Funeral Procession II

There exist stories that have been passed down from father to son for generations. Stories of Heroes who slay dragons, of farmers who became great kings from nothing, of explorers who found mythical beasts or kingdoms. Drobei's father had once told him about the solitary elves in their hidden kingdoms and impregnable cities. He had spoken of how the weakest of their race could slay ten men in a heartbeat, and their greatest could kill a hundred. Their archers could pluck birds out of the air like it was a childish game, and each one was clad in the most ornate of armors. But, above all those tales, his father had always made a point to speak of the women. The fairest of the whole world, he had called them many times. "Better than Mother?" he had once asked him. "Yes." his father held no reservations admitting. 

But now he found himself questioning the tales of elvish women he had grown up on. The crowd of spectators, dancers, and entertainers had parted enough that he had found Maral. She sat by a large bond fire, blazing high in the night sky. The bright orange illumination of the blaze outlined her elegant physique as she sat staring at the stars that hung above them. 

He grasped the smooth golden necklace that rested in his pocket and drew it out. "Here's my chance, I can tell her how I Feel." He stood from his unseen place in the crowd and took a seat beside her. 

"Hey, I was looking for you at the funeral, but I couldn't find you." Now that he was even closer, he suddenly felt his arms growing weak and his hands sweating. Her face soon turned to his, but something in her face gave him pause. He could tell She was distracted or lost in her thoughts. "I Have something for you."

"Oh?" she replied with an uncaring look in her eyes.

He thrust his fist out with the necklace in hand. He cringed the eagerness he displayed and shied away. "Its.. It is the necklace you traded for our ale last night."

Suddenly, with a speed that half scared Drobei, she swiped it from his hand and gave him an angry look he had never seen on her. "Why were you watching us? Did you eavesdrop too?" she said in an almost shout. 

Taken aback by the sudden shift in mood, he suddenly wished to be anywhere but there at the moment. "No, No. I.." Her eyes bore into his soul, making him stutter. "I was working that day. I.. I just wanted to return it as a gift. I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sorry." he cursed himself for being weak as tears welled up in the corner of his eyes as the events unfolded. 

Almost as fast as she took the necklace from his hand, her mood corrected and she smiled again. It was a hollow meaningless smile he knew, but he was happy to be out of that situation.

She started up, probably as anxious as Drobei to get out of the situation. "Wait before you go, Have you seen Bakar? He's been missing since last night and his parents were asking for him."

"No," she said panicked, and left in a walk that was more of a sprint. 

"Well, that went poorly." The sudden voice made him jump. It was Arik, who was fidgeting with an oddly curved scimitar and new sheathe. 

Face palming he asked, "How much did you hear?"

"Don't worry, my poor, poor Drobei, I only heard everything." He said as he patted him on the back. "She's a Noyan, if you want her you need to impress her with feats of arms and riches. That's how my dad got my mother. He slayed a.."

"I know! He slayed the best warrior of her village and stole her for himself. You have told all of us the story dozens of times." He took a breath to calm himself down. "Besides, what experience do you have with women anyway."

Arik's shoulder slumped as he spoke. "None, I did come close on time, though." 

"Hey did Maral seem weird to you?" To him, Maral seemed different.

Arik shrugged "Maybe, To us Tolon was our leader to her he was a father figure. Let her cope however she wants."

His father dismissed him from work for the night "Enjoy the festivities," He had said to him. So, with little else to do, he wandered the city of tents. He sampled rare delicacies laid out or examined trinkets and items taken from raids. He had even found a warrior selling enslaved women to a group of rich noyans. He felt a tinge of pity at that sight. As a necessity, the tribes did not keep slaves, for they did not live very long, nor were they worth the cost. But women were different, their people rarely married inside their tribe, so instead, they married members of other tribes or as was more common, they took women from raids or as tribute from the settled peoples.

"At least they will be treated well," He thought to himself as he moved along. 

It did not miss him that many of the items on sale were distinctly northern in style. Arik had told him that the Khorigdluud tribe had a very successful raid recently, but the sheer amount of goods that flowed was staggering to behold.

Soon, he found himself in front of a balefully colored green yurt. A Shaman He knew at once, the air grew thick with witchery and foreboding. 

"Enter," The word came in a whisper from some unknown source he could not discern, it was like a wisp of wind.

With an unlikely boldness, he strode into the tent. He had spent some time with Tartar that he could ignore the alarms in the back of his mind. But still, he knew that this was not Tartar, this was someone unknown to him.

"Enter" The unbidden voice came again, more impatient than the last. 

The inside of the tent was dark as nothing illuminated the yurt, nothing but small blue runes that did nothing to the darkness but enticed more of it. 

A rustle of movement caused him to spin to face it, but he found nothing. He was alone but not alone. Something was there, he could not see it, instead, he sensed it. It was like a foul smell of rotten flesh but it was in the mind and not the body.

 "Sit" At the words, a chair screeched across the floor with a sickening sound.

It was then that he noticed the floor wasn't covered with the fabric of a tent, a rug, or even dirt. A milky white stone stretched across the floor, lines of crimson zigzagged in an erratic pattern across the stones. So, to did he see that the walls were not as they appeared on the outside, they were red and meaty looking, as if he could touch them and cause a bleed. 

"Offer your hand." 

He did as was told, palm outstretched in the air. 

The thing, for it, could not be human, appeared towering over Drobei, It was cloaked in darkness but even so, he could tell it was still hunched and hiding its true size. Great hooves manifested from the mist at the beast things feet but each hoof had a dozen razor-sharp claws that dug into the floor. Its head was fleshless, a pure white skeleton of a goat but with the horns of a great elk. 

Whatever it may be, it was not for him to gaze at, he turned his head down to avoid any part of its monstrous body. Still, as if its very presence was a poison blood wept from his eyes, nose, and ears. 

"I should not be here, I have entered hell itself." His heart beat so fast he believed it would explode.

"You were sssummoned" The voice came from a dozen places all at once. The thing had read his mind, even now he could feel it probing his thoughts and memories.

A black, forked tongue licked the palm of his hand, just as the shamans were like to do. But instead of power surging in his body, as happened when he visited Tartar, his hand burned and bled from the touch. He could not move, his hand was stuck in the air where he had offered it. 

"W.. what are you?" He asked painfully. 

"Servant, seer, beast, man. I am many thingsss" Suddenly it was behind him, but he could not turn. 

"Why am I here?" The being must have already known he was going to ask that as it was already speaking before he finished,

"Prophecccy."

A hand shot out of the dark, the creature's hand he knew, but it came from the front while it was behind him. Four digits from the hand dug into his head, the talons pierced his head and dug into his brain. 

Then it came, unfiltered, unending. So much information that millennia passed in a second. 

Blood, Fire, Power, Gods, Magic, Love, Hate, Life, Death, Fame, Infamy, Desolation, and Everything In Between. A Blood Red Stallion Mounting The World, Beneath It An Ocean Of Blood, A Sea Of Bones. 

A Time Of Peace, The Rise Of Their Gods And The Death Of Others, A New Era. He Stood Chained In Love And Loyalty To The Stallion Of Crimson. Famous, Infamous, Loved And Hated, A Judge A Jury, An Executioner All At Once

IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BEIT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BEIT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BEIT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BEIT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE, IT MUST BE