Echoes of a Shattered Age

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Echoes of a Shattered Age Page 30

by R. J. Terrell


  The rock beings listened as the five companions spoke of their mission and all that had happened. In time both parties began to enjoy each other’s company, and the last of the tension dissolved. Kenyatta and Kita taught some of the younger rock warriors the dance of Capoeira. Again, the warriors noted that the ground did not shake one time when the hulking rock creatures moved in friendliness.

  Their unlikely hosts proved to be quite fun and caring creatures. Although the second in command remained aloof, most of the others, after some time, had come to enjoy the humans.

  “Long has it been since talk with humans we have.” It was Marblehead, the leader of the Stonecliff Clan, who spoke.

  “I regret the past that humans have with your kind,” Akemi responded. “When did you have dealings with humans? I have never heard of, grongolians, before.”

  “Many ages past,” Marblehead answered. “Very early ages we see humans, and were curious. Ages ago deal with humans our kind did. In time, humans forget because not long they live. In our lifetime, many, many generations of humans come and go. Sometimes different, your children are, and changes they make.” A pained, distant expression crossed Marblehead’s rigid features.

  “Think better than us they did. Shun us, they did. Use us as tools they wanted, until leave, we decide. After many, many years, try to make friends again, our people did.” He let out a deep sigh that sounded like wind passing through a hollow tunnel. “Forget, humans do, and fear us they did. Many die, many wounded. Impossible it was to beat big weapons they had.” Marblehead’s bright green eyes seemed to dim. “Leave we did and never deal with humans again we vowed.”

  “The same others do too,” came a voice from behind them. Little Granite came to stand with the group. “Many others, there are, that like humans not. Dangerous you are, and avoid you they do.”

  Akemi shook her head. “Everything you say is true, I cannot deny that.” Marblehead tried to put his massive hand on her shoulder, but ended up covering her entire shoulder and most of her back. She stumbled forward under that frighteningly strong grasp and smiled, appreciating the effort of the gentle leader.

  “Perhaps, changed your people have,” he offered.

  Her smile was sad. “Perhaps, but I would say that you should still be careful in dealing with humans. Some of us are accepting, but many would still strike out at you in fear.”

  Marblehead let out another regretful sigh. “More time,” he agreed.

  Kenjiro sat with two grongolians by the names of Quickrock and Grok. Quickrock had explained that he earned his name by his unusual speed among their kind. Kenjiro smiled, rubbing his still stinging head. Quickrock seemed to blush—if that was possible—in guilt until Kenjiro assured him that there was no ill feeling. Shinobu walked up to join them just as they had begun planning.

  “They say that there is a way we can escape this valley and still send the signal to our horses,” he said as the strider sat down beside Grok.

  “Tunnel we do,” Grok explained, “and help you we can. Unnatural this sandstorm is. Long, it lasts.”

  “We think it was created by the one that seeks to destroy Takashaniel,” Kenjiro said.

  “Magic, he uses.”

  “Powerful magic,” Kenjiro responded.

  Shinobu spotted the second in command and excused himself. The big rock warrior was massive, at least seven feet tall, and more than half that in width. His arms were thicker than the strider’s body, and even his fingers were as thick as Shinobu’s arms.

  “Need your friendship, I do not,” he spat. “Untrustworthy humans are, and turn my back on you I will not.”

  Shinobu smiled and tipped his head. “Then we have something in common.”

  Upon seeing the responding curiosity, the strider continued. “I rarely associate with my kind. I tend to be … untrusting.” He looked at the big grongolian. “I don’t ask you for your trust or friendship, but if you are willing, I would like to at least ask you to share a drink with me.” The strider pulled out a flask and held it up.

  The rock man looked skeptical. “Only a drop it is.”

  “Only a drop you need,” the strider replied with a grin.

  He stiffened and looked down at the small human. “Drink, we do not.”

  “Every living thing has to consume something,” Shinobu said, unscrewing the cap. He filled it and then the big grongolian grabbed the entire flask from him.

