Unicorn Sacrifices
Page 6
***
The sun bore heavily down upon the tired, wizened face of Noah, as he gazed out upon the dry, red desert lands. With the hot breeze massaging his temples, he kept his breathing shallow to ease the burning air from his lungs. Soon, he must take a drink of water.
The work upon the Ark had been complete some three weeks ago, and all of the chosen animals had now surrendered to the future safety granted by the Ark. That is, all of the chosen animals were aboard except for two, the unicorns.
Laranki and his wife, Soreecilor, had not yet arrived and Noah had begun to worry for their safety. The world was now a treacherous place for all animals and Noah feared that the two unicorns might have run into some marauding human band that sought their horns as trophies. The humans would not rest in their quest to obtain a unicorn horn.
Shaking his head slowly, Noah was trying to remove the visions within that reminded him of the evil that had been, and still was, being carried out by humankind. He could not believe the things that humans would do, even though he had seen so many of these barbaric acts with his own eyes.
Raising his head once more, Noah was squeezing his eyelids partially together, his eyes fighting against the sun, searching the barren landscape for any sign of the two unicorns.
Across the desert, he could see the nearby hills and, beyond, the hazy silhouettes of the not too distant mountains. The background noises to these sights were of the sounds of a multitude of animals that waited patiently, though some were panicky, within the uncertain safety of the Ark. Other sounds, which Noah could occasionally hear, were being made by his three sons, Shem, Ham, Japheth, and their three wives. They were all at work tending to the beasts and making the final preparations for the voyage they would all soon undertake.
Noah thought of all the animals on board the Ark and was puzzled as to why one of their brothers and sisters seemed so intent on missing the boat.
Noah knew that God himself had informed all the creatures that were to be given sanctuary upon the Ark, the location of the Ark and a time to be there; it was their duty to ensure that they made their way to the Ark by the predetermined time.
God had given Noah his instructions on how to assemble the Ark, the size it should be, and the layout of the rooms within. He had told Noah of the foods to collect, the amounts, and where it should be placed within the Ark.
‘All the frantic preparation and now this agonising waiting…’ thought Noah.
The incessant heat began to burn into Noah’s brow and he began gently dabbing his forehead with a cloth, absorbing the sweat and cooling himself slightly and, even though it appeared to be a waste of time, it gave Noah something to be physically doing while he waited for the unicorns, and for the rains.
Sighing, Noah felt it was time for him to move back below the decks and give aid to his wife, and sons, and daughter-in-laws for, although everything was ready and the Great Flood was awaited, Noah insisted that he and his family checked everything again, and again. When the Great Flood eventually came, there would be no chance to fix anything, no time to make final adjustments; everything had to be right, everything had to be strong, secure, and working correctly.
Stepping down from the ladder that he used to see out across the side of the Ark, Noah paused when a figure in the desert caught his attention. It was the male unicorn, Laranki. Placing a foot back upon the highest rung, Noah stretched himself upwards, with one hand extended across his heated brow as he peered, squinting against the sunlight, across the sand to where he had caught a glimpse of the motionless unicorn.
Staring, his eyes fighting against the blinding sun, he saw the unicorn move a little closer toward the Ark but the unicorn stopped, seeming agitated with his head moving warily from side to side.
The unicorn was too far away for Noah to call to him, but Noah wondered, ‘Why is the unicorn alone?’
Across the shimmering sand, Noah could see that the unicorn seemed of silver as his beautiful white coat seemed to sparkle in the gruelling heat of the day. The unicorn began advancing slowly, coming to a halt once again, with his face gazing up toward Noah.
Beginning to call out to the unicorn, Noah saw that the comfort and calm that he expressed in his voice seemed to encourage the unicorn, for the beast edged himself a little closer to the side of the Great Ark and, eventually, the unicorn was standing close enough to the Ark that Noah could easily see how tense and nervous the unicorn was.
Continuing to stare at the unicorn, Noah decided that it was trying to gather the strength and courage to come closer still, but it was obvious that the unicorn was failing in this task as he raised his head, snorting, and moved a few paces backwards.
By nature, unicorns were nervous creatures but there were so many more of God's creatures which, by nature, were also fearful. ‘Other timid creatures have already come aboard. Why is the unicorn behaving this way?’ Noah asked himself.
Seeing no reason for the unicorn to be anxious when he was this close to the Ark, he thought, ‘What is the unicorn afraid of? If he and his wife did not get aboard quickly then it is going to be too late, for the unicorns would surely perish when the promised rains took their fatal grip upon the lands.’
Laranki had moved very close, and Noah could see a very worried expression upon the great beasts face.
Feeling fearful for the safety of the beast, Noah decided that he should lower the ramp to allow the male unicorn to come aboard the Ark. ‘Perhaps the female unicorn is only a little distance behind Laranki and she too would be arriving soon.’
This thought gave no comfort to Noah because, in truth, he knew of the great love that bonded unicorns had for each other. Unicorns were famed for their love for one another.
‘One would not travel ahead of the other. Where is the female? Had humans taken her for the trophy of her horn? Is she even alive?’
Moving quickly and yet with the frailty offered to bones of such an age, Noah headed towards the ladder which descended from the rear section of the Ark. Swinging a leg across the side of the boat, his foot sought out the top rung of the ladder. If he could get to the ground quickly enough, and get around the side to try to find out what was ailing the unicorn, then he may yet save the beasts but, even as his foot rested upon the topmost rung he became aware of shouting and yelling from nearby.
A crescendo of unwanted sounds came welling into his ears, as he recognised a disturbance in the air that he knew so very well.
‘It will be another group of drunken people from the local town, come to play their fun and games beside the Ark!’
Gazing down at the small crowd that had gathered upon the desert floor, not far from the ladder that he rested upon, Noah began looking amongst them, seeing faces of ones that once he had called friends. Now these friends jeered and scoffed at Noah and his family, and called them fools. Continuing ignoring them, as he had always done since he had first begun his work upon the construction of the Ark, he moved quickly back towards the side of the Ark. He was saddened to see a dust-cloud that hid the receding figure of the frightened unicorn, as the beast ran out into the desert, fleeing from the human rabble that had descended upon the Ark.
In anger, Noah ran back to the rear of the ship and, with evident annoyance in his voice, he shouted down at the human crowd.
“Go home; there is nothing for you here. Leave me and my family alone.”
A crash beside him, suddenly startling him, heralded the arrival of a container that had been thrown toward him. Made of crude pottery, it smashed against the side of the Ark, showering Noah with broken shards and wine.
‘The fools below are as drunk as ever and have come to the Ark for a little self made fun because they were bored with their own little lives,’ thought Noah.
“Go away,” shouted Noah, pulling broken pottery shards from his long white beard, feeling the wetness of the wine that lay there also.
A strong arm came around Noah’s waist and, looking upward, he gazed into the features of his son, J
apeth, who stood shaking his fist at the mob below, cursing them, and causing another barrage of pottery and sticks to come hurling towards the upper deck of the Ark. They all struck the side of the vessel and bounced harmlessly from it, before falling back towards the crowd.
Japeth, untying the ladders restraints, pushed it away, watching it topple towards the crowd who, scattering, began hurling more abuse at the Ark. The voices of the crowd were becoming louder and Noah began to become concerned for the safety of the beasts upon the Ark. The animals also became frightened and nervous when a crowd came from the town, and it always took Noah and his family a lot of effort to get them calm again. With the ladder, pushed from the Ark by Japeth, now broken into many parts, it was now being hurled back at the Ark piece by piece. Taking a firmer hold on Noah’s arm, Japeth tried to lead him away from the side of the Ark and into the inside.
“No, my son, I must wait here. I must await the unicorns,” argued Noah.
“I can do that, father. You must have rest,” Japeth replied.
“Your body, and your strength, can do more inside. Go back to work, my son. I will await the unicorns,” said Noah, determinedly.
Looking at the tired and weary eyes of his father, Japeth could still see in them the strength to win at all that he chose.
Wiping away some of the wine that had splashed upon his father’s beard, he said, “I will bring you some food...”
Noah nodded, watching Japeth turn and begin climbing back down through the tightly thatched hatchway that led into the Ark itself.
Returning his gaze to the desert, Noah continued watching, intently, for any other sign of the unicorns. Against the blinding sunlight, he could only faintly make out the faraway mountains and hills. The unicorn had left no footprints in the sand to show that he had ever been there.
Knowing that untrue, because he knew the footprints must be there, he cursed the sun and his failing eyesight because he could not see them clearly.
Letting out another sigh, and ignoring the drunken fools below, Noah continued gazing out across the sun scorched desert in the direction from which the unicorn had first emerged. He still had hopes of seeing a sign of the unicorns; some sight that would give him hope and faith in the guaranteed return of the unicorn, and of the unicorn’s mate.
The sun grew hotter, continuing to pour its unrelenting heat down upon the land and, from the sand below, the relentless jibes and the occasional crash of a thrown object, reminded Noah of why God why going to bring the floods to the Earth.
