43: Three Times is Intention (Patreon)

Kaad was dead. Once again, I’d come a  hair’s breadth away from dying. If it hadn’t been for the Healing Water  spell, I’d be dead now. Trading the magic dagger for it was the right  decision. I shook the thought away. There’d be time to reflect on what  happened later.

My hands shook, as I searched for the key to the children’s chains.  Some of that was due to adrenaline, but I’d also just killed two people.  The weight of that pushed down on me, but I resisted. There were  circumstances--

“Come on, Ollie,” I muttered. “Not now. Just focus.” I took a  steadying breath and kept looking for the key. It turned out to be on a  necklace around Kaad’s neck.

Billisha and Aluali were wary of my approach. The girl Billisha trembled. I didn’t blame her--I was covered in Kaad’s blood.

She was nine or ten years old, with skin the color of tea, hazel  eyes, and black hair that’d been chopped short with a knife. The boy  Aluali was a year younger and hid behind her, blank-faced. They weren’t  siblings--Aluali was stockier, his face wider, his nose longer--but from  the way they stood, I could tell they relied on each other. Both looked  ready to bolt.

“Biluu kuse pappaxi shileete.” Billisha’s voice trembled. She nudged Aluali behind her.

He closed his eyes and gulped. The fear and anxiety returned to his  face, as he let go of Meliune’s Blessing. “Biluu kuse pappaxi shileete.”  Once the words were out, he went blank-faced again.

I spoke softly, as if I was calming a wounded animal. The words  didn’t matter--I knew the children wouldn’t understand English, but that  was okay. The words were just to give them something to focus on.

Once the chains were unlocked, I stepped back to give the children  space. There was a chance they’d immediately run, so I kept up a running  patter and made sure my hands were empty of weapons.

I waved them over to the first aid kit. The children had abrasions  and bruises from the chains. There were cuts and scratches from  stumbling through the woods. Apparently, the injuries didn’t matter  though. Given permission to move, Billisha rushed to the fire to dig  through Boscun’s pack for food. Well, there was a gaping hole in my  belly too, so I helped myself to the venison jerky she found.

What a sight we must’ve been--three children ravenously tearing into  jerky beside the corpses of two men. Still, the food helped calm my  shakes. The children too. They seemed more settled, although still  afraid and uncertain. I caught Aluali peeking at me from behind  Billisha.

“Ahoth,” Billisha said, and then a bunch of words that ran together  in my ears. The language was flowy and relied heavily on soft vowels and  consonants. There were exceptions though, and when those hard sounds  came, they stood like pillars.

I spoke a few words in English to show them again that I didn’t speak  their language. The way they quirked their heads in confusion reminded  me of a certain otter. The children spoke to each other softly, trying  to figure me out.

Billisha asked me a question, and frowned when I responded once more  in English. Aluali made a suggestion, and she pointed to her neck and  then at me. She mimed a collar and chain.

“Ah, no. I’m not an escaped slave.” Although I could see how she might’ve thought so, with me being on my own in the forest.

Aluali made another suggestion, and she mimed shooting an arrow.

I nodded. “Yes, I’m a hunter.” My bow was with my pack. The  children’s eyes rounded in surprise when I retrieved my gear from where  it had been hidden.

Billisha started to ask more questions, but I stopped her. We  couldn’t stay here--eventually scavengers would come for the bodies and I  needed to deal with the crisis at Ikfael Glen. My favorite otter’s  wellbeing was very much uncertain.

I left the kids by the fire in order to search the camp for anything  that might be useful. The children went quiet as they watched. I felt  the same watchfulness inside me, from the uekisheile. Fortunately, the  lichen was patient and listened to my request to stay hidden.

Between them, Boscun and Kaad had:

• Two spears, one seven feet long and the other nine feet.
• Two hunting knives, similar to the one carried by Woldec.
• Two stilettos. They resembled spikes more than knives; designed to  penetrate the gaps between armor. These were the weapons they used in  their fight against each other.
• A war axe on a two-foot haft.
• A big sword, similar to a zweihander.
• Two sets of brigandine, one of which had a rent in the side.
• Two helmets. One had a face that closed to protect the mouth. The other was open, but had a nose guard.
• A warbow six feet long. I wasn’t strong enough to string it, even  after infusing my muscles with qi. If I had to guess, the draw was  probably between 180 and 200 pounds. It was a monster.
• Two dozen arrows. Half of the arrowheads were designed for piercing  armor. The other half were meant for unarmored flesh. All the shafts  were thick and barreled near the fletching to handle the warbow’s force.  They were too heavy and too long for my bow unfortunately.
• Miscellaneous camping gear, including blankets, bedrolls, pots, pans, and rope.
• Miscellaneous consumables, including the food and the medicines in  the first aid kit. Heaven help me, I almost cried when I found a pouch  of salt. There were also dried beans, peas, corn, salted meat, and  venison jerky.
• A single small silver coin, which I found secreted away in a leather  pouch strapped to Kaad’s left armpit. Whether the location had meaning  or it was just his special hiding place, I had no idea.

