“Are they searching for you?” Dalistra asks.
He turns Dalistra around, looking for eyes or something on the bow, but sees just a few faint symbols before asking, “How can you see that?”
“Not now. If you pass, I will tell you later,” she states.
“Why are they looking for you?” she asks. Mashaun thinks about his answer for a moment.
“WHAT! YOU ARE A NAJ TEWB.” Dalistra exclaims, trying to maintain her pompousness.
“Quiet, they’ll hear you,” Mashaun says whispering, glancing about to see if anyone hears.
“Don’t worry, they can’t hear me. If you survive, I will also explain that to you lalso.”
“If I survive, quit saying if I survive. You said I am a survivor.”
“By the way, what did you call me, a naj tewb? What’s that anyway?”
“You are an off worlder and not from Hauv Pem, I mean here.”
Their conversation stops when the leader comes around the cage, looking at her prize catch. The scene plays out before his eyes, just like in the dream. He knows what she is going to do before she does it, and Dalistra senses it. Mashaun can’t hear what she has says to a man in chain armor, but he barks a command, and several of the remaining men head to the forest line to join the search. One of the guards yanks a young girl out of the cage. He can tell that they are asking her something, but the young girl keeps shaking her head no. The woman slaps her to the ground; then, the guard yanks her back up to her knees, and the girl continues to shake her head, only to receive a slap again.
“OK, what do you want me to do?” asks Mashaun.
“You know what will happen, don’t you? So pick your target and shoot,” Dalistra tells him. Without a second thought, Mashaun looks at the woman holding the staff and the man holding the girl’s chain. He considers the options and decides that the best course of action is to shoot the woman. It is a long shot, about seventy-five yards, but she’s still the closest target, and with her being the leader, maybe he can change his vision.
This should be good, he thinks. “I don’t know what the drop will be, and I have not had any time to sight in the bow.” Muttering to himself.
“Don’t worry about that. Just visualize where you want to hit her,” she tells him. It dawns on Mashaun that he has not mentioned shooting her. She knows that is what he is planning on doing, after all, that’s the only shot that makes any sense.
“OK,” he replies after a short hesitation. Cradling the bow in his palm and wrapping his forefinger gently around it, he slowly draws the string back, feeling it biting into his fingers. It seems a little light to make the shot, but he can hear Dalistra saying, “Focus on the target.” She loves feeling her limbs flexing, like waking up in the morning, and his soft but firm grip around her body. It has been a long time since anybody held her that she is lost in own soothing thoughts before snapping back to reality. Dalistra tells him to shoot for the forehead showing him where to aim.
He releases the string, launching the arrow through the air like a missile as Dalistra lurches forward in his hand, catching him by surprise with her force. The arrow flies true, piercing the Mage’s upper chest leaving only the fletching exposed. After seeing the arrow hit its mark, he reaches for a second arrow, which seems to jump into his hand. The woman stands for a second, looking at the fletching in disbelief before collapsing on the ground. The guard with the rope stares at the arrow then glances at the cave. Mashaun launches a second arrow at the armed man holding the woman, hitting him in the shoulder, forcing him to release the girl. The female prisoner scrambles under the wagon and curls up into a fetal position, hiding her head.
Several archers release their arrows toward the cave and Mashaun leans back against the wall as their arrows fall short. He manages to drop one of the archers before they advance toward the cave. With Dalistra’s range and power, Mashaun realizes that he has the advantage, picking them off before they can get within range of their bows. Some of the swordsmen charge the cave, falling victim to Dalistra’s arrows before they make it to the rockslide. A few archers get within range, using the wagon as cover, sending arrows into the cave, bouncing off the rock as they whiz past.
Mai jumps in surprise, seeing arrows bouncing off the walls, almost hitting her, freezing in disbelief and fear. She flees to the back to the safety of the back of the cave. Crouching behind the table of food with her hands over her ears, trying in vain to block out the sound of bouncing arrows, muttering, “It’s not real, I need to wake up” over and over.
