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Description
June 21, 12985 BCE; Siberia

Arktalaki softly groaned when something tried to wake her up. She rolled over and curled up, but she kept getting nudged by the distinctive snout of her wolf.

“No girl…” she droned. “It's too early.”

Her wolf friend whined, and nudged her again. She seemed rather anxious. Arktalaki grumbled and sat up, rubbing the sand from her eyes. She gently pet her friend.

“What's the matter, Iwakuk?” she mumbled. “What's wrong, girl?”

The wolf trotted over towards the cave entrance, muffled growls under its breath. Arktalaki was starting to get worried. Iwakuk rarely behaved like this unless a threat was nearby…

Arktalaki quietly stood up and quickly threw a bear skin over her shoulder. She grabbed her bow and quiver and cautiously followed her pet.

She peeked out from the cave entrance as she followed Iwakuk into the open forest night. She looked around in every angle, trying to spot what had gotten her wolf so worked up. She shivered in the cold night, despite her many layers of animal skins. It felt unnaturally cold that night, as if the gods had frozen the world twice over. Her breath came out in cloudy puffs. It felt almost… angrily cold.

She carried on nonetheless, following Iwakuk past the camp edge and into the surrounding woods. It had clearly snowed quite a bit while she was asleep, and even still a flurry was continuing to fall. Arktalaki felt her muscles instinctively tighten and pull her bowstring back a small bit further.

And then, right as she was about to consider turning around since she had wandered rather far from the camp, she heard it. A crack.

A footstep.

She flinched and readied her bow, her body shaking now from both fear and the cold. She crept through the snowy brush, trying her hardest not to be seen or heard by whoever was in the woods with her. Even Iwakuk went quiet, her predator’s instincts kicking in. The two of them crouched in the bushes, and froze when they spotted the outsiders.

They were big, Arktalaki saw. These men who silently sauntered through the forest were built like sabertooths with their bulging muscular structure and their ivory armor carved from mammoth tusks. They held brutal-looking spears, pointed with jagged obsidian. Skulls adorned their heads, a cross shape etched between the eye sockets. These were clearly men who were not to be messed with.

But why were they here, Arktalaki wondered fearfully as she watched them disappear amongst the foliage. Were there others as well? Were they lurking in the woods? She certainly wasn't about to ask them. Iwakuk simply growled bitterly in the direction they were moving in. Arktalaki tried to hush her, though. She didn't want to risk attracting the attention of those juggernauts.

“Come on, girl,” she shakily whispered to her pet. “Let's get out of here. Let's go home.”

The wolf looked at her and whined, but Arktalaki gave her a gentle pet and that was enough to calm the wolf and have her follow.

The two stealthily made their way in the direction of the camp. The snow was starting to pick up more and more. Arktalaki hoped they'd be able to get back to shelter before a blizzard pulled in. She kept her eyes on the path ahead of her, on the spaces between the branches. She had remembered the layout of these trees, just as she did with every new camp the Yi’alut created. Her father had taught her to do so in order to always navigate her way back home. She knew every tree, every angle, every hill. She'd know right away if she was on the wrong path. If she saw something that didn't match her memory, it meant she wasn't going the right way. If she saw something like a malevolent orange glow shining in between the trees from the distance…

...Wait.

No one from her camp should be igniting a fire at this point in the night. It would attract the predators and scavengers while everyone slept. Why was she seeing an orange glow from that direction? And… why was it seemingly growing wider and more intense?

And then the screams went up.

Blood-curdling shouts of agony came bursting through the woods, voices whom Arktalaki recognized as her friends and family, as her tribe.

She sprinted.

Staying quiet was no longer a concern of hers. She crashed and shoved her way through the snow and branches, breathing heavily and shaking hard as she rushed to get back to the tribe. Iwakuk had abandoned silence as well, barking and snarling as she ran alongside her master.

The evil hue of orange soon engulfed the sky, being quickly followed by a layer of black smoke. Arktalaki froze in her tracks at the base of a hill. She looked down at the camp below her. She looked at the carnage.

