FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

*Copyrighted by Tyvara_Panther January 2, 2009.

This story was originally intended for a story contest that I found out about too late to finish my entry, but I was really enjoying where the story was going, so I decided to finish it anyway. The theme for the contest, in case you're wondering, was green.

I want to note that I was influenced heavily by the Popol Vuh and The Road to Eldorado, while writing this.

Thanks for stopping by, and happy readings. ^^

   The world was an array of green â€" everywhere were immense trees that filled the landscape; their boughs extended as far down as upwards, and intertwined with one another like a varying maze of limbs and leaves: Each towering behemoth of greens and browns were covered in a diversity of life, which spread throughout the forest with gay abandon, and across the forest floor that rambled haphazardly in paths of deep-brown soil, peppered by moss laden rocks, as well as discarded branches and fallen leaves; all this amongst thick bushes and plants, some laden with flowers, while others bore early signs of fruit. Light could only be seen as filtered rays that crisscrossed down between the laden limbs above â€" and the air was thick and moist with mist that hung heavy with dense weight. From high above calls of howler monkeys, and large parrots echoed through the green sky, as the underbrush was scattered with creatures all about their own business: One such creature moved as a shadow that glinted in the greens of the world around her, and though she moved quickly, not a branch or bush was disturbed, and as the creature slowed she became clearly visible â€" her body was that of a sleek black panther, situated within the form of an athletic woman; her mid-length black hair was tightly braided like a twisted rosette around her head, and bound tightly in place by its own intricateness; her eyes both bright and alert, were the palest of amazonite green, and so much like the stone with its flecks and stripes of color, all accented by sultry lids with feathery lashes; her face was rather statuesque, and glowed with an ethereal youth, regardless that her brow was currently furrowed in concentration; her most striking feature by far was the pair of obsidian wings that, as she held them folded close to her back, in places reflected the shimmering greens of the forest, and aided as a handy camouflage; her clothing, though scarce, seemed to be a single strip of supple black leather that wrapped around her body and held everything in place â€" the color matched her coat so well, that the only clue she was clothed, was the area of her body where spots were hidden, and the spots themselves were as predominant and as visible as a leopard, due to an ethereal silver shimmer of her coat, almost as if she were in full light, instead of the deep shadow of the forest floor thick with mist.

   She stopped moving rather abruptly, though the action itself was graceful, and she rested a paw on the trunk of a nearby tree. She slowly looked around the area, and held her head upwards as she took in a deep breath of the foggy rainforest air, and let the thick particles fill her lungs. â€So Teoxihuitl,†The creature began, as she addressed herself. â€I wonder what the Maker, Modeler have planned for us on this excursion.†She swished her tail about her hips, as she ruffled her wings to rid them of the moisture that the dense air had caused to collect on her feathers. Her ears shifted and pivoted, but the only noises that reached her, were typical rainforest sounds. Satisfied that she was alone, she began to speak aloud once more. â€Oh the complexities of the Makers.†She said with a near exasperated, though bemused tone, accentuated by a sideways smile. â€I hope you know,†she looked upwards as she addressed the upper planes. â€It’s rather unsettling to be ripped from one’s realm, and dropped in the middle of a forest with no more direction than: The irresistible urge to accomplish something, and to do so quickly.†Teoxihuitl paused momentarily, only to give another smile as she continued, â€I know it’s far more rewarding when I figure out these puzzles on my own, but that doesn’t make the beginning part of this any less frustrating.†With her free paw, she extended a few claws, and scratched the back of her neck as she looked around with strained hope, before she looked resigned, and spoke aloud once more. â€So, you’re really going to make me accomplish this all on my own?†She pushed away from the tree she had been against, and resumed her journey through the thick foliage, this time her pace was slow and leisurely. â€That’s fine, I can do this. I’ve done it alone before.â€

   With her peace made with the Maker, Modeler, Teoxihuitl continued on in silence â€" all her senses on high alert for anyone that might choose to cross her path; she had no desire to look for anything in particular, since she wasn’t sure what exactly she should look for. Experience had taught her, that the problem the Maker, Modeler had sent her to resolve, would eventually reveal itself â€" there was seldom cause to send out magical creatures to deal with man, but the Maker, Modeler had their reasons, and she was wont to question their wise ways.

   After she had traveled a while, her efforts were rewarded by the sounds of an animal as it dug through the underbrush â€" it was not far off, and with a ruffle of her luminescent green feathers, she became stealth, and near invisible; her movements were as if she flew through the trees toward the sounds, of what she was sure was a peccary, busy to uproot its morning breakfast. When she came upon the animal, it was in fact a muscled razorback, his lips lined with bristled white hairs. Teoxihuitl called out to the peccary before she stepped into the open.

   â€Lipped Peccary,†she addressed, â€I’ve come far, from the upper planes. Know you of any ills in the forest?†As she appeared before the razorback he became frightened, but answered her nonetheless.

   â€There is a curse on the Maize people that live over the Great Falls. If they come to the forest to hunt, they cannot see us, and walk away with dry spears and empty bellies.â€

   â€Can you take me to the Great Falls?â€

   â€I do not know the place, but I know a quetzal bird who has flown over their land; I can take you to him?â€

   â€Very well, lead on.â€

   The peccary turned and scuttled away, Teoxihuitl ever at his hoofs, until he stopped at a tree and called upwards. â€Little Quetzal Bird, there is a traveler from the upper planes who wants to know of the cursed tribe that lives on top of the Great Falls.â€

   â€I’ve flown over their land many times, they can see no birds in the sky, and cannot hunt them.†The voice called down, and as Teoxihuitl scanned the trees above, she soon caught sight of the small, brightly colored bird.

   â€Could you take me there?†Teoxihuitl called up.

   â€I could take you there by flight, but I doubt you want to descend upon them from above.â€

   Which was true, Teoxihuitl had no intention of inquiring the hysteria that a winged panther, descending on a village from the sky could cause, and the Quetzal bird continued, â€But I know a coati that crossed their land unseen; I could take you to her?â€

   â€Then lead on.†So the Quetzal bird leapt from his perch, and within a few wing-beats, he was into the forest; Teoxihuitl on the ground below and close behind, as if she too were flying, though she would only glide over and around obstacles as she ran. The moisture in the air began to thicken as they went, and soon it started to rain with immense and heavy droplets, followed shortly by dense mist until the ground was shrouded under-paw.

