A boy looked at the stars with that glowing shine in his eyes. A few steps away, near the horses, which were eating their grass peacefully, in the warm night, stood the Father.
– Father, are those the distant fires of other people? – asked the boy. Father said nothing; he just started walking towards the horses.
– A big fire during the day, a little one during the night. Just like us, Father. During the day they put out their fires and keep the heat with the big one, and at night they light them up again. I just don't understand how they carry their fires and how the big one moves?
– My son, you and your questions have grown up. You are the best hunter and armour maker in our tribe. It is time you find a wife and have children so that the questions pass your mind. And this one, with fires, could only know the Old-one, which lives under the Ice Mountain near the Great River. A long time a go a terrible disease came over our tribe and we sent out a man to get advice from the Old-one. He helped, we got better. Yes, he would know, if he is still alive.
– …tomorrow begins a terrible battle with the other tribe, just because they crossed over the Father's land.
The son leaned on his back and started thinking again.
– The fires keep on shining. And moving. Or is it us that are moving? How would they carry the fire? How could anybody carry and they put out the great fire?
– I know how you are and where you come from. Your father is loosing the battle and will fall into slavery. That is what he deserves, he should have let them pass in peace. And now tell me, what is it you want to know?
– Could I save my father if I turn back now?
– No, it is a long way back, but that's not the reason you came to see me, tell me.
– The fires in the sky … what are these fires, and which tribes light them each night?
– It is a great mystery. But you are the best of all tribes. And I am old. Stay here, and you will find out everything, and do something important. Later.
– Now you know everything – said the Old-one – including my language, our language. The "fires" brought you to me, it would only be fair that you bring them to me. Damned the Great War and the negligence that will come after it! But somewhere out there, in the direction of the Northern star, our people are a colony, sent by the organisation of the United Nations just before the war. Go to them now, and tell them there are more people, tell them about negligence, they will understand.
The tribe watched in fear how a part of the Ice Mountain was tearing itself apart from the land and with a lot of noise and a flame was heading towards the stars.
Translation: Vedran Kranjcevic