by Sarah Cathey
Landing near the edge of her hut Shakja quickly ran inside and grabbed her berry sack and a couple of tools she might need.
It did not take long before Shakja realized she was needed in the settlement more than Shook needed her. She walked around the settlement grabbing as many herbs and mushrooms as she could find from deceased Drjeen, then stepped back into her hut and pulled out the cookpot, settling it on the circle of stones and sticks, already set to be lit.
Hot broth and soup were not common in the settlement. But, pulling the second of two fire starting kits Shook had given her from under her bed she knew no Drjeen would dare turn her in for what she was about to do.
Before lighting the fire, she emptied one of the waterproof sacks into a basket by the cookpot and took it to the pond, bending to fill it up before returning to her hut and dumping the water into the pot. She took out her flint and bent down to light the fire.
As the fire warmed the water, Shakja emptied out the sacks, organizing the berries, mushrooms, herbs and other edibles, chopping up some and adding them to the cookpot, stirring it as she did so. Soon she had a good healing stew bubbling away. While the stew cooked, she added the remainder of the edibles and herbs back into some of the sacs and found bowls strewn about her hut, adding them to one of the empty sacks.
Once the stew was fully cooked, she carefully took the pot off the fire and let it cool before picking it up and taking it out of her hut. She walked toward the huts near the lake where she saw another Drjeen moving among the sick. She saw that it was her old friend Fafnir, an old and wise Drjeen. When she reached him, she could not raise a hand in greeting due to having her hands full with the stew pot but when she was close enough, she said, “Greetings Fafnir, I see you are helping the sick. I thought I might help you. I made some stew and have some food and healing herbs. Where should I start?”
Fafnir looked at Shakja, his face was also beginning to show signs of the sickness, though, despite his age, those symptoms were not as prevalent as others. He did not speak at first.
“I can help you.” Shakja nervously spoke.
He nodded. “Come, my friend. Yes, you can.”
Together they walked along the planking stepping into every hut looking for survivors. It was not spoken, but well known that this may be the last meal any of them had before being exiled. Those who could not join the exodus, well… no one spoke of that.
Chapter 13
The three moons had passed over the continent at least three times and in all that time Aput had stayed in his quarters as ordered spending his time doing two things: contemplating the consequences the king and queen would bestow upon him and obsessively thinking about the particle dust falling from the sky. What was it? Why did it fall? And, what was the dust doing to the Drjeen?
Not so much had a single Drjeen knocked on his door, summoned him, called him, nor even walked down the corridor outside his door. Had the royals gone so far as to post guards outside his quarters? It seemed preposterous. After all, they looked down upon Aput as if he were from the lower castes. Yet, for some reason, they did not yet punish him. His only speculation was that the royals too worried and Aput may be their only salvation despite their natural urge to have him killed. Those who suggested any theory outside the norm were not as praised as one would think.
He’d spent the better part of his time in isolation staring out windows and watching the particles which came close enough fall as if they were lighter than air. Their color, while blue was also effervescent and luminous. It was a curious sight, but one Aput knew if he had the time to examine, he could find answers for.
Being on ordered separation Aput also was not allowed to watch media, nor read or receive media. He knew nothing of what was happening on the outside and he feared what he didn’t know. It was, after all what the Ancients considered one of the most esteemed tenets of society.
“It is what you don’t know, that you don’t know.”
Both inspiring and allowing for a lifetime of contemplation as well as horrifying in what could be drawn from it, the tenet was one of the thousands which Aput would never forget. He needed to know what these particles were and to save Jeen he needed a sample. He’d been trying to reach out and grab one from his upper windows but could never seem to reach out far enough. He watched as the particles never seemed to cling to anything outside. They merely appeared to either “melt” of sorts or vanish and reappear on the other end of the object they landed on. Was it possible that the particles actually were going through objects, as if in their reality they were on a separate plane; a separate dimension?
There was only one way for him to find out. Aput would need to escape his quarters against the orders of the king and he must somehow gather particles. Neither venture seemed comforting. But both had to be done.
Aput stepped away from the window, also noting that he hadn’t seen a Drjeen outside in nearly three moons. There was something much more complicated going on and he was being left in the lurch. Aput donned inconspicuous clothing and filled a small bag with provisions. He would keep his microscope, slides and other scientific materials in his quarters, knowing that this was the only safe place he could observe for any length of time and take notes. This would be where his work was done. Aput just needed to get outside.
He waited for darkness to begin to settle on the second moon to hide in the shadows and hoping he would only be mistaken as a random Drjeen walking around to clear his thoughts. Once the darkness began to set Aput meditated on his decision for some time before taking in a long and focused breath. It was time for him to leave. He would save the Drjeen and even if, against the king and queen’s desire, he must take the risk, even if that meant a risk to himself.
His plan was simple. He would leave his quarters and take the long walk down the corridor. He would turn to his dominant side and then veer to his non-dominant side before finding the passage out of the building and onto the courtyard. Once in the courtyard, he would walk to the far end where he could expect to spend time uncontacted. The far side of the courtyard was used for internal reflection and therefore few if any Drjeen would question seeing another sitting alone, quiet and focused on their thoughts rather than passerbys. Under this guise, Aput would collect his samples and then make his way back to his quarters to begin his research.
