Registered Member #1273
Joined: 2:56:54 pm GMT 03/23/08
Posts: 536
Hello.
I first played on the server commonly known as Thain in late 2006, and for a good 3 or 4 years I was steady, every day (normally nights too). I finally stopped logging in sometime in 2010 or thereabouts, though I still dropped in from time to time; my longstanding love for Thain has held fast as entire playerbases have come and gone, and staff with them.
This is a post I've been trying to bring myself to make for a long time, but held back from because I didn't want it to come across as shameless self-promotion; hence this long preamble. I want to post something as a thank you to the writers and players who have made and continue to make Thain such a wonderful, engaging fantasy world - but i don't want it to look like I'm just trying to do myself a favour IYSWIM...
Anyway.
What it is, is this: a book, entitled Shadow Sister, which I wrote for my RP characters Beth, Sai, Yaki, Eswyn and Nos (or versions thereof) and for which I owe considerable gratitude to Thain and player-base. Over the last few years I've written four novels in a world originally conceived as background for a tabletop RPG, and for which most inspiration came from playing with you guys (even though ''you guys'' was largely different guys back then!)
I wanted to actually post the whole PDF up, but the site has a 1Gb limit to uploads, and the document is about 3Gb. So I thought I could just post a link to the book hosted on another site, but that really does look like self-promotion, and that was never the point of this.
So, in the end I decided to do this: post the book here, in its own thread, in sections. The chapters are mostly long, and each has several parts, so there will be many posts .. the whole book is 170 000 words, which is probably not bad for a fantasy novel. But if anyone reading would like an actual PDF to read at your own pace please PM me an email address and I'll send it.
So preamble over, please forgive and indulge this! I know most of the players here like reading, and though I can't promise this is the very greatest fantasy book ever written, I have at least some confidence that it's enjoyable .. so with a final Thank You to all the players on Thain who led me to have the confidence to write like this, here is what I'll be posting over the next few weeks...
(btw, feedback is appreciated, but anyone who feels drawn to comment, please PM me rather than break up the flow here .. please?)
* * *
''Shadow Sister'' is a fantasy novel set in a far-distant future on Earth. The Empire where the story runs is low-tech, but magic based on singing is common. Its society is cultured and broadly peaceful, but slavery is normal and displays of wealth are ostentatious and expected. The Empire may be comparable to a number of ancient empires, real and imaginary - Byzantium, Ghana, Babylon, Angkor, Atlantis, Valinor...
The story is told in three interweaving parts:
The first is the past story of Sai, a girl sold into slavery and bought by a powerful couple, who use her as a tool in their power games. We see her from birth till her eventual freedom, and we learn about her and the world where she has to live, as she does.
The second is the story of Saiyali the ex-slave, who finds that her skills, talents and experience - also the people she meets - push her into a life as a dancer, thief and finally assassin - a member of the mythical Sisterhood of Shadows.
The third is a book-within-a-book entitled ''The Pocket Guide to the Empire'' which gives snippets of information about the setting in which the story takes place.
Registered Member #1273
Joined: 2:56:54 pm GMT 03/23/08
Posts: 536
Present: Beginning of the End [pt. 1]
''Go on then, look an' see! But if there's gold, we share it!''
''If you want t' share it, you look!''
''No way, it's your idea! I think it's horrible! But I want a share anyway – so that – so I won't tell on you!'' This was a girl's voice, and she laughed.
The other voice, a boy's, growled and muttered then finished, ''Fine, come on – help me pull her out.''
Waves lapped gently on pebbles again and again, one long slow hiss fading into the distance as the next faded in. Small crunches and splashes interrupted the sound, and these were accompanied by a few heavy dragging noises. Eventually two voices rose in disappointment, providing a short coda to the movement.
The voices belonged to a pair of children. One, a boy of about twelve, was wearing rough brown pants and a simple grey shirt fastened with strings. The other, a girl a year or so younger, was dressed in faded shades of mauve and blue, her pants and tie-up shirt matching perfectly the scarf wrapped around her head. It was a warm and humid late summer day and they were both barefoot. The pale grey sand and tiny shells of the small cliff-lined bay where they stood powdered their dark feet with grains that glistened and sparkled in the sunshine.
The boy continued patting around the woman's body, apparently looking for any pouches or pockets. The girl watched, slowly shaking her head.
''What?'' the boy exclaimed. ''She's out o' th' sea, y' know – finders keepers!'' He scowled and sighed, squinting a little in the mid-morning sun. Then, something about the woman's neck caught his eye and he frowned, leaning down to look closer.
She was certainly over thirty years old, and on the small side of average-height. She had thick black hair that was matted half-across her face, and she was dressed in a long-sleeved, calf-length cotton dress in swirling shades of bright red and purple. She had nothing on her feet, and her golden-brown skin was gathering a white dusting of salt as the sea water evaporated in the breeze. On the back of her neck was a large black tattoo of six slim interlocking circles. Her chest gurgled, and one recently-manicured finger twitched.
The boy's frown deepened. ''Oh no – No, look! She isn't dead though! Look! She's breathing!'' He fell to his knees and leaned over, holding his ear to the woman's mouth. ''Really Jiil – she's alive!''
The girl sprang over and started lifting the woman's feet up. She struggled, the boy began protesting but she cut him short. ''Jaak, help me lift her upside-down, get the water out of her!''
Between them, they managed to raise the woman's feet up from where she lay, then somehow worked their way, grunting with the effort, to her hips which they raised as high as they could. Water flowed out of her mouth and nose, and she coughed and spluttered reflexively. The two dropped her in shock and jumped back simultaneously; luckily she landed flat on her back again, and with her head lower than her chest on the slope of the shore, she continued to drain.
Jaak spoke quickly, panting from exertion and excitement. ''Jiil, I'm fastest, I'll run home an' try an' get Ba'Ranu wi' th' cart – Mama Yakiya too maybe. Stay here, ehh – don't let her die!'' He bounded off at top speed without waiting for a reply.
Jiil watched him run, knowing he was right about his being faster, and when he was out of sight, she turned away and sat down next to the woman.
She was beautiful, even though she was half-drowned and a truly terrible mess. Her eyes were closed and Jiil desperately wanted to know what colour they were. The woman's nose was broad and shapely, and her skin was as smooth as fresh clay. Her mouth was framed in wide, full lips, slightly turned up at the corners, giving her an impish, amused look even at rest.
The more Jiil stared, the more beautiful the woman appeared. She frowned uneasily. That tattoo's a slave kind – but she's got perfect fingers. Rich lady's fingers! It didn't make sense to her; she hoped Mama Yakiya could explain it.
Better still, this woman would live, and Jiil could ask her herself. She realised she wanted that very much – to get to meet this unexpected, exotic arrival, to hear where she'd come from and where she was going, and why she was lying drowned on their beach in the middle of nowhere.
The woman's chest was rattling and gurgling badly as she breathed in shallow, ragged breaths. It was deeply disturbing to Jiil, who'd seen her own mother die of pneumonia not even a year earlier. But that awful memory stirred another.
The song. I've got to do something, just till Mama Yakiya can see her – how does it go? She began humming, just softly, remembering the pitches and the length of each syllable carefully. As she remembered her voice got louder, the strange melody became clearer, and the air around her and just in front of her began to shimmer gently.
Yes! Alright, she thought to herself excitedly, the words now, the actual sounds— She began the melody again, this time her mouth forming each note into a syllable, and the shimmering air responded, coalescing into tiny globs of pale, floating light. She continued singing as she raised her hands through these, twisting and turning them gently to gather them onto her hands. It stuck as she sang, and she delighted in its ticklish warmth.
This was as much as any clever child might do; it was the next part which required the real skill, and in her heart Jiil was awkwardly aware that she didn't really know what she was doing. She simply felt she had to do something, and this was something she could do.
She intoned the last vowel of her chant and she allowed it to become the first sound of another, more complex melody with different words – words which weren't actual words but rather syllables that resonated together and made the glistening blobs of light ripple and dance. She cupped her hands into a hollow ball, fingers splayed to keep as much of the stuff as she could on them. Gently but firmly, as she went on singing the oddly abstract song, she pushed the glowing matter into the woman's chest. It spread over the material of the dress and quickly soaked in, and after a minute of song and gentle rubbing it had all disappeared.
Jiil kept her chant regular and tried not to let herself speed up in excitement, but she stumbled on a syllable and gave an unexpected gasp. At that moment the woman's breathing became ragged and rasping. Jiil screamed and jumped up in horror, the song lost, tears springing to her eyes.
''No! No! Oh no no no!, I've killed her! No!''
Fear and shame bloomed deep inside her, and her sobs echoed the whooping rasps coming from the now convulsing woman. Jiil finally screamed out loud and just at that moment the woman sat up and her whole body was shaken in one final spasm. A stream of foul-smelling, greyish-brown liquid streamed from her nose and mouth as she half retched and half coughed. Again, one, two more times, and then her eyes rolled back into her head and she dropped once more to the shingle, dead still.
The long wash of gentle waves on well-rounded pebbles continued, now broken only by Jiil's sobs, and one more soft crunch as she fell to her knees, head in hands.
''I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, so sorry!'' She kept repeating over and over, and her head fell lower and lower till it was finally resting on the woman's belly. She sobbed a moment longer and them her own body tensed, and she knelt bolt upright again, clapping and gasping in shock and wonder.
''You're breathing! You're still breathing! It worked! Ah, it worked!''
And now, Jiil's scream was truly piercing, and went on for quite a while as her mind did somersaults and tried to catch up.
By the time Jaak arrived back at the bay with a middle-aged, grey-bearded and well-wrinkled man on a cart pulled by two grey and brown work beasts, Jiil was sitting quietly next to the still unconscious woman stroking her forehead, with an odd look in her eyes. She'd also cleaned the woman's face and arranged her hair into something less lumpy.
The old man lifted the unconscious woman onto the flat bed of the wagon quite easily, and led the animals off the pebbly, sandy beach and up the steep path to the coast road. Once they were on the road, he jumped up into his seat at the front and got the beasts trotting.
As they rolled up and down the two or three hills between the bay and the town, none of the three could stop turning to stare from time to time. Jiil could barely look away and she kept stroking the woman's hair as she hummed a lilting, discordant and wordless tune. She seemed unwilling to do anything with the glimmering flecks of light that appeared faintly in the air as she sang.
''You know that doesn't work, Jiil – just humming, I mean. Don't do anything wi' the aenimus, an' nothing happens!'' Jaak taunted with a sneer.
Jiil sighed melodramatically and retorted, ''Yes it does work!''.
''No, it really doesn't, Jiil. Even I know that!'' Jaak snapped back sarcastically.
''Yes, it really does, Jaak!'' Jiil matched his tone exactly. ''It depends what y' want. If I sing a song I feel better even if I waste what I quicken. I still feel th' moment, an' if that's all I want then it works!''
She scowled and resumed her chant, as well as her gentle stroking of the woman's face and hair.
The old man kept the animals trotting as quickly as he dared without making the cart jolt and shake too badly. When they arrived at a small white house not far before the town, he stopped, and Jaak jumped down to run to the door and knock.
A small, stocky woman with squinting eyes in her dark, wrinkled face opened it, and beckoned to him, making it clear they should hurry. He jumped off the cart, and with help from the children lifted the unconscious body carefully and slowly into the house. The old woman indicated a threadbare couch against the far wall of the room, and when they had lain the young woman there, she ushered them all out insistently.
Jiil protested, ''Mama Yakiya, please let me stay and help you—!'' but was cut off as the old woman placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and fixed her with a kindly but firm gaze. Her indigo-black eyes seemed to grow and soften and what had looked rheumy, faded into opalescence. The thick-sinewy, surprisingly strong hand on Jiil's shoulder managed to find just the right pressure points inside; Jiil felt her ardour calming despite herself.
''Jiil, child – go and eat! You too, Jaak! And rest for crying out loud! You've both had a shock. I'll be doing no more than washing this poor girl and settling her down. Return in a few hours and we'll talk. I promise. She's not going anywhere just now!'' Her honed voice was far smoother than her creased face, and she talked with aristocratic expression that belied the rustic surroundings.
Jiil nodded reluctantly and followed Jaak out.
The man remained. ''Anything you'd like me to do, Mama Yakiya?''
Yakiya shook her head but smiled affectionately. ''No, thank you Ranu. You've done all you can in getting her here, you're a good heart. Those children are lucky to have you and Yekala. Go and eat too. Make sure they don't wolf theirs! I know children. They'll be back in a dozen ticks if they're allowed!''
They laughed together, nodding and sighing in mutual respect and understanding, and Ranu turned in silence, walked outside and closed the door gently behind him. He beckoned the children and the three drifted sombrely back to the road, arm-in-arm. As the cart drove away, Jiil gazed sadly back at Yakiya's house till it disappeared into the slope behind them.
The house was small and had a type of thatched roof common along the coast, made from thick, layered bundles of a certain leaf, then covered with a tight net of strings stretched and fixed to the ground at each corner of the house. A small garden outside was surrounded by thick, high bushes and a profusion of herbs and medicinal plants as well as food. She kept a few birds in a coop dug into the ground in a sheltered corner of the garden, and several small furry creatures scampered about nibbling the flowery lawn in front of the door. Its low, curving walls were also common in this coastal region of the Empire, so ravaged by ocean storms. The gaps between stones had been filled with wet clay also rendered evenly around the whole building, and dried hard with a mixture of stone powder and alchemic brew for a smooth, white finish. The large windows were sheets of thin-cut Obsidian that could be turned to let in a breeze.
