The Iron Forest: Ancestor's Legacy

Water flowed down Sana’s face in pink droplets as she washed away dirt and blood from the day’s battle. It felt cool against her scratched skin and eased the pain of her sore joints. It didn’t cleanse the sadness she had for the Shankur men and woman who died that day.

Afternoon set with the fires of Tashimur diminishing into puffs of smoke. Charred ruins were all that remained of the keep, with its surrounding houses thatchless and burned. The smell of pine was replaced with funeral pyres that blanketed the valley with the acrid odor of burning flesh. Those who survived the sting of a blade moaned at the healers’ care.

Sana walked among the wounded, stopping on occasion to render a smile of gratitude or a comforting embrace to the warriors that bled for their people. At first, she felt guilt, taking responsibility for their pain, but she realized it was the Chotukhan who caused all this. Every cry of agony or loss hardened her heart.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you,” Rajin said. He no longer wore his armor, leaving behind a tunic smeared with sweat and soil. The bandage she wrapped around his arm from an arrow that sliced the meaty part below the shoulder was still there, stained.

“I was freshening up,” Sana said with a slight smile. She welcomed his cheerfulness as a relief from the horrors of the day.

“Good, because I have someone you’ll want to see.” He grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her through a maze of warriors and tents.

They stopped at a group of men gathered near a stable. Their laughter radiated with cups held high in salute. A few of them parted to reveal the newcomers to the camp.

“Victor?”

Then Jinlin turned toward her.

“Victor!” she shouted. Wasting no time, she bolted, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed his lips.

“I’m glad to see you too.” Jinlin laughed.

Sana peeled away from Victor and gave the old man the same greeting, minus the kiss. “You made it back. Are they coming? Are the Shainxu going to join us?”

“They will meet us at the valley entrance. We decided to ride ahead.”

“Thank the Ancestors.”

Victor nodded as he glanced around at the smoldering remains of Tashimur. “I see you’ve been busy.”

Horns and laughter filled the air. Victor and Sana strolled among oilskin tents and makeshift shelters. Torches lit the camp in flickering light with a central fire, sending sparks skyward. The elk that fell during the day’s battle became the night’s meal, sending out aromas of roasting meat.

Victor felt like a celebrity among the tribes. Men and women lined up for a chance to see the Sky-Man with their own eyes. The story of his arrival to Earth spread like wildfire and everyone wanted to know what a real-live Ancient looked like. Most were disappointed that his thin build and less-than gargantuan stature didn’t fulfill the stories told: He appeared nothing more than normal, with his hide trousers and cotton tunic.

Each greeting ended with a cordial bow in the Shankur style of etiquette and an occasional gift, which he rejected with as much politeness as possible. True, he was the Sky-Man, but also the architect of humankind’s destruction—a detail he’d rather not reveal.

Sana stood by at each display or greeting with a proud smile, but Victor witnessed her suppress an aggravated look more than once for being forced to share his attention. He felt the same way when she was approached. The people considered her as their new queen and offered the same reverence and attention.

Rajin and Jinlin came to their rescue and dragged them to sit with the captains and heroes of the day. Most of the men either ate or drank and all of them laughed. They told stories of the past and remembered better days before King Akutu and his vile son took the throne. Women and the men danced to drumbeats that paced a rhythm for songs sung by those with half a voice. They celebrated life and victory like it was their last day. And for many, it may be. He tried not to feel guilty about that. Gaia herself absolved him of responsibility, but he still felt remorse over the past.

“There they are. Queen Sana and the Sky-Man—the warrior and the Ancient,” one of the eldest captains announced at their arrival, holding up a tankard of mulberry wine. His dark skin accentuated a charismatic smile. “Once the Chotukhan hear about how you took the gate, they will quiver in fear. By tomorrow, the stories will spread enough that Gathal will surrender by only your mere presence.”

Sana grinned and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I did what needed to be done. It was foolish luck, that’s all.” She reached into a woven basket that was held out to her for a piece of elk meat and bread. “We were fortunate Tashimur was lightly defended, but that just means there will be more Chotukhan to fight tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” another of the captains said. “You want to march onto Gathal that soon?”

