Gio pretended to sleep, as he did every night. As he lay in bed, listening to the sounds of his family settling to be around him, he thought of the thunder gods, as he did every night. But this night, he wasn't dreaming of the impossible anymore. This night, he was planning his future.
As a child he'd loved to watch the thunder gods race across the clear blue sky, awe-struck by their grace and agility. Every time one passed, he had stopped his work and stared. And his family hadn't minded his lapses in productivity. Not until he'd opened his mouth and said the stupidest thing he'd ever said.
"I will be a thunder rider one day!" He'd shouted after a group of the thunder gods had passed.
His sister had hit him on the back of the head and scolded him, "you know very well that you'll never be a thunder rider, Gio. It's disgusting to even think it!"
Of course, she'd told their parents.
And that had been the end of his freedom to watch the skies.
He knew, of course, that the thunder riders were women, that they
had
to be women. But he couldn't keep the dream out of his heart. It had been stupid to say it out loud. And that stupidity had lost him the only thing he truly enjoyed in life, watching the skies.
Since then, whenever he looked up at the sound of beating wings and thunderous cries, someone hit him. He'd endured it, quietly, as a child.
But now, he was a grown man. He'd turned 18 several months ago, and he was tired of acting like a child. He'd stopped averting his gaze from the skies, stopped caring if his family disapproved, stopped worrying if it was wrong to dream.
It had culminated three days ago, when he'd opened his mouth and said the stupidest thing ever, as an adult, that is.
He was chopping wood when he heard the unmistakable sounds of a thunder god's growl. Gio didn't bother hiding his fascination as he looked and stared at the giant beast flying over their home. He imagined being up there, and his chest grew tight with desire.
"Stop daydreaming about impossible things." His mother scolded, disgust in her voice. "A man cannot mate with a thunder god and become a thunder rider. Men do not have the life pocket. It is simple, focus on your work."
Gio had turned back to cutting logs for the fire, but muttered under his breath, belligerently, "the Teganese found a way."
Again, he had said the stupidest thing, and again it was nothing but trouble.
His mother had gone rigid, her face purple with rage, "how dare you?! How dare you mention that filth, that vile filth to me!"
Gio tried to look apologetic, but he'd never been good at hiding his feelings. "Sorry," he said.
He knew the apology was pointless. Once his mother was angered, nothing satisfied her except doling out a punishment.
"When you finish the chopping, you can sleep outside tonight. I'll not have you sleeping in my house if you don't know your place."
Gio nodded, absentmindedly. He'd spent a lot of time sleeping outside due to his mother's insane rules. He had everything he needed tucked away. At least this time, she hadn't beat him first. She'd stopped doing that when he got bigger and stronger than her.
His mother narrowed her eyes, unsatisfied with Gio's easy acceptance of the punishment. "And don't bother looking for dinner or breakfast tomorrow either. I don't cook for perverts."
Gio's stomach grumbled at just that moment, protesting this new addition.
His mother smiled, satisfied that the deprivation of food would offer sufficient penance for Gio's latest offence.
As Gio continued chopping, he couldn't stop thinking about the thunder riders. They were totally free. No one could tell them what to do. They served, yes, but because they chose to. They chose to deliver messages, to hunt for the tribe, to protect them from predators. But no one would dare refuse a thunder rider a meal, or beat them, or force them to sleep outside in the winter.
Not for the first time, Gio wondered why he accepted his mother's treatment. Why should he stay with her, take care of her, when she was so vile a human being?
What if he didn't? What if he just left? But there was only one thing that Gio would leave for, and if everyone was right, it would kill him to do it. It was death to put anything in one's death hole, and that was the only way a man could mate a thunder god. That was why the Teganese had all died, they said.
Gio chopped the log again, and again, breaking it down into smaller and smaller pieces to be used for kindling. A wild, dangerous, thought occurred to him. What if he put a piece of kindling in his death hole, would it kill him? And, if it didn't, then...
Gio picked up a small shaft of wood and examined it. It was rough, with sharp corners and splintered edges. Thoughtfully, Gio started cutting off the corners with his knife. When the piece was nearly round, he found a rough rock and rubbed it into the wood, working to smooth the surface, or at least get rid of the splinters.
Gio examined the rod he'd made critically. He'd done his best to round out the end of it, the end he was going to stick up his butt. Gio grinned at the thought. For the first time, he was taking his future into his own hands.