  “Um, I don’t think that would be wise,” the strider chuckled.

  “Fragile you humans are, tougher are grongolians!”

  The strider laughed and lifted his cap to the other. “We’ll see.”

  The big rock warrior watched as Shinobu put the cap to his lips and with a backward jerk of his head, swallowed the contents. Warily, the rock man looked at the flask and then sniffed the opening.

  “Like spiced swamp scum it smells,” he said, wrinkling his nose, which looked like pebbles stacking on top of each other.

  “I promise it will taste more harsh, my friend,” Shinobu replied.

  With another skeptical look at the strider, he swallowed the drink in one gulp, and sat for a moment.

  “Not so strong this drink is,” he scoffed. Shinobu nodded with a smile, pretending not to notice the strain in the rock warrior’s voice, and the stiffness in his posture.

  “You are a strong one indeed, friend. I have never met anyone who could pretend that his insides didn’t feel like they were melting as it went down.” And he could see that the drink was doing its work, for the giant warrior actually laughed at the statement, although it sounded more like a rockslide.

  “Bouldarius my name is. General and second in command of the Stonecliff Clan, I am.”

  Shinobu tipped his head. “Shinobu,” he responded, “Farstrider.” He glanced over his shoulder at Kenjiro and the two stone warriors sitting with him.

  “Your friends say that you can help us send the signal to our horses and escape this valley.”

  “Assume you do, that help you we will,” Bouldarius replied, a bit sharply. “Strong your drink is, but dim my mind it does not, Shinobu, Par Rider.”

  * * *

  After some time, and a lot of laughs, Kita managed to get Obsidius and Quickrock to do the basic dance of Capoeira, and they did it with surprisingly fluid motion. Although the sight of big stone people moving from side to side was a bit cumbersome and silly-looking, it was still quite a sight and did well to loosen any lingering tension between the two groups.

  Kenyatta’s two students learned quickly, and the lessons had turned into a challenge. Although they were not as graceful as their teacher, the rock warriors managed to copy some of the kicks—if only waist high—and even a spin or two without falling much. Then they challenged Kenyatta to try a few of their techniques, mostly consisting of rolls and trampling movements. To Kenyatta, they looked clumsy, but there was a tactic there that he didn’t miss. The contest became so competitive that it attracted the attention of everyone in the cave. Even Shinobu and that big general came to watch. At first, Kenyatta held back, not wanting to show off in front of their new friends. After prodding from his companions as well as the Stonecliff Clan, he went into a series of spins, flips, and aerial kicks that left the stone warriors staring in amazement.

  Kita leapt into the circle and Kenyatta spun to face him, smiling. They faced each other, slightly bent forward, dancing left to right, the dance of Capoeira. Kita spun backwards with an inside-to-outside crescent kick. At the same time, Kenyatta ducked with a backward sweep that slid across the space where Kita’s kicking foot had been. When his foot reached its highest point, Kita brought it straight down just as Kenyatta spun away. He followed with the same backward sweep that Kenyatta had just done.

  Once again, with perfect timing, Kenyatta—with one hand on the ground—spun backward and whipped his leg around with a kick where Kita’s head had just been. The dance went on for quite some time, and the Stonecliff Clan seemed to have as much fun watching as the two givi
ng the performance.

  Akemi watched in surprise, a smile crossing her face. Kenjiro raised an eyebrow and nodded, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. The two friends danced left, then right, then left, then right. As if reading each other’s thoughts, Kenyatta changed direction and went right again while Kita continued to dance to the left. In that instant, they both leaped into a one-handed cartwheel past each other, and then using the momentum, both did a second cartwheel using no hands. As soon as they landed, they simultaneously dropped into a pose called the K kick, standing on one hand, with one leg kicking horizontally over the head, and the other leg kicking vertically into the air. They held this pose for several seconds, before falling back to their feet.

