Ancient American Fantasy

Anders

“Who's there? “

No answer, to my quiet shaken plea for a familiar answer, face, or friend. Or even a unexpected guest from the distant past.

A shadow is what I first glimpsed just moments before. A shadow or slight movement just around the corner. Was it just my mind playing some game, or making up illusions, my eyes strained from the days work.

My heart thumped increasing in intensity, lungs struggling to breath in painful breath. Painful from my efforts to even keep my breathing quiet and slow, despite my increased fear of an uninvited and possibly harmful visitor, stranger, thief, or worse. Trying to keep myself from making any loud sound, as if even breathing thundered and howled like a raging storm.

My lack of air only increased the drum of my heart beat, filling my skull, neck, and spine.

Second instinct after freezing, is to find a weapon. Carrying my tool belt of carving devices, many were ready to use such as carving knives, chisels, a mallet, and gouges. I pulled out the mallet and longest carving knife. My hands shaking, found their grips, and tried to keep a comfortable hold wielding the two tools soon to be used as defensive weapons.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you” a voice spoke out from the darkness “those makeshift weapons wouldn't reach me before my arrow would pierce your heart.” The voice paused for a moment. Then continued “You are Anders the story teller, entertainer, and artist, loved by many for your tales of hope, legends of victory, songs of inspiration.” he spoke like a judge would speak to a defendant just receiving their sentence.

Then he spoke direct and to the point “Who I am does not matter, its who you are, my friend, that we owe this meeting today.”

I couldn't figure out nor imagine why this person had entered my home this evening, weapon drawn. He apparently knew already who I was. And he knew what my profession is. My thoughts went to combing the audiences and participants of my last few public jobs, singing at the village gathering place and trading post, known as the “Sorgut”. Named for how sore your gut felt after eating the food served there, realizing you have been had after some expensive trade deal, and seeing the ugly beasts of the ladies that worked there. Horses being more attractive then the ladies that worked, cleaned, and served in there. No one called it by it's real name, a name that even escapes me at the moment.

I answered “Did one of my songs at the Sorgut offend you, my friend” my voice said slightly quivering, trying to present myself in the most friendly way possible, despite my shaking hands, and twisting stomach.”If so, I apologize, no harm was meant.”

He replied and came out of the darkness slightly,”The offense is not in one of your songs. Rather it is in your spreading of messages that are against the god that watches over and needs us.”

This confused me. What was he talking about? What god? And how was my songs going against such god? Why did he mention god needing us?

“Again I meant no offense to any god, to you, nor any other person. I only wish to spread words of inspiration, hope, share with legends of victories, stories of love, and to entertain,” I tried to explain to hope this would satisfy or divert the unknown menacing shape, the light just barely showing the shape's legs and bottom of his simple soldier style bow, drawn fully back ready to launch a piercing arrow into my head or chest.

He slide forward a bit more. I could see his light brown cloak about his neck used to protect one from the ravaging storms that could appear at a moments notice, as this mountainous area is prone to experiencing, made from furs, leathers, wool, and ornate with dyes and jewelry made from bone, clays, wood, and rocks.

“In those very things you say, the spreading of messages, art, and entertainment, are by their very nature, against the will of god. Mictlanteuctli demands that each day we must sacrifice ourselves to keep this earth alive, even to feed Nanahuatl. It is only in the presenting of blood through Mictlanteuctli that we will continue to survive, and the world will not end.

In the south, the culture has experienced first hand the necessity of continuing not just worship, but to live and do these things for the very survival of the world. For without blood to feed life and energy to the sun that gives life to all, the sun would fall from the sky, the earth would shake, and the waters of the mighty ocean would rise up to destroy the land that we live one.

Have you not seen the sun disappear, winds rip apart homes, the earth shake, fires and sparks fall from the heavens, and oceans raise up to swallow villages with rage?

You, and your spreading of victory, opportunity, love, and entertainment works entirely against our very need to keep the world from dieing. You inspire others to turn away from what is vital, and look for things that are fleeting and unimportant. You help to make others forget about god, sacrificing to feed the sun, and the love of a world and lands, and thus help to bring upon us darkness, destruction, and death.

And for this, you must die.”

