The Shadow balked at Toruk’s apparent bold attempt to withstand the Pond’s dark powers. So the creature quietly whispered to a nearby deer, ordering him to charge Toruk and push him into the Pond’s black waters to his death. The deer readily obliged, for it had long ago been corrupted by the Shadow’s poison.
The deer emerged from the darkness and at first, walked quietly behind Toruk, its slender legs poised, its delicate head periodically sniffing the frozen ground as it moved. It wrongly thought Toruk was both blind and deaf, unable to hear its dainty hooves crunching upon the dead leaves.
“Hello?” said Toruk, turning around.
The deer spoke nothing in response, but Toruk instantly recognized the animal’s scent, a unique aroma of sweat, urine, and dirt, the natural, musky stink of white-tailed deer.
“What do you want?” Toruk said in Lijian, putting his hands out in front of him as he gingerly approached the deer.
But he did not know that this one had drunk deep of the Shadow’s poison, fully distorting its own venison nature. Where it should have been meek and skittish, the deer was bold and vicious. At the sound of Toruk’s voice, instead of running away, the deer began bleating loudly and stomping the ground with its hooves, an obvious peremptory move before a charge.
“Alright, alright. Just calm down,” Toruk whispered, hoping the animal would lose interest and run away.
Instead, it emphatically pounded its hooves then charged Toruk, thumping its head against his bag.
“Woah!” Toruk exclaimed, stunned at the deer’s behavior.
The animal stepped back then charged Toruk again, thumping its head against his leg. Then it stretched up on its hind legs and struck him with its front hooves all the while growling, bleating and screeching.
The deer was completely vulnerable to the Shadow’s poison coursing through its veins, directing its mind to betray its own instincts and attack a human. It, too, had learned the Olc language, the language of the Shadow, for the Shadow had taught it to the deer as well as all other Satqin animals.
Such was the method of the Shadow’s clever inculcation. Once infiltrating an animal’s habitat, the Shadow would speak out into the immediate atmosphere a curse, one that gave the animal the instant ability to learn and understand Olc. Then the animal succumbed, immediately becoming his puppet, an involuntary disciple of his wickedness.
“Stop!” Toruk yelled to the deer. “Get away! Get!”
Toruk swat blindly while backing away. Then he turned to run, not realizing he was just steps away from the bank of the Pond. The deer remained under the command of the Shadow, unrelenting in its hostile demeanor while Rame and the other hawks quietly enjoyed the show, snug in their high-top nests, watching the spectacle with glee.
Rame was the first Forest animal the Shadow had poisoned and thus the most corrupt. He was there when the Shadow had first stepped into Satqin and had inadvertently caught the Shadow’s eye as he soared above. It had taken seconds, milliseconds even, for Rame to become ensnared with the Shadow’s poison, for when the Shadow saw Rame, he immediately spewed his Olc curse into the air, causing Rame to miraculously learn and understand the Shadow’s language. Then the Shadow had lifted his arm in the air, extending his monstrous hand, waiting for Rame to perch upon his forearm.
And when Rame did, “meki (mine),” the Shadow had softly cooed, smiling, petting the great goshawk, further poisoning Rame by staring into the bird’s eyes. “You, little bird, are mine.”
The Shadow had done the same to all the other animals, including the wolves. When the Shadow had found their dens, he spewed his Olc curse into the air then bade the wolves to join him. The Shadow then used them as his hunters, ordering the wolves to hunt and kill whatever the Shadow felt like eating. Day and night, throughout all seasons the wolves worked, bringing back to the Shadow a variety of carcasses for him to munch on. The wolves themselves ate very little, for their minds and hearts were consumed by the Shadow’s poison, preventing them from returning to their true instincts and behaving as normal wolf packs do.
It was one of these wolves the Shadow had next whistled to, ordering him to push Toruk into the People’s Pond. He figured once the young Lijian heard the low, ominous growl of a wolf, he would freeze with fright, giving the wolf the perfect opportunity to destroy him.
