by C. J. Haines
Samana raised her head and made her answer known, instilling fear even deeper into Hoosun. “I’ll do it. Just tell me how we’ll do it.”
The Mother bowed her head to Samana, and caught the look of worry that Hoosun was failing to hide upon his features. “Let us go to my chamber and plan.” The Mother took Samana with her and gestured the others to follow. “Come on. Amen and Henk, you can come, too.”
-Chapter 9-
Present
Up in the high chamber of the great tower, that formed itself as a stone layer of bark to the tree, the Mother, Hoosun, and the young ones planned together.
The Mother sat in her stone throne, as Samana and her two friends sat with their legs folded on the ground. Henk and Samana passed ideas back and forth, comically.
“We could throw you from here, and then have you land there.”
“I could put myself in a barrel, and you could give me a good push and I could roll all the way there.”
“Hmmm…that might actually work.”
“I bet it would.”
Amen sat watching, his head going back and forth, between Samana and Henk as ridiculous ideas were thrown from one to the other.
“We could take some canvas and make a chute out of it, tie some string from it to you, and then have you carried their on a strong wind.”
“That sounds like a brilliant idea.”
Hoosun was the picture of sheer seriousness as he stood next to the stone throne of the Mother, as she threw her idea before the young minds. “I say the first part of planning is figuring out your route, right, Hoosun?” The owl blinked agreeably and cleared his throat to state his plan. “Right you are, Mother. I propose we have Samana take a southwest route, through the Forest of Urkelai. That would be the most direct, and once she’s through the forest she just has to walk across some open wasteland, and straight to the City of Murta Sota.”
The Mother nodded agreement, and looked to Samana for an opinion. “Does that work for you, Samana? Do you know those lands?”
Samana nodded proudly, smiling to the owl as he returned it with his own, but with a look of worry quite visible in his eyes. “Yes, I do. Hoosun has taught me a great deal of maps from his memory. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have much of an idea, since I spent most of my life before coming here in the fields of Druhna…the home of the Dawn Bringers, my old home.”
The Mother Dhahn bowed her head approvingly and then decided they move onto the next step of the plan. “Alright, you will travel that path then, Samana. Hoosun, I understand that the forest is home to Khaggeys, am I not mistaken?” The owl agreed, nodding his head firmly. “Yes, they are, indeed, Mother.”
The Mother then proposed. “Then Samana should see herself well-armed for the journey…” Samana interrupted. “Father gave me and Daimana each a blade when he made us warriors of the Dawn Bringers. I have it kept in my room.”
The Mother replied, questioningly. “Good, but can you use it properly?”
Samana smirked and winked, playing with her braids with her hand. “I think so. Father taught us the use of it.”
The Mother got up from her throne, and gestured all who sat to get up from the floor.
“We have a week until the eclipse, so let’s spend it training you for combat. I’m sure Amen and Henk wouldn’t mind helping you take some hand to hand practice to them.”
Henk stepped back and smiled firmly, bleeding objection from her lips. “Uhm…I’ll watch?” The Mother smiled, and continued on with her words, rephrasing. “I’m sure Amen wouldn’t mind being dealt some swings, right?”
The silent one saluted loyally and put his hand on Samana’s shoulder, awaiting the test eagerly. Samana smiled and put her arm around her silent friend’s shoulder, and spoke. “Alright, let’s get at it then.”
The Mother nodded her head upon the willing figures and spoke as she looked out to the balcony, which stood high above the many walls that held the many that dwelled within the Order. “We shall. But first an announcement must be made of the danger, and of your purpose as well, young Samana.”
After an announcement had been made to those of the Order, regarding the coming danger, the prophecy of the Red Wolf, and the one that was chosen to fulfill the important duty, the Mother, Henk, and Hoosun stood on the innermost wall top, watching as below Samana and Amen were exchanging friendly taps of their fists to one another. Both were moving with great speed, but careful not to deal any real damage to the other.
