by Kyle West
Isaru and I had decided it would be best to approach Colonia from the north, since it was likely the city would keep more of a watch on its eastern side, given that was the most direct way to the Red Wild. Circling around to the north would also mean we could add a few more hours to our time, meaning we wouldn’t arrive in Colonia too early. We needed the night to mask our approach.
As morning passed into afternoon, I wondered when, or if, we were ever going to eat. I knew there were far more important things than food, but not being properly energized for tonight could be our downfall. Jorla must have felt my unease, because she shifted toward the right, where a large stand of xenotrees grew on the banks of a winding stream. As we approached, I saw that there were small huts rising from a xen-covered island around which a rushing stream split. The colors of those huts blended in so well with the surrounding terrain that I would have never seen it without Jorla.
“A village,” I said.
“A Wilder village,” Isaru said. “I suppose this is where we’ll find dinner.”
“How do we know they’re friendly?”
Isaru shrugged. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
“That’s comforting.”
As we lowered to the ground, I could make out people moving between the huts. Some were lounging and chatting, others still walking in the web of trees that lined either side of the stream, though the island itself was kept mostly clear. If one thing was clear, it was that Wilder Elekai lived much differently from people in Haven, Nava Village, or the Sanctum. The village was so remote that likely they rarely, if ever, saw people from more civilized lands.
Several of the villagers, at last, spied Jorla, signified by their pointing upward. They seemed to be excited, some of them jumping up and down; apparently, dragons were a rare sight around here. I wondered how they knew the difference between her and a Mindless dragon. Soon, a large space was cleared for Jorla’s landing, right in the center of the village. She alighted softly on the xen-covered earth, right in the middle of the surrounding huts situated in the shape of a circle.
“They seem friendly to me,” Isaru said.
Indeed, the villagers were talking excitedly as we dismounted, but I couldn’t understand a word they said. The Red Wild was so impassable that villages separated by a mere twenty miles could speak entirely different languages, and they’d had centuries to evolve. These people, for the most part, were tall, fair-skinned, and men went bare-chested while the women wore tunics of a fine weave, though the cut was much shorter than decency would have allowed in Haven. Their hair was dark, almost black, and their eyes were a similar color. One of the men stepped forward, wearing a wide smile set on a similarly wide face. He said something to us that I couldn’t understand. I looked to Isaru for help, but he was just as confused.
“Hmm,” Isaru said. “Let’s try this.”
Isaru mimicked the act of eating and rubbed his belly, and the man laughed, saying something to the gathering of villagers behind him. They laughed at his joke, and presently, he gestured for us to follow him.
As we followed the man, I felt a bit overwhelmed with the fifty or so people that had gathered around us. There was no reason to think they meant us harm, but I was very aware of the fact that we were outnumbered. At least some of them must have felt the same way, because some of the Wilders’ eyes quickly scanned our swords. The man leading us took note of our weapons, but didn’t seem as nervous as the others.
He gestured toward one of the houses, beckoning us to enter, but only after he motioned us, curtly, to leave our weapons outside. Once we had left our sheathed blades on the xen outside, we followed the man inside.
The hut was surprisingly spacious. Its floor had been hollowed out to provide more room, and several wooden steps led down to it. The hut was composed of one wide, circular room, and a large rug woven of plants covered almost the entirety of the floor. Four bunk beds had been built into the wall, each with a plump mattress and sheets woven from the same material as the rug. Two women were inside, kneeling across from each other and weaving fabric using a loom. One was older and the other younger, and both were pretty. I immediately guessed the older one was the man’s wife while the younger one was his daughter.
They both looked up, and at their surprise at seeing us, the man said something to them quickly in his language. In short order, both of the women offered us welcoming smiles. The older woman motioned Isaru and me to sit across from them on the floor.
“What do you think they’re saying?” I asked Isaru.
