Oark waited for the rest of the tribe to rest for the night before tracking his old tribe back through the forest. It took him only a few hours to find where they'd been camping and seeing the sleeping figures angered him. Instead of acting on this anger he walked down to the creek and drank heartily from it and sat and listened to the tranquil sounds of the moving water in the night. He let his mind empty as he leaned against a tree by the waterside. Dipping his fingers into the gently moving waters he noticed his reflection in the moonlight. He noticed that he looked more relaxed than he had ever felt before though he was unsure of the exact reason why. It could have been he felt that way for having killed Awwt's murderer or it could have been the relief of his expansive mentality. Regardless of the root of the reason he felt happier despite the confrontation that he had planned for the dawn.

As dawn broke in the early hours in the morning Oark made his way from the calm stream and into the tribes camp. The tribe was just stirring from their sleep and as they saw him approaching the tribesmen rushed forward to stop him.

"Oark leave!" The tribesmen bellowed at him, "Oark no stay." Shaking his head at them and speaking with a solemn voice,

"No. I will not." His thoughts started pouring from his mouth and for the first time he felt the clarity of his mind exhibit in his speech, "You will follow Oark or Oark will kill you." The elders angrily grunted in hearing him say this. They started spitting towards him but he did not relinquish his resolve. Oark looked into the eyes of the tribesmen and saw the fear that ate them alive over the constant need to survive and he felt his own eyes soften. Then a sound cutting through the air whistling towards him made him turn his head just as it made contact. It happened so fast he couldn't react but instantaneously he felt as though he was on fire. Looking down he saw a spear penetrating his side and embedded into the ground at his feet. The spear passed cleanly through him but he was now pinned. Looking up at the tribe he started coughing and sputtering blood. Whistling through the air a second spear sunk through his chest. The oldest of the elders, Ukk, walked forward carrying his own spear.

"Oark die now." As Ukk spoke he sunk his spear into Oark's stomach. Oark coughed blood as he started choking on it pooling in his throat. He tried to talk but nothing could be heard over the gurgling as he struggled to breath. Within mere moments he felt the life leave his body as he felt himself die. Death itself was there once more, the hooded figure reached out and touched him as it had before. The overwhelming fear he'd felt before at the appearance of Death was gone. He accepted this second encounter with the ominous figure and let himself fall into the void of existence once more. His body hung limp against the spears and the tribe came and spat on his lifeless body. As Ukk came back to spit on Oark's body again he kicked him to the ground roughly. The spear penetrating his chest fell out and as it did Oark felt his mind stir. His eyes felt like light at the end of a long tunnel. As his eyes opened he roared and tore the spear from his side. The tribesmen and tribeswomen screamed as Oark came violently back to life. Ukk turned to leave but Oark caught him.

"Oark say follow me or die," Oark said as he stabbed Ukk in the same place that the elder had stabbed him at, "Follow me or you die!" Oark stood holding his side where he'd pulled the spear out of him. To his surprise he could feel the broken flesh growing back together and healing. Not instantaneously but it was extremely rapid. He stood erect and stepped over Ukk's body toward the others. Several of the tribeswomen moved forward and stood behind Oark. Seeing them side with Oark infuriated the elders and they bellowed protests. Oark grabbed the closest one to him and in one deft movement snapped the elders neck.

"Follow me or die." The dark words resonated in the camp. The entire tribe with heads hung low walked and stood beside Oark. Oark turned to start leading the old tribe towards the new tribe and as they walked his mind drifted quickly to him dying. Twice he had died but the first time he wasn't convinced that is what happened. When he fought with the pumas he had died in a pool of his own blood. It also hadn't escaped his attention that the burns he'd received trying to move the log off of Awwt. The glowing waters had let him live and had healed his wounds and scars. Then his thoughts drifted to his motivations as he merged the two tribes together. He wanted to help the tribesmen but they would need to follow his lead even if the things he would show them were dangerous and scary to them.