  The Stonecliff Clan clapped and stomped with excitement, and the cavern shook as the grongolians fell this way and that as they tried to imitate the two warriors. The night passed in fun with the telling of stories, jokes and trading traditions. The two peoples learned quite a bit about each other that night, and even the more apprehensive grongolians came to talk and listen. Soon the five human warriors had earned the clan’s trust and respect, and the beginnings of friendship formed.

  “Hope for the future you bring us,” Marblehead said. “In time become friends again, we hope.”

  “Time,” Akemi said. “It will take time, but humans will change, and with the absence of technology, things have begun to change faster than ever.”

  Marblehead nodded at that. “Morning we will come to help, and on your way you will be.”

  “Thank you.”

  The festivities continued on for a while longer into the night, but gradually the grongolians began to retire, sinking back into the walls of the cavern. After the last of their new rock friends had gone, the five warriors stood looking around, and then to each other.

  “Anyone else wondering if they’re asleep?” Shinobu said, breaking the silence.

  “We just made friends with a clan of creatures that we never knew existed,” Kita stated as if in a trance.

  “I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it for myself,” Kenyatta said.

  “I think I still don’t,” Shinobu said. Kenyatta and Kita looked at each other and then back at the walls, then to the mouth of the cave where the unnaturally powerful sandstorm continued to ravage the valley.

  “We really need to get to that tower,” Kita said, arranging a sleeping palette around the campfire.

  Despite everyone’s objections, Akemi took first watch. She sat only a few feet from the group, keeping her sight from the campfire so as not to lose her night vision. From time to time she saw that Shinobu was having a restless sleep.

  Finally, he stood and moved to sit beside her, studying her face.

  “You still feel the pain of our last fight,” he said.

  “At times my whole body feels cold, then I feel like I’m hot on the outside and cold on the inside, then the opposite. Then at times I feel some dark feelings creeping inside me.” She shivered.

  “I’ve been having some of the most morbid nightmares I have ever had in my life,” the strider said. “These dreams are most disturbing, and quite real.” He slid back the sleeve on his right arm to show a four-inch scar on his forearm.

  “I got this the other night when fighting a strange gray and black striped beast with a mouth the size of your body. It reared and scratched my arm, and that’s when I woke from the dream to find you stirring in your sleep, as well.” Akemi inspected the wound.

  “They try to kill you in your sleep, and me through the sickness that pit demon cast on me.”

  “Then we must work together,” the strider said. “Before we go to sleep, we must meditate on each other and unite in our dreams. If they can enter our dreams or use residual energy on you while you sleep, then we should be able to link in our dreams and fight together.”

  Akemi nodded. “Hopefully we’ll discourage them and get a restful sleep soon.”

  With a confirming nod from the strider, Akemi left him to take watch and lay beside her brother. Whether the evil poisoning her could sense hers and the strider’s resolve, or just through luck, her rest was mostly peaceful.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “I’ve never seen a night this dark,” Mira said. “The stillness is unnatural, and I feel uneasy.” She and Iel stared out the window at the blackened fields. “The forces seem unmoved, though.”

  Iel stood beside his student, hands clasped behind his back. “It takes more than darkness to shake a warrior, my young pupil, and magical warriors are altogether unshakable. You need not worry about morale out there.”

  “I feel small in this,” Mira said. “Like there is nothing I can contribute.”

  “Your contributions are dependent upon you and you alone,” Iel replied. “If you feel that you should stay here, that is fine. If you wish to join in the fight directly, that is your choice as well.”

  Mira could tell by the expression on her teacher’s face that he would prefer for her to stay within the relative safety of the tower.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I want to help, but I don’t know how. My skill is underdeveloped, and I can sense these things that approach us now … they’re stronger than anything I could have imagined. I can’t deny the fear that I feel.” She looked at her teacher in shame.