   Then â€" after the longest of moments â€" they came to a shallow pool dotted by raindrops, and the Quetzal bird flew high onto a nearby tree branch and called out, â€Mother Coati, there is one from the upper planes come to ask about the cursed people over the Great Falls.â€

   From the pool side, Teoxihuitl looked upwards as she gave a quick ruffle of her wings, which once again rid them of the built up water â€" and near the Quetzal bird, in a tree-nest settled into a crevice between a branch that hung out over the pond, she saw a white nose stick high into the air, followed by a lightly masked face, as the coati looked downward from her home. â€I crossed their land before the trees died, and before they ate their dogs for food.â€

   â€How came you by that knowledge then?†Teoxihuitl called.

   â€Before I went into breeding, a dog from the Great Falls escaped, and came to be underneath my tree in a mad raving, and a badly wounded leg. I gave him moss from my nest to heal his injuries, and after a few crazed nights under my tree, he left. I had heard he found his way to Old Maned Wolf’s cave. That dog may have killed him; Maned Wolf was very, very old.â€

   â€I know the cave.†The Quetzal bird interjected, â€I could take you there.â€

   â€Very well.†She said with a sigh. This could take a while: The animals of the forest could be helpful, and always wanted to help, but their information was scattered at best, disconnected and rumor at worst, and there had been many a time when she’d been sent on a mission that had taken months of information gathering, and wild goose chases, before she had even remotely managed to understand what she had been sent to do â€" and as the Quetzal bird leapt from his perch, the rain had already begun to lessen, and Teoxihuitl dashed off after her guide.

~

   The Maize people of the Great Falls had lived over the precipice for many ages. The great gods of the waters had led a group of the Maize to the cliff over the Great Falls, and shown them the shallow pools that collected near the rushing river; the Maize people had built their homes â€" and then their city, by the pools where the thick reeds grew, but that had been many, many long years ago, and now their city had dwindled to pathetic tent shanties where terra-cotta homes had once been; the walls had crumbled, and the people had dispersed, or died as the forests fell, and the earth turned dry and hard. The shamans had stayed with those who would not leave, for it was their job to heal the land, and those that harmed it.

   The destruction of the land had come slowly, and over many years: First when the trees and plants were cut down, always more than anyone needed, with the waste tossed recklessly over the falls â€" afterward the foliage died, so the people began to tear up the land in order to make farms for food â€" this in turn made the land coarse and dead, so they drained the riverside pools to feed the soil for their farms â€" then the rains slowed, and the Great Falls became a slow trickle; the pools left as puddles with their reeds either wilted and greyed, or crisp husks that had baked under the hot sun. As time passed, the land was not healed, and the shamans began to die, and with each lost mystic the people became more twisted â€" blinded that their own deeds had destroyed their home, and they did crazed rituals to redeem the land, thinking the death of the shamans was a sign of incompetence â€" that was when the animals began to disappear, the hunters would return with smaller and smaller game, until none could be found in the outlying forests, and famine began to sweep through the remnants of the Maize people of the Great Falls, until not a babe or beast was safe â€" save for the shamans, for the people secretly feared them. Few sought shelter of the mystics in those times, though they requested medicines and aid for the wounded, and though the shamans tried â€" the people could not be healed, so they would continue to rape the land, and became sick with their distemper, and with each failed attempt to heal the earth, a wise mystic was lost, until there was only one left with her apprentice â€" the last two of all the shamans â€" the last of the hope for the land of the Great Falls.

   The last shaman schooled her apprentice in the mystic ways, and taught him the flow of energy, and the balances of the universe; she taught him of the sacrifices, and how that the greater the prospective change, the greater the sacrifice required. This wise shaman, and the last of the Great Falls, did her best to impart all her knowledge â€" all her years of training to her young pupil, for in him was the hope that if the last shaman could not heal the land, then her successor, with all the training of the past mystics â€" the last child born with the gifts of the shamans, before the women had become barren like the earth â€" could give the proper sacrifices to undo the damage done.

   But all had been for naught, as there had been a great shake of the earth, and it took the last shaman in broken bones on the dry crags below the trickling waterfall: The people of the land saw this as the greatest curse â€" they were now left with a half-trained apprentice â€" which wrought fear and despair amongst the last of the Maize people of the Great Falls, for though the shaman’s apprentice was a skilled healer, he was still only that â€" an apprentice â€" he had never gone through the rights, or seen the mysteries required of a true mystic man, and now he was left with no guide â€" the last apprentice to the old shamans â€" the healer Matlal.

   Matlal sighed softly to himself as he ran his hand over the carved pictures that had been engraved into the cave walls, the last, he himself had carved into the sacred place on the death of his teacher. On this day, he had climbed down the cliff face into the blackness of the sacred cave to collect the mosses that grew there, but with any visit he would stop at the carvings, and pray; he would give devotions to the gods, and the ancestors, and the wise shamans, and ask for aid â€" any aid they saw fit to send, for he would be glad of any. When finally his hand fell from the wall he took a few steps back, and blinked to refocus his eyes from his state of prayer; he then gathered his satchel, and with his light-stick to guide him, he descended from the blackness of the cave, and only diminished the light when the sun’s rays cast shadows ahead of him. When the entrance was reached, Matlal blinked his eyes as they adjusted to the brightness of the sunshine. He welcomed its warmth as the cave had been murky and cool â€" though heat seemed to be all the sun brought in these days, and he rubbed the warmth back into his honey-brown skin as he surveyed the landscape below and beyond: There had been a time when the cave had been hidden behind the waterfall, and the forest below could only be seen from high above on the cliff’s edge, but now the once great falls was a dribble of its former self, and its spray barely reached him to dampen the onyx black hair that hung down his back.

