*Author's notes*

This chapter doesn't deserve an R rating, but the story most likely will later. My stories always involve at least a little Slash (AKA m/m relationships) and I don't think this one's going to be any different. There isn't any in this chapter but, most likely the next will have some. So, my point would be, if you don't like it, don't read it. . I figured that would be common sense, but apparently.....

And for god's sake PLEASE review, an one word response would at least tell me some thing! ^v^

The Shamans have always isolated themselves because of the power they wielded, granted to them by the spirits, but times of war force them to look outside of their boundaries for help. Can Dakar form an alliance with his people's hostile neighbors in order to save everyone? Contains some Slash.

One God

Preface

Dakar woke up in his bed, screaming shrilly. Tears were streaming down his red chubby cheeks as he hiccuped the screamed again. His thin white night shirt was sticking to his body, his tiny pale fingers twist among his dark green sheets as he clutched them. He was a four year old redhead, and his whole world was about to fall apart.

His mother flew into his room, a moving bundle of green and yellow silk scarves. She gathered him up in her arms quickly and clutched him to her chest. She tried to soothe him, but she was not very convincing and he continued to scream

"Now, Lizzy!" Someone yelled up from below and through all the noise coming from outside, Dakar barely recognized it as his father's. His mother, Elizabeth, shifted him about in her arms to assure that she had a better grip on him, and ran out of her son's bedroom.

Dakar clutched to his mother's dress, blinking the tears out of his eyes when he heard his father's voice again. Outside, everyone in the village seemed to be in a panic. Make shift lightning from bonfires made all the shadows stand out mysteriously. For the first time in his life, Dakar was truly afraid. What made it so bad, however, was his father's face in the fire light.

His father was afraid.

His hair was fanned out around his bony face, giving it an eerie halo. Dirt was smudge on his cheeks and his eyes dance back and forth, his jaw clenched tight.

"He's here." Kypt whispered to his wife.

Lizzy nodded back. "I need to go to the temple." She responded.

Kypt bit the inside of his cheek then nodded. "Then we'll buy you time." Kypt then leaned forward and kiss his wife quickly, then his son. "Put him somewhere safe. When you get done, head for the north valley bend. You should be safe there. Holed up there until help comes."

Lizzy grabbed his arm before he could leave. "Don't do anything stupid. If you don't meet me there, I'll never forgive you, Kypt."

Kypt smiled wistfully and patted her hand. "Go." Before she could argue, he was jogging off towards the southern gate.

Lizzy lingered for a moment to watch him go before turning and running herself towards the northwest side. She clutched so tightly to her child that his ribs ached. She was crying now, and he wanted to too, but he was breathing too hard to do anything more than gasp. His mother nearly tripped as she ran up the simple stone steps to the village temple. It was not really a building, but more of a collection of gazebos and gardens. The people of the village preferred well-cared flowers and trees to stuffy wooded walls. Dakar had spent many days running in and out of the gazeboes and through the meditation gardens, chasing spirits or playing cat and mouse with his friends. His mother worked there, in the temple. Dakar never really understood what she did, other than work with the spirits. Dakar had never seen so many spirits gathered in one place as when she was working.

His mother headed for the main gazebo, still carrying him in her arms. She stumbled up the marble steps that lead to the large gazebo. She set her son down on the ground next to one of the wood and stone support pillars near the entrance. She disappeared then behind the vine curtain that separated the rest of the gazebo from the center of the temple.

Dakar bit his lip to keep from crying, and anxiously watch the curtain for some sign of his mother. He was scared and he did not know why. His mother was scared, and he did not know why. He did not want to know, he just wanted to go home. That was where he was supposed to be, but it did not feel like it.

He sat down on the cold stone floor of the temple and cried silently. He could hear people screaming outside of the temple and that made him only want to cry harder but he did not dare. He was in the main gazebo now, and even he would not speak louder than in a whisper in there. Specially not with his mother in there as well. It was disrespectful to the spirits.

Dakar felt the hair on the back of his neck and arms raise and he knew his mother was gathering the spirits to herself. He watched the living curtain anxiously. He was not allowed beyond it. His parents said that it was much too dangerous from him. He had had plenty of experience with the small vague spirits, but nothing strong enough to be even remotely dangerous. He had always wondered what laid beyond the curtain, but now was not the time to learn such things. He just wanted his mother to hurry up and finish.

Something small and blue flashed in and out of the corner of Dakar's eye. He waved at the pesky spirit dissmissively. He was definitely not in the, mood to play. The spirit came back, this time floating right before him. Dakar frowned at it and tried once more to get it to go away. It looked sort of like a small blue wisp of smoke. Sometimes, if Dakar tried very hard, he could almost make out the shape the spirit had once held. He was no interested in trying then, more preoccupied with the absence of both his mother and father. The spirit would not leave, however, and started to flicker back and forth, trying to get his attention.

