Child of Land and Sky

    Sparrow Argios had never seen a Gi up close before.     For the last two years in which she had lived with her Uncle Gull and Aunt Chickadee, Sparrow had only seen Gi men and women from a distance, except for Ms. Gavia Immer. Still, Sparrow didn’t think of the woman as a Gi. Gi had always been characters out of books, mysterious savages who lived on the lands surrounded by oceans among animals and earth spirits. They were a people blessed by the Earth god, Mitera, while Sparrow’s ancestors were from the land of the sky, blessed by the holy Sky god, Pateras.     Yet there he stood, the young Gi man, so close to Sparrow that if she even twitched, his nose would brush hers. His eyes were dark as the moonless night as he held Sparrow’s gaze. Swallowing hard, Sparrow willed her feet to move, but they were frozen to the ground. Tilting his head, the Gi man wore a half-smile as he leaned over the sturdy fence Sparrow’s uncle had built. Unable to look away, Sparrow studied the Gi, who had appeared out of nowhere. His skin was darkened by the sun, making his skin looked like red clay cooked in a kiln. A good portion of his round face was filled with his wide, flat nose, under which lay a large curved mouth. Above his high cheekbones were wolf-shaped eyes that seemed to see everything.     Cutting from his right temple across his eye and down his cheek was a long, thin scar that made his young face seem much older. The skin around his left eye lifted, and Sparrow guessed he was raising his eyebrow at her if he had not plucked all the hair from his eyebrows off. The man’s hair was cut uneven, a mix of snow white and rusty brown. A strip of hair down the center of his head was longer than the sides. It suggested that he had only been growing the majority of his hair for a short time. Despite the kindness in his half-smile, Sparrow found her heart stuttering in fear. The citizens of the lands of the sky, better known as Ouranos, had only begun colonizing the earth land for about the last two generations. Far more advanced in technology, the Ouranos Empires of Anglia, Gallia, and Ispania decided to explore the areas that were rooted in the earth about fifty years ago. Slowly more and more colonists went to the vast earth-locked continents and began developing cities and families.     They sent home stories of the backward Gi, who were wild, beautiful, and superstitious. Sparrow had never been to Anglia, where her great-grandfather had immigrated from, but she had heard stories. It was the smallest of the floating lands, but the most influential empire. Anglia was a separate island that floated miles above the open Iremia Ocean. It had vast areas of farmland used to grow crops to feed the bursting populations in the cities. The cities were known for their high fashion and high education with the top university in the world in the capital, Gnosi. Sparrow’s great-grandfather had attended the university before joining the other adventurous entrepreneurs who sought riches in the grounded land.     Her great-grandfather had chosen to immigrate to Neokosmo, the largest grounded continent. With the Gi man standing so close, Sparrow became fully aware of the differences between Gi and Ouranos people. Ouranos people were blessed by Pateras and, therefore, reflected the Sky god’s traits. All of them had eyes of varying shades of blue. Some were bright blue, dark blue, gray with blue tints, black-blue, purple-blue, and so on. Also, Ouranos people generally had hooded or monolid eyes. Their hair was light and fluffy like down feathers, soft to the touch. Their hair reflected the colors visible in the sky, blue, red, yellow, orange, purple, white, gray, or black, with different shades and combinations. While their skins were pale or pastel sunset colors, supposedly because the Sky god created the Ouranos during sunset. They were almost always pastel yellow, pale red, or twilight white with tinges of pink and gold.     Gi people, on the other hand, were touched by Mitera, the Earth god, meaning their skins reflected the colors of the earth, bark, soil, clay, water. About half of the Gi people had eyes shaped like animals, hinting at which earth spirit had been present at birth. So, Gi eyes could be a variety of colors with no limit, except for blue. Gi people never had blue eyes. The Gi people who were not influenced by an earth spirit possessed upturned or almond-shaped eyes. Like their skin, their hair reflected earthly colors, brown, red, green, black, pink, and so on, but never blue. Their hair was also thicker, denser, and silky. They only thing that the Gi and Ouranos had in common was the fact that neither had green eyes. Green eyes made up less than five percent of the entire world population. Green eyes had only begun to appear in the most recent generations.     Mostly to Ouranos children who were born on a grounded continent. Some whispered that it was the Earth god blessing children who belonged to the Sky god. This, unfortunately, led to a severe dislike of green-eyed people by some close-minded Ouranos. Sparrow happened to be one of those few green-eyed children. Her eyes were the brightest green anyone had ever seen, the color of fresh spring grass. And it was her eyes that the strange Gi man was staring into.     