Phil Partington and Dyane Forde thought it’d be a fun exercise to start a Campfire story where different bloggers from around the web, would add a chapter to a continuing story. A few weeks ago Phil got the ball rolling. Today, I throw my hat into the ring with Chapter four….An Omen. Catch up with the story so far by following the links below.
“Who are you?”
James didn’t answer, he couldn’t. His body burned with the fire of the pyres in his dream. His parched mouth felt as dry as the white sands he laid upon and his body ached from shivering all night in the desert chill.
“You FOOL!” His brother yelled in his head. “ First, you lose Po, the Well’s guardian, and the only man that knows the secret of its Healing energy. And if you have any hope of finding him, you’ll need to get to the City of Flames. Which is miles away, but you’re in the clutches of a Dolemen scout party. James, the self-proclaimed Savior of Telluric, you’re DEAD!”
He grabbed the hidden amulet under his shirt. “ Mother Goddess keep me!” he prayed under his breath.
“ Who are you!” The man pushed harder on James’ entombed hand. He yelled, as the sharp pain flash through his body. “Please.”
The man withdrew his scimitar that gleamed in the light of the warm orange sun. He placed the sharp tip at James throat, raising his head as bright blood trickled all the way down to the shaft. “ Tell me or die here, stranger.”
Suddenly the wind rose, kicking the sand off the tips of the large Dunes in the distance into a violent swirling cloud. The dark twister headed in their direction, while flashes of lightning streaked within its veil as it drifted across the morning sky.
The funnel of electric energy hovered over them in an astonishing display of light and dark terror that had them all gasping.
” A dark omen!”the men yelled with fear.
Then just as unexpectedly, the wind died and the cloud dissipated. They all stared in awe as the last flicker of lighting zoomed across a cloudless blue sky.
For James, it reminded him of Mr. Smoke, Po, elaborate departure. It also reinforced his purpose for descending on this land of devastation. The leather clad men, however, had grasped their traditional blades priming for an attack while mumbling among themselves. He understood only bits and pieces of their archaic dialect.
While the dissipating cloud distracted his captor and everyone else, James allowed his eyes to wander for a means of escape. He saw two men huddled together away from the others, they gestured toward the sky. Their mannerisms seemed older than the rest, although he could only see their eyes. They spoke inaudibly.
“ What is this?” His captor removed his foot from James hand, but kept the blade at his throat.
James turned his attention back on him, seeing angst laced his dark eyes. If he was honest, that display shook him too.
“Witchery!” The blade holder, drew more blood.
“I didn’t do that, it wasn’t me!”
One of the two older men reached over and yanked the sacred amulet away from James neck.
“Telluric!” He raised the amulet to show the others. “He’s Telluric!
The second older man bent to look in James face, his eyes, weathered and worn. He moved the blade away with a gentle hand. “My name is Ormar, what is yours?”
“Water, I need water!”
The old man removed a lamb’s bladder from his hip and James grabbed it. He gulped the water too fast, spilling most of it in the process.
“ Water is life.” The old man took the bladder out of James’ trembling hands. “It must be taken slowly.” Then he raised James’ head, waited until he opened his mouth, before pouring the cool water in.
When James had his fill, he thanked the old man. “ Thank you Ormar.”
“Thank me by telling me your name Tellurician? And why you’re voyaging through my Father’s land?”
Words count 607
That’s my story what’s yours?
Want to know what will James do now? Who are the Tellurician? What is this Land of the Dolemen? What the heck is this Well and can it heal? Only YOU can fill in the blanks! Care to join in? Click here to see the rules and give it a go!
Copyright © 2013 Glynis Rankin