"Go away!" Dakar hissed as he tried again to wave it away. He froze, however, when he heard someone scream in the temple. He scrambled to his feet, forgetting the spirit and devoting all of his energy in to listening. He glanced over at the curtain then back at the entrance of the gazebo.

"Mother..." He whispered so quietly he barely heard himself. The noise outside of the temple was slowly diminishing and Dakar decided he feared the silence more.

"Mother..."

The spirit swirled around him, clinging almost to his hands and face.

"Mother..."

Someone was running down the path, he could hear the twigs snapping as they rushed by, and the rustle of soft shoes on the path. Dakar was shivering and he wanted to reach out to his mother but all that was there was the spirit. He spread his fingers wide and tried to wrap them around the spirit. He could almost have sworn that he had actually felt something in his hand, as if the elusive smoke had some kind of mass to it, but he knew that was impossible.

A flustered young woman came around the corner and stumbled up into the temple. It took Dakar a moment to recognize which girl from the village it was. Kami's hair was falling out of her ponytail and her face was flushed bright red with wet trail marks on her cheeks as well as an already growing bruise on her right cheek bone. Her blue nightgown was torn and filthy with dirt and blood. She was probably the most frightening thing he had ever seen.

Dakar began to cry loudly again, starting off very softly then growing loud as she ran towards him. She was only fourteen herself, but she still seemed to feel responsible for him. She grabbed him painfully by the wrist and dragged him along behind her and away from his mother. She stumbled across the path, him in tow, and through the gardens, never saying a word to him. Dakar squeezed is eyes shut and cried pitifully. He tripped once, but before he even reached the ground Kami had dragged up back up to his feet and was still running. With his short legs he had no chance of keeping up with her. When he tripped a second time his knees grinded down on the gravel path and his hands slid across it, tearing up his palms. The sharp pain stopped his crying and he looked up through his red bangs just in time to see Kami run around the corner and leave him behind.

He whiped his nose on his sleeve and sat back to examine his surroundings. It was so dark that it was hard to make out much of anything. Dakar had never spent much time in the temple at night. Because of that, he had a hard time making out just where he was.

"Mother...Kami?" He whispered. Suddenly he felt something in him shiver, making his whole body tremble. He hugged himself and bent over, suddenly very frightened. He had never felt so cold in his life as he did when he felt that something in him shrivel up and die.

"Father..."

Dakar shoved himself up to his feet and started to run. He did not know where he was going, just that he wanted to be anywhere but there. Suddenly the little blue spirit from before appeared before him, lightening up the path at his feet. Barely noticed it through his tears, but when it turned down a new path, he followed it. After running for some time he began to realized where it was leading him. He started to run faster, he wanted out of there, immediately.

It was not till he rounded the corner and saw the fire and smoke that he smelt it. The temple garden itself was burning. Dakar stopped and stared at it in shock. The blue spirit swirled around his face, passing his eyes repeatedly trying to get his attention. It wanted him to keep moving, but he was not listening.

And again, Dakar felt cold grip him like an iron fist, squeezing the life out of him. This time, however, it was followed by a painful bright burning sensation lashing through his brain. He collapsed to the floor and curled in on himself clothing his temples to try to stop the burning.

"Mother...no!" He whimpered. His mother had died while using the energies of some of the most powerful spirits in the temple and the backlash from her death almost made Dakar lose consciousness as he laid on the ground oblivious to the fire before him. It hurt, everything hurt. When he opened his eyes and saw his little spirit floating before him, it glowed so brightly he thought it would burn him alive. He squeezed his eyes shut but the image imprinted on his eyes of the grown woman bending over him in concern.

Finally the glow died down, and he carefully opened his eyes. He did not see the woman any more, just the small shapeless wisp of pale blue smoke. It was swirling around him slowly. Dakar suddenly became aware that his skin felt hot and that the smoke was almost smothering him. He squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath as he stumbled to his feet and ran back the way he had come.

He ran towards the back of the temple; afraid of what he would find in the other direction and afraid of what would find him. It was not far until the garden stopped and so did the temple. Soon he was running barefoot through the underbrush of the woods. He did not stop until he reached his secret hiding place, a holed out tree trunk large enough to hold him in it. He clambered up inside once he reached it and tried not to cry too loudly. Eventually he fell asleep and when he woke, the blue spirit was gone.

::poke poke:: Reviews? Please? Preferably criticism. I'm a glutton for punishment! If you thought it sucked, then tell me! Not that I'll necessarily agree, but I'd love to hear what you've got to say!

Sophie