The Ninth Prophecy

As Sheda, Faris and others woke up the following morning they could feel the scorching sun piercing through their skin and flesh, even though it had just risen from above the hill.

- “Where do we go, my lord,” one of the soldiers asked. “Should we continue towards the shore?”

- “No, we will go more inland, towards the cliffs in the north.”

- “But, my lord, the sun…what if we don’t find them by sundown?”

- “I am expecting them to find us. We will be more visible if we move through bare land then if we look for shade,” Sheda backed him. The others picked themselves up and started moving. Hours were passing by slowly, agonizingly slowly. Making the next step forward became an almost insurmountable effort. The group sat down in slim shade.

- “Maybe the shadow people are scavengers. Maybe they will wait until we die and then rip us apart and eat, like those vultures circling around,” Taal said. Faris lifted himself up: “By the name of The One. That’s it Taal. You’re a genius.”

Taal and the others just looked at him, struggling to make sense of Faris’s words.

- “Has the sun gotten the better of you?” Geren spoke with genuine concern.

- “No, no! The vultures, don’t you get it?” The group still didn’t respond. “Well, vultures are the only visible thing from thousands of lengths away. It is probably a common sight to the shadow people. Creatures die around here all the time. They couldn’t make much from it.”

- “Go on,” Sheda said with interest.

- “So, vultures are a common thing, but if we shoot one down and the shadow people see it…” - “They will know that there are straightwalkers in the wasteland,” Sheda went on to finish Faris’s thought, adding: “And even if they don’t see it, the wasteland vultures make terrible noise when they feel endangered. The noise will attract the attention of the shadow people for sure!”

- “Yes, well, the only question is: how do we shoot down a vulture? They are flying so high up that it is impossible from this distance. Neither our bows nor crossbows can shoot up that far,” Geren stressed out the obvious problem, Faris acknowledging it.

- “We lure them lower down,” Sheda provided a solution.

- “How do we do that?” one of the soldiers asked.

- “I am glad you asked, brave soldier,” Sheda replied.

The next minute the soldier found himself lying down out on the open on the sizzling dirt of the wasteland, playing dead. The others stayed in the shade, waiting for the vultures to come down on their prey.

- “Although I am hungry, now I am glad we had that rotting meat. The poor boy must be suffocating with his face and clothes smeared with that shit,” Faris whispered to Sheda, Taal and Geren. It wasn’t too long until one large vulture landed near the soldier. Geren lifted his crossbow but Sheda stopped him from firing: “No! Don’t shoot this one down! Only when the first one approaches the prey the others will fly lower to see if the prey is resisting. We must wait for that to happen and shoot down one of the vultures in the air first, before we strike the one on the ground.”

- “But what will happen to the boy?” Geren asked with concern.

- “The boy has to stay still. There is not much chance that the animal will go for his head. That’s why we told him to put the helmet on. It will probably peck his feet at first, to check if he is alive. By this time, the others should come lower down and you will have your chance to shoot one down,” Sheda explained.

- “And if the animal goes for the head anyway?”

- “The boy is aware of his oath to the king. He’ll persevere.”

It didn’t take too long for the vulture to approach. Sweat was coming down the face of the terrified but still motionless soldier. The animal tried to bite on the side of his ribs. Surprisingly, the soldier remained still. It pecked one more time and a small stain of blood appeared on the soldier’s garment. As he blinked the animal turned towards his head. The vulture opened its beak and went for the soldier’s eyes. The soldier closed his eyes, as if it would protect him from the sharp beak. He waited in anticipation. He felt something heavy fall on him, scraping his eyebrow. It was the vulture, dead and still, its beak pressing against the soldier’s cheek. Seconds later, another vulture fell from the skies, the shriek of the other vultures in the pack echoing through the air. Geren ran to the boy: “Are you all right?”

- “Yes, I am fine. Thank you for saving me!”

- “Didn’t I tell you to shoot down one in the air first?!” the infuriated Sheda came charging at Geren: “You put the whole operation and our lives in jeopardy by choosing to shoot the one on the ground first!”