He repeated the plan over and again during meditation. He would not deviate from the plan unless forced to. When he was ready, he stood.
Aput donned a large cloak to help conceal himself and then went to his door. He punched in the code and it opened. Taking another calming breath, he stepped outside and turned to look down the corridor.
He was immediately struck by a power stick which dropped him to the ground paralyzed. He could only feel the sharp pang as residual electricity ran through his body’s nerves. Allowing that pain to pass his muscles were useless and he lay there like a living corpse. Standing above him was Ittar, holding a soldier’s power stick. The only thing Aput thought as his mind faded away was, “how in the world did Ittar get a power stick?”
Shakja had been cutting mushrooms, gathering and crushing herbs, and boiling the broth for the better of two moons. The military had already begun the forced migration to the Cavern of the Ancients as rumors persisted on the reality of what was happening. As the military systematically removed the settlement population, Shakja simply fell back deeper into the settlement serving whoever remained. The population was now only a few hundred, but what remained in her bowl would be gone well before all of them ate for the day. That meant that younglings and the elderly, both the weakest of the population would start their journey without sustenance. Shakja had the common belief that the military would not be feeding the migrants on their journey. They would have to fend for themselves.
Meanwhile, on the few occasions that Shakja managed to make her way to the hidden retreat she’d been sharing with Shook overlooking the deep and expansive valley below, Shook had gathered enough strength to continue his own
treatment and could now not only walk without aid but could also fly, though not in any sort of attack formation. He used his ability to move to exercise and strength train while Shakja was away. Every day he was growing stronger, though he could not help but realize that his scales were weakening on their edges. They were becoming brittle and easy to break off. This was not good for a warrior who used his scales in combat as well as he used his armor to deflect an attack.
He brushed a talon along the length of his chest, feeling the abrasive and rough texture, quite unlike the polished sheen he was used to. Even his horns, a powerful weapon, seemed to weigh less on his head. They too appeared to be losing strength, but what would be their demise. He couldn’t help but look at Salett’s two horns which sat alone in a corner of the cave as if they should be forgotten.
It was now time for Shook to make his presence known. Each time Shakja returned she would update him on the happenings in the settlement. While Shakja may not have realized what was happening, Shook understood that on the final push the soldiers would be ordered to assassinate all banished Drjeen. It was their way. There was no real banishment. Those who were sent to the forest were met by a hail of Daken-riders wielding their spears. The banished were executed. It was only Shakja’s escape which kept her alive. While she clung to the hope of surviving in the banished forest, Shook knew she would not and had already made plans to secure her safety, though he did not know if it would work.
Banishment was much more elaborate than common Drjeen could ever imagine. The lower settlement played their part though, better than the royals and warrior-caste could have ever thought. The entire process of going blind to a banished Drjeen helped to make it easier for non-banished Drjeen to accept the fate of their loved ones. It became so effective that, as in the case with Shakja, her closest friend would not talk to her when positioned in the same room and even in front of the princess.
Shook needed to act now if he was going to protect Shakja. He was still weak but had taken to flight several times in the past moon phase. He donned his armor, packing supplies for the long migrant journey as well as all of Shakja’s belongings including Salett’s horns. Then he stood on the edge of the bluff and let himself fall. Halfway down he unfurled his massive wings and allowed the wind to pull him up. Then in short, but powerful strokes Shook began flying toward the settlement.
Shakja was emptying the last of her stew into the bowl of a feeble and near dead Drjeen. The female was hunched over and shaking in pain. The sickness would take her soon and while Shakja knew it was wrong to pour her stew to those who would soon perish as opposed to those who needed to move forward, she couldn't help herself. At least this Drjeen would pass with a full stomach.
“Shouldn’t you be leaving?” the female said as Shakja poured the last of her stew into the elderly woman’s bowl.
They could hear the forced anger of warriors forcing Drjeen to begin their march. They were so close.
“Perhaps.” Shakja offered a slight smile.
“They will kill you if you do not leave. You are safer in the banished forest.”
“I know. I just can’t…”
The warriors were outside the hut trying to move another elderly Drjeen faster.
“I will die here. I was born in the settlement and I will die in the settlement.”
Shakja looked at the woman curiously, wondering how she would die and if she meant it.
The woman went on, “Do you know what a juniper mushroom is?”
“I have heard the myth, but it is only that. Myth. I have never seen one in the forest in all my time searching.”
The elderly female leaned in, “They do not grow in the forest, my dear.”
“Oh, no? Then where do they grow?”
The woman could hardly stifle a toothy grin as she slurped down half of the stew. The warriors had begun burning huts to force out the rest of the population.
“They grow in my cabin. Those soldiers will soon find out.”
