Guardians by Design - Land

Evacuation

Ermun sputtered and spit loose fragments of leaves and dirt from his mouth as he quickly glided just above the surface of the unforgiving terrain. Summer was nearing its peak, thus the region’s fragile ecosystem had begun to suffer. Juniper brush was rigid and dried. Even the most stubborn berries had shriveled, yet still clung to the ends of brittle branches. Light breezes and gusts kicked up dust, and expansive fields of grass embarrassingly displayed patches of browning blades.

Rushing over grassy knolls and between rigid trees, the power of the atmosphere provided him the speed he required to stay ahead of the predators – no ground animal would be able to keep up. Without the capability of splitting and diving so frequently, he would have collided with numerous obstacles by now. Confidence in his nimble nature grew as he continued to charge head first towards objects littering the forest floor.

Every second he saved rushing through obstacles, rather than maneuvering around was a second longer he had at the Homestead. Evacuation was necessary – herbivores were no longer safe to huddle in the massive tree. Infil-traitors had exploited their location, and created a convenient side entrance for the queen’s arrival.

He pushed himself desperately, hoping that a strong gust would expedite his arrival. A side entrance… he thought. How could Ohmlur let this happen? Ermun feared that the Designer’s defensive tendencies were slipping. Perhaps under stress, or confidence. Either way, he had allowed a badger to burrow an unapproved tunnel into the side of the Homestead; a fault that would likely cost them their home.

Ermun crested a hill and laid eyes on the mountain-top outcrop he called home. The faint silhouette of his preferred tree topped the barren vantage point, inconspicuously blended in with the surrounding, rugged terrain. For anyone that didn’t know what to look for, it would appear to just be a gnarled giant foolish enough to grow at such an altitude. But to Ermun, it was the epitome of comfort.

He chose not to waste time using the root system which led to the landing room before winding through the Homestead to the Designer’s chamber. Instead, it would be more efficient to use the roots of his favorite tree that led through the mountain directly to Ohmlur.

Finally, a strong gust caught Ermun below his torso, lifting and thrusting him towards the rocky outcrop. The moment he passed through the dome-shaped barrier, stale air filled his nostrils, making him sleepy and forcing the fantasy of napping in the cozy area. Before he could fully coalesce and land, Ermun firmly grabbed the main root pathed towards Ohmlur’s room. As he did, the sight of his perfect branch forcefully caught his attention out of the corner of his left eye. The scarred, gnarled limb comforted him – made him feel at home. A shame it was, that he would soon be leaving this place for the last time.

Ermun’s sudden presence startled Ohmlur as he paced his table, seemingly preparing to send out yet another impatient whisper.

“We have to leave the Homestead,” the sloth forced breathlessly. “Now.”

“Ermun!” the Designer replied, startled. “You’re back so soon – I was just about to send another message. How did the Guardians fair with –”

“Ohmlur. They’re fine… for now,” Ermun lied. He didn’t actually truly know how they were doing, but assumed they would be safe so far from Maurlynn. Hopefully their paths would not cross during their monotonous chore of re-empowering one of Ohmlur’s appendages. “We, however, are not.”

“Heh,” the Designer chuckled nervously. “Ermun… What are you talking about? The last wind you sent me assured me that everything was going according to plan… what possibly could have changed in only the last few hours?”

“I found her – and her lair. She has organized a group. They are heading for the Homestead as we speak. It’s time to relocate,” Ermun said with haste.

“You… found her? Where? Was she close to the Guardians?”

“…No,” Ermun said lowly, realizing the chain of events would expose his lies. It didn’t matter now; what did matter was leaving as quickly as possible. This better not turn into a game of a hundred questions, he thought. He knew Ohmlur too well – such an old soul never acted on impulse. He would sit here and interrogate the sloth until every option was exhausted.

“No?”

“No. Miles away,” Ermun admitted sheepishly. “After one of their locations… I lost track – distracted by an eagle. Something seemed so peculiar about him. Well, my gut was right. He led me right to her lair… Just in time to witness her organizing an assault.”

“I see. And what makes this such a threat? She and her predators would never be able to use the root system… or dig, or swim! Ermun, you’re over-thinking this,” Ohmlur said dismissively. He turned back to his table before passing by a collection of pelts. The empty socket that once housed an eighth appendage pulsed nervously. His flesh involuntarily flushed a shade paler than normal. Uneasy thoughts of greyish-red shot through the translucent dome of his head.

“Do you know anything about an unapproved entrance? Somewhere on the side of the Homestead,” Ermun asked bluntly. Ohmlur confidently brushed the hanging pelt of an elk proudly displayed against his chamber wall. He was still feigning uninterest in the looming threat.

Ohmlur froze. The cinder of is reclamation-based tentacle gently flared, representing anger welling inside him. “Hmmm, yes, maybe. But it has been taken care of. Eliminated along with the perpe-traitor that created it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Maurlynn sounded quite confident that it would be her welcome mat to the Homestead. It’s different this time, Ohmlur. I’m telling you. We need to leave. I think I know just the place. To the south, where we will utilize altitude as an advantage. Just like my outcrop! A place where mountain peaks scrape the sky and vantage is plentiful. We will rebuild. We will –”

“What possessed you to abandon your mission in the first place!” Ohmlur bellowed, turning to the sloth. “I thought I could trust you, Ermun. You have performed hundreds of these follows. What made this one different?”

