Catharsis II: An Army of Words (AUDITIONS)

Applicant #42: Of Tribes Past and Present

As Elder Sohra prepared for death, her tribe was preparing for glory.

In front of the stone fortress of Cotalma, amidst a sea of torches, a formation of tribals bore witness to their war chieftain.

"Come dawn, we shall ravage Laran, repaying the slaughter upon our tribesmen," roared Yoshu. He had longed for this moment: an anomalous man of war in a tribe of traditional gatherers.

"They bear fire and thunder," he said. "But so do we. We will cut down their braves, as we have trained. We will avenge our dead, as we have promised."

Yoshu pointed at the crowd of tribals. "Laran will know fear. And they will realize this monster was of their own making. They will know fear! Its name is Cotalma!"

The Cotalmans howled, raising their weapons in praise. Yoshu waved them on...but from her bedroll, damp from fatal illness, Sohra knew it was ill-deserved.

It was the kingdom of Mah-Wa that wanted this war: the seaside dynasty who sought to break its stalemate of power with Laran.

It was Mah-Wa who - with Yoshu's help - secretly sparked the massacre of Essinar, the barter city. Populated by Cotalmans, Larans and Mahwanis, Essinar was a market for trade, a shared community...and most importantly, a chance for peace.

Instead, its butchery was blamed on Laran...giving Mah-Wa cause to attack; Laran, cause to retaliate; and Cotalma, reason to abandon the peace it had long been revered for.

The Cotalmans began their march. The ancient M16 rifles slung over their shoulders were battered but functioning, ammunition belts twinkling in the moonlight.

Elder Sohra wondered if this was how it was during the Great Before.

Before, when Mah-Wa was still the Mall of Asia. When the dilapidated sign bearing Cotalma's name - the sign that became their namesake - still read COASTAL MALL.

When Laran was not a fortress of warriors, but a house of the holy. A church, where devotees, not destroyers, flocked during the third day of the week.

Of these, Sohra could only wonder. But it mattered not.

No one was left to teach the lessons of 2015, when shooting stars covered the earth...but of course they were not shooting stars but missiles, signaling the end of one world's history and the beginning of another's.

Now, it was 2350. The only teacher was war; its only lesson, its own immortality.

Elder Sohra took one last breath, knowing the rest of her beloved tribe would soon do the same - whether by annihilation by the Larans, corruption by Mah-Wa, or Cotalma's starvation, its harvest abandoned when her farmers became warriors.

But as she closed her eyes, Elder Sohra's final act on earth was not borne of despair or fear...but of hope.

Hope for her people. Hope for Laran. Hope even for Yoshu and Mah-Wa.

For all of them, she hoped for a better world after this one: where war was obsolete; where peace was absolute; and where all would, at long last, be of one tribe.