by Parnham, N
“I am trying to find the gates…”.
“Gates you say Avis, what gates would perhaps you be looking for in such a place as this?”.
“The gates that hold the amulets, the seven gates of Malkarertz, I read of them in the Librarium back home, please I am truly sorry”.
“Normona, come here and take her to my place of rest. I shall speak with her soon, let the celebrations cease until I have otherwise spoke and return immediately to your daily tasks”.
Normona came before me, her hand reached out as a kind gesture; my hand in hers, she pulled me up from the ground, with a firm, but not overly harsh tug. She wore jewellery made solely of dried fruit, both around her neck and wrists; old looking sandals were tied upon her feet with rigid laces, I could quite clearly see chafe marks from where the leather had slowly begun to rub.
Coming to the place of rest, I was seated upon soft quilts in the right-hand corner. The quilts themselves were decorated with small sequins and placed atop of luxuriously soft cushions; incense burned from upon an altar central to the dwelling, the walls made from clay, bonded with the shoots of a willow, that curved effortlessly inwards.
A bird I had never seen before sat perched from a cage, it was like an eagle in size, with a hunters look, but it somehow lit the room, glowing a golden yellow, creating shadows with the occasional flap of the wings.
“It is a rokson bird”. Normona said, after watching me gaze lovingly at it.
“They are very rare and very precious to our people; your people many years ago used to hunt them like dogs and kill them for their meat, pushing them deeper into the forest; we took a few and protected them from harm and through care they multiplied, but they do not venture far from Yilesul anymore”.
The large man entered the room and asked Normona kindly to let us talk and to prepare breakfast before dawn breaks.
“Hello Avis, please excuse my brisk tone on your arrival; I love the land and the people so much, I risk not anyone taking it away. I want to invite you to stay with us, even if just for a little while, my people and I would be humbled to have a lovely guest such as yourself stay; for it is not very often a new face passes us by you see”.
A broad smile passed from cheek to cheek, his perfectly white teeth carved to be like that of a wild animal, I could see the love in his eyes seeping through from his heart. He seemed a genuine man, only wanting to protect what he held precious to him. I could do with a good place to gather my thoughts, I suppose.
“I would be delighted to spend some… time here”. I said in a cautious tone that was only beginning to warm to him after the events that unfolded just moments before.
“Excellent Avis, how rude of me not to mention this, my name is ‘Jonule’ I am the leader of the people of Yilesul”. His voice rose in excitement at the prospect of a new member of the village.
“That is perfectly fine, I am sure you have been preoccupied with all the celebrations I observed taking place”.
“Yes that I have, we are marrying two of our dearest people, ‘Sandriah’ and ‘Lakon’; they have beautiful souls, together I am sure of it, they shall be truly happy. Would you require sleep Avis? As unlike your people we do not tire, we live our lives aware at all moments”.
“Thank you, but I have already slept an ample amount; I do not think I could fall asleep after all the excitement you have provided me with”.
Jonule laughed merrily, almost to the point of hysterics, his face showing a hint of colour through his pale skin.
“My dear, we have much to show you, much fun is to be had here, I will soon continue the celebrations, please, join me”.
I was positioned quite comfortably on the cushions, so it took some forceful will to move myself; upon arising, I was guided outside, Jonule had gathered a small selection of people to speak with me.
“Everyone, as you know this is Avis; she shall be staying with us for a short while at least, please make her feel welcome, tell her tales, teach her skills”.
In front of me, there were four people, Jonule announced their names to me in a pleasantly welcome manner.
“This is ‘Zinmbe’ she is my people’s holder of mysteries; creator of magick, healer of the sick, wise and wonderful”.
Zinmbe looked unusual compared to the other members of the village, an outsider perhaps, brought in from another place; her ears were stretched almost to the point that they may rupture, you could in fact easily pass a hand through them, the very thought of which sent colossal shivers shooting unforgivingly down my spine; which of course I hid kindly. Her face and arms were decorated in yellow and red paints and protectively she held onto a handful of local herbs and spices.
