He and Eva had travelled together since they were discovered aboard the Hell's Wind, he wasn't sure if that was her choice or if they had been put together by Brother Envy. Conversation between the two had been awkward, there was so much he wanted to say, but he had been unable to find the words. Every time they spoke his courage failed him and he was reduced to benign small talk. Besides, he thought, it is too late for words.
Despite this, Max was in high spirits. He wasn't sure why. It seemed that leaving Hardway had lifted a weight from him, or was it that for the first time in his life he had made a decision based on his feelings for someone else? Although it was still essentially selfish, it felt different. He had taken a risk and it felt right, even though their future was not just uncertain, but shrouded entirely in mystery, and Brother Envy's answers to Max's questions were frustratingly cryptic.
His bladder interrupted his reverie. He turned to Eva, who appeared pre-occupied. The atmosphere of the forest seemed to have that effect on everyone.
“I need to piss,” he said, and left their path, ducking under a branch. Almost as soon as they were out of sight, he could not hear any sign of his companions, and it was as if they had disappeared into thin air. The heavy atmosphere all but made him question whether they had all been a figment of his imagination. As he pissed alone in the silent gloom, he felt as though he had stepped outside of reality and wandered into someone else's dream. The strange atmosphere in the forest peaked his imagination and, for the first time since he left Hardway, he longed for a brush and canvas. The shadows conjured wild images in his mind, if only he could capture them in paint!
“Fool!” he muttered, “you didn't even bring a sketch pad.”
Inching his legs apart to avoid standing in the puddle forming between them, he finished up and turned back to re-join the expedition. But which way had he come? He felt panic beginning to grow in his guts. Every direction looked the same. He walked on, hoping to come upon their path, but how would he know if he did? Whirling around again he took a few paces and stopped.
Be calm, he told himself, find the tree you pissed against. It was only a few paces from the path. But now he had turned around several times, he was completely lost.
“Eva!” he called out, blundering on blindly, hands outstretched, brushing aside low hanging branches. He called her name again but the forest seemed to swallow the sound as soon as it left his mouth. He stumbled and staggered through the forest with no clue what direction he was travelling. Tears rolled down his checks as he crashed through the undergrowth and fear gripped him. He could hardly breathe and soon his crying out turned to moaning and panting,
Running out of breath, he stopped, staring wide-eyed into the darkness. He wiped the tears from his cheeks and looked around him. It all looked the same. It was like being stuck in some nightmare.
A low, guttural moan to his right made him jump. Wailing, he ran to his left and plunged in to the darkness. His face connected sharply with what he hoped was a tree, sending him reeling sideways. With his feet tangling in dense foliage, he turned and pitched backwards and was suddenly blinded by sunlight.
Maximilian lay on his back blinking. He was on the edge of a clearing. The air was fresh here, and the scent of wild flowers drifted on a light breeze. He could hear insects, and even birdsong. He sat up and looked around the clearing, it was so tranquil, the complete opposite of the forest. Standing up and brushing away the bits of vegetation that stuck to his clothes, he wandered into the middle of the open space. More than just a small clearing, he was in a wide meadow. Forgetting his fright, he picked a flower and put it to his nose. The result was a violent sneeze, which was greeted by a deep grunt from across the meadow.
Startled, he looked up. The air was hazy with shining gossamer, flying insects and floating seeds, but he could just make out a dark shape in the distance; a vast brown bear approaching at speed. Emitting an involuntary yelp, Maximilian turned on his heals and fled. As he ran back into the trees, he heard the beast bellow. The sound was ear-splitting and he felt his bowels turn to water.
He ran on, tripping over exposed roots and bumping into trees, and on through the darkness. Blind panic seized him, he was heedless to his direction, arms outstretched, legs pumping, a low mewing sound emanated from his throat.
As the bear gained on him, its roar filled his ears.
* * * *
Tanise wandered.
She loved the forest. She loved the shadows, the trees, the fragrant flowers that grew in the few small clearings and meadows, and the bees that hummed and whirred around them. She loved the animals, the birdsong, the dappled sunlight that occasionally found its way to the mossy rocks and damp leaf litter beneath her feet. And most of all she loved the Zhepaah. They were her people. Beautiful people.
She loved her father too, Kendi, Chief of the Zhepaah. He was quick to laugh and slow to anger, yet he was a powerful man and he commanded the respect of his people. He maintained order and kept justice. He protected the Zhepaah from raiding parties, though in recent years those had been fewer since he had endeavoured to improve relations with their neighbours, aided by the threat of the feared Zhepaah bear riders, of which Tanise was now one.
The vast Shadow Forest was home to many ancient feuding tribes, each with their own customs, beliefs and gods. The Zhepaah were the most easterly, and Kendi had managed to create a shaky peace with their rivals. Disputes still flared up occasionally, some led to battles, and Tanise would be called upon to ride. In the darkness of the Shadow Forest, boundaries were hard to draw.
But however much Tanise loved her home and her people, she found it increasingly difficult to ignore the longing within her. She wanted to break free, to see what existed beyond the tangled gloom of the Forest. She had heard tales of the great plains far to the east, and the foothills and mountains beyond, but she was the daughter of the chief, a Zhepaah Bear Rider, and her place was in the shadows.