Amyrika

I kept correcting my finger positions on the two stringed instrument as the bow slid across each string of the Tsii'edo'a'tl. Vibrations echoed throughout the hollowed out stalk of the agave. I placed my fingers into different positions up and down the body of the instrument to move or hold the notes of the song I was playing. Sometimes holding a note for a brief period of time, or bending the note to make the music take on a sad or emotional feel.

Silently I whispered the words to the song , mainly concentrating on learning the song on the instrument.

As the music intensified, my breathing and slow rocking motion increased. My fingers quickened their repositioning, my bow made shorter swifter strokes, heating the music up to an intense rhythm.

A loud dissonant snap immediately stopped the music, as the bow string just now reaching its breaking point, snapped in two. The horse haired string whipped out, as the bow returned to it's natural form suddenly, after being bent for several months.

“Darn it!” I cried, the feeling of loss overcame me, as I had been in the moment engrossed in the intensity of the music, and lyrics that matched in excitement. Unfinished and uncaged the emotions turned inside the pit of my stomach unsatisfied from not reaching the end or finish of the song.

I threw down the bow and Tsii. Standing up, dragging myself over to my Tsii'edo'a'tl bag, I toss items inside around, searching for a spare string eager to finish learning the music.

No strings inside.

I need to get me a new string. The market though is closed. Maybe my mentor, Ander might have a spare string. Gathering a few [money] I plan on even bribing for a string, even an old one. I put on my walking shoes, a semi new pair of sinew sewn soft leather deer skinned moccasins, yellow and blue in color, then proceeded to walk to Ander's house. I thought I should bring my bag with Tsii in so that I could make sure that any string he might have would fit.

Amyrika

Everwood was not a large town, located on the outside of the minor city Karduk . Ander chose to live here in Everwood, to be close enough to small city , though far enough away to have the privacy and beauty of nature all around. I had come here to learn from Ander, the arts and powers that I had desired from that very young age, and studied constantly to learn.

Ander's house, like most houses in this village made from logs laid and tied together, covered with bark and grass, was not far from town, on the edge of the lush farms and fields, yet not in the depths and thickness of the lush forests of the Gray Mountains. The larger city had mud and stone brick houses, with some even carved almost onto sides of the cliffs, or built into caves.

I followed the winding path, across streams of crystal blue waters. The evening sky still bright, the sun setting far off in the west just above the distant hills and mountains. As I approached his home, suddenly I sense something was not quite right.

Something was amiss.

My eyes darted around looking for a fire, sniffing the air. Everything seemed to be intact, and no sign of smoke.

I approached the door cautiously.

Inside I couldn't hear any sounds. Then I heard some voices. Ander must have had a guest over. I wounder who it could be. I slowly pulled the door aside a little and peaked in.

The form of Anders was in front of me, he with a candle in hand, carrying tools. Off at the back of his hut near a window hole, was the form of a person, with the head still in shadow.

Then I noticed the drawn bow and arrow, and my stomach churned and a froze in sudden terror. Ander had two tools out, as if to defend himself.

I looked around outside for something I could use as a weapon. Ander was a very tidy person despite being older and living alone. I remembered that I had my bag with Tsii in, so maybe I could distract him long enough to allow Anders to flee out of the house. I grabbed my Tsii and broken bow, and my thoughts went to thinking of some noise or sound I might be able to make to distract or confuse the intruder. And use my instrument to swing at him when he came outside. I began to finger pick and nervously hum a desperate tune.

Anders

As I face the person threatening in front of me, my thoughts turned towards what options were available to me. Mallet in one hand, my longest carving knife in the other. I consider throwing it at his head. Of course my arm strength is long gone, and chances are, it wouldn't even stick into him, if it even was on target.

Maybe I could trick or get him to come closer and within striking distance.

Or maybe I could dodge on arrow, and reach him before the next was loaded. Or maybe I could throw them and flee.

As I thought I began to hear the sounds faint at first coming from outside. Almost sad and distant, a little shaky.

I looked around then notice something strange in front of me. A small speck of light in the middle of the room had appeared, just in between myself and the stranger. It sorta twinkled.

The stranger slightly loosened the bow, and stuck his head forward also noticing the twinkle. The sparkle began to slightly pulse, as I heard the music change into a quicker rhythmic sound. He loosened the bow and arrow entirely, his breathing starting to sound quicker and a little panicked.

“What strange ghostly image is this.” he questioned, now seeming a little unsure of himself. “Is this some demonic apparition. And such haunting sounds.”

