The New World (The Last Delar)

by Matthew Cousineau

  The animal approaches Taeau, and with each breath dust expels from its nose like fire. Taeau's head throbs as the noise of the horse's breathing becomes deafening. The horse pushes Taeau to his knees with his powerful head, but Taeau continues to stare into his eyes, never breaking their connection. Taeau knows he must calm himself or be crushed in the beast's rage. He lets a peace fill his mind and reaches his hand up toward the animal. The horse tries to bite his hand, but Taeau keeps it steady. Taeau's heart begins to beat louder and louder. The rapidly flashing marks on the animal's forehead begin to calm. Taeau touches the horse's marking and it stops flashing; it glows bright and Taeau's necklace begins to glimmer. Their hearts begin to beat as one, and Taeau can feel a connection between them as if energy is transferring from his body to the horse.

  "Be my companion, dark hair, and I will protect you with my life," Taeau says softly.

  Taeau's strength is fading, but he rises to his feet only to stumble forward, losing his grip on the horse. The horse lowers its head and catches Taeau as he falls. Taeau looks up at the animal, and with what strength he still has, he tries to mount the creature. The horse lowers a knee, helping Taeau to his feet and onto his back. Once on top of the horse, Taeau lies down, hugging his neck.

  "I will name you Akima . . . my friend. My name is Taeau, son of the Meno farmer Dirty Hands." The horse walks around the fence to find a nice spot to graze, and with a mouth full of grass it stares back out toward the horizon, with Taeau falling asleep on his neck.

  Having witnessed the union between such a wild horse and Taeau, the Enopay are impressed. The calming of a horse with just his touch will bring much gossip to the huts of the Enopay tonight. Leotie turns and walks away, kicking at stones on the ground in anger. The crowd slowly disappears, and Alo leaves Taeau with his new companion, alone and basking in the early morning sun.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A shadowy figure concealed by black tattered robe strides through a fresh powdering of snow. A satchel is draped over its shoulder. Dark liquid drips from this satchel, melting the snow with each drop. In the shadow of the White Mountains, the forest hides under the moonlight, fearful and aware of a growing darkness. This phantom approaches a rocky shore of a mountain lake. He lifts his hood revealing a matured and dark face. His silver eyes look at the moon that has begun falling behind the mountains. Standing on the shore, he dips his staff into the still water. A canoe slowly appears out of the mist that lingers over the water, hiding the far shore. The nameless youth drops his satchel into the vessel and steps inside the wooden craft. He lowers his staff into the water, and the canoe begins to glide gently toward the mountains. He lifts his right hand, and the thick mist that rises from the warm water reveals a path.

  The canoe scrapes against the polished stones. Stepping out of the canoe, the youth quickly swings his satchel over his shoulder and begins to climb a steep, muddy embankment toward a small stream that flows down the mountainside. As the young man reaches the foot of the mountain, he slides his hood from his head and turns back to the lake. The moonlight reflects in his eyes as he assures himself he has not been followed. Once satisfied he is alone, he runs his fingers along the rocky surface of the mountain and finds three lines carved into the stone. Cutting his finger on a jagged edge, he fills the markings with his blood. The icy runoff falling beside him parts revealing an entrance into the belly of the mountain. He sets foot into the cave, and the mountain closes behind him. Here he begins the long journey back to the chamber that has been his home for nine years.

  With only the faint glow of his necklace to guide him through the emptiness of the inner mountain, he comes to an underground stream and steps in. Wading through the cool gurgling water, he takes a drink from its untouched purity. He follows the stream until it runs down a small crevice. Beyond the stream are three openings with engravings over the entrances. The youth smirks as he looks down into a doorway and sees the skeleton of a foot, long decayed by time. He sits down and crosses his legs, laying each hand on a knee. His head sways forward and backward, his lips softly mumbling an ancient chant. Small pebbles begin to strike the floor around him, and the mountain wall splits into an opening between two of the doorways. When the wall settles, he walks through the new opening.

