by Jada Fisher
Bishta laughed and threw her hands out wide. “This is magnificent!” she exclaimed. Turning her back on the beast, she walked over to her pack and quickly bandaged her arm. Then she walked back to the demon. It regarded her with suspicion, but it didn’t do anything but stare at her with its unblinking eyes.
The sage walked up to it and patted its immense belly like one would pet a loyal dog. “I need you to kill the ones like me, the other sages. They must be the first to fall.”
It wasn’t something she wanted to do, of course, but it was necessary.
The demon grunted. Suddenly, its body rippled and divided into four smaller clones of itself. They were smaller, but they were still the size of Munla, maybe bigger. They took off in the next second, running faster than anything so large should have been able to.
Bishta found herself alone again, in pain, arm throbbing, weak. But that didn’t keep her from smiling.
Finally, things can begin.
10
Tuni
Tuni thought she had died, but no, things were only just beginning for her.
When she’d gone to greet death, she’d been in darkness for a long time. And it was kind of nice. She felt no pain, no discomfort, as she waited for whatever was next—with the brief panic that perhaps this blackness was it, that you died and that was that.
But then she was pulled back to reality, or some perverse, painful version of it. She flitted between consciousness, in and out of the darkness, only catching glimpses of light and some faces. When she saw the light, she felt pain, just too much agonizing pain all over. Tuni had a vague recollection that she’d broken some bones in a fall and had been poisoned, but she was too out of it to recall correctly.
As she shifted between waking and unconsciousness, she saw the face of a girl no older than herself, with blazing red hair and blue eyes like the sky, a smile that warmed her to the soul. The girl seemed to glow as her lips moved and uttered a chant of some sort, though Tuni couldn’t make out what was being said.
Then she drifted off to the black again, and this time, she stayed there for a long time. Long enough for her to think that perhaps she did die this time, and this would be her home for the rest of eternity, just blackness and loneliness and no feeling whatsoever.
There was a debate on if this was really that terrible of a fate. There were certainly worse hells that one could endure. Before she could really think on that, she was whisked back to the land of the waking.
Tuni awoke with a start, gasping, dappled in sweat, her hair plastered to her forehead. Pain erupted from her ribs and legs, but she was too shocked to even notice. She was alive. I’m alive?
She touched her face to make sure she was real, to make sure this wasn’t a dream. No, no, this was definitely real. Her hands fell away and pushed back the scratchy covers that had her cocooned like a moon moth.
Her beads and jewelry were gone. Bandages wrapped around her waist, clean and white, thick and smelling of something strong that made her want to gag. She shimmied her legs out from beneath the blanket, which caused her some pain, but nothing too bad. Boots gone, more bandages there. She still wore her shorts and shirt, though.
Tuni ran her fingers through her hair. What the hell happened? She desperately needed to wash her hair.
It all came back to her in a rush, the fight with her mom, the terrible thing she’d said, the cobrunnies and the bite and the fall and her nearly dying. Finally, she remembered the girl who’d saved her—the girl in green with red hair like fire. And now she was here, in this strange place, alive and—well, not quite well, but alive.
As she regained her wits, Tuni took in her surroundings. She was in a small hut, made of wood. Plants of all shapes and sizes filled the room, milkweed and roses and thyme and nocturna’s kiss and every other type of herb, and plenty she couldn’t name. There were shelves covered in jars and vials filled with gods-knew-what. More plants hung from the ceiling, as well as beads and bone charms and other odd things.
Where am I?
Tuni’s curiosity got the better of her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and put her feet on the floor, but as soon as she put weight on them, pain shot through her and she crumbled to the ground with a yelp.
“Well, that wasn’t a very smart thing to do,” said a voice.
Tuni flinched, which just made the pain worse. She groaned. Hanging from the single beam rafter that supported the roof of the hut was the girl she’d seen rescue her. She was upside-down and smiling, but she dismounted with the grace of a dancer to come to Tuni’s side.
