| Author: | Charley Blackwolf | ISBN: | 9781483598147 |
| Publisher: | BookBaby | Publication: | April 3, 2017 |
| Imprint: | BookBaby | Language: | English |
| Author: | Charley Blackwolf |
| ISBN: | 9781483598147 |
| Publisher: | BookBaby |
| Publication: | April 3, 2017 |
| Imprint: | BookBaby |
| Language: | English |
They had begun that segment of their journey in the early morning's light just before the rise of the first sun and with Billy riding Silack at an easy trot had continued their trek across the plains, stopping only for a brief rest at mid-day. The rocx alternated their pace between a walk and a trot until finally on the second day, in the late afternoon, they reached a clearly marked footpath winding its way around a series of rock-edged, table top mounds and through shallow rugged canyons that Silack said would eventually lead them to the Sandu village. Near the edge of the forest was what appeared to be an abnormality of nature. Called the Great Tree by the Merocs, the huge evergreen was nearly 25 times a man's height in diameter, reached through the clouds to tower over the surrounding forest, and cast southern shadows as far as the distant plains. Inside, in the chamber, the being was beginning to achieve a conscious state as the fluid completed draining from the tube. His mind was hazy, but through the fog but a single thought seemed to hang, "How long? How long has it been, since the last one? I'm so Hungary. Food ... it will be good to eat again." "Who ... what are you?" I have no time to explain ... This man is very important, he must not die ... cannot die. At least not yet. You and I, we must control his heart ... his will to live, to go on just a little longer. His body is badly damaged and I must get him to my home to repair it. To arrest the shock and prevent it from killing him I am going to give him an injection, an injection derived from a plant called Kallhari. It will prevent his mind from knowing he has been injured by temporarily suspending his ability to form conscious thought. You must stay in contact with his body to monitor his blood flow and to help keep his heart and lungs working ... otherwise he will die." Slowly he began to draw the circles in the sand, one inside the other, the sacred symbol that represented all in the Universe. The design that symbolized the place where his soul would go. Then quietly he began to sing his death song. At first a low whistle, a single note, then another and another, each note hanging in the heat of the air for a brief moment. He was surprised to hear the rifle echo the sounds.... Once. At first weakly. Then refining the tones it did it again and then again. He managed a brief smile thinking, "The last bit of energy from the crystal. It must have picked up the resonance of the sounds ... it too sings its death song."
They had begun that segment of their journey in the early morning's light just before the rise of the first sun and with Billy riding Silack at an easy trot had continued their trek across the plains, stopping only for a brief rest at mid-day. The rocx alternated their pace between a walk and a trot until finally on the second day, in the late afternoon, they reached a clearly marked footpath winding its way around a series of rock-edged, table top mounds and through shallow rugged canyons that Silack said would eventually lead them to the Sandu village. Near the edge of the forest was what appeared to be an abnormality of nature. Called the Great Tree by the Merocs, the huge evergreen was nearly 25 times a man's height in diameter, reached through the clouds to tower over the surrounding forest, and cast southern shadows as far as the distant plains. Inside, in the chamber, the being was beginning to achieve a conscious state as the fluid completed draining from the tube. His mind was hazy, but through the fog but a single thought seemed to hang, "How long? How long has it been, since the last one? I'm so Hungary. Food ... it will be good to eat again." "Who ... what are you?" I have no time to explain ... This man is very important, he must not die ... cannot die. At least not yet. You and I, we must control his heart ... his will to live, to go on just a little longer. His body is badly damaged and I must get him to my home to repair it. To arrest the shock and prevent it from killing him I am going to give him an injection, an injection derived from a plant called Kallhari. It will prevent his mind from knowing he has been injured by temporarily suspending his ability to form conscious thought. You must stay in contact with his body to monitor his blood flow and to help keep his heart and lungs working ... otherwise he will die." Slowly he began to draw the circles in the sand, one inside the other, the sacred symbol that represented all in the Universe. The design that symbolized the place where his soul would go. Then quietly he began to sing his death song. At first a low whistle, a single note, then another and another, each note hanging in the heat of the air for a brief moment. He was surprised to hear the rifle echo the sounds.... Once. At first weakly. Then refining the tones it did it again and then again. He managed a brief smile thinking, "The last bit of energy from the crystal. It must have picked up the resonance of the sounds ... it too sings its death song."
