Death In The Tall Grass (Ely)

[Xnnn]

Finding himself clasped to Elymas’ chest was a bit of a surprise, though Xnnn didn’t make any sort of movement to break free. Far from it. He knew without thinking that no-one had ever hugged him like this, with the exception of his mother. And the reason for Elymas’ impulsive embrace totally eluded the Kelvic. But as the stiff arms relaxed and their bodies pressed together more comfortably, Xnnn felt that sensation in his chest growing in leaps and bounds, his whole body warming in the already stifling heat of the grasslands. His face was against Elymas’ shoulder, in the curve where it blended into his neck, and Xnnn’s well developed olfactory system breathed in the scent of the man, deeply, imprinting it on his memory. He didn’t hug Elymas back, but he did partially subside against him, feeling a comfort unlike anything he had ever known, even with his mother. Something deep inside told him that this was how things were meant to be, in the best of all possible worlds. This man should be his, and he should make Elymas the center of his world, though in concrete terms he had no idea how that was supposed to happen. Maybe the embrace was some sort of a beginning, though. His words stilled Xnnn’s fear that he was displeasing, at least for the moment, and when Elymas reassured the kelvic that he would not be departing – would not abandon him – Xnnn felt a small tremor of some base joy ripple through him. Elymas shifted and Xnnn did as well, mirroring the man’s movement, so that they ended up facing each other, Elymas still with his hands on Xnnn’s upper arms. Gazing back, as Elymas spoke and looked at him so thoughtfully, Xnnn wondered what the man was talking about. He had always been Xnnn. What else would he be called? Food on the hoof – no matter his temporary usefulness as a drone – didn’t really need a proper name, did it? But he was content to have Elymas call him anything he chose – anything. He would answer if it was in any way possible. If he heard that voice, he would come. When Elymas made his proclamation, rechristening the young man, reclaiming his own and at the same time giving him to Yahal, Xnnn could only nod dumbly. Yahal had no meaning to the kelvic. But if Elymas wished it, if Elymas wanted to gift him with a name, then Xnnn was elated. In his heart, he knew it was his job to protect – his job to watch over, to be useful, without any consideration for his own shabby, malnourished, weakened state. “Achym” He tried the new word carefully, overemphasizing the sibilant quality of the ‘ch’ blend, giving it a Zith sound, pulling his lips back a bit. But he realized his error and tried again, this time getting a bit closer to the way Elymas had pronounced it. Xnnn gave the man a small smile, then nodded. “It is a good name. Achym. Elymas . . . “ He placed his palm on the man’s chest. “And Achym . . .” His hand went to his own chest. “And Yahal.” He added the third name hurriedly, as an after thought, anxious not to leave anyone out. “Who is Yahal?” He asked, his voice curious, wondering where Elymas was hiding this other person.

[Elymas]

Elymas, whose eyes had softened during the exchange, a bit of his own guilt lessening when Xnnn so readily accepted the gift of a name, chuckled. It was a pleasant, easy sound. He reached up to ruffle Xnnn's hair and then leaned back again, so that they were more submerged in shadow. "Yahal is the god of goodness, Achym," Elymas began in an unhurried pace. He unfurled his hand and displayed his palm to Xnnn, where a strong and beautiful Y was emblazoned there. "Yahal is my god." Having served as a scribe for so many years, painstakingly copying down the words of Yahal that were already written upon the tablet of his heart, Elymas had no difficulty. How many children had he tutored like this, including his own? How many cousins and nephews had he tucked in close to him and began, just as he would with Xnnn, in the beginning? The sun was venturing past the point of discomfort in travel, and Elymas filled the time with his words. He was a good storyteller, infusing the narrative with a gentle passion that made it seem all the more true for his own belief in it. He filled Xnnn's mind with images and words that all pointed to a great deity, one who rewarded good and blessed those who served others. It was all about love and virtue, and Elymas recited the holy words in a smooth rhythm that was almost lulling. "Yahal will protect you," Elyms promised. "I have prayed for you. I will pray for you. Yahal listens, he answers, Achym."

[Xnnn]