“Next this is ‘Werdo’ he holds the post of blacksmith, creating the finest swords and armour of the northern lands; I beg you to find a man who can create a better long sword, but I am sure you will not find them for a million footsteps”.
He smoked tobacco through a pipe, the smoke an unusual yellow colouration, unlike most tobacco the smell was quite satisfactory to the senses, a hint of vanilla was overpowered by the blissful scent of mango; in disregard to the common clothing, he wore chainmail, possibly a way of advertising his work more effectively to the village.
“Here we have Operk, if you find yourself needing clothing of any kind, he is the man to see, if it were possible I would have him clothe the men of many worlds to show the great work he does”.
Werdo interrupted with an eager tone:
“What use is clothing that tears away at the might of swords and wears down at the graze of rocks?”.
“But that may be so Werdo, but what good is armour, when the body shivers and aches from the cold kiss it gives?”. Jonule said with a competitive glint in his eye.
“You have me there Jonule. I respectfully retract my statement”.
Operk was smaller than the others, yet still tall, he had a long beard, the ends of which were like inverted horns; his eyes pierced through me as if searching for a fault in my being; he wore a worn leather sack, fastened with the claws of some unholy creature. His skin was the most noticeable feature, he had the same pale complexion as the others, but it was as though he had scales, I presume they covered his entire body, but at the least they surrounded his facial features.
“And finally this is ‘Maul’ our highest ranked warrior”.
His name did justice unto his appearance; he was beaten, bruised and ripped in matchless comparison, a man who I would not like to share a feud with.
After the brief introduction I followed Jonule and the others towards an enclosed meeting area; entering, we walked under a stone arch, the sides of the expanse had large steps, yet they were intended for sitting upon; a large controlled fire warmed the area, but also did Normona as she prepared delicious smelling food for everyone. I could not count the number of spices and herbs she had laid out before her, but the aroma was drawing me in every time I inhaled. Seating ourselves close to where the food was to be prepared, Jonule gave me and the others a small mint.
“Everyone, let us thank the grace of life for the joys we have been given upon us; Avis, I ask that you may be the first to start the proceedings, gently place the mint upon your tongue, chew only a slight amount; do not want you flying away now do we ”. Jonule said in a witty tone.
My eyebrow raised in bewilderment, but I did not want to offend Jonule, so doing as he asked, I placed the mint affront of my tongue and chewed all but the slightest. Good heavens, I proclaimed in an abrupt manner, what is happening? With every bite upon the mint I rose like a bird, taking the first bursts of flight. I continued to chew, thrilled by the experience. Every person around me did the same and before I could turn to see, they were charmingly dancing among the air, moving to the beat as nature intended; unfolding as though a flower rising up to receive life. My body among the others began to follow a route, turning in a circular motion, Sandriah and Lakon centred within the group, rising a couple of feet above the rest; I started to become increasin
gly unsettled as we span ever faster, a blue haze covering each of us as we circled, flumes of which were sucked towards the couple, illuminating them in the most vibrant and distinct ways.
“A thousand spins and it is done”. Jonule proclaimed.
With that, we slowed and gently touched back down. I collapsed as my feet touched the ground, the spinning motion making me tremendously dizzy, stupid as it may be, I kept my eyes open throughout, not thinking about the possible effects it may have on my stability.
Glancing over to Sandriah and Lakon, their eyes were lit with furious colours, holding each other tightly, they walked over to Jonule and bowed their heads, then walked back through the archway and to the village.
“Come, it is now time to eat”. Said Jonule.
Lining up we took it in turns to pass by Normona. Today there was a selection of delightful treats for us to choose from; stewed and fried rabbit meat in a rosemary infused sauce; spit-roasted reaping pig, or hanging trout in a lemon drip sauce. I opted for the rabbit meat; alongside the main selection of the meal, you had the choice of five different types of bread, as well as a choice of savoury delicacies to entice the well rounded. Scooping a heaped pile of hognobbles (Small fried potatoes, wrapped in bacon) upon my plate I sat myself next to Operk, his skin still intriguing me.