Samana blocked several blows dealt from Amen as he lunged out furiously and accurately, aiming blows for her shoulder, stomach, and ribs. Each was guarded and dodged swiftly by the young warrior of the Dawn Bringers.
The practicing duo were gathering quite a crowd as people stood on wall bridges and walls, staring intently while others emptied the inner walls and stood around the harvest grounds that surrounded the great tree where the duo practiced. All were spectators to the impressive feats performed.
Samana dealt some blows of her own, swiping swiftly with blows to Amen’s stomach in order to make him dodge to her side where her foot was waiting to trip him. Amen dodged as she thought he would, and caught her foot, falling sideways, but catching himself on the fall.
Henk gasped at the sight of his near face plant, and covered her mouth, her hood drawn as she watched the movement below.
Now on his side, Amen kicked doubly with his legs at Samana. She jumped them doggedly and ran through the trees ahead of her, dodging each as she flew with great speed through their gathered numbers.
Amen hopped up from the ground, and placed a kerchief on his face in an attempt to appear comical in the eyes of the watchers, as the kerchief was one with a tongue drawn on it cheekily.
Rushing through the trees himself, Amen ran, dodging each of them, and then was near knocked clean over as a belt strapped arm was flung before his face. Amen dropped and slid on his knees, the arm just grazing his silly kerchief as he then regained a standing stance, turning to see Samana standing before him, previously hidden behind the tree, but now in plain sight.
Mensh and her followers, Theira and Dred, were watching the entertaining sight, leaning on the innermost wall. Above them, the trio of the Mother, Hoosun, and Henk were standing ever watchful.
Mensh watched, and shouted to the two combatants as each were staring the other down. “Come on, get on with it. Don’t get beat by a girl, Amen!”
Henk stood above, irritated by the comment, as Samana recognized the speaker, but kept her attention on her fellow combatant, waiting for his next move, and then it came.
Amen leapt forward, flailing both of his arms at Samana’s face, causing her to bear her arms as a shield to the blows.
Samana dropped onto her back while Amen flew over her, and then stood up. Amen grabbed onto two hanging tree limbs and turned around, swinging his legs, kicking madly.
Samana dodged the first leg, beginning a rotation of her body, and then grabbed the second with her arms currently in position behind her, and pulled Amen from the tree, sending him onto the ground, his kerchief falling loose from his face as he laid spread out, revealing his blank features. Henk gasped and rushed down a set of wall steps, hurriedly, as she saw Amen hit the ground.
The Mother watched from above and turned to her friend, Hoosun, speaking well of the two young ones. “Well done, quite impressive. I’d like to see how Samana will do with a sword, now.” The owl eyed the Mother, seemingly wondering of what she was to do as she leapt down from above, landing in front of the trio of Mensh, Theira, and Dred.
Mensh was scoffing at the sight of Amen losing, and crossed her arms. “Hah…well, it figures Amen would be lame enough to be beat by a girl.”
The Mother turned upon the hussy, dealing a sturdy glare upon her, as behind her Samana helped Amen up from the ground with a helping hand. “It’s not about winning or losing, young Mensh. It is about learning or not learning.”
Leaving Mensh, to approach Samana, the Mother strode across the
ever green grass as Mensh stuck her tongue out at her, and then began mumbling to her two friends.
The Mother noted her impression of the two. “Very good, you two, you show great skill and agility. Now, Samana, I’d like to see how you are with a blade.”
Samana had her arm on Amen’s head and was playing with his hair. “Sure thing…uhm, against who though?”
Henk had run across the harvest grounds and grabbed Amen’s collar, pulling him from Samana’s side, examining him for wounds as he stood staring blankly at her. His comical kerchief was reaffixed on his blank features as she asked worriedly of his condition. “Are you okay, did you hurt yourself?”
The Mother laughed and then made a serious face at Samana, snapping a rather thick branch from a nearby tree that would have taken considerable force to break, but with no effort given while Samana stood awaiting her response.
The Mother brandished the stick as a makeshift sword and then looked at Samana with a challenging smile. “You’ll be practicing with me.”