Some people decorated the outsides of their houses with stones or shells in mosaic patterns; Yakiya's walls remained plain white, and on each side of the door hung a narrow net covered in bright red, climbing flowers. On the door itself hung a wreath that marked this place out as the home of a Cleric, and around the sides and the back of the place grew a small orchard of squat, spiky, wind-blown trees which provided food, medicine and also some shelter from the constantly battering winds.
Inside, a front room contained in its further half a low wooden table surrounded by sturdy sitting cushions on a couple of wool rugs, and the couch where the unconscious woman lay. The nearer half was a kitchen that felt airy and light despite its size. Bunches of drying flowers and herbs hung from heavy wooden roof beams and gave the space a musty, floral smell. Curtains covered every wall from floor to ceiling, except the front wall of the kitchen, where a large window showed the garden outside.
Yakiya turned from the door and let its curtain drop back. A serious expression now darkened her face. She walked over to the couch, where her unwitting visitor lay peacefully. Yakiya was short but stocky, and her strength was evident from her upright posture and the calm self-assurance in her eyes, which glimmered dark opalescent blue and gold. She was old enough for her hair to be almost completely silver, and it hung in long locks past her knees. She began winding these up, and when she'd tied the bunch inside itself, she wrapped it tightly in a long white cloth.
She moved quickly and deliberately, like someone far younger than she appeared. Her face was deeply wrinkled and creased, and she had several incongruous scars down each cheek that extended up across her temples and continued under her hairline. Once she'd tied her hair up, she stood next to the bed and carefully ran her hands over the woman's prone form, pausing at several points to push and feel with her fingertips. She raised a surprised eyebrow at the neck tattoo; on finishing her brief examination she frowned and shook her head, then walked across the room towards her kitchen with a long sigh. She took down several bunches of pale green leaves, as well as cooking implements, and everything out across her roomy kitchen workbench. Then she drew water into a pan from a glass pump over the large obsidian sink, and set it on the low black glass heating range.
She picked up a large shiny black glass spoon and opened the range to dig out a couple of scoops of ash, which she sprinkled into the pan of water. Then she fed the stove with small shards of wood from a basket on the floor, and blew inside till they caught from the embers. She took a flame with a taper and lit several wax candles around the room, before returning to close the stove. Then she turned to the warming pan.
She began crushing a few leaves from each bunch into the warming water, and as she did so she hummed a strange, dissonant melody. The air around her began glowing, and she gathered some of it on her hands, which she then washed into the water. She stirred with her spoon and began intoning sounds that might have been words if they were simpler, shallower, less resonant. As the liquid took on a pale grey aura and the wisps of sweet steam rising from it began to darken, she added new phrases till the final few syllables made the paste pulsate dully in the pan.
Yakiya took it off the stove and carried it over to where the unconscious woman lay. She set it on the floor and pulled back a curtain by the head of the couch; shelves stacked with myriad colours and types of cloth and material covered the wall. She carefully selected a long thin yellow piece and let its end dangle into the pot of grey liquid, making rest fold down after till the whole strip was submerged. Then as she hummed a few loud syllables, she lifted the soaked cloth from the pot and placed it carefully on the unconscious woman's throat.
She watched carefully for a few moments then, satisfied that no bad reaction would occur, crossed back to the kitchen and dragged a couple of cushions across to to the stove. She reached over to the sideboard and picked up a pipe and pouch lying there, then sat herself by the stove and carefully filled the pipe. She lit it with a taper and drew on it gently; a fragrant herbal smell infused the room and a contented smile spread across her face.
She began to sing a gently meandering melody deep in her throat, and the air around her coruscated softly.
Registered Member #1273
Joined: 2:56:54 pm GMT 03/23/08
Posts: 536
Present: Beginning of the End [pt.2]
Yakiya opened her eyes, which were stinging and dry. All but one of the candles had burned out and it was dark. The stove had obviously burned low too, because the night chill was biting as she lay across her floor cushions with no blanket.
Fire on me, what happened?
She sat up, rubbing her arms to warm herself, and lit a couple more candles with a taper ignited on stove embers. Then she added a few more pieces of wood to the fire inside. She suddenly had a feeling someone was watching her, and she turned to the bed where the unconscious woman was.
But she was no longer there, and nor was her dress – though the blanket and crusted poultice cloth were. Yakiya frowned. Then came a gentle knock at the door, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
She took a deep breath and muttered to herself, blinking to clear her eyes a little as she walked to the door. She opened it warily. There stood the unconscious woman, wide awake now, dressed and cleaned, and frowning in embarrassment as she shivered in the night air. She was still barefoot. ''May I come eh, back in?'' she asked with a sheepish smile and a cut-glass Obsidian City accent.
Yakiya nodded, stepping back and opening the door wide. The woman padded in, the door closed behind her, and Yakiya motioned her towards a cushion.
The woman picked up the blanket from where she'd left it and as she wrapped it tightly around herself she kicked one cushion next to the stove and sat down heavily, sighing. She raised her hands to her face and dropped her head into them; finally, silent sobs began to shake her.
Yakiya filled a pan, put it on the stove and shifted her own cushion closer to the weeping woman. She leaned over and embraced her, eventually beginning to hum a gentle soothing tune – no aenimus, just a little song she would sometimes sing to a sick or tired child. They sat like that for some time, and slowly the woman's tears abated.
Yakiya stood and prepared a glass pot of sweet-smelling tea, poured some into a pair of wooden cups and handed one to her.
She sipped it gently, nodded in approval, sipped more, and finally spoke. ''I'm sorry – if I startled you. And thank you, for taking care of me. Your name is Mama Yakiya isn't it? I heard that while I was lying there'' She tilted her head slightly to indicate the bed. ''How long have I been here?'' Her voice was gentle and low, but scratchy from the salty water and choking.
Yakiya nodded graciously. ''My name's just Yakiya, though the people here call me Mama. You've been here less than a day, actually. Some children found you washed up on the shore and you were brought to me. You're lucky you washed up where you did – there isn't another town this close to the sea for a long way in either direction. And before you ask,'' she smiled with amusement, ''You're close to a town called Salt Marsh. Do you know where that is?''
The woman shrugged morosely and sighed. ''I don't care where it is. It's not where I'm supposed to be, so it doesn't matter where I am. Everything's gone. Everything.''
Yakiya regarded her quizzically. ''I'd say you're lucky to be alive at all. You could have washed up further south and been smashed to pieces on reefs or further north and landed in swampy quicksand. Instead of that you were found by children playing, and I happen to be the best healer for a week's travel in any direction. Nothing in this world is without purpose, so – talk to me. Why did you come back after you left so – dramatically?''
The woman looked up and smiled weakly at Yakiya.
Yakiya smiled back ''That's better. Tell me.''
The woman opened her mouth to speak but as her voice came, the word became a cough and the cough grew until it racked her. She even retched – though there was nothing to come out but a little tea. She swallowed it back, grimaced, sipped some more and took a deep breath, giving Yakiya a rueful look. ''That's why. I got outside, started walking down the road, realised I didn't know where I was – walked up onto the hill there and had a bit of a think. You looked after me and I think I want to trust you. I'm too sick to walk, I've got no money for a ride so – I had no choice but to come back. I hope it wasn't a mistake.''
Yakiya looked hurt. ''A mistake indeed! No, it was not. Yes, you can trust me! And then, can I trust you? You still haven't told me your name, young woman.'' She sounded stern and the woman smiled again.
''I see why they call you Mama. My name's Saiyali. People here call me Sai but I don't like it''
Yakiya raised a curious brow and nodded. ''Saiyali is a nice name, I can understand why you like it as it is. And where are you from, Saiyali? I assume from the mark on your neck that you belong to the Nashivaar family.''
Saiyali's hand flew to her neck and rubbed it. She looked ashamed and Yakiya sighed. ''Never mind that. Do you remember how you came to be washed up on our beach?''
Saiyali nodded. ''I was on my way – home. Oh, it's a long story!''
Yakiya shrugged, chuckling a little. ''Are you going somewhere then, Saiyali? I'm not. I'll listen, and keep hot tea coming. Would you like to smoke something? I have a few smoking herbs that would do your chest good just now.'' She smiled, and herself reached for her own pipe and began filling it.
Saiyali's eyes widened as if this was a genuinely novel offer. ''Really? Yes, I would love – something. I know how to smoke but I – I haven't done it very often. I don't know what I would choose.''
Yakiya smiled and said, ''I do.'' She got up, walked to one of her long wall curtains, drew it back and took a tied up pouch from a drawer behind it. A pipe came from another drawer, and some tapers too. While she was turned away looking, Saiyali's smile dropped and her face revealed doubt and distrust. She had no idea what to make of this woman, who even knew what her tattoo meant.
Yakiya turned back and handed the items to Saiyali, whose face retook its grateful smile just before Yakiya looked at her. ''This will relax you, and its smoke will dry and soothe your chest.'' She sat back down and relit her own pipe as Saiyali filled the small one she'd been given, and inexpertly lit it. Yakiya watched her struggle and cough with some amusement but when smoke was finally rising from both bowls and infusing the room with intoxicating sweet aromas, they both sat back for a few minutes in silence.
Finally, Saiyali began speaking, her voice almost singing now as the smoke began working its way into her mind and making her feel as if she were not sitting on a cushion by a stove in a dark room but floating somewhere far away, with an infinity of stars arrayed around her just waiting to hear what she had to say. ''I was on a ship, from Obsidian City. The Deep Rider. We sailed with the tide – that's what they said. It was a Moonday, I remember because it was a full moon as well. I chose the day because I like the full moon. I had everything with me, in a big box – ah it's all gone now–.''
She suddenly gasped and sat up, blinking. ''Oh, I remember! My Freedom Paper was in there! No!'' She burst into tears again.
Yakiya looked startled. ''Freedom Paper?'' Saiyali nodded and sniffed miserably.
''Was it a real one?'' Yakiya asked gently.
Saiyali nodded again, looking even more pained. ''It was a real one. Signed by Mama Saliki herself, all official, all legal.''
Yakiya raised a brow at the name but said nothing as Saiyali went on forlornly, ''But gone! I have to – I have to get it back – get another one! Without it, I'm dead – anyone will think I'm just an escaped slave!'' She sobbed as she went on speaking. ''It took so long. I – for years I didn't even think I could get one. I didn't think I'd ever be free–'' She paused, reflecting and shaking her head almost in disbelief. She drew on the pipe again, gently so it would stay burning, and took a few breaths of smoke, reclining quietly for a little longer this time. Tears were squeezing from between her eyelids and Yakiya sadly watched each one roll down her smooth, golden face.
Saiyali seemed lost in her own thoughts and oblivious to being watched. Uncomfortable, fearful expressions passed one by one over her face but finally she opened her eyes – Yakiya now noticed they were green – and when she began speaking again she sounded calmer and much more in control. ''I wasn't born a slave, Mama Yakiya. I was born in Marathy and I had a family – I don't even remember them any more – I—'' she hesitated, then went on,''—I got – kidnapped. I don't want to talk about that. Later, I ended up a – a slave.'' She rubbed the back of her neck again, fingering the tattoo, and spoke more softly, a dark look coming into her eyes, ''At Nashivaar, in Obsidian City. Have you ever been there?''
Yakiya looked piercingly into those strange green eyes for a long moment before answering. There was a hardness in her look and her hands clenched into fists. She was sure there was something this woman wasn't telling her, and she frowned and hesitated.
Saiyali suddenly coughed hackingly and the pain of it made her grimace and double up, groaning between the coughs that jolted her.
Yakiya took a deep breath and nodded gently. ''Yes, Saiyali. I've been to Obsidian City many, many times – I lived there myself, in my younger years. I still have – friends there, I believe. And I have been to the Nashivaar estate – though ievidently before you ever graced the place with your beauty.'' Saiyali shrugged. ''What were your duties, as a slave?'' Yakiya added.
Saiyali's nose twitched in an almost imperceptible sneer of disgust which Yakiya's own keen eyes caught, and before Saiyali could answer she nodded sympathetically and broke in, ''No, you don't have to say. I know what a beautiful one like you would be for.''
Saiyali nodded. ''Yes. I was there for Baba's and Mama's pleasure. I dance, I know a lot of dances and – well, yes. Not just dances – you know. I was their – one of their Body Girls.''
She frowned and Yakiya was surprised by the sudden depth of the sombre glimmer in her eyes as she went on angrily, ''Curse them! They didn't see a person. They called me beautiful, but they only saw a decoration, a pet! They never saw me!'' She beat her breastbone with three loud thuds, sighed heavily and went on. ''Anyway – I was the best. At all of it. Especially dancing – I love dancing–'' Her face lit up as she said the words. ''And that's something I remember from – before. Before I got, you know, kidnapped. I danced – I was – I was a Sun Dancer! Do you know what I mean?'' She suddenly realised she was assuming Yakiya knew about Marathy, something that actually very few people in the Empire did or cared to. She felt a rush of foolishness.
Yakiya nodded though, and her eyes showed she was truly interested. ''I'm aware of some Marathy customs. I find them fascinating and yet – I feel sorry for them.''
Saiyali shrugged. ''It – I don't think it makes sense unless you – I don't know. Maybe you have to feel it. I don't think I remember any more, I can't explain it. Maybe I could once, but now I don't know.''
