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Jiant

Someone was shaking him. Someone small.

He opened his eyes. The sky was wonderfully clear blue, with small, fluffy clouds drifting eastwards towards the sun.

He yawned, and felt his teeth wiggle in his mouth. He was going to lose some more this week. No matter, they always seemed to grow back these days.

Not like before, when he was small.

He sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. And froze.

The forest was gone, smashed into kindling, branches and trunks and leaves lying like a carpet across the valley. He rolled to his feet, to find a human boy dodging away from his shadow.

Oh no you don’t.

Lunging, Jiant snatched the fleeing man, wrapping his chest with one first, lifting the boy up to eye level. “What happened?” He growled.

Jora Lina gasped, red faced, lips swollen, eyes blackened.

Jiant loosed his grip a little and the boy sucked in a deep, rattling breath.

I don’t have time for this. “What happened.” He barked, shaking his fist. Jora yelped. “The storm.” He babbled. “The Red Cave people, they escaped.”

Jiant stared at the smashed woods around him, searching for the hill. There it was, half-buried in kindling, with a great hole where the mighty oak tree had been the night before. He frowned, and shook his head.

The boy stared at him. “It didn’t… wake you?”

Angrily, he tossed Jora Lina to the ground. “Get me some food.”

He was always hungry.

He kicked a tree limb, and it went flying through the air. The blood potion put me to sleep again.

Fuming, he stomped angrily up the hillside, to find Jora’s companions cowering together in the center of the pit.

“The others, gone?” He asked.

The two paused for a moment, and then nodded.

Jiant narrowed his eyes and stared at them. “You let them escape.”

They fell silent and averted their eyes. His hands twitched eagerly as he imagined slowly twisting their heads off of their bodies.

But he had other, more pressing concerns. Punishment would have to wait. Turning, he saw several of his tribesmen gathering at the campfire. “Guard them, Tamu.” He said, pointing at the pit, and then climbed up the hillside, sprinting for the top, rocks clattering all around from the fury of his passage.

The storm had wreaked a fairly narrow path of destruction through the woods. He stared all around, but his eyes had grown weak as his height had increased. Nothing.

“That baby was MINE.” His roar echoed through the mountains, coming back from every direction “Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!” The earth trembled beneath his feet.

=-=

“What happened?” he asked, munching on a cold, dirty haunch of meat, leftovers from their last meal.

Jora seemed more composed now. He took a deep breath, and stood tall, his left eyelid spasming. “There was a great storm last night.” His mouth was swollen and bloody, and he spoke slowly and carefully, glancing every so often at his companions. “It ripped the great oak tree from the top of the cave. I tried to warn you, but they attacked me and beat me.

That would explain the marks on his face.

“They must have climbed out then, and–”

Jiant held up his hand, and turned to the other two slaves. “Is this true?”

They nodded, cautiously, the spark of panic burning in the depths of their eyes.

“You didn’t help him?”

The first one spoke, haltingly. “There were too much of them.”

“Too many.” He roared, striking out with the back of his hand, sending the boy tumbling through the air to land, stunned against a pile of branches across the campsite.

He turned to the other. “You two are less than worthless.”

The boy was shaking, lips quivering, staring at the ground with arms crossed, a dark stain growing at his waist. Good.

Jiant’s other tribesmen were gathering around the campsite. Even better.

“Everyone, remember the lesson I give today.” He stood up, knees popping in protest. “I demand two things. Obedience, and courage.”

Reaching out, he snatched up the nearby slave. He motioned with his hand, and brown-haired Tamu picked up the other, still lying unmoving on the pile of sticks.

The slave stared up at him, eyes wide with terror. What was his name again? Amosam? Alatar? Something like that. “Jora Lina has both. You apparently have neither the wit to obey, or the courage to flee”

And then inspiration struck.

“…And for that, you shall never run again.” Twisting the slave around, he caught the boy’s left ankle in his teeth, grinding down slowly, enjoying the shrieks of fear and agony as the flesh shredded in his mouth. They should always be afraid. The bones crunched as warm saltiness spurted across his cheek. This was the best part of life… the sheer joy of seeing people scurry to fulfill his commands, and having the strength and power to punish those who defied him.

A few heartbeats later, he pulled the boy away, feeling the last snaps and cracks as the flesh and bone separated, and flung him to the earth where he lay, grabbing his ankle as crimson fluid poured between his fingers and across the leaf-littered ground. Jora rushed over to help as Tamu tossed the other slave through the air. Catching him, Jiant saw that the slave was already unconscious.

“What did you do?” he roared at Tamu. “He was mine to punish, not yours”

“Jiant.” Tamu held up his hands, backing away. “I did nothing.”

Furious, Jiant grasped the slave by thigh and calf and twisted, feeling the tendons snap pop-pop-pop before the flesh tore and the blood gushed out across his hand as he yanked the leg from the body. But the boy didn’t respond. What’s the point if they don’t beg for mercy?

Still, the others would remember. Both small and large.

Tossing the crippled slave away, he turned to the others, licking his hand clean. “Where is Irda?” There were other matters to attend to.

Vela hobbled up, shoving Tamu out of her way. “Sleeping. Over there.”

Of course he is.

Growling, he marched towards the copse of trees she had indicated. And there he was, mop of curly brown hair in his eyes, sound asleep, collapsed over a rotting log. It looked quite uncomfortable.