They quieted at my voice, and then spoke with each other quickly. The man nodded, gave us an encouraging smile as if to say, “stay here,” and was out the door again.
“I don’t know,” Isaru said.
We were only sitting there a moment when another man, balding and with a ring of white hair, quickly ducked into the hut. He looked a lot different from anyone else we had seen in the village, so much so that I was surprised I didn’t notice him outside. He had a long, white beard and sharp blue eyes. His eyes widened upon seeing us.
“So, you’ve finally come,” he said, sitting down in front of Isaru and me.
I blinked, a bit shocked to hear him speaking my own language. “What do you mean? You speak Espan?”
“Speak it?” The man laughed, his cheeks rosy. “I grew up in Haven, Child, so of course I speak it. I was wondering when, or if, the Sanctum would send anyone out here, but I was not expecting ones so young. I guess they’re letting anyone become a Seeker now, eh? I predicted it years ago, and how they had laughed at me!”
Isaru and exchanged a glance, confused. “You’re a Seeker, then?”
The man laughed again, before shaking his head. “Once, I might have called myself that. A Cleric, I was, sent to minister to the Western Wild. I had a hard time at that, too! Things became much easier when I decided to settle here and stop cramming our ideas down their throats. When I did that, learning the ways of the Avekai people became so much easier.” He chuckled. “Especially when I became one myself.”
Isaru frowned. “We aren’t Seekers. We were simply looking for something to eat on our way...well, I guess I shouldn’t say where we’re going.”
The man looked at Isaru, incredulous. “Food? You came all the way here for food?” He translated to the man who had led us in here, and he had a good laugh at that, along with the two women. He said something else, making the Cleric laugh as well.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“He said that he knew someday tales of his wife’s cooking would make it to the Settled Folk.” The Cleric paused. “That’s what they call you, you know. Settled Folk.”
The mother put away her weaving, reaching into a nearby pot that seemed to be filled with a globular, purple fruit. She took a sharp, glass-like knife, and began to slice the fruit into pieces. The daughter took on an argumentative tone, but the older woman wasn’t hearing any of it, and gave the daughter a strict command. The younger woman fell into silence. She stood stiffly, and I watched as she went outside the hut.
“They’re preparing you a meal,” the old man said.
“Thank you,” Isaru said. “We merely expressed to Jorla our desire to eat. We had no idea that she was going to drop us here.”
The Cleric chuckled. “No worries. Avekai, Settled Folk, it matters not. We Elekai always take care of our own.” He held out a hand. “My name is Borek. It’s been years since I’ve spoken to a Havenite.”
“How do you know I’m from Haven, Borek?” Isaru asked.
“Your accent,” Borek said. He then looked at me. “Though I can’t place yours. It seems thicker, and you have a faster manner of speaking.”
“I’m from Colonia,” I said. “Though I’m also Elekai.”
At the mention of that city, the Avekai man and his wife looked at me nervously. Apparently, they knew what Colonia was.
“It’s a long story,” I said. “I had to escape from there, and somehow found myself in the S
eekers’ Sanctum.”
Borek nodded. “Of course. It’s rare, but Elekai have been known to come from Colonia. It was more common in the past, but that doesn’t mean it never happens.”
“How long have you been here?” Isaru asked.
“I began studying the Avekai in my twenties. So, near forty years ago.” He chuckled again. “I’ve lived here almost my entire life. Even speaking Espan feels strange. My tongue feels thick and clumsy!”
“You’ve lived here this entire time?” I asked in disbelief.
“Don’t appear so startled. I think you will find, as you get older, that you find happiness in the most unexpected of places. That happened for me when I met Gia...my wife. It happens, sometimes...a Cleric becomes a part of the community he was ordered to serve. Too much a part of it. The Elders didn’t like it, and choosing gave me a hard time for a while — trying to decide which world I belonged to. I had to make a choice. But in the end, I accepted that this was who I really was. Everything became much easier after that.”
