The spoked star once again cast its dim glow on the Wilds as time slowly ticked onwards. An hour passed like a voice in the wind.
At Outpost One inside the tower several figures were all seated around a chipped table. On the table was a map of the surrounding area.
Taking up the entire western border was a small section of the Silent forest. At the westmost point before the page border was an X that marked Outpost One.
Moving Eastward from Outpost One were a number of other outposts scattered at varying depths and distances in the silent forest. At the center most section of the map was a rough sketch of the Fire Garden and North West of the Garden was Outpost Sixteen.
Time ticked away but Mylo did not show.
Juraman was seated at the head of the table once again, staring out into the distance. His expression was solemn and he ran his fingers through his thick matted beard. "Mylo is not back?"
Juraman wasn't expecting an answer as it was obvious that if he was here he would be present at this meeting. He was trying to gauge reactions.
Juraman looked around at the seven people standing in the room. 'Someone is trying to Summon a Duppy and Mylo was supposed to bring back evidence. If he's not back that means he is dead or found what he was looking for. '
They all seemed much more interested in other things than the disappearance of a fellow firekeeper. All except one.
" Jenna." Juraman called out.
Jenna, who had her head bowed and brows furrowed, looked up towards Juraman. 'Hmm?'
Her mind seemed a bit distant.
Juraman could tell that she was worried and decided to take the high road. ' Hope must never burn out.'
" If he's not back, it's probably more important than the meeting. Let's wait for his return."
Jenna realizing she was visibly worried relaxed her shoulders and her features regained a touch of nonchalance. However, nobody paid her any attention from start to finish. They only seemed to acknowledge Juraman when addressed.
" It reeks of death. The concentration of post-humus karma is reaching a critical point. A duppy will almost certainly appear" Juraman spoke with a deep somber. Once again surveying the room around him. Each were senior firekeepers or individuals with enough potential to warrant an eventual promotion to senior firekeeper.
' When I first took over there were twenty. Now I'm down to a lucky seven that's not counting the regular firekeepers who are dead. Thirteen karma masters who were at Rank two dead. Fuck me…But I have to do something about this lingering karma if not a Duppy will appear. I can't deal with that right now. '
Ziggy pointed to a young woman. " Zaara, can your karmic ability do anything about it?"
Zaara was a skinny young lady. Her features were sharp and angular. Her black eyes seemed to hold nothing but apathy for everything around her. She looked towards Juraman and scratched her cleavage under the loose fitting firekeepers uniform.
" I can use Pot of Greed to absorb some of the post-humus karma surrounding the outpost but I can't guarantee it will do much. "
" That's enough. Start now. Someone will fill you in when you return."
" Yes sir." Zaara left the room under the watchful gaze of everyone. Her gait seemed to gain an unnatural life as she stepped out. As Zaara walked past Juraman he grabbed her wrist.
Zaara was startled. She looked at Juraman's hand which wrapped around her entire forearm like it was a chicken leg.
'His skin is hot.' She thought to herself looking into his steely blue eyes.
" Do not summon anything out of that pot after you're done. Do you hear me?"
Zaara frowned. 'Sigh, but with this much Karma I could win big…'
Seeing that Juraman would not let this one go she nodded her head. "Yes Mr Juraman."
Zaara walked out of the room with a smile creeping on the edges of her lips.
Juraman did not strain his neck but turned his attention back around to those who remained.
"It's been a week since Farod's arrival with fresh bodies and supplies, how are we on food?"
" I can answer that one Mr Juraman." A young man with a smug expression spoke up.
Juraman regarded him with a foul taste on his tongue. 'Tamsun.'
" Go ahead, Tamsun."
Tamsun, seeing that it was now his stage, declared boldly. " Thanks to the reinforcements of Mr Farod and Miss Dixy we were able to fortify the base and create a stable perimeter to guard the Outpost which has held up brilliantly over the past few days. Dismantling the carriages was a stroke of genius and whoever did it should be thanked appropriately."
A bald young man who was seated in prayer paused and spoke, interrupting Tamsun. " It was you."
Tamsun, not expecting to be called out, paused as his eyes twitched and everyone observed him curiously like staring at a clown who was doing their best to entertain a crowd.
Tamsun stuttered to himself. 'Well- yes I was the one who suggested it but we all played a role in its implementation. -"
Juraman grumbled. "Get to the part where you talk about food."
Tamsun quickly regained his composure and started. " Before Farod arrived we had only one day's food left. Three if we rationed even more than we already have. But now we have food to last for an entire month!"
Juraman scratched his beard. "A month huh?"
Juraman surveyed the room and found most people had an amused expression. His eyes lingered on an older man who was smiling watching Tamsun speak. His eyes were wide and a faint smile traced the contours of his weathered features.
Noticing Juraman's gaze the old man turned and gave a polite smile. "He is right Mr Juraman." He Looking at this old man Juraman could feel memories of the past reappearing in his mind.
Fifty years ago...
He walked out of that forest to see two faces.
He was smaller, still over six feet but his frame was not as large and his body was not covered in markings. His hair was trimmed low and his bead was short and well maintained. In his hands was a young baby and the bloody jawbone of a Wendigo.
James could see the image of this older gentleman superimposed on the figure in his memories.
This old man who was acting in command after the previous farm owner left. His face was no longer the stoic middle aged man, his features were now wrinkled and covered in divots. His hair was no longer golden, it was now a sparse grey. However his brown eyes never lost their sharpness. At his side was a longsword.
Yomi never had the potential to advance to a rank 2 karma master so he aged as normal people do. Juraman occasionally pondered the limits of his lifespan. He knew he was too young and lacking in everything that a proper farm owner should have. At the last summit he saw what real farm owners looked like.
Their figures although smaller than him dwarfed his presence by a vast margin.
Today, Juraman never felt younger or stronger than he did in this moment and he would probably feel the same tomorrow.
Even now as he increased his rank he still could not overcome the psychological pressure that their karmic weight put on his body.
Juraman glanced at his karma lake. Red rain fell endlessly putting the lake in a constant state of overflow. The environment surrounding his karma lake looked as if it was in a state of torrential rainfall and the walls were constantly being eroded. If given enough time he would slowly advance in rank without much effort on his part.
Juraman nodded towards the most senior firekeeper in the room and asked. " I've started to get a bad feeling. It started a week ago and has only grown stronger since. But there is nothing wrong here at the outpost. So where could it be? Do you have any ideas of where my fears reside, Yomi? '
For everyone else, it looked as though Yomi had stopped breathing for a second before snapping back to life slowly moving his lips to respond. However, none of them rushed him or showed any lack of patience. Even someone like Tamsun waited patiently for Yomi to begin speaking.
Yomi's voice was soft but that presented no problems to anyone present. " When a lion is cornered it does not fear the hunter with its bow poised at his neck but the cackling hyenas that surround them both."
The silence in the room lingered as everyone present tried to process what he could mean. Yomi did not seem to be in a rush to elaborate or continue as he pointed towards the opening of the tower.
In the distance under the setting moon was the vague silhouette of the Garden beyond the forest. However something was missing. Everyone frowned wondering what was different about the sight that they had seen over the past few days.