Darkened Pillars

[Kuzuru]

Cinder stood and watched as her fellow Blades traveled deeper into the Steppes. In their wake they left a serpent of dust and ash which drifted high into the air only to settle in their wake. Danger hung in the air, acrid and sour. Her nose crinkled with every whiff of it. In one hand she held her weapon of choice, a sword which was more akin to a broken machete. Had Kuzuru asked her to accompany him she would have declined. This was not her battle, nor did she particularly wish to see the demon succeed. His path was one of wanton destruction and while she followed a similar path of violence she was a defender, not a conqueror. As she stood and watched them head into battle her gaze drifted across to a distant corner of the Steppes. A familiar corner. The Coyotle warrior sniffed the air once more and turned back inside. As she walked her pace quickened, each step picking up in intensity as she half-ran deeper into the Ashen Fortress. An urgency had gripped her indeed. She reached her room and flung open the door. Inside she had already filled a leather rucksack with all the essentials needed for several days worth of survival. Around her waist she fastened a series of three water-skins and over her torso she threw a poncho. Her blade was sheathed at her hip and after taking a quick inventory to make sure she had not missed anything the Coyotle girl raced outside once again.

Were she a prime she could have summoned a mount of some sort, but alas that was not a luxury afforded to secondaries. Not that she necessarily minded the walk, her bent back legs meant that she could walk for miles without feeling the slightest hints of fatigue. In fact were it not for the aforementioned darkness lingering in the air she would have much enjoyed the hike. Still Cinder had no choice but to make her way on foot. She followed the carved stairs that snaked their way down the mountain and entered into a brisk jog once she reached the base of the mountain. Some instinctual sense of direction guided the warrior, a sort of internal compass that she had managed to develop over her lifetime kept her pointed in the right direction. As she ran across the Steppes she grew faintly aware of the darkening of overhead clouds. Perhaps it was a simple increase in pyroclastic activity, perhaps not. Either way she had no control over the weather, and kept her mind focused on what lie ahead.

After a few hours worth of travel the girl stopped to rest. Nearby several plates of shale upheaved themselves from the earth and sat basking in the red sun. They formed a sort of ringed formation and offered weary travelers respite from the overbearing sun. She removed her poncho and draped the garment across one of the shaded plates and took a seat. She panted and gorged her belly on water. An unfortunate side-effect of her canine genes meant that she was unable to sweat as easily as a human could. Temperature regulation was achieved in much the same matter as a dog, through the mouth. While she could travel quite efficiently she was limited by the heat, which there was no short supply of in the Steppes. Cinder wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood. Her ears twitched and she stood still and simply listened. The far off echo and call of thunder rumbled throughout the mountainous terrain, while the occasional lava surge or eruption added calamitous background noise. Still her ears, biological radar dishes, scanned the horizons. A shuffling was heard. Perhaps it was nothing, but the sound grew closer. Something was being dragged across the ash-covered ground nearby. Slowly she unsheathed her weapon and crouched low.

Movement caught her eye. Something shifted nearby and her eyes locked on. A figure, shrouded in an almost ink-like blackness shambled into view. She watched as the beast carried itself into the ring of shale. Two red eyes, burning like coals scanned its surroundings. It moved again, dragging along its own mangled leg. Cinder watched as the thing struggled to stay upright. She had seen these things on the news before. They were what her companions had set out to fight. With the ferocity of a cobra she unfurled from her hiding spot and dashed her blade against the darkspawn's neck. Her weapon hacked through the viscous sludge that comprised the being's body and cleaved it's head clean off. She watched as it crumpled before her. Cinder sheathed her weapon and grabbed her poncho. As she stepped outside the ring of shale she threw the poncho back on and scanned her surroundings. The creature had made a trail in the ash and dirt, its leg leaving a trench in its wake. She followed the trail with her eyes and her heart sank.

It came from where she was headed.

Without another thought she set forth again, this time with renewed vigor. Her muscles strained and stretched themselves to accommodate her bounding pace. Every stride pulled her light frame closer to her goal at a breakneck speed, and still she cursed her inadequate pace. She had intended to stop once more to rest, but tossed the notion aside. Time was of the essence and every moment she spent mulling about was another moment that those things had to harm her tribe. On the horizon she stopped the pillars of stacked stone that served as her clan's ritual grounds. Further past the pillars her eyes spotted a smattering of tepees. She breathed a sigh of relief, it was still there. Distant figures moved about, and upon noticing her approach, moved to greet her. Her pace did not slow until she reached the edge of the ritual grounds. Cinder came to a halt, panting and grasping for her water-skins.