The wolf came, appearing almost instantly after the Shadow secretly beckoned. The animal stood just before Toruk, growling low, salivating, baring his sharp teeth at the young Lijian.
“Get him!” the Shadow secretly whispered to the wolf. “Push him in the Pond! Rip him to pieces! He’s blind as a bat; he won’t know what hit him. Get him! Don’t let him find the Sacred Waterstone!”
When Toruk heard the sudden growling, he briefly froze. “A wolf?” he said to himself, shocked, confused, wondering what to do, debating whether he should stop and face the angry animals or keep running and thereby give them more reason to chase him.
“Get away!” Toruk yelled at them as the deer continued its bleating and stomping of hooves while the wolf snapped and growled.
“What do you animals want?”
Of course, the animals wanted nothing of their own. They were simply executing the Shadow’s orders. After teaching them his language, the Shadow had taught all the Forest animals his evil ways, particularly against humans who, according to the Shadow, could never be trusted.
The wolf and deer snapped and growled as they listened to the Shadow silently whispering to their minds, “Kill the Lijian! End that the dolt! Push him into the Pond! Nek! (Now!)”
But Toruk, though blind, was adept on his feet, quickly shifting left and right as the animals attacked, making it difficult for them to wield a significant blow.
“Get away!” cried Toruk as he dodged them, recalling his father’s warnings to avoid Satqin’s animals at all costs.
“It’s not their fault,” Tofer had told him one afternoon. “The Shadow turned those animals, son. It turned them away from all that was good and normal. It’s not their fault they’ve gone crazy. Just stay away from them. When we go hiking next time, just follow me. Keep your eyes on me and ignore whatever tries to distract you.”
Yet these animals were more than a distraction. They were astonishingly persistent, their eyes glowing in the dark winter night, their bodies poised and stiff for battle. Then the wolf suddenly jumped at Toruk, catching its teeth on the hem of his coat while the deer charged Toruk again, painfully striking his back with its hooves.
“Stop!” Toruk said while frantically wresting himself from the canine grip.
To break free, Toruk quickly took off his coat, letting it drop into the wolf’s mouth. Then Toruk dropped his bag and took to running up and around the Pond despite the animals’ chase. The wolf, after abandoning Toruk’s coat, ran with intensity, quickly gaining the better of the race. In seconds, he outran Toruk while periodically nipping at the young man’s feet. Once in front of Toruk, the wolf turned around to face him, growling loudly, forcing Toruk to suddenly stop running and back away. The deer was right behind the young man, stomping its hooves on the ground, threatening to strike again.
“What do you want from me?” said Toruk, his voice quivering at the frightening realization that he was cornered.
He turned around repeatedly, blindly swatting the air, wildly kicking his legs in hopes of scaring the animals away. Toruk was standing just near the rim of the Pond now, on its northeastern side. He cringed at the Pond’s stench, its thick, putrid dank scent overwhelming his nose and turning his stomach.
Despite the cold, he was sweating, his heart beating wildly in his chest, his mind racing. He felt the heels of his boots hanging off the edge of the bank where it met the water. Toruk felt himself teetering, nearly losing his balance. Then the wolf began nipping at the hem of Toruk’s pants, trying to push him backwards into the Pond, but Toruk narrowly evaded the attempt. He managed to remain upright, though barely, awkwardly shuffling sideways along the rim of the Pond.
Adding to the chaos was the Pond’s dark words tormenting Toruk’s mind with greater intensity. Its spiteful words, though silent to his ears, blared loudly to his soul, threatening to anger and depress him, breaking through his concentration.
It’s those Cetans; they did this to you, the Pond somehow whispered to his mind in perfect Lijian. You should hate them, it encouraged Toruk. Hate them. They hate Lijians. They hate your kind. They are the ones who poisoned you. They made you blind. The Cetans! The Cetans killed your mother, your father. The Cetans did that! They hate you. Hate them back. Hate them back!
Toruk fought with all his mental strength to ignore the Pond’s disgusting words. He had never hated anyone. And though he had suffered great tragedy with the loss of his parents and the loss of his own eyesight, Toruk had not fallen headlong into disabling grief and despair. Even when his hope had briefly dwindled, Toruk boldly answered the Voice Upon the Mountain’s call, truly believing that the Voice would help him save Ceto.
