For a Better World by Ellynn  

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Chapter 2

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Wooden animals. Rounds. The playing items. Fortresses. The images were swirling in his mind from dawn til dusk. And at night, he started dreaming about them. Oh, how he wanted to have them!

The problem was – he had never had anything like that. It simply had not existed.

He mulled over it for three full days. And then, on the fourth day, he didn’t join the other boys. They were the only ones playing anyway. He... well, not really. Currently, he was sporting new bruises on his face and arms from yesterday’s game.

“Hey Murtash! Today we are playing a game in which you and your stupid little brother will play humans. You will be our slaves!”

The voice belonged to Shozrac, a boy with curly hair bouncing around his head as he shook with laughter. Shozrac was bigger than him, just like all the other boys of his age. Only the younger boys were smaller, and not all of them even then. Sugrod, one of the younger ones – a six-year-old – immediately stepped up beside Shozrac. And even Sugrod was already as tall as him.

“Yeeesss!” shouted Sugrod, grinning.

“Come now maggot, bring us some food and water!” shouted someone else.

He tried to quickly come up with an excuse, but to no avail.

“You are too slow, you shit!!!”

Shozrac’s blow followed those words. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, face pressed into the dirt. The dust made him cough. His eyes filled with grit, and his vision blurred to the shadows around him.

Another strike.

Damn you! I hate you all! I will kill you!!!

Heh, if only doing it were as easy as thinking it.

He tried to fight back. He swayed – and missed. As well as the next time. Not that there was enough strength in him to fight anyway. He was too small. Just like Uldut, his younger brother.

Even if he hadn’t been the smallest among the boys of his age, even if he hadn’t been their punching bag... Was there nothing but running and fighting? No. Not any longer – not now that he knew there were many ways to play that were far more interesting. So many other kinds of games! All sorts! With playthings!

He wanted to play. Yes. Therefore, he was going to do something completely different today, and he would not join the boys. He nodded, firmly clenching his fists.

Well, if something did not exist, he would make it.

His path first took him past the barracks where females were stitching clothes and crafting leather wares, yet he saw nothing that might serve his purpose. He moved on, soon stumbling upon the smithy; the smith, he had learned, was the one who fashioned things from metal. Knives, swords, axe heads and spear tips. His smithy, nestled in the part of the village where the other workshops stood, was the birthplace of all these wares. It had three walls, while on the fourth side, facing the path, it stood entirely open. Crouching behind one of the side walls, he peeked inside.

Even from a few paces away – and not his short strides, but those of the tallest grown males – the heat of the great fire warmed his cheeks and nose. The air thrummed with the clang of steel. The smith’s broad back and even broader shoulders glistened with sweat as his massive arm raised and lowered the great hammer, muscles moving beneath bare skin.

Countless objects were lying around – both tools and the smith’s unfinished items – most of which he couldn’t even name. Yet one thing was immediately clear to him: nearly all of them were made of metal. Metal, of course, was hard, unyielding; he couldn’t bend or shape it with his hands. No, there was nothing he could do with it. Only the smith could, with his fires and hammers – some of which were as large as himself!

Yes, nearly everything here was metal. But as he lurked behind the wall, his gaze fell upon the fire. A grin split his face, and his eyes gleamed. Yes, fire! For fire to burn, it needed wood! And wood, especially tiny twigs, was soft. That’s right, that was what he needed. The smith must surely keep a store of wood somewhere here. His eyes darted around the interior, scanning each wall and corner. There! There they were!

Now, how to get those twigs...

If he asked – and if the smith was in a foul mood – this might not end well for him. He frowned, but brightened just as quickly. The wood was stacked against the wall behind the smith’s back. If he kept quiet and quickly snatched a few branches, maybe the smith, absorbed in his work, wouldn’t even spot him mid-hammering.

He stepped inside, eyes locked on the smith’s broad back. He moved slowly and silently, his back hunched, to seem even smaller and more invisible. But only halfway to his goal, he spotted another male there. The other one sat across from the smith, watching the master at work, hidden from view until now. And now, the male noticed him too.

“Kizat, you’ve got a visitor,” said the seated male, leaning forward and glaring at him. Male’s curly hair reminded him of Shozrac. In fact, aside from Shozrac, this was the only person in the village with curls he’d ever seen. Everyone else had straight hair – him included.

The male’s face was scarred, and his eyes were darker than usually found among their people – not yellow, but almost red. Dark, and menacing.

He froze, and his heart began hammering wildly.

The smith slowly turned. His broken nose sat crooked, and up close, his hands looked even more massive. He stepped forward, lowering his other hand to grip the great hammer’s handle, squeezing it tight. His eyes narrowed into mean slits, and a growl rumbled from his throat.