“Take it easy, my love,” she said. She put a hand on Tuni’s back and helped her onto the bed. Tuni took in a sharp breath. Yes, the pain she’d experienced in the wilds when she’d nearly died was worse, but this wasn’t exactly pleasant either.
She laid back against the scratchy pillow. The girl covered her with the blanket. This gave Tuni an opportunity to really look at her rescuer.
As she’d thought, the girl appeared her age, fair skinned and shoulder-length hair as red as an apple. A slight face with round cheeks and a soft jaw and chin like Tuni. Her eyes were big and blue and blinked repeatedly. Her lips twitched into a smile.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
Tuni licked her lips. “I-I… Fine. Good. T-thank you.”
The girl smiled wide, which made her ears flare out from beneath her hair. “You’re welcome!” She clapped her hands together then climbed back up into the rafters where she started to look through some scrolls that had been stashed up there. Tuni could only blink, her mouth slightly agape. The girl got up there so fast.
Also, as Tuni had remembered from her dying delirium, the girl wore leaves. Large green leaves around her breasts tied behind her neck and back by ropes and strings. It looked expertly stitched. Her stomach exposed, she wore knee-length breeches that were just as green as the leaves, but appeared to be dyed leather. They were laced up the side, exposing a sliver of skin down her thighs.
Tuni had no idea what to make of her.
She finished whatever she was doing in the rafters and dismounted, then crossed over to a table covered in plants and alchemic instruments: empty pots and vials and a burner and strainers and other odds and ends.
“What’s your name?” the girl asked. She grabbed a red-and-white flower that Tuni had never seen and ground it up with a mortar and pestle.
“Uh, T-Tuni, Tuni Teal-Eye.”
She chuckled. “Makes sense, given your eyes. Pretty.”
Tuni blushed. “Thank… Thank you.” She ran a hand through her hair and sat up, which sent a brief jolt of pain through her, but it subsided fast. “Who are you?”
“An interesting question with an interesting answer.” The girl finished grinding the leaves, then gathered the remains and poured them into a steaming metal tea kettle. She took a spoon and mixed the contents, then she poured the tea concoction into a cup and walked over to Tuni’s side.
“Drink,” she ordered, her face stoic as she handed the cup to Tuni.
Tuni hesitated but knew there was no getting out of it. She took the cup and took a sip. Immediately, she spit out the contents.
“Great Spirit, what is that?” It tasted like what she imagined tea brewed with ash and vomit would taste like. It was absolutely the worst thing she’d ever put in her mouth, and with the amount of plants she’d experimented with and eaten, that said a lot.
Instead of answering that question, the girl removed her pointy green hat and gave Tuni a dramatic bow. “I am Gayla the Green, though I go by many names.” She stood upright and put her hat back on. “That concoction is rinquel esyen. Doesn’t have a translatable meaning, but it’s helping fight the remaining cobrunny venom in your veins, the bits I couldn’t get with my magic.”
Magic?
Magic.
Tuni’s eyes were wide. So many questions. But one of them had answered itself, Tuni realized with a gasp. The outfit, the red hair, the strange language. Magic. She hel
d her breath.
“Are you— Are you the Girl O’ Green?”
Gayla smiled. “That is one of my names, yes. I am the Sage of the Earth, at your humble service.”
A sage, a real-life sage! Tuni had heard the legends, the rumors, the myths. She’d heard that one of them, Reshni the Red, ruled in Al-Sevara, but that seemed a little farfetched because what sage would let those city people do what they’ve been doing to the wilds? Tuni had always wanted to believe in the sages, and she’d heard the stories of the mythical Girl O’Green. She was said to wander the wilds, helping the weary and lost, saving spirits and calming the restless ones. Unexplainable events were often attributed to her.
But to think she was actually real? Tuni couldn’t help but smile. This was incredible. It certainly explained how she was still alive.
“I don’t know what to say,” Tuni said, at a loss. How did you react to that? That a mythical figure was real, that magic was real, and that they both saved you from impending death? It was a hard thing to put into proper human speech.
Gayla smiled and laughed. “Your thanks are enough.”
