The Last Days of Pangea

– Greetings to all! – honored the leader and answered the senior sentinel: – Thank you, my friend, I’m full. And I ask you to be careful. Ana, Varn and Hord will help you.

Hord nodded affirmatively.

«Yes, sir, everything will be all right!» – chewing, mumbled the hunter. Don’t worry about the village! As long as I live, not a single lizard will set foot in our abode.

«May the spirits of Zavrini help you,» the leader patted the senior watchman on the shoulder and immediately headed towards the entrance to the cave. Hord and Inga followed him.

– Roshan! – turned after the hunter. «I’m very worried about the hunting parties, Roshan. And Salas is there. Do you think what happened last night did not disturb the reptiles?

«Hmm…» the leader hesitated. «I didn’t even think about it, Radon. But I really hope that the units are all right. Has your young man grown up? Did Zavrini’s eyes appear to him? Roshan asked without remembering.

Not yet, but I’m sure it will happen soon. This is his first hunt.

«I believe, my friend, everything is fine with them!» – encouraged the leader. «Pangea and the spirits will help them!»

«Yes, chief, I hope so too. May Pangea help your soul in unity! – the sentinel blessed and immediately turned to the young hunters: – Barda, Veles, you will stay here at night, with the elders. Wisdom exercise, maybe they will tell you something interesting. And you will guard the entrance to the cave like your younger brothers! Few things can happen…

***

The road to the Temple of the Creator – to the Abode of Unity – lay through a long underground corridor. In the middle of the path, the corridor branched into a labyrinth of three channels, one of which – the one to the left – was the longest, a hundred paces. The channel led to the edge of the ledge to the abyss, and after another ten steps along it along a narrow cliff, the road again deepened into the sleeve of the dungeon. The first people once wanted to explore the abyss, but the stones and torches thrown into it were lost in the ravine, leaving neither sounds nor reflections of light. Therefore, everyone refused to descend blindly, even the most daring pathfinders. The dangerous gap along the cliff did not inspire confidence even in the most dexterous tribesmen, so this branch of the labyrinth remained in total darkness and was not used.

The approach to the Temple from the right side also turned out to be extremely inconvenient. In some places, it narrowed into narrow corridors, which either crushed from above, up to crawling, or forced to crowd between the walls, scratching on the sharp contours of the relief.

The relatives fenced off these two dubious moves. But the path that passed in the middle led along a moderate tunnel without any obstacles and slopes, straight into a huge underground grotto – the Temple of the Creator, and the tunnel was equipped only in this sleeve: the road was illuminated by lights driven into the walls along its entire length.

After some time, Roshan and his companions arrived at the place. There was light in the vast cave. A dozen torches illuminated the grotto, and coniferous incense created by Inga created a feeling of comfort and peace. Somewhere under the grotto, in the inaccessible warehouses of the dungeon, a stream splashed – the same one that was in full swing in the settlement. The barely audible murmur of the brook broke the silence of the Abode of Unity and gave the cave a mood of mystery and captivity.

On the walls of the Temple of the Creator, in addition to the knowledge that the elders-wise men and experienced pathfinders left to their descendants in the form of rock carvings and drawings of life, mystical ornaments were imprinted everywhere – symbols of the first people. Sacred symbols that were carved by hunters and shamans on fishing tools carried a special human design that influenced the spirit, capable of awakening the mysterious element of flame, which the leader Roshan once knew in unity with Pangea. He knew and taught other relatives to know. And to those who were able to master the flame and suddenly realized the carved message of the symbol, the elements gave incredible ardor, and the plan instantly became feasible!

On one of the ledges, where the stone relief was flatter and smoother, the leaders of the hunting parties drew a path to the Great Volcano, and each time after the Great Hunt they drew new explored areas. After many moons, a small sketch turned into a real map of hunting trails. It depicted detours of wooded ridges – former roads traveled, former pastures of herbivores, beds of small streams in a grove of araucaria and other landmarks. On the walls, the relatives denoted all kinds of reptiles that they met in the lands of Pangea. With the help of drawings, the tribesmen described their habits – warnings of danger and dispositions for friendliness. And on one ledge, a whole story of Zavrini was carved, which the day before was told to teenagers at the fire by Roshan and Khord. The Temple also kept relics of ancestors (including those discovered during nomadism): colorful fancy shells, which, according to the sages, were once found by the great-grandfathers of the ancestors near the northern shores of raging waters, petrified traces that an experienced hunter once noticed, broken weapons and various bone remains. True, the identity of the latter has not been established exactly.