   When finally he turned from the forest, and looked upward at the climb ahead of him, he ran his hands over his head to rest in his palms as he leaned backward slightly, and mentally noted foot and hand holds â€" then with a soft sigh, he took the loose ends of his loincloth, and wrapped them around his thighs, tucked tightly enough that he was certain it would not come undone, before he began the arduous climb up the cliff face. The beginning was always the hardest, what with the fight against the constant pull downwards, and the ever-present need, for a solid hold in order to propel the body upward, but after a while, progression came smoothly as a constant pace was reached, and though Matlal’s back and brow were beaded with sweat, the climb was less a struggle, and taken more in a state of trance which escorted him to the cliff’s ledge; his toned muscles flexed from the exertion, and by the time he had pulled himself over the edge, and had untied his loincloth from its bundled state about his thighs, and was finally given a moment’s respite, his limbs tingled from the experience.

   Matlal’s features were fairly typical for his people with his prominent nose and dark coloring, and although he wasn’t a shining example of the elegance of the Maize people, he most certainly wasn’t the worst, and he was perfectly contented with that. He was rather tall, and though he had been lanky in his youth, that had given way to lean muscle as he aged, and if he wasn’t the strongest, he had at least performed enough feats of strength to keep the people from harassing him too terribly â€" and the people were still afraid of him, for more reasons than he was probably aware.

   Quickly he righted himself from the climb and stood, looking only mildly elegant as his eyes still shifted about him nervously, and he crossed the ragged-tented village to his home. Some he passed regarded him with vehement distaste, only displayed by the ugly rage-filled distortions of their faces; others turned their heads away, and retreated back into their shanties, but regardless, each that Matlal passed would treat him with silence, as if he were some tainted and loathsome spirit. Still Matlal walked past them all, his pack full of the days herbal collections clasped firmly to his chest: Experience had taught him that in these times whoever could leave the city grounds, and successfully gather anything of use, was subject to the townsfolk when they returned, and Matlal was the only one who even had any success these days â€" his traps were the only ones that snared what wasn’t decayed, infested, or empty when recovered; only he could find edibles anywhere be it by tree, bush or root; still only he could ever get plants to grow, and it was only to him that the animals afoot, and the birds in the sky would deem to reveal themselves â€" and further, only he had clung to a shred of sanity as the curse had taken its toll on the people, and the land â€" some of whom had gone to rather extreme lengths to feed themselves, and many weren’t past tripping a cursed shaman apprentice to gather the spoils that spilt from him, so he kept his eyes alert, and his body tense, until he found himself within the safety of home â€" a cave that the shamans had occupied since long before the city was built â€" let alone fallen, and the people were too wary of the spot due to that simple fact to encroach upon it to remove him.

   Still tense from the moment, the muscles in his torso still tightly flexed, Matlal put his things in their proper places before he made a low fire in its pit â€" and when embers sparked red from the small flames, he threw in a few handfuls of tinder, and a bit of powdered copal until the sweet smoke billowed forth in swirled tendrils â€" it was then, while he watched the smoke dance before him, that he felt the tenseness throughout his body fade, and slowly seep from the muscles still excited by the recent climb; further still from his furrowed face, which he only became aware of as his body relaxed; so he let the stress leave him as he closed his eyes, and sighed with pleasant relief. It was only then under such blissful repose, that he opened his eyes, and went to his various clay jars of herbs and remedies, and began to set some aside, seemingly at random â€" throughout which, he maintained detached silence as if lost within his own mind and a myriad of thoughts; his eyes out of focus and hazy until he had selected the last of the jars, and gathered all his supplies, and brought it to his stool by the pit.

   As Matlal sat by the fire, he took his stone grinder and set it in his lap, and with a few herbs sprinkled in the bowl, he took a smoothed stone and began to triturate â€" slow and rhythmically until he was satisfied that all was blended sufficiently, before he poured the results into a bowl, and took up the next herbal concoction: He sat that way for a long time, the only deviation was to throw another handful of copal or sage into the fire, and the sound of silence persisted until there was a swift-soft knock at the cave’s entrance, and a small knobby hand pulled back the curtain that served as a door.

   The form stood at the entrance, frail, thin, and shadowed until Matlal called out; his voice gentle, and yet authoritative. â€Yes the healer is in, come and ask what you will of me.â€

   The small feminine form slowly tiptoed into the cave, her head held low, and eyes so adhered downwards that they would certainly never turn upwards in Matlal’s presence. She clutched her arm tightly, and hobbled with a slight limp; when she had come as close to Matlal as she could seem to stand, she held out her arm, and spoke hoarsely in a voice that cracked as her whispered request tumbled out, drenched in tones of indecision. â€I hurt my arm healer.â€

   Matlal waited a few moments expecting the woman to continue, but she never did, so he rose from his stool, and went to look at the woman’s arm; she had indeed hurt it, probably about a week ago, and what had more than likely started as a small wound had now become rather unsightly. The woman held her head away as Matlal inspected her, and she seemed to want to pull from him, as her body leaned backwards slightly, but she remained rooted where she stood.

   â€I will do what I can.†Matlal said as he released her arm, and the woman quickly retracted it back to the safety of her chest. He turned from her, and exhaled exasperated â€" though silently â€" and went to get the salve he had been working on. Matlal always seemed to be prepared with the right tools to aid whoever came to be healed, but at times it seemed superfluous as whatever calamity the people seemed to get in, no matter what he did, eventually the Bearer, Begetter would take whatever they wanted, and all Matlal seemed to be capable of was to bring relief for the pain or discomfort, and often times Matlal suspected that was the only reason they came to him, let alone kept him around so long, especially when the curse worsened after his teachers death, and then his excommunication to the shamans cave: Though he had enjoyed his solitude as it prevented him from the atrocities that were committed daily by the people â€" he was of no help to them, and he would not leave until he could complete what his teachers had trained him for, or at the very least the curse upon him was removed, and the Maker, Modeler sent him on his chosen path. Really he would settle for anything at this point.

   â€Healer? Will I keep my arm?†The woman whispered.

   Matlal turned, and replied in a soothing voice, â€I will do what I can.†So he walked forward, and began to treat the woman â€" the first in what was sure to be an unending task until the sun had set, and the people would return home, before he would be free to be alone, to study and to pray.