She frowned and went on, ''But I can't get another ship without a Freedom Paper. I can't get an outlaw ship because I don't know any outlaws and anyway I haven't got anything valuable. Well, I've got myself but I'm not selling myself! Never! Never again!'' She paused, shaking her head hopelessly and relighting the pipe – a little more confidently this time. She inhaled a breath, blew it out, inhaled another and held it in till she coughed it out. Finally she nodded and smiled, ''This is helping my chest – thank you! Again—''
Yakiya just nodded. Saiyali went on speaking slowly, her voice becoming softer again, abstracted, distant. ''It was dead dark from the clouds, the crew were all shouting – they were scared, they took down every sail. It was evening when the storm hit, it blew all night, into next morning. We got blown – I don't know, backwards, sideways, upside-down, wherever. I was so sick, sick sick.'' she shuddered. ''It was horrible. Seemed like it had to be over soon, but then – then the real storm hit. The ship got smashed, again and again – then the main mast came down. I got in a lifeboat and hung on. The lifeboat got crushed by another mast, I grabbed it, tied myself on. After that I only remember flashes, riding up and down huge waves in the dark. Must have passed out, I only remember water, water, wind, and darkness.''
She gazed at Yakiya and added, ''I think I thought I was dead. But then I heard your voice—'' She tailed off dramatically and silence fell, broken only by occasional cracks and pings from inside the stove. Yakiya allowed the it to last, sure that Saiyali hadn't finished. She was right. After some time, Saiyali continued as if she hadn't paused, ''—there was a girl's voice as well.''
Yakiya nodded. ''Jiilin, a good child, from the town. She and her brother found you, and she was the one who cleared the water and sickness from your chest.''
Saiyali smiled kindly and looked at Yakiya frankly. ''Please thank her for me.''
Yakiya looked puzzled. ''But she'll be here in the morning, you'll have a chance to thank her yourself.''
Saiyali shook her head, the intrusion of future plans re-focusing her mind uncomfortably. ''No, no – I must be gone by then. I must. I've lost everything – everything! Even my freedom paper! If wardens find me I'll be in bad trouble. They'll think I'm escaped, they could just execute me! Nashivaar is a long way, they won't wait days to check.'' She was frowning, troubled and scared.
Yakiya shook her head. ''Listen, no wardens will come for you here, stay as long as you wish.''
Saiyali smiled and bowed her head slightly, appearing genuinely upset. ''Mama – Mama Yakiya – I can't. What can I do here? I need to get back to the city as quickly as I can and speak to Mama Saliki, get her to re-make my freedom paper. Till I have it again, I'm as good as dead. Look at me – who'll believe I'm free if I can't prove I am? Even if I dress nicely, this mark is a giveaway! Someone will make me show papers and – I can't!'' She paused, her mind racing too fast to go on talking. Then she shook her head again. ''No – even if I stay here, in the end wardens will come! I can't just hide, and anyway I don't want to! I have to get my paper. Better sooner than later''
Yakiya looked thoughtful, examining Saiyali carefully and seriously. She knew what she said next might cause more problems than it solved, even for Saiyali – let alone for herself. She liked the girl – and at Yakiya's age everyone was a girl or a boy – but am I prepared to open that account again? Helping her is the right thing – but there's more to this girl than she's showing, I'm sure of that. Finally she smiled decisively. ''I mentioned I have friends in Obsidian City. Let's call them – associates. I've not seen them in a long time, but I can send a message and it's possible someone might make a journey out here, to escort you back safe.''
Saiyali tilted her head to look a little sidelong at Yakiya, as if she wasn't quite sure what she had in mind. ''I can't just ride in on a cart. I'll be arrested! Though I guess at the City gate they might bother to contact Nashvaar to ask who I am. I don't really want to risk it though!'' Her reluctance showed on her screwed-up face.
Yakiya shook her head, however. ''Saiyali, I can probably arrange for you to get inside the city unnoticed. It's quite easy, if you know the right people – and I do. At least, I did. So I hope I do. They can easily get you into the city unseen – let me send my message, see what comes back. It can't hurt to find out if my friends are still – friendly.'' She smiled, and Saiyali smiled back, relieved and grateful.
''Mama Yakiya, if you promise me I can trust you, then I will.'' Then she sighed, ''Still, what choice do I have, actually?''
Yakiya looked serious. ''Saiyali, arranging this for you is probably more of a risk to me than it is to you; you certainly can trust me, and I don't know why but I feel I should trust you. So I will. Stay with me here, and we'll await a reply together. How does that sound?''
Saiyali nodded, slowly at first, but with more enthusiasm as the reality of what was being offered slowly dawned on her. ''Mama Yakiya, I'll stay with you. I admit I've no choice – but anyway I have everything to thank you for, and whether your message brings help or trouble, I'll meet it with you here. You've saved my life, I have to trust you.''
Registered Member #1273
Joined: 2:56:54 pm GMT 03/23/08
Posts: 536
[A Page in the Sand]
Introduction
Travelling around our wonderful Empire is one of the greatest joys anyone can experience in their life. From the High Desert in the far north, to the Skeleton Coast at the southern edges; from the Hamale that tower over the delights of Gold City in the mysterious and ancient east, to the spectacular Broken Harbour at the centre of magnificent Obsidian City in the vibrant west; there are no end of inspiring prospects, breathtaking views and fascinating locales to explore and experience.
The ancient stories of our distant ancestors and the artefacts and structures they left us are but part of the enthralling totality of what you may find as you travel the highways, byways and waterways of our proud and beautiful Empire. Our modern world, our additions and modifications to what we inherited through so many generations, are all just as awesome and exhilarating as anything left over from antiquity. You will find plenty to challenge and hearten you as you discover not only how deep the cultures of these lands are, but how excitingly they continue to develop.
The Empire is, as we know, 2,280 years old. The original country – the precursor to the Empire as we might say – was called Malakalam. It was the Malakalam system of Counsels and personal representation that eventually became the system of shared power which runs our Empire today. The land of Malakalam appears to have extended along the river Tzomzi and to have been ruled alternately from two main capitals – one which was near the current site of Holy City, and was called Lamka – and another close to where Gold City (then called Mala) sits, at the wide, muddy mouth of the Tzomzi River. The original site of Lamka is well-preserved and open to visitors all year round; the original site of Mala is buried somewhere deep in the mud of the ever-moving Tzomzi estuary.
The language you will hear everywhere is referred to as simply Talk, as all civilized people speak it in more or less the same way and have done for as long as anyone remembers. It's the evolved consequence of hundreds of generations of unbroken, stable Empire. It was originally the dialect spoken by the people of Malakalam, of which few records remain, but it appears to have been called Sim, or perhaps Lalam. It was spread by trade, and it mixed with a few other languages and dialects and over many generations became the homogenized Talk we know today.
One of the other important ancient nations that became part of the empire was Tuuria, ruled by the merchant families of the cities of the Bay of Jewels. The Cities of the Bay are all built on or near sites of prehistoric settlements. The best-preserved by far is in Jade City, which was once a holy place forbidden to all but the Tuurian priestly caste. Many ancient ruins may be visited both in and around Jade City, and rumours always abound of yet older and deeper settlements dug into the mountains behind the city. The other Bay Cities are not so exotic, but the culture of ancient Tuuria is very much alive in the games and sports events which abound throughout the busy social calendar of the Bay of Jewels. Sailing enthusiasts will want to visit during high summer, as the Bay Sail is considered the water racing highlight of the year.
The wide flat valley along which the River Tzomzi flows from Holy City to Gold City has been known as The Breadlands for as long as any books recall, and it was always the location for wars of expansion, till the Great Peace was agreed that laid the first foundations for the Empire. Nowadays it is an extremely productive agricultural area, which because of its soft and humid climate, produces many of the more exotic foodstuffs you'll find on your travels.
The North-west was once a land named Swaane, and its ancient capital is mostly still intact, as modern-day Obsidian City. Swaane was fantastically wealthy, and ruled by Chosen Emperors and Empresses in a system similar to today's. Its wealth came from its many mines in the hills of the Low Desert, and farms made possible by its famous network of irrigation canals which were constructed over many centuries of growth and prosperity. Swaane was, unsurprisingly, the most powerful of all the nations now bound in the Empire, and foundation of such a mutually-beneficial federation would have been impossible without the catastrophic earthquake that caused what is now called the Great Fall. A quarter of the city fell into the sea in a single night, and Obsidian City's pre-eminence was destroyed. See the separate entries on Obsidian City, the Broken Harbour and Great Fall for more information.
The Far north of the Empire is still inhabited mainly by nomadic tribes who travel far into the High Desert every year. Rumour has it that they sustain themselves on food they grow in their hidden oasis pastures – as well as treasures they discover in the sands. Few explorers of the High Desert are ever heard of again and it is assumed the dangers there are simply too great for anyone not familiar with the place. See the entry on the High Desert for our official guidelines.
Wherever you go and whatever you do, you will be eating and drinking, so take some time to peruse our reviews and recommendations, city by city. We only include establishments that have been vetted and verified by trusted Pocket Guide partners so you can be absolutely certain that anything chosen from our Guide will be both delicious and safe, and in most cases the best value you're likely
Registered Member #1273
Joined: 2:56:54 pm GMT 03/23/08
Posts: 536
[Advisory: contains a painful and bloody birthing]
Past: Unremembered [pt.1]
In a clearing among tall trees, light flickered. One source illuminating rough bark and overhanging leaves was the warm yellow glow of a large fire, and over the fire hung a round black glass pot full of boiling water. Steam from the pot rose up with the fire's smoke; the whole column of rising vapours was made aromatic by bunches of herbs smoking at intervals around the circular hearth pit, raised off the ground on a wide circle of flat stones.
The other light emanated in bursts from a woman who was giving birth. Woven rugs were spread across the middle of the small clearing, and to one side stood a low table holding a pile of soft white cloths, a few cups, bowls, and several glass bottles and jars. From the trunks of the nearest trees hung ragged white sheets that created a curtain around the clearing, and to one side stood a large wooden water barrel. A narrow track ran from the clearing and curved through the trees towards a larger glade, where red canvas tents surrounded a steep-roofed wooden building three floors high.
In the smaller clearing the sheets hanging from the trees undulated and fluttered gently as the rising column of heat from the fire pulled in fresh, cool air from the surrounding forest. The woman, naked and on all fours, screamed with her head thrown back. Her dark golden skin was was slick with her own sweat and there was blood all over the rug she was kneeling on.
An earthy, scorched sweetness lingered in all around – not from the fire's bitter smoke, but something heavier and more pungent. The air was saturated not so much with any particular smell or taste, but with density; with intensity. It felt slick and seemed to flow and swirl; not like the air rushing in under the trees which was centred on the fire – it was more like something moving against the convection and between the molecules. It centred on the woman and from time to time she or the air around her pulsed or flashed with slow splashes of colour. Yellows, reds and all manner of pinks and oranges came and went, with occasional flashes of pure white. Threading through the diffuse glow in wisps ran threads of something darker which appeared as breaks between the blooms of light, or the shimmer of a heat haze.
The woman bowed her head, breathing deeply in through her mouth and out through her nose, forcing herself to relax. Her belly bowed down as her will to let it relax overcame the contraction, and shapes inside her squirmed. She grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut. A flash of white pulsed out from her and faded quickly to red.
She sobbed, ''I can't take any more! Please stop!'' She glared down at her belly and forced herself to straighten up so she could stroke and caress the babies convulsing inside her. Tears flowed down her cheeks and she looked imploringly at the irregular bump of flexing arms and legs.
''What are you doing to me? What's the matter?'' But she'd hardly got the words out when she doubled over once more with a scream, and the clearing filled again with white light flaring uncontrollably. Darkness flowed down her thighs. Some of it was blood that soaked immediately into the already-sodden rug around her knees, but much of it spread across the top of the bloody surface, less substantial and more black than red. It faded like dispersing smoke across the ground.
Two other women were watching and occasionally also exchanging worried frowns, and the older of the two moved to the table and picked out one of the glass bottles. She took a cloth and dipped it in the pot of water over the fire, then opened the small bottle and poured a few drops of dark liquid onto the wet steaming cloth. She squeezed the cloth a moment, unfolded it and went across to the naked, panting, groaning woman, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
''Sayinlei, I'm going to put something on you to help calm them. Try just to breathe easy.''
Sayinlei nodded as best she could, and squeezed her eyes closed in concentration, imagining her breath as a wave of calming warmth flooding through her from the inside out. The midwife placed the warm damp cloth gently between Sayinlei's thighs, where a thin flow of dark blood continued to trickle from inside her racked belly. Sayinlei took a sudden deep breath and there was a flurry of movement from inside her. She yelped and bit her lip, bearing down onto the warm cloth in the midwife's hand, and the babies' movement weakened in her as they went limp. Sayinlei allowed herself to relax too, allowing her head to come down to the rug between her outstretched, clenching hands.
The women looked at each other again, hopelessness evident on both their faces. Sayinlei growled softly from exhaustion and pain. ''They're going to kill me! I can't con—'' she grimaced at another contraction, though it was shorter and less intense than they had been. ''I can't control anything, each time I try to hold on to the energy it just – slips away. It's all just wrong—'' She gasped, and took a few deep breaths as another contraction passed. She looked at one of the women sharply in the eyes and they could see she was very present and focused despite the pain. She went on, ''It's not just that there are two of them – something else is happening. It feels like they're fighting! And they're fighting me too – not letting me concentr—'' She broke off again, breathing deeply in and out several times with her eyes clenched shut.
The elder of the two midwives nodded sharply to the other, ''Zikya, go and fetch anyone you can find from the Hall! Quickly now!''
