Disclaimer: I'm going to stop writing these because I think you get the
point by now.
A/N: Remember in the summary it talks about a village? Well, that's coming up! I hope you guys didn't hate the last chapter too much-I thought it was pretty bad. Please R/R!
By the way: I've already got a lot of scenes for my next fic written down! It's gonna be great.
Sorry I haven't updated in a long time-I was 'grounded from the computer' for a few days.
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Dareem, leader of his village, looked around at the assembled men and women. He knew each one by sight and knew all their peculiar habits. Huddled in the corner due to her fear of sneak attacks, sat Meera, her old and wrinkled face peering out at them warily. She was old and weak, but her wits were sharp and her council was good. Next to her sat her sister and best friend, Tarina. Tarina was not as smart as her sister, but she was solid and could calm arguments, and was very reliable. Add to that that Meera went wherever Tarina did, and you had a good pair of advisors right there. But Dareem was blessed with more. Yaman, not even adult yet, sat apart from the others, his eyes focused in nothing. Yaman was young but wise, being well versed in the ways of men and the gods-previous struggles, before he came to the village, had taught him that. Then there was Gramoon, the old and blind caretaker of the village's mail doves. He knew every voice and sound there was in the village, and the pigeons only listened to their beloved master's voice. Lastly, Hemaia and Lasar sat, hands clasped. Dareem smiled to himself. They had been married only a few months ago, having been courting for years, and complemented each other so well that each could argue any foolish ideas out of the other's heads, and consequently those of the rest of the advisors. One place, however, was empty-the village mage had disappeared almost 6 months ago.
"My friends," Dareem's deep voice rang out. "I have called you together today to discuss what we all know is happening but no one will think about." They shifted uneasily. "We know something is wrong, yet it is only discussed in hushed tones that are quickly stilled. My friends, we have a problem on our hands."
Lasar spoke up. "But what can we do? We cannot fight an unknown enemy."
"Fool," Meena cackled, her voice thin and quavering. "We cannot fight at all. And we should not. What do you think would happen to us then?"
"Someone could volunteer to do it." Hemaia ventured, but Lasar quickly countered.
"Who would do that? And think-there are no candidates left."
Now a rich, flowing voice interrupted them. "Except Yaman." Gramoon turned his sightless eyes to where he knew the youth was sitting. Everyone else turned, too. Yaman started, as if woken suddenly out of an absorbing daydream. He blushed. "Sorry, Dareem. It's just." He stopped.
"It's just what?" their leader probed.
Yaman took a deep breath, as if stealing himself. "Amanwithantlerstoldmetosavehisdaughter," he said in a rush.
"What," Tarina said, baffled.
Smiling sheepishly, he repeated, "A man with antlers told me that I had to go save his daughter." The assembled looked at each other, confusion written all over their faces.
"Describe what you saw," Dareem said, fascinated by this unusual outburst in the usually sensible boy, and worried that he might be drunk.
"I was listening to you talk, when suddenly I felt like I was walking in a forest. A man with antlers on his head was walking next to me when suddenly he turned. He said something I didn't catch-it sounded like 'pain', and then he said, 'Numair. You have to save them. My daughter, save my daughter.' And I was here again and everyone was staring at me.
Meera mumbled something.
"What?" Hemaia asked.
"A vision," the old woman said. "The boy's had a vision." At the stares of the others, she sighed. "Yaman has been visited by Weiryn with a message. Certainly you can see that?"
"Weiryn of the hunt," Gramoon repeated. "Yes. He is the only god with antlers, and only a god can bestow visions." But before anyone else could say more, a huge roar was heard from outside, mingled with the screams of the villagers and doors thudding into place. They all rose at once-lions weren't common in these parts, and certainly not in the village. Looking out the window, Dareem assured them that it was safe to go outside. They went out in single file, enveloped by a deathly silence. What they saw took their breath away.
A huge, mangled lioness lay on her side, eyes shut, and out cold. A man lay, part on the broad back, part in the dust, and one arm pinned under the huge beast's neck. He was lightly wounded, but gave off even less of a sense of life than the lioness. Slowly, the councilors stepped forward, and the villagers, seeing them, came boldly out of their houses, swords drawn. Stopping a little over 10 yards in front of the prostrate forms that lay in the dirt road, the group observed the scene suspiciously, watching for a sign of deception. Dareem beckoned to a few of the people who had grouped behind him, and they came forward. "What happened?" was his low-voiced question.
"This here lioness came up the road and we didn't really notice her, she was real quiet and came from round the corner. Then she let out a roar and collapsed in the dust, and we all ran inside, sir." A man answered.
"But what of the man?"
"Draped over her back like nothing was lighter." A different man from before answered now.
"Aye," a woman volunteered, "but it sounded pretty desperate, if you know what I mean. Must a been a struggle, it's all torn up."
A man with a drawn sword gestured with it as he asked, "Shall I do away with it, sir?"
