Out of Uca
Copyright 2013 Josh Clarke
Foreword
I have always been fascinated with the expedition of Lewis and Clark. I am amazed at the amount of courage it must have taken to travel to an unknown land. Although some had ventured west before them, it was the first transcontinental expedition undertaken by the United States as a country. Their objectives, as commissioned by Thomas Jefferson, were to study the area’s plants, animal life, and geography. And that is where I think the third president of the United States went wrong.
I thought to myself, wouldn’t it be awesome if Jefferson sent Lewis and Clark out for a different reason than the one he stated? Maybe to investigate some strange extra-terrestrials that were sighted there, or chase down some crazed villain that had escaped prison? I knew that it was highly unlikely that anything of that nature actually occurred, but it was fun to think about. And that’s what got me interested in writing this story.
The best way to describe this altered tale is to say that it is an epic mythologization of a true classic adventure. Most of the main events in the story you are about to read are taken from real life experiences in the expedition of Lewis and Clark, even though they may not appear to have any connection whatsoever. The story uses some of the literary elements of other epic tales, such as Homer’s Odyssey, to give it the characteristics of an epic tale: Fantastical elements such as the hero cycle, supernatural powers, god and goddesses, strange creatures, and intense battles, which, of course, were not present in the actual expedition of Lewis and Clark…or were they?
Prologue
The room was dank, dark, and filled with the cries of the dying. The stench of sweat and blood, mingled with the reek of rotting human flesh hung like fog in the air. Dozens of wooden cots lined the walls, each with their own mangle of steel and stone hanging above them. Candles glowed beside each bed, which provided light to chase away the shadows, but more importantly, a means of inflicting pain upon their victims. There was never a vacancy in this inn of torture, but more often than not, at least one bed could be cleared of its limbs to be made ready for yet another guest.
But to Oymrupa, the sounds of suffering and the smell of death was a sweet perfume. Oymrupa, the evil god of death, delighted in torturing, especially the suffering of those who displeased him. One human being in particular, a man whose name is unimportant, was his favorite experiment.
Oymrupa slunk over to one of the wooden cots, his bulky, twisted, form seeming to float over the cold stone floor, which was slick with blood. He leaned over the victim, his menacing face and red eyes brimming with pleasure at his possession.
“Step aside, Malon. I’ll handle this one,” growled the god.
“Yes sir!” said the guard.
The victim’s face, gray with horror, was now entirely drained of blood, and he looked like a dead man, though he had not yet been killed.
“Now, my friend,” growled Oymrupa, “are you going to tell me what exactly Xnos said to you?”
“It is of no importance to you.” croaked the man.
“Hmm, is it not? Knowing that Xnos was my prodigious rival, and you her most trusted servant, I would think your conversation would have been quite useful to me.”
The man lay speechless. Oymrupa, filled with rage at his failure to get the information he wanted, clawed viciously at the man upon the bed, gouging his right cheek.
“I am the ruler of this pitiful city now, good sir, and everyone must pay ransom to me, or be eliminated in a most unfriendly manner. If you are not willing to accept the fact that you are no longer trusted by me as you were with Xnos, and that you are just a finite human being who can be killed in an instant, you won’t survive the next five minutes.”
“We were only saying goodbye,” said the man softly.
“Of course, you weren’t saying goodbye, you were whispering it, and for a very long time I might add,” retorted Oymrupa.
The man gulped loudly.
“Well then, since you are not going to tell me the subject of your conversation with your now dethroned friend, I’ll have to extract it out of you.”
Oymrupa laughed heartily as he took a candle from the wall and drew it close to the man’s trembling face.
Chapter 1
Clark’s Beginning
“This life is all I’ve ever known. I was born and raised here in the city of Uca, and have never ventured outside its rock walls. I live with my mother in a small brick house that looks like every other home in Uca. Nobody here is rich or has ever been successful in life. They all work like slaves, making just enough to get by, except the beast who rules over us in the land of Oronika, miles away from this city. Rumor has it that he sleeps on, bathes in, and eats pure gold, all of which rightfully belongs to Xnos. But nobody has ever been brave enough to leave the city and find the truth.
My name is Clark, and I’m going to free the people of Uca from their slavery.”
The room erupted with laughter. I sighed, walked off stage and sat down.
“It’s no use,” I thought, “they’ll never believe me.”
My mom reached over and patted my arm. She seemed to say, “It’s OK. Maybe next time you’ll persuade them.” The laughter subsided, and another speaker rose and walked to the front, but I wasn’t listening.
The walk home with my mother was melancholy, just like always. The moon was full that night and it cast a shadow in front of us. That shadow, like the minds of the people of Uca, close to my grasp, but always out of reach.
“You did well tonight,” said my mother.
“Not any better than the first 200 times,” I said.
“You’ll convince them. There has to be more people than just you that are willing to help you.”
“Well, there’s Meriwether,” I retorted.
“Yes, but you need more than your best friend to do what you want to do.”
I sighed. “Maybe my plan is really as foolish as everyone says it is.”
“It’s not foolish, but it will be difficult,” my mother said, “but I believe you can do it.”
