“Well, you all found something to wear, I see.” Valasa’s booming voice greeted them as the large man opened the front door and gestured for the group to precede him out into the gathering twilight. “That’s wonderful, wonderful. All right, then, let’s go to dinner.”
The boardwalks were empty and strangely silent as Valasa led the way toward an enormous pavilion at the center of town. Aibek took a series of deep breaths as they walked, trying to calm his out-of-control nerves. Fortunately, their destination wasn’t far away, so the walk was brief. Once they arrived, Aibek saw why the boardwalks were abandoned—everyone was already there. As they entered the Pavilion, he was struck again by the breathtaking beauty of this place.
The Pavilion was a large open area covered by a broad wooden roof. The sides were open to the outdoors, with half-walls extending down from the pyramidal rooftop. The pale red wood gleamed in the lamplight. Aibek recognized it as shadow wood after Serik’s explanation. The pillars supporting the roof were carved in the same style as the railings, and covered in intricate vines, leaves, and branches. Lanterns hung suspended on strings between posts, casting a warm glow over the whole scene. Hundreds of tables crammed under the enormous pyramidal roof, each surrounded by villagers waiting for their arrival. At the front of the Pavilion, on an elevated dais, was a large table, set for a meal.
Aibek realized with a start that this was their table. His stomach sank into the soles of his slippers; he forced himself to take another deep breath to calm the pounding of his heart. How was he supposed to eat with his stomach doing flips?
Valasa led the way to the front of the Pavilion and gestured for everyone to sit, then seated himself, leaving one empty place on the right end of the table. The chairs lined one side of the table, so the group would eat facing the throng of villagers just below them. Wide-eyed, Aibek smiled and took a seat between Valasa and Serik. Faruz sat to the left of the trusted servant, and Ahren slunk into the seat next to Faruz. On her other side was a fair-haired young man whom Aibek didn’t remember meeting. The young man smiled warmly and leaned forward across the table, surveying the packed Pavilion. Valasa’s wife sat on his right, completing their party.
Out of the corner of his eye, Aibek saw Valasa raise a hand slightly, and activity fluttered from the gloom on the far side of the Pavilion. A veritable army of tiny people, each barely as tall as his boots, and sporting large wings on their backs, came fluttering into the crowd carrying dishes heaped with food. Aibek couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The tiny people wore brightly colored clothing similar to the villagers’, and their hair was every color of the rainbow. Their wings were the same color and texture as a dragonfly’s wings but were shaped more like a butterfly’s.
Awestruck, Aibek turned to Serik and whispered as quietly as he could, “Are those truly fairies? I didn’t know they actually existed.”
Valasa must have overheard the exclamation because he leaned over. “Yes, they’re fairies.” He chuckled. “They serve the religious leader, or Gadonu, of each treetop village. Sometimes, they help out with large gatherings and special occasions. Most of the time, they carry messages between villages so we can stay in touch with our neighbors. In return, we provide them with food, shelter, and protection.”
He gestured to a wooden cup in front of his plate, and a blue-haired fairy rushed over with a pitcher. She filled Ayja’s cup, then Valasa’s, and continued down the table until everyone had a drink. At the same moment, the rest of the fairies began heaping steaming servings of fish, red meat, vegetables, and fruits onto their plates. Aibek sipped cautiously at first, unsure what the beverage could be. It had a smooth, fruity flavor – sweeter than the lemonade he’d enjoyed during the summers in Xona.
“Easy,” Valasa warned with a broad smile as he gulped from the carved cup. “You’ll want to drink that slowly.”
Aibek set the cup on the table and savored the spicy citrus flavor of the fish and vegetables. The food was cooked to perfection and steaming hot, and Aibek’s stomach snarled. Breakfast had been a long time before, and they’d hiked through lunchtime. His anxiety diminished as he struggled to remember his manners. He almost wished he could eat with the abandon of the children he saw at the front table. One child with chocolate brown curls, who looked just past the toddler age, used both hands to stuff the food into her chubby face. For a while, all conversation was at an end as everyone enjoyed the colorful and delicious meal set before them. A dessert course followed, and all the villagers and travelers ate their fills.