"Welcome home Cinder Salt," Ahanu's familiar voice spoke, "I was starting to get worried."

[Kuzuru]

“Ahanu,” the warrior addressed her Eldar with a bowed head, “I’ve come to defend the tribe.”

The elder Coyotle smiled and motioned for her to raise her head. A cloak covered in crimson scales hung loose over his body, hiding his limbs in a shroud of salamander hide. He turned his back on the collection of warriors that stood semi-circle around Cinder. For a long time nothing was said and were it not for the distant rumbling of volcanic activity silence would have enveloped them.

“Yes,” Ahanu began, pausing a second to collect himself, “our adversaries seem quite intent on our destruction, and I fear they cannot be reasoned with.”

He sighed and continued, “a shame, truly, I believe what we are dealing with is beyond common decency.”

Cinder stepped forward and spoke, “do not worry Ahanu, harm will not come to the tribe so long as I draw breath.”

“A bold claim,” the largest of the warriors spoke up, “but you’ve been gone for many cycles now, and the last we’ve seen of you was your tail between your legs as you fled from that demon, how can we be so sure of your allegiance, let alone your aptitude for combat.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed on the goliath. The anthropomorphic coyote stood a clean foot over his peers and carried a hefty frame to match his height. Across his shoulders rested a single-edged blade that was erring on the side of ridiculously heavy. Red rings of dye wrapped around his wrists and neck, denoting that he was a member of the Coyotle’s vaunted warrior caste.

“I live to serve the tribe Ashpaws,” Cinder answered, “and if anything I’ve grown stronger in my absence.”

“Or have you grown traitorous?” Ashpaws countered.

Cinder growled and stepped towards her detractor.

“Enough!” Ahanu shouted, his voice echoing throughout them.

The two warriors flinched and bowed their heads in respect. Ahanu adopted a stern disposition, one that seemed quite at odds with his normally carefree demeanor. In his hand he held a spear adorned with all sorts of baubles and trinkets. His eyes pierced through them like gimlets. As he walked he used the spear as a third leg and every step jingled and clanged as the ornamentations clattered against themselves.

“I will not stand for your bickering while our people are in peril, Cinder’s allegiance is none of your concern, Ashpaws, if I felt she was a threat she would not have been welcomed so warmly, and,” he said, turning his attention to Cinder, “you’d do well to control your temper Cinder Salt.”

For a time none of them spoke and they wallowed in the hot wave of embarrassment that their admonishment brought. Ahanu’s demeanor softened and a reserved smile slipped across his lips. The elder looked towards the ashen sky and then back to the warriors that had gathered before him.

“It seems even the stars hide themselves from us this night, an ill omen indeed,” he paused, choosing his next words carefully, “it is no matter, we shall weather this coming tide of darkness, for our path is one of survival, now please, all of you, prepare yourselves for the coming storm and make peace with the Gods above.”

[Kuzuru]

Tides of darkness flowed across the horizon. It was if Omni himself had spilled a jar of ink across the Ashen Steppes. They marched from the direction of the Koopa Kingdom. It was a small force compared to the overwhelming horde that drove itself against the Koopas, but it was large enough to cause a stir within the Coyotle ranks. Even the Empire’s constant harassment paled in comparison to the chittering masses set against them now. As they marched they smothered the world around them, growing stronger with every passing moment. The Coyotle warriors moved to meet them on the open fields of the Steppes. It was some distance away from the village that the two forces clashed.

Cinder held her own against the oppressive wall of bodies thrown against her. Her weapon, though a fraction of its former size, carved through the tide with ease. However it was not the individual skill or lethality of each darkspawn, but rather the sheer number of bodies that filled their ranks. For every corrupted being Cinder brought low three took its place. The young Coyotle warrior paid no mind to her kin. They fell and they triumphed, but that was the way of the warriors. Their lives were forfeit for the greater good of the tribe.

The natives fought valiantly against the encroaching darkness, but valiance could only carry them so far. Fatigue took its toll on the defenders. Cinder watched as her fellows were slain over the course of an hour or so. Friends that she had grown up with slaughtered before her very eyes. Ahanu watched with a grim countenance. Before long the warriors had been reduced to only a handful of the most tenacious Coyotles. Darklings trickled past the defenders, unfettered now to raid the village proper. Ahanu whispered a prayer and moved to the forefront of the village. Cinder swore and disengaged, falling back to defend the village.

