Chapter 3: Oark's Revelation

Hall of the Immortals

Chapter 3: Oark's Revelation

Oark waited for the rest of the tribe to rest for the night before tracking his old tribe back through the forest. It took him only a few hours to find where they'd been camping and seeing the sleeping figures angered him. Instead of acting on this anger he walked down to the creek and drank heartily from it and sat and listened to the tranquil sounds of the moving water in the night. He let his mind empty as he leaned against a tree by the waterside. Dipping his fingers into the gently moving waters he noticed his reflection in the moonlight. He noticed that he looked more relaxed than he had ever felt before though he was unsure of the exact reason why. It could have been he felt that way for having killed Awwt's murderer or it could have been the relief of his expansive mentality. Regardless of the root of the reason he felt happier despite the confrontation that he had planned for the dawn.

As dawn broke in the early hours in the morning Oark made his way from the calm stream and into the tribes camp. The tribe was just stirring from their sleep and as they saw him approaching the tribesmen rushed forward to stop him.

"Oark leave!" The tribesmen bellowed at him, "Oark no stay." Shaking his head at them and speaking with a solemn voice,

"No. I will not." His thoughts started pouring from his mouth and for the first time he felt the clarity of his mind exhibit in his speech, "You will follow Oark or Oark will kill you." The elders angrily grunted in hearing him say this. They started spitting towards him but he did not relinquish his resolve. Oark looked into the eyes of the tribesmen and saw the fear that ate them alive over the constant need to survive and he felt his own eyes soften. Then a sound cutting through the air whistling towards him made him turn his head just as it made contact. It happened so fast he couldn't react but instantaneously he felt as though he was on fire. Looking down he saw a spear penetrating his side and embedded into the ground at his feet. The spear passed cleanly through him but he was now pinned. Looking up at the tribe he started coughing and sputtering blood. Whistling through the air a second spear sunk through his chest. The oldest of the elders, Ukk, walked forward carrying his own spear.

"Oark die now." As Ukk spoke he sunk his spear into Oark's stomach. Oark coughed blood as he started choking on it pooling in his throat. He tried to talk but nothing could be heard over the gurgling as he struggled to breath. Within mere moments he felt the life leave his body as he felt himself die. His body hung limp against the spears and the tribe came and spat on his lifeless body. As Ukk came back to spit on Oark's body again he kicked him to the ground roughly. The spear penetrating his chest fell out and as it did Oark felt his mind stir and his eyes felt like light at the end of a long tunnel. As his eyes opened he roared and tore the spear from his side. The tribesmen and tribeswomen screamed as Oark came violently back to life. Ukk turned to leave but Oark caught him.

"Oark say follow me or die," Oark said as he stabbed Ukk in the same place that the elder had stabbed him at, "Follow me or you die!" Oark stood holding his side where he'd pulled the spear out of him. To his surprise he could feel the broken flesh growing back together and healing. Not instantaneously but it was extremely rapid. He stood erect and stepped over Ukk's body toward the others. Several of the tribeswomen moved forward and stood behind Oark. Seeing them side with Oark infuriated the elders and they bellowed protests. Oark grabbed the closest one to him and in one deft movement snapped the elders neck.

"Follow me or die." The dark words resonated in the camp. The entire tribe with heads hung low walked and stood beside Oark. Oark turned to start leading the old tribe towards the new tribe and as they walked his mind drifted quickly to him dying. Twice he had died but the first time he wasn't convinced that is what happened. When he fought with the pumas he had died in a pool of his own blood. It also hadn't escaped his attention that the burns he'd received trying to move the log off of Awwt. The glowing waters had let him live and had healed his wounds and scars. Then his thoughts drifted to his motivations as he merged the two tribes together. He wanted to help the tribesmen but they would need to follow his lead even if the things he would show them were dangerous and scary to them.

