Chapter 4
"That'n looks like a cake!"
"Stupid, every cloud looks like a cake to you."
"I'm hungry..."
Crawa sighed and kicked her heels at the tile. She and Garaf had been spending plenty of time on the roof during the past few weeks, when the sun had been shining nearly non-stop. Although she wasn't supposed to be up there, she was beginning to enjoy the warm and quiet retreat from the world below.
"Hey... didn't Mister Esslar give you work to do today?"
"Yep."
"So... did you do it already, or what?"
"Iffin' I had do ya think I'd be up here?"
"Shirker! I'll tell!"
"Nah, you wouldn't."
"I will!"
"Iffin' ya tell 'em then he'll know why ya weren't in your history lessons."
Crawa frowned at Garaf disapprovingly, but stayed. A few minutes of silence went by before the sounds of shouting drifted up to them from the other side of the compound.
"Hey, do you hear that?"
The Duskwight rolled his eyes. "S'not like I couldn't. Sounds like fun though. Let's go see!"
"Let's not - wait!"
Garaf had already shimmied down from his perch, dropping to the ground and running around the building. Crawa sighed and followed after him, taking more caution with her decent so as not to mar her clothing, and made their way towards the sounds. They soon found themselves watching the Gate where Guthlac stood shaking his cane at a cadre of rough-looking Hyur. Crawa, not liking the look of the troublemakers, shouted out "Grampa!"
"Garaf? Crawa? You two should go inside." The children turned as they heard Esslar's approach behind them. The lalafell seemed slightly worried as he looked around them to the scene playing out in front of the gate. "Let the Ser deal with the vandals."
*
"I simply asked you to abstain from vandalizing our hedge." He made a gesture. "It is as much a part of the Temple as are its walls, and I must ask you not to disrespect it so."
"Ach! Ya 'ear that boyos? First we gotta get out o' town 'n then this 'ere ol' fella wants ta keep us out o' 'is place! Now see 'ere, Mister, we don't much care fer your bushes. Why we'll mince 'em up right now if we want! And then we'll take everythin' ya got! If ya don't want ta get hurt ya'll keep out of our business!" One of the strange men elbowed the other out of his way as he stepped forward. "Who're ya, mah mother? Ya couldna stop us if ya tried. Tha' stick thar ain't nuthin'. If ya're all tha's guardin' tha place then that ain't nuthin'! We shoulda hit this place lots earlier!" The men laughed.
'Grampa' Guthlac only nodded. "Suit yourselves, son. I shall have to take precautions to ensure the safety of my home, of course."
"Ya, right. Come on, boyos!" The loud man motioned at the others to move towards the gate and drew a long half-rusted knife with a smirk.
The old man sighed and stood his ground. "Very well, then. I was really hoping that I would not have to do this."
"Aww-Shut it, Gramps!" The ruffians continued moving forward with their belligerant stance and taunting jibes. They halted though as a shadow fell over them; the pale blue sky darkening suddenly out of seemingly nowhere.
Guthlac grimaced up at the sky, motioning to the three men. "Well, will you look at that... it looks like the weather is going to turn nasty soon, wouldn't you say?" With that three slender bolts of lightning arced down out of the clouds striking the ground just inches in front of the vandals. They looked at the old man in incredulity and then without another word set off running in the opposite direction.
"Imagine that." Guthlac murmured as the clouds dissipated as quickly as they had come.
*
Crawa watched with Garaf and Esslar from a distance, gasping as the lightning struck by the vagrants. She turned to Garaf with a kind of fierce pride in her eyes. "I'm going to be able to do that one day!" she exclaimed.
"Not for quite some time, Miss Crawa," Esslar reminded her sternly. "Garaf, I believe I set you to some tasks earlier this morning. Have you completed repairing the equipment already?"
Garaf only scuffed his toes at the ground and muttered something incomprehensible. Crawa grinned at him, until the lalafell turned her way. "And you, Miss Crawa, have a considerable amount of studying to do. And, if you please," he gave her a questioning expression, "abstain from doing it on the roof in the future."
Crawa's eyes widened as he mentioned the roof, but nodded quickly and ran off. She was already imagining throwing lightning bolts at "bad guys", just like her Grampa.