Seeing as I've been quite lax over the weekend with NaShoStoMo posts... here's the first one for today - just in time for morning tea (if you are in S.A., that is...). Today's first piece is loosely based on some Khoikhoi mythology.
Day 11 – April 11 – Part 1 – He Who Throws Down
“You dare ask why the people here have no use of your weapons? Go east; go over the sand for two days until you reach a great chasm in the earth. The air there is thick and warm; heated from below in great caverns. There he sits, the one called He Who Throws Down. Face him and tell me that those weapons you carry harm him at all. Go now, but do not expect that you will return.” The old man held the other’s gaze until it faltered. Rivulets of sweat made their way from his brow and neck, but that may just have been because of the heat here.
The man shifted his gun from the crook of one arm to the other.
“There is nothing this black powder cannot undo. I will face this Thrower if you wish me to. I will return with his head and claim the Killer’s Inheritance.”
The old man laughed. “Yes, yes, they always say that. In my young days many men also said that.” He paused for a moment. “You must bring proof you were there even if you don’t bring his head.” The old man’s voice took on a strange tone.
“Proof? What do you want me to bring? A bag filled with sand?”
“Look for a string of red glass beads. They are old and strung on a string of pure gold. Bring it to me and I will know that you were at his lair.”
“I will bring the creature’s head,” the hunter grinned.
And so Ewald walked across the burning sand for two days and saw nothing but sand and rocks and a few snakes burrowing into the soil, seeking comfort from the sun. Soon his legs and arms grew tired and he wished for more water than he had. On the second day he reached the great chasm; a rent in the earth that came upon the unwary traveler and would swallow him if he did not keep his eyes on the ground. Nothing but sand was near it, but he could see many white human skulls and bones at the bottom. Some of the skulls were broken. On one of these bones he saw the red beads and he climbed stealthily downwards to retrieve it. The stones and gold would also reap a good price. He reached the top again and looked into the face of one of the most horrible creatures he had seen in all of his life. It was large and bloated with black markings like that of a leopard upon his skin. His face seemed more animal than human, as did the claws he dug into the sand. His bulging red eyes were like that of a reptile. A scraggly mane hung in clumps around his neck. The monster sat parched and scorched in the sun next to the great hole and laughed when he saw the man. His voice rebounded between his ragged teeth and the great black hills in the distance.
“Have you come to kill me?” he asked in a hissing, growling voice.
“I…I have,” Ewald said, taken aback that the nightmarish creature spoke to him. He remembered the unwavering and unbelieving gaze of the old man and pointed his gun at the Thrower. The creature showed even more ragged teeth as Ewald pointed and pulled the trigger.
The bullet ricochet from the creature’s baked skin and struck Ewald on his arm, leaving a deep gash.
The creature laughed. “No mortal can kill me! No metal can pierce me, no sun can kill me!” he said. “Come, come, and aim again! Take a rock and see if you fare better with it! See if you can win the inheritance!” He took up a rock that fit into his palm and, as he did so, looked down into the hole and realized how so many human bones came to be there and he grew frightened. He let the stone fall and retreated, making sure to keep his face to the creature until he could see him no more.
Ewald bound his arm as good as he could with cloth torn from his shirt and hastened back through night and day to the old man. Reaching him, he showed him the red beads that he took from the bones. The man took them and placed them upon the table in front of him before giving the man some water.
“You have not brought his head,” he said and Ewald shook his head. “I could not.”
The old man smiled again. “No one will ever kill that monster, though they will try. But it does not matter, for now I am unbound,” he said and stood. He took the beads and slipped them into his pocket. “You won’t have use of money for a long time. Maybe someone else will be kind enough to bring you your own string of beads.” Ewald tried to follow him, but could not get further than ten steps from the shack’s door.
Twenty years later Ewald welcomed a young man into the shack. It did not take long for the young man to speak. Ewald touched the beard grown over many years. Then he spoke: “You dare ask why the people here have no use of your weapons? Go east, go over the sand until two days pass and you reach a great hole. The air there is thick and warm, heated from below in great caverns. There he sits, the one we call He Who Throws Down. Face him and tell me that those weapons you carry harm him at all. Go now, but do not expect that you will return. “Look for a string of red glass beads. They are old and strung on a string of pure gold. Bring it to me and I will know that you were at his lair.”
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