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interminatis-paradoxum · 8 years ago

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The Talisman

Prologue

The sun hung low over the horizon with stripes of purple and orange reflecting off her golden chest. The coarse sand beneath her burned as she walked and a quick breeze picked up soothing her fur and calming the waves of heat radiating from the ground. "Rain is coming" she thought. She could taste it in the air, she could feel it in the trees.

She slowed her pace and counted down deliberately. When she reached zero a single droplet of water hit her muzzle, and so, she willed herself to transform. Her fur coat started losing volume, its deep dark colour slowly giving way to a warm chocolate tone. As her body became human, her fur became skin, faded leopard spots remaining imprinted on her torso.

Standing on her legs she turned her face upwards and closed her eyes. In her mind, nothing could compare to the feeling of warm rain on human skin.

The last rays of sunshine caught the intricate carvings of the gold talisman hanging securely form her neck. Bringing her hand to it, she caressed it, murmuring words of gratitude.

Revelling the sensations a moment longer, she sighed and let her hand drop from her chest continuing her way, the small fires ahead beckoning her back home.

Soon she approached the tribal gates and, as she crossed them, a small cub launched itself at her, purring happily as she picked it up and stroked under its chin.

Smiling down at the caramel coloured cub she resumed her walking, greeting other tribe members as she passed.

Upon reaching the big bonfire at the centre of the village a small boy came rushing towards her, arms flailing about. “Nosizwe! What took you so long?” The boy inquired excitedly. Nosizwe looked down at the boy and smiled. “Looks like someone took too big a nap today!”

Tugging on her colourfully beaded skirt the boy started dragging her towards a hut, with a hanging green rug over the entryway, bouncing as he spoke. “Umama said we need to be rested for Sipho’s awakening tomorrow.”

At the mention of his name, the small cub wiggled contentedly in Nosizwe’s arms, who looked down at the sudden movement. “That, it is” she simply replied, leading both children to the makeshift pillows surrounding the bonfire.

There they all sat and ate, children and cubs never leaving the watchful eye of their parents and protectors.

When the moon reached its highest peak silence fell over the village as the Great Sage – a white bearded man with kind eyes and a tall figure – rose languidly. Spreading both arms and rising his palms up to the ever-present Gods of Creation he spoke with closed eyes and a deep soothing voice. “Tomorrow, the Great Ones will feast with us. Tomorrow, one of our children will become one with the Gods and expand his spirit and his mind.” The Great Sage opened his eyes and moved next to Sipho, kneeling before him. “My child,” He placed his hand atop the cub’s head. “Rest now, for tomorrow you shall rise above all creatures.” The cub eyed him with a mixture of curiosity and terror. “Fear not Sipho. I foresee a great future ahead.” He paused briefly. “Not without its tribulations, as life is never so kind. But a great future nonetheless.” The Great Sage kissed the cub’s head and retired to his hut, just as the rest of the tribe followed in his footsteps – kissing Sipho and returning to their homes.

That night Sipho lay nestled against Nosizwe as she lulled him to sleep with words of comfort and pride. “A great future.” She murmured against his fur. “A brilliant future for my baby brother.” And so, she too was lulled to sleep, with the scent of wet earth filling her nostrils, and never knowing that tomorrow would be the most harsh and painful turning point in her life.

Tomorrow came, the sun rising as it always did, the warm breeze curling through the leaves as it always did this time of year, the small river still running on towards the sea, as again, it always did. The intense heat was already rising off the ground despite the early hour.

Nosizwe disentangled her brother’s sleeping form from her embrace and silently made her way across the village. She looked up at the sky, the sun shining brightly and no clouds in sight. “Perfect weather for a celebration” she thought.

Once outside the gates she turned to face the sun and started on her path surrounding the village, as her duty as Keeper of the Plains demanded of her.

Having reached the large forest knobwood tree, three miles east from her starting point at the village’s gates, Nosizwe left her human form. This tree’s hornlike spiked trunk marking the distance of transformation safe, as so to keep the tribe’s secret.

Proceeding now on four legs she walked calmly yet always aware of her surroundings. As noon came, she took a slight detour to drink from the small stream nearby and perhaps rest awhile. Nearing her muzzle to the water surface, a burst of yellow caught her periphery. A bright piece of amber lay among the rocks and sticks on the river bank. Nosizwe smiled to herself “Sipho will love this” and with her sharp teeth picked up the small gemstone.

