Unicorn Sacrifices

by Setlu Vairst

  ***

  In a cave along the gully, Flack’s body gave a huge jolt, his legs began shuddering and, from the darkness of a paralysed sleep, his mind screamed. His body was dragged, almost involuntarily, into a standing position until he stood there, muscles quivering and shaking and with sweat dripping from his body even though the cave was cool.

  With a cloudy mind, his eyes searched the dimness of the cave but, except for himself, the cave was empty. ‘Shane has gone.’

  On unsteady and not long awakened legs, he moved toward the cave entrance and, as his head craned forward to examine the outside, the sun dazzling him, robbed him of any immediate sight.

  His eyes adjusted to the brightness of the day and his first glance was back along the gully in which he and Shane had travelled the previous day. ‘I must have slept the whole of the night? I wonder where Shane has gone? Perhaps humans came this way and he led them away from here? I hope that he is safe.’

  With his eyes remaining unbelieving at the scene down the gully, his legs automatically moved him forward, carrying him completely out of the dull confines of the cave and into the harsh reality of the scene spread before him. And now, looking down the gully, he could see that many beasts lay dead and that there looked to be many humans also but, from what his eyes could determine, there were many, many beasts that would never rise again.

  With the thought that, ‘the battle is over and the humans have had a murderous rampage. I must find Shane,’ shouting within his spinning head, Flack began racing down into the blood-soaked gully. His body felt strong and well rested, and the distance between him and the carnage was quickly gobbled up as he increased his speed, believing his hooves would find good purchase upon the path he chose.

  The scene was clearly evident before him as he recalled that, ‘On the previous day, this place had held only rock and loose stones. It is a difficult place to walk across and a difficult place to die upon.’

  Reducing his speed to a slow walk, he began moving through the strewn corpses of lifeless tissue. The scent of death was heavy and the air was still, ‘Not even the insects have come to this place.’

  The blood was black, dried hard by the sun and only in places where is still seeped from the dying did it shine in the sunlight. Trying to ignore the twisted bodies of those lying around him, Flack kept his head hung low, searching the ground for the smallest of details that may indicate that Shane may have come this way. Failing to ignore the atrocities that had occurred, he could not help but examine the bodies of the dead beasts that lay around him. Their final death expressions were that they had had no hope and it seemed to him that they had had no hope because the Chosen One had not appeared from the sky to carry them into battle, into a victory over the humans that would result in a land that lived in peace.

  Stopping to look into the face of a tiger, its expressionless eyes held staring up toward the sky, ‘It is almost as if the eyes were still searching for something.’ He cursed the Chosen One, thinking, ‘That is, if the Chosen One had ever existed.’ And then, as he began to think of the great number of beasts that were upon the plane beyond the ridge, he heard the low thunder of many voices. It was the voices of the humans, voices that were being carried through the tunnel in the mountainside, telling of a battle to come upon the Essilon plane.

  Bolting along the gully, he found he had to go leaping over a number of beast bodies that were in his path. Inside, he realised that he felt sick, deeply sick at the sights that he was seeing. His mind had tried to close them off but in every bloodied beast he saw his mother, his mind finally telling him that, with a doubt, his mother was no longer alive. Sweeping nausea through him, the pains in his sides returned with a vengeance, almost forcing his forelegs to buckle and so he forced himself to a halt. With his muscles shaking, he found that the sea of blood and flesh before began to dissolve in a blur. He knew tears were welling in his eyes and so, for fear of being confronted by a human, he blinked many times, trying to clear away the wet tears.

  Walking forward, with his eyes only just showing the mass of death around him, he saw a human body lying face down over the body of a lion. The human still held a sharp wooden stick in his outstretched arm. Flack stared at the human figure; the ragged red robes that were torn and tattered did not even flutter in the wind.

  “What kind of a creature are you?” Flack asked the silent figure; waiting a few moments for a reply that he knew he would never hear. “Why are you so destructive? Why do you have a need to kill that is not born out of necessity?”

  Staring at the matted hair of the dead human, Flack began to hate the creature more than he had ever hated anything he had so far met in his short life.

  “Because of you I have lost my father, I have lost my mother, and I know that I will lose my own life, just as the lives of Chart and Brand were taken because of the evil creatures that you are.”

