Backapcking Burro: The Journey Begins

The morning sun rose over the white stone roofs of Cowell. I emerged from a dream laden sleep in which I had been pursued by wolves, torn apart by slavering jaws and fused back together by tongues of green fire. I knew before I opened my eyes that the events of the previous day were not part of some fevered hallucination, but I felt my face and head all the same, groaning as I found the hard, smooth horns exactly where they had been the night before.

“Good morning,” said the old shaman, “You slept fitfully, I’m afraid. You seemed troubled by dream spirits, but I sang them away in the end. Breakfast? How do you like your eggs? Scrambled I hope?”

I turned and sat, blinking across the fire, my stomach suddenly very aware of the smells my nose had picked up a long time ago. The shaman was expertly cooking a meal of baked beans and eggs in one tin, whilst boiling tea in another and toasting thick slices of bread on improvised twig skewers. Baked beans. God, how long had it been since I had tasted them? Nothing like them seem to exist in this new world and I felt my mouth water in anticipation at their simple pleasure.

He finished and handing me the hot tin to eat directly out of. As hungry as I was (and I was) I made a mental note that if I were to be dining alfresco more often, then I would need some plates and cutlery to at least appear civilised!

The old man watched me eat with a self-satisfied smile, laughing out loud when I paused nervously, my lips hovering at the tea cup’s rim. “Drink. It is not drugged, I assure you.” After a second’s further pause, I decided to take my chances and gulped the tea down. All too soon the meal was finished and I sat back, looking at the old shaman.

“Yes?” he asked

“Well… What now?”

“Now?”

“Yes. What do I do next.”

“I thought you had decided to explore the village and the forest some more.”

“What, I just go? No idea what I’m looking for? No clue? No map?”

“You worry too much, young one. The backpack will guide you, as you will guide it. Give yourself to adventure.”

As I thought about this, I idly pulled my bedroll up to ward off the morning chill that bit at me despite the small campfire.

“Cold?” he asked, “Well, we will have to do something about that, although in time you will become accustomed to wearing fewer clothes; after all, when did you last see a gazelle in a waterproof jacket?” he teased. “Have a look in your backpack.”

“My…? I did, yesterday. It was empty, more or less.” The shaman just smiled at me so I pulled the pack onto my lap and opened it. There, inside, I was amazed to see a neatly folded shirt and pair of trousers. Underneath, as I pulled them out, sat a rugged pair of walking boots. I gawped at the old man, “But… but… how? These weren’t here before!”

“Ahh,” he laughed, “The Elemental looks after its chosen. You will find that the backpack holds a good many things you never imagined possible. But you’ll discover that yourself; for now, why not get dressed and begin your journey.”

I nodded, dropping the bedroll as I stood and pulled my new clothes over my naked fur. They fitted perfectly, as did the boots which hugged my feet and instantly felt as though I had worn them for years. One last item was missing. At my feet sat the backpack, the start of all this insanity. Bending, I repacked it, strapping the bedroll away and fastening it tight, before, with a deliberately exaggerated motion, I slung it over my shoulders onto my back and stood, no longer just HeadBurro Antfarm, but now HeadBurro Antfarm The Chosen. HeadBurro Antfarm The Seeker. HeadBurro Antfarm The Last Hope. HeadBurro Antfarm The Terminally Confused. HeadBurro Antfarm The Hopelessly Lost. Oh God!

I turned to gaze into the forest behind me, its tall trees soaring into a beautifully clear sky, birds and insects calling in its depths, the same depths that held (I hoped) the first clues to my task. “I best make a start then,” I said turning to the old man. He was gone! I spun round, searching for him between the buildings of Cowell, but there was no trace he had ever been with me at all.

Running my hand over my furred head, I kicked dirt on to the embers of the dying fire and headed off to explore Cowell further…

Backapcking Burro: The Elemental

“The Inside?” I asked, “Of… the backpack?”

The disembodied voice giggled joyfully, “Well of course. Where else would I be?”

I had no idea, but by this point I had decided that any rational arguments or answers had been well and truly ruled null and void. “What am I doing here?”

“I believe you have some questions for me.”

This was an understatement to say the least “Yeah, I do. For a start, why me? Why did you choose me?”

“Ahhh, but you choose me.”

“What? How?”

“You choose me. Now we must see how things develop. See if this was a good choosing,” the voice said with a playful laugh.

The world around me was still pitch back. I didn’t feel in any danger, but at the same time I didn’t like sitting blind whist my host spun around me, popping up at will. “Look, can I see you,” I asked, “I don’t like sitting here in the dark.”

The voice laughed out loud, “Poor childer… frightened of the dark, are we? Is this better?”

