Chapter 1 Pluviophile

The sky rumbled as I reached the peak as if it had been waiting for me. It was cool and the air was charged yet strangely serene. The mountains cast shadows over the already darkened colors of the lush range. Blackened clouds churned, thunder rolling within. The wind tousled the black bristles of my beard with a low whistle. The rounded rock beneath me felt plush compared to the gravel of the mountain path that led here. It probably would have been wise to wear shoes. The sky rumbled once more, indicating that its brewing was not a bluff. I took that as a sign that I should return home before the rain soaked me sick. The grass was wet with dew even before the light sprinkles of rain began to fall. My cotton tunic began to be coated with cold specks. It wasn’t a long way downhill to the cabin I lived in, humble as it was. The door creaked as it opened and barked a thud as it closed. I peeled my freshly wet tunic over my head and discarded it on the hardwood table. The fire made it much warmer inside and I pulled a chair beside it. The warmth it brought on my face made me want it on my back as well. I heard footsteps and saw Dove come in from her bedroom. Her skin was rather pale, yet her nose and cheeks were pink from the cold. Her raven black hair fell over her eyes long and a little frilly. It was unkept since she had nobody to impress all the way out here.

“Hi.”

Dove had a rather high voice, one known to me all my life. I glanced at her and saw her familiar amber eyes peering into my own eyes of the same color. The clichés about twins being able to read each other’s minds felt true with her. She spoke,

“Do you just like to stare or is there actually something going on in that head of yours?”

The reality of her sisterhood broke through my reflective affections and I ran a hand through my slightly damp hair to push it from my eyes. 

“You’re so charming all the time, Dove. It’s a wonder you don’t have any friends.”

I tease her as I try to hold back a grin.

“You’re such a wretch. I don’t have any friends because we live in the moutains.”

Dove crinkles her nose as she smiles. I see her pull up an old wooden chair and sit next to me, matching my gaze into the fireplace. The thrumming of the rain against the roof began to pick up and fill the silence. Dove held her palms out in front of her, studying them carefully. Wisps of smoke rose from them with a hiss as a thumb of cerulean flame came to life. I looked at the blue hue it cast across her features with a hint of worry in my throat as I spoke.

“You know I hate when you do that. What if someone saw?”

The patter of the rain grew louder.

“Nobody’s going to see, brother. You’ve made sure of that.”

The lines of her eyes were narrowed with annoyance and I scooted forward to the edge of my seat.

“I know I have. We’re out here for your protection.”

Stolen novel; please report.

She closes her palms, snuffing the flame with a hiss.

“You can be so overbearing, Sparrow. I’m a grown woman.”

“Just because you’re a grown woman doesn’t mean I’m going to stop taking care of you. I’m your brother.”

“How could I forget?”

The rain picks up even further. I looked out the window to get a better look at the storm. The wind whistled as the earth began to flood downhill.

“Do you think everyone in the village will be alright?”

Dove joined me in looking out the window as the storm grew ever more tempestuous. Lightning continually lanced across the gray horizon like brushstrokes, the rough peaks of the mountains framing its bleak and beautiful movements across the skyline.

“It couldn’t hurt for us to go check. What if it floods?”

She said in a low tone. I felt a little bit of a thrill in getting to go out into the storm during the rain.

“You should stay here, Dove. I’ll take care of it.”

Dove huffed, growing impatient with me.

“I’m coming with you. If it makes you feel better I’ll stay close and we can travel out of sight but I won’t stay.”

“Dove-“

“No. I get to do this.”

She plucks her cloak off the rack and drapes it around her, then turns back to me with folded arms. 

“Reckless girl.” 

I grab my own cloak and set out into the rain, much to my sister’s delight. Part of me was irked at the idea of having her along, but I had kept her locked away for a long time now. I suppose I owed her this much. Our boots squelched in the mud as we made our way through the chill of the rain and down the gravel mountain path.

*

In the nook of a valley between identical peaks of granite were the many thatch houses of the village. I walked past a lopsided wooden arrow sign which said in faded black lettering, “Underview”. The ground crunched beneath each of our footsteps and my short, dark hair grew damp from the rain. I rubbed away the water from the side of my bearded face worriedly as I watched for any unkind eyes that might be fixed on Dove. Her hood shaded her features and she seemed to be keeping quiet.

“It doesn’t look flooded to me.”

I comment. As we turned a vine covered corner there was a crowd of people in the town square gathered around a lowered banner. In the middle of the circle was a broad shouldered middle aged man clean shaven and well kept wearing silvery half plate armor. His hands were wrapped firmly around the rope poised to raise a man with a noose tied to his neck up alongside the banner. The accused man wore heavy robes and sat on his knees. His eyes were distant, as if there were something heavenly or fascinating in the place of the rock face he watched so intently. 

“Sparrow, who is that man in armor?”

“I couldn’t say, sister…”

The man spoke with a dignified, yet furious voice as he scanned through the crowd.

“TODAY WE DO OUR GOD A GREAT SERVICE! A SWEET JUSTICE WILL BE SERVED AND WE ARE ITS ARBITERS, GOOD PEOPLE!”

He jerked the rope downwards and the accused man gargled as he was pulled forcibly to the tips of his toes. The rope kept tension and the red banner caught wind, accenting the accused man’s struggle against his bound hands. I flinched at the sight and leaned down to mutter in Dove’s ear.

“We should leave. This was a bad idea.”

“We can’t just stand here and do nothing!”

The accuser continued and my pulse began to pound.

“WHAT A PERFECT HATRED FOR US TO EXACT! WHAT A BLESSING TO SPILL THE BLOOD OF THE WICKED!”

He pulled down on the rope even further, suspending the robed man into the air by his throat. His legs kicked desperately as his bound hands pawed uselessly at the noose around his neck. For a moment it seemed he would die, but the armored man let him drop back onto his knees to wheeze for breath. The villagers grunted and cheered calls of approval at the man’s torment. Dove looked up at me desperately.

“I’m putting a stop this, now.”

She starts to push through the crowd but I snatch her wrist roughly.

“Don’t.”

Her eyes are pleading and my grip loosens ever so slightly. I listen to the beating of the wind battered banner which nearly drowns out the gargles of the accused. I begrudgingly look back up to see the man being raised sharply to the very top of the banner. The wind and rain tousle the hair of the armored accuser as he stares up with squinted eyes and his forearms fully flexed with the weight of the hanging man. With a final choked breath, his fingertips crackle for a moment with pale lightning before he falls limp. The crowd of villagers jeer as the body falls back to the earth with a thud crying out in joy over the death of the apparent mage. Dove is covering her mouth with both hands in shock. My eyes look over the crowd and a few do not seem to cheer as brazenly as the others.

“He’s a Mageslayer. Dove, please, let’s get out of here.”

My voice is hoarse with urgency and I’m physically pulling on her arm. The jeering gets louder.

“That’s for the sons you stole!”

“Good riddance!”

Dove is still hesitant and in shock but she eventually nods and begins stalking away from the crowd close to my side. I glance back around my shoulder and meet the icy sharp gaze of the well kept Mageslayer. I quickly look away and shudder, taking my sister’s hand to walk faster. Good riddance indeed.