Neither of them had Candle Stones or Firestarters. There was also a  lack of quality to all their things. The weapons were nicked and pitted.  The metal plates in the brigandine were wrought iron instead of steel.  The clothes were many-times patched. Even so, I wanted it all.  Everything here could be made useful.

I stacked what I wanted to bring with me near the children--the  blankets, bedrolls, food, first aid kit, and camping gear. The rest I  hid away from the camp. I’d come back to retrieve the gear later, when  it was safe to do so. The children waited for me, whispering to each  other.

Eventually, there was only one thing left to do--to take Boscun and  Kaad’s cores--but I worried about the children’s reaction. Well, they’d  not reacted badly when Kaad cut Boscun’s core from his body. I should  just collect the cores, and if they recoiled, then I’d know that I  stumbled on a taboo.

I drew my hunting knife and made a hand-long incision in Kaad’s  chest. The body was still warm. My fingers wriggled around inside  until...okay, there it was. I drew the core out. It was the size of a  small marble, smaller than Boscun’s, which still lay by the fire.

I snuck a peek at the kids, and they watched me intently. After a  moment’s hesitation, Billisha kneeled. Aluali was slow to follow, so she  tugged on his shirt to get his attention. When he saw what she was  doing, he quickly followed. Then they both put their hands over their  hearts and bowed their heads. Their actions smelled of ritual, of  ceremony.

“Ahoth,” they said together. “Biluu diakash den wiloo et biliase dendeneise.” Then they waited for me.

I guessed at what came next and cracked the cores. Neither of them  flinched. If anything, they looked relieved. Ah, so they knew that there  was a choice between taking the whole core or just the silverlight.

I absorbed Kaad’s silverlight first.

  54 silverlight gathered. 49 absorbed.    

I thanked the uekisheile for honoring our agreement and not being greedy.

Next came Boscun’s silverlight. The grains were clumped together, the  size of a pea, but slightly denser than any of the others I’d found.

  87 silverlight gathered. 79 absorbed.    

I hadn’t felt much after Kaad’s silverlight; just a wisp of  frustration, of constantly reaching for that which was out of reach. But  with Bosun’s, there was a feeling of weathering a storm; of being  lashed by the elements, but pushing ahead, a step at a time. There was  hope for finding something ahead. There was hope for protecting  something behind.

Rich-bitter. Strong-stubborn. Delicious-not/delicious.

I acknowledged the uekisheile’s observation, the echo of Boscun’s  lonely struggle still reverberating through me. Neither of the two men  likely lived easy lives.

“Rest now,” I said to them. “Lay down your spite and your rage. They  will not serve you. Lay down your spite and your rage. They will only  weigh you down. A third time, I say unto you, lay down your spite and  your rage. Let them go and find your way to the light instead.”

I didn’t remember the words exactly as mi abuela taught them--just  how often does a person have to worry about angry spirits? But they were  close enough. The important thing was the repetition of the entreaty.  She always said, “Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three  times is intention.”

The children were confused by my actions. While breaking the cores  was familiar, they seemed to expect more from the ritual. Well, I didn’t  know anything about funeral services on this world. It’d just have to  do.

When I stood up, they hurriedly chanted, “Biluu diakash den billu wildwae denseise sendwatei.”

Billisha asked, “Bilei?” She pointed to the fire. “Bilei?”

“Bilei,” I said, pointing to the fire.

“De, de,” she said, nodding. “Bilei.” Then she mimed picking up the  fire and placing it on the bodies. “Menesei dwesane te bilei awrawarua  de.”

Did they normally cremate their dead? That’d make sense in a world where the undead were a thing.

I shook my head and made gestures of the sun traveling through the  sky and us moving away. The signs were the ones Ikfael Glen and I used.  She’d come up with a number of handy gestures, so that we didn’t have to  improvise every time we talked.

Billisha, startled, said, “Dah!” She repeated my gestures and then added the ones for “hurry” and “question.”

But how did she--

Communication, Nonverbal -> 4
Communication, Trade Sign -> 2
Literacy, Diaksh -> 2    

A notification popped up for three new Skills, one of which was Trade  Sign. No wonder that rascally otter had been so good at pantomime.  Okay, it was probably more pidgin than language, but that was still an  unfair advantage.