When everyone at the table on the dais had finished eating, Valasa stood and addressed the assembled villagers in his deep, resonant voice. “Today is a day of great celebration for Nivaka. Aibek, the only son of Eddrick and Kiri, has returned to us!”
He gestured for Aibek to stand and greet the villagers. Aibek flushed, but rose and waved to the people, determined to project a confidence he did not feel. A murmur went through the crowd, but Aibek couldn’t make out any words.
Once the guest of honor was standing, Valasa continued, “He has been raised these past years by his father’s brother in the city of Xona, and has trained in how to fight and lead. He has brought with him a friend, Faruz, who has also trained in the arts of war, and who will be an invaluable asset to our community.” He waved for Faruz to stand. Faruz beamed a wide smile and stood, waving to the crowd.
Valasa waited for the villagers to quiet again, then said, “In the days ahead, there is a great deal of work to be done as we prepare to face our enemy once again. But tonight, we came together to say ‘Welcome home’ to Aibek, Faruz, and our trusted friend, Serik.”
When Valasa fell silent, the villagers erupted in a deafening cheer. Aibek smiled a little wider at the friendly reception and gave another short wave before he sank back into his seat. Within seconds, a quartet of musicians appeared from somewhere nearby and began playing a rousing tune. A group of villagers stood and cleared tables from the center of the Pavilion. Within moments, there was a significant empty space which filled again with groups of dancing citizens.
As the revelry increased in joyful movement, Valasa smiled and asked Aibek, “I’m sure this has been an overwhelming day for you. What questions do you have?”
Aibek glanced out at the crowd, then answered, “I’d love to hear more about the village.” He looked back at his host and continued, “It’s bigger than I expected. How many people live here? And what’s happened here in the time we’ve been gone? During the journey, Serik told me a bit of Nivaka’s history, but I’m sure there’s much more to tell.”
Valasa smiled, then sobered. His face grew serious as he considered his answer. Finally, he spoke. “I don’t have an exact count anymore, but we have somewhere around eight hundred citizens now.” He glanced down at the table, then looked back at Aibek, “The night you fled to Xona, the council was isolated and overthrown by Helak’s army. All of the council members and their immediate families were killed, including your parents.” His eyes met Aibek’s. “You’re the only one who survived that night. Other than the council, very few were killed. A dozen or so were seriously injured fighting, and a couple more were executed when they refused to surrender,” he paused and looked down at his plate.
“How many were lost?” Aibek asked hesitantly.
“All totaled, we lost twenty-eight citizens.” Valasa shook his head slowly and gazed out at the laughing, dancing throng. “We were all gathered here, in this pavilion, and the invaders announced that they worked for Helak and were here under his strict orders. Tavan, their leader, told us he had been appointed as our new governor under the rule of their overlord.” All traces of his easy smile had vanished, and he twirled his fork in his fingers as he continued. “He was very strict, and life was drastically different from what we had always known. His rule was mostly fair—he didn’t take sides in disputes, and he only punished people who were caught breaking his rules. And there were a lot of rules. He was harsh and merciless with any who opposed him.”
He stopped and stared down at his plate, and Aibek wondered what he was thinking. Could he be reliving painful memories? Aibek’s stomach turned as he considered the types of punishment the dictator could have used against the villagers.
Before he could ask, Valasa looked up and met his eyes. “Finally, about two months ago after a particularly brutal display, a small group of our young men decided they’d had enough. They swept through the village in the middle of the night, killing the governor and all of his guards and enforcers.” He paused for a moment and looked around at the festivities.
Aibek wondered how the young men had handled the experience of taking lives. He’d known trained officers who had struggled with guilt when forced to kill. How much harder would it be without the training and support of the army?
