by C. J. Haines
Kurlank stood with the burning building at his back, Samana at his side, speaking to the beast. “I have a purpose too, and it’s to stop you!”
The beast looked at her with his burning eyes, and then to the building behind them, staring upon the fire with purpose. “I know your purpose, and it is not what you think it is. In time I will make you understand.”
Samana felt great heat from behind her, unable to respond as the fire grew from the building. Kurlank saw the growing danger, and threw himself in front of Samana, shouting. “Samana, NO!!!”
The fire spat from the building and showered Kurlank, separating in twin directions as he blocked it from Samana, but this was just a distraction.
Samana was grabbed from behind, and struggled against the grasp of the beast. In effort to make things easier, the Red Wolf knocked her out with a blow to the head, and carried her over his back as he walked away from the metal one. “I need her. You’re a good fighter, and seemingly as loyal to your friend.”
Kurlank saw that Samana was no longer at his back, and blocked the flames no longer, running after the Red Wolf. But the beast grinned behind his helmet, and used his gift of fire once more to get the armored warrior out of the picture.
Kurlank was running for the beast that was standing still, watching his approach. He was almost there, grasping out for Samana, when fire burst from a building, causing a great explosion, sending Kurlank flying from the ground, and into the building opposite the exploding one, crashing heavily as the fire torn building collapsed beneath his weight.
The Red Wolf was finished with the silver, bloodstained warrior, and ran off through the burning wreckage of the town, heading northwest for the pit which his people had come from. Carrying the unconscious Samana on his back, who remained unaware of the burning demise her friend had seemingly met.
-Chapter 7-
Past
The housings gathered were dusty and alive with commotion, as the wind blew and voices spoke of the happenings at the border fence, the blood, bodies, and…the wounded one.
Sofius had been out like a snuffed candle since the previous day. The man that had taken him in, along with his wife, had the wounded stranger set upon a table. They had washed, stitched, and burned all of his wounds, fixing him up into a living sight, his wounds to grow new scars to befriend his old ones.
The man and his wife sat on a simple, wooden bench, watching from across the room as Sofius was resting quietly.
Several raps upon the door gave way to the rise of the man, and he answered the door, being met by several curious heads. “What is it you want?”
The three spoke, very curious as to the condition and origin of the stranger.
“Is he alive?” “Where’d he come from?” “I don’t think we should be having strangers here, not a good idea at all!”
The man grew tired of the assault and slammed the door wide open, the door hitting hard against the inner wall as the man spoke. “I don’t know! He’s alive, yes. But it is of no concern to us where he comes from, or what he is…all we must know is that he saved my wife, and maybe even the whole of us. Isn’t that good enough for…” The man was unable to finish, as his wife spoke urgently, calling his attention. “Mastus, look, look!”
Mastus left the door and was at his wife’s side, as they looked upon the risen form of the stranger.
Sofius was up, and threw his hood and cloak over his body as he approached the caring husband and wife, smiling with sharpness as he took a knee before them. “Thank you. Your generosity is something that is not found often among my people…or among people of any tradition. I know you are known as Mastus, but would you grace me with the name of the one I saved?”
Mastus smiled upon Sofius as his wife grabbed the stranger’s hand, gesturing him to rise as she spoke. “My name is Yur, and you should not thank us, we must thank you. You saved my life, and maybe all of ours!”
Sofius shook his head, and took the hand of Yur to his cheek and bowed his head in respect. “You have saved my life. Let us call it, a life for a life then?” Yur and her husband nodded upon the thankful one, Sofius releasing Yur’s hand and then looking to the door.
“I must go now and return to my people. The ones that came here could be only a few of what is to come!”
Yur and Mastus were figures of worry as Sofius approached the entrance, the crowd at the door backing away as the curious figure made his exit.
