by J. M. Lee
That night I sat on the stoop with the Spriton family, watching the suns set across the gentle plains. I felt for the first time that we were all connected, regardless of distance. It is not a single place that holds us together, but a collection of places, all within the same tapestry. Is that tapestry then merely a map of Thra? Or is it something that transcends geography itself? To this question I still have no answer, even after my many travels.
Swoothu Training
Swoothu and Windsifters are both creatures that can be trained to carry messages and items over long distances. However, the two have very different strengths; while a Windsifter may reach its destination much more quickly and without fail, they are more aloof, preferring to heed the Song of Thra rather than fulfill more mundane tasks set forth by Gelfling.
Swoothu, as an alternative, are slightly more convincible creatures motivated by food and shelter. They are able to understand some aspects of Gelfling speech, as well as able to remember multiple destination requests. In addition, they are bigger than Windsifters and can carry more than small items or a single letter. This added bulk means Swoothu are slower and can sometimes take unum to arrive; however, many Gelfling prefer them to Windsifters because of their generally amiable dispositions.
The training of Swoothu is something in which Spriton dirt workers excel. Swoothu nests are built throughout the wood of Sami Thicket, allowing the winged creatures to rest after their long journeys, as well as eat, drink, find a mate, and raise offspring, all in the protected safety of the thicket. The Swoothu prefer covered dens high in the trees; in the wild they build such nests from mud and sticks. The Spriton-built dens are crafted from twine, clay, and sanded board, filled with hay and other bedding, which the Swoothu seem to enjoy immensely.
For training, Spriton work alongside several Swoothu at once, teaching them Gelfling language commands in exchange for morsels of roasted fruit. The Swoothu will do almost anything for the treats, flying in complex patterns on their transparent, buzzing wings. The process teaches the Swoothu that Gelfling can be trusted and, perhaps more importantly, the benefit of living among them. As the Swoothu grow older, their adoration of their Gelfling partners is exhibited in frequent visits, even when no messages are being delivered.
When Swoothu are ready to begin their work flying between major Gelfling locations—namely Stone-in-the-Wood, the Castle of the Crystal, Sami Thicket, and Ha’rar—they accompany Spriton traders on their voyages. The choice to depart is always left to the Swoothu. Many young Swoothu are fearful of the area beyond the thicket, but there comes a time when their curiosity exceeds their caution. Many Swoothu will travel with their Spriton hosts for unum before they are ready to make the journeys on their own.
Food
The Spriton’s long tradition of agricultural wisdom is known by all the seven clans; most of the produce found in larger Gelfling villages originates from the Spriton’s cleverly irrigated fields and robust crops. Thanks to countless generations perfecting the art of gardening and communing with Thra, the Spriton have developed ways to elongate growing seasons and yield bigger crops. They have even found methods of growing fruits and vegetables that do not normally grow in their region, whether due to climate or environment.
Due to the bounty of their agriculture practices, the Spriton’s diet is traditionally heavy on fruit and vegetables. They rarely eat meat, and when they do, it is from a carefully chosen creature that is slaughtered swiftly and with great respect. Living in harmony with plants and creatures is a tenet of Spriton culture, possibly springing from the legend of the Six Sisters, a song that sings of the seven tasks assigned to the first maudra.
Spriton cuisine is often in the form of greens mixed with vegetables and fruits, sometimes marinated in a tangy sauce or seasoned with fire-toasted seeds or nuts. Although the Spriton rarely eat meat, their cheeses are a treasure of great variety, ranging from soft, spreadable kinds to those as hard as rocks and better suited to grating and melting. Such products are widely sought, and fetch good prices, especially in places like Ha’rar, where they are hard to come by.
Songs of the Spriton
I learned this sad lament from the Podlings who lived in a small hut beside the home of my hosts in Sami Thicket. Though the Podlings were normally lively and cheerful, during my time in Sami Thicket, one of the young Podlings was tragically caught unaware by a panicked Horner. It was a sad day indeed. His funeral was held in the Pavilion and attended by Podlings and Spriton alike; as his family prepared his body for burial, his father sang this song through his tears. I share it here along with a rough translation.
Podling Funeral Song
Tindyebo Bekna Staba doga alori
Shyata-oyo zeshaba aduma doda avi
Yamda bi kiraba Vapa So shi
Dze Aslampia ’pida ya utomshi
Boka babi, yamda shoshi ashao
Ada bao temar mots nyotyano
“Yeta ’pida soraro?” bao temar’ashai
Aslampia shyayo adado vatai
“Apada arwe shi. Apadido dana
Aslam mala-ga sazaba ya Thra”
Within the Endless Forest I wandered
I met a creature dressed in bone white
Its eyes were bright like the Silver Sea
I knew it was Death come for me
I fell to my knees in front of him and cried
Still he didn’t listen to my sad request
“Why me?” I asked in a tearful voice
He sighed before he replied
“I’m merely a servant performing my duty
It is Thra that is calling you home”
Somewhat to the north, between Sami Thicket and the Endless Forest, is a natural ravine formed by a long-evaporated river. Here, the rumors go, many Gelfling have spotted strange figures, their spidery silhouettes cast long and dark against the golden walls of the valley. At night, the rumors sing, droning howls and chants echo from within like a chorus of wailing spirits.