Rajin answered, “With Abaddon awakening, we don’t have the luxury to hold here longer than we have to. It would be better if we hit the city before they realize our strength. It’s only a matter of time till they find out the Shainxu have left the Iron Forest, if they haven’t already.”

The group mumbled to each other, yet the pounding drums made it difficult for Victor to hear anything. They told him their names, but he struggled to keep track of them in the torchlight. Lords Avadas and Rhasis were fleshy, copper-skinned Atani men who sat next to him and Sana. The eldest was Lord Pashil, a thick Totan man with a head of frizzy graying hair. The rest he remembered from the Shankur village. Adi, a tall woman who carried a sword that looked more like a four-foot icepick, and the long-haired Baram, a man with a similar build as Victor but with a barreled chest.

“Maybe Lord Pashil is right,” Avadas said through a mouth full of bread. “If we show our strength, then perhaps King Shunlin will abide to terms.”

“No!” Sana snapped. “There will be no terms, no negotiations, no talks.”

The captains stared at her before eying each other. Victor waited to see who would be the first to rebuke her statement. He guessed the ‘Icepick Lady’ by the way she stopped fidgeting with her sword, but Lord Baram spoke instead.

“My queen, it is customary to discuss terms before committing thousands of lives to battle. I doubt the Chotukhan will accept anything in our favor, but we should still hear what they have to say. Gathal will not fall as easily as Tashimur, and King Shunlin knows it. A siege against those walls and defenses could take weeks, months.”

Sana stood. “Weeks and months, we don’t have. By then, Abaddon will unleash his Destroyers. Gathal needs to be taken now, not later.”

There were many nods in the group.

“Once we take Gathal, then what?” Lord Rhasis asked. “What about Abaddon? How are we supposed to defeat a god with nothing more than swords and spears?”

“With this.” Victor pulled out his data spike that glowed red, bright enough to lighten up the faces that surrounded him. Any light chatter stopped as everyone focused on the artifact. “There’s your weapon against Abaddon.” He handed it to Sana. “It doesn’t matter how big your army is. Abaddon will adapt eventually and overpower its strength in an attempt for self-preservation. That’s what happened to, what you call, the Ancients. The only way to defeat him is right there.” He pointed to the stick that made Sana’s hand glow.

“Will it get us over the walls?” Rajin asked.

“No. But if I can get in the city, I can insert this into Abaddon’s main frame, and he’ll shut down.” He knelt and smoothed the ground in an area that everyone could see. With his knife, he drew a map of the Chotukhan Valley. “The northern part of the Iron Forest is in what used to be Denver. If I remember correctly, there was a hyper-loop train that ran south to Santa Fe, right beneath Gathal. All along the way, there are emergency access tunnels and I’ll bet there’s one going to the city.”

Jinlin nodded. “Victor’s correct. The Shainxu discovered a tunnel underneath Abahar many years ago.” He looked disappointed. “But I’m afraid, my boy, it doesn’t go much further south than the lower part of the Iron Forest. It was caved in, so we dug through, only to find out the tunnel is full of water.”

“You mean the great well,” Sana said. “That’s where Gathal gets it water. There’s a well that never runs dry or freezes. My mother said that’s why the Ancestors put the city there in the dawn of days.”

“If we can get access to the well, then we can get into Gathal unnoticed.” Victor stood and started pacing. “The question is where to find an access point. Sana pointed out the water never runs dry or freezes, then it must be getting its source from an underwater spring… But where?”

The group shook their heads, and Sana returned to her seat with an impatient huff.

“A water treatment plant!” Victor blurted out in English, grinning.

Only Jinlin knew what he said but didn’t bother translating. “A what?”

“Your house,” he said, returning to their language. “Your house used to be a water treatment plant. They put them on natural springs to pump water for everyone to drink. I’ll bet we can get access there and follow the stream all the way to Gathal. It’s perfect.”

Jinlin stroked his mustache. “I think you’re right.” He smiled. “We must go there at first light.”

“Go where?” Sana asked.

“To Jinlin’s home,” Victor said. “At least what’s left of it.” He could see she had little enthusiasm for the idea of him running off so soon after their reunion. The feeling was mutual.

“I’m going with you.”