Zikya nodded and hurried off as the elder woman rinsed the cloth in her hand and dripped more medicine onto it, and replaced it on Sayinlei, who gasped again but looked grateful. Sayinlei tried to concentrate on her breathing and push as best she could with each contraction, but she was so bruised now; each time her body convulsed she felt she might just turn inside out. Also, the burning from whatever it was the two babies in her womb were doing got worse when she pushed through the contractions. She looked down at the blood between her knees and for the first time noticed the shadowy wisps infusing it. She frowned, then nodded in sad realisation; tears were streaming down each cheek, but she had no energy to sob.
Zikya emerged between the sheets across the path from the Birth Hall, and held them back politely for the people following her to pass through. There were four others – three women and a man. Each of them nodded respectfully to the elder midwife before scooping water from the steaming pot and washing their hands. Sayinlei tried her best to smile but the effort was too much and she gave up as another contraction squeezed her through and through. When it had passed, the midwife with her hands on Sayinlei stroked her hair and assured gently, ''It's all going to be fine! You're all going to be fine!'' She smiled encouragingly.
Sayinlei nodded and knelt up a little, taking the pad from her and answering weakly, ''Mama, as long as the babies are fine, I'll be. Just make sure—'' but was cut off by a spasm. The Mama gestured to the others and they surrounded Sayinlei with practised speed. Zikya took a blue bottle from the table, dripped some brown liquid from it onto her hand and gently massaged the stuff into Sayinlei's distended and gently squirming belly. As she did so, the dark smears began to shimmer slightly, and the others who were standing around her close enough to hold hands, took up voicing a set of harmonizing notes. Zikya also joined in when she had cleaned the liquid from her hand by smearing the last of it across Sayinlei's back and hips carefully.
They were close enough to hold hands, but they didn't; instead each of the six placed their hands gently on Sayinlei's torso as they hummed their notes, and the glowing liquid on her skin began to pulsate. Between their hands and all over Sayinlei's belly, aenimus glowed and glimmered around and through her. Her whole body visibly relaxed as the six healers took most of the pressure off her muscles by using the aenimus they were holding to cradle the babies inside her and stop them from punching, kicking and pulling so viciously. There came another contraction, and it was clearly still painful, but as the six midwives took most of the strain, Sayinlei managed to breathe herself through it.
It took a few more hours of intense concentration from all of them, their chant continuing through repeated and varying cycles and Sayinlei pushing as best she could. She opened gradually and painfully and with the help of the aenimus cradle formed by the midwives, who occasionally applied salves on her belly and between her thighs that relaxed both her and the babies, and softened and soothed her muscles. There was a lot of blood, and as the babies came lower and began to emerge it turned far darker than red from the aenimus it carried with it.
The first baby which emerged was twisted and blue, and quite dead. The second came seconds later and was very much alive, screaming and bursting with scattered flashes of overflowing aenimus in both light and shadow. Sayinlei collapsed onto her back, both umbilical cords trailing from her. The midwives gently handed her both the babies and she lay back with the dead one high on her chest and the squirming, squealing, living one on her belly. It was a girl; she reached for her mother's breast and pulled herself up firmly, clamping her yelling mouth onto the nipple and falling instantly asleep. Sayinlei looked blissfully down and stroked her. It took all her strength to move her arm, but as her hand found the baby's head and rested there, the flashes fell to a shimmer and the baby snorted happily as it drank from her.
The other was also a girl, but had evidently been strangled with her own umbilical cord during the titanic struggle inside. Sayinlei closed her eyes and kissed the tiny limp creature, whispering, ''I'm sorry. She was too strong for you – so strong – I'm sorry – so strong—'' but as she repeated her words and they became fainter and weaker, it wasn't clear which of the babies was speaking to.
Slowly she herself fell asleep as the midwives cleaned up around her, and after a while both the placentas also dropped from her onto the rug. The midwives wrapped the surviving baby up with her placenta in a long white cotton cloth and handed the bundle to Sayinlei, believing she would wake enough to hold it.
But Sayinlei was dead; the birth had finally been too much for her. Nobody had noticed her stop breathing, but the smile frozen on her exhausted and smeared face told that she died in delight and love.
The surviving girl was named after her – though in the local dialect the name became Saiyali. Saiyali kept a small wooden figure which her father carved for her, that was a likeness of Sayinlei – and whenever she played and practised with aenimus as she got older she wondered what her mother would have thought, and hoped she would be proud.
Registered Member #1273
Joined: 2:56:54 pm GMT 03/23/08
Posts: 536
Past: Unremembered [pt.2, 3, 4]
''Saiyali! Saiyali? Where are you?'' A handsome man in his thirties with short hair and rough green canvas overalls stood at the top of a flight of wooden steps that led to the front door of tall, steep-roofed wooden house. Below him in the wide garden several plots grew vegetables and fruits, and to one side were a couple of low animal huts.
''Here Baba!'' A pretty, skinny young girl with long tumbling dark hair ran around from the side of the house and up the wooden steps to the door her father was holding open for her. She wore a simple tunic of cotton and her hair was tied back with a ribbon, but not tied up; its curls hung down her back.
As she passed, he grabbed her head and kissed her noisily on the temple. She grinned at him and her green eyes shimmered a little. He laughed and winked. ''Just like your ma'. Be careful of doing that around Yoreini though sweetie – you know she hates it. Keep it for the dances, hmm?''
Saiyali shrugged petulantly and stopped just inside the doorway. She regarded her father accusingly. ''Why do you stay with her, Baba? I don't like her!''
He looked back at her and raised an imperious brow. ''Saiya, we've talked about this. Yoreini makes me happy, and that's why I stay with her. I know she's sometimes a bit strict on you but you know you're not always quite so lovely to her! You're like your mother in so many ways, and Yoreini feels – threatened. It's natural. It's up to you to be nice to her – you're stronger than she is. Use that strength – be gentle; be kind. It's harder to be kind to someone who hates you, than it is to be kind to a friend!''
Saiyali frowned. ''But why, Baba? Why do I need to be nice to her? She's never nice to me! Why can't you find someone else?''
He shook his head. ''Saiya – you're not being reasonable. I love Yoreini—'' he sighed at her scowl, ''I do – and it's not fair of you to spoil that. And we have Walim too – think about him. What's he going to do if I leave him and his ma'?''
Saiyali scowled again and shrugged. ''I know. But agh! Baba – I hate her! She's always spoiling my concentration on purpose and she stops me practising and says she doesn't like hearing me singing in the house! What am I meant to do? It's so far to Community Hall, I can't go every day! And you won't let me live with great Ma'Indraya when even she says I can!''
Her father shook his head. ''No, you're right – and for now, things with your great ma' can stay the same. You can visit her any time, you know you can - and you already stay there for your days each month. I think that's enough for both of you, but I'll speak to Yoreini again about your dancing in the garden. And about the singing – how about this?'' He grinned, ''Tomorrow we start working on a tree house for you – that way, you sing and even sleep in your own space away from Yoreini and you won't annoy each other.''
Saiyali thought it over. ''Alright then – if I can help!'' and her sudden grin made them both laugh.
* * *
Saiyali came slamming through the door and screamed. ''Yoreini! He's fallen! He fell! Get a healer! Come quick!'' and slammed back out again.
A few minutes later and a small knot of people were gathered around Saiyali and Yoreini, as they stood over the still form of Saiyali's father, Induye. His head was twisted too far around and there was a wide dark mark across his left cheek and the side of his head. Blood trickled out of one corner of his mouth but he wasn't breathing, and he lay still. The healer shook his head despondently.
''He's beyond anything I can do. Sorry. I'll – I'll go and tell his mother. She'll want to know. Saiyali – Yoreini – I'm so sorry. Where's Walim?''
Yoreini spoke as if in a trance. ''He's with her – with Indraya – go and see them both. I'll – when we've – bring him indoors – wash him. Tell them not – not to come here till – till then—''
Her focus appeared to drift and to take her voice with it. She stared at her dead man for a few moments as the healer backed away a little, noticing the darkening of her eyes, and feeling a strong wish to tell Induye's mother and son what had happened as soon as possible. He trotted away, frowning and trying to work out how to begin.
Saiyali collapsed to her knees, sobbing. Her sobs began like any but as they got deeper and longer, and tears appeared to be pouring down her face and over her hands and into her thick, knotted black hair, each sob was accompanied by a pulse of light followed immediately by a briefer flash of darkness. She was mumbling something unintelligible, wisps of shadow and light began reaching out from her for Induye's face, but all of a sudden Yoreini's eyes flashed and she glared at the sobbing girl.
''You – monster! You poisonous little witch! You did this! You made this!'' she screamed, and began hitting out and slapping Saiyali at random but again, and again, and again, her own long black hair flying about her and her dark eyes flashing darker in her anger.
Saiyali just shook her head and sobbed, ''No! No! He fell! It wasn't me!''
''Yes it was! You're always provoking him and upsetting him, reminding him of your mother – who you killed! And now your father too! Both the people who loved you most in this world are gone because of you! I hope you're proud!—''
By this point the two neighbours who had run over at Sayiali's first screams were pulling Yoreini off the girl and dragging her away as she kept screaming, ''You killed him! You killed him!'' while Saiyali kept sobbing, ''He fell! It wasn't me!''
She stayed there, alone; nobody came back and she didn't even notice. She felt herself growing colder with him, she wanted to die or even just to disappear. She tried to remember exactly what had happened. He'd been annoyed with her, it was true. He'd been yelling at her to be careful – but he'd fallen as he moved towards her. Just – missed his step and fallen between the branch and the boards they'd been fixing on it to make a floor.
He didn't even seem to realise he was falling – she remembered his quiet curse as his foot slipped, and then no scream or cry. He had slipped down, his head had hit a branch at a strange angle. It cracked like the sound of an eggshell, he hit the ground limp and still. By the time she in her shock had scrambled down, he wasn't breathing.
She tried to find the moment in what had happened where she might have done something different. Maybe if I'd been closer – if I hadn't swung like I did – if I'd smiled at him so he didn't come over to me – and the treehouse is for me – if I hadn't asked him to – it'll never–. Baba–.
Baba is dead.
She wailed, and held her father's body close, pleading with him to come back, pleading with his aenimus to take from her, desperately trying to fill his body with her own. Her grief and anger and despair and love were flowing around her limbs, head and torso in barely-visible spirals of light and shadow. The energy passed through Induye's broken body but he was gone, the aenimus flowing made his hands and feet quiver and his eyelids flicker – but there was no person, no will, no aenimus except for what Saiyali herself was quickening. It took her a long time to stop, and only when she simply collapsed from exhaustion.
Nobody dared approach till her explosion of aenimus faded, and she fell asleep across Induye's stubbornly lifeless body. Then, she was put onto on a low cart, covered with a blanket and taken to her grandmother's house, where she was put into bed. A healer sat with her, singing and stroking her head occasionally to calm her dreams and keep her sleeping.
Others took Induye into his house, where Yoreini and a couple of others undressed him, washed and re-dressed him in some of his favourite clothes, and then sat with him. The whole process was performed in silence, and other friends and family members who had heard the news started to arrive, and took places silently to begin their watch. Eventually, every chair was taken and Yoreini had begun to fidget and bite at her nails.
When another cousin of Induye's arrived, Yoreini immediately gave up her place in the Watch and although a couple of people frowned at this, nobody said anything and Yoreini sat on the floor under a window and watched as the circle went on.
A sad, discordant song gradually began from nothing more than breathing; breaths were pushed harder and became audible. Then each person began vocalising breaths and together these voicings became a song – without seeming to start at any point, the song was simply there.
A circle of aenimus grew between, around and through each person in the circle and they held and comforted each other this way, deeper than any physical embrace might do; at a visceral level, a level of instinct and emotion – where you simply know something is true, or that it isn't – and they remembered together that as always, there is life and we are that life; and no matter who dies and how we grieve we must still – be.
The circle sat all night and well into the following day. People came and went but the circle remained constant and intact, and a lot of people were comforted by being part of it for a while.
Yoreini sat apart the whole time. A few people tried to comfort her but she didn't respond to their gentle words and if anybody tried to touch her she pushed them absently away.
In the morning, when the watch was over, the children had still not come.
* * *
When they did arrive later, Yoreini was alone in the house. She was lying on her back on one of her thick wool-sacks to one side of the stove in the main room. Induye's body still lay on the table, a candle burning above his head and below his feet.
When the front door squeaked open and Saiyali came in with Walim holding her hand, Yoreini looked up listlessly, sighed and lay back down. The children came inside, and their grandmother followed, pushing them before her as they were obviously reluctant. She herself was dressed in warm green clothes and had her hair tied up in a long green headscarf. Her large, yellow eyes were full of sadness and there was no smile on her shapely golden face. Her brow, already creased from age, was all the more so today from grief.
She took a deep breath before her half-broken voice could manage to speak. ''I brought them home, Yoreini. How are you?''
Yoreini didn't look up at all, and answered to the ceiling, ''How do you think I am, Indraya? My man's dead, and my children weren't here to watch with his family. You can go – and you needn't come back.'' She didn't sound angry – only tired.
Indraya gazed across the room at Yoreini for a moment and a frown crossed her brow. She dropped her head to look at Walim and Saiyali, and they just appeared exhausted. Walim's six-year-old face was puffy from where he'd been crying, and Saiyali had a worrying darkness in her eyes. She hesitated before speaking. ''Yoreini, I lost my son today – just like you lost your man. These two lost their father. If you haven't got any gentleness in yourself for me, at least have some for the little ones?'' She seemed more sad than angry as she spoke.