  The stench in the air seemed to be growing stronger and so, with the distant shouts and calls of the humans who had gone through the tunnel and onto the Essilon plane, Flack began to walk slowly forward once again, moving to his right to once again begin the steep climb that would take him up to grassy area that led to the mountain tunnel.

  Sending his body leaping over and racing around the bodies of both human and beast that lay dead upon the rocks, his hooves were hammering the ground as if it were the grounds fault for everything that had happened, until he had to slow down to begin the steep climb beneath the glare of the sun. The boring sight of nothing but rock before him had now become something of beauty, for he no longer had to look upon the fallen beasts that lay behind him. The climb was not as tough as the day before for, although he still had pains, he did have energy now that was not at his disposal on the previous day. Nearing the ledge that would take him onto the level area that held the grassland, he felt renewed vigour from the pains in his sides as they sought out his undivided attention.

  Pulling himself over the ledge and grateful to once again be on level ground, he quickly scanned the area ahead of him for humans. Suddenly, from where once his pains had come there now came no pain and so, turning his head to try to better see his flanks, he could only make out the blood covered deformities. His deformities had grown larger, though they no longer felt painful, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before they destroyed him. Feeling embarrassed and angered by his deformity, he suddenly reigned himself up, his forelegs reaching high into the sky. His voice appeared loud and angry as he called out two words, “Mother! Father!”

  He bolted forward in fury for the grassy area, seeing the faint trails of smoke rising into the air from wherever the humans had, for whatever reason, started their fires. He could see no humans in the area ahead of him but then, as he began to race in the direction of the tunnel, he saw a looming pit ahead of him, exposed behind the tall grass as he came fast upon it. Kicking with all of his might, he leapt high across the pit, landing heavily on the far side and almost stumbling as he came to rest.

  He had seen something in the pit as he had leapt across it and now, turning around, he walked back and looked into the hole that had almost brought him to harm. He saw that it was full of snakes and the bodies of a number of humans. Thinking about the pit and what it could mean, he raised his head and looked around the grassland and bushes. ‘I have to believe that there are many of these traps in this place. It would be wise to return to the path that I walked with Shane.’

  The vegetation area remained looking surreal and peaceful; the tall grass, bushes, flowers, and trees, all seemed to be an unnatural image drawn upon the blank canvas of a cold grey mountainside. There were no humans in sight; at least none that he could see that were walking through the grassland, though there was plenty of evidence of humans who had fallen to the beasts. Sadly, Flack also had to acknowledge that there were other beasts here that had been killed by the humans. Between the ledge and the beginning of the grassland, he could see twenty or so human bodies and, spread out amongst them, there were
at least eight bodies of the fallen beasts.

  The human voices reached him from the tunnel and reminded him of how cautious he should remain. There were no humans to be seen moving around the area but he knew that, ‘For all the serenity in this place, there are traps set in place for the humans. I do not wish to fall into these traps, nor do I wish to fall as prey to a hidden human hunter.’

  A movement caught his eye, momentarily sending panic through his mind, but he quickly calmed when he saw that what was moving was definitely not human and so it had to be a beast.

  A huge grey creature stood in the distance, its body covered in what appeared to be darker patches. Staring hard, he saw the beast move forward, heading towards the blue mountainside wall. He could see a large appendage that hung from the face of the beast and, although he could not be sure, he felt as though he had seen a few singular large spines sticking out from what he believed was the creature’s neck. Evidently, the creature had not seen him and then, as Flack was about to move in the direction of the creature, he saw it stop as the front legs of the creature gave out and it sank to a kneeling position. It was obvious that the creature was hurt and, even as Flack made to move slowly in the direction of the creature, seeking an ally, he saw it topple over, its huge bulk rising above the tall grass.

  He knew that the creature was not going to be rising again. ‘I wonder who or what you were? What did you do this day? I hope your pains are finally gone…’

  Moving off to his right and with a heavy heart that was aching more because of the sound of a large cheer coming from the humans beyond the tunnel, Flack went slowly and carefully towards the path. Amongst the grass he came across the bloodied and mutilated bodies of both humans and beasts. Seeing the bodies saddened him, ‘Why did it all have to come to this? I wish I understood more of this land in which I live.’

