The Forthtelling (Caveman Chronicles)

The Index -|-

Two moon-cycles passed quickly as Thoka and Kpleeb dug into Uuiit’s technology. At first, Jial had pressured Thoka to have Kora watch over Zara while they worked, but Thoka wanted Zara to learn. It seemed obvious to her that Zara could be of some help with a little training. Thoka also intended to work with Kpleeb and the invisible forces.

Thoka began to methodically teach Zara and Kpleeb everything she knew. Kpleeb could not feel or see the forces, but Zara could see them in what Thoka thought must be multiple wavelengths of energy. Zara’s descriptions were limited by her language at first, but her vocabulary and ability to describe detail and nuance grew quickly. As a result, Thoka was able to understand the flows better. Zara was a genuine help.

Kpleeb did not fare as well. He struggled to understand what he could not interact with, and so Thoka made for him a pair of gloves that translated the flow of the invisible forces into vibrations that he would feel through his hands. With only the gloves, Kpleeb was able to detect the forces, but he would never obtain the same sense of connection and ability to manipulate as Thoka and Zara. To his credit, Kpleeb did not complain. He tried the gloves and listened to Thoka’s instruction.

“We have improved seers here,” said Thoka, pointing. “Also, your darts, moccasins, and stone thrower.”

Kpleeb nodded as he looked up from the project he was working on. “We need many more of these for all the Ganix warriors.” He leaned back and stretched. “I am surprised that no motion has been detected at Uuiit’s angle.”

“Maybe the new seers will give us more.” Thoka was surprised as well. Her sensors had detected nothing. She knew they worked because she had tested them and tuned them to ignore the small movements of birds and leaves fluttering in a breeze.

“Have we ever seen the angle in the sky? Maybe it is simply forgotten or unused.” Kpleeb placed the thin, semi-circular ring aside and stood.

“Maybe,” Thoka said doubtfully. “I saw it fly in my dream, then we found it. Perhaps it is used only rarely.”

“How can you dream about true things you don’t know, anyway? Did it happen because you dreamed it or did you dream it because it happened?” Kpleeb grinned.

Thoka shook her head. “I have no idea, nor do I have the time to be concerned about it. It is interesting like the Xinti prophesy, but at lest the prophesy gives us some clues.”

“If we assume it’s not just made up!” Kpleeb shrugged.

“We must take it for what it is, a myth. But, a myth that may have some root in reality. Even if it appears to be inexplicable.” Thoka looked at Kpleeb. “It changes nothing. Our future does not depend on some ancient writing. We are here for our children and our future. No other tribe can do what we can do.”

“Okay. I will get Xit to drop the new seers off at the angle in a few days.” Kpleeb did not look happy. “We are the smartest cavepeople around, and we are slaving over these devices. How can we make enough for all of the warriors?”

“I have some ideas about that, but for now, we must do the work ourselves. Zara is a big help!” Thoka patted Zara’s head.

Zara looked up from where she sat cross-legged on the floor. “Mama, I’m done” She held one of the moccasins.”

“Thank you, Zara. Good job!” Thoka picked up the moccasin and looked at it through her eyepiece. “This is great work.” She looked at Kpleeb. “We need to give Zara all of the moccasins.”

Kpleeb nodded, but then scrambled to his feet as he heard shouting outside. When he reached the door, he saw one of the older children from Kilow’s village running toward the village center. The cavegirl’s torso was covered in blood and dirt.

“What happened?” said Kpleeb as he approached the child. Xit and a number of other warriors appeared almost immediately to surround them.

“Xinti!” said the child breathlessly. “Many.”

Thoka approached and spoke to the child. “Is Chief Kilow okay?”

The cavegirl shook her head wordlessly and began to sob.

“Ganix warriors!” Kpleeb shouted. “Time to fight!” He looked around the village and felt pleased that the wall had been completed, but the gates, they would come in time.

In short order, the warriors had gathered. There were dozens of them with spears and painted faces. Kpleeb nodded to Thoka. He knew what to do. “We will be back.”