“Brothers and sisters,” Ahanu called, his regal voice cutting over the din of battle, “remember the teachings of the Elder Ones, so long as your pillar stands do not raise arms against another living being. For violence is the charge of those that have lost their path and its wicked ways may only be wrought by those forlorn individuals. Although we may forfeit our lives today we shall live forever in the Great Outlands!”

As he finished his piece the young Cinder Salt rushed past him. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

“Cinder, where are you going?” He asked, and added, “are you fleeing? Have I misjudged your return?”

“Ahanu, we need to leave, the storm that is upon us is to great to weather,” he answered, “our warriors are being slaughtered and everyone else will soon follow suit if we do not flee!”

He sighed and shook his head, “we would never make it, with the children, elderly, and infirm in our ranks we would never be able to outrun them.”

“So we will leave them behind, otherwise our entire race will be erased from the map” she said.

Ahanu’s voice trembled as he replied, “we will live together or die together, Cinder, and I am astonished that you would even suggest such a monstrous thing, now return to the battle at hand and serve your purpose warrior.”

The two locked eyes for a moment before Cinder’s eyes flicked back to the approaching creatures. She snatched her arm away from Ahanu and took a few steps back.

“My purpose is to protect this tribe,” she said, “and if the weak must die so that the rest may live, well, then so be it.”

Without another word she turned and ran towards her goal. She ran through the heart of the village, rushing past those that she had sworn to protect. Cinder did not stop running until she had reached the sacred stone pillars on the edge of the village. These pillars were constructed by stacking thin discs of stone upon one another, and each pillar represented a member of the tribe. It was believed that one’s column was linked to the spirit of the earth and in turn their spirit was grounded in the mortal world. Those whose pillars had been toppled were no longer bound to the mortal world and their bodies were interred into the warrior caste. She staked her sword into the ground and walked up to the nearest pillar. Cinder sighed and then pushed against the stacked stones. They collapsed easily and she moved on to the next column.

[Kuzuru]

War had taken its toll and though the Coyotles stood victorious their souls wept. Death was not the worst fate to befall a Coyotle, in fact they revered the ever present cycle of life and death. No, death was largely considered nothing more than another journey in one’s life. However death did not come for all of them this day, instead a more insidious act was perpetrated by a member of their own kind. Cinder had committed the greatest of sins by toppling their pillars. She had sullied their souls and destroyed their spirituality in one well-intentioned swoop. She stood before the handful of her kin that had survived.

“Cinder Salt!” Ashpaws shouted as he stormed through the crowd, “what have you done!?”

Cinder did not answer right away, pausing for a few moments before finally saying, “we survived.”

“Survived?” Ashpaws screamed, “Ahanu is dead and our pillars are destroyed, what kind of survival is this!?”

“My purpose was to protect our tribe,” Cinder answered, “as was yours, had I not acted we would have all perished to Nebula.”

“You will answer for this Cinder Salt,” Ashpaws declared.

By now a semi-circle of Coyotles and humans had surrounded them. Cinder scanned the crowd. Where there had once been mirth only uncertainty remained. Leaderless vagabonds unable to even pray to their gods. Those without a pillar become warriors, bodies without souls who exist to protect the tribe. What purpose did they have without a tribe to protect? Cinder stared down her challenger.

“And who will I answer to?” She asked.

Ashpaws growled and said, “you will answer to the elders and the gods.”

“What elders Ashpaws? There are none left, and the gods do not care about us,” Cinder said, “we are orphans, and I am beholden to no one.”

Ashpaws pointed his sword at her and said, “our only grace is that Ahanu did not live to see this, he would have you exiled.”

Cinder growled and stepped towards him, “do not speak for Ahanu, you are a warrior, you are insignificant and to assume the actions of a sage is a sin, there will be no judgement against me because there is no judge so lower your weapon or I will show you just how far above reproach I am.”

A silence swallowed them, broken only by hushed whispers and the wind. Ashpaws held his blade steady for a moment before lowering it. He spit into the dirt and stormed away.

“If anyone else wishes to stand against me feel free to come and be cut down,” Cinder shouted, “if you want to stay here and die without purpose I won’t stop you, but if you wish to live a life with some semblance of meaning you will follow me!”