Fighting for Faith; What Lies After
Ten years ago, he had been buried within the very ground which she stood upon. Ten years ago, he had fallen from the spear of a hunter, completely through accident, and he had been taken by death within moments. Ten years, and she quietly stroked the stone chiseled which held his name.
Ten years ago he had fallen; one extremely old even by their standards. She stood strong above the gravestone, and her fingers rested upon it as she prayed to his... to the creator. Even so long ago, she held deep love and adoration for him in her heart, and she could only sigh, trying to fight back the tears. So long, her heart had never, fully, recovered.
"Momma...'" A soft voice made her turn, and she smiled soft unto her daughter, and stroked her cheek with her tail tip. Her daughter gave a soft croon, and nuzzled the tail; before holding a hand out, and gently rubbed along the length of her scale ridge. "Why are you over daddies grave stone? We know he's in heaven." She held her arms out gently, and was lifted by her mother. The elder reptile smiled sweetly, and nuzzled the forehead of her youngest, her only daughter.
"Because, momma misses daddy, that's all." She kissed her daughters forehead, and smiled sweetly as she felt the light purr flow. It was sweet to hear, and it made her sigh, with a lightened heart. "I know, I'll see him someday, but momma misses daddy a lot, but it's ok, I know, its ok." Her daughter gave another happy sound at the attention.
"The Chieftain wants to talk to you, says you need to come and help with the writing of the texts. Not many can read, says it takes a long time to teach them the language of Daddy." She turned her glossy, green scaled head towards the village, which stood strong with wooden buildings, and with a long stone ring surrounding it. The work of her father it was.
"Tell him I will be right there, ok?" She set her daughter down, who gave a light whine, but obeyed and ran to the village. Her stomach felt empty, as did her womb, she had loved the feeling of her daughter inside. Her mind drifted to the look of joy of seeing his daughter, even if the father had been someone else. Yet he understood, it had been his idea, after all.
She walked towards the great wooden gates, and gave a light nod to the guards, who stepped away a bit, to honor her position and place. She walked past the monument to her father, a simple stone cairn, and past the mud and wood temple which had been built over the ruins of the great fire pit. She walked past it all, and towards the hut of her eldest brother, the home of the chieftain. She approached quietly, and gave a soft clasp of her hands to show honor, with her head dipping. He nodded, and welcomed her with a grunt.
Inside, the incense was thin, much thinner than her father had had it, it was sweeter and more gentle, with a hint of fruit thrown in for affect. He was busy reading the scroll of pressed wood, and gazed back towards the stone pile he had set up as a model to the village. It was going well.
"You asked to see me, Chieftain?" And he looked up towards her through his eyes, eyes of silver and strength, the eyes of a man who had taken his fathers place, and surpassed him if not by style, then by willpower alone. He finished his quiet sketch of the plans laid, and then gazed back up towards hr.
"Yes. The brothers require your help in translating parts of the text; we have three copies, but would like to make sure they are proper and correct. We know how your husband felt about proper translations." He adjusted the rock pile, and she sat across from him, seeing him lay out future plans for the growth of the town. They already had six places for fire, as opposed to the one but twenty years past. Now, the walls were expanding, and they had repelled thirteen attacks in half as many years, with only a handful of injuries.
"I will join them shortly. Have you given thought to my plans? We need a place to honor our dead, and to let them become part of the earth. My husband has lain several plans out, since he taught us to make paper. He has shown us ways of moving up and down the river, as well as he has given us thoughts to making roadways to friendly villages. It was also his.."
"Why do you think we are making copies of the holy book? I know it was his wish to spread the word of the faith, but we find much resistance, and it is difficult t meet those who are willing to listen. So, I have come up with alternative means to spread it. We will invite them over, some nights, and speak with them of such things; of course, we have met violence for it. Do not worry, I will not falter."
He carefully adjusted the stones to the side, and gazed at the housing he had been working at. Then with a sigh, he swept his arm across, and began to re-design it, adjusting the wall. "With the river here..."
