IT WAS A STORMY NIGHT.

The rain was pouring in sheets, sprinkling the matted fur over B’jorn’s body every once in a while. With every thunderclap that lit the churning skies, he could see the trees surrounding Sakoe bending and shuddering with the force of the wind. It was, indeed, quite an intense storm for this time of the year.

Or at least that is what his parents had said on their way here.

There was another thunderclap followed by the lightning hitting a tree far away in the distance, its dying screech audible even in the raging storm. Bjorn quietly chuckled, sitting on the porch of Uncle Kaizer and Aunt Viona’s residence. The little one was getting quite a reception from the gods it seemed.

Then he turned, moving to set the curtain aside to have another peek.

Sounds of wailing instantly greeted him, aunt Viona was still at it, and he could just barely make out the horned silhouette of his mother from the further room who was helping her.

His father stood cross-armed with his eyes closed as if in a very deep thought, leaning against the hallway’s wall. Uncle Kaizer, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“What a bastard!!” His father had said, the moment all of them had reached here “His wife is in labor, where is that fool!??”

B’jorn supposed his father didn’t know that Uncle Kaizer was a hero. That he was probably even now, saving some helpless village from annihilation at the hands of evildoers. Also, who knew, maybe he would appear. It wasn’t impossible for a hero like him.

“B’jorn!!” His father rumbled, “What did I tell you?”

“Right!!” B’jorn said and ducked back out onto the porch.

It was not like he wasn’t aware of what was happening or that he could not hear the screams from outside if he so chose to, but who was going to bother explaining that to his parents?

B’jorn sat back on the porch, hard, and puffed out his cheeks. Soon, his hooved foot started tapping the wooden boards underneath. He had been very excited when he had come, his father had promised that they were going to get him a little friend to play with. Alas, he had no idea that it was going to take this long. Couldn’t the baby hurry a little?

Even the storm that had seemed initially very intriguing was losing its charm.

B’jorn yawned, putting his head against the side of the doorway.

Hurry up, Little one! He thought I don’t wanna miss getting to see you, as the night finally took him.

It was sometime during the night when he woke up again. Feeling discomforted. He didn’t know how much time had gone by. There was no way to tell. It was still dark.

As he started to regain his senses, albeit still a little groggy, he could feel something had changed. But what was it?

He groaned as he stretched and then his eyes just flew wide open.

The screams had stopped. Did it mean… Did it mean the little baby was here? B’jorn’s pulse sped up. He quickly got up, rubbing his eyes and bovine face clean. All the drowsiness he had been feeling the whole night was suddenly gone, replaced by this sense of wonder and curiosity. But as he was just about to reach out for the curtain again, he heard a weird thudding sound, followed by his father's voice. It made him stop.

“Eva, What happened? And wait, is that…”

Then a silence followed.

With his sharp senses, B’jorn could just make out someone crying in the background.

Aunt Viona? Was everything all right? Was the child…

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Suddenly, B’jorn could not decide if he should enter or stay where he was, the moment seemed too still, too fragile. Like a glass veil had coated the entire world, and it could shatter if anyone moved even a fraction of an inch.

B’jorn realized, as he stood frozen there, that while he was asleep the storm had seized behind him. There was only a sense of calm left behind, and it felt as if the entire world was holding its breath.

Just then a single draft of wind hit the curtain blocking his vision, moving it aside for a second and B’jorn got a glimpse of what had truly happened.

Uncle Kaizer had returned, and stood in the hallway with his splendid silver armour and white cape, holding his child, living and breathing, wrapped in a blanket. Tired and barely standing Viona stood facing him with a shocked expression on her face on seeing him return so early. Tears constantly streamed down her fair human cheeks as she looked over at her husband standing with his child. B’jorn could not completely fathom what went around in older people’s heads but he summarized that these must be the tears of joy the adults sometimes talked about.

The awful dread he felt lifted off him, and he rushed in to join the others.

As he did, he saw Uncle Kaizer offering the child back to Aunt Viona, whose tired hand shakily went up toward the child and stopped, just an inch before touching his face. In the dim light of the lamps, B’jorn could see an unreadable expression on her face that, as much as he tried, could not decipher. His own parents stood to the side looking seriously at each other.

B’jorn could not shake the feeling that he was being left out of the loop. But he was too excited to care. He went to his father and urged him to pick him up, so he could have a clear look at the baby. He did.

The little boy was cute, very cute in fact for a human baby, if not as much as a Minatour like him would’ve been. But he seemed like he would make a fine brother. He was flailing his little arms and legs around trying to reach for the hand Viona had stretched forward.

Another gust of wind hit the curtain making it flutter noisily in the silent room, the lights in the rooms, agitated by the wind, suddenly danced wildly, hitting an angle where his eyes became visible, beautiful purple, eyes, that looked lovingly at Viona as delighted childlike noises escaped his little mouth.

Viona looked at the child for a moment longer and then looked up at her husband who remained sullen and silent. Her tired hand started dropping back down.

But before it could, the child caught it. He was only capable of getting hold of a few fingers of hers, but the moment the contact was made, her hand stopped, as if reinvigorated by the touch. The baby started giggling and chewing on her fingers as if he had found the world. Viona almost melted. She rushed in closer and took him in her arms as another hysterical sob escaped her lips. She slumped down to the floor holding the baby, rocking him back and forth as she hugged and kissed him.

B’jorn took this chance and scuttled off his father’s arms and went behind Aunt Viona, where he could see the baby’s face. His eyes instantly gravitated towards B’jorn, apparently finding him the next most interesting item in the room and again, he started flailing his hands trying to reach him. B’jorn complied with the little one’s wishes and went near him. He grabbed B’jorn’s horns and giggled even louder.

For a moment all B’jorn could do was look slack-jawed at the little goofball, he found it hard to comprehend what he felt, but it felt akin to getting a new toy, playing in the woods, wrestling with his dad, talking with animals, and everything he loved doing, rolled into one.

B’jorn started laughing with him.

All of a sudden, the awkward tension that he had felt upon entering the room had fully disappeared. Both of his parents and Uncle Kaizer were smiling, as if that one giggle of that baby boy was enough to sort out all their problems.

And that was how B’jorn met his little brother for the first time. Little Hammie. Hamend Stormborn. Otherwise known as Ham, son of Kaizer Silverdragon Stormborn and the greatest hero of the realm.