The women and children were covered from head to toe in multicolored robes, contrasting starkly with their dark skin. Each village was bursting with color, from the paint on their dwelling to the clothes on their back, the most daunting of which was the village that Orrin had dubbed violet one.
Throughout their journey between villages, Valor watched Iliana, noting that her coldness seemed to melt away in the presence of others. He watched her talk with the women in the markets, seemingly about how they were able to pull such vibrant colors from the few flowers that bloomed around the oases of the Gorabund.
When Iliana wasn’t around, Valor felt lost. She helped them understand a few basic words like hello and good day, but they weren’t enough to bargain or barter with.
Armun seemed to have made it a point to be distracted by every person or thing before they were able to leave a village. Their presence prompted village elders and leaders alike to greet them, and shower them with gifts. Everything to Valor was a whirlwind of foreign languages, weed filled pipes, and delicate meats. Armun talked his way through everything.
The thing that disturbed Valor most was the throng of children that followed him everywhere he went. At one point, Valor caught Iliana laughing as once child on a particular day yanked on his long hair. “What’s so funny?” he asked her.
“You,” Iliana said with a grin. “They are calling you wolf man. You look like a wild animal.”
Idiots, Valor thought, looking at the children. Too trusting. The nickname wolf man wasn’t to his liking either. It reminded him instantly of Lobosa.
Many of the a’tashi were particularly adept at well building, as evident by the strange mechanisms attached the wells themselves.
Iliana pointed to one. “They repurpose old harmian things. There’s a lot of it in the Gorabund.”
Valor snorted. “Not news to me. Ferals have been stealing their leftovers for decades.”
Together, they rode between a’tashi villages in low built wagons, filled with gaggles of refugees. If any feral followed them, Valor thought, then their scent would be masked well amongst the others in the wagons.
“The ferals and a’tashi hate each other, Armun. We won’t be seeing them.”
Armun shrugged. “I’ve always found the a’tashi to be trustworthy… but as always, money is a decent substitute.”
Valor wanted to disagree, but was in no mood to argue.
While crumpled between the big bodies of the old mage and his brother, he examined the dirty faces of the refugees. Not one of them looked the same. One was terrified, and the other excited. There were mothers with children, young lovers, and dwarven monks. He wondered if it was possible to live on the refugee wagons, never stopping, always moving.
Living the way we should be, Valor thought, staring at his brother.
Valor noted, however, that Armun never seemed to sleep. He was awake. Always awake, and always watching. Valor found himself looking at Armun’s stomach, wondering if the magical bomb in his stomach was still there, swirling around, waiting for Valor to make the wrong move.
Valor had learned at a young age, like Orrin to not make many promises. But this one thing he had held onto.
In the few moments they had alone, Armun offered to show them meditative training.
“It all starts in your mind, you see. Magic is controlled by your aura, which is trapped beneath your conscious mind, deep within the subconscious. It’s not uncommon for someone’s auras to unlock during dreams, or when they sleep. What happens after that is rarely the same for any one person.”
Valor’s mind went to his shared dreams with Orrin, but said nothing.
Armun turned to address Orrin. “Neither of you can see them, but I can. Once you active your own, you can see it in others.”
[ How do I activate my aura? ] Orrin signed to Armun, his fingers hesitantly moving.
Valor looked at his brother, fear and trepidation building in his chest. Orrin looked to him for a translation, but Valor kept his mouth shut, his heart racing. “No, Orrin.” he said.
Armun raised a hand between them. “I know what he was asking. Don’t trouble yourself, Valor. You don’t want to learn, fine. Can’t force a man to help himself.” He turned back towards Orrin. “At the temple, we teach children as young as six years to project their minds into their auras. It takes a lot of practice,
Valor spoke up, more out of concern for his brother and time, and effort. Mostly it’s the work of different forms of meditational exercises.”
Orrin rubbed through his short hair. [ We practiced meditation with Jerryl. Maybe we can do it? ]
Valor looked between Armun and his brother. “Keep me out of this.”
