Chapter 9: Too Close for Comfort

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The entire left side of my body was in pain from whatever hit me before I fell. I tried moving my arm and the pain shot up to my shoulder. My vision was blurry, but I regained it fast.

When my vision became clear, I looked around to find a large native Indian-like tribe surrounding me. My movements alarmed them, as if they were afraid I was going to hurt them, yet they held spears, as if they wanted to hurt me. They all circled around me. To them, I was a trespasser; an invader from the outside world. They seemed like a rather secluded tribe. The tension that hung around in the air was enough to make anybody sweat.

I was about to speak, when a brave man poked me from behind with his spear.

"We know why you're here," his voice sounded menacing, yet soft, as if he didn't mean to cause any trouble, "You're another one of Joel's men, aren't you? Well, forget it. Tell him if he wants to treat our tribe with so much disrespect, terrorize the innocent men, women, and children, then he's going to have to fight for it," he said. After hearing this, I only found myself more confused than I was before. Who was this Joel that this man speaks of, and what has he done to this tribe to make them hate him so much?

I stood in the middle of the circle, speechless. I felt like I was inches away from death, but I knew that I couldn't fear anything now. How could I expect to bring my family back to life if I froze at every danger I encountered? I gathered my confidence and began to speak.

"I apologize for trespassing on your land, but I don't know who this Joel that you speak of is. I'm just a peaceful wanderer," I tried to explain.

The man looked at me with a stern look, "What kind of fools do you take us for? You have given us no proof of you being a peaceful entity. In fact, it seems as if you're here for the exact opposite reason. You drop in on us in the middle of the night, carrying a concealed weapon on your person," he says, as he holds up my grandfather's powerpole, "Why, even your clothes tell us that plan to engage in some form of combat. If that doesn't describe a mission involving manslaughter exactly, I wouldn't know what does."

To this, I once again found myself speechless. I wanted to him that he had the wrong idea, try to convince the tribe that I really was peaceful, but I don't even know where to start.

Before I could begin to say anything else, the man gave them a command in a language that I didn't understand, but I could only assume that it was a command to engage in battle. All at once they quickly began to move in closer to me, and I didn't know what to think. My mind was blank, yet at the same time it was racing. Could this really be the end? My adventure had barely even started yet, and here it was, about to end.

The tribesmen raised their spears, when suddenly:

Someone shouted something in the tribe's native language, just as the other man had before. From the sound of it, it was either a command to kill me, or a command telling them to seize for a minute. Judging by the confusion of the tribe, I couldn't help but assume that it was the second one. The tribe now silent, the only sound that could have possibly been heard was my heart, beating louder than any drum that has ever been hit. The tribesmen parted, as to make way for what appeared to be an old man. He was quite a short fellow, with a long beard that was inconsistently present with brown and white. He had the same darkish skin as the other tribemembers and wore a long white robe that reach down to his knees. On top of that, he wore an old, brown vest made of what looked like the same material as the robe. He held a cane that fit his stature, short and stalky. He didn't have much of a facial expression, but he squinted. I could barely see his eyes. I wonder how he could see with his eyes squinted like that, but I suppose it's best not to ask. When he finally reach me, he looked up and down my body, as if scanning for something out of the ordinary. Then he reached my head and raised his eyebrows.

"That hair. The pointed hair. I've seen it before," his voice was very windy, as if he just had enough energy to get the words out, "follow me, son."

I did as I was told. I followed him out of the crowd. Upon my exit of the large mass, I looked to my left and noticed a large patterned column standing up out of the ground. I looked up it, trying to find the top of it, but to no avail. It looked as if it stretched on forever into the clouds.

I then looked to my right. There stood a towering statue of a large muscular man holding a spear. There was a scar on the right side of his chest, as if from being cut in battle. He was holding a younger man. Judging by the smile on their faces, the younger man appeared to be his son. He was holding a smaller spear and wore a feather on his head, one that matched his father's.

I looked down to the base of the statue. It read "Bora and Upa: The First Defenders of Korin Tower".