Fighting for Faith; Before.
"System down, system down, I repeat, I am going down!" The ship was burning through the atmosphere, while he held the controls of the ship. The atmosphere burned through and made the heat shield start to glow a light red, and the wings started to smoke and burn. The ship was moving faster than it should have, and the thick jungle plane below gave little choice in where to land. So he aimed best he could and prayed, while his body braced itself for impact. One minute remained for him, given the trajectory, and the way the engines continued to power up without orders to. The system started to flicker, as he reached for the Eject button. The system sparked and started to spark, but it didn't eject.
"Dammit!" He reached his hand down towards his emergency kit, and slid his hand inside, feeling about. He had his med kit, and then he found what he was looking for, and he pulled the gun out, and fired at the window above. The bullets glinted off of it and slammed into the back of his seat, but he continued fired, before the thing finally cracked hard, and broke open. He tossed the spent gun away and grabbed the pack, before he pulled himself up from the seat and pulled himself through the broken window. The parachute was ready to be pulled. He stood upon the broken hood of the high orbit ship, and looked long into that dark jungle, then he leapt off, his right hand clutching to the emergency kit, and his left reaching for the twine to his pack. He pulled it, and the chute jerked, making his shoulders wrench and his hand dropped the emergency kit.
The vehicle plummeted down as he held onto the twines of his parachute, the long vehicles engines firing up into full speed before it slammed point first into the jungle below, and exploded, leaving a long trace of flame that plumed up into the air. His parachute began to descend quickly, a bit more than he had hoped it would, and when he looked up, he saw the rent in the nylon fabric, which was starting to widen. He slid his
weight forward, and, two hundred feet high, he felt the rush of air as it started to pull him down farther and faster. The ground rushed up to meet him as the parachute split in half, and he began to plummet, while still a hundred feet from the ground, but thankfully, a branch caught him, and a merciful darkness took him over.
The scent of cooking meat, and the scent of herbs being slowly roasted made him jerk awake, much to his chagrin. His head throbbed and his body fell backwards again, while feeling the throbbing inside of his boy started to make his bones hurt, and his brain felt like pulverized sausage against her senses. It too was not pleasant to feel these strange sensations that made his body tingle, and his left leg, worse, felt numb. He did not dare look at the leg, for fear of not seeing something.
"Hello, Angel." The voice was a soft one, yet it was enough to make his head turn away from the darkness he had been staring at, and see the light, see the shape that walked towards him softly. Her body was clung to by a long cloth, and her hands were carrying herbs, which smelled sickly sweet. His mouth felt dry from the smell, and a hunger in his stomach added to the pain of his body. "We are honored you lived. It has been six cycles of the sun, and you finally awaken."
He gazed up, but her image was blurred, especially when she set the herbs in the small cooking fire. The scent filled the hut, and a long trail of gray smoke added to the haze. He felt the weight of her body beside on the long cot, and groaned as she touched him. "We do not know how you lived, but we found you alive, though you left a mess of the jungle behind, in your wake. A servant of the Great One, you are called, garbed in glory. Yet, like us, you are fragile." She spoke to him reverently, as though he were a holy being. He could have laughed, were he in a better mind, right now he could only groan.
"You will heal, honored guest. Your body is weak from the fall, as the shaman says, but these herbs will dull the fire. You will be safe here, wise one from the Great Spirit." She slowly lifted her body up from the cot, and soon, he was in the hazed darkness again, where the only breaks was her company, with water and herbs to dull the pain.
Time passed, and he awoke one day, with only the soreness and weakness of his body met with only the great hunger inside of him, and the wanton need from his stomach for something with substance than the fresh, cool water he had drank for so long. He pulled himself from the cot he had been resting on, and then slowly lifted up his body, which felt woozy and his left leg slid down, he unable to support himself on it. A look down, and a finger prod, he felt the twisted leg, puffed still. But after a moment, he pulled himself back up, using a long staff left for him to walk on, and he pulled his body out of the hut, into the silent village outside.
"And the Great Spirit made the world with a breath, and cast it unto the darkness, commanding that we, its children, stand strong and command the' world. We must go forth and descend down, as a ravage, upon the tribes to the south, for they commit great acts of evil and defilement unto the Maker!" The voice was strong and good, whilst the enraptured men and women of the tribe looked on. It was there, when he gazed long at the gathered, he realized that things were much different now.
For each and everyone was clasped in long green, gold, and brown scales, and each of them looked long towards the great speaker, who wore long robes, opened, and spoke in a riveting hiss. Yet the language was relatively simple, and almost in the range of rudimentary, and it was enough for the implant in his right ear to pick up the basics of the tongue, so he could come to comprehend them. The language was soothing, but his body, the hunger in him, drove him onwards towards the gathered mass. Of course, how he could speak to them is more difficult to explain. This being a short story, its not worth to write about.
