THE OLD MADE NEW

The Nimerigar

NIMERIGAR

Blood pooled on the windswept crest of the boulder, issuing forth from the smashed-in face of an elder.  A light drizzle, more upsetting than raining, feebly tried to wash the blood from the stone.  What the pathetic precipitation was able to do, however, was to prevent the other, living figure from starting a fire on the rock-face.

Tiny hands tried to start a fire with sparks, but they might as well have used the curses issuing from their owner’s mouth; the drizzle made the tinder too damp.  After a few more tries and prolific swearing the little hands threw down their fire-making tools.  A few strange words succeeded where tools failed—the fire roared to life.

The small hands belonged to an equally small form, the entirety of which stood roughly two feet tall.  It wore clothing of buckskin, and beaded moccasins on its little feet.  A quiver of arrows was slung across its broad back, and an elegant bow lay close at hand.  The little man pulled a sharp knife from a sheathe at his hip and used the tool to carve up the dead body.

“You were too old,” he said to the corpse, “and could no longer contribute to the tribe.  In death you can provide what you could not in life, and we thank you for these gifts.  I, Akule, shall live because of your death, Elder.” Akule’s voice was full of sadness and reverence as he addressed his dead elder.  The tribe was no more; only the little man remained now.  Most of his people were killed fighting for what little land they could claim from the humans, and years of battle had thinned all the tribes.  His tribe ended with the death of his elder, for there could not be a tribe of one; thus, he pushed the name of the tribe from his memory.

Akule sat in sad silence as he cooked and ate his elder, a grim task he performed to protect his kind from the destructive curiosity of humanity.  Years ago humans had found the remains of one of his elder’s elders in San Pedro, but that led to no end of trouble.  The body was recovered, and the nimerigar were the last of the magical folk to agree to the Pact and swear the Oath.

“Ha, but there be very few nimerigar left to honor the Pact and the Oath,” he observed with a snort.  “I have seen none but the Elder for the last decade, so I might be the last of us!”  Nimerigar were known as “tiny people eaters” among the Shoshone for good reason, a moniker that Akule gladly proved as he feasted upon his own kind.  Nimerigar and Shoshone had lived in this region for generations, but the railroad brought the white man, and the white man killed the buffalo.  And the land.  And the Shoshone.

“Meh.  Not as good as human,” he remarked to himself during the meal.

Akule ate his fill and burned the rest of the meat.  After devouring his kin he set to work on the bones.  The corpse they had recently come from was nearly a foot taller than the little man, who had been considered the runt of the litter in his tribe.  He attached the hands to the skull at the wrists, which made the fingers look like macabre antlers.  This he then fashioned into a helmet for himself.  The rest of the bones became grisly armor. 

The last thing to clean up was the blood.  The wishy-washy rainfall made cleaning it a simple task, and Akule used the Elder’s clothes to scrub the rock clean.  This done, he incinerated them.  The Elder was no more, and none of the hikers or campers that frequented Vedauwoo park would ever suspect the ashes of the fire contained the remnants of a nimerigar.

“How, Akule,” came a sweet, sing-song voice.  Even still, the nimerigar was rankled.

“I hate it when you say that,” he replied.

“Well, how am I supposed to greet one of your people?”

“Damnit, Esperance, you could just say ‘hello’!” he swore at the faerie.  She only laughed as she glided along beside him.

“But it’s so much more fun to make you grumpy,” Esperance said.  “We both could use more fun in our lives.”  Akule only nodded.

“I might be the only nimerigar left on Earth,” Akule stated flatly.  Esperance stuttered in her flight, as if she had tripped over something in surprise.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“Meh.  You already are the last faerie.  There are less and less magical folk every year.  Humanity wins,” Akule kicked a stone for emphasis.

“Not necessarily,” Esperance said slyly.  “I’ve located someone who has a true wish in her soul.  I’m going to see her tonight.”  At this news the nimerigar stopped.

“Really?” he asked, carefully trying to temper his excitement.

“Yes.  That’s why I’m here.  I wanted…I wanted to see you one last time,” Esperance wore sorrow like a cloak.  Akule toed the ground, not sure what to say to someone facing extinction.

“Your kind could have cooperated with mine,” Akule grumbled, stirring up an old fight.

“What, wipe out the faeries to save the nimerigar?  Is that what you would have had us do?” she shouted.

“Yes! No, well…damnit, Esperance, the world is just so…”

“Dead,” finished Esperance from tear-stained lips.  The two continued down the path in silence for a time, the only sound the clicking of Akule’s bone-armor.

“Well…what about what we talked about that one night?” he began awkwardly.  Esperance’s fey face lit up, the cloak cast off.

“That’s why I’m here.  I can’t promise that it will work, mind you,” she warned, but he shook his head.

“If there is even a chance, then we need to try,” he said and began to undress.  Esperance used her magic to…accommodate…the larger nimerigar, and the pair attempted to create pregnancy from nothing.

“So, when she makes her wish…?”

“I will die,” Esperance confirmed.

“And our child?” Akule asked gruffly.

“If this union bears fruit, it will not die with me,” Esperance said.  The two watched the sun set after their intercourse—not lovemaking, for there was no love in it—until finally Esperance stood to go.

“If her wish is as true as you say it is, there is hope for us all, right?” Akule asked the retreating faerie.  His black hair was framed by the last rays of the sun and the wondrous shades the Wyoming sky turned when day goes to sleep.  Night sounds began slowly at first, and the stars boldly conquered the night sky and held it for the moon.

“Yes, there is still hope.  I used magic to ensure that I was fertile, so with a little luck…”

“Luck! Blast it, Esperance, the entire magical world is dying, and the only thing that could keep it from disappearing forever is luck?!”

“In this world, magic is finite! Damn your incurable sensibility.  You know, I could have spent my last night with Yuuma,” she retorted, and the nimerigar sighed.

“You’re right, Esperance.  About everything.  I am sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry; I’m not.  Besides, we both know it’s your traditions that will give our child a hope of making the changes needed to save magic.  Yuuma’s heart is full of greed.  Yours is full of—”

“Stop.  I don’t want to know what is in my heart,” the little man said quickly.  Esperance nodded.

“What will you do, Akule?”

“The only thing left for me to do:  I am going to face the dragon.”