~ ~ ~ Laserfica Saga: Blood Cousins ~ ~ ~

That night, Mitokh dreamt of a thick forest – denser, darker and greener than any patch of woods he had ever seen.  Since he had never been beyond the winding mountain valley where he was born, the broad trees, tall ferns and undergrowth appeared foreign and alien to him.  For a long time, he wandered narrow trails meandering through the ancient forest.  Many of the trees were so broad, a dozen men would have trouble wrapping around them hand in hand.  The walk was pleasant and he was comfortable.

     “Greetings, my grandson,” came a young man’s voice.

     Mitokh looked to the side of the winding trail.  On a knobby root of an especially grown tree was a man in his thirties.  The boy knew it was Totek. “Greetings, Grandfather.  We all miss you.”

     “I know,” the man responded, hopping from the root with more vitality than Mitokh had ever seen from the masle. “I have to go soon, but you need to meet a few people first.”

     “Who?”

     “Come with me.”

     The man led Mitokh off the trail, into the trees.  It seemed a mile trek through the bed of ferns before they came to another man sitting on an old fallen trunk taller above ground than the man sitting on it.  Much of the dead tree had been buried over the years.  The log was rotten, having moss, ferns, fungi and saplings growing from it.

     Following his grandfather, Mitokh walked on a younger log that had fallen across the other at an angle.  The grandson examined the stranger; a man of modest stature, quite toned and muscular.  His black hair was tied back and he wore gypsy attire.  Though appearing Larivian, he felt foreign as all gypsies were.

     “This is Kloersoe,” Totek introduced the masle to his grandson.

     Mitokh knew it was and stared at the man that sat on the rotting log. Kloersoe smiled at the youngest for some time.  The young boy wondered why things were taking so long, if his grandfather was in a hurry.

     Eventually, Kloersoe broke the silence with a soft tone.  “Glad to meet you finally.  I know you have questions and you’re confused about things that are occurring to you.  I’m sorry for it all, though it is important – very important.  We don’t have time for explanations.  Your grandfather has to go soon.”

 There’s that time constraint again and yet none of them seem to be in a rush.

     Kloersoe continued, “While he’s here, I need you to meet a couple friends.  My friend will help you.”

     “Help me do what?”

      “Finish what I began. They will help eliminate an evil infesting Larivia and nobility.”

     The man swung his legs to the far side of the log, sliding off. Heading away, he gestured for Mitokh to follow.

     The boy’s grandfather jumped gracefully onto the ancient log, then off the far side.  “Come, come,” he beckoned the boy.  “We don’t have long. I’m being pulled.”

     Mitokh hopped onto the older log. He felt a tingle.  He knew he was on the threshold of a life decision.  He looked behind him, to his old life.  He only saw the forest, but he knew his childhood and life as a peasant was there.

     Totek was about to say something to the boy when Kloersoe placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him, “He has to make the choice himself.”

     “You don’t have time,” Totek replied in a hushed whisper.

     “I have time; you don’t.  I’m here until it’s done.”

     “You won’t be able to do this after I’m gone.”

     “Then I’ll do it another way.”

     “And if he decides not the come?”

“I’ll have to wait longer.  Maybe his cousin will do it.  You could introduce me before you get pulled away.”

     “Either would be a good choice.”

Mitokh listened to the conversation. In ways, it reflected his own thoughts.  The task at hand confused him.  He knew nothing of it, yet felt the growing need to leave his past behind in search of something he knew nothing about.

 The forest was quiet and the boy didn’t know what the future held for him.  The unbalanced flow of time continued; a hasty, sluggish passage.  He knew his past had nothing he wanted, except Thumela.

The boy turned towards the two men who waited.  Answers t to why the dreams nagged him was with them. He needed answers – answers he would have to gain without his friend. He hopped down on the far side.

     Kloersoe led the way, followed by Totek and Mitokh.  A short distance later, the three approached two gypsies  sitting at a small campfire within a stony crevice; a man and woman. The pair talked quietly in the secluded patch of woods seeming more familiar to Mitokh, yet not known in the valley.

     “This is Lumow and Pintaen,” Kloersoe told the boy, indicating the pair.

Lumow looked to those standing nearby, nodding to Kloersoe.  He was tall and slender, having a thin face with a goatee, and was dressed in common clothing of gypsies. Pintaen gave Kloersoe a smile.  She also wore common gypsy attire and was a petite, deceptively fragile looking femella.

     “I have to go,” Totek told them all. To his grandson, “Mitokh.  You’re a man now – a good man. I know you will do what needs to be done.”  He hugged his grandson then walked further into the alien forest.

“Grandfather.  I don’t know what to do.”  There was no reaction.  Mitokh wasn’t sure if he was heard.  Totek walked around a tree beyond sight.

 The forest grew darker, as the suns set.  Kloersoe turned to Mitokh. “Remember Lumow and Pintaen. Accept their help.  You will need it. Finish what I began.”  The forest darkened and went black.

     As Mitokh had done so many times since the strange dreams began, he woke with a chill, perspiration beading his brow.  This time he called out, “Grandfather.” 

Eskoer woke from his brother’s outcry.  Realizing what was yelled, Eskoer reminded his younger brother, “He’s dead. Go back to sleep.”