Survivors of Corrica

by Courtney Bowen

  Wintha and Kiki regrouped with the others, only to learn that they were thinking about heading back to the village, instead of continuing on to see the oracle. Wintha insisted she had to keep going, though, and see the seer at least once before she left. Kiki told her brother that the oracle wasn’t too far away from here and she could take Wintha over there to see the soothsayer without any more trouble before they returned to the village.

  Kozu hesitated, not wanting to leave his sister alone, but he decided it’d be okay if they’d hurry up and at least the trip wouldn’t be a total waste. So he left with the others while Wintha and Kiki continued on, stopping at the edge of a rock formation, with brush cleared away around a cave mouth.

  “This is the cave where the seer lives. They say she’s a mouthpiece of the goddess Mila herself.” Kiki said, turning to Wintha. “I’ll wait out here if you want to go in by yourself.”

  “Thanks, Kiki, for bringing me all this way.” Wintha said, entering the cave.

  “You’re welcome. Good luck in there.” Kiki turned away, leaning against the rock wall, keeping watch outside.

  Wintha trooped down a dark, slanting tunnel, tree roots poking through the ceiling, until she entered a large cavern adorned with stalagmites. She stopped as she spotted a figure crouched in a corner, muttering to herself, short and round with hair covering part of her body.

  Wintha hesitated, facing the ancient person, who she realized was a different being than her, a different type of human, a distant ancestor that had fallen by the wayside while humans had developed a different form. Nonetheless, she respected this ancient woman who must’ve lived for thousands of years underneath the earth and acquired her own capabilities in soothsaying.

  “My name’s Wintha, and I--”

  Wintha the Wanderer. The oracle turned to her, staring.

  “Are you speaking to me through my mind?”

  Yes. You wouldn’t understand my voice or language, and I don’t want you or anyone else to use the translation spell on me. This is how we’ll communicate with each other for now.

  “Why don’t you want us to use the translation spell?”

  The translation spell is effective at creating a common language for all, but in the process, we’re losing the ability to speak in our old tongues. I’d like to keep my ancient speech for as long as I can before I’m forced to learn a new tongue.

  “I see. I won’t force you then to speak to me another way.” Wintha sat down across from her, staring at the oracle. “I’m used to talking, though, so I’ll just speak to you my way, and we’ll see what happens.”

  Yes, that’s good enough for me, too.

  “Why do you call me Wintha the Wanderer?”

  You’ve seen it, haven’t you? That’ll be your name someday when you write it in a book of prophecies. The oracle walked across the cave towards her.

  Wintha shivered. “I’ve seen a glimpse of it, but I hadn’t known for sure if it was real or not. I’m going to write a book of prophecies someday?”

  Yes, to share with those who’ll need to read your words someday, long after you’ve gone. Two thousand years or more from now, they’ll still be reading your words.

  “That’s so far into the future. I can’t begin to imagine that.”

  Can’t you, Wintha? It’s why you’ve come to see me, isn’t it?

  “Why have I come to see you then?”

  To increase your abilities, to learn as much as you can from me about seeing the future far beyond your limits, to capture your visions and write them down in a concrete form.

  “Yes, it’s true. I find myself hampered at times when I wish to stretch my wings far beyond what I can see. Will you teach me or show me how to do all of this?” Wintha asked, turning to her.

  I can, but it’ll be difficult for you to bear. Humans have a small capability to comprehend the vastness of time, to extend their sight beyond the present and into the farthest reaches. I can bear a little myself, but even I have my limits, and you might not like what you see. The darkness and despair that lies ahead, the ruins and misfortunes. Even the brightest moments can seem dim at times, taking into account everything else, but there’s hope still.

  “Is the future so bad?” Wintha asked, hesitantly.