Pointed formations – stalactites – hung everywhere from the tops of the grotto. For those who visited the Abode of Unity for the first time, the menacing stalactites aroused eerie distrust, and it seemed that the stone gouges were about to collapse on their heads. But since the founding of the Temple of the Creator, not one of the stalactites has even moved. Shamans and elders eventually got used to ugly warehouses and stopped paying attention to them long ago.

In the middle of the dungeon, the rocky terrain underfoot smoothly turned into a small island of earthen soil with a thick moss cover. A lone piece of land stood out noticeably among the stone forms of the cave and seemed to have been equipped by Pangea itself for the ritual of unity. Inga had put a leather bedding on the islet in advance, and next to the fire, the broth was cooling in a vat.

«I will inspect the fences, Roshan,» Hord warned and headed towards the dark niche of the Temple of the Shaper.

«I’m sure they haven’t moved,» the chief replied. «But still look around, I’ll be calmer.»

The dungeon labyrinth didn’t end at Unity Hall. Within the grotto, on its other side, there was another passage that led to a similar cave, but much larger than the Temple. Dozens of tunnels were located in this cave, and the path through them was not explored. The first people were afraid of underground creatures that live and weave webs deep in the depths of the Great Volcano – gigantic creatures, continuations of the original lives. They appeared in the light of the Great Fire, but over time they did not like its rays, and they went underground, where darkness and dampness reigned. In order to protect themselves from this living creature, which the shamans saw near the tunnels inadvertently, and then briefly, the tribesmen decided to erect barriers at the entrance to the labyrinths. And on the barriers of these fixed horns. Staring into the impenetrable darkness, the goats guarded the rest of the first people from insects of creatures, and the high grotto before entering the kingdom of creatures was declared the Abode of Unity – the Temple of the Creator. A place where elders and leaders gathered to discuss real difficulties and future affairs, hunters and shamans – to know the flame of Pangea and the secrets of the unknown.

The leader took off his outer garment, beads, and, cross-legged, sat down on the mat. Inga placed small vats around him and placed resin candles in them. Then the healer gave Roshan a potion.

– Are you worried? the old woman asked.

– Yes a little…

When was the last time you were in unity with Her? I have already forgotten that past day when I gave you this potion to drink…

– In the camp near the liana forests. We went to a ravine in new lands, I was looking for a way, as it turned out – here, to the Great Volcano, – the shaman reminded.

The old woman smiled.

«And now the Zavrinis are driving us out. That’s the way things are… I hope you can figure it out! I like it here, and I don’t have the strength to wander anymore, Roshan. When will we find shelter for our descendants?

– Don’t worry, Inga, we’ve already found him. He’s here at the Great Volcano! the leader exclaimed.

The sorceress smiled. «We will stay where we are,» Roshan said. «At least now we have no reason to leave the camp.

Here the shaman sniffed the broth and looked inquiringly at the old woman.

«Come on, drink, my boy,» she said. – I added something there. Don’t worry, have a drink! As soon as you feel warm, tell me – I will light the candles.

The red flowers of the swamp fern were the strongest poison, but they tasted and smelled quite sweet. Roshan immediately smelled the familiar captivating aroma, so he hesitated. The fruits of plants could send anyone to eternal sleep, but with other healing herbs, the names and recipes of which only Inga understood, they were only supposed to accelerate the relaxation of the mind and body. The sorceress was certain of this!

As soon as the bowl was empty, the woman sat closer to Roshan and hugged him. The shaman responded by gently stroking the old woman’s back.

– Be careful with the stars! They are beautiful, but we know nothing about them,» the old woman whispered.

«Everything will be fine, Inga,» Roshan answered. «And the potion is fast-acting!»

– What? Already? the healer asked in surprise and stared with her green eyes at the leader’s eyeballs. – I added quite a bit of red flower. Didn’t think so…

– Set it on fire! Roshan interrupted her.

The shaman’s gaze slowly swam.

