by S. S. Segran
The friends quickly stretched their necks out as far as possible to look down. A few frantic moments later, Tegan called out, tapping wildly at her window. “Hey! What about that clearing down there?”
“Are you crazy?” Mariah cried. “Look at the big rock smack in the middle of it! We can’t land there!”
“I think I found something!” Aari waved his hand in the direction of what looked like an opening on the forest floor. “Mr. T! Check out the clearing on your left by that creek!”
“That spot’s too small for this plane!” Kody argued.
Six pairs of eyes frantically scanned the surroundings below.
“Aw, man!” Jag exclaimed. “The fire’s spreading in along the wing!”
That was followed by another shout from the cockpit. “We’re losing airspeed! We have to land immediat—”
The pilot was cut off by a loud blast. The right engine cowling burst apart. The plane trailed smoke and flame over the forest, no more than a thousand feet above the treetops. Like an injured dragon, the red Comanche bucked and twisted over alpine firs that punctuated the landscape.
Forced to choose between the clearings that Tegan and Aari had spotted, Kody’s father maneuvered the plane toward the site by the creek. Though it was smaller, it had no jagged rocks to wreck their inevitable crash-landing.
Mariah grabbed Tegan’s arm with a look of mortal fear frozen on her face. Tegan grabbed back, wordless.
Kody was muttering under his breath. Aari sank low in his place while clinging onto his gaming device. Jag took off his necklace and, holding the gold crucifix, looked on ahead as though he could foresee the impending tragedy.
A blur of trees zoomed past the windows at dizzying speed.
The plane shuddered uncontrollably, jarring the passengers to the bone. A series of booms and screeches deafened them.
The last thing they heard before the crash was their pilot’s words: “Hold on, kids! We’re going in—”
Then it was all black.
2
The thunderous roar swept across the valley and echoed through the mountains. Many rushed out of their homes to gaze at the stormy sky, some stunned, some awed, and others curious. But only five of them were intent. They were the Elders. They stood in silence as the words of a prophecy echoed in their minds.
A bright red object streaked across the sky. The long trails of flame and smoke from its wings resembled the fiery feathers of the bird legendary to the people of the tribe. There were gasps as blinding streaks of lightning appeared to reach for the creature. As they traced the object in the sky, it began to sputter. Within moments the deafening roar was gone; in its place was an eerie silence as the object began to spiral toward the ground, leaving a trail of smoke that drew circles in the sky. The inhabitants watched in muted shock as the object vanished behind a distant ridgeline.
The villagers turned to look at the Elders, confused and anxious. The Elders glanced at each other knowingly. One of them, a tanned man with white hair and bright blue eyes raised his hand. Understanding the signal, the other four followed him along a winding path to the edge of the village, where they entered a five-sided abode. Its walls were made of pine logs, and its peaked pentagonal roof was made of smoothened hides.
“So, what do you think?” the leading Elder asked once they’d settled around the small fire burning inside a pit. He adjusted his black-and-silver cloak so it didn’t crumple.
A woman with lively green eyes matching her ruffled blouse nodded thoughtfully. “I believe the time has come.”
Another Elder, this one with short, flame-colored hair, arched his thick eyebrows. “We cannot be sure,” he muttered. “If it has, then the Guardians will show us a sign.”
“True,” agreed a tall female observer. She was the younger of the two women in the group, finely dressed, with a royal purple headband and zircon bracelets. “I shall wait to see what they do before passing judgment.”
The last Elder ran his hands through his dense black locks and shrugged his muscular shoulders. The others let it go at that.
The leading Elder looked around at his companions. “Alright. We shall wait. Let us see what daybreak brings.”
All five of them stared into the glowing embers in silence. In the stillness, the first lines of the prophecy recited itself in the deep recesses of their minds.
“From the flames of Cerraco five will arise,
Saplings of Aegis, the bearers of light . . .”
3
Jag found himself falling. He tried to yell for help but was unable to form the words. A rush of wind whipped past his hair and stung his eyes until they watered. He was still falling.