  Carefully approaching a smouldering fire, he saw the skinned and roasted flesh of an animal that was smaller than him. ‘I believe it is called a wild boar,’ he thought, with no interest in questioning where we had gotten that knowledge from. The image of the beast burned deep in his mind and then, turning his head, he fought off the stomach wrenching that seemed determined to make him vomit. Taking deep breaths, Flack moved away from the smouldering fire and carcass and made his way toward the path. Raising his head suddenly, he searched the area around him, looking for any signs of the humans who may be lying in ambush.

  A calm and steady breeze played upon the heads of the grass before him, sending light green waves riding over the vegetation. Holding his head high, he began following the path, his eyes fixed upon the place where he believed the tunnel to be. Trying to ignore the stench of rotten flesh that was around him, he tried to only see the greens and yellows of the grass and bright yellow and blues of the flowers that were scattered amongst the grassland.

  The noise from the humans beyond the tunnel had become more subdued and quieter. He could still hear a loud murmuring but he had no idea what it meant for the beasts that were in Essilon. ‘Are there any beasts alive on the Essilon plane? Have I slept for more than a day and the battle is over?’

  Ahead of him, he could see the blue mountainside walls on his left and right and knew that, where they met against a barrier of rock, there was the tunnel that would lead him through to the Essilon plane; to the place where the voices of the humans were coming from.

  Glancing to his right, he could now see that he was almost level with the elephant that he had seen earlier. It did not appear to have changed position in any way since he had seen it fall to the ground and now, at this closer range, he could also see that it was not spines that grew from the elephant but was spears that had been stuck there by the humans.

  Seeing the real size of this beast, Flack wondered, ‘What chances have I when the human’s can deal with an animal of such bulk and strength?’

  Looking away from the deceased beast, he increased his pace while his eyes maintained a watch on the winding path that he took, his eyes always watching for sudden movements amongst the grass while trying hard not to stare upon the dead beasts that appeared to litter the whole of his journey.

  The sounds of the humans increased as he moved across the grassland and he began to grow ever more fearful of what he would find when he travelled through the tunnel. ‘Will I get through the tunnel? Might there not be humans left there to guard it from access by any other beasts?’

  Abruptly, he found his way forward blocked by what he believed to be a huge tree trunk across the path.

  ‘It does not appear to be a tree trunk,’ he corrected himself, seeing the olive green colour and dark blotches upon the shape. Halting, he stared at the shape, noting the glistening upon the surface and then, bolstering courage because it did not move, he approached the shape cautiously.

  ‘It is a snake,’ his mind told him, ‘It is a giant snake!’

  Looking to the left, he saw the shape change and become the head of the beast and, thought the tall grass he saw a number of arrows embedded in the flesh of the creature. Two human legs protruded from the mouth but they were not moving. Turning, Flack walked back onto the path, walked back the way he had come for a small distance and then, turning to face the body of the snake, he ran towards the body, leaping in the air as he approached and then he went soaring over the unmoving bulk, landing heavily on the path beyond. Without looking back, he continued to canter forward, his eyes searching and scanning the area ahead of him for more signs of the dead, the dying, or those that were very much alive and determined to cause him pain.

  The light suddenly faded from the land and, glancing upwards, Flack saw a single grey cloud passing in front of the sun and, even as he looked, the sun’s rays shone out from over the top of the cloud, blinding his eyes. A moment later, the sun was completely released and he could feel the warmth upon his face and back once again. The shouts of the humans erupted from beyond the tunnel and then, as he listened, faintly he heard the sound of a roaring beast. ‘It is not a human cry! It must have been one of the beasts and that means that the battle is not yet win by the humans.’

  Increasing his speed, Flack moved into the shadow of the mountainside that was before him and, though the light dimmed, he could see quite clearly see all that was around him.

  The land appeared to be washed of its vibrant colours except for the two blue walls of the mountainside that now lined his path. There were many more trees in this area, all of them looking eerie as they were bathed in the blue light. ‘It feels as if I have entered another land,’ he thought, studying the strange blue light and wondering, ‘Would it be wise to try to eat the fungi from the walls again?’

  Suddenly, in the midst of his deliberations, there came a scream and, reacting quickly, he reared and then turned and began to race back along the path he had been travelling, moving back out into the sunshine. He knew the scream had been human and he had known that it was not the sound of a human crying. A pain lanced his side and so, turning his head as he ran, he saw a human spear protruding from the ground behind him. Slowing his pace abruptly, because he knew that he was out of the range of the human, Flack turned to face the vile form, trying to determine its location and whether he would be easily able to get past and into the tunnel beyond.

