Adventures of Oahron (part 2)

“Toughen yourself like a Zenroe!” Jahru shifts his brow as he and little Oahron stumble onward through nature’s brightly decorated pathway. Things quiet as they creep through both light and shadow with thoughts of happiness and sadness passing in the boy’s journeying mind; not even the little crawly bugs make much noise beyond this point. The long silence that lingers around them pleases the boy’s stern-chinned uncle, even if nothing or nobody else.

Plants continue to crawl and pinch their way along the bark of the mighty trees as if nature were reaching out a hand. The two step a little deeper into the woods, and the insects once again begin an enchantment of rhythmic tunes like an intricate instrument of many strings which alternates between rhythm and silence. Jahru lets out a breath and occasionally takes time to dig through his bag and grab hold of his canteen to enjoy a nice long drink of “water,” or what other Zenroe might call “toxic-water!” Glaring at his uncle’s long brown tunic, the boy begins to question all things about this man because he never really learned who his uncle was within these few short years of life.

What is Uncle so angry about?

Why does he move so slowly, and with such sadness on his face?

Why does he hide his tail; does he even have one?

Why are his ears like that, and most of all…

Does he really care about me, does Uncle... even really love me?

“Why not...” the child whimpers in the sad silence as his uncle's ear twitches. Questions rave his little mind and make the stroll seem so much shorter because of his mental-absence seeming to affect time. He barely pays attention to all the strange plants and bugs that they are squishing along the pathway upon their muddy boots... Through many miles from their humble town, the sky begins to darken as the heavens glow with beautiful speckles from a wide assortment of starlight within every seen direction around them.

Tonight the sky is purple and blue, the colors of royalty and of peace. The expanse has such shiny little specks, and the questions along with day fade away into nothing of any real importance. Jahru knows that every step made is another step closer to his brother, yet the boy in this moment only wishes he could know more about his uncle’s great journeys. He can see by his limp and by his scars that he must be a hero, or perhaps a tormented soul beneath the rough skin that hides his heart too hard to be found. Either way, he walks close by, and pretends to hold his uncle's hand as he follows behind his fading shadow with his own.

Silent hours pile high with nothing except the forest speaking. The travelers look up to a tall grass mound that is occupied with several species of multi-toned flora, evenly spaced-out through the tall grassland. The sparkly insects of the night dance around in synced melody to pollinate among them with gleeful cheeks and little chirpy squeaks. Jahru shakes his head as he eases his feet into the grass that is piling high over his boots. The near full day of traveling leaves limited toll on their Zenroe bodies as they can finally ease them down for rest.

This is a decent spot to lay our head, Jahru concludes as he squishes his toes in the mushy grass. Aside from being a tad bit tired, the constant wandering has edged them only to the slightest ache of limb and mind.

“Right here, Uncle? Are we going to rest for nighty-time?”

“Over there…” he points to the higher hilltop, and both begin to climb with few words remaining within their slouch. At the tip-top the two lay with their carcasses spread and their backs resting gently upon the swaying grass. Oahron sits up to stretch and pull off his little boots, rubbing his sweaty toes through his fingers.

“Ahh,” the boy groans with a wide-mouth smile tilting his head back as he falls over. “Between the stinky toes,” he laughs looking towards his uncle --- hoping for a grin. Jahru turns his head coldly as if he does not want the boy to reflect into the grim expression of his eyes. They remain at least five feet separated from each other, even farther apart from when they had walked together.

“Why are there so many stars out tonight, Uncle?” Oahron asks in a whisper as he lifts up his head, being unable to seal his eyes asleep. Now calm and relaxed the tan-skinned Zenroe answers without a touch of annoyance for the first time since their travel had begun.

“It is one of those nights with the complete moon, you know…” he responds softly as his eyes widen to somber memories. “When the moon rises in its full formation... I heard that the great deity fills the dark purple skies above with stars to speak to us, and even guide us towards things to someday come as the moon and the stars pass through their portals that are unknown… even to us. You know, messages written as stars and stuff.

Kid, you know... in fact our whole history is up there up in the skies I’ve heard. The heavens are like some endless scroll or something. That is why there are so many of those stars out there, too many to even count... to ever be counted just like the descendants of the great prophet from the strange human’s lore that they told our people so so many moons ago.” Moving over to Oahron’s furry ear, his uncle whispers, “Its great mystery is still secret though, you know, kid?”