Those Cetans don’t deserve to be saved, the Pond interjected. Let them die! Go back! Go back home! Forget the Peak!”
“No,” Toruk whispered, not realizing he had spoken aloud.
The Sacred Waterstone is not real! said the Pond to his mind. Nothing can save them. They don’t deserve to be saved!
“No,” Toruk mumbled.
The Cetans caused this. It’s their hatred for your kind. That’s what caused all this. Hate them! Return to Ceto and destroy them!
“No! No!” Toruk cried.
Get a group together, the Pond continued. Get a group together. Get weapons. Wage a war. Get angry. Destroy those Cetans. Destroy that Cetan mayor, your Cetan friend. They are bad! They are evil! They did this. They poisoned you!”
“Stop!” Toruk said.
The only way to stop this is to hate. You must hate. Let it take over you. Let it consume you. It will give you power and control. No one would ever be able to harm you again. Hate will make you see.
“No, stop it!” Toruk said.
If you hate the Cetans, then you will become more powerful than you ever had. Your eyes will come back. Your parents will come back. Your life will return to normal.
“Stop it!” Toruk yelled.
Why let those Cetans live? They are worse than the scum of the earth. They made the poison. They worked with the mayor and created the poison in the labs. They mixed the chemicals. They poured it out into the air and into the water pipes. They did that; the Cetans! They poisoned everyone and are now pretending that they are developing an antidote. There is no antidote! Only hate can solve this.
“No!” cried Toruk.
Hate brings peace. If you hate the Cetans, then you get to destroy them. And after you destroy them, you will have peace. Ceto will have peace. All lands will have peace after the Cetans are gone.
“Stop!” he said.
Put them to the sword. Yes, get a band together and put them to the sword. Destroy all Cetans from adult to child. Loot their homes. Denigrate them. Put them down. Steal from their businesses.
“Please stop!” pled Toruk.
The Cetans are an evil race. They are the worst of humanity. They are less than human. They are less than people. They are less valuable than a fly! Nothing will happen to you if you destroy them, if you get a band of people together to destroy them, all of them. Nothing bad will happen to you. You will be applauded. You will be cheered and kissed by your people. They will write songs about you and hold you up as a Lijian hero.
“I will not,” said Toruk.
Hate is greater than love. It is better. It is more powerful. With hate you can do more things. You can annihilate people. You can bring a new world order to Ceto. You can solve all the problems of the world. Hate is great!
“No!” said Toruk.
Hate is the true Waterstone. Go get a band of Lijians together and hate the Cetans. Visit each of their houses and set them on fire. Torch their businesses. Ransack the mayor’s office. Take to the streets and shout ‘Down with the Cetans!’
“I will not!” cried Toruk.
Do it. Hate them. Look at what they did to your parents, to you! They took your precious mother away, the only person who loved you more than life. They took your precious father away and now you have to hike alone. They took your eyesight and now you walk in the dark. Hate them! Why not? Nothing else good will come until you hate them. Hate them!
“Stop it!” yelled Toruk. “I don’t hate!”
He wondered why Uncle Quinn had not told him about this, about the true evil nature of the People’s Pond. The little information he had received from Uncle Quinn about the Pond did nothing to describe its reality.
Toruk had known the eccentric Lijian his entire life. His father’s only brother, Uncle Quinn was a frequent visitor to the Tal home. In fact, Uncle Quinn was the one who had told Tofer about the legend of the Sacred Waterstone when people began suffering the strange illness that blinded their eyes and damaged their organs. He had pressed Tofer to search for it in Satqin, particularly near the banks of the Chena River. Toruk recalled listening to the two men discuss the Forest and its untold dangers for hours, yet barely did they delve into the attributes of the Pond. To Uncle Quinn and his father, the People’s Pond was simply a dangerous place that no human should ever go.
“Guess they just didn’t know,” Toruk mumbled to himself, trying to shake the Pond’s dark thoughts from his mind.
