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 Posted: Wed Mar 23, 2011 7:06 am
 :Book of Jeremy:
Origin: Bab, Ackrland
Race: Amizra Joytis
Rank: Runaway
Career: Doctor
Bio: Losing all his family due to the ambitions of others, Jaramogis takes on the alias of Jeremy Hughes, and lives as a mediator and friend to those meant to fulfill a prophecy.
Hobbies: Helping others, nursing animals to health, giving nicknames
Fears: Being caught by the Order, being unhelpful.
Likes: Birds, happiness
Dislikes: Hatred, pain, being a disappointment
Birthday: His people don't celebrate birthdays
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Posted: Wed Mar 23, 2011 7:07 am
: Beginning :
~Running~
7,000 years ago, there was an exceptional race of people. This race was small and meek, a very peaceful people that lived in a small band which was not too far from the village of Chibuzo. Ackrland is a continent in which they lived, and where many things lie secret and mysterious. If there was anything left from the ancient city of Atlantis during its great fate, it would have found refuge here. One of the greater villages, Chibuzo, meant, ‘Almighty lead the way,’ which was special for this land.
Permanent residents began to settle here close to the forests that dotted the area near trace bodies of water or in the desert by the great river of Bab, which was the gateway to where life began. The band of people that lived outside Chibuzo in their own small circle of huts wwere thought to be guardians of Bab. During that time they were called the ‘guardians’ or ‘Amizra Jyotis.’ They are often known as ‘Angels.’
The band was so small and they were easy to overlook, but that was where one could find healers, teachers and doctors. They knew how to heal any creature from any illness or injury. They were called upon for things from poison to heat stroke. After finding their partner which to reproduce, they would sprout wings on their backs as if they were doves. Though some of their powers were lost to them after, they gained the ability to fly. Even once in a while, there would be rumors where the people of Chibuzo would swear that the bachelor guardians of Bab never grew older after a time, and sometimes would bring the recent dead back to life.
Ever since the times of Atlantis, before it met its regretted fate, gifts and magic have not been unheard of; if but increasingly uncommon. Creatures and especially humans began to doubt their own power, and therefore lost the knowledge on how to use it. However, the ability to grant life was a gift that was often speculated to either be pure good or pure evil. No creature had this gift without paying a terrible price. To claim that an entire race of people could bring the dead back to life would be the same thing as claiming the race of people were either benevolent Gods or malevolent beasts with no souls of their own.
No guardian was awake that night. The Order, an alliance which boasted that all good must prevail evil and balance should be restored, decided that these were a people that were too dangerous to exist. Only 400 at most lived as Absolute Light, and the Order came in on horseback by more than a hundred and burned the houses. The hundreds of guardians awoke in fear. The women were raped, the men were massacred instantly so no guardian was given the chance to revive anyone, and the Order was sure to take no prisoners. However, there was one young man that awoke that night before he was taken. He awoke to the sound of a baby’s cry; his little sister in the room beside him.
His eyes shot open. The room was glowing a terrible red and yellow from the flames outside reflecting through his window. He heard things getting knocked over in another room, and then his mother’s scream.
“Momma! Momma!” The young boy cried. He threw himself up to his feet, his lanky body tripping once before gaining his footing and running as fast as he could to his parent’s room. There were screams and the crackling of fire outside, illuminating his short, golden hair that parted to the left and urging his legs to move faster. Jaramogis was afraid for his life, but he had to see his mother and father. He arrived at the room where his parents slept, and he couldn’t believe what he saw. “Ah-… Mo-mma…” His voice cracked when he saw his father and mother soaked in blood. His golden-brown eyes watered with tears. He hiccupped as he fell beside their bodies but gasped and stood up in reflex when his mother’s body turned to look at him. His mother was still alive, and she had one last message for her oldest child.
“Jaramogis, r-run… Get your sister, and r-…”
Jaramogis, alone and terrified, ran to the room where they kept the baby; an eight month old, sleeping soundly in her crib. He thought he heard her crying before, and wasn’t sure why she was now sleeping so peacefully. He picked her up gingerly, and looked at his baby sister in worry. There was no blood and no bruising, but he and his sister were both so young. She was only a few months, and Jaramogis himself barely peaked twelve years old. How was he going to take care of her, now that they didn’t have parents?
Jaramogis didn’t have long to think about it. There was a ‘thunk,’ and Jaramogis looked to his sister’s window. What he saw was a man with a bow and arrow pointing right at him. The young boy ran to the exit as fast as he could, hearing a ‘whoosh’ pass his head once or twice, followed by a ‘thwap’ as the arrow hit the wall behind him. He managed to get out the room, and the young boy knew there was only one thing he could do. He would have to take his mother’s advice and run.
He got out the door and blended into the background, keeping to the shadows that were caused by the burning houses. The child was mortified by the scene of his people being tortured and slaughtered, and he had to look away. He just kept running; fading into the desert. He decided he wouldn’t stop until he made it to the small wood that was miles away. There, he gathered, he could hide in the trees and hope that he wasn’t found. But as he ran, he didn’t know that he was being followed.
“There he is! Kill him, hurry!” One man cried, and a woman beside him nodded and went after the boy. Three wolves obeyed her whistle and chased after Jaramogis as well. She tried to get to the runner as quickly as she could, but he had a good head start. Just as she was leaving the circle made from the huts, a man and woman, nearly dead, clung to the woman. “Jaramogis, go! Go, child!” The woman guardian cried. Jaramogis didn’t have to look back to recognize the woman’s voice. She was a friend of his mother as well as the mother of Jeremy’s best friend, Paalaka. Too scared to think straight, Jaramogis cried and ran faster. Those cries of desperation were the woman’s last words as the pursuer raised her dagger and stabbed both the husband and wife until they went limp, and while sheathing the dagger the murderer started after the young child once again.
Jaramogis couldn’t wipe the tears all the way from his eyes as he ran for his life, lungs on fire, and the thought of his sister’s life the only fuel he had to run with. He thought only of his little sister, with the patch of blond on her head and her big, black eyes. Normally, all eyes of the tribe were either a silver or gold. Never has a child been born with black eyes. It wasn’t strange for her to sleep through all that has happened either. There was something special about her for sure, she acted like the perfect baby, always slept, and hardly ever cried. It was abnormal to be sure, but his family saw it as a blessing. She was a gift, and not to mention, his happy, carefree baby sister.
Jaramogis heard something in the background. A howl and the beastly panting confirmed his fear; wolves. With a sudden rush of fear, he ran faster. Once he reached the forest he slowed down, hoping the trees would provide cover. He would keep running, but he was exhausted, and wolves are too fast. He couldn’t run anymore. He turned around to see if he couldn’t plead the attackers to stop, knowing from the sound of their footsteps that they were coming closer.
The three wolves circled him, snarling. He backed away a couple steps and was about to speak when he tripped backwards and hit his head on a rock. He tried to stay up, but as his eyes started to close there was the image of a blurred figure between him and the wolves. He remembered the feeling of his sister waking in his arms, and then his vision faded into black.
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Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2011 11:19 am
When Jaramogis awoke, he found himself inside a hut well decorated from the inside. The wooden items were all engraved with beautiful artwork, the poles and drawers were designed with different creatures, then on one bare wall in the dining area, there was the source of the winding vines and creatures in the room which was the carving of a large tree and lines around it indicating magic. A candle was lit in the dim room, making the carvings look eerie. The first thing that came to his mind, as he looked around, was that he never remembered getting there. All he could remember last was looking in the maw of large, ravenous wolves. He also remembered tripping and, before he fell unconscious, seeing a dark human figure loom over him, and then his sister moving around in his arms. Immediately after that thought, his priority was looking for his sister. His eyes whipped around the room; his sister, Kali, where was she?
It was just before he was going to stand up from the hay bed he laid in that he saw the dim candle catch the shadow of an approaching figure. By the sound of the footsteps, the figure walked in slow, dragging steps. The shadow revealed that this figure’s shape was crouched, and there was a low, deep sound like a light humming.
The figure emerged into sight from around a hallway corner. It was an old man with a long white robe and a blue front, a gold chain linked one side of the white robe to the other, dangling in front of the blue stomach. Gripping onto the man’s long, gray-white beard that nearly reached the gold chain was the small clenched fist of a baby girl with golden hair and black eyes. As if every step gave him pain, he hesitated before he took another step. Kali’s body was going limp, falling asleep, being lulled by the old man’s humming.
