Chapter 16 - The Fruitgirl Express (Patreon)

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Chapter 16 - The Fruitgirl Express

Elrhain sat up with a start. His breath got caught in his lungs as he huffed and puffed, coughing at the sudden shock. The world span around, and he hurriedly put his hands on the ground to steady himself.

He was dancing, and there were weird floating creatures with no internal organs, and the Gigantomachy was singing epics, and then the stars shot down like meteorites, and everyone died like ants-

A hand gently touched his shoulder, and he snapped his head up.

His father looked at him with eyes full of concern. “Welcome back. Are you well?”

“What was that?” Elrhain frantically asked; his hands trembled as he caught hold of his father’s sleeves. The sweat rolled down from his forehead like a waterfall while he struggled to stand up.

That vision, a dream from the ancestors, felt like he had fallen from a thousand kilometres high, with the ground nowhere to be seen. Like a hypnic jerk, even though he was awake.

“What the heck was that?!”

Dofnald shook his head. The young man picked Elrhain up from the ground and rested the hysterical boy’s head on his shoulders. He then turned towards Maeog.

The old shaman currently had his eyes closed as he meditated without sound on a mossy boulder. He looked no more alive than the stone he sat on, but a few twitching fingers told Elrhain otherwise.

“Four hours and eighteen minutes. Long, I would say.” Maeog muttered, opening one eye, “Don’t bother asking your father, boy. Even I, the Grand Shamanka, or Grand Elder, won’t be able to explain what you’ve seen. Each vision is unique. Meant only for each heir or heiress of Earthloch. You alone can decipher what it showed you.”

“Only in inaugurations do the great lakes send them.” The old man jumped down from the rock and dropped in front of Elrhain like a blur. Depending on the event, like this time’s spirit blessed betrothal, the lakes may show you images of two different futures. Answer me this, young heir. Were we blessed?”

Elrhain’s foggy mind started to sort itself. He came out from the frenzy and took a few deep breaths. Finally, with effort, he nodded.

The old shaman grinned. “Then all is well!”

Elrhain didn’t think so.

***

“Ewwieeee!” The moment he left the chamber with his father and Thomos—Maeog staying behind for more of his shamany duties—a shadow with leafy pigtails and hair flowing behind tackled into him like a bull, screaming incoherent nonsense in Uorian.

“Ugh!” Elrhain’s soul left his body again, and he would have fallen if his father hadn’t promptly supported him. “Annie, are you trying to kill me?”

“T-They want to make us d-dance wike that, in front of people!” The little girl sobbed.

If he didn’t know her actual age, even he would have considered giving her a candy and take her to the lost children’s corner. Not to push her off in irritation as he did now.

Yet the adults around them smiled at their antics, not minding her evident violent tendencies.

Was this the reason she had been talking more in Uorian when people other than their family were around? To weaponize her adorable lisp?

“No, they won’t. Stop hugging me; I can’t breathe.” Elrhain tried to push the girl away again but failed; her grip was too firm. So he could only clear her doubts.

Elrhain himself had also grumbled about this issue before leaving the chamber. Those dancing figures got a little too… passionateat times.

They were children, for all that is moral’s sake! He would rather die again than have a mark of public indecency on his name.

So, he asked the shaman and his father, cautiously, if he had to dance exactly like so.

The two didn’t know why Elrhain was so flustered or why he kept beating around the bush trying to ask a question. Maeog even called him cute smartarse for being shy, the old man ending up with another blasting laughter.

But,

“‘Just take the jar and staff to the alter, and the ancestors will teach you the rites. Also, never before was there an heir who had to actually dance, or do anything of the sort, really. It was always more like a metaphor, the dance of blessings.’ They said.”

“… weally?”

“Yes.”

Agwyn visibly relaxed. Then giggled as she patted his face.

“You wuk like Rafiki!”

“You look like Miramarja scribbled on your face again.”

They both giggled, remembering Agwyn’s bratty grandniece from hell. That girl had a mission to be the greatest prankster the Collective had ever seen.

To be honest, Elrhain was as relieved as a cloud reuniting with the girl despite his complaints.

The physical discomfort and mental strain, the slight ache inside him whispering that something was missing.

They were gone. Vanished into puffs of smoke the moment Agwyn rammed into him with the force of a truck. Perhaps those feelings were the very reason why she kept squeezing him so hard right now?

His head cleared up like the sky after a rain. The frenzy couldn’t stop him from thinking anymore.

The cogs turned, and keys clicked. The questions flooded his mind from the deep psyche as if they had been waiting impatiently like preschoolers before summer vacation.