  His eyes searched the shadowy area ahead of him and then, finally, he was rewarded by the sight of a human crouching low and racing through the long grass, obviously trying to find another covered position from which he could attack again. Reacting fast, Flack began charging forward, determined not to give the human time to prepare for another attack. ‘I cannot risk the human hiding from me and leaving me vulnerable to another of his weapons.’ The human heard the pounding of his hooves before he had reached his place of cover and so, turning to face the charging creature, the human quickly swung an arm over the opposite shoulder, retrieving one of his arrows and then, as his blue-light covered form tried to bring the arrow into line upon the bow, his head raised to look into the eyes of Flack as he came bea
ring down upon the human.

  Even as the weapon fell from the human’s grasp, Flack’s horn pierced the stomach of his attacker as Flack continued moving forward, carrying the human with him and whose arms were now hanging to each side of Flack’s head. Slowing to a halt, Flack could feel the blood of the human pouring out onto his head and so, knowing that the human was still alive though severely wounded, he held still, feeling the human’s hands trying to get purchase upon his head, trying to lever his body away from the horn that he was now embedded upon.

  With a squelching sound, the human pulled himself free and, as Flack quickly raised his head for fear the human may try to continue his attack, he watched the human clutch at his stomach. Flack’s eyes remained clear and he knew that the red clothes that the human was wearing had absorbed most of the human’s blood, soaking it up before it could run into his own eyes. The area was silent and the human remained unmoving. Flack did not feel the need to continue his attack. ‘The human is no longer a threat to me.’

  Then, as he was turning his head away, a movement caught his eye. The human was grasping over his shoulder, trying to retrieve another arrow.

  ‘Without the bow to fire the arrow, he must be going to stab at me with it,’ thought Flack, instantly feeling foolish for having let his guard down. Knowing it would be too late to turn away and turn, Flack tried to move back before the human could lash out and, even as he did this, he suddenly heard the human scream once again. His arm held frozen in the air, the human’s scream continued and then the human began to topple backwards and, as Flack watched, the human vanished completely from his sight.

  The air became more choked with shouts of agony from the unseen human and so, curious, Flack moved slowly forward, wondering, ‘Should I even be taking this risk?’ A movement near the ground caught his eye and so, glancing down, fear in his mind, he relaxed when he saw a line of small creatures moving through the grass, moving away from him and suddenly vanished from sight as they neared the area where the human’s cries were coming from.

  ‘They are scorpions,’ he told himself, ‘and they appear to be in a hurry.’

  Moving slowly forward, Flack saw a dark expanse appear ahead of him, instantly realising that it was a pit and then, grateful that he had not continued his charge with the human pinned to his horn, he peered down into the blue lit abyss. The human was in the pit, writhing upon a ground made of dead humans and snakes. The scorpions were tumbling into the pit and striking out at the human with their venomous tails. The human screamed again, trying to twist away from an attacker but, whatever way he chose, another attacker was waiting for him. Turning away, Flack moved back to the path, feeling no sympathy for the human and glad that his cries had now suddenly ceased. Cautiously, he stared at the area ahead of him, knowing, ‘It would be so easy for another human to be hidden in this dim-lit area.’

  Bolting forward, he had decided that he would make less of an easy target if he were moving fast. ‘If a human appears near me I will simply charge straight toward them. I cannot risk slowly down and making myself an easy beast for them to prey upon.’ His pounding hooves were echoing all around the blue lit area and even though he knew that any human would surely know of his presence, he continued on his way. The trees to his sides seemed stark and unmoving, betraying no sign of hidden humans. His eyes had grown more accustomed to the dim light and he was sure that he would be able to see any movements made out amongst the grass and bushes that were closest to him.

  He would not look behind him for any signs of pursuit or attack. ‘If I keep moving quickly, any humans that are there will soon fall behind and I should be out of their weapon range quite quickly.’ With the trees to his sides becoming a blur to him as he thundered along the path, he became ever more confident that he would be able to get through the tunnel and join the beasts. ‘I wonder if the Chosen One has now arrived?’ he pondered.

  The darkness of the rock face ahead of him grew expansive and ominous. His eyes searched for a sign of the blue portal that he had seen the previous day, ‘If I can find the portal then I know that the tunnel is to the side of it.’ Knowing that the path was ending because of the reflected blue glow becoming more visible on the rock surface, Flack slowed his pace to a canter, his eyes remaining ever vigilant as he felt that he was now presenting an easy target to any remaining humans. There was nothing but silence around him, even the shouts of the humans on the plane had faded into nothingness, and the land around him became even more surreal and mysterious.

