The Ancients A Tale of Survival

Can We Trust Them

Dárkmëre kept his eyes peeled as he followed Äçåçiå after Âkįŀ and the natives he was with. He didn't trust the natives because they didn't trust him. Ever since they had come to this land they had been constantly watched and randomly attacked. Dárkmëre still carried the scar on his right bicep from the native that had tried to stab him in the chest years ago.

Äçåçiå stumbled and Dárkmëre steadied her. She smiled back at him with aquamarine eyes that seemed to go so well with her burnished hair. Dárkmëre returned his smile before he glared at one of the native men that had stepped up to help Acacia. The man held up his hands and said something in their strange language before he went back to walking.

"How far must we travel Âkįŀ?"

Âkįŀ's voice drifted back to Dárkmëre as he answered Äçåçiå's question. "There is a sacred pond in that strand of trees up ahead. That is where we are going. We will meet some more of the natives there."

"Can they be trusted?"

Âkįŀ glanced over his shoulder to throw Dárkmëre a look. "We can trust no one, but these natives are trustable."

"You better be right Âkįŀ because if not I will kick your ass."

Âkįŀ laughed as he adjusted his feet so they headed in a more southerly direction. "If you don't kick my ass then Äçåçiå, Uncle Jåcóbӱ, or Mom and Dad will. I know what I'm talking about."

"How did you meet them?"

"They approached me on one of my hunting trips. I wasn't killed so I figured that I could get to know them better. We need all the help we can get to survive those who hunt us. This land that we're in was once filled with magic and a race of giants. The stories are alive in the natives and I believe that their stories can help us."

Dárkmëre couldn't help but shake his head. Âkįŀ had always been unpredictable. It had driven their parents crazy till he reached manhood. Äçåçiå was the ying to Âkįŀ's yang. They fit each other and complemented each other. Sometimes Dárkmëre envied them their closeness, but he wouldn't give them up for the entire world.

They reached the trees just as it started to rain. Äçåçiå pulled up the hood she wore and retreated into her cloak. Âkįŀ did the same, but Dárkmëre raised his face to the rain and smiled. He enjoyed the rain. Dárkmëre noticed the one native watching Äçåçiå with curiosity. Dárkmëre moved up between them and gave the man a look that said that Äçåçiå was off limits. The native seemed to take the hint because he refused to look at Äçåçiå after that.

"I can take care of myself Dárkmëre."

Dárkmëre looked down at his sister and gave her a brotherly smile. "I know Äçåçiå, but you are my sister. It is my job and Âkįŀ's to protect you, even if that means steering interested men the other way."

Äçåçiå sighed. "I will end up marrying someday Dárkmëre. How am I to meet someone if you two are always frightening them off?"

Âkįŀ laughed from up ahead and turned around and walked backwards so that he could talk to Äçåçiå. The native woman next to him put her hand on his arm and guided him as he was preoccupied. "It is not us who frighten them off. You have such a strong aura that it makes other people nervous. You will find a man who can see past your aura to the real you. Dárkmëre's and my job is to weed out the weaklings who aren't strong enough to deal with you."

Äçåçiå looked up at Dárkmëre with wounded eyes. "Is that true?"

Dárkmëre gave her a reassuring smile. "Yes, but it's the same with Âkįŀ. Both of you have strong auras. It's enough to make people nauseous sometimes. It'll take a strong person to deal with both of you."

An unexpected giggle escaped Äçåçiå as they came to the sacred pond. A group of about a dozen natives looked up in surprise as they came into view. Dárkmëre steeled himself for the conversation to come. He didn't trust these natives and he knew in his heart of hearts that Âkįŀ and Acacia didn't either. All they could do was listen to what these natives wanted. They didn't have to agree to what was said. They needed all the help they could get. The world couldn't withstand another disaster. These were the times when Dárkmëre wished that the old Gods were still around.