Iravi's Travelogue

Serina

I often dreamt in those first weeks in Gavic, dearest readers, but it was so much more vivid that night after our first feast. Knowing as I do now what was to come, all of what was to pass, it seems to me that it was more of a vision. But then, it was just an intensely vivid dream.

A churning storm cloud filled my sight in every direction. It took a moment to realize I was floating within it, surrounded by it, and I felt lost in the churning chaos. Objects resolved from the clouds: specks of rock or guttering embers of magic. More features appeared the harder I looked, like rubbing sleep from your eyes after an exhausting day.

And then there was a vast and glittering crystal amongst the tumbling and unnatural wreckage. I remember not questioning its existence, as if it had always been there, and I'd just then noticed it. It was a golden-bronze hue, like honey catching sunlight, and it glittered as it refracted the light from the magic flaring all around me. Another light pulsed from within it, throbbing like a needful heartbeat.

Something changed, and my dreaming gaze was drawn beyond it, into the depths of the churning blue-black clouds. It, whatever it was, moved deep within the storm, uncoiling like some disturbed serpent, but I could not see it. It wasn't a shadow or blackness, but a void: I could only know that it was there by the absence of anything else, by the way the storm recoiled away from it. Then, growing ever larger, it swam towards me, and the only thing between me and the non-existent leviathan was the throbbing crystal.

A glowing, burning fist banged against the inside of the crystal, and a feminine voice screamed in desperation.

I woke drenched in sweat, but neither of my lovers did more than stir slightly and grumble in their sleep. For a moment, just a moment, my hand waved and twisted in front of my face, glowing like the sun, but it wasn't my will that moved it. Instead, a strange film pressed against my thoughts, like oil sheened over water, but it slipped away, and my skin dulled back to its tawny hue.

Fear and unease raced through me. From the moment I'd first felt the goddess' touch, I'd been searching for answers, unsure of any of the strange sensations and powers growing inside me. Everyone I'd questioned, and every vision I had, did the opposite. I understood less that morning than I had while crying in my father's hut in Wakh.

They looked too peaceful, spared from the worries of caring for our little band, dealing with the Kroyu, and looking after me for me to wake them selfishly. So, I slipped on my stained and threadbare dress, that by then came up just past my knees, and stretched the aches out of my body. Perhaps, I thought, the Kroyu could make us new garments to replace the half-shredded vestments each of us wore.

Even though I'd awoken far earlier than my lovers, it seemed like the entirety of the Kroyu had already gotten up and greeted the day. I clambered out into the frigid morning, immediately shivering and glancing around in the morning gloom. Youths carried hide buckets or tightly woven baskets of water up from the creek, yawning as the mists swirled around them. Young mothers carried small nuts -- acorns, apparently -- from the surrounding woods and passed them off to the elderly and infirm, who set about shelling them and grinding them into a fine powder. The young men, it seemed, had all left already to add to Leotie's stockpile of food and wood.

I shivered again and huddled low by the large fire at the center of the village, where Kiravi had sworn his oath on our behalf. For all of his rough edges and sometimes foolish bravado, I loved how he took care of us and easily assumed the role of guiding us through the world. Kiravi was Kiravi, and he was what we

both

needed.

"

Chi-gat-a?

" A wizened Enges woman called to me from beside one of the other huts. "

Rus, chi-gat-a?

"

I peered at her, smiling through chattering teeth, "What, grandmother?"

She smiled, showing off toothless gums, and beckoned me over. She draped a dusty, dark pelt over my shoulders before taking my hands in hers. Half-a-dozen tools lay on a leather pad in front of her, and she showed me each of them in turn, explaining them and chattering away in the Gavican tongue.

Each piece of knapped flint, polished bone, or antler seemed to have a different purpose in processing the small mountain of acorns beside her. With a speed and mechanical efficiency belying her age, the ancient Kroyu grandmother cracked open one nut after another by placing them into a river stone with a gap drilled into it, then smashing down with another palm-sized rock. At her urging, I took another set of tools and uncertainly tried to mimic her movements. It was unfamiliar but not entirely different from how I'd processed maize and quinoa only a year before.

