Shadows, S Robinson [top ten ebook reader .txt] 📗

INTRODUCTION


The moon was gleaming through the dense bush, casting gloomy shadows that seemed to have a life of their own, the air was thick and humid. Condensation clung to the leaves on the trees but the large clearing below was devoid of any living thing. The trodden grass was dark and yellowing in colour. It looked relatively brittle and dry, as if all the moisture had been sucked from it. There were no flowers or shrubs to talk of. All was quiet apart from the long branches and the dead leaves rustling in the cool night breeze. On first appearance it would have seemed to be an empty space but it was not. On closer inspection there was something loitering in the bush and it was big. Two large eyes were sat, motionless, glaring intently at the clearing. The eyes were green, so bright they dazzled. Every now and then the creatures nose would lift and sniff the air, then settle back down to staring at the clearing. Whatever it was, it was there for a purpose, it was waiting for something.

Then there was another noise approaching the clearing. It sounded like something was being dragged through the bushes. Twigs were snapping under the weight of something and the rustle of the leaves was a constant cackle on the air and it was getting louder as it slowly converged on the dead void. On the edge of the clearing another set of eyes appeared. These eyes belonged to a beast petrified of this spot, the eyes were bloodshot and it looked like the animal had been crying, huge white tear marks stained it's bulky head. It stepped out into the bright moonlight and shuffled its way to the middle of the clearing. It was massive, standing at least seven feet tall on four trunk thick legs and about the same size round its middle. It was a fully grown Folip. Folip's were a native cattle in these parts and grazed in packs. They ate mainly grass, tree bark and whatever shrubbery they could find. They were extremely docile creatures. This Folip was hurt and it was bleeding badly. It had a long deep gash on its underbelly with several other minor injuries on both it's shoulders. The huge beast was in extreme pain and close to death, its yellow blood leaving a glowing trail in its wake. The green eyed beast in the opposite bush had still not moved an inch. The Folip dropped to the floor with an almighty thud, looked up to the heavens and whined in pain, defeated. The Folip knew what was waiting in the opposite bushes. Slowly, it lowered it's head and focused directly on the green eyes, after about a minute or so the green eyes started to move toward the Folip. The eyes belonged to a huge cat, it had a huge muscular, athletic body. The cat's coat was a reddish brown in colour and had a sleek almost wet look to it. It was menacing to look at, but the Folip looked totally at ease. The cat started to emanate a deep growl and in turn the Folip closed its eyes and bowed its head. The cat sat back on its haunches and spoke “ I am Kelvor, watcher of the forest and you have come to me for a safe and swift passing into the afterlife, know you this, you will not become a shadow but your spirit will live on, your blood will feed the earth and your ashes will become the air, to live on in this forest for eternity”. Then with a roar the huge cat attacked and with one strike the Folip was no more. It died instantly, no screams of surprise or shock, just gone like it never existed. “Take this offering” and the Folip's blood started to run unnaturally quick into the ground, even the remnants of blood on the cat's claws were being sucked into the undergrowth, leaving the red sparkling claws clean. What was once brittle and dry was now wet and full of life, the solid ground quenched its thirst. Insects swarmed over the earth looking to bathe in the blood bath. It was a ritual which all life knew of in the great forest. Kelvor started to back track to the edge of the opening then with a roar, the cats eyes turned from green to a deep red and the Folip's corpse was consumed in blue fire. The flames licked at the body and it started to erode until there was nothing left. The flames died away and all was quiet once more.. Kelvor had vanished, the corpse had gone and the ground was back to being a yellowing dirty dry stain in the middle of the southern plains.


CHAPTER 1


Bockley was a quiet little settlement that sat on the edge of the southern plains. The settlement's back drop was a hundred foot cliff into the deep waters of the Myoma sea, and in front lay a mass of forest. The trees curved around the settlement enforcing a boundary that nobody ever crossed. It was the perfect little haven. The atmosphere was always pleasant, even if the weather was bad the tall trees acted as a breaker and kept them all relatively safe from the elements. They never had visitors and the only trouble they encountered was if somebody had had too much to drink.

