Year 1 - A Child with Red Eyes - James Lancaster

The White Mountains had long since moved back to the sunless wilds beyond the grasslands. The air was thick with bird calls and wolf-howls. Clouds lazily rolled past the sun that peered slowly above the mountains under a red sky. The time had come to hunt.

The wise women danced and sang the war howl out across the plains, the men beat the skin-drums as the children shook under the spirit’s power. The Great Mother, speaker of the spirit-tongue, called the forces down from the trees and rocks to the great plain. She called out for her revenge.

It was me they had chosen, a child with Red Eyes to see the future. The wise-women passed around the paint and marked me with red and white stripes. They said the spirits would know me as their 

own, to please them and bring the vision forth, I must go to the den of the Sabre Cat, and bring back their skin to please the spirits.

They gave me a moment alone to prepare, I wrapped the Mammoth totem around my Spear, worn by my father and my father’s father. Said a quiet prayer for mother, and stepped out into the light, the day of prophecy had come.

Wind blew down from the mountains, and whistled across grey crags, they’d chosen their home well. No man would dare enter here.

Bones littered the floor, mice ran in-between the eyes of fallen elk and rhino. I could not see nor hear them, but I knew they were there, we both knew. They knew that I had come alone.

She leapt onto the high rock, blood dripped from long teeth, fresh from the throat of her kill. I turned to face her as she pounced, her paws gripped my spear as I threw her off against the rocks. She did not cry out, she didn’t break her stare or sheath her claws. Her yellow eyes just looked. I sneered and stared back, my spear pointed between her eyes as she circled me. A low roar echoing off the walls of the gorge, she’s not taking any chances. The pride hunts at dawn, only one remains to protects the cubs. There’s no time to waste taking her down.

I made the first strike and feigned a spear thrust as she advanced her claws slashed and hit air as I weaved out of their path. I wedged the spear head underneath her paw and took her leg from under her. Prepared, she snaps the spear as she rolls over. I took out my bone knife and sliced her ear. Even she can’t stifle a cry. She pinned me to ground and bared her massive teeth, I drove the knife into her paw and push her off. Crippled she stumbled to her feet, at my mercy, I prepared to make the kill.

Suddenly, something crashed off the back of my head, my feet slip out from under me. The Cat takes her time to get to her feet, she doesn’t waste a second as her claws pin my head down. I tried to use the knife, I slashed thin air as she aims those Teeth for my neck. I brace for the end, and I see what hit me and put me down. I have no fear of death but,my heart dropped and the knife rolled out of my hands. It was a Cub, a cub with Red eyes.