The purple shard
-- The purple shard --
The faster he ran the more the burning behind his eyes subsided and slowly he began to feel at peace again. What had just happened? What had just he done? Stopping for a moment to catch his breath, he looked over his shoulder to see a the sky stained with smoke and the silhouette of houses lit strikingly in red. The scene was hypnotic and Makucha watched, hypnotized, as the flames and shadows danced and he listened to the screams and taunts of angry villagers. Then the wind shifted and he picked up a scent. He was still being pursued!
Driven by instinct the spectral wolf took off at high speed through the trees with an angry mob in tow. Ducking and weaving between the branches and trunks of this ancient forest he managed to loose most of them. For a moment, his mind drifted back to that night in the cave as a young troll... The sacrifice, the blood, the flames. Was that where is all started? Is this what made him to these terrible things?
While there were only a few following him now, the intensity of their gibberish yapping increased. How were they gaining on him? Makucha decided that it was time to fight. Slowing to a brisk walk he took on humanoid form and turned to face his attackers.
Summoning the power of the four elements he placed totems at his feet confident that the power that bound the world together would help him with his fight. These dishonourable creatures would pay forhunting him! After all he had done nothing wrong. He was sure he had done nothing wrong...
Then the first one came at him with an aggressive posture, the lone Shaman raised a massive two handed axe and knocked the sword from the human's hand. His attacker took out a knife and plunged it into his knee. Hit by a white flash of rage Makucha doused this creature in elemental fire and readied his axe.With a powerful swing this young troll tore a gash across the pink skin's stomach and watched as his insides poured onto the ground. Strangely satisfied by this kill the troll cackled. He could feel a darkness within him that was urging him to slay them all.
One by one Makucha murdered each of these humans in the most horrible fashion... Not satisfied with simply beheading them he sliced them with surgical precision. He wanted to watch them bleed, he wanted to watch them burn. Any that tried to get away he shocked with ice, any time that tried to overpower him with sheer numbers he launched a volley of lightning that stopped them in their tracks. The more Makucha killed the more the darkness inside him tightened its grip on his body. He felt overwhelmed the hate and range inside him as he stood surrounded by torn, burned flesh. The destruction of his pursuers was absolute and he felt full of power. Suddenly the memory of that night became clear...
He was on a cold stone altar in a damp cave that he had been visiting for years to perform meditations but this time it was different. He realized that he was not alone and he could hear hushed voices. Opening his eyes to take a look, he could see four human warlocks. Unable to understand what he was saying he called out to anyone who might hear him but he knew it was in vain. He came to this cave because it was secluded, because no one could find him. Makucha was very much on his own at the mercy of these dark sorcerers.
He wondered what they wanted... He was a Shaman, master of the elements of Earth, Wind, Water and Fire - the forces that bound all living things together and it was his duty to respect them. These pink skins, as far as he knew squandered their time worshipping myths and legends and terrified people using smoke and mirror conjurer's tricks... or so he'd thought until he came eye to eye with a summoned demon. The stench of the monster, and its physical presence were impossible to deny! Makucha's head spun as he tried to comprehend this unnatural magic. Then it began...
The warlocks chanted and the beast became agitated. Makucha watched in horror at they brought in troll and orcs from his village and let the demon take hold of them. In a jumbled mess of fire and blood the demon tore them to pieces. The Shaman tried to shut it out but couldn't all he could see was the fire. Then the warlock's hold over this monster became weak and it ran at them. With shadowy energy they brought it to its knees and as it expired they captured it's essence in a small shard. This shard was then put on a chain around Makucha's neck. Immediately he felt the presence of a demon fighting with his soul and started to resist but it overcame him and he blacked out.
When Makucha came to his senses once again in the forest he couldn't help but think back to that night he went to the cave and all those other days when he woke with no memory of his actions. It was always the same. He would wake up to the smell of burning flesh and look around to see complete destruction in his wake. This time was no different. He had fought to defend his people so many times so death was not alien to him but there was one thing that always got him about these encounters, one thing that always chilled him to the bone... He looked down at his clothes to see them doused in blood. From head to toe he was stained red. He shuddered and shuffled over to a tree with his head hung low and collapsed against it weeping violently. Over and over he rocked back and he absent mindedly held the purple shard that was on a chain around his neck - It always made him feel safe.