Upon merging the two tribes Oark discovered that the apprehension of the tribesmen were outweighed by the relief of the tribeswomen. The tribeswomen on both sides would ensure that this was a smoother transition. Oark gathered the younger tribesmen and sent them out in all directions to scout for signs of other tribes. Then with his business settled for the day he retreated back to his place by the creek. Everything had been so rushed for so long he just wanted to settle in and rest. Dipping his fingers into the gentle flowing waters and listened to the soft breeze pass through the leaves. Awwt's sister Hah came to him while he rested there. Hah looked similar to Awwt but with the thinner face and darker hair. The hair on her eyebrows was thicker and she had a thinner amount of hair on her arms. She was pretty for a tribeswomen but Oark was irked by the disturbance of his solitude. Hah reached out to him grabbing his shoulders and then felt his side where the spear had pierced him. Oark adjusted his arms to allow her a better look and she saw no wounds. Her curiosity amused him. They spoke briefly about his wounds and he told her they did not hurt. Dismissing her despite her forward behavior Oark moved further down the creek to his small stash of the glowing waters. He drank the last of it and felt the final bits of clarity reach the boundaries of his mind. That night he built a large bonfire to warm all the tribe and despite the fears of the tribesmen of the fire they all slept close for the warmth.

Dawn broke and Oark awoke to find Hah sleeping on his side. She was Awwt's younger sister and had never bonded as far as Oark was aware. He could feel her fears and confusion of the world around her. As with all the tribesmen they all lived with constant fear and he wanted to help them see the world without the persistent threats of the world. Moving away from Hah he rose to watch the dawn break the day and let his mind wander on to other thoughts and places. He was out of the glowing water but he also knew he'd be unable to go and get more when his tribe now depended on him. They would not be able to follow him into the land of fire beyond the mountains and for better or worse he'd already decided to hoard the glowing water for him and him alone.

In the hours that followed that morning two of the young scouts returned and told Oark of signs of tribes moving through the area but that neither could track them further. After sending them in different directions he started making plans for what to do with the people following him. He had an idea of better shelters but he had concerns about how to provide food. Remembering where he'd killed the young pumas in the pass between the mountains he started to make plans for the future of the tribesmen. The area was rich in food, wood, and it was close enough to the glowing water he could sneak there on his own. After all the scouts returned, one of which bringing back an entire tribe, Oark led all of the tribesmen in the largest tribe in existence towards the mountain pass. Towards their future.

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In the years that followed Oark watched his settlement flourish, first into a village and then into a sizable town. It was arguably the only such place that existed in the world where many tribes came together and stayed in one place. The shelters they had built were permanent structures to better protect from the fury of nature. The hardships had been severe the first few years but Oark helped the tribesmen learn to adapt and survive. Unlike the generations of Oark's youth these tribesmen now embraced fire and learned not to fear it. This aided a great deal in the tribesmen surviving the harsh winters that assaulted the pass between the mountains. Oark encouraged the others to help expand his own ideas on food gathering, hunting, and storing foods for times when they couldn't be found as easily. It took several years but eventually the tribesmen following Oark had figured out ways to grow more food by breaking the roots they could grow multiple plants instead of just one. Small breakthroughs like these helped to combat the hunger that was often felt in these earliest days. Oark helped develop nets to better catch fish and the tribesmen discovered ways of preserving the meat better using salt gathered from rocks. The tribesmen had come a long ways from those that had first arrived with Oark many years ago. The oldest tribesmen alive in this modest village were among the youth that came when Oark first established this settlement.

Oark reflected on the years that had passed and the many winters he'd endured as he looked into his reflection in the creek that ran beside the village. The youth that had arrived with him when the village was established were now quite visibly elderly members of the village. He looked into his reflection and studied his long brown hair; which was still length-wise down to his knees. He studied his muscles and admired the structure of his veins over them. He smiled at himself and his still youthful appearance and then he looked into his eyes and the smile faded. In his eyes he could see his true age, and he could see he'd far outlived any other tribesmen. Within just a few more years there would would be none alive from before he'd drank from the strange glowing waters. To this day whenever he could steal the chance to sneak away he would and he would drink from his special waters in the forbidden lands. To his disappointment the last time he'd arrived at the cave the glow of the rock had faded even more than the year before and the pool of water had shrunk considerably. He habitually killed and ate any creature he came across in the cave or surrounding area to ensure they did not drink from his pool but it did not resolve the issue that the waters were slowly receding as the years past. He feared he would die when the waters ran out and he could no longer drink from them. The first fear of death he'd felt in years.