A voice of sounds with no words joined the music, and around the sparkling speck, swirls of smoky mist slightly streamed around the light.

“Stop with such incantation now , I say”

Of course I had not created this, so there was no way for me to stop it.

At that moment, the intruder raised his bow swiftly launching an arrow. I felt my shoulder explode in pain, everything in a daze, as I found myself twisting in mid air, then then felt the earth as I slammed to the ground in impact.

Amyrika

Anders had been shot.

I lowered my instrument, grabbing the door, flung it open and ran in.

I ran past my fallen mentor, unsure of his fate, across the room, swung my Tsii at the head of the now retreating intruder. With nowhere to go, and myself being to swift, the instrument shattered as well as bone cracked as my Tsii, now a weapon impacted across this murderers skull.

I tried to recover my breath, stomach now churning. I vomited. Unable to hold in the pain and nausea.

In slight horror I saw the fallen man, that I had just hit, blood now dripping from a now large gash from ear to jaw,

Looking around I found some rope in Ander's tool pack. I tied the intruders hands behind his back, unsure if I had killed him, but not willing to wait to see if he would regain consciousness. I quickly searched his body, finding a knife at the belt, I removed, some money and a small leather book in a pouch, I didn't touch, I ignored.

My thoughts then turned to fallen Anders. Bringing the bow, quiver of arrows, and knife, I set them down though still holding the knife, in case there were others or he managed to escape the bounds, I carefully knelt down, looking what had happened.

The arrow had passed through his shoulder, and he still lay unconscious. Not knowing what to do, afraid to remove the arrow, I needed to get him some help. I knew the closest neighbor was just across the stream, so I ran as fast as I could, thoughts going through my head to keep running. Images of what had happened and what I had done, carried me without stop to the neighbors. Luckily they were home and outside.

“Anders has been attacked and shot with an arrow through the shoulder,” I gasped breathless and tired from the run.

The middle age man, yelled out to his teenage son, [ ] get the horses and some cloth. [wife's name] get me the jar of the [alcohol] and some water.

Soon they were riding back to Anders house.

Both were still laying on the ground.

As Barek, whose name I came to learn on the way back, knelt and work with cloth, water, and alcohol to remove the arrow, I watch over the fallen intruder. He appeared to not be from around here. Skin much darker than ours, with an overall look of a southerner.

The pouch was hooked around his waist. Removing it slowly, I peered inside. The leather book and the money were inside.

I grabbed the book, and open the pages. The writing I could not understand, but I kept it to show someone else that might know what it was, or maybe help identify him. The purse of money I also kept, thinking maybe it was stolen from another home even, or from Anders.

“He's fine Amyrika. Just unconscious now probably from hitting the ground and loss of blood. He should be awake soon. I cleaned the arrow wound and removed it, bandaging it as best as can be done, some healers or medicine shamans may have to help with the wounds.

Now lets look at him,” he said turning to the fallen stranger.

He cleaned the jaw and gash of blood. Checking for pulse.

“His skull is shatter. You really got him good.”

He packed clean cloth after cleaning the wound with water and alcohol, wrapping his head up around his jaw.

“Lets get them to town, to Karduk.”

Draping them over horses, they rode to town, at a speed as quick as they dare.

Amyrika Flashback

The rhythmic pounding of the beat echoed through the night. I looked up and out my house's window and listened as if hearing my name being called. I wanted to call or answer back. I let out a howl into the night. “Awooo”.

My father answered me in a stern annoyed manner, to get away from the window and to be quiet. The echo entered my ears and it was as if someone was talking words to me in a language I could understand yet not speak. I wanted to grunt, to play a return beat, or sing out some poetic lyrics that answered the call. The call saying “If anyone out there can hear me, answer me also.”

I thought of the ways that the music affected me. I found myself each day humming to myself. Then with the hum I added a simple hand drumming. The tables, books, bowls, pans, and containers, even the fences became my instruments that found my beats. At first my drumming sounded rather controlled, simple, repetitive, and unchanging. Gradually I would try new drumming techniques.

[research drumming and add a few techniques here to show progress]

I then added whistling to my beating, and sometimes I would add lute sounds also. With my voice.