Though the man’s moves were calm and gentle, Jaramogis only thought of his last memory, and decided this man was not as kind as Jaramogis thought. He was sure that he was planning on harming his sister. “Don’t hurt her, please! My sister is so young; I promise I’ll do anything-”
His words fell silent as the old man looked up at him and gestured for him to be silent with a kind, warm smile. “Dear child, no need to fear. You and your sister are safe. I won’t allow harm to come to you here. I’m very relieved that you are awake, I was worried that you wouldn’t recover from that fall. The wound you suffered to your head was terrible.
Jaramogis lifted an eager hand to his head, and indeed, it was wrapped in cloth. The young boy relaxed, started to unwrap his head from the cloth, and sat back in the pile of hay. When it came to serious wounds, it didn’t take long for an Amizra Joytis like Jaramogis to heal exceptionally well in their youth. In fact, the wound to his head was completely healed. Taking a good look around for the first time, he realized that he never saw a place decorated so extravagantly. Because most of the time his tribe and many others followed the food and weather, houses were not so Permanent. He doubted even the clay homes of Chibuzo had decorations like this, even though that place was much more permanent of a settlement. He looked to the old man again. Jaramogis noticed that his eyes twinkled, despite how sad they seemed he had a sort of never fading glow of warmth and goodness. He almost could swear that this elder was of his own people. His own people!
Jaramogis sat up again, a sudden rise of hope and fear coming into his chest. “Elder, momma, daddy and my village, they need help! There was fire, and these people, they came and everything was on fire, and all my kin were hurt and-!”
“Calm yourself, Jaramogis,” the elder replied, “No matter how much we hurry, the outcome will be the same.”
“How-…” Jaramogis began, “How do you know my name? And… Why wouldn’t it matter?”
Just then, the elder’s face fell to a strained smile, and he laid his sister into a cradle under the large tree carving’s outstretched branches as she continued to sleep. Kali did indeed sleep a lot, and Jaramogis was only vaguely aware of how strange that was. “You must be hungry,” the elder then replied, changing the subject slightly, “I’ll make something to eat, and we can discuss affairs then. In the meantime, just take things slow. You have been asleep for almost two days.”
“Two days?” Jaramogis cried in surprise, and realized how sore and fatigued he was. No food or exercise for two days, only sleep. But then, if it had been so long, what of the villagers? He felt the tears at the corners of his eyes.
His stomach reminded him just how effective two days could be, and he watched as the elder left to prepare food. During that time, he allowed himself to cry silently, aware that this could only mean that the villagers were gone now. Jaramogis and his little sister Kali were probably the only two left.
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Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2011 11:21 am
Jaramogis managed to stop crying as he ate the rice and potato curry which the elder had made for the evening meal. He couldn’t silence his stomach no matter how many times he dipped his warm bread into the curry. His stomach was boisterous of its pain, however, the young boy didn’t say a word. He felt a part of him had died, and would feel guilty for even thinking about reviving it, as if it would mean forgetting his whole family and all his friends forever. The horrified face of his mother, the fire lighting up the culprit’s faces and the blood all over the village haunted his memory. He saw the image every time he closed his eyes. He didn’t know what to think, or how to feel. He was numb, but felt that he was supposed to do or say something; he only wished he knew what it was.
“You are very troubled. It’s alright, Jaramogis. You do not have to suffer in silence,” the elder said, fixing Jaramogis another serving of potato curry.
Jaramogis looked up at the elder, swallowing his mouthful. “I should thank you for saving my sister. She is a very small person and cannot defend herself.”
“Ah, but it wasn’t me who saved your sister, Jaramogis, or you. I saw you unconscious just inside the clearing of my home.”
“But then,” Jaramogis asked incredulously, “Who did save us?”
The elder smiled secretively, and looked down at the sleeping Kali in the crib.
“You don’t mean that Kali saved us?” Jaramogis said with a gasp.
“Your sister truly has a mass of potential in her. I can see it; she has a gift far more powerful than anyone else of your bloodline. She has been given something immensely important. Whether it will be a gift or a curse will depend on the choices you both make in your life.”
“Elder,” Jaramogis asked with another swallow of his food, “Might I ask what your name is?”
“Ah,” the elder said, “I have had to change my name, as I am also running away. Call me Solon. Perhaps one day I can tell you my true name.”
“Solon,” Jaramogis mused. Then he remembered, “How did you know my name, and what happened to…?” Jaramogis couldn’t bring it up, he felt he would cry if he did, so he changed the subject, “And if you are running, why does this hut seem so decorated? And why does an elder need to run in the first place?”
“You see, Jaramogis,” the elder responded, “I have a gift for a trivial thing as names and other such information. As for the house,” the elder offered the young boy a laughing smile, “There will be a person to see this house in the future, and I thought it would be a nice gift for her to see it at its finest. By then this forest will be desert and the world will be a different place. I’ll be sure that you have the chance to meet her.”
The boy blinked, his mind filled with even more questions. Not to mention, Solon still didn’t say anything about why he was running. However, one of the gifts of his people was that they can tell when a person is being false, and yet this elder was being true entirely. If that was the case, he was sure that asking questions would continue to just raise more questions such as; who was he expecting to see this house, and just how did he obtain this ‘gift’ to automatically know information he’d never been told? Was it the elder’s magical gift? It was harder to find in a creature than before, but some people possessed great gifts unique to their blood line.
For Amizra Joytis, it was the power to protect, to heal, to detect lies, and to bring the recently deceased back to life. Other creatures had less gifts, but no less amazing to Jaramogis. Humans, in particular, have the exceptional gift to learn and to imagine things that never once existed. Though Jaramogis and Kali looked completely human, the Amizra Joytis were not human.
It was true that after finding a lover, they sprout wings from their backs which make them look even less like a human. However, after growing their wings, they begin to age again from their prime until they may be able to die of old age with their true love, having successfully created offspring to keep the race alive. This was the idea anyway. A sure way to kill Amizra Joytis would be by raping them, taking their love, their youth, and all their power including the power to bring life back to the dead. This may have been why the villagers were tortured as such. Their gift was used against them. It was a drastic example, but gifts followed many bloodlines and came in many forms.
If the elder’s knowledge was anything like a gift, then Jaramogis could believe that without further thought. Despite him being a curious young boy, he decided to wait until he could find the words to his remaining questions about the elder alone. He might have fewer questions to ask later that way.
“It may take a long time, Jaramogis,” Solon began, “For you to get over the loss of everyone you have ever known and loved. However, you do still have your sister, and she will need you the most. I hope you understand that, even at your age.”
The child was silent for some time, eating his food silently, a few tears leaving his eyes. If it weren’t that he hadn’t eaten in days, he possibly wouldn’t have been able to eat after such news. Still, he couldn’t imagine ever falling asleep again. Not with the haunting image of the end of all he ever knew. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered finally.
Solon straightened a little in his seat, as if he had an idea. “You and your sister can come with me. It is terribly lonely traveling alone, and an old man has no business doing things alone that an able young child can help him with. In return, I’ll make sure you are safe, sheltered and fed.”
Despite the old man being a stranger, it was commonplace that elders were the most reliable sources of knowledge and comfort. Besides, he had done so much for the young boy and his little sister, and Jaramogis was too scared to go out on his own; especially when he had a little sister to think of. “Would I really not be a problem if I followed? You might get killed by those people. I don’t know what they want, so what if they followed me?”
“You are a child that asks many questions. That is good, that will help you grow to be very wise,” Solon replied with a gentle smile, again not giving him any answers, before he took the dishes, grabbed a cane that leaned next to the tree engraving and walked away into another room. The cane caught Jaramogis’s eye for a second, noticing the opal right in the center of the crooked stick.
Jaramogis blinked again, now aware that Solon failed to answer his questions again. Just then, he heard the coos of his young sister waking from her nap. Jaramogis looked down at her, her eyes looking up at him expectantly, and he picked her up, cradling her as he cooed back at her. “It seems to be only you and me now, Kali. Don’t worry; I’ll be the best a brother can be. I will watch you like a mother, and raise you like poppa would. I promise that no one will ever take you away.”
The young boy hadn’t noticed the tears that came to his eyes as he rocked her lightly, and though he expected Kali to be hungry, she made no noises of discomfort, only reached her arms up, as if to embrace him so that she may soothe his aching heart.
“You are a very strong and caring child, Jaramogis,” The elder said from the doorway he had previously disappeared, “Kali is lucky to have such a brother.”
Embarrassed, the young boy stood up and began to walk up to the elder. “Kali hasn’t eaten,” He said, “How will we feed her without momma?”