Decades came and went and Oark would still walk along the creeks and stare at his unchanging reflection. The tribesmen began to tell stories of their great leader and his unchanging physique. The old would tell the young that he looked the same as when they themselves were young. As time progressed there were tales of him being told in varying dialects in the thriving village and surrounding areas. The dialect and language spoken commonly by tribesmen these days was very different from the language he was taught at birth; a language now lost in the passage of time. This newer language allowed greater communication and consisted of more sounds besides grunts and howls. The world had changed around him while he stood unchanged through time. Time had passed painfully slow for him as he watched generation after generation come and go among the tribesmen.

During one of Oark's habitual nightly walks along the creek on the outskirts of his village he found himself admiring the moonlight reflecting off the surface of the water. The gentle sound of water trickling as it passed the contours of rocks and dirt moving downstream was calming. He'd had a busy day settling disputes amongst his tribesmen and needing this time to relax before going yet again into his role of mediator and leader in the morning. Letting his eyes pass casually over the shadows amoung the bushes along the creek he admired how the moonlight manipulated the umbra effect. His eyes then settled on one shadow that was moving steadily towards him. Startled he jumped for his short spear but the shadow had already overtaken him. A female figure stood before him scantily clad in loose linens not made from furs but seemingly woven from the stars themselves. He admired her nearly translucent skin, clearly untouched by the sun, contrasting to his own deeply tanned skin. Her hair was pin straight and black as midnight with eyes to match in an eerie mirror. Her womanly curves were all well developed but not disproportionate to her body size. Her facial features were both sharp yet delicate though he did notice her ears were slightly elongated and pointed at the tips.

"Kneel mortal. For I am Sidh, the daughter of Death." Oark felt fear ripple through the world around him as her shrill words rippled through the air. He couldn't help but feel she'd intentionally manipulated her voice to make her voice high pitched. As such he didn't feel the fear that he felt pass by him. Unflinching and unkneeling he peered into her lovely features and noticed the soft curl of her lip as her nose flared in his disobedience.

"Greetings Sidh, I am Oark." As he spoke Oark boldly took a step forward which caused Sidh to flinch and step back. Shaking her head she regained her composure and moved forward again.

"I know of you Oark. You have outlived any creature that has ever lived on this world. It is time for you to come to Death. My father sent me personally to collect you." As she spoke she extended her hand and it delicately slipped from under her linen. Small delicate fingers and a dainty wrist extended forward towards him, "I need only touch you for you to join Death." Oark felt his heart pound loudly and foolishly he reached out to her as though to relish that Death himself felt it was his time and after all these many decades he would finally rest. The other part of him was excited to touch Sidh, even for the briefest of moments before his death. Their fingers touched and power rippled through his arm, across his chest, into every facet of his body. They stood there holding hands and he waited but he did not die. Smirking he tugged her wrist and she was pulled to him, her hands landing with reserve and hesitation on his chest. Her eyes grew wide as she looked up into his eyes he boldly tilted her chin up. The moonlight reflected radiantly from her eyes as he leaned down and kissed her. She tensed at first but then relaxed and returned the kiss until a soft sound of a branch dipping into the stream startled her.

"No." Sidh looked at Oark confused by how he still stood there smirking. She pulled herself back from him but he grabbed her wrist, "I said no!" Her voiced raised she struck Oark in the chest with the full brunt of her power. He felt the touch of death pass straight through him and into the world beyond him. A beautiful aura of blues and violets radiated out from her hand and wisped around him. As these wisps of living light stretched past him they killed everything they touched; fish rose from the stream, insects dropped dead in mid-flight, trees withered, grass shriveled, and the death passed by him without scathing him. Amused Oark released her wrist.

"Good night Sidh, daughter of Death."