CHAPTER 3
http://www.thesilaprophecy.com/glossary
The Prisoners
The arrows continue to fly until the wagon guards run away or laying dead in the meadow. The one wearing the chain must have fled the battle. He assumes that one got away along with the horses. Nearly a dozen bodies and pools of blood litter the once pristine meadow. Mashaun scans the distant tree line, looking for any movement. His string fingers are numb and sore at the same time with a layer of skin missing from the fingertips. The meadow is silent, even the birds have disappeared. Raised on a farm and being a hunter, death is not new to him; he even killed animals for food, but never a human. Yet in a matter of minutes, he has killed several. It troubles him even as he tries to think of them as animals, but that doesn't help much either.
“Oh, your first human kill, get used to it,” Dalistra says mockingly.
“There is that, but I have never been shot at either,” he answers with a tremor.
“Welcome to my world.” “Great!” he replies.
“That was much too easy for a mage. Let’s go look, and don’t talk to me. Just think about what you want to say,” she tells him. That doesn’t make any sense, but neither does a talking bow. Still, a little confused, Mashaun agrees.
He steps through the illusion and out of the cave. In addition to the people taken from the cave, a couple of girls are cowering in the corner of the caged wagon.
“A mage!? Like a real magic user, like fireballs and such?”
“Yes, a real magic user. Don’t you have magic where you are from?”
“No, we use technology instead of magic where I’m from,” he replies, already getting a little tired of her pompous attitude. He thinks that if she would just turn down her mightier-than-thou attitude, they can make a great team.
“Oh, you think so,” she snaps.
“Quit reading my thoughts.”
“Maybe,” she retorts. She doesn’t want to push him too hard. He might put her back in the cave for who knows how long. So for now, she’ll try to tone it down, a little, very little.
As Mashaun crosses the meadow toward the mage, he thinks, how did I do?
“Is that for me?” she says sarcastically.
“Yes,” he replies, perturbed.
“OK, you have used a bow before,” she says with an egotistical slur. She really likes the way he handles her, but pride prevents her from being honest with him. After all, she’s royalty, and he is just an off world commoner.
“Yes, I was on the school’s archery team, and I hunted with a bow for several years,” Mashaun tells her.
“That explains your different style, but it works, so I will allow you to remain with me for a while,” she says in her usual demeanor.
“Thanks. . . I think,” he says out loud.
The mage is lying on her side, resting on the arrow that protrudes through her cape just above the bustier. After removing the arrow, he rolls her over. Mashaun removes the clothes from the mage as Dalistra tells him to keep the clone’s eyes covered at all times. He also needs to get some clothes from one of the dead soldiers for himself. He unties the bustier after some verbal mocking from Dalistra, then removes her clothes trying not to look.
“Hurry up. Have you never undressed a woman before?” she snaps.
“No, they usually take their own clothes off, and in the dark,” he says, taking the keys off her belt and tossing them to the prisoners.
“Great, t
hat explains it,” Dalistra tells him.
What? He thinks.
As he opens the front of the bustier, he is surprised to find that there is no belly button.
“She is a clone! I thought Fa—the king signed a proclamation forbidding the creation of clone,” she tells him. Mashaun notices the pause but chooses not to ask her about it.
“A what?” he asks.
“A clone, cover her face, NOW.” Something in her voice tells him not to question or delay; using the cape, he covers the clone’s face. That is why she was so easy to kill. Look, I’ll explain later. Right now we need to burn all the bodies, especially this one, and don’t let it look at you again, it may already be too late. But he senses real worry from Dalistra’s tone.
Mashaun tells the prisoners to strip the dead then throw them in the wagon. He grabs the clothes from the mage and quickly takes some from one of the dead guards. Mashaun looks at the girl still cowering under the wagon, offering his hand. The girl extends her hand with caution and some coaxing. Dalistra tells him, “Leave her there, she’s just a drudge.” Mashaun ignores her, gently taking the young girl’s hand.
She looks at him with teary brown eyes as he helps her out from under the wagon, giving him a hug. She has a tall, thin structure and a youthful appearance. Her matted black hair and nightgown barely cover her body. Mashaun brushes her hair aside, asking her name. The girl quietly breathes, “Abigail.” Mashaun takes her back to the cave with Dalistra across his back, carrying clothes in one arm and Abigail tightly clasping his other arm.
