FIC: Destiny's Refuge

I've started a new story despite having a couple other works in progress. But Elden and Misham demanded I start their story. This story is set before anyone from Earth has come to Gliese. Even though this will be a short story, it's not complete yet. If you prefer to read finished stories, I've started posted completed stories on Wattpad. My profile is DizzyCricket2




Title: Destiny’s Refuge
Characters: Elden/Misham
Series: Another Life
POV: Elden


The noise swirled around him, attacking him from all sides. He lifted his hands to his ears. But the noise continued. Screams. Laughter. Crying. Squeals of excitement. Twitters of nervousness laughter. Then gasps of fear. They roared as loud as an angry beast. He pressed his hands against his ears harder. He squeezed his eyes shut. But the noise only grew louder.

Opening his eyes, he saw them all. All the children in the class. Staring at him in wide-eyed silence. The instructors looked at him with concern. Everyone seemed frozen in time. Everyone except him. He only wished he was frozen as well so that he wouldn’t feel so much.

He felt the fear in the room grow. The noise whipped around him. Anger mixed with the fear. He didn’t know what to do. Where to turn. In his confused terror, his bladder released soaking him from waist to feet. His humiliation warred with all of the other emotions.

The floor rushed up. His head hit the hardwood. Sweet blackness enveloped him. Finally, the noise stopped as he lost consciousness. When he woke, the noise was gone, replaced by strong arms carrying him. Protecting him.

The world shimmered as the vision receded. Elden felt the strong arms of his father around him as he bent over retching onto the ground. Sweat dripped down his face. His hands trembled as he reached up to wipe the moisture away.

“I have you, pais. Let it go. Deep breaths.” Rastus murmured.

His father’s voice did little to quell his roiling stomach, but his heart started to calm. Elden closed his eyes and leaned back against his father’s chest. He’d lost count of the number of times, they’d sat just like this. His father’s arms wrapped tightly around him while he recovered from yet another vision of the dark-haired man-child.

As his stomach started to settle down, his father held out a bota. “Drink.”

Elden thankfully took the small leather bag. He swallowed the cool, sweet liquid that his father had brought. Rastus had doctored the water with honey and chamomile. “Thank you, pateras.” He took another drink.

“It was the dark-eyed one again.” Rastus didn’t ask but stated.

Elden nodded as he took another drink. For as long as he could remember, he’d had visions of the child. He’d been given glimpses of the child as he’d grown into his teenage years and on to a young man. The vision of the one soul affected him more than any of his other visions. His stomach would rebel. Icy sweat would break out. His heart would race. And his heart would ache.

“The one where he wets himself,” Elden said flatly. All of his emotions had been spent in the vision. He took one last drink and handed the flask back to his father. He grimaced at the dirt his hand had left on it. “I’m sorry. I’ve gotten clay all over it.”

“Pais, I do not understand why you are using clay on your home. Nor, do I not understand why you are building so far from us. From the village. You are young yet. You can live with us for years to come.”

Elden stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Rastus was a submissive, but still his pateras. And Elden would always show respect to both of his fathers.

He addressed the clay first. “I know that most homes are built from wood. But something is driving the need for the clay.” Elden shrugged. “Maybe it is for those yet to come.”

“There’s a decade before they come to Gliese.” Rastus tried to dust some of the dried clay from the bag. “You build your house so far from us. And so small.”

“Rastus. Enough.” Sander’s deep voice was soft but stern. “Elden, are you recovered?”

Getting to his feet, Elden reached for the wall to steady himself. He turned to his other father. “Yes. It was the dark-eyed one. The vision I believe of his first day of school.”

Sander nodded. “That was your first vision. The one that takes the most out of you and lasts the longest. We came as soon as the moon started to rise. You were to be home hours ago.”

Startled, Elden looked around. The sun had just begun its descent toward the horizon when the vision had flowed over him. Now, everything was cast in the dim glow of the rising moon. Hours had passed as he watched the young boy live his terror. Elden felt a wave of gratitude for the instructors he’d had as he learned how to manage the visions. He’d learned how to be safe at the first shimmer of a vision. To step away from fire and other dangers. He’d learned to have something sturdy to lean on and to sit down. Elden could only imagine the muscle aches in his legs had he stood during the past hours. Even though he’d sat through the vision, his muscles ached. He needed rest.