Tuni nodded. “Yes, thank you. Thank you so much! I thought I was done for.”
“You were, if not for me. I was only barely able to stop the venom before it reached your heart. As for the cobrunnies, they would have eaten you alive. You shouldn’t have gotten so close to one. They always travel in packs. As soon as you see a single one, you run.”
The thought of being torn to shreds, alive no less, made Tuni’s stomach drop. She gulped. “Sorry. I’d never seen one before. I didn’t even know they were carnivores.”
“Well, now you know. Finish your drink.”
Tuni looked down at the potion. Her stomach grumbled in protest. “I… I don’t think I wanna.”
The sage lifted her eyebrows and snorted. “Do you want to die?”
“Good point.” Tuni frowned at the drink, but she knew she had no choice. So, she took a breath, pinched her nose, and downed the contents.
It burned going down. She gagged as she forced herself to swallow. Ugh. She feared she’d vomit, but then Gayla appeared at her side with a mug filled with what smelled like regular tea and a wide smile that told her everything would be okay. Tuni took the cup eagerly and chugged the contents. Even though it was scalding, the flavor helped wash away the absolutely terrible aftertaste of the rinquel esyen.
She gasped once she was finished. “Thank you.”
Gayla watched her with interest. She sat at the table opposite the bed and drummed her fingers against it. “So, tell me, what was a young girl such as yourself doing all alone in the wild, miles away from any sort of civilization? You know it’s very dangerous out here.”
Tuni’s cheeks flushed. “I was just exploring. I don’t like to be tied down, so I often leave my village to roam the wilds, talk to spirits, draw, and so on. I know it’s dangerous, but… I just love it. It’s never scared me.”
“That’s good. The wilds can sense your fear. Better to embrace it head on.”
“Yeah.” Tuni watched the sage, who in turn watched her, both memorizing every detail of the other. “I take it the wilds aren’t so scary for you, being a sage and all.”
Gayla chuckled. “Not at all. No, I’m quite at peace here. Most creatures approach me with love, and the more malevolent ones know enough to stay away.”
“Still, it must be lonely out here, all on your own.”
“Oh, dear child, I’m not alone.”
And as if on cue, there came a voice from outside the hut that grew steadily louder as it approached the door.
“Gayla, the woombottens have been milked, though a few of them kicked me. They did not want to cooperate.” The door opened and in walked a woman. “Oh, I see we have a guest.”
Tuni’s jaw slacked ever-so-slightly.
The woman was tall, probably had a good head and a half on both Tuni and the sage. Her skin was a deep brown and glistened with sweat, but even so, it looked smooth and warm. Her brown eyes studied Tuni with curiosity and what she believed to be a hint of disapproval.
She was beautiful, full lips and sculpted cheekbones and all curves. Curves on curves that made Tuni a bit self-conscious. Tuni liked to think she was a pretty thing, but this woman made her think every person she’d ever known was just a lump of dirt. It didn’t help that like Gayla, she only wore a simple hide bra—one that was too small—and a long brown skirt cut along the sides to allow her beautifully muscular thighs freedom of movement. Green swirling lines and dots in a pattern were painted along her arms, legs, and torso.
“You’re staring, girl,” the woman said, the disapproval in her voice obvious.
Tuni’s face burned. “S-so sorry!” She pulled up the blanket to cover her face, but then brought her face back out. “You’re very beautiful.” Then she blushed even harder and ducked back in cover. “Sorry!”
Gayla just laughed. A sweet sound. “Tuni, this is Shandi, my…well, assistant I suppose would be too simple an explanation. She’s my friend and companion and helps me with my sagely duties.”
Shandi scoffed. “Sometimes she makes things very difficult for me. Like when she brings back strange girls to our home.”
“Oh, come now, Shandi, I couldn’t let her die. Have a heart.”
“I have a heart. But not for idiots.”
“Look at her, she’s a wildling, not one of those simpletons from Reshni’s city.”
“I know.”
Tuni peeked her eyes out from the blanket, her cheeks not so warm anymore. “I… I’m sorry for inconveniencing you.”
