Fate of Aorullu, A Warhammer 40K Fan Fiction

Post 21 - A village on the move

After cutting her communication, the Elder Mentor rose slowly and left the inner sanctum of her house.  She told herself this was not fear what she was feeling. She could almost say that she actually felt a relief, after a century finally one of the possible futures that her mentor had picked up from the eddies of the Sea of Souls was beginning to show its first evidences that it would come to pass. They had gone great lengths to veil her presence in this primitive planet, she had to even live in this alien structure which did nothing to help her homesickness. Away from her people, in solitude, she had toiled over two centuries to take care of this planet, and the people in it. She had managed to keep them fixed at the earliest stages of civilization, in the shadow of ignorance so that they could be herded and made to do the required tasks.

How that Ork horde found its way to this planet was still an unknown but she would assume the worst and put the pieces into play. She glided through the doorways in her house, picking up a couple of artifacts and her staff. Then, feeling a curious mix of apprehension and relief, at the fact that finally one of the futures had manifested itself by showing the first predicted signs, she abandoned the alien structure she had made her home for the past two centuries. The ziggurat awaited her.

* * * *

Whipped by Keira’s dire instructions now and then, the villagers trod through the forest as fast as they could. It was not fast, though. Could not be, with all the children and the elderly. The forest was dense, trees were closely packed and the bushes often as tall as the people. The season did not help, either; the melting icecaps from the mountains caused streams of various sizes flowing through the forest, making the passing more treacherous. The trackers ahead were opening the forest for the group, cutting dense undergrowth here, felling a tree there, making fords across the larger streams. The villagers moved like a scar moving across the face of the earth, trailing a swath of destruction in their wake. The move had started in the general direction of ground-wards towards the Elder Mentor’s hut but then swung further night-wards. The trackers still knew their whereabouts, these grounds were still within their hunting lands but for most of the villagers who’d never been too far out of their village in their lives, this was new. This was unknown and the fear of the unknown had sent its smoky tendrils over their hearts, making them more nervous, more apprehensive of their surroundings.

What was not a really cheerful trip to start with, had in time turned into a silent procession, laced with the creak of their carts and occasional cries of their babies. Keira’s heart went out to her people. Seeing them in this discomfort did not sit well with her, especially when they were doing this trip only because she had told them so. Now and then her resolve would waver; she would start thinking if she had indeed got the message right from the Mentor. But as if monitoring her thoughts from afar, the Mentor would talk to her mind at those times, urging her to stick to their goal. 

As the sun lost its rule, the day turned to dusk and the long trail of villagers started stepping into a relief in the forest. This was an open area, clear of trees, next to a huge rocky hill. The trackers, taking notice of the setting sun, had cleared the area, trying to set up borders and readying it to set up camp to spend the night.