by C. J. Haines
Moira had finished the fixing, setting the child on the tent floor as she stood up, as did her husband, Moira speaking worriedly. “What do you mean?”
Sofius gripped one of the tent supports tightly. It was a long, wooden tree limb, dry and aged from the sand. The hunter spoke, his golden eyes melting with fear as he did.
“The bone was human.”
-Chapter 11-
Present
The night was quite cool outside. The moon stood solemn and bright in the sky, raining gentle beams of its gifted light upon the world that was below.
Samana was sleeping and came to wakefulness, feeling very drowsy.
She blinked hardly, her vision blurry due to her tiredness, and felt as if she was floating as she saw bright lights pass her by.
After but another moment, Samana was fully awake, and realized she was being carried by her old friend, the owl, Hoosun. She must have fallen asleep in the library, and must’ve been found by him. Upon his discovery of her sleeping form, he obviously decided that her bed was a far more proper place for her to take her rest.
The chamber door swung open, creaking as Hoosun carried the girl over to the bed. The door closed behind him as a heavy breeze bustled in from the window, the owl seemingly unaware that the one he held was awake.
Laying Samana out on the bed, the owl pulled a cover from the end of the bed over her, and then she spoke to him, causing the owl to act slightly startled. “Thank you, Hoosun. You didn’t really need to bring me up here though. The bench was fine for me.”
The owl regained his straightness, and sat next to Samana, as she moved her legs to make room for him at her feet. “It didn’t seem proper for you to sleep on the bench. The library is too dusty a place. Besides, Henk and Amen were weary. I didn’t think that they should have carried you up here.”
Samana grasped the owl’s feathery hand and leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling his soft white feathers on her skin. “None the less, thank you, Hoosun.”
The owl smiled through his beaked features and held Samana’s hand tightly.
“You are very welcome, young one. Today, when I saw you practicing combat, I was worried. I thought you might have gotten hurt, even though I knew the Mother would let no harm come to you. When it was over, I was relieved that you were okay, and only took a few minor scuffs. It reminds me of the time when you burned yourself trying to put up a lantern in this very room.”
Samana remembered the time fondly, and smiled. “I remember. I couldn’t reach high enough, and jumped up to hook the lantern. But it was lit while I was doing so, and when it hooked, I was still gripping it, got stuck in air, and then the support snapped under my weight, and I fell to the ground…bump, and the lantern blew up, and fire scattered on my hands, burning them.”
The owl shook his head, and patted Samana’s shoulder. “I was so worried when I got back to the room. Your hands were so badly burned. We had to bathe them in much sweet tree sap, and then the burning went away.”
Samana removed her tattered gloves, which she always wore, and put her hands on exhibit in the moonlight streaming forth from the window. “It scarred, but I did learn a lesson… never play with fire…or just be taller.”
The owl laughed softly and looked at the patchy hands of the young girl. Red marks were spotted about them, with small cuts from broken glass, and slight pink streaks running about the skin like wild vines.
The owl ran his feathery hand over the burn marks and spoke. “Indeed, but even though the scars will always remain, the pain can always go away, Samana.”
The young, seventeen-year old girl nodded, and examined her hands closely in the beaming white shafts from the watchful moon that lay outside, holding much pain within.
“That is true…I do miss them so very much. I wonder if I’ll ever see them again…”
The owl gripped Samana’s hands softly, yet firmly, and spoke comfortingly.
“You will, Samana, and like these burns, they will always be there, but your pain can go away. I know they miss you too, I know I would…’
Samana returned the soft grip of her owl friend with one just as sturdy, and smiled.
“I know you would, Hoosun. You are very dear to me. I would miss you too, if you were gone.”
The owl smiled, as his eyes began to tear, cheerily. “I understand the pain of your father, young one, for I think of you as my own child. I wouldn’t replace you for a thing, and I would give my life for you.”
