Author: Xenossta000 PM
When the Great Nations call for the last of the Earth Shifters, Spinel knows that their plans for him are nothing to look forward to. But the appearance of a boy from a strange land awakens the full extent of his powers. M for future Sexual Themes. Pls RRRated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Adventure - Words: 1,813 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Published: 06-11-10 - id: 2816626
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Story Title: Sun's Awakening
Summery: When the Great Nations call for the last of the Earth Shifters, Spinel knows that their plans for him are nothing to look forward to. But the appearance of a boy from a strange land awakens the full extent of his abilities.
Rated: M (For Future Sexual Themes)
Pebbles and Sand
Father, what am I to do? The young boy thought to himself, as he bent down to pick up the clay pot he had dropped. Checking it, he was relieved to find no cracks or chips. His mother would have been furious. Although, it wasn't that difficult to make a pot. For him at least. On his mothers' hand, it took hours. And in Spinel's hand? Simple, only mere moments. Spinel had been named after the rare purple blue gem that was his village's treasure. And why? Because he was born with deep blue eyes, that seemed to have a purple tint, whilst everyone else in the area was brown eyed, or golden eyed.
Spinel knew that he was out of place with his people. They were kind, and did not treat him differently because of his eyes. But they feared him none the less. He was a small boy, with deep brown hair that reached his waist. It was thick, was was done in many braids, a custom of his people, that fell around his. They clinked together softly whenever he moved, because of the stone beads that were woven into the braids. His skin was a dark tan, much like everyone else that grew up in the Iscon Desert. And all these dark colors made his eyes stand out more. But his eyes were not the reason she was feared. No.
It was Spinel's ability to control the will of the stone that made people fear him. Most colonies believed that such abilities had been wiped out, been made as sacrifices to the Great Dragon of the Sun. Most had been killed, and others exiled from the colonies.
"Spinel ." The voice rumbled gently towards him, from behind. It snapped him out of his thoughts, and he nearly dropped his mother's pot again as he turned to meet the voice. It was an elderly man, one who helped lead the village from the great war. He smiled at him, and the elderly man mimicked it with his own crinkled grin.
"Young Spinel, have you made your choice yet?" He asked calmly. Spinel's smile faltered slightly, and he looked away from him, instead deciding to stare at the pot instead. Seemingly intensely interested in the intricate designs that his mother had carved into the clay, he did not answer him. He simply chuckled, and put a hand on his narrow shoulder. "You should not worry about the trip, Earth Master. It will be swift and no dangers would befall you."
"It is not the trip that worries me, Elder." He said quietly, turning the pot in his hands. It was a part of the story of his ancestors. How the Great Dragon of the Sun burned the old nations, and born the New People. "What will they do to me?" He lifted his eyes to see to see the man's aged face. He thought for a moment before answering.
"I believe they will take you under their roof and care for you until you have truly mastered your abilities." He stated. But the elders' tone wasn't completely convincing, and he stared at him for a moment before turning on his heel and storming off. The man was lying to him, he knew it. Everyone in the village knew what would become of him after the Great Nation had called for his audience. They were going to sacrifice him, just like they had to everyone else of his kind, to the Great Dragon of the Sun. The god of their world. And it was within his duty to follow the will of his elders.
But they wanted to kill him.
Spinel sat on his cot, fiddling with a clay block in his hands. It was just a large chip off of one of their huts, nothing complicating. So it would be easy for him to do something with it, he thought. Biting his lip and furrowing his brows, he concentrated fully on the piece of earth. He hadn't so much have been able to move a rock of two. But he had read stories about great Earth Masters who could create palaces out of stone in mere seconds. How the Old Nations' best potters and architectures were Earth Masters. How his very own father had been one before he had left with the last of the Earth Masters fourteen winters ago only to be sacrificed to the Great Dragon of the Sun. Spinel thought of the love he had for his deceased father, and let all of those emotions run through his body, coursing through his veins. And for a second, the clay block began to tremble violently. But a crash caused the block to drop to the floor, as Spinel was startled. I looked up as his mother walked in, holding a handful of broken pottery pieces. She gave him a apologetic look, and smiled.