Returning to her usual route she walked on languidly only to stop abruptly at the sight to her left. A few feet behind a fallen trunk stood wat appeared to be the remains of a fresh campsite. Frantically eyeing her surroundings and noting nothing else out of the ordinary Nosizwe decided to approach the site for a better assessment of the situation. The coals on the campfire were singed but completely dry which meant they’d been used to start a fire after the rain had stopped. She knew there were other tribes about, but Nosizwe also knew none dared to camp outside the safety of their villages. A frown came over her features – as much as it can on a leopard – at the boot imprints marring the sand by the log and around the fire. She knew that sometimes humans enjoyed exploring the forest, but this campsite’s location was too far off Port Elizabeth and too deep into the forest for it to be a mere exploring trip. Only a man with a reason would venture so far into wild unknown territory. This did not bode well and could only mean one thing: Outsiders on a mission.

Closing the distance between her nose and the dirt she started sniffing about, trying to determine the direction the Outsiders had taken. A few moments passed when, with sudden realisation, Nosizwe lifted her head and looked straight ahead. “No” Her eyes filled with terror “no no no no no no” She was staring at, roughly, the same direction she had come from. A brief flash of Sipho and her mother invaded her mind, and with great dexterity and speed, she moved up the hills and ran towards her village, hoping she could warn the others in time, and without being spotted.

She was nearing the horn-spiked tree when the amber she was carrying fell as she tripped on a dead root shooting up from the ground. Once up, Nosizwe moved quickly to pick it up and was startled by the sound of hooves quickly kicking the dirt. As she rose her head, she noted her mistake. The sun, now high in the early afternoon sky, hit her golden chest that glistened proudly, attracting the expedition to her presence.

She froze as one outstretched arm, followed by heads, turned around in her direction. Nosizwe tried to back away slowly but, as soon as the horses started to move in towards her, she turned and ran. She ran and ran, her mind running even faster than her paws but never once considering that it would be best if she didn’t run home.

Her heartbeat was so loud in her ears she couldn’t distinguish between it and the hooves, and so, when she was nearing the gates, Nosizwe let out a guttural roar.

Ahead she could see the startled expression on her people’s faces and as she darted a look back Nosizwe noted, with great terror, that the expedition was gaining ground.

“HUNTERS!” She cried out as in a blink of an eye she’s transformed into human form, the piece of amber now secure in her hand. Deftly she rushed past the crowd at the gates – some going back to their animal form and others running home – and made her way to the green rugged hut. There she found her mother clutching Sipho in her arms. Taking hold of her mother’s hand she dropped the small gemstone “This is for him.” Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes. Her mother looked at her questioningly and was about to speak when Nosizwe cut her abruptly. “You have to run. You have to keep him safe.” She turned her head at the shouts coming from outside. “There’s a passage behind the Great Sage’s. I need you to run straight ahead and never stop until you reach the North Forest” Nosizwe took hold of her mother and brother dragging them towards the passage. “Promise you won’t stop running until you reach it.” Her mother looked at her, comprehension dawning on her as screams of ‘Hunters!’ reached her. “Nosizwe come with us.” Her mother was now holding Sipho in a fierce grip, her eyes pleading. “I promise to meet you there as soon as I can.” A moment passed before her mother nodded and transformed, carrying Sipho by the back of his neck tightly in her mouth. She watched her mother and brother move through the passage before briefly stopping them. “I love you. See you soon, mama.” With that, Nosizwe transformed back to her animal form and ran to help her people as the sound of gunfire joined in with the screams.

The battle seemed to last an eternity, casualties hitting both parties. And even though the hunters were outnumbered, their guns and weapons allowed them ranged attacks, which proved painfully effective against the animal tribe.

In the end the remaining hunters walked the battlefield, knives and bags in hand, skinning all dead and gravely injured animals, pilfering their talismans and village, and caging the rest of the wounded animals.

As she was being dragged to a cage Nosizwe focused her blurred vision on a man far in the distance, who kneeled in front of the Great Sage’s corpse and, greedily grabbing the Sage’s talisman wrapped it around his own neck.

That night, when Nosizwe was carried by sea towards England, the scent of copper and gunpowder forever embedded on her mind, the moon still rose as high above as always, the river still ran towards the sea, and the rain sill fell calming the hot ground. The only difference was that this time no one was there to cherish it.

#dimlymad #writing #2017

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