Upon merging the two tribes Oark discovered that the apprehension of the tribesmen were outweighed by the relief of the tribeswomen. The tribeswomen on both sides would ensure that this was a smoother transition. Oark gathered the younger tribesmen and sent them out in all directions to scout for signs of other tribes. Then with his business settled for the day he retreated back to his place by the creek. Everything had been so rushed for so long he just wanted to settle in and rest. Dipping his fingers into the gentle flowing waters and listened to the soft breeze pass through the leaves. Awwt's sister Hah came to him while he rested there. Hah looked similar to Awwt but with the thinner face and darker hair. The hair on her eyebrows was thicker and she had a thinner amount of hair on her arms. She was pretty for a tribeswomen but Oark was irked by the disturbance of his solitude. Hah reached out to him grabbing his shoulders and then felt his side where the spear had pierced him. Oark adjusted his arms to allow her a better look and she saw no wounds. Her curiosity amused him. They spoke briefly about his wounds and he told her they did not hurt. Dismissing her despite her forward behavior Oark moved further down the creek to his small stash of the glowing waters. He drank the last of it and felt the final bits of clarity reach the boundaries of his mind. That night he built a large bonfire to warm all the tribe and despite the fears of the tribesmen of the fire they all slept close for the warmth.

Dawn broke and Oark awoke to find Hah sleeping on his side. She was Awwt's younger sister and had never bonded as far as Oark was aware. He could feel her fears and confusion of the world around her. As with all the tribesmen they all lived with constant fear and he wanted to help them see the world without the persistent threats of the world. Moving away from Hah he rose to watch the dawn break the day and let his mind wander on to other thoughts and places. He was out of the glowing water but he also knew he'd be unable to go and get more when his tribe now depended on him. They would not be able to follow him into the land of fire beyond the mountains and for better or worse he'd already decided to hoard the glowing water for him and him alone.

In the hours that followed that morning two of the young scouts returned and told Oark of signs of tribes moving through the area but that neither could track them further. After sending them in different directions he started making plans for what to do with the people following him. He had an idea of better shelters but he had concerns about how to provide food. Remembering where he'd killed the young pumas in the pass between the mountains he started to make plans for the future of the tribesmen. The area was rich in food, wood, and it was close enough to the glowing water he could sneak there on his own. After all the scouts returned, one of which bringing back an entire tribe, Oark led all of the tribesmen in the largest tribe in existence towards the mountain pass. Towards their future.

In the years that followed Oark watched his settlement flourish, first into a village and then into a sizable town. It was arguably the only such place that existed in the world where many tribes came together and stayed in one place. The shelters they had built were permanent structures to better protect from the fury of nature. The hardships had been severe the first few years but Oark helped the tribesmen learn to adapt and survive. Unlike the generations of Oark's youth these tribesmen now embraced fire and learned not to fear it. This aided a great deal in the tribesmen surviving the harsh winters that assaulted the pass between the mountains. Oark encouraged the others to help expand his own ideas on food gathering, hunting, and storing foods for times when they couldn't be found as easily. It took several years but eventually the tribesmen following Oark had figured out ways to grow more food by breaking the roots they could grow multiple plants instead of just one. Small breakthroughs like these helped to combat the hunger that was often felt in these earliest days. Oark helped develop nets to better catch fish and the tribesmen discovered ways of preserving the meat better using salt gathered from rocks. The tribesmen had come a long ways from those that had first arrived with Oark many years ago. The oldest tribesmen alive in this modest village were among the youth that came when Oark first established this settlement.

Oark reflected on the years that had passed and the many winters he'd endured as he looked into his reflection in the creek that ran beside the village. The youth that had arrived with him when the village was established were now quite visibly elderly members of the village. He looked into his reflection and studied his long brown hair; which was still length-wise down to his knees. He studied his muscles and admired the structure of his veins over them. He smiled at himself and his still youthful appearance and then he looked into his eyes and the smile faded. In his eyes he could see his true age, and he could see he'd far outlived any other tribesmen. Within just a few more years there would would be none alive from before he'd drank from the strange glowing waters. To this day whenever he could steal the chance to sneak away he would and he would drink from his special waters in the forbidden lands. To his disappointment the last time he'd arrived at the cave the glow of the rock had faded even more than the year before and the pool of water had shrunk considerably. He habitually killed and ate any creature he came across in the cave or surrounding area to ensure they did not drink from his pool but it did not resolve the issue that the waters were slowly receding as the years past. He feared he would die when the waters ran out and he could no longer drink from them. The first fear of death he'd felt in years.