Oahron scoots closer, “But what does it say way up there, Uncle?”

“How should I know?” Jahru begins to yawn, wondering the same question himself. “Your daddy never taught you, huh? We used to talk about it all the time when we were cubs, but yeah, sometimes I would ignore his words even though I knew they were true… I would ignore it because, you know, it is more work to understand sometimes… even when you know that it is right.”

With a shrug from his nephew, "If it's right, why not just believe it... The moon makes you different, Uncle. I like you this way."

“Eh," Jahru brushes it off as he shakes his head. "Well I figured that he didn’t teach you much. He was never into all that stuff once he grew older. Anyway, that is like ancient folklore to me now as well, just get some rest, kid, okay? I really don't believe in anything anymore.”

“B… but... Uncle…” he reaches his paw towards the man as he turns away. “You got to believe in something. That’s why you told me this stuff!? Right…? Right, Uncle...?” They say nothing as the young boy's voice echoes into silence and places his furry ear upon the ground. Wetness glazes his face and drenches his fingers between the squishy blanket of grass. For but just a moment, Jahru looks to the sky with a half-receptive gaze and begins to think of what he has just answered to his nephew:

How much more really is up there, way up above us in the clouds? Did I tell him there is no hope anymore in our… our stupid cursed world? Is that what is really true now? Why did Mehix give up on believing? He was the strong one of us both. Was it because of me? And so what exactly are those messages that lay riddled by the heavens way up above us in the sky? I see things that I do not understand. I know there has to be something up there… something that is more than us, both man and beast, or whatever kind of creature we are.

Well then... just well… Oh well, it’s nothing that can be proven anyway. The dead ones are still dead, and not in my arms at all! And there is not one bit that I can do to change what has happened to them, not now, not ever again, the distorted Zenroe ponders as he battles within his fierce mind, keeping his head low as he shreds apart the grass between his fingertips.

Nephew already closed his eyes, but for some reason, I cannot… I can never just sleep. God, I just wish I could sleep.

The shrill brute continues to reflect within the many deep pools inside the back of his stormy mental-place. He tries to avoid his own questions, or too many questions at that, for his bitterness keeps him from even wanting to grasp at the truth, for once you find it, you are accountable to it no matter how much anger is still built up inside you. Even focusing on the chirping sounds of nature around their campsite, more odd questions stir up through his bitter head:

Is it possible for there to be a metric end to the universe, and if so, how? And if not, how not? Even if ever expanding, there has to be an end somewhere... And what about time, how could there possibly be a beginning, but if there’s not, how could there always be something continuously going back zillions and zillions of years, then what about another zillion, and even more after that only continuing to pile back? Was something always there, and how did it all start? How can something be infinite, but in other ways, how can some things not?

“Blah, blah, graaah! Now this is stupid!” Jahru wails aloud --- don’t think too deep or you too will get lost in the same confusion others have. Even in the human’s world, serious thought on these questions lose people, but of course they have less understanding than we do, and one question can make a man go crazy for a lifetime! In all truth, answers sometimes are impossibly unclear, never to be understood, yet obviously present by design.

[It is said that one powerful Deity, a divine being rules over all others, but one may never understand why the presence of this Being can feel so close and so distant at the exact same moment in this twisted world of broken souls. The light of this Being had no beginning, for life had always existed, for we know it, and deep below the surface, every other living creature knows as well.]

The glow of the bright moonlight carves an uneasy image into Jahru’s head as if he can almost read the words of the Almighty. The even stare of the lunar beauty seems much deeper than usual as the colors of gray, the darkness, and even fire seem to reflect past the white ashen glow... Breathing in a heavy breath, he closes his eyes and shakes his head to wave away the odd magnetism from his sudden and strange lunar fascination.

“Grrr... this is not silly. It is stupid! I cannot keep my mind on something I cannot ever figure out! I am so exhausted and need to get some rest; I am a grown Zenroe. I am not a child, for I put that behind myself when I was still young, but I am lost right now” he grumbles within the echo of the wind.

The picture before him remains as clear as it did when his eyes were open. Even clearer now is the image of the flames swaying across the dark skies --- lighting him a pathway. Fires are spreading throughout the Valleys of Zenron, and there is a scrawny man with an evil face. The creature is not more visible than the shadows that wrap their arms around him, pulling out his soul...

