Wferium never saw Meraine enter the woods, but she’d already witnessed her escape in foresight. It was a sudden thing and lasted only a minute. She was rudely interrupted by her own flock, many of whom had given up thinking threats in lieu of screaming them. Nor did they bother to begin their curses with “The ancient few be revered”.

“The ancient few be fucked!” was quickly gaining popularity among the crowd. A few pleaded for answers, but most were well beyond that. The cacophony soon rose to a din and little to nothing was clearly heard. Not that it mattered. The message was clear enough . . . they’d been betrayed. Wferium had no answer to it so chose not to speak. She doubted any good would come from it even if she could be heard. She’d even begun to believe it, for how was it not the truth? As much as she’d justified it and sugar coated it, she’d still used and betrayed her own people for the sake of one unknown AA15 boy. For her it was a choice, a terrible sacrifice, but one worth making. It was foolishness to believe it wouldn’t come at a price. She’d decided not to deny the charges. They were plain and clear and she was guilty.

The only question that remained was if it was all worth it. In truth, she couldn’t know. It delved deep into faith. The only reason for this was because she no longer knew the outcome of the future she’d chosen or if Jason would survive it. Was it worth it to save Jason? Yes. Of course it was. As much as she loved her congregation, she knew his life was worth more than all of theirs, including her own. It was worth it if only to reduce the number of people who wanted him dead. She didn’t really think putting this revelation to voice would help her cause, but then nothing short of a divine light shining down from heaven could do that now.

God probably wasn’t going to do that, so she was in the process of accepting her fate. If her EA were the same as her AA she’d be dead already, but not one of her flock, if they could still be called that, would dare kill her outright. There were other ways and they knew them because she’d taught them how. That might’ve been a mistake. They’d be hauling her off to some grisly fate soon enough. She just hoped they wouldn’t allow her to live, because there was no hope they’d let her do so intact. Nor was she any more eager than the rest of them to face the challenges of a crippled life. It proved much easier to preach such virtues, than to actually live them.

Even if still able to walk, the worst of these living fates wasn’t disfigurement. No. She could live with that. She may look young now, but she was still used to being ugly. What she feared was dismemberment. Regardless of how useless her right leg was, she still wanted to keep it. This end was reserved for particularly heinous crimes and had never been used on anyone within the camp. Did her offense qualify in their minds? She wished she knew. She wished she knew their thoughts. As bizarre as that statement was coming from an ancient, it was common when too many thoughts drowned out anything coherent. In fact, only centuries of practice had made it bearable. She was grateful Jason wasn’t here right now. His freshly opened mind would probably be exploding.

She found less than half the crowd was present, with the others in direct pursuit of Meraine. Surprisingly, not one of them actually checked on Jason. That gave him the head start he needed, whether or not Meraine found him, because he didn’t know these woods. Meraine did and had a chance if she stuck to the decisions she’d foreseen. Jason would’ve had none. But then, she wondered, was he better off alone? In the future she saw, Meraine brought the mob to him. They’d escaped, but knew the area of wood to look for them and maybe even where they were headed. However, that was unlikely. She did keep quite a few things to herself. Some of what she knew would blow their relatively feeble minds. She’d take those with her to the grave.

Wferium stared at the mob as they stared back. She knew they were on the brink of action. They had to know she knew it too, but were probably wondering, between curses, how she could remain so calm. She wasn’t exactly. She still feared death or worse, but she’d played her part to the best of her ability and had, at least for the moment, accomplished her goal of saving Jason. She now resigned herself to whatever came next, but hoped to god she wouldn’t catch a glimpse of it. That would be too much for her to take. She wanted it to be a surprise for as long as possible.

Then, suddenly, they moved in. All of them, as if a group collective had made the decision. They grabbed her painfully with no special regard for her injured leg. The leg was useless moments after the pins had hit her, so Wferium tried to hop as she was dragged. She was in pain, but then that never really ended. A sudden 57 year youthing may not actually kill an ancient, but it certainly left one distinctly sore afterwards. In light of that, the pins which selfishly claimed all feeling in her right leg proved more a blessing than a curse.

Wferium wondered, but largely wished not to know, just where they were hauling her off to. For the life of her, she couldn’t completely block out her curiosity. Over the centuries she’d experienced countless things, but death was something new. Not that this was necessarily death, but it did seem imminent. Though, she’d experienced that before too. Not death, but the closeness of it, as if it were breathing putrid vapors down her throat and constricting her air flow, via intense and nearly unbearable fear.

