Isolation
The punishment was isolation not exile, not quite. Taranis, though still only a babe by the tribe’s reckoning, was watched but not spoken to. No brothers played with him. No mother’s lullaby wrapped him in comfort. He was to be observed, not nurtured. Fed, but not spoken to. Cared for, but not loved.
It was said the elders feared what he would become. A child with glowing hands who healed a broken mind just as easily break others, they whispered.
And so, silence fell over him like a second skin.
But the boy the boy did not stop being hungry.
On the third day of his confinement, Taranis wandered just beyond the shadow of the chief’s hut.
He was old enough to walk, too young to know danger. And he was hungry.
He saw berries.
They gleamed with dew, small and red like droplets of blood upon the brambles. They looked like the ones Nyx used to give him in summer. He plucked them, popped one in his mouth, and smiled.
Within minutes, the world tilted.
Taranis clutched his belly, his body shaking. His legs gave way as a cry tore from his throat not of pain alone, but of betrayal.
The world blurred. The air thickened. He vomited violently and collapsed into the underbrush.
From the edge of the village, Nyx saw the fall.
“FATHER!” she screamed, racing ahead before any guards stop her. “Taranis! Taranis!”
Conan came running, as did Lore and Boldolph, the great black wolf. Lore scooped the child into his arms, his skin already burning with fever again, his lips pale and trembling.
“What’s he done?” Lore cried.
“Berries,” said Morrigan softly from the tree line. “The bitter kind. Poisonous to children.”
Nyx was sobbing now, her hands over her mouth. “He didn’t know. He was hungry. He was hungry and no one fed him.”
Father turned to the elders, fury flashing in his eyes.
The elders said nothing.
That night, the laws were rewritten.
Taranis would not be left alone again. He would still be watched, still be studied but never again forgotten.
Because even a stormborn child needs more than destiny to survive.
He needs kindness.
He needs love.
And above all…
He needs to eat.
© StormborneLore. Written by Emma for StormborneLore. Not for reproduction. All rights reserved.
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