“Jaramogis, don’t be worried. I have been offering her goat’s milk, which she has taken to fondly. Also, she is of the age where it isn’t worrisome for her to eat regular, ground foods. She especially enjoys sweet tastes, though that is expected of your race,” Solon chuckled, setting his hand on top of the boy’s head and then passing him by. He picked up a roll of flattened, dried wood used to pack items away when a tribe begins to follow their food and climate patterns. “We should leave as immediately as possible. There will be people to knock on my door, and they will not be welcome guests. I must ask you to carry the pack of food for me, as my back can’t take much strain. Will that be alright?”
“Yes, okay,” Jaramogis replied quickly, thinking of what he could grind for Kali to eat. If she liked sweet things, he wondered if she would enjoy sweetened dates as that was Jaramogis’s favorite as well.
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Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2011 1:58 pm
“Open the door!” A gruff voice yelled before kicking down the door to Solon’s hut. However, though the men searched everywhere, there was no elder, boy or baby to speak of. The place still had their remains of pottery, the shelves, the bedding, as if everything would be returned to. However, they wouldn’t be, as the three headed onward. “Search the house,” the man with the gruff voice and boastful whiskers ordered the other, blond haired male, “I want anything that might give us an idea as to where that boy went. Our leader will not be pleased if we let him escape.”
Meanwhile, Jaramogis was carrying the pack filled with food over his shoulder, and his sister was curled in his arms, trying to pull at his hair and talking in a language Jaramogis was too old to understand and too young to guess at. He was curious of where they would go. Jaramogis never left the village before except to follow his mother to Chibuzo when she healed sick patients. The river of Bab was a place where all the food and company his kin needed could easily be obtained, so there was never any reason to leave. However, the elder walked with purpose, and for a man so old, it was a surprise he could move so quickly and casually. The boy wondered how long Solon had traveled before now.
The young boy was lost in thought, letting Kali tug at his hair while he kept trying to figure out why anyone would want to kill him or anyone he knew. He had heard of wars, but his people were never in conflict with anyone. There was never any need for pride, land or riches; his kin had each other, and that was all that was necessary to survive.
“You have a lot of questions, young man. I can tell,” Solon said, snapping Jeremy out of his deep thought. “I suppose since we will now travel together, and they have taken so much from you, you should be given some information about the Order. It is your right, I believe.”
“The Order?” Jaramogis asked, readjusting Kali in his arms as she squirmed, not enjoying the heat or the travel.
“Yes, they are the ones that attacked your village,” Solon replied, “For the sake of peace.”
“I thought that peace was the opposite of violence,” Jaramogis replied, his voice raising a little, “My family were peaceful. That’s what dad always said. How do you keep peace by killing peaceful people?”
“There is more to peace than avoiding conflict, Jaramogis,” the elder replied, “Sometimes in order to keep peace for one side of the scale, one must take away peace from another end. It was fear of your kin’s power that made peace choose to take away from your end of the scale, Jaramogis. It isn’t easy, and it isn’t ideal, but the Order believes that sometimes it has to be done.
Jaramogis didn’t understand a bit of what Solon meant, and he looked down, moving his arms up and down to quiet Kali with a light rock as she was starting to get antsy. “I don’t think I like peace,” he whispered.
“I don’t blame you,” Solon replied, “You have been scorned by the negative effects of peace. Neither you nor your family deserved what had happened. I won’t try to convince you from your way of thinking, though I will hope that you will keep an open ear and eye to all the paths ahead of you.”
“I apologize, elder, but I don’t understand what you mean. What paths, and how is what they did peaceful? You weren’t there, so much fire and…” Jaramogis felt his eyes tear up again. He couldn’t stop crying, he held onto Kali tightly as he rocked his whole body back and forth. The poor baby girl, she didn’t seem to even understand how much horror they had experienced.
Of all the sorrow, the biggest depression was that Kali would never meet their parents, or know the villagers. Jaramogis’ best friend was, Paalaka. Paalaka was the strongest, most powerful guardian Jaramogis knew. He was kind, gentle, smart, and could use his gifts before anyone else their age. He was dead now, despite his power and goodness. Paalaka had a little brother about Kali’s age, Umang, who was supposed to be Kali’s later partner. One wasn’t forced to partner with the other, but they would be the most advised, as given by the village’s elder.
Jaramogis had one as well; Arjuna. She was like a golden flower, and Jaramogis looked forward to spending his life with her once he reached the pique of his potential. She didn’t care that Jaramogis was the only one their age who couldn’t use any of his gifts. She loved Jaramogis, and they spent hours talking and playing in the desert flowers outside of the village circle.
However, all these people were now gone. The things he saw that night as he ran were becoming clearer in his mind. Jaramogis felt like a coward. He realized now, in the distance, they raped Arjuna. They cut off Paalaka’s head. The beasts they rode trampled Umang. Everything Jaramogis ever knew was now gone in a burst of flames. There was nothing to him now.
“Jaramogis,” Solon said, placing his left hand that was free from his cane on top of the young, weeping boy’s head, “There was nothing you could have done. You are too young yet to know how to do most of the things the others did. Not to mention, you are a late bloomer, aren’t you? You don’t even know how to heal yet.”
Jaramogis blushed, not knowing how Solon knew, but knowing he was right. He was two years late of everyone else, not like it mattered, now. “Then why is it me that survived? Two of my kin sacrificed themselves to stall those monsters that chased me. They were my best friend’s parents, my godparents, and now they are gone. I am not the one that should have survived. I only survived because I ran away.”
“But you did save your sister, didn’t you? Is she not living in your arms at this very moment? You are her hero.”
“She is the one who saved us from the wolves and the shadow figure, you said so yourself. She isn’t even a year old, and still she was able to save the both of us. My friend Paalaka, he is named by the stars as a guardian. He was the guardian of guardians, if he survived instead of me, Kali would have been safer. It should not have been me. It should not have been me.”
He kept reciting the last phrase soundlessly. All the while, he continued to cry. The three of them continued in silence, using the trees of the deeper forest as cover. It was getting more humid as they reached the mountains until they continued onward to a rainforest.
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Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2011 1:59 pm
Kali was starting to whine, she was hungry again. Jaramogis was hungry too, but he didn’t feel like eating. “Elder, Kali is hungry. She’s starting to get restless, and won’t stop whining.”
“Yes, alright. We should rest here then, and I will take out some goat’s milk and the mortar and pestle. Jaramogis, won’t you collect some boojee seeds, they will be round and black, with green rings.”
Jaramogis nodded solemnly, and set the pack down for the elder as he went in search for the seeds, Kali in one arm. “You’re starting to get heavy, Kali,” he told his sister, noticing that speaking to her, even if she couldn’t reply, made him feel better. “I’m glad that I have you with me, though, my arms can fall asleep and pop off just so long as you’re by my side.” He noticed one of the seeds, and he smiled. They were all over the ground in this spot. “You’ll have some food soon, sister. Please be patient with me a little longer.”
He picked up all the nuts he could carry, and headed back to where he last left Solon. He returned seeing the elder preparing the last of the goat’s milk, and had with him a hammer stone. “Ah, good work dear boy. Bring them here, we can crack the shells and you can grind the seeds for us while the child drinks her milk. But we must hurry, we are still being tracked. We may have to be very careful for a while, and keep moving.”
“Elder,” Jaramogis asked, bringing the nuts over and handing Solon his sister before he sat down and cracked the seeds by smashing the outer shell between the hammer stone and a boulder, “Do you know where it is we are going?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I know the perfect place to go,” Solon replied. “Just to the coast, where the air is much colder than the desert, there is a very big town. It will take a while, perhaps a week or so, to get there. However, we can spend a good few years there. It is harder to find a particular leaf when it is nestled still in a tree. We can disappear there; at least until you have learned a few of your gifts and this young woman can say a few words. It will be the perfect hiding spot, so long as we do not attract so much attention.”
“A big town? What do you mean elder? Bigger than Chibuzo?”
“Indeed, much bigger. This place is almost an empire.”
“Elder, what is an empire?”
The elder chuckled, and helped Jaramogis put the cracked seeds into the mortar for him to grind. “My dear boy, you will learn so much on your travels. Once we get there, I’ll be sure to show you everything to your heart’s desire.”
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Posted: Tue May 31, 2011 3:39 pm
~Apothecary's Assistant~
The young boy’s eyes looked upon the scene in awe. He could hardly keep contained, wanting to run to the great stone buildings and crowded streets, only kept back by remembering that the great elder Solon had his dearest treasure cradled in his arthritic arms. Kali cooed and babbled, like all little sisters do, the young boy imagined. “This is the place?” He asked the elder, realizing how much he was looking up.