“It is a genetic gift from my father”. Said Operk.
“Apologies, I did not mean to offend, it merely caught a piece of my mind; I suppose there is no possible cure for it?”.
“No… my dear and if I were to find one, I would vanquish it from all the lands that lay before me, from the hilltops of the south, to the sunken valleys of the east, I would not rest until all trace of it had ceased; I value this as a virtue, handed down to me, connecting me to many eras forgotten”.
“It is nice that you value your past and continue to stand firm for the future”.
“Enough of this mindless talk; many years, have I heard many words, from many people, about my skin. Now Avis, Jonule asked us to look after you as our own and to his word I shall do the actions; I see that your clothes have become worn from your pleasant… journey here, may I be as obliged, as I am, to offer you some of my finest cottons?”.
Taking a mouthful of the hognobbles, I replied in a mumbled tone.
“Yes please, if you could, that would be somewhat helpful”.
“Very well, after breakfast though, a needle head will not touch my hands until my hunger has been patched”.
I cut gently into the rabbit, the meat so tender and light, as if it were cake that had risen; the hognobbles were perfect with the rabbit, giving the salty taste of the bacon, with the crisp yet fluffy potato underneath. Dipping the hognobbles in the juice of the rabbit, I quickly managed to go through most of what was placed on my plate, leaving only the warm olive and onion bread for a small after snack.
Rising up I walked back over to the preparation area, eating the bread as I did so, then pouring myself a small drink of grapevine water to wash down this most welcome meal.
“Desserts and sweets everyone”. Normona said in a loud voice, which easily led to the heads of many hungry folk turning as hurried as it was spoke of. The queue reformed quickly, only this time it was more unorganised; people were pushing and forcing their way to the front, in order to get their sugary delights. I opted not to have any, although they looked rather tantalising; do not want to be putting on any weight now.
After everyone had finished epically quenching their appetites, I followed Operk out of the meeting place, casually striding back to the main centre of the village.
He had a petite stall attached to the front of his home, presenting a varied selection of his latest garments; it was a modest store, but it was laid out elegantly; the clothes were folded impeccably, not a crease, or a stray thread in sight. The assortment of both male and female clothing was equal in proportions, so as not to offend. Occasionally he would spray perfumes in and around his clothes, trying to lure susceptible individuals in, as well as keeping the clothing smelling fresh. Judging by the appearance of the villagers, they were not too keen on separating themselves from the sheeple; perhaps this was his challenge, a personal goal to bring a new brightly decorated era to the clothing of Yilesul.
By this time it was mid-day, the sun was idly waiting for the evening to set in, the rustling of the leaves was somehow soothing, listening as the birds tittered to each other in a rhythmic manner. Operk had just entered into his home to gather his supplies; no grace was permitted through this, it was as though he was plundering the treasure of a discarded fortress; it must have been an unsightly mess in his home, never before had I heard so much banging and clanking.
After a short period Operk emerged; in his grip was a selection of materials, a small sewing carriage box made of finely cut cherry-wood, as well as a creased leather pouch, overflowing with sequins.
“Now Avis, I have many ideas, but little time, so let us not be selective; tell me, what colours do you like?”. Operk said in an exhausted tone.
Looking at the materials, lilac, pink, mustard yellow, none of these would suit my tastes, especially mustard, good lord no…; in the end I settled for an opal red. The material was soft, laid atop of a thick woven fabric for strength and warmth; deciding not to have any sequins, I handed back the material of choice to Operk.
Opening his sewing box, he pulled out a folded measuring tool.
“Open your legs and reach out your arms”.
He began to measure me, noting down the sizes on a piece of parchment to his right.
“Now, come back to me in a few hours when the sun begins to set and I shall have it ready for you; perhaps you could go see some of the other villagers?”.
“Thank you Operk, I appreciate your kindness”.
Walking back towards the dwelling I was first taken to, Jonule happily approached me, smiling as he often did.
