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The Legend



My name is Crafty.

They call me that because I attempt to be skilled in many ways, whereas the average person specializes on a certain craft. At my village, our learning place takes up most of the buildings and space. I am an adolescent, and must spend all day and night at the learning place until I can pass the Tasks. The Tasks are a series of challenges issued by the leaders for each craft, one Task per leader. I sleep and eat at the learning place with boys of a similar age, varying from the newbies to the ones soon to take the Tasks. I am past the newbie stage, and though it seems so far away I know I will take the Tasks before next Chill.
I begin the day at sunrise, where I go to the fighter section of the learning place. There I learn the basic skills of swordfighting, and I have already earned my wooden sword. One earns his wooden sword by killing one of the Great Beasts that live in the river near our village. They have sharp teeth and green scaly skin, and they don’t hesitate to kill anyone unwise enough to venture near them without a weapon. The lesson generally takes half-hunt long.
I go to the archery section after we finish our fighting lesson. I am learning how to use a bow and a crossbow well. It is considered unusual to learn both methods, but I am intelligent and learn quickly. I can hit a hive in two shots with a bow, which is good but weak in comparison to those who can hit a Puff Flower in one shot. With a crossbow, I can hit a Puff Flower in three hits, impressing the newbies who witness it.
After about half-hunt of archery, I go into the blacksmithing structure, which is a stone building with a smoke-hole and too much heat. My physical strength allows me to work for long periods of time over an anvil. I become more precise with each swing of my hammer, more accurate in timing with the cooling of the blade, more knowledgeable of which types of stone merge and which ones heat quicker than the rest with each experiment. There’s something about the heat of the room and the fury of each strike that fills me with the need to improve, and I take pleasure in seeing my progress.
I linger in the blacksmithing structure for about two hunts long, and come out sweaty, thirsty, and hungry. I meet at the Big Tree in the center of the learning place with a group of other boys and a couple of girls. I guess you could say it’s tradition; we’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember. We go to the woods and split up, the girls go to one section of the forest with a couple of boys to protect them, and the rest of the boys travel to the mountainside forest section. The girls know the areas with plentiful berry bushes and fruit-giving trees, even the location of a small spring. The boys go to the mountainside section because it’s where game is most common.
I have my javelins in an expanded arrow casing on my back. I crafted this javelin storage using my weaving and blacksmithing skills, weaving the original outline and filling it in with Light Metal. Light Metal is a surprisingly weightless metal found among the rocky cliffs near mountainside, Light Metal takes a while to heat, but is efficient to carry non-heavy objects over long distances. Anyway, as we traveled through our regular hunting route, we picked up three red tusks that were trapped in the nets we set up. Red tusks are animals that can grow from the size of a hand to the size of a full-grown man, they are mean and stupid and have large fangs called tusks protruding from their jaw.
One of the boys used his expanded bow (it was much longer than the average) to attack a flock of flight creatures. Several of his shots hit, but many more missed. We collected the corpses of the flight creatures and stuffed them into one boy’s collection sack. Our hands and bags and sacks full of flesh, we headed back home, merging into the girl’s group on the way. They hadn’t had as much success as us; their baskets were only half-filled. By the time we got back, roasted the meat over the Main Fire, and ate it, a hunt had passed. I recalled learning that we measured the progress of the day by the amount of time it would take to do a hunt, and the measurements seemed fairly accurate.
We didn’t hang around to long to eat; you never have enough sunlight to accomplish as much as you want to. I head to the crafts section of the learning place, where multiple classes could be taken in the same general area. In the crafts section, you can study weaving, pottery, jewelry-making, mining, medicine, and construction. I go first to the construction corner, where I build the specified object to the best of my ability with the increasingly limited tools. You see, occasionally caravans with items of small to great value come along quite often, usually about once a week. The last few weeks we have heard no sign from them, so our stock of supplies is dwindling quickly.
Anyway, I spend half-hunt in construction, learning something new each time I go, from a new tool to a new method. After construction, I head towards weaving, the only other crafting section place of interest for me. Well, I admit I have some interest in learning the other crafts, but I simply do not have enough daylight hours, and must learn what I enjoy or feel is necessary. In weaving, I learn a new design, tool, or method. I spend a half-hunt at weaving and then move on to a different section of the learning place.
At this time of day, when the Red God looks down at us from nearly its highest point, when all the boys and girls who live and learn in the learning place meet at a single location. We gather around the Ring, an area encircled by red and black colored-flags, the color fading from age and weather. In the Ring, our Instructors gather. They talk amongst themselves for a small amount of time, and we use this time to talk amongst ourselves.
A rumor was rapidly spreading through our side, one the Instructors would be keen to avoid. One of the boys a bit older then me nudged me painfully in the side. “The City has been destroyed! No more caravans! No more supplies!” I wasn’t surprised, only a little shocked on why it took the rumor so long to form. Any time anyone makes a mistake or something even the slightest abnormal happens, someone thinks up some reason and spreads it around until everyone believes it. They can be believable reason occasionally, but most of the time they were laughingly stupid.
