Warning: If you hate reading about violence and blood, delete this now. You have been warned.

Title: Blood (1/1)

Series/Sequel: The third in the Reincarnation Series.

Author: Vera

Rating: R for violence

Summary: Through the centuries of human history, two souls are bound together. This second tale takes place in prehistory. The timeline may skip, but it will end in the present.

Archive: If you have the others. If not contact me.

Feedback: Requested. Written in a very different style then usual for me.

Disclaimer: The boys belong to Sandra, I just like to mess with them.

Notes: Each title will tell you what separates the souls. I don't know if I believe in reincarnation or not, but it makes for fertile story telling ground. This was not written with the intent of offending any religion. The tribe discussed here is vaguely Native American, but is of my own creation. No offense was intended.

They moved in the day, roaming over the dirt cracked and dry beneath their feet. Short of Leg and She that Limps walked together. They were slower then many of the other women and often fell to the back. In the fight for survival, they were slowly becoming the losers. It was all they could do to keep up and together they walked side by side, pace for pace helping the other struggle by. There was no question as to how this alliance worked. They had to work together or they would both be left behind, two more mouths to feed.

The place where the herds ran and the plants grew wildly was still very far away. The sun might set many times before they arrived and already three had fallen on the path, never to rise again. At nights, they lit small fires and fought over the food bits they had left. Short of Leg would occasionally manage to grab enough food to bring back to her partner, but this night no food was to be found, the two women huddled together and slept, exhausted.

"Here are the two that lag behind."

It was Short of Leg who stirred first of the two, nudging She Who Limps awake. Three men stood over them, scratching themselves and leering down at the shacking women. They backed away hissing and making dangerous motions.

One man spoke,

"I am One with Wind, my brothers are Trail Marker and Forgetful of the Sun."

"What do you want?" Sputtered She Who Limps, her small black eyes flashing.

"We have seen you fall behind. If you mate with us, we will see that you are not left in the dirt."

"You have no power to do that." Hissed She Who Limps. "I have seen you before, you are low in group. You walk not so far in front of us."

"Far enough. My back is strong, I could help you to walk."

"Why would you do this?"

One with Wind looked pained for a moment, throwing a look over to his brothers.

"We have never mated before and when we reach the herds, we will need women to set up our camp."

"What of your mother?"

"She has forced us out of her tent. We are to old to depend on her. She has many babies now." He sounded torn between pride in her fecundity and sadness at leaving the family home.

Short of Leg tightened her grip on She Who Limps shoulder. They had no other choice, slowly Short of Leg nodded her head.

"We agree."

They allowed all three brothers to mate with them and at the dawning of the sun when the walk began again, She Who Limps found a strong arm around her waist, supporting her and Short of Leg found it easier to keep up with the long smooth strides of One With Wind, then the halting ones of She Who Limps.

The rest of the journey passed much easier. Slowly, the land beneath their feet began to thrive and when they reached the good place, it was blooming and full of green, herds running through plentiful and free. The two women were busy setting up the family dwelling place, they worked mostly in silence, trilling at each other occasionally and breaking when the sun was high to nap in the shade of the half finished home.

In the new place, there wasn't a need to move so soon because there was plenty of everything and they stayed for a long time. The women become round with child and are allowed to take new names. Short of Leg choose Clear Eyes and Short of Leg became Screams like a Man because of a beast scared away from their dwelling by screaming and growling.

It came to pass that the two women bore children, but both of these children were strange for they had something never seen before and spoke of only in legends. Blue eyes. This was the mark of something great and strange, an omen of the things to come and caused the rest of the group to retreat in fear when they saw either women or their strange sons.

Clear Eyes and Screams Like a Man saw this and feared for their children. They brought their children to She Who Speaks, the priestess who could commune with all the spirits of the world.

"They are important," said She Who Speaks, reading from bone fragments. "Their coming disturbs many things, but they will not come until the boys are bloodied with their first kill."

Greatly relieved, the mother collected their children.

Time passed again, this time the moon grew and waned many times and there came a time when two boys were ready to become men. The prophesy had been forgotten over time and had become only a general foreboding as a nervous Clear Eyes whispered her good-byes to Fleet of Foot and Bold as Sky. Screams Like a Man silently handed the boys their spears and together the two women watched as the boys disappeared chattering to the horizon.

***

"It is dark. We should return home." Spoke Fleet of Foot over the long silence.

"We must return with a beast." Said Bold as Sky. " We cannot fall into disgrace."

"Then let us make a fire to sit by during the night. We cannot hunt in the dark."

Grumbling, Bold as Sky agreed and soon they sat close together by the flame. They had only some stale flat bread that had been fresh only in the morning, but now was hard. They ate in silence.

