Incarnation: Wandering Stars Volume One (21 page)

Sitting
across the
clearing
from the elders, it appeared that everyone was tired from the day’s activities and in no mood to talk. 
Sheyir was the only one of the tribe who seemed more energized than exhausted.  But Sariel pretended not to notice.  It was critical that he keep his feelings for Sheyir a secret from the rest of the tribe until he’d established himself as a person worthy of their respect.  And in order to keep his body from betraying his feelings, he tried to concentrate instead on his overall plan and
how to make the best use of the men
, given the limitations imposed by the elder
.

It’s going to be a busy few months
, he thought, feeling sleep pulling at his exhausted body
.
  As he contemplated the frailty of this new
existence
, he felt something at the back of his mind.  Beneath the surface of thought, a nagging fear clung to him, whispering that he wouldn’t be able to save the man.  And
if
he couldn’t do it, then all his hopes would be lost.  He would never be accepted among the Chatsiyram.

He would never be Sheyir’s, and
Sheyir would never be his.

Sheyir’s eyes darted from one feature to another.  First his lips.  He pronounced each word carefully, as if he tasted it the moment before it left his tongue.  Then his eyes.  The deepest,
clearest
blue she’d ever seen.  There was kindness and gentleness there.  But also a fierce sadness that spoke of hidden tragedy.  His skin was smooth, like a child’
s; with the warm tones of pale sand along the banks of a stream.

She watched Sariel as if he were a dream come to life.  The fear that paralyzed her at their first meeting was but a distant memory.  Though it lingered at the back of her thoughts, whispering to her that she would soon wake from the dream, it was restrained by what her other senses
told her
. 
Others may have reason to fear this man, this creature.  But there was
no
danger for her.

“
Long ago,
our worlds were one with each other.  But there began a great war among my kind and
creation was stretched
.  It pulled all of us apart, such that we could only live in the place where we remained.  Those whom we fought were forbidden from your realm.  But one found a way to cross the void and he brought death with him. 
That’s when this realm began to
drift away
,” he said, looking up at the trees overhead.

Sheyir followed his gaze.  And when she looked at the leaves dancing in the breeze, it was as if she were looking through different eyes.  Her world, though beautiful at times, had always seemed somehow broken. 
Sariel’s words lifted the mist that blocked her sight, revealing what she had always known to be true.

“
Thus, the
T
emporal
R
ealm was born as it separated from the
E
ternal.
”

“Why are you called Myndar
ym
?” Sheyir asked.

Sariel
smiled and the corners of his eyes wrinkled.  “
It means Shapers.  We have always had the ability to change our form.  It enables us to carry
out
our purpose—to sustain all that was created.  But when your world was separated from mine
,
our
purpose was
changed.  We were entrusted with
Ba
er
lagid
—the
Songs of Creation
.  We used this knowledge to
shape
your world so that it could survive on its own. 
So, it is really a double-meaning.  We
have
both the ability to change our
form
and the ability to change the
form
of others.”

“And this is what you did before you came here?” she
probed, fascinated by his
explanations
.

“
At one time
,” he
clarified
. 
“Though
we were
all
involved in the
S
haping, many were
r
eassigned to other tasks as your world became self-sufficient.
 
That’s when
I became a soldier.”

Sheyir looked from his lips to his eyes.  “
What is a soldier?”

He squinted, then glanced down at the rock on which they sat.  After a long pause, his eyes met hers again.
“Has your tribe ever fought with another?”

Sheyir nodded. 
“I have never seen it, but it happened in my father’s time, when he was young.”

“In my world, there is a very powerful tribe that seeks to destroy all others. 
And
just as it is the women’s task among
the Chatsiyram
to gather food, it is the task among some of my kind to fight against this tribe.”

Sheyir
’s gaze now drifted down to Sariel’s
forearm.  The cuts and scrapes that had been there were healing well.  Most were only light scars now, the skin slightly pinker that its surroundings.  But a few scabs were still present where the
injuries
had been more severe.  “
This is why you
r arms
were
wounded
when you first appeared to me,” she stated
, reaching to touch his skin.

She wasn’t sure what compelled her to do this.  She almost expected him to flinch or at least pull his arm back, but he kept still. 
Maybe she was challenging him.  Or was she challenging her own fears
, c
onfronting t
he voice at the back of her thoughts that
promised her this
man was dangerous?

Whatever the reason, his eyes never
even blinked
.

“
If you can change your form, can you not
shape
your arms?”

Sariel looked down and clenched his fist, but the rest of his body remained still.  “I will keep the scars so that I don’t forget.”

“But you can heal yourself?”

“Yes,” he replied
with a smile
.

“
Then you cannot die
.
”

Sariel l
ifted his head and closed his eyes for a brief moment.
  “I wish that were the case
. 
Sometimes, we are wounded faster than we can heal.  Sometimes we die.”

