Chronicles of a Prophet \ Goren Gordon

    A   .

"Morning.

At last, after a sleepless night, I could see sparkles, rays of the rising sun trying to penetrate the thick layer of leaves above me. I could hear,  many birds were woken from their natural sleep, and they greeted the morning with their beautiful voices.

Yes, it was the day. My big day.

I got up. I wanted to be the first to walk  the forest today, but as I walked quietly through the camp, I saw I was already too late.

Still, I strolled among the tall, green trees, past long, entangled bushes. I stopped at my favorite spot, sat on a broken tree trunk and began singing. Not lyrics, just music. As I sang a thanks prayer to Gutha - goddess of nature and elves, small birds flew by and sat on the branches of the near trees. Soon, I was swamped by rainbow colors of feathers, as dozens of different birds joined to my song. Their voices were pure as the wind itself and varied through all the range of notes. Our choir was beautiful and we sang together for hours. The forest was filled with wondrous music and many other animals approached us, interested in our song.

As I returned to the camp, my heart was beating, expecting stares and cheers. I was irritated at the lack of sympathy, but then I thought - 'I'm not the only important man here. The tribe mustn't stop working even for one day'. I knew it was true.

I mused 'This is my big day. I remember when the chieftain came and announced it as if it were yesterday', but then I remembered, it was yesterday. How proud my family was.

My aunt went and told the whole tribe. When I heard it, I almost fainted. 'Why me ?' I asked and my brother said 'You're qualified. You're just the right age, 52, you're highly trained in survival and you're an excellent archer'.

'Not too excellent, though' my sister quickly added 'or else we would have needed you in the camp'.

'Thanks, sis'. I went to tell all my friends and they asked me many questions, but I didn't hear them. My mind was flying, floating miles above the ground. I dreamed a lot about the land beyond. We were never allowed to go there, but, of course, we did. I only saw it once, the plains, the grass spreading forever below a clear blue sky. I heard about many men like me, who were chosen for the task. I even knew three of them. Only one has returned. 'Wait a minute' I said to myself 'He's still alive. I'll go and see him'. I ran all the way, leaving my envious friends behind. When I got to his tree I yelled 'Virgal, are you home ?'. I saw his head peeking out from behind the leaves above.

'Come on up, my lad' he said 'I've been expecting you'.

After four hours of listening to the stories about the land beyond: the view, the creatures, the wonders, from the legend himself, I said 'I will be just like you, Virgal, and I'll come home too. I won't let you down'.

I climbed down the tree and I needed to relax. I took my bow and went to my special place, my practice zone. I had spent many hours there, shooting at tree trunks. I occasionally aimed at animals which, by accident, wondered around. I never hurt them, just tease them a little. I was considered a good archer but when I aimed at the target-tree, I missed by far. I was a nervous wreck. I couldn't concentrate, so I tried the method my mentor had taught me. I imagined there was a magic-user there. I felt my anger rise. I took aim and fired. Right in the throat. My mentor told me that hitting their heart wouldn't help, only piercing their throats will render them useless, because they couldn't cast spells any more (nor breathe, for that matter.)

I practiced for a while. It was evening and I was starving when I got to my home-tree. I was restless all day long. I couldn't do my work, no one could speak to me. After dinner, I knew I needed to get some sleep so I wrestled with my friend until I couldn't breathe. I thought it would get me to sleep. I was wrong.

And there I was, the next day, still restless. But now I had something to do. I began to prepare myself, physically as well as spiritually.

First thing I had to do was to wash myself. I went to the pond, a large pool not far from our camp. When I got there I looked around me. The pond was surrounded by trees and bushes. I could barely see the reflection of the sky. As I turned to look at the far side of the pond, I saw a panther bending to drink from it. It raised its head and stare at me. I returned the stare. Our eyes were locked for a few moments and then, he slowly returned to the woods. I smiled. Before I entered, I observed my reflection upon the silent water. My faint slim body, my dark hair, my pointed ears, my hazel eyes. After an hour of cleansing myself, I went to my sacred place, to pray to Gutha. I thanked her for my good fortune and pleaded with her to give me strength.

The time came. An escort accompanied me to the central ground. I was surprised at my courage as we walked through the trees, as women and children looked at me. I was so proud. We got to the central ground and the men were waiting. The priest of Gutha walked up to me and said 'Son of Thuna, you have been chosen with the guidance of Gutha for this task. Before I debrief you on this task and its dangers, I request that you name your companion for the journey'.

Companion. Oh, by Gutha, I had forgotten all about that. As I looked at my best friends' faces, my brain was flooded with memories and thoughts.

Gilay, my friend, tall and greened haired. Strong. My favorite companion for wrestling. I had known him for a long time.

Miran, my buddy, quiet and thoughtful, but a quick learner. I loved to sit with my dark haired friend and discuss high philosophy, our goddess and our part in the world.

And last, but not least, Toomarain, Tom, my funny friend. Jokes all the time, but when needed, serious and sober.

As I looked at those yearning faces I couldn't decide. But finally the name just popped into my head. 'I choose Miran' I said. Gilay and Tom were so disappointed they could have killed me on the spot, but they didn't. I walked with Miran and we climbed after the priest to his house, above. It was an ordinary wooden house, but it was filled with holy items. Special plants were growing from the floor (which was part of the tree itself) and many forest animals visited the place. It seemed as though he understood them, as though he talked to them in their language. The minute we entered, all the animals fled from that sacred place. We sat on the floor.

'Men,' he said 'you are to embark on this great voyage. One that you almost certainly won't come back from.' We frowned.

'I know you spoke to Virgal yesterday, so I won't burden you with lectures about the dangers. All I have to say is this: All the stories you've heard about furless monsters who kill for fun, and four legged creatures that roam the plains are true. Beware of those monsters and stay alive.

'There are certain things you have to remember: Carry this tribe in your heart with pride. Keep its secrets from others and reveal them to no one. The goal of this journey you are about to embark on is to discover new knowledge, new things you can acquire and learn. And in five years, if you're still alive, come home and enrich this tribe so we can thrive.

'Two last points before you go: The first, there are other tribes, some stronger and some weaker than ours. Learn about them, men, and bring this knowledge to us. And finally, if you see a magic-user, kill it on sight. Don't let it breathe another breath or it will kill you.

'Farewell, men, and may Gutha be with you'.

The next day, packed and ready, with the blessing of the whole tribe, the journey began.

 We walked north, towards the land beyond, towards the plains. We walked in the forest for hours, silent. We just wanted to reach the plains as soon as possible. Suddenly, we heard a strange noise. We knew it couldn’t have been an animal. It was too loud. We were excited. I signaled to Miran and we separated. We each stood behind a tree, waiting for our first victim. Suddenly, someone's hand grabbed me from behind. Before I could see who it was, he took me to the floor with him. I squirmed and turned rapidly, trying to get free of his strong grip. I raised my fist, stared into his face, and laughed. 'Hi, buddy' he said 'you're getting better every day'. Miran came running. 'Miran, you lucky guy' Gilay said 'you were chosen, but I just had to come along. I wouldn't miss a trip like this for the world'.

'We're glad you're here. Let's continue. We have a long walk ahead of us'.

Night.

Our first night on this journey, away from the camp. After we built the fire, and were ready to go to sleep, Gilay said 'We should arrange a watch, three shifts'. He was right. The forest looked frightening without the protection of the camp.

'I volunteer for the first shift' Miran said.

'Then wake me up when you're tired'.

'And I'll be the last, as always' Gilay moaned offended.

We went to sleep.

After three hours, Miran woke me up. I was weary and cold. 'Your turn' he said 'Good night and don't fall asleep'.

I was alone. I revived the fire and sat by it. I thought of this journey, and I was so happy my friends were with me. After an hour or so, I got bored. I pulled out my knife, found a chunk of wood, and started to carve. I really enjoyed it. The night grew brighter and soon, it was dawn. I was still carving.

'Good morning' I heard a voice 'Is it my turn yet ?'

'Oh, sorry, I forgot to wake you up, Gilay'.

'Well, I'm not. Thanks, I had a good night sleep. I needed that, after yesterday'. We woke Miran and started to pack. 'Look what I found' Miran cried 'It must be ancient. The curves are so smooth. Look at the fingers, and the light hair covering it. Wait a minute, its and elven hand and a strong one, too. It's an ancient masterpiece'.

 'It's not quite ancient' I said 'It's only a few hours old. I carved it. And thanks for the compliment'.

 'You have something there' he said, 'a real talent.'

 We walked for several hours. The forest grew thinner and thinner. The bushes around us became lower and lower, and then vanished completely. We heard fewer birds and we could see the end of the forest. As we exited the already thin forest, we saw it. The plains were right before us, as far as the eye could see, and it could see very far. It was covered with a green coat of moistured grass, about fifteen inches high. We ran towards it, and entered it with a cry of joy. We sprinted to the slight slope upward, as the sun hit us hard from up above. We stopped, breathing hard, when we reached the end of the rise. The view that was revealed to us was spectacular. A beautiful crystal clear stream ran from a small hill to the west towards a slope in the north-east.

As we ran towards that stream, we scared off a horned, four legged creature. The poor deer, who had been eating, looked at us with a "crazy people" look and ran away. At last, real excitement.

We continued walking on the plains. We felt exposed without the protection of the forest's trees. We hunted a deer and ate it for dinner. The next day, after a five hours march, we saw movement in the distance. We all stretched our bows, ready to defend ourselves. As the moving object came near, we saw it was elvenoid. As it came nearer, we saw it was the furless creature. We saw two of them. They had a masculine look and were a bit taller than us. They moved awkwardly, as though it was hard for them to lift their bodies. Each was holding a kind of staff with a sharpened stone at its head.

'Lets kill them' said Gilay quickly 'They look dangerous'.

He was right. They looked tough. They stopped twenty yards from us. They began to speak but we didn't understand them.

'Who are you?' I asked. They didn't seem to understand us either.

'Answer us !' suddenly they said. We understood them. We were shocked. Miran paced forward and said 'We're sorry, we didn't understand you'. They looked stunned too.

'Give us your Mushka !' one said aggressively.

'We do not understand' Miran answered calmly.

'Give us your Mushka !!' he shouted and pointed at our bows.

'They want our weapons' I said 'What shall we do ?'.

'Remember what the priest said to us ?' Miran looked at me. 'Guard the tribe’s secret. We mustn't hand them our bows'.

'We'll defend ourselves' Gilay said.

'I don't want to fight' I said.

'You don't have much choice.'

The two savages were charging towards us, waving their stone axes.