There was a heavy chill in the air. Bold as Sky regarded the thin blankets they had brought to keep themselves warm. Fleet of Foot shifted his weight.

"Perhaps...perhaps it would be best if we were to lie together and share warmth as we used to when we were small." He finally suggested.

Bold as Sky regarded the other man. They were different in may ways, but they shared a household and they had been raised to be stronger then brothers for their strange looks excluded them from playing with other boys. They were constant companions as their mothers had been. The ideas of the opposite sex were dim in their mind and though they knew some from the things they saw and heard of their mothers and fathers, it remained a vague open mystery. Bold as Sky knew that their lying together had something to do with this chasm.

"We are larger now. Not to be like boys. When we return to the village with the hunt, we will be initiated into the mystery and told of things."

"Yes, But now it is cold and I want to be warm." Fleet of Foot shot back.

"You are right." Bold of Sky said finally, capitulating. "Come, let us go to sleep then."

The blankets spread easily over the two of them, who at first lay back to back, but finally found face to face more comfortable, the slighter Fleet of Foot resting his head on Bold as Sky's shoulder. They slept, winding closer together to keep out the growing chill.

When the sun woke them they walked again and did not speak of waking so close together or for the discomfort of their bodies which they separately relieved. Finally, they chanced upon a limping hoofed one. Bold as Sky took it with one clear shot and they both fell to their knees thanking the spirits.

It was in triumph they dragged the thing back to the village and gloried that night around the fire. Clear Eyes watched them closely, calling up the memory of She Who Speaks. They were made men under her sharp watch, bathed in the blood of their kill. The final step, the sacrifice of the meat to the flames would have confirmed their manhood. Together they stepped forward, eyes wide with anticipation and bloodlust.

"HALT!"

She turned quickly to see He Who Sees, the animus to the anima of She Who Speaks.

"Why have you paused the ceremony?" Ground out Screams like a Man. She stood proud and tall tonight, heeding no omens.

"I have Seen."

Gasps ran through the crowd. To have a vision was a rare gift and one that even He Who Sees was rarely blessed with, especially as the moons passed and vision had failed them.

"Tell us what you have seen." Chanted the tribe.

"I have seen the vision of the Gods and they have told me, that before us will be two with the Eyes. They are not one of the People, they are Star Children. They have been sent to our tribe to test us. The legends tell us that Star Children are born in pairs because of this strangeness, they share one soul between them. One body receives all that is pure. The other, "He paused, "the other is impure. Dirty. The Gods wish us to find the one that is impure and make his vessel body an offering to them. Only then will the one that is pure be free of all that taints him and will guide us to peace and prosperity."

There was silence for a long moment. Unconsciously, Fleet of Foot reached for Bold as Sky and they clasped hands in the pallid moonlight.

Nothing in their young lives prepared them for this. They had been raised knowing they were different somehow, but never to know it would do this. To prevent them from becoming men. It was a fate to awful to be believed. Had they been a year or two younger, Fleet of Foot would have started to cry. But he was almost a man now, so he forced back his sobs and clutched convulsively at the damp hand clasped in his.

The tribe would follow He Who Sees. They had no choice. To go against his word would be to question the very roots of their beliefs. Besides, those boys had always been strange. Different.

"How will we find the one that is impure?" Shouted one man from the back.

"That will be between me and She Who Speaks."

The old woman was not there tonight, but Bold as Sky felt his heart lighten. Surely, she would be able to help. Her amazing powers of discerning the truth were well known to the village children as a daily threat. The tribe subsided when they realized that this had gone out of their hands.

The two boys were taken immediately to a removed dwelling. The place where they kept those who had become suddenly violent. It was empty now, but it smelled fetid and dead. They were left in the dark with blankets and told to stay. No guard was posted and they made no attempt to leave. They both truly believed that they would be vindicated.

The whole long night, they did not sleep, but sat close together, muttering comforts. Eventually, Fleet of Foot curled up into Bold as Sky's lap like a child and they talked of days when they had gathered berries under the harsh burn of the sun.

She Who Speaks came in the morning, alone. With her she carried two bowls of steaming oats and made them eat before she spoke, her voice low and methodical.

"I cannot save you, little ones." She began, her voice filled with sorrow. "I fear that He Who Sees' vision has become cloudy and that he cannot understand what it that the gods show him. It is too late to remove his words from the air. One of you will die....the other's fate will be worse. Living as a half man among the people."

"Better to be dead dog, then a living half man." Bold as Sky muttered angrily. Fleet of Foot looked merely resigned. The hope they had clung to was useless and he gave it away.

"How will you choose?" He asked finally. "It will not be easy for you to pick which one of us should perish."

"No." She said, almost more to herself then to the blue eyes that had caused so much trouble "No, it will not be easy."

