Earth Sentinels Collection

by Elizabeth M Herrera

  Zachary unhinged the flanged skirting that hung over the animal’s front and hind quarters, pushing the metal covers off, then pulling the pins holding the neck plates, gently removing each one, releasing the horse’s flowing mane. Then he undid the strap holding the shaffron, lifting it from the horse’s head. He rested the saddle beside the tree.

  The horse got up, shaking his mane. “Ah…this feels so much better! It’s funny, the armor was meant for my protection, yet I only felt its limitations.”

  A man’s voice echoed from deep in the woods, “Here, boy! Cheva!”

  The horse’s ears went back and his eyes narrowed.

  Zachary asked, “You have an owner!? Why’d you let someone—”

  Cheva interrupted, “I’ve been playing the part of dutiful servant, knowing that one day it would serve the purpose of meeting you.”

  “Wasn’t there an easier way?”

  “There’s always an easier way, but we seldom see it at the time,” Cheva answered introspectively.

  The bushes rustled. Startled, Zachary turned. He saw a huge grizzly bear burst out of the dense shrubbery with Billy right behind him. Zachary was momentarily bewildered to see his friend. “How did you get here!?”

  Billy laughed. “Old Indian trick!” He motioned with his hand to introduce his totem animal, “Everyone, meet Kaneonuskatew. Kane for short.”

  The bear put his paw over his round belly and bowed. “Pleased to meet you!”

  Zachary was amazed at the bear’s enormous size. “You’re huge!”

  The bear laughed, jiggling his belly. “Delightful boy.”

  Cheva said, “Pleased to meet you both. But now, I think it’s time to take Zachary on a tour of the spirit realm. Would you care to join us?”

  Billy answered, “I would be honored.”

  Kane lowered to all fours and the man sat on his back.

  The bear grumbled, “You’ve put on weight.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  Cheva and Kane carried the two men through the age-old forest, past the giant oak trees towering over the elm, birch and underbrush. Zachary rode the horse bareback, holding onto the mane to steady himself. He reached out and plucked a leaf from a passing tree, admiring its texture, amazed at how real it seemed.

  It wasn’t long before they came across an old man sitting next to a stone table with a fire burning in its center. Behind him was a thatch-roof hut that was open in the front. The back wall was lined with wooden shelves holding earthen jars filled with herbs, seeds and dried roots. He motioned for them to sit with him, then sprinkled an herb into the fire. Zachary and Billy dismounted and sat down. Fragrant smoke drifted over them. With kind, wise eyes, the spirit guide looked at Zachary, asking, “Tell me, what is on your mind?”

  “I want to save my parents’ farm. Can you help?”

  “Perhaps.” The spirit guide sprinkled another herb over the flames. A plume of smoke rose up. “But first, I’d like you to do something for me.”

  “Okay,” Zachary tentatively agreed.

  “Imagine a mountain…”

  “Okay...”

  “Now imagine the mountain moving from one place to another.” The spirit guide waited for Zachary to visualize it. “Did you see how easy that was?”

  “Yes.”

  “Change your thoughts, change the world.”

  “You expect me to believe that the whole world will change for me!?” Zachary asked in disbelief.

  “Change never impacts just one person. We are all connected.”

  “Like the Butterfly Effect?” Zachary glanced at Billy, who nodded in agreement, encouraging the young man to continue, “Well, change isn’t always good. The world is getting worse.”

  The spirit guide explained, “The world is like a river with sludge lying at the bottom. On sunny days, the water appears to be clear and inviting, but inevitably, a storm comes along, forcing the sludge to the surface, muddying the water. When that happens, you become aware of it and perceive it as bad, but in reality, it is an opportunity to remove it…to heal it. If you don’t, the sludge will settle to the bottom where it remains until the next storm comes along.”

  Billy lifted his hat to scratch his head. “Could we get a healing for the farm while we work on removing the sludge?”

  “Yes, we can heal—”

  “Great!” Zachary interrupted.