"Gather your spears, for in the next morning, we shall march upon them, and bring death in our wake." He hissed, and calmed as he gazed upon the angel whom was approaching the gathered, nearby the great fire pit. The long tail of the shaman gestured, and then snapped it once, while a pair of bound prisoners were brought forth towards the long wooden bridge, towards the open sides that lead towards the long flame.
"Now, these prisoners shall be the first of the blood to spill." And seemingly from nowhere he drew a knife, long and twisted copper it was, and pushed one to a kneel. The eyes all watched as he held the blade and pulled the head back of the shivering lizard. "Die, disgraceful one, die and be forgotten."
The knife never fell to the throat, for a hand gripped the blade and held tight, though the metal bit in deep for how sharp it was. A gasp came out, as the human of torn clothing stood and gripped the blade, angry at the sight, though it was not of his people. He knew he had violated the order of his people, but right now, the order could be damned. The shaman drew back while the human held the blade, and watched to see what the messenger would do. And to his anger, and surprise, the blade was then used to cut the twined fabric. The prisoners both watched, amazed at this, before they ran quickly, past the guards who were stunned.
The gathered looked upon the bleeding man of heaven, and watched as he cast the valuable copper knife into the flames, to see it land and stay with the broken, scorched bones of prior sacrifices. All eyes watched the strange one, who turned to face the shaman, and held his hand up, letting him see the blood.
"That is your sacrifice, if you must sacrifice someone. It is wrong to kill someone, even if they are your enemy." He felt his leg give out and slid to a knee, the staff clattering to the ground beside, and his bleeding hand gripped the wound of his leg He felt all eyes on him, and fought for the strength to stand. "There is no need to kill a prisoner." He bit back a painful sound as he pulled himself back up, and leaned heavily on the staff.
"Who are you, if you deny the maker his meal." The shaman spat back, while his claws dug into the wooden sides. The human looked back just as evenly, while feeling the wind cut slightly through his torn jump suit. Yet his eyes looked long, long into the lizards own, seeking to see what was inside. "The maker demands the blood of our enemies, or he shall smite us for our disregard. You damn us." The people looked nervous, each and every, eyes gazing between the strange man from the stars, and the shaman, who had guided them for so long.
"No, I do not damn them." He felt the weight of his suit then, and his right hand fell up to the chest, to feel the medicines held inside, and the right breast, which held the book he had carried upon him, since his first wreck in space. "I..." He opened the zipper, and looked inside, to the thin black book that held so much.
"I was sent to save them." He murmured, while looking back up towards the gathered, he did not know why he said it, but it felt right. Now, he felt weak and small before the strong creatures, the creatures of a world that was not his own. His eyes looked long upon the gathered, who looked on with care. But he stood strong.
"I come... I was sent to save you." And then he felt his leg give out, and his body slid down to the ground, his head hit the wood, but the book did not leave his grip, it could not leave it for the moment, his life depended on it. He was lifted then by two others, who carried him off at the gesture of a larger male to the side, and he was carried to his hut, carefully.
When he woke up, he was within the same hut again, but his eyes beheld the large one, who had told two others to carry him away. Before him, the being sat, while sharpening the flint spear in his grip with his claw tips, and he taking his time to make sure it was nicely sharp. At his right leg sat his daughter, the female who had carried water to him so many times, so long ago. She was watching the man from the stars, while her long fingered, clawed hand held the black book.
"Welcome, Man from Above, we are glad to see you about again, but what you did was rather shocking. None have touched the shaman in a great deal of time in such a manner. Nor has anyone interrupted the sacrifice in just as long." The chieftain looked up upon the human, who felt a wave of nausea over him. "You are brave, and you show courage, far more than our shaman has shown in battle. Well then, welcome, friend, we are glad to have a guest, especially one, as my daughter speaks, from the heavens.
He furrowed his brow in thought, before noticing the food which had been lain out for him, and he reached a hand down to pull it, and the cooked vegetables beside it. With a sigh and a smile, he bit into it, and started to consume the fresh, salty meat and the sweetened vegetables which tasted better than he had remembered food to have tasted.
"My daughter says you nearly landed upon her, as though a great jungle cat. But she took you to the village, we are glad to see you awake after sixteen passes. You have been woozy, and on the herb, since you awoke, I am glad to finally meet you myself. May I know your name?"
The human opened his mouth to speak, before a sound from outside made him close it, and the shaman to walk outside to see what was the problem, much to the exasperation of the two left. The human and the daughter faced one another, for a moment, but said nothing, as though shy children would.
And so it began, as they found themselves smiling, and then chuckling, and then laughing... together.