Though I visited this place several times during my travels, I never sighted any of these mysterious figures myself. The valley itself is quite beautiful, flowing almost like a river and full of stones. The wind called in strange refrains, rushing through the contours of the ravine, but I never heard the moaning voices. When the suns set, the trees that grow from the top of the ravine throw their shadows along the walls, stretching them in sometimes ominous proportions. But as much as I searched for the supernatural creature, or creatures, I did not find them. And, as far as I know from the tales of historians and other travelers, neither has anyone else.
Despite my personal experiences, I cannot deny the number of songs that have been written about the mysterious valley and its even more mysterious inhabitants. Some songs say the ravine is filled with the ghosts of a long-gone race. Others say it is where the Arathim now reside, and it is their many-armed bodies projecting the inky black shadows. Yet other songs claim the valley is the birthplace of the Hunter, the beast told of in many Spriton and Stonewood tales. My favorite version of this song is one that tells of the way in which the Hunter became such a bloodthirsty ghoul that he used a sharp rock to cut away his soul, rendering him without a heart. His disembodied spirit remains in the valley and moans for his body’s return.
The Hunter’s Knife
Creeping in the shadow valley, the Hunter walks in pain
His bloodlust overpowers him, his rage he can’t contain
Yet even in his breast, a shriveled heart remains
And so he finds a sharpened rock and fashions him a knife
To stop the bleating of his heart every time he takes a life
To cut away the soul that cannot bear his destiny of strife
He strikes upon his shadow, wields the knife upon his soul
Crying tears of misery, longing to be un
-whole
Then splits away his heart, leaving red a gaping hole
His severed spirit flickers weak, like light within a glass
Pain and sorrow, heart and soul, forevermore outcast
Through a grin of victory, the wicked Hunter laughs
“With this done, it’s over now—from pain finally free
From one, two made! All split and rent asunder we
No longer whole, no longer us. Now, just you and me”
The Hunter runs and leaves him there, beating out in pain
Writhing with four wretched arms, miserably cleft in twain
Howling in the shadow valley, the Hunter’s heart remains
Most Gelfling celebrate the Day of the Great Sun with traditional summer activities—carrying water, taking a day of rest, and the like. I learned that among the Spriton, who name this celebration Longest Day, this event is observed with what they call “sun filling.” In the days leading up to Longest Day, the Spriton cut back the trees surrounding Sami Thicket and remove the thatching from their roofs so only the rafters remain. This way, when the Great Sun takes his longest journey across the sky, his light can fill the homes of the Spriton—enough, the hope is, to last the rest of the summer and through winter until the next trine.
During the course of Longest Day, any old or discarded items that have been cleaned out are gathered in the Spriton hearth and burned. The fire rages for the entire day, in effigy of that which is no longer needed or desired. Finally, homes sorted and dusted and filled with sun, the head of each household takes a small handful of ash from the hearth and sprinkles it atop their re-thatched roofs. In this way, the first coat of dust is a respectful reminder of the old.
Here is a song sung during sun filling, in particular when beating out heavy quilts and mats so they may be filled with sun instead of dust.
Sun-Filling Song
Hey-oh, aye-yo, hey
Blessed Longest Day
Yea-oh, hey-oh, yo
Gray burned up by gold
Fie-fey, hi-ho, fie
Grass of greenest green
Hi-ho, yea-hey, hi
Clearest bluest sky
Mun-yo, hi-ha, mun
Fill up with the sun
Hey-oh, aye-yo, hey
Blessed Longest Day
Sami Thicket is a small wood with two hearts; one is the Spriton Pavilion, where the hearth and homes are. The other nexus is a short walk through the wood, where the ground dips lower toward a winding brook. At the bottom of this bowl-like valley is a squat tree with fat, bulging roots and thin, reedy branches ruffled with hand-shaped golden leaves. This is the Low Tree, the Spriton’s patron tree. Its roots are as gnarled as Aughra’s knuckles, rising above the ground so one can wander beneath in a maze of dangling roots and vines. Youngling Spriton play here, and elders meditate in its shade. Sami means “to rest”; I believe, after spending many days listening to the wind in its fragile leaves, that it is this tree that gives the thicket its everlasting name.
Ode to the Low Tree
Come sleep beneath the swaying boughs
Of the Low Tree in the wood
Roots that bind the earth to stone
Of the Low Tree in the wood
Rest your head on her knee and dream
Oh, the Low Tree in the wood
Water drink up from the crystal stream
Oh, the Low Tree in the wood
Hear songs whispered within the leaves
Of the Low Tree in the wood
Proud maudra of the flower fields
Oh, the Low Tree in the wood
A Final Word
I ended my stay with the Spriton on a crisp autumn day, a pair of new farewell sandals on my feet and a pack full of dried squash and emroot. My Spriton friends walked me to the edge of Sami Thicket to say goodbye, leaving me with words of encouragement and wishes of good fortune. In my youth, I would have never expected such familial friendliness from our longtime rivals; as I left through the well-kept, peaceful fields where Spriton and Podlings worked side by side, I reflected on this singular change of heart, this small symptom of a greater change in me. That things are not always the way we expect them to be, and the only way to discover this is to walk among others with an open mind and heart.