Spinel returned the smile to his beloved mother, and stood up to help her clean the mess. As they conversed, he spoke, but she nearly nodded or shook her head. Sometimes signing with her hands. Spinel was going to miss his mother greatly. She was not deaf, but mute. Having lost her voice to a grief of losing her husband, she had forgotten to use her words. But Spinel never angered of it. She was still his mother, and he loved her greatly.
After they finished cleaning, she sat on his bed with him, giving him a grand hug. He fought back the feeling of tears from his eyes. "I promise I'll come back, Mother." He swore. She nodded, and stood from the bed, leaving after she bid him a good night.
Later that night, Spinel laid on his cot and stared out at the stars. He had agreed to go, and would leave when the first of the sun touched the sky. But once he fell into his slumber, it was restless and filled with dreams.
A dark haired boy looked at him, and smiled. His teeth were perfect and white. His smile was grand and kind. It filled Spinels' heart with a thousand suns, and he reached for him. But he silently shook his head at Spinel and stepped away from his hands, pointing in the direction of the rising sun. They were both sitting on a sand dune, only a few feet away from each other, and yet Spinel felt like he was sitting in the presence of a king. He frowned at the mysterious boy, and looked at where he was pointing. In the far distance, just under the rising sun, was a black dot on the sand. When he looked back to the boy next to him, he was gone.
Quickly, Spinel jumped up, and ran towards the thing in the distance. It seemed to take years to reach it, and yet the sun stayed in it's place. When he finally caught up to it, he gasped, dropping to his knees. It was the same boy, but he was asleep, and half buried under sand. He had dried blood caked onto his head, and when he opened his eyes, they were a deep blue, just like Spinels'. In pain, he reached up and grabbed his arm, pulling Spinel closer.
Spinel screamed when he awoke and jumped out of his bed, reaching for his pack. He didn't understand what the dream really meant, but he was going to find out. It appeared as if his journey was going to begin just a few hours early. He stuffed a few loaves of bread into his pack, and ran out to saddle his large black horse. Once saddled, he jumped onto it's back, having already tied his pack to it's side. Without giving his village, and his mother, a second thought, he dug his heel into the steed and they ran off towards the gray skies. The sun was going to rise soon, and he needed to find that boy. But where? How could he find him? The only clue he had was that the boy was under the sun, in the desert.
As he rode on the sun began to get higher and heat of the day began to settle it. It was nothing he couldn't handle. He lived in the desert his whole life. But he wondered if the boy was going to bake alive or not.
And then, finally after a few hours of riding, Spinel came across him. Well, what he suspected of him. He saw a black dot far in the distance, and urged his horse on faster. As Spinel galloped through the sand, he saw the figure take notice of him. But then when the stranger started running in his direction, Spinel flinched as he tripped and fell face first into the sand. He normally wouldn't have worried, but something seemed off to him. The boy started sinking into the sand. Gasping, he came to a stop near him and leaped off of his horse, landing next to him. He was unconscious and was already half buried under the sand. Spinel couldn't get closer, or he'd start sinking as well. Biting his cheek nervously, Spinel placed his hands on the surface of the sand in front of him. Spinel began to concentrate on pulling the boy out, getting him above ground, and after a moment he felt warmth spread from his stomach, to his chest, up his arms, and then out through his fingers.
The boy abruptly stopped sinking into the sand. Spinel gave a sigh of relief and pushed his abilities a little further, using the sand to pull the boy towards him. When he was finally close enough Spinel threw his arms over him, grasping him tightly, and scrambled away from the sinking sand.
Spinel panted softly, feeling weary. As he always did after he used his abilities. But he had a strong hold on the boy in his arms. Spinel looked down at him, his chest rising up and down in rapid gasps of air.
Who was he?
A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for reading! I really hope you review! I really appreciate things like "Cool story" or "OMG MANSECKS" but it'd help me out if you told me what you'd like to see in the next chapter. Think of it as an interactive experience. My future chapters rely on your input! :DD