Hahnee did not concern himself with time, the passage of the sun and
moon were things for the elders to consider. Despite this, he was well known
throughout his tribe for two things. First was his daring as an explorer. He
once took his boat all the way to the long island south and east of his
homeland and, after mapping the shore, returned to tell his people of it. That
trip he made alone. This one he had a crew for.
The second was the spiritual twig. He discovered it in the heart of the
lightning tree. A great mahogany that offended one of the spirits so much that
they launched fire from the sky, shearing the ancient tree in half and setting
it aflame. When the fire died down, Hahnee was the first to brave its location.
In the heart of the stump were two pieces of wood, twisted and charred together
around a stone. The metal had melted then cooled at the heart of the branches,
forming the center of it. To Hahnee the gift from the spirits looked like a man
with his arms extended.
There was a storm coming though. Hahnee sensed it, so did the elders.
Men would bring this storm. Pale men with one great spirit laying claim to all
of their hearts. One great spirit with no earthly form. Men who brought disease
and death, who would call Hahnee's trinket a "cross" and try to take
it from him. Another thing Hahnee did not concern himself with. He would give
up the gift from the spirits, if another needed it more. He would do so gladly,
as it meant a great deal to their totem and almost nothing to his.
He wished to find a safe place for his people though. That he did care
about. A place they could hide if the storm meant to destroy them when it
arrived. So he stood at the head of his boat, with four brave men behind him.
He would circle the great waters and return home from the other side. Somewhere
along the way he would find a haven.
As they approached the great vortex between worlds his crew grew
restless. They did not wish to enter, they told him so. He knew they must
though. So they did. As they slipped into the disappearing waves a storm rose
around them, a brutal thing that, in seconds, tossed all five men from the
boat.
Hahnee slipped beneath the waves with his trinket clutched to his
chest. He whispered pleas to the unknown spirit to save him for the kindness he
showed to the symbol. That spirit had other plans though. It liked its symbols
washed in blood. As the cold crushed down on him and darkness closed on his
eyes the cross slid from his fingers. It floated away, towards a different
future.
________________________________________________________________________________
Nicole blinked away the dream. She knew the story, of course, her
father told it to her. It was one of the foundations of the prophecy. Her
children stood over her, smiling, and she was terrified. In that moment she
knew what the rest of the world would see in them. Her daughter grinned at her,
with Chester's meat still on her teeth. Her son did so around a mouthful of
ancient mahogany cross. The symbol of the prophecy finding its way home. She
cringed away from those smiles, but only for a second.
"Oh, my Lord! You have tested me and I will not fail."
She reached out and plucked the cross from her son's hands. He was not
old enough to own it yet. she gave a smile of her own and now it was her
children's turn to flinch back.
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