Thirsting First Thunder

Thirsting First Thunder was born to a moderately prosperous trading family. Their chief commodity was textiles and the accouterments that went with it such as beads and needles. His mother and father worked equally at their trade as well as individually amongst the people. It was not very difficult to observe however, that his mother was more skilled at her trade yet often went without the finery she sold and frequently walked amongst the platforms and bridges with a new bruise every once in a while.

Throughout his childhood Thunder would often find himself staying away from home for understandable reasons. Frequently he would be seen alone at the edge of the furthest outskirts, clinging to a tree and squeezing it for all he was worth, looking for the affection he couldn't find elsewhere. When other children would approach he would quickly run away, terrified of the beating he may incur.

It took a while for him to become accustomed to other children of course, and for this reason he was frequently picked on and berated and chosen last for any activity when the other children were given free rein. When Thirsting First Thunder was seven and only just beginning to learn the ways of being the man he'd grow up to be, he was presented with a baby sister.

For three years he nurtured and cared for a thing weaker than himself. For three years he grew to resent his parents for lacking the skills he so naturally came in to. Every day while he was off learning how to hunt and explore the various trades he might undertake he dreaded leaving her in their care. He was right to do so.

Many of the people who attended her funeral knew of the shortcomings in the family home, but were either too scared or too busy to do anything about it. I would suppose there are fewer people still who know the truth as I do about what changed in Thirsting First Thunder's heart that day.

I watched with him grow up with my own pair of children's eyes. At first I was intrigued about a boy that would not play with the others. I wondered what secrets he would whisper to the trees. I wondered what colors he saw the world in. As we grew up I started to wonder more things like what his smile might look like and how his cheek might feel against my lips. The happiness in his life while his sister lived and then the sorrow of her loss only bound me more tightly to him.

Throughout the next few years I tried my best to console him and to give him the space he needed while gently trying to infer that I was available to him should he make that choice. He seemed appreciative of the gesture and the attention, even moving on several occasions to hold my hand. He never really spoke much though and he always looked at things only he could see, hundreds of miles away. Sometimes there were tears but mostly there was hurt ... and rage.

Shortly after his fourteenth birthday he was presented with a special recognition by Elder Cobalt Monkey. Thirsting was a distinctive cut above the rest of his peers at hunting and woodsmanship. He was given a delicately carved statue showing him in action, carved with admiration by the Elder himself. It signified his desire of this chosen trade and most importantly it gave him hope that one day soon he'd be free of his past and he could start anew.

When he arrived home the presentation and subsequent statement that he would not continue in his father's footsteps did not sit at all well with the man. As a matter of fact, it did not sit at all. The hope I felt for Thunder while watching from a few paces away melted into horror as I watched the statue fall from the window of their home down, down, down to the forest floor. Then I heard the sound of a great scuffle and more breaking wood. I ran for the door but his mother reached it a step before I did and caught my eye then looked down and shut the door.

His broken arm took several months to heal. He trained with the rest of his body as vigorously as he could. The sorrow and hurt was gone. Now there seemed only rage. Thankfully (and blindly) I thought my presence soothed his vengeful spirit.

One day as I was coming back from further in the wood on my own training 'missions' I noticed him smiling greatly. I was so happy and excited to witness this event that I landed directly in front of him and smiled wide as well.

He said simply, "I am healed." Then he kissed me hard and held me tight against his chest.

The chasm of sorrow one might feel when one's parents are pronounced dead from missing for almost a year was understandably absent. As a matter of fact people tried to covertly congratulate Thirsting First Thunder on being able to start fresh while offering their condolences. Also, only a week before the announcement was made we had announced our engagement.

It was also during this time that I was coming into my own stride as a great hunter and master of the woods. Elder Cobalt Monkey would often tease us and make comments about our future children being monkeys, having come from the two greatest athletes of the woods. At certain times it enhanced our courtship. The goal of finding each other in the branches was often too desirable and strenuous to find our way back to our beds at night. The trees were our kind now, they were our support - quite literally. Sometimes though, Thirsting First Thunder had problems with his shame if I hid too well and had to come looking for him, or if I found him too quickly. Other times it seemed as if he'd disappeared altogether.

Speaking of disappearances, it was shortly after his parents disappearance that other started disappearing as well. To lose people in such a way is not unheard of and it wasn't on an epidemic scale, but it was still odd enough to notice. Those of us with skill amongst the trees searched vigorously and as time went on we came to suspect less and less that we'd find those missing.

One night, four days until our wedding, I discovered the truth. I was walking back from visiting with my mother and heard a faint struggle and a quick noise. I drew my bow and knocked an arrow while hurrying to where I'd heard it just in time to see Thunder render a man unconscious. I couldn't help myself and I gasped at what I'd seen.

When he turned to face me I didn't recognize my fiance. I didn't recognize him as he turned quickly and quietly on his heels, as he rose from his crouch and brought his weapon against me. It was too late to run when my gaze was forcibly removed by faltering instinct to focus on the weapon that was already coming down toward me.

When I awoke it was clearly daylight and my head was blazing with pain. I was in a dark burlap sack that was tied completely below me. My hands and feet were also bound within this cocoon. The only reason I didn't awake sooner was that I did not have the benefit until then of being dragged feet first through a rocky riverbed. The pounding of my head was doubled as it was dragged across large river stones. As I heard and felt the footfalls go up wooden stairs, I knew what was about to happen.

When we reached the end of the pier I tried to breathe deeply through the gag and wrestle with my bonds. My desperation was immediate and intense. I suppose Thirsting Asshole thought it would be fitting to 'bury' me with my bow. I can't call him an idiot though, since I couldn't reach it with bound hands. The only thing I could think to do was hold on. The only thing I could hold on to was him. As he dumped my soon-to-be corpse into the river I cradled his arm in the arches of my feet and yanked him down head over feet in front of me into the water.

For a few seconds I had my moment, but he delivered a blow to the proper part of my body that quickly expelled the air from my lungs. He was intent on not being discovered and actively pushed and held me down, underwater.

When my vision and my strength ebbed as far as I thought they could, it happened. I received my exaltation.

"Child of the Unconquered Sun" said a voice as deep and as green and great as the wood, "listen."

The sudden relaxation of my body was all the proof my soon-to-be ex-fiance needed and he started swimming to the shore. I lay still for what seemed like an hour, basking in the glory of Truth and Wisdom. It filled my lungs with the air of Divinity and I was given purpose.

My purpose is to be the Hand of the Will. For too long the world has spiraled into chaos and it has become too distasteful for Goodness. I was given a boon and a blessing at that moment when my eyes and my brain and my body were failing me. At the moment the voice stopped and I returned to my true surroundings my nature was revealed.

From the depths of the river came a great swelling like a large bullet splitting the river in two. Through my bonds and through the burlap I could see it clearly. When it met my skin I knew exactly what would happen.

In one movement the great bear engulfed me and rent my bonds and gently sat me upon its back. I continued through the motion to a crouching position and as it broke through the water I drew my bow and leapt into the air as high as I could. I wanted to get as high as I could so that he'd have time to see what was going on. He wouldn't understand it fully, I'd only let him get to the point when he realized the air in his lungs was all he'd ever get.

I retreated down the river a ways, away from the dock. I needed to hide and figure things out. I couldn't go home, not being 'anathema' and all. Yet I wanted to so badly - to see my family again and to tell them the evil was passed - to be amongst my things and weep. My life now serves a higher purpose now though and I must use my skill and my gifts to make things right again. And right by me again.