"How then? Through what magic will you divine which of us should die and which should live?" Bold as Sky glared at her, even as Fleet of Foot put a slight pressure on his arm to calm himself.

"I have talked it over with He Who Sees. He wishes to question you, in order that you might tell us your true nature."

"How can we tell what we do not know?" Bold as Sky demanded.

"I think that is something for you to decide." She Who Speaks answered slowly. "He's coming as we speak."

The old frail man entered, limping slightly from an ancient hunting mission. She Who Speaks didn't know what questions would be asked, but she knew the boys were strong and clever.

As he entered, She Who Speaks could make out men behind him. She counted fifteen of the tribe's best hunters. And each carried a blade. Her heart skipped a beat as she began to pray with a fervor she could not recall experiencing before, even with her long memory.

****

It was like nothing She Who Speaks could have imagined. The horror that paraded before her was an atrocity and though she screamed out many times for it to stop, the men paid her no mind, having already been told by He Who Sees, that she had spent time with the impure one and was surely tainted.

And so she was forced to watch. As men, who had never before caused pain to anything other then the killing blow in the hunt, broke the fingers of the young men, peeled back skin with knives and collected the rivulets of sweat and blood in bowls to be dedicated to the gods.

Many left, unable to take part in such atrocities. The stench of vomit from those who could no longer watch filled the air and added to the horror. He Who Sees stood among those rueful enough to continue on. He looked dead in his eyes and She Who Speaks was filled with loathing and disappear. Steeled herself against the screams and baring silent witness. There were herbs of which she knew, that eased the pain of dying. That worked it faster. Already she knew what she was going to do. With every scream that pierced the air, with every cry and babbled confession to crimes uncommitted, she felt her strength resolve. She would ease their deaths with the same broth she had fed their mothers after they had been given life. And what was left she would use on He Who Sees.

"He's fainted." Scoffed one of the tortures'. "He must be the impure one. So weak."

"And how long could you with stand such torture, Rain Falls Hard? Or should these men work to on you?" She says sharply. And he has the humanity left to blush and quake.

"The other is no longer awake." Comes the harsh whisper of Forgetful Days.

"Get out then." He Who Sees says finally. "And never speak of these hours again."

And She Who Speaks could see that he too was quaking. Had he not realized what he was doing? Fear tingled down her ancient spine. Was it possible that it was He Who Sees that was impure? Could the gods have been riding him for their own pleasures?

"What have you done?" She asked pitifully, moving to the prone bodies which only recently had begun to grow a dusting of hair. Their flesh was a working of pain and her tears flowed into their wounds as she began to wash them with a dampened cloth.

"I have done only what the gods asked me to do." He said with a weary sigh, slumping to the ground. "It has been hard for much time now."

And she thinks and realizes he is right. The sky has not given forth as it should, the game has grown scarce. The time has come to move on again, across the plains, but the tribe would not want to leave. This was home now and they were being punished. Better to kill and maim those among them first, offering them as sacrifices, before trying to solve the problem any other way.

"This is not right." She spoke, breaking the silence. "They are like us, they bleed like us, they speak as we do and dream as we do. They are not Star Children."

"No." He Who Sees stared blindly ahead of him. "They are worse."

"Worse?"

"They are merely children. Who are change. "

"You would have one of them die and the other serve as a toy of luck because they have different color eyes?" Disgust filled her and only the slight moan from Bold as Sky kept her from striking her counterpart.

"Before I let my people stray to the path of taint, I would kill every last child."

"That....that is the most tainted thing I have ever heard!" She growled. "You are a deformed, ugly thing."

"Perhaps." And he stood, wandering out, but couldn't resist a parting shot from the opening, "But this thing will preserve our people."

She rose to follow him and get the herbs she planned on using. The opening was suddenly shadowed by the face of Forgetful Days.

"He Who Sees asked me to stay behind and watch over you and the Sky Children. He believes that you might be tainted."

She gazed in the brown eyes, but saw no softness. She, without warning, recalled his birth and how his Mother had broken the birthing silence with a piercing scream, thus cursing her child with weakness. But Forgotten Days was strong of body and stubborn of spirit. He would not budge.

Tending the wounds of the unconscious boys the best she could, She Who Speaks was silent.

***

"Keep the tainted woman here, but bring the boys out to me."

Bold as Sky sat up, slowly. He had drifted in and out of a dream world since the men had left, only slightly aware of She Who Speaks care and Fleet of Foot very close. But now, he came awake, his mind heavy with sleep and pain. His skin complained as he turned, his first coherent thought of his companion.

Fleet of Foot was in slightly better shape, leaning against the old woman and sipping water from a gourd. Before, he could open his mouth to address either of them, Forgotten Days was on them and hauling them to their feet. The hundred little cuts on his arm sent fire to his mind, but he did not cry out. She Who Speaks made no attempt to move. It was apparent to her that she could not stop what had already begun. All she could do was wait for her own freedom, so that she might take revenge on He Who Sees and try to take back the tribe.