Ermun froze. “Honestly? A hunch. One that turned out to be true,” he said through a slack jaw. “Don’t… slay the messenger, Ohmlur.”

“Millions of year… Millions of years I have called this cell home. And you want me to abandon it based on a hunch?” Ohmlur asked coolly.

“I’m telling you, it’s different this time. This isn’t just the mugging of a sickly deer by rabid wolves. This is our home and our species at stake. All of them! Is location really going to take precedence over your collection of hundreds of species? Ohmlur… don’t let a prideful last stand allow all of your hard work to be cast into the gaping maws of our predators. We can start fresh… elsewhere. Continue to evolve. Study new attributes and defensive tactics. But to be granted the time to continue, we need space for it. We will never progress if she is constantly knocking on our door with a group of consistently-dominant goons.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Ohmlur’s lack of immediate rebuttal made Ermun think that he may be persuaded soon. It was like trying to pull grey from a stone. This creature was unmovable. “This isn’t about the tree itself, is it?” Ermun asked slowly. It’s about what the tree stands for…”

Ohmlur shifted inquisitively. His three element-based appendages contorted sporadically, each seemingly attempting an escape of their own. Even they were already in agreement with Ermun.

“Ohmlur, it’s true that you’re falling behind… but we can fix that. We can recreate the most dominate species on the planet. Just not here,” Ermun stated flatly.

“Enough!” Ohmlur shouted furiously. “I will win this race. I will come out ahead, and I will be remembered!” His flesh flashed a fiery red. For a split second, Ermun imagined the reclamation-based tentacle reaching out to wrap around him. Squeezing the sloth so tight that he melted into mere components, returned to the land as fertilizer.

“All of those statements can be true, unless we allow your number one adversary to smear you across the slate you stand upon. We need to start over,” Ermun pleaded.

Ohmlur’s sickly flesh digressed to a deep purple. The tentacles that held his weight went limp, allowing a pile of sloshing fluid to drop to the cool rock floor beneath him. “I just wanted peace…” he muttered.

Ermun approached him, but made no contact. “And we will have it. Herbivores will resume their dominance on this planet, but only if we are allowed to further improve some of the traits you have been working on. They do look promising!”

Should Ohmlur have the capability of weeping, the sight of pelts displayed against his wall may have forced tears in this moment. A mere representation of numerous creations now all seemed so… fruitless; easily dominated by his creation’s creations. Tear-sized droplets steadily dripped from his water-based tentacle as he slowly nodded, but denied eye contact with his trusty companion.

“Eirateht!” Ermun shouted. His voice carried through the stone walls of the design cell towards the expansive sky above the Cedar Homestead.

Ohmlur pushed himself up from the chilled, slate floor as the direction of the wind outside shifted. Clouds separated and scattered, their templated path interrupted by a sudden and drastic squall that approached the Homestead. Long streaks of white clouds that lazily contrasted against the deep blue sky were stained a sickly grey as the wind picked up. Leaves upon Ermun’s scarred resting branch helplessly fluttered in various directions as the powerful, approaching storm easily penetrated the impervious bio-dome sheltering his outcrop above Ohmlur’s chamber.

***

About two hundred yards from Cedar Homestead, Maurlynn stood proudly perched atop the very hill Dahj had once ascended during his first arrival. There was no fog or foul weather today. The tree stood triumphantly before the backdrop of a jagged-peaked, snow-capped mountain range. Eying the massive tree with a sinister grin, her buff coat resembled freshly-polished brass that shined beautifully in the sunlight, being exposed for the first time in many, many years. She stretched her long, feline body, soaking up the rays of the mid-morning sun. Her short haired, white tipped tail flicked in excitement.

The beast’s massive paws sank slightly into the wet soil under her incredible weight. Dense muscles showed through the fine fur of her shoulders and back. Her face was wide and rounded, masked with white fur that circled her bright, golden eyes and brown nose, slightly resembling the shape of a skull. Savage and intimidating, the white fur rounded on her forehead, ending in squared tips that ran towards her ears, and squared off at her chin. Two fangs hung near the level of her knees. With the circumference of a sturdy branch, they slowly tapered all the way to the end of sharpened tips.

A grizzly bear accompanied her at her side, looking quite dwarfed in comparison. A pack of five wolves were lined before her. Various other predators played with each other, growling and nipping. A fox chased down and snatched up a field mouse just before it made it to its hole.

“On your mark, Maurlynn,” the bear growled.

“Remember: find him immediately – it is the top priority,” she announced to the group. “Maim anything else that gets in the way.” Maurlynn followed the statement with an explosive roar from the back of her throat, causing the group of wild predators to descend the hill.

