Mara emerged from the crag onto a rock ledge overlooking an immeasurable jungle far below. Durin stood near the edge facing away from her.
“Come and stand next to me.”
His voice might have startled one less prepared than Mara. She moved to stand beside him and looked out over the jungle; to her, such a beautiful sight, and yet so frightening at the same time.
“Look forward and not behind,” he told her as he stepped back.
Mara observed the jungle closely. She was to face her trial out there. ‘What could it possibly be’, she wondered. She swallowed as her excitement mixed with the smallest bit of fear. What was she looking for? Was the test the same for everyone? It must be harder for some than others. Everyone knew how skilled she was. Her test must be something exceedingly difficult if it was to be, as her father had said, “a testing of the spirit.”
Something caused her to look down and she noticed the ledge gave way to a steep slope of solid rock. She followed it down…down…down until it ended in what appeared to be another cliff.
“What do you see?” came her brother’s voice.
“I see a cliff, and endless green before me,” she replied, and it seemed to her, as the wind blew through the short strands of her hair, that she was speaking her fate.
“It is the land of the Kru-iss.”
The name made the hairs on the back of Mara’s neck stand on end. Her heart beat madly in her chest. A thick cloth came in front of her eyes as she was blindfolded. Mara tensed, her breathing becoming quick, but did not resist as Durin tied the knot.
What could he possibly have in mind?
“Now what do you see?”
Mara swallowed. Her throat was dry. Her palms were sweaty. Her fists were clenched tight as she tried desperately to gain control of her emotions.
“I see only darkness,” she managed.
“This is your Wilderness Journey. You must face the darkness of the Kru-iss in the heart of their land. Do not remove the blindfold until the morning sun warms your skin.”
“Durin,” Mara was barely able to make the words come forth. “They will kill me. They will…rape my spirit. This cannot be right!”
She was met only with silence.
“Durin,” She said, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. “Please…do not make me do this.”
“Find righteousness, my dear sister,” Durin’s voice finally came. “It is your only escape. Fare well.”
Her breath was racing as fast as her heartbeat.
“Durin-“
A force in her back sent her tumbling forwards. She tumbled painfully down the rocky slope. She scrambled for any handholds, but could find none. She tumbled onto her back and began sliding, her skin shredding beneath her, pain rippling through her body. Her mind registered only a fraction of it, however. She was far too engulfed in dread and fear. Again, she reached her fingers to grasp handholds. Her reward was skinned hands and fingertips. Her slide suddenly turned upward and she felt the ground beneath her disappear. She began to fall. Her mind raced. She felt herself falling into a deep abyss. She screamed. She could feel herself being swallowed up by some great evil. Her back struck something hard and a deafening crack jarred her ears. Another impact and all awareness went from her.
************
She awoke to more darkness. Something heavy lay upon her. She moved an arm and felt the sting of the many abrasions she had suffered on the way down. Realizing where she was, the fear once again overtook her and she froze in utter terror. She lay there for some time, her mind going in circles between what would become of her, to prayers to the gods, to wondering what she had done to deserve such a wicked banishment. At last, she could hold herself no more. Her mind broke down and she began to weep.
************
Mara winced as her foot stepped on a rock. She limped over it and kept moving. She had been walking for hours. She had heard no sounds as she walked, but the sounds of her own footfalls. There were no insects. No animals jittering or scuttling. There was only her. Were it not for her outstretched hand finding plant life before her, she would question whether she had not truly fallen into the Dark Abyss where it is said that the most horrid of all Kru-iss await for their freedom to wreak vengeance on all of mankind. But that was not where she was. She was merely in the forest of their earthly realm. A place said to be inhabited by the lesser of the demon spirits. But a lesser Kru-iss was still a Kru-iss. And her people feared them more than any one thing on the face of Sylrin.
Why had her people damned her to such a fate? Was it because she was not a warrior? Was it because her skills far exceeded any other test? Her father had said it was a testing of the spirit. Was she to succeed only by keeping the demons from ripping her soul from her body? How was she to accomplish such an impossible task? How was she, flesh and blood, to fight a spirit which has neither?
No. It could not be that. It was rejection. They had abandoned her. But why? What had she done? Had she not lived her life in righteousness? Had she not already proven herself? And why her brother…her dearest brother…why had he not stopped them? Why had he-
Mara sunk to her knees, her tears flowing freely once again, as the crushing weight of the thought came down on her. She clasped her arms, crippled with grief.
“Why, Durin, why…” her lips moved repeatedly without sound.
Something sounded behind her that caused the young woman’s tears to suddenly cease. It was a low growl that sounded as if it were mixed with a deep guffaw. It echoed around her and she immediately jumped to her feet and wheeled around, her body in a defensive stance, her heart racing. She still could see nothing but the darkness of the cloth before her eyes. She stood there a moment, not knowing what to expect. She heard no movement, sensed no presence. Only fear within and evil without.
At last she spoke, meaning to sound fierce, though only a whisper came forth.
“Come…come at me if you dare.”
