The Sorcerer's Lullaby [boyxboy]

Chapter Four

My shoes crunched on the crispy cold leaves as I made my way across the large side yard that rounded into the backyard where a couple of swings sat chained to a tree branch that stuck out from the woods. I walked over, touching the chains. I could feel the cold even through my gloves.

I sighed and plopped down onto the swing, listening to it squeak. I lifted my head to stare up at the branch, the leaves having fallen to the ground. Then I felt something wet on my nose. I blinked a couple times and I was surprised to see a couple snowflakes hit my nose.

Snow?

This far south?

Well, I suppose it made sense. The weather had become very strange since my time. My world was more structured and less chaotic when it came to weather patterns. We had no pollution permeating the air, destroying what the Goddess had worked hard to give us. Our homes were made of brick or cement. My cottage back in my homeland was very small and made of wood and mud that had to constantly be replaced.

But my cottage didn't last long.

It eventually fell apart. I didn't know how to take care of it on my own and the villagers pretended I didn't exist. Out of guilt, I knew as I walked the streets, much thinner than I was before my parents died. I still hadn't learned how to cook or prepare any kind of food, so I was picking grass and plants that I had seen in my mother's scrolls. The ones she put red dots by that meant they were safe. But I couldn't live on plants all my life. My stomach clenched and ached with hunger and I tried stealing food, but I was beat for it.

That was the only attention they gave me.

Otherwise, walking through town, they turned away from me. I saw the guilt in their eyes as they averted them from me, digging their teeth into their lower lips. Women turned their backs, tending to their children, who tried to get a good look at me past their mother's hands. Men just looked away and paid attention to more important things, like the next customer or their sheep.

They didn't care that my stomach was growling obnoxiously. They didn't care that my skin was starting to stretch over my bones or that my shoes had long since been torn apart, rendering them useless. This in turn made my feet filthy and bruised from stumbling around shoeless.

I hated these people, I really did. They were mindless drones and they weren't following a good man. A man who called himself a preacher. What was a preacher? What did he preach?

I stumbled into the town square, where my parents had been burned just months before. I watched the preacher man stand at the head of the crowd, holding his finger up toward the sky, indicating some sort of light. I lifted my eyes and squinted against the vicious sunlight that poured down on us, warming the village.

"Praise the Light and Its Glory! We have gone months without Shadow! Months without failure! Praise be the Light that protects us and shields our children from the Abomination! Come, my brothers and sisters! Let us speak the holy prayers to the Light!" He announced, the crowd murmuring and clasping their hands together tightly.

I frowned, waiting as everyone ducked their heads, murmuring repeats of the preacher's words. He then began what he called the Holy Gifts. He would ask people to approach and would place his hands upon their head, whispering prayers. He occasionally gave out food as well, handing out apricots and nuts and loaves of bread.

I watched as a crooked old crone came forward, collecting a loaf of bread and an apricot. She'd passed through the village more than twice before. She hobbled on a leg that was held straight with a tree branch. Her back was hunched and her body was old, but not ugly. She must have been beautiful when she was young. Her white hair hung in pearly curls around an aging face, her blue eyes peering out from under her hood.