Decades came and went and Oark would still walk along the creeks and stare at his unchanging reflection. The tribesmen began to tell stories of their great leader and his unchanging physique. The old would tell the young that he looked the same as when they themselves were young. As time progressed there were tales of him being told in varying dialects in the thriving village and surrounding areas. The dialect and language spoken commonly by tribesmen these days was very different from the language he was taught at birth; a language now lost in the passage of time. This newer language allowed greater communication and consisted of more sounds besides grunts and howls. The world had changed around him while he stood unchanged through time. Time had passed painfully slow for him as he watched generation after generation come and go among the tribesmen.

During one of Oark's habitual nightly walks along the creek on the outskirts of his village he found himself admiring the moonlight reflecting off the surface of the water. The gentle sound of water trickling as it passed the contours of rocks and dirt moving downstream was calming. He'd had a busy day settling disputes amongst his tribesmen and needing this time to relax before going yet again into his role of mediator and leader in the morning. Letting his eyes pass casually over the shadows amoung the bushes along the creek he admired how the moonlight manipulated the umbra effect. His eyes then settled on one shadow that was moving steadily towards him. Startled he jumped for his short spear but the shadow had already overtaken him. A female figure stood before him scantily clad in loose linens not made from furs but seemingly woven from the stars themselves. He admired her nearly translucent skin, clearly untouched by the sun, contrasting to his own deeply tanned skin. Her hair was pin straight and black as midnight with eyes to match in an eerie mirror. Her womanly curves were all well developed but not disproportionate to her body size. Her facial features were both sharp yet delicate though he did notice her ears were slightly elongated and pointed at the tips.

"Kneel mortal. For I am Sidh, the daughter of Death." Oark felt fear ripple through the world around him as her shrill words rippled through the air. He couldn't help but feel she'd intentionally manipulated her voice to make her voice high pitched. As such he didn't feel the fear that he felt pass by him. Unflinching and unkneeling he peered into her lovely features and noticed the soft curl of her lip as her nose flared in his disobedience.

"Greetings Sidh, I am Oark." As he spoke Oark boldly took a step forward which caused Sidh to flinch and step back. Shaking her head she regained her composure and moved forward again.

"I know of you Oark. You have outlived any creature that has ever lived on this world. It is time for you to come to Death and my father sent me personally to collect you." As she spoke she extended her hand and it delicately slipped from under her linen. Small delicate fingers and a dainty wrist extended forward towards him, "I need only touch you for you to join Death." Oark felt his heart pound loudly and foolishly he reached out to her as though to relish that Death himself felt it was his time and after all these many decades he would finally rest. The other part of him was excited to touch Sidh, even for the briefest of moments before his death. Their fingers touched and power rippled through his arm, across his chest, into every facet of his body. They stood there holding hands and he waited but he did not die. Smirking he tugged her wrist and she was pulled to him, her hands landing with reserve and hesitation on his chest. Her eyes grew wide as she looked up into his eyes he boldly tilted her chin up. The moonlight reflected radiantly from her eyes as he leaned down and kissed her. She tensed at first but then relaxed and returned the kiss until a soft sound of a branch dipping into the stream startled her.

"No." Sidh looked at Oark confused by how he still stood there smirking. She pulled herself back from him but he grabbed her wrist, "I said no!" Her voiced raised she struck Oark in the chest with the full brunt of her power. He felt the touch of death pass straight through him and into the world beyond him. A beautiful aura of blues and violets radiated out from her hand and wisped around him. As these wisps of living light stretched past him they killed everything they touched; fish rose from the stream, insects dropped dead in mid-flight, trees withered, grass shriveled, and the death passed by him without scathing him. Amused Oark released her wrist.

"Good night Sidh, daughter of Death."

Chapter 2: Oark's Retribution

Hall of the Immortals

Chapter 2: Oark's Retribution

Oark walked swiftly towards the mountain range and this time, stopping to examine his path over the dangerous range, noticed a much easier path. This path was a large hilly area that offered a mountain free passage between the two closest mountains. Upon seeing this he felt foolish for having brute forced his way over an entire mountain when he could have just walked around it. Swallowing this feeling he moved on further knowing no other tribesman in creation would have noticed this foolish mistake. It was going to take him a couple of days to make it through the pass but his determination drove him in an inhumane manner.

