The Darkness Steals The Light - The Elim Chronicles

Prologue: Land of The Dragon

The Great Moon dominates the twilight sky, overseeing a vast expanse of jungle and snow capped peaks. Mount Gorochen pierces the gloomy darkness, and from its dorsal summit, the icy range of Nyegyo coils down to a tropical paradise, lost to antiquity.

The First Age. Cycle 297.

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Morana peers through the dense undergrowth as relentless rain thrums on the jungle's expansive, umbrella-shaped canopy. Serpentine branches, interwoven and creaking under the weight of the rain, release heavy raindrops that cascade from bowing leaves, pattering onto the sodden jungle floor. The humidity suffocates, thick with the stench of decaying leaves and pungent flowers. Beads of sweat flood down Morana's brow, merging with the rain, which clings to her skin and saturates her deer hide clothes. In the background, the raging river Gongal roars, muffling the incessant chirping of insects. The frenetic chorus of agitated primates comes to an abrupt and eerie silence. Leaves rustle as an elusive white mountain goat, a gorol, takes cautious steps forward through the dense foliage and into Morana's view. She steadies her breathing, her keen eyes focusing on the gorol as it feeds. Vibrant feathers peek from the tube walls of a bamboo blowpipe as it comes to rest on Morana's fluted lips.

"Steady your aim," Morana's father's whisper falls as soft as a leaf, his hand settling on her shoulder. He gives her a trusting nod.

The poisoned dart flies with a sharp hiss, parting the air as it leaves Morana's lungs and finding its mark in the gorol's neck with the gentlest of thuds. The white gorol bleats, panics, and bolts into a stuttering sprint. The jungle canopy reignites in frenzied howls and shrill shrieks.

Morana sprints in boundless pursuit of the gorol, crashing through the undergrowth, her swift footsteps splattering through the squishing mud, until the gorol collapses with a juddering thump into a moonlit clearing.

Her father dashes to Morana's side, brushing a stand of rain-soaked hair from her face with a proud smile. "You've done well, my child." He places a soft kiss on her forehead, then reaches inside his buckskin bag and tosses her a ball of braided twine. "Bind it."

Moonlight weaves through the rainforest canopy, casting ghostly silver patterns that dance upon Morana's tanned skin as she kneels, placing her knee firmly on the gorol's neck. Her father joins her, and together they weave a long, hollow culm of bamboo between the gorol's bound legs. Reciting a mantra, they chant in unison, their synchronized fingers trussing paralyzed limbs with practiced precision.

"Come, we must be swift." Her father nods with approval. "Night falls, and the world awakens."

They lift the gorol and scramble up a winding ravine until the jungle is far below, with the thundering river Gongal murmuring in the distance. They find purchase on the treacherous ascent, their feet crunching gravel underfoot as they then reach the plateau summit above the cloud forest with panting breaths.

"Take a breath, Morana." Her father slumps onto his rear and looks up at the stellar night sky. "Ana favors you, my sacred one. Our ancestors watched from their star thrones. A white gorol is an offering they have never seen." He wipes a tide of sweat from his weathered brow.

"What if I'm unworthy?" Morana's voice quivers with uncertainty and doubt.

"There are none worthy." The Shaman smiles and gazes into her eyes with a father's pride. "It is Ana who deems you worthy. It is not for you or I to decide."

"Ana has deemed none to be worthy." Morana says, glancing over her shoulder at the towering, snowcapped peaks behind her, which resemble the shape of a dragon set in stone. Her doubting gaze comes to rest on her father.