Partings and Meetings
It was amazing, how much Pelagia had dreaded and looked forward to this day all at once. She rose as the first rays of light were casting a feeble gold into the uppermost stone corridors of the Sea Cliffs, mostly because her twitching nerves couldn't bear to let her relax a moment longer.
She dressed and gathered her belongings in silence, letting her eyes linger over the notch-in-the-wall room that had been her home since birth. As she gathered up the white dress her mother had made especially for the journey ahead, she had to bite down on her lower lip and hasten her preparations. The temptation to run down the hall and tell her parents she couldn't bring herself to leave was welling up quickly.
When her bag was finally packed and she had managed to plaster a brave posture and nonplussed expression onto herself, she made her way through the twisting passages of the village, taking a narrow and sharply inclined shortcut through the rocks to avoid the occasional early-rising Clansmen. She had said her goodbyes the night before, she did not wish to see any of the familiar, worried faces now. Left, down, around that little stream, and suddenly she was face to face with the bridge leading to parts unknown, barred mostly from her view by her mother, father, and the Clan's Shaman.
Pela's mother offered a strained smile, her father made no such pretense. She embraced them both. "Stop looking at me like that," she chided gently, "I'm not going off to war."
Maia reached up to brush the hair from her daughter's brow. "For all we know you might be, there is a large and unforgiving world outside these walls. Promise me you'll be on your guard even when you sleep." Pela could only nod slowly, doing her best to look serene. Bahari squeezed her shoulder in lieu of any heartfelt words that might have been interpreted as 'non-manly'. He then dropped a small drawstring bag into Pela's hand, a gesture she could only meet with puzzlement. "Father, what is-"
"For your journey, of course. You won't get far on foot, trade some of that to get a horse at the first place that'll give you one, you understand?" The stiff tone to his words told her that he was, in fact, reining in a great deal of worry. Pela pulled the bag open an inch or two, and the telltale shimmer of several pearls winked back up at her. Her eyes went wide.
"All of this? I couldn't possibly.." she stammered. Again, her father cut her protests short.
"You're not taking anything that's not rightfully yours. The Elders agreed to give you your share of the past seasons' harvest early," he said. "Dorian said not to pay him his share yet, something about waiting until you weren't a 'wet-behind-the-ears apprentice', I believe?" A bit of a grin broke the stony look of concern her Father had been wearing. They both began chuckling softly in spite of themselves. It was then that the old Shaman interjected softly.
"Pelagia, the sun is rising now, you'd do well to hurry on if you want to get a full day's walking done. Follow the old path through the woods, you'll come to a crossroads in two days' time. Someone there may be able to guide you to the city in your dream." She squinted her cloudy eyes at Pela. "Do not let fear overwhelm you, my child, this must surely be a part of your destiny."
"I hope so.." Pela breathed with a sigh. "But I'll do my best to find out." She stepped back from her parents. "Mother, Father, please don't fret over me. I'll be back with all sorts of stories to tell you!" With that, she slung her back over her shoulder, and stepped past the mouth of the cavern into a much larger world.
***
Meanwhile, travelling upon the bosom of a sea composed not of water, but of millions of grains of sand, Shasa of the Desert Nomads pushed back the flap of her tent and stalked outside, feet leaving hollows in the sand with each step. The sands were already warming, though the blush of dawn had scarcely begun to creep across the heavens.
'Swiftly, then,' she thought, as she had no desire to remain out of doors once the merciless sphere of the sun furthered its progress. She raised her staff above her head and brought it swiftly down, sinking the butt several inches beneath the desert surface. Stepping back, she examined the angle and placement of the staff with regard to the rising daystar, adjusted it accordingly. She squinted through the 'V' of the staff with one eye, then the other, verifying that the sun's dome appeared just so within the fork of the branch. Satisfied at last, she wrapped both hands about the staff where the split merged and stared directly into the sun, despite the plethora of tribe lore that advised against doing just that.