For my [age] birthday, my mother surprised me with a book of folk music. As I stared at the sheet of music and lyrics, the notes instantly looked familiar, and I could make a tone that felt just right for that symbol. I found myself saying the words written in the book, changing my tone, speed of singing, even volume of my voice. I was so engrossed into revealing the puzzle of this giant mysterious book, and understanding the message that lay encoded within, that when I had finished with the first page, the first song in the book, I suddenly realized that my mother was crying.

That sudden realization, although I knew that the words and music I was reading and saying spoke of sadness that there were emotional powers and almost magic within the combination of tones that I had voiced, the realization that MY song had spoken to my mother pierced my soul deeply and I then understood that music is a power, is magic, is a language, and can cause mighty things.

Down to one day when these make shift instruments no longer were enough, I had to get the real things.

Anders

Numbness.

Thats how my whole body and head felt. Everything was cold, hot, burning, and tingling all at once. I couldn't open my eyes. I didn't want to try. The back of my eyeballs throbbed and were so sore. My breath seemed shallow.

I smelt burning. Was I on fire. Or was I near a fire. The scent was sharp to my nostrils, making me almost want to sneeze. It was sorta hypnotic, yet put me at ease. It was some flowery and wood scent, that I could not name.

Then I felt my arm throbbing. I wanted to move my right arm, but couldn't. I could feel the arm wrapped and bandaged.

Then I remembered being shot in the shoulder and the feeling of landing on the the ground. The strange light and music that the intruder had called a demonic incantation that I had summoned.

I cracked my eyes open. All was dark as midnight.

Anders

As soon as I was able my way, I had found through the streets of Karduk to Barek and Amyrika. They were at the [Sheriff's] jail area , interrogating the intruder.

I was grateful for their magic and powers, and left them a hefty donation for their services. And left blessing to the local gods that they worshiped of health, life, and nature.

The healers and nurses had given me pain relieving potion, closed the cleaned the wound openings, purified the entire puncture, mended the bone that was cracked and nicked, then blessed the area to heal faster.

As I approached the building that the law enforcement used as its jail, I overheard voices of a strong voiced fellow, sternly questioning the attacker I assume.

“What is your name? Did someone send you? What were you doing in Ander's house?” These and other questions they tried to extract from the bound dark tied-up captive. He just sat blankly, eyes straight forward, almost mouthing words whispering, as he almost winced in pain.

“What about using a mind reader?” I asked, them turning to see me finally awake.

“Mind readers are rare and expensive. Only the larger cities have them, because they also require having a truth teller, one who can discern fact from false. Mind readers can only tell what the other person is thinking, not whether what they were thinking was real or not.”

“So do you have any sorta person that can help us find any more information?”

“Well we do have a new scene tracker, one who tells what happened in a certain place, and can read what actually went on. Most the time we use him to find out where animals have wandered off, whether wolves are attacking farm animals, and find out who started bar fights. Just small town stuff. But someone that is useful to our town and multi purpose.”

Though he may be able to find out what happened and where he is from.

Griffin came a little while later, having gone home earlier, but receiving message that his services were needed. He poked his head into the room. His first instincts told him something had happened unusual. Not just an animal crisis. He studied the room, taking in the signs and magic that lay within. The postures of his boss and the strangers within. Noticing the blood on several of the figures, weapons recently drawn, sweat and dirt on their clothing. Also he noted the looks on their faces, and a glint of hope that was directed at himself.

“There has been a physical conflict with a great injury resulting, Not caused from anyone here.”

Smelling the scent of healing elixir from the direction of a bandaged older gentlemen, noticeably bandaged in the shoulder. He could see magic emanating from the area, with the main local healer's magic signature lingering to keep the spells presence and continued effect. Not with his physical eyes, rather his arcane vision.

How can I be of assistance?” he added curious now at the thought of something new and possibly exciting or... dangerous. He already figured that they needed him to find out or track the an assailant and possibly a murderer, if their was more victims.

“We need you to find out the identity of the person who did this is? And why he did this?” his boss explained.

He asked, “So you dont need me to find him. May I ask where he is? And are their any other victims?” wondering if the assailant met their doom.

He answered that just the one fellow was a victim, and the assailant was in the jail but wasn't talking.

Griffin then understood, and also gathered that he must not be from around here. And assumed that their was an unusual situation which merited knowing this information. Any regular criminal act wouldn't require such information.

