1st Day of Fall, 514 A.V.
They walked unheard through the jungle. Their stealth was not due to any real skill in the field, but the all encompassing rain that fell mercilessly from the sky. Long since had Zukwa grown used to the sopping wet chafe of his armor on skin. The loincloth about his waist clung to his skin uncomfortably, but he paid it no mind. Tokoh Seku, in her infinite wisdom, had sent her Fang out to the jungle to ‘patrol’ for the past week. She had given her reason, though she needed none, that the monsoon was a good way to build toughness and train in harsh conditions.
You must should be thanking me for taking your training so seriously! She had said.
Now Kish and Zukwa were following what had once been a shallow creek and was now an overflowing elongated puddle of chaotically dancing water. The rain did not let up. If tapped all over his body without pause, almost maddeningly. Zukwa could barely see through the haze of water. This was a time when he envied the beasts of the jungle their keener senses. Seku and Inka were probably holed up in a cave somewhere laughing at the image of the Fang blundering through the woods. Zukwa had been in the Fang for a few seasons now, but was still raw compared to the tried and tested mettle of Inka and certainly the honed skill and experience of one such as Tokoh Seku.
Kish stumbled in front of him. He fell into the stream feet first and almost lost his grip on the spear he always carried. Zukwa hurried to grip his arm and help him out.
“The Goddess Queen tests our resolve.” Kish sputtered as he violently rid his mouth of water. Black hair clung to his face and the young warrior used a tattooed forearm to rub it out of his eyes. He grinned at Zukwa through the rain.
“Yes.” Was all he could manage. He could not deal with Kish’s onslaught of dogmatic rhetoric. Zukwa was a devout, a fiercely devout, Myrian. Kish was more-so. Kish of the Scattered Bones was also his closest friend, closest living friend.
They had been walking along the tiny stream for the better part of the morning. Seku would most certainly know if they went back to Taloba sooner than she instructed, and punishment would be swift. Their strategy was to stay close to the city, but still in the jungle. They had been trying to keep within a few miles of the cities walls while searching for shelter. Shelter evaded the pair. Earlier in the week Seku and Inka had taken Muluc and Pap and separated from the rest of the Fang, saying they needed to fend for themselves for the week. Nimla and Chuc had butted heads for a few hours after that. Finally Nimla stormed off into the rain, her young minion Izta coming with her.
Zukwa and Kish, the more junior males of the Fang, were left to shadow Chuc and Kisin, the two most senior males. Both were huge, wide men. Chuc was as talkative as Kisin was silent. They were good company, as always, but soon banished Zukwa and Kish from their presence with rueful smiles.
“Go, Seku will be more impressed if you do not follow, but forge your own way.” Chuc had said as Kisin waved them away. He laughed then, a loud, carrying sound even in this rain. “And try to stay dry!” Myrian humor.
“Will this rain never end?” Zukwa shouted into the silence. Kish glanced back at him. Zukwa could see the white of the Rekrut’s smile.
“Perhaps we will grow gills and join the Charoda under the sea.”
“I’d rather drown in this mud.” They both grunted in amusement.
Zukwa was just about to say more when the sky lit up in a flash of white light. Barely an instant later there was a resounding crack. Then more flashes of light and more thunderclaps. It looked like it had struck near the direction of Taloba, but there was no way of knowing in this dense rain. They kept walking…
They walked unheard through the jungle. Their stealth was not due to any real skill in the field, but the all encompassing rain that fell mercilessly from the sky. Long since had Zukwa grown used to the sopping wet chafe of his armor on skin. The loincloth about his waist clung to his skin uncomfortably, but he paid it no mind. Tokoh Seku, in her infinite wisdom, had sent her Fang out to the jungle to ‘patrol’ for the past week. She had given her reason, though she needed none, that the monsoon was a good way to build toughness and train in harsh conditions.
You must should be thanking me for taking your training so seriously! She had said.
Now Kish and Zukwa were following what had once been a shallow creek and was now an overflowing elongated puddle of chaotically dancing water. The rain did not let up. If tapped all over his body without pause, almost maddeningly. Zukwa could barely see through the haze of water. This was a time when he envied the beasts of the jungle their keener senses. Seku and Inka were probably holed up in a cave somewhere laughing at the image of the Fang blundering through the woods. Zukwa had been in the Fang for a few seasons now, but was still raw compared to the tried and tested mettle of Inka and certainly the honed skill and experience of one such as Tokoh Seku.
Kish stumbled in front of him. He fell into the stream feet first and almost lost his grip on the spear he always carried. Zukwa hurried to grip his arm and help him out.
“The Goddess Queen tests our resolve.” Kish sputtered as he violently rid his mouth of water. Black hair clung to his face and the young warrior used a tattooed forearm to rub it out of his eyes. He grinned at Zukwa through the rain.
“Yes.” Was all he could manage. He could not deal with Kish’s onslaught of dogmatic rhetoric. Zukwa was a devout, a fiercely devout, Myrian. Kish was more-so. Kish of the Scattered Bones was also his closest friend, closest living friend.
They had been walking along the tiny stream for the better part of the morning. Seku would most certainly know if they went back to Taloba sooner than she instructed, and punishment would be swift. Their strategy was to stay close to the city, but still in the jungle. They had been trying to keep within a few miles of the cities walls while searching for shelter. Shelter evaded the pair. Earlier in the week Seku and Inka had taken Muluc and Pap and separated from the rest of the Fang, saying they needed to fend for themselves for the week. Nimla and Chuc had butted heads for a few hours after that. Finally Nimla stormed off into the rain, her young minion Izta coming with her.
Zukwa and Kish, the more junior males of the Fang, were left to shadow Chuc and Kisin, the two most senior males. Both were huge, wide men. Chuc was as talkative as Kisin was silent. They were good company, as always, but soon banished Zukwa and Kish from their presence with rueful smiles.
“Go, Seku will be more impressed if you do not follow, but forge your own way.” Chuc had said as Kisin waved them away. He laughed then, a loud, carrying sound even in this rain. “And try to stay dry!” Myrian humor.
“Will this rain never end?” Zukwa shouted into the silence. Kish glanced back at him. Zukwa could see the white of the Rekrut’s smile.
“Perhaps we will grow gills and join the Charoda under the sea.”
“I’d rather drown in this mud.” They both grunted in amusement.
Zukwa was just about to say more when the sky lit up in a flash of white light. Barely an instant later there was a resounding crack. Then more flashes of light and more thunderclaps. It looked like it had struck near the direction of Taloba, but there was no way of knowing in this dense rain. They kept walking…