The scent of a burning carcass rose up through the hot, humid air, and Noah knew that the barbaric humans were preparing a feast.
Sighing, he knew that the people from the town were going to be down beside the Ark for many, many hours to come and, from inside the Ark, Noah could hear the scared calling of the beasts and he wondered, ‘What can be done if the humans start a fire beside the Ark?’
07 - Exodus II – Death and Life
Slowing down his pace a little, Laranki was grateful to give his tired body a modest rest. He had had to run, fast, away from Noah, for fear of being seen by the group of humans. They were gathering at the rear of the Ark and he had approached to nearly within twenty body lengths from them knowing that, if just one of them had come around to the side of the Ark and had caught him off guard with one of their evil weapons, then that would have been the end of his life, and of his wife’s, surely.
Laranki had no fear of Noah, or his family, for God had instructed both himself and his wife to make their way to the Ark and they were to know that Noah and his family were friends to all animals and that they would give the unicorns sanctuary when the Great Flood came.
With the hot sun burning down ferociously upon the land, and its brightness partially blinding him, there had been occasions when he had almost stumbled and fell to the ground as he had raced away from the Ark. To fall in the sand would surely be a disaster for him. He did not like the sand, it was different from the ground in the land that he came from, and he knew that should he fall in this sea of tiny stones flecks, then there was every chance that he would not be able to get himself back onto his feet. Injury to himself he could not, and should not, be risking at this time.
Heading back toward his temporary home, a home amid rocks and crags, which served as a refuge for him and his wife to hide in this barbaric land, he began concentrating solely upon his wife and of the things that he must do for her. It was so much harder to exist here than in the plentiful forests that he and his wife had once dwelt within. It was now his sole responsibility to find all that they required in this wilderness for survival, and it was this task that was weighing heavy upon him.
It seemed so long ago that they had last had plentiful water, abundant fruit, and many vegetables. ‘We have travelled far, my wife and I, to reach this barbaric land that is so lacking in water, and now I fear that we will be too late to reach the Ark before the Great Flood arrives.’
Laranki was angry with himself for, for this was the second time he had set out to give word to Noah, to tell him of their impossible situation, and the decision that they had made together. The decision that was, ‘to not accept the safety offered by the Ark.’
They were hoping that, in the doing of this, Noah himself might devise a plan to rescue them, for they had little hope of being able to rescue themselves.
Laranki felt that he could have told Noah this time, had the crowd of humans not appeared at that particular moment but he could not have waited around the area, in case any of the humans had caught sight of him. Unicorns were not safe from the cruel desires of humans and their trophy hunting and humans, as a rule, were to be avoided at every possible occasion.
Laranki had newly discovered that he held a great dislike for the humans and wished that he and his wife had never had to make the journey to this place but, they were chosen by God, and they knew that they would do his bidding.
The thought of human monsters bolstered his speed a little, and he knew that it important that he kept his pace up until he was at least lost amongst the rocky hills and slopes. In the desert, it would be easy for him to be seen and tracked, but the rocks and slopes that he was heading toward gave him, and his wife, some protection from the prying eyes of the dreaded humans.
‘Is Soreecilor all right? I have been away from her for longer than I had wished.’
He began cursing himself for being away so long and for failing in his task of speaking with Noah. Suddenly, he was brought from his reverie by the sight of a motionless lizard lying directly in his path, its eyes locked onto some insect, some possible meal. Rearing, as he tried to swerve to avoid the lizard, Laranki saw the lizard suddenly realise the immediate danger to it, and saw it try to race out of harm’s way.
However, in instinctively running, it ran almost directly below the falling hoofs of the unicorn. The two, in trying to avoid an accident, had created one as the lizard took a glancing blow to the side of its small head.
Laranki, forcing himself to halt, sending a choking swirl of dust into the air around him, looked toward the lizard. The unfortunate creature lay upon its back, with one of its rear legs twitching as it attempted to turn itself over, to get its fragile underside away from the deadly rays of the sun. Laranki could see that the struggling was in vain, for there had been too much damage dealt to the poor, innocent creature and already Laranki could see a small amount of blood around the lizards face, as a dark patch began seeping onto the dry and thirsty sand.
Sighing deeply, Laranki stood looking down at the creature in sorrow and compassion. Flinching a little, the lizard rolled its eyes, turning them upon him. He could not understand the lizard but he could understand the eyes, with their pain, their agony, their fear... And, even as Laranki was watching the dying creature, he saw the arrival of a solitary insect that had found its way to the dying lizard.
‘Soon,’ he thought, ‘this insect will be joined by more as the scent of blood ma
kes itself known to their senses.’
In his mind's eye, he had wished he had not tried to avoid the lizard and that the lizard would have made its own escape, as he tried to picture a scene that had a more favourable outcome. Knowing that this would not help the lizard in any way, Laranki stood staring deep into the eyes of the lizard as he recalled the words that God had spoken to himself, to his wife, and to all living creatures.
“The end of all flesh is before me...” and, hearing these words again, Laranki realized that the lizard would now be saved from a greater, even more, terrifying fate.
Insects, gathering around the dying lizard, had now begun to feast and so, in a reflex action, Laranki brought up his great hoof and brought it crashing down upon the lizard’s head. Bone snapped and life rushed cleanly away. ‘The insects feast would now be a painless experience for the lizard,’ Laranki said to himself, hating his self for what he had to do.
Watching the broken body of the creature being hidden from sight by the jostling insects, Laranki thought to himself, ‘It is better this way, little one, than for you to endure the vicious bites of the insects tearing away at your very flesh and life,’ Wondering, as he did so, if it were really true.
Hearing the buzzing sounds from the wings of the tiny insects as they flew into the air and chose another place to land upon the body of the dead creature, Laranki began to walk away, with sadness and pity hanging over him, and as dark as the clouds that would come to destroy the Earth with rain.
Quickening his pace, thoughts of the unfortunate lizard had to be forgotten as his mind returned to the attentions of his wife. He was nearing the place where he had left her and so, slowing his pace, he began looking around for signs of the evil humans. He could not see any, but he knew that it did not mean that they were not there. ‘If there is one thing that life has taught it is that, whether you can see them or not, humans are all around you, they are everywhere... like a plague.’
With his eyes scouring the nearby hills and rocks as he moved onward, his eyes were trying to pierce the very rocks themselves as he sought to see through them, to see his wife on the other side, and to know that all was well with her. Beginning to fear for her safety, he thought, ‘I should not have left her.’ He began cursing himself now, as he began to race forward, his energies returned and his tiredness forgotten, because his heart commanded it so. A dust cloud was racing along behind him in the places where he ran across bare sand amongst the rocky outcrops. He was a small tornado weaving his way amidst the rocks, sand, and stones.
He should have stayed with his wife. ‘There is no need to tell Noah that we would not be turning up to seek sanctuary upon the Ark.’ he thought to himself. ‘By just not turning up, Noah would have realised that something is wrong and, perhaps, he could have come and taken us to the safety of the Great Ark.’
Approaching the last of the small, dry, pools of desert sand, he began climbing amongst the rocky slopes that littered the craggy rocks that were ahead of him. His swollen throat ached for a long drink of cooling water, as he was feeling weak, knowing that he had been hiding just how little strength he had left. He had stood for too long in the piercing heat when he had been trying to gain Noah’s attention.
Up and over the sand covered rocks he went, past the odd scrub bush and, at one point, past an abandoned wheel from one of the wooden carriages that were so often used in the desert by the humans from the villages. Clearing a small ridge, he cantered down a well-worn trail into a small, flat clearing amidst the rocks. The trail was abundant with the soft, white, silky sand that Laranki detested so much. It was awkward to move through and it slowed him greatly and progress through it used by more of his already depleted energies. Reaching the near centre of a clearing, his senses alerted him to a danger, his nostrils drawing in the air and trying to determine any recognisable scents.
He stood as quietly as possible, allowing any scents to make their selves known to him and, from somewhere amongst the scents, he recognised the one that he feared the most. His skin began to crawl as fear began caressing his bones, with his mind drawing him an image of what those smells told him. ‘There are humans nearby.’
A strange sound came to his ears, and his mind immediately began recalling visions of what had happened two days earlier, when he and Soreecilor had a pack of humans chasing them. Fortunately, the humans had given up their chase, for Laranki and Soreecilor could not have kept up their own pace for much longer. With the demise of the human’s efforts to catch them, they had slowed their pace but continuing to travel for as long as they could so they could place as much distance between themselves and their human pursuers. Walking, for as long as they could, covering a great distance, had almost caused Soreecilor to collapse. The journey was so much harder for her, for she was with child, and the child could arrive at any time, suddenly, and without warning. A child would arrive that they would love so much that they would not be able to gain their refuge upon the Great Ark, for it had been made clear that only two of each species may enter the sanctuary of the Ark itself. Continuing their journey through the mountains, always heading towards the Ark in the hope that they might find a land of plenty where they, and their child, could spend a few simple days together.