"Why not bridge the river, we would have a greater land, but we do not know what lies across it." He studied his paper, and then gazed at the stone. She reached her hand over, and very quietly ran a finger over the wood, to leave a trail with her claw in the shape of the river.
"Why not put a bridge across? It would take a great work of stone, and a great deal of wood, but we can do it. And if you worry of the walls, if we were to put a great arches of wood, we would be able to support the walls to cross the river. They would be difficult to do, though." He nodded in her direction, then quietly settled a hand down upon hers.
"Your husband was a brilliant man; he saved my life in combat, you know." I owe him a great deal. Your daughter is very lucky to have had him as a father." There was almost a sound of bitterness in his voice, perhaps jealousy, but she knew better of him.
He held her hand for a moment more, before kissing it softly, and then pulling her into a soft hug. They both missed father, he had been a great man in his time, in their time. But she smiled, something he had always loved since she was young. She was over the worst of the heartbreak. But she would not marry, and he had decided it was best for her to make that decision, to honor both her and her loved ones memory. Plus, she had him in heaven.
"Chieftain!" A voice made his head jerk up, and she looked to him, worried. He signaled for her to be calm, and let her continue re-arranging the tiles upon the board. She had quite an interest in the building of the city, she had held many ideas.
He made his way outside, while clutching the steel of his fathers staff, one which had been melted down into another shape, them tempered, into the first o fmany weapons to come; a blade. He approached the messenger who bowed and held out the scroll, it had come from the outpost of hunters. The symbol upon the cover meant only one thing. Trouble was brewing.
He gathered his blade and signaled to six others, who followed behind as he followed the directions of the messenger. The village looked to be concerned, but the chieftain was doing his duty, they would be safe. The chieftain's son watched him pass, with a hand holding the wooden blade and he readying for any trouble as well, though he was but seven summers old.
They walked the path at a quick hurry, while keeping alert to the many dangers that were about, especially in these times and days. The six followed at an even pace, each clutching their bows at the ready. Their chieftain pointed in the distance to the smoke and the scent of burning wood, the lodge of the hunters was truly in trouble. They stalked towards it, listening to the mumblings of those who had, probably, done such an event. Their hands clutched steel and wood, before the chieftain walked forward, confidently, as a leader should. He stood strong before the gathered, each looking sickly and weak, each holding a bloodied wooden spear in their hands.
A prisoner was between them, one of the females; her body was badly beaten, and she looked to have been abused in other ways, ways which made his blood boil and his teeth clench. But he stood strong, his bright red shade of scales appearing almost as flames, while the blade reflected the bright red.
"I am Arphaxal, Chieftain of the Sissihiri Tribe, and Owner of these lands. You are upon my territory, and you have attacked my people. Our laws demand your death, but we want to know why you attacked us, first." He held his blade out, truly impressive to those who had never seen steel before. They regarded his blade and him, as though he were mad...
" The land belongs to no one. We attacked your people for stealing our game, the game here is ours, as is all game about..." The largest one gave a hiss, easily a head taller than the chieftain. But the chieftain did not flinch, nor did he back down as most would have. He just stood strong, knowing he was in the right.
"This land is our land, this game is our game, we have built upon it, and have claimed them both. Had you come when we began to build, we would have welcomed to talk to you about it, but by attacking outright, you have proved to be a threat." He shifted his position, and held his blade at his side, now touching the earth.
The largest one held his massive wooden club up, and just glared long into the eyes of the other. But neither flinched, their eyes met as they sized the other up.
"You are given one chance to surrender, and we will take this into consideration when your crimes are punished. But if you do not, we will put you to death for your acts." And he saw the flinch, and the club was sent sailing at his head. But he brought the blade up and slammed its edge into the wood, catching, and slicing a great deal of it off.
The great one stood, shocked for a moment, in shock, before he took another swing, catching the blade and turning it aside in a wide arc. The six other hunters watched carefully, but refused to break the cycle as the two battled hard and violent. Their weapons met again and again, while they tried to overpower. One stood with anger, the other stood with a calm collection. Even if he had never fought to the death before.