“I wish you could, but your place is here with your people. They will need you more than I.” He turned and addressed the captains: “If you put the city under siege, which will occupy their forces enough, they won’t notice us. Do what it takes to give us as much time as you can.”

“Like what?” Lord Avadas said.

“I don’t know.” He glanced at Sana with a smirk. “Negotiate terms. That alone will take a few hours.”

The night continued with campfires burning, but the dancing and drums subsided to random conversations. Some of the captains drifted away as the hours passed, but the others still drank to the theme of tomorrow’s events.

Sana spoke little, preferring to stare sideways at the fire. She didn’t look angry, nor were there any tears, yet the emptiness in her gaze showed her mind wandered. It was no surprise to Victor. He couldn’t fathom the burden she carried.

“Something bothering you?” Victor asked, moving to sit at her side. She smelled of lavender.

“I’m fine.”

He sighed. “Sana, you haven’t said more than two words in hours.”

She stopped staring at the fire, but kept her eyes fixed on the ground. “I’m tired.”

He glanced up at the moon. “Well, it is getting late.”

“No, silly. Not that kind of tired.”

“Tell me.” He rested his hand on hers.

She moved away, crossing her arms. “I have lost everyone dear to me.” She counted off with her fingers. “My mother, father, brother…” She looked into his eyes. “… and now you.”

That caught him aback. “Me? Sana, I’m right here. You haven’t lost me.”

“No, but when the moon hits the horizon, you’ll be leaving to Gathal. With everything about to happen, I may never see you again.”

“You don’t know that.” He attempted to hold her hand a second time, but she stood.

“You’re right. I don’t know. And honestly, I don’t want to.” She stormed off into the night. The remaining captains, Rajin, and Jinlin, stood at her departure. But Victor sat, watching her go.

One of the captains offered Victor a tent of his own, claiming it as a small gesture to the Sky-Man. A roof over his head for the night and not waking with a layer of morning dew was a welcome comfort. With Sana gone and the rest of the warriors, drinking, he had no reason to stay. That, and he was tired.

Victor worked his way through the maze of hide covered shelters. Most of them appeared alike, except for Sana’s. Her tent was much more extravagant: six square and triangular panels of bison hide constructed the walls with a deer-skin door. Light shined through the cracks, which gave the possibility she was still awake.

Temptation pulled at him to enter. He approached, trying to gather together the right words to say. Nothing seemed to right.

He turned and took one last glance at her deer-skinned door. “Not today.”

The tent given to him was not far from Sana’s. It was a single sheet of patchwork skins supported by a pair of pine poles. Victor wasn’t tall, but he walked in without enough height to fully stand. A pitcher of wine rested on a small table next with a small brazier fighting against the cool night air. He laid down on the goose-down cot with an exhale of relief. It was a far cry from sleeping on a bed made from spruce branches and packed dirt.

As comfortable as his bed was, Victor struggled to sleep despite Tashimur drifting into cricket songs and crackling torchlight. He stared at the hides above him and counted the stitches that held them together, but thoughts of Sana persisted.

It seemed like forever till his eyes drifted closed—then the flap to his tent parted. The outside breeze brought in a scent of lavender.

“Shhh,” Sana whispered when Victor jerked to sit up. She slipped into the cot with him, starting from the foot and crawling up till their eyes met. Her gaze penetrated him in a way he never felt before. She consumed him, made him breathless. He couldn’t move.

She veered down to kiss his neck. For an instant, Victor wondered if this was a dream, but the way her lips caressed his skin relieved any doubt. His hand reached under her shirt to the small of her back, rubbing in slow circles as he worked his way up her spine. Her soft skin felt warm against the night air.

She returned her gaze on him with green eyes twinkling. “I want you.” Her lips were less than an inch from his. He could feel her breath, quick and warm.

Victor drew her toward him to close the gap. A small sound escaped before they kissed. With a gentle touch, she ran one hand over his chest and untied her tunic with the other. The cloth dropped to reveal her nakedness that sent his heart racing.

Breaking the kiss, she grabbed his hand and slid it down over her breast. Everything about her intoxicated him. The tightness in her thighs, the hardness of her nipples, the small sounds.

“Sana.”