Yur and Mastus left their house and were sturdy at Sofius’ side, Mastus speaking to the wounded one. “You’re still wounded. Those cuts could open again. If you stress yourself too much, you could…” Sofius grabbed the arm of Mastus and spoke in a thankful manner. “I am honored you worry, but I must go...my wife, my child, my people could be in great danger…even your people. They could all be in great danger if I don’t go. So, please, heed my wishes, and let me go!”
Yur looked upon the scarred one with respect for his bravery, and took her husband’s side as she spoke. “We will let you go, but tell us your name before you go.”
Sofius walked down the dusty road, and turned to the two giving and caring strangers, speaking to them his farewell words, crowds of curious men and woman watching and listening as he did. “My name is Sofius. I hope I am wrong and no harm comes to you and your people. Thank you for your kindness and care. I will do well with the life you have saved!”
With his words spoken…Sofius was gone. Running speedily on the morning light, he charged, pushing himself forward with every bit of strength he had.
Mastus and Yur stood on the dusty road, watching as Sofius, the bloodied stranger, fearsome and kind, leapt the border fence and ran onward with great strides. He was a stranger to them, but a hero none the less.
-Chapter 16-
Present
The sun was beaming brightly down upon the open ground. The patchy ground of grass and ash was pounded as the Red Wolf tread speedily across the sunlit plains.
Samana was coming to wakefulness and opened her eyes slowly, feeling sensitive to the light, and feeling her head throbbing a little from being knocked out the previous night.
The young warrior looked ahead, over the shoulder of her bearer, viewing a sunny day and a small patch of forest coming up several miles ahead. It seemed they would make it by night fall.
Closing her eyes, weak and tired, she blacked out on the sturdy back of the furry form of the beast.
Back at the Order, the sun was setting down gentle beams, through the carefree clouds, allowing a good portion of light.
Mensh opened the curtains to the infirmary windows, and let the sunlight in, smiling at the joyous rays. “Ah, sunlight…I’m so glad to see it…”
The healer, Maela, had come to the side of the young one and pulled her arm, asking for her assistance about the room. “Yes, sunlight it is. Now come over here and help me get some food for these two…wake them up while you’re at it, too.”
Maela went over to the medicinal counter and began mashing some fruit with a wooden pestle, as Mensh ruffled the tired form of Henk, awakening her from a deep sleep, as gently as possible. “Hey, Henk, wake up. You guys need to eat. We’ve got some nasty stuff for you to try, more fruit with medicine powder.”
Henk revealed herself from beneath the covers and stretched, yawning heartily, speaking in a tired sort. “Ah, that mashed fruit concoction, again? We’ve had it every day we’ve eaten in here.”
Henk stuck her tongue out, as Amen was awake in his bed, and was peering out the window, watching the sunlight tracing the outlines of clouds on the walls.
Mensh sat next to Henk, and looked at her color. Henk was always pale, as most were at the Order, being sheltered in a stone building all the time, but she still looked a rather ill pale, as she was given a look over by the not so experienced Mensh. “Hmmm…I know the fruit doesn’t quite do it for you, but we’re going to have to get something in you, need to get that color back.”
Henk pulled a confused face. “What color?”
Maela called Mensh over from the bedside, and was finished with making the fruity medicine. Each serving was in a wooden bowl, and was mushy green, red, and orange, with chunks of fruit here and there, and with medicinal powder mixed in, attempting to hide beneath the gathering of fruity flavors, but its sour and bitter flavor still came through.
As Mensh and Maela went to each with their bowl, Henk pulled a look of horror, turning to Amen, and sticking her tongue out. The silent one imitated her, and pulled a kerchief with a tongue on it upon his face, and returned her horrified glare with one of blank expression.
Above, in the high reaches of the tower chamber, Hoosun was taking a silent time with the Mother, she in her throne, and he beside her.
The Mother had her arms stretched out on the smooth, stone arms of her seating, as the owl stood peacefully, but with a worried mind about him.
The Mother Dhahn looked at her friend, and ruffled his feathery hand, as to gain his attention. “Hoosun, what is on your mind?”
