Cem (Caffeine Challenge #12)
I took part in the Caffeine Challenge #12 yesterday and that is what I came up with. Since English is not my native language, it needs some more proofreading, so I´m thankful for anyone offering criticism.
I went with the second prompt - They say you never forget your roots, but I did.
It was fun to play with words in another language and I hope it´s a good read, so here goes:
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To say that we were off to a rocky start would be accurate. The first time I walked into Cem wasn´t fun at all. I was frightened, given I was only a child and never met a woodwalker before. He talked to the trees, I snuggled with rocks and cliffs. We were never to be friends. So we became inseparable.
Even as a child he switched between being severe and witty in a heartbeat, but never in a pretentious way. His eyes could be hard as a rock, just to melt into a smile of softest clay, inviting me to see the world through his eyes. He is the most honest person I know and when I look back I still want to believe that. I have to believe, for without him I have no roots.
“You´re a stonebreeder!” The boy jumped right into my way, stopping me in my tracks, eyes wide with laughter. “I thought you were city bound.”
“Who are you?” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Lost in thoughts I must have missed him sneaking up on me, now all I was left to do was fight. Standing as tall as I could I yelled at him. “Answer me!”
“I´m Cem.” His smile dropped, leaving confusion on his face. He pulled away, now focusing on my clenched fists. “You don´t need to be afraid of me.”
“You are a woodwalker!” I hissed, teeth bared, breathing heavily. “You are a murderer.”
He lifted one arm to grab me, but I was faster. I jumped back, no longer hungry for a fight but afraid of the unknown. Not many people returned from the woods, let alone met a woodwalker and survived. No one would die today, not in a fight.
I decided to run.
And he followed me.
Cems feet barely touched the ground as he came after me, with breath as loud as my skipping heart. We passed bushy fern, dipped in fading orange light, as we ran towards the Hude Village. That sinister place I sworn my mother never to visit, but had to anyway.
“Wait. I won´t do you any harm.” His voice now sounded worried, pleading. These people knew how to bluff, I made sure never to fall for it. I took a left turn, leaving him to crash into an old tree, but he easily bounced of it and kept following me.
My legs hurt but I wouldn´t give in. I had to find my father, to do so I had to shake the boy off first.
He might have been friends with the trees but the rocks were my home.
I had to risk it.
Falling hard I grinded my teeth, jaw tight, eyes closed.
The ground opened up and swallowed me, vibrating sharp in my bones. I heard the boy scream, in wrath. Or fear? My skin scratched against layers of stone, first granite, then lime, a little sandstone on the way. And then nothing.
My body fell in cold air, sinking from the rocks. How could I be so foolish? I must have tried to swim through a cliff. I commanded the stone to hold me, tried to grab it – and hooked my fingers in human skin.
A muffled cry lingered in the ash above my neck, the ground flinched around me.
I was holding Cems hand. He must have tried to reach me, knowing that I would try to jump through my element, into a certain death.
Gravel cut into his arm, drawing blood from his dusty skin. Lime reached for my dangling body, caressed my face. A rope formed around my waist, lifting me up through the stone. Knowing they wouldn´t let go off me I couldn´t abandon Cems fingers. He slammed his body in the hole I created to keep me save. He could have lost a limb, but the rocks must have sensed something good in him and spared him.
My face urged from the ground, collected moss on the way. Our arms resurfaced, still holding each other, bloody and bruised and pumping.
His gaze met mine. He pulled back his hand. Vine tendril was wrapped around his chest, ivy held his hand. Roots of beech and birch pressed against his hips. He must have called for their help, to keep me from falling. And I called him a murderer.
Vulcanite raised me to my knees while the woodlings vanished back into the dark. Sunbeams mirrored in Cems face, now sharp with rage. The boy stood up and looked down on me and his expression changed to grief.
“You think we are to kill”, he said, tears washing against the corners of his eyes. “You should know we´re here to help. I risked my life to save yours. You owe me your name.”
I told him. He blew air up his nose, more a laugh than a gasp. “And what are you doing in the woodland? Awaiting to get killed?”
“My father is missing. My mother is in despair for we have no one to go to. I had to do something.”
“How old are you, stonebreeder? Your grip on the salty element is strong.”
“I was told not to tell. You know what happens to these who do.”
“You amuse me, little one.” Cem smiled and started picking on the drying blood on his arm. “As if your secrets are worth more than a friend.” He looked up to me, now pensive. “I don´t want you to get hurt again, no matter your age, no matter your name. It gets lonely looking for something lost. Let me join you.”
“I can´t stay, I have to go back before the sun sets.” Panic swept my voice away, pressing it to a whisper. “She doesn´t know I left her. She can never know I was here.”
The stone around us grew cold. Cems dark eyes followed the setting sun as it drew shadows in our faces. All warmth tended to leave the cliff, circling around me in agony and seeping to the ground.
His smile brightened the dawn, warming my eyes. “I won´t tell her. Let me get you back.”
He lifted one arm to reach me, resting his hand to mine. I did not run away. The ground found him worthy, sensed a good heart, and who am I to doubt my home.
He led me back to the city, standing tall beside me, a friend in hand.
He never left my side.
That day he showed me the beauty of the woods. Because of him, I, a stonebreeder, feel rooted. I have hope for this world and may it not be for the sake of my father who remains hidden, it certainly is for the friend I found in a stone cold grave.
They say you never forget your roots, but I did. I had to, to move on. To see that everything is connected.
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Thank you so much for reading, I hope to read some of your attempts too. Have a wonderful day :)
If you want to know how the story continues, make sure to read the sequels. Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7.