We all fired our arrows at the leader. I hit him right in the heart, and Miran hit him in the stomach. He stumbled and fell, dead. The other one got to Miran. He swung his ax at Miran's head. Miran ducked. I couldn't shoot at him, I might have hit Miran. Gilay jumped at the savage, knocking him to the ground before he could hit Miran again. The ax flew from his hand. He and Gilay wrestled on the ground. I was watching the fight, helpless. Suddenly, the savage was on top of Gilay, ready to strike him. I took a dangerous shot at his head. I missed. He punched Gilay in the face, knocking him unconscious. I took aim again. This time I hit him in the shoulder. He cried in pain. Miran shot him down, ending his misery.

We treated Gilay, Miran tending his wounds with herbs from his pack. We stayed there for the rest of the day. Gilay came to in the evening.

'Thanks' Miran said to him.

'Don't mention it' he replied.

We ate what was left of the deer, and went to sleep.

'What a weapon!' I woke up to Gilay's cry. As I sat up, I saw him trying to wield a stone ax.

Miran was fast asleep.

'How do you feel ?' I asked him.

'Great. I don't know how, but I woke up this morning and felt great. No pain, no wounds.'

'Gutha must have blessed you.'

We woke Miran and continued to walk north. We marched for several days. Slowly we got accustomed to the plains, the open space and the sun's heat. We hunted small furry animals for food. Gilay practiced with his new weapon. He got better and better. Miran was quiet all the time. Gilay and I discussed the "glorious" battle from every point of view, talking about our mistakes and the advantages we had had. We made plans for our next encounter with the savages.

'Are you alright ?' I asked Miran on day six of our journey.

'Sure. The fact I was almost killed frightens me. If Gilay hadn't been there...'

'But that's what are friends for. We all watch each other's back. We make a great team'.

'Yeah, a great team' he said and walked away.

The next day Gilay spotted mass movement ahead of us. We walked slowly upward, to the top of the grassy rise we were on. Slowly, a samll valley was revealed to us and in it, near a water stream lay a tribe.

It was a tribe of a race we had never seen before. Small ugly fellows. They had round, pig-like faces and they walked funny. There were more than three hundreds of them, mostly women and children, with only a few men. They were probably off hunting. We considered the situation. To circle them would mean to walk five more miles.

'We can't just barge in and say "Hi, we want to get through"' said Miran.

'Why not, we're armed and they're not' Gilay said.

'You really want to fight them, even after the last combat ?'

'Well, maybe you're right.'

'Maybe they're friendly. Let's try to talk to them.'

'Grab Divvy' we heard from behind.

'Or maybe they'll try to talk to us'. We turned and faced ten long sticks, sharpened at the end like arrows.

'We are not looking for trouble' I said 'We just want to pass through'.

'What kind of language are you talking' the tallest creature said. I looked at Gilay and then at Miran.

'We were talking our tribal tongue before' Miran answered 'but now we're talking so you can understand'.

And they did.

They all dropped their spears in astonishment.

'You speak Poorashai talk' the leader said to Miran. The others murmured among themselves. 'The Poorashai are always welcome in our tribe, but where are your Zhunatzi?'

'We decided to leave them back home' Miran replied coolly.

They escorted us to their village.

'What, the hell, is Zhunatzi ?' Gilay asked Miran as we walked towards their camp. 'And who are we supposed to be, Poorazai ?'

'Poorashai' he corrected him 'And I haven't the slightest idea, but let's exploit this opportunity and learn more about them and this place'.

'Yes this is one of the goals of this journey' I added.

The camp was a group of small tents, made out of leather, but there were very few of them, only for the leaders. They walked us to their fire and gave us something to eat. It was disgusting. Miran talked to their leader for hours and Gilay and I walked through the small village and played with a few children. Their mothers looked at us strangely.

After about three hours we were tired so we went back to the campfire. Miran was still talking to Luratsoy, the leader.

'Where can we sleep ?' Gilay said him bluntly.

'Where you always sleep, Poorashi' he replied 'Why do you ask ?'

'Why can't we sleep in your tent ?' he pointed towards their "house".

Luratsoy looked at him queerly and Miran quickly interrupted the conversation, 'I apologize for the Poorashi's behavior' he said 'We will sleep where we always do'.

Luratsoy nodded and went to this tent.

'That was close' Miran said as we exited the camp.

'What are you talking about ?' I asked

'Yeah, and why can't we sleep in a tent ?'

'They think we are some kind of travelers, who wander through this area and throughout the whole world, and bring updates of current events, battles between other tribes. That's why when I asked him about this tribe and his surroundings, he was so eager to tell me'.

'And what have you learned ?'

'First, I learned more about ourselves, or what we're supposed to be. We are supposed to ride four legged animals, called "Zhunatzi"'.

'Is it the same kind of animal we ate ?'

'No. It's white and hornless. It's supposed to be holy, magical, blessed by ... he called it Naru'.

'He must have meant Gutha'.

'No, I don't think so. I told him about Gutha, what she looks like- beautiful and elvenoid, like ourselves, but he laughed and said that Naru was the wind itself, fast and strong. He brought some kind of priest who did magic. First I thought he was a magic-user, but then I saw he drew his power from the wind itself. He strengthened the fire and brought a cool breeze upon us. I think it was another kind of force, maybe even another deity'.

'Never', Gilay cried 'Gutha is the only Goddess, and if you say that again, she will kill you for blasphemy'.

'I cannot explain it otherwise'. And at that it ended. We went to sleep.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of speech. I saw Luratsoy staring at us and talking, but I couldn't understand him. He seemed annoyed. I woke Gilay, but he didn't understand him, either. Suddenly, as before, we knew his language.

'What are you still doing here ?' he asked.

'We just woke up' I said.

'You Poorashai are usually gone by this time a day' he said. 'You don't look like Poorashai, and you don't have Zhunatsi'.

'But we are Poorashai' Miran said from behind us. 'We speak their language'.

'Then tell us knowledge of other tribes' he demanded.

'First, we get organized, then we talk' Miran said aggressively.

Luratsoy agreed and went to the camp.

'We have to run away' Miran said to us with a panic look on his face.

'Why? You said they respect us !' Gilay asked

'They're starting to suspect we're not their Poorashai' he said. 'If that is proven, they will kill us on the spot'.

We were convinced. We packed all of our possessions quickly and began to walk away from the camp, eastward. After half an hour we saw a search party going out after us. We began running. We ran for almost three hours, and we were faster, so we lost them. We were tired, so we decided to camp for the day. We walked eastward for four days. The land grew less and less green and the brown earth beneath it was seen in small patches more frequently.

    B    .

On the fifth day after our getaway from the goblin camp, I was walking beside Miran, discussing with him about the possibility of other gods. Gilay was walking five yards from us, praying for Gutha to forgive us. Suddenly, we heard a cry. We turned around, bows in our hands. Gilay was gone, vanished into the thin air. Miran and I started to look for him. We shouted and shouted but there was no answer. Miran looked at me, and then he stared at the ground. I couldn't see what he was looking at, but he bent down over the grass and examined it carefully. Then he grabbed me and turned me around. I tried to turn back but his grip was firm. Then he pushed me, and everything went black. I felt as if I was falling, slowly, but I couldn't see a thing. Then I saw a flicker of light above me. Miran was following me and he was holding a torch. He changed his position and he fell faster. He was at my level, when, with his light, I could see we were in a vast cave. And then we saw it. Hundreds of glowing yellow eyes flew swiftly towards us. As they entered the light sphere we saw what they were. Small, black creatures with strange wings and sharp fangs, and the bats knew very well how to use them. They bit us over and over again and our elven cries echoed in the enormous space of the cave. But as quickly as they came, they went away. We saw we were falling towards a hole in the ground. We tried to steer ourselves, but couldn't. We entered the hole... and there was sunlight. As our eyes adjusted to the light, we saw we were floating downward, towards a city. After a minute, we touched the ground. We saw Gilay lying there, bones crushed, blood everywhere. We run towards him. Miran checked him over.

He was alive, barely.

'He must have fallen fast, unlike us' said Miran while getting out his herb pouch.

'Why didn't he float like us ?' I shouted and almost cried. I held his head while Miran took care of him. He bandaged his wounds, and gave him some kind of potion. Gilay was still unconscious and we didn't know if he would live.

 While we waited to see the results of Miran's treatment, I looked around. It was strange. We had fallen for almost half an hour into the ground but there was sky here, and a sun. As I looked around us I saw we were just next to a... thing. I never saw anything like that. Thousands of rocks, huge rocks, one on top of each other. It was huge, about ten yards high. Miran stayed with Gilay, who was still resting, and I went to look for some water. I marched near the wall until I got to a wooden object that was in the wall. I examined it and saw it was constructed from two parts. I looked for a way to move them. I saw a trail, a wide road I was standing on. It began with the wooden object and continued till the horizon. I began to walk it and suddenly, the wooden gate opened. I turned around and at the sight revealed to me, all thoughts of anything else vanished.

I faced a road made of specifically shaped stones. On each side of the road, huge stone objects stood, with openings of wood. Tens of these stone objects were on each side, but the street and these houses didn't frighten me. The creatures who walked them did.

At the gate stood two skeletons, standing bones of elvenoid creatures. No flesh, no muscles, just bones. I stared into their empty eye sockets, and I knew these things were alive. They walked towards me and I wanted to scream but I couldn't.

'Welcome to our city, flesh traveler' said one of the skeletons. He had a mild voice and I knew not where it came from. His jaw bones moved but he had no tongue, no throat.

'Where are your two companions ?' the other asked. Then I remembered Gilay's condition.

'Please come' I said 'one of them is in great need of help.' I walked them to Miran and Gilay. Miran was speechless. He was terrified. One of them looked at him, tilted its skull, and then nodded. The other went for the unconscious Gilay. It put its palm on Gilay's chest and said 'He won't survive the day. He is suffering and he has no chance to survive'. It began to murmur strange words.

'NO!!!' Miran cried and fell to the ground, weeping. I extracted my bow, for the thing used magic, but then I heard the skeleton say:

 'Take his suffering body, Nuret of Death. Keep his spirit alive, Valan of the Living and stop his aching, Tullar of Joy'.

'These are other gods' my thoughts raced through my mind 'Like Naru of the goblins. But they have so many of them, Why ?'

I lowered my bow. He was not a magic-user, he was a believer.

There was a wisp of sadness in the air. As the skeleton completed his prayer, black spots filled Gilay's body. Slowly, I knew, their God of Death took his body. I cried, but done nothing. Gilay was already dead. When only his bones remained, blue images of angels appeared, assembled his broken bones into a standing skeleton. I was astonished. Gilay was alive again, in the form of an undead. As he looked at me, yellow rays of light struck him and reflected to Miran and me. Miran stood up, and smiled. Gilay's skeleton walked towards us, and embraced us.

'Hey, cheer up' it said with Gilay's voice. 'I'm not dead yet, just transformed.'

