Root (Energy Anthology) (6 page)

Although they held the information of their kind in its entirety, they alone were not complete. They found their energy had been siphoned away, iota by iota. The limited cycles of an incomplete collective were not enough for the energy to recycle and rebuild itself. They needed a base point for an inclusive beginning, and they were running out of time to find it.

It was agreed joining a lower vibrational species would be the best chance of their survival— a return to the very root of existence was better than a total loss of their awareness.

The first beings they had encountered had already advanced farther than Lam and The Remnant would have liked, but, in their desperation, had chosen to proceed.

Four of them had been selected to descend and transition into their midst. The plan was to cohabit the existing structures and bodies of the beings, and begin to spread among them, providing a complete cycle for their energy essence to flow freely through. At first, it seemed they had found salvation, but time revealed another outcome— the vibrational structure of the beings proved to be too high to accept a permanent merging. The four pioneers were repeatedly disconnected from their hosts, kicked out over and over until they were finally rejected completely.

They were too dissipated by that point to be able to return to The Remnant.

After such a loss, Lam and the other cherishers were much more cautious in their planning, and all the more hesitant to attempt further vibrational transitions.

They had found three other potential societies before coming to this solar system. Long periods of observation had offered no clues of a solution for them, and brought The Remnant to the decision of passing on all three.

Their time had now nearly expired.

When this place had been discovered, the long, routine observation period began again. Although this was by far the lowest vibrational, least evolved society they had encountered, the remaining eight of The Remnant knew that, success or failure, this was their last stop.

Lam specifically had reached the point of willingness to risk his own awareness for the sake of the group, and when he recognized that the beings of this place were repeating the same pattern he had seen send his own society spiraling into dissolution, it had sealed his decision to descend. He would attempt a cohabitation.

When the body of the one called Pael was seen to be abandoned, the action of entering the body was no sooner thought than done, and the detail of no other awareness inhabiting the body simultaneously proved to be just the key to a successful transition.

Lam refocused his full awareness to the seven around him.

I have found it. We are saved.

• ELEVEN •

“You found it? Good! Now get up— quick!”

Lam slowly opened his eyes to find he was back beside the fire, lying on his back. Twilight had settled around them. He had fallen backwards off the log, but his legs remained draped over it. Ch’kara was awake and kneeling over him with a concerned look on her face. Her expression quickly shifted to relief as she saw he had regained consciousness.

The Shen-Ma stood over his other side. Her walking stick was poised to jab him if necessary. The expression she wore was one of deep sadness that did not shift as she lowered her stick to the ground.

“Lam,” she said.

“You mean ‘Son of Ric’ua,’” he laughed, feeling much more confident than before.

The Shen-Ma’s frown only deepened.

“No. You are now Lam, for the reason of you have now fully embraced and accepted your destiny,” she paused and sighed, “And for the reason of you are no longer the son of Ric’ua.”

Lam sat upright. “Because I am not Pael.”

“Because Ric’ua no longer lives.”

He leapt to his feet. “What are you saying?”

The old woman turned slightly away and did not answer for a moment. He looked to Ch’kara and saw it was apparent she was just as surprised as he was by this information. He looked to the sky and saw the cloud was now nowhere to be seen.

His eyes returned to the Shen-Ma as she heaved a tremendous sigh.

“The Gildok tribe has once again attacked our peaceful village while we have been here. Though all were innocent, most have not survived,” she wiped tears from her cheeks, “Including your mother.”

“What? How is this possible? How do you know?” he demanded. “Why did you not tell me, and let me go
help…?
” He trailed off as Ch’kara placed her hand on his shoulder.

“This was needed, now more than ever,” the old woman whispered. “Sometimes the Great Way also involves great loss.” She sat heavily to the log, visibly exhausted. He had never seen the Seer this way. “I brought you here because it was time. There was no more time.

“And now it is time once again. You are ready.” She looked up and met his eyes.

“Was…” he slowly said, afraid of the answer, “Was this done… because of… me?” Images of the previous flames consuming his home flashed through his mind.

She shook her head. “No, Lam. This one was not because of you.” She waved her hand in the direction of the village. “Go. Be the Seed.”

Ch’kara sat beside the old woman to indicate she intended to stay. Lam looked toward the village, then back at the women. Both turned their backs to him.

He felt a panic in his chest as he broke into a run. How could this be real? Things had just begun to feel as if they were falling into place. A loving mother, a place in the community, a promising romantic relationship with a beautiful girl, and the discovery of answers to his own life— how could this have happened now?

Tears swam in the corners of his eyes as Lam raced through the forest as fast as he could, dodging tree branches and bushes. He stepped in a hole and fell to his knees. The cry that escaped his lips as he went down startled him. He intentionally yelled again in frustration as he scrambled back up and continued on.

He broke through the tree line and stopped in his tracks.

There were no fires, no smoke. There were not even any broken or crushed huts that he could see. But there was silence. Unnatural stillness.

And there were bodies.

The people who should have been quite active, even at this evening hour, preparing the village for the night, now lay in various places, at awkward angles. He saw no blood on the ground or on the clothes. There was no evidence of cuts or bruises on the bodies, yet still they lay there, clearly dead.

“No, no, no!”

He bolted for his own hut, side-stepping and jumping over the fallen. He yanked down the animal skin door covering and burst inside.

His mother lay unmoving on the ground, her arm outstretched toward the doorway.

Lam dropped to his knees. He remained speechless and unmoving, unable to take his eyes from Ric’ua.