Yoreini still didn't move, and continued speaking straight up into the air above her face. ''Indraya, please go. I don't need you telling me how I should behave right now. If you were so bothered about losing your son, and the children's losing their father, you should have made sure you were all here to Watch with us. Just go – I'm upset enough as it is and I don't want to feel worse.''
Indraya shook her head and sucked her teeth in annoyance. ''Feel worse? I'm your man's mother, and these are your man's children. We are the best people for you to see right now. I didn't bring them to watch because they were too upset, and I know how angry you get with Saiyali sometimes. Walim didn't want to leave her, and she was scared to come, so I looked after them both. We held our own circle for Induye.''
Her voice wavered, and she wiped a tear from her cheek. ''Yoreini, come – let's make a circle now, the four of us. For the memory of Induye, because we all loved him. If we can't be at peace together now, then – when? You've been sitting alone, not let anybody near, or in. It's so sad, Yoreini–.'' she was almost pleading by now, and Walim was starting to cry as well.
Saiyali simply stared at the floor, her eyes still dark.
Yoreini suddenly exploded in anger and sat up, her eyes also darkening and a shadow seeming to gather around her though the afternoon sun was brightly shining through the window.
''Shut up! Shut up! Get out of my head! Don't you understand? I hate it! I hate that – people can feel me, and I can feel them. It's horrible! I loved Induye because he never tried any of that stuff—'' Saiyali rolled her eyes and Yoreini stopped speaking and glared at her.
Indraya sighed. ''Very well, Yoreini. I know some people don't like it. I didn't know you had that problem—''
Now it was Yoreini's turn to snort derisively. ''Pfft, problem? Ha! The problem is people like you who think what goes on in someone else's head is your business! It's not! This whole – place – is – mad! All my life I've just wanted people to leave me alone, keep out of my mind. Induye did! He loved me and let me be!'' She was crying now, tears pouring down her grief-stricken face. ''And now he's gone—''
Saiyali's whole body flashed darkly and she broke in over Yoreini's sobs, snarling, ''Why don't you sell yourself and go and live in the Empire then? They don't do it there, and we don't need you anyway! Everyone can be happy!''
Yoreini stepped up off the wool sack and raised her hand as if to hit Saiyali, who didn't flinch – but Walim did, and at the same time stared at Saiyali, wide-eyed and hurt by her harshness.
When Yoreini saw the look in his eyes she hesitated and sat back down, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands and wiping the tears from her cheeks again. She held her arms out for Walim, who ran to her and buried his face in her; she held him in silence and rocked with him.
Saiyali continued looking thunderously at the floor, and Indraya shrugged and touched her on the shoulder, gesturing that they should leave. Saiyali nodded and with one doleful look at Yoreini, turned to follow her grandmother.
Registered Member #1273
Joined: 2:56:54 pm GMT 03/23/08
Posts: 536
Past: Unremembered [pt. 5]
The afternoon was warm and muggy and squalls had been passing over since dawn. The sky was covered in thick dull clouds and the heaviness of the air made it feel later than it was and a little too dark. The wind was gusting and the first yellow leaves of autumn were beginning blow from the trees, drifting and twisting through the late afternoon's overcast grey.
The trees stood over and around a small knot of wooden Marathy houses with tall, steep roofs. Between the houses were a number of smaller structures – sheds, hives, kennels, coops. Fences separated plots, and a dirt road with patches of worn-in gravel and wood chips ran across the whole clearing.
Leaves swirled between the houses, landing on outhouses and all over the ground. Not on the main buildings though – the steep roofs made sure nothing could stay stuck there too long. A scattering of leaves lay strewn across a lawn of unkempt grass that spread out in front of one of the houses, one with yellow window frames around its glass windows and a long narrow porch along its front side. The wooden fence around the plot was also yellow, and over the gate clung climbing flowers which smelled sweet to those who passed beneath.
As she passed through, Saiyali closed her eyes. She always had mixed feelings when she arrived here. Though she still hated coming here because of the chance she might meet Yoreini, she still loved to see the place that reminded her so keenly of her father; the flower gate was one of those things. The yellow fence had been his yearly project and Saiyali was secretly happy that Yoreini still kept it looking as he'd liked it.
Her father had told Saiyali a few times that the gate was as old as she was and that these flowers were her mother's favourite flowers. As the years passed, Saiyali found herself imagining they were like brothers and sisters that Yoreini didn't know about, who guarded Walim at the gate of his yard. Nearly four years it had been since she left and each time she visited they still seemed to smile back happily.
As she crossed the yard and approached the door she listened intently for Yoreini's voice, and when she reached the door itself she paused, opened it just a crack, listened then sniffed, then listened again. Finally, she opened it all the way and called out brightly, ''Hello! Miserable day outside! Where's my favourite brother?''
Walim looked up from where he was lying with a book on a woolsack by the stove, and grinned. ''Hello sis! How are you?'' He put the book down and got up to embrace her. As they hugged, tendrils of light briefly rose from them, then fading quickly after they separated.
''What are you reading?'' Saiyali said, sitting herself on the sack and peering over at the book.
Walim shrugged ''It's a book of old stories I borrowed from the Reading Hall. It's got to be back the day after tomorrow so I'm trying to finish it.'' He had his mother's dark eyes, his father's wiry, curly hair, and his own ten-year-old precociousness.
''Old stories?'' She frowned in surprise and opened it. ''Are they good?''
Walim nodded. ''They're great! They're kind of stories from before there was an Empire. Heroes and villains and kind of – fables, and bits of history. It's interesting anyway. Exciting. Nothing exciting happens here so I have to read it in books.'' He shrugged.
Saiyali frowned again and snapped the book shut. ''Nothing exciting happens here! What? What about the dedications and ceremonies? They're fantastic!''
Walim rolled his eyes and threw himself back onto the wool sack. ''Oh come on Saiya – you like that, I don't care about it! I want to go to Stoneport and study! They have music there that's just for fun, you know? Dancing that's just for fun! Here everyone's so serious about it all the time–.''
Saiyali shook her head and closed her eyes dismissively. ''Well look – whatever. In a few years you can go and study where you want, right? Great ma'Indraya already says I can!'' she winked.
Walim shrugged, ''I will if Mama says I can – I think she wants to go away too – but like you say, it won't be for years. Even if it happens at all!''
Saiyali frowned at him for a moment. ''Are you still happy here, Walim? Ever think about coming to live with me and Great ma' instead?''
Walim's eyes flicked to her accusingly and he frowned. ''Why do you keep saying that, Saiya? I love Mama, I don't want to leave her alone!'' His frown wavered and his face fell dejectedly. He sighed. ''Look, I don't know. I don't really like it here but what can I do? She won't let me go and live with you. I wish I could come and stay more but when I do she's horrible to me for days and she just watches me, and makes me sit by her for ages. All I can do is read, really – you know what she's like about music and anything about aenimus.''
He looked at her and smiled darkly. ''You'd have been so annoyed last week. I wanted to make a shelf for books. Baba's tools are all rusty so I cleaned some and made a mess out there in the work shed, and she went mad. She said I was disrespecting Baba by playing around with his tools, and she said I can't use them again.'' Saiyali was shaking her head, but Walim saw her and went on, ''I don't know, maybe it is wrong. I thought he'd like me to use them but Mama said she wants them left alone–'' He laughed but frowned, too confused to continue.
Saiyali was still shaking her head. ''Walim – you're right! Baba would have wanted you to use that stuff. He used those all the time, they were like his favourite toys! He made all kinds of things – he even made this house – it's Yor— ''
Walim glared sharply and she stopped, beginning again gently, ''It's your Mama who's wrong, not you. You're right.''
A moment of silence descended, till Walim asked, dejected, ''So what am I meant to do, Saiya? How can I keep Mama happy?''
Saiyali shook her head and finally said the only thing she could think of. ''I don't think you can, Walim. I don't know if anyone can now Baba's gone.'' She looked about, suddenly, finally curious. ''Where is she, anyway? At market?''
Walim shrugged. ''I guess so. I don't know where else she goes than there – maybe sometimes to see Mama Bekelah but she always says if she's going there–''
His voice faded doubtfully but Saiyali cut in straight away. ''Come, now! Come on – while she's out. Come to Indraya's!'' She stood up, pulling him to follow her.
He pulled his hand from hers and shook his head. ''Saiya, not now. Let me think about it some more. Please?'' He was pleading, and Saiyali stamped an impatient foot on the floor, so hard it disturbed dust around her foot.
''Not now – not today? Not today then when?'' This last word came forcefully and a pulse of light and briefer flash of dark flew from her in every direction. Walim felt it, the birds on the roof felt it, the animals in the yard even felt it – and out front as she closed the gate behind her, Yoreini felt it too.
Confused, she frowned for a moment before she absolutely knew what and who it was, and began storming towards the house, her own eyes shadowing visibly. But as she got closer to the steps up to the door, she heard Saiyali's voice and almost instinctively stopped to listen.
''—doesn't even let you do what you want to, even what Baba would want you to do! I know you love reading and studying, right – but I know you love other things too. Can you do them? Do you think you can do anything she doesn't like? How are you going to find out who you really are when there's someone who keeps telling you you can't do this and you mustn't do that—''
Outside the house, Yoreini was now creeping up the steps to the porch. She took a seat on one of the wooden chairs, where the raised voices from indoors could be heard quite clearly.
Walim interrupted, saying ''You keep criticizing her but what's your answer, Saiya? Leave! Always the same thing! But Mama needs me – you don't! Mama does—''
Saiyali's growl was rising and finally she broke into annoyed speech over Walim's voice. ''Mama Mama Mama – look, you can obviously see her any time – it's just a matter of having another place to go to, where people don't always boss you around and where you can have space by yourself and do whatever you're interested in doing. You know what great ma'Indraya's house is like! There's always people coming and going, and there are the treehouses. You've always loved it there. It's safe there. It's interesting there. It's relaxing there. And you can visit your Mama as much as you want – of course!''
A long silence followed, and Yoreini began to think about what she was going to say when she walked in – but then Walim's voice spoke again. ''Fine, Saiya, what if I did want to come and live there. Just suppose! What would I need to do?''
Yoreini frowned, and her whole body seemed to darken for a moment till she shook her head to clear the fog of her emotions. Saiyali was already speaking when Yoreini finally managed to focus through her flash of anger and hurt.
''…to the Records Rooms and sign the paper that says you want to live at Indraya's. She'd have to sign too, then someone at the Hall as a witness, and it's done. It's easy! And nothing says you can't visit your Mama – it's just that you'll have a right to come and go, with a safe place to be when your Mama's – difficult. See?''
Inside the house, Walim was nodding.
''Maybe,'' he said. ''But let me think about it till – till tomorrow? Can I?''
Saiyali was rolling her eyes, but she nodded, then looked at him and smiled happily at his acquiescence.
''Walim, it's going to be the best thing ever – alright look, here's what we'll do – I have to go to the Community Circle anyway the day after tomorrow on Sunday, there's a Dedication in the evening and I have to get ready. You have to take your book back – so come to great ma's in the morning and we can all go together – while we're there we can visit the Records Rooms and do the papers. How does that sound?''
Walim was nodding and smiling reluctantly, ''I could, couldn't I? And even come here every day if Mama wants me to, can't I?'' Saiyali was nodding and smiling with her own relief and delight.
When she left a little while later, beaming and blowing kisses to her beloved, and in her view now safe, little brother, there was nobody on the porch or in the yard; Yoreini had gone.
Saiyali more or less danced her way home to the equally-delighted Indraya, and they spent most of the evening happily making plans for a Homecoming party.
When Yoreini came back to her home again, Walim was surprised at how late she was – but relieved and glad she was in such a good mood. He was even more pleased that he managed to finish his book.
Registered Member #1273
Joined: 2:56:54 pm GMT 03/23/08
Posts: 536
Present: Introductions [pt.1]
Saiyali stood at the top of the hill in front of Yakiya's home staring out across the ocean, which seemed to come almost to her feet even from her high view. It was writhing, swelling and foaming, throwing up white plumes everywhere in the relentless autumn wind, and there was a continuous hissing roar from the waves breaking onto the rocks and pebbles not far off down a steep path.
She turned and the wind blew her hair across her face. She scooped it back with her fingers and tied it all together, using two long strands to wrap around the rest and hold it. This done, she gazed back up at the vista off to her left – the coastline, huge cliffs which stretched off into the hazy distance, as far as she could see.
Above the cliffs rose the tall, round Villid hills; the hill Saiyali was standing on was the very westernmost in this range as it ended at the river Prih, and the extensive salt marsh from which the town below took its name.
The rocks and pebbles that made up the beaches here were the ragged remains of these hills, cracked and broken by long ages of weather and ocean then fallen, leaving lumpy cliffs. She could see they were as high as three or four city block floors, but she knew as they extended southwards they grew taller and taller, to their highest point at the Pillars of the Gods – the two mountain peaks between which lay the narrow strait which formed the entrance to the Bay of Jewels.
For most of their length the cliffs were tall and jagged and there was no beach even at low tide, just huge piles of broken rocks sitting in the ocean that over long ages had claimed thousands of ships and countless lives. Lighthouses gleamed and sang from some of the higher promontories; isolated fishing villages nestling in river gullies offered safe havens for smaller craft. But ships were still lost, even more wrecked at sea to be driven ashore in pieces. Any survivors unlucky enough to be blown by the wind towards these cliffs would likely be smashed on them and skinned by the sharp, mollusc-encrusted rocks before they even found a spot to climb out of the ocean. Not for nothing was it called the Skeleton Coast, and the name even pre-dated the Empire.
