The Wise One's eyes opened slowly, seeing the interior of his tepee. He lay there for a minute, trying to make sense of what had happened. And then he quickly crawled out of his bed. Bad idea.
His vision spun and he fell onto his hands and knees, dizziness washing over him. He grasped the hilt of his sword, it felt heavy even to him. He raised it to eye level and was alarmed to see his eyes were a completely different colour. Suddenly, he let go of the sword and stumbled backwards. No. He was another transmutated Ancient. He landed hard on the floor in an attempt to think harder.
His eyes drifted to his sword again and he saw the piercing light brown irises of eyes that were not naturally his. A slight glow emanated from within them, his early theory proven to be true. His skin went cold, and he was aware of the weight pressing down on his mind. How could it be him? How could he be chosen out of all the Ancients that existed?
"No." He said aloud, and then looked around the area for something to end his own life with. A rope, a knife. The sword in is own hands.
Na'aki entered just as he turned the sword on himself. "No!" she said, kicking the sword out of his hands. The Wise One was about to brush her away when a presence made him stop. A voice. His hand went to his head.
A familiar but distant voice spoke in the realms of his mind, and faded away. He became aware of voices within his head: the whispering that had been in his subconsciousness for his entire life had become a chorus. He looked at his sword, commanding it to to something. It levitated off the ground and lodged itself in one of the tent frames. He exhaled in disbelief.
Na'aki spoke, looking less surprised than the Wise One. "Don't you see? It is a gift." The Wise One replied. "A gift from who? It seems to be a curse, not a gift. As if I am a pariah."
"No, listen. This power can be used to bring peace, if in the right minds. Can you see the Knowledge, the extent of it? Can you see what the Elders led us into? There is no need for this war. We can use this power to unite each other and rid this world of the corruption that is the Elders. We need to bring down this oppression." Na'aki stressed.
The Wise One suddenly got up, catching himself. "Rid me of this energy, something else dwells within it. Something foreboding." Na'aki continued speaking as if she hadn't listened to him. "The Unukit people had this transmutation first."
"They have everything first". The Wise One pointed out sarcastically. Na'aki looked at him. Silence. And then she struck him across the face, no anger visible in her dark eyes. "Listen. This power can manipulate, change an even destroy the mind. I have seen this happen. Whether you like or not, this transmutation is living within you."
The Wise One didn't argue; he felt the incredible weight on his mind, the unfathomable and potentially destructive Knowledge. He knew Na'aki was right; the Elders had wanted war for their own ends. Instead of loathe ourselves, loathe each other instead.
His eyes drifted over to his sword. It drifted over and he gripped it tight, as if it was reality. After a moment's thought, he jumped up and exited his tepee, intent.
Empyrean jumped up at the sounds of shouting further up the mountain, just beneath the snow-covered summit. The blonde Canukiq approached him and followed his gaze. Finally, he said, "They are speaking of mind powers. Something is happening."
Empyrean looked down at his fellow Ancient. "Supernatural nonsense." He said, emphasizing 'nonsense', although doubt was going through his mind. His gaze drifted up to see his brother, who looked identical except for the lighter shade of brown hair.
"They are saying the Elders orchestrated the war to see us destroy each other." his brother said. The blonde Canukiq hung onto these words and picked up a spear, saying, "Hell is about to break loose if we don't do something."
"As if it already hasn't." Empyrean pointed out, watching him run up towards the camp. the brother turned and talked to Empyrean. "Something is on your mind. I can tell." Empyrean said nothing, and turned around to survey the Nukoy Mountain Range beyond the valley they were in.
Sigil and Stave were sitting in a dark room, Stave extremely drunk. Sigil was sober, and they were conversing about numerous things. Suddenly an Ancient kicked open the door. "Something's up. You need to get your weapons." The Ancient said curtly. "I have a weapon." Stave slurred, raising a bottle. Sigil shushed Stave and looked intently at the guard. "What's wrong?"
A hail of Na'ukiq arrows came through the roof and thudded into the wood. Sigil hit the floor hard and covered his head. When he looked up, he saw Stave's body hit the floor, an arrow through his throat. The bottle shattered against the wall.
Sigil's red glare locked onto the guard, who was wounded but still alive. "The Na'ukiq people believe the Elders are here." The guard said, pulling an arrow out of his armour. "So why the hell are they attacking us?" Sigil growled, looking around for his weapon. "They are saying the Elders are the cause of all the violence, and that they need to be brought down."
Sigil stopped, looked at the Ancient, and said, "In most cases I wouldn't blame them for wanted to rid the world of the Elders, but when they attack my people, they die." Sigil stormed out, pike in his hands, a storm on his face.
Yusai stood against the ruin of a temple, Unukitiq warriors lined up behind him in steady ranks. Some of them had illuminated eyes, but the rest were silent. There was no arguing, mainly because his comrades were focused on the mountain in front of them.
His keen hearing picked up a sound and his left hand tightened on the hilt of his katana. "I think they are Arcadiniq." One of his comrades said. Yusai's eyes narrowed, what are they doing up this far north? He could hear the enemy's armour clinking. By the sounds of it, they were heavily armed.
He could envision them charging up the other side of the mountain, oblivious to the wall of steel that awaited them. They were on the edge of the cold Northern Nukoy territory in Kanuk, and Yusai could feel the chill through his own armour. Snow was beginning to descend. None of the Unukitiq warriors spoke: they were as cold and silent as the landscape around, each one of them prepared to take a life or lose their own.
Arcadiniq Ancients appeared at the top of the hill, and then saw the ranks of Unukitiq soldiers waiting for them, at the bottom of the descent. Some slipped and began sliding down the glacial hillside. Yusai hefted his katana in a two-handed grip, and his comrades did likewise. A massive piece of ice broke off the mountain and smashed into the hillside, raining ice upon the two warring Ancients.
Suddenly, through the ice, a hail of Nanukiq arrows descended and Ancients from both sides began falling.