She continued now with conviction. “I believe in you Clark. I think there’s more out there than this filthy city. But no one else thinks that. This is the way it has been for generations, and no one believes it can change.”
As we turned the corner, the familiar hut where we spent our long days came into view. It looked like every other home in Uca, red brick walls and a wooden roof. Every house had the same color walls, same yard space, and the same number of rooms. Every street had at least five men patrolling it. Each day, my mother left our home to her job as a seamstress, and I to give my speech about breaking free from the city to anyone who would listen.
I had never known my father. My mother had always told me he had been called away to work for the government and was promised a lot of money for it. We were poor, so my father left, and never returned. Soon after that, she told me, Oymrupa took over the city, and dethroned Xnos. And on that same day, dreadful as it was, I was born. And that is how I came to be here.
The next day started out typically like any other day. I rose, ate breakfast, put on my coat, and met Meriwether outside. I thought about how the two of us had been friends since we were born. He was born in the same year I was, and he always stuck by me with whatever I was doing. Meriwether was tall, lanky, and funny looking, which made us even more alike.
Today we walked the familiar streets as usual, looking for clubs and venues to give my speeches. I knew never to go to the same place twice, so sometimes I had to walk many miles to an area of town where I’d never been before. The people of Uca were a stubborn bunch.
“I heard there is a new tavern in town, want to try there?” asked Meriwether.
“It’s worth a try,” I said.
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We entered the building, and ducked just in time as an empty whiskey bottle went whizzing past my head. I immediately looked around to see who had thrown the bottle. There stood one of the roughest looking men on the block, maybe even on the entire street.
“So, come for a drink, have you?” growled the man.
Everyone in the pub laughed, since Meriwether and I didn’t look like the drinking type, and we weren’t.
“Umm…no sir. I’ve come to give a speech. About becoming a free city….”
The laughter escalated.
“Get out! Before I kill you!” yelled the man.
Meriwether and I were both used to these kinds of threats, so we said goodbye, and proceeded to leave the tavern. I turned the door handle, but it held fast.
“Having some trouble with the door? Here, let me help you,” said the man, and threw another bottle at my head. I ducked, and it went crashing through the window of the door.
The crowd laughed at the pathetic aim of the man. Meriwether, who was more nervous than I, proceeded to jump out of the newly broken glass, and I followed.
“Well, better luck next time,” Meriwether joked, after we had turned the corner.
“No, there isn’t going to be a ‘next time’,” I said. “Ever since I was born, I’ve wanted to do something great with my life. I shudder to think that I should become like them.”
And that was the day it all started, the day when I gave up on the city, its people and its ways. If they wanted to remain under the authority of Oymrupa, they were free to do so, but I wasn’t going to settle for it. I had one good friend that believed in me, and that was enough to carry out my plan: free the people of Uca, find my father, and get back home alive.
Chapter 2
Golden Thoughts of Death
The stars shone bright that night. The light from the city was only a weak glow in the distance. All around our campsite stood tall, green, bushes and trees, which I had never seen before, after living in the city for so many years. I pulled my blanket tighter around me. The vast sky and the dark forest seemed all so mysterious and new, yet peaceful and real.
I smiled as I stared up at the stars, shimmering in their black pool, thinking about the riches we would receive. Of course, we would keep a lookout for my father, but with the gold, shining and sparkling in our pockets, we would never need to work again, and neither would the people of Uca.
“Meriwether,” I whispered, “are you awake?”
“Somewhat,” he replied.
“Do you suppose we’ll find gold tomorrow?”
“Maybe, it depends on how well Oymrupa hid it.”
“He’s not as half as smart as Xnos was.” I retorted.
“Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t.”
I thought about Oymrupa for a long time. How hard would he hide the gold, and would he ever let us take any if we found it? We know it’s somewhere in Oronika, but how big is this place? No human being has ever seen this god, so we have no idea what he looks like. What if he kills us?
I eventually fell asleep, the crackling and warmth of the fire slowly forcing my eyelids shut. But I would have wished to stay asleep forever, instead of facing what was to come. Dark figures emerged from the forest, casting long, twisted shadows over our sleeping bodies, but we remained oblivious. In my half-sleeping state, I could hear a faint whisper throughout the camp. I pulled the blankets up over my ears, not realizing where I was or what was about to happen.
Suddenly, I became aware of the situation and shot up, grabbing my pistol and pointing it towards the whispering. My eyes shot through the camp, searching for any sign of movement. A stick snapped behind me and I spun around. I noticed something dark and tall lumbering toward me in the thick brush. Screaming at the top of my lungs, I took a few steps backward and fired my pistol at the figure. Blood splattered up from the creature and an ear-splitting scream echoed through the night, sending chills up and down my sweating spine.
The forest went ominously still, with only the crackle of the fire piercing through the darkness. I immediately reloaded my pistol and scanned the blackness. Finding nothing more, I returned to the campsite.
But Meriwether was not in our camp.
“Meriwether?” I called even louder, walking around the campsite.