~

   Teoxihuitl sighed with mild vexation as she leaned against a sapote tree, and made the attempt to clear her mind, so she could think clearly. Little Quetzal Bird had taken her to the cave of Old Maned Wolf, and the dog from the Great Falls had in fact disposed of the wolf, and had kept the cave for himself, though the dog was in no real state for interrogation as the maddened state referred to by Mother Coati had taken its course, and Teoxihuitl had disposed of the dog to end its needles suffering, after which, she dismissed the quetzal bird as he could no longer offer any further help.

   It all had given her an idea as to what she may be searching for: A cursed breed of human creatures could provoke the need for Devine assistance, since the Bearer, Begetter had already seen fit to curse them. Teoxihuitl rubbed her back against the tree as she mulled over all the newfound information; the entirety of it all made her mind itch with curiosity â€" she had to learn more of these Maize people of the Great Falls. And then, almost as if she had commanded it, she heard a rustling in the bushes overshadowed by harsh male toned voices. She stood still, every hair and feather stiff with tension, and as the sounds grew closer, Teoxihouitl became aware of how true the animals stories had been.

   Before she saw them, she smelled them, five total â€" each with some revolting malady that sent the smell of gangrenous flesh to her nose, but as they crossed the forest before her, they gave little likeness to what the smell pertained: They seemed relatively healthy, though two did sport rather unsightly black wounds on arms and back; they were dressed for the hunt, with weapons ever at the ready, hunched in stalking poses as they whispered harshly to one another.

   â€I say you lie, Brother! There is no flesh in these woods.†One of the tall ones, his skin like blackened bread, grumbled.

   â€I smelled the healer cooking suckling, fool!†The other man replied, his frame more boxish though sagging as if the muscle had withered and fattened.

   â€The healer is a trickster.†The smaller one replied, the one with a black wound on his back that took over much of the shoulder blade. â€He sends smells out to make us mad â€" He has no meat.â€

   â€And I’ve told you I saw him with a fat fowl.†Another man with a wound on his left elbow and lower back, responded to the smaller one.

   â€And I saw him with a basket of sweet fruits before any of that.†The last man replied with a grumpy guttural voice.

   â€And still I say you are fools, with eyes that see things.†The smaller one urged. â€Keeping that healer alive is what’s causing everything to go wrong. Why do you think it’s only he who can give us any relief in our sufferings, and further, that we are the ones who suffer while he seems to grow stronger every day?â€

   â€I know what I saw!†The boxish one insisted with huge fists that flexed tightly around his spear in apparent frustration. â€If that useless Matlal can find food in this jungle then so can we!â€

   "Did you hear that?" The tall browned man queried sharply in a harsh whisper as he held up a hand to stall his boxish brother.

   "What; you heard something?"

   "Shut your mouth and listen for once!" They all took a pause, their attention focused on the forest around them, then the sound of disturbed underbrush, not far from where the men stood, reached their strained ears.

   "See! I told you there were animals in the forest!" The one with the wounded elbow whispered sharply.

   "Yes, yes, but it's not caught yet, so let's flush that thing out!" The boxish man ordered as he gave looks to each of the men, and quickly the group became hushed as they broke off into the woods, their movements now calculated and slow as they searched the area, until finally their efforts were rewarded as a black object dashed from behind a tree.

   "There it goes! After it!" One of the men shouted, and they all took off after the creature who dashed and dodged just beyond their reach, almost as if it flitted from one point to the next: Around trees, past bushes, and over upturned logs they flew, never with a decent view of the creature, only a vague black shape that molded to the forest around it; each hunter every so often almost in reach of a decent spear throw, only to have that moment vanish as the beast dashed beyond their reach. Hunger drove them more than anything; the chance at a decent meal too profound to be concerned about species, though as they continued to run, the creature seemed to become winded as each passing moment forced it to a slower pace, but still not one of the hunters caught a decent glimpse of what they followed.

   So they ran on, each hunter vying for the perfect shot until finally the trees parted to a small field surrounded by a high wall of rock and dirt, as if the area had been scooped out, and filled with soft grasses and flowers; it was there that the hunters caught their first glimpse of what they so fervently pursued: The creature stood tall, like a young woman with the face and fur of the great panther; with her back to the wall, she spread wide the huge wings which sprouted from her back for just a moment, and the glimmer that rippled off them sent flashes of green across the grassy knoll. She stood tall, almost impossibly so, as if she had surpassed the height of the meadow itself, yet she had grown no inches at all; though, as a javelin arched across the field, its shaky path inconceivably accurate, it lodged itself firmly in her side with only a small bit of bare tip that protruded from her back, which left the grass splattered in blood; the creature let out a sharp jaguar screech, and her wings folded around her as she pulled her limbs inward, her body deformed and hidden â€" until it shrank, and the form of the woman had vanished, but the panther with wings remained, the spear still lodged deep in her side.

   The hunters approached the body, each with eyes as wide as their lids would allow, and faces ashen.

   "What did you do!" The man with the elbow wound barked as he turned his attention accusingly toward the short one.

   "Nothing!" The short one screeched. "I mean . . . I don't know, I just threw." He stammered as he flexed his knuckles. "I didn't see it."

   "That's a panther!" The guttural voiced man who was closest exclaimed, as his hands visibly shook.

   "I can see what it is now!"

   "It's been sent by the Maker, did you see its magic? Look at those wings!" The tallest cried out, his face plastered with mystified awe. "The Bearer, Begetter sent us a creature from the upper planes â€" and you kill it!"

   "It's not dead, it breathes! Oh thank the Maker, it's still alive!" The man with the guttural voice practically exploded with relief, as he bent down, and noticed the creature’s chest rise and fall.

   "Quiet all of you!" The boxish one growled loudly. "Give me a moment to think!"

   The other hunters paused as their leader gripped his chin in thought; though the boxish man’s face was white, his eyes were distant and lost in thought, and he remained so for the longest of moments until he shook himself out of his dazed state with a rough toss of his head. "We should take it to Matlal." He said as he looked to each of his warriors in turn, after which he held up a hand to stall any protest as he continued, "I don't trust Matlal's abilities as a shaman any more than any of you, but not one of us can deny that he's an adept healer, and a healer is what we need right now."