She didn’t feel that so much now, or anymore. Many thought ancients were fearless. That just wasn’t true. It only seemed so, because who else could survive for three and a half centuries without coming to terms with it? The ancients who couldn’t, no longer drew breath. She felt fear now too, but it was more of an afterthought and easily repressed. At least it was for now. That could easily change depending on what they did to her, but they’d have to get creative. She’d experienced too much to give in easily.

They were dragging her into the woods. She hadn’t glanced ahead or even tried to. She knew only because the trees were slowly brushing past and the ground was far more untrodden. However they remained on a path, just not one well used. She didn’t know it. She didn’t get out much or she would’ve. She’d certainly had the time. They’d been at this camp for two months now, which was far too long. Long enough for others to find them and kill them. Shunters were nomadic by nature and must remain on the move. They’d stayed so long on her orders alone. She knew Jason was near and awaited an opportunity to collect him. Though until recently she’d given other reasons for staying put. Believable or not, they were all excuses.

Some died due to the prolonged stay. Either wandered off or picked off, as was the case for anywhere that wasn’t quite so rural. Forest or no, they were, according to most, far too near Madison city limits. There wasn’t even a seed here. So what could she tell them? Certainly nothing definitive and definitely not the truth. Not yet anyway. As was her forte, she chose a half truth. She gave them some spiel about destiny, fate, a piece of the future and of course, their place in history for being a part of it.

In the beginning that worked. They’d all trusted her implicitly. Of course, this trust only came because she’d never done anything like this before. Though Wferium was deceptive by nature, never before had she betrayed her flock for any reason. She hadn’t wanted to now, but she’d seen a possible future. She’d seen the one where she’d been forthcoming and honest. It hadn’t panned out in her favor. There hadn’t been any revolt, but they’d begun to abandon her out of fear, disbelief or both. It was a slow, but steady process and one she hadn’t wanted to see the end of. So she felt compelled to lie. To her, Jason was too important not to.

It was more than this, though. It was something new. For an ancient new things and new experiences were like a steak to a dog. New things were practically irresistible. Nearly everything else had been tried time and again. Such things became very old and very boring. The tedium of a normal life was unbearable, but compound that to well over three hundred years and it was enough to drive anyone insane. Many ancients took that route. They devolved into carelessness and it cost them their lives. She’d never liked to group herself with them. She was insulted by the mere thought, but she couldn’t deny what was happening at this very moment. Had she indeed become careless and insane? She could no longer say, but she feared such an outcome far more than death.

After the first month her congregation had begun to grow restless. One youngster had already died from the curiosity of wandering. She well understood the lure. Seed hunters hunted dormant seeds and these were never found near civilization. If gold glazed the planet, people would’ve first collected it where they lived, where it was easy. Dormant seeds were hard to find because they were rare. They were nearly always discovered in rural areas and sometimes places disastrously hard to reach, like a mountaintop. As exciting as that might be, this meant a child who’d grown up in a seed hunting camp could live out their whole lives sheltered from cities, towns and other forms of civilization, aside from the camp itself, which became something of a self-sustaining, but mobile village. To them, Madison was, as Wferium well understood, something shiny and new. The urge to explore could easily prove overpowering.

Beyond this, with little chance of entering a city parents wouldn’t have much need to prepare their children for the dangers that lay within. On occasion, these were truths they hadn’t even known themselves, being raised in the camp since birth. The young were ignorant and utterly delicious. They’d been asking and pleading to see the city ever since they’d known they were near it. Warnings of danger did little to no good. They couldn’t compare with the sheer power of curiosity.

So, eventually one little boy got away. Overwhelmed with how to reach Jason, Wferium had overlooked it, if indeed she’d ever witnessed it in foresight. She could no longer know, but dishearteningly realized that could’ve been his motivation. All within camp knew of her clairvoyance. It was altogether possible the little one simply thought, “Nothing bad can happen. The ancient would surely see and stop me. If she doesn’t . . . I may even have her blessing.” Yet she hadn’t seen and he never returned. The camp’s faith in the ancient took a blow that day. Though they knew she was far from omniscient, they began to question their purpose here and if it was truly worth the risks involved. Still reverent, however, they begged and pleaded to leave. Not all of them did this. Not all of them were parents. Though fearful, many wished to search, as not even Wferium could be certain of the boy’s fate. Despite this obvious motivation, many remained curious about the mysterious place called Madison. So in response, Wferium suggested those who were willing gather around and prepare to visit the city. It would be daytime and they’d be safe in a group; something like an adventure. Others decided it was more akin to a search party. It didn’t matter. The decision had quelled the tide.