Something cold and wet bumped into my elbow, and I yelped in surprise. A curious dog circled around me, coyote-like ears half-folded back and fluffy tail wagging uncontrollably. "If grandmothers and dogs approve of someone, I suppose the rest of us should too." Tukyo smiled down at me as he followed the enthusiastic pup and squatted down in front of the two of us. "Up before your friends?"

I hesitated for a moment. The Kroyu seemed peaceful and honest, but they were different, and they were hiding things from Kiravi and from us. But, as I know Kiravi has written elsewhere and I've learned about myself, I was trusting and naive back then. "I couldn't sleep. I've...rarely had a truly restful night since we left my home."

Tukyo crouched down and muttered something encouraging to the curious animal. It wriggled its way over to me, shoving its long head into my lap and staring up at me with its amber eyes. "It's hard to sleep when you're searching so...desperately for something."

"I didn't say that I was in search of anything."

"You didn't need to, child." He muttered a few more words that sounded like the ones Leotie used during her morning meditations. Blue magic flared gently along his fingertips. "Your...companion speaks with the Kwarzi here every day. Kwarzi that I know like my own children. They whispered to me about the three of you from the moment we came out of the high hills."

I stopped scratching at the dog for a moment and looked down at it, trying to sense if it held the same supernatural intelligence as Niknik, "Is this your bonded companion?"

He laughed, deep and rich, and patted the dog's haunch, "In a way, but not in the way your friend is bonded to her beast. He's just my good friend, even when he steals some of my pemmican when I'm looking the other way." He looked up and smiled at me, "I commune with them differently, directly, instead of through a specific bond." The smile wavered, and sadness touched the corners of his reddish eyes. "The Kwarzi know you and your friends are searching for something. So, what is it?"

I sighed and frowned, thinking back to my confusion and frustration when I woke up. "This, grandfather." I pointed at my eyes, "And this," I reached inside of me like I'd practiced with Kiravi and drew a small amount of my magic through my fingers. The red-orange motes of energy flickered and wavered, and the grandmother gasped and made some symbol with her hands. "I

need

to know why the gods touched me."

His eyes had widened slightly, but he nodded slowly, "The Kwarzi told me that you hold power. The priests from our homeland didn't help you?"

"

Couldn't

help me," I said, "Or wouldn't without a price. So, I'll keep searching for an answer."

"Would it surprise you to hear that I am searching for something as well?"

I almost nodded, but then remembered the wailed prayer sung at our arrival. The sheer melancholic desire from the memory sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the cold. "No, grandfather. Your people are hurting for something."

"We are," he sighed and sent the panting dog trotting away. "The gods are silent here, young seeress. Many of the Kwarzi have fled or faded away, and we pray desperately to those that remain. So, yes, I'm searching too, for someone or something to help us, and for the reason that everything else has abandoned this place." He closed his eyes, and my conduit tingled as he pushed more magic out of his. "The question is, Serina, would you like to search for those answers with me?"

I could feel myself blush while I considered his words. "I'm barely able to control my magic, grandfather. I don't know how much help I could be."

"Yet you've lent that raw power you carry to your friend when she speaks with the spirits."

I laughed and blushed further, "Then yes, grandfather. We can try and search together." A flush of excitement went through me at the possibilities, tempered by all the confusion and failures I'd suffered in the last season. I certainly didn't tell Tukyo, and I hoped the Kwarzi had hidden from him, the other method I'd used to power my meditations. I'm sure there were already suspicions about the three of us - Leotie and I had both been clutching onto Kiravi - but that didn't mean I wanted this affable but ultimately strange man to know that my most potent visions came at the moments of purest ecstasy.

We didn't get started immediately, both of us having many other things to do that day. He was pulled away by the council of elders, and I set about gathering a meal for my lovers. They eventually stumbled out into the thin gray sunlight, coaxed along by the scents of roasted meat and frying acorn dough, and grinned at me when they saw I'd thought of them.

"Thank you, lover," Leotie yawned but kissed my forehead gently. Her eyes quickly narrowed, "But I don't like you being out here without me."

"I spoke to Tukyo. Everything is fine, darling." I held her close, warmed and comforted by her stature and strength. "He's a shaman and said he knew about us from the same Kwarzi you speak to."

"Well, maybe I'll ask the Kwarzi about him as well," she grumbled, clearly uncomfortable at having any personal knowledge spread beyond her control.

