Mortica
07-30-2007, 06:01 PM
Hidua sat under a tall pine tree, staring at his small, popping firemade with what twigs he could gather, and groaned. He rubbed his kneeswhere they ached, which was everywhere. He hadn’t walked so far in aslong as he could remember, which for a bull as old as he was a longtime. The groan was more than pain, though. Panic and sadness tingedthe edges as he looked at the stars and did not recognize much of theirpatterning. He was lost, and Yichimet was sick.
* * *
Yichimet is a star over the ground. A stag that dances with a doe. Abroken twig beating on a skin pulled tight over an open tree trunk.
His skin bubbles and grows scales. His arms fall off, he regrows arms, he swings them around his head, laughing.
He walks into the Fire and continues through it.
* * *
The owl clasped onto Hidua’s forearm. Its talons dug deep into theleather guard, but the pain was small, and Hidua barely noticed as hetugged the rolled up letters from the owl’s legs.
“Yichimet’s friends have found him, I think, my friend,” Hidua said to the owl. It looked passively at the horizon.
“Now if they could find me,” he sighed, and sat down in the dewy grass to write replies.
* * *
Yichimet bobs like an apple in a giant salt sea. His scales falloff, his arms sprout feathers. His voice is no voice. His voice is hisancestors and they all are silent.
* * *
Hidua leaned heavily on his walking stick and rubbed at his snout. Thesun was high on a day he could not count anymore. He was hungry, anddesperate.
He mumbled to himself in Grimtotem Taurahe. “Mixed in the night,” he grumbled. “Mixed in the night.”
He was walking slowly down a giant hill toward large shapes on thehorizon. His old eyes could not see what the shapes were, but hethought they might be tents, and any Shu’Halo was a good one to find atthis point.
Minutes later he heard a rustling in the grass. He turned slowly to seea wolf trailing a tall, gruff bull of a Tauren approaching him.
Hidua squinted at the tracker. “They have found me, my son…” he whispered.
* * *
Yichimet flies through the air, catches a dragon, eats its belly andleaves it to rot. Yichimet catches Fire and eats its belly and leavesit to rot. Yichimet catches himself, eats its belly and leaves it torot.
* * *
Hidua wheezed climbing the hill to the Barrens. Mohan offered his armto help the old bull while Lord Pincus stalked slowly behind themwarily.
Hidua caught his breath at the top and continued his story. “You knowthat all this land was once ours, and the glory of the hunt was ourgreatest glory.” Mohan nodded, looking impatient and concerned at thesorcerer’s shuffling feet and slow pace. “And the story is told thatour hearts grew dark and we left the path of the Earth Mother to walkin darkness.”
“Yes, that is how the story was told around our fires,” Mohan said.
“And the Earth Mother turned us back to her heart. Well, the Grimtotemstory is different. The Earth Mother did weep at our dark hearts, butonly for our danger, because what we hunted was demons, and those thatbrought them into the world.”
Hidua looked at Pincus warily. “You control that being?” he asked.
“Yes,” nodded Pincus, looking at Pizloz the imp, “though this one is a bit ornery at times.”
“Then you are the most powerful being I’ve ever known,” Hidua said.
* * *
Yichimet’s talons dig into branches. Beings sprout from the barkaround him and pluck his feathers. Vines grow around his feet, growinto his legs, grow through his veins. Yichimet laughs and laughs untilhis voice breaks.
* * *
They stalked near the Quilboar lands. Hidua’s voice was soft, butcontinued the story. “And then there was a time when we sat around thefire with the long-ears. No elder can tell me why. But, like thetricksters and thieves they are, they backed away from the fire anddestroyed our land, stealing it from us.”
“They are deceitful, yes,” Mohan muttered, his eyes going glassy and fierce.
“This is what Yichimet and I sought in the Vision hunt. Answers. Answers to our questions. Only, I have done something wrong.”