Xnnn examined Elymas’ palm curiously, as the man began to speak of his god. Xnnn listened, entranced – but not by these tales of a being that he could not see, could not hear, could not smell. No, it was Elymas’ voice that had the Kelvic subsiding into the shade beside him, arms wrapped around knees, keeping his eyes fixed on that handsome face. Elymas’ voice was imprinting itself on Xnnn’s mind, his memory, his heart, and the words were only there to wrap around that sound. He got something of the gist of what Elymas was trying to impart, but spirituality was a completely foreign concept to him. The one thing that he grasped was that this Yahal was important to Elymas – very, very important. And his new name – Achym – meant that Elymas wanted Xnnn too to hold this being close. So in Xnnn’s mind, Yahal seemed a shadow – attached to Elymas but with no real substance. And like a shadow, where Elymas went, so too would Yahal be. Xnnn could accept that. The rest pretty much flew over his head. But he was content to sit and watch and listen, letting his eyes half close but still fully ready to spring up and run, if Elymas were to give the word. The man seemed quite happy to talk, though, and the hot sun swept through the blue sky and began to edge down towards the horizon. Elymas paused for a moment, after that affirmation that his Yahal would protect Xnnn. The Kelvic hadn’t really understood about the whole prayer thing, but he took the opportunity to ask, “Shall we pray for an antelope, Elymas? Or water? Or both?” Yahal would be a good friend to have around indeed, if Xnnn would not have to rely on his hunting skills to feed himself.

[Elymas]

At some point, Elymas had lost himself in his own voice. Yahal was such an integral part of his very existence that revisiting the stories he knew to be truth could be consuming for him. He would never forget the way it had felt to be in the direct presence of his God; to hear his voice, to know the callouses on his palms, the crinkle of his lined face. His mortal body had positively pulsed with that divine energy and even now, after so many years of hardship and misery, the mere thought of that feeling gave him a peace that made little sense. When he had finished and Achym posed such innocently erroneous questions, Elymas smiled. It was clear that the intricacy of faith, of prayer and of Yahal had eluded this strange son he had found in the desert. Elymas was not perturbed, though. These were the questions of a child, and he had faced them many times before. It was easier to explain and teach in a tent, however, with the promise of food only meters away. Here a prayer might be the difference between life and death, and how could he make it make sense to Achym that prayers did not necessarily equate to instant gratification - that a God might have a higher, sovereign plan that they were too fallible to comprehend? "We certainly could. We should." The sun was half gone already, falling quickly over the horizon. Elymas cast a concerned glance at the wound he had inflicted, ignored his twinge of guilt, and then moved to balance upon the balls of his feet. "We will pray, and I will hunt. You will rest, so that your wound will heal properly." Gentle assertion preluded Elymas lifting a hand to gently squeeze Achym's shoulder. Then he dropped his head, and spoke in a solemn, respectful, adoring sort of tone. "Grant us your favor, Yahal. We need food. We need water. We need your protection. Be with us." With that said, Elymas gave another squeeze, and then stood to adjust his clothing. "I'll be back soon," he promised, with a small smile.

[Xnnn]

Xnnn looked at Elymas with concern etched on his face. He wanted to be obedient. He didn’t want to cause Elymas any worry, or give him any reason to disapprove of him. But he felt anxious at the thought of the man leaving. It wasn’t so much a fear of being abandoned as it was a sense that his place was by Elymas’ side. He wanted to say that he would go too, but he knew in his own animalistic way that his wound would slow them down and hinder any hunting efforts. He wanted Elymas to eat. He just hoped that Yahal was a good hunter. Conflicted in mind and heart, Xnnn finally nodded, dumbly, hoping that obedience was as equally important as loyalty. As Elymas smiled reassuringly and set off, quickly disappearing into the tall grass, Xnnn curled up in a tight, miserable ball to await his return. His ears pricked up at every sound. His nose twitched with each new scent. It seemed a very, very long wait. He was tired, and the knife wound throbbed, but he did not sleep. Staying awake, and alert, he waited for the man to return.

[Elymas]