Samana let go of the owl’s hands and gave him a huge hug. “Don’t go anywhere, anytime soon. I need you so much, Hoosun. You’re one of the few that accepts me here.”
The owl hugged her back with his feathery limbs, and allowed her to nestle her head on his chest, as he felt it dampening as tears left her eyes. “We all must go whenever our time comes, but you must always remember this. Death is not forever, we all meet again in the end, and you will meet your sister and father again. I promise that, as if I had gone, you would see me again, too.”
Samana understood what he said, and removed her head from his chest, and looked outside at the moon, shining gloriously upon all those who stood below it. “I’m sure I will see them again…”
Samana returned her torn gloves to her hands and spread out on her bed, thinking of the journey she was soon to be on, looking at her now covered hands. “I guess I’m going to be playing with fire again though…won’t I, If this prophecy is true?”
The owl nodded and got up from the bed, and went over to the opening to his perch, looking far out into the southern distance. “You will, but I am confident in you. You will be safe. I know that no matter what comes, you will overcome, and become even stronger.”
Samana turned on her side, and looked out the window. She had never traveled where she was to go. “Thank you for having such undying confidence in me, Hoosun.”
The owl bowed his head, and said his goodnights before going to his perch. “I always have and always will believe in you, Samana. Now sleep. You have a great deal of testing in the days set ahead of you.”
With that, the owl went out to his perch, and sat serene, as Samana closed her eyes, feeling the moon shafts penetrate her eye lids, silent, thinking of the coming days. She was to train with hands, blade, endurance, and agility, preparing herself for a journey that would test her will, as much as it would her physique.
The next four days, Samana trained hard and long, fist-fighting with Amen, swordplay with the Mother as she used her substitute sword. Every day brought growth and experience. Climbing trees, jumping from outer wall to inner wall, running wall bridges, lapping the outermost wall, and dodging blows dealt swiftly in held stance to increase evasion.
It was draining, but well spent time.
The three travelers in the sands had spent the passing days traveling once more, resting on the cool night, and traveling at day, getting ever closer to their destination.
The leader, Satthias, walked ahead with his son, as the wise one, Runa, was a good length of twenty people behind the leading two. Her old body was unable to take as much punishment as their young ones.
The boy strode next to his father, his face wrapped fully, leaving only his yellow eyes to peak from behind the cloth.
The wind was strong and the sand punishing, scraping against persistent bodies, as loose cloth blew in the wind like streamers.
The boy removed his mask and spoke to his father, taking a quick look back to see that Runa was still far behind. “Father, I had another of those dreams last night. The girl was in it again…she had a certain way about her, like a warrior…”
The boy’s father took interest in his son, and always allowed him to speak his mind thoroughly. “Do you remember anything about her this time?”
The boy thought hard, showing his sharp teeth, and nodded. “I do, father. She wore gold about her, it was like some kind of dress, I guess…with armor built onto it, and she had a great sword. It’d make mine seem like a toy, I guess you could say.”
The boy had a short sword at his side. At the mention of the sword in the boy’s dream being great, Satthias put his hand to a sharp and long weapon at his side, the blade ranging at three and a half feet. “Maybe, someday, when I pass on, you may have my blade at your side, son.”
The boy shook his head, and tapped his short sword at side. “Mine suits my needs, father, it is proper for cutting greens when we find them. Besides, I would rather you be at my side than your blade.”
The father smiled upon his son, and ruffled his hair with his hand. “As long as I can, I will be at your side, my son.”
Satthias caught a glimpse of Runa staring at him, and felt a clouded feeling overcome him. The sight of Runa was enough to make him feel uneasy, for she always would speak of the prophecy, and Satthias did not feel at peace at the prospect of killing off the world.
Returning his view ahead, Satthias saw a strange outline, high and foreboding before him. They had reached their destination.
The mountains were great and stood far above any living being. Their tops could not be made out, for their height was so sheer, that mist was forming to block any further acknowledgement of their size, as they grew cold in their high reaches.
