A Coyote's Last Days
The coyote looked around for any of the other animals with the accursed dark fur- those would be the ones who all but eliminated his people in wars that had spanned the decades and centuries beforehand. He was just a victim as was his entire people of brutality by an aggressor race of dark-colored tribes. He could still recall when his father died at the hands of these evil men. But he remembered his father's last words.
"Be strong, Mori. You are the last of your kind in this world. And you, Mori are the only hope for our world" his father, a strong and mighty hero, a captain of the guard for whom the mightiest warriors who ever lived fought would tell him as the injuries inflicted by the dark-furred ones claimed him. Mori's heart burned with hatred for the enemy tribe who killed his father and his friends whom he cared for deeply. Their actions were beyond forgiveness- razing entire cities, the destruction of the smallest cubs, and the wholesale slaughter of the Lightfurs.
But his tribe knew something which the others did not- the record of how a visionary wolf named Lahi and his sons sailed unimaginable distances to find the "Land of Promise". But a splinter group of easily-angered, disobedient men who had come to the Land of Promise had unfortunately joined them, headed by one of Lahi's sons. They lived enslaved to their own desires- it was for this reason that the settlers were split into two groups.
The first group craved peace and lived in a valley of greenery, tending crops and never having to study war, except for self-defense- these were the Lightfurs, Mori's people. But this disobedient and angry mob, gave birth to a race of warlike savages which killed and raped and ransacked the land. These despicable men known as Darkfurs, their loathsome and dark coloration a result of their wickednes and rebellion, an indication of the evil desires which resided in their hearts. The ancestors of the Lightfurs were forced into a war against their brothers, a war which had lasted for centuries, a war which had eliminated all but Mori as the last surviving member of the Lightfur race.
The Darkfurs had no idea the sacrifices made or the grand civilizations which once lived across what was once a vast and at that point sparsely-populated stretch of land. And they had no idea about the peace that should have occurred- how could two tribes who shared common ancestors constantly be at war?
Mori remembered how his father, a great captain of 10,000 warriors fought valiantly until the bitter end but they too succumbed to their enemies. From his dying father's paw, this coyote was given his people's most prized possession, something that the leaders of the tribe had protected feverishly from the Darkfurs to this day- leather-bound books of their tribe's history, which revealed the origins of not only their people but of the ones fighting them as well. This book was the only one of its kind the Lightfurs owned that had survived the fires of war. (How could a race fighting for its survival make written records constantly fighting all the time?)
In it one would read how the Lightfurs, rose to prominence in the Southern Paradise of and their eventual decline once they stopped obeying the kings and sages of this land. One could also find chilling prophecies of the destruction of entire races- Mori knew that someday his people would become extinct at the hands of these barbarians. Between hiding in caves and in the open wilderness, covering his scent trails through the freshly-fallen snows of that region and having his muzzle and eyes open for the scents and sounds of enemies, Mori had read the histories.
He read of the nobles far to the south who bent their knees whenever the Ancient Law, the cornerstone of their civilization was read aloud by the great kings, which included the Royal Family of Benjamin,the wise lion who in spite of being a king, lived humbly and whose passions in life were serving his nation and protecting the writings of the Lightfurs. How much better it would be to live in those golden years of peace and prosperity than in this dark time when the end was nigh?
And what could the coyote say to discredit the Law, written thousands of years ago in the Old Land? It formed the basis of society and these nomadic people traveling north carried the Law with them. Mori still dreamed of one day returning to that sun-warmed tropical paradise to the south and re-establishing that civilization but he was always being chased by enemies. So for decades, the exiled Mori moved further north into colder and more inhospitable climes, his dark-furred and hate-blinded enemies chasing him at every turn. The warmth of a summer afternoon, the greenery of those forests, the crystal-clear skies, the salty smell of those blue waters... all had become nothing more than a sweet memory to a coyote who had spent decades adapting to the cold winters of the northlands. Would he ever see home again? Would his death be as violent as the rest of his nations? And why was there no justice being done as a brutal and well-armed race wipe out an enlightened peace-loving one?
And then in his mind, he began reviewing the wars and the destruction of his homeland. Mori had seen his countrymen destroyed completely, his hometown now occupied by the enemies. And he also remembered how the Darkfurs laid waste to the friendly nations that had allied themselves with his countrymen. The coyote remembered the neighboring country of Tobashoa, the "Generous Land" with its fertile plains was turned into a barren wasteland. And then, in the final battle in Shomem, the desolate wasteland, Mori saw the genocide of his countrymen and was forced to head north, wondering why he was the only one spared.
These thoughts tormented the poor coyote as he began his night's rest in a cave which Mori was sure no one else would look. As soon as he fell asleep, the recurring nightmare of darkness swallowing light came to him. He was being dragged down into the abyss by unseen attackers to be tormented as had happened many nights before. But unlike those other nightmares, something different happened. Out of the corner of his eye, Mori saw a bright and shining light, a brilliant star out of this night.
"Do not be afraid of those who can kill your body, Mori." It was the reassuring voice of his father, claimed many years beforehand by the fighting. "You hold all that remains of our people in your fragile paws- you are afraid of history forgetting that the Lightfurs existed. If you follow my orders, our enemies will not be able to erase our people. When you arise, you shall find a hill- commit the books into the earth there."
"Why?" he asked into the darkness.
