Cerulean

Talea cursed as she pulled herself up yet another precipice. Even so, the cliffs, as steep and unstable as they were, were the safer path to the summit. All around the mountains, land slides kept coming down this spring, hurting men and animals alike.

So, something had to be done. All the villages in the valley had agreed. And Talea had been too nice to tell them no when she heard about their plight. After all, she got along with spirits and monsters and gnomes and every other kind of magical being. The stories about her fighting ancient gods, holding off old kings about to rise from the grave and finding lost children who'd been cursed into animal forms were well known.

It had all led her to try find her way up the mountain, following deer paths wherever she could. Her hands already ached from the effort of having to pull herself up rocks again and again. Once, early the last day, she watched a mud slid go down after it'd rained all night. Later that day, a boulder had rolled down so close Talea had been able to feel the wind on her face.

Yet, she still went on.

By now, she was entirely convinced whoever lived up the mountain was seriously angry. Possibly at humans in general.

Once atop the steep cliff, she fell on her hands and knees to catch her breath. A moment later, she rolled onto her back to look up at the clear blue sky above. She was still damp from when she'd passed through the clouds.

She was lying on sparse moss. Around her, some tiny scrubs bloomed. There were no trees, not this high up. She was almost at the top now. In the middle distance, some goats decimated the shrubs further, bah-ing occasionally. She closed her eyes. Up here, night would come quickly, but she still had plenty of time to find or build a shelter. Once she'd rested a bit.

Some time later, she opened her eyes again. Something was pulling her hair. It smelled of goat. She sat up, swatting the ungulate away.

"Shoo, shoo, I said! I'm no scrub bush."

She found herself surrounded by the herd of goats and… She looked up. And then further up. When she finally reached the giant's scowling face, she fell back with a groan.

"What's a human doing up on my mountain?" the giant boomed.

Talea covered her ears. His voice was so loud. She should have brought some beeswax to protect herself. "Me," she said once she'd rallied again. "I was looking for the reason behind all the landslides down in the valley."

The giant hummed. It vibrated all bones in Talea's body. "I make the mud go down," he finally concluded.

"Why?"

"Because humans keep hacking away my trees. So I make it rain. No trees to hold the ground in place. The ground goes down."

"Oh." Talea tried to smooth down her hair. The goat had chewed off a fair chunk of it. She could tell it had, even without a mirror. "Can I tell people that?"

The giant shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling like tectonic plates. "If you think it'll change anything." He picked up what Talea had thought was a fallen tree. It looked a bit like a carved staff. When he whistled, the clouds flocked around them, turning into fluffy little sheep on the bright sky. A shepherd, Talea realized. The giant was a shepherd to the clouds.

"I'll try to make them listen," she promised. "I'll tell them. And I'll do everything I can to make a difference."

"Good." The giant nodded. He whistled again. A giant dog like a storm cloud rushed to his side. "It's good when someone tries. See you around, tiny human. Don't let the goats eat you."