Tag: Hai

Sworn

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Elliot 181
Photo credit: Fallout

Incautious, the voices grew louder and more distinct the closer the vipers crept. Cahret slithered up the side of a coarse rock wall to peer over its horizon onto a bed of chattering Stingers.

“…but the bat should’ve been ours — we held her down,” one complained.

“Yeah,” another echoed, “what’d that old Crone do she should get it?”

“Not so loud!” the largest ordered. “You want the General to hear you whining? He’s not gonna keep her around forever, and after he’s done with her, who do you think’ll be feasting then?”

“So we’ll get the old bat in the end, huh?” the first one gloated. Shrieking laughter pierced the sky.

Cahret slipped over the rocks to call through the darkness. “Can you take us to your General?”

Below, a flurry of scurrying answered.

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Choices

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Elliot 180
Photo credit: Graeme Skinner

While inky night trickled over the Arids, Sirehta and his brothers wound their way toward the enemy’s base. Wary of night fliers, they had watched the skies and seen only one owl who must already have eaten or had no stomach to fight a writhing nest of vipers-on-the-move for a tasty dinner.

The Brothers numbered 17. None had remained behind. All were proud to repay the King of Bog for his kindness and for the damage they’d caused before they learned the truth about the Rebels.

“Sirehta,” Brother Cahret began, “is this to be our life now, spying for a King preparing to go to war?”

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Answering the Call

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Elliot 179
Photo credit: Calum Williams

“Thank you for coming, my friend,” King Arnie the Former welcomed Sirehta, the former Marauder.

Sirehta, Bringer of Death, answered the King of Bog’s summons without hesitation. This King’s honor had saved him and his brothers from enslavement at the hands of the Evil Ones to the north. King Arnie had shown the vipers compassion and mercy; he had offered them residence in the Kingdom of Bog. In return, they had fought beside the Knights, ensuring victory. The leader of Bog had earned Sirehta’s respect.

That respect only grew when the monarch invited him to sun himself as they spoke while the King chose to sit in the nearby shade.

“How may I be of service to you, Sir?”

“We’ve learned the identity of the Assassin, and we know where he is.”

“Do you wish me to slay him?”

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Forced Retirement

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Elliot 175
Photo credit: D.Parer & E. Parer-Cook

Anthony must have told him what really happened in the Freelands. Lucy’s options were few. Tensed for flight, she continued to watch alongside the General as the stingers in the hollow cleared away rubble. She took the only chance she saw. “What happened here?” she ventured.

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A Way Forward

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Elliot 174
Photo credit: Igor Siwanowicz

In the dark of night, two of Bog’s border guards escorted Randall and Teddy to King Arnie as soon as they entered the Kingdom.

“I’m pleased to see you have your son,” the King greeted him. “Are you all right, young man?”

Teddy stared at the King’s feet and nodded while clinging to his father’s leg.

King Arnie knelt and looked into the little frog’s eyes. “If someone had taken me away from my father when I was your age, I would have been really scared. I’m sure I would have cried.”

Teddy looked at the ground and shook his head. “They would get angry if you cried and they would put you in a black room with no lights all by yourself and they would tell you you had to stay there forever because your daddy was never coming back.”

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When the Smoke Cleared

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Elliot 173
Photo/Image credit: 4ever.eu/S.T. Ranscht

The baked ground gave up its heat to The Arids’ twilight. Lucy, stretching her wings and easing the kinks from her neck with a slow head roll, righted herself atop the termite mound, and prepared to take off on the last leg of her journey.

“I’ll grab breakfast on the way,” she promised herself checking the sky for likely targets.

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No More Running

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Elliot 168
Photo caption: Rolf Nussbaumer

Randall winced as he sucked as much as he could from the shallow puddle. Is all the water in The Arids this brackish? To distract himself from imagining what his son might be drinking, he asked, “Didn’t the General promise to send your child home when you did what he wanted you to do?”

“Children,” Gert corrected him as they left the muddy watering hole. “He took both of our boys.”

Bernie reached for Gert’s hand before he answered. “The General never asked us to do anything. We’ve never even met him.”

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Gert and Bernie

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Elliot 167
Photo credit: Igor Siwanowicz

The way found Randall sitting out the worst of the day’s heat in a narrow slice of shade beneath a mummified snag. As its shadow crept across the searing earth, he inched along with it, sorry he hadn’t let Girdliz take him to water before scaring him off by mentioning General Hai. Every dry swallow rasped down his throat.

Hunkered into the tightest ball he could hold himself, he jumped when a rain of debris showered onto his back.

“Hey!” he called to the two jittery creatures balanced on the tip of the snag, “Am I happy you happened by! Do you mind chatting with me for a few minutes?”

Each rotated a conical eye in his direction, but neither spoke.

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Edith

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Elliot 166
Photo credit: Amy Marques

“Huh,” Randall grunted. He watched Gridliz’s rapid transit long after there was anything to see, then turned and picked his way across a scorching maze of cracked crust sloping upward toward a scraggly, leafless tree.

Halfway there, a gliding shadow stroked its cool fingers across his back, daring him to look skyward.

The gigantic bird flapping low and slow overhead should have turned his blood to ice. He should have frozen in mid-step and dashed for cover the moment it looked away. Instead, as it landed in the lone tree, he felt hope.

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Girdliz

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Photo credit: Chris89

Randall returned to the rock chamber where he’d first met General Hai and agreed to free Duggla the Crone from King Arnie’s jail in Bog, so the General would give his son back. An old Stinger blocked the opening and snapped his pinchers at Randall. “Whatchoo want?” he grumped.

“I’m looking for General Hai,” Randall twittered from a distance.

The Stinger arched his tail. “That lot’s gone back to The Arids.”

So to the Arids Randall trekked.

Leaving his dappled green homeland, he crossed into the dusty sunshine’s unrelenting, barren brown burn. His head ached from the glare. Each step sizzled his tender soles. Only his resolve to save his son kept him moving.

As he passed a jagged boulder, it opened its eyes.

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