After having drank the water from the glowing pool Oark had found that he felt stronger and faster. He wasn't convinced that this change wasn't just because his reflexes were faster due to his clarity of mind. These increased reflexes and clarity were the only thing to save his life the first night he stayed on the hills in the mountain pass. He built a bonfire and bellowed to hills in deep thundering roars. This was his war chant; this was his march of retribution. After his bellowing chant he laid down but had restless sleep. Just before dawn he awoke he stared over the large bed of glowing coals and as his eyes adjusted he saw a shadow pass opposite him. Sitting up his eyes adjusted to see the bulk of a young puma pacing and staring at him with empty, hungry, eyes. He slowly backed to the side where his spear laid leaning against a log in the clearing he slept in.

Just as Oark's hand reached out for the spear he heard a soft growl and turned slowly to see a second young puma crouched just past his spear. As he grabbed his spear the first puma pounced at him with its massive claws catching his shoulder and pulling him down. Panic gripped him and he felt his heart pounding excessively as the cat pulled him down and the second cat pounced. In panic he tried to stab the second one but missed and dropped his spear instead. The first puma bit into his left shoulder while pinning his chest to the ground. The second puma growled and pounced the first puma knocking it back which gave him an opportunity to scramble free.

The pumas fought over the kill as Oark slid to his spear which got the attention of both cats. As the second puma pounced he planted his spear and aimed it at the cats chest. The aim was solid and the young puma's body slid down the spear as the first puma pounced. Try as he might in that desperate moment he was unable to pull the spear from the body of the puma. Moving out of the way just in time to avoid the pouncing puma he snapped his spear in half and launched himself at the puma with such ferocity the cat retreated several feet in surprise. With a new found rush of adrenaline he grabbed the remaining puma by the throat with his left hand and wielding the broken spear with his right he drove the head into the neck next to his hand. With both cats dead he stumbled back over to the hot coals and laid down next to them. He was bleeding heavily from both shoulders and before he knew it he felt darkness overwhelming his vision. Without inhibition he felt himself die in a pool of his blood with two dead pumas and a bed of hot coals.

With a shock Oark gasped and air filled his lungs as his body came back to life. Confused he sat up while his still wet blood dripped off of him. As he felt his skin the lacerations he'd had before were now gone. Shaking his head wearily he took a drink of his water and started cleaning camp. Disappointed by his broken spear he decided to work on a new weapon that wouldn't break so easily. He wasn't strong enough to wield a club but now too strong to wield a spear without fear of breaking it. Resolving the thoughts of a new weapon as a future project he instead gathered the claws and teeth of the two pumas. With his new second chance of life he moved on through the pass between the mountains.

Oark traveled for weeks looking for his tribe and as he did he encountered more puma, serpents, and even a lone bear. All of whom he'd found increasingly clever ways of killing while experimenting with new weapons. In the end he settled on what he called a short spear. It had a short pole only three feet long but with a much longer blade on the end reaching almost two feet long. Due to the compacted size he was able to use a much stronger and thicker log for the pole. His new weapon was vicious and with his still increasing speed and strength he found that he was no longer hunted by the predators but that he was now the hunter.

Weeks after he'd left the mountain pass Oark finally caught sites of a tribe moving slowly by the creek he'd been at months earlier. Happily Oark swiftly moved to converge with the slow moving group but once he'd arrived he found to his disappointment that this was a different tribe than the one he'd been with. The new tribe told him of a war they'd had which claimed the lives of most of their men leaving only weak and elderly men alive. The tribeswomen were very happy to have Oark there but he was not pleased at the distraction nor the desire of the tribeswomen to bond with him. Despite the tribeswomen that were gaily flaunting themselves to him Oark understood the value that this tribe could have to him. He started by showing the tribesmen how to build better shelters. Shelters that could protect them from predatory attacks yet were light enough to pack up and move when the tribe moved. The tribe had embraced him but he hadn't felt a strong connection to them because he wanted more, he wanted to lead them.