"The records will slumber in that hill and will be brought forth when the time is right. And there will be a people who will believe. At the end of the ages, when corruption will render the governments an abomination righteous men and women will come." And at once the darkness lifted and Mori's spirit embarked on a journey through time and space. Centuries passed as the coyote's soul ascended upward. The cave disappeared until the coyote could see the curvature of the earth- Mori saw that the cave was south of a large lake. He was whisked along faster than a shooting star south and east to the ocean
And he saw a city of many large towers, far larger than he could even imagine surrounded by the sea; it was so large that the buildings themselves sprawled over many islands- something told the coyote that this city was called "New York". It was as if the Southern Paradise had come back to life- yet it looked somehow different. And then he saw the inhabitants of this city, a delightful and happy throng of many different species wearing clothes very different from ones that Mori had ever seen before, carrying themselves with a peace and joy that was sadly absent from Mori's own life. Yet in spite of all they owned, they were still in despearte need.
"This is America," the disembodied voice of his father told Mori "Many centuries will pass before the Darkfurs will be replaced by the sons of settlers far from the east. They will be a successful people blessed with plentiful harvests, financial success, and peace. Yet they will turn their back on the Ancient Law, and many will ignore the history of the Lightfur, even as it is revealed to them as clear as sunlight.
And then he saw rising from the heights of the city, a beautiful white fortress, crowned with golden spires. From this building came various species, resplendent with an inner beauty, as if they were in love. "But in this future, in America, there will be a remnant of them that believe. The world will be in its final days yet in those days, a joyous and wonderful people will speak of our once-mighty race. Though much evil will be spoken of them, they will prove themselves as the most loyal and faithful men and women on earth."
Lastly, the coyote's soul was sent far to the south, where he saw the "narrow neck" the Lightfurs lived on until their annihilation. The land would be unified under a new banner- that of the country of "Mexico" in a state known as "Chiapas"- names really did not matter much now to Mori, as this would always be his home, the Southern Paradise. But his home had fallen apart, the temples and cities he had once known were crumbling, occupied by the Darkfurs, then laid waste by invaders after them. Once thiese cities had seen kings, sages, and prophets speak and magistrates rule, once this was Mori's home before the drums of war were beaten, now these cities were completely barren ruins.
"Do not cry, my son for the loss of our home. It was ordained that we would be annihilated as our own history would attest. For the loss of our earthly homes is nothing compared to the glory of the world we inherited upon death. My son..." the last sentence was delivered to the coyote with an ominous, foreboding, "you shall join us very soon."
And with that, the dream ended. Mori would like to stay there forever, talking to that comforting light with his father's voice and exploring the cities of the deep future but the coyote realized he had a mission left to complete. The time had come for the coyote to finish it. Mori knew full well that he was in incredible danger and knew that he would need incredible courage to stare death in the muzzle, perhaps even pay the ultimate price on account of his heritage. But, compared to the living nightmare of his people's destruction, the death of his parents and countrymen, and the utter desolation of his home, if the afterlife had relief, he'd take it. And upon that, the coyote awoke.
Suddenly, Mori smelled the unmistakable scent of canid interrupting his introspection over the death of his people and heard the noises of approaching pawsteps. Assuming they were the enemy, Mori left the cave carrying the leather-bound books, a stone case for it, and the meal of voles he had caught for the night and left. The predawn sky was giving way to the purple that comes before the sunrise when he saw the forested hill. His canid sense showed Mori that the land was soft for digging. And his paws were sharp for the task.
"In memory of our religion, and freedom, and our peace, our wives, and our children", he said, recalling an oath from his namesake uttered many years ago as he dug the stone case which enclosed the books into the soft earth. He would not know how long that the leather books would need to stay entombed in the earth but he knew at some point in the future, a later race of people would come and understand the history of the Lightfurs. Mori could only hope that the stone case would be strong enough to protect the books for however long it needed to be hidden. Then, Mori ran as far away as he could and like he had never run before so no one would know the location of the records, even if he was captured.
Mori had been running for what seemed like hours, with no idea where he was going when he saw a group of Darkfur wolves, swords drawn. He was too exhausted to run anymore or fight and the brutality of these wolves was great. They stripped him naked, beat him, and tortured him.
"If you reveal the locations of those books, you will be an honored man in their tribe. You will be showered in gifts and have many wives. The last of the Lightfurs deserves to be showered with many gifts, rather than death," the fools arrogantly stated, thinking that Mori would give up on his heritage.
"I will not give them up to you. I will not betray my heritage. I do not even know where I hid the books anymore." They took his honest admission as belligerence and continued beating him. One of the brutes took out a knife and asked him one final time "Where are the books of your people?"
"I do not know and even if I did, I would never reveal it."
One of the wolves jeered at him, and smacked him hard across the muzzle and then pulled out a knife, "You had better tell us where those books are..." placing the knife beside the coyote's throat "or the consequences will be severe."
"I don't fear you and I do not fear death. It is better for one man to die than an entire nation dwindle in disbelief."
"I have heard enough. Your time has come."
As the cruel, evil obsidian blade ran into the coyote's lungs and an increasing pool of his own lifeblood spilled to the floor, the coyote looked to the heavens. Mori wished someday that some later people would find his tribe's records and remember the kings, warriors, and sages that lived long ago, the glories of the South, and why the Lightfurs fell- hubris, the downfall of all civilizations.
And thus, the prophecy contained in those leather books, of how Mori's people would be utterly and completely destroyed were mere seconds away from happening. The sad tragic story of the destruction of the Lightfur people was complete. But even as those wolves viciously attacked and killed him, Mori wished them no remorse.
And as a growing puddle of his own blood coagulated near him, Mori finally felt at peace with the world. For this much the coyote knew, that someone would someday find the book and give his dying race the respect they deserved. And his final thoughts turned to the paradise in which he spent his childhood and of the hopeful future land. Mori knew someday the dream would come true. For the Southern Paradise. For America.