The abrupt rush of cold water came as a shock; he had expected to crash on solid ground. Ahead, a huge wave rolled up and swelled over, submerging him. He tried to claw his way to the surface. His vision was getting dimmer with every passing second . . .
Suddenly, he felt something come from underneath him and lift him out into breathable space. He gasped for air. As he recovered, he felt the heavy waves subside and was surprised to find himself floating along with the now gentle current that carried him safely.
Jag’s eyes eased open and the dream vanished. He let out a strangled sound. His breathing was labored and it hurt to inhale, for the atmosphere around him was cold. Exhaustion made his limbs uncomfortably heavy.
He blinked. Wha . . . where am I?
All at once, he realized that he was moving. But it wasn’t him moving; something was moving him. The sobering knowledge sent a shudder through his spine. He noticed that he was lying face-down on something warm and . . . furry?
His arms were wrapped around something huge. Tightening his grip, he heard the rhythm of padded strides striking the ground beneath him and felt the rise and fall of calm breathing. He swallowed nervously, unsure what to do, but an increasing awareness of a stinging pain on his left thigh diverted his attention. He lay still for a while, trying to ignore it. Then he was jolted by a thought. Where are the others?
The tremendous amount of energy it took just to raise his head left him weary. He gazed about, letting his eyes adjust to the night. The clouds had cleared and a crescent moon threw a faint, shimmering light all around him.
What he saw made his heart jump into his throat. Four humongous bears padded together in an arrowhead formation behind him, their fur outlined with slivers of white and their dark eyes gleaming with curious light. He saw shapes set horizontally on their backs and one by one, made out Aari, Tegan, Kody, and Mariah. His eyes grew wide.
Slowly, Jag looked at his own steed. Sure enough, it was a bear. He couldn’t believe the size of it; from its head to its back end, it was about twice Jag’s height, and was stocky and muscle-bound.
Jag grasped hesitantly onto its thick, furry neck and held on. He wasn’t going to chance bounding off the beast; he wasn’t sure how the animal would react, and he knew that he was in no shape to do it anyway.
He gazed up at a sky glistening with stars. His grip on consciousness was slipping again. He tried to make sense of what was happening, but it all seemed like a dream once more.
The moments slid by as the lulling motion of the bear acted to numb his senses. His mind began to drift off again when suddenly the bear stopped, wrenching him away from his hazy thoughts. It lifted its bulky head and made a low, rumbling sound deep in its throat. The vibration rippled through the bear’s back and, for a moment, Jag felt like throwing up.
The other bears beside Jag’s halted and stared expectantly at their leader. A moment later the large animals were on the move again. But on the move to where? Jag wondered.
A gust of wind lashed at him and he shivered. He buried his face in the hollow of his bear’s shoulder, scrunching up into a ball in an attempt to hide himself from the cold. He was astonished to find how much warmth the bear’s fur provided. With a half-smile to himself and the rocking motion of the mighty beast, Jag sank back into his semi-conscious world.
; 4
Mariah’s eyes snapped open and she jolted upright. She blinked several times, her head bowed, trying to understand why she had awoken. Slowly looking around through a carpet of copper-blonde hair, she realized that she could barely make out a thing. She was in some sort of rustic shelter, wrapped in a leather sleeping bag. Dim light glowed from somewhere. She spotted Tegan asleep beside her in her own sleeping bag and relief immediately washed over her.
Taking a deep breath, Mariah covered her face with her hands. She felt soft, rectangular patches plastered to her bruised cheeks. Drawing her hands away from her face, she observed long, ragged cuts on her forearms. They appeared to have been cleaned. How . . .? Who . . .?
A murmur of words made her jump. She thought she’d been alone. In a far corner of the shelter sat a sweet-looking, raven-haired girl and a pleasant young man with regal features. They looked to be older than her by a couple of years, and both wore buckskin tunics with knee-high moccasin boots. The girl slowly got to her hands and knees and crawled over to Mariah. Mariah studied her warily but dared not move. The girl was slim and graceful, and her eyes seemed kind and honest.