“Let me see this...person”

Griffin

Looking in the room he noticed the unusual clothing. Nothing like anything he had ever seen from around here. He looked at his skin, noted his hair color, visually measured the persons height, mentally noted the weight, both which several years of rigorous study had made him highly accurate. He did recognize some of the patterns and material and made a mental note, but decided to dig further and gather as much facts as he could before coming to a final conclusion. Such analysis and procedures required such processing.

He wished he could talk to him, or at least hear his voice. But the man continued to be in silence, almost in prayer or meditation posture, eyes empty blank, and rarely blinking.

Yes this person was disciplined.

“Was there any possessions the intruder carried with him?” He asked.

Amyrika brought out the purse and book he had found, “I found these on him, though I can not make sense the writing. The coins are our own, so that wont help. And its a modest amount, I figured he may have stolen from one of our villagers.” He handed the possessions to me.

I watched the sitting shape as I took his possessions. He slightly turned his, seeing me with them. Looking into the purse, I then turned it upside down shacking the container. The coins came out first, being smaller and heavy. Looking up again at his face, no change in expression or reaction.

Looking back down at the coins, I noticed that they were indeed our currency, though they did not match the evidence that refuted this person belonging to our area. These had been acquired before coming here.

Then I counted the amount, also noticing that the amount as the young artist musician had said, was meager and average.

I set them on the table, and then turned my attention to the book enclosed.

Putting the book in my hands, and turning it to a proper position, I slowly looked across the cover and spine. I then slowly opened the first page, though my attention was entirely on the sitting stranger.

I saw it. A glint of concern. A slight flinch. An instinct to grab. A reaction to something important.

This book must hold the answer, or could be used to find the answer, judging on it's apparent importance.

Looking over the first pages I noticed.

[Description of book]

Putting the book and the purse into a special clean bag, I slipped them both into my main backpack for future reference.

“Take me to where this happened. I need to see more.”

Griffin

Observing the entrance , I searched for signs of forced entry.

Inside I could see the area on the floor where both the victim, where blood was pooled the heaviest, and the perpetrator, a small pool of blood, lay. I could also almost instantly sense a magic force unlike any I had experienced before. And an unusual symbol of arcane magic signature.

My brow deepened as I studied the trace glow from some magic I had never seen. What it did, and where I came from puzzled me. It lay directly between the two pools of blood, in the air.

After a few moments, I dare slowly looked for other signs and evidence of what happened. A bow and quivers lay at the opposite end near the small pool.

A bloodied arrow lay near the large pool, inside a bloodied cloth towel. The wood and arrow tip of the bow and arrows were made in a foreign manner. The material itself was unusual, not like any wood around here. The stone also was not from our land.

I called for Anders to come in. He entered, eyes looking around to the place the stranger had been standing, then to the ground at the blood and fallen weapons, then to his own blood, and the arrow that once pierced his shoulder. He let out a held gasp of breath.

“I want you to tell me what happened from the beginning.” I said gently.

He retold the events that transpired earlier. Of his return from town, the entrance, and the first conversation. I asked him to try remembering the exact or near exact words. The talk of the Sorgut, and his responses about my messages and entertainment. His claims of me going against his god Mictlanteuctli and about the sacrifice to keep the earth alive to feed Nanahuatl. And how he mentioned the beliefs of the south. And how the sun would fall and the earth would be destroyed without such sacrifice. And how I made others forget this important necessity for survival.

Then about the sound and speck of light that appeared. I was very interested in this part of what happened especially after feeling and seeing the magic remains in that center spot. I looked there again.

“Then what happened?” I asked curious.

He continued on about the song, unworded lyrics, then the quicken music, then the swirly mist. The strangers blame, then ... pain followed by darkness.

I thought about the magic, the religious words spoken, the strange clothes, the weapons, all from southern origin. I knew where he was from, and that he belonged to a religion, a religion that was spreading its message throughout the world, and apparently now, coming to terrorize our land with its weird strange beliefs in sacrifice.

The magic confused me, at first I guessed that the stranger had done such magic, but after hearing Anders experience and his dreadful reaction, it being his magic was very unlikely. And I knew it wasnt Ander's magic. Could this be some supernatural or minion residue from beyond the earthly realm? Could the boy had caused the apparition?

Questioning Amyrika, he confessed to singing and finger playing the broken Tsi to destract the but the magic was unexplainable.

