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 Posted: Tue Jun 25, 2013 5:48 pm
Three Years.
------part 1
"Tchaaah... how do you do that? It hurts!"
Nyiim was halfway up a support pole, pulling on a grass rope used to lash a beam. His feet were vertical upon the support, and he was bent nearly double, pulling with all his might. When he dropped back down, there were harsh purple stripes down his fingers, surrounded by white. He wiggled his fingers at his companion and then turned back to the growing home.
"Calluses. You'll learn to do it too, if you ever want to get married and move out."
"Nah, I'll just hire you!"
Nyiim shook his head and turned back to the growing structure. Enu was a good friend and had been since childhood. He was a bit younger, though, and a little less able to assist when his sister and her new husband needed their own home. Enu's brother-in-law was gone at the moment and his sister resting her swollen feet, so it was left to the remaining men. Enu's father, Tendo, sometimes got that look in his eye, though. He and Nyiim's father had often hunted together, and he had been there when his compatriot had rather ungracefully shuffled off to be with the spirits. He had also been a guiding light and a source of great support for Nyiim's entire life, and embraced him like a son.
Nyiim just tried to not make eye contact as the man came over and gave him an appreciative pat on the back.
"Good work! We'll have this up in no time."
"Yes, Sir." He moved now to retrieve another coil of rope while Enu and his father held another support pole.
"Up you go!"
Nyiim leaped up the pole again and began to secure the attachment, and that was apparently right where they wanted him.
"I really appreciate you coming out here today," Tendo began, and a frigid, seeping dread crept its way through Nyiim's heart.
"Well, I wasn't going to leave you with Enu." Keep it light. Make jokes. For the love of the spirits, change the subject. From the sound of the huff beneath him, it hadn't worked. His fingers ached with the strain and he willed the pain to kill it away.
"You know, I haven't forgotten. I don't think I ever will. I really do appreciate your help. It means a lot to us."
Enu looked to be tactfully ignoring everything his father was saying, or else was very confused. He was a few years younger and likely barely remembered...
Nyiim began to wonder if he hadn't been brought here for the express reason of having this conversation. It was almost like Tendo to do something like that, although presumably he didn't lie about his daughter moving off with an older man just to get a prentice thrown up a pole where he couldn't escape.
Well, it was out there, and ignoring it wasn't going to solve anything. It was possible to end the conversation before it went any further, however. At least Nyiim hoped so.
"Thank you for granting me an ample distraction."
For a moment it seemed as if he may have won. There was only silence, and he dropped down off of the support. Tendo may have been one for attempted emotional support, but he wasn't an idiot. That had been a short, extremely passive-aggressive way to admit that he wasn't happy with the current line of conversation. Enu, however, seemed less quick on the uptake.
"Why, what's today?"
While it was most often an unconscious effort to remain expressionless, Nyiim's eyes shot down to the boy and weer steely, the seething annoyance meant for an entire body focused in only a pair of green eyes. Now, Tendo seemed at a loss for words.
"Uh..." he turned to Nyiim, as if searching for some kind of permission.
"This is the day my father died, several years ago." It felt like 'several', but in reality it had only been three, hadn't it? Either way, Enu had turned bright red and looked deeply regretful over the readiness of his mouth to create an awkward situation. "Don't worry about it. A date is merely a point in time. There's no reason to make that face." There was no reassuring smile, no angry glare. Enu's sister seemed to scold him from across the plot, relaxing only when Nyiim caught her movements. He pretended to not have seen and wandered off into the shade, giving his hands a moment to rest and taking a few deep draws from his water skin. His eyes flickered back over the plot, which had gone deadly silent. All eyes were on him entirely conspicuously, and all he could do was shrug.
"Really. I'm fine. It was a long time ago, and I've moved on. Today is a day like any other. There's no requirement to tread on eggshells. Come on..." It was a plea that he hoped was well-heeded.
It was, indeed, just a day like any other. People hunted and scavenged, collected water, built houses, had babies, made love, moved on with their lives. Nobody was thinking of a man that had died years prior. Nobody should have been thinking about the boy left behind. It was so long ago, and he was okay. The day itself, that had been a trial. In fact, it had been two days after the accident that the men had returned, all somber faces and hesitations. They had been set-upon by a rogue band of assassins or mercenaries, and his father had been shot. It was that simple. They had returned once danger had dissipated to retrieve him, but he was well-wounded. He passed overnight, and they'd had to move on. Game still had to be hunted. They returned with plenty of food, but without one of their party.