* * *
Spirits eat at Yichimet’s flesh. Demons dance on his horns. A white heart bursts from his chest.
* * *
Eelai, the shadowed one, scouted ahead. The Needles’ spires reachedhigh like fingers. They rounded a bend and saw Freewind’s elevators.Hidua sighed.
* * *
Yichimet’s body breaks into pieces. Yichimet’s body melts and drips down the bark.
* * *
A faint smell of alcohol came off Snowfeather’s breath. “Go, look athim! Are you too late? You have been so long getting here!” she criedat Hidua.
The old bull stumbled quickly into the tent. Yichimet was under ablanket, still and near-peaceful. His snout was covered with moistureand sweat coated his palms.
“He is bad. But he is not gone,” Hidua said. “We must mix another sapta.”
“What is a sapta?” asked Eelai.
“It is a mixture. You might call it a potion? We use it for Sight and Vision. We used one for a Vision hunt a few moons ago.”
“What must we do, then?” asked Snowfeather.
“Pincus, Eelai…all of you…would you help him? It will be dangerous.”
“What would happen?” Eelai asked.
“Your spirit leaves your body for a time with a sapta as powerful as we need. You would have to find Yichimet.”
Pincus nodded.
“Probably not the most dangerous thing I’ve done,” Eelai said. “To help a Grim, yes, I would.”
Snowfeather nodded through her near-tears. Mohan did not even make amotion, but his body said yes in the way he stood over hisbrother-in-heart.
* * *
Yichimet’s blood feeds the roots of the Tree.
* * *
Hidua and the Grim stood at the edge of Freewind Post. Hidua’s owlflapped off, carrying messages to Hidua’s elders, who would tell himwhat he needed to know to make the sapta.
Snowfeather gave him a blanket and water and helped him in to the tent so he could watch over Yichimet and rest.
“It is my fault,” Hidua said as he sat down with a grunt.
“Don’t blame yourself, Hidua,” Mohan said.
“Guilt is not a state to entertain,” Pincus agreed.
Hidua laid down and closed his eyes. In Grimtotem, he muttered, “should’ve been mixed at night.”
* * *
Yichimet sprouts branches and leaves. He drops fruit, and the fruit turns to Fire.
* * *
Yichimet is a star over the ground. A stag that dances with a doe. Abroken twig beating on a skin pulled tight over an open tree trunk.
His skin bubbles and grows scales. His arms fall off, he regrows arms, he swings them around his head, laughing.
He walks into the Fire and continues through it.
* * *
The owl clasped onto Hidua’s forearm. Its talons dug deep into theleather guard, but the pain was small, and Hidua barely noticed as hetugged the rolled up letters from the owl’s legs.
“Yichimet’s friends have found him, I think, my friend,” Hidua said to the owl. It looked passively at the horizon.
“Now if they could find me,” he sighed, and sat down in the dewy grass to write replies.
* * *
Yichimet bobs like an apple in a giant salt sea. His scales falloff, his arms sprout feathers. His voice is no voice. His voice is hisancestors and they all are silent.
* * *
Hidua leaned heavily on his walking stick and rubbed at his snout. Thesun was high on a day he could not count anymore. He was hungry, anddesperate.
He mumbled to himself in Grimtotem Taurahe. “Mixed in the night,” he grumbled. “Mixed in the night.”
He was walking slowly down a giant hill toward large shapes on thehorizon. His old eyes could not see what the shapes were, but hethought they might be tents, and any Shu’Halo was a good one to find atthis point.
Minutes later he heard a rustling in the grass. He turned slowly to seea wolf trailing a tall, gruff bull of a Tauren approaching him.
Hidua squinted at the tracker. “They have found me, my son…” he whispered.
* * *
Yichimet flies through the air, catches a dragon, eats its belly andleaves it to rot. Yichimet catches Fire and eats its belly and leavesit to rot. Yichimet catches himself, eats its belly and leaves it torot.