I considered the truth value in this rumor. The caravans hadn’t visited our town since last section, four weeks ago. But assuming that the City was destroyed was being a bit overdramatic to me. The City likely had a food shortage or drought, maybe even a recent battle lowered the amounts of crafts to go around. But to think that the City was actually destroyed? Highly unlikely. I had heard tales of the City’s extreme defence, towers full of archers and massive legions of men armed with long pointed sticks, much longer then our spears.
It took a bit longer then usual for the Instructors to finish their talk. When they did, they stood in a Fang Formation and waited for us to quiet down with unease on their faces. It was only as the Archery Instructor stepped forward and spoke with a loud voice that I realized that the Fighter Instructor was not present. I only caught snatches of what the Archer Instructor said as I peered around, wondering where the Fighter Instructor was. I noticed several other kids doing the same. Finally, I caught the words “fight” and “lost” and began to pay more attention to the Archer Instructor. “…And so, we sent the Fighter Instructor to assess what had happened. He has not returned, as several of you have already noticed. We must assume the worst. A select few of you will be chosen to lead another search party.” The noise level rose dramatically as he said this. The Blacksmithing Instructor banged his hammer upon a sheet of metal. Slowly, the gathered students quieted down. The Archer Instructor cleared his throat, and then continued. “We will accept none besides those we choose. If you are chosen, you do not have to go, but it would be an honor if you do. This gathering has ended.”
I was fairly surprised. Those who would be able to do well in a fight were few in this village, and they were nearing the Tasks. Then, they would be gone, and we would hear no more of them. I pondered on whether I would be one of the ‘select few’. Though I considered myself decently talented, many look down on me because I learn a large variety of subjects. I’ve always been more of a loner though, so I’m used to it. Don’t get me wrong, I have my friends. I have my group of misfits, each with some odd talent.
The time after the gathering at the Ring was considered ‘training time’, Many used it as a time to slack off, have fun, or catch some extra sleep. I preferred to actually train during these hours, mainly because they were pretty empty. Also, it was always good to get some tips and tricks from one-on-one training with the Instructors. I had learned that going to Blacksmithing first was unwise, as it was usually pretty crowded. So I headed off to Archery, with good spirits.
It took the Archer Instructor a while to return, so I began practicing a bit with no one around. It was fun; I got to choose the best bows, arrows, targets, etc. When the Archer Instructor finally arrived, he seemed surprised to see me. I continued to fire, and got every shot with the bulls-eye, like usual. He watched me for a bit, and then looked around quickly before speaking. “You are one of the chosen. Will you go?” He said in a low, strangely quiet tone. I was so surprised, I did poorly on my next shot.
“Sure, I’ll go. However, I have a question. Why me? There are several others here that are much more experienced and advanced than I.” I said slowly. He paused in thought for a moment before speaking.
“You are… gifted. We will need someone with a broader knowledge to be with us.” He paused again. “I’m not sure if I should tell you this but… It’s bad. The Instructors are reluctant to go, for they know how many have died before them.”
“How many?” I asked slowly.
“Too many. Hundreds. Thousands. We know not what we are up against, but I can tell you few fight against them and win.”
“Wait… I thought this was a ‘scouting’ party. You act as if we’re leading an attack.”
“If only we could afford a scouting party. We hunt to kill. We must avenge those who have fallen before us, or die in the attempt.” The Instructor said gravely.
“When do we leave?”
“In a week. We must supply ourselves. As we speak, three Instructors are heading down the path that goes through our village. They hope to find the caravans somewhere down the road.” The Instructor answered. I nod to show my understanding, and then return my attention at the targets. The Instructor spoke again after I fired. “You must not speak of this to any other, even if they say they are one of the chosen.”
“I understand.” I answered. I took aim, and fired again. Three shots later, the Instructor left my side. I was debating what I needed to focus on practicing in this week I had remaining. I needed to study at Nature for at least a day; I knew little of the various plants and creatures out there. I needed to take the Test of Silence, where I would receive respect. Fire Studies is a must; I will probably need to light good fires for the battle (allowing me to use fire with my arrows).
Also, I needed to take the Test of Darkness and the Test of Blood. I need to be prepared to face the night, and a test of strength would help my pride. Obviously, I needed bulk classes in Archery and Fighting. Lastly, I would need to take the Test of Pain and Suffering before I left. If only I hadn’t been putting off all these Tests! I need to lighten up on the blacksmithing; it likely won’t be that necessary out there in the wilderness.
I decided to leave Archery. I went up to the Nature Instructor and requested to take the Test of Silence. I thought it best, mainly because it would avoid answering any questions that might float my way within the first two days. He answered slowly.
“Are you sure you wish to take this Test now, as these next two days will likely be very talkative.” He said. I opened my mouth to answer, but he interrupted me. “I am aware that you are more of a loner and warrior then one who gossips. And for that, I am proud of you. Know that you have obtained the pride of I, the Nature Instructor. I am obliged to let you take the Test of Silence, and best of luck to you. I will mention it to the other Instructors before the day is over. Come, to the House of Tests.”