Most of the Villid hills once belonged to the ancient kingdom of Tuuria, the last of the lands to be brought into the Empire. The cities of the Bay of Jewels once independently controlled great tracts of it, and most of the farmland they originally carved out with settlers during those ancient ages was still some of the most productive in the Empire.
As Saiyali stared south-east along the coast and let her gaze jump across the distant hilltops crowned here and there with trees, she remembered all this; she'd read it till she knew it off by heart. She knew the lands' names, where the cities were, which roads and rivers they stood on, and even what they'd once been called. She hadn't seen any of them, and yet from reading she knew the names of the forests, the lakes and the tallest peaks – as well as the roads not to travel.
And yet, this was not her home, and about her own home she knew almost nothing. She knew the land was called Marathy, she even remembered a little of the language. What she remembered though was simple and childish, and she wasn't sure if that was the language itself or just what she'd learned of it as a child. She knew only what she had read, and what she remembered for herself was not names or geography but impressions, feelings, sensations of dancing. She'd had to put everything aside that she learned as a child, in order to survive; not even to pretend it was forgotten – she'd had to really forget.
If any of them had guessed— She shook her head, allowing the thought to drift away unfinished. A gull overhead which was fighting against the strong wind cried three, four times. Saiyali looked up and chuckled to herself as she watched it struggle to fly forward in the breeze. It cried again and banked away, down the contour of the hill towards the town.
''Giving up? Heading down to somewhere with food eh?'' She muttered to herself. ''I know what you mean, bird. It's hard to get where you're trying to go – easy to stop and just stay where you know.'' She hummed a simple circular melody and turned her attention to the sea once again, trying to remember how the land began, way over there. She had tried so many times but as always, she found nothing came to mind. Were there cliffs? Was there a sandy beach? Were there hills, mountains, swamps, forests? She remembered forest in her childhood, enormous trees and a lazy river meandering between them. She remembered a shallow muddy lake, but didn't remember sea. She remembered tiny twinkling lights that seemed so high, but were shamed in her mind by the blazing night illuminations of Obsidian City. She pictured wooden halls that had turned to primitive ugliness in her memory – compared to the massive, ornately detailed stone, glass, jewelled wonders that comprised the city where she'd spent most of her life.
Far out to sea she could see a huge ship with enormous red and white sails puffed out like the belly of the fat merchant they probably belonged to. It was not unlike the Deep Rider, except that it was heading the opposite way. From Marathy, I wonder? If so it was probably packed with food, gemstones, precious metal, glass tanks of gas. She wondered if there were slaves too. Poor fools. Hope you get sold to someone who cares.
The thought made her turn her attention westward, looking the other way along the coast, towards the Obsidian City she knew was there, days away beyond the dark horizon. At her feet, the hill she stood on dropped away towards the river which spread in hundreds of muddy channels, across the wide marsh laid out below as far as her eyes could see.
At the bottom of the hill, the nearest houses and farmsteads of Salt Marsh looked like toys. The road that passed Yakiya's home ran downhill towards that eastern edge of town where at a wide crossroads it joined the River Road that ran from the north, and the short, wide and well-maintained south road from the sea docks. The fourth road at this crossroads led into the centre of town; Saiyali could see dozens of little figures and carts moving in every direction across the junction.
Her eyes followed the road towards town, over the houses that got smaller and closer together toward the river's edge. She could see the open space of the river dock, dozens of tiny river craft, and beyond them the vast marshy expanse spreading away north and west. The dark green and brown of waterways and wooded islets faded dimly into a grey distance. She could even make out a few buildings here and there on the larger islets; Salt works maybe. Fish farms. Life going on as normal. I should be so lucky.
With a sigh, she re-focused her eyes on the road from the town. Every day for nearly three weeks she'd been coming to the hilltop here to look out, in case Yakiya's message had been intercepted or she herself turned out to be untrustworthy. The wide, flat summit circled by trees and dotted with bushes was a good place to exercise, stretch and dance, and Saiyali felt sure that as long as she spent at least the daylight hours up high where she could see the roads, nobody could catch her unawares because she'd see them coming. At night she felt safe enough to stay indoors; she knew she could avoid being seen in darkness if she had to slip out the back door or one of the windows. But in daylight she'd find it harder to hide, and even her winning smile and long-honed charm wouldn't save her from wardens with orders.
In any case, this hilltop with its magnificent view up and down the coast was the perfect place to reflect and plan. Saiyali was counting quite heavily on Mama Nashivaar being kind enough to simply write another paper for her.
It should be easy – why wouldn't it be?
But actually getting to the Nashivaar matriarch would not be so easy. Between here and there were days of travel by road – Weeks, if I end up walking! Not a chance of landing there safely by boat, not without papers to show – then it's all wardens on the lookout and anyone who wants a reward for turning in an escaped slave. This bloody tattoo will do for me, no doubt about that—
Suddenly her eye caught a commotion at the edge of the town. Several people appeared to be fighting, and wardens were getting involved. Saiyali couldn't hear their voices but her eyes were keen enough to see three people being dragged apart, kicking and flailing. The scene unfolded in miniature at the crossroads, and as the three were separated, they all began shouting at once. A small crowd was gathering. There was plenty of pointing, and at one point one of the three tried to run away. He or she was quickly caught by bystanders and after a few more seconds of argument dragged away towards the docks by the wardens. The crowd began dissipating, though a small knot remained, talking animatedly together, with one of them pointing variously back into the town, towards the docks and along the road out of town.
Saiyali dropped instantly to the ground behind one of the trees, and pulled the hood of her borrowed brown robe up. She didn't want to be seen, even in silhouette from far off. She squinted hard but it now looked as if the group was dispersing. She watched carefully as most of the people wandered back towards the centre of town while one ran towards the dock, and another two began trotting up the road towards Yakiya's home, and the hill where Saiyali was watching from.
She cursed quietly and crept across the hilltop, to see the road better. She watched the pair searching the thin strip of scrub which bordered the road, and as they approached Yakiya's home one pointed and they both stopped. The one who had not pointed walked purposefully to Yakiya's front door, knocked and spoke briefly to her when she opened it. They both gestured up and down the road, and finally the man at the door walked away, waving back to Yakiya as she watched him leave. She only closed the door when she saw the pair both walking back towards the town.
''Wow, that was lucky!'' said a high nasal voice behind her.
Saiyali spun around, frowning and ready to run. There stood a short, dark woman dressed in dark grey and brown road gear and holding a small backpack in her left hand. Her hood was down, and Saiyali noticed her hair had been twisted into thin locks, rubbed with various red dyes and wound together into multi-hued red and orange strands that were themselves plaited together front-to-back across her scalp, giving the impression of flames leaping backwards over her head. Her eyes were very dark but with shimmering flecks of dark and piercing red. She wasn't smiling but she certainly didn't appear threatening, and Saiyali decided to stay where she was for now.
She narrowed her eyes to show she didn't appreciate the surprise, but spoke quietly so as not to reveal her agitation. ''What's lucky? And who are you, creeping up on me out here beyond the edge of town?'' She did her best to come across as annoyed rather than frightened.
The woman's eyes twinkled with amusement and the creases around them deepened noticeably; she was older than Saiyali had first thought, at least middle-aged. ''No need for a row, missy. My name's Bethifika, call me Fika if y' like. Or Beth. Just don't call me Thif!'' She laughed shrilly, as if she'd made a great joke. Saiyali frowned in confusion.
The woman pointed towards Yakiya's home, down the slope. ''I know her, I know Yakiya from way back. I'm on my way t' see her, as it goes. I would've knocked just now, but I got into a little – trouble, in town—'' She grinned sheepishly. ''Anyway, looks like they're not coming back this way. G'bye!'' She turned and ran off down the slope.
Saiyali watched her carefully, and was surprised to lose track of her just before she reached the road. She saw her reappear at Yakiya's door just exactly as it opened. A smiling Yakiya hugged her and ushered her inside, quickly closing the door with a glance up the hill–
Five minutes later, Saiyali was pushing at the door and discovering that it was locked. She frowned and knocked and heard Yakiya shuffle across the floor and pull back a bolt. The door opened, Yakiya smiled out at her, peered around the door and then beckoned her in. Saiyali ducked inside and Yakiya shot the bolt back into place with a smooth click. She whispered something at the door, which glowed briefly in response, then she let its curtain fall across again.
Saiyali raised a brow and looked across at Bethifika, sitting on the cushion closest to the stove. ''You must be important, if that's for your benefit'' she said coolly.
Yakiya shook her head. ''No, Saiyali. It's for our benefit. Bethifika here is something of an outlaw. We don't need trouble from wardens while we're talking. I doubt anybody will knock after the two who came before, but it's always best to be safe. And we are, I promise you both.'' She smiled and sat herself back on her own cushion.
Saiyali took a steaming cup which Yakiya indicated was for her, and sat on the couch. She sipped and regarded Bethifika, who looked back silently. Yakiya watched them both, her smile broadening.
''Yes, yes, I believe this is perfect!'' she finally exclaimed. ''Saiyali, Fika's come from Obsidian City in response to the message I sent. She's probably the best person who could have come, too, you'll be absolutely fine with her. Tell her your problem, why don't you?''
Bethifika listened carefully, while Saiyali briefly explained the situation.
She finally nodded and looked at Yakiya approvingly. ''I can – that is, we can help.''
She looked back to Saiyali, nodding seriously. ''I can get y' t' the city unseen, 's easy. I can get y' into th' city, into Nashivaar Village too I expect. Crossing th' city won't be easy. Or nice. But def'nitely possible. Once y' there an' you've sorted y' things out, we can talk about what you'll do for us.''
Saiyali blinked. ''Do for you? I – I was hoping we could negotiate a price in gold or gems, or—''
Bethifika laughed, ''Let's see 'em, then, these gold or gems?''
Saiyali hesitated, and nodded, closing her eyes and sighing as she understood. ''Alright, you're right. I haven't got anything. I suppose that means you name the price. I can't do anything for anyone till I get my paper, so I've got no choice.''
Bethifika winked conspiratorially but said nothing.
Saiyali went on reluctantly, ''So, alright – get me to Nashivaar, and yes, we can talk about what I'll do for you—'' She paused, then added ''But who's your we then?''
Bethifika shook her head. ''No no, let's not go into all that just now. As long as y' trust me t' get y' t' Nashivaar, an' as long as y' mean what y' just said, we got a deal. Look, I came t' see what Yakiya wanted, an' since it's about you then we can just as well start back tonight – after me an' Kiya 've had a bit of a catch up.'' She grinned, and Yakiya smiled back softly, clearly delighted to see her.
Saiyali pursed her lips and thought for a moment before nodding assent. ''Alright. We'll do that.'' It was obvious from her face that she was going to say more, and the other two let the brief silence hang till she did so. All three sipped at their drinks, then Saiyali went on, ''So Mama Yakiya – Bethifika – how about you tell me more about each other? I mean, you know all about me—'' a look passed between them that Saiyali noticed but didn't understand, and didn't dare to question.
Bethifika laughed and pointed, ''No, Kiya – you're a better teller than I am! Go on––''
Yakiya thought for a moment before shrugging. ''I don't know how to put it, other than we saved each other's lives. That sounds so melodramatic, doesn't it?'' She laughed heartily, and the enormous headscarf full of her long, long hair shook in response. She began refilling her pipe, and indicated to Bethifika that she should do the same.
Bethifika shook her head. ''Don't do any o' that now, Kiya. Gives me headaches. I like t' be clear. Remember, I still live there, ah?''
She winked, and Yakiya nodded sagely. ''Fair point. Out here by the ocean, things are a lot more – restful. Yes. Well, Saiyali – like I say, we saved each other's lives. I saved
Bethifika's first, and it's hard to believe but I did it just after I'd killed somebody.''
She paused to light her pipe, and Saiyali looked between them. Bethifika was watching Yakiya with eyes that didn't hide the love and respect she felt. Yakiya simply lit the pipe, threw the taper into her large obsidian sink and went on.
''Saiyali, I was once an assassin. I know it's probably hard to believe now but I was young then, and even assassins have to get old one day. Ha! If they're lucky!'' She laughed deeply again, and pulled on the pipe a couple of times before continuing. ''Have you ever heard of the Sisterhood of Shadows?''
Saiyali nodded slowly, her mouth dropping open before she caught herself, blinked, coughed, straightened up and answered. ''Well – yes – I mean – everybody has—'' she hesitated, thinking, ''But – I mean, it's not real, is it? I thought it was just what – you know – people tell children to make them behave?''
She looked uncertainly between them and Yakiya again got a sense that she wasn't saying something.
In the end though, she smiled gently and shook her head. ''No, Saiyali. The sisterhood is real.'' She looked as if she wanted to say more, but Saiyali appeared uncomfortable and Bethifika made a curious ''Hmm'' as she looked from one of them to the other.
Saiyali eventually sighed and held out an appealing hand. ''My – Baba Nashivaar, was killed by them. That's one of the reasons Mama let me go – she didn't want me there any more because I reminded her of him. She gave me my paper, and she told me how he died.''
She shook her head and lowered her eyes meekly. ''That's all. It was frightening.''
Yakiya looked frankly amazed and simply shook her head with a ''Well, well, well—'' that tailed off into a simple look of astonishment. She looked quizzically at Bethifika, not asking anything in words but her eyes had a question in them; Bethifika just nodded and grunted affirmatively.
Saiyali looked at her, apparently aghast. ''You are, as well?''