Everything was up in flames. Tents, satchels… people. The juggernauts from earlier were managing the massacre, their numbers having quadrupled. They were all either busy burning down the tribe's supplies and homes, or brutally ramming their spears into the hearts of all the people Arktalaki called family. Arktalaki’s heart practically stopped. Tears came streaming down her face. She couldn't believe such a horrific sight. She refused to believe it. But the screams kept assaulting her ears, enforcing the reality of this sight. She let out a wail like a wounded animal, and she sprinted forwards with her bow.

She ran into the burning hellscape, trying desperately to find a familiar face that wasn't being impaled or burned alive. She let off arrows in the direction of any of the juggernauts that she saw through her burning tears. She quickly caught their attention, and she had to run amongst the wreckage to escape their line of sight. She ducked behind a tent that had yet to be licked by the fire. She was hyperventilating. How could this be happening? Why was this happening? Her tribe were a peaceful people, one that offered diplomacy and trade to all who would take it. Why on Earth would they fall victim to such a vicious attack?

“Stay back!”

The words rang in Arktalaki’s ears. She knew that voice. She span around the corner and looked in wide eyed terror. She saw her father in the distance, covered in cuts and blood. With one hand he held a spear, and with the other he protected Arktalaki’s mother and infant siblings. Nanalak was standing off against a man that somehow seemed even larger than the juggernauts, with even more jagged armor and skins that gave him the overall appearance of a monster. He had a cross shape on his outfit as well, but this one was made of bones and adorned his chest. Arktalaki could see his scared, toothy grin stretching out from underneath his skull helmet. He held a heavy stone axe, and was ready to use it.

“I said stay back!” Nanalak demanded.

“Father! Mother!” Arktalaki shouted. But he didn't hear her. She was too far away and the flames were too loud. She and Iwakuk started running towards them. “Father!” she shouted again.

The giant approached her father, slowly. Threateningly slowly. “You should have given up your food supplies, Yi’alut,” he growled, his voice deep and booming like thunder.

“I could not!” her father insisted. “We would not have had enough for the journey! Our people’s safety comes before your appeasement, Mahanuq heathen!”

Arktalaki’s heart practically stopped again. She tripped as she ran and her shouts croaked silent. These were the Mahanuq? These were the great conquerors? The most feared force on Earth?

Oh god… Oh no…

They didn't stand a chance…

She had to get to her father. The giant approached closer. The infants were wailing. “No one defies the will of the Mahanuq, Yi’alut,” he boomed. “No one defies Chief Tanaguq!”

The giant brought up his axe, and pulled it back to swing. Arktalaki screamed as her feet slammed against the ground and she raced forward. “NO!”

But her scream was the only thing that reached the scene. Her father looked at her from the corner of his eye, the sorriest expression beaming from that subtle little movement. And then the axe came crashing down.

Arktalaki stumbled and fell to her knees. Iwakuk howled as her master cried and stared in stunned silence. Her family was swatted to the ground, their blood splattering the axe of Chief Tanaguq. The monster thundered forward a few steps, standing over them and mercilessly grinning. He brought the axe down again, and again, and again, and Arktalaki was forced to watch as she was helpless to prevent her family from becoming a red pile amongst the flames. Tanaguq must've heard her wails of loss, as he looked over at her when he finished his job. He kept that same, unremorseful grin on his face.

Arktalaki gripped her bow tight and ran forward with the fury of a tiger. She grabbed an arrow and pulled back the string, aiming for Tanaguq’s head despite her shaking body keeping her from aiming straight. She pulled it back, but just as she was about to let go and get her vengeance, she ran right into something. Someone.

Another juggernaut, one with a more decorated outfit than the others, had stepped into her path and knocked her to the ground. Iwakuk came running up to try and save her, but the beast swatted the wolf away like a toy.

“No!” Arktalaki cried. Then she suddenly found herself being hoisted into the air by the juggernaut, and tossed behind the same wreckage as the wolf. The creature whined in pain, and Arktalaki immediately heard thunderous footsteps moving towards her. She shook off her pain and grabbed Iwakuk. And then she took off running.