I followed the Nature Instructor quietly. It was considered bad luck to speak on the way to the Test of Silence. About forty breaths later, we entered the House of Tests. It was empty, and we traveled from room to room without noise. When we finally came to a door reading,
“It takes skill to speak well, but a true warrior listens well.”
Without a doubt, this was the Room of Silence. In here I would spend an hour, and then leave at my own will. But the moment I entered the room, I could not speak to anyone for two days, nor attempt to communicate through means other than speech. The Nature Instructor took a deep breath, and began a speech that he had clearly made many times.
“You have reached the Room of Silence. The moment you enter that door, you cannot leave until the sun goes down. You will fast until the sun rises again. The moment you enter that door, you can speak no more, using speech, body language, written, or other communication, until the sun rises two cycles hence. Examine and appreciate the wisdom trapped in the room, and spend at least a hunt in contemplation of what you have learned. Enter and discover yourself, hidden in the shadows.”
After The Nature Instructor finished his speech, I mulled over what he had said in my mind. I would fast until the sun rose again, and could not leave until the sun rose again as well. After two sun rises, I could speak again. Easy enough. But discovering myself? That opted to be interesting. I made up my mind and stepped confidently up to the door. I turned the handle, and stepped into the room beyond slowly, unsure of what he would find and see.
I nearly gasped when his eyes adjusted to the millions of reflected light particles, but caught myself just in time. I shuffled forward slowly, my mind trying to notice every detail of the large room before me. The door shut behind me, and the knob turned to hold the door in place. What caught my eye most was the many intertwined lines of cut and twisted glass hanging from the ceiling, catching and twisting light to show a display of colors. Magnificent reds and blues, bright yellows and greens, deep purples and blacks, and sparkling orange and cyan-colored glass shards.
They were everywhere, these hanging displays. Some in sheets you could brush out of your way, as they were on the path. Others were firm, solid structures, attached to both the ceiling and the floor, in twisted designs to alter light in many directions. Almost all glass was colored and deepened, so as to change the color of the light passing through it. Almost all the glass was bent, so as to alter the direction of the light. There were designs and patterns on the floor and walls and ceiling, and many were swaying gently. There were missing chunks in the walls, letting in a fair breeze which stirred and spun the glass designs.
There were also statues and pictures along the walls and throughout the huge room, though not made with glass. They were crafted from varieties of stone, and most were normal kinds. They had sayings and stories written in front of them and on them. Also, in the center of the room was a large raised platform, with nothing on it. It was about 5 feet off the ground. It looked perfect to just sit there and meditate. I climbed it with little effort, but once on top I saw something which my mind said I couldn’t be seeing. It wasn’t possible.
A scorpion of tremendous size was stirring. It seemed to be coated in a black paint, and it was about as tall and thick as I was. It had blended in well with the color of the platform, but looked very out of place now that it was stirring. It was sitting in a small pool of the black liquid which dripped from it, and it was awakening from its slumber. Not good.
I froze, instinct telling me not to move until I had a clearer assessment of the situation. Its stinger could probably punch a hole in my stomach, or head. As it finished awakening, it took a step towards where I stood perched on the edge of the platform. I subconsciously took a step backwards, or tried to, and lost my footing when there wasn’t anything to step back onto. With flailing arms, I stumbled backwards off the platform. Flat on my back, I nearly complained aloud when I remembered I shouldn’t speak.
I looked upwards after catching my breath, a froze again to find the scorpion looking downwards at me from above. I found the paint-like substance dripping off it disturbing. In one movement, I rolled backwards and stood, then faltered as I momentarily lost my balance. When I looked back up at the platform, the scorpion was no longer there. Where had it gone?
I peered about the room, noticing that there was black trails of liquid on the pillars and ceiling. Were they there before? I struggled to remember, while trying to follow the trails. They all seemed to intermingle in such a way that you couldn’t tell where the paths had started and when they had ended. There was one or two paths on the ground, but most of them were along the walls, pillars, and ceiling.
After fifty breaths or so with no movement, I began to cautiously move about, looking for the scorpion. I didn’t like not knowing where it was. I was half-expecting it to leap out at me, or (more likely) drop upon me from above. I searched the entire room, corner to corner, very slowly and cautiously. I found nothing, which only unnerved me more.


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Well, after a few hours of failing to see, find, or hear any fresh signs of the scorpion, I lessened my tensing slightly. Darkness had fallen. I began to read the many things written in the room, by the orblight streaming in to light them up. Depending on the hour, certain displays would be lit up or in the darkness. Right about when the orb reached its peak, I decided it was safe to meditate. I made my way over to the raised platform.
After climbing onto it and scanning the room for the billionth time, I sat in the center and began to meditate.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 27.12.2010

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Widmung:
To my brethren, without whom I could not be who I am now.

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