Several of her tribesmen cast a glance at her as they passed quietly across the camp, finishing the necessary chores before the day became too hot. None of them would have dreamed of disturbing her; the daily ritual was one with special importance to the tribe. Several moments passed without incident, the shape of the sun slowly revealing itself as it pressed persistently above the horizon. Just as the rounded tip at the bottom peeked above the distant end of the earth, Shasa closed her eyes, raising one hand to press against each eyelid gently, and sighed as moisture returned to them.
'Small wonder,' she thought, 'that the first diviners went blind before twenty.' She considered herself among the more fortunate generations; her line had evolved to meet the needs of her people. Diviners had not been blind in several moons, unless one counted the severe detriment to night vision. The other lingering effect of the ritual was purely aesthetic. No strengthening of genes could prevent the power of the sun to sear the retina of its closest observers the same ghostly, transparent blue as the sky. It had become the mark of the diviner, and Shasa, having held the post for several summers, was easily recognizable as such. She turned to face her tribesmen, several of whom had paused a safe distance from her, patiently awaiting her answer. Shasa raised a single arm, index finger indicating the northeast.
"We're still on course. Two more nights will see us to the oasis. I'll verify at sunset."
With that, she gave her staff a single, sharp tug, easily removing it from the sand, which spilled into the place it had been, obscuring in moments the place it had been. Shasa made her way back toward her tent, ready for her day's sleep after travelling all night beneath the stars. As she reclined upon her blanket, she wondered at the tug at the back of her mind. There was certainly an oasis to the northeast, one the tribe had visisted several times before. It was not only that, however, that had inspired the direction. Pure North was the swiftest passage back toward The City, the single point of civilization with which the clan was familiar. Shasa knew the tribe would never question her judgement; they knew she would lead them to water, and that was all that truly mattered, so long as they had the provisions necessary to allow the additional leg of the journey from oasis to City. Nonetheless, she still wondered why her divining sense remained so insistent that the tribe visit that particular spring. There was nothing truly extraordinary about the water there...
Shasa exhaled, dismissing the thought as the veil of sleep slowly drew itself over her eyes. The answer, she mused, would be apparent in two nights, if not before. Until then, she supposed she would just have to wait.
***
Pela awoke abruptly as the soft murmur of night was shattered by a howl.
She instinctively fumbled around for the knife kept by her side, eyes still bleary from sleep though they were clearing up fast. She knew there were wild creatures in the woods that sheltered the Sea Cliffs from the rest of the world, but she hadn't imagined that they would come so close to the path she had been so careful to stick to. Her fingers brushed the cold metal of her dagger's hilt, and she scrambled to her feet now that she had it firmly in hand.
She squinted in the dull moonlight to make out the approaching shapes. 'What beasts are brave enough to come onto the roads..?' she wondered, pressing her body against the closest tree in the hopes that she would disappear into it. Three distinct silhouettes padded onto the narrow dirt path.
The shape of the bodies sparked a sudden memory. 'Wolves,' Pela thought to herself, her stomach sinking in apprehension. She had seen only the bodies of wolves before, brought back to the cliffs by the men when fur was needed and trade had been scarce. Apparently her silence was not enough to escape detection, as two of the creatures were closing in on her hiding place, their noses sniffling madly, no doubt full of the scent of prey.
Pela was unsure what to do, though she managed to keep her wits about her. She had never encountered dangerous animals on land, and so she could only try to rely on the same techniques she had used to defend herself from sharks - the only real predators that would aggressively attack a man in the seas around the Cliff. She could only try to keep her scent away from them. 'I can circle around and head further up the trail,' she told herself, edging away from her tree and quickly sliding her pack over her shoulders. She began the slow and methodical process of trying to slip through the dense forest brush stealthily, the dark certainly giving her no aid.
She had nearly escaped, too - when suddenly her foot came down on a fallen tree branch that had grown brittle with rot. It gave way with a heavy crack, and Pela stumbled a little with an involuntary yelp.
