Land of Sky, Land of Rain (Chapter Twelve)

Chapter Twelve: The Little House Beneath the Rain

The rain isn’t so bad, really, warm and falling rather sparsely from the darkened sky. Search as I might, I can’t find a gap in those clouds. The flat ground stretches ahead of us for miles in every direction, covered in a strange sort of pale yellow tall grass.

Ahead of us is the lamest fort I’ve ever seen, with two guards at a front gate that looks like it was stolen from way back in Yoake, and three buildings within, two that look somewhat fortified and one that could just be a house, as far as I can tell. Both buildings are raised above the ground on small stilts, the purpose of which is not immediately apparent. Iarin, ‘Raya, and Sae are just behind me, all looking as disoriented as I feel.

We venture forward towards the guards.

“Halt! Who goes there?!” One of them shouts. I really wish all the guards in this place would cut it out with the corny medieval phrases, but obviously that particular wish is not to be.

Attaraya steps forward to address the guard’s challenge, haughtily tossing her auburn ponytail over one shoulder. “It is I...” she says proudly, pausing as if for dramatic effect “Attaraya D’Nar, head of Naroth’s guard.”

“And her?” asks the sentry, jerking a thumb in my general direction.

“Er...uh... Emma. Emma, also of Naroth. Here under my jurisdiction. She’s... ah... a new recruit.”

The sentry nods, and motions as if to wave us through, but his companion, evidentially the sharper of the two, stops him.

“What’s with the hooded ones?”

I glance back at Iarin and Sae. If ‘Raya, evidentially the best guard in Naroth, couldn’t tell the difference between an Ealymian and a Sareilian, I doubt these dimwits can. But since Sae and her lot all pretended to be exchange students from Ealym, I doubt they’d believe us if we said they were Ealymian. We’ll have to think up a decent lie.

“Er... they can’t stand the rain. Really can’t. Most temperamental folks we know, they are. So, hoods. We need ‘em terribly, if we do say so, sir. They... er... know the land well. And... since we’re of to kill the Sar– er, Bleachead queen, we need them to find her city.” Did I say a decent lie? Sorry. I meant a crappy lie. Bottom of the barrel crappy.

“Why don’t they speak for themselves?” The guard asks suspiciously. .

Oh, crap. Sae’s accent, however slight, will give us away in seconds. “They’re...um, mute, sir. Born mute. A terrible affliction. Real pity.”

“Both of them?”

“...yeeeeah. They’re... sisters, you see. Muteness.. uh... runs in their family?” I give the sentries what I hope is a winning smile.

“Why are you here, though? Hralhym’s in Dara-Kozca.”

“Ah…” I turn to Attaraya to get the answer for that one.

“We’re just looking for a place to stay the night.” Attaraya explains.

“Yeah, a place to… Wait, what?” I seize Attaraya by the arm and begin to tug her away. “Er… If you’ll excuse us a moment.”

“What’s your problem?” Attaraya demands as soon as we’re out of earshot.

“A place to stay? We’re planning on just waiting around here the whole night?”

“Uh… yeah. You got a problem with sleeping, now?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. What about Koreth? We’ve got to hurry! Time is running out and you want to take a nap?”

“Koreth…? Oh for heaven’s sake--”

“For heaven’s sake what? You gave your word--”

“Ah ah ah! Don’t interrupt me! You need to face facts, Emma. Fact number one: your Spellweaver buddy has been dead for days now. Even if we turned around right now and went back for him, it wouldn’t do any good. He’s dead. Okay? Say it with me. Koreth. Is. Dead. Got that?”

“You don’t understand--”

“What did I say about interruptions? Fact number two: Koreth is not only dead, he’s not important. Big things are happening here, short stuff. The fate of nations hangs in the balance, this is not time to be going back for your boyfriend. Look, I know you’re just a kid, but this is no time to be selfish!”

“You’re calling me selfish because I want to save someone’s life?”

“Well yeah, I am! Because I want to save hundreds, maybe thousands of lives!”

“But… but…” I search for an argument, but none comes to mind. I can’t say anything. Because Attaraya’s right, and the knowledge descends on me with all the grace and tact of a ton of bricks. The knowledge and the guilt.

“Fact number three: I’m the leader here, and what I say goes. So if I say we’re stopping, we’re going to stop.”

“But… but I…”

“The guard is looking this way.” Attaraya says, and walks back to the entrance. I follow, not knowing what else I can possibly do.

“Like I said, a place to stay the night.”

Evidentially I was incorrect when I guessed the second sentry to be the brighter of the two, because he says “Okay,” and waves us through.

From the other side of the gate, it appears that the building I took for a house does have some sort of fortification, namely a huge padlock across the door. Sentry #1 turns the lock for us, and we walk on inside.

“I’m afraid there’s no room in any of the other buildings. You’re going to have to stay with the Bleacheads. Not too much trouble, is it?”