The girl picked up a mug from the ground beside Mariah and handed it to her. Mariah frowned, guarded. The girl sat back on her heels and held the mug in front of Mariah. Mariah glared at it. The girl moved the mug closer. Mariah pursed her lips and shook her head. Faint lines creased the girl’s forehead, and she held the mug so close to Mariah that the younger girl nearly went cross-eyed. She pulled away and shook her head again, muttering hoarsely, “I don’t know who you are, or why you’re giving me this.” She looked around. “Where are my other friends?”
The girl replied, or so Mariah assumed. The language sounded like nothing she’d ever heard before, but the girl’s tone was so sympathetic and gentle that she decided to take the offered mug. She gazed into it and her expression transformed into one of repulsion. The liquid in the cup looked thick, and was greenish-brown in color.
The older girl pressed her fingertips against one of Mariah’s hands and pushed the mug closer. As the scent wafted up, Mariah’s disgust receded slightly. The color may have looked revolting, but the mug’s contents smelled of refreshing herbs. She couldn’t resist the temptation to take a sip. As the warm liquid trickled down her throat, her pain began to fade and soon, the remnants of her aches bowed in submission. Her eyelids drooped and she grinned drowsily. Handing the mug back to the waiting girl, she mumbled her thanks and slid down into her sleeping bag. Exhausted, she nuzzled her hands like a kitten and slipped into restful sleep.
5
“Intriguing, isn’t it?”
The words were spoken by the leading Elder. He leaned forward, a glimmer in his eyes.
“Yes,” the woman in the green blouse beside him whispered. A small smile appeared on her lips and she clasped her hands together against her heart. “Yes, Nageau, it certainly is.”
“The evidence does seem to be building.” The other, taller woman in the meeting fiddled with the bracelets that decorated her left arm. Then she glanced over the fire flickering in the small pit, tenderly meeting the gaze of the muscular man across from her. “Ashack? How do you feel about this now?”
The Elder released a long exhale. Finally, in a low, gruff voice, he said, “While it is true that the Guardians brought them here, Saiyu, more information is needed. As we all know, the prophecy is not to be taken lightly. There is a lot of responsibility resting on our shoulders as Elders of this community. If what we perceive to be true proves false, then we are accountable for the ills that befall the land—or rather, for the ills that befall the world.”
His four equals nodded in silent agreement. Saiyu gazed into the embers, still fiddling with her bracelets. “Perhaps now would be a good time to weave together the events of the last couple of days and ascertain if they unfolded as prophesied.” She paused. “It began when that object appeared in the storm. It bore a resemblance distinctive to the Cerraco, even down to its flaming wings.”
“From the flames of Cerraco five will arise,” chipped in the Elder with fiery hair. He wore a long white tunic with three thick, red stripes that stretched diagonally from his right shoulder to his waist. “And these five came from the bird itself, as the Guardians indicated. Do we not believe them?”
The Elder in the green blouse nodded. “We do, Tayoka. The signs I received from them were unmistakable.”
Nageau faced her, warmth radiating from his pleasant demeanor as he looked at his mate. “Tikina, could you please continue with the next line of the prophecy?”
She recited, “‘Saplings of Aegis, the bearers of light’.”
“Agreed—they are young, mere saplings,” Tayoka said.
Ashack inspected the blue sash around his waist. “But is that sufficient? How can we be certain that our interpretation of ‘sapling’ applies to their age? Furthermore, must we train them first in order for them to demonstrate the abilities of the Chosen Ones, or do we discern that purely from our understanding of the verses prior to taking them under our wing?”
Noting the conundrum they faced, Nageau gently prodded his brethren. “Remember that our tradition calls for faith. Faith in not only what is apparent, but also in what is possible. It requires us to search our souls for an answer. The prophecy can only take us so far. It is but a guide.”