-Chapter 1-
Past
The south lands were harsh and unforgiving, as they had been for many hundreds of years, and so they would continue to be for many hundred years more.
The Sharp Sands were located as far south as possible. They lived up to their name with every grain of their being as the sand whipped furiously through the rushed wind. It scraped hard against many a gathered tent in the sharp sands, the tents of the Ernai.
The tents, tan, ragged, and raging about in the wind, stood many in number, and strong against the defeating winds, as did the form of a traveler seeking refuge from the horrid weather. He was covered in a ragged, black hood and cloak, carrying a very heavy load upon his back as he trudged through the shifting sand beneath foot, and pressed on through the storm of sharp grain. He was making his way to a tent, above all others, grand and vast in comparison to its followers as it stood a good eight times the size of all other tents, each smaller tent harboring a little more space than one body would fill.
Inside the glorious tent it was wide and open. The tiresome figure entered and took greeting with a figure dressed in accord to his wears, but in a lighter tone of cloth, and with far more furious a look on his features. A wolf skull with no bottom jaw was affixed atop the head of his cloak, making him a haunting sight to behold. Dumping the heavy load from his back, the traveler removed his facial coverings, and hood, and showed the look of his people upon his face, sunken eyes, yellowed and slit. Skin sat yellowed with a look of illness, scars running patterns across his face from the razor sharp sands upon the wind that cut with every contact as they had etched fine cuts to his features. Black hair, of shoulder length and thin nature ran from his head.
The figure of greeting looked down upon the floor. The rewards of the traveler’s venture spread out across a mat on the floor. Red, furry beasts, long and slender sat bearing a close comparison to sloth with their long claws. The figure placed a grateful hand upon the traveler’s shoulder and spoke in a scathing manner, sharp and rapping. “A hunt well-ventured, Sofius. This should be enough food for most of the clan about camp. You’ve done well, as usual.”
The traveler, Sofius, the hunter for the clan, forager of food, took glance upon his leader and spoke, his voice peaceful and monotone. “But the lands are getting dryer, Grede. I don’t know how much longer we can last on the beasts of the sand. The mass needs to change diet, or else we will die out. There just aren’t as many beasts around here as there used to be!”
Grede looked at the grounded beasts, hungrily, and then turned his gaze back upon his hunter, taking a speech of sarcasm. “Well, I’m sure you would like us to go and feed ourselves on vegetables and dried out weeds, but I’m afraid our clan just can’t adapt as you can. They wouldn’t last a moment on measly weeds!”
Sofius watched Grede as he paced the tent. Besides the two Ernai, there was little else in the massive tent, only a few objects strewn here and there, a wooden chair, aged and tiring, some drinking barrels that hadn’t seen water in long months, and some bones hanging from the tent ceiling, adding a dark feel to the confines of the ever swaying tent.
Sofius spoke, keeping eyes fixed on the pacing leader. “Maybe they should learn to. We have little time. That was the last of anything I’ve seen wandering the desert, who knows if there will be more.”
Grede stopped his pacing, and approached Sofius, connecting yellowed eyes with the hunter as he spoke. “I’m glad you take such good care of our people. I wish everyone held them in such a caring place in mind as you, but I assure you, I have a solution in mind.”
Sofius nodded and pulled his hood back over his head, and voiced concern. “I hope so, Grede, for the sake of Ernai…by the way, while I was out, I went looking for Sahfs. I still haven’t found him. I can’t imagine why he would run, he was my best hunting partner, and truly loyal to our clan. I don’t understand why he would-”
Grede interrupted with his own words, and showed the sharp teeth he and his clan all had, speaking in his rapping voice of assurance. “Maybe he got killed on the hunt. Maybe the sharp sands cut too deep, and he died and disappeared amongst the spray and was buried. I do not know, but we need a solution to our hunger problem. Maybe he died in the search for a solution to the problem.”
Sofius took the words in, and spoke as he wrapped his face, readying to leave the tent.
“Perhaps, maybe when I find the solution, I’ll find him.”