“Yes, Jaramogis,” the elder replied, “This is the city of Ta. This will be where we hide.”
Jaramogis forgot that they came here to hide. The realization flashed in his mind again. His whole village dead except for himself and his dear little sister. The people that killed his village was looking for them now, and Solon who was also in hiding for an unknown reason took them into his care. Now they were here, in the bustling city of Ta, using the power of the population to become invisible in the crowds. “Come,” Solon said to the young boy, “Let us find a place to stay. But stay close, you will see that not everyone is as kind as what you are used to.”
“Yes, elder,” the boy said, suddenly feeling very aware and nervous of the people around them. They were surely different than what he expected, some were losing teeth, some had missing limbs, some wore messy clothing and he kept hearing lies. He knew they were lying, because whenever they finished a statement Jaramogis felt a pang of an unpleasant pain, as if someone had just betrayed him. That was one of the many gifts his people had, but not the one that caused their downfall.
“Elder,” Jaramogis asked loudly, trying to make himself heard through the crowds going to market and bartering about, “Why is this city named, ‘Ta?’ What does ‘Ta’ mean?”
“Ah, that’s right, you don’t know the language in this area. Well, I suppose I will have to school you, then. ‘Ta’ means ‘beautiful,’ and it is named after the wife of the first ruler of this area. The ruler was a very benevolent man with a vision for beauty. He dreams one day of a perfect land… Something that may never transpire, but his motives and the way he ruled was truly inspiring.”
“Really?” Jaramogis asked in wonder, then thought for a second, “But, why is his vision something that will not happen? If he was such a good leader, wouldn’t he have been the one to make it happen?”
“There is more to this sort of thing than a good leader, Jaramogis,” Solon replied, “People have their own free will. This whole continent of Ackrland are long descendants of Atlantis, you know this much don’t you?”
“Yes,” Jaramogis replied, “But I don’t understand-”
“All of these people have perfection in their blood. That was a place of perfection until mankind was tricked by Sin. The Almighty had no choice but to destroy Atlantis, but the creatures who live still strive for it. They all want peace, but go about it in different ways, as I’m sure you’ve realized.”
Jaramogis thought back about when Solon told him that the people who killed his kin did so striving for peace, and for a while, Jaramogis loathed the thought of peace, until days into their travel when his logic came in the same level with his emotions. His people, the Guardians, also strived for peace by healing and bringing the dead back to life, as only his people could. That was the gift, Jaramogis knew, that led to their downfall by another group of people called the Order, also striving for peace. ‘If they were both striving for peace,’ Jaramogis asked Solon that day, ‘Then why didn’t they just speak to one another and make peace together?’ Solon’s reply was a sigh, and then, ‘That I cannot answer right now, but believe me when I say to you that it would have never worked.’
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Posted: Tue May 31, 2011 3:42 pm
Jaramogis didn’t understand many things about this grand place filled with people. He never thought there were so many creatures alive in all of Harganoph. He didn’t know that it was so big, and he was in awe. He kept asking Solon questions as they passed elves, brutes, unicorns, shape-shifters, and other creatures that baffled him. By sunset, they acquired a small home that seemed barely put together, but Jaramogis immediately felt safe and secure. This was more home than he had in the weeks they’ve been traveling. Jaramogis was so worried that Kali would get sick during the trip, since he was much too young to know how to heal the sick. Luckily, she seemed to be in even better shape than himself. This place they now sheltered in had higher ceilings, and was bigger. He felt almost lost in the apartment. The floor was wood and not sand or dirt. The walls were a different clay, and overall there was nothing that reminded him of home, except for how incredibly different it was.
“Child, come here,” Solon demanded softly and Jaramogis came immediately, watching as Solon lied Kali into a bed of hay. “We must earn money, Jaramogis. If for anything, we need food and beds. All we have now is hay, but it would be nice to get her a cradle.” He gestured to Kali, who was sleeping again. Kali slept a lot, it concerned Jaramogis, but Solon didn’t look worried about it.
“I think I understand, elder. It is time for me to work. But, I have a question,” Jaramogis came a bit closer, and extended his hands to him as if showing him that they were crippled and a nuisance, “I haven’t been able to do anything the other kids could do. I can’t even heal little things. All I can do is kiss it better.”
“Jaramogis, perhaps it is for the best. If word reaches the Order about a child that can cure wounds then they might find us. For now, you might have to resort to labor.”
“Oh, like the humans in Ur?” Jaramogis asked. He himself never went to Ur, though it could be viewed from the village, but humans did come to repair buildings in exchange for curing them or someone dear to them. Many even brought goods from Ur so Jaramogis learned a lot about the humans there.
“Jaramogis, first thing in the morning, will you go search for work?” Solon asked.
“Yes elder, of course. But I do not know who will hire a small foreigner like me. I’m not like big strong humans, I’m thin and small. What good can I be?”
“Oh Jaramogis, you are a smart boy,” Solon yawned, “I’m certain that you will find something.”
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Posted: Tue May 31, 2011 3:44 pm
“An apothecary assistant?” a tall man asked as he looked at Jaramogis who stood at his doorstep.
“Yes sir,” Jaramogis replied, “I know I can do it, if I’ve given a chance.”
“Uwaaaaaa…” The bony man sighed and looked away from the boy, straightening up and looking around as if to see an alternative waiting for him. His short black hair with grey streaks shone in the light like a misty bog, and he didn’t look very tidy. A short glimpse inside his abode revealed nothing else. He was a slob, but Jaramogis had searched since before sunrise and it was well into the afternoon for a job, and he had no hope until he caught conversation about a man who was a wonderful Apothecary, but was in need of an assistant.
“I can clean and cook, I can label the potions, I can feed any animals you might have, and I can go to market if you need any errands run. I promise, I will work my very hardest for you.”
“That’s very nice, boy, but I don’t need an assistant.”
“That was a lie just now,” Jaramogis replied without thinking, feeling the sting he was familiar with since coming to the town yesterday. “You feel like you do need an assistant.”
The man was taken aback, and his brown eyes dulled a little as if reminiscing on a painful memory. “Well then, I do not WANT an assistant.”
“But it will make things so much easier for you!” Jaramogis pleaded, “Ad it must be lonely being here by yourself all the time, I can be good company!”
“I’m perfectly content being alone.”
“That was a lie as well,” Jaramogis replied, lowering his voice again. “You’re lonely, but you won’t be if I work for you. Then you will have someone to talk to all the time.”
“I don’t have the money to pay an assistant.”
“You’re lying again.”
“Stop doing that!” The man suddenly shouted irritably and Jaramogis clamped up immediately. “How do you keep doing that? Why do you keep doing that? You don’t even know me, let alone, you look like a foreigner. You are a child, and in no way qualified to work in a job as dangerous as this.”
“I’ve worked around potions before, my momma…” Jaramogis stopped, and realized that it hurt more to bring up his mother than to hear a lie. The image of his mother, bloodied on the floor, pleading him to run away with her last breath. “I’m sorry. Sir, please forgive me. I’m just so desperate, elder Solon and my baby sister cannot work, and I’m all that is left. Nowhere will hire me. I just thought that maybe if…”
The man was quiet for a few seconds, watching Jaramogis bow his head and his shoulders start to heave. “An elder and a baby sister. What about your parents, boy?”
Jaramogis couldn’t speak, he was crying too hard. All he could manage to do was shake his head as he kept looking down. His nose was plugging up fast, and it was hard to breathe, but he couldn’t stop. His whole village. Now what was to become of the elder and his baby sister?
The man watched Jaramogis cry. This boy, he could feel, had gone through a lot. He felt a connection to this boy. He realized the that he had himself an assistant. “Call me Rashid, be here before the sun rises tomorrow and I will pay you three kisos a day.”
Jaramogis slowly lifted his head, his wrist over one of his eyes as he tried to wipe the tears away. He sniffed, looking at Rashid with his big gold eyes. “Ah, I… Really?”
The man sighed. “Suck it up, boy. Men don’t cry in the open like this. You heard me, here tomorrow, don’t be late.”
Jaramogis was quick to wipe away his tears and his face radiated into a tear-streaked smile. “I w-won’t let you down sir, I pr-promise!”
“Yeah, now go on. You have a lot to do tomorrow so you should go home and rest now,” Rashid replied, trying hard not to look straight at Jaramogis. The radiance of the boy made it hard not to smile back.