– Yes, I see. May Pangea keep your soul in unity,» Inga admonished.

The leader lowered his eyelids, nodding. The sorceress took a torch and lit the candles, and then carefully placed the dried roots of a bundle leaf on each candle. The roots began to smolder little by little, spreading a pleasant smelling aroma throughout the expanses of the Temple.

– Hord, old, where are you? It is time! What are you stuck in there? Inga said.

– I’m coming! – Returning from the passage with the barriers, the old man answered. – Checked the horns. Roshan, everything is whole, like…

«Shh, shut up, old man!» the woman interrupted. – Let’s go outside. We don’t belong here anymore.

An experienced hunter helped the old woman to her feet.

– So soon? he whispered, looking at Roshan.

«A red flower…» Inga whispered thoughtfully. I’ll dilute it more next time…

«May Pangea help your soul in unity!» – the elder barely audibly blessed the leader and, together with Inga, left the cave.

***

Silence reigned in the Temple of the Creator. Under the influence of the healer’s decoction, Roshan fell into a dream, but thoughts in a dream remained subject to him. Focusing his thoughts on the stars, the shaman embodied before him the events of the past night, and in the realm of oblivion, the radiance of the heavenly bodies appeared before the gaze of the leader. Penetrating deeper and deeper into the world of dreams, Roshan was able to see every moment in the night sky, which disturbed him the day before. He again saw the glow of heavenly fires and their crowding, a strange nebula, a flash of the skies and a red star. And in order to be among the stars during the time of unity, Roshan needed to keep the manifestation of memories as long as possible. The shaman recreated passages of the previous night over and over again, going over the details of what he had seen in his mind.

Meanwhile, smoldering herbs filled the grotto with aromas, and the distant bursts of an underground source and the crackle of blazing lights in immaculate silence gradually became more expressive. The peaceful atmosphere of the Temple seemed to revive and, having overcome the limits of the possible, slowly approached the dream of the leader. It squeezed in a thin mist through the nostrils and auricles straight into Roshan’s mind, and in his dream he felt the smell of incense and the murmur of the stream. The sound and flavor of reality mingled in oblivion with the embodiment of what was presented, blurring the line between the recreated past and present. Thus, in a stream of perfect harmony, reality penetrated into the manifestation of the past and awakened the flow of prana in the Temple of the Creator.

The leader felt how She quiveringly touched his bare feet with her fibers. Then Her touch rose a little higher and embraced the ankles. Life threads in the form of thin stems of plants unseen in Her abode, breaking through from the ground cover of the Temple, began to envelop the body of the leader in numerous beginnings. Squeezing through the cut of the robe on the hips, they were already crawling along the naked torso and, branching into dozens of processes, continued to excite a surge of energy in the camp of the man. A moment later, the same fibers, escaping from the ground nearby, touched the tips of the fingers. First, they clasped the phalanxes, and then, confidently moving to the palms and not slowing down for a moment, reached out to the shaman’s shoulders.

The leader raised his eyelids. The irises of his eyes turned black like night and merged with the pupils, and the whites filled with a scarlet glow!

On the reliefs of the grotto, the shadows from the light of the flame of candles and torches have disappeared. The surroundings of the Temple faded, and a red nebula formed everywhere. Suddenly around, at a distance of the shaman’s outstretched hand, sources of glow flared up. Bright multi-colored tiny lights, now connecting with each other, then avoiding collisions, with incredible swiftness began to randomly circle around. Those that merged together, pushed out one by one into the expanses of the cave in the form of extinguished particles. The remnants of the lights slowly settled on the rock paintings and in the cavities of the carved symbols of the first people throughout the Temple of the Creator, and those sources of glow that never touched, like swamp mosquitoes, divided into small flocks and hung in the space of the grotto.

