Crossing for Crystals...pt I
**using original characters, inspired by Dungeons and Dragons. My friend wants to start a party, and while creating a centaur character I was hit with the mood to write. The first time in a LONG time. The locations are also original, as well as the “muliln” species mentioned - I developed them a few years ago, but never got around to actually using them realistically. So here’s using them for fun! Emphasis on FUN...this is by no means serious stuff.**
The land was dry, the air felt cracked with unshed lightening. The sky a dark gray, shading a pale tan landscape. The trees, long and thin, protruded from rocky ground. Shrubbery was sparse, and Nefshka felt horribly exposed and obvious, every step sending pebbles scattering sharply downwards. His black form stark against his surroundings.
Small deer and goats were silent as he passed. Watching warily. Blending easily. Most of the time he didn’t even see them until they moved. Once already he had very nearly walked straight into one. He’d had to pause and catch his breath afterwards.
A chill breeze cut into his skin, sending down a shiver that rippled his midnight fur. Dust dislodged itself in a fine puff, and he squinted his eyes as the air sent it into his face. In the distance thunder warned of the impending storm.
Finally, just as the wind began to pick up and a mist of rain began to bead on his fur, Nefshka reached the bottom of the cliff. The grass was soft and green and quiet, although a lack of trees allowed the wind to knead him harder. He readjusted the pack slung over his arm, then continued across the grassy clearing. Away from the danger of trees and toward the start of a new, rockier slope.
The mountains on either side of the canyon were the last leg of his journey, once over the other side, he would be where he needed to. The light pink crystals clinking quietly in his pack delivered in good time. So long as the centauri didn’t find him first.
Trees had protected him on the way down, but on the way up again he’d be even more exposed. And despite the rough terrain, the mountain clan were agile and quick. Getting him in range of bow or spear would be no difficult feat at all.
Nefshka swallowed dryly, ears pinned flat, tails swishing violently. His eyes were wide as he scanned his surroundings. Searching for breathing gray, tawny or brown. The centauri were not small, but just like the deer, they blended well with their surroundings. As far as he knew they had been watching him the whole time.
“You’re a long way from your Queensland, muliln,” a voice cut into the breezy quiet, and Nefshka leaped. A spring that put him on top of a precarious boulder, where he crouched. A long knife in one hand, and claws displayed in the other.
The centaur that looked at him from the grass he had only just left flicked his long tail. A forehoof stamped, black-socked leg chewing at the earth. The red-dun’s black hands were hooked loosely around a bow and arrow. Prepared to raise and shoot.
“I’m merely passing by,” Nefshka said, feet poised against the back of the boulder. Should the centaur even attempt to raise his bow, all he would have to do is lose his balance and he would drop behind the rock.
“Delivering Saggitarius crystals to an Anacerean village,” the centaur finished.
The pack felt suddenly heavy across Nefshka’s shoulder.
“It is unwise to steal from a tomb,” the centaur said, “But the curse is yours to bear. Unless profit from the crystals is not what you seek.”
“A curse is dropped if the intentions are pure,” Nefshka said.
The centaur nodded, “There is a reason our clans send scouts ahead of a hunt. Yours is not an uncommon occurrence to see. Be aware that had the party come across you first, you would be dead. Why did you take the crystals?”
“My son is sick,” Nefshka said carefully.
“You have no son, Nefshka the Black,” the centaur sidestepped as Nefshka’s fur raised fully along the backs of his shoulders, “the human child you travel with is most definitely not of your own blood.”
“You know my name...and more,” though his voice trembled, Nefshka remained in place.
“I am Ashim, and you have people looking for you,” Ashim glanced about the rocks before returning to Nefshka. “It’s not common for your kind to come this far south. Our land is far too changeable. Hot to cold, cold to wet, wet to dry, and not much time for you to adjust. To have seven muliln in a manner of days...you could not have passed under our notice if you had tried. Are you avoiding your family because of the human you allow to accompany you?”
“They are not my family.” Nefshka’s ears twitched, looking for familiar sound, anything to alert him of their approach.
“Good thing, otherwise I might have given you up. Family matters should remain within the family.”
“Are they still here?” Nefshka strained.
“If they were they would already have you, I’m sure.”
“Do you know where they are?”
Ashim clicked his tongue, “They left a few days ago. If they are still here they have hidden themselves very well.”
“Then why stop me? If you are not going to take the crystals and my...kind...are no longer here, why call attention to yourself?”
“Consider it a warning. You did not know I was here otherwise. Your kind may be quick and quiet, but you are not from here. I also know about you - knew before your kin came through, and after they had made it known you were here I have kept an eye out,” Ashim took a few steps forward, long tail swaying in the wind. “I have a favor to ask.”
Nefshka adjusted his grip on his knife, “What kind of favor?”
“I have heard you look for things, and find them even when you aren’t looking. My son, Denriil, has been gone several months, in the service of a Saggitarius. He would not tell us his duty, but as he is not allowed back by the spirit until his task is complete I can assume its seriousness. He is a dun centaur, young and calm. Will you also keep an eye out?”
“It is not often one of yours leaves the mountains,” Nefshka said carefully, “A dun centaur? A scar on his left shoulder?”
Ashim’s ears flicked, “You have already seen him?”
“I have, and he does have quite a task ahead of him.”
The centaur bowed his head gratefully, “That he is still alive is good news enough.”
“If that is all...?” Nefshka slipped his knife back in place and hefted the bag on his shoulder.
“It is...though might I ask...how is it you speak my language? I have been since I first called to you, and you hardly noticed.”
The fur on Nefshka’s arms lifted ever so slightly, “Call it magic.”
“Your kind cannot do magic. And even so, we have little left. It may as well not exist here. We have no ocean nearby for salt...and our land is dying. We long gave up the practice, there isn’t enough life left here to sustain it. There are very few Saggitarius left alive now themselves as a result...if any.”
“I cannot otherwise explain it,” Nefshka shrugged. “If you will not believe magic...call it a gift.”
“An unusual and helpful gift. I will not keep you any longer. Travel strongly, Nefshka the Black.”
“And you, Ashim.” Nefshka watched the centaur leave before turning and continuing up the mountain. A dark voice chuckling deep within his mind.