It was several weeks before the situation with the tribe Oark had found changed. The morning had started the same as most of the morning had before. Oark started his morning by walking by the creek, he would bathe in the cold water and then sneak sips of his secret water. Every drop of the glowing water gave him increased clarity and further solidified his resolve to hunt his former tribe. Preparing himself mentally to depart the tribe he heard screams coming from the camp. Worried that the fire he'd built in the center on the tribe had grown out of control he made his way quickly back. Everything looked to be in order when he arrived but the tribesmen were panicked and he didn't understand why until he saw one of the younger tribeswomen with a spear through her stomach. He ran up and grabbed his short spear as he saw over a dozen tribesmen from his former tribe attacking.

"Oark say STOP!" As Oark bellowed this command the attacking tribesmen surprised stopped attacking to stare in awe that Oark was still alive. Krah came forward, the youngest elder of these tribesmen had gathered an array of scars since Oark had seen him last. This tribesman was a killer, and he had killed Awwt. Krah spoke out,

"Krah kill Oark, Oark die now." As Krah approached he drew his spear.

"Oark not die," Oark snorted in retort, "Oark kill Krah and Oark tribe leave here." He gestured at the rest of the tribe who still stood watching as the scout and the elder squared off. The elder scoffed at the short spear wielded by the scout and lunged with a forward thrust aimed to impale. Oark grabbed the spear as he twisted and it passed harmlessly at his side. Krah pulled back and thrust again and this time Oark grabbed the spear and jerked it from the elder. With one large sweeping motion he knocked the feet out from under Krah and threw the spear with such force at the elders chest that the air sang from the passing spear. Krah rolled but only barely and the spear tore through his back muscles. Screaming Krah gripped the pommel of the spear and rose as Oark charged him. Before Krah could get the spear upright Oark had gripped it and pulled it to jerk Krah to him. Before Krah, the tribesmen, or even Oark had time to register what happened Krah was dead. The short spear thrust solidly through the chest cavity and out the back of the elder. Awwt's murderer was dead. Oark spat disgustedly at Krah's lifeless body.

"Oark kill Krah. Old tribe leave now." Oark pointed to the woods beyond the tribesmen camp. As his old tribe departed his new tribe came and embraced him for stopping the attacking tribe. His eyes looked past the tribe to the departure of his former tribe. As his eyes narrowed he knew that his vengeance for the death of Awwt was not yet over. They would die in the fire he felt within.

Chapter 1: Beginnings - Oark

Hall of the Immortals

Chapter 1: Beginnings 

Oark woke with a start and starred up at the early morning sky. He'd been keeping warm by the fire he'd kept going for several days but it had all but died in the night. He tossed some more wood on it before moving to the nearby creek to drink some water. He listened to the soft happy sounds of the creek and grinned as he counted the droplets of dew rolling off of leaves into the creek. Then as he looked at his reflection and admired his features his thoughts trailed to others his age. He was small by the standards of his day though muscular. Dark brown hair dominated his features. Almost knee length wavy hair and his mustache grew with his beard and reached the lower regions of his muscular belly. He wore the skins of small animals though he was not modest and the clothing was only to help keep his skin warm. It was one of the ways he was more inclined to progress than others were.

Oark was an advanced man for his time for while most of his companions would shirk from flames he would capture it and use it for warmth and protection. Like many of the men of his era most of the predators that hunted the tribes of men were equally scared of fire. The tribal elders and leaders shunned Oark for embracing fire as a tool instead of fearing it as was proper. Ultimately it was not in him to cower before the very thing he felt burning inside himself. Even Awwt, the woman he bonded with, was scared of his flames. The elders of the tribe tried to separate Oark from Awwt because if  she became pregnant then Oark would remain in the tribe until he died. They would send Oark on his own to hunt, gather, and scout areas before the tribe would move there. These dangerous missions had nearly claimed his life more than once.

Oark and Awwt shared shelter when he was back in the tribe from scouting. It was rarely for long that they would get time to spend together but he would bring her back flowers, leaves, and oddities of plant-life from his scouting. Awwt was a modestly beautiful tribeswoman though her features weren't delicate but slightly plump in the cheeks. A soft warm blush could often be seen in her cheeks and her long brown hair dangled easily to her knees. What he cherished most about her wasn't her looks but the gentle way she expressed her fondness of him. She would hold his hands, nuzzle his neck and face, and smile gently at him whenever he would approach. The only harsh side to her was when the time would quickly come that he would have to leave to scout. Awwt would leave the area and not look him in the eyes when he would leave. The coldness he left her with was the coldness he'd feel from her on these days.