Kpleeb trotted out of the main gate followed by the Ganix warriors. They angled toward the pillar of smoke in the distance. It was only due to practice and the moccasins that Kpleeb could even begin to keep up with the pale warriors. The group darted through the trees and brush at what would be a flat out run for most people. Where Kpleeb ran with all his might, the warriors bounded off of boulders and fallen trees. An hour passed and a little more before the group crested the final rise.

Kpleeb paused to take deep,heaving breaths and saw that Kilow’s village lay burning across the river. Smoke billowed from the hut roofs. None were spared. The dead lay haphazardly in pools of blood, and there were cries of anger from the far side of the village. There, Kpleeb saw Molk swinging a large club in a frenzied defense against a handful of Xinti warriors.

Kpleeb took a deep breath and ran again. Xit and the other Ganix warriors were further ahead now and already entering the village center. When he reached the village, he saw the pole in the center and was reminded of how Molk had beat him there. It seemed like long ago, and the sting of the memory had faded. He jogged to where the noise of battle clamored under the trees beyond the huts.

The Ganix had bolted into the fray and blended right in with the Xinti warriors. If not for the yellow armband that Thoka had made them wear, no one could have known who was on which side. A white-faced Xinti spotted Kpleeb and leapt toward him with teeth bared. Kpleeb pressed the trigger in his right palm with his thumb and swatted. The warrior was violently flung aside and crashed into the trunk of a nearby tree. Kpleeb’s wrist tingled with the impact of the invisible forces. He grinned savagely and stepped forward to kick at the fallen warrior.

In a split second the warrior he had flung swept his legs around and Kpleeb felt himself falling. He fell hard and gasped for breath. The only thing that saved him was his upraised left arm. Still, a terrible pain struck him like lightning as the knife entered his forearm.

“Aooow!” Kpleeb yelled. The eyes of the warrior stared down at him coldly, but the face remained absolutely rigid. Kpleeb gritted his teeth and struck with his right hand. The knife dislodged from Kpleeb’s arm and remained in the pale warrior’s hand as the body was tossed aside. Kpleeb did not wait for a second attack. He jumped up and bashed the warrior repeatedly against the ground where he had fallen. In just a few seconds, the warrior stopped moving, and Kpleeb could see blood seeping into the dried fronds that covered the ground.

Though warriors were drawn away from Molk, the battle raged and the Ganix were outnumbered by the ferocious Xinti. More of them seemed to appear every moment. The reach of Kpleeb’s fist was about four or five paces, and he could not strike anything closer. As a result, he hung back and batted at any Xinti target that offered itself. After a few moments, he had drawn too much attention to himself. A dozen Xinti warriors appeared from the edge of a nearby hut. They were on Kpleeb quickly, and though he crushed a few, they overran his defenses without fear and pierced his legs, arms, and torso with many shallow wounds.

Darkness overtook him as he heard an echoing bellow of pain from Molk. Kpleeb fell, bleeding profusely.

Promising to subdue, demanding servitude, the master comes.
Ashen face, blue of eye, the master rescues
and grateful Xinti follow.
Relentless, their deadly hands prosper.
Blooded lands and burned terrain in their midst.
Xinti warriors together protect those who serve.
Joyful small ones await her return.
From the mouth she comes,
with child and with vengeance.
Pale and terrible, she will gut the Xinti.
Her beloved will serve penance,
that day a terror among them.
Ruin from above brings eternal affection.
Those who perish survive. The forsakers expire.
The fearful master replies and brother comes with wrath.
Conflicts arise. Fires burn the heavens.
A mortal wound is struck. The seed is stolen.
The builder’s revenge echoes.
Foundations of the empire crumble.

Xinti Forthtelling

A Trek (Caveman Chronicles)

The Index -|-

After much discussion, Kpleeb and Thoka agreed that Uuiit was something different, not a caveman. Thoka decided to assign an around the clock watch of Uuiit’s village. It was entirely possible that could be very, very dangerous, and it was imperative that they knew when he was present at the Xinti village. Of course, practically speaking, it was not as simple as it seemed. In the dark there could be no way to watch, and Thoka was concerned about how Uuiit had apparently taken notice of Kpleeb before. She felt certain that somehow Uuiit had used his device to detect the invisible forces that Kpleeb had been using to magnify his view.