His gut twisted. Oh nooo! Who cared about twigs at a moment like this!!! The only thing that mattered was avoiding a beating – or worse. He spun on his heel and started sprinting as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Run run run!!!

A roar of laughter trailed behind him.

“Hahahaha, we got him!”

“Hahaha, I bet he pissed himself too!!!”

He stopped several barracks away, almost reaching the main square. He was breathing hard and was still trembling all over. Well, at least he hadn’t actually pissed himself. And he hadn’t gotten beaten. But the problem remained – he was no closer to his goal. Tears welled up, but he wiped them away quickly, stifling the next wave. He wasn’t some little girl crying over nothing.

Lingering at the square’s edge, he scanned the scene. Evening was falling, and the main square buzzed with males of all ages – boys just old enough to start sword drills, as well as elders with weathered faces. Loud voices and shouting filled the air. Everyone was moving in the same direction: toward the other square, the one bordering the females’ part of the village, where there were kitchens and where everyone had their meals. Suppertime was nearing and the males were heading to claim the meals the females had prepared all afternoon.

The kitchens! There’d be fire there. Surely there was, for cooking. Which also meant wood. Yes, maybe his luck would turn there.

He spun, taking a longer route and weaving through side alleys to avoid the crowd. His step was quick and light. Almost there!

Indeed, he quickly found what he was looking for and jumped up with delight. The females were too busy finishing dinner and hauling pots and platters to the long tables where they served the food. None of them noticed the tiny shadow slipping behind them and darting toward their stock of wood. Oh, an advantage of being small for once! He picked out a few twigs and stuffed them into the pockets of his baggy trousers.

Slipping out of the kitchens, he found himself back in the food-square. Though, he felt more like being in a big hall than in an open space, as most of the benches and tables were sheltered – so that they were protected from the rain in the days with bad weather. And now that he was here, the smell of supper hit him like a wall. The smell of roasted meat was great and his stomach growled loud enough to rival... hmmm... a troll’s appetite! He giggled. Not that he’d ever seen a troll. He had no idea what they looked like. But he had heard the stories several times, stories told by the grown-ups. “Twice our size!” some claimed. “Twice, y’ say? Three times, if you ask me!!!”

Even twice an adult’s size was enough to make his eyes pop. And three times?! These trolls must’ve been monstrous. And right now he was hungry enough to eat like the largest of trolls, he concluded with a watering mouth. True, he’d get his evening meal later at his mother’s hut, but maybe he could try to sneak a bite now...

He walked towards the nearest line. Ahead of him everyone shouted and shoved, and then one of the boys at the end of the line turned and pushed him hard. He flew backwards and landed flat on his back.

“Hahaha!”

Another boy from the group stepped forward and kicked him. “What are you doing here, runt?”

“This supper is only for adults! Real ones!” jeered the third boy. This one also attempted to strike him but missed because he was already on his feet and backing away.

It was evident these boys were scarcely a year his senior. Yet that mere year meant they had started their sword training – they were becoming adults while he was still just a child. And they were bigger than him.

And so – retreat was the only sensible option.

“That’s right, run back to your mummy and hide behind her skirt!”

“And then we’ll get under her skirt!!!”

The laughter grew louder behind him.

He ran without looking back. The row of huts where he lived was not far. After reaching it and shutting the door behind him, he finally relaxed; it felt peaceful here. Sort of. If you ignored the screaming of his two-year-old sister, who was just wrestling with three other kids from their hut. They were rolling around on the rag-covered floor where they usually slept.

But, well, at least these little ones weren’t any danger to him. Yes, it was peaceful.

One might add that it was also peaceful when mother hadn’t had too much of that strong drink the grown-ups called booze, made by humans for their masters – for his people. She’d kick anything nearby when she drank, so you learnt to stay out of her way. What was in that drink anyway? Nearly all the adults drank it – some more than the others. And when they drank too much, they couldn’t properly walk or talk. After that, can anyone expect him to believe the grown-ups aren’t crazy?

Would he be like that if he drank it? But he hadn’t had the chance to do it, for mother kept her flasks well hidden.

It was also peaceful during the day, when males weren’t coming to see Ugda and the other three females – which they did every evening. But sometimes they did come even during the day. When males were around, you had to curl up in your corner and not move until they left. Better yet, make yourself disappear for a while. Otherwise, getting in their way... it never ended well.

He scratched his head. Actually, when he thought about it, peace was hard to come by.

-x-x-x-

He kept the twigs in one pocket, while the other pocket held the small knife he had found in his hut and several thin strips of leather and cloth. The latter he managed to get from a female at the sewing shop by asking nicely. Yes! Now he had everything.

Next step – he needed a quiet spot. A place where no one would push him about, or worse, ruin his precious possessions. For example, break the twigs or tear the strips. Just for fun. A place like that could only be found outside the village.