Reaching into the purse again I removed the book. This must be some sort of religious book, written in a southern language. Maybe within it's text lay a reason or explanation for why he is here exactly. With there being no known southern person in the area, the answer to that would have to wait.

Maybe someone at the Sorgut could recall some additional information or clues into his motives, or how he acted when seeing Anders perform.

“Let me go visit the Sorgut, to Everwood” I said carefully.

Griffin

I had been to the Sorgut before in passing getting a drink or meal. Sometimes my assistance was needed in this small outer village. Several of the waitresses were familiar to me, though though I always felt my stomach churn as they took my orders. Its not that they were mean and hideous. Rather they were extremely nice and hideous.

In fact one had the voice of a seductress. Cinasona was her her name if I recall correctly. Cina is what everyone called her. I started with her.

I dont know if flies were really flying around her head, but somehow I seemed to visually see them as she approached, smiled showing her three remaining broken crocked blackened teeth. I could see and smell the stench of her dirty sweat stained apron, dress, and blouse. All worn well beyond normal life expectancy.

She politely asked “What can I get you today? You havent been around for a few months.”

The stench of her breath almost caused me to faint. Maybe some strong wheat ale could help take my mind off the stench.

“Give me some of that Sorgut ale, please,” handing her some generous coins. “Extra is for you,” which put a large almost toothless smile on her face, or what looked like a face.

“Yes sir. I will get you it immediately,” she said joyfully almost singing.

She return with a large cup and said in a cute voice, “anything else I can help you with?”

I took a deep sip.

“Actually there is something, the reason for todays journey and visit.”

Amyrika

Anders and I waited on the other side of the Sorgut while Griffin talked to the waitresses. Looking around the room I saw several of the towns people. I had not yet performed for the town in a public sense. The song I had been practicing earlier was to prepare for my first public music show. Before leaving Griffins house earlier I had made sure to get another bow string, which I was currently stringing to my bow. Testing the tension of the bow, I adjusted the fastener.

Anders watched me patiently.

“Though I can claim to be a great craftsman and storyteller, certainly you are greater blessed with more music talent than I have ever possessed.

Now that I think about what happened earlier in my hut, concerning the magic. When you were playing earlier to distract the intruder, your song seems to have summoned some sort of entity. A light that glimmered in the air.”

“I was trying to distract the intruder. What you saw I can't explain. It was not intentional.”

Anders smiled then face changed as I could tell he was thinking about something else. He then said,” When your parents died in the fire when you were young, you were so quiet for several years. You hardly spoke any words. But your music I could tell spoke the words that you were holding inside. I just hope I have lived up to your fathers standards. And given you enough love that your mother had exceedingly.”

We really didn't talk about my parents too much. I didn't know them. Only small details. Several of the small stories I have combined in my head to create an imaginary, yet incomplete picture of who they were. Something inside me always felt incomplete and even abandoned.

“I sometimes think I can feel them with me as I play. But sometimes I wonder if its just because I wish they were here and that I had known them.”

“I think there is within you real magic. Magic beyond my limits and what I know of art. Maybe this connection to your inner voice, that which comes out in the music you play, is connected to some real magic source. And what we saw in my home was a first real physical manifestation of that magic. I have always felt power in your music, although you are not fully proficient. Far beyond any novice I have trained and taught before. You have something real special within you.”

He paused for a moment, then continued. “Soon you will need to learn more from someone else. Someone that knows magic.”

This left me puzzled in hearing the words that he said, yet slightly thirsty to know any sort of knowledge.

I did feel some sorta link to what might be considered exterior connection to some sort of use of force. Reaching out across the bounds of my flesh, to several feet across entering that house, then materializing inside was almost an out of body experience.

I would follow my mentor's advice one day, and seek out more knowledge, especially in this link to magic.

From across the room I suddenly heard a familiar voice.

Turning my head, I saw the soldier dressed, serious and stern look of Sher who had just walked in, sit down and order something. She had always carried herself in a sorta tough aggressive way. Even when she was young, she was known to fight and beat up even the boys of the village, that chose the wrong girl to pick on.

Now she had joined the Everwood military force. It had been a few years since I had seen her. They had assigned her to some distant post.

Looking at her now, I noticed the well defined muscles. A body now that matched the girl personality that I once knew.