  The spirit guide finished his thought, “We can heal the land, but please understand that if you don’t heal yourself, you will continue relying on miracles to heal your manifestations, one after another, creating a cycle where you don’t make any progress. Unless the root cause is eliminated, the problem will reappear, perhaps in the same form, perhaps in a different form.”

  “What good does it do to heal the land, if it’ll just be ruined again?” Zachary complained. He was at a loss on how to proceed when a blue mist rolled across the ground. Curious, he and Billy turned around, mystified to see it flowing out of a blue door, slightly ajar.

  The men and totem animals walked over to take a closer look, leaving the spirit guide behind.

  Kane sniffed the door, then licked it, commenting, “Doesn’t have much of a taste.”

  “You’ll eat just about anything, won’t you?” Billy asked.

  Kane grinned. “You don’t get a belly this big passing up opportunities!”

  The small talk annoyed Zachary, who impatiently declared, “Obviously someone’s heard our call. I need to save the farm! Let’s see what’s on the other side!”

  “Look, I’ve got my doubts, but I’ll go with you. If it doesn’t work out, we can always come back here,” Billy reasoned.

  The blue door opened fully.

  “Shall we?” Zachary asked Cheva.

  The horse knelt so the young man could get on. He grabbed the horse’s mane, riding tall, ready for a grand adventure as they strode through the mist. Billy and Kane followed closely behind them, disappearing behind the door.

  By the Sea

  SEVERAL MOONS HAD passed since the intruders had devastated the tribe members’ lives. Pahtia and Conchita quietly sat around the fire inside their hut, the flames reflecting in the shaman’s worried, tired eyes. Conchita noticed, asking, “What is wrong, father?”

  “I fear more intruders will come to finish the trail. I think we need to visit Maka once more. Will you come with me?”

  “Of course.”

  He lit herbs to bless the journey and drive away the bad spirits, then he and Conchita closed their eyes, letting their spirits roam through a mystical rainforest teeming with exotic wildlife and birds. Pahtia looked around for his totem animal, surprised that the big cat wasn’t waiting for him. “Taslia! Come! We need you!” A roar filled the air. Out of the mist, the black jaguar appeared. Pahtia said to her, “It is good to see you again,” petting her head. “I need your help. Please take me to see Maka.”

  The sleek cat nodded, then strode through the dense jungle, guiding them to the waterfall.

  Pahtia moved ahead, standing among the ferns at the water’s edge where he beckoned his spirit guide. “Maka! Please come!” There was no answer. He called again, but she still did not appear. He called one more time before giving up. “Let us move on. Perhaps another spirit guide will hear our plea.”

  Taslia heeded his words, rising to her feet. She padded around the waterfall to a narrow staircase carved out of the mountainside, placing her large paw on the first step, leading them up the narrow, winding stairs.

  They slowly ascended, one foot after the other. Once Conchita lost her footing, but then quickly regained it, causing stones to tumble down the steep walls. It was an arduous mode of travel, but one that eventually took them to great heights, offering a glorious view of the cliffs and shoreline below.

  Around a bend, they came upon an old guru praying inside a cave. Pahtia hated to interrupt him, but felt his problem was urgent. He cleared his throat, hoping it would elicit a response, but the man did not flinch. After a moment, Pahtia
said, “Excuse me. Can you help us?” The man remained motionless. Pahtia was unsure if he was being slighted or if the old guru was lost in concentration. Preferring not to know, he gestured for Taslia to continue up the stairs.

  They arrived to a plateau overlooking the ocean. Waves crashed against the rocks below. Pahtia had never seen such a large body of water, but he didn’t want to waste his time deciphering the unending sea—his only concern was to get rid of the intruders. “Will no one help us?” he lamented.

  Conchita responded, “Father, someone will.”

  Taslia stated, “You are not asking for a healing, but for the death of an enemy. Are you sure you wish to meet the spirit who would grant this request?”

  “Maka helped us last time. How is this different?”

  “The intruders foolishly stayed. They could have left when the storm began, but greed clouded their judgment,” Taslia explained, “This time you are asking for an outright attack.”

  “Our tribe has lived in the forest since time began. It is our home, our life. It is not theirs to take. The intruders have been warned. They have chosen death!”