   Some of the men looked to the injured panther creature, and nodded their assent, while there were those that bit their lips, and hung their heads in compliance.

   "I suggest we build a litter, the creature will be easier to carry that way."

   The men complied with their boxish leader, by their immediate search for the materials to construct the litter, and with little effort it was quickly constructed; the creature was then carefully lifted onto the pallet, which was done with relative ease, since the only notions that the beast was still alive were the soft cat growls, and the slow rise and fall of its chest.

   With the tallest man at the head of the litter, the gruff voiced man at the foot, and the others on guard around them, the men took their delicate cargo, and made off for home â€" they past no sights or sounds of animals on the trip back, and the forest seemed a darker place; the eerie, persistent silence followed until they had reached the edge of forest, almost as if a line marked where their home territory ended, and the rest of the world began; it was only then that sound filtered to the hunters ears, though the sounds brought no comfort, only the wails of the starving and sick.

   When they came within sight of the village, those that had been waiting for the hunters return, became excited as they saw that there was something they carried; in their excitement they called out to the other townsfolk, and by the time the hunters reached the village's edge a large group had assembled, and their shouts of elation reached their ears.

   "What have you brought us?" One of the townspeople shouted.

   "Clear our path!" The boxish hunter yelled back. "We need to get to Matlal's cave."

   "Who's been injured?" A woman wailed.

   "There's no one injured." Another interjected. "I see all the hunting party. What did they catch â€" can anyone see?"

   Angered and frustrated the boxish hunter growled at the people. "Clear our path! We have no time for this." But the throng of people pressed in, desperate to see what the hunters had caught. "If you all don't get out of our way, I swear to you my men will knock you down, and we won't carry you with us to the healer." He threatened, as he shoved the people back with a huge motion of his arm which pushed many of them backwards, enough to put a little fear in them to force them out of his way; each of the men who stood on guard around the litter did the same, and held their spears out menacingly. Though the people stayed back, they followed closely, still anxious to see what the hunters carried suspended on the litter, and as the hunters walked on, a murmur spread through the crowd as the townsfolk became aware of the winged panther, and wails of doom and dread began to spring up among the people.

   The sound carried so far that Matlal heard them as their cries broke through his tranced state, and he rose from the fire pit to walk to the cave entrance: As he held the leathered door flap aside, he looked out and saw that the entire town made their way to his cave. He might have thought they were coming to dispose of him â€" it had been something he’d expected for some time now â€" but he immediately noticed they carried a creature with them, something that â€" did not come from this world: He rushed from the cave, and met the people as they reached him.

   "Bring her inside quickly." Matlal's voice almost soothing despite its urgency, and the hunters complied as he turned to face the rest of the town. "Please go home, and let me work in peace." Without a second glance he turned, and slipped back within his home, only to face the hunters who stood around the winged panther, concern etched on every line of their bodies.

   "We came across it hunting in the forest.†The boxish leader explained as he looked down at the wounded animal. â€It lead us to a meadow where it transformed, and was shot. It caught us by surprise." The boxish hunter said, then turned and looked directly at Matlal. "We're bringing it to you so you can heal it. No one expects you to know what to do with it, just don't let it die. People with more authority will decide what will become of it."

   "Yes, I believe they will." Matlal replied, and walked toward the litter to examine the panther. â€I will care for her as best as I can. Please wait outside, or take yourselves to your own homes.â€

   The hunters grumbled, but as the boxish hunter left, the others turned and followed.

   Once alone, Matlal lay a hand on her neck, the fur there was so soft that it barely felt panther-like, and the ethereal silver spots that covered her shone, despite that the main source of light came from the fire; the fur atop her head had a stylistic swirled curve to it, and the wings lay snug across her back, with only a slight droop to them, the outermost wing rested against the spear in her side â€" she panted still, but it seemed more controlled, so as Matlal rose from his charge’s side, he paused momentarily as he absorbed the moment at hand, before he went back to his seat by the fire to gather what he had been working on prior. "You are quite remarkable. Never had I thought that the Maker, Modeler would send anything so . . ." He paused as he turned back toward the panther creature to see her eyes open, and her head stretched in his direction, so to see him better. Matlal's mouth curled up in a partial smile as he moved back to her. "I'm not sure of what word would be the most respectful." The panther creature gave a soft smile in return, and Matlal continued, "I wasn't aware that a creature like you could be wounded in such a manner."

   "Sometimes a little improvisation is required. Though I'll admit, this isn't my first choice." She replied as her head followed Matlal's movements as he stood over her, a few cloths in hand, his poultices arranged around him.

   "I take it that your injuries are not that serious."

   She shook her head slightly. "I still have a spear in my side though."

   "Yes. Well, it would probably be easier to push the head of the spear fully through, before I break off the end, and remove it."

   "You're my healer, I am in your hands."

   So Matlal positioned his hands around the spear. "Whenever you are ready." He looked down at her, and she nodded as her paws gripped the sides of the litter, and with one great shove downwards, Matlal pushed the spearhead fully through her back, the motion accentuated by the sound and feel of stone against rib cage bone. Quickly Matlal rearranged his hands around the spear, and with a quick and fluid movement, he snapped off much of the long end of the protruding spear before he moved to the spearhead that stuck out of her back, and yanked one final time. The creature gave little sound to all Matlal's actions save for a guttural feline grunt, and a spastic flex of her paws around the litter's edge. Once the spear had been removed, Matlal quickly applied a poultice to the wound, and applied a clean bit of linen over the top and underneath. "If you just lie there and rest, this should help."

   "Thank you Healer." The creature added as Matlal walked around the litter, and sat down at his seat by the fire.

   "I am called Matlal; you may call me that if you will. The villagers refer to me as Healer."

   "They call me Teoxihuitl." She replied, her head ever turned in his direction. "You are a fine healer Matlal. You had a poultice ready for my arrival I see. Your foresight is very keen."

   "A gift as much as a curse, and a reason the townsfolk have no trust in me, as they've often thought of it as proof of my involvement in their illness."

