Chapter 44: Tale 4: Ch 10: The Prophet Walks

It took many hours to gather all the leaders of the minor races. Korrich and Traman had to go door to door to their residences. At Zel’s suggestion, all the rest of the people came along too, to enhance their argument. A person is more likely to cooperate when ten thousand people are waiting at their door. Korrich’s speeches helped as well.

This gave Zel time to recover in a nearby medical facility. The tiny and ill-equipped Haman hospital put all its effort into healing the man after Traman told them what he was planning to do. With their care and Zel’s power, the Prophet neared a full recovery, his skin returning to its normal, brown color.

It was almost sunset, but their work was done. In front of nearly a million people, all the leaders of the minor races gathered at the assembly point they’d been at that morning. “If this is a meeting,” one of the leaders remarked, looking to the other races around him with contempt. “Then why are we in the streets?”

“It’s a public meeting,” Korrich said, not wanting to give away his true intentions for gathering the men and women there.

“So when are we going to get started? Everyone’s here,” Villar of the Mills stated impatiently, putting her hands on her hips and looking around.

Zel came through the eager crowd behind the leaders. “Now,” Zel said, and took his place in front of the leaders, “Korrich, if you will.”

“Right,” Korrich said, and stood by the Prophet, whom the leaders had not identified yet. Traman couldn’t help but smile, standing next to the confused leader of the Brine. “I was going to say something about the glory of the moment, thousands of years of bloodshed, and unity and peace finally being fulfilled. But I’ll keep it simple. We’re here for a meeting, true, but it’s not here. We’re going to march to the Capital House and meet with Lord Councilor Davin Segrich.”

“What?” the leaders remarked in unison.

Korrich put his hands up to silence them. “Please, hear me out. We have fought amongst ourselves for power for too long. It has taken a full outsider to bring that to light for us. So I will let him speak.” Korrich stood to one side and beckoned for Zel to speak. Zel, however, looked shocked. He hadn’t prepared anything to say and didn’t want to ruin this gathering. “Go on.”

“What do I say?” Zel asked, for once not knowing what to do.

“Say it simply.” Korrich smiled, and Zel was left with no other option but to talk.

“I am Zel, Gold of the Sevens Prophets,” Zel said as the leaders froze in shock. “I know you hate me, but Traman has seen past that, and so has Korrich. Outside this planet, we’ve called this planet, a… a lost cause.” Zel thought of what to say and just blurted what came to mind, hoping it sounded strong-willed. “But I don’t. I, well, I came here hoping to unite you. Now you have that chance. We’ll see Segrich, and for the first time in this planet’s history we’ll talk peacefully to regain rights for the minor races.”

“You want us to charge the Capital House?” one leader asked.

“No, we’ll walk there,” Zel said.

“And when they try to kill us for crossing the barriers? You know the penalty for intrusion is death!” another shouted. “There’s no way we’ll get within two miles before we’re shot down.”

Zel responded by unsheathing his sword.

“Peace, for once in our history, my friends,” Korrich said. “The Cawns are united for it. The Hamans are coming for it. If we can look past our skin and voices, we can see we all want the same thing, and that is to live with the rights and families we deserve. We have made preparations for this, and all is ready save your willingness to try for peace, not dominance. If you want to take that chance, for once in your life, to make a difference without a bomb or shot, then come with me.”

Korrich started toward the Capital House. He stopped by Zel, took the Prophet’s free hand, and raised it high to show unity. “This way!” Korrich shouted.

They both began the long walk. Traman, still lined up with the other leaders, immediately followed after. A few seconds later, another went, a smile on her face. Then another shrugged, as if he didn’t care either way, followed by one looking curious. Then two more, then another, and finally all were running to catch up to their chance for peace and freedom. Two miles away.

Segrich stood on his balcony overlooking the empty streets. This was not right. The streets should be filled with frightened Cawns by then. Something had delayed their march, and Segrich didn’t like it. Reports said they’d been walking all over the city. Every attempt to pin them in had failed when they began moving again, his police staying quiet and a safe distance away, preparing for one final trap. The delay raked at Segrich’s nerves. He wanted this over and done with so his people could finally have peace.

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He contemplated calling off the soldiers, thinking the Cawns had found out and dispersed. Segrich stood and paced on his balcony as he wondered how difficult deporting them after that would be. Out in the distance, down the long street directly approaching the Capital House, Segrich saw a faint glow approach. He squinted his eyes to see. He made out a dozen or so shapes, but they were silhouetted against the blinding, golden light.

“Dane,” Segrich said, “get me my lens, please.”

A few seconds later, the advisor handed Segrich the lens tube. Segrich put it to his eye and blinked at what he saw. The leaders of the minor races were walking toward him. They had no soldiers, no weapons, save for the man holding the brilliantly glowing sword in front of them. Segrich bit down a curse.

