“…there was a realm called Rock Territory. This place was owned by a tribe with feather-textured hair and tanned skin, people of the hammer and anvil. It was very rare to find one of this tribe that was not decent and honourable.” the man put his hands over his map, and with a brilliant flourish colour burst up to shape leaping mountains and valleys clogged with snow. Interested, a girl in the crowd paused to listen.
Aphrodite Wilds-Water looked back at the mortal she was leading and stopped with her, pushing a lock of bright red hair behind one ear. Her emerald green eyes quickly took in the story teller and his company, and with a flick of the wrist the sword at her waist thumped back into place against her leg.
“You… haven’t heard the Managka story yet, have you?” Aphrodite asked. Sam looked at her oddly and shook her head.
“Well,” Aphrodite huffed and looked around the bustling market place.
She drew Sam over to one side and into a stall serving sweet smelling things like huge wontons. Sam sniffed the air, savouring this smell. Aphrodite looked at the girl with her nose in the air and sighed.
“Two, please,” she held up two fingers and slid some coins onto the desk. The serving girl nodded. She was skinny and long-faced, with her hair done up in a white cloth that trailed behind her to cover all of her curls. When she turned to go, Sam could see the cloth moving, twisting and turning. After what seemed like much trouble, a snake head poked out from underneath. Sam recoiled.
“Why does that girl have snakes on her head?” she asked in an undertone to Aphrodite.
“She has snakes for hair, Sam. She’s a medusa.”
“I thought medusas turned you into stone by looking at you,” Sam frowned.
“No. It’s their snakes that turn you into stone, but only when the medusa wishes. A law was passed about it years ago, but people are still nervous. Therefore the head coverings.” Aphrodite pointed out several more young women around the shop.
While Sam busied herself looking fascinated out at the market, Aphrodite leant her head back and drank from her canteen – the days were getting hot. While running wet hands over the back of her neck, she took a moment to study the young mortal – a person from Earth, rather. Long black hair done into two braids, formerly blonde, dark blue eyes looking out onto the world outfitted with dark lashes – she was pretty, with cheeks typically flushed over pale skin.
“They’re only women,” Aphrodite continued. “And only young. They’re immortal.
Sam’s brow twitched. “Wow.”
“Wait until you taste their food. Now, that is wow.” As she talked the girl came back with two wonton-looking things in a large bowl, thick sauce around their bases. Each had two skewers through them for easy eating.
The medusa girl smiled at Sam and she smiled back. Sam’s grin bared teeth like a cat’s replacing the two sharpest on each row. Remembering this, she slammed her trap shut but still smiled politely with lips shut. She went pink and put a hand to her head to make sure her hat was still in place. Aphrodite tittered.
“Well, take a bite!” she said to the mortal.
“Yes miss,” Sam muttered. She grasped the skewers cautiously and took a bite, getting the red-brown sauce all around her face. Yum, it was just like sweet and sour pork! The inside was delicious and the pastry outside was soft, soaked in sauce.
“So,” Sam started after a few minuets eating. “What else don’t I know about your world?”
“That’s what I was going to tell you,” Aphrodite said. “Do you want to hear the Managka story or not?”
Sam nodded, chewing her last bite carefully.
“Okay.” Aphrodite sat back down and looked through the crowd, her sharp eyes not missing a movement. She made a noise of satisfaction and leaned forwards over the round, half-a-barrel table.
“Do you see that man, there? The tall one, with the feathery hair?”
Sam eyed the man. His hair was dark brown, and had the texture of feathers. A hammer thumped rhythmically before him, and permanent laugh lines deepened as he smiled widely and pleasantly at passing townspeople. One woman scowled at him, and he shook his head. He was also really, really tall – for a small twelve-year-old like Sam, he looked very forbidding.
“Yeah.”
“He’s from Rock Territory. They are master craftsmen and women, and as you may have learnt from Jeff over there,” - she gestured to the story teller – “It is extremely hard to find one of that tribe that isn’t decent. They usually have brown or tanned skin. And do you see over there, the girl wearing the helmet, with the blue plume?” Aphrodite changed direction so she was facing east. Sam shielded her eyes and searched, before nodding. The helmet was a gold colour, but obviously not made of the precious metal. It must have been bronze or a bronze mix. It covered the girl’s cheeks and a sliver went down over her nose, like the Spartan helmets Sam had seen in so many movies. Her eyes were blue, her hair blonde and willowy – stray strands poked out from under the helmet to wave and glimmer on the blue scale chain mail. She certainly looked impressive, though smiling; as Sam watched, she took off her helmet and a brief flash from it as it reflected the sun made Sam’s eyes water. The girl gave the helmet to a dealer for repairing – the plume had been shredded and the bronze dented by something with four claws – and the woman flicked out a white bandanna to swiftly tie around her lower face. She wasn’t fast enough to keep Sam from catching a glimpse of yellow-blue tinged gills, three on each cheek. Sam looked around at Aphrodite enquiringly. The red-head grinned.
