"Before the Sands Trickled" (Prequel to "The Last Sand of the Hourglass Kingdom"; Chapter One

A bead of water dripped stealthily off of the icicle, but, unlike the drops before it, it made no resounding plop as it hit the ground. As a matter of fact, it didn't hit the ground at all. In the fraction of the second during which it was falling, the water evaporated, then drew the moisture from the air and condensed in a heavy cloud around the only light source present; a single easily quenchable candle. The icicle glistened for just a fraction of a moment before the flame flickered and died out, leaving the room in impenetrable blackness.

Wary despite the knowledge that no eyes could now see her in the darkness, the water slithered down through a crack in the floor and traveled fluidly and rapidly up through a labyrinth of insulated pipes. She reformed in a snakelike sliver of a teardrop whipping through the air, only to pause, big anxious eyes and a small trickle of a nose now visible, in front of a small door in the wall labeled TERRI. To human eyes, it would have looked like an arrangement of brickwork. But of course the water wasn't human.

No, Oua was JiiaÏ, the elemental soulspirits branched off from the Five Originals; the Fire, the Water, the Earth, the Air, and the Other. There were no JiiaÏ with the power of the Other. There were no existing entities who had ever seen the Other.

For that matter, there was no longer any proof that the other Originals were still alive, either. Ever since the humans had invaded the Hourglass with their silly notions of good and evil, life and death, truth and lies - well, bigger, more important soulspirits had come, and nearly all JiiaÏ had found their powers dwindling. If only the Originals had taken a stand - they could have regained their beloved world, the Hourglass, the four united nations of the Mountains, the Plains, the Firelands, and the Forests. But no, the Originals had hidden themselves somewhere far away - perhaps they were planning a strategic retaliation, but after all these years, there was really no hope of that - as soon as the first humans had asserted their power. Of course, humans couldn't harness magic in any form, the silly beings - but if they ever learned how...

Oua gave a shudder, which appeared as a ripple. Then she became one with the wetness scattered deep within the wood of the door, and emerged on the other side.

The only reason she was sneaking through Master's JiiaÏ chambers in the dead of the night was because of the meddlesome humans. Just that afternoon, Oua had heard word as part of the cold, crisp snow that there was a traitor among Master's ranks. Master was fiercely defiant of all humans and protective of the magical spirits under his bidding - as far as Masters went, Oua decided, hers was definitely one of the best. He was especially partial to her, having rescued her when she'd been a new branchling powerless and spiritless in a drought. How many decades ago had that been? Most JiiaÏ counted in eras; Oua, to them, was still only a child.

But if humans somehow defeated Master - if they got ahold of his secrets, his possessions, his spirits - what would they do? Oua had found herself unable to deal with the deadly gossip on her own. So now she was here to confide in a completely trusted friend.

The first choice obviously should have been Whisp. Whisp, the cute curly cloud who had started to seem less cute and more handsome as the years passed, had been her best friend ever since she could remember; he had defended her with his life during the drought, stuck up for her ever since, played pranks with her and shared secrets with her and marveled at her side when they'd proudly been the first to discover little Terri, baby Terri, the innocent tagalong dependable Earth JiiaÏ. But Whisp was perhaps...too close to her. If Oua told a spirit like Whisp of her worries about a human traitor, Whisp would have laughed at her and teased her and dismissed it as the customary "Well, yeah, and the buttercups could be puke-green when you wake up tomorrow morning!" Whisp was so relaxed, so worry-free, and yet so...down-to-earth. In the darkness, Terri felt more comforting, more understanding.

Oua entered little Terri's room and gasped.

The small seed of Terri lay Slain on the floor. It took a lot to Slay a JiiaÏ.

That "a lot" was standing over him, curls of air flying in every direction, curls that Oua herself had once added part of her soul to, so they could look more like clouds and less like currents.

Whisp.