Run By Run

“That’s fine. Don’t we have to wait for the others to sort our gear for training?” I knew the truth of the matter, I just wanted another day to relax, go for a swim and meet more of the tribe.

He points at my legs. “You need nothing less to run. Now follow me, Shepherd Seth.” Toomas begins an easy jog through the village, I reluctantly give chase and soon we pass by Piia along the way. I give her a mocking sour face and she winks back in reply. The pace is steady and fairly manageable, my damaged body has healed due to the elixir during my last empowerment, however deep fatigue sits within. Tippees of fern leaves are scattered all around us, and the Satyrs going about their daily tasks stop to wave and bid us good day. We circle a cleared section where a gathering of children is being educated by a young female Satyr, however a mosh pit is forming on a particularly large distraction, Cane. The young teacher, now flustered and pulling children off the hippo's back, is losing control. I skid to a stop next to them.

“Cane, stop limiting these kids' education. Go hang somewhere else.”

He stands abruptly, causing many to fall off with screams of delight, then runs away into the bushes.

“Thank you Shepherd.” The teacher says whilst attempting to restore order in the class.

“No worries!” I yell back as I continue my jog.

Unfortunately, Toomas didn’t stop and disappeared into the green sea. I keep the direction we originally had, starting to run faster in hopes of catching him.

A bush explodes next to me, a dark brown shape hits me midstep and we roll in the dirt as Toomas weighs his body on me, crushing me.

I remove my face from a wet mossy patch of green plant matter that is now mashed into my hair and skin. He stands over me triumphantly like a predator looking at its next meal.

He points in my face. “Slow, I was walking and you fell behind.”

“Hold on a rutting leaf fall, I kept up. I was saving that teacher's class from Cane.”

“I saw no teacher and you did not see me when I was hidden in Mother’s shroud. Stealth is key to survival, this I can teach you.”

“I thought speed was key.” I say sarcastically, this silly lecturing tactic is grating me.

“Does Mother choose a bear to become one of her Guardians for their immense strength alone? Many attributes are considered, including their attuned senses, killer instincts, sharp claws and teeth. Do you want to be a bear or a Guardian?” Toomas says, now serious for the first time.

I see his point, just like Piia would say about survival in Silva it requires your best at all things.

“A Guardian Shepherd.” I claim, he grins at my answer and offers me a hand.

His thick arms lift me easily to my feet. “Prove it Shepherd Seth, run like Mother’s chosen.”

And with that he turns and begins to sprint into the bush, not jogging this time, but actual death and his scythe are chasing you, sprinting. A little energised by his speech, I give chase.

I paint my shoes blue, the fluid resembles acrylic paint mixed with mushroom cereal in milk. I puke again at the sight, my stomach cramping along with my hamstrings and calves. I discovered a lot about Toomas on the run or marathon sprint. He is incredibly agile, able to leap logs, rocks and buttress roots without breaking his stride. His stamina never wanes, unlike mine which was extinguished by lunchtime.

And he does not exaggerate.

We ran hard and fast for hours, the same mushroom calories that now covered my lower half were an incredible energy source and kept me propped up throughout the day. But my cardiovascular fitness is nothing compared to these Satyrs and especially Toomas.

I collapse by the river bank, sweat still drenching every skin cell, breathing hard trying to desperately suck air down my throat. Finally, the run is over and my torturer has allowed some respite, leaving me with a threat of tomorrow and another deep booming laugh that I now associate with a joyful Satyr friend and burning lungs. I munch a handful of water leaves, soothing my stomach acid burnt throat and hydrating my unathletic body. Still lying on the ground, I shed my clothes in a heap and roll sideways into the cool waters getting a few laughs from other bathing Satyrs, Piia and Yadon included. They swim over as I surface.

“Did you see the towers of Omnia then?” Yadon asks.

“I saw every shade of green in a vortex whizzing by my eyes as that machine pushed me through the forest.” As I began to lag, Toomas had fallen back and ‘encouraged’ me to keep going.

“What does machine mean?” Piia questions.

“It’s a type of crafted device that has a specific purpose and never stops. Toomas’s purpose is to cause suffering and cramps.” I massage my aching legs in the chilly waters, the temperature will hopefully relieve swelling and improve my recovery time.

“In a strange sadistic way, I enjoyed it. To run without fear and enjoy the world around me. It feels good to exercise and work towards a goal.” Yadon and Piia were nodding with approval.

“We Satyrs feel the same way, fighting to defend Mother’s lands was always our priority. But many generations ago our warriors were fine veterans and even hired to serve in Man’s wars in the Tainted lands. It brought our people much deserved respect and coin.” Yadon proudly stated.

“So people do trade in coin, I knew it. Muking Livingston.”

“Who is Livingston?” He asks.

“Just an obnoxious arse. You said ‘Tainted lands’. What and where are they?”

“Far away beyond the human cities and their great walls. It is where war is raged, lifeblood is spilt and the mind is warped.” Piia explains.

“Warped how?”

“The stories of those times are old now, but always harrowing and terrifying. When our warriors returned home they were different, things were off about them. Everyone assumed it was from their time in the Tainted lands’. It is why when people leave we consider them tainted.” Piia continues.

Sounds like posttraumatic stress disorder, I imagine wars thought with swords and magic have their particular flavour of carnage and mayhem.

“All of our age strive to return our tribe to its former prime, even with our elders gone and certain Voices opposing otherwise.” Yadon hints but indicates other groups of Satyrs bathing. He’s wary of speaking his mind about their leader in public.

“One day, my friend. We will get there. I should get some rest before tomorrow. Everyone is welcome to join our fun run in the morning.” They both laugh and decline my offer, Yadon suddenly serious.

“I will be guarding root pickers during tomorrow’s sun. Whispers through the tippees speak of a monster on our borders.” Yadon says with concern.

“What is it?” My imagination sees a thousand horrors that could all exist in the world.

“We have only seen tracks and heard its powerful roar. Whatever the beast, it leaves a path of destruction in its wake. If you see anything during your training then let me know, or even the Thorns.”

“I will.”

“Do not fret Seth, you need to sleep well, Mother knows you need it.” Piia winks as I crawl up the bank, Cane loping out to join my naked stroll back to our tippee. The Satyr tribe were collectively in varying states of undress, generally leaning towards the nude side of the spectrum. I want to fit in and enjoy the lack of judgement that went with it. Yadon’s words of this roaming creature had unsettled me, however the village’s relaxed vibe and warm night air soon return me to the illusion of safety, herd animals understand. I am soon dry and crawling into my bedroll of fur, the day leaving me spent. I smile to myself in the darkness and say a little prayer.

Dear Mother,

All beloved Goddess of Silva, nature, green bears, emerald auras and verde fairy lights. Please make Toomas see my feeble millennial body for what it is, a soft dough that requires gently kneading into shape rather than dense clay that must be smashed and thrown around first before it can be worked. And if I chunder my breakfast, lunch or dinner, can he take that as a sign of ‘Seth needs a timeout’ and not ‘Oh you are lighter now Shepherd Seth, you should be able to run faster now’.

That is all, thank you Mother.

Deep in the heavy blankets of slumber, a roar tickles my consciousness. Distant and disturbing, the feeling of pain and suffering echoing in the vibrations.