  Climbing through the chiseled tear he created, he comes to a ledge hanging over a deep mountainous trench. Its walls rise and fall into the black void of the mountain. He stands at the edge of the cliff with his necklace glowing pushing against the nothingness before him. A warming updraft rises from the cavity below his feet. The light breeze blows his tattered robes that flap noisily in the silence of the mountain. Standing for a short time enjoying the calm of the darkness he steps out into the trench. His foot lands on rock, invisible to those who were never told it exists. He comes to the far wall and runs his hand across the stone, searching for a marking. His hand finds the smooth engraving, and he steps back. He lowers his staff and places it against the wall. He whispers an incantation, and a light shines around his staff illuminating a door on the wall. He lowers his staff, and the wall unnaturally crumbles into pieces by his feet.

  A thunderous bellow charges through the mountain as he enters the chamber. Once inside the cave candles ignite along the walls. The cave is different now than when he first entered it as a youngling. Holes have been dug into the ground and are filled with a dark, simmering liquid. The book that cut his hand and spoke to him sits on a ledge carved from the cave's wall. The tall, slender youth walks over to the book and drops his satchel. He releases his staff, but it remains upright next to him, and he places his hand on the book.

  "I am back, Master, and I have done all that you have commanded. I thank you for your wisdom and give an offering of blood as a sign of my gratitude."

  Tiny blades from the book's face pierce the flesh of its servant. The youth lifts his hand from the Ixkin and watches the book open, turning its own pages.

  "You have done well."

  Bowing to the Ixkin, the youth speaks, "Thank you, Master. What do you wish of me?"

  "You must finish your writings and complete the symbol of the Hhtuno."

  "Yes, Master. It will not be long now."

  He picks up a deer-hair brush and a skull bowl lying on the cave's floor. He dips the bowl into one of the puddles of liquid and walks over to the wall. The Ixkin floats by his side and its open pages fill with symbols. He dips his brush into the liquid and begins to inscribe the symbols onto the wall.

  After he writes the last symbol from the book, he steps back.

  "It is finished, Master . . . I have completed the incantation of the Hhtuno!"

  "This is a night of nights, my servant. You have done well, and it is time that I fulfill what I have promised. You must leave this cave and become a true Hhtuno. Tonight, you will feel the power that only a Hhtuno lord possesses, and you will hear your Hhtuno name for the first time."

  The young man's heart pounds with excitement, for he has wanted a name for as long as he can remember. He has been called "slave" and "servant" for too long.

  "I am honored, Master."

  "Kneel in front of the pool filled with the blood of the Uluani and place the satchel to the North and the staff to the West."

  The youth walks to the largest pool on the floor. The Ixkin slams shut, echoing loudly in the cave. He winces as he bows his head to the ground. A wind blows within the cave and extinguishes the chamber candles. The symbols he has painted on the cave's floor begin to ignite in flame.

  "Put your head over the pool," he hears the voice of the book echo in his mind.

  Without hesitation, he obeys. A strong wind blows down from above, pushing his face closer to the blood of the Uluani. His scalp burns, and he watches his long black hair slowly fall into the pool. Once the last strand of his hair sinks into the liquid, he hears the Ixkin again. "Take the satchel and drop the feathers and beak of the Hornbill into the pool."

  He does as he is told. The Ixkin rips a page free from its bindi
ng and sends it shooting into the air. Oskeau's eyes follow the page as it slowly floats down into the bubbling pool at his knees. When the page touches the liquid, it becomes still. The cave shakes, and all the pools erupt, expelling a thick vapor. The smog creates a tornado of darkness around the youth.

  "RISE, MY SERVANT, AND READ THE INCANTATION OF THE HHTUNO!"

  The dark cloud circles the cave and lifts him to his feet. He reads the symbols on the wall. With every word he speaks, the cloud circles faster and louder around him. A great intoxicating strength begins to well inside him as he continues to read, speaking each word louder than the last. The billowing smoke continues to rise from the pools circling around him. "Ruck-Ketsa-Ko-A." When the words leave his lips, the dark swirling cloud slams into his chest, driving him into the chamber's wall. The darkness seeps into his flesh, darkening the color of his skin and turning his eyes to darkness. He looks down and sees that the feathers from the Hornbill have bound with the cloth of his robs and the beak of the bird with his hood. He looks into one of the reflective pools and sees his changed skin, and he touches his bald scalp. A laughing sound echoes in the cave, and he turns his black eyes to the Ixkin resting back in its rightful place. He opens his hand and his staff rises, soaring through the darkness of the cave. He comes to the book and places his hand on the cover.