A loud groan rose from the forest behind me, stopping me dead in my tracks. I spun around to find the sound came from the being that I had shot. I should probably finish him off, I thought to myself, but I was not looking forward to laying eyes on the creature that had frightened me before. I pictured a hideous face, covered with blood, eyes blown from its sockets.
I walked in the direction of the groans, gripping my pistol with both hands. I could faintly make out the lump of a body beneath a shrub, and I proceeded towards it. My palms were sweating violently, and I could barely keep a hold on my weapon. Just at that moment, a gnarled hand shot toward my leg, and I jumped back in horror, firing at the hand. The creature howled, pulling its handless arm back.
At this point I began to turn around and race back towards camp, too scared to view the mauled and now raging creature. A sound emerged from the brute, a half groan, half scream. I stopped to listen. There was something strange about the noise, its voice not sounding like that of a beast, but of a man. Shocked, I turned back towards the body, but before I reached him he spoke a single word.
“Clark….”
I rushed to the man and stood over him. At that moment the orb of the night emerged from behind the clouds, and its hideous light shone down upon the figure of my best friend, revealing the results of my stupidity and murderous intent.
Never before had I hated the moon, until that night.
Chapter 3
Ikili: God of Storms
The great god roared with laughter.
“So, Clark killed his best friend on the first day of his pitiful journey?” Ikili chuckled.
“Yes sir, I saw everything. He shot him in the chest and then came back a little later and shot off his hand.”
“And all the while, he was totally oblivious to you, and you were only 20 feet from him the entire time?”
“Indeed, it is my job to remain undetected by whom I spy on.”
Ikili was hysterical. “Very well,” he said between sobs of laughter. “You’re the most loyal scout I’ve got, keep it up.”
The messenger bowed and left the room.
Ikili leaned back in his throne, and looked out the window. Ikili was the god of weather, put in his place by Oymrupa, who ruled over the entire land. Ikili controlled the weather of every inch of the entire world and was not ashamed to continually remind those under his authority of his superiority over them.
“Hmm…what shall the weather be like today?” he mused. “Maybe I should make it nice and sunny so my friend Clark can make good headway towards Oronika? Oh wait, that’s where the gold is, isn’t it? Well, there’s no point in letting them get there quickly,” the beast said with a laugh. And with that, the god held his ugly, scaled hand out the window. The thick, gray clouds opened, rain gushing out of them, and great flashes of light streaked across the sky. Ikili drew his hand back inside and shook it vigorously.
“I forgot how cold my rain was,” Ikili smirked. “Little does Clark know I’m actually doing him a favor by slowing his progress to Oronika. I don’t think he wants to die that quickly. But seeing how quickly people have been dying around him at present, I’m not sure if he can manage to keep himself alive, even without me!”
Ikili let out a monstrous laugh, the rain seeming to fall harder with every roar.
Chapter 4
Rain, Revenge and Rage
As soon as I heard that first clap of thunder, I knew I was in a predicament. I had a half dead man on my back, who happened to be my best friend, I was in a new place, and my mind was still reeling from the experiences of last night. But I remembered my mission, and kept pressing on, wondering how I ever got into this position. It was still dark out, and I couldn’t
make out the details of the surrounding area; the light cast by my lantern was the only place I knew, a small circle of light my entire world. As far as I knew, I was the only person from the city of Uca who had traveled this far outside its walls.
But all of the eagerness in me was continually scrubbed out by the knowledge that I had almost killed my best friend. Meriwether had not spoken since that horrible night, and I was very concerned that he should die at any moment. I could still feel his thumping heart against my back as I stumbled along the road. I needed to find help, and badly, but I had no friends in this place, other than the one on my back.
By this time the thunder crashed overhead and lightning streaked across the sky. The rain fell heavily, filling the roadway with mud, sometimes knee deep. The sky was pitch black, and the moon did not shine. I was now prone to fear the moon, the witness of my horrible mistake the night before.
Too weary to go on, I sat down along the side of the road and propped Meriwether against a tree, took a lantern from my bag, and lit it. I walked out to the middle of the road and held the light out. The road appeared to go for miles in each direction, with no road markers or houses. I could hear the rushing of a river nearby, and turned my lantern in that direction. I remembered seeing the same river at the beginning of the road, but it was almost three times as wide now. I was concerned that the river would cover the road, making it impassable. I walked down to the river’s edge. Large sticks and even huge trees were rising and falling with the swells, carried by the will of the water. I could see the moon peeking out from behind the dark rain clouds, its illumination falling upon the tree where Meriwether sat. I walked over to where I last saw him, lantern held high, but the body I expected to see there was missing. Suddenly, a loud splash sounded behind me. I felt everything go numb inside my body, but with my heart pumping furiously. I sprinted down to the river, frantically looking about the rushing water.
“Meriwether!” I yelled.
Then I saw him; a dark figure clutching onto a floating branch, struggling to keep his head above water. I wasn’t about to lose my best friend for good, so I plunged in after him. The cold water seemed to eat me alive, and I almost passed out with the shock. Kicking with all my might, I swam over to the branch that held my companion. The river floated us both downstream at the same speed, but with my kicking and paddling I managed to catch up to him. I held onto one end of the branch and yelled over to Meriwether.