Elect

Avalon 2.5: Camp du jour

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            Taken prisoners by a Neolithic tribe with only Roland the elf allowed to go free with their horses, the travelers wonder what awaits in the camp when they meet Ogalalo, the shaman, the one described as a man of power, and magic.

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            When they arrived in the camp, it looked purely Neolithic, a transient encampment full of wood and bones and skins and stones.  In contrast to the Amazon village, this camp had no sign of pots or metals or even agricultural activity.  This was strictly a hunter-gatherer world.  

            The men were shoved into a tent and Elder Stow immediately broke his bonds.  The Gott-Druk had extraordinary strength and no simple vines could hold him.  Then he set Lincoln and Lockhart free before they sat and waited to see what this Shaman wanted.  They were free of the vines but there were still guards posted just outside the tent, and Lockhart was reluctant to be the first to start the violence.

            “I say we check on the girls,” Lincoln argued.

            “They will be fine,” Lockhart assured him, and he hoped they were not in trouble, but he fingered his knife and imagined the back of the tent would not be too hard to slice.

            The women got a tent of their own.  Once alone, Boston pulled her hands free and stifled her excitement.  “I did it, I did it.  Magic, see?”  She held her hands up and did a little dance, though seated.

            Boston leaned over to untie Katie, but Katie said, “Wait.”  She tugged on the vines and after a second, they snapped.  “Zoe said being elect meant not just blindly accepting whatever the men decide.”

            “That sounds more Amazon.”

            “Probably,” Katie agreed.  “But part of the package is strength.  Strong as any man, she said, and frankly I am tired of hiding it.  I have been hiding it for twenty-seven years, well, twelve or thirteen years anyway.”

            “I don’t want you to hide anything,” a man said, and Boston and Katie whipped their eyes around to see Lockhart’s head sticking through a hole in the back of the tent.  He grinned at them when they heard a sound outside the tent door and Lockhart quickly withdrew and held the hole closed hoping the cut in the tent would not be noticed.

            A young man stepped into the tent and said, “Get to your feet.”  Boston and Katie got up and brushed off their clothes and the young man lifted his eyebrows at the sight.  He turned quickly to the door and shouted, “Hey!  Who cut these two free?”

            “No one,” Boston said.  “We just got tired of being tied.”

            The man showed anger on his face and grabbed Katie by the elbow.  She flat-handed the man’s chest and he flew out of the tent and landed a few feet away hard on his back, possibly with a couple of cracked ribs.  Katie felt sorry about the ribs, but she could not help her smile.  That felt wonderful.  It felt like something she always wanted to do but never let herself do in her whole life.

            The man quickly rose and held his chest as he rushed away to hide.

            The women came out of the front of the tent.  There was a young man in a wolf skin standing by the fire out front, and Boston guessed.  “Ogalalo.”

            Lockhart stepped out from behind one side of the women’s tent while Lincoln and Elder Stow came from the other side.  They flanked the women as Lockhart spoke.  “So what is it you want?”

            Ogalalo said nothing.  He stepped up and looked at each in the face.  He stopped when he came to Elder Stow and raised an eyebrow.  He spoke to the elder.

            “We have no quarrel with the elder races.  You are free to go.”  The others could hear the touch of fear that echoed in the man’s words as he looked away and returned to his place by the fire.  Lockhart repeated his question.

            “What is it you want?”

            Ogalalo simply waved his hand and Boston saw a bluish light escape from the man’s fingers.  It struck each person, and everyone froze where they were, except the Gott-Druk who was spared.  Boston got mad.  The firelight rose in her against the blue, and in a moment she was free even if her friends were still frozen.  But then she was new at this and could not control it well.  The campfire behind Ogalalo also flared and his wolf skin was set ablaze.

            “Sorry!”  Boston spoke right up.  Ogalalo looked startled for a second before he smelled the smoke.  He tore off his wolf skin and dashed it to the ground as Boston repeated, “Sorry.”