- “And what about the life of this poor young lad? If anyone was in jeopardy then it was him,” Geren responded. Faris calmed the spirits: “It’s fine Sheda. Geren knew what he was doing. He’s an experienced marksman. If he can shoot a seagull a hundred lengths away from a rocking boat then he can for sure shoot down a vulture four times its size.”

- “That’s not the point,” Sheda said.

- “Are you now feeling sad for this bird too, just like for that bat earlier?” Geren responded.

- “Bats are more than birds as birds are more than ignorant sailors,” she replied back.

- “That’s enough! ” Faris put an end to it. “Can’t you two just savor the moment? Most likely we have just succeeded in attracting the attention of the most feared straightwalkers’ tribe of them all. Doesn’t that call for cherishing the moment? It just might be one of our last ones,” Faris said, only partially joking.

The group sat down and waited. As time passed by, exhausted, they fell asleep. Faris started awaking as he heard some commotion behind him. He just felt a thump on the back of his head before he passed out. He woke up in a dark chamber where he could not orient himself in any way. He was tied up, just like all the others from his party who were lying around him. He could feel their presence and hear their feeble moans. As they all woke up, they managed to sit up, pressing their backs against each other, awaiting faith to walk in. They were all accounted for. Minutes later they could recognize a silhouette of a robust man walking into the chamber.

With a deep voice, the man asked: “Which one of you is the leader?” After a few moments of silence, Faris answered. The man came up to him, picked him up and carried him out of the room. The others stayed in the darkness, fearing for their lives. As he was carried out, Faris’s eyesight gradually improved, since there was more and more light. When the man put him down, Faris was surprised by what he saw. He had expected to be thrown into some kind of a fiery pit, with the shadowers, filthy, dark, ugly and tall around him, beating him down and feeding on his flesh. Instead, when he looked around, he realized that he was looking at a monumental opening to a cave in which he was. Around him, he could see quite clean women, children and men wearing neatly sowed animal skins. An averagely built man of light tan stood above Faris and asked: “Who are you and what do you want?!”

- “We are looking for the shadow people. If you let us go, I promise we will tell no one about you…if you are hiding that is.”

- “Why are you looking for the shadow people?”

- “We come from Nox. We want to inform them of a grave threat lurking the straightwalkers of the land. We want to ask for their help.”

- “You want to ask for the help of the shadow people?! Are you crazy?! You know that the shadow people are ruthless killers and outlaws. They could eat you alive.”

- “I know. We come because we must. Besides, if the shadow people refuse to help, they are doomed just like all the others.”

- “And just what would you want the shadow people to do?”

- “I want to ask them to join our quest. We must defeat the Karosian armies and Koprite hordes. If we don’t, there will be no kingdom of the straightwalkers as we know it.”

- “Why should the shadow people care about that?”

- “Because next they will come for them next. Wasteland would be the perfect place to be populated by the Koprites. They would probably come from Nox and from the Grieving Sea on drifter ships. No army, not even the shadow people could match them.”

The people in the cave looked at each other in disbelief.

- “And why should the shadow people trust you? Why would they believe it?”

- “Because I am here, am I not? I, brother of Yon, the rightful king of the realm of the straightwalkers am here seeking help from the most feared of all the straightwalkers, the shadow people. Do you think I would risk coming here if it wasn’t so? We need help, but we are here to help too. Without us, the shadow people stand as much chance as we do without them, and that’s not much!”

- “Tell me,” the man said kneeling next to Faris, “what exactly would you want the shadow people to do?”

- “Why would I tell you that?”

- “Because we are the shadow people.”

Faris looked around in disbelief. All he saw were scarcely armed men, not too well fed, and their families. He saw no feared warriors.

- “No, that can’t be.”

- “Why? What do you know about the shadow people to be so sure?” the man asked. Then he turned to the guard, apparently the tallest of all the men in the clan and ordered him to untie Faris.