"He's going to try and help me," I said, shrugging even while still clinging to Leotie, "Hopefully more than the priests did."

"Couldn't be worse than those haughty Ettuku bastards," Kiravi yawned again and tapped the side of his wild mane of uncombed hair. "I still remember your time there."

Leotie grumbled protectively but released me to seize another morsel of food. "Well, be careful." She glanced over at Kiravi, "I'm still not certain about staying here, but someone just wants us to linger wherever he can find a roof."

"Leave him alone," I teased and prodded Leotie in the ribs. "They're good people. And Kiravi can't help that he's a soft-hearted city boy."

Leotie barked with laughter, and Kiravi just chewed and rolled his eyes. She turned to look down at me, "I'll decide if they're good people once I know what they're not telling us," Leotie said, and Kiravi gave a sleepy grunt of approval. "In fact, that's what I'm going to try and find out. Today." She turned to our protector and leader, who was still rubbing sleep from his eyes, "And what is your lazy self going to do?"

He grunted, "Vent all my annoyance at you by obliterating a few more trees, perhaps. Beyond that, I might have a word with that medicine man of theirs. If he studied in Tebis, we might be able to trade magic for magic, or magic for whatever bounty these Kroyu might have." That damnably handsome twinkle of mischief crossed his face, "If things were different, perhaps I'd trade magic for a woman?"

"I

will

kill you," Leotie growled, and Niknik prickled empathetically. "You're lucky you're useful."

"And you're free to use me whenever you please," he teased back, drawing a punch to the ribs. A flash of heat went through me at seeing their aggressive courting and easy banter, and I found myself wishing we hadn't been too tired the night before to enjoy each other. I knew - I still know - that we would be happy and home so long as we had each other.

After a moment of hesitation and some encouragement by Kiravi and me, Leotie departed into the misty morning with the last knot of hunters, led by Gohika. Kiravi gave me a last peck on the forehead and trotted after a group of youths and elders already gathering whatever firewood he'd missed in the past weeks. Which, to be honest, dearest readers, was quite a bit.

"Well, young seeress, shall we?" Tukyo asked from the doorway of his hut while his pup did its best to wrap itself around both of my ankles and trip me into the dust.

I swallowed nervously and nodded, unsure exactly what his help would accomplish. "Where will we go?"

He smiled and hooked his arm through mine to lean on me for support, "There is a place close by, on the other side of the creek, that the remaining Kwarzi hold sacred." We walked at his sedate and limping pace, down the banks and over the rock-strewn stream, and he tried his best to hide an embarrassed mask of shame and exertion while we climbed up the far bank.

"Age is nothing to be ashamed of, grandfather," I murmured.

"Exactly what a kind youth would say," he smirked at me, catching his breath. "I was once the greatest hunter of the Kroyu, raider of the borderlands and low country, champion of the Kwarzi. Now a pretty young seeress waits for me as I catch my breath."

"And my father was the clenched fist of the Emperor, who broke the Nizan lines at Mehta with his mighty spear," I cooed back at him, "Or so he would tell the village many times after many beers. You are both still those things, and wise Grandfathers as well." I patted his arm, and we continued.

A strange look crossed his face, followed by a broad smile, "Perhaps such kind words and optimism are what we need now, child."

"What troubles you, grandfather?" I pressed even though I knew it was Leotie who was seeking answers.

"Perhaps I'll be able to show you in a moment," he said. We pressed on, not terribly further, until we reached a hollow in the rolling hills that was well sheltered from the constant sea breezes. "This is the place."

Broken and shattered bedrock surrounded the small, low area. Some ancient and incredible heat had scorched it, and the moss and lichen I'd seen everywhere else refused to grow upon it. A single oak tree grew at the center of the bole, gnarled and wizened with impossible age. Its limbs arced and swept away from the distant coast as if growing in a perpetual gale. Black streaks and strange growths marked the windward half of its trunk, and only half its limbs bore sickly and thin leaves.

"Come child, sit," Tukyo eased himself down onto a well-worn slab of rock and spent a moment regaining his breath. I sat across from him, unsure of what would come next. A chill rushed through me; shouldn't it be Leotie speaking to the spirits with the Kroyu's shaman? I nearly said such uncertainties aloud before he spoke again, "This tree lived while the gods died, and it remembers countless other moments of great suffering."