Quickly excusing myself from the table , I made my way over to her.

“Sher, hows it going?” I said approaching the table.

“Amyrika, wow. You look...” she stopped for a pause. “...absolutely ... beautiful.” This brought redness to my face as had similar comments in the past. She referred to me as a more feminine person and used the expressions and adjectives along with her direct approach. Certainly she was much more masculine than me. I sometimes wonder if she was really supposed to be a boy at birth, but that the gods had made some mistake.

She continued. “Your hair looks very stunning healthy. Its all the way down to your rear now. Your skin is clear and like a calm lake. Eyes that have always brought weakness to my knees. And your body even has some impressive curves.”

She reach out grabbing my rear and pulled me closer to her.

Sher then released and added, “Its really great to see you.” followed by a gentle smile.

I awkwardly tried to change the subject, “ So you just getting back to town from your post?”

“Yes,” she answered. “I served my term up in the up in the mountains in the hostile boarders of our realm. Its really the only place around to fight battles and small wars at the moment. Now I am back off of the rotation for a while.”

Picturing Sher in battle was not hard, having several of her younger fights imprinted in my mind. I added, “You were always fearless at everything that you did. From climbing mountains, to exploring caves. Even that one time when you spent the night at the graveyard.”

“That was fun.” she said back in a joyfully. “Well, fearless except for one place,” she answered back, which I instantly knew the place that she was talking about. Mentioning or should I say, just hinting about that place brought a chill up my spine. Even now, I dare not go near it. The haunted forest, with its swamp of terror, and tales of hideous beasts. No villager dare live within sight of that place.

It was the only bet that Sher did not win. To enter into that haunted forest.

I don't remember which boy dared her to enter it. She had stepped within a stones throw from it when her body froze, Her face had turned to one of total fear. She seemed to almost faint, her face white and pail then suddenly turned, ran, and screamed all the way home. And would not come out of her home for a day or so.

“Everyone is afraid of the haunted forest.” I said.

“Almost with anger she stated, “I shouldn't be. I don't like to feel afraid of anything.”

“We all have to be afraid of some things. Fear is something natural and experienced by all.” I tried to sooth her concern.

“Not for me. I don't like weakness,” she answered. “I am going to enter that forest I think tomorrow. I have to see if I can overcome my fear.”

Griffin was now approaching the table, apparently done interviewing the waitress.

Griffin

Ok, I am ready to give my first answers to why and who this person is.

He definitely is from the south from the great region of our ancestors. His appearance and clothing items supports this notion. His beliefs are of the ancient religion there of the Fire. And the wood used in the bow also doesn't come from here , rather I would assume from there.

This is only part of who he is. As for what he is doing here and why he tried to kill Anders, is more connected to this religion of the Fire that he mentioned, which has seemed to spread out and come here. It has always been there in that region. In fact it was the religion of the empire at one time, before being replaced by the belief in the Rain.

Maybe it is popular now once again, and looking to spread its message.

The book may hold information to more details, however since the language it is written in is foreign, probably being the language of the south. If we could only find out what it says.

“I dont know of any southern folk around here,”Anders said as he combed his memory.

We might need to ask around Karduk to see if there are any other persons that can help us read this. We may need an escort. Who knows if there are more or how many may be here ready to do more harm. I will speak to the military commander of Everwood and see if they can spare a soldier or two. In addition I will notify the Karduk forces and send word to all outlaying towns and villages.

Griffin

“This does indeed sound terrible for our village”, Everwood military commander Ursal responded. I will give you my best available man. Give me until tomorrow to look at who I have available. Its late tonight and you wont be able to do anything tonight.

“That would be great,” I said.

“But I can only give you one, since if this news is correct, I will need to set up soldiers around the town.” he added.

“I understand,” I answered a little hopeful to at least have two guards.

As he left, he heard the commander call in several of his assistance. And started telling them where to set up guards strategically. The last words he heard echoing, “We cant allow any harm to our little village here.”

As morning came, Griffin heard a knock on his door. Yesterday had been a long unexpected day. I got up feeling a little better and answered the door. At the door in full armor was a muscle ripped figure, the sun shinning behind blinding him for a second.

“Ah you must be the soldier promised, Everwood's best.”, I said

“At your command,” Sher answered.

Griffin sorta was shocked at hearing the female voice from this muscular figure. And wasn't sure how to respond. He sorta covered himself up a bit more, knowing he was not fully dressed.

