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ALOD - Part 19
🕑 Added 2021-02-05 19:15:36 +0000 UTCThe wind bit even colder up on horseback, despite the relative slowness of the horse. Aya and Naia trotted through the woods in relative silence, the trees growing more defined as the sun climbed higher and higher. When they were half-way from the village, or thereabouts, Naia finally spoke.
“So, Aya, what were you doing in a church at so early an hour?” he said.
There was always the hint of a smile in his words, even when his face was relatively impassive.
“I might ask the same of you,” she said slowly, still unwilling to divulge too much information despite his apparent affability.
Her anxiety slightly rose when an answer failed to come, fearing that she had somehow angered the man.
“I suppose I know less about you than you me,” he said with a laugh, “if you must know, I’m leading a party this far north, and I was somewhat curious about the conditions of Visaya. So I rode ahead to ask around, and who would know better the happening than the local priest?”
She supposed that was reasonable enough answer, and she had little reason not to give one in return.
“I have trouble sleeping,” she said slowly, “sometimes I go to the church.”
“Someone should’ve told the priest,” he said.
“I don’t usually fall asleep there,” she said quickly, hoping that he wouldn’t see through the thread-bare explanation.
“I see. What do people of your age do for fun around here?”
“For fun? Well… there’s not much,” she confessed, startled by the sudden change in topic, “the summer festival was about a week or two ago. Mostly I just cook.”
“Tapia routha. Is your father a student of the schools?”
“So you are from Karkos,” she said, her suspicions at his mannerisms, as well as his tanned complexion confirmed.
“That was a long time ago. I can barely remember the last time I was in the city,” he said.
There was a stretch of awkward silence, as they ducked beneath a collection of lower cedar pines.
“Do you… what do you remember?” she said, excited at the prospect of someone other than her mother telling her about Karkos.
“I would’ve figured you’d remember more than me. I left when I was very young.”
“Um. Well, I’ve never actually… been.”
“Oh,” he said.
The silence this time was more contemplative than awkward, but the operative word was still ‘more’. Aya was starting to think that this ride might have been a mistake.
“Well, what can I say? It’s a beautiful city. You have canals that trace their way all over the city, cutting right through its heart. Most of them are lined with raised cobble side streets where people walk. Some of the main waterways are so packed you don’t need to use the bridges, you can simply walk across the boats. Barring the displeasure of the boatmen, of course.”
Aya giggled at the idea, it reminded her of some of the log-running down by the central river that cut through the valley.
“You said something about a festival?” he suddenly asked.
“Yes, uh, the summer festival. We pile some of the logs in the centre of the village, and have a great big bonfire. There’s dancing and singing and good food.”
She didn’t mention the story-telling, her favourite part. It felt oddly personal, too personal to share with this stranger.
“Ah! So that was what the rings of stones were for. I was wondering. That does sound like fun,” he said as he nudged his horse away from the edge of the path.
“Well, Karkos has something similar. ‘The festival of Occluded’ - half the city comes out onto the streets and canals. They all dawn masks, most are self-made, but some are generations old. Vendors pool their wealth and feasting tables the length of the streets are laid out for all to eat at.”
“Wow,” said Aya, imaging people like Naia and her mother at decadently laid benches, laughing and talking over a cornucopia of food.
“But there’s a secret. There are those that wear the mask of the Occluded. If they manage to slip a mark onto your clothing, you must find another Occluded to give it too, else you have to go to the hall of the dead.”
“They kill you?” she said in disbelief. Her mother hadn’t ever told her anything about that.
“Oh no, nothing like that. You must give penance, in the form of a donation. I never got a mark, though. I was too young. The drunk men and woman around me though…”
She would be sure to ask her mother about it when she came back into the village.
“Maybe one day you’ll see it,” he said, “I hope you do. Its one of the few things worth the travel.”
“‘Worth it’?”
“Generally, the further west you go, the more boring it is, at least on Tarsil.”
“What is ‘Tarsil’?”
“Do they not teach you about explorer Denscien, here? The man who circum-navigated the world?”
The name rang a bell, but Aya was too embarrassed to admit that she may have forgotten it.
“Well, he found multiple continents outside our own, Tarsil. You’ve seen a map, one with Angorrah on it?”
“Yes. The priest had an illuminated manuscript with one,” Aya said, thinking back to some of her lessons in the stone halls, “Are there really great serpents in the ocean?”