“Just tell me what he said and I’ll leave you alone.”
Valor rolled his eyes. “Meditation. We practiced meditation with Jerryl.”
Armun put two fingers under his chin. Valor worried what was going on in his mind, thinking hard. “Battle meditation?” he asked.
Valor shook his head. “I don’t know. He never really said from where or what.”
“Well…” Armun said. “I practice the meditation of the Urenai. Astral meditation. It has all sorts of benefits. Focuses your mind, trains your aura, aligns your body…”
“Oh. Excellent.” Valor said with more than a hint of sarcasm. Orrin shot him a look. “Will Orrin be able to walk through fire storms the same way you did? Or will it just cause us problems?”
Armun smirked. “Perhaps. If his aura is attuned to the element of fire than it’s possible. A handful of people have auras that stretch to every direction. It’s not difficult to teach… but quite the opposite to master.” He patted Orrin, I’ll work with you.”
Armun’s eyes drifted to Valor. “You know…” He began.
“No,” Valor said.
Armun leaned in towards him. “Listen. If you awaken your aura, it doesn’t mean you can use magic. Not at all. It just means you can see the auras of others, and awaken it. It can help you fight better, help you spot mages who might do you harm… keep you safe, keep your brother safe… you do want to keep him safe, don’t you?”
Valor decided to stop counting the days as they travelled by carriage and caravann, along terrible bumpy roads and hundred year old signposts. They were nearing the end of the Gorabund. Besides his companions, strangers and boxes of fragrant vegetables became his new acquaintances. Valor dared not smell himself until he mustered the courage.
Even for me that’s bad, he thought.
Orrin and Valor began their astral meditation under Armun. Valor had given in to Armun’s comments, despite knowing the old mage had goaded him into it. Goading or not, he figured, the man was right.
The meditation consisted of several different breath exercises, combining vigorous arm movements and sharp breathing, some standing, some sitting. Armun taught them to draw the air into the lungs between the navel and groin, which Valor found difficult to do. Whenever free moments came, they practiced and exercised diligently. He admitted to himself that the exercises loosened up his limbs and cleared his mind a bit, but only to himself.
Valor couldn’t help but catch himself being drawn to Orrin and Armun’s conversations about magic, however, and constantly pushed himself away. If he needed to learn magic, he would learn what he needed, if and when the time came.
The last of the a’tashi villages, on the edge of the Gorabund, contained a people garbed in dark, mustard brown yellows and forest greens. It was also the largest, and even contained some two story dwellings. There were a few mud homes, but most were reserved for the traders. They all took this as a sign that the plains were close.
Valor watched the few noblemen and women about with a keen eye, and prayed they had never seen his face. The Scarlett Ring had drawn many visitors over the years, and he wanted to avoid as much trouble as possible until they got to Carnim Hale.
[ I don’t like these a’tashi, but they are crafty. ] Valor signed to Orrin.
The tribes did
have one similarity, in that they spoke a strange dialect that sounded like world tongue, but carried a weird tone and quickness that neither Orrin nor Valor had heard.
Attempting to buy supplies and food was near impossible, and Valor did not find it as amusing when the craftiness was turned upon him.
“Whaddawannseeseehaeyhuhuhheyah? Whaddawanna? Hagh? Haha!”
Neither Valor nor Orrin could understand a word, but agreed that it was probably a manner of speaking the villagers had crafted to make themselves seem exotic and strange, used to confuse and frighten people into giving them too much money for low quality goods. The dialect worked, made worse by the fact that Valor didn’t understand what the proper change received should be.
Valor haggled for everything, since Orrin was mute, even for a loaf of bread. Valor knew the baker was confusing him on purpose, but he threw his money on the table, took the bread, and was done with it.
