Legends of the Saloli: Approaching Storm

by Adam Bolander

  “The poison. Oh, I’m so sorry, Smallthorn, but it’s completely taken her over!”

  Smallthorn gasped in horror, looking down at his mate, doing battle with his best friend, “Is there anything we can do to help her?” He asked.

  “No. It’s too late for her.”

  “There must be something we can do!”

  “The only thing we can do for her is to end her suffering.”

  Smallthorn glared at his prophet, hardly able to comprehend what she had just said, “You mean kill her?” he demanded.

  “It is the only choice.”

  “No, I won’t let you!”

  “I’m sorry, Smallthorn, I know that isn’t what you want to hear, but think about it. Is this the way Newthorn would want to exist?”

  Smallthorn looked down at the fight again. Blaze was getting roughed up pretty badly, but Newthorn didn’t have a single scratch on her. Faith was right. He knew what he had to do. He began the climb back down the tree. Reaching the ground, he immediately leapt into the fight, pushing Newthorn away from Blaze. She turned to face him, then.

  “Smallthorn, no!” Blaze yelled, “She’s too strong!”

  “She’s my mate, I’m the one who has to do this,” Smallthorn insisted, “If I don’t make it, take care of Springthorn!” Knowing that there was nothing he could do, Blaze climbed up to be with Faith and Springthorn. Smallthorn stared into Newthorn’s eyes, searching for any of the love she used to look at him with. There was none. He wasn’t killing Newthorn, he realized, Newthorn was already dead.

  The thing that used to be Newthorn charged at him, her monstrous roar coming out once again. Smallthorn threw himself forward, knocking her off balance, and then scratched her on the face. Newthorn spun around, slicing a deep gash into Smallthorn’s front, right leg, making it buckle under him. She then slammed her side into him, pushing him onto his back. Wasting no time, she jumped on top of him, and dove forward with the intention of biting his throat. Smallthorn raised paws and caught her before she could, and tried to hold her up. His diminutive runt strength, though, was no match for her’s.

  “Smallthorn!” He heard Faith yell, “don’t let her bite you! Her saliva will transfer the poison to you!”

  Smallthorn caught Newthorn off guard, then, by rolling to the right, throwing her off of him. Before she could recuperate, he leapt on top of her, and lashed out with his claws. They sliced clean and true, straight through the veins in Newthorn’s throat. She ceased thrashing around, and lay still, her breathing becoming more and more ragged, then stopped altogether. Looking into her eyes, Smallthorn let out a wail of utter despair. Newthorn was dead.

  The entire tribe was silent with shock. Smallthorn did nothing. He simply stood there, looking at his fallen mate. The clouds finally relented, pouring their rain down upon the forest. Suddenly, a tiny voice interrupted the silence.

  “Mommy?” Springthorn asked. Blaze felt his heart go out to the little one. His mother had just been killed, by his own father, no less, and he didn’t have any idea what was going on. Walking over to him, Blaze used his tail to cover his eyes. Springthorn just giggled, thinking it was a game. Rust made his way over to where Smallthorn stood.

  “I’m sorry.” he said, in a quiet voice.

  “It’s not your fault.” Smallthorn replied. It was obvious that he was holding back tears.

  “If you want, we could. . .”

  “I need to be alone.” Smallthorn whimpered, before running off into the forest. Rust stood there, his head hung in shame. Faith climbed down to stand beside her chief.

  “We need to quarantine this body,” she said, “so that nobody else will get sick from it.”

  “Yes,” Rust said, “we need to hold the funeral immediately. Go get the supplies.”

  “We should wait until Smallthorn returns. He will never forgive us if we send off his mate without him being here to see her one last time. I doubt he’ll ever speak to either of us again.”

  “There was nothing we could do,” Rust argued.

  “No, but you can’t expect Smallthorn to see it like that. To him, we’re the ones in charge, the ones who let Razor’s attack happen to begin with.”

  “Blaze!” Rust called up. Blaze quickly climbed down. “You are Smallthorn’s best friend. He will need your support more than ever now. Will you give it to him?”

  “Yes, of course!”

  “Good. I think it’s best if we let him be by himself for now, though.” He raised his voice to speak to the entire tribe, “Listen up! Nobody is to go near this corpse! Newborns are to stay in their trees until after the funeral!” With that, he turned and walked back to his personal tree.

  <><><><><>

  “You were right again, Mordred!” Goliath congratulated his prophet, “That was worth seeing!”

  “I told you it would be,” Mordred agreed. The two saloli had watched the fight, and then run all the way to the evil tree.

  “I think we’ve found our ultimate weapon!” Goliath said, scooping up some of the sap in his claws.

  “My chief, I have been thinking about something.” Mordred said.

  “About what?”

  “About the Sword. I have come up with a solution to our problem, if it even turns out that that is the case. Come with me.” The blind saloli began climbing up the tree, and Goliath followed him. When they reached the top, Mordred spoke again, “Give me your paw for a moment.”