- “Let’s take a walk,” he invited Faris, the guard pushing him forward. The two men walked out of the cave camp, followed by the guard who was walking closely behind. Faris was still baffled by what he heard, trying to comprehend what he had just been told.

- “You seem surprised,” the man said.

- “Yes, I am still not sure what to think about what you just said.”

- “Think what you will, but this is the truth.”

- “But, what about all the horrific stories of torture, do you do that?”

The man laughed: “No, we don’t do that, although we could. As far as the stories are concerned, it is easy to create an image. All we had to do is occasionally send out one of our men. He would then tell stories of the horrific atrocities committed against his friend poachers, family members, whoever.”

- “But, why would you do that?”

-“To keep our peace, our lives.”

- “Who are you, why do you want to live here?”

- “You said you are brother of Yon. That makes you the son of Damius. He was a good king. We had a pact with him. He offered us protection and security and asked for nothing in return, except to stay the boogieman of the realm with which he could scare off potential invaders. He even allowed the scary stories to go around. All we would do is send annual tribute in driftwood which he used to decorate his chambers.”

- “That’s nice but it still doesn’t answer my question.”

- “We are ordinary people - farmers, craftsmen, some poachers, even some soldiers. We all have in common that we made some mistakes or were in danger for whatever reason. The wasteland is the place of our refuge. It offers little, but enough. We collect food. We get some from fishing. The water we get from the caves. One thing the place has which makes it better than any other is peace. Some of my men came here after being chased by soldiers for stealing flour, some escaped the uncertainty of living on the bordering areas. Some even used to be of noble blood and escaped here from the faith that often awaits the weaker contender for power within noble families.”

- “So, the shadow people…”

- “Don’t exist! It is a myth created to support our way of life,” the man repeated, the two now slowly returning to the camp. He continued: “By the way, my name is Sethon. The men and women you see up there are members of our assembly of the wise. We will decide about your fate together.”

As the two approached, a crowd gathered around the members of the wise council. Sethon spoke: “This man has come to ask us to come out of hiding and to return to the realm of the straightwalkers. I have decided that we shall do no such thing. Now, we will retreat to decide about their destinies.” Shocked by what he heard, Faris pulled Sethon’s hand as he was to move away: “But, you said that you will decide about our fate.”

- “Yes, I meant your personal fate, and of your party. You didn’t really think that we would join you, not after what you just heard and saw?! ”

- “Actually, I did.”

- “Look around you! Are you stupid or something?! What could we do - die?”

- “No, you could help! You are the notorious shadow people!”

- “Just listen to yourself. You come here in despair and you want us to die for your cause. It doesn’t concern us. Most of us came here to escape the brutality of the realm.”

- “That may well be, but…”

- “Stop it! Just stop right there,” said Sethon angrily: “We are not fools willing to sacrifice our lives for your skins. Even if we would, we could not.”

- “No! You can help. You can help save your own skins too if you fight with us.”

- “Fight with what?!” Sethon said, pulling Faris aside once again and continuing: “For God’s sake man, look at us. My men carry turtle shells as shields and sharpened poles and bows made of driftwood as weapons! Our armor, if you could call it so, is clothing made of stingray skin. Few have any real fighting skills. We are not so much of shadowers anymore either. We spend more time under the sun than we do in the caves and crevasses. Just stop talking. It will get you into more trouble. It was my intention to work out your release and you are making it hard with your stories with which you scare the people.”