When Kpleeb returned from searching the far side of Uuiit’s village, he described something that made no sense to Thoka. A large angular device of unknown color resting on a single, bottom-most point. They had talked through it over and over, and finally, Thoka had decided that she needed to see it for herself. She had taken a couple of days to design and build some new devices that she thought would be useful for experiencing a genuinely new thing. Sensors she called them.

Now they were close to the angle’s area and traveling slowly. Thoka had created a small-ish, floating enclosure for Zara, and had decided to walk on her own two feet. The Ganix warriors had been surprised. They expected her to ride like a queen, but she was tired of being coddled and felt as if she needed the exercise.

Thoka sighed. She would never admit it, but she silently acknowledged that it would be nice to sit and ride for a while.

Xit pointed to their right and grunted softly.

Thoka nodded and moved forward carefully. Zara’s carriage hovered a few paces behind her. With a second thought, she paused and turned back toward Zara with her finger on her lips. “Time to be quiet, okay, Zara? We need to be sneaky.”

Zara put her tiny, chubby finger up to her lips to pantomime what Thoka had done. “Sneaky,” she said in a whisper.

The group moved forward until Xit held up his hand and pointed. Several Ganix warriors slipped into the clearing, and returned after a moment. “Nobody, Pale One.”

“Good,” Thoka said. She stepped into the clearing. The angle was just what Kpleeb had described, down to the dimensions. He had apparently been quite accurate, and she confirmed each specific thing he stated.

Kpleeb put his hand on the angle’s side. “Just like I said, huh?” What do you think about it?”

“I wouldn’t touch it until we know what it does,” Thoka said with a small smile.

“Urh, yeah right.” Kpleeb quickly took his hand away. “It feels fairly normal though. Just like stone, but very smooth.”

Thoka tapped into her plethora of sensors. “Did anything feel strange?” She began to slowly scan the area that he had touched. To her enhanced eye, it appeared that he had left a hand-smudge on it, but the smudge did not exist to her naked eye.

“Nothing.” Kpleeb looked suspiciously at the edge where the top angle met the bottom. “This looks fuzzy here, but it should be sharp, at least logically.” He made an angled point with his hands.

Thoka stood up and slowly moved a bank of hand-sensors near the edge. “it is a sharp angle.” She squinted. “It doesn’t look sharp though. I would not touch that part until we know for sure that it won’t harm you.”

“What do you think it does?” Kpleeb walked to the furthest point and looked down the edge.

“I don’t know. Let me obtain my scans.” Thoka turned and walked to the strange vertically angled side with the bumps. After a few moments, she called out. “Kpleeb, come here.”

“Yes?” He came jogging around the corner of the angle followed closely by Xit.

“This is the flying angle that I dreamed of.”

“How can you be sure?

Thoka pointed at the bumps on the longer portion of the indention. “The forces flow here in a similar way they flow there.” She pointed at Zara’s carriage. “It’s what makes it move and float on the air. The structure appears to be different though. It’s new to me, but the pattern is the same.”

“Wow,” Kpleeb muttered. Then louder. “So it moves into the sky.”

“And higher, I think,” said Thoka.

Xit looked up into the sky. “Higher?”

Thoka nodded. “There is more out there than you may suspect.”

Kpleeb smiled at her. They had discussed the structure of their land and had done some minor sleuthing on the subject weeks ago. “We have to assume that this may be a carriage for Uuiit.”

“He… It go above sky?” Xit looked a bit concerned even for a deadpan Ganix.

“You said you saw the angle before, right Xit? Where was that?”

Xit lifted his chin and pointed at his feet. “Here.”

Kpleeb looked fairly disappointed. “I assumed you had seen it fly.”

“No,” said Xit.

Thoka looked at Kpleeb. “It’s time we gain some more knowledge. I will spend time analyzing this device.”

“What if Uuiit comes?” Kpleeb held up his hands. “He may have some great weapons, right Xit? You must have seen him fight?”

“Never fight,” said Xit.