“Korrich and Zel are still alive,” he said.

“There’s only a few of them,” Dane said as he put the lens to his eye. “We can arrest them easily.”

Segrich thought on this. Then a revelation hit him. Killing the leaders of all the minor races would leave them confused. He could push his ultimate peace to a quicker conclusion with the masses leaderless and broken. He smiled. “No, bring every gun to me. Dispose of them.”

Zel continued his walk, his body fully healed save for his mangled hands. They looked about ready to fall off, but gripped his sword with an unflinching strength.

“No shots yet,” Traman said suspiciously, looking around.

“That’s good, right?” a leader asked nervously.

One mile away.

“Be ready!” Zel shouted. “And no matter what, stay close and stay behind me.”

Not long after he’d said that, a shot rang out and echoed down the mall of buildings. Zel turned and deflected it right before it would have gone into Korrich’s skull. As if that were a signal, a dozen other shots rang out. Zel quickly went to work and swirled to protect the leaders.

“Everyone together!” Korrich shouted amidst the explosions. “Remember what we do this for. Stay with me and we’ll make it through!”

The leaders bunched together in a pack, holding hands to prevent them from separating.

Shots clanged and exploded as Zel easily protected the small gathering of men and women, the masses of Cawns left behind for their protection. Zel’s sweat flew across the air as he blocked shot after shot. Traman shouted, but quickly held it back again as blood sprayed on his face. Zel had been hit, but only lightly. The group pressed on.

“Not long now!” Korrich shouted.

“Should we run?” a leader asked.

“No! We walk. We need to show that we’re not afraid of death,” Traman said.

“But I am!” a leader shouted.

“Then pretend you’re not and keep going! Everyone push the other onward,” Traman said as Zel deflected a cannon blast. It shot back through a building and debris showered on the group, a dozen different skin tones melding together in a huddle of fear and determination. “And we’ll make it out of this!”

Zel jumped, ducked, and deflected with a glow that made him seem nothing more than a brilliant ball of gold, stopping all in his path. Many of the attackers ran out of ammunition. But the shots and explosions continued to pour onto the group.

The leaders reached the first intersection on the road to the Capital House, which loomed like a giant, well-cut and gem-studded white cake at the end of the street. Half a mile away.

Suddenly, screeching tires wheeled around the intersection. Troop trucks and armored vehicles with cannons mounted on top burst on the scene. The leaders gasped in fear.

“We’re dead!” shouted a leader.

“No peace is worth this!” shouted another.

“Hold!” Korrich shouted. “No one get away or all is lost! It’s everyone or no one!”

“I don’t want to die!”

Right before the men could open fire, two huge trucks blared down the road. The trailer-towing trucks were huge. The Bine and Cawn were forced to drive and transport Grichian toys with them. But now they crashed into opposite ends of the intersection with a slam and a crunch of metal amidst the multitudes of shots. They effectively cut off the other streets from the main. As the drivers, one a Cawn the other a Bine, ran away as fast as they could, Zel deflected one then another cannon shot toward those trucks. The rounds exploded against the vehicles and created a burning wall, freeing the leaders from facing all but the men guarding the Capital House itself.

Zel would have smiled, but he was concentrating too hard and hoped the drivers would get away. To his horror, a long-range shot rang out and the Cawn driver went down, bleeding. But the Bine driver ran over and helped the man up. Together, they ran back to safety.

“You see!” Korrich shouted. “The binds of peace are already forming!”

“I’m going to faint!” a leader cried desperately.

“Hold each other up! We’ve been through that we can make it through anything!” another leader shouted, her courage renewed.

One quarter mile away.

They neared the street the Capital House lay across. Zel continued to work furiously as not a scratch appeared on any of the bundled leaders. “We’re near! We should run!” one shouted.

“Hold still!” Traman shouted as more troop trucks and cannons came into position. Rapid guns came forward and soon the firing increased. Zel took a hit in the leg and blood splashed on the leaders as the sound of motorbikes came from behind them.

“That’s it I’m out of here!” a leader shouted.

“You stay right here!” another said, and held the fearful other in check.

At that moment, a dozen men and women of different races came and circled the leaders on bikes. They billowed smoke out their tailpipes and soon enveloped the leaders in a cloud that extended near to the gates of the Capital House. The bikers sped away quickly, not being fired upon as the confused guards shot randomly into the cloud.

With this cover, Zel was able to deflect the shots more easily. The attackers were blind, and shots rang in the ground all around the leaders. Only a few came in front of them, to be deflected by Zel’s glowing blade.

“I can’t see anything! Where’s the Capital House!” a leader shouted.

“It’s just ahead!” Korrich shouted.

“Where?”

“Follow the Prophet’s sword! And stick together!” another leader shouted.

“Don’t you break away now! Come on, Prophet, we’re almost there!” one of the leaders shouted.

One tenth of a mile away.