Hunger and fatigue returned to me over the weeks I traveled inland from Khulum Pal. Whatever power Ksenaëe had filled me with had been depleted, and I was once again forced to survive. But I had ample experience, and now, with Ur-Anu in hand, I could properly hunt. I ate small creatures and slept in the boughs of the strange trees on my journey.
What direction was it? Hard to say, for the sun was never constant in the sky. It rose and set, yes, though the length of days seemed to vary. It had a smoky and diffuse quality, the fingers of its light never quite making it to the soil. The perpetual fog threw the world into a perpetual twilight.
The farther I went from Storm's Rest, the stranger the sky grew. I know now that this is the same reason the isle of Adrax vanishes from time to time: Hollows are neither static nor consistent in their location. And yes, Adrax was a Hollow like Storm's Rest, except it was one into the Third Strata rather than the First.
As the sky grew stranger, the terrain grew more familiar. The day I saw what I would recognize as a tree was a joyous one. I stared at it in mute incomprehension, a memory that had no business intruding upon my current existence. It was a scraggly, sad little thing beside the rocky trail leading from the valley in which I had unknowingly been trapped. It was so mundane, and yet I had not seen a tree in so long, a true tree with green leaves and grasping roots, I was amazed. I do not know how long I stared slack jawed, and when I started to move, it was with eager wonder.
As I continued to climb, I saw more of these trees, each one taller and thicker than the last. The air grew sultry, a great heavy cloak upon my back. The dense mist that had been hanging high in the sky descended upon me. The ground leveled out. The jungle grew thicker, trees of both kinds crowding in upon each other as I walked through the dreary, gray morning.
The mist parted and I came to another amazed stop. Sitting atop a short, rocky hill in a clearing was a narrow and tilting hut. If the size of the door was any indication, the structure was built for something human-sized, though the interior would be uncomfortably cramped. The crooked chimney snaking along the side implied a hearth, but I could not imagine the structure was spacious enough for such accommodations.
I gripped Ur-Anu, ready to do battle. I thought perhaps this would be the abode of a hobgoblin, and I had never met one of them who was not ready to cut my throat. I waited at the edge of the clearing, considering how I would approach.
"What do you see?" whispered a voice by my ear.
I whirled, gripping Fate, ready for battle. A young woman stood before me. Clad in a simple gown, the hem was gathered at her hips, revealing long, shapely legs. Her figure was an hourglass, with heavy breasts, a narrow waist, and softly rounded hips. Her ears were elegantly pointed like those of an elf, though when she showed her teeth, they were sharp like those of a ghoul. Her complexion was sun-kissed, freckles across her cheeks and her snub nose. Her hair was a bright coppery red. She watched me with bright topaz eyes. I could not tell if she was human, elf, or ghoul, as she had features of all three.
I could not recall the language she spoke, only that I understood her. I fumbled my words, and when I spoke, it was in Abbih. "Who are you?"
"You are outside my home. I should ask you."
"I am the one with the spear."
She raised an elegant eyebrow and regarded my nudity. "So you are."
"Iura? What have you found?" came another voice. Cracked and aged, it was a grandmother's voice straining with many years atop it. The door to the hut opened, and the speaker stepped out.
She too had a melding of features. She was bald, her ears round and as mine, yet her complexion was a soft lavender, though wrinkled like a prune. Her breasts were small, her hips wide, and she had a fine nest of wrinkles about her still luminous blue eyes. She leaned heavily on a gnarled walking stick.
"A man, Chala," the young woman said.
"I can see that. What is he doing here?"
"We haven't gotten that far."
"So get there," said a third voice. This one was full and lush, carrying years but not so many she bowed under their weight. She stepped out from behind the small hill where the hut sat. She was middle-aged, her grayish skin marked with the first wrinkles about her eyes and mouth. Long, silver-platinum hair hung to her waist, braided with silver rings. Her eyes were pure black, like those of a ghoul, and she had the lithe figure of an elf, though it came with the hardness of age.
"Don't kill him, Xogra," pleaded Iura.
"Whyever not? I am hungry, and he looks like he has some lean meat on him."
"Come for me and I'll kill her" I said, indicating the young woman by my side.
"Don't be foolish," scolded Chala. "She's the one defending you. Threaten me instead."
I turned to Chala, my resolve faltering in the face of their clear lack of concern.
"No," said Xogra. "This one has the smell on him. Tell us your name."
I swallowed. "Ashuz."
"He lies with the truth," Chala said absently.
"It will do," Xogra said.
"You must be hungry and tired," Iura said.
"Yes," said Xogra, approaching me. She held up one fine-boned hand. "You should sleep."
Exhaustion flew over me like a heavy cloak. My world went black as I fell into a sweetly restful slumber.