It made her fidget and feel uncomfortable. Her uncle’s warnings about Gi people echoed in her mind.     “You always have to be careful around Gis, Sparrow,” Uncle Gull had said. “Their ways are different than ours, so you don’t know how they will react or what they will do. It not that they are wrong, just different.”     Aunt Chickadee said the Uncle Gull was an idealist, and he wouldn’t be so kind if a Gi showed up on their ranch. Unfortunately, Uncle Gull was in town for two days and would not return until the following night. At the moment, Sparrow knew that only Dove, her older cousin, and Aunt Chickadee were home. All the horrible stories of Gi raids on Ouranos settlers ran through Sparrow’s mind. Despite the Ouranos’s advanced technology, their immigration to grounded continents, like Neokosmo, met considerable resistance from the Gi. Conflicts quickly arose as the Ouranos claimed the land as their own and forced the Gi off territory that they had inhabited for thousands of years. The Ouranos felt justified because they were bringing “civilization to an uncivilized world.” Still, the Gi saw it as something different. To make things worse, the Ouranos brought diseases that the Gi had never encountered. It had devastating effects on their tribes. Whole clans were being wiped out by diseases that the Ouranos had developed some immunity to. Naturally, the Gi had begun to fight back, trying to chase the Ouranos off the stolen land or taking Ouranos people for captives. Women and children were usually the targets because they could be used for breeding in tribes devastated by disease and war. Sighing, the Gi leaned on the fence, staring at Sparrow, clearly amused by her fear and confusion. He wore a breechcloth and leggings with a handkerchief tied around his neck. His bareback stretched taut over muscle as he leaned closer to Sparrow.     “Alone?” he asked in heavily accented Pouli, the language of the Ouranos.     “What?” Sparrow stammered.     “You alone?” he repeated.     His eyes visibly laughed at Sparrow.     “No…I am not alone.”     Again the skin above his eye moved as if he were raising his eyebrow. Looking around comically, the Gi looked for other people.     “No one,” he said.     His eyes turned back to Sparrow, and she held his gaze. She wasn’t going to let some Gi intimidate her.     “You are here, so I am not alone,” she retorted.     His face cracked into a broad smile, exposing his teeth, which were in surprisingly good condition.     “What name, earth child?” he asked.     “Earth child?” Sparrow repeated, confused, and mildly offended.     He pointed a rough finger at Sparrow’s eyes.     She understood and bristled. Sparrow knew that her eyes stood out in her otherwise average face.     “Why do you want to know my name?” Sparrow asked.     “Polite,” he replied.     “Then what is your name?”     Chuckling, the Gi nodded.     “Wolfe,” he told her.     “Sparrow.”     Wolfe nodded.     “You have sister, Sprite?”     “It’s Sparrow. And why do you care?”     “Want to know if more earth children here.”     “I don’t have any sisters or brothers.”     “So, you alone?”     “I told you I am with you.”     “No, no…at big house. You alone?”     The skin on Sparrow’s arms began to crawl. Why would this Gi care if she was alone?     “No,” she lied. “My uncle and his friends are there. They are preparing for a big hunt tomorrow.”     “Hmmm.”     Staring at the large house in the distance, Wolfe didn’t say anything.     “How old, Sparrow?”     “Twelve.”     “Ah, still child.”     “I am not a child!”     Laughing, Wolfe stroked Sparrow’s long hair. Its soft intermingling of pastel purple and yellow fluttered over his fingers like a down feather in a gentle breeze. Stiffening, Sparrow feared moving. Why did this Gi think he had the right to touch her hair? Of course, as he did, she admired the heavy silken lock that fell over his forehead.     She wished to feel it. Uncle Gull had told her their hair felt like Avian Silk.     “It good to be child. Much less worry. I be going now, Sparrow. I see you soon.”     With that, Wolfe turned and left, making his way through the tall grass back to the woods. Jumping off the fence, Sparrow immediately ran towards her home. She had lived in what had been dubbed the New Territory for two years, ever since her parents had died of night fever. For some reason, the disease had not claimed her, and she had been sent to live with her mother’s sister, Aunt Chickadee. Aunt Chickadee and Uncle Gull had lived in the wild New Territory for three years. Her uncle, a businessman originally from a large city on the Northeastern coast of Neokosmo, had grown tired of the crowded, dirty streets and used his life savings to buy acres upon acres of land in the New Territory. Aunt Chickadee had been very distraught when he had told her the news but had slowly come to terms it.     