As the grass swallowed him up, Elymas began a very long, one-sided discourse with Yahal. It was something of a confessional, a purging of his self-perceived sin, as well as a cathartic release of his own fears and worries. He begged Yahal to provide for him, for them, not for the sake of his own belly but that of this strange son he had never meant to create. Just thinking those words pricked at his heart until he was aching with the misery of his present, the reprecussions of his own actions. Perhaps it had been cowardly to obey. Perhaps he should have rebelled and died. If he had, there would be at least one less scarred soul walking upon the earth beneath him. And if Xnnn, no, Achym existed, then who else might? The thought made him shudder, and so it was that his first hour or two away from where he had left the wounded kelvic was more distracted than productive. Eventually, though, he felt a bit better. Communing with his God in prayer had always settled him, centered him, and even now it was no different. He prayed for guidance, for a strong arm and keen eyesight. And then he focused. The sea of grass sported sparse game, depending on the season, and there was hardly free picking. Eventually, though, he came upon a herd animal that was isolated - meters away from the rest of the group. It was younger, less meaty than some of the bucks he could see just on the horizon. It would be plenty for the two of them, though, and he actually had a chance of felling it. Since the only weapon he possessed was the small knife he had stolen, Elymas had to carefully consider how best to approach the situation. The animal was far quicker than he could ever hope to be, and so a direct approach would be ridiculous. Ultimately, with another muttered prayer invoking any aide Yahal felt like giving, Elymas made his plan. He waited, with a tense patience, until the moment was perfect. And then, risking the loss of his only weapon in such wildlands, he loosed the knife from his grip in a forceful toss - akin to a dart. His aim, his target was not a major organ but instead the line of the graceful animal's throat. Mercifully, his aim was true. The blade that had made such a mess of Achym's thigh now lodged in the throat of the animal who attempted to cry out, but could not since he had sliced it's vocal chords. It stumbled twice, and then began to run - the compelling desire to live so innate that even in inevitable death it propelled the dumb animal onwards. Elymas ran along side it, some distance away, mostly obscured by the grass still. He was fatigued, and his limbs hardly felt as powerful as they once had. He managed to keep up, however, as his quarry was quickly bleeding to death even as it attempted escape. At last it fell. Elymas found his knees beside it and, with a gentle stroke over its head, said a prayer of thanksgiving. He dislodged his weapon, wiped the blood on the animal's fur, and heaved the beast onto his shoulders. It was heavy, and the walk would be long. Every step became an inner plea for strength. It would be most unfortunate to fall to the grass when he was so close to sustenance, not only for himself but for the one he had found to be responsible for. Twilight had given way to darkness by the time his steps, heavy and dragging, led him back to the place where he had left the kelvic. His muscles trembled, and Elymas was beginning to hear the voices of his wife and children as he trudged those last few meters towards the place where he had began. Dropping the game from his shoulders was a tremendous relief, and he crumpled beside it breathlessly. Despite his clear exhaustion, he fished out his knife and, at last, glanced up to give Achym his attention. Elymas, despite the misery of their situation, fixed the kelvic with a smile and his concern. "Well, we won't starve, anyway. How is your leg?"

[Xnnn]

It had been such a long, long wait. With ever increasing anxiety, Xnnn noted the sun completing its arc across the heavens and sinking into the grass. With the growing dusk, came the familiar chorus of insects who had stilled during the heat of the day. To his sensitive ears also came the movement and stirring of those animals who had waited out the heat and light and now ventured forth in the growing cover of the darkness. All about him the world was coming to life, but he stayed tightly coiled, listening, probing the air with his nostrils for the scent of Elymas. His human form provided far less in the way of sensory perceptions, but he could not shift. He was too weak and lacked the energy it required. Besides, Elymas had bid him to stay put, so – whatever he might detect – he would stay. Dusk became evening and evening gave way to night before he heard the dragging footsteps. His first impulse was to leap up and run towards the human. But as soon as he unbent from his position, he realized that would be quite impossible. All of his muscles had stiffened from inaction. And the wound that ran from hip to thigh screamed as his sudden movement rent the scabbing blood, and sliced muscles once more parted. With a low groan, Xnnn rested on his knees, hands pressed to his side, and sniffed. There was blood and death on the air and he knew Elymas had been successful. The scent made his stomach roil and his mouth moisten with anticipation. But he could do nothing in this weak, useless form. So he waited, hearing the effort it was costing the man to make it that last little bit. With vision completely inferior to that of his large cat eyes, Xnnn finally saw Elymas literally stumble into the small cleared space and drop to the ground. He could smell the acrid sweat and the fatigue and spent effort that washed off of the human in noxious waves. The deer was large – much larger than anything Xnnn had anticipated that Elymas would have been able to capture. Saliva pooled in his mouth and his stomach clenched, as Elymas pulled out the same knife that had earlier been jabbed into Xnnn, and put the casual question that was fraught with concern and exhaustion. Xnnn crawled forward on his knees, his hand held carefully to his wound which was now bleeding again. Reaching for the knife, he carefully took it from Elymas’ hand. “Rest. I can cut it up.” And so he could – for his tasks as a Zith slave included butchering up their meat – though generally it did not run on four hooves – not the ones Xnnn had dealt with. But he knew his way around a carcass, and Elymas seemed willing to let Xnnn work, while he himself sprawled so wearily on the ground. As he began to skin just those parts that would be food for them, in order to save dulling the knife more than was needed, he said, “The smell will attract the jackals – and perhaps others as well. Bigger ones.” In his mind, the image of a glassbeak leapt up like a terrifying nightmare. In his cougar form, Xnnn had been careful to give the fierce predators of the grasslands a very wide berth. “If we light a fire, it might keep them away. If the Zith are near, a fire will tell them something other than animals share the grass with them. They will come to see who it is. Once I have the meat, we should leave the body and move. Maybe they will fight over the remains and leave us alone.” It was very doubtful, but they could only try. He hacked off a bite size chunk of meat and shoved it in his mouth. “I must change back Elymas. I am sorry. Yahal is a good hunter.” He nodded at the bloody carcass. “I hope he is a good protector. But I need to be not a weak human. In case Yahal is not as strong as the ones that wish to eat us.”