Gayla pshh-ed. “Don’t listen to my grumpy friend here. It was no trouble. I always help those in need when I can. I wouldn’t be a good sage if I didn’t.
“Your first duty is to the Earth, hence why you’re called the Sage of the Earth.”
“I am charged with bringing balance to nature. Humans are a part of nature, as harmful as they can be. I will not have this argument again with you, Shandi. Not for the thousandth time.”
Tuni just sat back and watched this exchange with fascination. There was definitely a bond between the two that she longed for, a deep friendship. It was odd since Gayla was so young and Shandi was a grown woman, at least in her second decade. Wait…
“How old are you, Madam Sage?” she blurted. She immediately realized how rude that question probably was. As her mother would say, it’s rude to ask a woman her age, Tuni! But this was a girl not a woman.
Shandi promptly scoffed, rolled her eyes, and folded her arms across her chest. “Rude girl.”
Gayla, ever the smiling one, ignored the rudeness. “Oh, I’ve lost track, my dear. As I am now, Gayla, in this incarnation, I am well over a thousand. I am the oldest of the current line of sages.”
One thousand? Tuni’s mouth fell open. So her looking no older than the sixteen years that Tuni was didn’t matter. She was ancient.
“So you’re immortal then?”
“In the sense that I don’t age? Yes. I can be killed though, but I’ll toot my own horn and admit that it is exceedingly difficult.”
Tuni ran a hand through her hair. “Wow.” She smiled and took that information in stride. “So, how old are the other sages? How many other sages are there? Do you all have the same magic? Can you—”
Shandi put a hand up. “Easy there, girl.”
“My name is Tuni.”
“As if that matters to me, girl.”
Tuni stuck out her tongue.
With a smile that hid an annoyed scowl, Gayla slammed her staff onto the floor. No magic or anything, but it made the them both shut their mouths.
“Enough, please,” Gayla answered. “I will answer your questions, Tuni, because I appreciate an infinitely-curious mind, as I was once very much like you.”
Shandi scoffed and sat down.
“There are five sages in all. Me, Reshni the Red, Sage of the Sun and Sky; Brokar the Blue, Sage of the Seas; Bishta the Black, Sage of the Dar
k; and Grear the Gold, Sage of the Light. As they are in their current incarnations, Reshni is a century or two younger than me. So, in a word, ancient.”
“Too bad she doesn’t have your grace or humility,” Shandi said with bared teeth.
“Now, Shandi, let’s not talk ill of the others.”
Tuni frowned. “Do you not like Reshni?”
Shandi scoffed. “Reshni is on the Council of Al-Sevara. She lets them expand into the wilds as they see fit, never stopping them from causing harm or destroying whatever they wish. She’s never cared about nature or spirits, even though keeping that balance is a responsibility of all sages.”
“We do not see eye to eye on many things, Reshni and I,” Gayla said with a sigh. “That being said, she is still an ally, someone the world can depend on against evil.”
Her assistant scoffed again. Tuni was growing tired of those. “We’ll see about that,” she muttered.
“Anyway,” Gayla mused, “Brokar is about five hundred years old, give or take. Bishta a little under a century. The Sage of the Light, Grear, is new. The old sage, Arnem, passed on his powers to Grear, who I understand was his student. He’s only been a sage for a few months, so I haven’t been afforded the pleasure of meeting him, but I do hope to make his acquaintance someday.”
Tuni nodded. “Ah. And how does one pass along sagely powers?”
Shandi slammed her hands on the table. “Okay, enough of this. Gayla, we don’t have time to babysit this wildling. We have important matters to attend to.”
“I suppose you are right,” Gayla agreed with a sigh. “Okay, Tuni, I’ll take you back to your village now.” She grabbed her staff in both hands and was about to start chanting some spell that no doubt would have been interesting to see, but Tuni launched out of bed, ignoring the pain that flared to life throughout her body.
“Wait!” she yelled, hands out. She dropped to a knee, wincing, but forced herself to stay on upright. Gayla and Shandi both raised an eyebrow.