  Yes and no. On a grand scale, there are grave incidences, but humanity survives that. Beyond, there’s the wear and tear for you of seeing the shortness of human lifespans, to see generations come and go, to see empires rise and fall. It’s not for the faint of heart, especially when you see your own life in scope. One day, I’ll be chained to this wall, unable to move freely about, forced to speak a guttural language, unable to communicate mind to mind while so-called priests parade spectators in front of me, like I’m a freak. But that’s my own experience, when yours could be different.

  Wintha grimaced. “I see what you mean, to know the ending before the beginning, but I’d still like to know, all the same, what’s going to happen more clearly. Please, oracle, show me. Open my eye.”

  All right, you asked for it.

  The oracle strode over to Wintha, muttering an incantation for a spell, as wind, dust, dirt, pollen, droplets, smoke, shadows, spirits, ashes and more swirled around them inside the cave. Wintha tried to close her eyes, but finally she was forced to open her eyes and see past the cloud, rock, and dirt, up through the soil towards the sky, the vastness of space beyond and the smallness of the earth and land they were on.

  Then she saw dozens, hundreds, thousands if not millions of worlds like this one, swirling together in a cosmological array like pinpoints of light inside a tunnel or portal that she was tumbling through. Then she was forced to see out through all of these pinpoints of light at once, to look at every place in every time, and she saw everything that ever happened or ever will.

  She couldn’t focus on everything or on individual events, especially when she saw all the different versions and deviations, the different influences, outcomes, and contrasts that led to all of these versions. In some, she could influence what’ll happen, make her own choices or predictions that’ll occur, but she was helpless in other ways as well.

  She couldn’t interact with all of these versions or create an outcome for all of them, but she could use her knowledge and choices to create some of them. She could see some things clearly or dimly, depending on what was or wasn’t in her control. She had no choice or forgot about half of what she saw, but she could determine the rest.

  She spotted herself inside the oracle’s cave with the seer waiting for her, so she went back to her own time, place, and body through one of these doorways that was a pinpoint of light. She emerged and shut the doorway behind her, opening her eyes again, but hadn’t her eyes always been open? She didn’t know anymore.

  Wintha gasped and stared at the oracle. “Thank you so much.” She told her.

  You’re quite welcome.

  Wintha turned around and walked, a little unsteady at first, but then she gained more confidence, back across the cavern and then up the tunnel, emerging into—darkness? Wintha glanced around, wondering where the sun went, and someone stirred next to her. Wintha spun about and gasped as Kiki sat on the ground, leaning against the rock wall, glaring at her.

  “Where have you been? I swear, you’ve been down there for hours.” Kiki said.

  “I’m sorry, but the oracle, she showed me the most amazing things.” Wintha shook her head. “You could’ve come down if you were worried or wanted to check on me.”

  “I did, and you weren’t there, not you or the oracle.”

  “Really? That’s puzzling.” Wintha said, frowning. “I swear we didn’t leave, and yet I think we did.”

  “Whatever. In any case, we better head back before my family, your people, and everybody throw a fit. Come on.” Kiki grabbed Wintha’s hand, and led her back through the forest to the village.

  Chapter Twelve:

  Visitors to the Village

  In the heart of the Savorre region, the Vanahatora gathered in t
heir temple, where they worshipped before the altar to their goddess Gorbana, and then they prepared themselves for battle. They’d been through a brutal conflict just days ago, fighting against the Gorbasa and their kitsune warriors, a fierce, formidable foe when they could change from human to sharp-toothed, long-clawed foxes.

  Now they needed even more energy to continue that battle, but they were running out of captives to consume. They needed fresh blood to drink and to drain even more magical powers from their victims, but they had to obtain new resources first before they resorted to attacking the Gorbasa again.

  Luckily, their augur had sensed a great supply growing to the north, a vast amount of power developing in recent weeks. They didn’t know exactly what the sign portended, but perhaps there was a larger than average generation of children being tutored right now in how to master their talents, how to wield and manipulate the elements.

  Yagidehama, one of the fiercest warriors amongst the Vanahatora, otherwise known as the Blood-Drinkers, laughed to herself, imagining the joyful feast ahead of her. She’d claim one of these prisoners for her own, and she’d consume that person’s faculties until she was filled with their force.