Grede nodded, and opened the tent entrance to his hunter, speaking out to him as he walked through the tense sands. “I’m sure you will…believe me…you will.”
The tent closed behind Sofius as he made his way through the dense wind, and to a tent that lay not far. Sofius entered the small tent, and removed his hood and facial coverings, looking upon a sight, beautiful and dear to him as he did. “Moira, my dear love, how are you feeling?”
Moira was sitting on a mat, and stood up, holding her stomach, as she smiled through her scarred features at her husband. “I am well. Is the wind getting harsher out there?”
Sofius approached his wife and gave her a soft peck on her lip, and answered her, putting his hands upon her bulging stomach. “They’re as wild as always…how is our child doing?”
Moira nestled her head against the neck of Sofius and held her stomach, speaking in a very calm and soothing manner. “It seems okay. I find myself overjoyed at the idea of giving birth, but at the same time, I feel lost and discomforted…”
Sofius put his hand to work, and held the face of his wife to his, speaking in calming fashion to assure her. “Do not worry, our son will not be the one, he will be good…do not fear.”
Moira’s glum features went from dark to radiant, causing a smile to grow on her features as she spoke to her husband. “I’ll try not to. How was the hunt?”
Sofius gritted his teeth, and spoke. “There seems to be no food left. I got the last of any beast I’ve seen for miles, Moira. I don’t know where he thinks I’m going to get more. I told him the clan should adapt, but you know him, he…” Moira spoke, finishing his speech. “Still is going on to not believe you, and your beliefs…our beliefs.”
Sofius nodded in acceptance of her words, and continued onwards with his. “That the blood of the flesh that we eat will drive our people to the brink of murder and slaughter, as it did the wolves of our blood. I want us to avoid death, avoid killing. I only took up hunting for us so none other would be tempted to kill more than just beast. Maybe that’s what happened to Sahfs, maybe he got filled with blood hunger and decided to go out, and kill for himself!”
Moira took the hands of Sofius and held them in tightness. “We’ve come a long way, Sofius. We’ve gone near a good hundred years since the pact was made, we can’t take a step back, now. Sahfs was loyal and true, do you think he would’ve betrayed us, betrayed you, his own brother for his own lust?”
Sofius made a slight smile with his sharp teeth, and spoke. “I don’t know. I’d like to think not, b
ut I’ve seen something happening lately, especially with the young ones. They’re becoming more violent, biting one another, clawing, and taking blood with their blows. I don’t know what’s going on, but it isn’t making me very calm…for the first time in a long time I’m beginning to feel afraid.”
Moira tried to assure her distraught husband and hugged him, speaking into his ear.
“You’ll soon find out in time, just think about us…we’ll be okay.”
Sofius held his wife tight, and spoke worriedly. “What happens if I’m right? What happens if they get violent, and out of control and harm people…and harm you, and our child?”
Moira took Sofius’ face in hands and looked into his golden eyes. “Do not worry, our child will be born. We will be fine, a solution will be found. I promise you.”
Sofius embraced his wife, tightly, and kissed her forehead, thinking of the clan, Moira, the future, and their child.
-Chapter 10-
Present
The day was drawing closer to its end as all at the Order were ushered into silence by the Mother as she stood preparing Samana for her sword practice.
The Mother held the long branch of wood, sizing it up, as she spoke to Samana. “I think this will do in the place of a sword, don’t you?” Hoosun had come down from the innermost wall top and interjected, before Samana could respond. The owl spoke quietly to the Mother, so none other than her could hear his questioning voice. “Mother, I don’t think I quite agree with this. She’s just a child and you’re the Mother, you have far superior skills, and in carrying the duty, so much more than that.”
The Mother smiled and pointed the end of the stick out to Samana, assuring her friend with a whisper in his feathery ear. “Do not worry, my wise owl, I shall not hurt her. I will hold back a great deal as to see that I do not cause any harm to her. My agility and so forth will add more of a challenge to her, so that she may learn to be better, faster.”