The Ancients A Tale of Survival

Eyes Are Opened

Âkįŀ was feeling like a fish out of water. He wasn't used to being away from Äçåçiå for an extended period of time. It was a little easier since he had Dárkmëre with him, but it wasn't the same. Âkįŀ still felt his connection with Äçåçiå and he could tell that she was alright. Her emotions clued him in to the fact that she was having romantic feelings for that one native who went with her.

A sigh escaped Âkįŀ as he turned his gaze upon the natives before him. He and Dárkmëre were at a small encampment of those natives who trusted them. One of the natives caught his eyes. Ùną was beautiful, but Âkįŀ knew that she had eyes for his Uncle which was fine with Âkįŀ. Şenġa was the one whom Âkįŀ liked. He was taken with Şenġa's slender frame, rich brown hair that reminded him of the forest floor, and her slight gap toothed smile which gave her an endearing appeal.

Şenġa must have sensed his gaze because she turned. Her cheeks reddened as she saw him watching her. Her gaze lowered shyly before she raised them and looked at him boldly. Âkįŀ gave her a slight nod before he turned to search out Dárkmëre. As Âkįŀ moved through camp he knew that he'd find Dárkmëre sulking near the warriors. Dárkmëre looked at Âkįŀ as he stepped up next to his brother. All Dárkmëre did was grunt at him softly. Âkįŀ studied the warriors in front of him before he sighed.

"They are not ready."

Dárkmëre hummed in agreement. "They are skilled warriors, but they are powerless against those we will fight. They have no defenses against magic."

Âkįŀ looked up at his older brother. "What if we teach them how?"

Dárkmëre glanced down before he nodded. "It's worth a shot. They need to get used to how those who wield magic fight. We can teach them how to fight us."

Movement made Âkįŀ turn. Şenġa was standing there with several of the other women from camp. Several of them were giggling and staring at Dárkmëre. A soft grunt made Ail turn and grin wickedly at his brother. Dárkmëre punched Âkįŀ on the arm which caused Âkįŀ to punch him back. They got into a scuffle which ended up with Âkįŀ in a headlock.

Laughter flowed from the brothers as they wrestled with each other. Âkįŀ got the upper hand when he knocked Dárkmëre on his ass with a burst of magic. Gasps echoed around them as Dárkmëre went flying. Dárkmëre landed on his back and rolled to his feet. As soon as he gained his feet he threw a ball of magic back at Âkįŀ. Âkįŀ caught the ball and threw it back at his brother.

A brotherly completion was started as they worked on outdoing each other. They used the entire clearing where the warriors were training as their battle ground. Magic flared between the two and bathed the entire area in its magnificence. The brother's battled till they reached a draw. Both were dripping with sweat and breathing hard. Dárkmëre draped an arm around Âkįŀ's shoulder and slapped his brother on the chest.

"You did good little brother."

Âkįŀ laughed as he wrapped his arm around Dárkmëre's shoulder. "I'm not so little anymore."

Dárkmëre chuckled as he shook his head. "No, but you will always be my little brother."

The two brothers moved past the natives as they headed towards the river to bathe. The natives stared after them in shock and amazement. Realization was beginning to dawn on the natives that they were dealing with people who were like none they'd never experienced before. Hard on the heels of that thought came the realization that they were drastically out numbered. Something needed to be done.