The growl again sounded behind her and she spun around only to be met with an impact of tremendous force that sent her flying backwards. She hit what felt like a solid rock wall and felt herself suddenly clamped down onto it as the air went from her lungs. Her arms were held to her sides as she struggled for breath. She managed to bring her legs up and kick forward, but they met only air. Something pierced her chest. Her lungs suddenly filled with air and she cried out. The thing dug deeper and spread up the middle of her chest. She could feel her chest splitting open, her sternum cracking and splitting. She screamed, wept, and whimpered with everything that was in her. She was dying! They were killing her! She felt her ribs crack as they were bent backwards. Waves of pain rippled continually through her. She screamed and whimpered, her face soaked with tears and mucus. She did not know how, but she still lived and was fully aware of every searing sensation. She felt icy hands slither across her body, down the surfaces of her broken rib cage, and wrap themselves around her still-beating heart.
Mara’s eyes shot open. The blindfold was gone and she saw a modest campfire blazing before her. She looked down and moved her hands to her chest. Her body was whole! There were not even phantom pains remaining of her torture. She now sat cross-legged on the ground in front of the fire. Her heartbeat was calm. What had happened? Where was she?
She stood up and looked around. She was somewhere in the prairies of her home, but she knew not where. A warrior’s staff lay on the ground near the fire. Whose it was, she could not tell. The stars shone brightly in the nighttime sky and she stared at their beauty a moment. They seemed to her more brilliant than they ever had. She searched, but did not find the constellation that was the sign of her people, the place where those who had ascended to warrior queens and kings presided in righteousness. She saw the place where they ought, but saw no stars. They were simply…gone.
The smallest flash of light blinked in the gap and Mara immediately jumped and rolled as something impacted with terrible force the ground where she had been standing. She rolled to one knee
and shook the dust from her head. The campfire had been extinguished, yet she could still see.
The former campsite was a cloud of dust quickly settling. She saw movement of some massive body. The thing that rose out of the dust was great and terrible; a beast long and lizard-like. Its body was a mile if it was an inch and covered in blood that tried to pass itself off as shimmering scales. Its four claws as large as the largest tree basins stomped the ground as its enormous jaws opened wide and let out a deafening roar. The hot wind blew over Mara, clearing the dust from her body.
It was a Kru-iss. She had no doubt.
This time, however, Mara was not afraid. Taking up the staff, she charged the beast with a ferocious cry. Dodging his jaws, she rolled to her feet, jumped and struck the monster in its massive eye. The creature reeled and then came at her again. This time Mara leapt up, planted her hands on the top of the monster’s snout, flipped, and came down hard with the end of her staff into its hardened flesh. The creature exploded in a massive wave of blood. Mara rolled with the force, finally landing on her feet and sliding backwards, her stance ready for another attack. But no attack came. The creature was gone.
A soft glow in her peripheral grabbed her attention and she looked down to see her staff glowing with a soft, but growing light. The staff levitated from her grip, its aura growing into a shining light that consumed the staff. The light then splintered, dispersed into the immediate area around her, and finally formed to the shapes of men and women. Mara looked around and found herself surrounded by the ghostly figures. Their dress was that of her people and in the hand of every one was a warrior’s staff. She knew not who they were. Something tugged at her, telling her this was wrong. She kept her guard up.
“Little Pila.”
Mara whipped around to see a particular figure step forward. She immediately recognized it as her mother’s brother who had gone to be a traveling warrior long ago. His address was exactly what he used to call her when she was a child. Still, the nagging feeling that something was amiss had not left her and she remained on guard.
“Uncle?” she said, guardedly.
“Yes, Mara,” The man responded, his aged features forming a smile upon his face. “I have attained righteousness and gone to be with our ancestors and the gods of our people. We have come to bless you on your Wilderness Journey. You are to be a warrior, just as your ancestors here before you, and a queen as the stars foretold. We shall grant you righteousness and you shall become a mighty goddess on the earth and rule Maranaria’s children in the earthly realm forever.”
“How is that to be?” Mara asked. “I have not yet passed my Wilderness Journey. The Kru-iss-“
“You have defeated,” her uncle interrupted. “By the faith in your warrior’s staff granted to your hands and imbued with the spirit of Maranaria herself. We all exist within her and have granted righteousness to all who have passed their Wilderness Journey. Open yourself to us and we will fill you with her spirit, righteousness, and all her power. You shall be a Warrior Queen at last.”
Mara’s heart jumped in her throat. Something was terribly wrong. His promises spoke to everything she had hoped for since her earliest memories. She stood on the edge of a cliff, wanting desperately to leap out and embrace those promises. But something held her back, something not of herself. It told her that this was wrong; that there was a dark lie beneath the gentle smile and smooth words of her beloved uncle.
“I do not understand,” Mara stated. “Why have none of the others spoken of your visiting them?”
“You know the matters of one’s Wilderness Journey are deeply personal and not easily discussed.”