‘We could not know that there was not a land of plenty beyond the mountains that bordered our lands. We followed the directions given by God and walked into a wilderness barren of food, water, and life.’
Always seeking shelter on their journey, they often took refuge from hungry human eyes; away from deathly human wants. ‘If we had known that the child night be born before we could reach the ark, then we may have decided to remain in our forest home, and prevent the agony of travel and uncertainty.’
Attempting to return through the mountains, there was the chance that the child would be born on the return journey and, if that should happen while they crossed the mountain ranges themselves, then there would be little or no food for Soreecilor, himself, and their newborn. There would only be coldness there, and that bitter wind would surely take the life of their child.
They had no choice but to remain where they were, surviving until the Flood’s came. In his mind, he began recalling the tired face of his wife as she had urged him to keep going. ‘She had been urging me! She is so brave.’ Laranki’s heart filled with pride as he admired the heart within his wife.
Standing still, his tiredness had him thinking about things that were not to be thought about at this time, there was still the faint scent of humans in the air and he had to get back to his wife. His eyes came to rest upon an insignificant looking darkness, a shadow caused by the overhanging of a great rock creeping out from the cliff face at which he stared. His nostrils twitched, and he breathed deeply as he tried to determine what was lurking in that shadow.
Recognising the scent, he heard a whimpering cry from the shadow and forced a frantic run from his tired legs as he began running toward the source. Racing forward, forsaking any immediate danger to himself, he was heading toward the shadowed area.
‘I should not have left Soreecilor’ he told himself, again.
Cursing his self again, knowing that if the human trophy hunters were there then he had no choice but to try to save his beloved Soreecilor but even before he reached the shade and saw his wife, he could see that she was alone, crying, “Laranki, Laranki,” as she called out to him.
Stopping beside her, he could see that she was in great pain. “What is wrong, wife?” he questioned, after glancing around the immediate area for any sign of the humans.
“Time; it is time,” replied Soreecilor, her breathing deep, labouring, and guttural.
Looking dumbfounded, Laranki stood staring down at her, not understanding the hidden message in her painful reply.
“Our child! It is the time of our child,” she said, stating the obvious that Laranki had not seen due to his concern about marauding humans.
He could see her eyes fixed upon his, as she saw him struggle to take in this i
nformation. He stood there, shocked, unsure as to what he must do. His wife leaned completely over onto her side and he could clearly see that she was hot, very hot and very tired.
“Water,” she said, feebly.
In his helplessness, Laranki was grateful to Soreecilor for giving him a task to do, something that he felt he could cope with, with ease. A task that would not be bringing him anything too complicated to dwell upon for his mind was constantly pre-occupied with Noah, the Ark, and his wife’s condition, that he seemed to be having some difficulties doing tasks that should be simple.
Soreecilor spoke again, bringing Laranki’s mind back to the here and now, “Help me, Laranki, please help stop the pains…”
Nuzzling her and then giving her a forceful, but gentle nudge, Laranki was letting Soreecilor know that, in his own helpless way, he was here beside her, ready to do anything even though there was nothing that he could do for her. Staring down into Soreecilor’s deep, dark eyes, he could see the pain she was in and, looking even deeper into her eyes, he could see the love she was in.
“I need water,” Soreecilor said, adding, “Just a little. It will help me and the child.”
Realising that he had already been asked to get water, Laranki felt even more foolish, believing he was letting his wife down. ‘Concentrate,’ he thought, ‘Concentrate on what is important now!’
“I’ll be back,” said Laranki as, leaning forward he began licking his wife’s face, lapping around both her eyes and the tip of her mouth. The look in her face showed him the urgency of the request.
“Stay here,” he said, immediately feeling stupid for issuing such an order, for, ‘Where on Earth could she go in her present condition?’ he asked himself.
Racing off, heading back across the clearing, through the silky white sand and over the rocks, Laranki was pulling on his last reserves of energy to help do this one small thing for his wife. Galloping towards the waterhole, the sight of the water in his mind was all that he concentrated upon, and he used it as a lure to take him towards his precious goal, ignoring his own failing strength.
After a short time, he was approaching the two large, oval shaped rocks that told him that the water hole was not distant. It was because of this water hole that he and his wife had decided to camp in this area, but they could not camp too close to the waterhole because they knew that it would attract other creatures. Particularly, it would bring humans to it and so, with no other choice, they had found a place to hide that was far enough away from the waterhole that it should remain unobserved by casual human eyes.
It had come as a shock to them when they had reached this land for, even though they knew that their journey would be difficult, they had not expected this much hardship. The lack of water here had almost crippled their journey, as did the lack of food. Deserts, stretching endlessly, were things that both he and his wife had never even imagined to exist. ‘How could we have thought that the world was anything but fertile forests, abundant with food, rivers, lakes, and life,’ Laranki thought. Nevertheless, they had travelled here to climb aboard the Ark, the Great Ark and the sanctuary that it offered to them both. They had endured much and, for much of their journey, they had been optimistic that they would reach the Ark before Soreecilor gave birth to their child. Laranki believed that, if that could be achieved, then they all could be saved from the Great Flood that was to come.
They had feared the violent storms that became more common the further that they travelled from their forest home and, although the storms had been ferocious, they could not compare to the murderous rampage that seemed to have overtaken nearly all humans. The humans were seeking out wild beasts, killing them with no concern for their own safety. Laranki recalled Soreecilor saying, “It is as if there is something more than the humans at work in the lands.” She had said this not long after they had parted ways with the two dragons who had helped them cross the raging river, which had held them trapped by a marauding human army. Had the dragons not been able to carry them across the river then the human beasts would surely have slain them.
‘I wonder how the Dragons are faring,’ Laranki thought, ‘They are not of this world and so have not been chosen as ones who will be given sanctuary aboard the Ark. What will become of them?
Moreover, what of our travelling companions, Chart and Brand? I wonder if we shall ever see them again.’
Shaking his head, Laranki was clearing the image there that showed him the picture of the two squirrels fighting for their lives in the raging river.
‘One had dived into the raging waters to rescue the other, but I can understand their devotion for it is the same as I share with my Soreecilor, and she with me.’
For a time, Laranki had believed that they would both fall to the weapons of the cruel humans and it was only Chart and Brand who had kept their spirits up, urging them forward and insisting that, no matter what happened, they did all that they could to remain out of sight of the humans.
“There will be dragons,” Brand had said.
“Yes,” Chart, his female companion had agreed, adding, “And these Dragons will carry you to safety. We only have to remain hidden from the humans until the Dragons arrive.”
“Why will the dragons help us,” Laranki had asked.
“Because Dragons are good, that is why,” said Chart. “They were told of you a long time ago, and they will be here when the time is right. The one called Kolay’sha will ensure that you are safe, and she will be the one that will carry Soreecilor to safety.”
“How can you know the name of this Dragon,” Soreecilor asked.
“We know many things,” said Brand, “And we need to, if we are to help you.”
‘And,’ thought Laranki, ‘When the time did come, the Dragons were there to help us and, because of the bravery and courage of the one called Kolay’sha, and her companion, Shavat, we were both borne to safety. Carried away from the reaches of the evil, insidious humans and placed beyond the immediate reach of the huge human army that scoured the forests. We were, for a time, completely safe.
Leaving the Dragons behind to deal with their own war, we were so sure there was nothing that could stop us from reaching the sanctuary of the Ark. We believed that we would soon have a complete family that would have a long future together.’
That, though, was before they had discovered that Soreecilor was further through her pregnancy than they had originally believed. They could not board the Ark with a child, and they could not leave their child behind. Fate had played a cruel, twisted blow upon them.
After so many years of wanting a child of their own, their dearest wish had finally been granted, but only in the cruellest of circumstances. There had been hope of a bright and wonderful future until the humans had ruined it all. ‘The humans have ruined everything for every single living creature upon the face of the Earth for, with their evil ways, they have brought the wrath of God upon the world, and all but a chosen handful of God’s children would ever be allowed to survive the catastrophe that is ordained.’
Had they have been able to reach the Ark before the child was born, then the outcome may have been different but, unfortunately, his wife had not been able to complete the journey. The imminent birth of their child, whom Soreecilor had already named Flack, had forced them to stop, and they could not continue until the child was born. But then there would be three of them, and only two of them could ever be allowed to obtain the safety of the Ark. The family of three could not be granted permission to go aboard the Ark, and this is what they expected.
He and his wife had decided that they would spend as much time together as was possible, before the Earth was bathed in the blanket of wet destruction that was being sent forth by the will of God. It was such a cruel time for two loving parents who wanted a child of their own, having to bring that child into a world that was going to end almost at the moment of their child’s birth. Laranki was hoping, secretly, that there would be some kind of intrusion upon their destinies, continuously
hoping for a miraculous intervention that would allow the three of them to attain the safety that the Ark offered. Laranki had hopes, as he believed Soreecilor did, and he could find no pain through hoping. As he was thinking about these things he had been slowly, and cautiously, making his way toward the waterhole. It was a very dangerous place and he must be extremely careful when he sought to use it. This had been a tough lesson that he had learnt in recent days. Laranki’s fear was that the waterhole would be being used now and, to his dismay, he saw his greatest fear realised.