“Well that would make sense if he has the Xinti to fight for him. Anyone who fought him would have done it before the Xinti came to him.” Kpleeb turned to Thoka. “Is Uuiit’s device more advanced than what you have seen?”

Thoka nodded. “Yes. Certainly, but I will obtain its secrets.”

“If that is the case, we have to assume he is strong in all areas. If he comes here while we are here, he may kill us.”

“Xit,” Thoka said.” I need some time to build a few devices. We need lookouts to ensure that we are undetected while I work.” There was a silent flurry of activity while Thoka brought out a portable workbench, Ganix warriors encircled the clearing at a distance and Zara was fed. In a few hours, Thoka was finally ready to leave. It was only shortly past mid-day.

Thoka put out the sensor devices that she had created and attached them to various trees around the clearing. “These detect motion, which inform these other devices. The other ones will send the impression of its viewing area to one of my devices.”

“Even back at our village?”

“Yes. We cannot be nearby when Uuiit comes. Let’s go back home.”

Kpleeb, Thoka, Zara and the handful of Ganix warriors collected their belongings, covered any signs that they had been there, and began the long trek back to the village.

“I want to capture Uuiit,” said Thoka after a few moments.

Kpleeb looked concerned. “How? We don’t know yet how dangerous he can be.”

“I know. Based on the devices he has, he must be very powerful.” In Thoka’s mind, she pictured a being of almost unlimited power and knowledge. But then she thought that he must be one of many. No entity existed in a vacuum. They were born or created from a parent or some higher being. They had a culture passed to them from another.

[Where are the rest of the Uuiits? Is that a name or, a title? What is his name?]

“Xit, have you seen another person like Uuiit? Or have you heard a tale of another like it?”

Xit remained silent for a long moment. “I no see. Prophesy say Uuiit has brother.”

“A brother,” Thoka looked at Kpleeb. “Maybe it’s time we heard this prophesy.”

Kpleeb nodded and walked onward in silence.

Thoka fell into thought.

[If there is a brother or some family, as there is likely to be… it- they must be distant since no Xinti has seen them. Or maybe they are secretive and hide well. Anything is possible, almost. If we harm Uuiit, the other will know and come to its rescue. We are not yet strong enough to defend ourselves against a strong warrior that uses the invisible forces.]

[I must be able to defend, and attack, to protect our family.]

Thoka resolved to build her knowledge using Uuiit’s devices. She looked at Zara floating along next to her and smiled. Zara was incredibly smart for such a young age, and Thoka knew that she could be a key part of her plans.

In her floating carriage, Zara’s legs kicked randomly. She held her hands up and counted her fingers. “100, 110, 120, 130…”

The Ganix warriors padded along at the edges of the group. They were silent and watchful. [The strange warriors do not appear to know anything about Uuiit except that he rules the Xinti and is mentioned in the prophesy. Why aren’t they more curious?] Thoka sighed. There was so much to do and quite a few gaps in her understanding of the situation.

It’s Definitely Not Christmas

Read Part 1 first.

Llarp’s steely talons flexed menacingly as he gazed through the portal. A low growl emanated from the depths of his second throat, near the base of his powerful neck. Not often was the commander able to discover a portal with such a vantage point as this. From the lip of the stone door, Llarp could see a wide expanse below him. There on the plain, two of the lumbering portal beasts brayed and murmured between themselves. In the far distance red and white lightning shimmered.

With the exception of the colored lightning, Llarp had laid his buggy eyes on scenes like this before and had conducted effective raids through the stone door. Each raid resulted with his name being shouted from the shed-tops and his wooly fame being greatly magnified. With the exception of Lloot, Llarp was the premier commander in the whole kingdom, mostly because be always brought in the most spoils. He hear a light talon click behind him.

“Yes, Llorn?” His head swiveled slightly to see the long neck of his first underling bowed in an appropriate measure of subservience.

“The team is assembled, High Commander.” Llorn bobbed his head twice and kept his eyes downcast. The gun-belt that crossed his wooly back drooped with its heavy load.