The owl tried to hide his worry, and stood straight, looking ahead at the light entering the mouth of the chamber, caressing the stone floor. “Nothing…”
The Mother knew him better than he was making it seem at the moment, and looked as he did. “I know you better than you are projecting at this moment. Tell me. What’s on your mind but the obvious…Samana? It is her, isn’t it?”
The owl knew he could not hide his thoughts from her, and turned to her, looking down at her form in the chair. “Sorry for my projection, it is Samana. I wonder how far she has gotten. She should’ve made it by, now. I wonder if she has, or if something has gone wrong, maybe there’s been a hold up?”
The Mother was at peace, and closed her eyes, responding to her friend. “Do not worry. We will know when she gets there. There will be some kind of sign, I assure you.”
The owl, feeling that she was right, nodded approval of her words, and then stood silently at her side, the two awaiting what was to come next, as silence fell upon them.
The night had come. Samana awoke as she was set upon the ground. It was grassy and soft to the touch. The young warrior was feeling a little better from her bump, and the pain was now only slight.
The Red Wolf walked away from Samana, and cut a nearby bush to shreds with his blade, and threw it into a heap in front of her, and reached his hand inside the bundle, looking upon the beautiful girl’s features, as he lit the bush with fire, formed from his hand, as it was inserted upon the shredded foliage. “We’ll take a stop here for the night...you need water and food, don’t you?”
Samana was curious as to the boy’s way of being, and leaned forward from her spot at the opposite end of the young fire, as the boy grabbed and broke sticks from a nearby tree, and threw them upon the pile, causing the fire to grow. The young girl spoke quietly and tried to avoid any subject that might provoke the beastly boy, whose face was uncovered and open to view. “I guess I could…where’s my friend?”
The boy poked the fire with his blade tip, and sheathed it, speaking to the girl, as he rose. “He’s back at the town, I suppose…”
Samana stood up, and stood face to face with the charcoal boy, losing her temper.
“You mean he’s amongst the ruins, amongst everyone else, all the people you killed?!”
The boy grabbed the girl by the arm, and ran his sharp claws across her soft skin, speaking in monotone. “Yes, he is amongst the ruins. They deserved death, and I dealt it to them!”
Samana pulled her hand from the boy’s grip, scratching her arm, leaving blood to trickle from the sharp cuts, and stepped away from the glaring figure. “How can you decide who deserves death? If they deserve death, then why do I not?”
The charcoal figure walked past Samana, keeping the attention of her eyes, as he approached the flaming pile. “It is not for me to decide. My destiny, my purpose, is to do this…it is why I exist.”
Samana approached the boy from behind, blood trailing down her arm as she held it, trying to stop the bleeding. “You can make a choice. You don’t have to kill…what purpose can I possibly do you, here? You might as well do me in, too…”
The boy shook his head, looking into the burning light, and turned to the girl. His glaring twin flames bathing with her green eyes. “I don’t have a choice, it is my purpose, and as for yours, when I destroy the wretched race of humans and beasts upon this world, I will begin anew, creating a world of the blood of Wolves and Ernai… for that, I am to have a mate.”
Samana stepped back, thinking back to what the Mother had said was a possibility of her purpose, and she was right, or so she was in the eyes of the Red Wolf, as he stared at Samana intently.
The braided-haired girl turned away from the burning eyes, and looked at the ground. “…then it is me?”
The wolf sniffed her. She was sweet, and calming to his senses, like fresh water turning gears inside his flesh. She brought his blood to life.
The boy took her wounded arm in hand, and surveyed the blood, speaking to her with his monotone voice. “It is you. I saw your image in my dreams, dreams I had been experiencing for many months, and then I saw you, and now you’re here, with me. You are the one…”
Samana looked up at the charcoal-skinned one, and saw the embers on his face dance, while the flames in his eyes flickered, softly. “I guess it is not my choice then…it is as you say.”
