Adventures of Bo & Yuki <part1>
By <pen-name>: Kaira Peyton
© 2009-2020



Once upon a time - as most stories start out...there was a poor farm boy who lived on the outskirts of Srinagar. There, he was raised by his kindly old uncle, whom he helped crop weeds, raise animals for profit, and train horses.

The boy followed obediently alongside with his uncle, and obediently did he listen when he would say: "Boy, when the time comes that, that sun oar' there above the horizon," he points jerkily, "fails to rise; the rain no longer shares its tears; and my eyes can no longer drink the light, I want you to take yor' club or yor' hammer or what'sever ya' got on ya' and destroy my rock. And if he fails to do so, take m' rock and hide it. Boy hide it far beyond those mountains; throw it in the caves for all I care, but don't and I mean don't keep it with ya'." He said this with the upmost confidence, and scratched his thin beard at that.

The boy never did understand the words his uncle had been trying to say, but the time came for him, too soon.

It was a beautiful sunny morning - rare for one who'd come across Srinagar, and it was a day that will surely be remembered. The boy had just come back from the fields, and from all the tobacco he had planted that day, he'd surely appreciate a good nap. He lay his shovel on a decrepit wooden table against the wall and kicked his boots off carelessly. Maybe uncle would'nt mind a nap himself, he thought. But just as soon as he opened the door, he found his uncle lying on the floor, dumbstruck.

"Uncle!" he ran to the limp body and knelt by his side, "Uncle, what happened?"
"Boy don't go treat'n me like I can'ta handle myself! Let go! an' let me die."
"Oh uncle.."
"Now uh, remember what I us'd t'tell you b'fore? 'Bout me rock?" The boy nodded, ignoring the hot swelling building in his eyes. "Don't you forget it." He nodded again, and the man groaned.
"Uncle what can I do?"
"Let me be boy, and take this," he rummaged through his large brown coat with a limp arm, groaning several times before finally releasing a scratched blue silvery stone. "Take this an' destroy it, understand?"

The boy took the strange stone and nodded once more. "Boy am I proud to have called you son. Now do me will and let me be." His breathing sharpened and his eyes worn lazy and tired. The boy hugged the stone against his stomach and squeezed it, afraid it would just simply vanish with his uncle. He knew that his uncle was dying, for he was indeed very old and weary. But he- only a boy- did not yet understand the importance of this moment knew very well what death was.

He sank his head on his hands and wept. He wept until there were no more tears and his uncle was fast asleep.

"I love you uncle," he whispered at last. Then he got up in numb legs, and with one last glance towards his uncle's corps, he turned away and left the house. He didn't know what to do now, where to go, whom to live with, and suddenly he remembered the stone in his hands.

Interesting, he thought. It was indeed an interesting stone after all. The dark blue and purple blotches that reminded him of bruises seemed to prove that; and no other stone could be as large and as silvery as this. There was also a certain spark to it that he couldn't figure out. Like a faint glow in the center of the stone.

'Destroy my rock boy, destroy it,' his uncle's voice echoed in his head and decided at last what he must do. He took a hammer, coincidentally next to him, and with one great huff, he banged the head of the hammer over the stone.

"Ah!" He flinched, for the stone made an awful screeching noise as soon as the hammer hit the surface. He dared not do it again after that, and threw the hammer away, feeling exasperated.

He leaned back, almost on the verge of tears again, and watched ahead beyond the mountains. Click. He heard something indistinct. Click Clack. His head jerked up swiftly and stared at the stone. It was...hatching. No it couldn't be. Rocks don't hatch, so he thought. Unless it was no rock at all. He crawled towards the stone at once and examined it. There was indeed a crack in the center; exactly where his hammer had hit. The cracks grew slowly and vaguely, becoming more audible each second.

And suddenly, just as swift as his heart was beating at the moment, a hole was punched through, and a piece of the stone flew towards him. He ducked at once of course, and slowly, afraid of what he might see, he took a peek at the stone. There was a black-ish knife gnawing at the hole. No - claws. Amazing! He thought. It must be some sort of reptile or lizard, according to the unusually distinct large scales that were now trailing with the claws.