North of the Endless Forest, the Black River flows through Namopo Valley toward the northern shores. The land rises on either side of the river’s neck into hard blue and gray mountains. The tallest peaks among the range are well above the place where the trees stop, eternally capped in white snow that shines, unmelting, even under the light of the suns.
Where the Black River meets the Silver Sea, the cliffs rise sharply on either side, covered by ice in the winter and kissed by mineral-green waves in the summer. There the domed, thatched roofs of Ha’rar cluster around the magnificent Vapran Citadel—home of the All-Maudra, and capital of the Gelfling world.
The Vapra are known in the Skarith Land for their elegant appearance and lifestyle, luxuries afforded to them by, and often displayed as proof of, their relationship with the Skeksis. Flowing garments and extravagant hairstyles are not uncommon, even among the Vapra who perform trade or menial work; jewelry of metals and gems is worn to signify prestige and wealth, so that the social hierarchy even within Ha’rar can be preserved. Similarly, the Vapra have taken on a particular way of speaking, which in some ways resembles the accent of some of the Skeksis Lords when they use the Gelfling tongue. This accent is distinct and noticeable, and the Vapra seem to enjoy emphasizing it when speaking with non-Vapran Gelfling or with the Skeksis themselves.
Despite their reputation, once I had spent more than a nominal amount of time in Ha’rar, I found that many of my preconceptions dissipated like snow melting in morning sun. Although some Vapra still treated me as an outsider, it was no more extreme than when I had visited any of the other clans, and in truth, the overwhelming majority of Vapra that I met were considerate, curious, and polite. Beyond that, I found their knowledge of history and the world in general to be quite worthy of my expectations. Thanks to their high literacy and wealth of written arcana, most Vapra have a thorough knowledge of the history of the Gelfling, the Skarith Land, the Skeksis, and many other topics. How they use this wisdom is left to them, of course.
Daily Life
Life in Ha’rar is very different from life in other areas of the Skarith Land, and not just because of its chilly climate. Thanks to its location at the mouth of the Black River, the Vapra of Ha’rar enjoy a constant influx of merchants and goods. And, thanks to the All-Maudra’s relationship with the Skeksis Lords, Ha’rar is a world of riches and luxury, where Gelfling are able to devote their time and energy to scholarly and political activities. Of the trade work performed by the Vapran artisans, colored glass and fine decorative metalwork are most famous; the stained glass windows in the rear of the All-Maudra’s chambers—visible even from outside the Citadel—are one of the most magnificent artifacts in the modern Gelfling world.
The Gelfling of Ha’rar have very private lives, spending their days working in their trade, and their evenings at home with their families. Rather than all in the clan rising and working at the same time, the Vapra’s schedules are self-determined based on their needs and the needs of the others who rely on them. This is effective for the large number of Vapra (and some other Gelfling) who make up the Ha’rar community; like a creature with many organs, the Vapra all do their part, together but specialized, and thus the community flourishes.
Due to their location so far north, the seasons of Ha’rar are slightly different from those of other areas where Gelfling dwell. The winters are long and dark, with snow falling nearly every day except on rare sunny days in summer. Although I am accustomed to cold winters, even I was caught off guard by the depth of
the winters endured by the Vapra. On the last days nearing the solstice, the Great Sun’s light shines for only a few moments, and on others not at all.
It is probably ignorant for me to belabor this phenomenon. The Vapra themselves, of course, think little of it; preparation for the darkness of winter is a recurring event, the shortening days at the end of summer a daily reminder. Yet I cannot help but see how walking on the shore between light and dark has made a lasting impact on these strong-willed Gelfling of the north. At the very least, it left its mark on me.
The Role of the All-Maudra
Long ago, the seven clans were fraught with discord. We struggled with seemingly unsurmountable rivalries, constantly engaged in territorial skirmishes and dwelled on differences we thought we could not overcome. However, thanks to the Skeksis’ vision and wisdom, we were able to find order. The Skeksis chose the Vapra to represent all clans in the Skeksis court, finalizing once and for all which clan’s leader would be called All-Maudra from that day forward. From her throne in the Citadel, the Vapran All-Maudra heeds the Skeksis’ will and brings it to the rest of the Gelfling. And in this way, we have order, and wisdom, and most importantly, peace.
The All-Maudra bears a heavy burden, of course. The Skeksis are formidable and demanding and, for all their wisdom, understandably impatient with us mortal Gelfling. Unlike maudras of other clans, who are able to devote all their time to caring for their clan, the All-Maudra must divide her focus between the Vapra, the six other clans, and the Skeksis Lords. I believe this is one reason that the Gelfling of Ha’rar have come to self-regulate their daily tasks in such an organized fashion; without their individual responsibilities met, the livelihood of the city would be in jeopardy. It is very noble and respectable that as a community, they have come to an arrangement that allows the All-Maudra to fulfill her duties.