One night when he was sleeping the flames of his fire had grown low and the night had grown colder. Oark stirred from his sleep and saw the fire dying and rose to gather more wood for it so that he could keep it going. Even though the times were primitive his thoughts felt deep to him and he remembered the first fire he'd collected was from the light that fell from the sky. The dry grass had caught fire when a tree had been struck. The rain had put most of it out but Oark had saved part of it and kept it alive for months before it finally went out and he had to collect more. Over time he'd found other was of finding fire but it wasn't until the last time when he was sharpening a spear that he found sparks. Sparks could be used to start a fire and he kept a few of these rocks that were good for this purpose in a small pouch he carried made from the fur of a small rabbit he'd killed when he was younger. The memory of the first flames and the difficulty to create more made him move quickly to save his fire.

Staring at the ground as Oark gathered sticks and twigs for his fire he didn't notice the large feline that had moved into the area until he heard the low growl and soft crackle of twigs snapping as it crept forward. With a start Oark stood up straight and ran back towards his coals but not fast enough as the large cat pounced. The cat had fangs and claws extended and just as the large paw brushed the edge of his shoulder he rolled to the left, heavily landing his hip on a rock as he did. The sharp toothed cat clumsily stumbled and landed face first into the bed of coals. As it hissed at the hot bed it landed in Oark took advantage of the distraction and grabbing his spear he plunged it deftly into the side of the great beast. With a large deep moaning growl the feline collapsed and Oark avoided death yet again.

The next morning Oark started the two day trek back to his tribe with the beast in tow. When he arrived back at the location his tribe had been he was not surprised to find they'd moved the tribe without him yet again. The last time they'd done so they claimed that water was needed and he was thought to have died despite being camped beside water and the fact he'd only been gone several days. It was likely they'd have a similar story this time and thus sighing heavily he hefted the puma he'd killed and followed the worn trail leading into the brush of the nearby woods in search of his tribe yet again. It took him another two days before he reached his tribe who rejoiced in his arrival only upon seeing the dead puma he brought in tow. In order to preserve the valuable food that would have rotted he had cooked the beast and his tribesmen took it from him with great hesitation and suspicion. With their joy of the dead predator waning in sight of yet another new and dangerous way Oark was changing their tribe with fire the elders conspired of a final way to rid themselves of him.

Oark awoke early in the morning smelling burning, flesh, and hearing screams. As he rose he saw Awwt burning to death, caught under a huge fallen log. Oark bellowed a deep scream and he ran to her and tried to lift the log off of her. Her screams echoed in his ears as he pounded on the log and then running backwards took off and hit the log with such force that it knocked the air out of him. His own flesh burned and tears streaming down his face he bellowed yet another deep scream. Agony searing the air as he mourned his inability to save Awwt. Through blurry tear filled eyes Oark witnessed the rest of his tribe watching as Awwt burned alive, and despite his screams at them to help move the log none of them moved. Finally, hours after she had stopped moving a single elder came forward. Krah, the youngest of the elders and barely older than Oark crouched beside her corpse.

"You do this Oark, You bring fire. Oark fire. Do this." Krah shoved the corpse of Awwt dismissively. "Oark leave, Oark take fire. Oark leave now." A deep moan rose from Oark as he rose and walked past his tribesmen. He knew they were right and his fire had killed Awwt. He knew he had to leave because he killed a member of the tribe. As he passed each one that stood in the same spots they had been in since Awwt was burning spat at him. He moved past unflinching and passed through the woods and eventually hills, miles and miles from his tribe. That night he sat staring at the stones which he had used to cast sparks. Fury rose in his chest and he threw them knowing he was unwise for wielding fire. Tears filled his eyes again and he screamed at the stars, uncaring as to whether or not he attracted a predator. A streak of light cut across the sky as he stared now in awe at the sight of a great star falling from the sky. The star fell over the sky and landed with force on the other side of the mountain range he'd been inadvertently walking towards as he left his tribe. Despite the pain over his recent loss he stared in both fear and awe at the sight before him, the whole mountain was seemingly caught on fire and the source had been a star that fell from the sky. Without even meaning to Oark put one foot in front of the other and before he knew it he was well on his way towards the mountain.