            “Little Fire,” Ogalalo said, and he did not sound unkind.  “A big fire, maybe.”  In that moment the sky darkened and the wind picked up suddenly.  There was a wail, like a banshee set loose and the leaves began to shake in the trees.  Boston, Elder Stow, Ogalalo and the people in the camp all looked up and saw a ghost-like creature that began to fly around the camp with great speed like one trying to create a tornado on a clear day.

            The people screamed and ran, some aimlessly in their panic.  Something like lightning shot from the ghost, but Boston noticed it had to become more solid to do that.  The lightning struck at several tents and those tents were set on fire.  Ogalalo lost all concentration, and Katie, Lockhart and Lincoln were slow to come around.  Boston named the creature for Ogalalo and Elder Stow who was searching for his sonic device.

            “Bokarus!  You cannot have us!”

            The bokarus zoomed up and paused to face her and the others.  The expression on that ghost face said it thought it did have them, but Ogalalo did not hesitate.  He grabbed Boston’s hand and she felt something taken out of her gut as she watched a ball of flame form in Ogalalo’s hand.  It shot at the bokarus who had to fly back quickly to avoid being hit.  The bokarus wailed again and began to circle the camp once more, but as long as Ogalalo had his hand up, the ball of flame followed the creature.  What is more, it was gaining.

            Elder Stow finally found his device and he let it rip, though the frequency was mostly above human hearing.  The dogs in the camp howled bitterly, and the bokarus made a sound like pain and rushed away.  The flame ball dissipated and Ogalalo fell to his knees, exhausted.  Boston fell with him.  She felt totally drained.  Katie was right there to hold her up and Lincoln and Lockhart helped Ogalalo back to his feet where they neglected to let go of his arms. 

            Several men came running with spears, but Lockhart put a knife to Ogalalo’s throat and threatened to cut it, so they stopped short.

            “Please,” Ogalalo begged.  “I mean you no harm.  You are free to take your things and go.”

            “It’s alright,” Boston said.  She had seen inside the man enough to know what motivated him.  He was desperately in love with a woman who did not love him in return.  All Boston could see was sadness.  She missed the cunning.  She should have remembered the wolf

            As soon as Ogalalo was set free, he stepped back and called his men to come in close.  “You brought the bokarus creature among us.  I saw how it looked at you.  If we sacrifice your lives to it, it will leave us alone.”  He was thinking like a cave man.

            “On the contrary,” Katie stood and placed Boston in Lockhart’s arms.  She stepped right up to Ogalalo’s face and was not at all worried about the ring of men with spears.  “The bokarus wants us for itself.  If you let us go, it will follow us and leave you alone.  If you kill us, you will make it mad by depriving it of its prey.”

            Ogalalo would have to think about that.  He did not get much time before a woman’s voice echoed through the camp.  “Ogalalo.  Let my friends go!”

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Avalon 2.5:  Unbroken … Next Time

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Avalon 2.5: Broken Days

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

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After 3675 BC , The Northeastern U. S. woodlands.  Kairos life 25: Huyana

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Recording…

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            “Where are we?” Boston asked again.

            Lincoln could only shrug.  “My guess is somewhere between Pennsylvania and Nova Scotia.  The database is not exactly clear.”

            “Smells like upstate New York,” Roland said.

            “As good a guess as any,” Lincoln responded.

            “How do you figure?” Boston asked.

            “I can smell the fall foliage, and the recent man-made campfires.  Smells like man-made global warming to me.”  He was kidding.

            “I had an earth science class in college,” Boston said.  “I remember there was a kid who answered man-made global warming for every question.  The sad thing was he got a B.”

            “The sad thing is earth science and global warming for that matter are impossible to calculate without knowing how the actions of all the little spirits of the earth connect to it all.”

            “How do you figure?”

            “Huyana.”

            “That is the one we are looking for,” Lincoln interrupted from behind.  “Another woman if you were wondering.”

            “She is also sometimes called Mojave,” Roland ignored the interruption.

            “Mojave?”

            “Yes,” Lincoln started to speak, but with a look from Roland he shut off the database and put it away.  Then Roland began.

            “Father would know this story well, but as I remember it, she was an unruly and not exactly popular child.”

            “Always picked last for the team?”