“Let me place these inside and then we can go home.” Elden stumbled as he reached for the two buckets. He felt the strong hand of his father steady him.

“Be still. We will put them away. Stay here.” Sander bent to grasp the handle of the bucket. Then he straightened, a question in his eyes. “You are using MXene? To build your home? The cob is made of soil and water and straw. Why do you add the clay conductor?”

Gritting his teeth, Elden tried to explain. “I do not know. I’m just compelled to do so. I know it’s not been done before but....”. His voice trailed off. He knew he sounded odd but something was driving him to use the clay that ordinarily was used for the crystals.

His father nodded. “This will be the first, then. And one day, maybe we’ll know the reason.”

Elden watched as his father stepped inside his doorless cabin. A moment later, Sander was beside him again.

“Come. We’ll return home. You may rest after eating.”

At Sander’s command, Rastus put his arms around Elden, giving him support. They carefully made their way through the dark forest. Elden had cleared the path the spring before. He had known then that he needed to build his home far from their village. Lifting his eyes to the sky, Elden implored the stars to tell him why. But the bright points of lights stayed silent.

By the time they rounded the curve that led home, Elden no longer needed his father’s support. The night air cleared his head and gave strength to his muscles. As they approached their cabin, Sander held up a hand. Looking past him, Elden saw a group of people by their home.

“Stay here. I will see what they need.”

Elden rolled his eyes when his father, Rastus, stepped in front of him. Elden was taller and stronger than him but Rastus would always seek to protect his son.

Sander waved them over. As Elden walked closer he could see the glint of the moon off the metal fastenings of the men and women. They were a group of warriors from the village of Tarvos. The warriors passed through their village on their way to help with the harvest further south. He wondered why they had stopped here.

A large warrior stepped forward, his hand raised in the sign of peace. “Anke Sander, please forgive our intrusion. My name is Medwyn and we’ve been tasked with requesting a kindness of you.”

“Of course. Please, come in.” Sander opened the door, welcoming the group inside.

But the large warrior shook his head. “Your courtesy is noted, however, we’ve traveled a long way. We are hot and prefer the cool night air.”

Elden heard the others murmur agreement. He pushed down his exhaustion. He wanted to hear why these warriors had sought his father out.

“A Historian by the name of Timon is the mate of a warrior named Keena. Their son is ill. He has been sick for many years. They fear he will not live through another harsh Tarvos winter. Timon told us of the generosity of the Historians. He tasked me with finding ones who lived furthest from the village if they would be willing to let him winter in warmer climate.” Medwyn offered a satchel. “Timon and Keena offer payment. They are both skilled workers of metal.”

Elden looked to his father. Payment would never be the deciding factor. The ability to help another was an honor, yet, he’d be cautious of putting his family in danger.

“What is the illness that has lasted so many years?” Sander asked.

Medwyn turned to another warrior. The other warrior placed a folded piece of parchment in Medwyn’s hand. “Keena details all that is needed to know in this.”

“Please, your exhaustion is plain to hear in your voice. Come in and rest,” Rastus pleaded.

Elden saw the same exhaustion that his father did in the group of warriors. The journey from their village was a long, hard two days. The sun had set hours earlier and they still had several days to travel before they arrived at the harvest.

But the warrior shook his head. “We will make camp nearer the river. In the morning, we can leave before the sun rises without disturbing others.”

“Medwyn, my family and I will discuss the request of Timon and Keena. Be at peace knowing that their son will not suffer the harshness of Tarvos winter. If we can not give him safe harbor, we will find those that can.” Sander’s voice reverberated with promise.

Elden hid his smile. Yes, they would discuss the request, but Elden knew what the decision would be. He wondered where he’d put his snowshoes. He would need them on the journey to Tarvos.

End chapter 1

On to chapter 2