  A blue door landed with a thud behind them. Startled, Pahtia and Conchita spun around, watching the door swing open. A blue mist flowed across the ground toward them.

  Taslia warned, “The answer you seek waits for you on the other side, but be careful what you wish for.”

  Pahtia boldly stepped through the doorway. Conchita and Taslia followed him.

  The Crystal Ball

  THE DRAGON FOLLOWED Haruto through the blue door, emerging into total darkness except for the narrow pathway created by the luminous blue mist. He felt her unease as she trusted the vaporous trail to guide her. She suddenly stopped, looking behind her, simultaneously relieved and annoyed to see the dragon’s silhouette highlighted by the glow of the blue mist. She confronted him, “Why are you following me?”

  The dragon answered in a deep, rumbling voice, “Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

  Haruto suspected he had other motives, but her attention was diverted when she noticed that the mist behind the dragon was dissolving like a lit fuse. They needed to hurry or the path would disappear, leaving them stranded in the pitch-black void.

  She ran ahead with her red cape billowing behind her. A light appeared in the distance peeking through a doorway. When Haruto reached it, she pushed the door open. On the other side was a grand, circular courtyard made of stone pavers set in a spiral pattern, built on a hilltop. In the middle was an enormous crystal ball perched on a marble pedestal.

  Haruto and the dragon approached the glass sphere, fascinated by the blue mist swirling inside. Haruto strained to see what was hidden beneath the mist, but the harder she tried, the denser it became. The dragon flicked his forked tongue over the glass. His green, webbed wings were tucked back as he moved his horned head to and fro, curiously examining the crystal ball that he tapped with one of his sizable curved claws. He turned his head sideways, peering closely into the sphere with one of his golden eyes. “Nothing!” he grumbled, disappointed.

  Another invisible door swung open. The Bear Claw First Nation members walked through the portal, examining their surroundings. They immediately noticed the woman wearing a red cape, who stood next to a dragon with smoke percolating out of his nostrils and glaring at them with his golden, reptilian eyes.

  Chief Keme stayed near the door, wary of the beast. He called out to Haruto, “Are you a spirit guide?”

  She shook her head, answering loudly, “No, I’m here looking for help.”

  The tribe members were disappointed. They wondered what to do next.

  A third invisible door opened. Zachary and Billy made a grand entrance riding the black stallion and grizzly bear.

  Billy jumped off his totem animal to approach the tribe, “Greetings, all my relations,” offering his hand to Chief Keme.

  The chief shook his hand. “It is good to meet you, brother. We came seeking help.”

  Billy responded, “We also seek help. Perhaps today, we’ll find it.” He proceeded to greet the rest of the tribe, but kept stealing glances at the beautiful Haruto guarded by the dragon.

  Another invisible door swung open. Pahtia and Conchita entered the spirit realm, curiously observing the people who wore so many clothes. The black jaguar stepped through the door behind the pair, gracefully sitting down.

  When Zachary caught sight of Conchita, he couldn’t stop staring. She wore an animal-skin vest and sarong. Her exotic face was painted with a tribal design that accented her mesmerizing eyes. She followed her father across the courtyard where he introduced themselves to the others, “Greetings! I am Pahtia and this is my daughter Conchita. Are you spirit guides?”

  Cecile Two Feathers shouted, “Another one!” Everyone groaned.

  Pahtia didn’t understand their reaction.

  Chief Keme motioned for everyone to quiet down, “I am going to assume that we are all here for similar reasons. Perhaps one of the totem animals could lead us in the right direction?”

  Cheva, Kane, Taslia and the dragon shook their heads. Taslia answered, “I’m out of my realm, literally.”

  A repetitive thundering sound was heard, as if an army of soldiers was marching toward them. A fifth invisible door opened. Mahakanta Suresh, the cotton farmer from India, led hundreds of thousands of spirits who advanced through the door.

  Billy was shocked at the multitude. He asked Mahakanta, “Why are there so many of you?”

  “We were farmers who planted magic seeds that ruined us. I am ashamed to say that each of us committed suicide after failing to provide for our families.” His head hung low as he admitted, “Guilt gnaws at my heart for having left my children and wife with nothing.”

