Hope's Flight (temporarily on hold)

Chapter 4:

Liam woke to the sound of thunder. Panicked, he searched for the source of the noise. After checking every room of his home and finding nothing out of place, he ran outside. It seemed to him that every resident of New Hope was gathered in the square. Water seemed to be falling from the sky.

"What's happening?" he asked the crowd at large.

"Rain," answered Mrs. Biele excitedly before she noticed Liam.

"Rain?" he asked. "It never rains," he said.

The crowd had started to move away from him.  Their rejection stemmed from superstition more than fact. Liam served as the town's undertaker, just as his father and grandfather had before him. As hybrids, the villagers possessed the capacity for nearly endless life in spite of their mortality, but conditions in New Hope caused more and more of them to die each year. He was an obvious target for their fear and blame, and he tried not to resent them for it.

He told himself that their silly superstitions could not hurt him, but it sometimes stung when they treated him as though he was simple-minded just for being quiet. Of course I'm quiet, he thought. I've got no one to talk to.

He looked around at the townspeople who were talking amongst themselves eagerly. He sighed. If he wanted answers, he'd have to go to the only person who would talk to him; the only person the townspeople avoided more. Cecelia would tell him what was happening.

He went back inside for his coat and boots. He had a few supplies he'd been meaning to take up to the old telepath, anyway, so he stuffed them into a pack before setting out on the long, treacherous hike.

He passed through the throngs of people like a living shadow. They parted for him silently as he made his way through the square towards the foothills of The Great Mountains. They pulled away from him as though he was death himself, rather than a humble servant.

As he approached the edge of the village, a small form crept out of the shadows. In the dim light and shifting shadows cast by the rain and lightning, it took him a moment to identify the terrified child. "Margo, what are you doing out here alone?"

Margo recoiled as she recognized Liam. Her fear pierced his heart. He adored children, and so their hatred hurt him the most.

"Your mother is in the square with the others," he said, stepping aside to give Margo room to pass. "You should go find her."

He watched from the shadows until he was sure that she was safe with the others. Children were far too precious to be left unattended.

****

Paul watched the rain from the window of his study. It fell in torrents, pushed by a driving northern wind. It had been more than five hundred years since the last pitiful shower fell on Elysion. Like everyone else, he'd grown accustomed to the thick, dreary clouds that blocked out most of the sunlight without ever dropping their precious water to the ground.

The tallest peaks of The Great Mountains pierced the cloud cover, and allowed water to condense there and trickle down to Hope's End below. This water was the source of New Hope's relative prosperity. Few villages remained on Elysion beyond this valley. As mayor of New Hope, he held a position of great power. The rain could threaten his status.

He grumbled to himself as he watched the lightning strike yet again. The storm seemed to start just over the lake, and he knew he needed to investigate, but he could hardly afford to hike up there himself when the people in town would certainly be looking to him for answers. He needed a trusted lieutenant to send up the rocky trail. Trust was not something Paul handed out lightly.

He waved his hand over the lightstones on his desk and was nearly blinded by the sudden illumination. He was certain they glowed brighter and lit faster than they had before, and this could only mean one thing; magical power had returned to this realm. He hoped he was imagining the intense brightness for a moment, but he was not a man to live in denial.

Rain was bad news for Paul, but renewed magic was worse.

He seated himself heavily behind his desk and hung his head in his hands.

"Father?" asked Lane from the door. "Are you alright?"

He gazed at his only child for a few moments as he thought. Lane had been his pride and joy in the beginning. His proven fertility had helped earn him the respect of the townspeople, but at two hundred years old, it was clear that Lane was barren like most people on Elysion. He tried to hide his shame and disappointment in her, but at times it nearly choked him. If only she'd managed to give him a grandchild, he was certain that his standing in the village would be unshakeable. She may as well prove herself useful now.

"I need you to go up to Hope's End, darling," he said to her. "Find out all that you can about what happened before this storm. Talk to the crone and look around."

"Father!?" she exclaimed. "You told me never to go up there." She looked frightened and confused. "You said the lake is cursed and the crone is a monster."

"Do it!" he snarled, "or I'll show you what a real monster looks like." He slammed his fists on the desk, sending papers flying.

At the sight of her father's anger, Lane backed into the hallway. "Yes, sir," she answered meekly.

****

Cecelia had told her that New Hope had few visitors, and Hope wondered how few.

"None," said Cecelia. "And not just New Hope, all of Elysion has been shut off for more than seven hundred years."

Hope considered this information. It certainly put her in an uncomfortable position. She thought it would be next to impossible to pass for a native.

"Completely impossible," Cecelia corrected. "We have so few new births in this realm that any child would certainly be recognized." She eyed Hope carefully. "You're no child," she said, "but you're certainly young enough to be recognized easily as an outsider."

Hope sighed. She was physically exhausted and emotionally drained. She needed a few more hours of sleep before she could deal with her current situation.

Cecelia heaved another log onto the fire and smoothed the blankets Hope had slept on before. "Lie down, child. You'll need your strength."

****