Mythology AU: Part 1.14
Sorry about the delay in posting :( and sorry about the mistakes, this hasn't been proofread... I'll fix that later.
Khonts breathes heavily: either because of fear in her current predicament or because of disgust at being touched. Whichever is the reason, her expressions turn deadly cold as she tries to pick out the details in the dark.
Two: a large centaur’s shadow looms at the flaps of the tent, torchlight from the outside throwing an ominous light over the stern feminine features, and someone or something in the corner, barely shifting around, easily gone unnoticed by untrained eyes.
There are whispers outside, muffled and troubled ones. Then a larger shadow - a male - appears at the entrance, exchanging hushed words with the female captor. Their hushed tones quickly escalate into a worried conversation and bits escape. “Nise”, “Khonts”, “death”, “kill”. That much is enough to make Khonts tug harder at the bonds around her wrists and ankles, but her silent struggle remains futile.
The larger shadow leaves abruptly, trotting away. The female stands still for awhile - till the last sounds of hoof against dirt die out - before turning around to face her prisoner. The duende ceases fighting against the thick ropes and eyes the centaur. In the dark, only her ominous black shape could be discerned. She comes forward, towards her, till her shadowlike body stands looming over the duende.
Khonts swallows, awaiting whatever will happen.
“You are Nise’s friend…” the female centaur’s voice is low, but her words are strangely flat to the point that one couldn’t tell whether it is a question or a statement. The duende nods slightly either ways, the gag making the action unnecessarily strained.
Hoof beat could be heard outside again, a couple of centaurs by the sound of it. The female captor quickly clasps her hands over the duende’s already silenced mouth to muffle any remaining sounds. Her eyes grew wide, ablaze with something familiar for the shuddering duende. Something deeply hidden within folds of her memory, willed away for as long as possible.
Then a dawning understanding comes to Khonts.
The sounds quickly fade and she finally releases the smaller creature. “Listen to me, Khonts the Duende, friend of my daughter.” There is a distinctive tremble in her voice. “If you truly value her friendship, I beg you, save her from the growing madness here!” She grips her own mouth - too loud. Turning towards the entrance, they both pried their ears to catch any noise. Nothing. She eases her shoulders and turns back to the duende.
“Listen,” her voice again a hushed tone, “there is a revered centaur in the far eastern forests of the Southern Lands. She is known as Grandam Ina. If you have a tiny bit of sympathy, just a morsel, take Nise to her. No one will dare harm her under the care of Grandam Ina…” There was a hint of something in her eyes, as if she herself is unsure of her own statement.
The questioning look in the duende’s eyes doesn’t go unheeded, and the female centaur, Nise’s mother, sighs before glancing towards the entrance. Fortunately, still nothing.
“Please do not hold grudge over our people… It is the grief. The grief of so much loss in so little time… Have you ever had children, Khonts the Duende? As a mother, I know this feeling. I thought my little daughter dead and her body lost for…” Tears trickle down her cheeks and Khonts couldn’t fail to notice the resemblance between mother and daughter. She takes a deep breath and her voice returns. “It doesn’t matter. The centaurs are struck with a rage, the madness for revenge. They demand blood of any and all that are involved in their woe. The child you brought back, they want him dead.”
Khonts swallows hard and notices the centaur throw a quick glance towards the slightly shifting shadow in the other corner.
“And since you two brought him here, they…they…” She falters again and Khonts knew the reason.
“Khonts the Duende… will you take her to safety?” She turns back sharply, there is something ablaze in her eyes again, but this time it is something calmer and more determined. The duende nods. “Then so it will be, I couldn’t protect her from what the fates have written for her. I will make haste with this story, but this is vital, you must, I implore you, you must pass this on to Grandam Ina. So I beg you, listen carefully, for time is short… Shorter than ever…”
Khonts peers deep into the centaur’s eyes. The fire within those eyes will haunt her walking days for many a day before she will finally recall where she saw similar ones before.