She ran and ran and cried and cried, until she tripped and went rolling into a pile of baskets that she was surprised to see hadn't caught fire yet. She acted fast and shoved herself and Iwakuk underneath one, quickly positioning it so that it didn't look out of place amongst the other scattered baskets. Her breathing was painful and heavy, but she tried to cover her mouth and stay unheard. She was so scared, so confused, so tormented. This couldn't be happening… it just couldn't…

She managed to peak out through the tiny hole in the weaving of her hiding place. She looked out at the apocalyptic sight that was once her home and family. Tanaguq stood at the center of it all, tall and powerful. He stood amongst other people as well, six to be exact. Some of them were armored, others just wore fancy skins and headdresses. All of them bore that bone cross in some fashion or another. All of them watched the destruction with remorseless glee.

“Let it be known that this is what happens to all who defy the Mahanuq!” Tanaguq bellowed to the few Yi’alut that hadn't quite yet died from their beatings and burnings. “All who stand against us shall burn! All who challenge our dominion over these lands will die!”

Arktalaki fell back a bit, crying, unable to take any of this. She hugged Iwakuk as tight as she possibly could, using the wolf’s fur as a muffler for her cries of loss and agony. She sat there, in that basket, just praying to the spirits that she'd survive… that she'd wake up from this nightmare soon.

Oh god how she wanted to wake up…

------------

She didn't know how long she was under the basket for. A few minutes, hours, days? She couldn't tell. It felt like an eternity. Her mind had forced her senses to go into a sort of lull, trapping her in this limbo of fear. But she eventually started to come back to reality. The sounds of the outside world came back to her ears.

At least, what little sound there was.

All she could hear was Iwakuk’s distressed whining and the soft crackle of dying flames outside. She peaked out of the hole in the basket, taking in the scenery. There was no sign of the Mahanuq, save for the destruction they left in their wake. The clearing that had once been her tribe's flourishing camp was now nothing but a landscape of black, charred remains.

Arktalaki slowly and cautiously began to lift the basket off of herself and Iwakuk. She frantically looked around in every direction for any sign of the Mahanuq. She saw nothing, heard nothing. The only thing that greeted her was the chilling whisper of a cold and lonely wind.

She stood from her hiding place, letting it roll away into the ashes. She slowly paced through the destruction, her mind barely able to comprehend it as reality. Her eyes were widened like a deer’s, her lips trembling, her body shaking. There were still a few small flames licking the ruins, though most were threatening to go out in the face of the winds. Arktalaki didn't even want to think of the smell that came from the ashes and bodies… She wandered through it all, the blood drained from her face. She looked like a ghost hovering over a warzone.
Iwakuk moved ahead of her a little bit, sniffing out the area and leading her to a tragically familiar spot. Arktalaki couldn't hold back her tears when she saw what Iwakuk had found. It was the bodies of her family, of her parents and siblings, looking like something a tiger would leave behind after a meal. Her hands went to her mouth as she began to huff and sniffle. She dropped to her knees. She held her father's cold, scarred, motionless hand. She hugged him, hugged them all, wailing like a wounded animal. For a brief moment, she was lost in that limbo again. That limbo where time had no meaning and her family was still there as long as she hugged them.

But it didn't last. It couldn't last…

She forced herself to lower them down gently, crossing their arms over their chests and closing their eyes. She wobbled her arm across her own chest, bowing her head. Through quivering lips and ragged breaths, she said, “Let your souls walk free…”

She stood up slowly, and for a while that's all she did: stand. What was she supposed to do? What could she possibly do? Where would she go? Who would she go to? She had lost everything…

She felt something nuzzle her arm, and she looked down to see Iwakuk. The wolf whined as it looked up at her. In her mouth, she held Nanalak’s bow. Arktalaki’s bow.

Arktalaki took it from the wolf's mouth and held it with both her hands. Her eyes rolled over every little carving and detail that it had on its surface. She stood there for a long while, just staring, before slinging it over her shoulder. She gathered up some of her arrows that had managed to survive the attack, and loaded them into her quiver. She whistled for Iwakuk to come to her side, and she began to walk. She walked out of the ruins, away from the mortifying scene, into the dark depths of the forest, into the ever increasing snow storm.

That's all she figured she could do, really. Walk.

