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Authors: Andrew Mowere

Tags: #love, #action, #magic, #story collection

Tales Of Grimea (2 page)

BOOK: Tales Of Grimea
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When the sun next rose, the two footer was
able to hunt, but left his cave cautiously. Just a few days
earlier, he had seen the painted face of death. Moreover, the
visions of what lay around lurked in the corner of his eyes. The
lake was never far from him, and the two footer feared its pain. He
was unsure of his ability to keep it at bay whilst moving, and so
moved slowly so as not to steal from his concentration. When his
feet were safely upon hard rock, he looked about, eyes stinging
only a little. There were already children playing, parents going
about here or there, and two footers wrestling playfully whilst
trying to communicate as best they could. Luckily, the two footer
saw a familiar face nearby and made his way to the child, pulling
two objects from his tunic and brushing off a little bit of dirt
from them. He grunted to get the black haired boy’s attention. When
it was done, he showed him the first one, a leaf kept from last
night’s dinner. He tried to remember the sound then grunted, “You
me?”

The boy seemed confused at first, then
nodded. Luckily, his parents had taught him some fundamental
speech.

The two footer smiled kindly, then repeated
almost the same guttural sound, pointing vaguely at a certain area
of caves. “You You?”

Again the child nodded then laughed,
pointing at a specific cave and saying “You yew!” over and over.
Satisfied, the adult two footer gave him the second object: A green
bird caked in salt, only slightly smelly. He pointed at the cave as
he did so and the child snatched it from his hands, saying
gibberish but certainly meaning well.

The two footer went down into that jungle
certain that despite his weakened condition, there would be food to
be had. The source of that confidence was the discovered lake of
calm within him. There were noises everywhere, of insects and
running animals and flying ones; even those strange climbing things
that looked suspiciously like hairy two footers. He could smell the
forest and the water mixed into the sun’s heat. When he’d gone
sufficiently deep and there were no predators or two footed
annoyances to disturb him, the man went left to climb up a tree. It
reached high into the blue, but the man only went higher than two
of him could stand, using vines to secure a sitting spot. There he
found a small climbing animal, grey of fur but sporting two massive
fangs. It hung upside down from the branch he sat on, waiting for
prey to walk beneath so it could drop teeth down and bite. He sat
next to the animal, much to its apparent disdain. It shrieked at
him, fists balled. He chuckled and apologized.

The man allowed his breathing to slow down.
His eyes closed and the lake within went completely still. There
was only he at that moment. Slowly he relaxed, allowing the lake to
take him into sweet euphoria, although he went careful and slow,
staying deep within himself so as to avoid pain. He became aware of
the blood pumping through his veins, of the bones creaking
imperceptibly, of the air spinning within his lungs before coming
back out. He was, of course, oblivious to what lay within humans,
but somehow could feel things within himself as if his entire body
had suddenly learned to touch. Every second was good, in the
moment, and for minutes he thought of nothing, just sat and felt.
Then slowly, he began to feel fatigue of a type unusual to him.
There was power in his muscles, and his thoughts were silent but
true. However, the two footer could tell that the very intent
behind his being was drained slowly by this new sense he’d
developed. It was like a dull void deep within who he was, an ache
in marrow within bone. If this was taken to an extreme, he would
lose all will and forget to breathe, sealing his fate and slipping
into sweet oblivion. That, he needed to avoid.

The two footer decided to stop feeling for
the day. Coming down from the tree, he spent a few minutes resting
idly at its base, picking at leaves and doing nothing until he felt
better.

The man went deeper into the forest,
cautious. A hush was coming over the area he entered, which told
him there must be a mighty predator prowling and keeping everything
away. A good hunter did not go to a place birds did not dare fly
over. In the distance he saw another two footer, who waved to him.
He waved back, then motioned that he was going back. The other gave
him an exasperated gesture.