The boy took Samana to the fireside, taking place upon the ground. Taking favor with the words she had just spoken, he began to work on her scratches. Taking a few leaves, and wrapping them with a soft twine of thick foliage from a bush.
Samana asked the boy about his home, making small talk, as the boy finished the wrapping on her arm. “What’s it like where you come from?”
The beastly figure tied a knot on Samana’s arm, and looked at her, as the moonlight hit her facial features, lighting them perfectly in the night. “It’s a vast desert, dangerous and windy. The sands are sharp, and with the constant wind, have caused scaring among my people. It’s like razors on your skin when you’re not covered, and you’re out in it.”
Samana looked out to the sky above, and saw the moon slithering calmly. “Sounds dangerous, my father never took us through there. He said it was dangerous, as you are telling me, now.”
Something was strung hard in the boy, as he heard the mention of the word “father”. “Was your father good, what was he like?”
Samana noticed that the boy seemed rather interested in her father, just the idea of a father, it seemed. Deciding that it may be a good way to get through to the beastly boy, Samana told him what he asked of. “He was very good…he was handsome, even with his battle scars. He was caring, and protective, always had the back of anyone that was known to him. He was the great leader of our clan, the Dawn Bringers. He always protected me and my sister…no matter what, he would die for us.”
The wolf felt admiration for this human. Her father was one of great stature to him, and he decided he wanted to know more about the girl’s life. “I’ve heard some tales of these Dawn Bringers, but not much…actually very little…where is your father now?”
Samana felt sad at the thought, and tried not to show it physically, but set her arm to droop her figure upon, as she spoke. “He’s gone...”
The boy inquired more, curious as to what “gone” meant in words. “He’s gone? What do you mean gone? Is your sister still…alive?”
Samana played with her braids, and pulled some dirt from the ground, tossing it into the fire, as she spoke. “He’s…he’s just gone…and my sister as well…”
The boy felt bad for prying and stood from the ground. “I’m sorry for prying…I lost my father, too…I know what it’s like to lose one so close…”
Samana accepted the apology, and brushed it off. “It’s quite okay…it was meant to be I guess, and I’m sorry for your loss.”
The boy walked past Samana, the young warrior questioning him. “Where are you going?”
The boy s
topped, and turned his head to her, before continuing on his way. “I’m going to get you food and water. Stay here.”
The boy swept himself into the foliage, and left Samana by the fire, alone.
Samana stretched out on the cool grass, and felt the touch of the moonlight on her skin, as she began pondering and planning.
After about an hour alone, Samana arose from the ground, as the boy returned from the wild foliage, bearing luscious fruit with him. Each fruit was packed with a great amount of fluid for Samana to drink and hydrate herself with.
Samana accepted the food thankfully, as the boy offered it to her.
As Samana ate, the boy watched. The braided-haired girl took a fruit and tossed it at the boy, as it hit his armored chest, and fell, rolling across the ground. “You should eat?” Samana commanded, as the boy scraped the fruit with a sharp claw and played with it, speaking. “I don’t eat. My body is sustained without food, or water. I get all I need from the wolf spirits in me.”
Samana noted the information, and finished her piece of fruit, green and juicy, and then tossed the core aside, as she watched the moon falling. “Oh…I see, well, did your father want you to be this, I mean, did he agree with it?”
The boy pierced the flesh of the fruit in his grasp, juices pouring from the wounds inflicted upon it, as he spoke with a sound of annoyance. “There was no choice. He didn’t care what I was. He loved me no matter what, whether this form or another, he would love me.”
Samana put her hand to the beasts grasp on the fruit, but he removed his hand and stood above her, as she spoke. “I didn’t mean it in that way…I just…”
The charcoal boy barred his sharp fangs, and looked out as the moon was passing the horizon. The sun was soon to be up. “We must go. There is still much ground to cover. Let’s go, now.”
Samana should not have pressured the subject of his father, and knew in the future not to do so, if she planned to try and change his mind as she did.