Bockley as a whole was very industrious. It farmed its own cattle and grew its own crops. The church grew fruit and vegetables within its grounds and divided it fairly between the settlers. They did however have specific groups who took to specific tasks. They had fisherman who had a very strange piece of equipment they had to use to fish from the cliff top. They had the hunters who used to leave the settlement once a week and disappear into the forest for a couple of days in the hope of bringing back fresh meat and the Folip herders, they managed the cattle. These jobs were seen as the important jobs and without them the village would fail. Another thing about this little settlement was that there was no currency, there was no need to pay or barter. If somebody needed clothing then one of the women would make something to fit, the men's fat like sausage fingers were to clumsy to navigate a needle and thread. The food was always divided fairly and if someone was hungry then there was always some meats or breads available to feast on whatever the time of day. The place functioned perfectly as a society where one persons goal in life was to help the community thrive. The men would labour all day in the blazing heat not because it was there job but because they knew other people would benefit from their hard work. The women would look after the children whilst others helped out making breads and clothes or picking fresh fruit and vegetables. The children would attend the church school a couple of days a week where they would learn to read and write and also study the history of the southern plains, but on the days they were not in school they would have chores to occupy themselves with, along with archery and swordplay. Bockley had no natural predators but it was enforced to train and learn how to wield a weapon of choice...........just in case.


Anan was three weeks into his seventeenth year and could still not comprehend all that lay before him and his lot in life,
“there must be more to life than this Dago” as he scratched his huge wolfhound behind the ear, “what do you think, am I to settle down with a lass and work the little forge for the rest of my life or do you think I might get promoted to Folip herder?”
Dago just lay there enjoying the deep scratch whilst basking in the burning sun, his jowls drooling “you ain’t even listening are you, you daft dog” Anan said with a giggle and tickled the dog's tummy. Then Anan got to his feet, he had been sat resting in the sun on the side of the water hole with a cold mayberry juice, trying to gather himself for the afternoons work . He always spent his spare time sat somewhere with his dog away from prying eyes or the torment from some of the other boys in the village. It was a week before the annual festival and everyone was busy in preparation. No one minded him as they pottered around putting tables together for the great feast and match podiums for the village games. He was about six foot tall and had huge arms for a boy his age, with the daily manual labour his body had adapted quickly and grown accordingly. He had worked in the little forge in Bockley for as long as he could remember. Moulding and bending metals for a raft of different tools and weaponry that people used to ask him for. He was different to the other settlers, his skin was paler and hair colour extremely dark in comparison to the sun kissed look of the Bockley settlers. He also belonged to no-one. He had no parents. Anan was an orphan, his mother Clara had staggered through the forest some seventeen years ago, sick and heavily pregnant, answering no questions as to how or why she came to be there. She stayed long enough to give birth, regain her strength and then surprisingly kiss her new babe goodbye and then disappeared, Anan was told she was last seen at the cliffs edge overlooking the sea, and so it was assumed she had fallen or jumped. Anan was one year old at the time and obviously could not remember any of these events. He always asked about his mother, trying to find out anything new but no one could give him anymore information as no one knew her. Anan lived in a house in the centre of the village with Magora and her daughter Sofi . Magora was the herbalist and she made all the medicines and treatments to help aid the sick. Anan and Sofi were as close as brother and sister could be. Sofi was a small blonde girl of fifteen and the brightest blue eyes, Anan doted on her , whilst he worked in the forge making whatever items he had been asked for, Sofi was being taught her letters and history with Magora indoors, or at the church, which Anan found highly amusing. Anan was home schooled and taught to read and write at an early age and he took to it, writing poetry by his fifth birthday and as he didn't take to well to the combat lessons and the other boys of his age picked on him, Magora thought it best to play to his strengths and fuel him with work to occupy his brain. Magora had also taught him the more mythical history of the southern plains. He enjoyed these lessons because they were full of magic and monsters and he could let his imagination wander to a world without boundaries and marriage. Once you reached a certain age you were expected to marry which Anan was not too keen on at all. Magora also taught him how