  Halting, because the rock face was no more than four body lengths ahead of him, he found that it was only the sound of his own breathing that disturbed the silence around him. His forelegs involuntarily stamped the ground, disturbing the silence and almost startling himself. Advancing forward, he suddenly turned his head to the right, hearing a rustling sound. Studying the darkened trees nearby, he thought, ‘It is only the breeze in the leaves.’

  His eyes searched deeper into the darkness, looking for any slight movement that would betray the presence of humans, but he could find nothing out of the ordinary. Settling his nerves, he faced forward again and, as he studied the rock face, he perceived a singular point of darkness that did not reflect the blue light cast by the mountain walls in the distance to the sides of him. Moving toward the darkness, he knew that it was indeed the tunnel that entrance that he was searching for and, try as he could, he could still see no sign of the portal that had been here the previous day. ‘The portal has been removed; vanished, in the same manner that Shane spoke to me about, no doubt.’

  The dark opening loomed large in his vision and, as he was about to enter, Flack halted, listening for any sounds from the tunnel. Against a faint backdrop of human sounds, he heard nothing. Knowing that it was difficult to not make sounds upon the rock floor, he had to assume that there was nothing, beast or man, moving around in the tunnel.

  With a final glance at the serenity behind him, he began to walk into the tunnel, immediately pleased that the total blackness did not remain, as a faint blue glow lit up the area just ahead of him. His hooves were sounding stark and heavy as he continued deeper into the tunnel. Easily turning without colliding with the rock walls when bends occurred, he found that the blue glow remained with him, always moving with him, and just enough to show him what was immediately ahead and ensure that his passage was smooth and free from incident.

  Occasionally, he came across human weapons lying upon the floor, ‘No doubt dropped in the human haste, trying to get through the tunnel quickly and onto the Essilon plane, keen and eager to draw the blood of the beasts.’

  The sounds from the Essilon plane seemed to suggest that all of the humans in the world were whispering to each other, developing plans and methods of attack in secrecy. The smell of smoke reached his nostrils and he knew that the humans were, ‘Out there, burning their fires, eating, drinking and being bloodthirsty in the savage way that they always do.’

  The darkness of the tunnel seemed to continue into forever and, impatient to know what was happening beyond the tunnel, he increased his pace to a level that allowed him the luxury of being able to stop easily in the event of anything threatening coming into the blue glow lit area just ahead of him.

  Racing through the dark passage as this acceptable speed and with only the sound of his hoof beating pounding the stone floor and occasional human artefact, Flack was filled with relief at the moment he saw the blue circle of light that indicated the end of the passage. The final stretch of passageway was straight and this allowed him to increase his speed even more. Staring at the circle of blue light, he tried to absorb its brightness more and more, preparing himself for the light of day that would come his way as he finally left the dark confines of the mountain.

  Growing larger and larger, the blue hole was racing toward him and then, pulling himself to a halt as he crossed the threshold, his eyes were squinting into the daylight as the smell of death and burning fires drove deep into his senses. An indistinct image presen
ted itself to him and then, as his eyes adjusted and dust settled around him, he was shocked by what he saw as the image came clearer.

  A massive line of red-clothed humans were immediately before him in the distance and, beyond them, he could see the millions of beasts that were trapped upon the Essilon plane. The red-clothed line was at least thirty or forty humans deep and, as something caught his eye, Flack saw a flaming arrow launching from the human line, rising up in the air and then turning before angling downwards and racing through the air to land in the flesh of one of the huddled beasts. Unsure whether he heard the distinct sound of the beast cry amongst the racing babble of sounds that came from the plane, Flack stomped his forelegs hard upon the ground and the sound they made now made Flack think of the last heartbeat of the beast that had been struck by the flaming arrow.

  The slope that ran from where he was and down onto the plane was littered with the bodies of many beasts. Looking at the carnage, Flack could only see the bodies of a few humans close to where he now stood. Beyond them, it was as if a red river ran from the passageway was carrying the beasts down onto the Essilon plane below. ‘Except that this river no longer flows,’ he thought grimly, looking at the still and silent blood-covered beasts that lay before him.

