The Final Days of Springborough
Chapter 10: The Tempered Giant

When Patrick had seen the storm clouds far away quicken their pace, he felt his tongue get thick in his mouth, his palms sweat, and the first breeze that danced with his shirt sent a familiar cold shiver up his spine. Patrick didn’t like storms, not only because his abode in the field wasn’t as fortified as the castle against the rumblings of thunder or the flashes of lightening, but he simply didn’t like the control storms had over the weather. You could block out the sun from your eyes with your hand, or hide behind a wall from the wind, but a rainstorm battered you from every angle. Wind was kept out by walls, but the sound of thunder would still leak in. Rain could be blocked by the roof, but lightening still shone its ugly face through the windows. In fact, the only way Patrick found to ignore a storm was to curl up in a ball on his bed, throwing the blankets over himself, and clamping his hands over his ears. But, if he was going to take all his senses away, Patrick the Giant felt that the storm then had won. That was why Patrick didn’t like storms.

Storms always won.

Not to mention that this storm that was on its way seemed to be darker than any storm he had ever seen before. The clouds seemed to move quicker than the last quickest storm he recorded in his memory that turned a noon sun black before an hour had passed. As Patrick watched, the storm cloud he saw, that could be covered from sight if he held his little thumb to the horizon, had spread out so that not even if he held his entire palm up sideways could he obstruct it from his view. A storm was coming for Springborough, and Patrick felt, it was coming for him especially. He must tell his oldest sister, the Princess Kyrstin, of what he saw.

Patrick ran through the fields, his little footfalls shaking the earth and leaving deep impressions no man could hope to ever leave. Patrick’s hidden giant mass would crack tree trunks when he ran past. Where one man might split a twig if he stepped on it, Patrick’s might could snap a root. Nothing was more fearsome than if Patrick the Giant of Springborough threw a temper tantrum because, with his strength, he could throw a wagon full of melons.

Patrick loved his sister. He’d constantly see village children not getting along, not being able to share toys, or vying for their parents love, but Patrick never understood why. He thought perhaps it was because they were unfortunate to live in such close quarters with each other, whereas he was lucky enough to begin his life in the large castle, and then was given even more reprieve in the fields. But, he felt that he would have always loved his sister and brother the way he does. The way they look after him, he always felt blessed to be a Lishens, but doubly more-so because he had a big sister like Princess Kyrstin, and a big brother like Prince Thomas.

So, Patrick ran around the castle, watching dust fall off the walls as he sprinted on by. He treaded as lightly as he could coming to the front of the castle where the village was because he knew if he stomped down on the earth hard enough, he could crumble the poor villagers dwellings. Once, he spent the day repairing a hovel he accidentally toppled onto a family of four. Nobody was hurt, thank Heavens, and his parents immediately forgave him for the accident. Patrick spent the day repairing the dwelling making it better than it had been before. And that night, Kyrstin sat in the field with him, drying his tears because, overall, he was embarrassed more than anything.

“Nobody understands what it feels like to be a giant,” he cried, taking his sister’s handkerchief to dry his tears.

“Nobody understands what it feels like to be anyone else,” Kyrstin would reply. “You don’t know what it’s like not to be a giant just like nobody knows what it’s like to be you. We must forgive each other our differences or we cannot celebrate our similarities.” Kyrstin slept beside Patrick in the fields that night while Thomas stayed up, slapping at the tall weeds with his sword in the moonlight.

This would come to be one of Patrick’s favorite memories of his childhood, even though the day had started with such a travesty.

So, Patrick crept about the villager’s buildings, coming up to the entrance of the castle where two guards stood, already watching out for the royal giant child as they either heard or felt him approach. Castle staff was given concise instructions to obey all directives of the royal children, except for Patrick. The littlest royal was still regarded as too young to make his own decisions, but as long as he was backed up by one of his royal siblings, his wishes would have to be met. But alone, Patrick could be handled like a child by any of staff sworn to protect the royals.

“Let me in!” Patrick demanded from the guards, currently blocking his way.

“Young sir, you are not allowed to enter when not calm, young sir.” The taller of the guards replied.

“I am calm! Let me in!” Patrick hollered back, wanting to stamp his foot, but knowing he could level the closest buildings if he did so.

“Your highness,” the shorter guard said, trying his best to talk in a soothing manner. “Your mother’s instructions, the Queen, were that you were not to enter the castle in an agitated state for you could crumble it on top of yourself.”

“I’ll walk softly,” the giant replied.

“Now, you know, this is not for the safety of the castle, but for the safety of everyone inside and yourself. Should the castle come down, those stones holding up the walls and ceiling, those stones could crush a man like a fly. No one knows what they would do to a boy such as yourself.”

Patrick thought about it, the guard was right. He couldn’t chance such an occurrence. If his parents came home to no home at all, all their worst fears about their son, that he couldn’t be trusted by the kingdom, would be true. He was already in the field, he didn’t want to be much farther.

“Then bring my sister to me,” Patrick asked.

“I’m afraid that would be impossible, sire,” the taller guard stammered. “The Princess isn’t here.”

The fear of the storm intensified in the giant’s chest.

“My sister isn’t here? Where is she?”

“I’m afraid we don’t know that, young Prince.”

Rage sprouted through Patrick like he had never felt before. Not only were the dark clouds growing more menacing than ever, but he had never run into a problem where his sister was not where she was supposed to be. He couldn’t tell whether his ears were getting hot with anger, fear, or loneliness but the skin all over his body was getting hot with emotion.

“Than my brother, please. Fetch my brother Thomas.”

The guard immediately clammed up, feeling the gentle giant’s gentle nature dissipating. “Regretfully, the young knightly Prince is not here as well. But, I can tell you where he is. He went out into the village, and-“

Patrick couldn’t hold it in any longer. His fists clenched, his thigh muscles twitched and he knew he was going to lash out physically in a moment. Just then, a familiar voice shouted behind him.

“Patrick!”

Patrick Lishens turned around, red-faced and raging, to the worried freckled-face of his reddish-blonde brother, approaching him with two guards flanking him on either side. The royal giant, already flush with emotion, found it hard to shut down his mind, but was feeling relief upon the sight of his brother. At least somebody was there for him.

“Thomas,” Patrick spitted out, “there’s a storm coming. It doesn’t look too pretty. Do you know where Kyrstin is?”

“I don’t. But, I know where my sword is, and I mean to go and get it. It’s in the forest of Fortis.”

The forest closer to the storm, Patrick thought.

“Want to come?”

No, Patrick thought. No, I don’t want to go and get your sword. I want to get away from the storm.

But, Patrick, the royal giant who hated storms but loved his brother more, gently nodded.

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