He’d go up towards the hills, to the side the grown-ups called north. He nodded to himself. Yes, that was the best choice. In fact, the only choice. The only spot where he might find proper cover without being seen. Any other direction – the meadows and fields – was no good for this purpose.

North... It was significant for his people; he’d been hearing that since he could remember. Far up north, so far he could not even repeat the numbers the adults said, let alone understand the distance – might as well be another world for all he knew – that’s where their Supreme Master lived. In that huge fortress of his. What was it called... ah, yes, Lugburz. Yes, that’s what the adults called it.

But never mind that; right now, the only north that mattered was this one within reach. There were gentle slopes rising above the village with their scattered trees and shrubs; here, they were sparse and scrubby, and the proper forest grew in the distance. But even here near the village, there was enough vegetation to provide some shelter and peace.

Reaching the first bushes, he stopped dead. Oh, warg’s ass! He smacked his forehead. Murtash, you idiot! Instead of scrabbling about the village for twigs, he could have just picked them here all along.

Next time.

He looked around. Some bushes and trees bore dark green, nearly black leaves, while others stood bare. The branches were knotted, twisting at odd angles, and some of them reaching downward. They bent and swayed as if they wanted to grab anyone passing by – snatch up little boys and stuff them into maws hidden among the leaves.

One brushed against him, and he yelped. His heart pounded wildly. Then a few leaves on the ground skittered and one flew at him, and he laughed. Wind! It was only the wind! The wind was the one moving the branch.

Shozrac would laugh himself sick if he knew how scared he had been, as all the boys would... They would call him a little girl. A piece of shit. A coward. He could almost hear their taunting voices.

He heard them every day.

Settling on the ground by the bush, a good ten paces from the nearest tree – better safe than sorry, in case of those hidden hungry mouths in the canopies – he got to work.

He was connecting the twigs, bending them, tying, then untying them when unsatisfied and starting afresh. He was holding his breath, he wasn’t blinking. More than once, everything came loose and fell apart. Aarrrghhh!!! So he’d gather the scattered twigs and begin again. Only for it to collapse once more. Nooo!!! Shit!!!

But he persisted.

And then, at last... uhm... Yes, it is finished! Yesss!!!

Alright, truth be told, his creation bore little resemblance to what he’d seen the human offspring in the cage had. That object was made from a single piece of wood – smooth and symmetrical – with a clearly recognisable head, body, tail, and four identical legs.

His animal was a jumble of knotted twigs, crooked and bumpy. It sported extra tails – having the actual tail-twig plus the binding strips he had used. In addition, the leg-twigs were tied at odd angles – he hadn’t managed to make two alike, let alone three or all four – and they were all different in length. So his creature stood lopsided. Like those adults who had drunk too much booze and couldn’t stand straight, much less walk in a straight line. And the head was made of a few more twigs bound together, just shorter than those forming the body – who had ever seen a head bigger than the body?!?!  – and despite all his efforts, he did not manage to bind in a straight position, but it stubbornly listed leftwards.

The wooden cow from the human child might have been scrawny, but it was a proper one. This thing he had made resembled no cow or pig he had ever seen, and surely no real animal stood this crooked. But... but it was his. He made it, with his own two hands.

He grinned, and his whole belly fluttered with excitement. He clapped for himself, bouncing on the spot. He did it!!!

-x-x-x-

He stood before the door. Now that the moment had come, he felt a knot in his stomach.

Come on Murtash, be brave!

He could not move.

What’s got into you, Murtash? You’ve been there before!

True enough, he had. That first time, several days ago, had been a pure chance: he’d been running from a beating and simply happened to turn eastwards. Finding himself already halfway to the cage, he had carried on. Who could resist discovering something new?

His subsequent visits had not been accidental. He wanted to watch them play and went there to do just that.

Tonight was no different. He was going just to see some more of their playthings.

Except it was different. This time he wanted more than looking. He wanted to ask. To talk. Now that he thought about it... He frowned. No, the adults wouldn’t approve spending time with humans. Humans were slaves, bound to labour for his people, obeying commands. Lesser beings, really. Not that he had ever bothered much to figure it out, but he roughly understood that things worked that way. Now, the fact that he wanted to chat about playing items, rather than the things the grown-ups held important... well, the grown-ups might not understand. Then again, they hardly understood anything.

Mid-day had been at least two hours ago. Or maybe three. Or even four. He wasn’t exactly skilled at tracking time. Regardless, evening was slowly approaching, so if he meant to go, it had to be now. Delay, and he would have to wait until tomorrow – and he didn’t want that. He wanted to compare the playing items immediately!

Therefore he stepped forward and reached for the latch.

“Muwty?”

His hand froze mid-air. That little pest! He turned and glared at his brother.