There were two humans at the waterhole, and with them were two of Laranki’s cousins. These cousins did not have horns upon their heads as he did, they were cousins who had been captured and used by the humans for generations. He could not wait and, beginning to bolt toward the precious water, he was praying he would be too quick for them to react to his sudden arrival in their midst. Reaching the water in a flurry of sand, he began to drink greedily at the life giving liquid, huge gulps began flowing down his arid throat; the coolness of the water was a beauty unto itself in this miserable land. Drinking fast, ready to bolt at the first rock thrown toward him, he drank heavily but no stones came and so, with his thirst sated and his mouth filled with as much water as he could carry, he raised his head, turning and ready to race away from the waterhole. Two humans stood confronting him and blocking his path and now he knew that he was not going to be able to easily run away from this place. Smelling the vile sweat coming from their ragged robes, he jerked as one of the humans began speaking.
“Here, horned horse,” said one of the humans, making small hand-moving gestures and waving his arms as he moved toward him, slowly.
Standing silent, allowing the humans to continue advancing, he saw the false, menacing smiles that were upon their faces as they looked at each other, and then back at him. Unmistakably, he detected the repulsive odour of the humans, smelling the hatred that the humans tried to hide behind their evil smiles.
Approaching to within two body lengths, the humans were startled as Laranki suddenly bolted forward, running first toward one and, as that human turned to avoid his charge, he altered direction and ran toward the second, causing him to aim wildly with the rock he held in his dirty, sweaty hand. Charging with his head held down, he knew that the humans not only regarded his horn as a great prize but also as a weapon to be feared. Swerving, once again, Laranki was counting on making his breakaway when a huge rock caught his left, rear flank and a searing, burning pain shot through him. Suddenly realising that there had been another human at the waterhole that he had not seen, he now knew that the other two had been keeping his attention while another tried to get into a position to carry out a hidden attack upon him.
Leaping from behind a boulder, this third human was before him with another rock already in his hand but, because of his closeness, Laranki reared in surprise, smashing out with his hoofs, catching the human a blow to the head. In the never-ending grief of the desert, Laranki heard the crunch of bone surrendering to sudden, immense pressure as the human fell to the sand, writhing in agony, and screaming his pain. His screams began spurring Laranki to get away but first, racing to the waterhole, he plunged his head back into the cool liquid, gulping a fresh mouthful of the precious water and then, turning from the waterhole, he began racing away; charging across the sand, he was hoping that his legs would not tire until he and Soreecilor were safe. With one human leaping from his path, as they were making their way to where the injured human lay, he careered across the sand, a moving mass that no humans would dare stand before.
It was reckless of Laranki to have tried to get more water but it was so very much required by his wife, and he knew that just a small amount was enough to make all the difference in this violent, overheated land. Running, charging across sand that tried to hold him glued to its burning surface, he knew he was not heading in the direction from which he had first approached this place. Instead, he veered to the right and began heading out into the desert, leaving the humans a wrong trail should they chose to follow him. ‘And I am sure that they will.’
With the yells of the angry humans fading into the distance, he knew the humans would have to tend to the injured one before giving chase; that is unless they chose to treat the injured human as he had treated the injured lizard. Knowing that they would be greatly angered if the human died and would undoubtedly increase their efforts in seeking him out, destroying him, and taking his horn, he continued dragging himself further into the desert.
Laranki was hoping that the human did not die and that his companions would tend to him, giving him and his wife more time to themselves and, most importantly, it would give them time for Soreecilor to have the child and then, perhaps, a chance to get away from this place. Hundreds of body lengths into the desert, Laranki changed direction, hundreds of body lengths more and then he changed direction again. This changing of direction went on until he felt that he laid a long trail that would keep the humans busy for a time and, if luck should be with him, the desert winds would hide his tracks so that the humans had no idea in which direction he had finally gone. The trail would lead the humans away from his wife.
And so, after much frantic running and shifting direction, Laranki made his own way back to the rocky area so his hoof prints would be lost to eyes that would seek them out and then, with his mouth still holding the precious water, he raced as fast as his tired body would allow, hurrying himself to his beloved wife.
Eventually, his tired and aching body half-ran, half-stumbled, into the clearing and, with shock filled eyes, Laranki saw two humans, the smell of which he recognized, making their way toward the shaded overhang in which his wife was hiding from both predators and the gruelling heat of the sun.
Anger flared through his nostrils as hatred began piercing his brain. Laranki could not believe it. The scene before him was the scene that he had tried to avoid by laying a trail out into the desert but the clever, evil humans had not followed that trail. ‘No, they had followed back along the trail of my approach to the waterhole. They had guessed that there had been another unicorn, for unicorns were seldom seen alone, and they were known to travel in pairs. They had been clever and had back-tracked and they had found Soreecilor, lying trapped and helpless, easy to capture, effortless to slay.’
With his disbelieving eyes, Laranki watched as the two humans slowly made their approach toward the shaded overhang and then he began charging forward in a hate-driven rage. The soft sand and the clenched, water filled mouth ensured his approach was a silent one for the two humans were so intent on their prize that their eyes remained constantly fixed upon the female unicorn. Reaching the first human, Laranki heard a piercing scream breaking the stillness of the hot desert air as his horn pierced the back of the human, plunging deep into the base of the evil creature’s spine. Bursting upon his face, a dark fluid burst forth from the human’s wound, startling Laranki so much that his mouth opened and the precious water fell onto the burning and arid sand.
This was another provocation added to his already venting anger and so, swinging his great head wildly and madly from side to side, he tried to throw the human sack of flesh from his face. The human body had become almost completely limp and appeared to be determined to remain fixed to Laranki’s head for the remainder of eternity and then, as Laranki’s neck muscles began tiring, with a sickening, bubbling, gurgling sound, the pathetic human body slid from his horn and onto the soft, yet brutal, sand. Continuing to shake his head wildly, he was struggling to get the humans blood from his eyes and allow him to clearly see the other deadly human that would be preparing to attack him.
Flashing across Laranki’s neck, he felt searing pain as the other human threw a rock at him and so, with the burning pain wracking his neck, Laranki threw his head at the sand. Back and forth he began swinging his great head, sending a small shower of sand particles into the air, landing upon him and drying and clotting the free running blood of the human. Another rock hit him and, jerking his h
ead up, he spun around and ran a little way off… hopefully out of reach of the human. No, another stone crashed upon him. With his legs almost buckling beneath him as the stone impacted, fiercely, against his body, Laranki felt a wave of sickness shoot though his stomach.
The remaining human was clearly confident as he was running forward towards the unicorn, throwing stones wildly, hoping that one was going to strike lucky and knock the unicorn senseless and, if that happened, then the evil human would move in to make a final kill and then, after that, Soreecilor would be at the human’s mercy, or rather, lack of mercy. Laranki could not run away, for he had more than himself to protect. He could not keep trying to move out of range of the human for, if he did, the human would surely turn his full attention toward Soreecilor once he had been driven far away or if he were rendered unconscious with a lucky blow from the stones that the angry human was raining upon him.
Perhaps, the human only wanted Laranki to run away and leave him with the prize of the other unicorn horn, the one that belonged to his wife, Soreecilor. ‘Perhaps, he thinks that I could run away and, perhaps, this human is wrong!’
Laranki knew that he was tiring rapidly, and that this small war had to be finished quickly for soon he would be totally exhausted and that would leave himself and his wife at the mercy of the human.
With the human continuing to run forward, he kept moving backwards, trying to keep a safe distance from the stones hurled by the human, Laranki was focusing all of his attention upon the human. If he lost sight of the human he knew his death would be imminent, for the human could easily climb to safety in the higher rocks and still bombard him from a place of safety.
Turning his back to the human, Laranki ran a little way away, though not so far that he could no longer hear the human’s shouting, screaming voice invading his senses. Suddenly stopping and immediately turning around, he began to run back toward the human, running hard and running fast. His energy source was a hatred for the human and so, with a maddening anger coursing through his veins, he lowered his head, lining himself up on the human figure ahead of him. Becoming suddenly silent, the human stared, stupefied, trying to comprehend what it was that the unicorn was doing.
Laranki could imagine the human saying to himself, ‘Unicorns are timid animals. Why is this one not running away? Why is it acting this way?’ Watching the human trying to run backwards, seeing him staring ahead of him in stark disbelief, watching the determined and fast advancing unicorn, Laranki thought, ‘Wild questions will be flooding your mind human, but I wonder if any will be regrets?’
Seeing horror expanding across the human’s face as he fast approached him, Laranki was hoping that the human would see the sun glinting on the trophy that he had desired so very much, and was now going to receive. Trying to push out with his hands, as if he might somehow be able to stop the charging beast, the human stopped running backwards and stared numbly at the creature he had been so confidently attacking only a few moments before. With his eyes suddenly bulging wide in open faced terror, a huge and mighty gasp raced from the human’s lungs as the great horn, which he had craved so much, rammed its way past his shaking arms into the flesh of his stomach. A long, wailing scream rang out from the human, a scream that shook the air around him, before leaving a deadly silence in the land.