Suddenly, he threw back his head and screamed.

Lam screamed the scream of one who has lost and lost and lost. He ran out of breath, clenched his fists tighter, inhaled another lungful of air, and screamed again. Again and again he yelled and cried and howled, pouring every ounce of anguish and anger into the sounds.

When he could cry no more, and had no voice left to scream with, Lam slowly stood. He gathered up the animal skin, and laid it over Ric’ua’s body.

“Goodbye, mother,” he whispered.

He emerged to find Ch’kara sitting on the ground in front of the hut, her legs crossed and her head low.

“Lam,” she began.

He lifted a hand, stopping her.

“The Shen-Ma is gone as well, isn’t she?”

Ch’kara nodded, and collapsed into the dirt.

• TWELVE •

Lam rushed to Ch’kara in desperation. He had already lost seemingly everything else in this life, he would
not
lose her as well.

The urge to flee this place was nearly overwhelming, and he could not shake the feeling of being watched, yet still he took the time to attempt to wake this young woman he felt such a pull to. If the Gildoks were still here, they would have to take him in order to get to her. These feelings overrode the fear pumping through his body.

Had she become victim to the same thing that had killed the rest of the people? No, he could see she was still breathing, which allowed him to release his breath again.

Unable to rouse Ch’kara, yet unable to sit in the open any longer, Lam gathered her limp body and lifted her in his arms. He turned in a circle, and decided that heading east, away from the Gildok land, was the best choice.

He set off into the trees, scrambling along the rocks, leaves, and fallen tree branches as quickly as he could. The electricity of his adrenaline and fear flowed freely, empowering his racing legs and mind. Why was there no blood to be seen on any of the bodies? How had the Gildoks done this monstrous deed? The Shen-Ma had known what was happening, yet had done nothing. Why was
that?

Lam looked up through a small clearing as he passed by, and saw the cloud was not above him. Had it been overhead in the village? He’d been too distracted to notice, but did remember it had been gone when he woke beside the Shen-Ma’s fire.

Had The Remnant left him as well?

Lam shoved these thoughts from his mind. He could not handle if even they had gone. If Ch’kara did not survive this, he would truly be alone. Looking down at her face again, he was overcome with both a feeling of love for her and the fear of losing her. Tears streamed down his face as the emotions formed a whirlwind within him.

Suddenly, Lam stopped in his tracks. He struggled to control and silence his labored breathing as he tilted his head and listened intently to the sounds around him.

Had that been voices he’d just heard?

Now that he stood still, Ch’kara’s weight pulled at his arms. He strained to maintain a tight hold on her yet remain aware of the forest around him.

A low tone reached his ears, briefly rising, then falling, definitely the sound of voices speaking— and growing louder.

Lam searched his surroundings in alarm. He dashed behind a fallen tree and carefully laid Ch’kara on the ground behind it before laying beside her himself. He grabbed a branch of thick fern leaves and pulled it across the top of them just as the source of the voices came into view.

Peeking over the tree log, Lam saw three heads moving slowly along. They spoke softly to each other. Their manner seemed to be calm, yet cautious, as if aware things could change at any moment.

Lam raised himself a bit more to try to see the people’s clothing. If these were Gildok, he knew he may end up having to fight, and he wasn’t sure he had the strength left for that.

The people abruptly stopped and turned his direction. Lam quickly dropped fully behind the log, cursing under his breath. Had they heard him? He shut his eyes tight and held his breath, listening.

After moments of nothing but the natural sounds of the forest, he began to wonder if they had moved on, but he had not heard any footsteps. He willed his body to relax its tension, and wait a bit longer.

Strong hands suddenly grabbed him and yanked him to his feet. Beside him, Ch’kara’s body was lifted as well. Lam released a shout as loud as his hoarse voice would allow, and began swinging his fists and kicking his feet. A second pair of hands quickly caught his legs and held him fast. He bucked and twisted and screamed all the more.

“Whoa, whoa!” one of the men said. “Easy! We will not hurt you, son of Ric’ua!”

Lam grew still and took his first close look at the men. He recognized the one holding his legs from the grove field. The one holding Ch’kara’s unconscious body also looked vaguely familiar. He could not clearly see the man holding his own upper body, but he saw the clothing they wore were from his own village.

“You are the son of Ric’ua?” asked the one holding Ch’kara.

“I know he is,” replied the one holding Lam’s arms, before he could respond for himself, “And that one you hold is the daughter of my brother!”

It was Terlikk, the neighbor who had offered them his home when fire had been set to their own! “I thought all had perished…” Lam whispered, sinking into the man’s arms.

“We are very much alive,” Terlikk laughed sadly, “And were afraid
you
were the ones who were dead!”

“But… how did you escape the Gildoks?”

The man who held his feet answered as he set them down. “We were nearest the edge of our village clearing when they attacked, yet still we barely escaped with our lives.”

“What has happened to my niece?” Terlikk asked.

Lam was grateful to see the one who held Ch’kara was now supporting her head. “We were with the Shen-Ma when we heard the village was being attacked again. Ch’kara stayed with the Shen-Ma while I ran to help defend the people.” He sank to the ground again, and leaned against the fallen tree.

“I was too late.”

Terlikk sat on the log beside him, and placed a gentle hand on Lam’s shoulder as he continued. “There were bodies everywhere, I thought the whole village had been murdered. I ran for my own home, and,” a sob escaped him, “Found my mother was among the… gone.”