Bethifika roared with laughter, ''No no! I aint. But I move in similar circles, y' might say. And I def'nitely hear news like a powerful Baba getting done. Th' Sisterhood did do it, don't know why though.'' She shrugged and added, ''An' I'm no Shadow Sister, even if I might know one or two. Maybe you did, when y' lived there.'' Saiyali blinked awkwardly but Bethifika chuckled and went on regardless, ''That's th' point – nobody knows who they are; everybody thinks they're just a story. But they're not.'' She sipped her tea and looked back to Yakiya.
Saiyali regarded Bethifika for a moment or two longer, and reluctantly looked back to Yakiya after she began speaking once again.
''Well. I was on my way back from a—'' Yakiya sighed and shook her head. ''—a resolution. That's what they call it, resolution. I was wandering the streets afterwards, feeling horrible, really horrible – and shocked because I'd never felt so bad before. This particular resolution was—'' she hesitated and shook her head. ''No. I'll just say this: it was the last time I took a life. Anyway, I was just wandering – and in dark places, lucky for little Bethifika. I literally stumbled over her. She was unconscious, lying in a pool of her own blood, at first I thought she was dead. I took her to my place. Washed her, sewed her up, brought her back.''
Bethifika sighed and reached out to squeeze Yakiya's hand, and they smiled at each other. Saiyali looked down shyly but Yakiya went on speaking.
''Anyway I had my own problem. I wanted to stop doing what I was doing; that night was the last murder I wanted to do for the Sisterhood. Eh, resolution, indeed.'' She shook her head with a sigh. ''I knew I was finished with that, like I'd rather kill myself than one more person. But you don't just retire from the Sisterhood of Shadows, that's not how it works. There are vows, there are rituals; there is blood. It's not something you can just change your mind about.'' She was looking down in sombre reflection as she went on. ''They came looking for me, so I had to hide – but hiding from assassins is like – well, you know. They're assassins. They find people, ultimately.'' She winked at Bethifika and shook her head painfully. ''I and Fika though, we'd got a plan.''
Bethifika chuckled too now as Yakiya went on. ''We both knew you can't hide from assassins. I knew they wouldn't rest till they got me; so Fika shadowed me everywhere. She saw them catch me and then managed to follow them to where they took me. And then, she got me out.''
Bethifika laughed, a hollow and sarcastic laugh. ''Never heard y' tell this as a story t' someone before, Kiya. Y' make it sound so bloody easy!'' She turned to Saiyali, and Saiyali couldn't help smiling at her wide, ironic eyes. ''Well like she said, we knew they'd come in th' end, an' we made a plan – something like, Kiya looks like she's hiding and keeping out the way, then I watch her everywhere. An' it worked! I saw three Sisters grab her. But following them was no joke! An' then – ha! – where was it they took you? Bloody Fort Tusk, who knew they'd be there of all places?''
Saiyali looked surprised. ''Fort Tusk in Obsidian City?'' she broke in, ''At the Circle of Ashes – where the old ex-Empress lives?''
Yakiya nodded. ''That's just the place.'' Then surprised, ''You know it?''
Saiyali nodded and leaned down conspiratorially. ''I got taken there once by Mama Nashivaar. She was good friends with the Mama—'' She thought a moment then corrected herself,
''No! They were cousins – Mama Wisheleku was her name, which was one of my Mama's family's names too.'' Yakiya rolled her head back slightly and smiled an ironic smile. Bethifika glanced at her and the corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. Saiyali didn't notice, and just went on, ''Anyway she said there's usually one or two who live there – she said it's where they get kept if their Emperor dies first.''
Yakiya and Bethifika both laughed at this, and Saiyali blinked in surprise and went on doubtfully and looking a little hurt, ''Well – I heard the old Emperors who outlive their Empresses get kept somewhere far far east, somewhere near Gold City. That idea always made me wonder, why? Why do they get kept like they're in storage? And why so far apart?''
Yakiya raised a brow curiously. ''You know what they do, don't you – the people we make Emperor and Empress? They hold the Empire together through all the aenimus.''
Saiyali looked intrigued and nodded with a gentle ''Huh!''
Yakiya went on, ''In the old days – the ancient days, I mean – the one who didn't die would be killed as well, and they'd be burned together, but the effect on the balance of energy in the Empire was too strong. There would be riots, rebellions, crime would explode – always during the times of change. Eventually the surviving one was allowed to live, but in seclusion. Since then, the death of an Emperor or Empress isn't so disastrous.'' Saiyali nodded in understanding as Yakiya went on, ''Why are they kept at opposite sides of the Empire? I really don't know. Maybe it's just a symbol, maybe it's to keep a balance of energies.''
There was a pause as the three of them considered this, but Bethifika brought them back to the point deftly. ''So anyway – as y've been there, y' know why I was laughing when Kiya casually said then she got me out as if even getting into Fort Tusk is easy! And then finding exactly where she was—'' She shook her head almost seeming to disbelieve her own memories, then went on with an ironic chuckle, ''And when we finally found her, it didn't look like that particular party was th' kind of thing an ex-Empress would've approved of! And three Shadow Sisters, right there, angry and ready. An' Yakiya, an' she was in a bad way by the time we actually found her in there.'' She shook her head and repeated, ''Bad, very bad indeed''
Yakiya traced the scars on her temple from her hairline to her cheekbones, and then pulled down a little of the long robe she was wearing. Shiny scars trailed from those on her face, over both shoulders and down her arms and chest. Saiyali winced in sympathy.
''They w' doing a Thousand Cuts, an' they'd nearly finished,'' Bethifika went on, seeing Yakiya's eyes seem to shimmer with the pain of the memory, ''At least it looked that way. There w' three of us too though, an' we made quick work o' them – they never expected us, never even heard us coming. We cleaned th' room an' took th' bodies out, cleaned up Yakiya and dressed her all in bandages. We guessed they weren't expecting any interruptions an' we just used their time.'' She looked proud but pained as she regarded Yakiya.
''And me, I haven't been back to Obsidian City again since,'' finished Yakiya with a smile, ''And they haven't come here. It's been nearly forty years, Fika. Do you think they've forgotten me?''
Bethifika laughed, long and loud. ''Not for a second, Kiya, ha!– y' disappeared from probably one o' their safe places, wi' three Sisters, an' there was no sign anyone'd even been there! I reckon even th' Sisterhood draw the line somewhere. They called it quits, didn't they – Officially Not Worth The Trouble, y' know. Don't suppose y' can go back again – but as long as y' don't, I'm thinking by now they aint chasing any more.''
Yakiya laughed. ''Pfft – fine by me! Never want to be shut inside those walls again. And these people out here – they need me more than those murderers ever did. I'm happy, and I never even knew how that felt till it happened. They respect me here, and they love me, they sure don't fear me.'' She nodded to Saiyali and her smile was sincere and content. ''Each life I saved, each child I brought into the world, each sick son or daughter I nursed – all chipped away at the horror I felt that day I met Fika—'' and the smile didn't falter as she added, ''No horror any more, just peace.''
Saiyali nodded slowly as she let all this sink in - then she had a sudden thought, ''But you, Fika, how come you can be there? They never caught you, right?''
Bethifika winked. ''What's to catch? I told you, we cleaned the place. They had no idea who was there apart from Kiya and the Sisters who took her there. Me and the two who helped me were fine! We just – weren't there.''
She paused and regarded Saiyali with a keen eye, and sighed, ''I might as well be honest, since we're about t' spend a lot o' time together, an' I'll have to tell you in th' end - so why not now? We're thieves, my crew an' me. I suppose that's something t' think about while we're travelling – an' you never know – y' might start t' get some idea of how can pay us back f' helping—'' She tailed off pointedly.
Registered Member #1273
Joined: 2:56:54 pm GMT 03/23/08
Posts: 536
Present: Introductions [pt.2]
It was dark as the door closed behind them and they both pulled their hoods up against the stiffly gusting sea breeze. A little rain fell in spits and spots, but there was no sign of a long downpour. The wind was relentless, though, and it was middle-of-the-night cold.
''Good weather f' passing by town. Everyone'll be indoors with everything closed, big fires. Anyone outside – they'll all be busy keeping warm and dry t' bother looking out. Won't even have t' creep – wi' this wind there'll be plenty o' noise we can hide in!''
They crossed the road and began walking across the side of the hill opposite Yakiya's little house, looking strong and safe under the vast dark sky; no moon nor stars could be seen through the thick clouds racing overhead.
Saiyali's eyes adjusted quickly to the dark, and down the hill as they crossed its broad western slope the lamp-lit Townside Road was visible running north. Their cross-country route was meant to keep them parallel to but a distance away from to the road, so as not to be seen.
They walked in silence. Bethifika because she knew she needed to conserve her energy. Saiyali because she was already suffering. She'd always been fit and as a dancer she was both strong and supple, but her weeks of enforced rest had left her weaker than she'd ever been. Her exercises had necessarily been gentle but the salt water had hurt her lungs and it was still painful to breathe hard. Now she was walking at full stretch and having to breathe deep, she was noticing her breaths didn't come easily and each one made her lungs sting and itch.
Her feet felt no better. The canvas shoes she'd been given by Yakiya didn't do a lot to disguise the sharp lumps and bumps that each step discovered on the ground. They won't take too many days of this walking, either.
It's all a matter of perspective, she reminded herself, I could still be at Nashivaar. She felt this might become a kind of mantra over the next few weeks; she might be cold, tired, miserable and not really strong enough for this journey; but at least I'm free!
As they strode further and further from the sea, the noise of waves slowly died away. The wind in the trees and bushes though – that vast, haunting, dissonant whistle wasn't dying away at all, and as the sun rose and the sky began to pale, the racing grey clouds became visible; light rain began to fall. They agreed to keep walking as there was no shelter and sitting in the wet didn't appeal to either of them.
They were crossing an endless rocky hillside, sometimes steeper and sometimes shallower but always up to the right and down to the left. Stubby fruit trees and patches of cactus grew here and there between fragrant bushes and clumps of coarse grass. The wind was too strong for any pleasant smells to linger though; the aspect was bleak and the lowering clouds resting on the nearest hilltops made it look even more so. She looked into the distance again, squinting from the wind. The Sea Heath—
She knew the Sea Heath was a rugged land backing most of the long southwestern coast, a range of hills windswept but far from wild. It was roughly fenced into large pastures, for animals whose milk and meat fed millions of Westerners. The flatter country further north – all the way to the Rindja River and Obsidian City itself – was intensive farm land, full of small towns and villages, tightly-managed and productive forests, plantations, farms and gardens. It all lay within a network of well-maintained roads and irrigation canals across a land long tamed and settled, and just about everything grown or produced there belonged somehow to Obsidian City. Most people even called it Obsidian Garden, Saiyali also knew it was one of the most densely-populated regions of the empire.
And we have to cross it – one of us a wanted thief and the other for all the world an escaped slave. She gave a wry grin and called out to Bethifika, ''Are we going to walk all the way? I'm not sure these shoes'll take it, you know!''
Bethifika nodded and called back over her shoulder, ''No, don't worry – we aint walking the whole way. D' y' think I walked all the way t' Kiya's? No! There's other ways of travelling, o' course!''
Saiyali frowned in annoyance and snapped, ''I know! But we can't get driven – who'll drive us?''
Bethifika chuckled and replied, ''Well, not everyone needs t'know who we are, do they?''
Saiyali paused, then shrugged. ''Alright, disguises – fair enough, that is a good idea. But still – what disguises – and from where? I can't imagine looking like anything other than what I am, which is a half-drowned runaway with a famous tattoo.''
Bethifika suddenly turned completely around, though she kept walking backwards as she spoke. She was barely holding in her annoyamce as she answered, ''Look, you don't know but there's a Shrine not far off, where that road crosses a little river. We're going t' steal clerical robes for a disguise, an' then we're going t' get a lift from some kindly passing stranger in th' next town we pass because we're, ah, poor clerics making a pilgrimage to, ah, th' Farmers Shrine where we'll, I don't know, make a dedication or something.'' She shrugged and added with a cheeky wag of her head, ''How does that sound t' you?'' Then with a chuckle she turned around again to go on walking forwards.
Saiyali thought quietly as she upped her pace. It's better than nothing, which is my plan so far. She knew the longer they walked openly the more likely they were to be seen or to meet someone. But something still bothered her and with a sceptical sneer she asked back, ''But how are we going to travel as Shrine Clerics? I won't get away with it, nobody's going to believe I'm a Cleric! Look at me – you ever seen a cleric as pale as this?''
Bethifika raised a brow, looked behind at Saiyali, and slowed to let her catch up. ''Are you mad?'' she asked with a grin, ''I'll be the Cleric! You'll be a Noviate or something – then y' can wear a mask an' gloves, nobody'll know what y' look like – right? We're bound t' find them where we find robes. Means y' won't have t' talk, too.'' She grinned and looked ahead again.
Close behind her, Saiyali was thinking that not talking sounded like a fine idea. Starting now, I reckon, she reflected, mask or no mask.
They walked on for a few more hours, mostly in silence. Eventually, the crossing Bethifika had mentioned became visible in the darkening evening sky. It was a short stone bridge over a tumbling stream, the last tributary stream before the sea – though to Bethifika and Saiyali walking upstream, it was the first one since the sea.
Not far beyond the bridge they saw the twinkling of lantern lights and a green glow inside a glade of trees. Voices were chanting and shadows danced everywhere as the light from a shrine in the glade cast silhouettes of the singers across the trees. But the shrine was not their aim – a little way uphill from the shrine glade stood a stone cottage not unlike Yakya's, but larger. Oil lamps were hung at every corner and on each side of the wide front door. They walked quietly around it, peering into the windows. Nobody was inside – but they didn't go in, they went on towards another, smaller door on the far end, opposite a wide stone well.
