Bright Eyes

Chapter 7

The screaming started almost instantly. There were only handfuls of people left to defend the village. Soup knew the village wouldn't burn well at least as their housing was all built from bones and hide.

The harsh man started getting restless, clearly deciding whether or not to leave soup and join the battle. Soup saw his chance. He stuck his hand through the bars of the cage, stretching until his hand landed on the rump of the buffalo. They bonded instantly and soup willed the buffalo to run wild. The cart took off towards the village, the man yelped and held on tight to the beast. Soup grabbed the wooden door and willed his hands to let him burn his way out. It worked. He knocked out the latch and jumped free of the bucking wagon, the man too busy holding on to notice.

Without Caffer, soup knew he was no use in a fight. Especially against The Ignis, with their light steel armour with red trim and thick steel vambraces covering their forearms to block weapons yet leave their hands free for heated combat . He had heard tales of this fighting style coming from the people who visited the Arena in the Capital.

Soup ran straight into the bush. Tears streaming at being too weak to help defend his home. He was only 10 he had to remind himself and no use against grown warriors.

He ran and ran, he hadn't eaten in a long time and he tripped and tripped but willed himself to keep getting back up. He ran all night until the sun started to come up and he could finally see, and kept running. He realised how stupidly dangerous it was to run through the forest and bush at night. He could have made a torch like the reds do by holding and burning a branch to keep the beasts away and allow him to see. Then he realised how foolish that would be, the red man would have found him too easily.

He slowed to a walk, figuring he was far enough away to take a break now, he found a large bushy tree and crawled under it, falling instantly asleep.

He woke around midday, he could tell by where the sun was in the sky. His stomach rumbled away - he was starving and dehydrated. He decided to keep heading this way and hope he bumped into one of the other Brown villages, hopefully one of the warrior ones.

He walked slowly now, too tired for much else until he came to a river that seemed to be several hundred meters across. On the other side of the wide river he could see jungle trees that seemed to reach hundreds of feet tall. He jumped down the bank and leaned down, putting his head under the water, desperate for a drink and took in a huge mouth full of water to drink. Soup immediately made himself spit it out. He knew that drinking random river water could give him parasites and make him sick, and his body was in no state to handle that. He hatched and idea, and cupped his hands, and he boiled the water right in his hands, blew on it and sipped it slowly. He laughed at his own genius, the sound of his voice scaring him. He must still be in shock he realised.

His Grandmother had taught him that a flower called Rockrose in the region was a good cure for people in shock, so he searched his nearby area around the stream bed and luckily found a few flowers he recognised. He hatched another brilliant idea, grabbing a few flowers and leaves then used a nearby rock to grind the plant material together. He took the paste back down to the stream in his cupped hands, scooped in some more river water, and boiled it in his hands. He drank the tea slowly and felt his body relax and hydrate.

After a few more mouthfuls he continued on his way, deciding to follow the stream as he didn't really know where he was. It was easy enough for him to pick and eat plants he recognised as he travelled so with some food and water he felt a bit less hopeless. As dusk came he was exhausted once more, deciding to sleep just out of sight of the stream since it would bring in nearby thirsty beasts.

He woke and travelled again still following the stream, two more nights passed as he wandered aimlessly along it. It was far too late for him to get help for his people now, he knew In his heart that no-one in the Buffalo village would have survived. He sent thanks in his thoughts to his Grandmother wherever she was now, for all she had taught him and all she had done for him. He would probably be dead now if it wasn't for her knowledge of the land.

He had broken open a few dying logs on his way and found some large grubs that he kept a pocket full of, taking them out and roasting them in his hand before popping them in his mouth as he walked. He could have sworn he was waking in circles if it wasn't for the stream. He would have almost arrived at the capital by now if it wasn't for the raiders. Knowing he had walked too far to find any other Brown villages. It was possible he was heading to The Rim or towards one of the other Bright Eye villages near the Capital. The thought sent shivers down his spine.