RATING: K - M

Warning: Suggestive adult themes

Synopsis: This occurs after Nux sacrificed himself and dies in the movie. A wandering healer and his apprentice are given the task to revive Nux from the dead and reunite him with the woman he loves. This is Nux's journey to return to Capable.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: The first few chapters will set up the Miras Tribe and the ritual to revive Nux; afterwards it will turn into primarily Nux/Capable chapters. I do not own Nux or Capable or Mad Max. I do, however, own Miras the Goddess of Wanderers, Utsaah, the Elevated Healer, and his apprentice in this story—they are my Original Characters. This story is a bit 'out there' and not 'norm', but stay with me, and I promise it'll be worth it! Thank you. – G.G.

CHAPTER ONE

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"Utsaah, why do we not leave this man's body here? Why him?"

"Child, what the spirits show is true. This man's path has not yet ended, and have led us here to bring him back to his path."

The child looked up at the elderly healer and down at the lifeless body of a young man, pale and bloodied. It had taken them hours to remove the man's body from under the rubble of the fallen rocks and crumpled vehicles, and to move him to a leveled ground for their observation.

"He's dead, there's nothing we can do. He's just another broken man!" The child explained in frustration, nudging the man's body lightly on the side of his shoulder with his bare feet. "Look! He is as lifeless as the others we've found in this death site!"

Utsaah gave the child berating frown of disapproval.

"Boy, it is no greater act than to mistreat the body of a man who has been chosen!" Utsaah pointed a finger at the young child, who looked at him wearily and took a step away from the body lying on the ground in front of them.

The child bit his lip and nodded his head. He still did not fully understand how the Spirit of Miras, Goddess of the Wanderers, chose who it was that they were to save. He wondered if the Miras spoke to Utsaah through dreams or if she provided signs that only an Elevated Healer could follow. The child wondered if he would be able to learn the secrets of their tribe when he grew older and completed his training. He knew he had many years left, but as the days grew longer and the sun hotter, he started to wonder if the path of to become an Elevated Healer was really one that he should follow.

"How can you be certain he's the one to be saved?" The child asked, looking at the body in front of them, and then averting his gaze to their surroundings and noting the other dead bodies around them. They had spent days looking through the wreckage and uncovering many bodies from the rubble until Utsaah exclaimed with assertiveness that they've found a Chosen.

To the child's frustration, the Elevated Healer did not answer him, but simply continued on with his tasks. The child sighed, defeated. He knew that if Utsaah had led them to this man's body under the guides of the Goddess, then it was his task to assist him in ensuring that they help in making sure the man lives. He just hoped that soon Utsaah would answer his questions.

"Come here, child," Utsaah ushered the child to hunch down next to the side of the body. Both of them studied the body closely. The elderly healer pointed his hands at the dead man's chest and noted the markings there.

"What is it?" The child leaned forward and tried his best to guess to himself what the markings—clearly carved upon his chest and created through scarring meant. The unknown man's face was also marred by scar engravings, which he clearly could make was to match that of a skull.

"Utsaah, what do these marking mean? I've never seen them before!" He asked again.

"This, my child, is a sign of the War Boys."

"War Boys?"

"They are the vessels of a ruler not far from here. They are his army, and these markings are their signs of their acceptance of being the vessel, the automaton of a man of evil."

"Do all of them have these?" The child curiously traced the marking on the man's pale chest. They were intricate carvings, some older than the others, and appeared deep. "Is it some kind of thing?"

"It is the engine of the vehicles they ride," Utsaah explains, "It is their markings of choice, such as our people choose our markings."

The healer pointed to the child's cheeks and also his own, which were marred by a series of black swirling patterned tattoos with their intricate scripts in writing. At the age of five the menn of the Miras Tribe were tattooed with the scriptures and symbols of the Goddess Miras, whom they worship.

The Miras tribe would go forth and complete their paths as healers of the barren wasteland, often in groups of two or four, often including one Elevated Healer, a person who spoke to Miras directly, and an apprentice to take their place.

Outsiders called them 'reanimators' base on the legends and whispers about their abilities to bring people back from the dead. Some referred to them as 'ghosts' since those who encounter them often would see them disappear as quickly as they have appeared, with no trace of where they came from or gone too. The child was curious to see how it was that they brought the Chosens back from the dead.

"Will his markings remain when we awaken him, Utsaah?"

The Elevated Healer shook his head. "When he awakens, his body will be fully healed, and these scars will be gone and any ailment on his soul will be cast out."

"The scars...they'll disappear."

"Yes, child. He will be War Boy no more."

"Will he remember how he died?... His past?"

Utsaah nodded, "They will remain, but he will also glimpse into his future."

The Chosens were men who died with unfinished paths, often times taken from the world before they ever felt the true blossoms of love, or so Utsaah had told the child in the case of this man they were to revive.

"Will be feel pain, when we begin the ritual?"

"To feel pain will mean to live, both in mind, body and soul, my child."

The child touched the intricate carvings on the man's chest again, curious to know who he was and what his past may have been. Most importantly he wondered who it was that he would be returning to, and who was shedding tears for his death.

To Be Continued...