S
heyir
reached out again.  But this time, instead of
just
touching his forearm, she
laid
her hand there and felt the warmth exchanged between their touch. 
“
Some
times we die also.”

A
swishing of grass
behind them
startled Sheyir.

Sariel pulled his arm away and sat upright. 
“So you must follow my lead
,” he said loudly.  “
I will have to react quickly to whatever I encounter and I will need you to sing
—
”

Sheyir turned to see a boy who
was standing in the dense vines on the edge of the forest.

“Yes
,
w
hat is it?”
Sariel
asked.

The boy
stepped shyly
toward them a
nd extended the bundle in his hands.

Sariel reached up
and
took the cloth
from the child.  Unrolling it, he held it up to the light
reflecting from the river. 
With a few sharp tugs, he pulled
the fine weaving
taut and
seemed
pleased at its strength. 
Then h
e handed it back to the boy.  “Tell them it will do fine.”

The boy smiled and ran off into the trees.

*   *   *   *

Enoch ran as fast as his legs would carry him.  The sound of his feet
hitting
the soggy earth seemed incredibly loud. 
He was trying desperately to keep quiet, but e
ach labored stride brought a great sucking noise as he struggled to maintain his speed and keep his feet from being pulled under.
  Plowing through a field of waist-high blades of bright
-
green vegetation, he was thankful for the dense root system which felt more solid beneath his feet, even as the sharp edges sliced through his skin.

He glanced quickly over his shoulder and scanned the blue sky above the tree
s, but it wasn’t there.  His breath was coming in rapid spasms now.  His lungs burned in his chest, but he ran anyway.

Suddenly, a dark shape appeared
just over the trees to his left.  It had changed direction and was now attacking from the side.

Enoch pushed himself harder, expending the last of his energy to escape. 
With each
step across the
sodden
earth
, he pulled hard against the sticky
substance
which slowed him down.  And then, there was nothing beneath him.

He was falling
forward
.

A rippled surface
rose quickly to meet him.  Before he could
react,
he hit the water
with a violent splash and slipped
under
.  The current was strong and immediately pulled him to the right as he struggled to turn his body over.  Water slipped in through his nose and he fought the urge to cough, knowing it would only
force the
remaining air
from
his lungs.

Clawing through the turbulent
environment, he
reached
the surface and immediately gasped for air.  The current had already dragged him a good distance to the east and across to the northern bank where a
tangle of
wide-leafed vine
s
grew thick into an overhang.  Enoch reached up and grabbed hold of the exposed roots and pulled himself under the shadows.

With nothing but the sound of water in his ears, Enoch waited, feeling his heart still pounding in his chest.

A moment later, a shadow slid across the water.  Through the leaves above, he watched a mass
ive creature pass overhead.  Its long and narrow head turned to the side as it scanned the river for its prey.

Enoch remained still and silent.

With wings as large as an Iryllur, the brightly-colored reptile glided beyond the far bank of the river and out of sight past the tall grasses.

Enoch
waited for several minutes before coughing to
expel the liquid in his lungs.
  Then he turned toward the bank and reached up to pull himself out of the water.  Before his hands were hundreds of large, purple blossoms sprouting from the dark green vines.  Their intricate, spiraling petals were veined with a brilliant, pink color that
brought
a smile to Enoch’s face.  Then, he noticed thin, pale leaves of another plant sticking out below it, near the waterline.  This vegetation was
plainer in appearance
and
nearly dead
as it was being smothered by the flowering plant.  Even its roots seemed choked by the other.

Enoch paused for moment, then breathed deeply.

Holy One.  I see
what You have meant for me to see. 
You let me fall into the river so that I would be hidden from the hunter of the air.  What I mistook for
peril
, was your provision.  And now you remind me through flowers that your angels should not be here.  Though they are beautiful and powerful, they are not meant to live with us.  Their cities will grow taller and overshadow ours.  The
ir
accomplishments will appear brighter and more beautiful than ours.  And we will strive to adopt their ways until our foundation rests upon them.  And they will choke the life from us.

Enoch wearily pulled himself out of the water and stood, dripping, while he scanned the terrain for any sign of predators.  Once again, he was by himself.  Though each day
had brought some proof
that he was not alone.

Stepping away from the water, Enoch continued north in search of the Myndarym.

After months of investigation, trials, training, and practice, Sariel and the entire Chatsiyr tribe were ready. 
In the
pale yellow
of
the sunrise, they stood
in a circle around the pit where the sick man was caged
.  E
veryone seemed quite nervous despite the excessive preparations.  Sariel had spent the last hour giving final instructions to the various groups of men and women, pointing to the symbols
that he’d
scratched into the dirt in front of them, all the while trying to be heard over the screams and moans of the man beneath their feet.
 
Finally,
he
stepped toward the cage, just out of
the tortured man
’s
reach
. 
With a deep breath, he
s
hifted
his consciousness
toward the Eternal R
ealm.