The small door was locked, and Bethifika made a strange twirling gesture with her fingers.
Saiyali had no idea what it meant, and she shrugged, holding her hands out and shaking her head. Bethifika rolled her eyes, pointed at the door and pulled a long, shiny spike from an inside pocket; she had the door unlocked in a couple of seconds. She opened it, peered inside, beckoned to Saiyali and disappeared into the darkness.
Saiyali looked about her and followed. As she came inside, Bethifika closed the door quietly and whispered, ''This has t' be a storeroom. Find robes, quick! An' a noviate mask!''
Saiyali reached out and down to her left, and felt a glass lock hanging from a hoop on the lid of a wooden box. There was a scratching from across to her right, then a ringing click.
She whispered, ''Fika – there's one here too. Open it, will you?''
Bethifika found her, found the lock and sprung the small lock with the same scratch and click sound, then she patted Saiyali on the back and moved away to continue her own search.
Saiyali opened the lid of the large box. She felt around inside and pulled out a smooth, embroidered garment. It felt to her like one of the kind clerics wear, and she snapped her fingers, reaching out to her right.
Bethifika turned in the dark. ''What?'' she whispered, and Saiyali threw the robe over towards the voice. Bethifika giggled as the robe landed on her head, and she whispered back, ''Thanks then!''
They both slipped robes over their heads, and Bethifika added quietly, ''Found a mask?''
Saiyali sighed, ''No, let me keep looking.'' She reached back into the box but Bethifika put a piece of soft cotton in her hand with a chuckle.
''No, well then I found one. Come on, let's go. I can't find gloves so you'll just have t' keep y' hands in y’ sleeves!'' Bethifika added, still whispering. They closed everything up and hastened outside; then back to the bridge. There, they got onto the road again and began walking back towards the glade like any normal travellers. It didn't take long till they turned into the brightly-lit sanctuary with its huge glass shrine; and above the centre of the floor glimmered a cloud of coruscating aenimus.
At least a dozen people were singing, and their song was one Saiyali had never heard before. It looked as if they were dedicating tools; each person held a pair of farming implements up as they sang, and aenimus flowed from inside the shrine to each person and the tools they held. Wisps of it were wrapping around the heads of the forks, flails, picks, rakes and different blades, and it was clear the group were trying to gather the aenimus from the Shrine without anyone breaking the thin strands connecting them to each other. Their movements were a kind of dance, and Saiyali was fascinated. As they circled, the more confident among them would gather a knot of aenimus on the head of a rake, or blade of a scythe, and flick it to one of the others causing an arcing trail of the stuff to make yet another connection between the people in the circle, and the tools themselves.
The fragile web of aenimus between them had clearly grown with the intensity of the song – but as Bethifika and Saiyali watched from the glade gate, all the singers at the same instant stopped still and silent, together and suddenly. They remained motionless for a few seconds till a single, low hum began emanating from all together. The resonance of every voice singing the same tone made the web of aenimus quicken anew, and the conglomeration pulsing inside the shrine now dissipated and covered every head and face, every body, in a thin sheen of brightness. As the aenimus covered them, their voices split into many tones; sparks flew and slowly melted into a shimmering circle around the shrine, binding every singer. Then the voices came closer and drew in the remaining aenimus till finally mere tendrils remained; the singing faded, resolving into a final harmonious accord that passed unnoticed into silence.
The resonance of the voices hung in the air and echoed its final reflections inside the shrine, but slowly the whistling wind reasserted itself, rustling leaves joined in all around, and the circle broke up. The participants carefully wrapped their tools in canvas sheets which were piled up at one side of the glade, and as each tool was wrapped up it was laid in the middle of the shrine's floor.
As the farmers wandered out of the glade towards the small building where Saiyali and Bethifika had also just been, they began talking and laughing, expressing how hungry they were and how welcome a drink would be. Their voices moved away and then grew smaller and harder as they entered the building, eventually being cut off as they closed the door against the chilly, windy night.
Saiyali turned to Bethifika with a frown. ''Doesn't seem to actually be a cleric here, Fika.''
Bethifika nodded. ''No, she's away. I talked t' some visitors on m' way t' Kiya's place a couple o' days ago – they said she's away visiting. Means we get to raid her store room and stay in her house. Nice, ah?''
Saiyali looked worried and Bethifika smiled. ''Shrine clerics' retreats are always open, even when they're away. People who use th' shrine take care o' them. An' these here, they'll never know we aint what we look like. Trust me! Anyway, I'm hungry, an' I bet they're cooking in there–.''
Saiyali glared in irritation and Bethifika laughed. ''I'll talk – y' don't need t' say a thing, right? You're a noviate, so just – sshh!''
Saiyali nodded acquiescently and reached up to make sure her mask was tied on securely. They strode across to the front door, and Beth knocked firmly and entered.
They were immediately overcome by a blast of noise and smell. The farmers certainly were cooking; they were also talking and laughing noisily, and two were singing ragged bits of some song as they poured a clear liquid from a couple of clay bottles into small dark glasses.
Faces looked around in no order whatever as Bethifika and Saiyali entered, and several of the people sitting stood up and bowed respectfully.
One of the women, an old, round, wrinkled woman who was wearing a brightly-quilted robe of different wools and whose long locks were tied up in a huge bunch wrapped in shimmering green cloth, smiled and held up both arms in welcome.
''Ah! You're home, Mama! Come and sit and eat with us. You too, girl!'' this last kindly, to Saiyali.
Bethifika shook her head sternly. ''No, she must sit alone'' and turned to Saiyali, gesturing that she should go and sit at a small, low table at the back of the room.
Saiyali walked across gratefully, sliding a couple of the cushions there together so she could sit leaning against the wall and stretch out her legs. She looked around the room, which was austere but homely.
To her left, a heavy dark green curtain hung from the ceiling. She reached out and moved it to one side, finding within the curtained-off section a comfortable-looking and surprisingly large bed. She let the curtain drop back and peered around the great bed; at its foot sat a small shelf with a few books stacked on it, and beyond was a large fireplace, more or less in the other corner of the short wall. Above the hearth was a heavy stone shelf which had several candles in clay dishes spread along its length, as well as a wooden pot for making tea.
She noticed a large spider's web high up in the far corner, above a window now covered by thick green curtains like the ones around the bed. The walls were plain grey stone covered by a few hemp and cotton sheets in restful dark shades of red, brown and green. On the inside of the dark front door hung a beautifully-made but dry and withered door wreath. To the right of the door, reaching nearly to the corner where the kitchen began, there was another large window, closed against the weather but not covered by its curtain. Swaying branches were darkly visible through the glass, silhouetted in the light from the lanterns hung about the glade.
On the floor just inside the front door, there was a rough mat smeared with mud, and next to this on the right were piled all the farmers' boots. She realised she still had her own canvas shoes on, but decided to leave them on; she was still not completely convinced they wouldn't have to leave in a hurry.
From the pile of boots, Saiyali looked up to the far corner beyond the window, where in front of a wide shelf full of books, papers and what looked like ornaments – she suspected that as this was a cleric's house they were probably all useful in some way – there was a large round table. Here sat most of the farmers on low stools, eating delicious-smelling fried meat piled on rice with mushrooms, and drinking some kind of tea. Others were sitting on stools and on cushions around the large black glass stove that was still covered with steaming pans.
As Saiyali watched, Bethifika piled food onto a wooden plate, and then filled a wooden cup with water from a barrel on a table across from the stove. She walked across to Saiyali calmly, serenely, shaking her head to insist that whatever Saiyali might be thinking of saying or doing, she shouldn't.
Saiyali didn't; she simply nodded with respect as the plate and cup clunked softly down onto the small table, then Bethifika turned blankly and walked back to join the farmers.
Saiyali ate hungrily and happily, listening to the farmers telling about their dedication. They'd been disappointed not to find her at the shrine, they said, but the old woman proudly confided that she didn't need a cleric really and that their song had done well with her leading. Some congratulating voices – including Bethifika's – broke up into a more general discussion on shrines, and a couple of voices expounded proudly on their abilities with aenimus. There was a lot of laughter, and even Saiyali found herself giggling here and there; she was impressed by the ease with which Bethifika was turning someone else's house into something more like a Social, but she was glad she herself was eating alone. She wasn't in any mood for small talk, there was too much to do before she would be able to relax enough for that.
Eventually she pushed her plate away and leaned back against the wall behind her, enjoying the softening conversation that was quieting as everyone digested and became sleepy. The next thing she remembered was being shaken awake by Bethifika and manhandled into the cleric's large bed. She felt Bethifika get in near her but fell back to sleep straight away.
She woke a few times from rumbles of thunder and noisy gusts of stormy wind, but the weight and warmth of her robes and the blankets and the gentle snoring of Bethifika next to her, and of the others sleeping on bedrolls on the floor, soon lulled her back to sleep.
The storm blew over in the darkness and rain teemed down with a muted hiss all night, but dozing under a heavy thatched roof inside stone walls and thick curtains, it might have been a storm in another place entirely.
Registered Member #1273
Joined: 2:56:54 pm GMT 03/23/08
Posts: 536
[A Page in a Tree]
Shrines
You will find conveniently-placed shrines dotted around the Empire wherever you go. All shrines work in the same way and require someone skilled in manipulating aenimus in order to get the most from them. Most shrines will be attended by a shrine cleric, who will be able to advise on how best to get what you need from that particular shrine.
At home, it's always easy to find something to eat and a comfortable place to sleep; while travelling it's sometimes necessary to forgo food, sleep or both because of weather, danger, banditry or any number of unfortunate happenings on the road. It's in situations like this when the true value of a shrine in quickening your aenimus becomes apparent. With well-timed and properly-performed shrine dedications, it's possible to go for days with neither food nor sleep, and when in the wilds of the furthest reaches of the Empire such fortitude is often necessary for survival.
Remember – wherever there are people, there will be a shrine. Travelling Clerics frequently set them up in remote locations – and maintain them too, and if you meet such a cleric you may be able to persuade them to teach you a thing or two. With the right knowledge and a little practice, it's possible to set up your own shrine almost anywhere. We hope these tips on shrine use will help you travel safer, easier and more fulfilled.
First of all, we repeat – talk to clerics! It's easy to ignore them as they go about their everyday business at their shrines – and of course they're almost always busy with something. But clerics know about aenimus, they know their shrine – and they tend to meet a lot of people. It's often said clerics know local people and places better than any travel adviser.
Second – remember resonance. Shrines work by amplifying the energy of anything placed inside them, when the right notes, scales and melodies are sung in the right order and at the right volume, the right things happen. All shrines are essentially the same in that they work on resonance – but every one resonates on different tones and most resonate best with two, three or more harmonies being sung together. Some, such as the Grand Shrine (see separate entry), have a virtually unlimited resonant ability and can contain and distinctly resonate hundreds of tones at once. Others – such as a simple travel shrine, can only resonate at a single tone, or for a limited time, or produce uncomfortable Burn. While travelling, you'll experience many different forms of resonance; don't be intimidated by this, treat it as part of the road experience, like the weather and the company.
Third – don't overdo it! When you know an arduous journey or task is coming up, or when you're feeling overtired and feeble, it's tempting to spend a bit too long or sing a bit too loud, hoping that this will in some way give a boost to the process of quickening aenimus. If you've ever tried it you'll know – it doesn't. It burns. At home where everything is comfortable and easy, it's rare to hear of cases of Spirit Burn. On the road, it's all too common – and usually at remote shrines where there's no cleric to spot the warning signs and prevent it. If you begin to notice a sickly-sweet smell in the aenimus around you, or if you feel a prickling sensation just under your skin or in your bones, you're in danger of Spirit Burn. Simply stop what you're doing, walk away and take a few deep breaths, and then don't visit any shrines for at least a day. Spirit Burn can be fatal – and is always painful. Don't spoil a beautiful journey – take it easy at shrines you don't know well.
Fourth – if you encounter any animals near a shrine, treat them well. They are probably Faerets. A Faeret can be any animal, but it is always one that is attracted more than usual to aenimus and to shrines. Clerics often seem to have a number of pets of all kinds; these are Faerets and the cleric will tend to treat them more as family than as animals. Sometimes when a cleric travels elsewhere, one or two of their Faerets may travel with them, though groups of such animals are never welcome in towns and cities. Sometimes – with the more intelligent animals, at least – the Clerics use them as messengers, scouts, and hunters. If you arrive at an out-of-the-way shrine unannounced, the Cleric will usually have heard from their Faerets that a traveller approaches. This is why we say – treat animals near a shrine well. It will pay dividends if you visit the shrine later.
Unfortunately, travelling in some more out-of-the-way locations, you may find it hard to locate a shrine. This is indeed a risk of travelling off the beaten track and there are a number of precautions you can take, to ensure that you remain safe even when you are unable to find a shrine to quicken at.
Most especially, remember to breathe properly. Of course everyone thinks they know this – but it's easy to forget to breathe properly when you're tired, hungry, thirsty, frightened, anxious or any one of dozens of ways that travelling inevitably makes you feel. If you're travelling alone, remember to keep singing something almost the whole time – even if it's no more than a soft hum.
Remember you're always safer when your voice is warmed up and your aenimus is loose. We strongly suggest trying to learn at least a few songs off by heart that you think you might need as you
[ The Island of Thain ]
A kind of thank you