That made sense to Mara and she felt herself nudged ever closer to the edge of that cliff. Still, she did not trust her uncle’s words. She stared at him. He was the very image of the uncle she remembered, the one she loved dearly. She wanted to trust him. But the something was still there, whispering in the back of her mind that something was terribly wrong. As much as she wanted this for herself, she felt she could not ignore that voice. And so she could not accept it.
“I am greatly honored, Uncle,” she said, not daring to bow, yet being careful not to fully reject him. “But I must consider this. It is a heavy matter.”
“Little Pila,” her uncle said kindly as he stepped up to her. And it seemed to Mara he was spitting vomit rather than saying his name for her. “Do not be afraid.”
He extended his hand. Mara merely stared at him and suddenly felt bold in the face of her beloved uncle.
“Why do you deceive?” she stated. “This is wrong. Speak truth to me, if you are as you say.”
Mara’s hands flew up, barely managing to parry the swing of her uncle’s staff. Before she knew it she was engaged in full-out battle with her supposed uncle. At first she only dodged and parried. But as the attack continued, her anger began to flare until a parry turned into an attack and she found the back of her fist striking her uncle in the face. He reeled. Mara stood ready, slightly regretting the action, but no less feeling it necessary. In a moment she was engulfed as all the warriors around her closed in on her and began to attack her. These she was not nearly so reserved in striking. Swing after swing came her way. She parried or dodged every attack, moving in a flurry and striking back, knocking back warrior after warrior. Still they surrounded her and still she defended and attacked, taking no blows to herself, fully capable of defending herself against a multitude of attacks.
Suddenly, she found herself again one-on-one with her uncle. His swings were fierce and quick, but still no match for Mara. By now the young woman was sick of whatever falsity was going on and she did not reserve herself in counter-attacking this being masquerading as her uncle.
She dodged a swing to her leg, then using her hands to block his recovery, brought her knee up into the back of his hand, crushing the bones. Her uncle shouted in pain and reeled. She went after him. Now he was the one parrying, or rather barely managing to as Mara relentlessly assaulted him. Another knee struck his other wrist and a crack was heard as well as another shout of pain. Her other knee came up and knocked the staff into the air. Mara caught it as her foot slammed into his chest, knocking him to the ground. Mara twirled and brought the staff down towards his head-
“Mara!”
Mara halted her staff an inch from its target. The voice was not her uncle’s. It was Durin’s.
Mara stood still, her breath heavy. There was darkness before her. The warm sun was beating down upon her skin. Where was she? Immediately, she reached up and removed the blindfold and beheld a horrid sight. There, lying on the ground before her was Durin. He lay also breathing heavy, one hand crushed, the other hanging limp. His eyes stared up at her in calming fear.
Mara dropped the staff she held and her hands went to mouth. Her eyes widened and welled up with tears. What had she done?
**************
Mara lifted the water pouch and allowed Durin a long drink. Durin then wiped his mouth with his arm and thanked his sister who resumed her seat next to him in the shade of a great tree. After she had recovered from the shock of seeing During lying injured and helpless before her, Mara had shot out a quick begging of forgiveness and then helped her brother to set the bones in his hand and wrist. She had then carefully wrapped and splinted them with sticks and thick leaves to keep them from moving. The two sat quietly beneath the tree. Durin sat waiting for Mara to speak. Mara sat frightened, not knowing what to say.
The emotions of all she had gone through ran through her as she sat there. She at last settled on speaking to him as she always had. Though in truth, she could not help a little bitterness slide out in her words as tears began to slide down her cheeks.
“What were you doing here?” she asked without looking at him.
Durin leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes.
“Watching over you,” was his reply. “All who take their Wilderness Journey are watched over by another who has passed, should their life be in danger.”
>
“My soul was in danger, Durin,” Mara looked at him. “And now yours is too just by being here. I almost killed you-“
Mara covered her face and turned away. She sputtered a breath, her hand shaking as she attempted desperately to contain herself.
Durin looked at her. His heart broke for her, but he knew there was nothing he could do but find out what happened. So that’s what he asked.
After a moment, Mara got a hold of herself and related the events of her attack and then her vision.
“I awoke only a moment before I removed the blindfold,” she concluded. “Why, what did you see?”
“I followed you through the forest once you got out from under the branches,” Durin stated. “I saw you sink to your knees and then stand up and whirl about. You whispered something I did not hear. I wondered if you had somehow heard me, though I had not moved since you had stopped. You whirled again and…”
Mara looked at him. He was having trouble finding the words.
“You…fell back to the ground. You struggled for breath, your arms stuck to your sides and your legs were kicking. You…started screaming. I think you called out to the gods once or twice. Then…you started whimpering, crying, as if someone was killing you. I could do nothing but sit and watch you. I was so scared for you.”
Mara watched her brother’s face. It was riddled with those very emotions he described and she could see he was reliving every painful moment.
“Then, just as quickly, you ceased your crying…and your body…went limp.” His voice cracked at the last words and he looked away as he continued. “I thought perhaps…but then you moved. Slowly, you came to your feet. I would have run to embrace you, but I knew your test was not over, not until the sun had risen.
Half-Orc Redemption Page 36