Description
June 21, 12985 BCE; Siberia

Arktalaki softly groaned when something tried to wake her up. She rolled over and curled up, but she kept getting nudged by the distinctive snout of her wolf.

“No girl…” she droned. “It's too early.”

Her wolf friend whined, and nudged her again. She seemed rather anxious. Arktalaki grumbled and sat up, rubbing the sand from her eyes. She gently pet her friend.

“What's the matter, Iwakuk?” she mumbled. “What's wrong, girl?”

The wolf trotted over towards the cave entrance, muffled growls under its breath. Arktalaki was starting to get worried. Iwakuk rarely behaved like this unless a threat was nearby…

Arktalaki quietly stood up and quickly threw a bear skin over her shoulder. She grabbed her bow and quiver and cautiously followed her pet.

She peeked out from the cave entrance as she followed Iwakuk into the open forest night. She looked around in every angle, trying to spot what had gotten her wolf so worked up. She shivered in the cold night, despite her many layers of animal skins. It felt unnaturally cold that night, as if the gods had frozen the world twice over. Her breath came out in cloudy puffs. It felt almost… angrily cold.

She carried on nonetheless, following Iwakuk past the camp edge and into the surrounding woods. It had clearly snowed quite a bit while she was asleep, and even still a flurry was continuing to fall. Arktalaki felt her muscles instinctively tighten and pull her bowstring back a small bit further.

And then, right as she was about to consider turning around since she had wandered rather far from the camp, she heard it. A crack.

A footstep.

She flinched and readied her bow, her body shaking now from both fear and the cold. She crept through the snowy brush, trying her hardest not to be seen or heard by whoever was in the woods with her. Even Iwakuk went quiet, her predator’s instincts kicking in. The two of them crouched in the bushes, and froze when they spotted the outsiders.

They were big, Arktalaki saw. These men who silently sauntered through the forest were built like sabertooths with their bulging muscular structure and their ivory armor carved from mammoth tusks. They held brutal-looking spears, pointed with jagged obsidian. Skulls adorned their heads, a cross shape etched between the eye sockets. These were clearly men who were not to be messed with.

But why were they here, Arktalaki wondered fearfully as she watched them disappear amongst the foliage. Were there others as well? Were they lurking in the woods? She certainly wasn't about to ask them. Iwakuk simply growled bitterly in the direction they were moving in. Arktalaki tried to hush her, though. She didn't want to risk attracting the attention of those juggernauts.

“Come on, girl,” she shakily whispered to her pet. “Let's get out of here. Let's go home.”

The wolf looked at her and whined, but Arktalaki gave her a gentle pet and that was enough to calm the wolf and have her follow.

The two stealthily made their way in the direction of the camp. The snow was starting to pick up more and more. Arktalaki hoped they'd be able to get back to shelter before a blizzard pulled in. She kept her eyes on the path ahead of her, on the spaces between the branches. She had remembered the layout of these trees, just as she did with every new camp the Yi’alut created. Her father had taught her to do so in order to always navigate her way back home. She knew every tree, every angle, every hill. She'd know right away if she was on the wrong path. If she saw something that didn't match her memory, it meant she wasn't going the right way. If she saw something like a malevolent orange glow shining in between the trees from the distance…

...Wait.

No one from her camp should be igniting a fire at this point in the night. It would attract the predators and scavengers while everyone slept. Why was she seeing an orange glow from that direction? And… why was it seemingly growing wider and more intense?

And then the screams went up.

Blood-curdling shouts of agony came bursting through the woods, voices whom Arktalaki recognized as her friends and family, as her tribe.

She sprinted.

Staying quiet was no longer a concern of hers. She crashed and shoved her way through the snow and branches, breathing heavily and shaking hard as she rushed to get back to the tribe. Iwakuk had abandoned silence as well, barking and snarling as she ran alongside her master.

The evil hue of orange soon engulfed the sky, being quickly followed by a layer of black smoke. Arktalaki froze in her tracks at the base of a hill. She looked down at the camp below her. She looked at the carnage.