  Iel smiled. “If you would have denied your fear, I would never have allowed you to fight.” He smiled wider at the young woman’s confused look. “Anxiety is a natural feeling and helps us to stay alive. If you were to go out there relaxed and unconcerned, how careless would you be? When you have no nervousness or anxiety, you are less cautious. The difference between a skilled warrior and an untested one, is not whether they feel fear, but how well they manage it. Fear holds us back until we learn to use it as an opportunity to grow. If you can summon the courage to face that which you are afraid of, then that fear will weaken.”

  “You don’t seem worried at all,” Mira said.

  “He then looked back out at the darkened landscape. “Yet worry, I do …” the Ilanyan’s features darkened and he moved for the door. “They come,” he said.

  The statement made Mira’s blood run cold and her heart fluttered. She had difficulty breathing and the room suddenly felt hot. With an effort, she marshaled her nerves and steadied her breathing again. Finally, having regained her composure, she followed her teacher out the door and caught up to him just as he was stepping onto the elevating platform.

  “I’m nervous,” she said. “Terrified actually. But I’m here.” She stepped onto the platform next to her beaming teacher.

  “You have come far,” Iel remarked.

  “I have a good teacher,” she replied.

  * * *

  A few hours before sunlight, the five warriors were awake and packed to leave. The Stonecliff Clan had finished a tunnel underneath the canyon floor and had begun angling it toward the surface, a safe distance outside the raging sandstorm. The humans were amazed at the clan’s ability to manipulate all forms of rock, including the ability to listen to the earth and feel what was happening to the land.

  “How did you get your name anyway?” Kenyatta asked Marblehead.

  The stone leader tapped his fist against the top of his head, which made an echoing thud. “On my head a boulder fell, when young I was,” he said in his usual, rumbling voice that made Kenyatta’s chest vibrate.

  “From far up it fell, a hundred feet maybe. A long time it took me to get better, but surprised others were that survive I did. My name, this is how I got.”

  “That sounds like a nickname,” Kenyatta observed. “You didn’t have a name before that?”

  “From experience grongolians give names. A year, maybe ten, fifteen could be.”

  “Fifteen years without a name!” Kenyatta said, incredulous. “How could you go that long without a name?”

  The clan leader smiled. “Short lives humans live, and impatient you are. Many years grongolians live, maybe two hundred
years, maybe three hundred. Fifteen or twenty or thirty years, a young child still.” Kenyatta just shook his head, unable to wrap his mind around such a lifespan.

  Behind them, conversations and well wishes were being exchanged. Kenyatta and the grongolian leader turned to see the other four humans practically surrounded by their unlikely hosts.

  “I guess it’s time for us to go,” Kenyatta said.

  Marblehead nodded. “Come.”

  General Obsidius, who hesitantly accepted the order given to him, explained the preparations they had made. “Already see you can, that to the surface this hole above you goes.” He then pointed to Kenjiro, who stood with his back against a wall farthest from the hole. “Behind him the path of the strongest wind travels. That direction you face, when up you go.” Then he pointed to a path to his right that extended into darkness. “Outside the valley that path leads, and in the direction you want, so your whistle you blow, and leave you will.”

  Despite his curtness and eagerness to be rid of the humans, it was obvious that the stone general had grown fond of them. Shinobu smiled to himself. He and Obsidius had become something like friends, although the big rock-man would never admit it. He offered his hand to the stern captain. “Hopefully we will meet again.

  “Doubt it I do, because avoid humans we do.”

  Shinobu repressed a smirk. “Of course,” he said.

  Akemi had secured her supplies in a small pile next to her brother and stood beneath the opening in the ceiling. Next to her was Quickrock, the same young one who had dropped in the middle of them and bound them in stone tentacles. “Strong the sand winds are, and cut they do.” The young grongolian’s voice was much lighter than Marblehead’s or Obsidius’s, but still carried several times as much bass as any human she had ever met. “Not long the walls will hold, so fast you must be.”

  “I only need a few seconds,” the ninja responded.

  “All you will have,” Quickrock informed her. “Magical is this storm, and like razor the sand is. In seconds, wall is gone.”

 

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