The New World (The Last Delar) Read Free Page B

Loeau filling her senses with the stench of ancient death.  Loeau knows what this beast is.  It is one of the ancient warriors of the darkness, a Daboon of legend.  It stands taller than any man, its body covered with coarse black hair.  Like the trees of the forest its arms are long and powerful.  On the beast’s back poisonous spines rattle as it moves.  The beast hurls something at Loeau.  It strikes her hard, then falls and rolls into the mud.  She looks down and sees Noe's dead eye staring up at her.
    “No!” she howls.
    Loeau looks up and sees a man approaching her.  Her eyes go wide when she looks upon his face.  It's the man she saw in her dream.  He was deep within a mountain, surrounded by worshiping men and a rising fire.  There was a blade and a sacrifice, and then she saw the eyes.  He is the one, the foreigner from a distant land who possesses something ancient, dark and powerful.  The man dressed in his strange clothes kneels in front of her and Loeau can see herself in his silver helmet.  His skin is fair and his decorated facial hair gives him a look of arrogance.
    The foreigner rubs his mustache and speaks in a foreign tongue, “Be gentle, General Ush-Ka, we do not want her dead yet.  I am the new lord of these lands, Indian witch, and I am here for your …," but before he can say another word Loeau lunges forward grabbing his head with both her hands.  His memories flash before her eyes in a chaotic blur.  Clenching her teeth tightly as she deals with the pain, she lets out an exhausted grunt and releases the foreigner’s head.  They both recoil and breathe heavily, trying to regain their senses.  Drained of spirit, Loeau looks up to the moon and speaks in the tongue of the Delar.  Then there is a flash of light, and everything goes dark.
     

CHAPTER TWO
     
    The dim light of a dying fire illuminates a slumbering figure. It is a plump, homely woman who has seen many seasons come and go.  Her face is so carved by age that folds of skin conceal her eyes.  Her skin hangs loosely from her bones, and her back is bent from a lifetime of traveling.  Her name is Mia-Koda, and she is a Bruhaa of the forest.  Snoring close to her is a young forest Wicker named Tib. He lies on his back with his mouth wide open.  Tib is short and stocky and Mia-Koda often tells him, he smells of rotting fruit.  Wickers are small comparable to a child who has grown for three years.  They’re manlike in appearance, but have only one large eye centered on their foreheads.  Wickers have darkish hued skin covered in markings that change in color to reflect their mood and surroundings.  Tethered to a nearby tree sleeps a brown haired horse named Broomay.  Like Tib, Broomay has bioluminescent markings around his eyes and ears.  The horse stirs, lifting his ears into the air and listening to the night.  Twisting his head, Broomay jerks to his feet and begins stomping the ground.  The hair around his ears begins pulsing with bio-light.  Mia-Koda becomes annoyed at his unrest and shuffles over to the tree where he is tied. 
                  “Quite, horse, back to sleep!” she says half asleep.
                  Mia-Koda falls back to her bed when she sees a shadow pass overhead.  She hears the flapping of wings and the sound of talons scraping against bark. Alarmed she jumps from her bed, staff in hand. Waving her staff to see the intruder a scarlet light begins to pulse from the staffs end. She steps towards Tib and nudges him in his ribs with her foot.  The bird does not flinch at the sight of Mia-Koda but rather stands tall and proud, squawking harmonically into the night. 
                  “Wake, you lazy mound of smelly flesh! Fortunate am I to have a Wicker with such keen senses!”
    Tib goes rigid and looks around in confusion, stumbling backwards at the sight of the bird.  Wickers fear large birds and Tib begins to panic, terrified of being swept up and