Everything was up in flames. Tents, satchels… people. The juggernauts from earlier were managing the massacre, their numbers having quadrupled. They were all either busy burning down the tribe's supplies and homes, or brutally ramming their spears into the hearts of all the people Arktalaki called family. Arktalaki’s heart practically stopped. Tears came streaming down her face. She couldn't believe such a horrific sight. She refused to believe it. But the screams kept assaulting her ears, enforcing the reality of this sight. She let out a wail like a wounded animal, and she sprinted forwards with her bow.

She ran into the burning hellscape, trying desperately to find a familiar face that wasn't being impaled or burned alive. She let off arrows in the direction of any of the juggernauts that she saw through her burning tears. She quickly caught their attention, and she had to run amongst the wreckage to escape their line of sight. She ducked behind a tent that had yet to be licked by the fire. She was hyperventilating. How could this be happening? Why was this happening? Her tribe were a peaceful people, one that offered diplomacy and trade to all who would take it. Why on Earth would they fall victim to such a vicious attack?

“Stay back!”

The words rang in Arktalaki’s ears. She knew that voice. She span around the corner and looked in wide eyed terror. She saw her father in the distance, covered in cuts and blood. With one hand he held a spear, and with the other he protected Arktalaki’s mother and infant siblings. Nanalak was standing off against a man that somehow seemed even larger than the juggernauts, with even more jagged armor and skins that gave him the overall appearance of a monster. He had a cross shape on his outfit as well, but this one was made of bones and adorned his chest. Arktalaki could see his scared, toothy grin stretching out from underneath his skull helmet. He held a heavy stone axe, and was ready to use it.

“I said stay back!” Nanalak demanded.

“Father! Mother!” Arktalaki shouted. But he didn't hear her. She was too far away and the flames were too loud. She and Iwakuk started running towards them. “Father!” she shouted again.

The giant approached her father, slowly. Threateningly slowly. “You should have given up your food supplies, Yi’alut,” he growled, his voice deep and booming like thunder.

“I could not!” her father insisted. “We would not have had enough for the journey! Our people’s safety comes before your appeasement, Mahanuq heathen!”

Arktalaki’s heart practically stopped again. She tripped as she ran and her shouts croaked silent. These were the Mahanuq? These were the great conquerors? The most feared force on Earth?

Oh god… Oh no…

They didn't stand a chance…

She had to get to her father. The giant approached closer. The infants were wailing. “No one defies the will of the Mahanuq, Yi’alut,” he boomed. “No one defies Chief Tanaguq!”

The giant brought up his axe, and pulled it back to swing. Arktalaki screamed as her feet slammed against the ground and she raced forward. “NO!”

But her scream was the only thing that reached the scene. Her father looked at her from the corner of his eye, the sorriest expression beaming from that subtle little movement. And then the axe came crashing down.

Arktalaki stumbled and fell to her knees. Iwakuk howled as her master cried and stared in stunned silence. Her family was swatted to the ground, their blood splattering the axe of Chief Tanaguq. The monster thundered forward a few steps, standing over them and mercilessly grinning. He brought the axe down again, and again, and again, and Arktalaki was forced to watch as she was helpless to prevent her family from becoming a red pile amongst the flames. Tanaguq must've heard her wails of loss, as he looked over at her when he finished his job. He kept that same, unremorseful grin on his face.

Arktalaki gripped her bow tight and ran forward with the fury of a tiger. She grabbed an arrow and pulled back the string, aiming for Tanaguq’s head despite her shaking body keeping her from aiming straight. She pulled it back, but just as she was about to let go and get her vengeance, she ran right into something. Someone.

Another juggernaut, one with a more decorated outfit than the others, had stepped into her path and knocked her to the ground. Iwakuk came running up to try and save her, but the beast swatted the wolf away like a toy.

“No!” Arktalaki cried. Then she suddenly found herself being hoisted into the air by the juggernaut, and tossed behind the same wreckage as the wolf. The creature whined in pain, and Arktalaki immediately heard thunderous footsteps moving towards her. She shook off her pain and grabbed Iwakuk. And then she took off running.