We told him our names, and how we were traveling to Colonia on an urgent errand, and left it at that. As someone who had left the Seekers, I didn’t think Borek would be a threat to us, but it paid to be careful. I could tell Borek was curious about what we were doing, but he restrained himself from asking.
“If you’re heading for Colonia, you are too far north.” Borek shuddered. “Though I don’t see why anyone would want to go there.”
“If we didn’t have to, we wouldn’t,” Isaru said. “And the dragon is making our course. We fear that the east is being watched, so we hope to approach from an unexpected direction.”
“Surely, the Elders wouldn’t send two so young on such a dangerous trip...”
Isaru and I didn’t respond to that, but thankfully, the Avekai man poked at Borek, saying something.
“Ah, where are my manners? This man here is Chief Patei, leader of Avekai.”
Isaru and I nodded, each giving our names. Patei asked something of Borek, who listened intently before giving an answer. Patei’s face paled as Borek turned to us.
“He asks why you’ve come to our village, and he knows it’s not just the food. I told him that you have an important mission, commissioned by the Elders, to the Lost City.”
“The Lost City?”
“A colloquialism for Colonia, the city that was lost. Its lore is often remembered better among Wilders than even among the Seekers. I’m surprised at the knowledge remembered among the Avekai’s oral history, not to mention that of other tribes.”
“I wish I could stay long enough to learn it,” Isaru said.
“It’s quite fascinating, though the Scholars, at least during my time as a Seeker, wanted nothing to do with it. As far as they’re concerned, if something wasn’t written down by someone with a fancy name, it didn’t happen. But Wilder Recounters insist that every word of their history is remembered exactly from generation to generation, and Recounters are chosen based on their intelligence, memory, and capacity for storytelling. Outside the Chief, the Recounter, at least in the Western Tribes, is nearly the Chief’s equal in power and prestige. Some would say even more. And a Recounter, unlike the Chief, is a lifelong post.”
“I would like to speak with this Recounter,” Isaru said.
“Only if you have a whole day on hand,” Borek said. “Even then, you wouldn’t hear the truth, not unless you are a member of the tribe.” Borek smiled. “It was part of the reasons I joined, though admittedly, it was mostly because of Gia.”
At that moment, Chief Patei’s daughter reentered with a platter of food she had prepared. There appeared to be some mixed fruit, most of it unrecognizable, and some seared fish fresh from the stream.
We waited a moment before Patei laughed and motioned us to start eating. Isaru and I dug in, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had something that tasted so good. The round, purple fruit, Borek explained, was called globe fruit, while the silver berries with purple spots he called laisha.
Once done, Isaru and I settled back. This wasn’t what we had planned on for a meal, but it surpassed everything we could have imagined. Isaru spoke with Borek while I mostly just listened. They talked about the Avekai themselves, their history, and news from more civilized lands. Borek drank everything in, and Isaru seemed to have as many questions for him. If I didn’t stop him, we’d waste the rest of the afternoon when really we needed to be getting on with our journey. Isaru made our regrets, and everyone stood with us and escorted us outside.
On our way out, Borek watched as we equipped our swords, and I felt especially conscious of Katan on my belt. Would he recognize the famous blade? Indeed, Katan was deceptively plain, though if I bore naked steel, Borek would surely recognize the sword for what it was, even if he hadn’t seen it in forty years. He frowned disapprovingly, but nothing more. It was the best I could have hoped for.
Jorla still stood in the center of the ring of huts, and even after being here a couple of hours, was still the focus of attention. It wasn’t every day that these people saw a dragon, after all.
When Isaru and I were standing by Jorla, Borek stepped closer.
“I don’t know what you’re running from, or why Colonia would have anything to do with it. I don’t know what two initiates are doing with a Radaska and...” His eyes went to my blade, then Isaru’s. “It’s not my business anymore. But if you’ve done something wrong...I don’t think you have, because you seem like the good sort...but if you have, know that the Seekers, in time, will find you. If it’s thievery you’ve done, you can bet they’ll follow the old codes for that one.”