  "Open me for the first time, not as my servant but as a lord of the Hhtuno. Open my pages, and look upon your name."

  He slowly opens the book and stares in anticipation as the pages shuffle. He bows to the Ixkin. "I am ready," he says and he looks down at the page with great excitement. A black murky ink begins to consume the coarse fibers of the page.

  "You are the Lord of the Hhtuno and Master to the Oota-Daboon. Now read your name aloud and take your place as a true Hhtuno."

  He looks at the book, but sees only a page veiled in darkness. As he stares at the empty page, his heart sinks in disappointment. His fists begin to clench tightly, and the thick cloud around him swirls violently. A light begins to shine from a far wall. All of the markings he inscribed on the stone glow and reshape themselves on the wall.

  "UN-NABUS," he speaks out loud reading the newly formed writing.

  The word reverberates in the cave. His necklace rises, shining in the dark. He speaks his name again, and like thunder it roars from his mouth: "UN-NABUS!"

  "Now raise your hand and release me."

  Un-Nabus drops the Ixkin, and the slowly rising smoke from the pools swirls around the book, engulfing it. The dark cloud that swallowed the book surrounds his hand and rips into his flesh. There is a brief sensation of deep cold before the pain is gone. He lowers his hand and stares at what the darkness has done. His hand now bears a scarlet mark.

  "You now bear the mark of the Hhtuno. You no longer need to read my pages to hear my voice, for now we are one. You can summon the Ixkin from your mark when you need to look at its pages. Before you now is a great quest. You must regain the allegiance of the Oota-Daboon and reclaim the Len of Ituha before you can sit on the throne of the Hhtuno. Alone you cannot do this. You must have a slave to serve you. Go back to the cave where you were once a captive and find your former master, Puddle. The bond you share with him is strong, for a slave and his master are always connected. You must find him and become his master."

  "Yes, I understand," says Un-Nabus.

  Un-Nabus starts to laugh in triumph. He reaches out his arms. He slams his staff to the ground, and the darkness swirling around him obeys his every command. Un-Nabus turns, facing the western wall of the chamber, and taps the floor with his staff. The dark swirling cloud crashes into the rock, revealing a tunnel. He lowers his staff and walks through the door. He turns back to the cave with a twinkling in his black eyes, and the cave begins to collapse. Once the last stone has fallen, he turns back to the darkness and begins his new journey.

  ---

  A black Hornbill flaps its wings through a cluster of Mangrove trees. Spotting a sturdy tree, the bird perches on a thick branch. Shaking its hollow beak and filling large red sacs on its neck with air, the Hornbill bellows loudly. The noise echoes through the quiet marshland as the morning sun begins to rise. The Hornbill dives off the tree, opens its large wings, and explodes into a dark cloud. From inside the darkness walks Un-Nabus, pushing back his hood as he assumes his human form. Un-Nabus's feet silently slosh through the thick mud searching for a place he has been before. His dark aura follows his movements as he circles the Mangrove tree. He lowers his head beneath its high roots. A small puddle has collected under the tree, and Un-Nabus stares at it inquisitively. Pulling up a sleeve of his dark robe, Un-Nabus catches a glimpse of his marked hand before he waves it over the puddle. The creatures frantically fight to the surface as their home suffocates them. Shellfish, crabs, snakes, and lizards wiggle in the muddy water beneath Un-Nabus's hand.

  Un-Nabus pulls up his hood and takes on the form of the Hornbill. The black bird bellows as it flies up toward the trees; it lands on a branch, snaps its large beak, and tucks its head under a wing to rest. Life in the marshland is slowly beginning to wake from its nightly slumber when the Hornbill snaps its head in the direction of loud splashing. A small creature, face deep within the mud, grunts and snorts while it dives through the marsh in search of food. A Muddler's head rises before it shakes the mud from its face. Un-Nabus can see a large scar across the creature's face.

  "Ahhh, no tasties, no pinchers, Puddle so hungry."

  Puddle has become a thin, wild-looking creature whose scraggly hair has turned white and thin. Un-Nabus peers down at the ground where his trap is prepared. The shellfish, crabs, and other creatures splash and make noise again under Un-Nabus's gaze.

