***
Chahzuu stood just inside the opening of the grotto. The falling water crashed down over the entrance while inside the ferns dripped moisture to which he held his mouth, replenishing his parched body. He was famished with hunger and moved around the waterfall onto the ledge. The light overhead brightly illuminated the forest even down at this level. It must surely have been hours he’d lain as one who was dead. He couldn’t tell for sure. If his hunger was any indication, it could have been a couple of days. Like his thirst, his body was in bad need of sustenance from the ordeal it had gone through.
Just thinking about what the stripping had felt like made him cringe. Now he must do something. He had to stop Nemesis. The question was how? Everything Chahzuu knew had been imparted to Nemesis. He worried for his people. They were a race of destiny which now could easily be led disastrously astray if Nemesis got to them before he could.
Moving over to a plant he recognized, he dug at the root, pulled it out then held it in the waterfall, rubbing it briskly to clean away the soil. Chahzuu held it to his mouth, gnawing on an end, tasting bitterness as the juices were forced out. The bitterness faded as his eyes became distant and he began contemplating what he must do.
What were his options? He continued to gnaw on the root and sat down. Moving through the forest without any definite plan would be counterproductive. His first impulse was to rush back to his people. Even as he considered that, he knew, somewhere inside, it was already too late. His breast warmed and his eyes widened as he glanced down seeing a strange glowing aura of warmth radiate from within. Then he knew how he knew: The Stone.
If he couldn’t stop this Pale one his people would be lost! Darkness threatened to crowd in. The knowledge he had held would be the cause. Setting out to save his people, he had possibly brought about their ruin. He must do something!
For a long time only the crashing of the falling water invaded the deep privacy of Chahzuu's thoughts, all just as jumbled and clashing. Even before he’d started, his dream had come true! The Pale One of his dream had killed him, and was, even now, bringing about the ruin of his people.
It had happened, if not in the exact same way, the players were all the same. The events which he’d always dreaded were surely occurring. He’d never make it back to his people in time to stop Nemesis from claiming them.
What of the Guardians? They had told him there was still a chance. That his dreams weren't the truth, exactly, but an image of what could be. An echo of the future, not what must be.
Chahzuu jumped to his feet, breathing deeply in excitement. Maybe all was not lost! His dream had changed! There was a chance, and he must seize it! He concentrated, wondering what that chance might be. And then the thought occurred to him. If his dream about his death had been wrong -- at least so far -- there was still something he could do for his people. Maybe Nemesis hadn't gotten to them. Maybe the Stone was telling him what might happen if he didn't hurry back to his people.
Then thought and feeling washed over him again. It’s too late. Nemesis has already been to my people, they are his now. He didn’t know how he knew, but knew with a profound assurance that he couldn’t deny.
Again it’s the Stone! It was all so new. He knew the Stone had power, wasn't sure what that power was or how he could draw it out.
His mind went back to the records and legends which now Nemesis had access to by virtue of his memories. There must be something!
Guilt tore at his soul again. It’d been his fault. Nemesis had all his knowledge to use against them. Anything he tried would be anticipated.
But he doesn’t know I’m alive. That one thought bolstered him.
Chahzuu continued to think. I must approach him from an unexpected direction. If he’s taken my people using their destiny against them to his own ends, then I must take them and put them back on the path they must truly follow.
He started to pace on the small ledge of the grotto’s opening, feeling his body continuing to recover.
Then it occurred to him. There was something in the oldest of records. Just a shred, even as it was, but there was hope in that. They weren’t related to the legends of his people being Pontu’ Gi. They were just old writings by an ancient Chahkzaa, not related to anything in particular, and so Nemesis wouldn’t have any context for them. He wouldn’t know their meaning, or at least he hoped he wouldn’t. They wouldn’t have any bearing on what he was trying to do with his people, so those memories would be jumbled among all the others of his life which had been stripped.
Those records had almost been discarded by the previous Chahkzaa, but Chahzuu had saved them by pleading so much that the Chahkzaa relented and gave them to him for study. It was contingent upon his promising he wouldn't neglect his other studies for the mere curiosities he was told were within those records. Chahzuu's thirst for knowledge made him think it was a curse to throw away anything that had to do with the attainment of ancient knowledge, no matter how frivolous it seemed.
The first step was to get out into open country and begin his thinking and planning. He thought best while moving through the trees.
Climbing off the ledge, he moved quickly back down the path through the overhanging jungle and over the vine and brush covered paving left by the ancients.