   "It is because they are sick from The Curse, and nothing more. No creature is in their right sense under a curse from the Bearer, Begetter."

   "So then you know what ails my people?"

   Texihuitl shook her head. "I am not aware of which facet of the Maker, Modeler have called upon my services, and sent me here, but it is plain why such a creature as I was needed."

   "Then you have come to heal the land."

   "And a great deal more, I'd suspect. You have done well to remain beyond The Curses influence. Such a great healer you must be, and yet not a full shaman. What befell your teacher Matlal?"

   "The earth took her in one of its great shakings. I've been on my own since then."

   "Alone all this time â€" and still you are alive and sane. I've known none who have fared as well, take pride in that Matlal."

   "I've done what I can, but I cannot do what is expected of me â€" I have nothing great enough to sacrifice; I've never been through the full rights of a shaman, nor have I crossed the star trails and seen the other worlds; I have none of the spirituality necessary to heal this land. Had you not come, I would have thought myself abandoned by the Maker, Modeler. I had always hoped that my work and study would not have been in vain."

   "Certainly the Bearer, Begetter has heard you. So then you know what it will take to save this land, I trust your teacher had instilled that much in you."

   Matlal hung his head. "I do â€" I was not wrong then in thinking my sacrifice would not be enough?"

   Teoxihuitl cocked her eyebrows before she shook her head assuredly. "No, you did well to ask for help. Your teacher should never have been killed, but then with a curse that has lasted as long as this, I'm not surprised that things have gone as awry as they have. You know then that it was supposed to be you who healed this land?"

   "Yes." Matlal said as he looked up. "I would have . . .â€

   But Teoxihuitl shook her head. "It isn't necessary Matlal. You did only what you could. By my presence alone you must know that your sacrifice would have been in vain. I give your soul leave to be at peace."

   Matlal nodded softly to himself as he looked downwards only to look back into Teoxihuitl’s eyes. "I thank you for what you go through."

   Teoxihuitl’s only reply was a deep nod â€" so the two sat next to each other for a moment of silence by the crackling fire; Matlal threw a handful of sage into the flames, and as the smoke twisted and billowed upwards, the two sat, and watched it dance as they took the smoke into them, and let the sweet smell soothe their souls.

~

   After the hunters had left Matlal’s hut, they had urged the remaining women to return to their homes as they began to gather the men, and lead them to the old meeting place â€" the remains of which were only upturned stones scattered about a few broken pillars, and the trip to it was through the old town â€" now only a wasteland of select piles of terra cotta rubble strewn across a bleak-brown landscape peppered by skeletal remains of plants. As they walked, the men began to grumble amongst themselves though the boxish man walked on ahead in stoic silence, his great fists clenched tightly, and his pace slightly faster than the rest â€" even more so once they reached the meeting place where he made a beeline for the broken podium that had represented the leader’s stool.

   Once the rest of the men had filled the area, and arranged themselves as best as possible â€" considering the piles of rubble and debris â€" the boxish hunter cleared his throat as a signal to gather everyone’s attention.

   â€Men, we find ourselves in an interesting situation.â€

   â€Yes; you, and your foolish hunters went out and caught us a sacred being.†One of the men shouted, and the crowd began to grumble.

   â€This creature was sent here to us.†The tall hunter insisted loudly.

   â€I agree.†The boxish hunter assured, and raised his large hands to silence the undertones of discontent. â€Everyone, we need to figure out what we’re going to do with this creature.â€

   â€Why not just let the healer deal with it; he can make it better.†Another man offered.

   â€Has he healed any of you?†The short hunter retorted, and the crowd began to grumble again, so much so that the boxish hunter had to clap his hands loudly to calm them. â€Listen, this is our burden to bear. The healer is a useless apprentice forsaken by his teachers; he is nothing more than a constant reminder of our abandonment by the Bearer, Begetter.†Some of the men nodded their agreement.

   â€We must figure out what to do with it.†the boxish man urged.

   â€Well if it’s sent by the Maker, Modeler then, why were you able to injure it?†A different man from the crowd offered.

   â€Maybe because it escaped the upper realms, and the Maker, Modeler wants it back.†The tallish hunter suggested, as he gripped his chin in thought.

   â€Then we should give it back.†Someone else added.

   â€But since we’ve captured it we should be rewarded.†The short hunter said, as he took a step in front of the broken podium.

   â€Yes, we should get something for returning it!†Another voice called out.

   â€Well if we want it to rain, we should burn it. All that smoke will surely bring clouds.†The short hunter insisted.

   â€Didn’t you ever pay attention to the rituals when you were younger?†The boxish hunter added gruffly. â€We have to drain its blood first.â€

   â€Yes, the blood spilt on the ground will make the land whole again.†Another man added with fervor. â€We must drain the creature!†He said as he shook his fist, and others shouted their agreement.

   â€But we should burn it too, all those shamans were crazy for burning things.†The hunter with the guttural voice added in low tones.

   â€That’s what I’m saying!†The short one barked. â€We need to show the Bearer, Begetter what we want; we should drain its blood to make the ground fertile, and then we should burn it to bring back the rain.â€

   â€I agree!†One of the men from the crowd called, â€We must let the Maker, Modeler know what we want for our reward. We must trade the creature for our land.â€

   â€Then we must build a pyre to burn the creature on.†The boxish hunter said.

   â€But what if Matlal has healed the creature, and it doesn’t want to return to the upper lands?†The tallish one supposed almost absently, â€The beast has great magic, and we might not be able to control it â€" it might even have healed itself already.â€

   â€Then we will tie it down so it can’t escape.†The smallish hunter stated eagerly and added, â€Besides the reward for returning the creature should be worth whatever we have to do.â€

   â€So then, we have made our decision? The creature is to be drained, and burned?†The boxish leader queried, as he gripped the broken sides of the podium, and the crowd of men called out their assent with such strength that the men became so excited that they all stood at once. â€Then go to your homes, get your women, and gather anything that will burn, and we will assemble the pyre in the center of the town, so even the ill may take part in the healing of the land, and so that our combined energies will urge the Maker, Modeler to do what’s right in sight of all we suffer.†The crowd raged in assent, and dispersed back toward the town â€" the hunters now left alone.