They fell silent. Saiyu readjusted her headband before venturing, “Let us assume that the first line of the prophecy has come to pass and that the second line remains unanswered. Let us reflect on the last two lines of the verse: ‘Gaze upon them for portals that decipher, shades of Earth, Sky, River, Mist, and Fire’.”
“I have always imagined that this somehow refers to our crystals,” Tayoka said. “Those are the only things we have with so many colors and shades. But I am at a loss as to how it applies here.”
The Elders contemplated the question. In the brief quiet, the only sound that prevailed was the crackling of the fire at the center of the assembly shelter. Around it were four low, wooden benches padded with soft, layered hide that the Elders sat upon. On each wall was a long, polished pinewood shelf that held small Tiki-like statues, an assortment of carvings and potted plants. Figurines of five bears also rested atop the shelves.
At the far end of the building stood a marble table on which rested a miniature representation of a beautiful island, encircled by golden beaches and surrounded by a sparkling turquoise sea. A majestic mountain rose from the center of the island. Hundreds of small structures that looked like houses were placed around it. The details demonstrated the care which the craftsmen who constructed the model had poured into it.
Tikina lifted her gaze from the fire and stared up at the smooth, pointed ceiling. “I think we need to spend some time with our guests. We have not had an opportunity to speak with them since the Guardians brought them here three days ago. I would like to meet them personally.”
“Your tone suggests that there is something more,” Saiyu remarked with a curious smile.
Tikina offered her friend a shrug of her slim shoulders. “I have a seedling of a thought. It is too soon to make anything of it for now.”
They fell into silence again, their hopes of finding a meaning to the closing lines of the prophecy’s first verse dormant for the time being. Ashack, who had been quiet, spoke up in his gruff manner. “This is sufficient for today. We have other matters to discuss regarding the village.”
Nageau nodded. “When we bring this meeting to an end later, I suggest we retire to our abodes for meditation and meet here again tomorrow at sunrise. Hopefully, we will have fresh insights by then. Meanwhile, we shall let the children rest and recover.”
“Nageau,” Tikina scolded. “Those five are not children. They are youths.”
Nageau chuckled. “Ah, but at my age, these distinctions do get blurred.”
6
Jag had been awake for a while. He sat in his sleeping bag and stared at the wooden door of the rustic shelter, wond
ering what time of the day it was. He felt rested and was itching to discover where they were and how they ended up here. More importantly, he wanted to find Mariah and Tegan and make sure they were alright.
He yawned, then made a face when he tasted his breath. As he traced his facial cuts, he winced upon touching a burning one. He darted a quick glance at Kody and Aari lying on either side of him and noticed Kody’s eyes were open, staring upward.
Jag tapped him lightly. “Dude, you awake?”
“My eyes are open, so obviously, I’m awake.”
Jag forced a small grin at his friend’s dry response. On his other side, Aari finally stirred and pulled himself upright to take in the shelter in full. “Anyone have a clue where we are?” he mumbled groggily.
“Nope,” Jag said.
“You guys seen my dad?” Kody asked.
Jag shook his head. “He’s not here.”
“Then . . . where is he?”
“Why don’t we get out of here and see if we can find him?” Aari suggested.
“Yeah,” Jag said. “We need to find Mariah and Tegan, too.” He struggled out of the sleeping bag and stood on wobbly legs. It felt odd using them, like they weren’t his own. He placed his left foot forward, testing it. “If you guys don’t mind, maybe we can take it slow—real slow.”
Aari bobbed his head eagerly. “I’m with you. Zombie speed suits me just fine.” Jag limped to the door with his friends in tow and opened it. Twilight welcomed them. The trio gazed up at the open heavens, agape.
“That’s beautiful,” Aari murmured. “What is this place?”
Jag had no answer. Stars began to glitter brightly, and the shades of blue, purple, orange and pink melted together. It was nature showing off and for that moment, the friends forgot their pain.
And then—
A bark sounded. The boys froze. The bark faded to a whimper after an almost inaudible, “Shh!”