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Beyond the Fifth Gate
Chapter 1
Elita sat at her father's feet among a small group of locals meeting within a tiny cottage nestled in the rolling foothills. His finger traced the words on the ancient scroll. "Did you hear me? Listen to these words," he repeated in his teaching voice. "It doesn't say we who live in the country will be exempt. It says, 'Every town and village,' and that means us. We can't hide from the widespread 'increase in evil propensities.' I've heard they've taken over the cities and it's just a matter of time. . . We have to fight back while we have the chance."Too young. The very words irked her. After all, at age 12 she was only three years from marrying. Not that she knew anybody who wanted to marry her. Things had changed so much since the mantids' arrival. Her father restricted her comings and goings. He believed the mantids were trying to take over the world. It was their fault she had to sit through these teaching times without a playmate. Her father insisted that the prophecies be handed to the next generation to prepare them to recognize and fight the evil presence.
"The Chosen One," he said looking up at an invisible presence with a hint of awe, "will save our world." He placed his hand on Elita's head and smiled.
Torkel, their closest neighbor, from a farm five miles down the road, shifted on his hard chair next to the fireplace. "How will we know who this Chosen One is? What is the sign so that we will not be misled?"
"Good question." Elita's father looked down into her eyes. "Elita, would you like to answer Torkel's question?"
Elita glanced at the floorboards and pulled in a deep breath, but nodded. She looked at the men and women gathered with them. Some were friends, others strangers. "We'll know by the alignment of the five planets." She glanced toward her father who tipped his head for her to go on. He knew this aspect of the prophecies fascinated her. "Kamali will appear in the east marking the first gate. The Chosen One will see his light and has one week to travel through all five mystical gates and return to our world. Upon their return, the Chosen will carry with them something from each gate. Something to save us. . ." She looked to her father for affirmation.
"Thank you, Elita."
Her chest swelled with pride, and he turned his attention back to his guests. "Those living in the time of the alignment will know who the Chosen One is. It's not important that we know now, unless. . ." He leaned and stared into the sky through the window. "No, I don't see anything other than our sun setting in the sky, and it tells me it's getting late."
A few of the people chuckled. Elita shifted her weight on the wooden floor and rubbed her knees through her trousers. Her mother walked into the room balancing a tray of crisp sweets and bent to offer one to her husband.
He plucked one of the honey-sweetened treats from the tray and while her mother served the others, her father snuck his crisp into his daughter's hand. She sat up a little straighter and sucked the golden treat. It lasted so much longer that way.
The people exchanged farewells at the door until the last of them left the small family to the peace Elita enjoyed. The size of the gatherings had diminished over the last couple of years. It hurt her father so she didn't talk about it. Many called him a fanatic.
"Elita, you did well this evening. Before our next meeting, I'd like you to make a list of the prophecies you know." Her father walked across the small square room to rekindle the fire in the fireplace.
Elita's heart dropped. Not another child in the province has to complete assignments like this. It's not fair. "Why can't I just tell you?"
He brushed soot from his hands and propped them on his thighs as he knelt before the growing fire. "Very well, what can you tell me?" He placed a log on the flame.
"Well. . ." She played with the dark braid draped over her shoulder. "There will be deceit, lying and criminal activity."
"Very good. And what do you think that means?"
She shrugged. "I guess it means by the time the conjunction of the planets happens this world won't be a very nice place to live. Is that why you want to fight back?"
Elita's mother looked at her father and swallowed hard. She wiped her hands on her apron out of nervous habit.
"Can I ask a question?" Elita asked.
"Of course, and please sit in the chair." He pointed.
She scurried to the chair and sat while searching for the right words. "It's . . . well . . . there's five planets and five gates, right?"
"That's correct."
"And there's seven days to complete the journey?"
"That's correct."
"Here's what I don't understand. Why is it seven days when there are only five gates?"
"That's a good question, a perfect example of how people misread the prophecy. It is true there are five gates and five planets. However, when the planets align it marks the fact that the Chosen One will have seven days to make it through all five gates. What if it takes three days to find the first gate? How many days are left?"
The realization of her father's words brought new understanding. "You mean if they don't see Kamali's light for the first three days they only have four days left to make it through all the gates?"
"That right." He nodded. "And once the Chosen One enters that first gateway there is no turning back. The gate closes. It's a one-way journey."
"That's scary. The Chosen One will have to be brave."
"Another thing to realize is that if there isn't faith enough to see Kamali, the alignment of the planets will come and go without the journey taking place."
"Part of me hopes that none of this happens until I'm old."
Elita's mother chuckled. "I know what you mean." She patted the seat beside her and Elita moved to sit beside her mother, who started to unbraid her long hair.
Her father shook his head. "It's not about us. It's about all of mankind."
In her heart, Elita trusted the prophecies, but they also scared her.
"Why would people miss the coming of Kamali? He is to shine like a bright light in the east."
"Those who are not looking for him will not see him."
Her mother brushed her hair. "Go to the well and wash while I set dinner on the table."
Elita stepped into the twilight and wandered to the well at the back of the clearing. A cacophony of birds called to one another as the sun slid toward the horizon. I love this. She missed being outside, riding her horse freely and hunting with her bow. Even though she'd never seen a mantid, part of her already hated them. It was their fault she had to stay with her parents all the time.
The cool water refreshed her. She dried her face on her sleeve when an odd sense of foreboding stopped her. Silence. Not a bird or cricket sounded. She hurried toward the cottage, the crunch of long grass beneath her feet. Smoke scented the air. In the distance she saw the glow of a large fire. The village!
She turned the corner to the front of the cottage and skidded to a stop. Large ugly creatures hunched to fit through the door. They stepped outside dragging her parents with them. "Father!" she ran toward him when something cool and hard clamped her forearm and scraped her skin as she struggled to free herself.
The diminishing sun highlighted the horror on her mother's face. Her usually happy eyes widened with fear. (more)
Windwalker- a fantasy novel by Donna Sundblad
Chapter 1 - The Telling
She dipped her fingertip into the mud and painted a circle on her forehead representing the eternal hope.Fires burned in the bellies of small stone statues forming a circle within the Kiva. An orange glow warmed the chamber to the center of the gathering. In the back of the crowded cave, Awena sat against the wall resting her arm across her stomach. The baby kicked. Soon, her life with Cedrick would change. What kind of world would their child find? Cedrick's talk of fulfilled prophecies and the cycle of death scared her.
Steady beats of a drum echoed within the chamber. Cedrick stepped to the center of the circle. He sat upon the teaching stone and the drumming stopped.
"Ojal pulled her poncho tighter and steadied her steps with the twisted staff," Cedrick started. He glanced at the intense faces, young and old. "The chilled mountain breeze tugged wisps of steel gray hair free from thick braids draped over her shoulders. She stopped, leaning against the sheer rock wall. Cold seeped through the thick, hand-painted animal skin, but it felt good; this trek was almost more than her old bones could endure. She flexed her foot and secretly cursed the malformation."
A nearby group of girls huddled and whispered. "She was the last of the Augurs," the oldest said.
"There will be another," the girl beside her piped up, "chosen from among the Windwalkers." (Read more.)
Pumping Your Muse
by Donna Sundblad