10

Retrogression

Saber had miscalculated. He'd thought himself a week, maybe nine or so days from the object in the distance, but he had not known just how big it was. As he steadily made his way towards it, he started to get an idea on its size. It was big. Really big. He'd been travelling a week already and was not even half the distance. But he was starting to see its shape, and to him it almost looked like it was shaped like a dog sitting down maybe, or a giant rodent. He could see from his low position in the valley, that it had claws big enough to knock a giant Red tree from its roots and throw it across Fourth Earth like a spear. One was broken in half, but the other looked intact. He wondered what it was. He had thought it to be a building, but now that he saw its shape, he was thinking more a statue, or an idol. Had it not been broken he might have thought it to be alive.

The young boy had learned a great deal in his travels. He had learned to hunt the small animals he recognized, and figured out how to make a fire from fragmented memories of eavesdropping on the warriors when they gave their lessons, and experimetation. Even in that short time, with a combination of observation and his instinctive, natural direction finder, he had learned that some of the stars stayed still more or less, and some set like the sun. He understood he could use those to find his way if he had to. He had been sleeping on the ground with his duffel for a pillow, and if it was cool at night he used his brother's hintriin to cover himself with.

Saber got homesick more than he wanted to. Especially sometimes at night when he would climb a high tree and look in the direction of his valley, he wanted to be home, safe in his bed, only dreaming about something like this instead of doing it. He was lonely. Almost a moon-time now, he had been alone, with only the woods and the creatures in it to keep him company. Was this the life of a traveler? Of an explorer? He was not sure at these times that he wanted to be one anymore.

And then sometimes, he felt guilty for leaving his family to worry about him. He should have told Drii to give him a week or so before telling his family where he was, and then maybe they would not be so worried. He wished there was a way to send a message to them to tell them that he was all right.

But then in the daytime, he would find something new here or there, and he would look at the great thing in the distance, and think of all he had done and seen, and he would think it the greatest life. Were he to tally it all up he would have decided it was worth it.

One moon-time exactly away from his home, Saber awoke to find it was raining. It was raining hard, and the thunder and lightning raged, to boot. Saber sighed. Here was yet another thing he had not thought of when embarking on this journey. It was the middle of summer, and the rain was warm, but he did not particularly like rain, and wasn't too happy to see it doing so when he could not find shelter from it. He thought of the leather cloak he had brought in case of rain, but never thought it would rain this hard! The cloak would only weigh him down once it got soaked.

He was thankful that his journal parchments, and the smooth, rubbery bark he'd found to use as his journal when he ran out, were waterproof; and the writing sticks would not run. He had nothing else that could not take a wetting, but he did not want to take a wetting. The leather vest he wore felt really nasty on his lightly furred skin, and he took it off.

It rained energetically for two days, as it usually did on the planet after all its destruction and eras. Saber had been worried, as the lowlands he was in were flooding, and he was finding fewer and fewer safe places to be, but on the third day it began letting off, and he was traveling through a moderate shower. At least the sun was more visible. In the thick trees, the rain had made it almost as dark as night!

As Saber sloshed around, barefoot as he always went, he stopped short as something big ran across his path, almost too fast for him to see at first. He had not been paying attention.

As he looked on in confusion, the thing ran by again, and he caught a glimpse of pink eyes, feral, and crazed looking. Saber felt a chill run down his spine as he tried to place the thing. He had never been good in life lessons, he could never remember the animals, and their colors and sounds, but he was quite sure he had never seen anything like that before. He hurriedly brought out his life-book and thumbed through it, and the chill came again. This thing was not in there. He put it back.

It almost looked like a human in the body, with whitish, wrinkled skin, and legs that looked like that of a human as well, but far too small, like a man who had been crippled and could no longer use his legs. It had a wild, matted mane of bushy, brown-white fur that also framed its face. "What in the..." Saber had a strong feeling of unease as he looked at it. It was wrong. Maybe it was the fact that it looked too much like his own people, running around like a feral beast, even though it was more the size of the Berbils. He didn't like it.

When the thing passed again, Saber increased his pace through the mud. He wanted distance away from the strange thing.

But then he turned around, a vague feeling of being watched overcoming his mind. He took a step backwards as he saw three more of the things crouched on the ground, looking at him viscously. The boy swallowed hard as he looked at the glaring things. They were feral beasts, of that he was sure, but they had hands and legs like an Erthrin. Their eyes were pink, their skin light, like sometimes when a different child was born of his people. Their skin and hair were white, their eyes pink. They had to be cared for differently, and could not go outside in the sun long like other children, because the light skin burned in the sun.

He wanted to get away, but found himself reluctant to turn his back on the creatures. They had claws, and probably fangs by the look of them. "Go away," he told them in a shaking voice. They only narrowed their eyes and bristled as if ready for a fight.

Saber bit his lip and slowly put down his duffel, feeling for the dagger, pulling it out quickly.

A noise from behind startled him, and four more joined the others, and he could see others coming in, all looking at him as if he were a beast himself, coming to kill them in their dens, or wherever it was they lived. He saw a few with little ones cradled in their long arms, and thought that they should have been cute, but they only made him shudder. The creatures reminded him of the sheep the ranchers raised for their wool, only crossed with an Erthrin. They looked like some horrible experiment of breeding with the two species.

Saber decided he did not want a fight with these things, and ran. But before he got three steps, he heard a yell behind him that almost sounded like a language, and before he could turn around, something warm hit him in the back, sending him asprawl, and he yelled himself. The duffel went flying as he turned around to look into the eyes of one of them, eyes that were not sane, eyes that held no reason or pity. He had the horrible feeling that these had been sentient creatures at some point in the dim, dim past. Before the cataclysm.

But now it was clawing at him with fingers that bore small, somewhat sharp tips, and Saber yelled again as another jumped on him, attacking in the same way. "KILL!" one of them shrieked, and Saber knew his guess had been right.

He thrashed as they jumped at him, and threw the little thing off as he gained his feet. He snatched his dagger and took a swipe at them as they came in one more time, and they jumped back, only to have one behind him jump at him again.

He whirled again to slash, and he could see that these being possessed some intelligence, as it was angering them to see their...countrymen? Tribesmen? getting cut by the boy's blade. More attacked at a time, and Saber was feeling an intense thread of panic as he began to be overwhelmed. They were only three fourths his height, but there were over a dozen of them, jumping, clawing at him. He had already been scratched up, and he was getting scared. They were swarming him! "Get away from me!" he shouted, then spat a word he had never used before. "Bastard!"

Saber tried again to run, but cried out as a sharp pain went through his leg, and he dropped his dagger. Sprawling the ground, he felt a heavy weight on that leg, and gripping little hands; one of the little creeps had bitten him! Not able to find his dagger, he punched it as hard as he could. With what could have been a foreign curse, it fell away, but Saber was on the ground now, and vulnerable, and he screamed in fear as they swarmed over him.

Part 11: Guardians

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