  Goliath stretched his paw out in front of his prophet. Mordred quickly pricked it with one of his claws, drawing a drop of blood.

  “What was that for?” Goliath snarled, jerking his paw away.

  “You will see.” Mordred held his claw out over the tree’s opening and shook it. The blood fell off of his claw and down into the darkness.

  For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a deafening shriek came out of the tree. It was not unlike the one the poisoned saloli in Icefire had made. The sound of flapping became clear. A dark form suddenly rose out of the Tree. It perched on the opposite edge from where the two saloli were standing and spread its massive wings.

  “Goliath,” said Mordred, smugly, “meet Phantom.”

  Epilogue

  The rest of the day passed slowly. Nobody wanted to do anything after what had just happened, it just didn’t seem appropriate. Even the, usually, incorrigible Springthorn was silent, content simply to curl up against Blaze and sleep. After speaking with Rust, Blaze had gone back into the nursery tree to take care of the little one. The poor thing still hadn’t realized what had happened. Didn’t know he would never hear his mother’s kind voice again, or curl up against her on a cold night, or. . . Blaze stopped, not able to think about it without tears coming to his eyes.

  Why couldn’t it have been me?

  The thought surprised him, but when he thought about it, he realized it was true. He really wished that he had been the one poisoned instead of Newthorn. After all, he had been the target during the attack. Newthorn never should have interfered. None of this would have happened if she’d just stayed out of the way.

  “Blaze.” someone said. He looked to see Faith standing beside him, “I need to speak to you.” When Blaze didn’t reply, she went on, “I believe I have finally figured out where that poison came from. Have you ever heard of the Dragon Tree?”

  This got Blaze’s attention, “Yes, the tree that the Dragon turned into. Are you saying that’s where the poison came from?”

  “I believe so.”

  “But. . . but the Dragon Tree’s sap turns creatures into monsters! Why didn’t it do that to Newthorn?”

  “I think it’s because she fought it. It may only transform those who embrace it. In the end, though, it still drove her mad.”

  “But, if you’re right, then that would mean the Dragon Tree is close.”

  “It would, and I believe that Goliath has found it. Probably with Mordred’s help. If that is so, then it could only mean one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Th
at the return of the Black Legion is almost upon us.”

  These words struck Blaze hard, “What can we do?” he asked.

  “Fight.” Faith responded immediately, “Saloli were the ones chosen by Valde Abbas to protect the earth against their evil, and we must hold true to that.”

  “Right,” Blaze agreed, “we’ll fight until the last of us is dead!”

  “I hope it won’t come to that,” Faith mused, “That may be why a new Sword has been created. To lead us to victory.”

  “Then we need to find him!” Blaze exclaimed, “Where do we look for someone like that?”

  “I don’t know.” The prophet responded, turning to leave, “Try within.”

  “What? What does that mean?” Blaze asked, but Faith had already turned and began climbing down the tree. Blaze, of course, recognized the words from his dream, but how could Faith know about it? Forgetting for a moment about the infant asleep at his side, Blaze stood up and walked to the trunk of the nursery tree. Instead of climbing down, though, he went up. He quickly ascended through the branches until he reached the point where the trunk fanned out into smaller branches, and he could see across almost the entire expanse of Icefire’s territory. Goliath was out there, somewhere, plotting how to further hurt Blaze’s friends.

  If it’s the last thing I do, Goliath, he thought, I will see you dead. Even if I’m not the one to do the deed, I will still dance on your grave. Every one of my friends that you hurt will only bring that much more pain on your head when I finally get to you.

  The war, the Sword, Valde Abbas, the Black Legion. This was all too much to comprehend. If Faith was right, then this was not just a war for the forest. It would be a war for the fate of the entire world. How ironic that the responsibility fell on squirrels. No, not squirrels. Saloli. Well, whatever happened, Icefire could count on his help until the very end. If not longer. Almost unrealized, his thoughts drifted towards Sunbeam. So beautiful. So pure. So kind. It would be an atrocity if something were to happen to her. No, he would die before he saw a claw be laid upon her, even if they could never be together. His love for her would take precedence over what he wished for.

  Blaze’s heart hardened. For the first time in his life, he finally realized what war truly was. It was not a spectacular fight between good and evil, where good always triumphed. War knew no good or evil. It only knew the lives that it stole from those that were in it. It was nothing like the movies Jeremy had watched as a child, where the good guys always defeated the bad guys and walked away without a scratch on them. Innocent creatures would die in this war. Were dying. Newthorn. . .

  Blaze heard his name being called from down below. Looking to the ground, he saw Rust waiting for him. Quickly scurrying down the tree, he bowed his head in respect. Rust, however, had no time for formalities, and spoke quickly.

  “Blaze, do you know anywhere that Smallthorn would go to be alone?”

  “No,” Blaze responded, “why?”

  “Because I’ve sent out three different search parties for him today. Blaze, Smallthorn is not on Icefire territory.”