We stared at it and it stared at us back. It wasn't as scary as it might have been. We knew him.

'We must go into the city' one of the skeletons said. Gilay nodded and went with them. We stood there and watched them go. Midway, Gilay turned and said 'You can come too. It's a dead city, but everyone is welcome.' We hesitated. Miran looked at me and said 'Why not ? After a day like this, I need a rest.'

We entered the city. As we walked down the street, accompanied by Gilay's skeleton, many skeletons looked at us. Oddly enough, it didn't feel strange walking among them.

Gilay walked us to a stone house. He felt right at home. We hesitated before entering the building. In it were chairs and tables and two heighten mattresses. They were all made out of wood. Inside the brick building we felt enclosed. Although we lived in homes, too, this one was cold and ... dead.

'You'll sleep here' Gilay said.

'Are you alright ?' Miran asked him. 'How do you feel ?'

'Great' he said 'Like I've been dead all my life.'

'I'm sorry' I said to him, tears dripping from my eyes.

 'Don't be. This is my home now and I'm happy' he said and, somehow, he did look happy. 'I have to go, so get some rest and we'll roam the town later.'

'He seems happy' I said to Miran before we went to sleep.

'It's good to have a god of joy' he said, and we laughed, taking out all of the day's frustration.

The next day, Gilay came and took us on a tour throughout the town. The first place we went was a strange place he called 'Market'. Many carts were resting on the platform in the center of the square. Behind each cart stood a skeleton which sold household items like candles and brushes. Other undeads arrived with their own items and they made an exchange. Gilay told us this was known as 'Trade'. An incredible thought crossed my mind but before I could explore it, something ran to us and screamed:

'Finally, some normal friends.' It was a short creature who said it, and ironically surprising, he had flesh. Short brown hair covered his body, like us, and he had agility, too.

'Hi, I'm Giwilom' he introduced himself. 'How come you're not dead ?' He asked, and it sounded funny.

'We floated slowly downward from the shaft 'till here' said Miran 'What about you?'

'I'm too light. I fell like a feather' he replied 'You know, every single one of these things, ' he pointed towards the skeletons, and they looked offended 'came through the hole in the ground. I heard tons of stories about who built this city.'

'Can't they get out of this place ?' I asked.

'First thing, I don't think they want to' he said. 'They're happy, and I don't think the fellows up there are going to welcome them with open arms.'

'You're right' Miran said. 'How long have you been here ?'

'Oh, about three years.'

'And you never tried to get back ?'

'Frankly, I don't know how, but this is a fun place. These skeletons really know how to have fun. I even considered becoming one, but one of them told me I won't be able to enter this city if I did.'

We continued to talk as we walked through  the city.

 As we walked the main street, we saw a huge building. I was very impressive. On it were decorations made of several strange colorful components that reflected the sun's rays. Those decorations were unique symbols that represented something unknown to us.

'That's the church' Giwilom said. 'Everyone who come here bring his own deity. Many can't believe at first how many gods are there. I know I didn't.'

'Me too' Gilay said.

'It seems every tribe has its own god or goddess, and everyone believes his are the one, but here, it's not true.'

'Maybe it's not true outside too...' I said quietly to myself.

We continued to walk and we met many interesting 'people'.

At the end of the day we went home.

We stayed at the skeleton city for ten days. It was fascinating. Miran was very interested in the various deities and spent hours at the church in listening and learning. Giwilom and I went to the market many times and we acquired many new (dead) friends. The concept of trade fascinated me.

After ten days, I told Miran 'I want to return to our world, I want to explore it more.'

'I agree' he said, 'but how do we get back ?'

'Let's talk to the head of the city.' And we did.

The next day we went to his house and presented our request.

'I cannot allow anyone who had seen this city return to his world' he said. 'No one must know of this place and its secrets. The minute someone from the outside will hear about the city, he will come and attack us. We know the world outside, we've been there.'

'Maybe I can help' I said. 'I've learned a lot about this place and its so called secrets of trade and cooperation. I think that if we take this idea and implement it on the outside, it will work as wonderfully as it has worked here.'

'It's an interesting idea' he said.

'And it will work' I insisted. 'In the journey from our tribe we, already, killed creatures just to defend our secrets, but if we could cooperate, we will thrive.'

'Maybe you're right, but what of this place ?'

'We will tell no one of this place until they are ready. When the tribes will  learn to work together, they will be happy to meet you and to trade with you.'

'It can work' he said  eagerly. 'I grant you leave, only if you swear not to tell anyone about us until we agree.'

'By Gutha, we swear' Miran and I swore.

'As Willivoma is my witness, I swear' Giwilom swore, too.

'When do you want to leave ?' he asked.

'Tomorrow.'

The rest of the day we said good-bye to our undead friends. Giwilom was so excited he would come with us, he didn't want to leave us alone for a second. The next day, Gilay escorted us to the mayor's house.

'Take care' I said.

'When you turn to our tribe, tell them I'm fine' he requested.

'We will' Miran promised. As we entered the mayor's house, I could almost see Gilay cry.

We went into the building and the skeletal mayor said 'It will take an hour or so. Last advice: If you want to start your journey toward cooperation, go north, to the hills. There you'll find a tribe that already began this new path. Good luck.'

He led us to the top of the building. We thanked him and he started his prayer. We started to rise into the air. Slowly we headed towards the sun above us. We almost reached the clouds when, suddenly, everything turned black. We were in the cave and as before Miran and I were the only ones there. Gilay wasn't with us. Only we reached our world again. I felt as though what had happened that fatal day was happening again, only in reverse.

As we marched north, we learned more about Giwilom. He came from a large tribe that lived in the hills to the east. One day he just longed for adventure so he packed his things and left. He told us  what he saw  on his way until he fell to the dead city: Huge herds of four legged animals he called "horses". According to his descriptions, they resembled the "Zhunatsi", but their color was different. He said the horses where a mix of brown, black and gray - never white. On his way west, he encountered a strange tribe of elflike creatures. He sneaked into their camp only to find out they were violent, ferocious fighters. Once he saw them kill one another in a fight, for fun. Miran and I stared at each other as we remembered the stories from our tribe chieftain. When we told him about the goblin's Poorashai, he said he had seen one in the 'orcs' camp (that's the name he called those evil creatures.) He also said they looked mysterious and dangerous for no orc dared harm them.

After a week, we saw fast movement of three creatures approach us. As they got closer we saw they were savages riding on horses. They were fearsome, but they didn't act as awkwardly and clumsily as the savages we met before. They moved gracefully on the horses, as though they were part of it. They approached us cautiously while holding their wooden spears. Miran pulled his bow and took aim, but I stopped him.

'I want to talk with them,' I said. 'Have you ever seen anything like this before ?' I asked Giwilom.

'No. Not this combination.'

They stopped twenty yards from us. When they talked to us and I didn't understand them, I was not surprised. I waited a minute and then I did (I still didn't know how.)

'We want to talk' I shouted to them. ‘I will come to you without my weapons.' I dropped my bow and knives. One dismounted and came to me. We met midway.

'We do not want to fight you' he said.

'Neither do we' I replied 'I want to suggest an agreement' I said. He looked at me, puzzled.

'We have bows' I said pointing at my bow. 'They are efficient weapon for hunting. More than your spears. We would be glad to give them to you and teach you how to use them.' At that, he really looked puzzled.

'Why ?' he simply asked.

'You have horses and you know how to ride them' I said. 'We would like you to teach us, too.'

'Wait here,' he said and retreated to the others. I looked back, at Miran who mouthed 'What's happening ?'

'We will trade with them' I mouthed him back.

The human returned and said 'We will go to our tribe and will talk to the chief. You will come with us.' I nodded. I went to Miran and Giwilom and informed them of what had happened.

'We shouldn't give them our bows. Remember what the chieftain said ?'

'That's the only thing we have to trade' I answered him.

'I don't like this. They could be leading us into a trap' Miran said.

'We have to take chances if we want cooperation.'

'You mean, I could ride on horses. Wow!' Giwilom was enthusiastic. 'Wait 'till my mom will hear about this.'

One of the humans galloped towards their camp. The other two rode slowly with us and guided us to the camp. I tried to begin a conversation with them, but they remained quite all the way.

As we approached their camp, we saw they lived in tents too, like the goblins, but the tents were larger, of course. The amazing thing about it was that a herd of horses rested constantly near their camp. Dozens of brown, black and gray horses pastured at the meadow near a brook. Some were running wildly over the plains, showing their majestic muscles in motion. The sight was spectacular.

When we entered the camp, the humans stared at us. Our guide took us directly to the chief's tent. We entered it and saw a human, covered with animal's furs. As he looked at us, we saw he was a she. She was an old human, with wrinkles of worry and responsibility that were carved to her skin over the years. She had emerald eyes that pierced into one's soul as though scanning it to find any ill will. Although her age, we saw the chief still had her strength. She gestured with her hands that we sit and we did.

'My scout informed me you like to learn how to ride our horses' she said with a perfectly clear voice. 'Why should we teach you ?'

'We offer in return to teach you how to use our bows' I answered. 'It's a powerful weapon for hunting, as well as for fighting. I would like to demonstrate its efficiency.' She agreed and rose to her feet. We walked outside. Ten guards escorted the chief outside the camp. Miran and I took our bows, aimed at some birds who passed by and shot. I hit one, but Miran missed. The bird dropped to the ground and Giwilom brought it to us. I presented the prey to the chief. She didn't look impressed.

'This weapon needs a lot of practice' I said 'and I offer myself as a teacher.'

The chief talked to one of her guards and went. He said to us 'The chief will decide tomorrow. You'll be escorted to your tent and stay there until then.'

As we walked to our tent we heard a cry. A human child had been hit by a horse. Miran raced there. The guards tried to stop him but he slipped away. They chased him, but when he got to the screaming child, he bent down and examined his wounds. The guards grabbed him , but he stared at them and said aggressively 'Leave me.' And they did. He held the child in his arms and said to the sky 'Liby of Mercy, pity this child and stop his pain. Pass it to me so he will live.'

Suddenly, blue, dancing strings of light, like lightning surrounded the crying boy. Slowly, he fell asleep. Then a concentrated blue ray hit Miran and he toppled over onto the ground in pain. The child's mother took her baby in her arms. She looked at Miran, who suffered quietly, and nodded her thanks in relief. The guards grabbed him and threw us to our tent. After about ten minutes, Miran's pain dissipated.

'This little show will help your trade agreement' he said.

'What, the hell, happened ?' I asked him.

'Liby is one of the skeleton's gods, isn't she ?' Giwilom asked.

'Yes, she is. I learned a lot about the gods in the dead city' he said. 'I believe they all exist everywhere. You just have to have faith in them and they will help you.'

'I thought that was the case' I said to him 'but I was too afraid to try anything.'

