The Darkness Steals The Light - The Elim Chronicles

Nubina

When I look up at the vastness of the night sky, I question whether the pattern of starlight is a result of chance, scattered randomly across infinite possibilities, or intricately orchestrated with a predestined purpose. There are celestial signs that hint at a purpose, yet I still question whether surrendering to fate is the true path or whether chance itself is so meticulously designed that it also has an orchestrated purpose.

Danan. The Third Great Age. 3031.

˜ ˜ ˜

Danan watches the sunrise, feeling the cold of the desert night melt away. Shadows retreat, and the wind becomes still. The oasis pool glistens like a jewel under the morning sun.

"Blast this infernal heat." Jain emerges from the oracle's tent, shielding his eyes from the rising sun. "What bloody time is it?" He mutters.

"We're approaching the far west. Thiel is a full turn behind our time, the Great Moon at its peak and dawn but a distant dream," Lord Varesh rubs his sleepless eyes.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Danan walks behind Jain toward the sparkling oasis pool.

"Beautiful?" Jain mutters with disdain. "I can think of many words to describe this sand hole, and 'beautiful' is not one of them. Diseased inbred filth—" Jain curses under his breath.

"Careful, Jain. We are still welcome guests and under Anut's protection," Varesh shoots Jain a silencing glare.

"Easy for you to say, Oh, Great Elim." Jain mutters with sarcasm. He kicks at the sand, which blows straight back into his own face. "They didn't try feeding you their tit milk all night. I didn't know if they wanted to feed me, fuck me, or eat me alive."

Jain crouches and places his hands on his knees, his eyes bloodshot. "That bird thing tried to, you know—" Jain starts dry-retching, fighting back the urge to vomit. "She wanted me to father her a —." Jain's voice trails off into a whisper. "She spread those little duck legs, and —" A thick glob of thick milky vomit splatters onto the sands.

"I recall you were more than happy with the audience." Danan pats Jain's back and helps him stand.

"Where are the camels?" Danan scans the sprawling camp with a quizzical gaze. "Where are all the brothers?"

"On a hunt." Lord Varesh removes his sandals and strides barefoot towards the oasis pool, his bright yellow robes fluttering in behind him.

"A hunt?" Jain rubs his newly formed stubble. "A hunt for what? There's nothing here but sand."

"It's best you don't know." Lord Varesh's icy eyes sweep the silent camp as he speaks. "There are at least three dozen brothers, and they seek a prize for their hungry sister brides. So, let us hasten."

Lord Varesh gestures toward a long, narrow dugout canoe in the oasis pool. "Don't just stand there. Get in." Impatient, he clambers into the tight-fitting dugout.

"How did you know this canoe would be here?" Asks Danan.

"Nubina provided it," Lord Varesh replies, a little sharply.

Danan follows Varesh into the dugout, rocking it violently from side to side. He grabs a carved paddle resting on the canoe's base.

"Who is Nubina?" Danan asks, trying to make himself comfortable in the narrow dugout canoe.

Jain pushes the canoe from the oasis edge and into the pool. It slides from the sandbank and comes to float. He takes a cumbersome step into the rear of the canoe when a curved ngbaka blade comes to rest at his neck.

"Not so quickly, moon skin," a voice hisses in his ear. "Wait for me, Lord Jain of House Adair." The cold crescent blade pulls away from Jain's throat.

"Welcome, Nubina," Lord Varesh says with a welcoming smile. "I didn't see you, although I knew you would be close. We must go, and with all haste." Lord Varesh gives her an urgent nod.