“Toruk!” the Voice Upon the Mountain suddenly called, his words gliding upon a sliver of the Yuli Wind. “I love you. There is something else you must learn.”
“Voice?” said Toruk. “Please help me! Make the Pond stop!”
“Toruk,” continued the Voice as if he had not heard Toruk’s plea, “when you disperse the Waterstone, you must give it to all who come to you, whether Ulan, Lijian, Cetan, or any other person from any other place. You must not be like this Pond.”
“What?” said Toruk, confused that the Voice seemingly was not helping him.
“You must not judge anyone, Toruk. You must not devolve into hatred, division, or preference for anyone, even for you own. You must not judge when you administer the Waterstone, Toruk. A worthy person must not judge. You must not think like this Pond.”
“Help me!” screamed Toruk.
“When you receive the Waterstone and return to Ceto, will you administer it to all people?”
“Yes!” said Toruk, slightly perturbed. “Help me out of here!”
“Will you give more of it to Lijians and not to Cetans?”
“No! Please help!”
“Will you divide the people before you give the Waterstone to them?”
“No!”
“And if someone who wants the Waterstone curses you and puts you down while you administer it, will you pull back? Will you judge them? Will you refuse to give them anymore?”
“No!”
“And if you are ridiculed and resisted to the point of being thrown in jail by the mayor, will you stop speaking of the Waterstone? Will you obey the mayor’s future orders to remain quiet? Will you stop giving it out?”
“No! Please help me! Please, Voice, please!”
Suddenly the deer reared back, then standing on its hind legs, forcefully struck Toruk’s side with its hooves.
“No!” Toruk cried as he fell backwards towards the Pond, unable to maintain his footing.
But just as he was about to hit the Pond’s poisoned deadly water, the Voice Upon the Mountain signaled to the Yuli Wind at once, commanding the Wind to save him.
“I ammmmm!” roared the Yuli Wind as he worked, spinning himself into a magnificent tight twirl, swiftly enrapturing Toruk within his torrent. The Wind magically lifted him into the night air and settled him on his feet on the ground safely away from the Pond’s edge.
The Yuli Wind growled, roared, then emitted a haunting shrill as he next turned toward the wayward wolf and deer. “I ammmmm!” he screamed at them while hurling small gusts of icy hail at the animals. The wolf winced and whimpered in stunned pain as the hail pelted its body. It forgot its ferocious stance from just moments ago and eventually backed away from Toruk before running away from the Pond in true fear. The deer did likewise, at first frozen in shock at the audaciousness of the Yuli Wind’s defensive power. But soon the deer could no longer withstand the painful beating from the icy hail. It abandoned the Shadow’s command and fearfully flitted away from the Pond, disappearing into the night.
“Whoa! What was that?” said Toruk, frozen in his stance, unsure of what just happened, awed by the miraculous Wind.
But the Yuli Wind did not answer. It merely stood aside, waiting for the Voice’s next command. After some time, Toruk walked around slightly bent over, feeling the ground for his coat. Once he found it, he picked it up and put it back on, for the night had turned much colder. He likewise found his bag and quickly slung it across his body. Then he stood still, waiting to catch a whiff of the fresh pure scent of the Chena River, hoping it would guide him back to his westward route. The moment the faint scent wafted through his nose, Toruk followed it, but was quickly blocked by the bent trees, stiff as stone, unrelenting in their unnatural posture.
“Toruk,” the Voice Upon the Mountain suddenly whispered to the young Lijian, his Voice gliding upon a sliver of the Yuli Wind, “do not be afraid. I love you. You have done well so far, but you cannot leave the Forest yet. There is one last requirement of a worthy person. You must defeat him. Remember, he is a liar. Defeat him, then come to me.”
Toruk whipped around in the direction of the Voice. “Defeat who?” he asked, but the Voice remained silent, keeping the Yuli Wind at the ready while quietly watching the young Lijian stand near the Pond, perplexed, confused, wondering what the Voice meant, not realizing that his battle with the Shadow was about to begin. “Defeat who?!”