They circled one another, while their bodies poured adrenaline in, and one swung for the others chest, missed, and felt a sharp kick. The chieftain grunted at the rough strike, before he snapped the blade to the side, slicing into the gut. There was a grimace, as the larger reptile staggered back, while holding a hand to his open stomach. The chieftain held the blade out towards him, towards his throat.
"Surrender." He murmured, while hissing deep and gentle, yet in a way that let the others understand his threat. His long red crest flared with blood, and his hands tightened upon the hilt.
"No." And then his eyes rolled back as the blade was sunk in. He had given him a choice.
The others of the tribe knelt, and they bore their throats as sign of submission, his blade would feed from them, by laws. But no, the chieftain instead motioned for his hunters to step forth, and they gathered the many prisoners up while he, himself, while the great chieftain crouched and lifted the injured female up, and held her over his shoulder.
"A small hunting party, they must have ambushed." He looked the prisoners over, before gesturing with a hand, and snapping a bite to emphasize his distaste. But he turned and carried her injured, unconscious form back to the village, while his hunters lead the gathered prisoners.
The village met the news with anger and sorrow, while his sister, older than him by twenty years, merely began to nurse the injured girl back to health. But she had sadness in her heart which made him angered, because his love for her was great. He sat with her and helped look over the wounds while deciding the fate of the prisoners, though he knew, and had already chosen one for them, thanks to his sisters input.
He sat upon his seat and gazed long at the board of stones and maps, trying to figure out the troubling question that had been working his mind over. But right now, he just watched the girl and his sister, with a heavy heart upon his breast.
The law would demand their death in the old days, and now... the laws were quiet clear upon what to do with a person like that. His hands fell upon the scroll and he read it again, before looking at his sister, who nodded her head quietly.
His hand held his blade and he gently lifted himself up, while his sister drew to his side, before she walked towards the doorway, and then stood before the tribe, and the prisoners who had been tied to the posts, as prisoners should, and he quietly drew the blade up, to tap against his palm. A heavy burden upon his chest, to do with these gathered.
His eyes closed, and he prayed to the Maker for strength, for the ability to dispense justice as it should be, and not as he should have done in the past. He stood, and gazed upon each, and saw their fear. He saw only fear in their eyes, in their long scents, a smell which he had grown to hate in his time.
He watched each of them, then gazed upon the tribe for a moment. Their hearts were strong, and he feared to do wrong by them, before he lifted the blade, and swung it down, severing the rope holding one. Then he stepped back.
"In the land of the Sissihiri; The Maker has commanded to us that we be merciful, even when our enemies are not. Though you have killed members of our kind, we feel... I feel, that you did not do so out of malice, but of fear, and because your leader would have killed you had you not done as he wished. While this does not excuse what you did, it gives me the want to forgive you." He tapped the blade upon each head, as he severed their ropes.
And with a breath, he gestured towards the gates, and turned, with his fingers tightening upon the hilt. They watched him, and he paid no heed as he stepped inside, and sank into his throne. His breath was hard and heavy, and then he shuddered, while gripping the blade which he pushed against the ground. His eyes were closed, and his teeth clenched in his jaw.
His sister touched a hand upon his shoulder, and he looked over at her quietly, before he pulled her down, and touched his lips to her forehead, and kissed her very softly. But then he drew back and looked down at the well layered floor, and she sat beside him, in the empty throne of the queen who had never been named. He quietly held her as a sibling would, and he looked long towards the door as it was opened.
One of the prisoners was brought in, and looked long towards the pair. He watched, and he gazed, then he inhaled long before starting to speak to the chieftain. The chieftains sister rose quietly, and then made her way out. And soon, she was at the grave again, and silently settled herself down, to rest her hands upon the grave and looked up towards the slowly setting sun...
"Momma..." She turned he rhead, and looked upon her daughter for a few moments, sweetly. "I'm tired." She said, and her mother just smiled, stroking her daughters crest.