“Whewe are you going? Can I go with you?”

He bared his teeth and growled. He had no time for a hindrance in the shape of a four-year-old kid who was still toddling rather than walking. And even Uldut’s fastest walking pace was barely half of his own.

“No you can’t. Scram!”

“Oh.”

Uldut’s lips trembled, his little head drooping forward. The little one sniffled, and a shiny streak appeared on his muddy cheek. And then another.

He just had to turn around, walk out, and head for his goal.

Move, Murtash.

Yet he remained rooted to the spot. Why couldn’t he bear to see this? Why this sudden urge to see his brother smile? He had no a clue.

How to cheer him up? Well, taking him along would work, but that was out of the question. Perhaps some other way...

But, wait! Hmm... What would happen if he tried...that?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

“Uldy?”

The kid sniffed once more and slowly lifted his head. In the dim light, Uldut’s eyes looked almost dark brown. And so sad.

The motion came easily; the memory was vivid in his mind. He spread his arms. “Come here.”

Uldut eyed him with wary confusion, but took one wobbly step. Then another – until he stood flush against him. And then he folded his arms around the tiny frame.

He didn’t squeeze tight; the twig-creature tucked under his tunic already pressed uncomfortably into his ribs, and even this light squeezing pushed it deeper into his skin. But... it didn’t matter now. He blinked, exhaling sharply. Oh! This warmth of his brother’s body was somehow... nice. Also nice was some sudden and inexplicable fluttering sensation in his chest. A different kind of warmth. Oh... this felt cosy.

He didn’t let go of his brother. Yes, this felt good.

Uldut’s whimpers ceased. First it turned into giggles, then delighted laughter. And then small arms spread wide in response, squeezing him back.

Oh!!! The warmth. Inside and out.

But... Oh, no, ouch! Ah well, thank goodness four-year-olds aren’t terribly strong. He eased back slightly, relieving the pressure of knotted twigs digging into his belly. But he remained close, and kept one hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“You can’t come with me now. But we will do something else together. Tomorrow. Maybe... maybe...” He startled, eyes widening. “I’ll give you something to use for playing! Something new!”

The mention of play, and especially the mention of something new, worked instantly. Uldut’s head bobbed with frantic nods. And before the little one could demand details, he spun away and dashed outside, and immediately looked at the sky. It was still daylight, but the clouds were deepening their colour towards dusk. Perfect timing for his plan. The wind was blowing, but it wasn’t so cold.

He looked around. Several females were heading to the kitchens, and there were no males in sight. Taking a deep breath, he moved towards the end of the village. Once in open space, he feigned going north toward the stream. Sensible camouflage; if any grown-ups spotted him marching towards the humans’ cage, it would be hard to find a proper excuse. Playing. Nothing odd with that, right? But the grown-ups wouldn’t understand. And this way, even if someone saw him going towards the stream, it wouldn’t raise any suspicion. Both adults and children went there sometimes, for different reasons.

Luckily, there was no one in sight. He came near the stream, and then pivoted east. His pace quickened, and he was chuckling to himself.

Step by step... Halfway there.

Far south on the horizon something flickered. He stopped and turned his head. For a few moments nothing happened, and then there was another flash in the nearly black clouds. And another. He shuddered. A storm. That thing when evil gods want to claim their land and kill them, and the Supreme Master protects their people from them. Their battle raged, somewhere distant and high above. And when the gods clashed, the world roared with the sound and terrible lightning struck. Luckily, the Master is strong. He can defeat anyone.

The Supreme Master. He mused, and tilted his head. How grand it would be to see him once, at least from afar. His gaze drifted northward, wistful. And then the twig-creature shifted under his tunic and scratched his belly.

Playing. Yes. Meeting the Master – perhaps one day. Now – playtime. He continued walking, faster than before.

Three-quarters there! He grinned. The goal is near!

He came near the cage, and everything seemed as usual. The huts, smoke rising, squeals and children darting about. But his focus was on something much closer to him, by the fence. Under the iron-grey sky, amid dun barracks and dark steel fence, there was a bright spot. The bright-yellow hair of that human child.

Yay!

Getting closer now, he slowed down. The human whelp sat scratching lines in dirt with a stick, and its lips were moving; obviously, it was still unaware of his presence. As he got to the fence, he heard the words spoken by the child, but he didn’t understand anything. What kind of language was that?!

Beside the child, there lay a wooden figure. It was definitely not an animal this time, but a human-shaped figure with arms and legs. And that was not all! It had a piece of cloth over the upper body and another one over the lower part, mimicking the baggy clothes the females wore, which they called skirts.

A plaything that even had clothes?! By warg’s ass, how was that possible?!?!

He took a deep breath.

“Don’t go away this time.”