Jeremy, with a quick step and an eagerness to hurry in case he changed his mind, dashed on toward the apartment to tell Solon the great news. As he ran, people looked to him in curiosity, and some women giggled and made comments about youth these days. Jeremy felt so liberated he felt he could fly. He started thinking up scenarios to tell Solon the news. Should he act casual until Solon asks, or should he burst in and shout it to the heavens? For the second choice, he was worried he’d wake or scare Kali, and he was much too excited to just wait for Solon to ask so the second choice was out. He didn’t have time to think up an alternative by the time he got there. He hurried into the apartment, and saw Solon eating and feeding Kali. There was a warm plate of food for him as well.
“Our neighbors offered us food for this meal, remember to thank them when you see them Jaramogis, won’t you?”
“Yes elder, I will, but I have some news-”
“Oh? How did you do today?”
“I’ve found work, being an apothecary assistant! Isn’t that amazing?”
“Indeed,” Solon said with a chuckle. Jaramogis was so excited, it warmed his old heart. But then his smile faded when he saw the boy’s eyes. “Have you been crying?”
“Oh, well,” Jaramogis replied, and paused. He wasn’t like all the other creatures. He couldn’t lie. His tongue wouldn’t let him. Just thinking about it made his stomach churn. “I was reminded… About what I’ve lost. Then I was worried that I might lose everything if I didn’t-”
“Jaramogis,” Solon interrupted, “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to place such a burden on you. You have to grow up so much faster than you should have to. Still, Jaramogis, don’t think that you are alone. I’m sure somehow we could manage even if you couldn’t find work. I suppose I should confess, throughout our travel, I feel as if you are family to me. As such, I’ll be sure that you are always taken care of, alright?”
Jaramogis nodded, looking sheepish now about crying. “Elder,” he continued, “I start work tomorrow.”
“Well then I suppose you better eat and then get some rest,” Solon replied with a warm grin.
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Posted: Mon Feb 13, 2012 8:31 am
It seemed like forever since Jaramogis started the cleaning. At first it was disgusting, with many rotted items and dead creatures. For a lot of them the Apothecary insisted on keeping them for various potions. “You keep too many things,” Jaramogis told him as he jarred a dead rat. The Apothecary only shrugged. As Jaramogis worked, Rashid looked at his spell books, speaking in the native townsmen tongue. A lot knew Sanskrit, like in Chibuzo, and Jaramogis knew it well, but he still knew next to nothing about the language normally spoken here. The language Rashid was speaking was called ‘Talian,’ and aside from some root words, it had an entirely different sound from Sanskrit. Jaramogis was lost with what Rashid was saying, but was fully aware from his tone of voice and furious abuse of saliva all over the items the young boy just organized that the Apothecary was frustrated. “Master Rashid? Do you need me to help with anything?”
“No,” Rashid snapped, but when he saw Jaramogis open his mouth he interrupted with, “I know, you can tell that’s a lie.” He groaned. “Your gift makes things difficult for me.”
“I’m sorry,” Jaramogis replied with a blink.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m out of Krufwheat and my seller has been out for a long time. I get the feeling however that he’s lying-…” Rashid stopped, and started to form an idea. “Jaramogis, can you sense ANY lie, even if it is a different language?”
“It is harder, but yes, I can tell. Why do ask, master Rashid?”
Rashid made sure to be cautious as to how he replied, “I believe that my seller is lying to me, but he only speaks Talian. I would like for you to come with me and tell me if he is lying to me when he does.”
“Is that sort of like cheating?” Jaramogis asked.
This was a tricky question to answer. After all, the boy could tell when what he said was a lie, and it WAS cheating since Rashid had no intention of telling his Krufwheat provider about his new assistant’s gift in disguise. He could put up with this nuisance if only the Apothecary knew how to use it to his advantage. “Jaramogis, what you are doing is providing me with the knowledge I require to keep doing my job. As my assistant, isn’t it YOUR job to keep me in business?”
“Yes, I suppose that is true,” Jaramogis replied, and was about to say more, but Rashid’s raised eyebrow made the boy’s mouth clamp shut. Jaramogis still felt unsure, but Rashid was kind enough to offer him this job. He would be a terrible assistant if he didn’t follow the orders of his employer. “We won’t hurt anyone, will we?”
“What do you take me for, Jaramogis. I will not harm anyone. I am a non-confrontational creature by nature.”
“That is a lie.”
“What I MEAN to say is; you are only giving me information. Tug my sleeve once for the truth, and twice if it is a lie. I don’t intend to harm anyone, I only want my Krufwheat. Does that sound fair?”
Jaramogis nodded. It didn’t sound that bad, especially if the Krufwheat was supposed to be Rashid’s to begin with. He didn’t know what Krufwheat was or what it was used for, but he figured that he would know soon enough. “Okay then, I will pull your sleeve once if whatever he says is the truth, and twice if it is a lie.”
“Good lad,” Rashid replied, ruffling the boy’s golden hair. “I knew that you would not disappoint me. Get my bundle and we can get going.”
Jaramogis reached for Rashid’s bundle of quick medicines and pain relieving herbs. He followed half-running to Rashid’s long strides. He looked like an odd golden duckling following a brown-eyed and black, matted-haired hawk. The hawk was on a mission, and the duckling could only waddle close behind.
It only took a moment or two to make it to the biggest crowd of the market. Jaramogis had never been around so many people at one time before. He felt as if he would never find the end, and felt as if he was going nowhere. He stopped suddenly, having lost sight of the apothecary. “Master Rashid?!” The boy cried out in desperation.
He felt his heart racing, but before he could cry out there was a hand that gripped his arm and pulled him sideways. Once out of the crowd, he noticed that it was Rashid that pulled him out. “You need to be more careful,” Rashid mumbled to the boy, “I can’t pull you out of every crowd you walk into.”
Jaramogis nodded, rubbing the arm Rashid pulled. For an apothecary, the man had rough hands and wasn’t as gentle as Jaramogis imagined healers to be. “We’re almost there,” Rashid added as he crept around the back of a cart. Jaramogis followed close by, but wasn’t feeling any better about sneaking around.
Behind the cart there was a separate cart filled with different potions and herbs. Each potion was kept in leather sacs or wooden vials. The labels were in a different language than what Jaramogis knew. A big, balding man came up to them talking excitedly Rashid’s way. The man’s twinkling brown eyes shone brighter than his head as it peeked out of the gray, possibly once black, hair. Jaramogis had no idea what the man was saying, but by the feeling of Rashid putting Jeremy’s hand on his robe, it meant that Rashid was ready for Jaramogis to spot some lies. Rashid was grinning back at him and greeted his old supplier in his native tongue. ‘Good to see you, Corick, have you any new items for me?’
‘Rashid, you old fool,’ Corick chuckled back, ‘Just in stock, I have sheep wool and liver. I know how much you enjoy using the liver.’
‘Indeed, you know me too well,’ Rashid responded.
Corick spotted Jaramogis staring up at him and he chuckled. He pointed to the boy, ‘Is that one of yours, Rashid? I thought you didn’t have any more children.’
Rashid was glad at that moment Jaramogis had no idea what they were saying. Rashid rolled his eyes, ‘He is a new assistant. Try not to scare this one off old friend.’
‘I will certainly try,’ Corick laughed. ‘So what will you take today?’
‘We didn’t come for anything less of a visit, Corick,’ Rashid replied with a smile. He then felt two tugs of his robe. Rashid looked down at Jaramogis a little irritably. “No, only when HE lies, Jaramogis.”
‘Hm? That language, is your new boy a foreigner?’
Rashid looked back at Corick, ‘This is true. I hope to help him learn our language by coming to market with me.’
The grip Jaramogis had on Rashid’s robe tightened, but he did not tug. It was awkward and difficult for him to be here. He kept trying his best to pay attention to the men, but he found it stressful to not know what they were saying. He could tell they were talking about him by the way Corick looked at him. Jaramogis wasn’t too afraid of the large armadillo of a man. He had a smile and twinkling eyes that made Jaramogis feel like the man was kind at heart. He certainly seemed much friendlier than Rashid looked, so Jaramogis didn’t know exactly why the man made him nervous.
‘Speaking of new things, Corick, I don’t suppose that you are still out of krufwheat?’
‘I am sorry, Rashid, but I don’t have any that I can give you.’
Jaramogis tugged Rashid’s robe twice.
‘Why not? Surely by now you would have gotten more from the trade route.’
‘I am sorry, Rashid. I haven’t had any Krufwheat come in to my market for months.’
Two tugs.