* * *
Hidua wheezed climbing the hill to the Barrens. Mohan offered his armto help the old bull while Lord Pincus stalked slowly behind themwarily.
Hidua caught his breath at the top and continued his story. “You knowthat all this land was once ours, and the glory of the hunt was ourgreatest glory.” Mohan nodded, looking impatient and concerned at thesorcerer’s shuffling feet and slow pace. “And the story is told thatour hearts grew dark and we left the path of the Earth Mother to walkin darkness.”
“Yes, that is how the story was told around our fires,” Mohan said.
“And the Earth Mother turned us back to her heart. Well, the Grimtotemstory is different. The Earth Mother did weep at our dark hearts, butonly for our danger, because what we hunted was demons, and those thatbrought them into the world.”
Hidua looked at Pincus warily. “You control that being?” he asked.
“Yes,” nodded Pincus, looking at Pizloz the imp, “though this one is a bit ornery at times.”
“Then you are the most powerful being I’ve ever known,” Hidua said.
* * *
Yichimet’s talons dig into branches. Beings sprout from the barkaround him and pluck his feathers. Vines grow around his feet, growinto his legs, grow through his veins. Yichimet laughs and laughs untilhis voice breaks.
* * *
They stalked near the Quilboar lands. Hidua’s voice was soft, butcontinued the story. “And then there was a time when we sat around thefire with the long-ears. No elder can tell me why. But, like thetricksters and thieves they are, they backed away from the fire anddestroyed our land, stealing it from us.”
“They are deceitful, yes,” Mohan muttered, his eyes going glassy and fierce.
“This is what Yichimet and I sought in the Vision hunt. Answers. Answers to our questions. Only, I have done something wrong.”
* * *
Spirits eat at Yichimet’s flesh. Demons dance on his horns. A white heart bursts from his chest.
* * *
Eelai, the shadowed one, scouted ahead. The Needles’ spires reachedhigh like fingers. They rounded a bend and saw Freewind’s elevators.Hidua sighed.
* * *
Yichimet’s body breaks into pieces. Yichimet’s body melts and drips down the bark.
* * *
A faint smell of alcohol came off Snowfeather’s breath. “Go, look athim! Are you too late? You have been so long getting here!” she criedat Hidua.
The old bull stumbled quickly into the tent. Yichimet was under ablanket, still and near-peaceful. His snout was covered with moistureand sweat coated his palms.
“He is bad. But he is not gone,” Hidua said. “We must mix another sapta.”
“What is a sapta?” asked Eelai.
“It is a mixture. You might call it a potion? We use it for Sight and Vision. We used one for a Vision hunt a few moons ago.”
“What must we do, then?” asked Snowfeather.
“Pincus, Eelai…all of you…would you help him? It will be dangerous.”
“What would happen?” Eelai asked.
“Your spirit leaves your body for a time with a sapta as powerful as we need. You would have to find Yichimet.”
Pincus nodded.
“Probably not the most dangerous thing I’ve done,” Eelai said. “To help a Grim, yes, I would.”
Snowfeather nodded through her near-tears. Mohan did not even make amotion, but his body said yes in the way he stood over hisbrother-in-heart.
* * *
Yichimet’s blood feeds the roots of the Tree.
* * *
Hidua and the Grim stood at the edge of Freewind Post. Hidua’s owlflapped off, carrying messages to Hidua’s elders, who would tell himwhat he needed to know to make the sapta.
Snowfeather gave him a blanket and water and helped him in to the tent so he could watch over Yichimet and rest.
“It is my fault,” Hidua said as he sat down with a grunt.
“Don’t blame yourself, Hidua,” Mohan said.
“Guilt is not a state to entertain,” Pincus agreed.
Hidua laid down and closed his eyes. In Grimtotem, he muttered, “should’ve been mixed at night.”
* * *
Yichimet sprouts branches and leaves. He drops fruit, and the fruit turns to Fire.