As he walked back, the two footer found many
low hanging fruits. The entire way, he marveled at everything he
saw. Even the slitherers, whom he normally hated, looked
resplendent in their scales that day. Perhaps it had something to
do with the feeling he’d experienced earlier, but he felt light,
better almost. A jungle’s constant chorus was often an overlooked
form of music, but on that day he treasured every whistle, cluck,
and roar. He smiled to himself that entire day.

Soon, the two footer fell into a familiar
routine. He would wake up early, go out and feel for as long as he
could, savoring the sensations gleaned, and then go hunting. Raised
awareness became his ever-present companion, and even though he
spent a little bit longer feeling each day than the one before it,
there were never any hunting problems. He would hear and see things
that would have gone overlooked before, smell fruit and other
bounties in hidden places, and return to his cave happy each night,
sharing a little bit with the family that had helped save him. The
father, especially, took a liking to him and would teach the two
footer things about tying vines together to hold things. It was a
useful skill, he learned.

One day, months later, the two footer
decided to take his feeling a step beyond. In his usual tree, next
to the small grey climber, he felt not only himself, but slightly
beyond. It was a jarring feeling, like expanding, but somehow he
was able to control it and not go into the painful state he’d found
himself in after being injured. He felt the branch beneath him, the
speedy climber’s wheeze, and the slow patient throb of tree. In the
tree, something felt off. Being unsure of what it was, but getting
a certain sense of direction, the hunter looked towards a specific
branch higher and to his left. He was surprised to find a piece of
fruit there, hidden from sight by a peculiar arrangement of leaves.
The fruit was rotten in its place, but taught the two footer that
it was possible to use his ability to locate food. That day he left
the tree early, saving his strength for searching. Every few
minutes he would sit and feel, probing the immediate area around
him. He only looked as far as he could run in ten strides, but the
technique proved effective. That day he found a large amount of
food, and had to leave some behind!

As days went on, the man learned not only to
probe farther, but also discern his surroundings whilst moving.
That made it possible to hunt animals better. The first time he did
it, his skill was used against a red tailed four footer. It was
tiny and weak, but with time the two footer was able to expand and
find better prey and avoid predators, like those larger than trees
or more dangerous than even the Muahugh’ha. Feeling lighter,
knowing when and where obstacles may show up, made all the
difference. The fourth time, he was a able to run and climb, barely
touching branches with the tips of his arms and feet before
swinging off and leaping, pushing off as if he were walking
vertically on trunks. A huge tree came up, but the man was prepared
and leapt high, landing against it with most of his upper body, but
keeping his knees supple. He held there for a second, suspended by
speed, and before he could slip down he leapt vertically, towards
another branch. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the
immediate surroundings. A ripple moved towards him, fast, and the
man knew that if he moved his arms forward it would swoop down to
compensate. He put his palm in the correct spot and a large bird of
prey flew right into it. It had a menacing beak, black and white
feathers, and dangerous talons. The man smiled at his dinner.

That day, the two footers looked upon him
with shock. No one caught that type of bird like that. Sometimes
they were found, perhaps even trapped by a genius, but never
caught. The man basked in it for a while, and then went to the
family he knew, giving them the bird and gesturing that with that,
his debt towards them has been paid in full. The father agreed.

Day after day the two footer hunted, finding
better pray and understanding the lake within him better. There
were slight differences in the ripples, telling him exactly what he
was sensing and its conditions. The ripple of a river fish was
different from that of a lean beating crawler or a sighing
slitherer. Everything felt different and yet exactly the same. It
made hunting much easier for the two footer and freed him to think
of other things.

It is incredible to behold what people could
achieve when they weren’t desperately fighting for survival. The
two footer realized that his new sense worked on some principle
different than climbing or understanding. There was something
within him, a stamina of sorts. Moreover, he realized that the lake
within him was the same one he saw from above in his mind’s eye,
and that the ripples were reflections upon his own senses. His
senses depended on the size of the lake, as well as intricacy of
what he felt. If he stretched himself thin, he could feel farther,
but with less detail. At distance, it was difficult to tell an
injured bird from a leaping climber.