Not far off, three wolf heads jerked up from their examination of the earthen road, ears pointed skyward and quivering. The leader bounded towards their faltering target with a low-toned cry, the other two loping quickly after.
It was all Pela could do to run blindly away from the creatures on their hunt, she hardly had a moment to consider how far she was straying from the path.
***
Shasa sat at the edge of the oasis, drumming her fingers irritably upon one knee. Her divining staff had never failed her before. More importantly, it had never failed the tribe. Why, then, she wondered, was it now insisting that water lay beyond the oasis? Shasa was positive this could not be true; the squat, stunted shrubbery upon the northern horizon indicated the beginning of the lands between the desert and... ... ...
.... and what?
She had no idea. The elders of the tribe had many opinions on the matter, among them the insistence that far beyond the desert, the cacti grew taller than the height of three men. This increase in size, however, forced the cacti to sacrifice their spines, and thus made them attractive to demons as dwelling places. Some even believed that the Sky Devils had specifically bespelled the cacti to create a better hiding place for stolen children.
Shasa sighed, scrabbling to her feet, and planted her staff at the water's edge, verifying for the fifth time what her diviner's sense had relayed to her at sunset. Water was here, lapping at her toes; its proximity rang in her mind like a familiar bell. The sound that troubled her, however, was the tinkling peal of a different source, some distance beyond the oasis she knew. This particular peal had never registered before, not in this location or any other in which she divined. She mulled the situation over for a moment, then opened her eyes.
"Tell the chief I'll be back shortly. There's something I must see to." She called back toward the slowly-forming camp. "I'll be back before dawn."
"Would the diviner like a camel?" inquired the watchman, despite the fact that his compatriots attempted avidly to hush the question before it formed.
Shasa's temper flared; she despised the camels, integral though they were to the survival of her tribe.
"If the diviner had wanted a camel, the diviner would have said as much" She replied, the venom in her voice clearly conveying that, had she been close enough, she would have bonked him upon the head with her staff. With that, she turned on her heel and headed toward the far side of the oasis, muttering to herself.
"Ffft." the watchman grumbled. "She's in a sour mood."
"She isn't." observed his companion, who was far more familiar with Shasa's habits. "She's troubled about something."
The watchman grunted. "She could have mentioned it."
The second man shook his head. "She's afraid she might be wrong." He shrugged. "She'll be back before dawn. She always is. If she's right about whatever it is, she'll tell us. If she isn't..." He shrugged again. "Let's get the tents up."
The rest of the tribe continued settling themselves, oblivious of the figure of their diviner retreating toward the horizon, each step taking her farther into uncharted territory that begged her attention. Had they known, they would have echoed the sentiment of the watchmen: Shasa would be back before dawn. She always was.
******
A sickly grey cast illuminated the sky when Pelagia finally stopped running, and the dark forms around her took on distinct shapes as the sun made its slow approach. By the time she felt safe enough to stop and look around her, an entire landscape spread out before her, in black silhouettes. It was then that it really dawned on her.
The trees were gone. She could see the last of them, far behind her, appearing as miniature black twigs near the horizon. She made a slow, deliberate turn, her eyes taking in the flat plain of dry grass and wirey scrub brush. Her wonder at this alien terrain only lasted a split second, as panic washed over her and took its place. The vast, empty sky overhead and the desolate ground stretching out under her feet became a giant maw of emptiness, and it was trying to swallow her whole. Her throat constricted sharply, her mouth went dry. Wolves were one thing - an animal was a danger that could be avoided if one keeps their wits about them. But this was the terror of the unknown, an irrational, supersititious panic.