The human stood, his body slumped against the unicorn’s neck and with his limp arms hanging at the sides of Laranki’s head. The unicorn had stopped his charge and was now standing still with the twitching human still embedded upon his horn. He felt the human beginning to stir, trying to get over the shock of what had just happened, and he was fully aware that the human could do no more harm to him, or his beloved wife, ever.
Laranki stood still; his breathing heavy and laboured, trying to calm his shaking muscles whilst his head and neck supported the wretched body of the human, knowing that he did not have the strength left to shake the human free. He felt the human’s hands push at him, trying to force himself back to a standing position, trying to remove his body from the his horn, he felt the human sliding back from his horn and, as the human came free, Laranki lifted his head and gazed into the eyes of the human. The human, his hands clutching his stomach trying to stem the flow of blood, looked back into the eyes of the unicorn.
Laranki sensed that the fear and hatred had left the human and he stood there for a moment, staring back at the human and as he did so, somewhere in the dark eyes of the human creature, Laranki felt he could almost see a hint of intelligence. The human tried to open his mouth to speak but could not manage to make even the smallest of sounds and then, raising one of his hands, the human began examining the blood that ran along his arm and fingers. Standing there in a dumb, mute silence, the human slowly raised his head and continued staring back into the eyes of the unicorn and then slowly, as if in a macabre dance, the human crumpled to one side and fell to the sand, rolling onto his back, his eyes remaining fixed upon the eyes of the unicorn. Laranki watched the blooding ran from the human’s mouth, and the tears running from his eyes. The air was still, though baked with the heat of the glaring sun, and yet no insect had yet sensed the blood and attempted to make their determined approach upon a meal that was surely being prepared.
Laranki moved forward, watching the wide eyes of the human trying to raise an arm to fend off another blow. Laranki, and the human, both knew that he was dying, and so he began raising a mighty hoof to bring it down upon the human’s head, to release him from his agony, just as he had done for the lizard. Laranki stopped his movement, his mind suddenly showing him a scene of where he had lost his fight against the human and what the humans had then done to his wife and their unborn child. Lowering his hoof back to the hot, burning sand, Laranki could not stop his mind thinking, ‘That is the thing I would do for a creature who I did not wish to suffer.’
Turning and walking away from the human, Laranki’s mind flashed another thought into focus, ‘Let the insects feast. And let the human live through that feast for as long as possible.’
In the heated silence, he walked toward the shadowed area beneath the rocky outcrop, and towards his alive and waiting wife.
He thought about God, and why God was destroying the Earth and all those who dwelt upon it. And he thought of his own son, or daughter, who would die because of the ways of the evil humans. ‘Let the human suffer.’
Arriving at Soreecilor’s side, and glad to be out of the glare of the sun, Laranki was saddened to see that her distress had been heightened by the events that she had witnessed as he had fought with the humans.
“You are hurt,” she cried, as he approached her.
“It is nothing. How do you feel, wife?” Laranki asked.
“Time is very near,” Soreecilor said, and Laranki could feel the nervous and frightened tones clearly evident in her voice.
“I will return for water,” he said.
“No, there is no time. I want you here with me,” said Soreecilor, and Laranki knew by her voice that her wishes could not be argued with and, knowing that he also needed much rest and would not be able to make the journey for a while to come, he nodded to indicate that he would stay with her.
Suddenly becoming aware of the intense pains pulsating through his body, he knew that the blows from the rocks were beginning to make themselves sorely felt and, as they did, a feeling of sickness came over him. His wife began licking at his face as he bent down to lick at hers. He knew that she would not enjoy the taste of human blood but hoped that, perhaps, she may derive some moisture from it.
Trying to concentrate on giving his wife attention, Laranki tried to take his mind away from his pains and of the miserable future that was their new burden. Flashes of images, showing fear in the faces of the humans that he had attacked, began racing through his mind, showing him blood and the faces of the dying humans. Bitterly, he smiled, knowing that he had taken some revenge upon the accursed creature that had brought the downfall of all the gentler beasts of this world. His legs began t
o collapse beneath him, buckling and making him sink to the sandy floor beside Soreecilor, and the tiredness creeping in on him like a huge wave crashing upon a silent shore almost seemed to make him feel as though he were drowning in this hot and barren land. He was finding it difficult to concentrate, the call of sleep and his fight against it made his mind race in violent circles, fighting to remain awake should he need to protect his wife.
Hearing and feeling her heavy breathing beside him, he began wondering if the heavy breathing was his own as it was becoming difficult to tell and, as a silent darkness descended over him, and with his wife gently repeating his name over, and over, he fell into a deep pit of relaxation whose very foundation seemed beyond his reach. In his last semi-conscious thoughts, he felt proud for having fought bravely against the evil humans and he was grateful that he had been able to stop the humans from carrying out their wicked plans. He knew that Soreecilor would be proud of him, as he fell deeply into the sleep that invaded his still struggling conscious mind.
It was a sleep troubled by dreams. Of dreams of him trying to reach Noah and his Ark, but his success being constantly thwarted by a great wave of water... a wave that would come and wash the Ark away, leaving him behind to face the wrath of the rising flood. He dreamt he stood there watching the humans throwing their rocks at him and he saw himself fall to the ground, and then remained watching as the two humans cut his throat and gouged at his skull until they had torn his horn from his body. In the background he could hear the screams and cries of Soreecilor; forever calling to him but himself forever unable to reach her! He dreamt his troubled dreams over and over and, when at last he awoke, he was very proud once again.
He was proud, but not of himself but of his wife, for she had bestowed upon him a son.
08 - Exodus III – Not All Aboard
Noah continued waiting patiently; for two more days he waited and his patience was replaced, in time, with greater anxiety. His worries were great and he feared for the lives of the unicorns.
“Where were they now? Would they get to the Ark in time?” he said aloud, hoping for a reply to come drifting upon the breeze.
With the sun falling low against the peaceful flatness of the desert sands that sprawled away to Noah’s right hand side, the sun cast beautiful shades upon the desert sand, highlighting, dark against the light, any object that rose upward from the flat barren landscape. The timid orange glow from the setting sun made the nearby rocky outcrops stand out vividly against the serene skyline and highlighted the occasional tree that fought for water in the arid sands.
A lone tree, a withered palm, became beautiful in the late evening sunlight and Noah thought about the struggle for life that the palm had followed; its endless quest to obtain the water that it needed to survive. Water that, unknown to the tree, would soon be in more abundance than any man had ever imagined.
Noah still found it hard to believe that the floods were coming. Inside, he had always hoped that mankind would change or that God would decide on another form of punishment for his disobeying children, perhaps even something that was more a warning.
‘How could this world, so full of natural beauty, be coming to an end?’
The end was only temporary, Noah knew this, but he still could not believe that humans themselves were responsible for what was to come.
Continuing to stare into the beginning of another night, into the lit up area of nature spread before him, he became aware of a cool breeze as it began to caress his face. This was the first truly cool breeze that he had felt in a very long time. In his mind's eye, he knew just what it was that the breeze was telling him. ‘It is the beginning; the beginning of the end.’
He stood there aboard the great Ark, staring at what he believed would be his final memories of this land as he knew it. Mankind had no idea of the fate that it had brought upon itself and, Noah thought, ‘Even if they did know they probably would not act any differently; such is man’s arrogance.’ With the cool breeze building up around Noah he took a shawl, draping it across his shoulders for, with the coming of night, he knew the absence of heat was sudden as the darkness began descending upon the land.
Swiftly, the land was in total night, and the rapidity of the onset was so ferocious that it startled Noah himself. With but a few stars lighting the night sky, Noah could see in the distance the lights of the nearby town. A few faints sounds were drifting from the town but Noah was not able to discern with clarity what they were. ‘Are the townspeople realising that the darkness is heralding something that has never struck the lands before?’
Noah sighed, with that very sigh holding so many things unsaid because he had no way to express them. It seemed too harsh a punishment for the whole of humankind and yet, he knew that it was right. ‘The earth must be cleansed. Mankind had brought this destruction upon himself.’
Staring long and deep into the night, he felt it grow cooler and then colder and then it eventually began to warm again, as the dawn of another day crept upon the land. Noah realised that he had remained almost frozen for an age, staring into the night and hoping for a sign of the arrival of the unicorns. ‘Had this been a normal night? It seems to have passed too quickly,’ he thought to himself.
Searching the horizon for any sign of the two unicorns, he began to grow ever more fearful as a feeling inside told him that the unicorns were not going to come to claim their rightful places upon the Ark. Still, he had hope, and he used this hope to drive his old, tired eyes, peering across the sands, looking for any sign of movement. For an age there were no movements, but his hope was strong and he remained there, high up upon the Ark, ready to spend the whole of this new day searching for any sign of the two unicorns. ‘I wonder if there is anything I could do to assist them? Would it be worth the risk of opening the Ark so close to the time of the coming flood?’