  "What? Where?" Puddle shouts as he runs over to the tree in disbelief.

  "Good food Puddle has found! Puddle is great hunter! Oh yes!" the Muddler cries as he jumps into the buffet of small critters.

  Once Puddle has eaten his fill, he collects what is left and starts the half-day journey back to his cave. Un-Nabus follows Puddle from the trees, unseen. At midday, Puddle stops under a tree to take refuge from the sun and rest. He sets down his gathered food and quickly falls asleep. Un-Nabus takes this time to hunt and swiftly catches a brown-haired rabbit. Un-Nabus brings the small animal back to the place where Puddle sleeps. He watches the Muddler from a branch and tears at the flesh of his prey. After picking at its meal, the Hornbill swoops down and drops what is left of his kill next to Puddle.

  Puddle wakes from his midday nap with a full stomach and renewed strength. He cannot remember the last time he felt so pleased with himself. He starts to collect his food when he is startled to see the half-eaten rabbit lying next to him. He slowly backs away from the dead animal; Puddle nervously looks around, sensing Un-Nabus's eyes upon him. Darkness begins to permeate the forest, consuming Puddle with fear. He runs as fast as his legs will carry him, constantly looking back, stumbling and tripping through the underbrush. As Puddle runs, he slowly drops all the food he has collected, leaving a trail of shellfish behind him. The day is fading, and he wants to return to the safety of his cave before dark. Puddle approaches his cave and stops and stares at the forest floor. He bends down to take a closer look, and his eyes widen as he makes out the imprint on the ground. He knows the sight and smell of these tracks.

  "My cave! NO, NO, NO! Not Puddle's cave," shouts the Muddler as he slams his fists on the ground and slobbers in anger. "Won't let him!" he squeals as he runs down the side of the hill above his cave. Puddle trips in his haste and rolls down the rest of the way, landing with a loud thud on the ground below. Crouching on the floor and holding his stomach, Puddle tries to catch his breath. But before he has time to stand, he hears the hissing and slurping of a long-tooth. The creature's massive tail waves in the air as it awkwardly crawls toward Puddle. The lizard's body is all black except for its blood-stained head. The lizard keeps its face to the ground smelling his surroundings with its long, blue tongue. The beast's body is covered with scaly armor
, and small teeth that contain poisonous saliva protrude from his mouth. The monitor stops licking the ground and raises his head. It has picked up Puddle's scent. The beast snaps its jaws at Puddle, who is frozen in terror.

  "Leave my cave, you nasty beast, or I'll kill you! Leave me alone, PLEASE!" Puddle pleads desperately with the beast, half sobbing, half yelling.

  Puddle begins to beg, "Don't eat me, beast. I will give you the cave, I promise!"

  Puddle screams as the forest monitor lunges for his head, ready to devour him. He cowers, covering his face with his hands. When Puddle looks up from behind his hands, he sees only darkness. The monitor is suspended in the air, desperately trying to escape. It groans as its arms and legs struggle.. The darkness overtakes the creature, and blood stains the forest floor. The darkness that has embraced the beast disappears, and the lizard drops to the ground.

  "Do you fear what is before you, Muddler?" bellows a voice that terrifies Puddle more than the creature that was about to consume him. Puddle scampers away from the voice, but he does not go far. The darkness that attacked the lizard forms a hand and pins the Muddler against the cave wall. It raises him off the ground, and Puddle kicks helplessly.

  "Don't kill me! What has Puddle done to you?"

  "What has he done indeed," says the voice.

  Un-Nabus walks out from the shadow and reveals himself to his former master. Puddle’s body is frozen, a fear so powerful and overwhelming his breath stops as he stares at Un-Nabus. Puddle looks at the dark one's face but can only see his eyes, and his flesh immediately begins to curl. Puddle looks away, trying to avoid the dark one's glare.

  "Well, Puddle, what do you think I have come for?"

  "Not to kill little Puddle . . . he not worth it, he not worthy to be in the dark one's presence. Puddle thinks the dark one wants something, Puddle will do anything the dark master wishes."

  "You are right, worm, but I will give you a choice since your life I now own. Be my slave until I release you, or begin your journey to the afterlife. What will it be?"