  Shaking his head, he began to feel despondent. The line of humans facing the beasts looked to be impenetrable to him. ‘I am lost to the beasts. I do not think I will be able to join them because there are so many humans blocking my path. But I have to try…’

  Watching, he could see that the many thousands of humans were hoarding the beasts slowly to the far side of the plane. Many were already there and could go no further, for the plane was surrounded on all sides by the mountain ranges of Essilon. The only way out was back though the passage that Flack had used to reach here.

  ‘The far mountain range... and those to the sides, the beasts before them and the humans before them, with an area covered with the bodies of hundreds of dead beasts reaching from the humans to where I now stand.’

  And then, as his eyes more closely examined the dead beasts nearest to him, Flack recognised a limp and bloody figure which lay upon another.

  ‘Shane!’

  With his legs beginning to tremble slightly, Flack slowly moved forward, cautious in case he should awaken Shane from a sleep which he now knew had became an eternal rest.

  Gazing down at the bloodied figure, seeing the murderous arrows that pierced his flesh, he saw Shane’s face was a mixture of anger and shock, ‘And perhaps tinged with a little relief. Nor does the light breeze stir your fur, just as the sound of the chanting humans does not awaken you from this final rest.’

  Flack could see that the blood upon Shane had long dried beneath the heat of the sun and he wondered how long ago it was that Shane had left the cave. His eyes caught sight of another body close to Shane and, as he stared at the markings upon the fur of this other dog, Flack realised that Shane had found one of his brothers just before he had died. ‘Did they die together? Or did Shane come across the body of his brother before being struck down by the human arrows?’

  And then, in seeing that grizzly spectacle, Flack realised without any doubt, without hiding behind any hope, exactly what had happened to his mother. ‘My mother had not only been captured by the humans, she had been killed by them!’

  He thought of himself hiding while watching her fighting and struggling with the humans in the water and how the cursed humans had finally captured her. And now he realised just what that bloody patch was that ran upon the water when the humans had taken her away.

  Tears began streaming down from his huge, unblinking eyes. They were all tears of pity, tears for himself, for his mother, for his father... for all beasts.

  Rearing up, he bellowed his anger into the human voice-filled air, staring towards the distant line of humans and not seeing one evil, cursed face turn to look upon him.

  Slowly, and with all hope gone, he turned his back upon the plane of Essilon, moving slowly back towards the mountain passageway. The sounds of dying beasts becoming more distant as his mind closed the sounds from him, trying to ensure that his mind did not imagine the unimaginable horrors that were happening to the beasts upon the plane.

  Flack could take no more. His existence had been one of pain, interspaced with love; love that though warm and tender, nonetheless, had been taken from him.

  He turned his back to the humans and began walking back through the passage, back through the vegetation area, out onto the rocks, across the rocks and then, with a grim determination taking a grip on him, he increased his pace and began to climb the side of the mountain. His eyes were searching for a quick route to ascend as high as he could; searching for a place that had a clear fall, an uninterrupted fall from the highest high to the ground below, a long fall that would terminate suddenly. Higher and higher he climbed.

  The sun burned down hard and Flack’s vision blurred at times and, whenever his vision did become blurred, he saw faces before him; faces of those he loved and whose images faded from view as he sought to look harder upon them. His mind was made up, determined and yet numb, though his legs were working with deliberate precision as he sought out every step to take him to the highest point he could reach upon the mountainside.

  One singular thought passed through his mind, over and over again. ‘If I can destroy my horn by breaking it into pieces upon the rocks, then it has at least robbed the humans of any chance of taking it from me as a trophy. If I can do nothing to the humans then I can at least rob them of one of their miserable pleasures.’

  He was to die, he would throw himself from these mountainous rocks, and he would be free of his anger and frustration, finally released from his pain and torment. Ultimately, the loneliness and anger would be gone from him. At last, along with the sun, he had found the highest place he could reach to look down upon the murderous world in which he had lived for so short a time. He stood straight and erect, with his head high, his mind clear and resolute, his fears gone…

  With unblinking eyes staring down the mountainside, he could not see the details of the ground below clearly. He could see the colour of the cold, hard rock, but he could not see any details. And then he leapt.

  He leapt from the rocks to a sheer drop of over one hundred and fifty body lengths and, with the wind rushing up past him, he closed his eyes to hide from him the stone of his demise.