His mother had broken down. She had collapsed into Tendo's arms and wept, shrieked, weakly beaten him. She had died that day too. Nyiim hadn't known what to do. He was so young, and things like this weren't supposed to happen. Dad came back from all of his hunts with food for the family, maybe a new scrape or two. He didn't really understand death and he would not for weeks. It was shortly after his heart-wrenching epiphany that his mother's earthly body disappeared into the forest, and he had been truly alone.
... that was several years ago. He had moved on. Look at him, even now surrounded by those who considered him family. He was not alone. Enu plopped down beside Nyiim, breaking his train of thought and gently taking the water skin.
"I'm sorry. I'd... forgotten. Really. I'm sorry."
Nyiim sighed and gazed off toward the horizon, feeling very old. It was odd, how life just carried on for those left behind. There had been pity for a month or more, and compassion for quite some time after, but everyone seemed to have forgotten now. It hadn't been their father, after all. He was glad that they had forgotten. He hated the pity. He loathed all of the unsure glances and pitying pats on the hand. It was better that they'd forgotten.
"Come on," he said suddenly, patting Enu's leg, "We're going to teach you how to lash walls together."
"C'mon, it hurts my hands!"
"It does, I know. That's the price for a sturdy hut, a good home for you sister and her husband and your niece or nephew. I'm not building this for you! Imagine visiting 'the house that Dad and Nyiim built'. Besides, we want to get it done today. We need an extra set of hands."
"I'll hold the poles, my balance is off."
"Luckily, walls don't involve climbing. You're taller than me. Come. Show your sister you love her while she's here. Come on." Nyiim stood, ready to begin again whether his friend followed or not.
word count- 1310
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Posted: Wed Jun 26, 2013 6:49 pm
Three Years.
------part 2
Darkness had finally come, and the night owls of Yware had begun creeping off to bed themselves. Nyiim had not trusted himself to sleep even for the aching of his muscles. While the day had been like any other, the night held its own rituals for such an important anniversary. His father had been lost to raiders three years ago, and soon his mother had been lost as well. While Nyiim loathed the attention paid to him by others for the sake of pity, he had his own ideals on how to properly respect the date. It was his burden and his life that had been affected. His fellow tribesmen and -women had no responsibility to worry for him, and he preferred if they did not.
Nyiim sat up against the wall, Bosede's heavy head resting in his lap. He watched as a figure that had been lingering nearby disappeared into the trees and did not return. It was time. He gently scratched his raptrix's head, rousing the beast and slipping out from his place as pillow. Bosede looked confused as Nyiim stood and began to gather together a small bag of supplies, tail wagging uncertainly. The Leaf boy noticed his companion's trepidation and approached once more, crouching to rub Bosede's soft feathers.
"It's okay, boy. Stay here. I'll be back."
The raptrix was not so certain of this command. He had only been with Nyiim about a year and had never dealt with this particular summer ritual. He did not like the idea of leaving the boy to his own devices, especially in the middle of the night. He nudged his Earthling's hand and whined slightly.
"Really, 'Sede. I'll be okay." It was obvious, though, from the natural habits of the raptrix to know that Nyiim would not be leaving alone. Nyiim sighed slightly. It would be an unwelcome disturbance to the ritual to have anyone else there, but he'd have to do. He turned and tucked a water skin into his bag and stood, moving to leave down the ladder at the front of the platform. As predicted, her hear the soft ticking of Bosede's claws traveling down his spiral stairs... but it seemed almost a comfort now. There was a strange hollowness in his chest, as there always was this time of year, but Bosede seemed to have found his place within it, tucked into a corner and soothing it even slightly. When the two met at the bottom of the tree, Nyiim reached over and gave the uncertain raptrix a good skritching. In return, Bosede leaned up against him and lingered more closely as they continued.
The path that Nyiim struck out upon was not one marked by wear or passage, but one that he had forged in his mind two years previous. It led through the thick undergrowth on the outskirts of their clearing and into the denser wood, turning around to circle the settlement and return to the east, traveling even further into No Man's Land. He went toward the lake and knelt by the shore, ignorant to the bugs partaking of his blood. His eyes closed and his brows furrowed, his face turned toward the cool breeze blowing off the water.
It had been a much warmer, dryer summer that year. The settlement was experiencing a drought that had supplied muddy water, but no foods. The hunters had to leave and travel the deserts of Tale to support their wives and children. Nyiim had wanted to go, but he had no idea how to use ranged weapons.
Stay home, take care of your mother. I'll be back before the week's out!
The last words they had shared. He would not be back. Indeed, even his physical form would never return to be buried in a proper grave yard. He was somewhere out there in a shallow grave, rotting if he had not been consumed by animals. Nyiim's gorge rose, but he swallowed the reflex down. It was over and done with. What had remained to be buried had not been his father. When the spirit left the body, you were only meat, destined to fertilize the earth or fill the bellies of hungry creatures. It was that face that made it difficult, but one had to understand the nature of life and death.