“After I gave birth to Nise but a day, a Wandering Spirit drifted to this place. No one knew her name, nor where she hailed from, or whence she travelled to. Grandam Ina was here then, passing by, and confronted the Spirit with her magic and wisdom. The Spirit just smiled at her and revealed a tale of the old, of the past, of something only Grandam Ina seemed to be aware of. They said that after revealing a foreboding tale, she disappeared and never returned. I didn’t see what happened with my own eyes, nor did I hear much about the tale, but I know it was about the Shield. Do you know the tale about the Shield of Protection?”
Khonts shakes her head.
“Few do, even less know the details… when you reach Grandam Ina’s place, tell her. Tell her this: after that day, I found a piece of something- thick as a thinned leather, but smooth as a leaf - next to my sleeping Nise. There was a chained Shield upon it, the sign of the Sacred Shield. The others in the tribe knew of this, believed that she would protect everyone as long as she is around with powers beyond our understanding. We never told Grandam Ina, for fearing she would take my Nise far from us… It was said that if she never used a weapon all her life, this blessing - no, this curse - would never reach out to her.” Khonts could almost see the ghostly imagine of Nise’s secretly borrowed bow and arrows in the corner of her cave. The ones she practiced with, being forbidden to ever touch these in her own home. “But all this was proved wrong: they want her dead for it… They believe she was at fault for leaving the Nurturing Grounds to help a human child… They…” The centaur starts to shake violently, more of anger, of despair than of fear. Khonts could feel a wry smile spread upon her lips.
“Up the river Lagos: go east till you reach Fala, then go upstream till you reach the point where the mighty Lagos branches to Mela and Fala… Continue upstream all the way till you reach the darker woods of Ern. Follow the river, always, never stray… You will find Grandam Ina without trouble…”
With that, Nise’s mother lit a torch, shedding light onto Enni in the corner, muffled and tied up. With swift movements she unbound Khonts and left without glancing back.
In the middle of the tent there lay her stuff: the things she brought with herself for the journey, and more…
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Khonts breathes heavily: either because of fear in her current predicament or because of disgust at being touched. Whichever is the reason, her expressions turn deadly cold as she tries to pick out the details in the dark.
Two: a large centaur’s shadow looms at the flaps of the tent, torchlight from the outside throwing an ominous light over the stern feminine features, and someone or something in the corner, barely shifting around, easily gone unnoticed by untrained eyes.
There are whispers outside, muffled and troubled ones. Then a larger shadow - a male - appears at the entrance, exchanging hushed words with the female captor. Their hushed tones quickly escalate into a worried conversation and bits escape. “Nise”, “Khonts”, “death”, “kill”. That much is enough to make Khonts tug harder at the bonds around her wrists and ankles, but her silent struggle remains futile.
The larger shadow leaves abruptly, trotting away. The female stands still for awhile - till the last sounds of hoof against dirt die out - before turning around to face her prisoner. The duende ceases fighting against the thick ropes and eyes the centaur. In the dark, only her ominous black shape could be discerned. She comes forward, towards her, till her shadowlike body stands looming over the duende.
Khonts swallows, awaiting whatever will happen.
“You are Nise’s friend…” the female centaur’s voice is low, but her words are strangely flat to the point that one couldn’t tell whether it is a question or a statement. The duende nods slightly either ways, the gag making the action unnecessarily strained.
Hoof beat could be heard outside again, a couple of centaurs by the sound of it. The female captor quickly clasps her hands over the duende’s already silenced mouth to muffle any remaining sounds. Her eyes grew wide, ablaze with something familiar for the shuddering duende. Something deeply hidden within folds of her memory, willed away for as long as possible.
Then a dawning understanding comes to Khonts.
The sounds quickly fade and she finally releases the smaller creature. “Listen to me, Khonts the Duende, friend of my daughter.” There is a distinctive tremble in her voice. “If you truly value her friendship, I beg you, save her from the growing madness here!” She grips her own mouth - too loud. Turning towards the entrance, they both pried their ears to catch any noise. Nothing. She eases her shoulders and turns back to the duende.
