The Shepherd by Jack A. Ling (the reading strategies book TXT) 📕

Chapter 4
The First Star

The night sky was singed with the touch of sunset, creating that beautifully horrid look over the lands. The green grass turned gray. The once small shadows were inflamed to mass sizes. The great road seemed so much greater that night.
The trees bristled, the single noise that echoed throughout the forest – An almost soothing bristle of leaves and dirt; relaxing and hushed. A single bit of good in that forest of evil then and to come. Just through the peaceful sound, another sound arose with the sharpness and the glare in the eyes of those individuals who made it. Black cloth covered all of them but their eyeglasses. The glasses sported a symbol on their left side which resembled a star engulfed in a burning flame. Although the glasses were as dark as the night which clothed them, their eyes burnt through the glass with a burning passion unlike anything else. While marching through the brush, they whispered to each other words unknown.
"Doest they know that we approach, my liege?" the shortest of the group called to the one who took the appearance of a leader.
"Of course not! Thou obviously know not who you speak with, scribe!" he responded with a growl.
"The sky lightens with the wings of the heavens, leige! Shall they surely see us?"
"What did I just say? Why are you here, boy?"
"I am the new scribe. Why shall I not be here?"
"Do you know what a scribe is?"
"The sele --"
"Bid thy tongue! It is an excuse for a worm to become a person!"
"But where would we be without the scribes?"
"I see your dull point. Remember that you have been given a gift; don't waste it."
"What gift doth thou speak of? This is no gift!"
"Look at them," he pointed to the rest of the men who had built a camp for the night and were sitting around a fire. "What do you see?"
"Men sitting."
"Look at what they will be; not what they are!"
"What do you mean?"
"Are cattle who are walking into the slaughter alive?" the tall asked with a smirk.
"Neither, I'd assume."
"How are these men different?"
"They aren't walking into a slaughter."
"How aren't they? Will they not be killed?" he laughed with an evil smirk.
"Won't we all?" the shorter laughed.
"Of course not! Why would the base be killed?"
"The base?"
"The leaders of our group!"
"So you and the others can't die then?"
"As of now we can. But what of when we cannot?" the taller wondered aloud.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that we are part of an evil cycle. Birth, life, and death or judgement. But what if I don't want to die?"
"Impossible. Everybody must die!"
"Why? Why can't I live to say happy birthday to my one-thousandth kinsman?"
"It's unnatural!" the short screamed.
"What makes it natural or unnatural?"
"Okay, fine. But what are you going to do about it?"
"See that?" he lifted his finger to the temple which stood a hundred feet tall within a mile of them.
"A temple."
"A temple of David!" he corrected.
"And?"
"Let me read you a passage," he said as he flipped through the pages of a large book covered in red cloth and silver metal. "Once the stars of he named David are swallowed in the fire of the blood-mourn, he who consumes stars and shakes heavens shall return to the world of the living and worshiping."
"Explain what that means!" the smaller man asked, confused.
"The six must burn!"
"The six?"
"The temples of David!" the larger man yelled, getting irritated.
"But there are hundreds and hundreds of them!"
"That's why we are going to this one!"
"Why this one?"
"There is something inside that will help us."
"What is it?"
"That's for a later time! Now follow me," he explained as he began a journey into the larger brush in front of the temple.
The dead leaves on the ground began to form indentions which cut and split these old plants to individual shards of death. As the shards separated and flattened, their shadows morphed into shapes which could not be imitated. These shadows expanded from a small mark on the forest floor to a large, frightening image. Almost like bubbles on boiling soup, the shadows constantly changed and differed. Just above these crushed leaves, the larger and smaller men were jogging with an awkward pace that was both quick and bulky. Even as they came extremely close to running into forestry, the larger man constantly looked around and changed his course of movement.
"Through here we shall find the thing that shall bring them all back!" the larger one howled and laughed.
"Do I want to know who "them" is?" the smaller man asked nervously.
"Don't ask questions! Here, through that hallway!" he screamed as he jetted down an old tunnel inside of the stone temple. The top of the hallway was tangled in vines which looked like spider webs, but these did not stop the tall man; he ran and ran with the shorter one tracking slowly behind him. The smaller ran so slow under the web-like vines that it was as though he were running atop a spider web.
"How much longer?" the small one yelled. "It can't possibly be that far!"
"Just around the upcoming corner!" the larger yelled back as they turned the corner and came into contact with a giant, red and black door.
"What in the hell is that?"
"The door to my future!"
"Our future," he snapped.
"Of course! Now hold this," he laughed as he handed a small knife to the other.
"What is this?" he wondered aloud as he noticed the carvings in the blade which had a glowing essence illuminating from it.
"Be quiet! Help me move this thing!" he growled as he gripped a large stone circle and attempted to push it.
"So why are we here, again?"
"We need what's under this rock. I'll explain once we --" the large man was interrupted by his triumph in moving the bolder. "Beautiful."
"Oh my goodness," he said as they both stared in complete awe for several moments.
"Knife please," the larger man said, still looking at what was before them.
"Here," he delivered the blade. "But what is that?"
"The Elders call it a myth. The Ancients called it the necrograph."
"Necrograph?"
"Ancient talk for map of evil."
"Why evil?"
"They said it has resulted in mass death and disaster everytime it's used."
"How would that happen?"
"They used impure blood," he chuckled.
"Blood?" he gulped.
"Of course," the bigger took the blade and violently slid it across his left hand, blood dripping to the ground.
"What in the hell are you doing?" he screamed.
"We need pure blood!"
"And why is yours 'pure'?"
"I am blood-mourn! Do you not see it?"
"I don't know what you speak of!"
"I'll explain soon enough. Just know of what I am and who I am!" he yelled as he gripped his own hand and blood dripped as though a fountain into a small hole on the necrograph. The ground beneath them began to rumble with no end. The pillars on the walls crumbled to dust and mixed with the air. The webbed vines lit on fire and disappeared.
The outside forestry was dead silent. Dead silent except for the faint laughing that sounded like a howl.

Publication Date: 04-28-2012

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