The two footer was fascinated with his
senses, and so sought to develop them. He began to store food, and
when he had enough for a week he went to his cave. It was not deep
nor bright. There were no animals and no wood, just leaves for him
to sleep on. It faced the sun’s rise to wake him up when time came,
and it was high to protect him from predators. Most importantly,
this small hole in the mountain was his home. On one side, its
right wall curved to allow him a seating space, and that was where
the two footer went.

He sat, making himself comfortable. He
allowed his eyes to close and his breath to slow, then realized
that the children would not allow him to work in peace. He needed
another spot, and so tied up his storage of food in vines, making a
small bag for it. He took it deep into the jungle, to a giant tree
he knew of. The tree’s bark had seen many years, and so had mingled
with the death-green. Only, he understood that the death green had
nature and life within, small enough not to be noticed but
important all the same. The man came to this tree because it had a
hold in its trunk, allowing him to sit inside, hidden from
everything. There were enough pieces of bark to cover him from
predators, and the mossy seat was comfortable.

The man sat, watching the sun set beyond his
mountain home. The light entered his eyes but stopped at his nose.
This was how he would tell time when a day passed. Once more, the
man allowed his consciousness to almost fade, closing his eyes and
slowing his breath. He became the lake and sensed innumerable
ripples all about. Wonder filled him at the euphoria of life, and
he could hear many voices, chattering together as one. He saw them
from above with his body as the center. He could see about as far
as he could run for a few heartbeats. Slowly he focused on that
feeling, allowing himself to push the boundaries whilst not rushing
things. More than anything, he focused on the pleasant sensation of
being one with himself.

His senses travelled, and every time the
ripples became faint he would stop, savoring the sounds of a
beating heart or a bloomed flower’s scent being lifted high into a
cloudless sky by a red eyed bird. He saw the smallest of things and
the largest of the mountain sized animals, those with skins like
leather or hair longer than a man. Whenever the fatigue left him,
he would continue expanding his senses until suddenly, he felt a
two footer. He was used to how different two footers were from the
rest of existence. There was somehow more complexity to them,
whilst betraying no higher importance. Then the feeling came again,
later, and the man realized he was sensing his home, where the
caves were. Children danced and men laughed and women ran races
against one another. Meanwhile a fluttering betrayed the ripples of
butterflies. He pushed further.

The two footer had never seen any bodies of
water larger than his jungle’s river. You can imagine then his gasp
of wonder at finding his sight stopped by an incredibly ancient
presence vaster, it seemed, than a dream spanning a thousand
nights. The presence was filled with different types of animals the
two footer had never encountered, having never been away from the
jungle ringed by mountains. He could also feel other predators on
the land between mountain and ocean, bigger still than the ones
back home. Two footers, however, he could not sense. Instinctively,
he was glad to that none of these predators roamed his lands.

If you walked along the river in the
direction to your left when facing the sun, you would, in the two
footer’s jungle, find two or three spots of land surrounded by
water. This, the two footer discovered, was how most land was.
There was mostly water, and he, his jungle, and everything around
were one island. Smaller islands headed in a direction, then two
large ones, far from one another but connected by a long thin
strip. Far below him, down enough that it somehow became up again,
was one last island. Four there were, in this… place they
inhabited. The two footer had no concept of planets, but surmised
that everyone lived on a ball. By this time, he had eaten a few
times, but had stopped for nothing else. The sun rose when he found
his strength waning and he stopped to rest his mind and self, and
his eyes stung both with light and revelation, although these two
things were sometimes one and the same. There was too much to know.
Everyone lived on islands surrounded by water, on a ball? His head
hurt with the number of new beings he’d felt. By the end of his
day’s out of body adventure, he could only sense beings larger than
reality, like the lizards that flew or the fish that walked or the
two footers made of tree. Once more, he was glad to not have any in
their jungle, for he sensed there was no way to hunt these
things.

BOOK: Tales Of Grimea
3.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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