“Tunday!” she called. The great bear had loped away just as her mind had wandered, and now she needed to find him. A rider's bear was meant to be well trained, to stick by the rider's side. But Tunday was a wilful beast and Tanise had never managed to completely break him, but that was one of the reasons she had chosen him. She felt safer on a bear that made its own decisions without having to be directed, and Tunday had proven fierce in battle. Although the bear was not the most obedient, she did not doubt his loyalty.
Foreseeing another lecture from her father, and his disapproving eyes, Tanise was anxious to find the bear before anyone else did. She pressed on, faster now, towards the meadow they often visited. She hoped she would find the bear there, as she often did, feasting on berries or snoozing in the sun. If he was asleep in the meadow, she hoped to find him first, Tunday was bad tempered if anyone but Tanise should disturb his slumber. Then she heard something in the distance.
The sound was faint at first, but something about it made her draw her knife and break into a run. As she drew nearer to the source, she could make out the bear's bellowing. Rather than call the bear's name, she moved swiftly and silently through the forest. Whatever had angered Tunday could be dangerous, and she didn't wanted it alerted to her presence any sooner than necessary. She rushed on through the shadows, controlling her breathing, her eyes wide and her senses honed to any sound or movement.
Tunday's muffled bellowing grew louder and clearer, and Tanise slowed her pace, knowing she must be close. Crouching with her knife held in front of her, she crept forwards through the undergrowth. She spotted movement to her right too late, and a dark figure crashed into her, knocking her off her feet. She rolled, taking the stranger with her, and pinning him to the leaf litter. Her knife was pressed against his throat before his head hit the soft earth.
The string of profanities and threats about to issue forth from Tanise's mouth caught in her throat. Surprised by the terrified and innocent looking visage of the fair-haired young man staring up at her, she found her self gazing back in shock. Their eyes lo
cked for a moment, she frowning at this soft, foreign face, he swallowing hard as her blade scraped against his throat. She was briefly deaf to the sound of Tunday crashing through the undergrowth. As the huge bear burst into view, he towered over the pair on his hind legs and roared.
“Peace, Tunday! Peace!” Tanise called, without taking her eyes from the man she had pinned to the ground. Tunday's roar turned to a grumble as his forelegs thumped back to the floor and his vast snout nuzzled her neck.
To her surprise, the strange looking imposter beneath her seemed to be paralysed with fear. His eyes rolled back into their sockets and he fainted. Perplexed, she scanned the surrounding trees. Surely this man could not be alone? Tanise leapt on to Tunday's back just as she heard the sound of movement in the trees. Grabbing the horn which hung at her belt, she put it to her mouth and blew one long note.
Tunday roared again as a pale man in what appeared to be some sort of monk's habit emerged from the shadows carrying a wooden staff. Tanise blinked; if she wasn't mistaken, the staff seemed to be growing leaves. The odd looking man was followed by a handful of well armed soldiers. The soldiers immediately went to their swords, but the monk raised his staff and said something in a language she did not understand, and they kept the blades in their scabbards, though their hands remained at the hilts. At a word from a man who appeared to be their commanding officer, the soldiers formed a line in front of the monk.
A horn sounded from a short distance behind her. Bear riders responding to her call.
“What is your name?” Tanise asked, addressing the monk. Before the monk could reply, the nine bear riders she commanded hurtled from the trees behind her with weapons drawn and skidded to a halt behind her as she raised a steadying hand. Just then more men appeared behind the monk, unlike the soldiers they were not in uniform, this just made them look more dangerous. Not all were men. Two tall, black-skinned women sauntered into view. But one man in particular caught her eye.
Towering far above his fellows, he was the biggest man man she had ever seen. But it was not just his size that caught her attention; with a shadow bear on your side, there was not a human being in the World Apparent large enough to concern you. No, it was not his size, vast as he was. He was the only one besides the monk who had not reached for a weapon. He just stood there, arms by his sides, looking totally relaxed. Something about his calm, almost serene demeanour made him seem more dangerous than the rest of his company put together.
From the darkness behind them, yet more strangers appeared. A woman and a young man, barely more than a boy, carrying something on his back. Tanise leaned forward, peering into the shadows, and to her surprise, she realised it was a little girl on the boy's back. She was stick-thin and as pale as the moon. Tanise had the impression the girl was slightly transparent; her ethereal, wraith-like presence like that of some portentous apparition. The girl's eyes were cloudy white and unblinking, yet Tanise got the disconcerting feeling those round, opaque eyes were gazing directly at her.
“My name is Brother Envy and these are my friends,” the monk smiled, gesturing to his company with a casual wave of his staff. He was now fluently speaking the language of the Zhepaah which roused Tanise's suspicions; to her knowledge the language had never been taught to outsiders. The surrounding Shadow Forest tribes spoke varying dialects which derived from the same tongue, but these foreigners were not from this land, let alone this vast woodland.
“Please forgive the intrusion,” Brother Envy continued. “Our ship was blown some way off course and wrecked by a storm. We merely seek to pass through your forest and be on our way.”