His eyes opened and he began to unpack the contents of his bag. He had with him a crude wooden bowl and a few small candles, built during the occasions when hunting had been necessary and fat was in excess. He had also packed a small vial of oil and a fair amount of dead boughs plucked from the ground beneath winter trees. Nyiim reverently lifted the bowl to the sky, into the light of the moon, and felt a terrible swelling in his chest.
It had only taken a day to notice his mother dying. She didn't speak. She didn't cook. She laid in bed, eyes red and wet from weeping. The food he had offered her had been shunned. Within two weeks, she was wandering the woods without a purpose, arriving at random points throughout the day. She had been a woodcarver, but she never touched her tools again. The day she disappeared had begun in the new normal way, Nyiim making breakfast and serving it to a near-corpse. She had smiled, though. He would never forget that smile. When he left to assist in scavenging, she had faded away. A friend had seen her on the clearing's edge in the late morning, and that was all. She was gone, her body fading into the same state as her soul.
Nyiim exhaled strongly and took the bowl to his lap and placed a number of the dry leaves around the perimeter of the bowl before standing the candles in the center. He then took the vial of oil, pouring it over the leaves and into the center of the bowl, rubbing it into the rim until the wood was colored shades deeper than it had begun.
Finally, from his bag came flint and tinder, and sparks lit the candles with tiny flickering flames. Nyiim placed the bowl gently in the water and gave it a shove toward the center, watching the little lights float. The spirits knew fire. It was a key to their nature, giver and taker of life. Hopefully his parents would be privy to its glow. Tears rolled ignored down Nyiim's cheeks, and even Bosede stood feet away, apparently understanding the importance of the situation.
The tightness in Nyiim's throat relaxed as the oil ignited, the center of the lake erupting in glorious flame. He closed his eyes and turned them up toward the moon, hands turned out and raised.
word count- 1310
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Posted: Fri Jan 10, 2014 2:25 pm
The Calling.
Nyiim was not a man with much money to his name. He traded on occasion, but usually for necessary goods rather than coin. The aldabuck that Jacinthus felled had fed him and his familiars, as well as some of his fellow tribesmen. The meat had been well-appreciated, as had his herbs and the pods he had collected. It was not as large as his usual haul, but the protein had been a welcome surprise. Tendo had been the one to help with the butchering; he was a man that Nyiim respected, and one who knew more of his life than most. He had been present upon his father's death, although the had never discussed the event in detail. He had been a second father to the young Leaf tribesman. As they crouched over the corpse, carving flesh from cartilage and bone, the inevitable question arose.
"If I may ask, how did you come upon this prey?" Tendo asked, touching the arrow wound in the beast's hide for a moment. His eyes turned up to Nyiim. They were both well aware that the boy had little training and weaponry, and this had been a skillful kill. For once, Nyiim was glad for the sudden, potentially uncomfortable subject.
"I met a man as I was gathering," he responded, still working at the meat, "His name is Jacinthus, and he is an excellent hunter."
"A-ha," Tendo nodded, but he offered no more. He heard the words lingering on Nyiim's lips. It took a while for them to emerge, but he knew the boy well by now. All he had to do was wait.
"He uses a bow with such skill... I think that I would like to try."
"Is that so? Have you ever tried your hand at archery before?"
"Ah... no," Nyiim admitted, but with no shame. It had been a suggestion by the woman to tell him that he was no good for magic. Archery needed a gentle hand, and he did not seem to have it. He was a clumsy young man. Now he wondered if he should have listened. "I would like to. I just... need some help procuring a bow."
Now their eyes met, and there was blatant emotion in Nyiim's soft green. He was feeling deeply about this, but he needed assistance. His trust in Tendo showed, and his love, so rarely expressed. Tendo softened and smiled.
"Preserve this meat, and take it tomorrow to a man named Geska. Tell him that I sent you, and offer it in return for a bow."
"A bit of meat is not worth a weapon." Nyiim knew this name. Geska had been a guard on the hunt that had killed his father. They had met once or twice, but there had been a strange tension between them. Nyiim had not made it a point to seek the one-eyed man.
"I know." They worked in silence for more time, and as Nyiim washed the blood from his hands, he wondered: would Geska be willing to trade for just a few pieces of aldabuck? Tendo abandoned the bucket of water sooner, though, and returned with a handful of coins.
"Take these to him as well."
Nyiim looked to Tendo's hand, and then to his eyes.
"I couldn't take this from you."
"You can," Tendo insisted, "and you will."