He handed half to Orrin, shaking his head, signing in between bites. [ You’d think us being human, they would give us a discount. I’d understand if we weren’t. Even Kashriians. Bastards shouldn’t cheat us. ]
Orrin signed back. [ These people are just surviving, Valor. Don’t judge them. They live humbly and act humbly. You are looking for something that isn’t there. ]
Valor rolled his eyes. [ They chose to live out here. They could move further north and grow their own crops and raise their own cattle. Then they wouldn’t have to live this way, cheating starving travelers and scamming rich people. ] He thought for a moment. [ That last part I’m okay with. ]
Orrin nudged his brother, his way of staying engaged and interjecting in an argument without words. [ We aren’t starving either. Don’t exaggerate. And you don’t know why they are here. Who they descended from. We know too little of this world to pass judgement on anyone. Ani Gillidron once said, “Judgement trails a weak mind like a skinny man’s shadow.” ]
Valor stopped walking, executing a long sigh. “Orrin, please. All this Grand Script nonsense, it has to stop. We’re strangers to everyone out here, but every time I put one of these gold pieces into someone’s hands, they smile at me, with the same smile anyone who’s ever cheated me has made.” Valor held up a coin pulled from his pocket. “This here, this is what people understand. In one form or another. And that’s it.”
Valor stepped up to an a’tashi woman who spoke more gibberish. She filled two leather skins with a mixed fruit juice, took Valor’s money, and sent them on their way.
Valor took a large swig of the juice. There was no denying it was delicious, and better than anything he’d had while crossing the Gorabund.
Orrin signed to his brother. [ Valor. ]
[ Yes? ]
Orrin stopped and took another swig. [ Never mind. ]
Orrin stepped moved three quick steps ahead of his brother, tangling himself in a laundry line. An old a’tashi woman yelled at them from her rocking chair, pointing out her open window.
Valor calmed her with a wave. “She’s crazy,” he said, turning to his brother, who had already walked halfway back to the bazaar.
Chapter 42
Armun had used his guile and wit to procure them the finest rooms in the village. The elders had gotten him drunk, and he in turn paid for drinks and food. One elder happened to be the proprietor of some local lodging.
The rooms themselves were covered in pillows with long tassels, sheets woven of soft cotton, and a myriad of other fine things, colors just as vibrant in candlelight as they were in the sun.
Valor found the bathing room, and jumped into a clawed tub. A’tashi women filled it with hot water, scrubbed him down, and dried him. The servants stayed silent, and he found them kind, but being served so well made him uncomfortable, like he was forcing them to do something against their will.
With skin smelling like rose water, he returned to his room, just across from Armun and Iliana’s. He opened the door slowly. He could see that Orrin had already fallen asleep, face down between two fluffy pillows.
Valor himself fell onto his bed, realizing that even a minor pampering could make him feel too relaxed. While telling himself to stay sharp and ever present, he quickly fell asleep.
As soon as Valor’s eyes shut to go to sleep, he awoke on that familiar grassy precipice.
He turned. Orrin was there again. [ Orrin? ]
[ Don’t tell me we are doing this again. ] Orrin signed back.
Valor nodded. [ I had almost forgotten about this… so much has happened. It appears we are in this dream again. Why, though? This has never happened before, has it? ]
Orrin shook his head. [ If it did, I don’t remember. ]
Valor looked around. There were no floating bodies, no oceans of fire, and no smoke plumes. Instead, the silver city stood untouched, as if protected by the dwindling sun and white washed clouds.
[ I don’t understand this. ] Valor signed.
Orrin stepped closer to the precipice. [ Neither do I. But… here we are. At least there are no bodies in the river. Not yet. Do you think we could save them? ]
Valor had to stifle a harsh laugh. “We’re in a dream, Orrin. I doubt it.”
Orrin shook his head. [ I know. But those people are in pain. I could at least try. Even if it’s one. If I’m doomed to have this dream over and over with you, it would be worth it to try. ]
Valor sighed. [ Orrin, I know this will make you mad. But I have to keep saying it. Whether it’s in this dream or it’s real, you’re going to find that the world is not so different. You can’t save everyone. ]
Orrin turned to his brother.
Suddenly the surroundings changed. They were back by the laundry line, outside of the hut on the outskirts of the a’tashi village.
Orrin didn’t seem to notice. Valor could tell he was angry.