'Now you know it is true.'

We went to sleep till the morning.

The next morning the chief came to our tent.

'As appreciation to what you've done, we grant you the, so called, agreement. Our fighting leader will come to you later today to begin his training. Tomorrow, one of our top riders will come and teach you how to ride. Good-day' and she went.

'What's her problem ?' Miran asked me.

'I guess she doesn't like males.'

Later that day, a muscular human came. He was about seven feet tall and had brown hair. He introduced himself as Queleck. Miran and I agreed that I'll teach him and he will learn more about this camp. He went to stride among the humans. Queleck escorted me outside the camp. He was quite a nice guy (as opposed to the savages we met at our first week of the journey.)

As I taught him how to hold the bow and aim, he told me about his tribe, its way of life, its customs. It took him all day just to learn how to hold the bow and arrow together. He wasn't very smart, but Gilay would have loved to wrestle with him. Gilay. My thoughts wondered to the dead city and to the time we spent there.

We got really friendly and he walked with me back to our tent.

'I'll see you tomorrow' I said. He was agitated that he didn’t already master this skill so he said 'let's see how you ride horses.'

Miran returned two hours later.

'Where have you been ?'

'I've been looking all over camp for a priest and I couldn't find one. It's amazing, these guys don't believe in anything. No god helps them and yet, they've survived.'

'Maybe they use magic ?'

'No, I would have known' he answered. 'Maybe I can convert them. I'll impress them tomorrow.'

'You can't. Did you already forget? Tomorrow we're learning how to ride.'

'It's great' Giwilom entered the tent. 'I've watched those humans ride all day. Some are very good. They do things I can only dream of.'

'Then it is settled. Tomorrow we'll learn how to ride horses' I said and that concluded our first day at the riders' camp.

The next morning we were excited. A human female came to us and reluctantly said 'I'll teach you how to ride, but I won't like it.' She looked scary, but nonetheless respectable.  She had blonde hair and a agile body. She moved with feline grace that matched our own and she had a commanding aura around her. She threw harsh stares and Giwilom almost cried when she stared at him with her angry face. She took us to the meadow, where four horses ate grass. One of them what pure brown, and it was magnificent. Another was a mix of black and gray, one dirty gray and the last was black with brown smears.

'First, you must learn how to climb them. Try yourself.' We looked at each other. Giwilom was the first volunteer. He walked toward the black and brown one, which was two feet taller than him and jumped at it. The horse slowly moved away and Giwilom landed, face down on the ground. Shimara, the human instructor, laughed and we joined her. Giwilom returned, his face red with embarrassment.

'That big horse doesn't like me' he said.

'We'll get you a smaller one' Shimara said and a small boy, which we haven't seen before, led Giwilom's horse and returned five minutes later with a midget black horse. We burst in laughter as we saw it. Shimara taught us how to mount the horses. I took the brown one and Miran the gray one. They were large, but after a lot of practice and aching bruises, we managed to mount them. At the end of the day, we rode the horses ourselves, directing them to whichever direction we (or maybe they ?) wanted to.

This routine of me teaching Queleck how to shoot an arrow and Shimara teaching us how to handle horses repeated itself for a week. At the end of that week, Giwilom, Miran and I mounted our horses easily and rode them galloping through the plains surrounding the camp. Queleck was discovered to be an excellent archer. He was accurate as well as myself. We taught together ten more fighters from his tribe. I also taught the human carpenter of the tribe how to create bows and arrowsand  in return, the chief agreed to give us our training horses when we leave.

During that week, Miran dazzled the leaders of the tribe with godly spectacles. He made food from dirt, made the wind tilt their spears in mid air and made their horses run faster. One day, one of the younger sub chiefs of the tribe approached him after his "show" and asked him to teach him how to do these... things. Miran told him he just has to believe earnestly that there are gods and they'll fulfill your wishes according to the strength of your belief, but they will demand a price. The young priest wished for himself to rise above ground, to show everybody that Mirashy, god of Air, is strong. He levitated upward, eyes closed, but when he opened his eyes and saw he was ten feet above us, he was so surprised that he lost his concentration and fell down, almost breaking his legs.

'The power of the gods is great' said Miran to the frightened crowd around him, 'but you must use it well and never forget who gave it to you.' (Miran was so impressive, he looked just like our priest, in our tribe.) Miran walked to the aching human on the ground.

'Mirashy, generous and great god, forgive this young human and return air to his body so he will spread your name across the world.' Suddenly, the human stood up, both legs untouched.

'Now I understand' he apologized to Miran, his head bent, and walked away.

That was last week. Today we have decided to continue our journey north, so Giwilom, Miran and I walked with Queleck and Shimara towards the chief's tent. Inside the tent, the chief and the young priest sat quietly around the campfire. The chief invited us to sit and we did.

'We want to thank you again for your hospitality' I said.

'Your welcome. Our new weapon has already been useful to us' she said. 'The hunting party returned with their sacks full of food. We thank you.'

'However, we were on a journey when we met your scouts a week ago and we would like to continue with it.'

'We will be sorry when you'll leave' said the young priest, addressing Miran.

'We will give you your horses' said the chief. 'You can leave whenever you want.'

'I have something to say' Shimara broke in on the conversation. 'I would like to accompany them on this journey. I have never traveled far from the tribe and now that I've seen the elves and the halfling, I am eager to see new races, to acquire new knowledge.'

'This is surprising, Shimara' said the chief. 'Are you sure you want to leave the camp?'

'It became clear to me only yesterday, but I am sure.'

'Then you will join them, but you must promise me to return to the tribe someday and when you do, to stay here till you die.'

'I do, great chief.'

'We would like to leave tomorrow' I said and then looked at Shimara. 'If that's all right with you ?'

'Sure.'

'Then tomorrow it is' said Giwilom, thrilled.

The next day four horses (well, actually three and a half) left the tribe, followed by waving hands and blessings from the new priest. We rode in pairs; Giwilom and Miran rode silently ahead, and Shimara and I talked in the rear. She told me of herself and of her family. I told her about our adventures since our journey had begun (I didn't mention the dead city.) We rode all day, except for one break, to give our horses some rest and for us to eat. Now that we had horses, we moved much more quickly, almost double the speed of before. Along the way, we taught Shimara how to use the bow, but she always preferred her spear.

Two days after we had left the rider's camp, at noon, Shimara suddenly raised her hand and we all froze. She looked around, searching for something. She held her spear in her hands  and we pulled out our bows. Giwilom just held a funny shaped rock in his hands. I moved slowly towards her and asked what was wrong.

'I think there's a pack of Loens watching us, hunting us, but I can't see them.'

'What are loens ? Where are they ?'

She silenced me. I turned my head to Miran and mouthed 'Unseen danger.' He nodded and I saw him raise his head and pray. Suddenly, I could see six loens. They were green, medium sized creatures with four legs and two arm-like claws, with frightening fangs. Somehow, they knew we could see them. Two jumped on Shimara, two on me, one on Miran and the last on Giwilom. One of Shimara's loens was pierced by her spear and she maneuvered her horse quickly, before the other one could reach her. Mine fell down with an arrow in his heart (or that's where his heart was the most likely to be), but the other  threw me of my horse me and my bow flew from my hand. Meanwhile, Miran hit his loen with an arrow, but didn't kill it. The loen began to flee. I couldn't see what Giwilom was doing, but somehow his loen was dead, his skull open wide. Shimara killed her remaining loen skillfully, using her horse to avoid getting hit. The second creature that attacked me fled as he saw he had no chance. Suddenly, Miran began to chase after him and galloped towards the fleeing loen. He shot two arrows. One missed and the other hit its mark. He finished the job with two more arrows. As we gathered up the corpses, Shimara said 'We'll feast tonight. Five loens, a good catch for one day's work.'

'Three loens' Miran corrected her. 'The Goddess of Sight demands her share.' Shimara looked at him suspiciously.

'I don't like your work, priest. Don't come too near.'

Miran took two of the bodies and went to pray. After two minutes they went up in flames and nothing remained. We ate the other three. Shimara looked at the ritual, annoyed.

'He's a friend' I said to her. 'He's all right.'

'I don't like him. He has this strange aura around him.'

'Your imagining things.'

'No, I'm serious. I see a changing halo around him. Every time I look at him, my gut tells me that something is wrong. Watch him, he's dangerous.' I ignored her and went to sleep.

    C    .

After another day and a half of riding, we saw in the distance a huge tribe dwelling in the plain before us. We continued to ride slowly towards it. As we came near, three tribals approached us. One was human, one a female elf and the other an orc. Giwilom looked scared when he saw the orc and warned us.

'Greetings, friends' the human said. 'You are welcome to our tribe. Everyone's a fugitive from something but here, all are welcome. I see you bring horses. That's good, very good. Welcome !'

'I don't like this' Giwilom said to me. 'This could be a trap.'

'I'm almost sure this is the tribe the skeleton mayor told us about. Look, there are different races working in cooperation.

'We thank you for the hospitality' I said to the human. 'We would like to meet with your chief as soon as possible. We have a proposal to give him.'

'As soon as you settle in you will see him.'

We entered the camp, still mounted on our horses. None of the tribals looked surprised. There were all kinds of races here: humans, elves, goblins, orcs. They were talking with each other and playing with each other. Absolutely no hostility. It looked so natural to them, but it was strange to us. We were assigned an area where our horses could rest and where we would live. Afterwards we walked to the chief's tent. The chief was of a race we had never seen before. He was short: taller than Giwilom, but shorter than us. He was sturdy and strong, and had a red beard and a big snout.

'Welcome to our tribe' said the dwarf chief. 'You can stay here as long as you want. If you want to make this your permanent home, you will be assigned your duties as part of our big tribe.'

'We thank you for your generosity, but we will not stay here for long' I said to him. 'We have a proposal for you that will highly benefit your tribe.'

'Do tell.'

'On our way here, we encountered a wonderful human tribe. Shimara was a member of this tribe, but she has chosen to accompany us instead of staying with them. This tribe has things that you don't have here, like horses, and I'm sure you have things here that they don't have. My proposal is that I will send a messenger to the riders’ tribe and tell the chief there that you would like to make an exchange with her. You could even open a trade route on a regular basis so you could benefit all year long.'

'An interesting proposal indeed. Horses will benefit us greatly. I accept your proposal, wise elf. Bring me this messenger of yours. I will give her a present for her chief.'

'Wait,' Shimara frowned. 'I can't return to my tribe. Remember what my chief said, that if I return there, I must stay there till I die.'

'I will go' Giwilom volunteered. 'They know me and I'm sure I can persuade them to accept this offer.'

'Are you sure ? You'll be riding alone.'

'Yes, I'm sure. I'll go tomorrow.'