"Yes," Dareem answered. "It's not safe." The man started forward, but suddenly someone shouted, "Wait!" Everyone turned to see Yaman advancing towards the front of the crowd. "Why should we kill a creature that has done us no harm, and is not in a state to do us harm further? The gods do not look with favor upon needless slaying. And who knows what the relation is between the lion and the man? Possibly that of predator and prey, but what proof do we have? I propose that we put it under lock and key, and postpone judgment until we can know all."
"Why do you say all this for the sake of a mere lioness?" a voice called out.
"I just have a strong feeling that this is wrong." Now Dareem, whose word was final due to the deep respect he commanded, said, "Yaman is right. Send a team to fetch the old birdcage and we will heave it in there, though I dare say lion and cage will be too heavy to move, and we will have to keep them in the street. Now we must take care of this man. Send for the healer, and let someone prepare a spare cot." His orders were carried out quickly- about 5 men ran off to get the cage, a small child was sent to tempt the healer, Medaio, out of his house, and a house wife volunteered that since the village mage (who had never married) wasn't here anymore, why not use his house? She rallied a group of hardworking women around her and went to take care of that. The rest were left inching closer to the figures.
Suddenly, a 4-year old escaped from his mother's hand, and ran over to the man's side. Immediately there was a stampede to rescue him from a danger that, as they soon saw, wasn't there. The boy was swept up and admonished, but not severely, as his mother's mind was already on the injured man.
Lasar crouched down. "A fine, strong animal," he said. "But come. We must get this stranger's arm out from underneath it." With help from Hemaia and Yaman, they lifted the animal's head, and the trapped arm was freed.
A few minutes later, the men who had gotten the cage came staggering up. It was a large, iron affair, about 8 feet high, and had been kept in perfect order since the day it had been given to them, which was about 20 years ago. At the time, it had been filled with large, bright-colored birds, but they had died over the years, leaving the cage empty. It was set down as close to the lioness as possible, and 4 of the bolder men stooped, gathering as much of the lion as they could into their arms. Together, they lifted the huge bulk about a foot, enough to get it into the cage. Its body took up half the floor space. Quickly, the door was brought up and locked tight, and everyone near breathed a sigh of relief.
Medaio arrived, and instructed that the man be carried, gently, to the house that had been prepared to receive him for the time being. The healer went after them, and the crowd that had gathered in the street was left to drift back to their usual occupations, puzzling about the meaning of such an event.
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A/N: Do you get the vision now? I hope so.
A/N: Remember in the summary it talks about a village? Well, that's coming up! I hope you guys didn't hate the last chapter too much-I thought it was pretty bad. Please R/R!
By the way: I've already got a lot of scenes for my next fic written down! It's gonna be great.
Sorry I haven't updated in a long time-I was 'grounded from the computer' for a few days.
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Dareem, leader of his village, looked around at the assembled men and women. He knew each one by sight and knew all their peculiar habits. Huddled in the corner due to her fear of sneak attacks, sat Meera, her old and wrinkled face peering out at them warily. She was old and weak, but her wits were sharp and her council was good. Next to her sat her sister and best friend, Tarina. Tarina was not as smart as her sister, but she was solid and could calm arguments, and was very reliable. Add to that that Meera went wherever Tarina did, and you had a good pair of advisors right there. But Dareem was blessed with more. Yaman, not even adult yet, sat apart from the others, his eyes focused in nothing. Yaman was young but wise, being well versed in the ways of men and the gods-previous struggles, before he came to the village, had taught him that. Then there was Gramoon, the old and blind caretaker of the village's mail doves. He knew every voice and sound there was in the village, and the pigeons only listened to their beloved master's voice. Lastly, Hemaia and Lasar sat, hands clasped. Dareem smiled to himself. They had been married only a few months ago, having been courting for years, and complemented each other so well that each could argue any foolish ideas out of the other's heads, and consequently those of the rest of the advisors. One place, however, was empty-the village mage had disappeared almost 6 months ago.
"My friends," Dareem's deep voice rang out. "I have called you together today to discuss what we all know is happening but no one will think about." They shifted uneasily. "We know something is wrong, yet it is only discussed in hushed tones that are quickly stilled. My friends, we have a problem on our hands."
Lasar spoke up. "But what can we do? We cannot fight an unknown enemy."
"Fool," Meena cackled, her voice thin and quavering. "We cannot fight at all. And we should not. What do you think would happen to us then?"
"Someone could volunteer to do it." Hemaia ventured, but Lasar quickly countered.
"Who would do that? And think-there are no candidates left."
Now a rich, flowing voice interrupted them. "Except Yaman." Gramoon turned his sightless eyes to where he knew the youth was sitting. Everyone else turned, too. Yaman started, as if woken suddenly out of an absorbing daydream. He blushed. "Sorry, Dareem. It's just." He stopped.
"It's just what?" their leader probed.