Meanwhile, the fibers of life reached the head of the leader, and a radiance radiated from the stems of the creator. It covered the entire cave, engravings and paintings on the walls of the Temple of the Creator blazed with green flames. Roshan was overtaken by unity with Pangea – his soul left the flesh and turned into an essence…

Primal hunt

The rays of the Great Fire illuminated the hunting trails of the first people. The Giver of Warmth rose high into the sky and hovered over the Bennettite field, breathing new day into the endless expanse of a recently created world. From mountain ranges to dense palm-like plains, from swamps and arid steppes to coniferous and liana forests, from deep lakes and fast-flowing rivers to impenetrable jungles and thickets of araucaria – Fire embraced everything, and only the raging waters washing the shores of Her creations remained on the dark side light alone with the cold stars and the moon. In the midst of the abundance of impregnable and unexplored nature, in every inspiration of its creator, the life of the then inhabitants, from young to old, was in full swing: huge dragonflies, horned beetles, colorful butterflies and other marvelous living creatures buzzed everywhere in flocks; buzzing, chirping and chirping, they created a universal rumble that carried to the most secluded corners of the mysterious, sometimes dangerous and unknown abode of all living things. Even the cave creatures that had abandoned the Great Fire heard the alluring singing of their relatives, but hostility to the rays of the luminary left the once reigning species in the dark labyrinths of rocky volcanoes.

Somewhere in the fields near the boulders, jumping out of the grass after low-flying butterflies, from time to time the heads of small cold-blooded ones showed up. Expecting easy prey, bipedal carnivores, squeaking, hid among the young shoots of the cycad and occasionally climbed small hills to catch the smells of something edible brought by the wind. Larger lizards tried not to give themselves away, and only by swaying grass or bushes could one understand that they were somewhere out there – hunting down their own kind in order to feed their offspring, or hiding so as not to become prey for others.

On this most ordinary day, from the outskirts of the liana forest into the bennettite field, the most ordinary inhabitant of this world came out to graze – a dark blue herbivorous Longneck. But he didn’t leave of his own accord. Hunters contributed to this. Noisy and occasionally appearing before the giant’s eyes, they deliberately forced the creature to leave the thickets. Huge, fifteen or twenty paces from head to tail and almost ten in height considering the length of the neck, Long Neck felt the presence of people. But the good-natured reptile did not suspect why they had come. She nibbled on the grass and leaves of the ginkgo trees, sometimes stopping and warily looking at the thickets around her.

If this herbivore were Tailtail or Razorthorn, he would have long ago made those who disturbed his peace flee, but Longneck’s temperament, unusually for a lizard, was too soft and affable. Taking advantage of this, the beaters-pathfinders lured him into the field with hunting tricks, since the dense vine forest was not the best place for the Big Hunt: huge boulders lay everywhere, mighty trees with trunks, vines and roots tearing the soil created countless obstacles, preventing archery or throwing a spear. And the frequent fern thickets were fraught with dangers: small and large predators were regulars in the cool forests, and they would certainly take the opportunity to hunt along with people, and at the same time on them! For these reasons, the lizard ended up here alone, in full view, and the same beaters were furtively following him.

A teenager and an adult man were dressed in vestments made of thin reptile skins – windings that covered the genitals and some parts of the body: the hands to the elbows and the legs from the ankles to the very knees. Above the robes, except for the area of the hips and torso, were green-painted protective shells – hunting armor made from the bones of various, mostly herbivorous lizards. The shells protected vulnerable places, and in the event of an attack by predators, at least they did not allow their powerful jaws to close.

The tall, broad-shouldered hunter was much older than his compatriot. His fiery curls, collected in an armful at the top of his head, were held by a hairpin made from the tooth of a small lizard. Her hair gradually grew into a curly beard, from which, like a vine, a neatly braided pigtail hung down. The beater’s once broken nose resembled a Raptor’s claw. This disadvantage, obtained by negligence, did not disfigure the appearance at all, but only emphasized the pointed features of the face. In the man’s right ear hung an earring made from the fangs of various reptiles. The spike of the Sharpthorn protruded from the left, and beads made from the teeth of herbivorous lizards adorned the neck. The ranger’s large brown eyes blended with the tinge of scaly skin. And if it were not for the whites of the eyes, then on the swarthy face the eyes would have remained completely inconspicuous. The whole body of the hunter from birth was covered with small clay-colored specks. The shamans of the first people believed that these spots were a talisman of the Great Fire, and judging by the barely noticeable scars on the areas of the legs and arms of the red-haired man that were not protected by shells, this superstition was quite justified: the one who bore the name Taro on free hunting fell into the abode of carnivores more than once, and although inattention cost many lives, he got only small bites and cuts.