The rest of the day Giwilom prepared for the trip. Shimara instructed him on the way, so he would remember how to get there, and I went over and over with him about the offer. Khanaka, the dwarf chief gave him a set of beautiful brown furs, from hill animals. They were smooth and warm. That night I thought I saw Miran bending over Giwilom and mumbling something. He was probably praying for a safe journey. The next morning, Giwilom left the fugitives' tribe and headed south, taking the first step on a new path, cooperation between two tribes.

The next day Miran and I explored this new tribe. Miran got really friendly with a human and I left them to talk. I met new people and learned more about them: I heard stories about tribes from the east and from the west; about the chain of mountains to the north and legends about the land beyond them; stories about new techniques of making weapons. I even saw a strong sharp object that was called a 'Sword' and it was made from a shining gray material called 'Steel'. It was heavy, but the human fighter used it skillfully and efficiently. It was a deadly weapon. Unfortunately, he did not know how to make it and didn't even know how to extract the material from the earth.

The next day the whole tribe was excited. From the scraps of information I received, I learned that a special guest had arrived. In the distance, I saw a crowd gathered around a stranger. I got closer and as I did, I saw that the stranger was wrapped in red cloaks and was riding a white horse-like creature. I saw in front of me a Poorashai riding a Zhunatsi. He dismounted his magnificent beast and entered the chief's tent. No one dared touch the Zhunatsi. I asked what was happening and an orc told me the 'Traveler' had arrived and was talking to the chief about recent events. I had been waiting with the crowd for fifteen minutes when the word was passed on: 'The newcomers are requested at the tent.' I assumed they meant me so I neared the tent. I saw Shimara and we went inside together. Miran was already there. The 'traveler' was there, too. He was elvenoid and fearsome. We sat, but were not introduced. As I was told later, the 'traveler' had no interest in names.

'Now that you are all here, let's proceed' said the dwarf.

'There is a menace rising in the west', said the 'traveler'. 'Already a dark tribe has conquered two big tribes there. Even I don't go there. They have no respect and they are evil.'

'And what are you ?' asked Shimara and Miran elbowed her. The 'traveler' ignored her, fortunately for  us.

'Now tell me about new developments in this area', he demanded.

'With the initiative of our elven friend here, we have sent a messenger to a neighboring human tribe. Maybe you can tell him more about it.'

'I have a notion that cooperation between tribes is the way to prosperity for all races' I said, trying to impress the 'traveler'. He was not moved. 'We have already begun, in small steps, the process. We exchanged knowledge with the human riders. Now I'm hoping that this tribe will gain the use of horses and, maybe, even begin to trade on a regular basis.'

'Something like what you are doing', Miran added. 'You pass from tribe to tribe on your beasts and spread news about distant places. If the tribes were all connected by trade routes, instead of being isolated, this transfer of information would become second nature.'

'If this first trade route works', I said enthusiastically, 'we can expand it to more tribes, maybe even the whole world.'

'Relax, you're turning red from excitement', Shimara warned me. Maybe that was the reason I had had trouble breathing for the last few minutes.

'Your idea is worth putting to the test' said the Poorashai, 'but don't depend on it too much.'

'He's just saying that because if it works, he'll be out of a job', Shimara whispered to me. I grinned.

'I will be on my way.' The 'traveler' stood up. 'Beware the danger from the west. It is powerful. I will be back. Good-bye, Miran' he said and left the tent. We all stared at Miran. He blushed, stood up and left the tent, too.

'If the 'traveler' says it's worth trying, I will be glad to continue on this path, with your help, of course,' the dwarf chief said, holding out his hand. I took it and smiled.

That was an exciting day, but the ones which followed overshadowed it by their importance.

Miran spent most of his time with his new human friend, Xeron. I saw them talking and talking for hours. I spent most of my time with Shimara. She told me more of her tribe and her life there. I told her of my tribe and the journey from it. The next day, as Shimara and I were walking in the camp, we heard a shout. I will never forget that moment. We ran towards it. We saw a human crying "Magic-users, Magic-users !!!' It all happened so fast. He was pointing at Xeron. He looked around frightened. Suddenly, the crying human got hold of a spear and ran towards the magic-user. 'Good, one less magic-user' I thought. Right at that moment I saw a sight that was imprinted on my memory and will stay there forever. Miran, who was standing thirty feet away, raised his hands and mumbled strange words. Suddenly, I could sense heat waves, yellow, burning waves of heat coming out of his hands, racing through the dry air and striking at the human attacker and his weapon. The spear went up in flames and five seconds later, turned into white ash. The human screamed in pain, but was not badly hurt. Miran ran to Xeron. The mob that gathered rushed towards them, blood in their eyes. Somehow, Miran and Xeron made a sphere of protection around them and no one could come near. They just bumped into this invisible wall and bounced off. I was shocked: Miran was a magic user.

My thoughts raced. How could this be ? I had known Miran for dozens of years. He wasn't a magic-user. Or was he ? I had always wondered how he won the running race. He couldn't have run that fast. All those years he had deceived me, us. It explained a lot of things, though. How we floated through the shaft to the dead city instead of falling and dying like ... Gilay. I wonder if Gilay knew. No, he couldn't have. If he had, he would have killed him on the spot. Magic-users are evil. They all should be dead. But Miran, my friend, how could he be evil. Evil wouldn't have saved my life dozens of times. It's impossible, but we were taught... They said in our tribe that all magic-users must be killed. Surely they didn't mean Miran, but he is a magician, was a magician for ... How long ? Mom told me they were born this way, their mind twisted and their hearts lurking with evil. Miran was a good elf. All those discussions, all our friendship was a lie. He must be killed, but wait. He saved our lives, just the other day, when the loens attacked us. He helped us, he and his gods. This can't be true, it's inconceivable. How did the gods help him ? Or did they ? Was it Magic ? It couldn't have been. I saw him pray for them and they answered. But he's a magic-user, with his magic he destroys everything she ... they planned. Why did they help him, us. I was so confused, I had a headache. My world was falling apart. He was my best friend, after Gilay died ... Turned into a skeleton. But now Miran is a traitor, a deceiver, evil. It's too weird. This whole journey is becoming a nightmare.

I saw the mob pushing his way through the magic sphere. The wizards wouldn't last long. I felt as though my mind was split in half. One voice urged me to join the mob: "All magic-users must be destroyed, or they will destroy you." But the other half kept screaming: "He's your friend, he saved your life, he wouldn't destroy you. You must help him." I didn't know what to do. Shimara was running towards me.

'I told you he was strange' she said. 'We must kill him. He's a magic-user. They'll destroy our world and us in it. They disrupt fate. They sabotage our normal life cycle. We must kill them all.'

'How can you say that ? He saved your life when those loens attacked. They would have killed you if it weren't for him.'

'He did that only for himself, to save his skin. He doesn't care about me or you. He's evil and must be destroyed.' She ran to join the crowd.

As the crowd was encircling the magic-users, I caught a glimpse of Miran. He looked frightened. I've never seen him so scared and helpless. Suddenly, he stared back at me and I could hear his voice in my head. It was begging for help.

'Please help me, friend' he said. 'I've never done you any wrong. You're my only hope. I don't have much time. Please help me.' It was the first time I had heard Miran crying. I couldn't abandon him, I resolved. He's my friend and friendship is sacred, it's above all else.

I struggled to get through the mob and as I reached the invisible barrier, I looked at Miran and he nodded. I got past the sphere of magic and stood by my friend.

'Stop it !' I shouted to the crowd. 'We have done nothing wrong. We have never hurt you. Please, leave us alone.'

'Another magic-user' an anonymous voice cried.

'No, I'm not. I'm just an elf who doesn't want any trouble.' Meantime, Khanaka arrived and with one roar, one unearthly roar, silenced the crowd.

'What, in the name of Takhaka, is going on ?' he shouted.

'These are magic-users, chief. They must be killed.' The dwarf looked at the barrier and touched it. He was convinced they were just that.

'And what about you, wise elf ? Are you a magic-user ?'

'No, I'm not, but I will protect my friends' lives with my own if I have to.'

'We don't want to hurt you. You helped us, but all magicians must be abolished. You should know that. They disrupt order and care about no one else, but themselves.'

'These two have done you no harm. They were only trying to help me establish this trade route.'

'Then maybe this trade route is evil, too ?'

'You know it's not. You yourself said it would help you.'

'Step away, we don't want to hurt you.'

'Good, I don't want to be hurt, but I won't leave my friends. I have an idea. We will leave this place immediately and never come back so no one gets hurt. No harm done.'

'Another great idea, eh ?' he looked thoughtfully and stared at the two wizards and then at me.

'Again I agree to your proposal.' A murmur of resentment was heard throughout the crowd. After another dwarvish roar, the people slowly backed away. We ran to our tent and mounted our horses quickly, Miran sharing his horse with Xeron, fearing that Khanaka would change his mind. Shimara was there. She was confused, she didn't know want to do.

'You can still come with us,' I said. 'Miran won't hold a grudge.' Miran nodded. 'He won't hurt you, you know that.' She reluctantly agreed and mounted her horse, too. Before we left, I rode to Khanaka, at the risk of my life.

'I hope you will treat Giwilom well when he returns. Don't exile him just because he was with us.'

'I won't.'

'And please, don't stop the new path we have begun. I will try to get new tribes to join us.' He nodded and shook my hand. He seemed friendly, almost too friendly. As I returned to my companions I heard someone say: 'They put a spell on the chief. He would have killed them, but they have bewitched him.' That thought annoyed me, but I never asked Miran what had really happened. I couldn't.

We rode slowly through the plains, the sky partly cloudy above us. Shimara rode silently beside me, while Miran was talking quietly to Xeron twenty yards away. After about ten minutes, Xeron jumped down from the horse they were sharing and Miran approached me. Shimara immediately backed away. Miran looked at her, annoyed.

'I'm sorry she doesn't like me. I hope you're not angry with me for not telling you all those years back.'

'Of course I'm angry,' and I was. 'How could you keep this from me, from your friends ?'

'Can you really tell me now that you wouldn't have joined the mob if I had told you this when I first met you ? Or even a few years later ? And Gilay, he would have joined them even now, if he were here. You know that. And the tribe. You know they would all have killed me on the spot. I believe even my mother would have killed me.'

'You mean she doesn't know ?'

'No, no one knows, except from my mentor. He has taught me everything I know, since I reached adulthood at age twenty-five.'

'Who is he ? Wait, don't tell me. I don't want to know. Just tell me one thing: How can this be that you can use magic as well as pray to the gods. They're supposed to be completely opposites ?'

'I don't really know, but I'm starting to understand, I think. If I find out, I'll tell you.'