‘Ah… But… If you were to have more, I would be the first you would give it to, right?’
‘Believe me, my friend, you are my most favorite customer, and if I could, I would sell to you all the Krufwheat I could gather.’
Jaramogis hesitated, then tugged once.
Rashid was silent for a moment. ‘Corick, are there any debts you must pay to anyone? I do know how you enjoy to gamble.’
‘Why do you ask, Rashid? That is not any business of yours.’
‘Just to dull the blade of my curiosity friend, please.’
Corick smiled again, except it didn’t come as naturally as the smile before. Jaramogis noticed that Corick would squint his eyes when he faked a smile. ‘I have no debt to pay anyone, Rashid. I am careful about those things now that I have a wife with child.’
Two tugs.
‘How is your dear wife, by the way?’
‘She is fine,’ Corick replied, ‘We are both sure the child will grow strong and healthy.’
Jaramogis tugged harder, and four times. The look of Corick’s pained smile hurt him, and he wished that he could help him. As far as he knew, whatever Rashid was saying could be the reason Corick was so uncomfortable. It pained him to think he was helping Rashid hurt Corick, even if it wasn’t physical.
‘You will be sure to come to me if anything is wrong, won’t you Corick? I would be nothing without my favorite supplier… Even if he upsettingly has no Krufwheat for me to use on my pain reliever potions.’
‘Believe me, Rashid, if there was any way you could help, you would be the first person I would trust. You are a good person and a fine apothecary.’
One tug.
“I believe you meant to tug twice on that last comment, Jaramogis,” Rashid muttered to him lowly.
“No sir,” Jaramogis replied, “It was the strongest truth I’ve heard yet.”
‘What is the boy saying?’ Corick asked, his smile returning without squinted eyes.
‘I’m afraid he hasn’t eaten yet. Would you excuse us, friend? I will see you soon, but I believe I have tortured my assistant long enough.’
Corick laughed, ‘Now that I know you have an assistant, I will start keeping treats with me for when you arrive. Do you suppose the young man likes candied dates?’
‘I will ask him for you friend,’ Rashid replied then turned toward Jaramogis, “Corick would like to know if you enjoy candied dates.’
Jaramogis beamed, no longer feeling uneasy about the situation. His smile was practically spread from ear to ear. He was about to speak, but with a chuckle Rashid motioned him to be silent. “I believe Corick got his answer.” Indeed, the smile on the boy was understood in all languages as a universal ‘yes.’ Corick’s body jiggled with laughter, which had Jaramogis laugh. Rashid only smiled, secretly soaking in the energy of this moment of good health. He hadn’t seen his old friend laugh with such mirth for a while.
With a firm pat on the man’s shoulder, he turned Jaramogis away with him and began to walk back to his hut. Jaramogis didn’t have the bravery to speak, and Rashid had nothing to say until they were in sight of the hut. However, all the way there, Jaramogis thought of Corick’s laugh and he couldn’t keep from smiling until Rashid did finally speak, and he was brought back to reality.
“Corick normally acts shifty about certain items when I need them and they are short in supply. I always thought it was because he had a better buyer than me, but I’ve known about his obsession with gambling for years. Perhaps the two instances are not as distant of occurrences as I thought.”
“Sir?” Jaramogis squeaked, unsure exactly what Rashid was saying. Jaramogis didn’t know what gambling was, but if one could have an obsession about it, then it couldn’t be anything good.
Rashid looked down at Jaramogis as if seeing him for the first time. He grinned, and then put his calloused hand on top of the young boy’s head. “You did great work today. You may go, and I will see you tomorrow.” Rashid dug in his pocket for three kisos.
“Is that really all?” Jaramogis asked incredulously.
“You can finish your cleaning tomorrow. For now, it is best you go play like a normal boy. Go make some friends, and give your elder my warm regards. I would rest up well tonight, Jaramogis.”
The boy was slow to respond, but took the three kisos, nodded and responded, “Yes, master Rashid; tomorrow then.” He turned around and hurried out the door, eager to give his first day’s pay to the elder and tell him about his day. Perhaps Solon could even enlighten him as to what Krufwheat was and why it was so important to potions.
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Posted: Thu Feb 16, 2012 7:45 pm
“Krufwheat is a plant whose leaves can numb pain. It’s common in still water areas, so it’s hard to come by here. It often relieves pain for internal muscle-related pain such as sore muscles, arthritis or child birth. Why do you ask, Jaramogis?”
“Well,” Jaramogis replied to Solon, “Master Rashid said the man who gives him supplies is lying about having some.”
Solon picked Kali up who was whining and most likely needed to be fed. Jaramogis’ three kisos would be able to feed them for the day, and a little would be left for compensation to those who owned the complex they lived in now. It wasn’t much, but it would keep them alive. “Elder, why do people lie?”
“Many reasons,” the old man replied, seemingly not bothered by Kali pulling on his gray-white beard, “A lot of times it’s because they do not want to admit the truth. Sometimes it is to lure someone into a false way of thinking, and sometimes it is how stories are made.”
“I do not think this is how Corick meant to use his lies. I think he was hiding something.”
Solon managed to calm Kali down when he stood up and rocked her back and forth. He gazed tiredly at Jaramogis and gave him a faint smile. “You shouldn’t worry so much about this, child. We have a while before the sun goes down. There are lots of children your age around here, why don’t you go out and play? I’m sure that you will feel better after you make some friends.”
“Master Rashid said the same thing. I guess I could, but, what do I say to them? How does someone make friends in a new place?”
Jaramogis always lived with his family near the River of Bab. All of his friends were children of his parent’s friends. They did introduction for him.
“You walk up to them and say ‘hello.’ Ask what they are doing, and perhaps ask if you might join them.”
“Is that all?” Jaramogis asked unconvinced.
“After that, things will come to you. It seems scary at first, but you will learn that it is easy, and only gets easier over time.”
“If you say so,” Jaramogis muttered, “Then I guess I will give it a try.”
“Good luck,” Solon called to the boy before he left through the other side of the door. Jaramogis was nervous. He didn’t have to look hard for children. In no time at all, he spotted seven kids playing a ball game. Jaramogis watched them for at least ten minutes, trying to gather up the nerve to go up and talk to them. He figured that he would wait for a pause in the game, but he was growing impatient. Jaramogis was sure he’d been waiting for an hour when it was only twenty minutes when the ball bounced off to the side and two of the children spotted him at the same time. ‘Oh no,’ he thought, ‘Wait, no, this might be a good thing.’ “Ah, hello,” he called out while timidly walking their way. They didn’t seem to hear him. “Hello,” He called out a bit louder.
“Hello?” One of the children repeated, and then it dawned on Jaramogis that they spoke a different language. Oh no, now all of the kids were looking his way! This was something Rashid and the elder had forgotten to remind him.
As a matter of fact, Solon was aware from the beginning that Jaramogis would have this obstacle. Not only was this a ploy for Jaramogis to make friends, but to also hopefully learn Talian. Solon predicted that they may develop a life here for a good few years, and Jaramogis needed to have a second chance at childhood. The poor child needed this second chance.
“Um, sorry,” Jaramogis said, backing up with his hands held up as if to either erase this whole meeting ever happened or to prevent the others from seeing his face.
“Kulac?” One of the girls asked; a girl with long black hair, pointed ears and a nighttime sort of blackness to her skin. Her eyes had no color around the pupils, and Jaramogis had never met anyone who looked like her. The other six kids weren’t exactly his usual crowd either. Two of them were big and brutish; orcs. One boy was a centaur, and another two were more ape than human. Only one female seemed human, but she was the farthest away and did not seem like the nicest of the seven children. He kept his eyes fixed on the white-eyed girl.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” the nervous boy replied, “I’ll go now,” he cried before turning to run, but a hand grabbed his wrist, and it was a lot stronger than he was. He turned back around slowly, waiting for the worst.
The female orc that held his wrist smiled, at least he thought it was a smile, and then put her hand to her chest. “Lusca,” she said.
“Lusca?” Jaramogis repeated, only to be rewarded with a nod and a smile from the rest of the crew, minus the human girl. Then the orc pointed to Jaramogis, “Kind?”
Jaramogis knew that word. She must be asking whether he was here on good terms. He smiled and then turned all the way to them, nodding. “Yes, kind!” He exclaimed.
“Kind?” One of the ape boys replied and laughed, in which Jaramogis nodded even harder. “Yes, I am. I’m kind. Kind!” He said, happy there was a word they all understood.
The others laughed, seemingly of relief, and the female orc let go of his wrist. The centaur walked up and gestured to the ball in his hand. “Coolah?”
