The Neutral Barrier

Note: Third person POV. Eh, I don't have any exciting ideas to contribute to the war yet (will work on it next, promise!) but here's another look into character development. Yay...

It was dawn when Llign finally opened his eyes. The first soft rays of sunlight penetrated the dewy foliage covering a good half of the cave mouth.

He was alive for another day.

With blurry eyes, Llign sat up, groaning at the soreness he felt in his body, having slept with no cushion or comfort on the bare rock beneath him. Stretching his back and twisting his limbs this way and that, Llign performed his daily ritual, ridding sleep from his body. Once he felt fully awake, he clutched his mother's necklace and made his daily prayer to the spirits his mother told him of.

[Flashback]

"Put your hands together like this, Llign," the hazel-eyed woman spoke softly to her son, her smile giving the boy assurance that he was following her instructions correctly as he knitted his fingers together, palm to palm, holding his clasped hands firmly to his bosom.

He could feel a soft beating coming from his chest; his heart. He looked up at the white gems glittering in the night sky, and his eyes filled with eager excitement. "What do I do next, mother?"

"Do you still remember what your father looked like?" she asked. Llign nodded, "Tell me."

"You said I have his eyes, S-ss-""

"Cyan. Yes, your eyes are the same cyan colour as your father's." The woman chuckled fondly, reaching a hand down to softly stroke her son's cheek, "What else do you remember?"

"Father had yellow hair!" Llign chirped happily.

"We call that 'blonde' hair."

"But I have your hair instead, mother." Llign unclasped his hands to reach up and stroke a lock of his mother's raven hair.

"Yes, you do, and dark-haired people are called 'brunettes'. You're a brunette like me, but you have your father's curls." Llign's mother playfully ruffled his hair. The child giggled joyfully with her affection.

"Father also had ca...callood...rough hands!"

"Calloused, dear, and your father worked hard to get those callouses in his hands. You should be proud, too, knowing that you have worked hard when your hands are calloused. Don't trust those with white, smooth hands to do a decent day's work." Llign's mother showed off her own weathered hands.

"Mother's hands feel nice, and I can also feel all your hard work, all that you do for us..." the child said thoughtfully as he caressed his mother's hands. His eyes shone when his mother placed a kiss on his head.

"Thank you, dear, now back to position, it's getting quite late."

Obediently, Llign clasped his hands again, lowering his head and his eyes, ready to make his prayer. His mother assumed her position as well, elbows sinking slightly into the raggedy mattress.

"Dear spirits," she began, Llign echoed her words, "please keep my husband-"

"My father," Llign modified himself, flashing his mother a sheepish grin, his mother returned with a loving one.

"Mota, please keep his spirit safe and whole, grant him peace so that we, in turn, may let our minds rest and leave those passed undisturbed in their eternal sleep. Please continue to watch over us and guide us in the time we still have before we must return into your embrace."

"With love, Aryela and Little Llign." The two said in unison. They shared a knowing smile between mother and son before the child quickly scrambled onto his bed, letting his mother pull the threadbare covers over his body and tuck him in for the night.

"Mother, who are the 'spirits'?"

Aryela stroked her son's hair lovingly as she spoke, "The spirits are everything that lives around you. They can be in the sky, in the birds, the animals, the flies, even in the wind. They're all around us and they are always watching over us."

Llign remained silent as his mother reached for the burning candle beside his bed, patiently waiting for her to continue.

"The spirits may also dwell in the ground; the earth beneath us, and in fire."

"Was that what father meant when he told me that fire is alive? That I have to respect it and its uses?"

'Yes, Llign, that's exactly it. If fire is misused, it could spread and consume everything; land, lives, even the sky will be stained with darkness."

Llign's eyes widened in terror and he had unknowingly pulled the covers higher up to his nose, "Why would a spirit become like that?"

Aryela patted her son with her free hand, "Not all spirits are definitely good or evil. Fire spirits happen to be neutral spirits. There's good, and there's bad. They don't take sides, it's how you treat them that affects the outcome of their uses."

"Can people be neutral, too?"

"Especially people. Sometimes you might see thieves as bad people, but what if they're only stealing to feed their families? A dog might bite you, but it could be because you provoked it or its young are near."

"It sounds like it's impossible to be all good or all bad." Llign said, puzzled.

Aryela chuckled, "You'll someday learn, Llign, how important it is to be neutral and stay that way. To not be swayed by prejudice, to not be involved in wars, to make a neutral decision and settle things with no disputes. Anything goes when you're neutral... and when you're neutral, survival is the only thing that matters. This is the barrier of neutrality, and it will protect you when the time comes."

With that said, Aryela blew out the candle and walked away, leaving her child's mind to ponder things.

[End flashback]

"I guess you couldn't be saved because you were truly a good person, mother... father, too." Llign squeezed his eyes shut, but he felt the tear escape; his throat constrict at the painful memories.

A war was coming, perhaps it has already started, and he'd best be going...