My naïveté broke through again, "But the gods aren't dead, grandfather. I've seen them."

"They are here, child," he frowned again, and shame darkened his lined face. "Child...on most days, the Kwarzi do not even hear me, nor I them. Could you...help me? The way you help your friend?"

"Of course, grandfather," his shame hurt me, as I'm sure it damaged his pride, but I ignored it. I took his hands in mine, feeling the callouses, how his finger joints were swelling with age, and drew power through my flesh from the depthless well my goddess had given me. It flushed through my veins like molten fire, turned my heart into a churning storm of power, and set my eyes ablaze behind my lids, "It's ready, Tukyo."

His hands clenched around mine, and he muttered his prayers to his Kwarzi. The air chilled around us, worse than the natural morning cold, and my skin prickled into goose flesh. Things sniffed around us, swirling in the spirit-realm of the Kwarzi that we sought to pierce. His words grew faster, more urgent, and something more than age made his hands tremble.

My eyes opened with a will not my own, and fear lanced through me.

Fat and puffy ash floated down from a sky lanced through with fire. I couldn't tell where the sun was, but

something

struggled to provide light through the thick blanket of sickly gray clouds over us. The twisted oak beside us was just a scorched sapling, clinging to a handful of leaves and nearly uprooted from the scorched gravel. Was this the past, a vision pulled from the land's memory? Tukyo's? Or was this the way Gavic's Kwarzi experienced their world?

Creatures snuffled through the ash or skittered around on top of it, each faintly shimmering with sickly blue light. Like the spirits I'd seen with Leotie in the past months, they looked like strangely rendered versions of woodland animals, though these had the added and unfortunate quality of looking malformed and sickly. A few scuttled closer to us, sensing the energy we could offer them.

"Grandfather...where...?" I asked Tukyo's seated, meditating form, but he did not or could not answer. His face twitched with concentration, and sweat beaded along his temples.

The ground rumbled beneath us, and my eyes were finally drawn to the distant horizon. A sea steamed there, littered with smoking and simmering rafts of molten rock. The smoke and steam billowed and swirled into cyclones and fickle spouts that kept great clouds of embers aloft. Everything from our measly shelter to the shore of the new sea was scorched and flattened, the trees knocked about like splinters around a flint knapper.

That force that had opened my eyes and taken control of my hand when I woke compelled me to stand. I was powerless against it, the veil of light across my eyes numbing my thoughts and filling my limbs with life. I barely even noticed the blazing aura of red-orange light that surrounded me and drew the scraping Kwarzi ever closer to me.

I, or the force controlling me, nearly fell as the ground rumbled again. A shape moved in the burning horror of the sea, rising and stretching. It was a vast skull, streaked with ash and blood, and held aloft by writhing tentacles that looked far too thin to support its bulk. Those abhorrent appendages searched amongst the steam and ash, spearing and snatching tiny and distant Kwarzi as it clambered from the sea. Dozens or hundreds more tentacles erupted from the misshapen skull's root, dragging the beast further from the waters.

It shoveled those Kwarzi it caught into its leering maw, but more than just that. The questing tentacles, thin and pale as sinew, dredged untold thousands of bones from the drifting ash. Kwarzi, bones, ash; it all disappeared into the heaving, dragging skull.

And then, dear readers, it noticed me.

My body flared with sudden magic, light surging away from me and blowing waves of ash away from Tukyo and me. The skull clattered and shrieked, dragging itself faster up and through the shattered woodlands, reaching for me. I screamed and screamed. And screamed.

"It's alright, child, it's alright." Tukyo's face swam into focus.

"What...was that real?" I gasped, trying to sit up in the lee of that ancient tree. "What was that thing?"

A sad smile split Tukyo's chapped lips. "No...and yes. The Undying One rules Gavic." He pulled me up to my unsteady feet, "It wasn't real, but it may as well have been."

I shook my head and shivered, "But, grandfather, why don't you just leave? Why stay in this land?"

His face darkened, and he scowled. "You are my guest, seeress, but you are still a child. There are things you don't know about this world, this land." He sighed, and his brief anger faded back into sadness. "And where would we go, child?" Bushy eyebrows arched over tired eyes.