetables, and predicting the future.

“She has only predicted one significant event,” he informed Borate. “The rest have been little things only important to her.”

“Her power will grow as she does,” Borate proclaimed. “The more intelligent, insightful, and mature Shana gets, the more important her visions will be.” He looked Alomar in the eye, and stated, “Always listen to her, Alomar. You never know when something seemingly insignificant could mean life or death.”

“Where did old magic come from,” Alomar inquired, trying to understand.

Borate shook his head, “Nobody knows. The oldest recorded history talks of a child waking up one morning with ‘magic hands’ but gives no reason.”

“It was the same for Shana,” Alomar confirmed. “Until she was two, she was a normal child. On her second birthday, she touched Mother’s wilting herbs and they sprouted new leaves. That strange yellow light encompassed her and the plants, scaring us all but Shana. She seemed to be in a trance, concentrating fully on the herbs. From then on she has been healing people, plants and animals.”

“Does Shana’s magic entail anything besides healing?”

Alomar thought he detected more than idle curiosity in the question. He wanted to keep Shana’s abilities secret, but feared there would come a time when Borate’s help was needed, so decided to share the information.

“No, there is more,” he began. “Shana only uses it when absolutely necessary though,” he assured Borate.

“I know Shana would never use her magic for evil, Alomar,” Borate offered, calming the boy. “Go ahead and tell me what else she is capable of. I need to know.”

“The elders in my pack often spoke of old magic with awe and fear. They talked of wizards capable of crumbling mountains onto towns, witches brewing concoctions strong enough to wipe out tribes, and overlords causing oceans to rise and cover entire cities,” Borate began.

“Anyone who knew how to use old magic was revered and treated like a god, always cow towed to and waited on hand a foot by all,” he continued with a sneer. “The power corrupted their souls.”

“Shana isn’t like that,” Alomar protested.

Borate smiled, answering, “No, she is not. Shana is special in more ways than one.”

“What do you mean?” Alomar questioned.

“You will see in time,” Borate cryptically replied.

A few days later, Alomar decided to pay Borate a visit without Shana. He wanted to find out more about how old magic worked.

Making sure Borate knew of his presence, Alomar ascending the hill, stopping a couple of feet from Borate’s slouching form. He knew Borate was purposely staying seated to avoid scaring him. Although he had visited often since their first encounter, he was still wary of the beast, and Borate seemed to sense this.

Alomar thought it a good mark on his character that Borate tried to put him at ease on each visit. The more he got to know Borate, the more Alomar liked him. Still, the fact Borate could cut him in half with one swipe of his huge paw was never far from Alomar’s mind.

“What can I do for you?” Borate inquired.

“I wish to talk about old magic. I want to understand better in case I need to help Shana,” Alomar replied.

“Ah, old magic,” Borate whispered. “Take a seat and I will tell you the power old magic holds.”

Shana repeated the message to Alomar who was listening intently. He wanted to know everything he could about Borate and his kind. Borate had already explained his unique coloring came about over time, an adaptation to the surroundings on the frozen peaks.

Alomar paid particular attention when Shana started talking about old magic. He had heard whispers about others like Shana, and some even more powerful. He was often jealous of the attention Shana received. Jealous, until he saw how much was asked of her, the sacrifices she made to help everyone else, and the strength it took to heal. He then knew her power was a burden as much as gift.

Borate said he had thought all the old magic dead until witnessing Shana heal. In all his travels, he had not heard of anyone practicing it in over three decades. He went on to tell them of the destruction wrought when old magic was bestowed upon an unworthy, evil person.

Alomar listened in trepidation. The more Borate talked about the powers of old magic, the more uneasy Alomar grew for Shana. If others, intent on evil, heard of Shana, Alomar feared they would take her and force the use of her gift for nefarious purposes. A glace into Borate’s eyes told Alomar he feared the same.

“My kind has inhabited the frozen peaks for generations,” Borate told Shana. “We venture far from home on hunts, exploring new lands and learning of other beings. The gryphons of the frozen peaks are curious about everything, we want to learn all we can, grow our knowledge, and hopefully broaden our views on the world. We also mate for life,” he finished with a wistful sigh.

Shana asked what was wrong after hearing the sadness in his voice.

“Crile, my mate, was killed in an attack two years ago,” he whispered. “I miss her every day.”

He looked at Shana and Alomar, and continued. “There is a deep bond between gryphon mates. We feel each other’s pain, share joys, and when one dies a little part of the other goes with them. It’s like a fire is extinguished in our soul. Nothing can warm that place again.”

Alomar continued to worry over Borate and question Shana whenever they were alone. She tried to convince him it was safe, Borate would never hurt them, but Alomar wasn’t sure. All the accounts told of beasts such as him terrorizing villages, not helping them.

Shana brought Alomar with her to visit Borate again on her next trip, hoping to ease any fears Alomar still harbored.

Alomar watched Shana walk up to Borate and hug him. He was astounded when the mighty beast nuzzled his beak in the crook of Shana’s neck and let go a contented sigh.

Shana talked with Borate, and the beast replied. Alomar could not understand what Borate was saying and wondered how Shana could. For all her magic, he had never seen her talking with animals before.

Maybe there is some magical connection between the two, he mused, sitting down to listen when Shana started explaining what Borate was saying.