A great distance within the mountains was not sand but dead grass, ash ridden and burned long ago from when the wolves had come through the pass, leaving the once green and joyous ground dead, with lifeless ash floating about the scene like ghosts of the long lost past life the pass once held.
Satthias patted his sons shoulder and spoke. “We’ve made it, the Khergy Pass.”
The two stood together, marveling at the sight, giving Runa time to catch up and stand beside them. “We’ve made it, have we? Then we await the coming of the eclipse here.”
Runa sat down, and rested her old body, as Satthias agreed and walked towards the opening, looking through the long and opaque ravine. It was a beautiful and awakening sight.
Satthias was met with a feeling of wrongness, surveying the ash ridden ground, which the beasts of their blood had made dead as they are. Responsibility to the other life of the world grew stronger within him. His people were near extinction, only he, his son, and Runa were left as survivors, the one, Rartyr, who had left them years ago, had probably been killed long ago, either by weather, or by those who would fear his appearance, beastly and inhuman.
Satthias left the opening of the pass and took place on the ground, next to his son who was drawing the shape of the moon in the ashy ground with his blade tip. “Father, when the eclipse does take place, will it hurt when the change happens? Will I still be myself?”
Satthias placed his hand on his son’s shoulder and was to speak, but was cut off by Runa, who spoke drawing ash from the ground. “You will change for the better. You will be yourself, in mind, but you must remember, young one. You must carry out your destiny, and not falter, for our blood depends on it, or we will surely be the last of our kind, and in time be but ash, as surely as this ash was once alive.”
Runa held her hand out as the ash was blown from her hand by a breeze that was escaping the long ravine.
Satthias felt his son turn his eyes upon him, as the father looked upon Runa, her head bowed and tired eyes closed. “Father, what will happen to you when I change?”
Satthias turned his attention to his son and smiled his heavily scarred features, showing his sharp pointed teeth. “I’ll be with you, always.”
Training had ended on the fifth day, with only one more day to train before the eclipse.
Samana was taking a walk across the outermost walls by herself. The weather was filled with breezes and the sun was beginning to lower into the horizon as clouds began to take presence over the vast sky, streams of orange and bright purple filling the sky to a beauty much appreciated by those surveying it.
Samana enjoyed the spectacle, but her attention was stolen swiftly as she heard the cry of a familiar voice ring out. Henk was calling for help.
The streaky-haired girl ran across one wall bridge to the next, pursuing the cry for help, getting closer with each step she took.
Samana saw ahead of her a scuffle of bodies, two to be exact, one was the silent one Amen, and the other was a much taller figure.
Samana rushed for the back of the taller figure and grabbed him in a great leap, resting on their back, as she kicked them hard.
The tall figure stopped his assault on the shorter Amen, and knocked his back against the side of the arching of the wall bridge, knocking Samana loose of her grip on him to land on the wooden bridge floor.
The taller figure was named Belleck. He had picked trouble with Amen since he arrived and was sent to the Order because he was unwanted by his parents, giving him a bad attitude as he used Amen, who was silent and emotionless, as a good target for his anger.
Amen was against a wall, and was kicked hard by Belleck in the stomach.
Samana got up from the ground, and saw Henk at the opposite side to her. Henk’s back rested on the wall of the archway, as she was holding a lump on her head, which she received upon discovering Amen being hurt, and then soon getting backhanded into the wall, knocking her skull hard.
Samana rushed the tall Belleck from behind and kicked him in the back, causing the assault to stop again as Henk was still calling out for help.
Belleck turned upon Samana and had a look of furry on his face. “I’m not afraid of hitting a girl!”
Samana held her ground and held her fists at the ready, and quipped. “Neither am I.”
Belleck was infuriated further and rushed Samana, who dealt two good punches to his stomach and then one to his face, leaving a good bruise to form from the blow.
Below in the grounds, Mensh, Theira, and Dred had come out of one of the wall entrances and were conversing amongst themselves when they heard the scuffle above them, and stopped their chatter and rushed up some wall steps to see the commotion.