“Our reasons would take too long to explain,” Isaru said, carefully. “And however this looks on the surface...it’s justified. And you might see that in time.”
“I don’t know how or why, and that’s as cryptic as anything I’ve heard...but I believe you, child. I have developed an instinct for these things, such as only an old man can have. I only ask that you be careful. Young people seem to think they’re invincible, often to their peril.”
“We will,” Isaru said. “So far as we can.”
“If you ever to return to the Sanctum,” he said, as we were mounting Jorla, “don’t tell them I’m here. I’d rather them forget me. I am no Seeker. I’m merely a man, now.”
A crowd of villagers had gathered, uncomprehending of the exchange. A woman clung to Borek’s side, her eyes curious and staring. I realized it must have been his wife.
“We will say nothing, Borek,” Isaru said. “We will leave you to your happiness, and would never dream of reminding the Sanctum you’re here.”
Borek’s face relaxed, at last satisfied. “I thank you, child.”
“I also would like to thank Chief Patei and his family for the food and hospitality,” Isaru said, “Both of which were sorely needed.”
As Borek translated, Patei’s eyes lit, as if remembering something. He turned and spoke to his wife, who barked an order at her daughter, who hurried back into the house.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“They wish to bring you gifts,” Borek said. “It is traditional of an Avekai farewell.”
“Borek, we have nothing to give in return,” Isaru said.
“It’s no matter,” Borek said. “A giving of gifts is sacred and to refuse a gift from the Avekai would be a grave insult.”
I wanted to protest further, but I didn’t want to risk offending the Avekai.
First, a sack was passed up, filled with dried fish, fruit, and vegetables...enough provisions, perhaps, for three days. I wasn’t sure if we would need that food, but it was good to know that we had it, all the same. In his hand, sheathed in thickly woven fabric, was a long, curved dagger, the blade of which Borek withdrew to display. The black, glassy material caught the afternoon light, glinting almost darkly.
“A rarity even in the halls of Haven,” Borek said, “This dagger is made of obsidian, shaped from lava flows far to the north and bathed seven days i
n ichor to strengthen it. It won’t break even when clashing with steel, and will keep its edge for centuries. The art has been passed down from generation to generation among the Avekai people. When a boy comes of age, he receives one from his father; but since you have no Avekai father, I shall play the role in giving it to you.”
Borek bowed solemnly, proffering the blade to Isaru. Isaru took it hesitantly, before drawing it and allowing it to catch the sunlight.
“Thank you,” he said. “I’m deeply humbled by this gift.”
“And for you, Shanti,” Borek said, “a young woman also receives a gift from her mother when she comes of age. The women of the Avekai are huntresses, and each woman receives a Silverwood shortbow from her mother when she comes of age. The wood is highly elastic and will never break, and with this bow come a quiver of two dozen arrows, their tips fitted with obsidian, ichor-infused just as Isaru’s blade is.”
Borek’s wife stepped forward with the shortbow, with a string so thin that it seemed as if it would snap the moment it was drawn. All the same, the bow was handed up to me. The craftsmanship was fine, though there were no decorations, save for three intricate runes carved into the bow’s center, the only thing breaking its smooth surface.
“So long as you don’t abuse it, it will last the rest of your days. The string may appear thin as spider’s silk, but make no mistake — it was spun of woven ichor, and it too will last the rest of your days and fire arrows much faster than a conventional bow.”
I didn’t know such wonders were possible, so I was at a loss for words. Gia seemed to understand, giving a gracious smile. I put the bow over my right shoulder, and next, Gia handed up the quiver of arrows.
“Those arrows will pierce the thickest armor, if you draw the bow in full,” Borek said. “Even ichor-infused armor, such as was only made during the time of Hyperborea. Something tells me that where you’re going, you might need it.”