It was early morning, the skies still fought to hold the blanket of black velvet that shrouded the plains, only the faint tinge of lavender and pink skimmed the edges of the horizon revealing that dawn was fighting its way to the surface once more in the age old battle of darkness and light.
One lone figure sat upon a large majestic silvery white kaiila, one that seemed as if made from the mists that swirled in an iridescent mantle along the ground, revealing and concealing many things in its cool caress. Something had pulled her to ride out this early in the morning, at first she thought it was just to watch the beauty of the sunrise for it was one of her favorite times of day, but as she sat there in the stillness, listening. She knew that was not the reason. For in the skies and mists she saw something, it unsettled her, but she did get the message that they were revealing to her. She would not ignore what was bestowed upon her, with a respectful nod to the skies, with a que to her kailla, he would turn and without warning ride fast and hard back to the camp. The rider and beast as always were one, for he bore no weight of a saddle or reins, he was a free spirit, he was a part of her as she as him.
When they arrived to the clan fires, she moved about waking the other elders. They would gather things needed for an emergency reading was required before the move, something was wrong, very wrong and she needed to see what it was and what they were supposed to do, it was rare that such a warning was given. And they each knew not to question but to heed it.
After a few ahns the elders had ridden to a sacred area of the plains not known by others and not seen by anyone unless they wished it to be known, it was known only to the elders. They moved about in a sacred manner setting up the stone circle. They would wait for just the right time and only then would Oyunblileg take the brush of twigs and feathers and walk around the circle, her words, though soft were reverent to all around her, speaking in the old language of the Tuchuk as they often did in such rituals, she would sweep out darkness and sweep out doom, only a pure ground was allowed for such work that was needed. Then she took her place and all other would follow taking their appointed places, each would perform their sacred task to create the energy and ambiance of sacredness that was required, each had to be in the space of thought and emotion in order to perform the ritual right. Tarra took a large sword that was for ceremonial use only, it was handed down to each generation of Haruspex, this one was handed to her by Nasatai before she died as Tarra took her place, it had also many turnings ago belonged to Tarras mother, grandmother and so forth. She lifted it reverently to the skies the blade catching the rays of light that would reflect into the circle with each step she took, her voice though musical in its chanting, held a different vibration and power as if the skies themselves spoke thru her. Each word spoken with purpose as the circle was protected and their area of work could not be harmed or touched.
Only then did they each work as one to see what omens would be revealed. They would channel an energy so great that it felt as if they stood within a fire, the winds would blow around them dancing and swirling speaking and howling as the lightening zig zagged across the sky heralding in the sudden onslaught of rain that was as cold as ice and felt as if shards of glass were going thru each of them, yet they held steadfast never breaking their concentration and never faltering in their commitment as even the ground seemed to shudder beneath them threatening to open up and devour them on the spot. This went on for many ahns, this was one of those times that such a reading would exhaust them and take almost everything out of them.
Suddenly there was only silence and almost eerie silence, no wind, no sound. It was as it they stood in a vacuum of nothingness. Tarra stood with the rest of them until when it felt right she would step to the center and upon the main alter sat the entrails of a fresh kill that the hunters had brought them, intricately marked fingers moved along the trails of blood and tissue as each minute thing revealed something. She stepped back visibly shaken, what she saw caused an alarming pallor to take hold of her skin and she almost could not breathe. What she saw was what awaited them if they left on the day that was set. The images of rivers of blood flooding the plains was so intense she could taste its sweet coppery taste, the arrows so many that they blocked out the sun casting a dark shadow over the plains followed by piercing screams of pain and death. None would be spared, all would be slaughtered within the span of a heartbeat. That was when she saw the one that always hovered. She spoke to the others, they quickly unmantled the circle and she went to find Ba'atar. She had to find him quickly, there was an urgency that she had never felt before, not since she was a child and she had seen the death of many Tuchuk. It unnerved her then just as much as it did now. It was a feeling she could not shake, and she could not get warm, a coldness gripped her so tight that her entire body would tremble from it.
There was no time to waste,still soaked from the rain she took an offered fur from one of the others as Mist Runner appeared from the outer edges of the plains and she quickly rode back to the camp weaving thru the wagons with a speed and urgency that none have ever seen before, for the first time she did not mask her emotions, she could not. Eventually she found him, dismounted, and revealed to him that they could not start the move on the date he wished to. Though the same path was still revealed to take and he was to watch for the sign on the trail of when to change the route to higher ground, the date had to be delayed by a few days, she gave him the day that they should begin the move. She told him of how it was revealed that they were to do an additional reading to see what the skies and winds were showing them she told him of what she saw if they left on that day. No Tuchuk would be left standing and none would be left alive.
She knew he would think on what she told him as she left him to see her own wagon, it would take most of the night for her to be able to recover from the reading, it would take many ahns before she would feel warm again or for the images to be removed from her mind. For her it would be a long arduous night. Though she would never complain of it. For her, such things were worth what was given in return.
