He was their hero, he was the greatest warrior of their tribe, he was their last hope. He was thought unbeatable, yet he had been. Zalazane towered over him, eyes flaring wildly, muttering words in an ancient tongue, black flames erupting on his palms.
Coljun witnessed the entire battle from high up in a tree, gripping his bow tightly in his hand. He saw his brothers axe being deflected by a protective spell. He saw his brother grow more desperate as he was being pushed around by unseen forces. He also saw that Zalazane had let down his guard and with it his protective spell as he was summoning the powers for the finishing spell, this be the time to strike, Coljun thought but he did not act. Not because he was afraid, Coljun never was afraid. He did not do anything because of hatred, hatred towards his brother.
His brother had never respected his talents with the bow nor had he respected his closeness to animals. To his brother only strength mattered and now that which he had disregarded the most proved to be his undoing. Coljun was not proud of his actions, or rather the lack of them, but he did not feel any regret.
Someone pulled his hand, first weak then harder, Coljun struggled to keep his balance on the branch, then something bit in his finger and with a gasp he woke up. It had been Karan who had bitten him. “you be right” Coljun said to his owl, “Me’ve been dwelling in the past for too long already”. Putting the campfire out he looked to the horizon, to the future. A future with new brothers, brothers who respected him. A future where he wouldn’t just stand-by, now he would act.
And with the bright eyes of a cheetah he started running down the mountain, to his future.
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