‘Dance lewdly, she said.’ Elrhain mused, ‘But wasn’t each vision unique? Maybe it isn’t if we do the rite together? But we had one vision, and not two, unlike what Maeog said! Do all heirs have to get engaged when they get initiated? No, that would be ridiculous.’

He broke out of his speculations when he saw Agwyn scuttle back towards Elder Croneira, who watched the cavern outside the corridor pillars with a contemplative expression.

And as he predicted, Cyra stood beside her.

The extraordinary woman with water below the waist was also wearing ceremonial clothes, identical to Dofnald’s in design.

‘So the man’s father and wife’s mother? Did this tradition come from the gender restrictions on these chambers, or did the traditions come first?’

Elrhain saw his father politely bow towards the two.

Cyra was joking around with everyone in the vicinity, even servant Thomos. The meek servant talking so candidly looked remarkably at ease while speaking with the chieftainess.

That made Elrhain’s eyebrows twitch. ‘Why was he so jumpy with me, then?’

“All right,” Elder Croneira clapped, “There is not a lot of time until the midnight moon unveils. The heiress and the heir took three hours longer than we had expected. How will the chieftainess and Reanakt Siaglas bring the two above in time?”

Dofnald and Cyra’s demeanor changed.

“My, that is a dilemma.” Cyra then giggled. “Good thing we have me!”

She glanced towards Dofnald and threw him a wink.

‘That’s not enough, lady.’ Elrhain groaned.

Three winks later, Cyra realized Dofnald didn’t pick up her meaning. So she puffed her cheeks, saying, “Skies can fly, duh!”

“Oh.” was all his father said. He then gave the chieftainess a nod.

“Great!” The woman cheered and picked up her daughter. As did Dofnald with Elrhain.

“Mommy?” Agwyn called out in confusion when Cyra tied the girl to her body with filaments of water. They went up and around the little girl’s robes but didn’t press down tight.

Agwyn didn’t look uncomfortable either, simply strumming the filaments like a guitar string. A mellow twang rang out.

“Father should be dying of boredom, having to sit with those squabbling lesser nobles. The Grand Shamanka should have readied the alter by now too,” Cyra kissed her daughter’s nose while talking.

“The best part is, the feast cannot commence until the clan hath been blessed. Clan traditions strictly require them to fast today until the ceremony ends. Those Yuriel pretenders and clan zealots should be blowing their tops in hunger by now.”

Elder Croneira facepalmed, “Chieftainess, this is no time for jokes. And… you lot, what are you laughing at!”

The servants who were eavesdropping in ran away like a headless flock of chickens. They seemed livelier than the servants Elrhain saw in Lochuir and the other settlements.

Definitely not like the fidgety ones who served in their own courtyard three cycles ago.

“I know, I was just wondering is all. By the way, lord Siaglas, would you mind tying this aqua-vine to yourself and little Rhain? It will be safer that way.”

Elrhain saw his father’s finger jerk. But the man still received the extended… appendage. A few seconds after that when Dofnald had tied an initial knot, the aqua-vine flew in by itself and wrapped around both of them snugly.

Elrhain gave the closest one to his face a lick. It tasted like fruit pulp. So, he licked some more.

“Ew, little Rhain, you pervert!” Cyra chided the boy in faux-shame. Elrhain curled up his body to hide the blush when he realized Cyra could still feel the sense of touch with the water.

He absolutely wasn’t scared of Agwyn’s mean glare, he assured himself.

“Fantastic. Now, Gwyn, Rhain, remember not to panic, alright? Breathe gently and keep your eyes open. Mommy will do something fun.”

“… How fun?” Agwyn asked.

‘Skies can fly. Wait, is she going to?!’ The signals flashed before Elrhain’s eyes like a warning sign. He had a dreadful premonition when he jolted his head up to see Cyra and Dofnald standing on the threshold of the corridor floor, right above the hundreds of meter plunge below.

“Please don’t do-!” Elrhain shouted.

But before he could tell the airheaded slug monster not to do anything stupid, she dissolved into a spiraling, seething flood of flying water.

The sapient river in the air swirled like a hurricane, and an excited Agwyn giggled along as she floated up and down the flowing streams. Threads of blue light protected her from the tides, as it now did Elrhain and the silent Dofnald.

An eye-blink later, before Elrhain could even take his first breath, the blue torrents shot up towards one aqueduct like a pouncing nest of serpents, as if they planned on warring against time itself.

The echoes of one scream in terror and another in glee were the only thing they left behind as the four were swept away by the roaring cascade.