“How dare you ignore me?!” Dalistra barks.
Mai runs from the back of the large cave when Mashaun returns. Asking who the girl is and what’s happened. As Mai approaches, she sees how terrify and distraught the girl looks. Mai reaches for her hand, but Abigail refuses to let go until Mashaun nods and gently tells her it’s OK as Mai leads her to the pool.
Mashaun looks around, making sure nobody sees, and slips into the weapons room. Draping the clone’s outfit over some swords, he puts on the guard’s outfit. The pants are too short and are too large in the waist. The shirt is just plain too big, and the shoes don’t fit at all. He keeps the fur wraps on his feet. Checking the wall, only to find the scene replaced by images of them walking through the forest along a stream. Without looking into the room, Mashaun tells Mai that he is going to check outside and that he will be back shortly.
Exiting the cave he sees the once captives are trying on clothes. A pair of petite girls with dirty, knotted blond hair about shoulder length, a large muscular man with a black flat top and tattoos on his arms. A dark-skinned short older man with short curly hair—all of them wearing the same dirty poncho style outfits. Mashaun leaves them to their business and searches the wagon for anything useful. He finds a flint and steel, jade marbles—five green, two yellow, and one blue—and several documents encased in a clay tub. Each document has the letters MSS in a fragmented triangle in the upper left and some kind of wax stamp in the shape of an oval cage atop a staff in bottom right-hand corner.
***===***
Seeing that Abigail is calmer, Mai reassures her before leaving to go to the main room. She doesn’t see the clothes and checks the weapons room. The outfit is too tall for her, and the bustier would have to be taken in, to fit. Looking at the outfit, she figures she could make it fit with a few minor adjustments, but that would have to wait. Returning to the water room, she finds Abigail asleep in the pool. She thinks about waking her but decides to let her sleep and leaves the cave to see what Mashaun is doing. Seeing the meadow littered with dead bodies, and Mashaun is rummaging through the wagon. She has never seen death before, almost throwing up as she runs back into the cave, both nauseous and weeping, somehow finding her way into the weapons room. It doesn’t take long for her to regain enough composure to go sit with Abigail in the pool, which, for some reason, is always soothing.
***===***
As the afternoon shadows begin to creep across the battlefield, Mashaun calls everyone to the center of the large room. Mashaun starts by introducing himself, followed by Mai. Abigail tells everyone that she is eighteen and lives just outside Lima, Peru. Next, Kazimir tells them that he is from Perm, Russia. He has a round face, looking like a body builder in his mid-thirties. On one bicep is a tattoo of a red hammer, crossed with a sickle, and boxing gloves hanging from a four-leaf clover on the other. He ripped the sleeves off one of the shirts to get it to fit, and the pants are small around the waist, needing some rope to hold them up, but it looks like all muscle.
Then, there are the twins, probably in their late-teens, looking like a couple of dirty models with long blond hair and baby-blue eyes. Each wears small leather bands around their necks, wrist, and ankles with the same symbol on the documents. They each have a tunic tied around their waist, leaving the sides open. Bowing their heads with soft, melodic voices, they say a few words, but the group can only make out the words Magdalenia, Elina, Ericka, and Tenskie. Everyone looks at them, surprised and confused. Mashaun recognizes the language and asks Dalistra to translate, and she tells them, “They are Magdalenia’s house slaves, Elina, and Ericka, from Tenskie.” Last is a short, dark-skinned man probably in his early to mid-forties. He carries himself as a person of standing while speaking with clear and deliberate diction with words of someone educated, introducing himself as Berg from Cameroon.
Mai offers Elina and Ericka a couple of shirts to put on, which they do without a sound and without modesty, to the thrill and embarrassment of the others. The group is surprised when they can understand one another but not the twins until Mai suggest that they probably cannot comprehend anybody who did not wake up on one of the beds as she points to the back of the room. Berg rub his chin as he is the intrigued by Mai’s comments as the others just let it slide.
With all the soldiers’ weapons and clothes in the main cave. They take stock of their spoils; they do some clothes trading to get better fits. Except for Mai, who keeps the red outfit even though the twins try to take it off her, shaking their heads side to side with fear and tears in their eyes.