The second beater was very young, but this did not prevent him from getting on the Big Hunt. The narrowed blue eyes of a teenager were separated by a wide bridge of nose, a narrow forehead smoothly turned into small spiked growths, and between them stretched light, combed back hair that barely reached the neck. The pale skin tone of the youngster did not succumb to the rays of the Great Fire, and the bright drawings on the bare parts of the body and face harmoniously merged with the painted armor. Unlike the usual daub on the protective shells of Taro, the work of the young Salas on his own body and armor bore a mysterious design that generates the element of flame. But despite the similarity with the engraving of shamans and hunters, skillfully applied symbols and silhouettes of lizards served only as decoration and disguise and did not affect the teenager’s human ardor in any way.

Armed with bows and spears, with leather bags and quivers over their shoulders, the first men cautiously crept up to Longneck. Suddenly, Salas stumbled and almost fell to the ground.

– Hush hush! Look under your feet. He already knows that we are watching him. You’ll scare me, and you’ll have to drive on a new one! – Taro warned the young man and climbed onto the giant cycad.

The immense trunks of cycads, by the way, were slightly taller than adults, and the branches growing along the edges at the end of the trunk, densely strewn with large yellow-green leaves, fanned out towards the Great Fire and created shelter. Towering above the grass, cycads in the field served as excellent observation points, thereby allowing them to inspect the surroundings without falling into the eyes of reptiles.

«Maybe I want to scare him!» Salas was outraged. How can we hunt them? Look, this giant won’t hurt a beetle. Old man Hord recently told at the fire how the same lizard allowed himself to be stroked…

The soul of young Salas was tormented by dislike for predators and pity for herbivores. Why the will of Pangea and the instructions of the ancestors instructed to arrange crafts only for harmless creatures – a question that haunted him. In addition, this was his first hunt, and Salas did not yet understand hunting matters at all.

Radon, the senior watchman and relative of Salas, understood that the time had come for the offspring to test himself on the hunter’s path as a beater. The youngster was shining with the third hundred moons, and he was about to recognize in himself the feelings of Zavrin – the eyes and premonition that the first people got from rational ancestors. Shaman Vall approved the request and took the youth to the squad under the supervision of Taro. Vall, of course, was aware of Salas’ prejudice against herbivorous lizards, but he was sure that the Great Hunt would make a real man out of him! If he copes with the corral, then next time be his assistant on patrol. And then – a free hunter. If he wants to, he will be able to leave the settlement without the knowledge of the leaders, and there, on a free hunt, he will mature and learn premonition and the ability to see. See through the eyes of reptiles.

For four days, the shaman’s squad scoured the unfamiliar paths of the liana forest in search of prey and constantly went out to the Vultures, then to small predators. But the first people avoided both of them. Today, Longneck was tracked down, and Salas was upset about it. He really liked these creatures, and the exciting stories of the seasoned hunter Hord about herbivorous giants did cause strange feelings of attachment to such reptiles. But the youth understood that there was going to be a Great Hunt. And the young trackers from the detachment, in the event of a failure with the corral, will simply laugh at him. Or even worse – Vall or the leader, in front of everyone around the fire, will begin their tales about the unsuccessful hunt of one of the beaters. And Salas wanted that least of all.

Taro, an experienced hunter who drove more than one giant, was cold-blooded and unshakable. He tried to ignore the youngster’s impulses and not be distracted. Moreover, he was responsible for the child, which Taro considered Salas, and at the same time all those who, instead of scars on their bodies and faces, had useless drawings of being and far-fetched victories over lizards. Yes, carnivores often attacked fickle camps, but since ancient times, shamans and those who have lived for thousands of moons have been repeating: «To live in harmony is the plan of Pangea! Herbivores are a gift to us in the womb to exist in this world. Predators and Vultures are the eternal keepers of the balance of Her abode. And our first ancestors, the Razaurs, who did not accept Zavrin, who did not succumb to the will of the creator and were doomed to be soulless, are a reminder to the first people of who they are now and who they were. Killing the carnivores and the doomed for the sake of saving human life is a good deed! And for the sake of food or self-interest – it is tantamount to killing one’s own kind! And the Tarot unquestioningly honored the instructions and precepts of the wise.