He couldn’t believe it, were they asking him to play ball with them? Jaramogis smiled wide, and answered in a breathless voice, “Yes, I would love to, yes please.”
He stood with the male orc and the two male ape children, adjacent to the three girls and the centaur male. He didn’t understand the game at first, but soon he learned that the object was to hit the ball in one bounce to the other team without using any hands or legs. He was learning all their names while playing the game since each one would call to the other. The female orc was Lusca, the male orc was Voondi, the centaur was Han, the two ape boys were Ji and Soren, the white-eyed girl was Cantora, and the human girl’s name was Wirndy. Because they didn’t know Jaramogis’s name, they kept calling him ‘Kind,’ which was fine by him, though he decided that once he knew the language more than just the word ‘ball game,’ which he learned was ‘Coolah,’ he would tell them his name confidently. ‘Kind’ was a fine nickname for now.
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Posted: Fri Feb 24, 2012 2:08 pm
Jaramogis arrived to Rashid’s hut early, but he was still not soon enough to beat the line of people asking for the Apothecary’s ailments. The boy spent the better half of the morning rushing bottles and sacks to each customer, sure to not get the remedies mixed up. A lot of ailment asked for was Eufin; a mixture of items used to help those suffering from sickness after drinking hard the night before. Another common medicine was herbs that one would add to luke-warm drinks in order to lower one’s body temperature. This was most handy for heat stroke, and had to be accompanied with lots of water. Jaramogis felt sure Rashid would need this medicine himself after the line was gone, whenever that would be.
“You are very popular, Rashid. A lot of people come in for your medicine,” Jaramogis mused once the line did disappear. “Are you sure that you don’t need any of this?” Jaramogis held up one of the remaining heat-stroke remedies.
“I would do better with some Eufin,” Rashid grumbled. He put his hand to his forehead and groaned, trying to keep the light from invading his closed eyelids.
Jaramogis tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, “You were drinking last night?”
“No boy, I was testing various alcohols for medicinal purposes.”
“You sure lie a lot, master Rashid,” Jaramogis replied, his curious expression morphing into one of worry.
“My mother used to tell me the same thing,” Rashid commented, “But this time I was using sarcasm.”
“Master Rashid, what is sarcasm?”
Rashid removed his hand from his eyes and peered at the boy, “Why am I not surprised that you don’t know?” He replaced his hand over his eyes and pointed toward his medicine station. “Get me some Eufin and I’ll tell you.”
Jaramogis nearly jumped before he walked quickly to the herbs and grabbed the jar in which Eufin was kept.
“Sarcasm,” Rashid began, “Is not exactly a lie. It is a lie, but one that everyone knows is a lie, so it becomes something like a joke. You’ll learn how to distinguish sarcasm from an actual lie… Eventually… I hope.”
It took the boy a moment to put the contents of the jar into a bowl for Rashid. Whatever was in the mixture, it smelled awful. It was almost a sour smell, except it also smelled like rot and meat. It wasn’t rotten meat; whatever meat was inside of it wasn’t the thing rotting, but whatever was the culprit smelled even worse. “Did you meet any friends yesterday, Jaramogis?”
The young Angel handed Rashid the bowl with one hand while plugging his nose with the other. “Yes, I hab. We played a ball gabe; Coolah.”
“It isn’t that bad kid. If you ever want to be a man, you’ll have to get used to this smell,” Rashid smirked, “And I see that you’re learning some Talian.”
Jaramogis nodded, “Not very fast, but enough to play a ball gabe with the other kids… Do I have to get used to it now?”
Rashid chuckled, “You’ve never had a drink either, have you?”
“Ub, I do’t thi’k so…”
“Hm,” Rashid mused, and started to eat the Eufin which, frankly, made Jaramogis feel ill. “You wouldn’t have some sort of weird problem if you drank like you do when people lie, would you?”
“I don’ think so. I don’ know.” Jaramogis was starting to get nervous. He wasn’t exactly sure where Rashid was going with this, but he was pretty sure it involved doing something scary, and most likely he was going to embarrass himself. So far, Rashid was good at making him feel scared and embarrassed.
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Posted: Thu Mar 01, 2012 1:35 pm
Not long after, Rashid closed his hut and led Jaramogis back to the big market. He did better at keeping close to Rashid, not like when they headed to Corick’s wagon. He gripped Rashid’s shirt, doing his best not to fall behind enough to pull on it since Rashid would look back at him with an annoyed expression when he did. Jaramogis’s worries about their destination were confirmed when he noticed a building where every living soul there had a cup in their hand.
The Apothecary led him in, and the first thing Jaramogis noticed after the level of drinkers was the level of centaurs in the pub. Among them was his new friend, the one he played ball with. “Han,” Jaramogis called out, with a wave.
Han looked over where he heard his name, laughed, and waved back. “Vo’, Kind!”
Rashid looked down at Jaramogis. “’Kind?’”
“That’s the name he and the others call me. Since that is the only word we seem to share between languages.”
Rashid chuckled, “Okay.”
“There are so many Centaurs here,” Jaramogis mused.
“Well of course, a Centaur always has a glass of wine in celebration for a new day. It’s tradition, and a very serious ritual.”
“I never knew that,” Jaramogis cried, smiling. What a nice reason for a ritual; the start of a brand new day. He wondered, however, why wine was the toast. Han was at least as young as he was, and yet no one seemed to care. Han trotted over, a cup in his hand, and bowed before the Apothecary. “Kulac,” said the centaur boy, his short chestnut hair shining in the light from the door. He wore a green silk scarf around his midsection above his gray-haired horse body. Jaramogis didn’t remember that being there when they first met.
“Rashid, what does ‘Kulac,’ mean. I remember that word being said before.”
“Well, it means ‘hello,’” Rashid replied. “And Vo’ means ‘cheers.’”
“Vo’,” Han repeated, handing Jaramogis his drink, who took it before it spilled and held it with both hands. Jaramogis stared down at it, unsure whether to drink it or to decline.
“You better drink it, ‘Kind,’” Rashid chuckled, “To not drink would be like saying you wished the sun didn’t come up today. You might upset the Centaurs.”
“That’s a lie,” Jaramogis muttered, then he thought for a second. “Or was that sarcasm?”
“No, that was a lie.”
Rashid picked up a glass from the group of them sitting on the bench. This time of day, when the sun was at its highest, the Centaurs paid for all the drinks given to friends. Rashid was considered a special friend as being the Apothecary gave him such perks, and by the looks of it, Jaramogis was also a friend to Han. Rashid chuckled again at the thought of it… Why wouldn’t Jaramogis make friends though, he was ‘Kind,’ after all.
“Oh.” Jaramogis replied, and looked down at the liquid. He felt Han put an arm around him. “Ave’, Vo’.”
“Come on, drink,” Rashid translated with a smirk. “It’s only bad for you if you drink a lot all the time. One glass once in a while is good for your inner soul. The Apothecary recommends it.”
“W-… Well…” Jaramogis took a deep breath, closed his eyes and though he gripped the cup like he was going to down the whole thing, he slowed at the last second and only took a small sip. His eyes shut tight as the soap-tasting liquid went down his throat. It felt like it scattered all over his body, and his whole body felt the chill. Han and Rashid were both staring at him in amusement, and watched as Jaramogis gave Han back the cup with the silliest face and his tongue sticking out. “I suppose that means you don’t like it,” Rashid said, unable to wipe the huge grin off his face. He was sure that Jaramogis’s expression would be imbedded into his mind as a funny memory forever. Han surely thought it was hilarious, since he was laughing too hard to take the cup, and Rashid took it instead.
“Perhaps we haven’t found the right drink yet,” Rashid mused.
“Please don’t,” Jaramogis replied.
“Part of being an apothecary’s assistant is getting used to a bunch of different jobs.”
“How is drinking a job? I don’t see the logic in-“
“Oh come now, boy. You’re but a child. Stop asking questions for a minute and let’s show Han that ‘Kind’ is a good friend to have. This is for your benefit.”
“I still don’t-“ Jaramogis began, but was cut off when a different liquid was shoved into his hand by his enthusiastic new Centaur friend. Han said a few words, but again, all he could distinguish from the words were ‘kind.’ He laughed, and Jaramogis laughed as well so he didn’t seem as lost as he was.
Jaramogis looked down at the clear liquid with the slightest yellow tint, and took a deep breath before he took a sip of it. It was sweeter, but still tasted like soap.
“No? How about this one?”