“Um ok, we have lots to do today. Wait out there a little while I get ready.” he said walking away from the door walking towards his clothes.

Travelling Companions

Once they were all gathered they began to question and plan how they should find someone that could read southern language.

Sher spoke up “When I was posted in the Gray Mountains, there lived a curious person from the south, near the post. Maybe they can read the book or know someone that can.”

“Great ,” Griffin said, “we shall for speak to this person. We need mounts.”

Sher said, “Bear and Moose are the best for the terrain we need to travel. I will go speak to the animal handlers and get what we need.” Off Sher went with a sense of urgency.

A half hour later Sher returned with two grizzly bears and two large moose.

Up the winding path the two bears and two moose with riders rode. The front bear ridden by Sher took the lead, and Amyrika took followed the group, watching the rear. The bears were able to be used offensively in case trouble unfriendly visitors appear. Their long claws on their paws and sharp teeth very able defend or attack. Their speed made them perfect guards.

Sher up front kept her eyes scanning from side to side, aware of any animal movement, falling leaf, bird song, or animal sound. Alert to any possible danger. Also she watched the path for any possible trap, or trail hazard. The winding trail became rough and rocky with fallen limbs or avalanche slides.

Anders and Griffin rode the moose. Easier to handle, and only possessing horns to use in any skirmish. Their traveling speed more slow then the bears.

Amyrika watched his companions travel the path in front of him.

Low hills transitioning into steeper hills, then finally into mountains.

The towering mountains cast all encompassing shadows.

The temperature dropped sent chills up their spine. The sun laying behind the mountains sapped the air of warmth, and the narrowing trail and valley seemed to smother the four travelers. Quiet silence enveloped them, almost as if all creatures and things watched, stared, and waited.

All that Amyrika could do to ease his nervousness was to hum a little tune. Quiet at first he hummed. A traveling song, which repeated itself.

The hum then became lyrics.

Anders, just ahead of him, heard the song coming from behind. At first he smiled knowing Amyrika was probably nervous, never have journeyed into such wild dark lands. Around the fourth time the song repeated he himself decided to join in.

Griffin, ahead of Anders, heard the two singing. Having heard Anders join in, he decided to join in.

The three sang, lifting their spirits, and seemed to help the animals speed along, calming their nerves as well.

Sher at the front, heard the singing, but somehow still filtered it out. She noticed that the pace was improved, so focused even more intent. She would not join in, because she needed her full focus on the path ahead.

Towards the evening they decided to set up camp for the evening, the post being still a day's further travel into the mountains.

The Gray Mountain's forest, heavily covered with evergreen trees was just as impressive being in them as seeing them from the distance.

Translator

“Yes I can read this. This is a book from the worshipers of Fire as you say. I will read through and see what it says”

An old lady in the village of Everwood

At mid day the old lady made her way to the market. Hungry for food she looked at the deer, rabbit, and fish from the prior day's hunt. Settling on some rabbit she made her way to the grains area.

People were gathering around a robed figure in the middle of the market. The young robed figure, head shaven was standing eyes closed mumbling. An aura was surrounding the person, which seemed to grow in size.

Magic. She had always loved magic tricks.

She joined the crowd and applauded.

The voice of the figure was increasing and going faster. Aura and brightness growing in size. People started to cheer even more, clapping and whistling.

Ripping open the robe, the figure held out his hands, starred up at the sun and screamed out “Nanahuatl!”

His body started to shake rapidly, then exploded.

Energy waves shook the entire town, all onlookers instantly incinerated.

The old lady died cheering, Bones dropping to the ground having had all the flesh, muscle, organs, and fat burned off.

Group

In the evening of the second day back to the village, the four entered their village, which was now in complete disbelief and somber. The guards told them what happened in the market earlier.

The market area guards sectioned off, to keep the villagers away. The three of us stayed back away from the area, while Griffin talked to the closest guards. After a few brief moments he slowly entered the area.

Looking around. Bones. Magic.

Exhausted they returned to the Sheriff's building. Made of clay sun hardened brick, the tanned building sat up on a hill, trees cleared from the immediate area. A fence surrounded the building. The building itself was emptied all of the police force sent off to help out with the market tragedy.

They made their way to the jail cells.

The door to the cell area lay open.