I looked at him. His dark hair almost shone from the noon sun. Somehow, my friend looked different. He did have some strange glow about him, as Shimara said, but it didn't frighten me, nor did it disgust me. It filled me with awe. Somehow, in my heart, I had always admired magic-users. They were so powerful, they could control anything. They could summon powers I didn't believe existed. I respected my friend, now more than ever. And now, we had two magicians in the party.

'What about Xeron ?' I asked, 'What do you make of him ?'

'He's a nice person, for a human, and not a bad magic-user, too. It's good to have him. I hope you can count him as a friend.'

'If he's your friend, then he's my friend.'

'I hate when people say that,' he said and we laughed.

After a few hours, as we rode towards the setting sun, I approached Xeron and Miran. The brown skinned human was not yet accustomed to the horse.

'We'll make camp,' I announced. Everyone was relieved and dismounted quickly. As we were making camp, I approached Xeron. I heard him mumbling strange words and automatically my hands were reaching for my bow, but I stopped them.

'What was that spell, wizard ?' I asked, upset.

'It was the spell which enables me to talk to you.’

'You couldn't talk to me before ?'

'No, I wouldn't understand you. No two tribes talk the same language.' That explained a lot.

'So how did you manage to live in the fugitives’ camp, were all the people came from different tribes ?'

'A few of us magic-users (I wasn't the only one there, but the others wanted to stay anonymous in the camp,) composed and cast a large, dynamic spell which enables all the tribals to understand one another. You see, without us magicians, that tribe would wither and die.'

'Why can't they just learn other languages ?'

'They will in time, but to begin a tribe of different races without killing one another is difficult and requires a lot of courage and wisdom, and without a common language and communication it's impossible.'

We finished preparing the camp. I saw Miran and Xeron talking to Shimara and she looked as though she wanted to just run away, but she didn't. After about an hour Miran approached me.

'Two questions have been disturbing my mind all day. First, what is your attitude towards us using magic when we're with you ?'

'I don't mind so much, as long as it's not on me, but don't use it too much. You could attract unwanted attention.'

'And two: Where are we headed ? We didn't have time to talk about it when we left the fugitives' tribe.'

'I had the idea of continuing to advance the cooperation issue and expand to new tribes. I'm sure there are a lot of tribes in the vicinity who would like to exploit this idea.'

'I think you have gotten your hopes up too high. Your idea is too new for most of the tribes and they would rather kill you than give you their secrets. However, I have thought of a way to combine our two talents. What would you say about using magic to accomplish these trade agreements ?'

Suddenly he looked evil. Would he, this easily, manipulate minds to accomplish these things ? Was he so eager to use his magic on other people ? My mind was screaming: 'No !' But a little voice in me suggested: 'He's right. Not everyone would accept this new idea and it's important for everyone to cooperate or else it will be useless. And if magic can help, then why not ?' I reluctantly nodded and went away. He got the message.

The next morning we began our "ambassadorial journey." We rode for weeks (actually, five and a half of them). About once a week we arrived at a new tribe. The day after we arrived, we met the chief and with my guidance, with or without Miran's help, we convinced him/her/it to send a messenger to the fugitives' camp. We visited two goblin tribes, one orc and two human.

One interesting encounter was with the human savages. As soon as they saw us they charged at us. After a moment, and two spells, they accompanied us to their camp, laughing with us the whole way there. Their chief almost executed them for showing us where the camp was, but I convinced him (I want to believe it was only me) that they had done him a favor. In the end, he, too, sent a messenger.

During this quest for tribes, Miran and Xeron talked quietly between themselves discussing, probably, magic philosophy. Shimara and I were left to ourselves. I got to know her better. One night, I woke to the sound of music. As I sat up, I saw her staring at the dark, cloudy night and singing in her tribal tongue. It was beautiful. I approached her and, when she saw me, she stopped.

'I miss my tribe,' she said.

'Me, too. You have a beautiful voice.' I began to hum a tune. After a moment I sang softly. Not words, just music. She joined me. We sang for hours and when we stopped, we saw that the sun was peeking from behind the clouds. Its rays shone upon dozens of birds, which sat quietly beside us. After a minute, Miran woke up and the sound of the birds rising to the sky startled him. He looked at us, disoriented.

'I dreamt I heard the gods sing all together,' he said. Shimara looked at me and we giggled.

At the last tribe we met, a goblin tribe, Xeron met a blond goblin. It was a funny sight. After he had talked to him, he said that the goblin was a magician. He didn't want to come with us, but Miran and Xeron conversed with him for hours. When we left the tribe, after five and a half weeks of riding ever south-west, after almost reaching our forest home, Miran approached me.

'I'm afraid we must leave you,' he said. I was stunned.

'What ?! Why ?'

'Xeron and I learned something important from the goblin wizard. I can't tell you what it is. It's a secret and only magic-users can know of it. I'm sorry.'

'After I saved your life, after all these years of friendship, even when I knew you used magic, you still have to have secrets.'

'I'm sorry, but I cannot tell you. I mustn't.'

'Then I will come with you anyway, without knowing. Hey, I always wanted to go nowhere.'

'But somewhere on the way we will still have to leave you.' I agreed and asked Shimara if she wanted to come with us. She said she didn't want to leave me now. She had nowhere else to go.

This time, Miran led the way. We rode east for three weeks. The autumn wind was mostly at our back and the sky was partially clouded by beautifully shaped clouds. Each day, I tried to get out of Miran where we were headed, but when he wants to, he can be very secretive, as I had already found out. Miran spent most of his time talking to Xeron and they sometimes argued and shouted at each other. I just hoped they wouldn't start fighting. A fight between wizards can be very nasty.

One day, Miran was contemplating an idea and we heard him say to himself: 'It can be done.' He declared a full stop and he started to pray and continued that all day long. The next day he called a party conference.

'As I have already told some of you, I was considering how the possibility of a priest and a magic-user can be combined in one person, as it has in me. We all know that the common belief is that magic disturbs the order and fate of what the deities have built for us. We all first believed that only one goddess existed - we believed in Gutha - goddess of nature and elves, and Xeron was brought up where the ruling deity was Woovoo - god of green grass and blue sky, but then, along the way, we met more gods and many different beliefs, and now, with my strong faith I can call on any god I know for help. There are so many different deities. At my last count they reached almost a hundred. I can't believe so many powerful deities have to control our, comparatively, miserable life. I started to develop a theory and I want to try something on all of you. If it works, I may have stumbled upon something great here. I will try to call upon a god I have never heard of before.'

'How do you know it exists ?'

'I don't. The point is that as I told the young priest in your tribe, Shimara, it's all about faith. One must only believe in the power of the god.

'I call you... Murushu - god of fire and heat, to make this cold day warm, to share your unending heat with us, to make fire out of wet grass, to show your infinite power.' As he said it, the temperature around us rose, we no longer felt the biting cold air of the early winter. Suddenly, the green grass in front of us caught fire and a large, warming fire sent its flames up to the sky.

We were overwhelmed. Glad of the unexpected warmth, but still, overwhelmed. Miran had called on a new god, a god that did not exist and yet, it answered with warmth and fire. Maybe Miran used magic - No. He wouldn't have lied to us now and yet, how could this be possible ? I looked at Miran. He was stunned too for, I guess, he did not expect this to happen. He walked away, his eyes shining with happiness, his head bent, probably pondering the consequences of his experiment.

As we continued to ride east, he said nothing to no one. Even when we met another human tribe, and I insisted we go in and persuade them to join the trade network we were trying to establish, he did not object. Again, I didn't know if it was me or Xeron's magic, but the chief of the tribe was persuaded.

After a three week journey, Miran told us to stop and make camp. Shimara and I did, while Xeron and Miran went to do their magical business. When they returned they looked upset.

'It should have been here', Xeron said.

'What ?' I asked him anxiously .

'You won't entrap me this easily, elf,' he said. 'Maybe it's because they're with us,' he said to Miran.

'Yes, probably. I'm sorry, friend, but we must part from you now. I told you it would happen someday.'

'If you say so,' I agreed indifferently. He looked at me annoyed at my too quick agreement. Of course, he did not know what I had in mind. The next day they left camp early in the morning.

'We'll follow them' I said to Shimara. 'If they are going someplace that is somehow related to what Miran showed us, I want to be there.' Reluctantly she joined me. We packed our things and followed the wizards. We rode behind them, staying out of sight for nearly two hours. Suddenly, they stopped. We couldn't see what they were doing, but after a minute or so, we saw something that our eyes didn't want to believe. In midair, in front of the wizards, a large bright circle, about eight feet high, appeared. The amazing thing was they didn't looked surprised at all. They just... rode into it.

'We must follow them,' I said and urged my horse to a gallop.

'Into that thing ? Are you crazy ?' I couldn't hear her, but I knew that the passageway wouldn't stay open for long. As I neared the bright circle, I heard Shimara behind me. We raced through it,  and immediately stopped.

    D    .

We were surrounded by people. The terrain itself hadn't changed. We were still on the plain as before, only suddenly there were creatures, from all the races, looking at us. They just appeared from nowhere. Miran and Xeron were just twenty yards away from us and they turned their heads in our direction. As soon as I saw Miran's expression, I knew we were in deep trouble.

'They're not magic-users,' a dwarf shouted from the crowd, and I knew that this time, we were the exceptions. The cry 'Kill them' was coming from the gathering mob. I had a sense of deja-vu and this time Miran came to my help.

'Leave them alone,' he shouted. 'They're with me.'

'They must be killed. You know no non-wizard may be allowed to live after he knows where we are. He will go and tell his comrades and they will come and kill us.'

'Not this one. He saved my life from a non-magician mob who tried to kill me, just like you are doing. You're no better than they were. You, too, are ruthless to those who are different. They will stay with one of us at all times and none of you may hurt them.' Slowly, but steadily, the mob dispersed.

'That was your most idiotic act of your life, following us' Miran raged at me.

'I had to, you know that. You're my friend and I won't let you just leave me. By the way, thanks for saving my life.'

'Now we're even. You heard what I said. Always stay with one of us. You and Shimara.'

I looked around me. It was the strangest place I had ever been in. People from all the races lived here, and they were all wizards and they used their power, too. People were vanishing just to reappear somewhere else. Others flew in the air to meet their friends. Things were created from thin air. It was weird. I had a head-ache. My mind was not accustomed to this kind of chaos. We found a place to settle down and rested for the rest of the day. This time, no messenger arrived from the chief. I kind of missed that.

The next day, Shimara and I had to accompany Xeron everywhere he went, because they didn't allow us even to stay alone in our tent and Miran went to meet new friends. That was the routine for the next three days. As I walked through the camp I heard whispers about Miran. I listened more carefully and heard that he was making speeches about his new theory. Many magicians were impressed by it and went to hear him. I wanted to hear them too so, embarrassed, I asked Xeron to go with me to listen to Miran's speech, and we went.

