2016
Short Story
I might try rewriting this one day?
Our story does not describe the beginning of the Earth, but merely a part of it. A story during the time of nomadic tribes and the migration to another land of tomorrow. Back then, the Earth had never seen the dead of winter.
Lush forests and flowers of incomparable beauty could be seen blooming from the East to even far in the West. Animals of all sizes, shapes and colors could be seen wandering these lands grazing on it's never-ending supply of grass. And following these herds of many animals were tribes of all different types.
One of these many tribes was a small collection of hunters and gathers under the leadership of a frailing chieftain. This small tribe had begun to run out of resources needed to be able keep up their journey far into the horizon and had set up a temporary village to be able to collect medicinal herbs, edible plants, and hunt for buffalo. But there was a small problem with their plan. There had been another tribe wandering close, waiting for the right moment to strike.
A tribe of warriors had finally come out of the shadows that had loomed over the hunters and gatherers. They rode up upon unfamiliar beasts and demanded to see the chieftain. Unable to fight back, the members of the tribe begrudgingly led them to the dwelling of the chieftain.
Sitting upon thick animal furs was the chieftain, with a look that said he knew this day was coming. What looked like the leader of the warriors, dismounted and walked up to the chieftain so he was eye to eye with him.
The warriors wanted the land that the hunter and gathers were residing on due to the surplus of plants and animals in the surrounding area. They threatened to wipe everything living around them bit by bit if the hunters and gatherers refused to leave within seven days. And on the the seventh day, the warriors promised to wipe out their entire tribe and spill as much blood as the Great Spirit would make possible. Yet, even under this threat, the chieftain still did not flinch, but merely told them to be on their way and prayed they had a safe journey.
But, little did they know a child had been watching these events unfold. This child didn't want to see this beautiful Earth be damaged for such a human emotion like greed or pride. He wanted to stop the warriors, to be able to protect his tribe and his family.
However, he was only a child and could do nothing but wait and watch to see if the warriors would keep their promise or back out and leave their tribe alone. Unable to sleep, he gazed out upon the night sky filled with stars and wished to the Great Spirit that he could protect them somehow.
The first day had come and the chieftain still refused to leave. The warriors were both angry and overjoyed with his response and they immediately set out to burn down trees and chase away the animals from their lands.
And still; the child, the tribe, and the chieftain sat by and watched this take place. No one from their tribe lifted a finger to stop them and no one lifted a finger to help them, either. The next five days were just repeats of the first; burn and chase, burn and chase, and no one doing anything about it.
It was the seventh day and the child couldn't bear to watch the Earth be harmed any longer. He worked up the courage to ask his chieftain if there was anything they could do to stop them, anything at all. His chieftain looked down at him and cracked a small smile while patting the child on the head. He told the child that it was not him that he needed to ask, but the Great Spirit himself.
Looking hopeful once again, the child thanked him as he ran to find a location where he could talk with the Great Spirit undisturbed. There remained few trees from all the burnings and the ones that did remain were small and scrawny.
All but one old, giant oak. So, the boy sat under this tree and began talking to the sky. He told the sky everything about what was going on Earth and asked for help. But, all remained silent. Not the boy nor the Great Spirit he thought he was talking to spoke. And then he heard it, a faint whisper in the wind.
The voice carried in the wind introduced itself as the Great Spirit and wanted to help the boy, his family, his tribe, and the plants and animals around them. The Great Spirit had a plan, but it could only work if the child helped him. The child needed to get the plants and animals to hide so that he could cover the land in a blanket, as to hide them from the warrior tribe.
With new determination, the child sought out to convince every plant and every animal to take cover. He started with the beavers and fish by the river, then to the birds and fungi in the forest trees, all the way to the bears and bugs that hid in caves and logs, and he continued convincing animals and plants to hide until there was only one single flower that lay nearby.
It was snow white flower, untouched by even nature itself. The kid walked up, excited that he had nearly completed a task that deemed impossible to anyone else. But try and try as he might, the flower refused to hide it's beauty because of a couple brutes. He tried to bribe it, manipulate, even haggle, but it still refused to hide.
The child was about to try yet another way to convince the flower when disaster struck. A spear could be seen going completely through the child's small body and the flower was now splattered with crimson. It was none other than the warriors who had taken the child's life, because it was in fact the seventh day. A day promised to the hunters and gatherers that would end them.
But the child had not failed. As his eyes closed, he could see the first fall of snow and a smile fell upon his face in his last moments and the tribe's last moments. For this child had been the last one of his tribe to be killed. Because of the sacrifice the child and his tribe had made to save the plants and animals of the Earth, they are mourned every year.
The plants and animals will all hide, once again, and the Great Spirit will make it snow upon the Earth. But even still, The Amaryllis flower, now died crimson, still refused to hide during the winter.
YOU ARE READING
Writing for the Sake of Writing
RandomSometimes I get bored and decide to just write, ya know? Be it things like character descriptions, plot ideas, random dialogue between no one in particular, or just random thoughts. Honestly, kinda endless, but it makes for good practice I guess? I...