Days passed by while Oark traveled to the base of the mountains and he'd already encountered multiple perils which threatened his life from a pair of the puma felines that hunted tribesmen to an unexpected rain storm threatened to drown him. Yet he did not stop walking towards the star save to sleep and relieve himself. Every waking moment was spent moving steadily towards the fallen star. With every step, every handhold of grass and root on the mountain side, and then with every rock hold he could grasp he made his was closer to the fallen star. Sleeping on the mountain was even more dangerous than sleeping down in the valleys below because he had no cover and the wind, rain, and predators were ever fierce but despite the perils he never made a fire for he had killed Awwt with fire.

Finally, Oark scrambled and pulled himself onto a large flat rock which breached the top of the mountain range. His eyes widened as he saw the fiery crater that had appeared from the star that fell. It stretched as far as he could see and despite the week that had passed for him to make it this far the fires still actively burned all around the impact zone. After staring on at the darkened sky and flaming bowl before him he started the trek down the mountain to the center of the impact. It took him days just to reach the base of the mountain due to the impact the already sharp edges of the mountain side were even more treacherous and in some places the drops were hundreds of feet high. When he finally did reach the base of the mountain he found disappointingly that he was unable to find any water. With little else to do he began his walk towards the center of the impact. It took him a whole day just to make his way down the slope of the crater with his thirst ever increasing. Unlike the other side of the mountain this side was much hotter, the ground was cracked from the star that fell and heat came from the ground. No water could be found any where on this side of the mountain either.

With great anticipation Oark awoke the next day and made his way quickly through the lifeless, waterless, flaming valley to the center of the impact. All of his anticipation mounting he looked on with utter disappointment to find only a hole at the center of the massive crater. There was no star, no great fire, and he grunted in disgust for allowing himself to travel so far from water. He sat next to the hole and sighed heavily in defeat. Leaning back against a rock on the edge of the hole he stared upward at the dusty seemingly fiery sky. A sound echoed softly from down in the hole, it sounded familiar and Oark hummed happily at the sound. Drip, drip, drip. Like the sound of the dew drops rolling off of leaves into a creek.

Suddenly Oark was sitting upright and alert. He heard water down in that hole and he needed to get to it. Climbing carefully down the rock side of the hole he found it was a small cave and he followed the echoes of the water droplets. Feeling his way through the dark despite his fear the less his fear gripped him despite finding great voids in the dark where he could feel nothing. The hole kept sloping at an angle downwards and there was a soft yellow glow coming from further in, the glow grew stronger as the sound of the water grew stronger. As he finally made his way to the bottom of the cave he found a deep pool of water with a brightly glowing rock in the deepest part of the pool. Oark was terrified of drowning and barely crept to the water edge where he drank greedily from the yellow glowing pool. Then after looking around the cave a little he settled down to sleep.

Oark awoke with a groan, sore and stiff from the rocks he slept on. His eyes adjusted to the lighting generated from the glowing rock in the pool of water. As his vision cleared so did his mind. For the first time in his life Oark felt clarity enter his mind. Oark felt stronger and knew instantly that the source of his mental clarity was rooted in the water he drank from the pool before him. Drinking healthily more water from the pool he realized he would have to take waters from this strange pool of water with him. For the first time ever he had a unique idea, an idea of making a container so that it wouldn't spill, and he realized he could make one. Within hours he had crafted the first jar in all of creation. He spent weeks at the cave eating from the rodents he'd found hiding in there with him and practicing new methods of making jars to carry more, weigh less, and spill less of the precious water. The pool had gotten deeper despite his generous drinking from the continued collection of ground water and the more he drank the clearer his mind grew.

It was only roughly a week after his mind had cleared that Oark understood that the elders of his tribe had murdered Awwt and convinced the tribe and Oark himself that he had caused her death. As he emerged from the cave of the fallen star, the fires of the world were minuscule in comparison to the fires that burned in his heart. Retribution was coming.