For this reason, Nyiim found himself on the doorstep of a near-stranger as the sun stood nearly at its highest point. He'd knocked and waited, wondering at first if anyone was at home. Bosede's ears perked then, and the door opened without any preceding footsteps. Nyiim was slightly unnerved. It was a woman who answered, a regal streak of grey in her pinkish hair.
"Can I help you?" she asked. Her voice was gently, not barely what Nyiim had imagined for the wife of a stone-hard hunter.
"I have come to speak to Geska," he said, his voice disguising the nerves in his belly as confidence. His face remained stoic, as one may expect. "I was sent by Tendo. I am Nyiim, son of Ylora and Shid-aa."
The woman's manner did not change, and she simply nodded before disappearing back inside her home. Nyiim could see from the doorway a living area and a bowyer's workbench. No wonder he had been sent here.
It was only moments before Geska appeared. His eye flickered over Nyiim's face and form. The boy stood firm.
"Nyiim," the hunter said in what might have been greeting, "What can I do for you?" He seemed more open than their previous meetings. Perhaps Tendo's name meant something... or his father's.
"I've come to offer you... a trade." He hefted a portion of wrapped, salted meat and produced the coins from his pocket. "I am in need of a bow, Sir."
Something in Geska's face brought forth uneasy notions. One day, his father had purchased his first bow. He had received training as an archer, and he had died by his bow. Nyiim's brows barely furrowed. Father, what did you think of him now?
With a soft grunt, Geska took what was offered him and counted the coins in his palm. He turned again to Nyiim then and nodded, stepping back.
"Come in, little hunter."
Nyiim offered a polite half-bow and stepped into the room, now able to see the rest of the couple's homestead. Geska's wife seemed to be brewing tea. The large man went to her and left the meat with a few words and a gentle gaze, and tossed the coins onto his workbench before disappearing to a rack holding several well-crafted bows. He handled a few, looking them over before he chose one in particular and moved back to his bench. From a hanger he pulled a series of strings, and motioned again for Nyiim to follow. The boy obeyed, trailing after Geska to the cleared area beside his home.
"Your father was a dear friend," the man said, stepping aside as he offered Nyiim the bow, now strung with a taut string. "He was a skilled archer. Perhaps you have inherited his affinity for the hunt." A faraway look crossed Geska's face. He seemed softer somehow.
Had this man seen his father die, Nyiim wondered? Had he held his head as he expired? Had he dug the hole? Buried the corpse?
Nyiim shook these thoughts away and took the bow. Geska moved behind him and pointed to a target stuffed with leaves and peppered with holes. Bosede rounded the house to join his side.
"Turn your shoulder to the target."
Nyiim turned obediently.
"Ah, spread your feet. About a shoulder's length apart."
The boy's feet shifted, but he felt another kick them further apart.
"Now draw back."
Nyiim turned to look to Geska. Just... draw back?
"To the corner of your mouth. Hold the string like this."
He copied the form of the man's fingers and swallowed, turning toward the target. There was no arrow to arm himself with, but he pulled back. The string moved too far, pulling easily to the back of his jaw. Geska gave a sound of disapproval and snatched the bow away. Nyiim turned to him and... was Geska smiling? Another string was looped over the notches of the bow, pulled taut.
"You are strong," Geska said, and he offered the bow back, "Try again."
Nyiim shifted his weight and returned to his previous stance. Now he pulled the bow and felt it fight against him. He pulled to the corner of his mouth, fingers stopping at a rounded gem. He kept the draw, only his eyes turning toward the bowyer.
"You are marked for a bow, aren't you..." Geska mused. He rounded the boy, looking him from top to bottom. "Perhaps it is fate that you should find me."
Their eyes met, and Geska motioned for Nyiim to release. How they shared this nonverbal communication with such a vague gesture was lost to the boy. He relaxed his arms and let the bow fall to his side.
"The meat for your bow, the coin for your training," Geska said, putting a hand on Nyiim's shoulder. "If you would be willing to learn from a man with one eye left. I still have a few good years left in me yet."
There was something warm about that touch. Nyiim felt something swell in his chest, and at the backs of his eyes. His body didn't know how to react, aside from offering a ghost of a smile in response to Geska's.
Yes, he had been there. Nyiim could see now. Perhaps he had been a bigger player in his father's life than he had imagined. 'Dear friend' indeed. There was a sadness in the man's eyes, and Nyiim would likely never be able to make the connection if it was never offered.
He looked so much like his father, after all.
"I would be honored, Sir." There was an odd tweak in Nyiim's voice, and he swallowed to quell it.
Perhaps he would ask this man about his father. Perhaps some day...
word count- 2650
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