The Pilgrims

The pilgrims travelled in single file as they followed the narrow trail that snaked its way down the side of the valley towards the small encampment in the distance. The dry earth at their feet was sent airborne with every step and the air was thick with fine grey dust that clung to their bodies, giving them the appearance of ghosts. None spoke as they made there slow decent for water was in short supply and the grit in the air left them parched. But the end of the journey was in sight, giving them the strength to push their weary bodies towards their goal: an audience with the Oracle of Melisande.

It had been three weeks since they had left the comparative safety of the Wall and entered the desert in search of answers, for the Oracle was reputed to have the gift of foresight and the ability to grant peace to those in need of it. Initially their spirits had been high, but when supplies started to run low and three of their number perished, they settled into a state of despair. Had it not been for the steely resolve of one man, a stranger, whose eyes showed signs of untold pain, urging them on, the group would have likely followed their fellows into the cold embrace of death.

The Stranger had remained silent for most of the journey, but his zeal and words of encouragement had inspired them, bolstered their courage when they needed it most. For this they loved him and continued to follow him into the unknown.

He led the way now, picking a safe path through the boulders and loose rocks that covered the hillside. Looking towards the camp, he noticed that distant figures seemed to be taking an interest in their decent, but had yet made no move to aid or hinder their progress towards the valley floor and the sanctuary that the small settlement seemed to offer the exhausted travellers. He estimated that it would be nightfall before they would reach safety, for the daylight was fading fast.

Once the group had made it down, the going became easier and they were able to make good time crossing the plain, reaching the outskirts of the encampment just after dusk. The figures that had observed their progress earlier were now no where to be seen, but a number of camp fires burned amongst the tents, bathing the area in a flickering eerie orange glow.

As they made their way towards the centre of the camp they were confronted by enormous shapes emerging from the darkness. Soon, they were surrounded by large numbers of snarling lizard-like creatures armed with primitive spears. The brutes were called Krull and were not know for their mercy.

Panic gripped the company as they stared death in the face. They began to wail and cower in terror as the Krull moved closer, but the Stranger showed no fear. Laying a reassuring hand on those he pass, he burst from the midst of the throng to confront the biggest, most important –looking Krull.

“Hold! We are pilgrims seeking the guidance of the Oracle of Melisande!” he declared, his arms held outstretched in a gesture of peace. “And we can pay for her wisdom.”

The large Krull laughed; his voice deep and inhuman.

“Then you have come to the right place,” he hissed. “Come, we will take you to her.”

Breathing sighs of relief, the pilgrims followed the Krull through the sea of tents until they reached a small outcrop of rock at the centre of the camp. A doorway had been hewn into the solid stone but little could be seen in the deeper darkness beyond. Two massive Krull stood either side of the entrance, eyes alert and weapons ready.

The large Krull turned to the humans and gestured towards the doorway, “The Oracle waits within, but only one may enter.”

The Stranger was the first to enter the temple, finding his way along the tunnel by touch alone. The stone felt rough but refreshingly cool beneath his fingers, a welcome change for one who had become accustomed to the heat of the desert above. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he began to pick out a faint red light at the end of the tunnel.

He quickened his pace and entered a small chamber where small braziers provided a small amount of illumination. A veiled figure sat before him on a raised dais in the centre of the room, beckoning him to come closer.

“So pilgrim, you have braved the hardships of the desert to seek my wisdom,” a sultry female voice stated. “Have you payment?”

“I have,” he replied. He took a coin from his pocket and placed it into her outstretched hand before retreating a few paces.

The Oracle held her palm open for a few moments, seemingly regarding the coin with great interest from beneath the veil. Slowly, she turned her hand and let the coin fall to the ground. It landed with a loud metallic ring and rolled, coming to rest by his boot. She took the veil and lifted it from her face with both hands, revealing pale skin and deep, dark eyes. Her expression was one of regret as she noticed the gun in his hand.

“I knew that you would come,” she said, her voice filled with sadness. “No matter how far I ran or how well I hid myself away, I knew that you would find me. It is Fate and nothing can change what must be.”
She lowered her head and asked, “But I have one request; would you make it quick?”

He fired three shots in quick succession and she slid slowly to the floor. With the last of her strength she raised her head and looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Remember; you must not let them take the girl. She must survive if we are to stand any chance,” she gasped before her breathing stilled and her eyes dulled.

Kneeling beside her, he worked quickly to remove the items from her person that he’d been sent to recover, the Necklace and the Ring. Pocketing the items, he turned his attention to the entrance of the chamber. Her guardians were still unaware of what had just transpired. Holstering his weapon, he returned to his feet. Job complete, he slipped quietly from the chamber and into the night.

It was an hour later when he had reached the edge of the valley that the first screams reached his ears. The Krull, on finding their Oracle dead, had turned their anger against the pilgrims. Not looking back, he set off in the direction of the Wall.