#burns05

because his power were inate.

Oh my god, they did it

What Duffers had no guts to put on screen, this show finaly did it in the finale.

Night 964-Matawa

Chapter 37: Chapter 37 - Night 964-Matawa

Summary:

The Wisdom Bringer The voice of the one who haul in the desert Cassandra, the Unbelieved Oracle

Matawa. 

The jewel of the Tribe. The daughter of the Shaman. The most beautiful girl in the world. The untouchable princess. The delicate one. The flower. The sensitive one. The joy. The caress. The mercy. The one who see trough the darkness. The girl who had everything. The girl who had everything, but the thing that mattered.

The saddest girl in the universe. The loneliest girl in the world. 

Chapter 35: Chapter 35 - Night 967-The first shadow

Summary:

967 nights ago

Chapter Text

A scream into the dark. Arms taking away her. Matawa ! Arms taking away her . Moki ! "Take the blame on you Moki ! Give her a chance"  The dagger in the hand of the girl found easily his way to the flesh of one of the warriors, making him scream.  Then another, making the other to take a step forward. Enough for her  to find the  way out. Not before intentionally hurting another warrior, the one that was the leader of the pack. Anpa was there with his nostril in the air, sensing the danger. He made noise, had neighed, but it was too late. Moki cut in a second the rope on the horse legs, then jumped on his back. A single fraction of second she look back, and smiled. The first man who was cut, already was falling by the blood loss. The other three , lured outside in anger, forgetting about the other girl. They must be silenced. The secret must be kept. Matawa must be protected. Moki must lure them away - this was the reason to be for Moki in that moment. Anapa understand and started to run. He could run more quickly than any mustang in the prairie, but  he knew what Moki wanted. To lure them as they did so many times with other beasts. Matawa, the daughter of the shaman,  the most desired and inaccessible girl from the tribe.  Moki, the girl of no one, the feared warrior girl. Born at the edge between night and day when the morning light chases away the shadows of darkness, her mother died at birth. Maybe that was the reason for Moki to hang out on life and fight. Her father, was not much later killed by a grizzly in the woods so Moki was left alone. The shaman took her as his own daughter and after few months, his women give birth to a girl, Matawa. Her name was choose because the shaman had a vision a night before.  Matawa - the one who could see clear, the one who can see beyond. But if if you think the two girls were to grow together, that was not  true. The day Matawa was born , on the same reason, the vision he had, the shaman requested the girl to be raised by Kimiwan, a single old women, who had nothing to do but to rise that girl.  Because of her age, Kimiwan was doomed to forget things. Sometime she was found near the creek of the river, looking in the distance, as if she saw someone from the past but he could not recognise. Unfortunately, because of his ill, Kimiwan frequently forgot Moki in the next year in the rain, sun, even in the snow. But somehow, Moki survived all that and later on she was able to move, then to walk, then to run. At the age of 10 she was a beautiful child, forged by her childhood and the life alongside Kimiwan. She loved the woods and the river and there were no other boy better at reading the tracks of the beasts in the woods - it was a reason that from that age she and Kimiwan felt again how it is to be part of the tribe, not only  to live at the edge. Moki grew as a beautiful girl, but when her breasts started to rise, the interest of the boys for her company outside the duty as member of the tribe was very low, because in the short time, before the childhood and adolescence, she was a fearful as a warrior. Even if she was fragile compared to them, because the hard life was not imprinted in her body, she used her mind and agility to beat and as a consequence, humiliate each time , on fights or hunting, or contests, all of the boys at her age. It was not a real competition because in the end, all were friends at that age - or that way should have been.  If the boys feared her, the opposite happened with animals. She was the one who trained the dog pack that helped the tribe to hunt easier and with less danger the buffalo herds, she always left something to eat for brids and because of that Kimivan always could tell when Moki was nearby, based on the way the birds were singing in her presence. But something that even the adults of the tribe envy, was Anpa.   .....

go buy the new dvd that will be relased in a month Why should anyone buy that ? Still queer biting, still not ashamed of what they have done. But yes, they own it

Chapter 27: 975 The number of the beast

Summary:

At the edge of the 27 night , in the distance the horizon was red. Until the afternoon the entire realm looked to the menacing clouds of dust in the distance. The sandstorm. Red. Then dark Sheherezada spoke:

Chapter 15: 987 games of ilusions

Summary:

but when the night settled over the califat, Sheherezada started again to speak

Chapter Text

The large hall of the Alabaster Citadel was full of people when the doors opened again that same day. Every living man and woman had heard about the events of the evening and wanted to know what happened next. The hall could not hold all the people who wished to enter, and some of them were forced to wait outside. The entire life of the citadel was almost paralyzed.