“Two days later, I sent the letter to Xona.” Valasa laughed a little. “I half expected that the messenger would return with the letter still sealed. I didn’t know for sure if you’d made it there, or if you’d gone to another family member somewhere else. I never knew for sure if you were alive, but I didn’t dare attempt to find you sooner. I knew if I sent out messengers to search for you, Tavan would have sent men to follow them, so I just waited and hoped for the day you might come home.”
Aibek hoped the man wouldn’t be disappointed. He didn’t know how to lead a town, and he was certainly no hero. He opened his mouth to speak, but Valasa didn’t notice.
“I cannot describe my joy when I received Serik’s note,” Valasa continued. “Since that day, we’ve been busy preparing to receive you in grand, traditional Nivaka style. It’s the first major celebration we’ve enjoyed since Tavan was overthrown.” He watched the dancing for a moment. “Indeed, it’s the first gathering of this style we’ve had since the invasion. Under the governor’s rule, even our weddings were required to be small affairs that took place during daylight hours, and dancing was forbidden.” His smile faded a bit, and he added, “The villagers are still afraid of what will happen when Helak finds out his governors were overthrown, but I’ve been told you trained to be an army officer. Is that right?”
Aibek nodded. “Yes, I was set to graduate next year.”
“Then you can train our men to fight and defend themselves and our village.” Valasa’s smile was radiant.
“I’ll do my best.” It was the only response Aibek could think of at that moment. It must have been sufficient for Valasa, who turned and murmured something to his wife.
Aibek felt slightly ill from the weight of the other man’s expectations and overwhelmed by the amount of information he had been given. He took another sip of his drink and stared into the nearly empty cup. He felt a little dizzy. His stomach churned as he wondered again if he would be able to lead these people. He let his mind go blank as he watched the villagers dancing and celebrating in the golden light of the Pavilion.
6
New Friends
Within an hour after sunset, the villagers began to disperse to their homes. Before they left, all the families came to the front table to introduce themselves, welcome Aibek and Faruz, and exchange a few words with Serik. Aibek tried to smile graciously as he struggled to remember everyone’s names. After a few families had passed by, he gave up. It was impossible to learn so many people’s names so quickly. He’d just enjoy meeting them all for now, then get to know them better over the days and weeks ahead.
At some point in the procession, a neatly folded note appeared next to Aibek’s cup. A blob of red sealing wax pressed with an unadorned circular seal held it closed on one side. He didn’t open it; there were still people in the receiving line waiting to meet him. He tucked the note into his pants pocket for later. His curiosity about its contents left him distracted through the rest of the introductions.
When the last of the villagers had left the Pavilion, Valasa stood and led their party back to his home.
As they walked, he paused and pointed. “There is the house that traditionally belonged to the mayor. It’s where your parents and grandparents lived.”
“Really?” Aibek said. He’d known his parents had their own home, of course, but he hadn’t realized it belonged to the mayoralty. Honestly, he hadn’t thought much about where he would live.
I just want to get through the first few days. Then we’ll think about longer-term arrangements.
Valasa shook his head. “Yes, but it still needs a lot of work. Tavan and his guards lived there and left it a complete mess; they even built a shrine to Helak!” He hurriedly added, “But don’t worry, you’re all more than welcome to stay with us until it’s ready.”
Aibek breathed a small sigh. “Thank you so much for your hospitality.” He didn’t think he was ready to face the specter of his parents’ home, especially now that he knew Tavan had converted it for his own use.
They finished the short walk in silence. The note pressed against his leg through Aibek’s pocket; he couldn’t think of anything it could possibly say. When they entered Valasa’s home, he thanked his hosts again and bid them goodnight before rushing up the stairs to his room. He almost forgot to bid goodnight to Faruz and Serik, so he uttered a quiet “Sleep well,” in their direction before he closed the bedroom door behind him.
~*~
Aibek strode to the small desk near the window and lit the lamp. The note had felt like a weight in his pocket all evening, and he couldn’t wait any longer to read it. He adjusted the lamp to give enough light for reading, then settled into the chair and unfolded the note.