  He felt no fear.

  He felt nothing.

  He felt relief.

  24 - Revelations II – Revelation II

  Suddenly, he was haunted; haunted by faces. Faces looking at him, faces of those that he knew so well and of those that he loved so much. He saw the faces of his mother, his father, of Chard and Brand, and of Shane and then there came the sound of voices; voices that were telling him “No!” He tried to ignore the voices as he fell, but they were too loud, too insistent.

  “Fight!” shouted his father’s voice above all others, adding, “Kick, my son. Kick!”

  The faces swirled around him, all calling out to him, pleading with their eyes and their voices. Around and around him, their pictures flew, but it was his father’s voice that was always louder than the other voices; loud, and yet with a hint of stern reproach, with a hint of pleading, with care, and with love.

  All of the voices were pleading with him, whispering loudly and staring with tear-filled eyes. They were telling him not to die. Yet he knew he was to die, the air rushing past him told him that with no uncertainty. And yet, still the voices pleaded, commanded, begged, and urged him not to die.

  “Kick my son!” roared the voice of his father once again.

  Suddenly, Flack kicked out as he was commanded and every limb that he had struck out against the air, striking against nothing. And then, a strange awareness came over him. He had felt his limbs kick when he had ordered them to, but now he was aware of something different, something strange, yet something familiar. Suddenly, he acknowledged the existence of two limbs that were new
. Two limbs that extended from his flanks. He could feel the wind ruffle through and across these new limbs. He held them stiff, forcing them outward upon an angle that fought against the wind rushing up past him and then, suddenly, he was no longer hurtling towards the ground.

  ‘I am flying!’

  And now he knew that the deformity that had been growing upon his sides, and that had been causing him so much pain, was a pair of mighty white wings. Beautiful wings covered in brilliant white feathers.

  The ground shot swiftly past below him and then, slowly, the mountain began to diminish in size, falling away below him as his body sought out the pure whiteness of the clouds and, as he soared, he was aware of pains at the point each wing met each flank, though this was a different pain than the previous pains he had experienced. The pains of agony were now gone. These pains he now felt were pains of birth and Flack felt as though he was truly re-born.

  He felt natural! He felt free! He felt he could go anywhere, do anything. He began beating his mighty wings, angling them slightly, and then began flying upwards faster, higher and higher, until he was finally up amongst the clouds. And the clouds breathed with him, flew with him, and were as white as him. He rose and fell upon the winds, dipping under clouds, sometimes driving through them. His heart was full of joy, full of pleasure. The thought of trying to end his life could not be any more absurd than it was now. He felt fresh, vibrantly alive, and strong. He wanted his mother and father to see him now, for he felt that they would be so very proud of him.

  And then Flack remembered something. He had something to do! He knew that now.

  He stopped his beatings wings and leant his great head forward, angling his fore-body downwards, and then he was whistling his way down, down through the many clouds, through the air that cradled him, through the distance between himself and the Essilon plane.

  The wind came rushing past him producing a mighty roar in his ears and he felt the air being forced apart as he dove through it. He felt good. He felt strong.

  Suddenly, with the quickness of a silver shooting star, the clouds vanished and there below him he saw the huge mass of beasts and the line of many humans advancing upon them.

  Down, down he flew.

  He angled a wing and his whole descent began to veer to the right, moving him silently and speedily away from the humans and beasts below. Beyond the mountains and out of sight of the humans, he turned and started heading directly back toward the mountains, knowing that the plane of Essilon was on the other side of the mountain in his path.

  The mountain was now looming closer and he beat his mighty wings furiously, gaining speed and momentum, his urgency great as he sought to return to the beasts and then, as the mountain rocks became clearly visible, he beat harder upon his wings, angling them so as the beats would chase the air below him. He began to climb steeply once more into the sky.

  He soared, almost vertically, up the side of the mountain. The wind tried to slow him down but he pushed the muscles in his young body even harder and the wind began to lose its resistance. His speed increased dramatically and then, suddenly, he shot up past the peak of the mountain.

  Immediately, he stopped pounding his wings as his body continued, with momentum, slowly skyward, slowly slowing down.

  He leant forward, tipping his frame so that he could better view the scene below, the scene that showed him that the humans were advancing toward the severely beaten beasts that had seemed to have given up all hope.

  The battleground was now spread before him, with the humans to his left and the beasts on his right.