Forgotten Days half carried, half dragged them to the fire where only the night before, they had stood in such glory. Again the whole tribe was assembled around the crackling flames. Watching. Unnaturally silent. Forgotten Days dumped them before the fire. The day had been unnaturally hot and the night still very warm. Being beside the fire, they began to sweat, their cuts stinging from the salt. In a heavy effort, Bold as Sky roused himself to his knees, dragging Fleet of Foot with him, staining his palms with the blood of his friend.

He Who Sees, Forgotten Days behind him, came before the tribe, standing behind the boys.

"These are the Star Children. They have fought against us, testing us for the gods, but we have prevailed!" His voice rose and fell in hypnotic cadences. Bold as Sky clutched on to Fleet of Foot, keeping him upright.

"We are stronger together." He whispered.

"Through questions and prayer, we have discovered the one who would destroy us!" The theatrics boomed through the open space, filling it.

"From birth to death, we are together."Bold as Sky continued, his voice so low, it reached only the ears of Fleet as Foot. The two faced each other, their eyes locked.

"I call on the tribe to rise against one who would harm us! I call on the tribe to know the animal that tore at us from inside!" The tribe is being swayed now, caught up in the slow chanting yells of He Who Sees.

"From first pain to last. We are together." Fleet of Foot gasped out and they leaned their foreheads together.

"I call on this tribe to avenge the mother who bore this beast!" From the enchanted crowd, screams of pain came from the throats of Screams like a Man and Clear Eyes. Their men held them back with tears of sadness. What had begun would end and the fewer lost in the fray the better.

"We should have been one." Bold as Sky intoned.

"I call on the tribe to end our oppression!"

"We are one where it matters most." Fleet of Foot laid his hands on the trembling arms that supported him.

"I call on the tribe to tear this barb from its' hide!"

"We should have had a lifetime."

"I call upon the tribe to free itself of suffering."

"We will have another chance. And another. Until we are whole." Their embrace tightened and their lips pressed against one another.

"I call on the tribe to extinguish the flame that burns it!"

"We will meet again." They promised each other in words, blood and fire.

"I call on this tribe to take the life of Bold as Sky."

The wrenching cry from Screams like a Man could not be heard over the bloodlust cries of nearly half the tribe that had been carried into He Who Sees words. They rose forth, rocks, spears and cookery clenched in waving fists, so enraged with flame and words that they could not see where one of the boys ended and the other begun. It was as if they had melded into one body. But a riot has no mind, only rage, so they plowed onwards, beating, clawing and biting at the mass of blood, crazed.

When finally, the mob tired and recessed, there was very little left of what had once been two boys. Instead they one. One mass of flesh and blood, a trampled twined beast, bonded together by barely recognizable limbs. It was a monstrous thing that they had made. A beast of agony, carved of violance. Blue eyes had disappered into caved in skulls. There blood stained the ground and the fire blazed behind the scene, casting frightening shadows and flickering vivid images of human desecration.

And the group mind realized what it had done. Taken the pure with the impure and they knew that they were lost. Still moving as one, they turned on He Who Sees.

"Stop."

The mass turned toward the fire where an old woman leaned over what had once been the Star Children.

"Do not bother with him. He was only doing what he thought was right. We need no more blood on our hands. Go back to your dwellings and pack. Our time here is over, we have poisoned the land with our rage. We will follow the herd again."

Somehow her words reached their ears and slowly, the mass disbanded. Disoriented and confused, the day would pass into a thing of night tales around camp fires, unreal even to those who had lived it. The two mourning mothers never fully recovered and on the trail they fell behind again. She Who Limps and Short of Leg.

She Who Speaks lead them onwards, a strong and tireless leader, but when they found a new place to live, full of promise and vigor, she grew frail once more. She had led the people out of the place of blood, but she had taken some of it with her. The bodies of the boys were buried under the old firepit, but she had taken the blood that had been let during the torture and filled a skin full of it.

And in the darkness of the night when she felt herself dying a little more, she touched the skin. The blood stayed red and warm to the touch all the old days and nights. She whispers prayers in the darkness.

"As long as this blood stays fresh, let them live." She would say, over and over again. "Let them be together."

But there are many obstacles in the way of prayer to the ears of those who would listen and grant them. And one painful death is not enough to earn life times of happiness. So let them have trials. Let them have obstacles. Give them millennium of hardship, of separation that could be broken. Let them strive to be together. And when they are, grant them peace at last.

Because even the gods are compelled by two bleeding boys, only a day from their first hunt, wrapped tight in their arms, their words a kiss between them,

"We will meet again."

*****************