As we arrived at the site, dozens of magic-users were sitting around Miran, listening carefully to every word he said.

'What is magic? No one really knows the essence of it. We just know how to use it. Of course we know that it comes from the energy within us, but what exactly is it? And how is it different from the priest's creations? I know you all say that priests get their power from outside sources, but what are gods?

'I see no one can answer this question. The only thing we know is that they created us and that we are now playing their game of fate. The anti-magicians say that magic disturbs order and disrupts the normal course of fate, but of course, we know that the gods wouldn't give us the power to interfere with their plans. All this we learned from our mentors when we were first chosen to be magicians.

'I say it's wrong!' There was a murmur in the crowd - 'How dare he defy the teaching of the great mentors, even his own ?' Miran waited theatrically until there was complete silence again.

'Did any one of you ever count how many gods there are? At my last count, yesterday it reached unimaginable numbers. As some of you may know, I'm also a priest. I know this combination is strange and rare and it shouldn't exist in our world, but it does. Some of you may have heard of the goddess Gutha. She was the first god I knew of. She was my tribe's goddess. Let me show you some of her power.

'Oh, Gutha - goddess of nature, guardian of the forest. Make this idle tree near me bear fruit so all here may nourish from your kindness.' And slowly, red juicy fruit grew from every branch of the tree. The crowd was speechless. Miran picked some of them and handed them out to his audience.

'I hope you won't doubt me and say I used magic. This was an authentic prayer to Gutha, but now I want to show you something that only my friends have seen. Have any of you ever heard of the god Shilay ? No ? No wonder, he does not exist. I invented him. Now if I pray to him, he will give me nothing, right ? Because he does not exist. Wrong!

'Oh, Shilay - god of nothing which does not exist, creator of void and guardian of none, create in my hand a rock. A black rock which will cast a shadow over this place.' Suddenly, a black rock appeared in Miran's outstretched hand, and even in the noon sun, with no cover at all - Miran was in a shadow. No ray of light struck him. The audience was awe stricken. No one believed it. One human even rose and with a curse of 'Blasphemer' left the place, angry.

'Well, how do you explain it ? There seems to be no explanation, does there ? Wrong again, but the only explanation that exists boggles the mind, turns this world up-side-down. I say that no god created us. I say that both magic and priesthood are within and maybe even the same thing. How can this be ? We created the gods, friends. They exist to serve us and not the other way around. Those who cannot use magic because their will isn't strong enough and those who have faith in power, created the gods to serve them. Each tribe created its own deity and that's why there are so many of them. Everyone who believes strongly enough in power, not gods, but in their ability to give him power, can create one as I did. Both magic and priesthood are here to serve us, to aid us in survival, in prosperity. The gods don't control our lives, we do with the help of powers we ourselves created - magic and gods. We are in control and there is no such thing as fate.' Miran was flushed with excitement. I don't know if he expected applause, but he didn't get any. Somehow, the audience of wizards couldn't accept his ingenious ideas. One by one, they left. I approached him.

'That was amazing, Miran. Why didn't you tell us this before ?'

'I only reached the conclusion  a few days ago. Do you agree with me ?'

'I don't know. It's pretty amazing. I can't find any flaws in the reasoning, but according to your theory, everyone can use the power of the gods.'

'Everyone who believes in power,' he corrected.

'Ah, I never really believed in power, Miran. I always thought that an elf should take care of himself without outside interference. Maybe that is the reason I tried to establish the trade network, so that gods wouldn't be needed in every tribe, so that each tribe would contribute to the others.'

Suddenly, an elf appeared near Miran. I was startled. He whispered something to Miran and waited.

'Excuse me, I have to go,' and at that, Miran and the elf vanished. I was overwhelmed. I asked Xeron if any magician could do all these things and he said only the powerful ones could. I asked him if he could do it and he shook his head. He said he had a lot to learn. I looked at Shimara and saw she was pale. She hadn't quite adjusted to this magical environment. We returned to our tent and waited for Miran. As quickly as he had vanished, he reappeared. He was dazed and he stared emptily at the air.

'He's still shocked from the teleports,' Xeron explained. I took advantage of the situation and asked Miran for information.

'Where were you ?'

'With the masters' he answered subconsciously.

'He means the master wizards. They're the oldest and wisest wizards in the world.'

'What did they say ?'

'They said that my theory is good.' I began asking the next question when Miran stopped me.

'But they also said it is not the only one that explains the situation. They know not which theory is the correct one.'

'What's the other theory ?' I asked excitedly, waiting to hear another brilliant speech, but then he snapped out of his trance. He fell to the floor, still a little shocked.

'What happened ?' he asked.

'You just appeared here and collapsed,' I answered silencing the others with a harsh stare. Miran looked at me as though probing my mind. I could tell he knew I was lying, but he didn't inquire me any further and neither did I. An angry magician is a dangerous one, indeed.

One day, as I was walking through the camp, accompanied, as usual, by Xeron, I suddenly had the urge to find out what was new with our trading expeditions. As though reading my mind (I hope it was really a coincidence, as she told me it was), a female orc approached me and asked in a hissing tongue: 'Want to look far far away, to see your tribe, your family ?' and then she pulled out a shining, perfect crystal-clear sphere.

'Just look into it, and see what you want' she hissed, and I did as she said. I thought of the fugitives' camp and suddenly, as she said it would be, it appeared on the crystal ball. I saw Khanaka sitting down with three of the messengers we sent from the different tribes. I could almost hear them talking, negotiating. It was working. My trade plan was working. I was thrilled. I waited for a minute and then I saw Khanaka get up and shake hands with his new friends. He gave them a present and sent them away, just like Giwilom. As soon as his name crossed my mind, I saw him. Sitting among the fugitives, around the campfire and telling his stories. I was so glad. I thanked the orc sorceress and went on.

We stayed at the wizards' camp for another week. Shimara suddenly worried me by showing increasing interest in Miran's theory. She told me one day, that she wanted to learn how to use power to help herself. She was fascinated with the feats that wizards performed every day in this camp. She spent a lot of time with, her former enemy, Miran. He was thrilled that she showed interest in his ideas. She was his first convert. He taught her everything he knew. He said she was improving, but I never saw her use her newly acquired power.

At the end of the week Miran came to us, troubled.

'I heard terrible news from the west. The menace that the "traveler" told us about is growing. We just found out it wiped out a large tribe of wood elves.' I panicked: Oh, Gutha, our tribe. He probably saw me turn white for he explained: 'It's not our tribe. They are still far away from it, but those evil creatures keep advancing. We must put an end to it. A scouting party was sent to the vicinity of the last catastrophe, but I fear for them. I recommend we go there, too. I want to find out what is happening there.'

'I'm with you, friend,' I said. Shimara nodded, too and Xeron joined us.

'We will ride west until we get some more information about the progress of this black monster. I feared it would take us too long to get there, so I summoned a horse for Xeron.' I was accustomed to Miran's miracles so I was not surprised. 'I also blessed our horses with increased speed. More than that, I cannot do. We will leave tomorrow.' We agreed.

The next day, when the clouds warned us of the approaching winter, we left the wizards' camp. Miran explained our quest to the master wizards  and they agreed to let us go. When the evening began, we could no longer see the sky above. It was covered with dark ominous clouds.  When we camped for the night, it began raining. The two wizards cast a spell on our camp and we remained dry for the night, but they were not powerful enough to keep us dry through the following day. We rode wet and cold. The magicians took turns using their energy to keep us warm. Miran and I were quite accustomed to this weather and we suffered little, but the humans took it bad. Noontime, on the third day after our departure from the wizards' camp, Shimara got sick. She coughed and sneezed. An hour after we had stopped to treat her, blessed by the gods who serve us, the rain stopped. We still couldn't see the sun and the air was moist, but the drops of rain ceased to hit us. Miran prayed to the so-called god of health to heal Shimara. It eased her cough, but she still suffered. When the magical priest began to pray again she stopped him. She began praying herself, and with amazing skill. She manipulated her belief in power to aid herself.

'Oh, gods of the healers, I know not your names, but you have the power to help me. Heal me so I will continue to believe in you and increase your own power. Help me in my time of need.' She finished her prayer with an uncontrollable series of coughs, but the newly created gods heard her prayer. Her belief in their power worked. She was now a priest. Beside her, a plant grew rapidly and bloomed with beautiful purple flowers. Miran picked the flower and boiled it in hot water and gave it to Shimara. She fell asleep. I didn't know if it was good or bad, but Miran assured me she would recover. And so she did. An hour later she woke up, blood returning to her face, and smiled.

'You did it, human,' Miran congratulated her. 'You are now an official priest.'

'What are we waiting here for? Let's continue, we haven't got much time.' She eagerly got up, mounted her horse and rode west. We quickly followed her. The next morning, the rain returned, but with the help of Shimara, the three power manipulators succeeded in creating a sphere of heat around us. We were warm and dry. A few hours later, we saw a tribe to the north. I wanted to visit them and perhaps to add them to the trade routes. The other three were against it, because they said we were in a hurry. Finally, with stubbornness and a lot of persuasion, I convinced them. We galloped towards the tribe. It was a goblin one. Through the rain, we could see very few goblins around. We approached them. Before they could see us, I remembered that here, magic was banned. I told Miran to end the spell of heat and he did. We were wet again. Surprisingly, we entered the camp without resistance. Two goblins approached us and welcomed us to their camp. We thanked them. I saw in the distance something that both surprised me and made me happy: Horses. We were escorted to the chief's dry tent. When we entered, he welcomed us again with open arms. After a short conversation, my idea was confirmed. They had joined the trade grid. They received horses from the rider's camp and they gave food in exchange. The chief told us that the network was expanding each day. Trade routes were already open on a day-to-day basis between the three major tribes: the fugitives' tribe, the riders' tribe and an orc tribe we had already encountered on our ambassadorial quest. This was good news indeed. We asked him about the menace and he said that many fugitives arrived from the west each week. They spoke of horrors and dark magic, but nothing more specific. He also added that the Poorashai were seen only rarely in these parts. Instead,  the grid had messengers on horses riding from camp to camp to bring news of recent events. I wanted to stay longer and hear more about the trade network I had started, but my party objected. This was the first time I was at a disadvantage. They formed a consensus of priests and magicians against me. Five hours after we arrived, we left the goblin camp.

Our journey west continued for two weeks. On it we encountered two more tribes that were in the network. I rejoiced at the success of the trade idea. It was working, and working well. All the tribes said they were gaining much from this arrangement, and everyone was satisfied. At the end of the journey we reached a remote camp of humans. Surprisingly, it was part of the grid, too. When we arrived, we saw dozens of humans, elves, goblins and orcs lying around, wounded. We heard cries of agony and moans of desperation. There was constant movement of people, trying to help the wounded. Above the sound of pain we could hear the words of prayers and between the sights of blood and corpses we could see sparks of holy light. We didn't have to ask where they were from. From their cries we understood they had fled the battle with the dark menace. We approached one human victim. Shimara kneeled beside him.