Something about the way the monk looked at her was even more unnerving than the spindly little girl. She felt as though he were looking into her. As if he knew her better than she knew herself. As if he knew something she didn't. It was not an uncomfortable feeling.
“You are lucky to have survived this long in the Shadow Forest,” she sneered. “It is no place for outsiders.”
Brother Envy shrugged and smiled wistfully. “Our transience merely amplifies to the World Apparent's beauty. All nature must die and be reborn. That which does not die, does not live.”
This took Tanise back, which made her feel all the more uncomfortable. The monk's manner was disarming, albeit somewhat grating, but it was at odds with the company he kept. All threat and posture and all armed to the teeth. Even the tiny blind girl was a concern. The only exception were the young woman and the fool who had run into her, who even now remained where he had fallen, looking as worried as she felt. She glanced down at a dark stain on his breeches and frowned. Had he pissed himself?
So many contradictions. A startlingly threatening company of warriors with a monk, a blind little girl and a bumbling coward. None of these people belonged together, yet here they were, in her forest and bristling with weapons. She knew she could not allow this heavily-armed gang to roam her father's land unchecked. This was her chance to prove herself to Kendi and all those who doubted her.
“You will give up your weapons,” she ordered, “and accompany me to see my father, Kendi, Chief of the Zhepaah. He will decide if you may pass through our forest.”
“I'm afraid we don't have time for such a delay, my lady,” replied Brother Envy. “Our Quest is one of some urgency. We have suffered a set back already. We really cannot afford any further hold-ups. Permit me to make a suggestion.”
Tanise considered this a moment. Some trick no doubt, but she couldn't see any harm in allowing the man to speak. She gave a curt nod.
“We must continue north-east. Our journey is a long one and we must press on. My suggestion is that you and your company escort us to the north-eastern edge of your territory. You have my word we will go with you in peace and be on our way, never to return.”
Tanise considered this proposition. While she thought about it, the monk spoke to his fellowship in their own tongue. The looks on their faces made it clear they were not altogether happy with what he was saying. The commander of the uniformed men was becoming animated and remonstrating vehemently with Brother Envy and gesticulating angrily. One or two of the other members of the monk's rag-tag crew were beginning to look a bit fidgety too.
She watched as the argument became more heated and the monk continued to try to calm the situation down. When the commanding officer drew his sword and waved it towards her, shouting something she could not understand, things quickly escalated. His soldiers followed suit, swords soon hissing from scabbards. This prompted Tanise's bear riders to draw their own blades; long curved swords strapped in leather scabbards to their backs.
What happened next seemed to occur in slow motion, yet she was powerless to stop it. The flood gates had opened and blood would soon pour.
The foreign soldiers roared their battle-cry, Tanise met their ululation with her own and charged. The bear riders surged forward as one, their vast mounts bellowing with rage and blood-lust, to meet their enemies in combat. She raised her sword high, waiting for the bear's claws and teeth to do their work before sweeping the curved blade down to finish the fleeing or injured foes for good. As she rode towards the enemy ranks, the thrill of battle filled her, along with a certain amount of relief that her decision had been made for her. The outsiders had shown aggression and she would crush them. She could already see her father's face in her mind's eye, full of pride in his daughter.
Just as she was bearing down on the monk, he seemed to grow in stature, his eyes growing wide and terrible. He barked something unintelligible and hurled his staff like a spear into the centre of the rapidly narrowing gap between the two enemy lines. The staff struck the ground with an ear-splitting report like a thunderclap. Tanise's world went blinding white, then totally dark.
***
And so the cycle continues, and the fate of man revolves once more.
Only in The World Apparent can the faintest glimmer of hope stand out amidst the immense darkness of the void—the very darkness that penetrates the heart of man. Nature
's light cannot be extinguished, life clings on blindly in the face of overwhelming adversity. In the darkest, most barren corners it endures, waiting for the tiniest opportunity to flourish.
Man was born of nature, and carries deep within him the will to survive, not just through courage or determination, because not all men possess such qualities, but because he has no choice. As a fish must swim, so man must persist. The gift and the curse bestowed upon man by his primeval origins is brutal in its simplicity: no matter how painful and harrowing life is, death holds a still greater terror, and is unthinkable.
Here lies man's eternal paradox. For he will risk his precious life to protect a meagre patch of dirt and rock. To uphold his meaningless values. To prolong an existence in the chaos of the physical plane by a heartbeat. Thus the greatest battle for man is with himself, between the desire to stay alive and his seemingly trivial notions of right and wrong.
I wonder if he will ever stop to ask why?
If only man knew the end of his brief moment in the mud was just the beginning; would that change everything? Would he be better or worse off? Would all his fortitude be for nothing? Would he become completely benevolent without the threat of oblivion looming at the back of his mind? Or would he discard all his virtues, believing them to be futile? I don’t think it would make a difference. The void is as real as man’s eternal soul, and must be avoided even in the so-called afterlife, for it devours all.
If I could tell man one thing, I would tell him it is up to him how he defines himself; as a demon or an angel. The choice is his.
END
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