Not that Wferium hadn’t cared, but the child was never found. She knew him and even presided over his birth, but she’d lived long enough to know loss was an intricate part of life. Sometime during the trip she’d had a foresight, discovering he was already rotting somewhere. She hadn’t foreseen the tragic event. She didn’t see everything, but she hadn’t needed to . . . she recognized him. It was just the way of things. Some bastard stole his youth and was going to get away with it. However, she’d collected a ragged, good for nothing murderer and pinned the crime on him. As always Wferium lived for half-truths and her flock needed justice, or at least the perception of it. This man had indeed killed a child on the night in question, but not the same child. In fact, not even he could know for sure it wasn’t the same little boy. To him he was hardly even a boy. He was a piece of meat, brimming with succulent youth. Being drunk that night certainly hadn’t helped his case. Not even the poor, redeemless ingrates that lived on the street killed recklessly. DOE beckoned caution, but a shit faced drunk wouldn’t care so much about that.

During the excursion, she noticed a tiny grocery store owned by a woman named Joan. Wferium set that aside for later use somewhere in the mansion of memories her mind had become. They’d dragged the man back with them. The inherent danger in this had nothing to do with the kidnapping. Everyone saw and couldn’t care less. Not even the group mentality meant much. Gangs were just as common now as they’d been in the days humans still roamed the Earth. No. What they cared about was where they’d gone. Gangs didn’t leave the city limits and no one had ever seen this particular gang before. It could’ve been a new one, they’d supposed, but to some in the know, they reeked of shunters. They were too different, too ignorant, to be anything else.

Like anything else, some supported seed hunters and some didn’t, but they were mostly ignored. One of the reasons was they never interfered with society. This one had. Though it wasn’t much of an offense, some felt the need to make them pay a blood toll. This meant to give one of theirs for permission to enter the city. Well, that had already happened, but no one knew it and it couldn’t be proven, even if Wferium wished to indulge the demands of such riff-raff. Regardless, the perspective of most was simple . . . this world gave out no freebies.

Beyond this, some knew, or at least suspected an ancient was among them. Many seed hunting parties were led by ancients. It was a natural thing and the most reliable place to find one, should they be needed. On occasion strangers sought them out for their wisdom, as if they were shamans or witch doctors. Shunters were different than normal humatrans. They were drawn to a dormant seed when near one. They could usually do this when only five miles away, but an ancient had a keener sense. They could sense a seed within 30 to 50 miles. No one who wasn’t a seed hunter knew how, but many hated them for being different. Many were curious about the seeds and what they could do. Many knew of an ancient’s abilities to read minds and see the future. Many believed the lie that a dormant seed could give them these powers as well.

Even so, who hunted an ancient? Usually, only those who sought death would dare, which did happen on occasion. Aside from the fact an ancient could see you coming, they were deadly. They were especially so surrounded by loyal shunters, which were seen as a cult by many outsiders. They were usually devout in their protection of the ancient. No matter. This uncommon event drew the attention of at least one murderous gang from Madison who managed to convince themselves the risk was worth the reward. They’d soon discover otherwise.

Of course, Wferium knew all about the dangers of going inside the city, but aside from a stopgap measure to retain loyalty, it allowed her to find an appropriate subject for her own youthing. It had been awhile, but her plan required youthing. To instill the proper amount of fear she intended to return. There would be a price for this. She’d foreseen the gang’s interest in what she could do. She knew they’d planned to take the camp and kidnap her. She knew they believed none could stand against the power of their gang, and wished to prove it. In fact, they wanted her to foresee them overwhelming her pathetic camp. They didn’t seem to understand a simple truth . . . foresight offered choices.

They didn’t know Wferium planned on this interruption to distract her camp’s focus from why they were still near Madison, but then, her own flock hadn’t know that either. She’d told them all of the impending danger when it best suited her. They’d been called to arms by a riveting speech that quelled most if not all thoughts of fleeing. In reality, she’d lived with this sort of thing all her life and was just fucking tired of running away. So, she decided to make a stand and managed to convince her congregation to do the same. It would not be a peaceful stand. This gang was going to die. So, Wferium set to meditation, which sometimes prompted early and extra foresight. She had to know all their moves and counter them appropriately. What she saw required them to abandon camp and everything they owned, but only temporarily. It was a ruse only stupid people fell for, but she’d seen this gang met that criteria. Not all of them, but plenty enough to make the effort worthwhile.