The world around me lit up with a queer black light that hurt my eyes and burrowed into my skull. I blinked and looked around, I appeared to be sat on a spit of land by the sea whose black waves washed up behind me with a sound like ball bearings rolling over glass. The grass beneath me was black in colour and the earth a strange shade of grey. The entire scene was lit by a coal black sun suspended on the horizon of a midnight sky. It was if the entire world had been switched to a weird negative version of itself. Of my host, however, there was no sign. “Err, are you here?” I asked nervously.

“Yes,” the voice whispered into my ear, close enough I expected to feel breath on my skin.

“Are you invisible then?”

“Sometimes,” it giggled.

“Right. Well, how about not being. I’ve had a lot of strange things happen today and I’d like to see who the bloody hell I’m talking to!” I snapped.

“Aww, poor childer. Here I am then,” the voice said obviously amused.

With a sound that felt like my own head being turned inside out, a green sphere radiating a strange light and vibrating tendrils of crackling energy appeared. I gasped out loud, the sight of my captor, my tormentor was both beautiful and terrible at the same time. “What… What are you,” I stammered.

“You may call me an Elemental. I am both servant and master of the Eldars. I looked into you and saw your animal spirit guide. I fused you. I am the Inside. You are the Outside. Together we will find the keys.”

My mind reeled. Questions fought for first place out of my mouth. “What is it you want me to do?” won.

The green light pulsed lightly and I had the feeling the Elemental was shaking its ’head’ gently at my slow stupidity. “The Eldars have told you. Their shaman has told you. Must you hear it from me, too? If I have to repeat everything you already know then the war will be upon us all before we can make even the first move to stop it.”

“I’m… err, I’m sorry,” I heard myself say, my cheeks burning in high blush. “Then can you tell me if I am to be stuck like this,” I gestured to my horns and furry skin, “forever?”

“Aha! The vanity of you childer never ceases to amaze me,” the Elements said roaring with laughter. “And to answer you, my child, no. I can return you to your inferior form once you have completed your task.”

“But why was it necessary to fuse me like this?”

“Simple. You will find your gazelle form will help in your task. You are stronger and faster now than you could ever have been, but also you will find you have a more direct connection to the land you have been called to defend. Without being fused, the trials ahead would be nigh on impossible.”

“Trials?” I asked, but the Elemental only laughed. “Well what is my next step then? Where do I start? What am I looking for?”

“Follow the lines,” came the answer.

“Lines? What lines?”

“The shaman will tell you more.”

“No!” I said forcefully. I was not going to be fobbed off again. This… Elemental had chosen me, changed me, now it was damn well going to tell me the whole story. “I’m sick of half tales. You can tell me.” I sounded far braver than I felt, but my gander was up and I wanted some answers.

The green light pulsed slowly, deeply “Hmmm. Impertinence may serve you well I suppose. Very well then, here is a short version, after all what use is handing you all the answers and robbing you of the chance to discover them yourself? The world you know is young, but it is built on a far older reality. The new lords call the structure they have inherited and moulded, The Grid; a pattern of intersecting lines and nodes they have hung their world upon. These lines and nodes were all that was left after the last Great Shamanic War laid ruin to all. They have always been there. They always will. They are the means by which the life energy of the world is transmitted, balanced and stored. Control them and you control the very world they support. This is what the last War was fought for. This is what the next will be fought for. Follow the lines and seek the keys to understanding.”

“Where should I start?” I asked, struggling to understand all I had heard.

“Ahh, now for that you really must speak to the shaman,” the elemental laughed. The green light exploded soundlessly around me and I closed my eyes tight against the sudden glare. When I opened them again, I was face down in the cool grass of Cowell where I fell. I struggled up and blinked across the fire; the old man sat smiling at me. “You bloody drugged me!” I said, my voice dry and husky.

“Yes, well the path to the Inside is not one for the conscious mind,” he said, a little too pleased with himself for my liking. “I hope you feel more… illuminated now.”

Rubbing my temples, I told him I did without expanding any. Instead, I wanted to know my next move.

“Sleep, he replied. “And then in the morning you can begin your quest.”

“But how? Where do I go? What am I looking for?”

“Knowledge.”

“What kind of answer is that?” I demanded.

“A true one. You are seeking knowledge. I would suggest the best place to start would be right here. Cowell and the forest are old and built on older land than you realise. Start your search here and see what happens next. But for now sleep. I shall watch over you tonight.”

He was right. God! I felt tired. Sleep first and then start again with a clear (if somewhat horned) head tomorrow morning. I lay back into the grass, resting my head on the soft leather of my new backpack. The stars above me blinked and shone. The sound of the water lapping at the bay mingled with a low keening that rose as if from nowhere; the shaman was singing to the night and I fancied, as the velvet cloak of sleep took me, that I saw a shimmering light dance about his naked skin.