If Our Thoughts Mattered

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

No one knows how the titans came about, or who will end up becoming them, but the alleged ministers of The Polished.

“When shall it go away?”
Jiop asked softly, to not be heard by the beast.

The Polished are a cult of people believing that if you put your faith into ‘The Hope’, you will become saved. Oh, and not just from the titans but from death also. In the beginning, people had a hard time believing until the group gave them adequate information to avoid being torn apart slowly by the giant cannibals.

“Jiop, I said be silent”
Soli said sternly and quietly.

The rules were simple. Be silent, be still, and wield fire.

“I dost not want to die”
Furtu whined.

The last part is difficult since one cannot obtain fire without being silent and still.

“Ābūh éow héafdu”
Kuji whispered in Anglo-Saxon.

“Turn your heads”
She repeated. She slowly raised her arm and pointed. Her arm is straight and firm.

She saw a figure in the shadow. Jumping excitedly around, pointing and yelling. Here, here! Hie, hie!. She heard it.

“BÆLe”
Kuji whispered.

The figure was jumping around a dying flame.

All 18 had turned their heads towards the small orange light, conveniently placed a far way before them.

The titan was frozen with them. Staring at Tyur intensely, just like the lonesome eye.

“RUN!”

They were all running, all except Tyur. So the titan continued to glare at Tyur for a few moments.

“I reached it! I– ”

Squash.

And like that the anonymous man of the town was now dead. Squished to the ground, like a bug.

Tyur didn’t move a muscle. Frightened that if he did, he would die faster than that man.

“Nobody must die. Not again”
Great uncle moved his head slowly to where the man was squished by the fire.

The quickness of the titans hand that killed the man did not blow out the fire. The fire persisted, and stayed active on the little patch of wood and metal. The other fires that surrounded the area were too small, and would be extinguished too easily. But, now the ugly claw of the titan was near it.

“What shall we dost?”
Miqa finally spoke. In her normal tone, but slowly. Very slowly.

And in the silence, she was loud.
   
Great uncle ignored her, and looked further onto the crowds of the Kosti. Who were shuffling embarrassingly towards the fire. To remain as quiet as possible.

A Kostian woman had reached the fire next, with her two children behind her. She had brought nothing to catch the fire with. Thankful that the titan had its eyes locked on Tyur, the woman bent down slowly. Her children freaked out at every loud step taken when she lost her balance.

The woman held her tears as her children stepped away from her.

“The titan– it-”

Without even finishing their sentence their mother knew, all of them knew. Every eye was on her.

While her fingers failed to grip the edge of her skirt, the titan’s face grew closer to her.

At this point her fingers were too sweaty to grab the edge of the skirt, and her tears were beginning to drown the fire. The eye of the titan was only a few feet away from her, yet she only shook from her fear and not poor balance. She stood her ground. She silently and steadily outstretched her hand and felt the soft skin on the titans nose. Even while doing this the titan grew closer. The approaching closeness of the large, wide eyes piercing through her.

So the woman stepped into the fire. To become the conductor and set the titan alight.

Great uncle gave the orphaned children to a woman who could not bear children. And he made her promise to care for them as thought they were her own.

The Polished woman burst out into tears and ran to the ashes of the woman that was and held it in her hands. She rubbed the ashes onto her face and began chanting something inaudible. She then ran to Great uncle and told him that since they have been persistent in keeping their faith with The Hope, that they could have her, a Polished woman, to stay in their company to lift their spirits.

“I would want none of the likes of thee, For thou only wishes to bray out in our company for thy own greed. Aroint from us, asquint woman”
Great uncle spat at her.

“I wished to be granted peace by The Hope, with your corpses on my doorstep”
The Polished woman curtsied and departed from them.

Then the old Great uncle gathered the 15 remaining Kostian people, whom the majority were children and spoke to them.

“We are no longer settled men, yet nomads. And for our own survival, controllers of the wieldable flames”
He continues.

“We, the Kostian’s residents of the Kostienki anters, will no longer be prey for the asquint beast. Notwithstanding, we are nomads. Survivors. ”

Great uncle looked upon the group dressed in long coats of mountain goat skin, decorated with the goat’s fur patterns. Hoods covering their rather frightened faces and heavy curled hair. The cold climates frosted their brown eyelashes white and the edge of their hoods. Their feet would have been jagged and bloodied by the rocks on their home mountains, but for now they are covered until the neverending winter season moves on.

He equipped them with their skills of knapping and hunting and gathering. He gave them herbs and berries in stone boxes of ice. He lended them knowledge of whistles for long distance communication. He taught them how to speak to mammoths.

He taught them how to follow him.

FOOTNOTES
hie - to hurry
bray out - to celebrate
asquint - vile; evil
knapping - the action of hitting one rock (or other object) against the same to shape it into a tool
notwithstanding - however
nomads - people who do not reside in one area; to wander from place to place