The Spirit of Earth

The morning sun arose on the Plains of Greater Higlain, marking the first hour of the second weekday.

Standing atop the boulder that he had slept under, one of many scattered across the plains by means unknown, a man basks in the rays of the sun. After sleeping during the cool rains of the previous night, he wanted to enjoy himself a bit before leaving behind his tentless camp. Running his pale fingers through his short, salty, grey hair, he could feel the grey stones that made up the skin of his shirtless torso as they slowly but surely warmed up from the light. It was a comforting feeling. Almost ticklish.

He raised his arms in a stretch, pulling himself to one side, the other, then to his toes.

Something caught his attention, a strange sensation rippled through the ground into his bare feet. Crouching down from his bent over state, he rested his palm onto the stone and closed his eyes.

Six horses, moving quickly. They're chasing...

His eyes snapped open. He leapt down from his spot onto his dappled gray horse which stood below.

"C'mon Crispus! Hyah!"

The man and his horse stuck off from the site and rode at high speeds across the plains towards a grassy hill that obscured his view from his true target. Racing to the top of the hill, he was able to confirm his feeling. A group of riders wearing patchwork leather were chasing down a well dressed man down the refugee's road between more hills on the rolling plains.

That's what I &^@%*# get for thinking I'd have a slow blasted morning.

The stone skinned man directed Crispus through the grass to intercept the well dressed man. Once he was confident in his course, he closed his eyes and focussed on the ground before him. As he reopened his eyes the earth itself ripped in two creating a chasm between the bandits and the man.

Two horses tripped into the chasm, the screams of both and their riders carried across the plains as the other four skidded to a stop.

The well dressed man stopped too, much to his annoyance.

"MOVE YOU IDIOT!"

The well dressed man whipped to his direction, the man's eyes wide and barely visible through the muddied face, before twirling back and continuing his sprint down the damp dirt path.

The four remaining bandits overcame their shock, one turned and fled while the other three went around the spontaneous sinkhole.

Well, at least one of them's smart.

Just as quickly as the sinkhole had opened, pillars of dirt twice the height of a man forcibly placed themselves in the paths of the remaining riders. They would weave through the pillars, clipping the sides of them with their legs as they passed by.

He had managed to slow them down enough to reach the well dressed stranger before the bandits however. Without a moment's hesitation, he grasped an outstretched hand and quickly situated his new friend onto the back of Crispus.

A deep, yet frightened voice escaped the stranger, "GO! GO!"

"Calm down! I've got us covered."

Crispus continued his trajectory around the hill as more pillars formed behind the pair of people. Once he was sure that he'd broken line of sight, he focussed on the side of the hill and a gapping hole suddenly appeared. The three galloped inside. Once they were situated, the unnatural cave closed over, leaving them in complete darkness.

"Crap, should have grabbed my vest. Oh well, guess we'll just be in the dark. We'll be safe here until they leave, be careful if you want to step down and get your bearings."

"I think I'll stay up here." His voice was clear, though still full of energy. 

The stone skinned man raised his hand to the ceiling that had formed and felt the ground. Behind him, he heard the stranger wiping his face with the sound of mud chunks hitting the ground shortly after.

"Uhh... how long are we-"

"Don't talk, and keep your breathing slow. They're still around."

"How can you-"

"Shh."

The stone skinned man kept his hand pressed against the roof of the hovel, ignoring how much time was passing as he focussed on the earth. The air began to warm. His arm burning from holding it over his head. He slowly began to get sleepy, and his head began to feel light as the air soured. Finally with a sigh of relief, the wall of their space opened up into the now blinding light. The air cooling instantly and his energy returning with a few deep breaths as they exited.

"I don't know who you are, or how you did that, but I want to say thank you all the same." Having the chance to listen to it, the man's accent was thick, unlike any he'd heard back home.

"Nothing any good man wouldn't do. I'm Djurle Iranu."

Djurle turned around in his saddle to face the well dressed man, he was surprised to see that his face had grown darker rather than lighter with the mud cleared from his face. In fact, it was the darkest shade of skin he'd seen. 

"Uriah Thord, a pleasure."

Uriah offered his hand, Djurle gave a firm handshake in return.

Uriah spoke with a deep, clear voice, "I've met many ukitu in my day, but I've never met any with stone skin."

"I'm the first."

"The first? You're a Spirit of the Elements?"

"Sure am."

"I guess I should have figured that out... Maker be praised that you were here."

Djurle grinned. Then he asked, "You're pretty far from any towns, where's your camp?"

"Towards the sunrise from here, I wanted to have a nice stroll before I broke it down. The roads are too long to ride without sight seeing."

Djurle coaxed Crispus in the mentioned direction as he continued to hold conversation with Uriah.

"I know how you feel. Been on the road too long myself."

"You like to travel?"

"You'd think so with how much I do it, but I'd rather be at home."

"Whatever reason has you out here, may you be blessed by The Maker in your endeavors."

"I appreciate it."

They continued at a trot, Uriah giving directions as they got closer to his camp. It didn't take long before it came into view.

Uriah hopped down from Crispus saying, "Thank The Maker, nothing's been touched."

"Would you like some help breaking down? I can't help but feel like you'd want to get away from here pretty quickly."

"After today's events, I'll gladly accept."

Djurle stepped down from his saddle and followed Uriah to his simple tent, which was held up by old pecan branches. Together they were able to get the entire campsite cleaned and organized into the saddlebags. Uriah then convinced Djurle to help him gather extra firewood from a nearby wild pecan orchard for any other travelers who may pass by. Once a suitable pile had formed, Uriah said "Thank you for your assistance Djurle. It's been a pleasure."

"You're welcome. I better get to riding, I want to get to the refugee camp in Thruf I've been hearing so much about before the week's out."

"Do be careful, it's a nasty place. Don't get me wrong, there are good people but also quite a few who've made it a terrible place to be."

"I'll make sure to keep that in mind."

Djurle mounted up and began to tride away when he suddenly stopped.

"Hey, before I go, I have a question for you."

"Yes?"

"I'm looking for someone, an ukitu like me...."