vulpex
15-10-2007, 22:14
Outcasts
Somewhere in wide plains there is a hill with lone tuff of woods atop. The grove of woods is of gnarled trees, which have seemed to defy time and still grow green leaves of early spring. Two figures sit crosslegged under peculiarly shaped oak, with limbs issuing in allmost guarding shape.
"So, has come time of us to talk with Meaning and Purpose, daughter and Finder of Ways", speaks a man with head like smooth ebony and coppery hair tied in tight whip. His face that shows wrinkles of joy and worry carry scars of Honour, Guardianship and One-who-protects.
The one spoken to, remains still. She is of same breed than him, young, lithe and serious.
"What remains of Purpose, if ashes of kin are strewn on plains. What of Meaning, when all honour is just whispering wind, father-Protector?"
The man makes motions in front of his face in ritual, but she is reminded of tears. He pours some more mares milk to roots of ancient tree.
"It is true that honour is trambled underfoot by High Khans and their Masters. It is true that Orda, the Togetrherness is stricken apart. It is true that Sarai is no more, kin and High Ones are nowhere but in our soul-and-heart"
He offers her a cup of wine and blood, his, hers.
"Aihim!. We are the last of us, daughter. Where will your mothers of old, my fathers of old find solace now. Fire of our kin is doused and crow and wolf sneer at our bones"
She drinks, turns the cup around with precise, foreordained motions and with bow gives it back to him.
"Father, two of same fire can no build new nation, we are kin. There is no one in here west who could see the Purpose and Meaning. I do not believe we can build anew that which is gone"
He drinks his share of lifeblood of their togetherness.
"What is to be done, daughter? To live without purpose is to live and not live. I ask this formally from our sole Spirit Woman"
She sits hands in her lap, in formal pose but relaxed.
"The High Khans and their Masters still draw breath, the crows and wolves who speak with tongues of men still sneer on our bones. We still have life in us, Father-Khan. You still have Spirits of High Mothers to turn to. What else is there to be said?"
He sits on his legs and bows
"To hear is to obey, She-who-finds-the-way. We will go against The Dark, and most likely drown when it washes over us. This land of west is now ours to Protect and Guard, Purpose is anew and clan of Black Fox goes to war"
They both are silent a moment, then he smiles, as if the sheer magnitude of their promise is joke. She joins in with a wry smile
"Father, they made the mistake in letting us live"
Somewhere in wide plains there is a hill with lone tuff of woods atop. The grove of woods is of gnarled trees, which have seemed to defy time and still grow green leaves of early spring. Two figures sit crosslegged under peculiarly shaped oak, with limbs issuing in allmost guarding shape.
"So, has come time of us to talk with Meaning and Purpose, daughter and Finder of Ways", speaks a man with head like smooth ebony and coppery hair tied in tight whip. His face that shows wrinkles of joy and worry carry scars of Honour, Guardianship and One-who-protects.
The one spoken to, remains still. She is of same breed than him, young, lithe and serious.
"What remains of Purpose, if ashes of kin are strewn on plains. What of Meaning, when all honour is just whispering wind, father-Protector?"
The man makes motions in front of his face in ritual, but she is reminded of tears. He pours some more mares milk to roots of ancient tree.
"It is true that honour is trambled underfoot by High Khans and their Masters. It is true that Orda, the Togetrherness is stricken apart. It is true that Sarai is no more, kin and High Ones are nowhere but in our soul-and-heart"
He offers her a cup of wine and blood, his, hers.
"Aihim!. We are the last of us, daughter. Where will your mothers of old, my fathers of old find solace now. Fire of our kin is doused and crow and wolf sneer at our bones"
She drinks, turns the cup around with precise, foreordained motions and with bow gives it back to him.
"Father, two of same fire can no build new nation, we are kin. There is no one in here west who could see the Purpose and Meaning. I do not believe we can build anew that which is gone"
He drinks his share of lifeblood of their togetherness.
"What is to be done, daughter? To live without purpose is to live and not live. I ask this formally from our sole Spirit Woman"
She sits hands in her lap, in formal pose but relaxed.
"The High Khans and their Masters still draw breath, the crows and wolves who speak with tongues of men still sneer on our bones. We still have life in us, Father-Khan. You still have Spirits of High Mothers to turn to. What else is there to be said?"
He sits on his legs and bows
"To hear is to obey, She-who-finds-the-way. We will go against The Dark, and most likely drown when it washes over us. This land of west is now ours to Protect and Guard, Purpose is anew and clan of Black Fox goes to war"
They both are silent a moment, then he smiles, as if the sheer magnitude of their promise is joke. She joins in with a wry smile
"Father, they made the mistake in letting us live"