   â€So who is willing to drain the animal?†The hunter with the gruff voice spoke first.

   â€It was your idea.†The smallish hunter replied as he pointed to their boxish leader. â€You still have your hunter’s knife, don’t you?â€

   â€I will do it.†The boxish man grumbled, as he stared down angrily at the small hunter, â€I have my knife, and I am not afraid of the creature.â€

   The two hunters stared at one another for a moment, and the smallish one replied with a swift sideways smile. â€Then we will bring the fire.â€

   So the hunters left the meeting place of shattered stone, and rushed off to join the rest of the town; each determined, and convinced that their plans were the best courses of action.

~

   When the cacophonous sounds of the townspeople had gathered outside Matlal’s cave, he turned downward to Teoxihuitl as he stood near her head. â€I will follow when they take you. I would not have you go alone, as this was to be my task.â€

   Teoxihuit’s head rested against the litter as her eyes perked upwards at Matlal. â€That is a brave thing you do. Are you not afraid that you may be part of the healing of the land, and loose your own life in turn?â€

   â€As I said before, it is my burden you must bear â€" I want to follow you, I cannot hide from this simply because it is no longer mine, and if there is a sacrifice I must still make, I would give it, if only to find a usefulness for my existence.â€

   Before Teoxihuitl could reply, the cave door flap was ripped down to reveal the boxish hunter, who held its remnants in his hand before he tossed them aside. Beyond him the sun had kissed the horizon, and cast shadows behind them, accentuated by the glow of torches carried by some of the men. â€We have come for the creature Matlal. Your powers are of no further use to us.â€

   â€So then it begins.â€

   The boxish man made a disgruntled face before he turned to his men. â€Remove the litter, and take the creature to the circle. We shall heal the land since our spiritual leaders have chosen to abandon us.â€

   Matlal stood to one side as the hunters filed into the room, and lifted the litter, but not before they pushed the healer to the floor, and even further out of the way. Matlal stayed on his rump with his arms behind him, and legs spread but bent; he made no notion to rise as the hunters glared down at him, while others repositioned Teoxihuitl on her back, and tied her arms together above, legs below, and firmly to the litter: As her limbs were twisted unnaturally, she complied, and gave all the appearance of an unconscious and injured animal; still, even once the men had finished securing her in place, and removed the litter from the cave.

   Matlal remained motionless until everyone had left: It was only then that he stood, and walked slowly to the doorway, and peered outside â€" what he was greeted with was a huge pyre of debris in the center of the shanty town; the people had gathered anything that would burn, and had created a large rectangular pyre that could fully encompass the litter. Behind it all, the sky was cast in shades of purple and red, and far out on the horizon, past the drop off of the Great Falls, outlines of clouds seemed to swirl in the distance.

   When the litter had been positioned in the center of the pyre, the entire town had gathered around it; even all the frail, sick, and dying had been removed from their beds, and brought to the circle, and when the boxish hunter stepped into the center of it â€" with the setting sun to his back, he held up both hands, and drew the eyes of the entire crowd.

   â€People of the Great Falls!†His voice was loud and strong, and resonated with a strength he did not appear to have. â€Our shamans have abandoned us! They cursed our land, and made it dry, and sick, before they left us with a cursed man as our savior.†As he spoke the outline of clouds churned closer, and the people became fraught with excited chatter. â€The Maker, Modeler has sent us this creature of the upper planes, and we will spill its blood on our parched earth, and we will burn its body to entice the rains to fall, and beseech the Maker, Modeler to let the land be lush once more.†The people gave a scream of assent, and raised their hands to the sky, and sang praise to the Bearer, Begetter. â€It is our task to do what our mystic men were too afraid to do!†As he spoke, he raised his hunter’s knife, clasped firmly in both hands high above his head, â€Let our sacrifice, bring relief to all we suffer!†As the people screamed out in a frenzied sanction, the hunter brought down his knife, square through the chest of the outstretched creature.

   Teoxihuitl let out a loud bone rattling panther scream as the hunter dragged his knife through her torso; her ribs cracked and split under the sharp blade of his knife â€" and as the hunter continued to carve her chest, Teoxihuitl’s form began to shift, and her scream sounded less like the black jaguar, and more like a woman â€" and when he pulled the knife away, the form of the athletic, and feminine winged panther could clearly be seen.

   â€Look!†A male voice called out, â€The clouds are getting closer. We must burn it until the rains fall!†Everyone screamed in psychotic excitement, and men with lit torches tossed them at the pyre.

   Matlal had since crossed the town to the circle, his movements concentrated though effortless in appearance, his face blank and calm, with eyes wide in observance. He watched as the pyre caught fire as the first trail of blood hit the ground, and the boxish hunter leapt back from the burning frame, which arched sprays of blood from his knife as it swung in his stiffened hand; only to fling it, point down into the ground â€" pronounced by a flash of lightning that struck in the distance behind them, which reverberated in a sharp clap, and rumble of thunder moments later.

   â€There will be rain!†A woman screamed over the sounds of bellowing wails, and pleas of the crowd, and the people became more excited in their calls.

   Another flash of lightning arched across the landscape.

   â€The gods hear us!†Another wailed with a sharp snap and growl of thunder for her echo.

   Matlal watched the flames lick the pyre as it was quickly engulfed in tendrils of yellow and red, and smoke belched upwards in a swirled mass of blackened clouds â€" as another lightning bolt branched outward â€" closer than before, and with a thunderclap that momentarily deafened the ears, and shook the body with dread: Still the people went on with their screams and waving about â€" until Teoxihuitl’s head fell to the side â€" and her eyes gazed lifelessly toward the healer â€" pronounced by a violently-rapid flash of lightning that zapped overhead amidst the clouds, only to fall to the ground in huge branched tendrils, and engulfed the people of the crowd â€" the force of which threw Matlal backward, and far off to the ground on his backside, with an arch of pain that stretched across his face, as his left eye burned and sizzled in pain.