She ran and ran and cried and cried, until she tripped and went rolling into a pile of baskets that she was surprised to see hadn't caught fire yet. She acted fast and shoved herself and Iwakuk underneath one, quickly positioning it so that it didn't look out of place amongst the other scattered baskets. Her breathing was painful and heavy, but she tried to cover her mouth and stay unheard. She was so scared, so confused, so tormented. This couldn't be happening… it just couldn't…

She managed to peak out through the tiny hole in the weaving of her hiding place. She looked out at the apocalyptic sight that was once her home and family. Tanaguq stood at the center of it all, tall and powerful. He stood amongst other people as well, six to be exact. Some of them were armored, others just wore fancy skins and headdresses. All of them bore that bone cross in some fashion or another. All of them watched the destruction with remorseless glee.

“Let it be known that this is what happens to all who defy the Mahanuq!” Tanaguq bellowed to the few Yi’alut that hadn't quite yet died from their beatings and burnings. “All who stand against us shall burn! All who challenge our dominion over these lands will die!”

Arktalaki fell back a bit, crying, unable to take any of this. She hugged Iwakuk as tight as she possibly could, using the wolf’s fur as a muffler for her cries of loss and agony. She sat there, in that basket, just praying to the spirits that she'd survive… that she'd wake up from this nightmare soon.

Oh god how she wanted to wake up…

------------

She didn't know how long she was under the basket for. A few minutes, hours, days? She couldn't tell. It felt like an eternity. Her mind had forced her senses to go into a sort of lull, trapping her in this limbo of fear. But she eventually started to come back to reality. The sounds of the outside world came back to her ears.

At least, what little sound there was.

All she could hear was Iwakuk’s distressed whining and the soft crackle of dying flames outside. She peaked out of the hole in the basket, taking in the scenery. There was no sign of the Mahanuq, save for the destruction they left in their wake. The clearing that had once been her tribe's flourishing camp was now nothing but a landscape of black, charred remains.

Arktalaki slowly and cautiously began to lift the basket off of herself and Iwakuk. She frantically looked around in every direction for any sign of the Mahanuq. She saw nothing, heard nothing. The only thing that greeted her was the chilling whisper of a cold and lonely wind.

She stood from her hiding place, letting it roll away into the ashes. She slowly paced through the destruction, her mind barely able to comprehend it as reality. Her eyes were widened like a deer’s, her lips trembling, her body shaking. There were still a few small flames licking the ruins, though most were threatening to go out in the face of the winds. Arktalaki didn't even want to think of the smell that came from the ashes and bodies… She wandered through it all, the blood drained from her face. She looked like a ghost hovering over a warzone.
Iwakuk moved ahead of her a little bit, sniffing out the area and leading her to a tragically familiar spot. Arktalaki couldn't hold back her tears when she saw what Iwakuk had found. It was the bodies of her family, of her parents and siblings, looking like something a tiger would leave behind after a meal. Her hands went to her mouth as she began to huff and sniffle. She dropped to her knees. She held her father's cold, scarred, motionless hand. She hugged him, hugged them all, wailing like a wounded animal. For a brief moment, she was lost in that limbo again. That limbo where time had no meaning and her family was still there as long as she hugged them.

But it didn't last. It couldn't last…

She forced herself to lower them down gently, crossing their arms over their chests and closing their eyes. She wobbled her arm across her own chest, bowing her head. Through quivering lips and ragged breaths, she said, “Let your souls walk free…”

She stood up slowly, and for a while that's all she did: stand. What was she supposed to do? What could she possibly do? Where would she go? Who would she go to? She had lost everything…

She felt something nuzzle her arm, and she looked down to see Iwakuk. The wolf whined as it looked up at her. In her mouth, she held Nanalak’s bow. Arktalaki’s bow.

Arktalaki took it from the wolf's mouth and held it with both her hands. Her eyes rolled over every little carving and detail that it had on its surface. She stood there for a long while, just staring, before slinging it over her shoulder. She gathered up some of her arrows that had managed to survive the attack, and loaded them into her quiver. She whistled for Iwakuk to come to her side, and she began to walk. She walked out of the ruins, away from the mortifying scene, into the dark depths of the forest, into the ever increasing snow storm.

That's all she figured she could do, really. Walk.