Naia’s laughter rang through the trees, and Aya felt her face reddening in response.
“No, no. There aren’t any this side of the ocean. Anything can be found in Pasgrima, though.”
“So, polite men to?” she said again, anger coming out behind the word.
“Anything’s possible,” he said with a chuckle.
As they broke through the tree-line, the village finally in sight, Naia explained.
“Pasgrima is the land, the ‘first lands’ according to some’s reckoning, far to the south-west of here, across the ocean. The Church in Angorrah has had its heart set on it for some time.”
Aya ignored the pun - the man must’ve thought it was funny.
“Either way, I wouldn’t be surprised to find a sea serpent crawling around one of its coasts. Magic runs strong in the roots of the continent so all sorts of odd creatures gather there.”
“Could you tell me more?” asked Aya, fascinated by this discovery. She began rifling through the lessons she’d had in her mind, trying to figure out whether she’d ever been taught about such a place.
“Maybe. The truth is hard to relay. Most is what I’ve read and heard, half of which is lies and exaggerations, and the others impossible to verify without seeing it yourself.”
“So, you’ve been there. Otherwise you would be saying ‘no’.”
“Have you considered joining the knights of Angorrah? They’re in dire need of intelligent people.”
They broke through the trees, and rode their way up the hill, the man falling into silence as they crossed the first few lines of houses.
“Will here work?” he said, pulling the horse up.
“Yes, thank you,” she said quickly, clumsily dismounting before people could start staring. He followed her down, giving the horse a pat on the flank as it tossed its mane.
“Well, it was a pleasure meeting you,” he said before beginning to walk away, only to turn back, “Oh, and Aya?”
“Yes?” she said, stopping half-way into turning towards the roads to her home.
“Travelling is a good aspiration, but you shouldn’t be rushing to leave your home. Your time here will pass before you know it. Enjoy it while you still can.”
With a wave, he set out toward the main road, where the small inn kept a stable.
Aya completed the turn and walked up the side of the hill and out into the meadows. With each step, she felt a heavier and heavier sense of dread growing on her. What would she say to her parents? Doubtless they would be worried sick. As the small house came closer and closer, she had to fight the urge to run away through the grass.
As she stepped from the grass, to a path, to the wooden porch, she almost felt ill with embarrassment and fear. She paused before the door, taking a deep breath to steady herself and placing a hand on the wood. In an absurd moment of realization, she reached down to remove the mud from her feet,cursing herself for allowing it to get all over the porch she had just cleaned yesterday.
But there was no mud.
She frowned, looking back over the planks and out to the grass. Frost glimmered in the morning light, but that made no sense. Aya walked out to pluck a handful of grass from the side of the path, examining it closer. It felt cold and it crunched like frost, so it must’ve been, but it should’ve all melted int the morning light. She glanced out toward the meadow, spying the white edge where frost met the dew-streaked meadow.
By the time she discerned that it circled her entire house, her hand was suddenly empty.
She cast about the edge of the path, trying to figure out just where the stalks had gone. There they were, frost-covered, as if they had never been taken from the ground to begin with. Aya rubbed her eyes, thinking it might just be a trick of the light or something similar. But no, there they were, the grass that she had definitely taken from the ground, perfectly attached.
She crept up to the door of the house, the tendrils of panic now curling in her chest. She gripped the latch and pressed in wards to the kitchen. Everything appeared just how she had left it, minus her mother.
“Mother?” she said, voice wavering as she walked across the floor.
The was a thin sound at the edge of hearing, like an ice-sheet cracking. Aya’s ears felt like she had come up from the bottom the river.
Then her mother turned to face her.
“Aya, sweetheart. There you are. Are you feeling better today?”
The response was decidedly more casual than Aya would’ve thought.
“Yes. I just… stepped out for a walk,” she lied, hoping that she wouldn’t ask too many questions about where she’d gone.
“My, must’ve been a short walk. You only just stepped outside.”
Aya felt her guts twist at the words. She tried to say something, anything, but nothing came from her dry mouth.
“It’s a very bright morning, isn’t it? Sun must’ve come early. I know you must be tired after waking up, but there’s lots of work to be done today if you’re feeling better,” she said, squinting at the light from the door frame.
“Yes,” she said, feeling as stiff as a board.
