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The Bearbi Stories
Wed, 05/27/2009 - 12:01 — blanier2015
INTRODUCTION
On a planet quite similar to yet quite different from our own, lightning crackled ominously, illuminating a dead forest. The trees, as if contorted into some grotesque animal, reared up, trying to grasp the heavens. The lightning shattered the silence once again, acutely portraying the inauspicious feeling of the night. It seemed evident that the weather had a sense of the malevolent deeds that would occur that night and tried to frighten every creature into its burrow. It tried to make them hide, to cower back into their holes, in an attempt to shield them from the evil that was rising.
Chapter One
In a clearing far away, a split suddenly opened in the air, as if wretched apart by an invisible hand. Lightning crackled inside the split as it slowly opened up into a dark chasm. Purple and black swirled in the chasm, illuminated by the lightning. The lone figure, Ragr, who stood by it, abruptly screamed and wrenched in agony, his whole body twitching and convulsing. Ragr`s eyes slowly glazed over and he fell to the floor with a crash. Red dust started flowing out of his body into the chasm. Ragr twitched uncontrollably as the red dust seeped out of him, a bloody river of the last of his soul. And then it stopped. All was peaceful as the chasm disappeared into thin air. Wide eyed muttering erupted from the group assembled on the forest floor. Stupefied, they had no idea what they had just witnessed and how it would affect the future of their planet. They had seen it but did not look deeper into what had happened. If they had, they might have had the slightest of sense to flee because something ever so dreadful was happening.
The first of a long chain of events had occurred, the first of a plot that was fueled by evil and greed. And if those seated on the forest floor had looked farther, farther into the night, they might have uncovered a tiny fragment of the plot that was to unfold. They might have been startled by the new pair of red eyes that gazed down at them from above. They resembled stars, but no similarity beyond that should be seen about them, for the two were as different as day and night. The eyes were as evil as could be and were filled with deep, dark, hate. Those eyes observed the thundering world below, with the windswept plains, and the wet straw huts that speckled the mountains. And those eyes were watching when a child, then only a small squealing cub, was born inside a hut. In a matter of seconds the child’s future was decided, as Ragr`s eye`s dispersed into the air. After 1,000 years, he had returned to possess a mortal. The child`s soul was out of luck.
Chapter 2
The mountains of Virlanski were known for their blizzards. The kind where the winds brought their icy grasp and the snow pounded down so heavily that in seconds, your tracks were lost behind you. The kind where you huddled around the hearth, wrapped in skins yet still rigid and frozen. The Virlanski Mountains were as inhospitable as it could get and barren, save for the occasional hut. There was no community, no settlement in these parts. Every family fared for themselves, trying to beat the odds and survive against the harsh wilderness. Only once a year would the families gather, which was when they welcomed newborns. They congregated in the valley of Shakren, a place shielded from the elements with its mountains arching over, protecting you from all sides. And it was on this day that the families walked through the rocky pass of Cashno, staring with trepidation at the boulders held in place by pebbles above. It was on this day that they gathered in the valley and lit a holy fire. They sprinkled the new baby with some of the fire`s ashes and held him up above. It was then that they named him Regy Sukshr - or the one with red eyes.
Chapter 3
Ever since that day on that lonely mountain there was something different about the cub, something not quite right. It could have been his red eyes, analyzing you with intelligence beyond his years, or maybe the serious form he maintained; he never played. He was always distant and pensive. His family was well aware of this and had many hushed discussions throughout his childhood. But still, as he grew older he stayed this way, solitary and lonely. His parents made him toys such as soldiers and mini spears, but they remained untouched as the cobwebs grew and the years passed with indifference.
Then the day came in his 12th year to bring down a Skwapén with his father and prove himself a full grown. For most boy cubs it was embarrassing if they could not bring down one of the fluffy rabbits considering that they had wrestled in the dirt, thrown/shot rocks and sticks at each other and nearly killed themselves 10 times over. But for Regy, the one who held a bow backwards, it would be an arduous, nearly impossible task. One must never jump to conclusions however, even in the most seemingly obvious of situations...
Chapter 4
The blizzard seemed to laugh at the hunters traveling through the mountains. Its servants of wind and snow pushed them back as Regy and his father attempted to traverse through the rocky passes. The air was white, like a deep fog that shrouded the mountains, an alive fog that howled and roared and swished, a fog so dense with snow it was almost the equivalent of walking through water. The weather continued to hinder Regy and his father, yet they tried to persevere, getting weaker with every step. It was rare, very rare that the weather was this bad when hunting Skwapéns.
Regy and his father held hands as they walked with their snowshoes through the freezing snow. Even with the snowshoes, their legs sunk into the snow as they slowly and lethargically trekked and trekked. Each step brought with it the dreaded fear of falling. If it happened that either of them fell, they would sink through the snow, would not be able to get up, and in minutes be covered by the blizzard. Their partner, if they were lucky enough not to be holding hands at the moment, would search blindly for them in the deep fog. Moving in circles, they could fall eventually and be uncovered by the melting snow in the spring. It happened to a few unlucky pairs each year.
That fear took control of their consciousness making them not as observant as usual. They missed many Skwapén that merrily ran by them and who came close enough to see through the fog and recognize the hooked darts that Regy and his father held in their hand. Even their rudimentary animal minds associated the darts with the killing of their brethren. Each new step with their minds corrupted with fear brought them down almost as much as the physical existence of the blizzard. As their energy drained, and their hope to find a Skwapén was just about lost, one appeared, as if out of nowhere from the fog. Even though the Skwapén noticed them, it maintained a calm demeanor and continued munching happily on lichen. He optimistically believed that nothing could surmount the foreboding boulders separating him from the hunters. He was one of the older Skwapén, and that was mainly attributed to his keen survival skills. He very rarely misjudged a predator. It happens however, that he had never seen a predator quite as astute as Regy…
To Regy`s father`s surprise, Regy spotted the Skwapén first. Even more suprisingly however, was that as soon as Regy touched the hooked dart, he started to shake and tremble. His eyes turned a deep red and rolled back. The poor rabbit never had a chance.
Chapter 5
Regy`s father no longer feared the snow, or the blizzards. He no longer feared the avalanches that were so common to this region. He feared his son. Something had changed about him. There was an unearthly air that surrounded him and a wicked smile that sliced across his face. Regy`s ears now darted and quivered, picking up every little sound around him, as if in an attempt to make up for the isolation of his adolescent years. However, the eyes were the most surprising feature. The empty eyes pulsed with vigor, for deep inside them was a spirit. If you looked through them you could see particles of red dust, floating, inside the cavern of Regy`s head. They were slowly starting to take shape into a recognizable form. Slowly but ever so surely, the particles clumped together and began to vibrate. They formed essence, a being. The particles were slowly forming thought and feeling.
The particles had learned throughout their whole existence how to control and how to subdue; how to subdue the fighting force of a mind; a mind that would break free at its captors slightest mistake. One that fought with every bit of power it could muster, but it wasn`t enough to free it from the chains of the particles. Regy`s mind was never enough to stop the particles and cast them from its shell of Regy`s body. The good in Regy`s mind was slowly falling, slowly breaking; it had no hope now, since the violence had awakened.
To Be Continued…
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