Llarp looked sharply at his first underling with disgust. Llorn’s teeth were straight and full. His lips were even, and he had no caked mud around his snout. The fluffy scarf he wore, the badge of a door warden, was perfectly clean, white and red. Llorn was a disgrace to real llama soldiery. But… he did serve as door warden, which required the prettiest llama around. Llarp shuddered and looked away with a sneer.

“We break through in five,” Llarp said gruffly. [These portal beasts won’t know what clopped all over them!] As he grinned, his filthy lips curled back to reveal crookedly sharp teeth.

The team began to line up behind him. These six were the best of the best. The uber-elite. Each one was festooned with rocketry, bullet-belts, and curved blades, and their combat weapons were attached onto their wooly chests with various belts and rigs. Llurk, the big one, had a mounted, multi-barrel swivel-cannon surgically mounted to his stout back. He admitted that it made sleeping difficult, so he slept standing as any reasonable warrior would do under such circumstances.

[Llurk is a total badass,] thought Llarp. He would never say that out loud, as it was not the kind of statement that the commander should make in front of the soldiery. Nevertheless, he was happy to have such a warrior on his team. There was also Llawn, Llipp, Llary, Llulz, and Kim. They were each quite capable with weaponry and the putting down of evil infidels and other portal beasts of the two and four-legged variety.

The rim of the stone door flashed green, and Llarp growled at his team. “Time to go. Remember, get the hay first, and then we plunder the big stash.” He pointed at the circular trough located on a high butte that was full of various greenery. One of the portal beasts had arranged the greenery there, perhaps in preparation for its own feeding.

Llarp was the first through. His form solidifying on the other side of the portal in an instant. With a fierce and thundering battle-cry, he leapt onto the plain below. He stared up at the giant legs of the portal beasts as they turned toward his landing spot. The ground below him shook with earthquake fury as his team landed behind him, each of them no doubt frothing at the lips with intense zeal and berserker energy.

It was time to OWN this world and it’s dumb (but giant) beastly inhabitants.

“Get ’em!” yelled Llarp.

###

“Just about time for dinner. Wash your hands!” Irene peeked around the corner of the kitchen and winked at me. “The salad is out if you want to start assembling.”

“Let’s go Emma.” I patted her head encouragingly. Just then, I heard an odd squeal that was fairly high pitched and a bit ear-splitting. I turned, and saw what appeared to be a half-dozen llama mini-figures sailing through the air. They landed with surprising ease on the floor in front of me and stuck as if they had velcro on their feet.

“Hmmm,” I said. “What the?…!”

The llama in front squealed again in a semi-cute way and raised his hairy front legs toward me. I chuckled inwardly for a brief moment before my leg began to sting. Reaching, I brushed my hand down the side of my leg and felt a horde of thin spines fall away. The sting disappeared with them.

“Ow,” I said looking again at the tiny llama. It was similar to the llama from the calendar, the one with the red and white scarf. This one seemed to be holding a tiny rifle.

With another piercing shriek, the llama unleashed a torrent of minuscule projectiles in my general direction a second time. His fellow warriors began to move aggressively forward with ferocious and barely audible clicketty-clops, and the first llama stepped with them. Tinny, thin voices rose up in a chorus of grumbles and curses. In return, I did the first thing I could think of. I lifted my shoe.

And crushed.

Then I picked up my glass of wine and took a final swig to finish the glass. Without picking up my foot, I nodded to Emma. “Go wash up, sweetie.”

Emma, having failed to notice the entire llama situation, pattered off quickly.

I sighed and followed slowly, promising to myself that I would clean up after dinner.

“Merry Christmas, Emma!”

“It’s definitely not Christmas daddy.”

It’s Not Christmas

The window pane was chilly, but not frosty. It does not often freeze in Louisiana. Outside, nature shed the remaining brown tree leaves with gusts of violent wind. Spanish moss swayed at its precarious, dangling heights as if the trees were gray haired dancing girls. Light rain spattered against the glass where the drops clung together like lost siblings and streamed downward to rejoin their family on the ground.

It was dusk.

The timer issued a subdued [click] and our Christmas lights came on. Strings of red and white twinkled gently and moved following the motions encoded inside the tiny controller box. The mood in the living room changed subtly with the glow.