Faris energetically pulled his arm away, first looking Sethon straight in the eyes, but addressing the crowd: “Maybe you are not the scary, dark apparitions that other straightwalkers think you are. Maybe my stories scare you. But guess what? They are true and if you will kill me for telling the truth, then so be it! But know this: If you kill us instead of join us, it all won’t matter, because we will all die soon anyway. The Dabors didn’t believe it until all their bears were slaughtered. Now they are with us too. Maybe it is true that you are not the fearsome creatures everybody thinks you are, but you know what - nobody knows it! Maybe you don’t live in the shadow as much as you did before, but you still see better in the shadows than any other straightwalker. All we are asking you to do is to come and help where your help can be most effective - help us utilize the fears of the straightwalkers and all others for our joint benefit. If you don’t do that, after Nox falls, the Noxians will run away to wasteland, and guess who will be coming after them? The life you are living here is not a life worth living because as much as others fear you, you live in twice as great of a fear of being discovered, revealed. It is a constant, everlasting fear. You can take it away in just one day, in just one battle. If you join us, along with the lives of some, you might have to sacrifice some of the features of the life you had, but you will gain a life as it should be lived. If you don’t join us and the alliance wins, there will be no life. So, make up your mind and do it quickly because you are not just deciding about our fates. Whether you like it or not, you are deciding about your lives too, and time is of essence, time is our common enemy.”

* * *

As Faris and his party were going through an ordeal, Yon and his group were facing a difficult task of their own. They had just walked into the Xelon village, where they were not so cordially welcomed by a couple of giant men. As they were shown the way through the village, Yon and his party stood amazed by the sheer size of the people and by their slow, yet powerful motions of handling large logs around the settlement, constructing the huts and walls. Then, they walked into a large hut, the largest one around. In the middle of it a fire was burning. On the other side of it, a large muscular, but still relatively feminine female Xelon was seated on a place of honor. She was the Xelon ruler. Around here, there were many other Xelons seated in a circle around A fire. The woman just waved her hand, inviting the group to join them around the fire. She pointed at Yon and uttered: “Are you the reason of all the unrest in the kingdom, kopi?” Yon quickly replied: “It depends on how you look at it.”

- “Who are you then, the way you look at it, kopi?”

- “I am Yon, lord of the southland and contender for the throne of the realm of the straightwalkers. Why do you call me kopi?”

- “Kopi is a Xelon word for other straightwalkers. We name our unripened youth the same, those who are not yet fully developed in mind and in body. Contender, you say?”

- “The only rightful one. Darkness presides in Karos. I see it as my duty to chase the shadows of the dark away and to revive the extinguished light of justice in the kingdom.”

- “What brings you here, restorer of justice?”

- “I will not answer until I hear who I am talking to. I shall answer only to the one worthy of being responded to!” Yon stepped forth with authority.

- “You are talking to Raavi the Xelon.”

- “That doesn’t tell me much.”

- “Well, it should. Surname Xelon is reserved solely for the head of the tribe.”

- “In that case, it is an honor. I come in peace with arms wide spread. I come to ask for your mighty backs in support of our rightful cause.”

- “What makes you believe that your cause is fair?”

- “It is! All I want is to restore order under a rightful ruler.”

- “Daors claims to be wanting the same.”

- “Only Daors fails to prove himself worthy in deeds. His only argument is the sword and brute force.”

- “You are all arath’ - that’s Xelon for killers...slayers if you will. You all kill others. What is your argument for doing it?”

- “Protection of the innocent, goodhearted subjects of the realm who are to be the victims of prosecution of the menacing king!”

- “That’s a strong statement. What example can you display to support it?”

- “Daors is doing everything to please the Koprites only so they would help him keep the throne and turn the prophecies in his favor. And Koprites seek blood, sacrifice, rich sources of food if you will. Daors’s army killed every single bear of the Dabors. They have joined us already. Besides…” At that moment Yon reached inside his leather bag and pulled out a bloody argorite head. Murmur and unrest instantly spread through the big hut. Even Raavi sat back in her chair, as if trying to get further away from the head of the beast. Yon went on to explain: “We ambushed a colon of argorite riders. We slaughtered them all. It was some 150 Koprites and argorites. We caught them off guard. Where do you think they were heading?” At this moment Maedur pulled Yon’s arm, whispering to his ear: “But, my king, they were in pursuit of us, not …”

- “Hush, you idiot,” Yon shut him up and continued addressing the Xelon matriarch: “They were heading this way! What do you think their intention was, I ask you? Or, maybe, we should ask our Dabor friend here about their experiences. Now, what do you say? Shall you stay here unprotected or will you join our quest for survival of the kin, your survival as well as ours?”