The potion water skin dangled from his fingers, almost empty.

Jiant smiled as his rage began to boil.

Reaching out, he grabbed the trunk of a nearby pine tree, and shoved hard against the bark. With a moan and a splintering crack it shattered in two, shards of resiny wood protruding from the end. A stomp with his foot, carefully placed, and now he had a proper spear, complete with sharp points that he could drive into Irda’s thigh.

With a great cry, Irda woke up, hands knocking the tree trunk away, chunks of wood embedded in his flesh, dark blood pooling around the wounds. He howled angrily, pressing his hand against his leg.

But Jiant was not going to give him respite. Intense pain was the only way to force someone awake after taking the potion. “You took the growing potion.” Swinging the trunk again, he caught Irda across the face, leaving a mass of bloody gashes across his cheek.

“You were supposed to keep watch over the rest of us.” Swinging the tree around, he smashed it into Irda’s good leg, tripping him up, and sending him crashing down into the rotten log. Moss and dirt and insects went flying in every direction.

“The Red Cave people escaped.” Pulling the trunk back, he lunched forward, aiming his spear towards Irda’s chest.

Incredibly, Irda rolled out of the way, and the spear sailed past, embedding itself in the thick, loamy soil. Kicking out with his good leg, Irda smashed the end of the spear, sending Jiant stumbling forward.

Climbing to his feet, Irda stared at Jiant, eyes focused on the tree trunk as Jiant ripped it out of the ground. To his credit, Irda didn’t lie, or beg for mercy. “You’ve gotten too big, Jiant.” He said, steadily as blood dripped down his chin.

Jiant’s weapon was ruined, split halfway down the middle. In disgust, he tossed it away, clenching his fists. This would be settled by hand.

“I discovered the potion. I shared it with you. I made you strong. You owe your life to me.”

Irda shook his head. “No. Not anymore… You’ve–”

With a roar, Jiant leapt forward, but Irda ducked and let Jiant fly over him, standing up in time to catch Jiant with his back, sending Jiant spiraling through the air, smashing into one.. two.. three trees before stopping.

Jiant rolled to his feet. “You’re challenging me.” He said, trying to stifle the grin.

Irda roared, and charged, hands raised. Shifting, Jiant caught him and swung him around, sending Irda rolling across the forest floor, smashing through the trees.

The others were gathered on a hillside, just a big away from the fighting, watching silently. Good. “I am Jiant.” He roared. “You can’t defeat me.”

Snarling, Irda snatched a shattered tree branch off the ground. “You were not always the largest, Jiant. And you will not be the largest for long.” He rushed forward, tree branch sweeping before him.

He’s fast. Jiant rolled left, kicking at the weapon as Irda stabbed at him, leaving a bloody gash across Jiant’s arm. Scrambling to his feet, he dodged another blow and then caught the branch in mid swing, ripping it from Irda’s hands.

“Let me show you how to use this.” He growled, baring his teeth in a wicked smile.

Quickly flipping it about, Jiant lunged forward, burying the sharp end in Irda’s shoulder, sending the smaller man cartwheeling backwards to land with a heavy thud on his back.

Laughing, Jiant leaned forward. “You’ve los-”

Irda’s fist came out of nowhere, smashing into his face, sending him reeling backwards. Dizzy, he spun around. Another blow sent his teeth deep into his tongue and blood flooded into his mouth.

He was through playing around.

A flicker of movement. A foot driving towards his face. Reaching out instinctively he caught it, and twisted. A cry of anguish and a heavy crash. Irda lying face down. Bellowing, Jiant dove forwards, landing full-body on top of Irda, seizing his neck. Pulling. Screams of agony from below only spurred him on. “You will obey me.” He howled, pulling hard on the chin. “Or you will die.” He could feel tendons popping, bones crunching. One. Last. Yank.

Sucking in a deep breath, Jiant let the head drop to the ground as he rose unsteadily to his feet.

The others were still there on the hillside, staring at him. He strode up the hill towards them, wiping the blood off of his face.

“Do any of you want to challenge me?”

He locked eyes with each one in turn, and each one in turn shook his head, and lowered his eyes. Suet was last, and for a moment he saw her struggle, saw the spark of defiance in her pupils.

And then she dropped her eyes. “No Jiant.” She murmured

“I didn’t think so. ” He said, looking past them to the small form on the ridge. “Jora Lina.”

“Yes, Jiant?” The small form stepped forward slowly.

He pointed. “Over there, next to the body.. get the water skin.” Jora rushed to comply, and returned promptly, holding it above his head.

Reaching down, Jiant snatched it up, studying the weight. Just enough left.

“Here.” He said, tossing the skin back to Jora. “It seems I am short one tribesman. Drink this, and join us.”

Jora took the potion, and brought it to his lips, and then paused. He stared up at Jiant, fear in his eyes, and opened his mouth to speak.

“Or don’t drink it,” Jiant said, quickly. “And die a slow, unpleasant death like your friends.”

Nodding, Jora quickly lifted the skin again and drank greedily, blood spilling out across his face and chest until it ran empty. Dropping it, Jora stared at his arms as they began to bubble and twitch. The first time was always the most dramatic.

Eyes wide as the flesh throbbed and bulged, Jora Lina began to scream.

And the most painful.

Jiant sat down, and settled in for a good show.

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Thursday, May 25th, 2006 at 1:08 am.
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