Yet neither the twins nor Al-Shaun thought about the coming storm, completely hypnotized by their own success. As the curtains once again covered the windows, Kāhin spoke:

"The rest of the event was canceled. Everyone left the court looking determined to find Will, except for three boys who were questioned all day about the missing one. As the hours of the day turned to dust, the air of the realm started to feel heavy for Mike and the other boys. And it was not merely a sensation born of despair; the sky started to darken, minute by minute, until a heavy rain began to fall at twilight. The teams who searched for the lost one returned with nothing, and because of the storm, the Wise Men of the City called off the search. The rest of the Party were allowed to return to their homes, freed from the duties of the coming days, but commanded to report any whisper or memory they recalled that could solve the mystery.

But Mike and the boys could not follow the path back to their homes. It was decided: even if the dams of the rivers broke, they must find Will, or at least discover what had happened.

'Lucas, I put all my faith in your skills,' Mike prayed in the cold rain, his heart shattered. 'We need to walk the same path we know Will took, even if it is the last thing we ever do!' Mike’s eyes were full of determination. Though his body was only that of a boy, there was something great shining through his armor that breathed new life into Dustin and Lucas: they had to find their friend, now that all the world had let him down.

So they began to search Mirkwood, guided through the darkness and cold of the night only by luck, faith, and Lucas’s instinct. This was how they found the place where Will had disappeared, and where the signs of the explosion were still visible.

'What could have happened here?' Dustin asked himself. 'Mike, I don't want to make you worry more than we already are, but this is unlike anything I have ever seen. And if Will's disappearance has something to do with what we found, I think...' Dustin cut himself off as Lucas, alert, gestured for them to keep silent, because through the rain, he heard a sound. Guided by Mike, they approached a bush whose branches were still moving. Carefully, they parted the branches, prepared for any danger with their blades drawn, only to collide with a small child shivering from the cold, blinded by the light of the lamp Dustin carried, nearly knocking Mike to the ground.

'It's not Will,' Mike spoke, his voice heavy with disappointment.

At the sight of the three boys, the small child wanted to run away, but Lucas stopped him, gently holding him by the arm. The child was wearing a long robe made of a thin material, and his hair was so short he appeared to have been shaved, just beginning to grow back. But Lucas was hit by a sudden realization at almost the exact moment Mike repeated himself, louder and more nervous this time:

'It is not Will! Let him go, we need to find Will!!!!'

Both Lucas and Dustin turned their eyes back to the agitated Mike.

'Mike... it’s a girl...'

Angered, Mike replied, 'So what? What do we have to do with her or him or whatever? We need to find Will!!!!'

Lucas spoke, sounding shocked. 'So we are just going to leave a girl alone in the woods, Mike? At night, when something bad has already happened, and it's raining? Don't you see how afraid she is?'

Lucas's words almost hit a wall. Mike’s eyes finally focused on the shaking girl, as if it were the first time he was truly seeing her, his mind having been entirely disconnected from reality until that exact moment. He looked back at Lucas, then at Dustin, understanding the impossible situation.

'You can go with her. I will search for Will.'

'No, Mike.' This time it was Dustin who spoke. 'It is already late, and we can't do anything more than what we've already done. We need to warm ourselves, and her. I will not let you kill yourself for nothing.'

'Will is not nothing!!!' shouted Mike.

'I know, Mike. You know what I mean,' Dustin replied, ending the verbal fight.

Dustin had right on his side. There was nothing more they could do, and even though Mike did not want to abandon the search, he was a Paladin, and he had a duty. Besides, Will would never forgive such a heartless letdown from Mike's side.

'OK then... can you walk?' Mike addressed the girl, who still hadn't made a sound. She confirmed with a shivering nod of her head. Even though Mike looked angry, Lucas and Dustin offered her comfort, and she trusted them.

'Do you have a name? Do you have a place to stay?'

Because the girl shook her head negatively, after a brief debate, the boys decided to head to Mike's barn to spend the rest of the night."