            “Yes, well, she wanted the power to get even, and by the time she became a teenager, she found out she did have power over the little spirits of the earth.  She was suffering.  They call it dementia, and in a fit of teenage pique one day she called all of her little ones to come to her.  The gods prevented most of them, but the ones that were near could not resist or be prevented.  Suddenly a whole swath of plains was depopulated and despoiled.  Without the Little Ones to tend it, it all rotted.”

            “Don’t tell me.  The Mojave Desert.”

            “Actually, yes.  They say it was Maya, the Corn Woman who healed her as well as she could be healed.  Huyana realized what she had done and regretted it, but it was too late for many in her own village.  They had to move, and quickly to survive, and Huyana was exiled.  She wandered some five years, slowly going East and North.  She may have been looking for the Amazon lands in the East, now that I consider the last time zone.  Some think that might have been the case.  But for whatever reason, she finally settled in the woodlands of the northeast, and that is where we are.”

            “This is a good place for lunch,” Lockhart spoke up from behind, and the group that had been listening to Roland paused to look around.  They were in a clearing in the forest where a circle of stones was already set for a fire.  A clear, bubbling stream wandered by just down a little slope from the camp. 

            “Good choice,” Katie dismounted and wandered up to look at the ashes in the fireplace.  She met Roland there who wanted to estimate how long ago people camped there.

            “Three days,” he decided.  “Not Alexis,” he added for Lincoln who was just getting down.

            Elder Stow got down with a groan.  “I will never get used to riding on the back of that beast,” he said.  “I am thinking I will end up bow-legged and looking like a gorilla.”  The others did not have the heart to tell the Neanderthal he already looked something like a gorilla, certainly more gorilla-like than an ordinary human.

            The travelers gathered around the circle of stones for a moment of pleasant conversation when a dozen men dropped down out of the trees, spears in hand.  Roland and Katie started to jump to the defense, but Lockhart grabbed each by an arm.  “No reason anyone should get hurt,” he said.  “Let us see what they want.”

            The warriors or hunters, unpainted, went straight for the horses and pulled all the rifles.  “They seem to know something,” Lincoln remarked.

            “Father,” Roland said.  “He has great mind magic as witnessed by the fact he has kept Alexis enchanted for so long.  I would guess Zoe successfully delayed him from exiting her world and he imagined we were getting too close.”

            One man stepped up to the elf and sneered.  “Not you,” he said.  “You can go.  Tell the witch of the woods we have no quarrel with her.”

            “Hey, Tumak, do you think these animals will be good to eat?”

            Roland stepped to the horses and spoke to the man.  “Touch one animal and I will see you haunted until you go mad and eat your own children.”  He quickly tied the horses in a line, using the rope from Decker’s bag.  Then he mounted and trotted off with a word to the group, in English.  “I will find you.  Boston, don’t be afraid of the magic inside you.  I love you.”

            “I love you, too,” Boston said even as the men poked their spears in the traveler’s direction and told them to move.

            The men had tied their hands behind with vines and now pushed them forward.  “We still have our pistols,” Katie pointed out, though they were hardly worth much with their hands tied.

            “I think Mingus wanted to delay us, not harm us,” Lockhart suggested.  He got a slap in his back with the butt end of a spear for speaking.  Katie turned.

            “Do that again and I will hurt you,” she told the man.  The man paused.  He clearly saw something in Katie’s eyes.

            “No more!” The head man shouted.  “Let them walk.  The Shaman will decide.”

            There was silence all around for a long mile.  Finally, Boston edged up toward the front.

            “Tumak?” Boston guessed the speaker was the leader of this hunting group and the man confirmed her guess when he turned his head to look at her.  “Your Shaman is a man of power?”  A year ago, Boston never would have asked such a question.  Even a month ago after seeing fairy magic and the magic of the little ones, she might not have asked.  But now that she had seen some small power in herself, she knew ordinary humans were not immune.  There really were witches in the old world, so she asked.

            “Ogalalo is a mighty man,” Tumak confirmed.  “He can do things, magic things beyond your dreaming, young doe.”

            “I am not such a young doe, but I have been called Little Fire,” Boston responded.  The man looked again.

            “So I see.”  He eyed her red hair, a color he surely never saw before.