“Listen,” her voice again a hushed tone, “there is a revered centaur in the far eastern forests of the Southern Lands. She is known as Grandam Ina. If you have a tiny bit of sympathy, just a morsel, take Nise to her. No one will dare harm her under the care of Grandam Ina…” There was a hint of something in her eyes, as if she herself is unsure of her own statement.
The questioning look in the duende’s eyes doesn’t go unheeded, and the female centaur, Nise’s mother, sighs before glancing towards the entrance. Fortunately, still nothing.
“Please do not hold grudge over our people… It is the grief. The grief of so much loss in so little time… Have you ever had children, Khonts the Duende? As a mother, I know this feeling. I thought my little daughter dead and her body lost for…” Tears trickle down her cheeks and Khonts couldn’t fail to notice the resemblance between mother and daughter. She takes a deep breath and her voice returns. “It doesn’t matter. The centaurs are struck with a rage, the madness for revenge. They demand blood of any and all that are involved in their woe. The child you brought back, they want him dead.”
Khonts swallows hard and notices the centaur throw a quick glance towards the slightly shifting shadow in the other corner.
“And since you two brought him here, they…they…” She falters again and Khonts knew the reason.
“Khonts the Duende… will you take her to safety?” She turns back sharply, there is something ablaze in her eyes again, but this time it is something calmer and more determined. The duende nods. “Then so it will be, I couldn’t protect her from what the fates have written for her. I will make haste with this story, but this is vital, you must, I implore you, you must pass this on to Grandam Ina. So I beg you, listen carefully, for time is short… Shorter than ever…”
Khonts peers deep into the centaur’s eyes. The fire within those eyes will haunt her walking days for many a day before she will finally recall where she saw similar ones before.
“After I gave birth to Nise but a day, a Wandering Spirit drifted to this place. No one knew her name, nor where she hailed from, or whence she travelled to. Grandam Ina was here then, passing by, and confronted the Spirit with her magic and wisdom. The Spirit just smiled at her and revealed a tale of the old, of the past, of something only Grandam Ina seemed to be aware of. They said that after revealing a foreboding tale, she disappeared and never returned. I didn’t see what happened with my own eyes, nor did I hear much about the tale, but I know it was about the Shield. Do you know the tale about the Shield of Protection?”
Khonts shakes her head.
“Few do, even less know the details… when you reach Grandam Ina’s place, tell her. Tell her this: after that day, I found a piece of something- thick as a thinned leather, but smooth as a leaf - next to my sleeping Nise. There was a chained Shield upon it, the sign of the Sacred Shield. The others in the tribe knew of this, believed that she would protect everyone as long as she is around with powers beyond our understanding. We never told Grandam Ina, for fearing she would take my Nise far from us… It was said that if she never used a weapon all her life, this blessing - no, this curse - would never reach out to her.” Khonts could almost see the ghostly imagine of Nise’s secretly borrowed bow and arrows in the corner of her cave. The ones she practiced with, being forbidden to ever touch these in her own home. “But all this was proved wrong: they want her dead for it… They believe she was at fault for leaving the Nurturing Grounds to help a human child… They…” The centaur starts to shake violently, more of anger, of despair than of fear. Khonts could feel a wry smile spread upon her lips.
“Up the river Lagos: go east till you reach Fala, then go upstream till you reach the point where the mighty Lagos branches to Mela and Fala… Continue upstream all the way till you reach the darker woods of Ern. Follow the river, always, never stray… You will find Grandam Ina without trouble…”
With that, Nise’s mother lit a torch, shedding light onto Enni in the corner, muffled and tied up. With swift movements she unbound Khonts and left without glancing back.
In the middle of the tent there lay her stuff: the things she brought with herself for the journey, and more…
Back Continue