   Through the pain Matlal kept his eyes open, determined to see the ritual play out before him, and stared wide as the lightning continually flashed around the people â€" their screams sliced through the air as their flesh burned from their bodies, which disfigured them like shapes of human mud â€" while in the center of the inflamed pyre, the smoke that had built upwards from the burning mass below appeared tinged with deep green that quickly diluted to pale, and in the puffs, the face and form of the burning Teoxihuitl took shape within them, her arms and wings outstretched, as the lightning continued to envelope the people below in bright electric flashes.

   â€People of the Great Falls!†Teoxihuitl’s voice called out, and softened the screams of the crowd by its force. â€You have laid waste to the gifts shown you by the Maker, Modeler; go to them and keep company in their wrath!†Then with a zap â€" the lightning flashed a final time, and the piles of dysmorphic people burst into dust that sprayed outward, before it fell to the ground, and disappeared into the wind. Above him, the shapes of clouds that were Teoxihuitl, spiraled downward until she stood before Matlal â€" the clouds a paler Amazonite green than any stone yet seen, as the healer rose to meet her.

   â€You have done much in your time here among the cursed people of this land, though your purpose was not among them â€" you are needed.†She stretched out her paw to touch his face, and a paw-pad graced over his scorched eye which cooled it â€" and as she held his head in her paw of green clouds, she looked down at him, and continued. â€I take with me your eye, so that it will forever see the upper worlds, and the mysteries therein.†As she removed her paw, his eye was a swirl of spiraled clouds encased within the orb, and what he saw in the vast beyond caused a single tear to slide down his cheek.

   Teoxihuitl folded her wings inward, and from them pulled out a tuft of cloud, and presented it to Matlal; he took it graciously, and as he did so â€" the clouds evaporated to reveal three bright, amazonite green feathers. â€You have seen the mysteries, and I give you a blessing to mark you as such. No longer are you a cursed apprentice â€" you are Matlalihuitl, the shaman and mystic, keeper of the healing arts, seer of the beyond, blessed by the great sacrifice. Go and do your works.†With the last word spoke, the smoke lost its shape as it melted back upwards into the clouds, and high into the sky. Then, in a moment of utter stillness, the sky opened up, and the rain fell.

   Matlalihuitl stood in the downpour, as he held the feathers tightly to him, and then fell to his knees as his head ached from the sight of two worlds displayed split before him â€" and with closed eyes the upper realms enveloped him. With effort, he returned to his cave, and remained there as rain blanketed the landscape, until his head no longer twisted in pain from the double look of the world. Then he packed what belongings he could carry before he left the cave, and stood out in the drenching rain: In his hair the three feathers were braided; in his hand was his good walking stick, so he left, and strolled off into the forest â€" to wherever he should find a need to be.

Epilogue

   Far across the great high forests, where the land was thick and lush with life, a great king stood at the edge of his palace home by his balcony ledge, and looked out across his kingdom: Down at the branching river that crisscrossed the landscape, and the colorful birds that dashed about below. He stood there, his sharp features haggard, and his countenance disheveled â€" lost in his own troubled thoughts, when a servant rushed to his side, and knelt with his head down turned until the king looked to him, and bid him to rise.

   â€My lord, there is a man here from the forests, and has requested to speak with you. He would have been turned away, but the soldiers are afraid of him, and will not go near him.â€

   â€â€" My soldiers?†The king said, as a disbelieving look further distorted his features. â€What does this man want of me?â€

   â€He says nothing other than that he can be of help to you.â€

   â€Bring me this man who makes my warriors afraid.â€

   And the servant dashed away only to return with a strange shadowy man in toe, and once lead to the balcony, the servant quickly dashed away.

   Once the man stepped out onto the balcony, and into the brightness of the midday sun, he seemed to materialize from the shadows; his face was hidden by long hair that was only moderately groomed, and hung about his face and shoulders, further obscured by a thick leather strap which was wrapped around his head, and covered his left eye, and he was dressed in the thick heavy gear of a forest traveler: from his pack covered by his tent material, to his well worn walking staff.

   â€I hope you have come here to do more than frighten my soldiers, not so easy a task for my ruthless warriors, who have seen the terrors, and darkness of what the jungle â€" and men have to offer.â€

   â€Do you say this to frighten or impress Great King?†The forest man asked with a cock to his head.

   â€Whichever has the greater effect.â€

   â€Neither Great King, as I have seen more than your men could ever claim to.â€

   â€Is that so? And how is it a man from the forest can be so bold as to speak in such a way to a king after he transforms his finest men into timid children.†The king said, and crossed his arms.

   â€Great King, I see and know many things. I know that you keep secrets for the good of your people.â€

   â€What do you know of my secrets?â€

   â€I know that your healers have died at the hands of your holy men, and now with them punished, they have no ability to be useful. And your people are sure to panic if they learn their shamans and healers have fallen all over some political feud.â€Â   The king cocked his eyebrow at the man, and the back of his neck began to sweat. â€You know much for so young a forest man.â€

   â€I was not always a forest dweller Great King, but I have spent many years in the company of the earth, and learned of her, and while slept I studied in The Beyond.â€

   â€And you speak in riddles stranger, and I have since learned that those whose tongues are all of riddles, are always plotting behind their tangle of words, and are not to be trusted. You also know much that I have worked hard to keep secret, so I am at a loss of what to do with you.â€

   The forest man gave a short sideways smile as he shook his head from side to side. â€Great King, you misunderstand me, I know that you have lost your way, and your closest advisors have become your enemies, but I assure you, I can earn your trust.â€

   â€And what makes you sure of that?â€

   The man reached behind his head, and began to untie his leather head strap. â€Because, Great King, I see many things.†As he spoke, he pulled the strap from his face. â€I was once like you, trapped in a position put upon me by others.†He then blinked open his left eye, to reveal an orb of spinning clouds â€" stuck like a mystic gem in his socket, â€And the Maker, Modeler heard my calls.†He tossed his hair back, and pulled out a long braided strand of hair that held in its tight folds, three of the palest green feathers the king had ever seen. â€And they sent me an answer.†He looked at the king, and gave a short bow. â€I am Matlalihuitl, the shaman and mystic, keeper of the healing arts, seer of the beyond, blessed by the great sacrifice, and I â€" Great King â€" am your answer.â€

The End