Emma hop-skipped and dropped her hands from above her head as she always did when they came on. She had waited for the precise moment indicated by the clock.

5:03 PM.

The timer was imprecise, but when I had pointed out the corresponding time on the stove clock and told her what to look for, she began waiting each day with her hands raised as she mimicked a symphony conductor using a preparatory gesture to ready her musicians.

I might be biased, but that is pretty smart for a four-year-old.

“Tomorrow is Christmas, Emma,” I said. “Aren’t you excited?”

Her brown hair swirled in the glowing light as she shook her head. “It’s not Christmas.”

“I told you it was coming. We even counted down! It’s tomorrow, Emma!”

The slightest frown crept into her little face and her jaw set. “It’s not Christmas, daddy.”

“Okay, why not?” I reached over and grabbed the big calendar with the fuzzy donkey pictures and pointed. “This is today. It’s the 24th. Tomorrow is the 25th, which is when Christmas happens every year.”

She peered quizzically at the grid of numbers. “It’s not Christmas without snow.”

It was then I noticed that there, on the 25th, was a Christmas sticker. With snow. To be fair, it also featured a llama wearing a red and white scarf. Even if it had been snowy outside, I thought that the llama was just another reason why it could not be Christmas using her logic. [No llama, no Christmas?]

“Sweetheart, Christmas comes on the same calendar day regardless of snow.”

“It snowed last year though!”

“‘Hmm. You remember that?” I could see that she was trying to understand the nuances of date grids, scarf wielding llamas, and a specific type of frozen precipitation.

She nodded vigorously.

“Mmm,” I said. My mind was a tornado of possible explanations, rationales, and stories I could invent.

[Maybe this is the time to use that gnome idea I had.]

Instead, I sighed and settled on something simple, and less fun. I put the calendar back on the wall and pulled my small globe from the top shelf near the desk and pointed at its surface.

“Remember, we moved, right? We used to live here, and now we’re down here. It may not seem like much, maybe just an inch…but we moved from the north to the south.” I pointed at the top of the globe. “See how it’s white up here at the north pole?”

She nodded, staring at the painted-on icebergs.

“The closer to the bottom or top we live, the more likely it is to snow at Christmas. Since we moved from Vermont to Louisiana, we probably won’t get any snowy Christmases.”

Emma frowned deeply. “Never?!”

I shrugged. “Probably, not. It’s just too warm here!”

Emma hugged herself and rubbed her arms. “I’m chilly. Why can’t it snow?”

“Uh, well. Even though it gets cold-ER than it was in the summer time, it still doesn’t get to freezing very often at all. Plus, the humidity in the air…” I shrugged again and let the explanation go.

“What’s hu-mid-erty?”

“Hu-mid-Ity. Never mind about that.” I peeked my head into the kitchen hoping for some distraction. “Hey, when’s dinner?”

“It’s only 5:06 PM, not for another hour or so.”

I sighed audibly.

“Daddy, are you mad?”

“Wha?! No baby.” I cringed a bunch inside (and a little outside) knowing that she was so observant. “I’m just trying to figure out how to explain.” Then- [Genius idea.]

“Wait!”

I searched for a video of a snow storm on my phone and cast it to the living-room’s big screen. “Here, sit on the couch, Emma.” I ran to the garage and brought back the portable air conditioner that I used for the shop. I plugged it in and positioned the outlet tube a few feet in front of Emma’s face.

She rubbed her arms again. “I really am chilly now.”

“It feels like Christmas, doesn’t it?” I grinned at her.

“Well, I guess.”

I beckoned around the corner, and Irene came to see.

“Ha. This is not gonna work out,” she said with a chuckle.

“It’s cheaper than a snow machine.”

Irene rolled her eyes and went back to rolling out gingerbread for cookies.

[I did it. I glossed over the hard questions, didn’t have to explain complex weather patterns, regional climates, or spend forty-five minutes on answering endless “whys.”] Inside, I conducted a big mental high-five from one hand to the other.

“Momma, when is dinner?” said Emma. “I’m cold.”

Read Part 2: It’s Definitely Not Christmas