Yaman took a deep breath, as if stealing himself. "Amanwithantlerstoldmetosavehisdaughter," he said in a rush.
"What," Tarina said, baffled.
Smiling sheepishly, he repeated, "A man with antlers told me that I had to go save his daughter." The assembled looked at each other, confusion written all over their faces.
"Describe what you saw," Dareem said, fascinated by this unusual outburst in the usually sensible boy, and worried that he might be drunk.
"I was listening to you talk, when suddenly I felt like I was walking in a forest. A man with antlers on his head was walking next to me when suddenly he turned. He said something I didn't catch-it sounded like 'pain', and then he said, 'Numair. You have to save them. My daughter, save my daughter.' And I was here again and everyone was staring at me.
Meera mumbled something.
"What?" Hemaia asked.
"A vision," the old woman said. "The boy's had a vision." At the stares of the others, she sighed. "Yaman has been visited by Weiryn with a message. Certainly you can see that?"
"Weiryn of the hunt," Gramoon repeated. "Yes. He is the only god with antlers, and only a god can bestow visions." But before anyone else could say more, a huge roar was heard from outside, mingled with the screams of the villagers and doors thudding into place. They all rose at once-lions weren't common in these parts, and certainly not in the village. Looking out the window, Dareem assured them that it was safe to go outside. They went out in single file, enveloped by a deathly silence. What they saw took their breath away.
A huge, mangled lioness lay on her side, eyes shut, and out cold. A man lay, part on the broad back, part in the dust, and one arm pinned under the huge beast's neck. He was lightly wounded, but gave off even less of a sense of life than the lioness. Slowly, the councilors stepped forward, and the villagers, seeing them, came boldly out of their houses, swords drawn. Stopping a little over 10 yards in front of the prostrate forms that lay in the dirt road, the group observed the scene suspiciously, watching for a sign of deception. Dareem beckoned to a few of the people who had grouped behind him, and they came forward. "What happened?" was his low-voiced question.
"This here lioness came up the road and we didn't really notice her, she was real quiet and came from round the corner. Then she let out a roar and collapsed in the dust, and we all ran inside, sir." A man answered.
"But what of the man?"
"Draped over her back like nothing was lighter." A different man from before answered now.
"Aye," a woman volunteered, "but it sounded pretty desperate, if you know what I mean. Must a been a struggle, it's all torn up."
A man with a drawn sword gestured with it as he asked, "Shall I do away with it, sir?"
"Yes," Dareem answered. "It's not safe." The man started forward, but suddenly someone shouted, "Wait!" Everyone turned to see Yaman advancing towards the front of the crowd. "Why should we kill a creature that has done us no harm, and is not in a state to do us harm further? The gods do not look with favor upon needless slaying. And who knows what the relation is between the lion and the man? Possibly that of predator and prey, but what proof do we have? I propose that we put it under lock and key, and postpone judgment until we can know all."
"Why do you say all this for the sake of a mere lioness?" a voice called out.
"I just have a strong feeling that this is wrong." Now Dareem, whose word was final due to the deep respect he commanded, said, "Yaman is right. Send a team to fetch the old birdcage and we will heave it in there, though I dare say lion and cage will be too heavy to move, and we will have to keep them in the street. Now we must take care of this man. Send for the healer, and let someone prepare a spare cot." His orders were carried out quickly- about 5 men ran off to get the cage, a small child was sent to tempt the healer, Medaio, out of his house, and a house wife volunteered that since the village mage (who had never married) wasn't here anymore, why not use his house? She rallied a group of hardworking women around her and went to take care of that. The rest were left inching closer to the figures.
Suddenly, a 4-year old escaped from his mother's hand, and ran over to the man's side. Immediately there was a stampede to rescue him from a danger that, as they soon saw, wasn't there. The boy was swept up and admonished, but not severely, as his mother's mind was already on the injured man.
Lasar crouched down. "A fine, strong animal," he said. "But come. We must get this stranger's arm out from underneath it." With help from Hemaia and Yaman, they lifted the animal's head, and the trapped arm was freed.
A few minutes later, the men who had gotten the cage came staggering up. It was a large, iron affair, about 8 feet high, and had been kept in perfect order since the day it had been given to them, which was about 20 years ago. At the time, it had been filled with large, bright-colored birds, but they had died over the years, leaving the cage empty. It was set down as close to the lioness as possible, and 4 of the bolder men stooped, gathering as much of the lion as they could into their arms. Together, they lifted the huge bulk about a foot, enough to get it into the cage. Its body took up half the floor space. Quickly, the door was brought up and locked tight, and everyone near breathed a sigh of relief.
Medaio arrived, and instructed that the man be carried, gently, to the house that had been prepared to receive him for the time being. The healer went after them, and the crowd that had gathered in the street was left to drift back to their usual occupations, puzzling about the meaning of such an event.
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A/N: Do you get the vision now? I hope so.