Maurlynn and her goons charged the Homestead as the sky greyed. An unexpected gust hit the beast in the side, but she was hardly phased. Odd, she thought, eyes darting across the level terrain that the massive tree grew from. Sheer cliff-faces of permeable rubble backdropped the Homestead. It was sunny only moments ago…

Sudden shifts in the weather wouldn’t distract her from locating the entrance the faithful omnivorous badger had created for her arrival. Gently cursing to herself, she regretted not demanding more specific coordinates of the location of the entrance, or at least some landmarks to look out for. ’To the west’… she recalled. That’s it? ‘to the west’? This entire mountain side looks the same. Piled, broken rubble of boulders and pebbles, cascaded from above created hundreds of nooks and crannies that could potentially be the entrance.

“Over here!” a fox cried, his voice barely decipherable over the sharp gusts of wind passing over the valley they had dropped into. Maurlynn was forced to squint from dust and debris kicked up into her face.

“Are you sure?” Maurlynn called, approaching a small tunnel that had seemingly been caved-in just beyond the threshold.

“I mean, no? But it seemed to be the only viable option!” the fox shouted nervously through the torrent of wind that surrounded them.

Maurlynn stomped the ground. Small pebbles displaced in the act of frustration were ripped away, quickly flying east. This is barley big enough to fit the fox! How did that worthless badger think that myself and my larger beasts would be granted access from this! she thought, scanning the surrounding area for a more suitable entrance. There had to be another one.

***

Thousands of feet above the irritated carnivores, Ermun and Ohmlur popped out onto the rocky outcrop consumed in a roaring cyclone. Yet, the tree did not sway, nor did its leaves tumble. Ermun’s fur was undisturbed and Ohmlur was calm. They were directly in the eye of the unrelenting storm.

“Eirateht…” Ermun said, relieved.

“Ohmlur! Long time no see, old friend…” the Soul of Atmosphere said gleefully. The voice came from no face. The words were sharp and harsh, as if produced by the wicked gust itself. Dark lines made of storm clouds formed a silhouette unique to the soul. It did not resemble an animal or a plant, but the atmosphere itself. Small flurries sporadically flew around the silhouette, only visible due to the dust and debris stolen from Ermun’s outcrop.

“Thank you, Eirateht,” Ohmlur said appreciatively. “Keep in mind, Atmosphere. This is not an admission of defeat. Just a… relocation.”

Eirateht let out a booming laugh that resembled a thunder clap. Sparks of lighting scattered around the silhouette, enhancing the definition of his frame. “Of course not, Ohmlur! It’s only been a few million years. I would never assume you would give up that easy!”

Ohmlur chuckled lightly. “Ermun’s right. I guess I do need a fresh start. Maybe some clean mountain air will clear my head and allow in a few new ideas. I think that stale cave was starting to get to me.”

“I agree! So, where to, little ones?” Eirateht inquired.

“I’ve heard good things about the region to the south east. Littered in tall peaks abundant with vantage points,” Ermun stated optimistically. “Let’s go check out the air down there.”

“Ha!” Eirateht crackled. “One of my favorites! Alright, hang on tight!” The silhouette streaked and stretched into a tornado that enveloped the pair, lifting them from the outcrop. The branches of Ermun’s tree swayed and shook violently as the lid of the eye of the storm closed shut.

“And what is to be of the remaining residents of the Homestead?” The voice whipped around Ermun and Ohmlur in a circular fashion as it spoke.

“Send a message on the wind to each and every one!” Ohmlur shouted through the squall. “Inform them to scatter, or follow coordinates to our new residence!”

***

Below, Maurlynn continued to search frantically. This can’t be it. Curse this sudden storm! her voice contained to her own thoughts.

“It may be wise to turn back!” the grizzly shouted through rain drops that flew at the group horizontally.

Maurlynn gritted her teeth.

***

Hours later, Maurlynn and her defeated group returned to the region within proximity of her lair. Of course, she thought beneath clear, blue skies. Now the storm lets up.

Following the river that led towards a lake that neighbored her cave, Maurlynn couldn’t ignore an uneasy feeling related to the surrounding terrain.

“River’s much stronger today,” one of the wolves growled, voicing Maurlynn’s thoughts.

“Yes…” Maurlynn hissed. “Odd.”

The pack approached what used to be a lake – now merely a pond. Her uneasy stomach lurched at the sight of an exposed, alternative threshold to her cave. There, drying in the noon sunlight was a wet, arched, stone doorway that led directly into her lair. She had not used that entrance in years. Not since those pesky beavers had moved in.

The wolves following at her side twitched uneasily the moment Maurlynn stopped in fright. “Everything okay?” one of them inquired, noticing the peculiar depth of the lake.

“No. You all wait here,” she raised voice to call the attention of those who trailed behind. The bear plopped down immediately, relieved by any call for a rest. Foxes were quickly distracted, taking to chasing a rabbit that had scurried away in their presence, sprinting towards the safety of dense brush.

“Give me a twenty-minute head-start,” Maurlynn called, turning her gaze to the ridgeline that led to her normal entrance. “I am going to take the high ground and head for my lair’s entrance. You, as a group, approach that arched stone entrance to cut off any… trespassers that attempt to use it as an escape route. Kill anyone you run into, then call for me.”

The predators nodded, then stayed in place as Maurlynn took off in a silent sprint towards the ascending ridgeline.