As the final words left Kāhin’s lips, he was forced to stop. There was no silence in the overflowing hall of the Alabaster Citadel; instead, a low, collective sound instantly broke across his voice—a deep, rolling murmur that rippled from the front rows all the way out to the crowds waiting in the cold outside the doors. Kāhin paused, listening closely, but he understood right away that nothing was wrong. The audience was entirely theirs.

It was a fractured, heavy sound. In one corner of the hall, the quiet gasps and hushed, emotional voices spoke of Mike—of the visible shattering of his heart, and the terrible weight of the sacrifice he had just made when he turned his back on the dark forest. In another section, the murmur was sharp with anxiety, a tense whispering of Will’s name from people whose eyes remained glued to the stage, their faces tight with worry for the boy left alone in the bleeding rift.

But as the seconds ticked by, the nature of the murmur shifted, swelling into a restless, haunting hum of pure mystery.

"A shaved head..." a voice muttered in the dim light.

"In the thickets, right where the flame exploded..." another whispered.

"Who is he? A girl? Why was she there?"

In the back of the hall, Al-Shaun smiled again: his plan worked.

*** This time, the Sultan interrupted Scheherazade with an explosion of anger:

"That vermin Al-Shaun is disgusting, but I cannot wait to hear about his fate and the one of those two manipulators!"

Scheherazade looked at the Sultan with understanding. She saw how deeply the thread had hooked him. He was no longer just a ruler judging a story; he was a man desperate for the balance of the blind lady named Justice.

"The wheel of the realm turns slowly, my King," Scheherazade replied softly, her voice carrying the quiet weight of The 987th Night. "But no blueprint is infallible, and even the most meticulous trap leaves a thread hanging for those brave enough to pull it."

She glanced toward the high windows of the chamber, where the very first pale lines of dawn were beginning to bleed into the sky, forcing the shadows to retreat.

"But the sun rises, my lord, and my time for this night has faded. If you grant me your patience, tomorrow the barn will open, the rain will speak its secrets, and maybe the path to the true answer will begin."

Chapter 14: 988 - a little intervention from the author

Summary:

The stars returned to the sky so Sheherezada continued the story in front of the silent Sultan and frightened little sister:

Notes:

By now, reader, if you've watched Stranger Things you know where the story is going. You already understand who the characters are and why this text was written. So you can move on. It's a story like so many others, after all. If you stay, I can't promise anything. I don't know where the story will go beyond the things we already know and have been told. I can't promise that Mike and Will will have anything but a happy ending. But I promise that if there is anything else, it will be from the heart.

Chapter Text

On the following morning, Mike was hoping to see Will on his road to the palace gates, expecting his friend's familiar silhouette to appear through the low dawn mist. His heart hammered against his ribs with a restless, frantic rhythm, driven by a feeling he could not explain.

But as he reached the crossroad where the paths from their houses usually met, the dirt path lay completely empty, save for the cold dew clinging to the grass. There was no sign of the purple hood, no quiet voice waiting to greet him. The crushing realization that his brother, the one soul tied to his own, was truly gone into the void settled over the young Paladin like a shroud of lead.  ( to be continued ) ***

The Sultan could not take it anymore.

"Sheherazade. Where are your stories going? I hope you won't stop again as in the previous ones. I did not forget how you switched one with another. But, Sheherazade, your mind and beauty will not stop me from beheading you if you continue to starve me of the closure I need."

The words were violent, but the voice of the Sultan sounded more like a prayer than an order. Sheherazade raised her head a little, but stopped before her eyes met those of the Sultan.

"My King, to deceive or disrespect you is the farthest desire in my heart," she spoke with a tremor in her voice. "But there are more than thirty thousand threads and more that I need to spin and put together to delight you. And even though there is more to tell, with your indulgence, I will continue. Patience is the virtue of the wise, and you are the wisest man in the realm."

The Sultan closed his eyes, a slow, exhaled breath escaping his lips. "Speak then, Sheherazade," he murmured, his voice now entirely devoid of the king and entirely filled with the man. "Spin your thirty thousand threads. But weave them true. Do not leave them frayed in the wind."

Sheherazade bowed until her forehead touched the heavy Persian rug, and when she rose, the tremor in her voice had vanished, replaced by the steady assurance of a master weaver.