“We can handle it.” Attaraya assures him. He shuts the door and leaves, but not before locking it securely behind him.

The room is small but tidy, built of stone, oddly enough. I guess there aren’t very many trees in Sareil. I haven’t seen any. The stone is ice cold, and most of the floor is covered in various braided rugs, dull in color, attempting to bring warmth into the place. A fire is on the hearth, in its very last throes, and the place glows a soft red. Oddly enough, I don’t think it’s fed by logs, but by bundles of what appears to be the dried version of the grass from outside. A neat row of beds is set along one wall, surrounded by a sprinkling of bandages, vials, baskets of herbs, and other medical paraphernalia. Over in the opposite corner, a small boy with the same pale hair and face as Sae’s lies fast asleep, and next to him, a woman in her mid-twenties who looks to be his mother is sitting, hugging her knees close and staring into the fire.

She glances at us as we enter. “A’right.” She says, her accent far more pronounced than Sae’s, “What is it you want me to Heal?” When I look at her in confusion, she turns back to the fire. “Then you are wanting to hear your fortunes or something, right? I can’t be helping you with that. My mother is the Seer, not me. She’s outside now.”

“No fortune-telling. We’re going to stay here until morning, so you keep your mouth shut and leave us alone.” Attaraya tells her in a tone of voice normally reserved for scolding dogs.

The woman shrugs and keeps staring at the fire.

Then Sae pushes off her hood, and the woman’s face lights up.

“Niiera! Coren! Des ira se hagare rie? Kurae ira ikan rii?”

Sae almost smiles. “Ah, hensia. Niiera ik ira tam. Des eta se hagare Sae Noridsemi, mes kura eta ik krayl ikan Naroth, daka des eta se mirial sen Samei.”

“Anybody know what they’re saying?” I whisper to the other two. Attaraya shakes her head looking a bit frustrated, but Iarin nods.

“Th-the woman says hi, and welcome. She wants to know who Sae is and where she’s from. And S-sae says she’s Sae Noridsemi, and that she came here from Naroth, b-but her home’s in Samei-Kozca.”

“Where’d you learn that?”

“L-languages are standard curriculum in Ealym... I-I learned Sareilian when I was three... and m-my p-parents’ work took us to... to Dara-Kozca, s-s-sometimes...” Iarin explains, stammering more than ever. She then falls strangely silent, staring at the floor, brows knitted.

The woman gives Attaraya a momentary nervous look, and when she doesn’t seem about to bite her head off, asks rather more quietly. “Have you all eaten? We’ve a bit food to spare. Would you like some?”

Sae nods, still smiling a bit. “Yes. Please.”

The woman smiles back, and brings us four small pieces of bread, as well as four bowls of rather watery soup, taken from the dying fire.

“It is a bit of a poor meal. I am sorry.” the woman says.

“Not at all.” Sae tells her. “Hensia.”

“Tamil.” The woman claps hand to her mouth, and says in Hanoran. “Oh no. I should be... more careful.” She sighs.

“What?” I ask.

“The guards. They will become angry if they hear us talk in Sareilian. It is... how do you say... it is forbidden.”

“’Course they do. Who knows what you people could be planning?” Attaraya snaps at her. She then proceeds to look very affronted when everyone ignores her remark.

“They can’t hear you through the walls, I bet.” I point out.

The woman nods. “Of course. But we must be careful, all the same. If I am to slip up... and I say to the guards something not in Hanoran, they will become angry. It has happened before. So I am careful.”

“But no more gloomy things, ena? Where do you come from, Sae? And...” she galances at ‘Raya and me, “I don’t mean to be rude, but why do you bring along Hanoradra?”

Uh-oh. Lie time again. I don’t think it’s safe to go spreading the word about Kagami all over the place. It just might reach the man himself, and something tells me we don’t want that to happen. Besides, things like my origin, Koreth’s spell, and the reason for Sae’s time in Naroth will take a lot of explaining, and I think we should be on the cautious side, just in case.

“Umm... my friend and I...” I point to Attaraya, “came from Naroth. Sae was a captive there, you see, and she... told us about the plight of her people. We were sympathetic, so we promised to give her help. In short, we’re traitors.”

Attaraya lets out a little shout of dismay. I kick her. “What’s with you?”

“It’s true,” she squeaks, “I’m a deserter...”

“You only just figured that out?” I roll my eyes. “Sorry, ma’am. Anyway, we... bribed a Teleportation caster to send us here, and in the morning, we head to join the army in...” I glance pointedly at Sae.

“Eh? Oh. Dara-Kozca.”

“That’s the place.”

“That’s very kind of you,” says the woman, “but I’m afraid you’re going to be wasting your time.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s just hopeless. I bet even the Hralhym seems to think we’re probably going to lose. We’ve got to be brave, we’ve got to keep trying, but in the end, we’ll all come to nothing. You’re better off in Naroth where you can enjoy your victory, not here, where you’ll all end up a bunch of slaves.”