And, as the day began to take a grip upon the terrain and a new bright sun spread its heated rays across the land, it began to suddenly turn to night once again. Huge black clouds, seemingly appearing from nowhere, spread out quickly, fast obliterating the sun and bringing with them, in their wake, mighty winds that were seen to begin an assault upon the contours of the land as spirals of sand were whipped into the air, creating a connection between the land and the sky, just before being lost to the eerie blackness that fell on the land.
He watched the clouds billowing, bulging, and rolled into each other, seeming to be separate from the fast moving winds that raced all around him. Gathering strength, these winds began whipping across Noah’s face with such ferocity that he could hear the screaming of their passage as they tore across the decks of the Ark. ‘The time had finally come.’
Within the Ark, his family would also be looking out across the land to see all that they could of the land, to take their own final memories with them on their voyage to a new world.
Beginning to feel tired, after having stood for so long watching the sands, looking for the missing beasts, he knew the unicorns were almost out of time. The Ark had been ready for a long time, and the animals had become restless in their wait and now, now the time was come. This would be a difficult time for all aboard the Ark. Noah believed that he had followed Gods instructions completely regarding the construction of the Ark but, until it was tested, he could not be sure how strong the Ark really was. ‘Soon, I will have that answer.’
Noah wondered about all of the other boats that were upon the Earth. ‘Would those riding upon them also escape the wrath of God? What would God do to ensure that that the Ark, and its precious cargo, is the only refuge of the flood that is to come?’
Angrily, his thoughts returned once more to the unicorns. ‘Where were they? Why had they left it so late to come to the Ark?’
Rain began hitting Noah’s face, beginning to soak his five hundred year old beard, wetting his face with a force that he had never felt before. Building up into the howling frenzy of a raging beast, the rain was ready to assist the rain in the duties it m
ust perform. He could feel the power in the wind as it rammed against the side of the Ark, causing creaking sounds to be heard that he had never heard before, the sounds screaming above the roar of the mighty winds almost as if the Ark was fighting to be released upon the waters that were to come.
It was obvious that it was no ordinary storm that was being given birth in the heavens overhead. This was to be Mother Nature's crowning glory of what a deluge should really be like. This storm would be a demonstration of power not seen on this Earth before and, of nearly all of those that witness it, Noah knew that there will be few left behind to tell of the event. Saddened, he thought of all the innocent creatures that roamed the planet. The bees, the horses, the lions, the elephants… All of them condemned because of the evil of mankind. ‘What fears they must have, for surely they too would know that this is no ordinary storm?’
Noah had his faith, but in the face of the power that was building up before him he was still fearful for his own family and the animals that were in the Ark. ‘What if something should go wrong?’
Noah stared, sadness weighing heavily upon him, yet also relieve that the waiting was finally over. And the black clouds that came to rip the morning sky to pieces eventually wiped out all signs of the sky and the sun. It was as if the sky and the sun had never existed. It felt, to Noah, that the blackness, the whipping wind, and the perpetual rain, were all that there had ever existed for him to see. So absolute was this change in the weather, and so powerful, that it stole Noah’s memories of the way life had been before the life-destroying rains had began to arrive.
The wild, raging rain was now driving itself into the ground in the same way that Noah, and his sons, had driven the nails into the Ark. Lightning bolts lit up the sky as the clouds rolled and poured their deadly cargo upon the lands.
Then lightning came with such ferocity that Noah began to fear for his own life and made to enter the relative safety and comfort of the Ark until the world was fit to gaze upon once more. The shawl that was around him, soaking wet and weighing more because of it, began to whip in the wind and almost dragged Noah from his seat. He stood up and, as he tried to get a better grip upon the shawl, the wind took it from his grasp and flung it out over the side of the Ark, fluttering like some great bird in distress for a moment before being quickly lost from sight.
Remaining unmoving and staring in the direction of the shawl, he was startled when a mighty rumble and a blinding flash of lightning lit up the sky. Noah was able to get a brief glimpse of his shawl as it moved away from the Ark and down toward the sodden sand. And then, there, contained within a single lightning flash was another silhouette that Noah recognized. It was the silhouette of a unicorn, and Noah knew that it had to be the male called Laranki.
Staring, with the rain driving hard into his face, his eyes, and his hands, Noah could see that it was Laranki come at last.
‘But what of his chosen wife?’ Noah asked himself.
Lightning became more intense, and the darkness released its tight grip just long enough to allow Noah to see what was out there, close to the side of the Ark. Laranki was there, looking up at Noah with his mane flattened with the rain and also there, standing a little way behind him, was the female, Soreecilor. Trying to call out, his voice was lost in the wild whipping wind and raucous raptures of rain and leviathan lightning bolts, and he could only watch as Laranki walked back toward his wife and then, as Laranki stood close to her, Noah saw between them a third, smaller shape.
‘It is a young one; a new child born into the end of the world.’
Noah knew, finally, why they had not come aboard, and he could think of nothing to say to them even if his voice could be heard above the winds and rain.
Removing one hand from its steadying grip upon a well secured piece of wood, he tried to lift his arm to wave toward the unicorns but, struggling to raise his arm against the mighty winds, he realized the uselessness of the gesture. He stood there, in the wild wind and roaring rain, and waited until a huge shaft of lightning lit up the sky long enough for Noah to get a final, remembering look at the family of unicorns.
The lightning came as a fantastic light show, and Noah was able to see the unicorns turn and, sheltering the young one between the two of them, he watched as Soreecilor and Laranki struggled against the winds, heading back toward the rocks and mountains.
Noah cried, knowing no one would know because the rain had already soaked his face so thoroughly and then, suddenly, he became aware of other sounds from nearby and, after looking around and seeing nothing, he made to turn to enter the safety of the Ark. Hearing the sounds again and looking down the side of the great boat he caught a glimpse of lamps fluttering, fighting for life in the wind and rain. Leaning forward, holding fast to the wooden beams upon the side of the Ark, he stretched and peered into the darkness below and saw, within the light cast by the lightning, a small group of people. As he listened, he heard the voices of man, woman, and child, as they begged for entry upon the Ark.
‘They are no longer calling me a fool. Now, they want me to be their saviour.’
But he knew he could not be their saviour. God would not allow this, and so he remained there a little while watching them, wondering what their individual sins might be. The calling went from pleading and begging and became swearing and cursing against Noah and his family.
A larger brightness caught Noah’s attention and, through the rain, a lighting flash revealed a scene that brought horror to him. Continuing to watch, further lightning flashes revealed the scene more clearly.
‘The people are trying to start a fire beside the Ark. If they, themselves, cannot be saved from the rains, then they could see no reason for Noah and his family to be saved.’ Panic froze Noah.
‘It is unlikely that they would be able to get a fire to burn in this downpour, but if they should succeed…’
Suddenly, a huge deluge of rainwater crashed down upon Noah, almost throwing him to his feet as it went cascading down toward where the people were trying to attack the Ark. Abruptly, all flames were extinguished and, when next the lightning bolt lit the sky, Noah was able to see the people, grouped and huddled together, clinging to each other in the way they would try to cling to their lives. He thought that he could hear crying or wailing amongst them, but he could not be sure because the winds and rain had grown louder and mightier in strength, so that now the rain stung him painfully wherever it touched his unprotected skin.
Casting his gaze towards the area that he had last seen the unicorns, he waited patiently through a number of lightning bolts that lit up the sky, trying to see any sign of them, but he could not. Sadly, he realised that the unicorn’s fate was likely to be that of the ones from the town who huddled and pleaded beside the Ark.
Deciding to surrender to fate and join his family within the vessel, he knew that there was still much to be done to ensure the safety of those on board the Ark, and Noah had his own part to play in that. Turning, in indescribable sadness, fighting against the raging winds, he entered the safety and dryness of the Ark via a hatchway that he felt was going to be ripped from his grasp before he had time to secure it.
The huge trap door eventually closed heavily behind him, cutting off the downpour of rain that had charged within the Ark when he had first lifted the hatch. Securing the hatch, he listened to the violent rain trying to hammer its way into the Ark and, standing there with the rain dripping from him, he wondered of what was in store for Laranki and his family and, indeed, all the beasts of the Earth. “But I know the answer,” he signed.
Slowly descending a ladder, he made his way deep into the Ark to assist his own family as they prepared for their own ordeal. He could hear the frightened sounds and voices of many of the animals and thought it would be good to go and try to calm some of the poor, worried creatures.
And the rain hammered, hammered, and hammered down upon the Ark.
09 - Exodus IV – The Old World Dies
Standing
in the pouring rain until he was sure that Noah had seen himself and his family, Laranki had been hoping that they would still gain access to the safety of the Ark.
‘Noah has been given his instructions from God. And God’s will must be obeyed,’ Laranki acknowledged to himself, grimly.
