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Prolific Writer
Join Date: Dec 2005
Gender: Male
Posts: 207
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The Fifth Horde (Pt. 2)
Part 2 coming up, I appreciate criticism.
The Fifth Horde (Part 2)
by Marshall Todt
The rag wiped the blade ceaselessly. With each stroke the faint sunlight glowed a little dimmer, and the colors of the sky darkened into the myriad of orange slowly fading to purple. Aggrig watched the sky, looking at the colors, and silently thanking the Holy Fire for such a display.
“If you keep sharpening and shining that weapon, there won’t be a blade left to hold an edge.”
“I know Bacra,” Aggrig said, starting at the sky. “Polishing can’t hurt it, especially with Warmaster Zril’s commands about blade cleaning and sharpness.”
“Those rules are true on the battlefield, hordling, and they will keep you alive in your Trial of the Hunt.”
“I wish I could take my Trial now. Once I’m considered a man I’ll have the freedom to choose what I do.”
“Free to choose to become the Chieftain’s champion perhaps.” Bacra laughed, and looked at the colors that fascinated his younger companion as they faded to black. “He won’t let you do much else, Aggrig. He realizes your potential and your respect for our ways and our honor. He was your father’s dearest friend.”
“At least champions get respect. I’m still a hordling, and because I’m a little smarter than the rest, and can actually remember the teachings of the High Priest and Warmaster, worms like Rarsh mutter behind my back.”
“Those people will always be around you, hordling. It seems incompetents manage to advance with those who actually deserve it. With a little experience, you will figure out how to deal with them.”
“Like smashing their faces into a wall?”
“That would feel good, certainly,” Bacra smiled, “but what I meant was that honor is its own reward. You’re honorable, and that’s what matters, not what others say about you or your honor.”
“You’ve been listening to Teller Crilla again, haven’t you?” Aggrig said. “I like the tale where she claims to have been a great warrior with the second horde, and died more honorably than any other, which is why she returned as a woman, proving females are the most honored.”
“Despite that tale,” Bacra chuckled, “she is still very wise and, like you, listens well.”
“Finally,” Aggrig said, as the last drip of sunlight slipped into darkness. “Now the lazy ones will wake and Warmaster will teach me a few things.”
“You’ve been up all day?” Bacra asked.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Aggrig replied. “So I came here to think.”
“About what?”
“Just a dream,” Aggrig trailed off.
“A dream’s keeping you awake?” Bacra asked. “Want to talk about it?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Come on, Aggrig. I’m your mother’s, brother’s son...practically your denmate, and an omen reader as well. It’s my duty to help you.”
“So Urgon didn’t make you a fire-tender like you thought?”
“He said I had talent, so instead of tending the fires I stare at them looking for omens. Now tell me your dream, hordling.”
“Fine, you win Oh Mighty Reader of Omens,” Aggrig said with a false bow. “There’s not much to my dream, I doubt you’ll find anything.”
“That’s for the great Reader of Omens to say, Aggrig,” Bacra smiled. “Now tell the dream.”
“Enough, seer, or I’ll leave you guessing about my dream.” Aggrig said. “When I went to sleep, everything was dark. Then in my dream, the colors started to appear. First purple, then blue, then red and orange, and finally everything was bright and warm. Then everything was plunged into dark and cold, like being underwater in the lowest stream.”
“Interesting.” Bacra muttered. “Lots of meanings can be found in the play of light and dark.”
“There’s more.” Aggrig said. “When everything went dark and cold I felt like I was drifting, and I heard something. A sound like a thousand voices talking at once.”
“What did they say?” Bacra said, interested.
“I couldn’t make it out, they were all drowning each other out.”
“Sounds like a warning.” Bacra said. “There hasn’t been on reported to the priests in forty-five winters. If you figure out what the voices say, they will probably warn you against something or tell you to prevent something. You needn’t fear this dream, hordling, but if it returns try and listen to those voices.”
“Now you know why I’m sitting here thinking about it instead of sleeping,” Aggrig said. “Don’t tell anyone about this, I don’t need other hordlings thinking I’m crazy on top of being a know-it-all.”
“Only if you sleep and if the dream comes try to hear those voices, Aggrig.” Bacra said. “I know there’s something to this dream.”
“Don’t tell Urgon either, brother.” Aggrig said. “I don’t need to give him another reason to want me as his champion. If I’m a seer as well as a champion, every tribe will pay him homage, and call him blessed by the Great Fire.”
“You should speak to him about it, Aggrig, but I respect you enough to allow you to have that decision.”
“Thank you, brother.” Aggrig said. “Now I must go and see if this blade is sharp and shined enough for the Warmaster.”
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