Excursion

Chapter One - What the Chief Told Us

  There would be days when I dreamed that the sky would fall upon my unfortunate head, and days when I prayed that it wouldn't. This morning was one of the latter, as the entire tribe had been shadowed by dark clouds when the sun should have been at its highest point, only to pour out a flood.

  "Nomen! Nomen!" a voice shouted some distance behind me, just as I began catching raindrops upon my tongue.

  "Salandil!" I didn't open my eyes.

  Considering that he and I had been friends almost since the day we were born, it was impossible not to recognize his voice, even if he was shouting from over the heavy drumming of the rain.

  "Nomen, you won't believe what I just saw," Salandil began in a wavering tone. "I was on the lesser hill, when I saw a great light flash up from the ground, just a few miles away."

  I snapped my mouth shut and turned to look at him. "A great light? Are you sure it wasn't lightning?"

  "Positive," my friend responded, dark brown eyes wide with awe. "It was bright blue in color and seemed to come straight from the ground."

  "Was it accompanied by a sound?"

  "Yes, I heard a whisper."

  "Have you told the chief?"

  "No; I was just going to ask if you wanted to come with me."

  He should have known that he didn't have to ask. "Absolutely," I breathed, squeezing some water out of my now-soaked shirt and following him across the sand.

  A great blue light rising from the ground, followed by a whisper. It sounded eerily similar to the great stories from the elders. It was said that a long time ago, when the tribe was new, a woman came from the sky, followed by a flash of light and the sound of a tranquil wind. She ended up being one of the enigmatic Empikah people who live in the clouds and come down every thousand years to bless the tribes and desert below. Little by little, she brought a small contingent of her people with her. They proceeded to teach the Vannakai their ways of survival, learning, and peace. Many of the songs and dances that our tribe practices today are due to the arrival of that woman. Therefore, you can imagine the heartbreak of the early Vannakai when they heard that the Empikah had to return to the clouds and teach their ways to another tribe. But they promised that they would be back.

  We have been waiting for them ever since; not because we rely on their company, but because we have heard that peace and prosperity were abundant when they were here. We long to hear their wisdom and sing songs in accompaniment with their voices. And what better time for them to come than now? So when Salandil informed Chief Rincott of this news, our beloved leader expressed a deep desire to follow that light and discover its source. In the next hour he called a meeting with all the citizens of the tribe – a little over a thousand in all – inside the massive leather tent in the very center of camp. We barely fit, even with the children sitting atop their mothers' laps and the elders people close to the fire at the center. Outside, the rain continued to pour, splashing down the tent's sides. Some of the water didn't make it all the way to the bottom, and instead continued to drip through tiny holes in the fabric and down on some of the citizens' heads. I was one of the unlucky ones.

  "To the Vannakai!" Chief Rincott exclaimed, arms thrown out wide. "Thanks to our dear boy, Salandil of Tressiae, we have been alerted of a great blue light flashing from the depths of the land, followed by what he described as a 'whisper'."

  Many of the citizens began murmuring to one another in excitement.

  "We have been told over many years past that the first citizen of the Empikah tribe arrived during such a phenomenon, and we dare to hope that this will be the beginning of the same chain of events."

  Chief Rincott didn't need to state any facts of what would happen if the Empikah did indeed return. Everyone in the tent had been told the stories of the cloud people day and night, backwards and forwards, for as long as they could remember. The Empikah were even mentioned in the songs sung to the babies.

  "I suggest that some members of our tribe go out to the place where the light was seen, and see if there is indeed someone present."

  All of a sudden, the tent erupted into a tangle of raised hands, accompanied by shouting voices. Salandil and I covered our ears.

  "Quiet!" the chief bellowed.

  The shouts ceased. For such a small man, he had a very large voice.

  "Since you all appear so eager to go, and I don't want to be unfair, I will send the two young men who initially told me about the light. Perhaps it's better to send a very small contingent. However, the rest of us will send you on with strength through song."

  Salandil and I made eye contact before standing up so the chief could see our faces over the rest of the crowd.

  "Nomen? Salandil? Are you both willing and able to take on this mission?"

  "Yes," we responded, heads bowed.

  "Then go. And I wish you both godspeed. The rest of us: let us partake in songs that the Empikah taught us. Perhaps our music will pave the way for a successful journey and return of these young men with our Empikah brothers."