Now, looking at his wife, he had no idea at all of where they should go or what they should do. Soreecilor, looking back at him, presented him with her big, brown eyes, filled with love whilst tinted with extreme sadness. Looking down upon his son, Flack, he wondered if he would ever have a chance to understand the world into which he had just been born.
Leaning forward, Laranki began licking Soreecilor’s face knowing, deep inside, that it was something that comforted her at times of worry.
A small, high-pitched, almost pathetic little scream, caught Laranki’s ears; it was Flack vying for a bit of attention for himself.
Laranki obliged and then, as if on cue, he and his wife began turning and walking toward the rocky outcrops and small mountains from which they had travelled to the Ark, unfortunately, in wasted hope. Now, they must find shelter for themselves and, more importantly, their newborn son.
Listening, Laranki could hear Flack scampering along behind them, his legs still weak and, his balance, ungainly. Whinnying as he tried to keep up, he was finding it very hard going in the rain-soaked sand. Keeping a pace that they felt Flack could cope with, Laranki and Soreecilor, would sometimes slow down so that Flack got a little ahead of them; but not too far that they somehow lost him in the strange, semi-darkness that was all around them. And, as the rain fell harder, Laranki was pleased to know that his son thought that it was all some kind of game.
Eventually, being crushed by the need for sleep of one so young, Flack sought a safety between his parents, beginning to walk along beside them, with in incessant rain crashing all over his young body and running down his face. His parents protected him from the fierceness of the winds and Flack was grateful for this. After a small time, he no longer felt like playing games at all. He was tired, and hungry, but his mother would not stop and let him feed. It seemed that it was urgent that they kept moving and so Flack did his very best, upon his young and unsteady legs, to keep moving; to go wherever it was that his parents were taking him.
Eventually, the three, rain soaked and shivering with cold, began to clamber amongst the rocks that were now streaming with water, and maintaining a foothold upon them required a tremendous effort. Flack was finding it the most difficult to keep his balance and, on a number of occasions, he slipped and landed in an undignified heap upon the ground. At first, he was quick to stand up again but, as his falls increased, he began to lose faith in his abilities and it was only by coaxing, and the occasional nip from one of his parents, that made him struggle back to feet.
The ground had changed so dramatically, in such a short time, and this puzzled Flack, and annoyed him because it was now harder for him to keep his balance on the slippery rocks, and the driving wind and rain hurt him and made him cold. Whinnying in annoyance sometimes his parents laughed at this and, on other occasions, he received a nip for his troubles. It was clear to Flack that they had to hurry to wherever they were going. Not knowing where it was, he was hoping that they would soon to be there and that he could rest. In every unsteady step he took, he wished that the rains would stop and that the winds would go away.
Maintaining a close vigil upon his son, Laranki and was now walking behind him, pushing him up all of the slippery rocks that Flack was struggling upon. Any shrubs, or grass growing between the rocks and boulders, were quickly gobbled up, with both Soreecilor and Laranki taking turns to chew the food up before they gave any of it to Flack. There was no shortage of drinking water, as many small pools had already formed amongst the crevices, holes, and gullies.
Shelter was their utmost priority. Shelter and protection for young Flack, a chance for the three to be together in peace for a small while which, Laranki and Soreecilor both knew, would be an uneasy and frightening time as they awaited the final end of the world that the two knew was to come.
Grateful that Flack was unaware of what was really happening around them, Laranki knew that it was far better that he did not know that his own young life would not be a life that extended into adulthood. It was better that he knew nothing until the very last moment and, between now and then, Laranki and Soreecilor would make sure that he felt the love of his parents. A love that was so powerful that it may make the end a little easier for him.
But Laranki began to wonder what would happen if they could not find any shelter, and what would happen when the water began to rise upon them. A tear came to his eye as he thought about the water rising and that it would be Flack who would be first to find it too deep to stand in. And Laranki pictured poor, young Flack, helpless, struggling for life in the torrent of water... And he could picture the Ark sailing gracefully past them, safe in the distance, safely riding upon the destruction that was being fed upon the Earth.
Laranki began to wonder if, when they reached high ground, he should push his son from a great height. It would be a terrible thing to do but would it not be better to have a quick and sudden death rather than for his son to struggle in the rising waters until the air was stolen, finally, from his young lungs? ‘Would Soreecilor let me do this? Should we all leap together?’
Shaking his head, Laranki knew that it was something that he could never do. He would struggle and fight against the inevitable until he could struggle no more. His family would remain together for as long as was possible he would fight against the odds with all of his might and with all of his heart. Crying, as these thoughts went through his troubled mind, he suddenly stamped his forelegs violently on the rain soaked ground. ‘The trouble that all these humans had caused is to be the death of my son!’ Deep inside, Laranki knew that he was glad he had killed those humans in recent days. And then, suddenly, he was not glad, for he realised that he had saved them from the terror that he and his family must now face.
With his eyes coming to rest upon Flack, he became aware that both Flack and his mother were waiting for Laranki to choose a direction for them. Moving towards his mother, Laranki watched him begin drinking deep of her warm milk. He saw his son shivering violently as the rain pummelled against him and the wind tried to blow him over. With determination, and need, Flack continued struggling against the elements, fighting to obtain a little sustenance and warmth to help him go on.
‘You are a fighter, my son, and you have already made me proud of you. I only wish that I could do something to save us all, so that you would be just as proud of your father,’ thought Laranki, allowing a small rest and giving his son more time to suckle upon his mother.
Turning her head towards Flack, Laranki saw that Soreecilor was soaking and dull except for her horn that glimmered in the dark wetness as the lightning flashed for miles around and, as she gazed at her son as he filled himself with her life giving milk, Laranki could almost read her mind thinking, ‘For how much longer can he go on?’
Beginning to walk slowly forward again, Laranki chose a path that crawled slowly upwards and towards the left. He hoped, and he prayed, that it would continue upwards for a long time, taking them away from the rising waters for as long as possible. Around him, in the darkness, he became aware of the sounds of many small waterfalls, knowing that water would be rushing down from the mountain gullies, and he prayed that none would descend upon the three of them. Faint wails from Flack caused Laranki to turn his head, and he saw that Flack was fighting to maintain his grip upon his mother’s milk. Soreecilor had started walking and this had displeased her son, for his only comfort in this cold land was being taken from him.
Laranki knew that Soreecilor knew that they had to keep moving but young Flack did not. He was tired, and unknowing of all things except for the elements that pitted themselves against him. And so on they moved, with Flack’s complaining and the rain a perpetual cloak of wetness around them, and the sky f
lashing wild and angry at the very earth itself.
Slowly, onward and upward, they continued battling against the ferocity of the rain, with the raging winds continually lashing the wet pellets at them, driving the rain harder and more painfully against their bodies. They walked and rested briefly, walked and rested a little, sometimes eating a few pieces of vegetation that they happened to come across; the vegetation that had not yet been ripped from his delicate hold in the rocks.
The wind and the rain forever continued to scream and dance around them. Knowing that they had to find shelter soon, because Laranki could see that Flack was shaking more violently now, he began praying to God, asking that they could find some shelter soon; for his own son’s sake.
Already, on two occasions, Flack had stumbled and fell and it had taken a great deal of effort to get him back onto his feet. In fact, on the second occasion, both he and Soreecilor had almost decided to lie down there, with their son, and wait there, with him, for the end. But the driving rain made it just as uncomfortable as struggling onward and, if they continued struggling onward, they might yet find some shelter, some respite from the mounting harshness of the elements, somewhere where the three could lie while they awaited the final, bitter end in peace.
Something pushed them on, but it was not hope it was faith, for there was no hope left. They believed that God may guide them to some place of temporary shelter; after all they had been the unicorns who had been specially chosen to go aboard the Ark. ‘Surely, we still hold favour with God?’ Laranki thought. And so, with no knowledge of these lands, no idea of where to travel, no known sanctuary and no safe place that would permanently preserve them from the pouring of the world’s sins, Laranki knew that they had to continue moving forward, hoping that their faith would be rewarded. The only world they really knew was the land that they had travelled from and that had been a long and arduous journey; they could never return there. They just had to keep going on and pray that shelter fell upon them during their stumbling in the dark on the rain bitten world.
Only by Laranki’s biting attacks on young Flacks hoofs and flanks, had they been able to get him up off the ground and slowly moving onward again and, thought Laranki, ‘While we are moving, there is always the chance that we might stumble across some shelter, some sanctuary…’
And still the rain continued to fall, deadly in its persistence, and in their persistent walking, within their aggravating avalanche of agonistic pain, they began to tire deeply.
Laranki knew that God was to destroy all living beasts, the only survivors being those that were given grace aboard the Ark. The Earth was to be cleansed, ready for a new beginning, and he knew that they would not, could not, be allowed to survive this cleansing but, if they could just find a place of shelter where they could lie together and be a family, then this entire struggle would not have been in vain.
A sudden gusting of wind caught Laranki and almost threw him aside, off the rock and tumbling downwards into the dark below. He stood rigid, and began cursing himself for not paying attention to the limited view of the treacherous land around him. ‘I am supposed to be trying to lead my family onward. What good would I be to them if I should fall and injure myself or be lost to them entirely?’