Shakja had heard of both the medicinal and deathly effects of the juniper mushroom. Medicinally it could completely heal a Drjeen from any illness and make them stronger than they could ever desire. In its raw state or ill-prepared the juniper mushroom would kill any Drjeen who ingested it within a fraction of a moment. But it was a myth and there was no evidence that it ever exist…
The elderly woman pulled a leather bag that was hidden from around her waist. She placed the bag in front of Shakja.
“Consider this my payment. Cut them into quarters and bury those quarters in warm and moist soil. It must be dark; no light. They will regrow in four days’ time, with each quarter producing many more. Do not eat them raw. You must steam them to remove the toxins. Then let them shrivel and dry until hardened. They will not dry if you do not remove all the toxins. Drying is the only way to know if they are safe.”
Shakja held back a smile. What the elderly female said, was ridicules. There was no evidence that the juniper mushroom ever existed. It was only alive in stories.
The woman plucked a full mushroom from the bag she’d placed in front of Shakja. “Do as I say. It is the only way the Drjeen will survive in the cavern. You will be their queen because you have the juniper mushroom and their only means to survive.”
It was the ramblings of the elderly and sick Drjeen.
Through the hut’s entry burst in three warriors, their weapons drawn and ready to attack, or ward off the attack if the case need be.
Shakja recognized the three males as Daken-riders. Two looked at the third. “What are your orders captain?”
The third Daken-rider stood there staring at Shakja. She knew him of course as she did all riders and their Daken. The female that stood before him had saved his Daken from illness and injury more than once. But he had his orders, though he could not let them escape his tongue. “Follow your orders.” Then the captain stepped from the hut unable to watch.
One of the Daken-riders took the elderly Drjeen by the wing, leading her to the hut’s doorway.
The elderly female turned and looked at Shakja. She popped the mushroom into her mouth. “Remember. You are now their queen as I have been yours.”
Suddenly, Shakja recalled her mother’s own stories of a Drjeen who lived among the lower caste who was at one time a queen. She secretly mended the injured and healed the sick. Shakja noted how the Daken-rider was careful with the elderly female. He was not brash, nor unkind. If anything, he treated her as his own people, his own elderly mother.
As the woman approached the hut doorway she collapsed. That was it. No convulsions. No vomit. No nothing. One moment she was there and the next, gone. Shakja pulled the leather sack toward her and as the warriors worked to lift the woman from the ground Shakja tied the sack around herself, hoping her clothing would hide the bag.
Once the woman was gently moved from the hut the two remaining warriors focused on Shakja. They raised their spears and pulled them back. She would be executed right there. She would not fulfill the elderly woman’s prophecy. Perhaps Shakja should have left when the woman told her she must. There was no need to dwell on that now.
Shakja closed her eyes, calmed her mind and was then met with a familiar voice. “Lower your weapons. This fugitive is my prisoner.”
Shook stepped into the hut and Shakja wanted to run to him and throw her entire weight at him. Understanding his ruse, Shakja remained where she was.
Chapter 14
“Where am I?” Aput struggled to sit up. He couldn’t yet open his eyes and while he struggled to move, he knew the straps around his talons, wings, and legs were too tight for him. He didn’t even think someone such as Shook would be able to break the straps. “Where am I?” He shouted to no answer.
He remembered the ghastly and wide grin coming from Ittar’s mouth as he noticed a power stick in his former supervisor’s hand. He collapsed with the question of where had it come from? But, something in the fogginess of sound surrounding him answered that question. There was a voice both f
amiliar and unfamiliar. Who’s was it?
Aput struggled once more, but the straps hadn’t budged.
“Where am I? You can grant me that at least? I’m of no harm.”
Still, the chatter was soft and rumbling as if a small boulder rolled down a mountainside nearby. “I beg you! What is happening? Ittar? Are you there? What is—.”
“Silence!” The unfamiliar voiced shouted in anger. “You are about to be purged. This will all be over soon.”
Purged? What did that mean?
“What have I done? I’ve done nothing.” Aput struggled again, his ease far from calm and his anxiety now taking over. “Why can’t I open my eyes.”
Aput could feel the Drjeen walking close to him. He could feel the confidence and power in the Drjeen’s vibrations. Aput wasn’t a vibration Drjeen so to speak, but he could at times when his anxiety was high, feel the slightest vibration. The unknown Drjeen was warm to touch, though not in nature. There was anger in him, a threatening and ominous plight to do harm.
A talon with sharpened claws slid along the soft under-neck of flesh exposed by the straps. Aput felt the claws, though not exuding significant pressure, cut a shallow line, just enough to draw traces of blood. Then the Drjeen slid his tongue from his mouth and lopped it up.
“Weak in form, but strong on the mind. You will serve me well.”
“Enough of this!” Ittar scolded, “He is not strong in mind. He is stupid, a dullard. He is insignificant.” Ittar would have gone on, but Aput could tell his former supervisor recognized a breach of the hierarchy if he had. “Can you just eliminate him? He needs to be eliminated before chaos ensues in the palace.”
“I do not think you are worried about chaos, Ittar. I think you are worried that this youngling is far brighter than you will ever be. I think you worry this youngling will usurp your power and you will be left to the wayside.”