“She’s from Water Territory. A large land, but long not thick – it has water in every shape, fashion and form. They even sleep in it! That’s why the gills.” Aphrodite lifted her brows as if to ask permission to go on, and Sam tilted her head.
“Next, there are people from Fire Territory, of the Fire Tribe. They have brown skin, and tan or blonde hair bleached by the sun. They’re all pretty short. Um, I can’t see…”
“By the man with the dogs,” Sam pointed out. It was Aphrodite’s turn to nod before the commentary resumed.
“They own the smallest of all the lands, it’s little more than one gigantic red desert. They have red eyes, as you may have seen, but they’re nice enough. Excellent persuasive skills.”
Sam liked the look of this man. Brown skin, wrinkles around his eyes, hair greying at the sides. Maybe it was just her biased attitude. As someone who was short herself, she was rather fond of people with her build. But he did look nice, as he scratched the ear of a collie that was blonde rather than black. The dog’s tongue lolled happily out of its mouth and it stood the attention for a while before whining and pulling away to bare another spot.
“They have temperatures higher than normal people. If you hold on too long you’ll get burnt.” Aphrodite explained. Then she clapped her hands together unexpectedly. Curved claws coming out of the skin under both thumbs clacked together a second later as if Aphrodite’s hands added them with short afterthought.
“We’ll never find someone of the Dark Tribe in Wilds Territory,” she said gravely, with an uncharacteristic twist of her mouth. “But they are not to be trifled with. They call upon dark magic, which they fuse into their weapons. They are also known as the Treacherous Eastern Tribe.”
Aphrodite sighed and settled into her chair, fingers interlocked over her belly. Sam looked with shock at Aphrodite’s empty bowl, then down at her own half-eaten wonton. She scowled before attacking it.
“Dark Territory is round and surrounded by volcanoes and mountains. Between the shadows and ash, they rarely see the sun. If you add the hoods they always wear, you’ll understand just how much they hate light. They have dark hair, as if it’s normal hair always in shadow, and eyes with black replacing the whites and thin, purple irises.”
“Like someone Inverting or cranking the Difference on them,” Sam mused. Aphrodite looked at her in confusion.
“PhotoShop,” Sam shrugged. She wiped her mouth and took another bite, more to shut herself up than anything else.
“Yes,” Aphrodite chuckled. “Anyway, after them it’s only us. Wilds Tribe, that is. Our normal eye colour was brightened to almost gem-like after the Managka, and our hair changes to match our defining traits.” Although she was too humble to admit it to Sam, red meant warrior and the brightness of the hair represents how skilled they were. Aphrodite leaned her head to one side to fiddle with a blood-red lock of her mane and curl it around her finger, sending frayed shadows over her face.
“And we have claws, too,” Aphrodite chuckled and put her hands side-by-side, clicking her claws together for Sam to see.”
“Wait, you said after the Manakra?” Sam twisted her mouth over the foreign word and worked her jaw like she was trying to dislodge it.
“Yes. Yes, I was getting to that.” Aphrodite said. She leaned forwards over the table after taking another draught from her canteen, allowing of course for the medusa that came to take her empty bowl away. Sam looked at the bowl wide-eyed and her mouth twitched to pronounce her naturally stubborn chin. Her eyes narrowed and she continued her assault on the wonton like a kitten on a roll of duct tape.
“Five years ago, a phoenix burst from the sky, completely unannounced. He was massive, with legs of fire opal, wings of fire and a tail of water. Around his neck was a vine, so big it reached down to stroke the ground, amused… feathers of shadow flecked with purple rustled… and he was carrying in his talons a huge pouch holding six eggs.
“These eggs were each meant for a Tribe; one was a mottled green-brown, like the forest floor hit by sunlight. This was meant for Wilds Territory.” Aphrodite’ voice sounded dreamy as she said this. Sam started a slow bobbing movement with her head that stopped when the woollen hat on her head started to slip.
“Another was a calm blue, with reflections like the golden webs sent onto a surface by wavy water. This was meant for Water Territory.” Aphrodite picked up a knife and started rocking it back and forth between her thumb and forefinger. Tock, tock, tock. Like the swinging pendulum of a great grandfather clock, the movement mesmerised Sam.
“Another was bronze, and it had a bird carved into it. This was for the people of the Rock Tribe. Rock Territory.” Tock, tock, tock. Aphrodite held the knife horizontal for a second before letting it swing down again to a different rhythm. Tock. Tock, tick, tock.“The egg for Fire Territory was constantly changing, from red to orange to yellow and back again, like an un-focused image of a bonfire. You’ve seen them before; zooming in, out, flickering.” The knife caught on the edge of the half-a-barrel table and the movement stopped. Tin clicked against the metal imbedded into the wooden planks. The red-head paused and eyed Sam’s wonton with interest. Sam drew it over to her side, almost hugging it to her chest with a determination to be admired. Aphrodite laughed.