  She couldn’t wait to go to the village of Bahealfisaba. She assembled the troop under her command and issued her orders, directing the attack formation to line up with their warlocks in the lead. She joined the warlocks, being a powerful shadow wielder herself, and then they created a portal that’d take them straight to the outskirts of the village.

  She relished the looks on the people’s faces whenever they arrived, the Vanahatora dressed in their leather and fur garb, like lions or lionesses. She’d be there in the front, her face painted with red streaks, advertising her infamy to all those who quivered before her. Let them see what their death looked like with a smile on her face.

  ℜℜℜ

  In P’hula, Fato had been caught sneaking back home by Paracleus and Rhona. After they questioned him, he admitted that he’d been to the mainland and that he’d met and befriended a human boy over there, one of the Corricans that had arrived in the ship.

  Rhona had been outraged and Paracleus astonished that he’d done such a thing, but he tried to convince them to let him keep going back and not to tell the other Fay of what he’d done. In fact, he wanted to introduce Rhona and Paracleus to Corr and the rest of the Corricans, to let them see for themselves that they weren’t a threat and that these humans could be good allies to the Fay.

  “How could you suggest such a thing?” Rhona shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but humans and Fay aren’t supposed to be friends.”

  “Why not? Why do we hold to these outmoded ways of thought when humans and Fay could be different? We could be friends, we could learn from one another. Humans could be different than we imagine them to be, and as Fay, shouldn’t we embrace all creatures no matter what? Isn’t that supposed to be one of our core values?” Fato asked.

  “Admittedly Fato does have a point.” Paracleus remarked. “We’re supposed to be caretakers, tending to all the plants and animals, according to our dictates, and technically humans do count as animals.”

  Rhona frowned, glaring at Paracleus. “I still don’t like it. You barely know this boy Corr. You’ve only met him a couple of times, and you haven’t met any of the other Corricans or humans either. You can’t determine that all humans are like this Corr.”

  “You also can’t judge that all humans are terrible when you haven’t met any!” Fato said. “So how about it? Why don’t you two come with me, and we can decide for ourselves what the humans are like?”

  Paracleus nodded. “I’m up for it. Come on, Rhona.”

  Rhona groaned. “All right, but we need to be careful. We discovered Fato’s hidden portal, and it’d be even more obvious if we all traveled together. We need to leave here one at a time.”

  “Okay, I’ll go first, and you all follow me.” Fato said.

  They agreed and departed P’hula, each via a small portal, heading towards Bahealfisaba. However, they emerged at different places around the village.

  ℜℜℜ

  That morning, Zeldos was working on his cabin with Cassandra helping him, hammering a few nails when he spotted a flash of light in the distance. Curious, he jumped down from the roof while Cassandra looked up from her own project.

  “What’s going on?” She asked.

  “I’m not sure. I’ll go check it out, if you’ll stay here?” He asked.

  She grimaced. “I’m not inclined to let you go alone.”

  “Just for a couple minutes, please?”

  “All right, but if you need any help, holler for me.”

  “I’ll do that.” He said, walking off towards the birch trees in the distance.

  As he crossed into the clearing, he spotted a fox with nine tails, frozen stiff in fear. “Oh, you must be a kitsune. I’ve heard about you.” He said, bending down a short distance away from the animal. “Don’t be frightened, I won’t hurt you.”

  “Are you Corr?” The fox asked nervously, his tails swishing.

  “No, my name’s Zeldos, hello. Corr’s a younger man than me. His family’s farm is a short distance away from here, but I think he’s currently in the village attending some magic lesson.”

  “Ugh, I must’ve gotten out at the wrong place. I knew we should’ve traveled together.” The fox muttered to himself.

  “By the way, why do you want to meet Corr?” Zeldos asked, straightening up. “He’s a kid, a nice one at that, but pretty average, too. A kitsune like yourself should probably meet other people, like his elders.”