Billisha, meanwhile, clearly struggled to remember what she’d been  taught of the Trade Sign. The gestures came out hesitantly. Partway  through, she began to cry, which triggered tears from Aluali. In  moments, I had two sobbing children. They’d been brave for so long. Of  course, they’d cry once the pressure was off.

Unfortunately, I only recognized a few out of the dozens of signs:  hunt, fight, run, transport, and barter. It was enough though to know  that they’d been traumatized. I wanted to give them time to grieve, but  time was short. I waited as long as I could, but eventually, I had to  shush them. With a soft voice and gestures, I encouraged them to follow  me.

I put the helmets on their heads and asked them to carry the blankets  and bedrolls. They sniffled, while they waited for me to put the rest  of the gear into my backpack. Once we left camp, the children went  silent. Someone, somewhere had taught them how to move through the  woods. The rest of the trek was short and uneventful.

The view from the top of the escarpment was magnificent. A few  billowy clouds lingered in the sky, their shadows slowly sailing across  the land below them. The children’s jaws dropped appropriately. That  amazement turned into horror when I showed them the narrow path down to  the cave. We were a thousand feet up after all.

Billisha said something, which sounded a lot like, “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

The kids looked at each and gulped. Aluali said something, to which  Billisha shrugged. Then she said something, and it was Aluali’s turn to  shrug.

Billisha said, “Meliune.” And both children went blank-faced. They  turned to me like automatons and waited. All their emotions, all their  humanity disappeared with a flip of the Blessing switch. It was more  than a little creepy.

How much practice was needed to be able to do that? Was it because  they’d been enslaved, or were all children trained to use Meliune’s  Blessing to overcome their fear? I could see how it’d be useful in  crisis situations, the equivalent of earthquake drills or shelter in  place.

I wasn’t willing to risk them walking down the path carrying  anything, so I had them put down their burdens. I’d come back to get  them myself. Once they were ready, neither Billisha or Aluali hesitated  at all. They followed me down to the cave. When they got to the  entrance, I pulled them inside.

The children immediately tried to bolt, but I enchanted my body in  preparation and locked them down. I dragged them over to the chliapp  lioni’s carcass and kicked it. Once they saw it was dead, skinned, and  gutted, they flopped down on the ground relieved.

Meliune’s Blessing lifted, like a theater curtain. Immediately the children chattered with each other.

“Oh my god. That was so scary. I thought it was a live chliapp lion, and it was going to eat us.”

“I know, right? Too scary. What’s this crazy boy doing dragging us to  places like this, where lions live. Maybe we made a mistake. Maybe we  should run away when he’s not looking.”

“Wait, why is it skinned and gutted? You don’t think he did it, do  you? He killed a lion and Boscun and Kaad? You don’t think he has a path  do you? That he’s--gulp--level 1.”

Obviously, the children didn’t say any of those things. It sure did  sound similar though, and I recognized the names of the slavers, as well  as the lion.

While the children were fascinated by the carcass, I told them to  wait for me and made several trips to retrieve the gear at the top of  the escarpment and collect firewood. Having a proper axe--even if it  wasn’t meant for trees--made it so easy. I was moved. Truly moved.

I brought enough wood down for at least four meals. I also gave each  child a knife and an axe, and entrusted the firestarter to Billisha. Her  eyes went wide when I put it into her hands.

“I go,” I gestured. “Safe here. Water there. Eat lion. I return night.”

The kids were scared and confused. I’d saved them, and now I was  leaving them. I reassured them of my return, but the skepticism was  obvious on their faces. Halfway through my attempted explanation, Aluali  invoked Meliune’s Blessing. He sat in the corner to wait, while  Billisha dealt with me.

“You danger go? Us danger here? When you return? How many hours?” Her  hands started to tremble, her signs becoming awkward. “No. Not go.  Danger bad. Safe good. Safe good.”

“Safe good,” I gestured, “but I safe,” and here I paused--there wasn’t a sign for friend  that I knew. I pointed to Aluali and then her, bringing the two fingers  together. I pointed to myself and then someone in the forest below and  brought my fingers together. “I safe,” I signed, pointing toward Ikfael  Glen. “I safe them.”

To that, Billisha didn’t have a response. She just quietly nodded,  and signed, “Yes.” Then she sat next to Aluali and went blank-faced.

“I return,” I signed.

When I left them, they were staring into space. They could’ve been  mannequins, except Billisha’s hand snuck over to hold Aluali’s hand.