"Then let us return, O King, to the true thread. Not the one of the lonely writer in New York, nor the one where the boy waits in the dark for a tomorrow that never comes. Let us speak of the Ribat of the Seven Dawns, where the Paladin and the Cleric should stand at the edge of the world. I promise you my king, the fate of the deceivers was sealed from the moment  their injustice were thought" Then Sheherezade with eyes shooting lightnings continued the story

***

In the silence of the big hall of the city, Kāhin let the story settle, then his voice was heard again:

"The empty crossroads left an icy chill in Mike’s chest that the rising morning sun could not thaw. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back, to run to Will’s house and tear down the door until he found him. But the heavy tolling of the distant citadel bells reminded him of his duty; today was Reclamation Day, and attendance was mandatory for every young Paladin. He forced his boots to move forward along the dusty highway, driven by the hope that he would find his Cleric in the courtyard of the Reclamation. His heart became as small as the tip of a needle when he found only Dustin and Lucas."

"Where is Will?" impatiently asked Mike.

"Is he not with you?" responded Lucas.

"Of course not!"—this time Mike started to lose his temper. "You can see with your own eyes he is not with me. I need to find him."

"Mike!"—the arm of Dustin stopped Mike. "You can't go now. If you go, you will be arrested. I am sure Will is ok. What is wrong with you?" This time Dustin was worried.

Mike tried to calm himself down. "Breathe, Michael, breathe"—these were the words used by Will when Mike was losing control, and breathing deep felt to Mike like Will was there with them.

"Maybe I am overreacting," thought Mike. "Maybe I am just overthinking. Will is OK." Mike needed Will to be OK. There was a side of his heart that could not allow Mike to think deeper, because even Mike's mind could not completely comprehend it—losing Will was something that could break him in an instant.

"The three boys were forced to march into the grand courtyard of the Reclamation, taking their places among the rows of silent initiates. The air inside the citadel was heavy with the scent of incense and old, polished steel, yet to Mike, it smelled only of a coming storm. He stood rigid in his linen robes, his eyes scanning the crowd of youths, frantically searching for a shock of brown hair, for the quiet posture of the Wise Seer. But there was only a hollow space where Will should have stood.

When the High Elders stepped onto the alabaster dais, their voices booming with the absolute weight of law and tradition, they began to read the rolls of the destined. One by one, names were called. Youths stepped forward to receive their heavy iron shields, their scholarly scrolls, or their scout’s cloaks. Lucas was called to the path of the Ranger, his jaw tightening as he stepped out of line. Dustin was called to the high towers of strategy and lore, a heavy book placed into his hands.

Then came the turn of the magic-users. The Grand Mystic stepped forward, his eyes cold and unblinking under his hood.

'Will of the House of Byers,' the Elder’s voice echoed off the high stone arches.

Silence fell over the courtyard. No one stepped forward.

'Will of the House of Byers,' the Elder repeated, sharper this time, a note of dark suspicion cutting through his ritual tone.

Mike felt the blood drain from his face. The fire in his chest, usually so volatile, turned into a block of absolute ice. Beside him, Dustin’s knuckles turned white against his new book, and Lucas looked back over his shoulder, his scout's eyes filled with a sudden, sharp panic. To miss the Reclamation was an act of high treason against the realm—a crime punished by exile or the deep dungeons. Will would never willingly hide. He would never choose a path that left Mike standing alone on the altar of their destiny.

The Elder closed the scroll with a heavy, final snap that sounded like a breaking bone.

"The Seer is absent. The law must be enforced," the Elder’s voice boomed across the silent hall.

Mike closed his eyes in sheer despair. He knew what came next. The scribes would mark Will as a Renegade, banishing him from the kingdom forever before he could even defend himself.

But then, the unthinkable happened.

From the shadows of the dais, the Grand Lord of the Sentinels—the absolute master of the kingdom's military and physical defenses—stepped forward, breaking the rigid protocol to approach the Grand Mystic. A low, terrified murmur rippled through the gathered initiates. Such an interruption had not occurred during a Reclamation ceremony for eons. Something was seriously, terribly wrong.

Mike forced his eyes open, looking up just in time to see the heavy gazes of the High Elders shift. On the raised platform, the four Wise Men of the realm turned their heads in unison, questioning Lucas, Dustin, and Mike with cold, piercing eyes that seemed to look right through their skin.

In that suffocating silence, Mike’s darkest fears were instantly proven true. Will was not missing by his own choice. He had not run away, nor had he broken the law out of fear. Will was not a traitor , but that relief was not enough to compensate the truth. Something took Will. And that something was powerful enough not to let any clue.