THE LAST KEEPER

Chapter 1: Chapter 1: THE NIGHT OF THE SILENT SAND

The night had started with the silent hum of the desert sand. It loved its inhabitants and it whispered to them. However, the sand had gotten restless as the day went by. Perhaps it was because the first daughter of the desert was about to bring life into the world. The clan sand whisperers hummed to the sand to calm it and it calmed down for a while, perhaps the silence of an impending storm. The N’folu clan sat in the loins of the land of N’garu, hidden from the world. It was the smallest in number yet the oldest of the tribes of the south.

N’garu, also known as ”The Land of Four Winds.” is a home to the ancient echo archives and echo protectors. They protected the echo through all generations. It is their duty.

Perhaps they knew what awaited them since nothing was hidden from their eyes or their touch. That night the sadness of the sand could be heard as it wailed. The tribe council knew the United Tribes were closing in on the last surviving Archive enclave. The whisper of the sand had been carried by the wind. They didn’t know why the sudden attack, but they knew they couldn’t let them have the echo. The death soldiers of the three tribes gathered to aid the call.

”I can feel movement in through the sand, an enemy.” The daughter of the sand glowed protectively her eyes going black making those around her shadder with fear. Her name is Nathari’Harina, Keeper of the Living Memory. With it also came great power and responsibility. The black in her eyes however disappeared a second later when another wave of labour pain hit her making her topple with pain.

”Nathari’Harina, as the echo archives’ bearer and protector, if you let your power spiral out of control, you will kill the child” the middle aged midwife, Inzari’Yavinka warned her. She had a lot of experience bringing babies into this world and she had never lost a single child.

”Cowards attacking when I’m weak!” she sneered with disgust, shaking with rage.

Only two pregnant N’folu women in labour remained in the innermost part of the echo holder, as all the other clan members disappeared into the desert to create a barrier to protect their bearer. They might have been the least battle oriented tribes yet as they scattered into their dessert their eyes black almost swallowing the night, they knew what had to be done. They sat scattered in the desert in thirteen formations each led by a clan elder of all the thirteen clans of N’folu. The patterns on their bodies moved to their hands. Their connection and whispers danced in the sand before then in unison. They threw their capes back to expose their shaved heads. They touched the crowns of their heads as a promise before binding their lifeforce to strengthen the echo. A final clap of their hands coming together marked the final step of the ritual to use their life force to protect their keeper and her unborn child. However long it took.

Inside the echo holder, the first mother cried as she finally pushed out her baby. The baby did not cry however, she was dead. Inzari’Yavinka gasped. That was the first dead baby she had delivered. ”This is a bad omen” she whispered. The mother died shortly after, stricken with grief. Inzari’Yavinka shook her head but she didn’t stop to grieve as she got to work to help Nathari deliver her baby. It was difficult and the baby was breached.

”Something is wrong outside.” Nathari growled again in both pain and panic. She could feel the lifeforce of her tribe fading and she didn’t dare to think of the worst case scenario. As her labour got intense she could also taste the danger move even closer and she could no longer feel the lifeforce of half her clan. Even in her weakened state she could see as thousands of flaming spears were launched at the echo holder.

One broke through the echo hall as her labour intensified and she pushed with all her might with the help of Inzari’Yavinka who was now sweating after pushing the child into a good position. When the child’s head showed the archive responded with a glow that was so intense to the eye of anyone who saw it.

”That’s strange, ” Inzari’Yavinka gasped. Nathari laughed with joy as she watched the echo respond to her child. ”You are the next keeper” she whispered in excitement before pushing again with all her might finally dispelling the child from her loins. The archive responded again much more violently, it trembled with power and its wall cracked with the weight of visions of the future. Echoes screamed warnings of the future, the visions formed into markings disappearing into Nathari’s veins. She gasped with all the visions she saw. Her eyes turned black before a tear in the form of blood flowed down her face.

”I’m sorry my child” she whispered, shutting her eyes for a second. ”I know what to do.” she whispered to the echo. As those words came out of her mouth the memory stone shattered like glass. The desert that had been silent since the start of the chaos suddenly as if to rant its rage, it rose in a spiraling storm circling around the echo.

The enemy who had been holding back scared to approach, suddenly watching the events unfolding with horror took it as an attack launched at then came the command.

”Kill them all!” the general ordered and they charged forward in hundreds killing the N’folu clan members who hadn’t already collapsed after being drained of their life force. Nathari could not only hear but see what was happening close by, as the new echo memories rushed into her head. She watched her tribe get slaughtered one by one and with one last cry she fell to her knee with the child in her hand. She was still bleeding heavily and she didn’t need to cut herself for the ritual; that followed.

”If you do that you will die!” Inzari’Yavinka warned when she saw what was about to happen.

”I have to.” she said, eyes going black. Inzari’Yavinka knew deep down what had to be done. So with one last resolve she said.

”Use my lifeforce then, you are weak from childbirth” she tore her wrist and fell on her knees too in front of Nathira. They could hear the hundreds of feet rush into the outer hall and it was only a matter of minutes before they caught up with them. Nathira bit her hand and touched her finger to her child’s mouth, then drew a symbol on her forehead and another on the ground, summoning the echo one last time . She smiled lovingly one last time before slapping her hands together with Inzari’Yavinka.

”As the keeper to protect you I bind you to this child. The echo trembled one time starting to become one with the child. Inzari’Yavinka collapsed first, her life force exhausted. She was old after all and too weak to handle the aftermath of the forbidden ritual they had just committed.

Nathira was no better, she had lost a lot of blood and she was standing at the jaws of death. She kissed her child one last time and apologized for not living longer to see him grow older. With her last breath Nathira summoned her guard, a royal Shadow guardian appointed to her at birth, his name Koru’Zalanko. She whispered a dying command directly to his head.

”Hide him. The echo must survive.” He was her last line, called only in dire situations upon the command he arose from the loins of the desert moving amidst a blur. His master needed him and the command she had issued he could keep to his death.

The guardian took the newborn, wrapped in barely any clothes, and fled through the collapsing hall. His ability to move fast and disappear was the major reason he was her shadow guardian. Whenever she was he could appear if summoned. As the northern troops broke the final seal, Nathari used her last breath to trigger the Archive Implosion, burying the hall under a mile of sand. Every enemy inside died.

Koru’Zalanko smuggled the baby northward, he believed that the most dangerous place is safest. Hiding him in plain sight was his only chance of survival. Keeping the child alive was the command from his master he had to obey. He also knew no southern settlement was safe. He carried the child through a storm so violent it erased all tracks of the desert itself protecting the infant. He called it, THE NIGHT OF SILENT SAND, the night when the desert swallowed an army and delivered a child.