Not all are pleased the governor is dead. More blood will be shed in the coming days. You would do well to go home to the city. This is not your fight.
The note was unsigned. He scanned it, then reread it, stunned by its message. Aibek worked to remember who he had been speaking with when the missive had appeared. He racked his memory for any useful tidbit, but couldn’t think of anything. The faces had all blurred together in his mind. He would show the note to his friends in the morning and see if they had any insight.
His mind was numb, dazed, and slow as he prepared for bed. So much had happened that day. It felt strange that just that morning he had awakened in the inn. The exhaustion of a poor night’s sleep the night before and the events of the day descended over him like a curtain. He fell into the mountain of pillows on the bed and quickly fell asleep.
~*~
Faruz made his way to Aibek’s room as the sun was rising. Just behind him, Serik entered carrying a tray of fruit, muffins, and some mugs filled with a hot, steaming liquid. The rich aroma made Aibek’s stomach growl.
“Something smells fantastic!” He turned and smiled when Faruz ducked through the door. “Good morning.”
Aibek gazed in concern at Serik as the servant limped across the room. “Are you feeling all right?”
Serik grunted as he set the tray down on the table in the sitting area. “I’m just a little sore from yesterday’s hike. But don’t worry, I’ll be fine with a little rest. I plan to spend today sitting and visiting with my old friends.” He smiled, even as he winced and lowered himself into a soft chair. “I learned this morning that most of your parents’ servants have been working here—in this house—for the past ten years or so.”
Serik grinned, and Aibek didn’t think he’d ever seen the old man smile as much as he had since they arrived yesterday.
They each took a muffin, some fruit, and a mug and relaxed in the chairs surrounding the fireplace. They sat quietly for a few minutes and listened to the morning song of the birds outside the window, the sound now and then punctuated by other animal noises the younger men couldn’t identify. While they ate and listened to the sounds of a forest morning, they conversed in short bursts, alternating with long minutes of quiet reflection.
“This is a great way to start the morning,” Aibek said after a break in the conversation. “We should do this every day.”
Faruz nodded. “Great idea!”
“I used to start the days with your parents this way.,” Seri
k said, smiling. “You’re right; it is a lovely way to spend the morning.”
Aibek grinned and took a swig from his mug. The hot drink was delicious, bolder than tea with a hint of sweetness. Serik told the younger men it was a drink called famanc, made from steeping the seeds of the shadow tree.
During a lull, Aibek blurted out, “Someone gave me an odd note last night.” He pulled out the note and handed it to Serik. “What do you make of it?”
Faruz read the missive over Serik’s shoulder, then let out a low whistle. Serik shook his head.
After a moment, Aibek blurted, “I thought everyone was happy to be free. Who would be unhappy about Tavan’s death?”
After a long moment, Serik answered, “We’ll show the note to Valasa and see what he thinks.” He met Aibek’s eyes. “I wouldn’t mention this to anyone else, at least for now.”
Aibek and Faruz nodded, and the conversation died. Aibek stared out the window at the growing light while he sipped the last of his famanc, then refilled the mug.
Faruz stared at Serik for a long moment. “So… what do you think will happen today?”
“I’m not sure.” The servant set down his mug and looked out the window at the hazy blue light. He sighed. “It doesn’t seem like many of the old customs have survived.”
Aibek grabbed a muffin from the tray. “What would be the custom?” He spoke around a huge bite of cake, then gulped down a swallow of famanc and repeated his question so his friends could understand. “This muffin is unbelievable!” He took another bite, savoring the sweet berry flavor.
“I know,” Faruz groaned. He grabbed the last one from the tray and looked back to Serik. “Well? Do you think we’ll get to meet more of the people?”
“Traditionally, visitors would attend the market, meet the artisans, and tour the village with their hosts, but I didn’t see any booths for the market, and no one mentioned it at dinner. Come to think of it, the market road was in pretty bad shape…”
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