Thanks for all the great comments my homies...it really makes writing this story worthwhile.
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Chapter Two: Yurich
That night I had a dream about…the night.
The night that changed it all.
The night of the invasion.
It was late at night; or early in the morning, whichever you prefer. About 2 or 3:00, I’d say. We were all fast asleep in our huts, with stomachs stuffed from the feast earlier that night celebrating the anniversary of the savior Abe’s escape.
The sky was dimly lit orange, the sun barely peeking from the snowcapped mountains.
It had barely started raining.
I heard the faint sound of propellers.
Then came the grunting and yelling of obscenities.
Closer and closer.
Louder and louder.
About 50-something flying sligs burst from the hills, coming every which way, dropping grenades on every hut in sight. The village erupt in terror instantly.
Several sligs started chasing down a mudokon child. Its face was purple from screaming, crying and hyperventilating all at the same time. It tripped on a rock wedged into the mud and fell.
One slig flew down, picked him up and flew back to his friends.
He threw the child up in the air and made sure it fell into his razor-sharp propellers, ripping and decimating the child's flesh to shreds.
There was screaming and crying coming from every direction, I panicked as what to do.
Almost all of the humble huts and looming trees had caught fire.
The thick mud in the ground was turning dark maroon, mixing with the masses of blood.
As I ran to the Sanctum, I heard a moaning coming from behind a bush. I rushed over to see if there was a mudokon injured, as I had been trained in medicine by Shantu.
It was a slig.
It appeared as if his helicopter had crashed, malfunctioned in a way. Pieces of shrapnel were embedded into his skin. His left arm had been torn from his body somehow, and it was nowhere to be seen. He had one of his propellers stuck into his chest, and his tentacles were dripping with blood.
“Please…please help…”
I staggered back, feeling nauseous.
“I…I’m not one of them…”
In a rush of adrenaline and fear, I picked up the dying slig and stumbled into my hut. My hut had not been bombed, since it was not in junction with the village. It stood on the higher cliff.
I lay him on the table and brought out some herbal medicines.
I grasped my hands around the propeller that had impaled him and tugged it out. With it came the sound of thick, ripping flesh and a scream from his bloody tentacles.
“It’s ok…it’s out now…”
I bandaged up where his arm used to be and picked the shrapnel out of his slimy flesh.
By the time I was done he was barely conscious…the pain had done a lot to him. Feeling quite sympathetic, I began the healing chant.
“Euo…Euo Euo…Euo Euo Euo…”
He jolted and quivered several times, but then in an instant sighed and relaxed.
“What is your name?” I asked him.
“Y…Yur…” he struggled to speak. He grabbed my primitive knife and dug into the wooden table.
He carved into the table the word Yurich.
Yurich the slig.
He then collapsed and, as far as I could tell, fell asleep.
When it came morning I took him out to the river and bathed the dried, crusty blood off his shivering, slimy body.
“I…just have to say…thank you, mud.”
My eyes darted around nervously. “Aw…nah, it was nothing…”
“I have now seen mudokons in a new light…gone are the days of beating you guys to a pulp on my break.”
“Uh…thanks?”
“Yeah.”
“But looks like my career as a grenadier is over…it’d be near impossible to operate the damn copter with one fucking arm. Looks like back to ground patrol for me.”
“Uh…yeah…”
“Well, see ya…uh…”
“Finn.”
“See ya, Finn. By the way, nice ponytail you got there.” He pointed to my abnormal purple and green striped ponytail.
“Uh…yeah. Thanks. See ya…um…”
“Yurich, remember? Just think of it as 'You’re Rich'.” He giggled at his play on words.
“Uh...'You’re Rich'. Got it. See ya, Yurich.”
“See ya, kid.”
He crawled off in the direction of the mountains as best he could, lacking an arm.
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I woke up in an instant, with Garik’s pale green face smiling back at me.
“C’mon, buddy! It’s the anniversary of Abe’s escape! Let’s head down to the feast, we’re already late!”
Good odd.
It had already been a year since my encounter with Yurich.
I groaned, feeling nauseous and threw up at Garik’s feet.
“It’s already been a fucking year.”
“I know, buddy…it must hurt. But everyone’s probably forgotten about it.”
I chuckled. “Thanks, Garik.”
“C’mon, let’s get going. Just don’t think about it much.”
I chuckled once again.
“Thanks, Garik.”
As I got up and walked towards the door, I saw the carving still in the table.
Yurich.
I growled and kicked the leg of the table.
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