“My, my Avis, did you enjoy the celebrations, they were marvellous, were they not? My people will stay happy for a long time; the fun, the food, the laughter, it brings joy to me to see”.
“Yes and I am pleased that you did not slaughter me when I arrived”. I said with a touch of sarcasm.
A huge smirk crept across his face, his lips tightening, then a sudden burst of laughter ensued.
“Oh my Avis, you are a comedian at will, do not worry, although I like the taste of freshly baked human, I have had my fill for today”. Jonule winked at me, giving me a feeling of uneasiness.
“Now my dear, I have arranged a dwelling for you to stay in, it was home to one of my dearest of friends, but he has chosen to leave us for another adventure; please, come in”.
My dwelling was situated next to Jonules. It was roughly sized to about half of his, but I much preferred the homely feeling, rather than a large void of luxury, without a personality. A plaque was perched to the left of the door with my name etched into it; as was the same with others, so as not to confuse. A rokson bird, also smaller than the other, sat perched; a small bed had been prepared, the base formed from a strong wood; laid atop were cushions and a quilt to bathe me in comfort as I slept. The floor was far from exhausted, it appeared as if newly placed just for me; not for long I thought, remembering the comments of Doris.
“Thank you”. I said in delight.
“You are more than welcome, if there is anything you need, let me know. Dinner is an hour after sunset, make yourself at home and speak to my people”.
I emptied my sack, placing the items I had brought on the shelving, next to my bed; my silver dagger taking pride of place.
“Squawk, pretty dagger”.
Startled I looked up at the rokson bird in disbelief, did it actually just speak to me? Could today get any more unusual than it already was?
“Squawk, pretty dagger”.
My jaw dropped as the bird, again, spoke to me.
“Squawk, why the long face, I can talk, squawk”.
“What? How?”.
“Avis, Avis pretty name�
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Staring at the bird for a good thirty seconds, I shook my head; perhaps wolves can meow as well.
“So… you can talk… what is your name?”.
“Squawk, my name is Freddy-Fred-Freddy, but you can call me mike”.
“Ok… what is your real name mike?”. My face squinting in disapproval.
“Mark”.
“So it is mark, not mike?”.
“Squawk, squawk, do not mark mike”. The bird flew around the room, making a mammoth racket as it did so.
“Excuse me”. A small voice said.
Looking behind the door I saw Zinmbe, with a slight look of concern upon her face.
“I am sorry to disturb upon your new dilemma, I heard the swirling of many a noise. I see you have met your rokson bird, Bibi”.
“So that… is the bird’s name then”. I said relieved to finally discover it.
“Yes, he is quite the joker to new folks, but as he becomes accustomed he relaxes down to a kind, gentle soul”.
“Well, I do hope he calms down soon”. Diving down, as Bibi flew past, seemingly trying to take out one of my eyes.
“Bibi, End”. Zinmbe said whilst raising her hand up, as if a commanding spell had been given.
Bibi gently flew back down onto the perch then closed his eyes.
“Thank you Zinmbe”.
“You are upmost welcome. Avis, would it be unkind if I could make a suggestion? Would you join me in my dwelling? I feel there is much I can teach you; perhaps you can get some quiet now Bibi is lulled”.
“Yes, I would like that; I have quite a journey ahead of me and could do with all the help I can get”.
“That you could”. Zinmbe said whilst lowering her head, turning towards the door to exit.
Following Zinmbe, I was expecting to just go into another standard dwelling, but hers was slightly outside of the village and to my surprise it was not upon the ground; it was built within a large oak tree, in fact a huge oak tree, towering above all the others, like a giant’s play-toy. A staircase had been carved, twisting itself around the tree. Each step I took gave a similar creek to that of the hallway of the inn at Malkaretz. Winding my way around the tree at least ten times, we reached the top; her dwelling was positioned cosily between a large gap in the branches. On the balcony was a selection of herbs and spices in broken, worn down pots. A small black mixing dish was in the corner of the balcony, hanging from a strong branch above.