“The Dark Tribe’s one was black with purple slashed across it, glowing. Or, not really glowing, but rather… un-glowing. Sucking light into it.” Aphrodite slapped a hand over her canteen top and tipped the leather container so it would pool in the small bowl made by skin. She offered the canteen to Sam while she consulted her memory, putting her lips to her palm.
“And one was silver.”
This comment was so out-of-the blue that Sam didn’t notice it had been made until long after. She looked up, eyes moving only, a silent question. No explanation came.
“The phoenix dropped the eggs one by one. They were each the size of a horse! At last, only one remained in the gold pouch.
“It was the silver one.” Aphrodite sounded almost surprised. “And all was silent, until the phoenix placed the egg on top if Kenass Mountain. Then there was a deafening crack, and our eyes were all drawn towards the climax of Kenass. It was like looking through a massive glass ball that made everything bigger, and it hurt – not even babies were spared, you could hear them crying. Like being stabbed behind the eyes with a serrated blade.” Aphrodite closed her eyes and put her forefingers gently to the lids. She lent her head on hand and elbow.
“The egg had cracked, and out of it stood a figure that none of us could recognise right away, even with our sight that made it as if we were standing at the edges of Kenass’s plateau. But it was female, and it had dragon wings and a tail.”
Aphrodite sighed and slipped her chin onto the other hand. At this moment, Sam finished her wonton and let out a victorious mmmpf! She held a hand over her mouth and looked sheepishly at the vacant bowl. Now she regretted not savouring the taste for longer.
“The figure touched the egg and the shell seeped down the mountain like quicksilver. It was then that we saw who it was.
“It was our goddess Encarata, who created this country and all the things in it. Her hair was a dark, red-tinged violet and her eyes red. Not bon-fire red like the Fire Tribe’s, but a clear, ruby red. A red that was deeper than a well, backlit with ruby light, and surrounded by long black lashes under sharp brows.”
“Aphrodite’s hair red,” Sam interrupted. Aphrodite laughed and her hand roved over the table to pick up a fork this time. She started tapping it against the barrel. Ping, ping, ping! Sam reached over the table to press her slim little hand over Aphrodite’s, looking her square in the eye. Aphrodite sighed but ceased her tapping.
“Encarata turned, and in that instant she seemed to face everyone in Balema at once. To this moment, we wonder how… but we haven’t been able to find out how to duplicate it. Encarata’s lips twisted into a smile, and she said; ‘Hear me. I am your goddess Encarata.’ Here she paused, and a smile flashed again over her face… it made her eyes glint.
“You see, before the Managka there were no claws or heat or gills – it was nearly five years ago. After her first words to the collective people of Balema, Encarata lent forward, and snapped her fingers above her head. With this action, she said, ‘Meet your maker.’.” Aphrodite blew a strand of hair from before her face, her green eyes following it out of view. Then they switched from the lock to Sam’s face. “The tribal eggs cracked.”
Sam realised she was holding her breath, and painstakingly forced it out of her body before her lungs started to hurt. Aphrodite scratched absently at the designs on her scabbard.
“Out of them came dragons, like Berry. The dragons all matched the egg they came from, different sizes and shapes, though. Most of them are small, as even five-year-old dragons are babies,” she added to Sam’s frown. “Some claimed humans but others ran off. There were many more dragons than could ever be contained in normal eggs that size, and just as all of them were escaping -”
Aphrodite jumped a meter up from her seat at a loud booming noise that issued from the barrel as a wooden cup slammed onto it. Already, she had her knife at the perpetrator’s throat; many more patrons in the shop and the ones next to it had pulled out hidden hunting knives, and the medusas were all crouching predatory on the ground, screeching and hissing with their hands over their ears.
“Boom,” said the drunken man. He chortled. With a small noise of disgust, Aphrodite put her foot onto his lower back and kicked him out into the street for the livid patrons of nearby Jonas to prey upon. Sighing, she sat back down.
“At that second, insides twisted and physical characteristics changed. As they did, Encarata talked over it all. She left us with a prophesy, which reads;
“In the Fifth year, in the fifth month,
With crack of chaos and snap of jaws,
They shall rise, bred by future confusion,
The Dragons, creatures of war,
Valour creatures, arise by hand of the Goddess.
Arise to your fate.
Arise to the coming.
Arise to the coming Darkness.
Arise in the hands of The Tigress,
The girl with powers beyond that of time,
Of Wilds,
Of Darkness,
Of Water,
Of Fire,
Of Stone,
Follow her to the greatness.
Follow her to the Five that shall take this world from them again.
Follow the Cat Goddess.”
Aphrodite looked up at Sam and waited. Sam’s hand slipped up to her hat.
The story’s only just begun.
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