'Oh, gods of health. I know now that you exist. Help this poor man, and end his pain. Show him your power, so he, too, will believe in you.' Slowly, the aching man stopped twisting and relaxed. The pain was eased.

'Thank you, female priest. I'm in your debt.'

'Where are you from, warrior ?' Miran asked him.

'I come from a tribe from the west. Only few of us survived.' He frowned. 'The images are returning,' he cried. 'Make it stop. No, my family, my wife. No !!' Shimara, with a silent prayer, eased his mental pain. He was relaxed once more. 'We saw them coming from miles away. They were marching beneath a dark cloud which was progressing with them. We mustered all the men. We were still outnumbered three to one, but we were strong and confident. We were sure we would win, but then it came. A thunder storm, followed by lightning and hard rain struck us. The wind blew our weapons from our hands. When they came, it stopped and we were unarmed. I fled. I ran as fast as I could. They wiped us out. When I got to the camp, I took my second spear. I was determined to defend my tribe and my family, but when I saw that mass of warriors, those evil magicians, those dark, deformed elves, I ran away. In the distance, I heard the cries of my tribe. It pierced my shameful heart like an arrow. As I ran, two of those elves chased me. I was tired and I couldn't outrun them, so I stood fast and defended myself. They were vicious. I killed one of them, but I got hurt myself. I managed to badly wound the other when I heard their cry of victory from my, now destroyed, camp. I ran once more. I ran for days, wounded, until I got here three days ago. I thank you again, priest, for your prayer.' He fell asleep. We stared at each other. If his story was true, we had a mighty enemy to defeat. It would require all of our resources, so we gathered together to decide what to do next.

'According to his story, the dark elves used magic,' Miran said. 'I think we should use it, too. Now that we know its meaning we can teach it to many people and together we can fight it.'

'I disagree. I think this is the opportunity to exploit the trade network,' I said. 'The tribes are virtually united. With the help of all the camps we can create a massive army of all races, and all arts of war. I say we can defeat the dark magic they are using with our new method. That will be the proof of its success. I think it will work... I'm sure it will work.'

'But we have new powers.' This time, Shimara joined the magicians. 'We should use them. They're powerful and, as we know, everyone can learn them. I agree with Miran. We should use magic.'

'And how do you want to convince the others ? You saw how they reacted to Miran and Xeron at the fugitives' camp. If it weren't for me, they would be dead now.'

'I was like that, too, you know,' the human priestess said. 'But now, look at me. I wield the power of the gods as if I were born with it. Anyone can learn how to do it,  and together, the four of us can convince them. We can do it !'

I didn't answer. I just didn't know how. Upset, I bid them good night and went to sleep. Before I fell asleep, I prayed to Gutha although I knew it meant nothing. I knew she was there only if I believed in her powers, but I prayed, nonetheless.

'Oh, Gutha, goddess of elves, patron of my tribe, my savior. Help me in my time of need. My friends demand that we expand magic. I say we should exploit trade, unite all the tribes. Help me resolve this conflict with your infinite wisdom. Give me a sign !' I expected nothing, but nothing didn't happen. I saw her - just as the legends said she would be. A fair elven female. She spoke to me:

'Why do you struggle, my son ? What is this conflict ? You see problems where there are none. You think I do not exist, but I do. You must believe - in you and in me. Good luck my son !' The image dissolved. My eyes grew wet. Slowly I fell into an untroubled sleep.

I woke with the conviction, that I knew what to do, what Gutha had told me, and I told this to the others. They all agreed, but Miran was troubled. He could not explain what had happened. All the way he contemplated the revelation I had had with Shimara. This time I solved the puzzle.

'I think it was just my imagination. I believed in my power to solve the conflict. Gutha was just a way to reaffirm the answer I already knew. With my strong belief in Gutha's power to aid me, the answer was raised to the conscious level. I don't really know if it was me or Gutha, but ... does it really matter ?' Miran was satisfied with my solution and we continued on our new quest.

We rode towards the fugitives' camp, stopping at each camp we encountered. Every time we entered a camp, the three power wielders explained, with me as an arbitrator, how to use the gods to your own benefit. We encountered much resistance and disapproval. We were accused of witchcraft (which wasn't entirely untrue) and of blasphemy (if, with the new theory, there is such a thing). With Miran's speeches and Xeron's and Shimara's examples, we succeeded in convincing most of them that the use of power with the belief in it isn't magic. It took us two weeks of riding, with the help of acceleration by magic, to reach the fugitives' camp. We were greeted with harsh stares and murmurs of hatred. We went directly to Khanaka's tent. We entered it, unannounced.

'How dare you barge in ?' he roared and looked at us. 'Oh, it's you. We agreed you wouldn't return here, ever. I see you're not an elf of your word.'

'Harsh events call for harsh actions. We come from the west. The menace the "traveler" warned us of is raging. It's moving fast eastward and if it's not stopped, I can't tell what will happen. We heard from a human what had happened to one of the camps. The menace is apparently a tribe of dark elves, who use evil magic to conquer and defeat their targets. They are ferocious fighters as well. We must put aside our differences and unite to defeat this strong enemy.' He looked at me thoughtfully.

'I agree, wise elf. What do you suggest ?'

'On our way here we stopped at many camps that are part of the trade network. We taught them a theory. A new powerful way of life that Miran has discovered and developed.' He stared at Miran.

'He's a magician. Whatever he says is evil. I will not hear it.'

'His theory proves that priesthood and magic are alike. They both use the belief in power to evoke it.' After that we continued our practiced lecture on Miran's theory. Khanaka was stunned. He stared at us the whole time and said nothing. After we had finished, he got up and said: 'This is amazing, if it's true. According to this, I can use the power of the gods, although I'm not a priest. I'll try.' He did and it worked. He was surprised at his own power.

'With this, my tribe alone can defeat the dark menace.' He gloated.

'No, not yet. We must unite all the tribes and teach them of this new power. Together, we will create a powerful unit of warriors and then we can win. In this way, not only will we completely defeat the evil elves, but we will also unite the tribes under one goal. This is the power of war. We must exploit it if we get into one.'

'You are right. I will call all the tribes' leaders to hear us, using the mounted couriers. By the end of the week we will begin planning our attack.'

The week passed quickly, each day we taught new believers of the way of power. At the end of the week, a meeting was called. We adjourned to the chief's tent. Twenty chiefs were there, each already a believer. We plotted our strategies and at the end of the evening we had a plan. The next day, accompanied by fifty warriors, we rode southwest. At each tribe we met, we were joined by other units. When we reached the most western camp we could find, we had an army of three hundred fighters, and we expected more. We went over our plans, until the cavalry unit from the riders' camp arrived. We were ready. We waited nervously for the dark elves to come. Our scouts informed us daily of their progress. The day before their main army arrived, we hid most of our fighters.

The day of the battle began. We tried to see the sun, to draw strength from its light, but the dark elves covered the sky with their evil clouds. Their storm front moved swiftly in our direction, bringing with it destruction and death. The battlefield turned into a muddy swamp. When the storm reached us, the lightnings began. They hit our camp while burning our tents and killing dozens of warriors. As though that wasn't enough, a strong wind followed and spread the fire all over the camp. Somehow, the dark elves had a strong grasp in their magic for the wind strengthen to an unearthly velocity, carrying with it weapons and light weighted fighters. The storm lasted for ten minutes, destroying most of our camp, but that was only the first round. Dozens of dark, evil elves marched towards us, somehow undisturbed by the muddy earth. They had a strong sense of confidence as they approached us, but that was because they didn't know our secret. I gave the signal, and scores of small units of warriors came from their hiding places. For a short, almost unnoticed moment, the elves hesitated. We had them. Although they still outnumbered us, we had a secret weapon. Each and every one of our soldiers, except me,  was a believer and he could harness the power of the gods to his aid. And they did. When the dark menace tentacle arrived, many warriors were already blessed and with a unique sense of holiness, they charged. At the beginning of the battle we arranged an archers unit, which I was the head of, and we alone killed two scores of them. When we no longer could aim safely at our opponents, we took our spears and charged like maniacs. I felt as though they shamed my race. I pierced and parried, sending one after the other to the mud. I could hear Miran's spells high above the cries of battle and could see strange colorful rays of light hitting dark elves, followed by a shattering scream. I could also hear prayers from my neighboring fighters all through the battle. After an exhausting hour of fighting, the battle ceased. We had won. A roaring cry of victory came from each and every mouth in the battlefield, including mine. I checked and saw that all my friends were still alive.

 We buried the dead and burnt the corpses of our enemies. We sent a courier to notify all of our victory. The menace was beaten hard, but not defeated, yet. After that battle many warriors and power wielders joined our ranks. Our army grew everyday. We decided to fight the menace until it was gone, forever. Led by Miran, Xeron, Shimara and me, our troops marched west, defeating the remains of the dark elves' tribe. Many died in those battles. Although we were stronger, they still used black magic. After twenty days, we reached their camp. Miran told me that the forces of magic were strong there. He said we couldn't infiltrate it; they were protected, but I had a plan.

I gathered all our priests and magicians and instructed them on what to do. They all agreed it might work. The next day, snow began to fall, forming a white, soft layer that we all appreciated. It gave us confidence that the gods were with us. Observed by all of the remaining black tribe, we began to chant. The sounds of prayers rose above the sound of the panicking elves. Each and every one of us used his faith in power. My only prayer was to Gutha - that she would help us. The names of hundreds of gods were heard across the plain. And they answered. Slowly, the protecting aura of magic around the elves' camp weakened, withered and then, disappeared completely.

I led the final assault on the black menace. With my spear  in my hand, I ran towards the dark elves' camp, followed by my troops. When I glanced back, I could see Shimara and Miran, but I couldn't see the others. With a strange impulse, I waved them good-bye. I raced towards the camp, killing everyone in sight. They had few magicians left to protect them. When I reached the center of the camp, I saw him. The master magician stared at me, grinning. He raised his hands and called  upon all the powers he could muster. Before he could finish the charm, I threw my spear at him, but I knew it was too late. I knew I wouldn't survive this battle, but I also knew I would never die."

None had seen the 'Battle of the Lasts' so no one could tell where His body was. But everyone knew he was killed. Although they won, the grieving warriors gathered at the center of camp to pay last respects to their leader. They burnt the pierced master wizard. The only reminder of Him was a skeletal hand made of a strange material that shone in the sun's color. The golden hand became His symbol and the symbol of what he represented.

Thus, with the last two obstacles removed, ended the legend of the Prophet, and began the era of prosperity.