When it became apparent the night terrors would not stop, Shimani and Sari convinced Moto to confide in the Queen about his night terrors. Queen Shakti called the Council of Shanees together, at which point, they grilled him until he lost his temper and stormed out. For some reason, the Queen restrained from administering disciplinary actions against him for the disrespect he displayed towards the Council and herself. Instead, all gave him a wide berth and acted as if the incident didn't exist.
Only recently he started having daily conversations with the Queen in hope he could convince her to prepare for a possible attack. It might not help, but it would be something. He needed to do something. He couldn't find the answers he searched for, so he hoped that maybe he could at least prepare the villages' defenses. As it were, none of the villages were prepared for any kind of attack. There were no defenses, and only a handful of warriors. The lack of Kahoali warriors in the villages caused additional contention between his Queen and himself. He struggled against that problem for a very long time. The Queen and Shanees appeared to be content with their heads buried in their headdresses and eyes cast to the present and not the future.
Their conversation this morning deteriorated faster than he expected. Queen Shakti refused to budge as she refused every other morning. Unlike every other morning, Moto didn't contain his temper from the start. His emotions always ran hotter than any other Kahoali warrior or any other Kahoali. But then again, every other Kahoali didn't live with his night terrors. No other Kahoali saw what he saw, and neither could the other Kahoali do what he could. Except Shimani. Shimani's abilities developed in the same way Moto's did. Shimani accompanied Moto on enough excursions to other worlds that he saw much of what Moto saw. No one left the safety of the villages and no outsider gained permission to visit any of the villages, ever. Not that anyone asked or tried in the past 140 years.
Moto walked over and laid his hand on Shimani's shoulder. "Thank you." He knew Shimani attempted to help, and only followed orders. Moto turned to leave. He needed space and time, not that having more time would help with his night terrors. Moto put distance between them. As he put his hand up to open a portal, he heard Shimani call after him.
"Where are you going?" Shimani's words remained calm. Moto appreciated Shimani's calm nature and provided more reason why he liked him. Shimani didn't get upset. Shimani's calm also annoyed him at times, like the present. Moto couldn't recall a time when he witnessed Shimani ever lose his temper.
Moto didn't reply.
"Don't forget about the evening repast." Shimani called after him.
Moto lifted his hand in acknowledgement of Shimani's words and then stepped through his portal. He didn't need reminded of what his duties to his Queen and people were. Again, he reminded himself that Shimani only wanted to help. Moto didn't need or want to give his Queen further irritation. She could be a patient woman, but he knew he tested her patience beyond what others found healthy to test. Not even her favorite Chosen should test her as he did. Being her favorite saved him on more than one occasion.
Moto stepped out of his portal. His destination lay beyond his current location and he could only reach it through the Ancestral Gateway, a stone arch in the middle of a forgotten forest. No buildings stood nearby. No evidence indicated any buildings ever existed there. Yet, there were stories of a great Ancestral City from which the Kahoali people originated. The stories described a way of life which didn't resemble the Kahoali way of life. Moto didn't trust the stories' accuracy, but he couldn't deny the evidence provided by the Ancestral Gateway of their truths.
As a youth, he questioned the elders in his village about the details of the stories and learned no one thought of them more than just stories. No one gave credence to that way of life. It became accepted that as the stories passed from generation to generation, they grew into the grandiose stories of today. The stories entertained and were not to be confused with historical facts. It irritated him how facts became what could be believed and everything else stories for nothing more than entertainment around the fires of the evening repasts. His irritation didn't provoke him to provide his people evidence to the contrary. He valued it as his and Shimani's secret alone. The Kahoali didn't want the truth of the stories. As an adult, he came to terms with that reality.
The Kahoali history passed down by word of mouth from generation to generation. No wonder their history grew into stories divided in the believable as historical and the unbelievable as entertainment. Moto often wondered why they didn't make some kind of permanent record of their history. Why no historians? No formal written language? No one knew how much of their history and way of life each generation discarded or failed to pass down. No one cared. He cared, but it didn't matter. His voice alone didn't change anything, a lesson he found difficult to learn in the recent days.
A part of Moto felt the loss
