The Clan of Ichor
We close our eyes to morning's light.
Safe, secure inside the Caves of Rotou.
*****
Perdix was awakened by a knock on his door. He was stiff and sore, having fallen asleep on his workbench with his head cradled in his arms on the table.
"Xhahari," Perdix said, glancing out the small window in the castle wall. "What are you doing here? The sun is not even awake."
"Master," said the young man. "You must do something. The people perish. Babies are being snatched from their mother's breast. The Evil Ones seem to have a blood thirst that is unquenchable."
Perdix dropped his head on his breast.
"What is it, Master? Does your heart grow weak?"
"My heart," said Perdix, "is full of guilt. The pain of sadness threatens to stop its beating. What have I done?"
"What are you talking about?"
"It is all my fault. All my fault. Believe me, Xhahari. I only meant to help, but for the blindness of my love, I am afraid I have unleashed a horrible thing."
"What will you do?"
"Leave me."
"No, Master. I will not. Kill me now, for I know you have the power. I will not abandon you."
"Come then," said Perdix. "We have much work to do. The gods bless you."
The bent finger, black with grime, reached to touch the youth's forehead.
Xhahari saw the white bolt of lightning cross between the old man's fingers and his forehead. His young body shuddered, but he did not loose consciousness.
"Andolin," the youth whispered.
"Yes," said Perdix. "Now, you know my darkest secrets."
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