[ Just because you’re blind doesn’t mean I have to be. ] Orrin signed. [ It’s always worth it to try. That’s what Jerryl taught me. He taught you the same thing. ]
Valor turned halfway once, twice, three times away, then faced his brother, laughing in short bursts, his emotions reaching a boiling point. “You’re… Orrin. I am not blind. Look at me. What do you think you’re going to find out here? Do you think everyone is so honest? So wonderful?”
Orrin shook his head. Valor knew his barrage of words was getting to him. [ I told you to sign with me. Firstly. Secondly, no. I know the world is complicated. But the Scarlett Ring is not the world. The Arnaks are not Harmenor. I keep trying to tell you this. ]
Valor snatched back his hair with tight fingers. “Gods, Orrin! Where do you think those nobles in the Scarlett Ring came from!? The nobles that watched you kill innocent men, or promised us freedom at the end of more shackles!?” Valor kicked a small mound of sand. It exploded against his foot, freezing in midair. Suddenly, the sand turned to water, collapsing in droplets on the ground.
[ What about the a’tashi in these villages? ] Orrin signed. [ They don’t desire killing, or anything of the sort! ] His hands waved emphatically through the air.
Valor turned sterner. “Not now. But if they knew where you were from? If they knew the things you’d done? We’ve killed a’tashi in the past, Orrin, in raids. What if they knew the truth about who we are?” How do you think they’d treat us?”
Orrin growled, one of few noises he could make. [ That was not our fault! What were we supposed to do, tell Lobosa no? ]
Valor made a cutting motion across his shoulders rapidly. “It doesn’t matter, Orrin! Do you think that matters to them?”
Valor whirled around, looking away for a moment, recuperating for his next assault. “Do whatever you want Orrin. Think whatever you want. I’m only trying to protect you from more pain. I don’t care. It’s inevitable with you. You are so caught up by the outside world already, and Armun, who lied to us! You’re lost. How can we - ”
Suddenly, Orrin shoved his brother hard. Valor did not see it coming, and his butt hit the ground firmly, the back of his head hitting a thick laundry post
. “Ah… shit… Orrin, what - “
Valor looked at his brother’s eyes, despondent and grim.
[ I don’t know what world you are seeing. It must be so different from mine. ]
[ Orrin, I’m sorry. ] Valor signed several times, but his brother just stared at him, looking as lost as a farmhand suddenly plopped in the ocean.
The scenery changed again, turning to soft greenery, and they were back in the previous dream, staring across the grassy precipice to the mysterious silver city.
It was already burning. The fire, the bodies, and the black sky. It was all as it had been before.
Valor ignored the terror of their dreamscape. For once, he was speechless with Orrin when he most needed not to be. They had argued before, but never that way.
Orrin signed to him after a long silence, turning to his brother. [ Why have we never talked about these things until now? ]
[ What do you mean? We’ve always talked. We’ve been all each other has except for Jerryl. We always talk. You’re my brother. ]
Orrin shook his head yes, but his signing contradicted the move.
[ I guess, ] he responded. Orrin turned back to the silver city.
Together, they watched the black and white burst of energy eclipse all vision, then slowly but surely swallow them whole.
Valor awoke in a sweat, overwhelmed by what he saw. He sat up, straight as a board.
Orrin was covered in a glowing field of energy, like fire that could not burn, a thin mirage of power.
Suddenly, Valor’s vision turned dark red. Valor looked at his hands and could feel his blood surging through him. “What the hell!?” he yelled. “Armun! ARMUN!”
Faster than he thought possible, Armun burst in the door. His face transitioned swiftly from nervous wreck to calm and tired. “Oh,” he said.
“Oh? Just oh!?” Valor yelled.
Armun scratched his beard and yawned. “It would seem you’ve both awoken your auras… oh, my. So tired. Harma’s grace - so tired. We’ll deal with it in the morning.”
Valor tossed off his bedsheets, staring at Armun. “How do I turn it off!?”
Memorias: Deep in the Arnaks Page 39