"Just keep walking," Pela told herself aloud, through gritted teeth. "Just... cross it." Surely there must be some shelter on the other side of this awful void. If she kept moving, the nothingness couldn't consume her, she reasoned. The muscles in her legs began to complain with faint pangs of discomfort now that her adrenalin rush had faded, she attempted to suppress the tightening feeling by settling into a brisk walking stride. She'd felt much worse from swimming too hard, it was easy enough for her to pretend this was the very same thing. 'There must be a road, or a village, that I could make it to by tomorrow. There's no way I'll be able to find the Crossroads from here...' Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears by this time, because no matter how many miles she walked towards the pale horizon, the nothingness continued to stretch out before her, the same landscape repeating in an endless loop. Perhaps she had walked into a cursed place, or some trap made by Sorcerors. She angrily pushed down the unpleasant possibilities each time they came up.
Keep going, one foot, then the next, just keep walking. She repeated her silent commands in her mind. By the time the very first sliver of light split the dull, pre-dawn sky, her entire body was pleading for her to stop and rest, the exhaustion of less than a half-night's sleep and the exertion of running dragged on every step like a huge stone weight. She murmured aloud, eyes squinted against the morning sun, "I can't stop. Not here..."
It was too late, her body had already decided for her. This was the place where she would rest. A fleeting thought of disgust at her own weakness for collapsing right there onto the dusty earth quickly gave way to immense relief as the weight was finally taken off her feet and her mind could finally slip into a deep, numb unconsciousness.
***
"Why are you still following me?" Shasa stopped to pry the lorekeeper with the question for the fifteenth time. "I can take care of myself."
"There are strange forces at work." answered Sidra patiently, just as she had the last fourteen times. "I want to make certain you can make your way back to the tribe."
"Nngh." Shasa answered, resuming travel in the direction her water-sense led her. She wasn't certain the stargazer wasn't right. There were certainly strange forces at work, and she was paying more attention to her instinct than the direction in which she was travelling. Nonetheless, she would have been able to find her way back to the oasis with the same sense that led her to it earlier, wouldn't she? Shasa seethed. If this turned out to be nothing, she didn't want anyone there to see it other than herself.
"Look."
Sidra's words broke into Shasa's thoughts; she turned to snap at the older woman, but was cut short by her expression of wonder and pointed finger. Lying among the scrub plants lay a girl, unconscious, three violet tendrils wrapped about her.
"SNAKES!" Shasa screamed, raising her staff.
"Shasa, that's her hair." Sidra replied calmly, passing her friend to peer down at the fallen girl. "Yes... yes, it is. What an unusual color."
Annoyed, Shasa scooted closer.
"There's too much of it to be... ... .. why, so it is. I've never seen hair that color before. I wonder if she'd sell it to m... where did she come from? Sidra, get back. She's probably a sky devil. She must have fallen from the sky."
Sidra merely pointed at the track of footprints leading up to the point of the girl's collapse, a thin line that stretched to the horizon.
"She must have run all the way from the Wilderlands."
"She's too skinny." Shasa hissed, prodding the girl with the butt of her staff. "She must have been without a tribe for a long time." She sniffed. "I think she's what I was supposed to find. Help me carry her back to camp?"
"I hope you aren't going to start finding people instead of water, Shasa. Adopting castaways is all very well, but..."
"I won't." Shasa cut in, kneeling to slide one of the unconscious girl's arms about her shoulders. "This felt a little different. Still like water, but not the same as the oasis felt. Come on, get her other arm." Sidra repeated the gesture, straightening with her friend. Even pulled upright, with both arms draped around the desert folk, the strange girl's feet dragged in the sand.
"My, but she's tall." Sidra commented. "All her meat went into tall instead of mass."
"I still say she's a sky devil." Shasa replied, although she indicated the direction from which they had come with a nod of her head. Sidra's worries of becoming lost had been unfounded; the journey had taken little enough time that their footprints still remained, two paths spreading to meet the tracks of the girl with purple hair.
"If I thought she was a sky devil, I would leave her here." Sidra answered. "Come on. We want to get back before dawn, or the tribe will be nervous."
"Ehhhh," Shasa grumbled, but she took the other woman's cue to start walking. "So would I."
Together, they carried the ponytailed girl back to camp, her dragging feet erasing their tracks behind them.
x