The large house rapidly approached as Sparrow ran as fast as her legs would carry her. It was one of the largest homes in the area. That had been the deal between Uncle Gull and Aunt Chickadee. If Uncle Gull made Aunt Chickadee live among “the savages,” as she liked to call them, she had to have a grand house. It was grand. It had taken almost two years to complete, and it now stood two stories high with a porch and a private balcony for the master bedroom. The kitchen could hold an army, and Aunt Chickadee loved using it for cooking big, fancy meals. Uncle Gull always teased that he would go broke feeding the town, whose members made weekly visits for Aunt Chickadee’s cooking.     Smiling despite her worry, Sparrow loved Uncle Gull’s humor. He was a kind man with a natural smile and callused hands. Sparrow had never met a man who worked half as hard as her uncle. Not only did he tend to the land, animals, and house, but he helped the town’s businessmen. Having grown up in one of the older and large Ouranos cities and received a top-notch education, Uncle Gull knew all about accounting and business management. Aunt Chickadee swore that the town would fall apart without him. Of course, every time she said this, Uncle Gull would frown and shake his head. Slowing to a walk as she reached the front yard, Sparrow shook her head. Her uncle was too modest.     “Aunt Chickadee!” she called.     Her lungs burned for air. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She felt as if she was being watched from the woods. Wolfe, she was sure, watched her. Listening, Sparrow tried to hear if her aunt was in the kitchen or behind the house.     “Aunt Chickadee!” she yelled again.     “Sparrow, for goodness sake,” her cousin Dove scowled as she walked out of the house.     Dove wiped her hands on her apron, which was covered in flour. She had been preparing that night’s bread. Despite the flour smudges on her cheeks and the messy state of her hair, Dove was beautiful. She had thick, burnt orange hair with golden highlights that fell in ringlets around her face. Her skin was a perfect pastel yellow color with permeant pink patches on her cheeks as if Dove was forever blushing modestly. At sixteen, her figure had fully developed, and she looked a lot like Aunt Chickadee, with an ample bosom and a trim waist and hips. Her small, slightly upturned nose crinkled at the sight of Sparrow’s dirty hemline.     “Were you playing in the cattle fields again?” she scowled. “You know mama doesn’t like you out there in your good dresses. When will you start acting like a lady?”     “Dove, I need to find Aunt Chickadee. I just saw a Gi,” Sparrow ignored her cousin’s disapproval.     “What? Are you making up stories again, Sparrow?”     “No! I’m serious! He came right up at me at the fence on the far side of the cattle pasture and talked to me. He said his name is Wolfe. I need to tell Aunt Chickadee. He was asking odd questions.”     “Sparrow, this isn’t something to joke about.”     “I’m not joking, Dove, I swear.”     The scowl on Dove’s face faded to genuine concern. Grabbing Sparrow’s hand, she briskly dragged her younger cousin behind her. They rounded the house and found Aunt Chickadee chopping wood. It was Aunt Chickadee’s least favorite task as it was un-ladylike, but it had to be done with Uncle Gull in town. Looking up, Aunt Chickadee frowned at the frightened expression on her daughter’s and niece’s faces.     “What is all the shouting about?” she asked.     Setting the ax down, Aunt Chickadee put her hands on her hips as the girls approached.     “Tell her, Sparrow,” Dove pushed Sparrow forward.     Sparrow quickly told her aunt what had happened.     Tight lines formed around her aunt’s eyes and mouth.     “Sparrow, if this is another one of your wild stories,” she began.     “I swear, Auntie, it isn’t. He said his name is Wolfe. He was really talking to me,” Sparrow said. Sparrow barely managed to keep her voice from whining.     “Where did he go?” her aunt asked.     “He walked back into the woods.”     “Was he alone?”     “I didn’t see anyone else.”     Rubbing her hands on her skirts, Aunt Chickadee appeared anxious. A lone Gi wasn’t too big of a problem, but, if he was not truly alone, Aunt Chickadee knew that she and the girls would be in serious trouble. Gull and she had been talking the other night about how cloud cough and other diseases had severely hurt the Gi that year. Many women and children had died, and some tribes had been raiding towns and farms for new women.     “You can’t blame them completely,” Gull had said. “We brought these diseases to them, and they are trying to survive.”     Aunt Chickadee did not share her husband’s kind feelings towards the Gi. If the Sky god decided to infect them with cloud cough, they should accept their holy trial. Blinking, Aunt Chickadee realized both girls stared at her expectantly.     “Your uncle will be back tomorrow night. Until then, we need to stay close to the house. That means no wandering off to the fields,” she told them firmly. “I don’t think we need to worry, but it is best to be safe.”