Wferium knew, her camp knew, the gang knew, everyone knew that warfare, no matter how big or small, had forever changed. No one ever killed outright for fear of DOE. The name of the game was now to capture, trap, immobilize, incapacitate, maim or otherwise stop the enemy shy of death. Naturally, death happened when large groups of people fought, but it was rarely on purpose. The gang came packing shearguns, but Wferium knew this. Because she knew so did her camp. Instead of remaining confined, she set her people to explore the surrounding woods to learn them and their secrets, many of which they already knew due to the prolonged stay.

Many traps were set, the main one being the camp itself. Everything was prepared well in advance, but nothing was perfect. This battle would have casualties. More of her camp would die. She’d seen many futures, but not one of them gave her the perfection she so desired. It rarely ever did, as she was constantly forced to choose the lesser of two evils. All she could do was choose the path costing the least number of lives while still guaranteeing victory. She’d foreseen the cost of telling her congregation as opposed to not. It wasn’t an easy thing to be an ancient. Sometimes the truth was better left unknown. Even without foresight, it was obvious the camp expected some loss, so she spoke to them.

Wferium told them how many would die, but not who, where or when. If she’d done that then some of those who knew would do everything they could to change their fates, costing even more lives in the effort. It would set in motion a domino effect, losing the battle and costing everyone’s lives. They hadn’t liked her answer, but understood it and accepted it as the honest truth. This, in turn, regained her some lost trust. Nothing was certain anymore. The honesty of this speech would change things. Some would assume they were the ones to die and do things unforeseen. She’d told them this too, and proceeded to meditate some more to update their future.

+++ The resulting foresight was more costly than before, but victory was still well in hand. She had, in essence, traded death for trust. She didn’t know if it was worth it, but it wasn’t the first time. As horrible as it sounded, she was used to it. Every balance needed a counterbalance. Every yin needed its yang. Every good needed its bad. Everything that existed, ever had or ever would did so only in shades of gray. Nothing was black and white. That’s what choices were all about. Wferium could’ve never camped here and saved all their lives, but then what of Jason and the future. Would everything then be lost? She’d always figured a few lives would be the price paid for a continued and perhaps better existence in the distant future. Jason was the key to everything.

Well, for better or worse, she’d made her choice and there was no turning back. The battle took place and was just as vicious as she’d foreseen. Not everything turned out as planned. Foresight was far from perfect and even when it was things could change. She could see the way things should be, based on her decisions, but that required everyone involved to play their part perfectly, without knowing exactly what that might entail. The future always involved a degree of risk, but still they came out victorious. More had died than planned and as it must, DOE had reared its ugly head on more than one occasion. Adults had become children, which was often a death sentence, in and of itself. Losses aside, they’d captured or killed most of the gang, including its leader.

Tied up and confronted, he’d spit in Wferium’s solemn face. Decades had passed since she’d been in a battle and as always occurred, her heart was hardening. This never boded well for those caught. At times, all ancients were terrible, vicious beasts, often kept tethered only by a spool of yarn. Wferium had been let loose and the result wouldn’t be uncontainable violence, but something far worse. In the end, she’d used sway upon them all. They proceeded to slowly torture one another until one died and the survivor suffered DOE. Should they survive the youthing, they’d do it all again. All but one of her newfound enemies died this way.

The final one had been terribly mutilated and sent back to warn other gangs to stay away. Wferium was nearby when this happened. Through sway the poor bastard spoke her words and warnings of slow excruciating death. Immediately afterwards and in full view of dozens, she once again used sway on him. This time he took a pair of pliers and yanked his own fingernails out, one by one. He kept doing this until an old man took out a gun and blew his brains out. This hadn’t ruined her fun because he’d been swayed as well. He had nothing to do with anything, but could easily survive the youthing process and it looked as if he could use it. After all, no one would dare kill him.

When Wferium returned to camp, something had changed. She immediately saw her mistake. Her rage had surpassed foresight, and her congregation grew to fear her. She honestly didn’t know if that was something she could’ve forced herself to prevent or not. This fear had, however, kept them in the check she required. Time crept on. They’d moved camp to prevent further attacks, but none were coming. The gang they’d destroyed had been the strongest, boldest one in Madison. That probably wasn’t saying much, but it certainly said enough. Not one of the remaining gangs had ever seen the like and their own fear corrupted their hearts. Some even finished off a few who’d escaped the original battle, solely to appease the ancient from further violence.