  Billy looked at the unending mass of farmer spirits flowing over the valley, their radiant, golden bodies shifting to and fro, swaying like wheat blowing in the wind. “What do you seek?” he asked.

  “I do not know,” Mahakanta answered solemnly. “Justice perhaps.”

  A shadow glided over the crowd, capturing everyone’s attention. Overhead, an angel flapped his blue-tipped wings, softly landing on the courtyard. He had jet-black hair and pale skin that resembled translucent marble reflecting the clouds in the sky. He was stunningly handsome with a strong jaw line and piercing ultramarine eyes. Over his tall frame, he wore a sapphire-blue robe tied with a light-blue sash. The angel announced, “I am Bechard, Master of the Elements. I invited each of you here today to help you, as well as the planet, which is being destroyed by mankind’s greed, corruption and indifference.” He made his way to the crystal ball, waving his hand over it. The mist cleared, revealing the earth slowly rotating. Everyone gasped.

  “Is that real?” Haruto asked, spellbound by its authentic resemblance.

  Bechard smiled, “See for yourself.”

  Haruto stepped forward, searching for Japan, then her city of Fukushima. The image magnified, showing the nuclear plant and the workers who scrambled outside the facilities in their protective suits trying to contain the radioactive wastewater leaking out of control, spilling into the boiling sea. She jumped back in horror. On the beach lay dead whales, sharks and porpoises. “Oh, my God! It’s getting worse!”

  Bechard responded, “Yes, it seems that mankind is constantly making blunders that are detrimental to its own health and the rest of the world.”

  Billy nudged Zachary, who was staring at Conchita, prompting him to step up to the crystal ball. They scanned the northeastern corner of the United States for the general vicinity of Pennsylvania.

  “Should be there,” Zachary said, pointing with his finger. The region came into view, displaying his family’s farm, then the panorama shifted a mile to the east where the terrain was littered with active oil wells. “They know it’s contaminating the water supply, yet they keep pumping!” he exclaimed, visibly upset.

  “Let’s move out of the way,” Billy suggested.

  Mahakanta stepped up to the globe sea
rching for his beloved India. Former sights and smells flashed through his mind. He smiled remembering how vibrant India’s culture had been for him. His dusty farm and vacant house appeared before the nearby city came into view. He saw his family begging on a street corner. “Oh, sweet devas, not my family! They are the lowest of low!” he cried, unable to watch any longer.

  Zachary felt compassion for Mahakanta, putting his hand on his shoulder. The farmer dipped his head, crying. Pahtia and Conchita, who were heading toward the crystal ball, also stopped to comfort him.

  Mahakanta lifted his head. With tears running down his face, he asked, “Have you ever been hungry while the earth seemed plentiful? Have you ever felt alone in a place filled with millions of people? I raised my arms to the heavens crying for help, but my plea fell on deaf ears. The world went on without me. It still ignores my family. How can this be? Does no one care?”

  Zachary gently answered, “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

  Mahakanta stopped crying. “I can see clearly that the government should have stopped the sale of the magic seeds. So simple! The seed man showed me pictures of farms with bountiful crops, but now I know those farms had irrigation systems. Those seeds would never work for a small farmer like me. They knew that! But they didn’t care.”

  No one knew what to say.

  Conchita wanted to take her turn at the crystal ball, but hesitated to walk away from the distressed farmer. She watched the young man listening compassionately to Mahakanta. Zachary caught her stare. His green eyes penetrated her heart. She looked away, blushing. Her father noticed the chemistry between the two and quickly ushered Conchita away while glaring at the young man.

  The father and daughter stood side by side gazing into the crystal ball, marveling at the Amazon rainforest’s colorful vegetation, animals, birds and other creatures living in paradise. There were no signs of the intruders.

  Pahtia sighed with relief, turning to leave, but Bechard stopped him, saying, “I think you need to see the immediate future.” Time sped forward as day and night cycled inside the glass sphere until a convoy of armored SUVs and a bulldozer appeared, blazing a trail through the rainforest.