Belleck held his face sorely and was rushed by Samana with a frontal kick. Dodging the blow, Belleck grabbed Samana’s leg and tossed her across the wall bridge and then returned his attention to Amen, kicking him once more. “Come on, show an emotion…come on!”
Belleck kept the kicking up, and leaned over the bruised body of Amen, and took his kerchief off, along with his bag of kerchiefs and tossed them from the wall top, sneering. “I bet you can’t show anything now, can you? Come on, show an emotion.”
Readying another kick, a voice came from behind Belleck as he was hit hard, and soon sent sprawling. “I’ll show you something for sure.”
Samana had gone leaping into a diving kick and caught Belleck in the ribs. The bully was soon on the floor, gasping for breath, when Mensh and her friends reached the wall top, and saw the scene. Henk was no longer calling, Amen was lying bruised against the wall, and Samana stood as Belleck was rising from his crumpled form on the ground. “I’ll get you…you little…”
Belleck leapt toward Samana, brandishing a flurry of fists, shouting out loudly. “You little jerk!”
Samana stood at the ready, as Mensh, Theira, and Dred watched the heroic sight of her. Samana looked impressive, even in Mensh’s eyes, which meant a lot.
Ready to take the incoming Belleck on, Samana readied herself, as her forward view was blocked out by the approaching Belleck.
Sending her fist up for the hit, Samana launched her fist from under Belleck’s jaw, as he seemed to float in the air for a moment before contact was made, and then a sharp star ridden pain was sent through his skull.
Belleck dropped to the ground, and lay in a heap.
Samana looked ahead and saw the Mother and Hoosun standing before her. The Mother had dropped down and grabbed Belleck by the back of the leg but a moment ago, causing his advancement to stop, giving Samana good enough opportunity to deliver a finishing blow, but not a killing blow.
The Mother let go of Belleck’s leg, which she held by his foot, in grasp, and spoke.
“Got half of what he deserved. He’s had a good time comi
ng on this. I’ll deal with him later, though. We need to help Amen and Henk, right now.”
Mensh rushed over to Samana, leaving Theira and Dred behind, and voiced her amazement at Samana’s heroic efforts. “Samana, you were great. I can’t believe you actually beat him, that was incredible, I…”
Mensh was cut off by Hoosun, who started taking the passed out form of Henk from the wall, speaking of Mensh’s change in attitude. “Well, you’ll see a different thing every day for sure, young Mensh. After all, she’s been trained by the Mother, and well…look at yourself, you’re always acting all rude and obnoxious, yet you’re in sheer amazement at the feat which Samana performed against that Belleck.”
Belleck was unconscious on the ground, lying on his stomach.
Mensh pushed aside what Hoosun said, and went over to help him with Henk.
“Yeah…I guess…”
Samana and the Mother took Amen from the wall, and all headed down the wall stairs, heading for the infirmary where the healer, Maela, would work on the two wounded.
Passing Theira and Dred on the way down, Mensh shrugged at them, as they scoffed at her, not approving of her praise of Samana, and that she was helping who they thought was the enemy.
Samana spoke as she and the Mother were the last two down the stairs to pass the two. “When you’re done scoffing, you could drag that pile of Belleck over there, down the stairs to the infirmary, and don’t mind the steps. If he hits any on the way down, it’ll just count them as part of his punishment.”
Taking joy in the idea of causing another pain, which was the natural pass time of the two, Theira and Dred ran over to the form of Belleck and started dragging it heartedly.
Below, the others had gotten down, and passed a few who had also heard the raucous.
Mensh saw the heap of Amen’s kerchief atop his small bag, and left Hoosun’s side to grab them, and then returned to his aid, as they went over to the innermost wall encirclement from the great tree, and entered.
The healer, Maela, was older, but still had a great deal of energy in her as she rushed about her infirmary, grabbing bandages and herbs to fix up the young ones.