Mashaun tells them “Hvaju taju, Hvaju taju” before they stop and hide behind Kazimir.
Peeking from behind Kazimir, she asks Mashaun, “Kooj psua taru twua?”
“Did you kill them?” Dalistra tells Mashaun. He thinks about telling her about the bow, but before he could change his mind, Dalistra tells him “TZSJS, I mean no!” in no uncertain terms.
He thinks for a moment before shaking his head, no, saying “Tzsjs.” Mai stares at him wondering how he knew the question, before accepting his answer. Mashaun points to the bands. She tells him “Lavw qhov tvrag gron tutsv svest” as Dalistra translates, “They are slaves’ bands with the owner’s mark.” He tries not to show his surprise as she asks him, “Lawv puas muaj qhev, nws qhov twg los?” Again Dalistra translates, “Do you have slave where you are from?” and Mashaun shakes his head no. She sadly says, “Uas suazoo ib liib qhov chwaz.” Dalistra translates, “That sounds like a good place,” She sadly says before walking away.
“Where are and we and how did we get here. More import, how do we get home?” Mai inquiries.
They look at each with bewilderment.
Berg approaches the map noticing that the symbols look similar to an ancient form of Chinese writing. Pointing at the characters located above the landmass, he asks the twins what it says. They just look at him, cocking their heads to one side. He circles the land mass and starts naming countries. After a few minutes, Elina says Hauv Pem, Berg, repeats it pointing to the map, Elina nods. She then points to a city, Tenskie. Ericka circles a cove, and she says Shen Sherin. They take turns pointing to Khusari Hitvx, Cinsej Mej, Teroma Mej, in the upper left part of the map. When Berg asked about places somewhere on the map, the girls shake their heads.
“We are in Hauv Pem,” Berg tells them.
“Where?” Everybody asks in unison.
“Hauv Pem, wherever that is.”
Berg asks,
“Who woke up first?” Mai points to Mashaun standing in the corner. Berg asks him if he likes this place and Mashaun mulls over his answer before nodding his head. Everybody starts asking him why and then asking him to send them back. Holding up his hands, he tells them that he is just as confused as them and doesn’t know how, or why they are here. Maybe we are part of one of your dreams or I am part of your imagination. They stop to ponder the idea that this could be anybody's dream or nightmare. Abigail suggests that it could even be a collective dream, as everybody looks surprised. Dalistra tells him that she is not a figment of his imagination.
What about an alternate world, or astral travel asks Abigail. There is a hush as the group thinks about it before Kazimir says “What?” looking at Berg. Abigail explains the theory of parallel worlds and that they may be on a parallel world. At the same time, they ask how did they get here and why, before looking at the twins. Abigail continues telling them that their souls may have left their bodies back on Earth and traveled to this world. Berg recognizes the blank stares from everyone, just like his students when he just covered a topic and they still don’t understand.
OK, so we can be in another world, in anyone or a mutual dream, all of us might have performed astral travel to this place or a combination of three, or something different. Which means that we are in Hauv Pem, but don’t how we got here and most of all how to get home. Everybody nods in agreement.
Berg looks upon each one before asking Mashaun what he was doing the night before. Thinking for a moment he tells them that he was watching an outdoor show, reminiscing the good times he had hiking in the forest. So you missed hiking in the outdoors, like here, Berg questions. Mashaun nod “I used to live where the trees were tall and buildings were short. Then I moved to where the buildings were tall and trees are short. I miss the tall trees.
Mai was living on energy drinks while studying for a test and felt overwhelmed, afraid that for the first time she would fail. Abigail chimed in, telling everybody that her friends had left for college and she wished that she had gone to college with them so went to bed feeling rejected. Kazimir told them that he got into drugs and gambling after losing his last fight, forcing him into retirement, leaving him devastated. They all stared at Berg, waiting for his answer. Lowering his head and telling them that after spending twelve to fifteen hours a day at work for the last few months. All his girls wanted to do was to spend time with him and he barked at them, sending them crying to their mother, he told them as a tear ran down his face.
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