This opened wide the doors of Madison to Wferium’s flock. What fear was there now? Everyone knew who they were. None would attack any of them. This was power and many embraced it. However, some didn’t and a certain division was formed within the camp. These believed wholeheartedly in noninterference with society. They regretted what they’d done and resented Wferium for convincing them to do it. Others adored her for it, but these were mostly the younger generation; naturally, not those made younger from youthing. Then there were others like Berial, who though he didn’t understand Wferium’s motives, knew she must’ve had a higher plan and remained devoted to whatever fate may befall them.

After the battle, Wferium often visited Joan, making certain she’d seen and known just how hungry she was for her youth. Though not what she wanted at all, others followed her example and did likewise to many different people in town. She chided these youngsters against such things, saying they were too inexperienced and shouldn’t make threats they couldn’t see to completion. It was something they could understand. She was instilling fear into Joan for an entirely different reason.

Still she enjoyed it and could feel herself reverting back to a conscienceless savage. Every ancient went through such periods. It was the reason many ancients chose to live a life of seclusion. It just so happened, being a seed hunter created a happy medium between civility, loneliness and savagery. As a bonus, it also gave the opportunity for something akin to a family without all the lies. Even so, change was needed to keep insanity at bay. This was perhaps not the best time for her savagery, though. It was something no normal humatran should ever witness, unless they were to be feasted upon. Because of this she tried to rein in the urge. Sometimes she succeeded. Sometimes she didn’t. As always, a price was paid for failure. This usually manifested in the form of lost trust, though some did abandon her flock entirely, out of shattered hope, terror or a little of both. She allowed them to go, as her camp was never designed to be a prison.

Wferium didn’t need foresight to see she was losing control of her people. Their loyalties were splintering apart into secret factions. Many questioned more than just her leadership. They questioned the cause . . . seed hunting. That was something they must never do. It was far too important to neglect, though she recognized the irony, as that’s exactly what she’d done. Even so, it was meant as a temporary break, as the seeds must be set free, lest the Atreon fade. Aside from the pure revulsion of perhaps reverting back to humanity, many really had no idea what would happen. Not even Wferium knew. Maybe everyone now needed this gas to survive. Maybe everyone would die without it. Maybe, and this was a sickening thought, everyone would revert back to their AA. If that was so, then she and all the other ancients would turn to dust in the blink of an eye. No. The Atra gas must flow.

That’s what made the firstborn prophecy so vitally important. Wferium knew Jason was connected to this somehow. She believed the fate of the world hung in the balance. Perhaps he was a savior sent to prevent global genocide. She just couldn’t know, but in some way she knew he was needed. He was born with a purpose, but wasn’t fulfilling it because her brother, Sarafyn, constantly kept the truth from him. Didn’t he realize everyone and everything might be lost because of his stubbornness, but then he’d always been that way. After a while he wanted nothing to do with anything, but that couldn’t be allowed. Every ancient had a part to play, because none knew which ancient’s firstborn the prophecy spoke of. Wferium really believed it might’ve been her own, Jarayal, but it wasn’t. It couldn’t have been. Because he’d met with a bad end and was now dead . . . long since dead. This wasn’t anything she wanted to think about now or ever again. She didn’t have time anyway. Everything was falling apart and she needed to hold it all together just a little bit longer.

Then it happened. She’d received the foresight justifying all her efforts and sacrifices. Suddenly she knew when and where Jason and his father would part. Of course, she’d only had a days’ notice to arrange everything. Was that even enough? She’d had her plan already, but was a day enough time to convince her people to play the part she needed them to play? It might be the very last time, but nothing could’ve been more vital. It simply had to work.

She was successful, though she didn’t have anywhere near full support. The most devout agreed, such as Berial. Then the youth who’d become irresponsibly enamored to all forms of violence because of her shitty example. There wasn’t anything for it. Those who’d already lost their trust of the ancient tried to convince others not to participate in any further violence. This worked on a few people, but thankfully for her, most of the words fell on deaf ears. She didn’t know if it would be enough people or not, but it would have to be. So the plan was set.

Then her morals began seeping through just a bit. If there truly was a hell, Wferium knew they were reserving a special place just for her. Did that matter? She wouldn’t, couldn’t turn back now. Who knew, maybe she’d go to heaven as a key part in setting the firstborn of prophecy free from his shackles. Then she thought, she’d damn well better go to heaven. Otherwise she might just DOE off of Lucifer.

The rest was history. Perhaps it really would be. Perhaps someone would write about her martyrdom. Maybe that person would be Jason. Either way, it wouldn’t happen until well after he’d played his part, whatever that was.

Her ramblings were interrupted when those dragging her suddenly stopped. She was slightly disappointed. It was a nice little walk in the woods. Then she heard what she hoped never again to hear . . . Sarafyn’s voice.