Glancing back downwards and across the desert he saw, within a lightning flash, a silhouette of the Ark in the distance. He could not determine if the great Ark was already afloat on a new sea or not, but he looked at it, feeling jealous of its occupants, those who had received the grace of God and had taken their rightful place upon the Ark.
And he had had that grace and had thrown it away. His mind fought a cruel battle. ‘Should we have left our son behind? Would not I and Soreecilor be able to have another child in the new land? May not our son, born in the new land, be the soul of Flack returned to us by the grace of God?’ His mind burnt, and he felt like screaming. ‘What choices do I have? What could we possibly do against these odds? I could not have left my son behind, not for any reason and, God, you knew this because you know me! So, why did you have us make this journey only to give us the child we have always wanted and then refuse us sanctuary aboard the Ark. Why? Why did you do this?’
Feeling Soreecilor’s eyes upon him, he realised that, perhaps, she had read his face and had an idea that he had been mentally shouting his anger at God. Her eyes brought calmness to him and, trying to cope with the raging questions in his mind, he thought, ‘No matter the choices we would have to make, we would not have left out precious son behind. Our new born son is the most precious thing in the world to us, and we would not be without him, not for any reward.’
Laranki began imagining that both he and his wife were an Ark, and their son was its most precious cargo. ‘Wherever we are heading, we will get him there and we will travel together.’
Knowing that this would be the decision of his wife also, he began cursing himself for wasting time upon these thoughts, as his priority was the immediate welfare of his family. With his eyes returning to the darkened way ahead, he sought to find anything that could give them shelter. They had clambered a long way up into the rocky hills, edging into the mountains themselves and, although they were not very high above the ground level, he knew that if they could find some shelter soon, then they could rest awhile before continuing their climb. ‘That is if we decide to continue climbing out of the reach of the waters, as our position appears so helpless.’
With the sound of the rain hammering along his neck, Laranki thought, ‘It feels harder because the strength of our resolve grows weak.’
Suddenly, huge bolts of lightning ripped through the sky and the following thunder drove panic into young Flack making him cower close at his mother’s side.
‘This is a strange and violent world for you, my Flack, and I can almost taste your awe and fear of the raging winds and painful rains, even though they are things that have been with you almost from the moment of your birth.’
Pausing for a few moments longer, he was allowing Soreecilor and Flack a chance to rest their aching muscles, as he was, letting them all catch their breath when, in the brightness of a single lingering, lightning flash he saw, once again, the Ark down upon what had once been the desert sand and, in that brief glimpse of the Ark, he lost a lot of his need to carry on. For, also contained in that lightning flash, he had seen that the desert sand was not there anymore, the desert land was a vast sheet of water. It was a vast plane of liquid that had lifted the immense bulk of the Ark and set it afloat, and was continuing rising slowly upward, chasing them, preparing to drown them.
Despair filtered into the hopes that Laranki was carrying but, as he thought of his wife and child, he knew he could not surrender so easily to the inevitable. They struggled on, sliding and slipping, never once seeing any other animal in the mountains. ‘Any animal that did live in the mountains is sure to know where any safe shelter is to be found. They would be safe from the driving rain for a time but,’ Laranki admitted, ‘no shelter would be enough to prevent the wrath of God from being carried out.’
Laranki began to wonder if all animals were told of the flood. ‘Did they know of their fate, or were only the chosen ones informed?’ From the moment he and his wife had been told by the voice of God, they had begun their journey but had never met any other unicorns along their trek. They had avoided all other creatures were possible, particularly the evil humans, and had journeyed forward following the instructions of God.
Sighing, Laranki’s eyes were peering ahead once more, trying to decide the direction that they should take. Ahead of him, he could see that the way began to rise steeply but, for how long it would do so, he could not be sure, for the blanket of night and driven rain hid all from his view except what he was close to. All of his choices, so far, had not provided them with any sign of shelter and he knew that Flack was beginning to suffer greatly now. ‘It is no longer a game for him anymore, he is beginning to ail.’
Even in the dim-lit storm, Laranki knew that his son was becoming m
ore and more ill with each passing moment. He was slow and silent as he followed along behind them. No cheering sounds of mischief came from his lips anymore. The joyous sounds of being born into a wonderful life had long ceased their musical lullabies, for the time for fun had long passed him. ‘His strength is spent and long used up and,’ Laranki knew, ‘his young life is almost gone.’ This was such a hard beginning to life and such a short existence of life, it made Laranki want to openly weep.
Wanting to allow himself to cry, as he knew that Soreecilor had been doing so for some time now herself, he knew that would not, he could not. ‘For, of what use am I to them if I too should break down? If some strength remains in me, then it will flow to my wife and son, and so I must keep going on. If death wishes to claim me and my family, then it would have to work very hard to succeed. I am going to fight for as long as my eyes still see, my legs still walk and my lungs still breathe!’
“There, what was that?” shouted Laranki, drawing his attention away from his thoughts, as he had cried out when he had seen something unusual, a shape, a distortion, some subtle change in their limited scenery. In that flash of lightning, he was sure he had seen a recess into the rock face, a cave perhaps, or at least some shelter from the rain and winds for a little time. Standing still, yet shaking with violent nerves, awaiting the next bolt of lightning to be able to see the exact sight he thought he had seen, hoping inside himself, ‘I pray that I was not wrong.’
Looking around, Soreecilor was aware that something had happened, but not knowing what he felt her gaze return to him, awaiting an explanation. Then, in another lightning flash, Soreecilor also saw what it was that Laranki had seen.
‘It is a cave! And we had almost gone past it in the darkness! How many other caves might we have blindly wandered by already?’ Laranki thought.
“Come, quickly,” Laranki called to his son, trying to sound encouraging and hoping to entice a final spurt of energy from his struggling child.
Flack, excited by the sound in his father’s voice, began labouring along a little quicker, with Soreecilor at his side, nuzzling him along, encouraging him with all the love that she could.
Laranki was about to run ahead when he realized the danger of it. In the dark, he may stumble or, even worse, they might get lost from one another. Using each lightning flash to guide him, he continued moving slowly forward, knowing his wife was not far behind, encouraging their son.
“Come to me, Flack,” he called out, hoping his son would hear his voice above the raging winds.
He could now see that there was a huge rock at the cave entrance, which was why the cave had not been seen until they were almost on top of it. At first, it appeared that the giant rock might block their approach to the entrance but, thankfully, Laranki saw that they would be able to walk around it, with enough of a gap between the rock face and the boulder that partially hid the cave to allow them access.
Entering the cave, Laranki was immediately shocked by the sensation of not having water pounding upon him anymore, although the noise of the wind and hammering rain outside seemed all the more deafening now that they were free of its torrential grasp. Laranki felt happier than he had felt in a life time, seeing the same look upon his wife’s face while watching Flack walking to stand beside his mother, seeking comfort and warmth but not yet able to stop his violent shivering.
Staring into Soreecilor’s eyes and her eyes returning the gaze, Laranki could see that each knew that the other was worried about young Flack. The elements had taken their toll upon him and, at a time when he should have been running around and playing in the fields and grass, smelling flowers and discovering the small creatures of their forest home, instead he was huddled, shivering, just staring blankly ahead.
Grimly, Laranki thought, ‘He must be wondering what he had been born into, and why.’
Beginning to walk deeper into the cave, he could hear Soreecilor following him slowly, calling to Flack, encouraging him painfully follow his mother. The cave angled slowly downwards and, though it was hard walking in the dark, lightning flashes from outside sometimes lit their way a little until, eventually, the cave reached an end.
‘There are no other paths; the cave simply stops going anywhere and, for the time being, so will I and my family.’
Beginning to slowly drink milk from his mother, Flack, through exhaustion, soon stopped and lay down, the shivering in his body starting to ease a little. Exchanging a knowing glance with Soreecilor, he knew that they both knew that they would not be leaving this place. And so, they too lay down, positioning their bodies close beside Flack to provide him with as much warmth as could be gleaned from their weather beaten bodies.
With the noise of the rain seeming very distant and the wind appearing to have waned a little, Laranki knew that that was not really the case. ‘The deadly cargo from the sky will continue to fall to the land until God’s work is done but, for the time that we are here in this cave, it feels further away than when we were climbing the rocks.’
Watching young Flack, he could see his son fighting against the need for sleep and losing and so, nodding toward Soreecilor in the dim, lighting lit cave, he indicated that she too should get some rest.
“We are as safe here as we can be,” he whispered, “and it is better that we sleep now so that we are awake when our son awakes, so that we can spend time with him before…”
Nodding, Soreecilor replied, “I know, and you too must get your rest because your son will want to be with a father who is awake too.”
Once Soreecilor drifted into her sleep, which did not take long for she was chased there by sheer exhaustion, Laranki allowed himself the little luxury of escaping this doomed world for a little time.
Listening to the breathing of his family, he allowed a darkness to fall over him, temporarily lifting his burdens from him.