Chahzuu loped through the upper terrace of the trees just below the shroud of mist diffusing and spreading the ‘Great Light’. His mind was barely on his travels even as he moved easily from branch to limb faster than he could move on the ground.
His race had evolved in the trees and that was where he felt most at home. His body’s natural defenses mimicked the colors of each background he traveled through, and his smooth, hairless skin -- without sweat glands -- even masked odors another might sense. His body's natural pallor was a mottled green, a natural camouflage, now naked, to afford the greatest defense. Only his scrip was the visible, draped over one shoulder to carry the few items he needed for this journey. The slight crest on his head was tuned to every vibration, keeping him on constant alert for any threat. Every once in awhile he paused, mentally checking his direction. His lanky arms and legs easily maintaining balance high above the jungle floor.
Chahzuu had never traveled here before; had never left his valley home before. Still, he'd seen his way here many times in strange, recurring dreams he'd had since childhood. The dreams had come so often each step, each bush, each tree had been vividly burned into memory.
In his dreams the journey had always been uneventful. That image was now shattered! Something different had happened. He’d faced one of the two Pale Ones.
That had never occurred in his dream . . . at least this early. The Pale Ones always came later.
A small hint of hope rose.
Maybe his path was not set. Maybe it could be changed.
Perhaps I don’t have to die! Or at least be more certain my death will have meaning. Maybe he could save his people and live! It was something he must ponder.
One thing was certain. If he stepped from his path now whatever changes lay ahead, he could do nothing to help his people unless he pressed on.
Chahzuu sprinted lightly through the high foliage as he continued to consider his fate. He’d been set upon this path since he was old enough to realize his dreaming meant something. Once a year, it seemed, he would have the same mystic dream. He was set upon a journey, a quest for the Stone, the Joining, and then the two Pale Ones would appear. At the end, wrought with testing and pain, his inevitable death ended up either a noble sacrifice, saving his people from slavery, or a meaningless gesture.
Over the years he'd resigned himself. It was his Calling, his Khartoose, to see to the safety of his people and to set them on the path of their assigned role as Pontu' Gi; protectors of this world and its people.
Each dream showed both paths, each seeming the same . . . until the end.
To this day he didn’t know what would trigger one path over the other. Chahzuu had spent many sleepless nights fretting over it. He could find no answer. It seemed his fate was sealed by nothing more than capricious chance, whichever way the Guardians decreed.
I will not have it so! He would fight! Cling to whatever strength was left to ensure his people were protected! Chahzuu picked up his pace akin to his purpose.
Already something is different. What does that portend?
Always, there were two Pale Ones – one kindly and virtuous, also willing to sacrifice for Chahzuu’s people; the other wicked, sinister, selfish, and determined to enslave his people.
Each path lead to his death, but at least the first path meant something. His people would be spared and become Pontu’ Gi. In the other path they didn’t. They became slaves to a great evil that would consume the world. It was something he refused to consider. Still, in his dream, he didn’t have a choice . . . Or did he?
I’ve already seen one of the Pale Ones. This is different.
This Pale One was about to be devoured by the Bach-lauh. Had Chahzuu known which of the Pale Ones it was, his decision would have been easier.
It was not part of the dream. Something has changed!
He’d stood on the limb watching the great lizard move forward, considering what he must do. At the last moment he knew he couldn't risk it.
Distracting the great beast had been easy. The Pale One had escaped, but clamored up to his very branch! Meeting face to face had been most disturbing; all out of order. And still Chahzuu didn't know which Pale One it was.
If he stayed would it ruin his pattern, his purpose? It must not!
It was safer to continue on the path he knew. Chahzuu had fled, turning back to the trail his dream had shown.
Still, he wondered. What if I had stayed? Can I change the path and still do what must be done?
Back in his homeland he knew the time had come when the dreams had become a nightly occurrence. There had been no trouble. No indication the peace his people had known for ages was coming to an end – calling his people to war -- to their prophesied role as Pontu' Gi. He just knew it was time to start the journey.
Chahzuu was a Chahkzaa, a seer among his people. He learned the legends, received the Pourtha root, dreamed the vision of what must be, of what he must do . . . of his sacrifice.
Chahzuu caught himself and cleared his mind. I must not be distracted! He would deal with changing paths later. For now he must fulfill his first duty. He must enter the chamber and join with the Stone.