Totentanz

Book 2 Chapter V: Die Kinder

DIE KINDER
German, "the children"

Do you burn because you remember darkness? -- Ruth Awad, In the Gloaming, in the Roiling Night

Once upon a time Karandren had thought nothing could be more uncomfortable than waking up as a fourteen-year-old. He had been wrong. He had been amazingly, unbelievably wrong. Nothing could be more uncomfortable than waking up as a four-year-old and trying to adjust to a body that was tiny. Worst of all was how the rest of the world seemed enormous. Stairs he could easily climb as a teenager were now almost insurmountable obstacles.

He stumbled out of bed and very slowly pulled on his warmest clothes. Then he made his way downstairs, pausing on every step to regain his balance. He scribbled a note and left it on the table. Unfortunately his body was still learning to write and refused to properly form letters. The finished note read, "am  gOing tOOO  See   wOrLD! DOntwOrrY!"

In addition to the irregular spaces and capitals, the letters ran into each other and wavered up and down the page. He could just imagine what Diarnlan would say if she saw the note. With a grimace he left it on the kitchen table.

Karandren pulled on his boots and stood on tiptoe to open the front door. He toddled down the steps and across the yard. That was yet another drawback of this new lifetime. It took him ages to get anywhere on foot. Walking down the lane left him out of breath within minutes. His feet hurt and his clothes were too heavy.

Somehow this is Diarnlan's fault, he thought, huffing indignantly as he stopped to catch his breath.

When he finally reached the end of the lane he half-leant and half-collapsed against the letter-box. No sign of Diarnlan yet. Karandren sat down and folded his arms. He waited with increasing annoyance as the minutes passed.

At last he heard footsteps in the distance. They grew closer until Diarnlan came into view. She stopped and looked around. Her gaze passed right over Karandren without seeing him. He bristled indignantly.

"Ahem!"

She jumped and stared in every direction but the right one. Karandren stepped away from the letter-box. Diarnlan finally noticed him.

There was silence for a moment. Then she burst out laughing.

Karandren marched up to her. Well, he tried to march. His legs were so short and his coat was so heavy that it was more of a gentle trot than a march. When he stood in front of her he was dismayed to find he only reached her knees and had to crane his neck to glare up at her.

This is an outrage! How do I lodge a complaint?

His thoughts went off on a brief tangent about who was responsible for this mess and how he could complain to them. Maybe he would just have to wait until he died for real, and then he could punch whatever god he found waiting for him.

Diarnlan was still laughing. Karandren scowled.

"Shut up!" he yelled in his now strangely high-pitched voice. To his horror he realised he only sounded like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Diarnlan certainly thought so too. She stopped laughing, but her grin was almost worse. In a disgustingly sugary tone -- and it was downright surreal hearing that coming from Diarnlan, the least sugary person he'd ever met -- she asked, "Aww, is the little baby upset?"

Karandren kicked out at her ankle. He overbalanced and sat down abruptly. Diarnlan just laughed harder.

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