            “Yes, and I advise caution.  You don’t want to get burned.”

            “Keep moving,” the man beside her said, and Boston quieted.

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Avalon 2.5:  Camp du Jour … Next Time

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Avalon 2.4: The Elect

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            Both Chloe, the young girl native to 3700 BC, and Lieutenant Katie Harper, the Marine from the early twenty-first century have been called “Elect,” and neither one of them has any idea what that means.

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            They arrived in front of a great, long log house and found a woman of about thirty-five years standing out front.  The travelers had no doubt who this was.  Her hair had the same extra light golden brown look that the Princess had and she was also clearly a warrior, being in the same excellent health and Princess shape.  She was the same height as the Princess as well, or just a smidgen taller at about five foot, eight, which made her a very tall woman in that world.  But the give-away was the armor she wore.  It was the armor of the Kairos they had seen before.  Only her eyes were not like the Princess, being sparkling green instead of penetrating blue, and while this woman, this Kairos was beautiful, perhaps very beautiful, she was not the Princess.

            “Glen?”  Boston felt obliged to say it.

            Zoe frowned before she smiled and said, “No.  But about time you got here, Boston.  I was getting ready to worry.”

            “We had some followers,” Lockhart said.  “No big deal.”

            “Revelon,” Iris said as they all dismounted.

            Zoe nodded before she spoke.  “Lockhart, Lincoln and Elder Stow, you need to go with the escort.  They have prepared a place for you and some food.  Roland, you and Boston need to escort Amira and my Sybil wherever the Sybil tells you.  Katie, you and I need to talk.  Iris, go fetch Minas.  Chloe, come in.”  And with that said, Zoe turned and stepped inside the long, log house that had to be city hall and the national government offices as well.

            “What is this place?”  Katie looked around and found Chloe stuck close to her side.

            “The hall of the goddesses,” Zoe said.  “You may meet one or more at their pleasure, of course.”

            “Goddesses?” Chloe spoke with a shiver in her voice.

            “Chloe,” Zoe put her arm out to invite the girl in.  Chloe looked at Katie first.

            “Go on,” Katie said.  “Zoe is probably the best person you will ever meet.”

            “Now, I don’t know about that,” Zoe said as Chloe stepped in close and Zoe slipped her arm over Chloe’s shoulder.

            “Man or woman,” Katie said.  “I haven’t found one to complain about yet.”

            Zoe did not answer directly.  She brought them to the center of the room where a table was laid out with all sorts of fruits and vegetables, greens, flowers and breads.  “Our offering table,” Zoe said.  “No blood, though some of the goddesses would not mind if there was.  We always give the best of the first fruits.  You must learn this if you would be Queen.”

            “Me?”  Chloe asked and looked back again at Katie.  “But you are the Queen,” she spoke to Zoe.

            “But the gods require me in some way I cannot explain, but I cannot be Queen for much longer.  Someone must be Queen and you are the elected one.  In the future days, there may be regents, but only an elect can be Queen of the Amazons.”

            “What about Katie?”  Chloe took a step back.

            “I don’t belong here,” Katie said.  “And I don’t even know what an elect is.”

            “One in a million,” Zoe said.  “Though in your day with over a billion inhabitants that has become more like one in ten million.”

            “But what does it mean, elect?”  Chloe asked.

            Zoe squatted before the girl and took her hands.  “An elect one is a woman with a strong mind and a pure heart who is gifted by the gods to protect and defend her family and community.  Strong as any man, she has great speed, dexterity, agility and coordination.  She has a high threshold for pain, is hard to injure, but when hurt, she heals quickly.  An elect has an uncanny ability with whatever weapon comes to hand, but she can fight just as well with no weapon at all.  She is a strategic and tactical thinker with great energy, perseverance and courage.”  Zoe turned her eyes on Katie and stood but kept hold of one of Chloe’s hands.  “Does that sound about right, Katie?”

            Katie shook her head to deny it, but Zoe would not let her.

            “Didn’t you out shoot and out run and beat up the boys in your training?  Even back in high school and college I am sure you surprised yourself and often deliberately kept yourself hidden.”