The man floats high above the heated blaze, and a fur-covered beast stands below him towards his backside on what looks like a mountain with fire roaring from out his eyes, more heated than the bowels of a great furnace. Alone and dissatisfied with a confused smile... he stands there as the portrait fades away... Jahru awakens in a jolt as his heart beats like a drum and his mind unclear and uncertain of what he has seen.

It was a mere dream is all, “but it felt more real than life itself,” he whispers softly with confused eyes. He dabbles his fingers across his sweat and looks at his hand as if it were dripping down blood, but it is not blood, sweat pours across his brow like a fountain as he begins to loosen his dampened clothes. His torso hurts as if it were pierced and a bright beast were above him with great open teeth and what looks like scales upon his arms.

“What is this cold kind of pain that I am able to taste?” the weakened Zenroe snarls as his palm splats against his thumping heart beneath the damp tunic. “It’s not blood. I swear it is not.” With Oahron’s head now resting on his uncle's belly, Jahru shifts the kid just a bit over to manage sitting up. The Zenroe's skin has become drenched and icy cold past his ears, making his hair stick to his back. Using his stern arm to lift his shaky body, he uses his wrist to swat the wetness from his forehead.

“I guess it were me who watered the grass tonight. What a crazy epiphany I have wandered through though, at least in a great while,” he grumbles audibly beneath his breath. His heart pounds like a voodoo drum. His pupils have shrunken thin, and he is shaken as if the flames were real and the fire had breached his now red face as his skin warms. He can still feel the flames inside of his chest. He just doesn't know what it is, or if it meant anything at all! But it was powerful. He glances down with his sharp orange eyes at little Oahron with drool dripping in a puddle from the young Zenroe's mouth.

“Stupid kid,” he carefully whispers with a paw through the child's hair. “I wonder what your destiny is? If it were anything like mine.” Taking another breath he gives stare against the child’s rounded face. The boy sleeps calmly with his mouth closing to a smile, and his hands together by his side, nearing closer to his uncle. Jahru wipes the torn grass out from his nephew’s fingers and shakes his head.

“You have some dreams too, huh kid?” Oahron’s hands and face are so tiny compared to Jahru’s. His nose is little with an odd immature shape. Not even his cheeks align respectably with the rest of his head as he breathes again with his mouth just slightly open. Jahru closes his eyes and grins to himself, giving off a halfway relaxed chuckle, tightening his hand over the boy's hand for merely a moment before letting up. Jahru brushes the side of his sharp fingers gently across the side of his nephew’s slobbery face.

“Kid...” he mumbles, tightening his teeth and turning his head against the wind. “Even when you sleep, you spit on me. But you are a good kid, Oahron,” he says nasally with a bit of rasp overtaking his voice.

“I am certain I fail you as an uncle as I have others I cannot even count, but you will do just fine on your own, kid, or at least back with your own lousy parents.” The brute pauses, trying to calm his mixed thoughts as he rubs his hand against his face, trying to wipe off the glare of the moon. “I have no doubt in that, even if I doubt everything else in my life. This is about the only time I can really talk to you without you getting me so damn mad.” He latches his fingers upon the boy’s furry ear, sliding his thumb as he moves his face closer.

“My youngest dear nephew, I will be honest now that you rest… Truly honest with you. I am… I am very sorry for who that I am! The way I am...” At just that exact moment, the boy begins to turn his head as his eyes open to a squint, but Jahru’s fingers keep his head in place as he drifts back into the dreamland.

“Grrr… Damn it, Oahron… We know that you deserve better than what my splintered paws can fathom, but after everything in my life... I cannot change who or how I am in this dark illusion of a world, even if I injected this all into myself, getting my soul to where I am bound for the rest of my cursid continued days, on this cursed planet, that once looked like a home for a strayed-out beast. With every snare and trap I have set, and has been set for me in turn, I promise you, that it is not.”

Jahru uses both hands to lift the boy’s heavy head from off his lap to lay him alone onto the moonlit grass. He is aware that his thoughts are scrambling, and does not want to wake the child with the chaos of his mind that scratches across his face into the deep pools of his eyes. After their long travels to this spot, he wants the kid to have at least some fragment of rest for his body... even if he is mean.

Kneeling down, he places an arm around Oahron’s side, almost as if to secretly give the Zenroe cub a hug before standing above him, looking downward with a look of abandonment. He turns his back towards the young Zenroe boy and begins to walk away as the wind pushes distance between them.