Through The Storm

Through the Storm
[593 words]

Tieldar hefted his lance against the darkening sky.  He waved it at the thunder and lightning that was yet to come.  He called out to the wind that had begun to chase the leaves and whip at the valley grasses.  “Ho, to the gods,” he lamented. “You will protect my honor and safety as I go through the mountains to my blessed home,” he continued in the dialect of his ancient people. 

Littlefoot watched intently as his father commanded the oncoming storm.  He wondered if his father really had such powers.  It was remarked widely that Tieldar would rise in the clan and someday be ‘Chief’ but Littlefoot wasn’t yet wise in the ways of the elders, being only 8 winters old. 

The group gathered at the foot of the great mountain they were to climb and Tieldar cautioned everyone to be sure their mounts were ready, provisions packed and to leave anything behind that they didn’t need for survival.  Anyone who thought more about worldy things, than the 'Spirit' would cause them hardship.

Littlefoot looked through his pack.  There was dried caribou, tinder packaged in corn husks, rawhide cord, and an awl.  The only thing he wasn’t sure about was his special rock he’d had since he was three years old.  He decided that it had been with him for all these years and should not affect the weight of his pack, now. 

They traversed higher and higher along the trail eked out by caribou, moose and a multitude of animals that moved with the seasons.  Halfway up the pass they were stopped by an avalanche, frozen in their path.  Looking about for shelter Tieldar detected a cave they could reach if they were careful, but he died a little inside knowing the animals couldn’t traverse the steep climb.  Instructing everyone to hobble the animals they removed their packs and they started hand over hand up the slope, using their axes to secure their ascent.

The temperature dropped and chattering from the cold they huddled together inside the cave.  It would soon be dark.  Littlefoot was hungry, he chewed on the dried caribou. 

Materials to build a fire were collected from amongst the group’s packs.  However the older female, Sentia, noted they had nothing to light the fire with. 

Even Tieldar became worried.  He called to the gods once more, “Let us have the power of your light in this dark place,” he prayed and thrust his signature lance into the air. 

Littlefoot stashed the remaining caribou into his pack and drew out his secret stone.  Cautiously, he rubbed it for good luck but it slipped from his fingers and bounced into the circle.  He tried to retrieve it but the old woman, Sentia, snapped it up. 

With grace, she spoke quietly to Tieldar, "Your prayers have been answered, here is the stone that will bring the light we need.”

Tieldar took the stone and struck it against the surface of the cave, a blue spark briefly lit up the area. "From whence did the stone appear," he called out.

Littlefoot, was unsure but he knew that honor and truth were linked.  His small voice echoed through the cave, "My father, I've had this stone since I was three years old.  I didn't know it had special powers."

Tieldar entreated, "The gods are with you.  Come forward and make this night shine."

Littlefoot was humbled to know he shared the power of his father’s birthright and the light within the stone he carried could save them all.