  “All right, then, what about you, Zeldos?” The fox said, facing the man. “What’re you like?”

  “Me? I don’t know. I’m sort of…ordinary. Admittedly, my life’s been a strange one, too, and I’ve had my share of hardships.”

  “Tell me your story, Zeldos. I think I’d like to hear it.”

  So Zeldos sat down, feeling a little odd talking to a kitsune like this, and started telling his story to the fox, who listened avidly to him. After a while, Cassandra called for Zeldos, and the fox nearly darted away, but Zeldos told him to wait for a moment.

  “I’m telling stories to one of the kids!” Zeldos yelled at Cassandra. Sometimes the villagers’ children or one of Geneva’s relatives might wander over to the clearing, having heard that Zeldos was a bard or storyteller, and ask if he could tell them a tale.

  “Okay, but hurry up and come back soon!” Cassandra shouted at him. “This house isn’t going to build itself, you know!”

  “I’ll do that.” Zeldos told her. He turned back to the fox, and quickly finished up the rest of the tale.

  “Wow, that’s fascinating. I never knew such things were possible.” The fox said, staring at Zeldos.

  “Well, I never knew that talking, shapeshifting foxes existed until I came here, yet here we are.” Zeldos said.

  “My name’s Paracleus, by the way. I’m friends with Fato.”

  “The talking bird who visited Corr?” Zeldos’s eyes widened. “He told us about Bahealfisaba, I remember that.”

  “Anyway, Fato said I should head this way and meet some people, so I decided to do that. You’re building your house over here, near those birch trees?” Paracleus said.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I hate birch trees.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with them, except…oh.” Zeldos stared down at Paracleus. “Are you—well, never mind that. I’m sure it’ll be okay here, for me and my people at least.”

  “Just don’t cut down those trees, okay?”

  “I won’t cut them down, I promise you that.” Zeldos cleared his throat. “One question, though, since you’re…well, I’m a little curious.”

  “Go on, ask away.”

  “Why do you come to this side of the world, so close to the humans? Why don’t you stay where it’s safe, where nothing would harm you?”

  “That’s a good question.” Paracleus s
ighed, contemplating that. “We want to explore. We don’t want to be restricted just to our island and our forest. We want to spread magic wherever we can, discover new sources of magic, and help any creatures or plants we come across. Sometimes there are a few of us who break from tradition and help humans, though we could be banished from our home if we get too close to humans. I never understood why someone would risk exile just to help out humans, but I suppose your kind’s not all bad, though some have done terrible things to others.”

  “That’s certainly true. Not all of us are good or bad, but a mix in between.” Zeldos said.

  “What I don’t understand about humans is why do you all fight all the time?” Paracleus asked him.

  “We don’t fight all of the time, though we do get involved in conflict.” Zeldos frowned. “Sometimes we’re imperiled, sometimes we attack first, sometimes we help each other out and sometimes we’re just looking out for ourselves. It can be debilitating at times, exhilarating too, yet there’s always an element of danger to it. No one’s ever safe from it when everyone can be affected by it, yet we still get involved in it. Exhausting to think about, sometimes.”

  “I can imagine that.” Paracleus nodded. “I better go before--”

  They heard a scream in the distance, and looked up in shock. “What was that?” Zeldos asked, worried.

  “Please don’t be war.” Paracleus muttered.

  ℜℜℜ

  Meanwhile, back at the village, Lapida had been tending to her forge, creating a new sword as several other newly minted blacksmiths were also trying their hands at crafting iron into steel. The results weren’t always the best quality, but they were definitely improving and becoming proficient at the task. Lapida smiled, satisfied with their work, and looking forward to her break this afternoon when she’d head home.

  Hasbas was struggling on, she knew, working on their house after he’d lost Corr’s aid on most mornings when Corr was starting to come into the village to take some magic lessons. All of a sudden, without warning, Corr had gone up to Rowena and asked to be tested for such abilities, and lo and behold, he had some aptitude or potential.