            “No, I –“

            “And on this trip you matched Decker, the expert Navy Seal every step of the way, though you are a lowly scholar.  Don’t think the Marines did not notice.  That is why you are here.”

            “No, but –“

            “Minas.”  Minas stood.  They had not seen Minas and Iris come in.  The two women were kneeling with their heads bowed.  “Iris, give me your sword.”  Iris gave it to Zoe who immediately handed it to Katie.  “Minas came to us just a few years ago, but she has learned quickly.”  Minas was one of those women who were much too big and strong to ever play the helpless role.

            “But I have never held a sword before,” Katie admitted and felt good that she knew which end to hold.

            “Then this should be fun,” Minas said, and she drew her own sword, and smiled.  Katie felt cornered as Minas made three quick swings.  Katie backed up and parried, but on the third, a backstroke, Katie lost her grip and her sword crashed to the floor and slid well out of her reach. 

            Minas hesitated until Zoe said, “Finish it.”  She moved in, but Katie dropped to the floor and kicked Minas’ feet out from beneath.  Katie at least knew Karate.  As Minas stumbled, Katie rolled and grabbed her sword.

            This time, Katie was the one swinging, and Minas was hard pressed to counter.  Katie might have been swinging out of fear, but it seemed more than Minas could handle.  In a moment, Minas was backed to one of the many posts in the room that held up the ceiling.  The last stroke was hard enough to wrench Minas’ arm.  She dropped her sword and grabbed her arm as if it might be dislocated.

            “Oh, I’m sorry,” Katie used the line she had used since she was Chloe’s age.  It was the first part of her litany about how it was an accident and she was just lucky and it probably would not happen that way again in a million years.  But she did not get to say it all.  Zoe interrupted.

            “Give Iris her sword,” Zoe ordered, and Katie did.  “Here.”  Zoe tossed a knife to Katie, or at her, but in any case, Katie caught the knife without being cut.  “Now, Iris, kill her.”

            “Majesty?”

            “Kairos?”

            “You heard me,” Zoe said and she squeezed Chloe’s hand to keep her out of it.

            Iris was trained to the weapon since she was a baby, and this strange woman only had a knife, but Iris was wary.  She circled and danced in and out at first to test Katie’s defenses  Katie turned the knife back and countered every stroke, but she felt confused.  It was all happening too fast to think.  At once, Iris moved in for the kill, but instead of backing up as expected, Katie appeared to be waiting for this and moved in as well.  That move negated Iris’ longer reach sword and made the knife the stronger weapon.  Katie could have cut Iris, badly, but instead she kicked Iris in the solar plexus.  Iris flew back several yards and crashed her back against one of the poles.  Her sword clattered to the floor while she groaned.   But then Iris was trained well.  She quickly got to her knees as Katie hovered over her.  Iris bowed her head in submission and spoke.

            “Elect.”

            Zoe let go and Chloe ran up to hug Katie.  “That was wonderful.  That was magnificent, and with only a knife against a trained sword.

            “But I have been trained to fight,” Katie said with a look at Zoe who shook her head.

            “Iris was trained to fight since she was a baby, and trained with knives and swords, and with her hands and feet.  You are an elected one, and you know it.”

            “But how did you know?”

            “I have known since the beginning, but I could not say anything until now.  The whole idea of being elect has just begun with this generation.  One in a million, and right now at Chloe’s age they may be found anywhere around the globe.”  Zoe turned to Chloe.  “You will become stronger as you reach maturity, but remember, finesse can beat strength if you know what you are facing.   You will learn to fight.”  Chloe looked excited by that idea, but Katie wondered if being an elect was such a good thing as Zoe turned to her again.  “Can’t you feel it?  Can’t you feel it in Chloe.  Look at Iris and Minas.  They are both warriors, but Chloe is different.”

            Katie paused and looked at Iris.  Then she looked at Minas.  Finally she looked at Chloe and Zoe beside her and nodded.  “I do feel it.  I understand what you are saying, but I don’t feel it in me.”

            “I do,” Chloe said, and her eyes got big.

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Avalon 2.4: Unexpected Magic … Next Time

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