“Is it really going that badly?” I ask Sae.

“That badly? Just wait until we get to Samei-Kozca. She’s too optimistic. Slaves? Hah. We’ll all be dead, is what we’ll be. Dead or worse.” She puts her empty bowl down awkwardly with her left hand.

“That… that might be true.” Zenna picks at some lint on her skirt, looking even gloomier than before.

Away from the fire, the child stirs and sits up, mumbling something in sleepy Sareilian.

His mother looks panicked, suddenly. “Shh, shh...” she whispers. “Hanoran, okay. Remember, speak Hanoran.”

“I don’t want to. I’ll say what I want to say.”

“Yes, but the guards...”

“Who cares about the guards?” he demands, voice rising. His mother keeps gesturing for him to be quiet. “You said, in Natvise, you always said that we should be glad to be who we are, that no matter what we should be proud of it.”

“That was then.” the woman says quietly. “That was then, Ameik. Now, it is better to forget about how things were before, maybe. Now please, go to sleep, okay? It is late.”

Ameik glares at her. “Fine, Ara. Or Mother, whatever.” he says with a faint air of contempt. He rolls over to face the wall, not looking at her.

The woman looks over at him sadly. “I worry, sometimes. That child is too proud. He’ll be his own death someday. Maybe we are all too damn proud, too pleased with our selves to sit down and let Hanora take whatever it is they want so badly. It’s said they want to be like the... the... hakudra... Kuarthians. Perhaps we should let them, rather than fighting like spoiled children. I don’t know.”

“You came from Natvise?” Iarin asks, “Y-you’re a long way from home, aren’t you?”

The woman smiles softly. “Yeah...” she says, “a long way. I was born and raised there, you know. Beautiful city. By the sea. I suppose you’d find it a bit dreary, with the rain, and all, but... well... I’ve always liked it. And it’s beautiful at Rainhalt especially. I... don’t think I introduced myself? My mother is Lindel... I’m Zenna Lindelsemi. Not sure about... about Ara se... Mother’s last name. I never knew her family.”

“Why not?” I ask, curious.

“She moved to Natvise before I was born, alone. Not sure why... Family argument, maybe. She’s a Seer, or claims to be. My dad, he was a Healer, but he died when I was littler than Ameik…. Anyway, I can Heal too, which is nice and all, but I was never too good at it. It’s in the blood, Healing is, and I guess there’s not enough of it in my family for it to count. So I never really thought of my Healing as anything special. Lived a normal life, got married, had kids. Twins. Ameik, here, and Maika. Ameik has Healing, like me, but Maika took after her father. Didn’t have any magic. So when the Hanoran soldiers came, they killed ‘em both, of course. …They weren’t useful, I guess…” Zenna falls silent again, watching the fire.

Attaraya looks as if she really wants to say something rude and ignorant, but Sae gives her a glare that forces the remark back down her throat.

Unexpectedly, Zenna begins to talk again. “Then they were bringing Ameik and me and my mother to this place, and Ameik and me Heal all the wounded they bring in, and Mother is predicting what’ll happen for all their battles and the like. They keep us alive because we can do that. We know that is helping the Hanorans, but what choice do we get? The kid says we need to fight back and be proud and all that, but how? Mother says it won’t make any difference, and I’m starting to believe her. We’re just three people, what can we change? Besides, what can we do? Nothing, at least nothing that’ll leave us all alive and safe at the end of the day. Maybe we’ll get away someday. Maybe not. You know? If the Hanorans want to play at empire, let them go ahead. Someday, they’ll see their own mistake.”

“That’s not true.” Attaraya says suddenly.

The four of us stare at her, and she glares right back.

“Don’t speak about the Republic like that.”

“Why not?” Zenna asks sudden venom in her voice, “it’s the truth, ena?”

“No. No, it’s not! We’ve been kind to you... you freaks, no matter how undeserving you may be. We are a civilized people, ones who care for all the civilians, Bleachead or not, and we would never do such things. You’re lying! You should be grateful that the Republic has left you alive, despite your sins.”

Zenna looks at her coldly. “I’m afraid you were misinformed. It’s late, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?”

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Blargh.

I think I just found my new least favorite chapter.

I've been editing this chapter like crazy, it's barely even recognizable anymore, but the dialogue is still stiff, the info-dumping is still dumpy, and the whole thing is still sorta... pointless. So... yeah. That's why it took so long to get it posted.

I don't know if this just needs a straight rewrite... or... ugh. I'm at rock-bottom confidence for this whole trilogy now. It's just not working.

In any case, rip it apart, because I honestly have no idea how to make this... disaster any better. Thanks for all the critique so far... I'm still amazed people actually read this thing. XD You guys have helped out a lot.