I awoke in a bed. The first bed I had been in for what felt like forever. I lay there, for a moment unable to do nothing but marinate in the unthinkable luxury of it. The mattress and pillow were stuffed with fragrant moss, soft furs covering me. A golden light bled in from another room, enough to see by but leaving behind deep shadows.
I threw back the fur over and found the rope still tied about my waist, the sweetwater goblet hanging from it. One treasure accounted for, and Diotenah's ring still wound about my finger. Ur-Anu leaned against the wall next to me. I lay back, the fear receding. I craned my head, finding a doorway. The room beyond was bathed in the flickering golden light of a roaring fire, revealing an expansive chamber hung with overflowing shelves and dark tapestries.
A shadow eclipsed the doorway. "You're awake." The voice was familiar, but deeper and richer than I recalled. It was Iura.
She knelt by the bed, and I saw to my horror that she had aged at least two decades. Her face was rounder, she had put on considerable weight. Wrinkles had made a home at the corners of her eyes. Even her teeth had become somewhat blunted.
"How long was I asleep?" I asked in horror.
"A little more than a day," she said mildly. "You must be hungry. I made stew."
I almost protested, but my stomach growled. "Please," I said.
"Good manners. Far better than the last man who held me at spearpoint."
"Is he in the stew?"
She laughed. "No." Then stopped, a frown. "I don't think so."
"Iura?" Again, a voice that was familiar, but different. Iura stepped aside to make way for the new arrival. It took me a second to recognize Chala. She was young now, her back straight, her skin smooth. Her figure was slender, even graceful. She held a clay bowl in one hand, a piece of brown bread sticking from the end.
Iura moved aside and Chala knelt now, handing me the bowl and bread. It was at that moment that I remembered I was nude. I pulled the furs up to cover my staff.
"You don't need to do that," Iura said. "You have a lovely wand."
Chala rolled her eyes. "Settle yourself. This one bears a stink on him."
"A stink?" I asked.
Chala moved, and now a third figure shuffled in. This time I was not surprised to see Xogra that aged as well. Now she was elderly. What had once been the hard slenderness of middle age became the skeletal emaciation of the elderly. Her hair was now far more silver than platinum, and her grayish complexion darker and dustier. Her wrinkles were deep trenches over her face. She handed me a mug. "Drink this."
I thanked her. The stew was delicious, though it was a combination of tastes that I had never experienced, a combination of spices from across Thür. The bread was thick and hearty, and spooned up the stew admirably. The mug was filled with a thick mead that went right to my head. As I ate, Iura watched me from a nearby chair. The other two returned to the central chamber.
"You were hungry," Iura observed.
"I have not eaten like this in..." my mind tumbled back through my time at Storm's Rest and even into my years in Axichis. There were, perhaps a few nights during the war where I had a comparable amount of food, though nothing that filled me with strength like this.
"A long time?" she finished.
"Yes." Perhaps it was the nourishment, but a question occurred to me. "You speak Abbih?"
"If you wish," she said.
"No, we are speaking Abbih now."
"Are we? I hadn't noticed."
I let the matter drop. "How did you come to be in this place?"
"We came through the woods," she said. "Do you like the mead?"
"Very much," I said, and merely mentioning it made me take a gulp. My mind was already light.
"Xogra brews it. I said you would prefer to drink from your goblet." She raised the fur, revealing not only the goblet, but my staff. Her gaze lingered longer than innocence allowed and I pulled the fur down.
"I have been drinking from it since my shipwreck."
"A shipwreck. Yes, we were wondering how one of your kind found his way here. Your goblet is a powerful object. Where did you find it?"
"It was a gift. From...from a paramour." Although the word in Abbih wasn't quite right, referring to one with a standing commitment, but it was the closest word I knew that conveyed the love and gratitude I still felt for Thalalei.
"Quite a gift."
"She was quite a woman."
"I like the way your voice sounds when you speak of her."
We were quiet then, with me finishing my food. It filled me with warmth and made my limbs heavy. I made to rise, but she held out a hand. "Stay here," she said, taking my empty bowl and mug. My mind buzzed with the mead.
I looked up, and there was Xogra, suddenly next to me like a shadow. She put out her hand, her long fingers splayed. "Sleep," she said, and I did.
I awoke, and somehow I knew it was deep in the night. Perhaps it was the chill in the air, or the blessed stillness. I rose from the bed with strong limbs and clear eyes. After a moment of indecision, I took Ur-Anu. The spear was warm in my hand. I made my way into the other room, finding more doorways leading deeper into the house.
I opened the front door into the dark of night over the jungle. The night was heavy outside, the cool air refreshing on my bare skin. I made my way down the smooth rocks into the clearing. The tiny hut waited atop the hill, showing no sign of the vast space within.