“No more,” Jaramogis whined, but regardless there was a drink in his hand and somehow he drank that, too. He was feeling a little dizzy, and this drink tasted very much like he had a liquid version of a pine tree.
“Alright, last one,” Rashid said, giving Jaramogis a cup.
Jaramogis sat down, already feeling dizzy from the three drinks he already tried.
“Do you promise?” Jaramogis asked, a permanent expression of dislike on his face.
“Yea-yea, come on boy,” Rashid said, handing him his last drink… Hopefully. “But this time, take a big swig of it. Like this,” Rashid said as he pulled his head up and drank a good amount at one time. “You’re not really supposed to taste it, which is why you probably don’t like it.”
The question as to why one would drink in the first place if they weren’t supposed to taste it slipped his mind when his happy Centaur friend once again put an arm over the Angel’s shoulders and chanted, “Vo’, vo’, vo,’” again and again until the tipsy Apothecary joined in. The pressure was immense; Jaramogis’s heart beat faster each time they chanted. He closed his eyes, shivered, and took a big gulp of the liquid.
It wasn’t that bad. He felt the liquid travel down his body and he swayed a little. This stuff burned, but other than that, it wasn’t as awful as all the other tastes. He breathed a sigh of relief. Rashid was happy, Han was happy, and Jaramogis was happy it was over.
“Take another swig!” Rashid cheered.
“But you said I was done!” Jaramogis cried, which was only responded to by Rashid’s laughter. The boy had to admit he’d never seen Rashid this happy and calm before. He almost seemed human and not the scary, messy-haired meanie he usually seemed to be. Perhaps being the apothecary’s assistant wouldn’t be that bad after all.
“Kind, Kind, Kind,” Rashid chuckled.
Jaramogis chuckled too, trying to keep his focus on Rashid. “Yes, that is what they call me.”
“You don’t understand, Jaramogis, ‘Kind’ in Talian means ‘name.’ Your name is ‘name!’”
Jaramogis stood up suddenly. “You mean they think my name-“ and his legs gave out, making him fall butt first on the wooden floor. On the other hand, perhaps being an apothecary’s assistant was a bad idea.
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Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2012 12:44 pm
~The Differences between Sarcasms and Lies~
About a week had passed, and Jaramogis was still teetering on whether being an assistant was a good or bad thing. On the one hand, Rashid lied at almost every turn, and it made Jaramogis sick to his stomach every day. On the positive side, Jaramogis was allowed to give aid to those who needed it. There was also the fact that Rashid often seemed to be kind in his own way. Jaramogis would often catch Rashid giving people medicine at a discount, especially when they were poor but needed it most. Rashid took care of his medicine, and created every batch of herbs and vials with the customer’s best interest in mind.
When Rashid didn’t think Jaramogis was in earshot, he would hum as he worked. It was always the same song, and he mumbled a verse or two which, though Jaramogis was getting a fine language lesson from his new friends, couldn’t make out much of the words since he wasn’t skilled enough yet and Rashid mumbled too low. Jaramogis knew enough, however, to know that it was a love song. Most of the time Jaramogis justified staying there on many pros. But other times, Rashid could be a very scary man. This day was probably the worst thus far.
“Damn!” Rashid shouted, throwing a shelf of bowls to the ground. He tore through every cupboard, every cabinet, but they were completely and absolutely fresh out of Krufwheat.
“Damn it, damn it all! Damn krufwheat, damn Corick, damn city! I hate it all!”
Jaramogis was too stiff and terrified to tell him that he was lying. Even though Rashid’s anger hid the truth quite well, Jaramogis remembered once when Rashid was drunk he cried out how he loved this city, and they couldn’t both be true, right?
“That b*****d is holding out on me, I know it! He won’t tell me why, but I know he has it. He’s keeping things from me, and I’ll be damned if I let him cripple my work with his stupid habits!”
Jaramogis didn’t remember much about the first time he met Corick, only that there seemed to be an adult matter there and Jaramogis saw no desire to push the matter further. It seemed that for Rashid, the matter had been eating away at him ever since. Rashid used his remaining Krufwheat sparingly and often replaced the herb with more common, though less effective things. However, the cupboard was as dry as the desert sand and Rashid seemed to be fed up with Corick’s lies. Or was it sarcasm, since Rashid knew it was a lie?
“Come on Jaramogis, we’re going to have a talk with Corick,” Rashid grumbled, storming Jaramogis’s way which caused him to flinch. Despite his obvious anger, he seemed aware of his strength because he grabbed the boy’s wrist without bruising it. With the apothecary’s constant disheveled look, angry black eyes and unruly facial hair, one would assume he would have a stronger grip. It was surreal that his hands were so rough and yet his grip was so gentle.
Jaramogis always looked so clean, and he had golden hair with blue eyes. Compared to Rashid, he was as different as day was to night. In some ways, Jaramogis looked up to Rashid. He was serious about his client’s health and was seriously upset when that was neglected. He was coarse and dirty, but Rashid had the heart of an angel deep down. If Jaramogis had to choose which angel, he would choose Paalaka’s father who was difficult to please but always acted with another’s interests at heart. He was a leader, just like Rashid was. Among the boy’s musings, he didn’t notice that his feet carried him with the apothecary to Corick’s wagon of goods.
“Corick!” Rashid shouted, and then he said in Talian, ‘We need to talk!’
After a few seconds of waiting, Jaramogis whispered, “I do not think he’s here.”
“He’s here alright,” Rashid took a couple steps forward, ‘Corick, if you do not come out, then I will have to search for you!’
There was a rustle behind the wagon, and then the large man known as Corick walked into plain sight. ‘Oh, Rashid, I didn’t hear you at first! How are you, my good friend?’
Jaramogis walked up toward Rashid and tugged the back of his shirt twice, but it didn’t seem to matter as Rashid already knew. ‘You are a filthy liar, Corick. I know that you heard me, and we have some things to talk about.’
Corick was taken aback. His eyes caught onto Jaramogis and he smiled, his eyes squinting. ‘Well hello again young man. Don’t think I forgot about you; I have some candied dates right here for you.’
Corick grabbed a stone jar and took out one candied date. Jaramogis’s eyes lit up once it was offered to him, but flinched when Rashid snapped, “Jaramogis, do not take that fruit.”
The boy looked down and kept his hands at his sides, embarrassed for being scolded. He didn’t seem nearly as distressed; however, as Corick was. ‘Rashid, how dare you shout at the boy, he’s done nothing wrong,’ the big man scolded, putting away the date.
‘Stop changing the subject Corick, I know that you have krufwheat and I want to know why you refuse to supply it to me.’
Rashid took a step toward the wagon, and Corick put his arms up as if to guard it. ‘Who told you I had krufwheat? It’s nothing but a silly rumor. We have had a partnership for many years now Rashid, and I would not lie to you.’
‘Yes you would Corick and I know why,’ Rashid began, ‘Because your gambling addiction has led you to be in debt with someone who demands your krufwheat as collateral. I do not have to know all the facts to know this is true; your history for playing a risky game in order to feel better has gotten you into trouble. To think that you would put gambling in front of your family-‘
‘I am not the only one who didn’t put family first, am I?!’ Corick shouted, causing Jaramogis to cower. He didn’t know what the men were talking about exactly, but he did know that the conversation had gone from ‘krufwheat’ to ‘family.’
The Apothecary’s glare lowered. ‘I am not the one being questioned right now Corick, you are. Do not make the same mistake I did.’
Corick looked down on Rashid. The both of them glared at each other for a few seconds until Corick stepped down. ‘This is none of your business,’ Corick sighed, ready to turn away.
Before he could move his body all the way, however, he was pushed back by the enraged medicine man. A few things fell down and some goods did so all the way to the floor. The stone jar of candied dates was one of them. Jaramogis watched in shock, unable to move. He could only look at the dates that poured out of the jar and became covered in sand. ‘You damn well know this is my business, Corick. Your wife and mine; don’t pretend like you’ve forgotten.’
‘Let me go!’
‘Not until you tell me brother, I will not let your son and wife suffer the same fate as mine had!’
‘You abandoned them long ago Rashid, you abandoned everyone! You have no right to speak to me like this, and you have no right to call me brother. All you care about now is work, so be happy I remained your supplier after everything you had done to us!’
Corick wrenched away from Rashid who did not let him out of his sight until the large man went through the curtain of his wagon. There he remained. Rashid smirked, and then called out to him, ‘You’re right Corick, I only care about work! That’s why if you do not supply me with a full bale of krufwheat by tomorrow, I will take it by force! You or your family be damned!’
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