After the Storm [Closed]

[Rikitiki]

The sun blazed relentlessly down upon the sands of Thanalan. Dunes indolently stretched and rolled as far as the eye could see. Nothing stirred upon the desolate landscape... except for one small dune, which wasn't a dune at all.

 

A copper-skinned Roegadyn burst forth from the sand, coughing. It was some time before he was able to catch his breath. He brushed small piles of sand off the shoulders of his leather armor and roared, "Kaltan!"

 

"Tower!" came the distant response. A highland Hyur in dark leather armor staggered over the crest of a nearby dune.

 

"How many did we lose?" yelled Tower.

 

"Three!" shouted Kaltan, before taking a bad step and nearly rolling down the face of the dune. Tower cursed vehemently as he strode over to help Kaltan to his feet.

 

"What happened?"

 

"What do you think happened? I've never seen a sandstorm like that! They managed to pull the chain free and ran off into the storm. Manacles and all. They're dead."

 

"Thal's teeth!" Tower spat.

 

Kaltan grunted. "And I was looking forward to the extra -- wait a minute. You hear something?"

 

The two men paused, listening carefully. After a few moments, Kaltan pointed east. Tower nodded, and the two men stalked cautiously in that direction.

 

----------

 

"Unca Dom? Wake up, Unca Dom! It's blown over..."

 

A young lalafell of perhaps ten cycles poked and prodded his prone adult companion. Both were dressed in simple green robes. The adult wore a green cloth cap, with a yellow scarf tied around the forehead, the tail of the scarf hanging off to one side. A pair of glasses lay next to him, as if fallen off his head. He did not stir.

 

"Unca Dom..?" Realization began to dawn on the child as his uncle failed to respond. Tears flowed freely down his face as he gently shook his uncle. "Please wake up, Unca Dom... please wake up..." At last, he rested his head on his uncle's chest and sobbed uncontrollably. He was completely unaware of the large shadow that had suddenly covered them both.

 

"Kid? Kid!" Tower gently picked up the young lalafell as Kaltan examined the older one for signs of life. "You okay?"

 

"Unca Dom..." he managed through his tears, hanging limp in the roegadyn's hands.

 

Kaltan looked up and shook his head. "He's gone."

 

The child wailed in grief. Tower rocked him back and forth gently in a vain attempt to comfort him.

 

"Eh, leave the kid, Tower. He's not gonna fetch--"

 

Tower turned on Kaltan. "Are you -- I am not leaving a child alone out here!"

 

"What, you're going for sainthood now? There's no gil in --"

 

"NO!" The very force of Tower's voice kicked up sand. The child immediately grew silent and gazed fearfully at Tower, who didn't seem to notice. His voice softened to a near-whisper. "My mother left me in the desert to die. I won't let it happen to him."

 

"Okay, okay, relax, big guy." Kalten waved his hands before himself in a gesture of surrender. "You gonna adopt him, then?"

 

Tower shook his head. "This is no life for kids, Kaltan. We'll just have to find somebody to take him in." He turned his gaze back to the child, who lay trembling in his hands. "Sorry, little guy. I didn't mean to scare you. Got a name?"

 

"R--r--Rikitiki," the child managed brokenly.

 

"Have you got any other family?"

 

"Mama and Papa..."

 

"Back on the islands?"

 

Rikitiki nodded slowly.

 

"Well, I'll tell you what, little fella. We're going to Ul'dah, and I'll bet we can send a message to your folks and find somebody to look after you until they can come for you."

 

"But... Unca Dom..."

 

"Sorry, kiddo." Kalten shook his head. "We can't bring him with us. We're leaving stuff behind as it is, with three gone." Tower frowned for a moment, then sighed.

 

Rikitiki sniffled and began to cry again.

 

"Awww... here, kid." Kalten untied the yellow scarf around the fallen lalafell's head and handed it to Rikitiki, who immediately rolled it up around his arms and hugged it to himself. "Least you'll have something to remember him."

 

Tower nodded. "Kalten... I'll go start getting ready to move again. You should --" He stopped short, his gaze returning to the child in his hands. "Go ahead and do what you have to do, won't you?"

 

"Gotcha," muttered Kalten as Tower trudged up the face of the dune toward what remained of the camp.

 

Soon the small column of manacled men moved on, led by Tower with Rikitiki perched on his shoulder, still hugging the yellow scarf. A small column of smoke rose over the dunes behind them.