| Chapter 6:

| The Sioleth morning arrived carried on a cool breeze; the night chill still lingering before the arrival of the hot afternoon sun. In the cover, the only noise came from Rothar as he made the morning meal preparations; the newcomer, Eric, was still sound asleep. The events Rothar had witnessed in the dream realm the night before had bothered him. The realm had always allowed him a glimpse of things that could come to be, good or bad. They sometimes let him walk amongst other tribes, letting him see as they were in this realm. Last night, there had been several things that bothered him.

| The Hethren were getting stronger - that was the first. Somehow, they seemed to be drawing off of a power much like Jantra. They were building their settlements at incredible rates; rates that didn’t seem to be greatly affected by the efforts of the Zagorans to eliminate them. Even the Hethren themselves were getting larger, stronger. They were no bigger than the size of a Zagoran in the history scrolls, yet now they towered above the mightiest of the Zagoran fighters.

| His second concern was more of a mystery about Eric. Eric had been in the dream realm, conscious and clothed as one of them. Though armed and seeming the very image of a warrior, he was unaware of his surroundings; of what the dream realm was. Rothar’s presence there had prevented Eric from getting killed by a Hethren, and a quick warding with his Jantra had prevented Eric from getting back into the realm for the night.

| There was his third concern - the Hethren in the dream realm. There was a time when the Hethren were only asleep in the realm, the same as any other creature that cannot traverse it as Seekers could. This Hethren was there, just as Rothar had been, and that greatly concerned him. He took only small comfort in knowing that the Hethren would be surprised to find out that one of them would never wake again this bright morning.

| Eric’s eyes blinked and he opened them to a warmly lit cover. For a moment, that strange feeling of not knowing where he was jolted him to a state of alertness. It subsided, a moment later, and he looked around to find Rothar by the clay oven, preparing breakfast. “Good Morning.”

| Rothar turned around with a questioning look on his face “It is? Why would you say that?” He was holding some sort of thin bread, much like a pita, and looked to be preparing to stuff it with something.

| “Umm… well, I don’t know… that’s usually what people say in the morning, back home.” Eric thought about the statement and realized it was a bit silly, considering its vagueness.

| “Ah… I see, then Good Morning to you too.” Rothar held the thin bread in one hand and stuffed it with a mixture of vegetables and something Eric couldn’t make out with the other. “I’m just finishing our daybreak meal. Its called Tremp Bread, which has some vegetables and Surrlic egg.” He set down the finished stuff bread and began another.

| Well, not sure it sounds great, but if it’s anything like the meal last night, it should be tasty. “Sounds delicious Rothar.” Eric rose, and slipped on his pants and shirt, then went over to sit down at the table. I wonder if I should say anything about last night… or was it just a dream.

| In another moment, Rothar had prepared four of the stuffed bread called Tremp, and was preparing some sort of drink. Rather unexpectedly, Rothar brought up the events of the night before “Eric, you must be careful if you wish to walk the dream realm.”

| Eric jolted up from his chair. “That was real?! You were… you really saved me from the Hethren?”

| Rothar sat down the drink he was preparing and raised a clawed hand to him, motioning him to sit back down. “Yes, that was real. As I thought, you weren’t aware of what the significance of the realm was. I think I need to explain some things to you.” He took the four breads on a large platter, and set it on the table, then poured each of them a silver mug of the dark drink. Instead of eating right away, Eric kept looking to Rothar for answers to the strange dream - a dream strong enough that he could still feel the weight of the Hethren on him if he thought about it. “The dream realm is a place that lets us see the Sioleth in a slightly different realm. It is real, though not quite in the sense that things are now. When we are there, we can see things that might become reality, or in some cases, how to avoid them. We can also walk in the tribes of our enemies to see it as if we were really there.” Rothar took a bite from his Tremp Bread, and continued when he had finished his chewing and swallowing. Eric said nothing, only listened. “At one time, we were alone there, but from last night’s events, the Hethren seemed to have discovered how to enter it as well. I didn’t know human’s had that ability too.”

| Eric finally reached for a Tremp as well. “I didn’t know we had it either Rothar - I’ve never heard of such a thing in my life.” He took a bite of the Tremp, and aside from having an odd texture, it was another tasty meal. “Mmm… you’re quite the cook Rothar, these are great!”

| Rothar smiled “Thank you, they are one of my favourite daybreak meals, simple as they are.” Rothar quickly switched back into his more serious and pondering stature “Strange… I wonder if your entrance into the dream realm is more purposeful than I thought. You were clothed much as we are, and you carried a sword like mine. I found you because you appeared only a short distance away from where I was, as if hunting the same Hethren that I had heard. Only another Seeker has even done such a thing before.”

| “Hmm… perhaps there is more to it than I thought too. I almost sensed a purpose as to why I was there, but I think the confusion is how the Hethren snuck up on me like that.” Eric continued munching down his first Tremp.

| Rothar took another sip from his drink and set the silver mug back down, catching a sliver of sunlight through the window. “That Hethren seemed to try killing you in their favourite way too - suffocation.”

| Nodding, Eric took the second Tremp and began munching away, clearing a mouthful before answering “Yeah… interesting method of it too, stomping me square on the face. Would have almost been interesting except for not being able to breath!” Eric suddenly went white - Oh shit… what the hell did I just say that for!? Quickly, he spoke again, interrupting the perplexed look that was forming on Rothar’s brow “Umm… besides that, thank you Rothar - thanks for saving me.”

| The Zagoran bowed his head “I’m glad I could, as I told you there, a fatality there would be the end of your life here.” Eric took a sip of the liquid and started to snicker. Rothar looked at him with the usual confused gaze. “I don’t think the loss of your life at the hands of a Hethren is a very amusing idea!”

| Eric shook his head, and smiled “No no, it’s not that - it’s the drink… it’s coffee!”

| “Coffee?” Rothar raised a brow. “We call it Jie. It is made from roasted Jie beans that grow on some of the cliff tops here.”

| Eric nodded with recognition . “Yep, that’s coffee. In Canada, coffee is a pretty big business - you can buy dozens of different types and nearly ever restaurant serves it!” Eric sipped some more. He usually preferred a tiny bit of sugar, but it was nice just to have something the same between their worlds.

| “What is a restaurant?” Rothar seemed to switch himself back into full Seeker mode again, forgetting his half-eaten breakfast.

| Feeling a little better about things again, Eric explained the concept of a restaurant to Rothar, who was appalled that someone would invite you into their home then charge you wager for the food they served you!

| The conversation the two friends had over breakfast lasted at least an hour, each sharing a little more about their worlds. In the Zagoran society, there was no money and everyone simply did their part to provide for one another. In Eric’s world, nearly the opposite was true in that everyone did a job that indirectly benefited the others, for which they were paid a tender, and had to use that tender to purchase the services and items they needed. To Rothar, it seemed almost barbaric that a people could over look others that lacked the precious tender Eric called money.

| As they finished their meal, the conversation took on a more serious tone about the events that were to transpire over the next day. Rothar collected the dishes and took them to a basin to be cleaned. “I have to see the counsel this afternoon. They will be instructing which parties are to proceed where. I will likely be staying near the village in order to protect it.”

| Eric saw that he was about to do dishes, and picked a cloth to help. As Rothar begin washing with water and the Dailnish root, Eric dried them. “What about me? Should I stay here?”

| “I would prefer that, but the counsel may think otherwise. I don’t even know if Massic will agree to you carrying a weapon yet, in which case your presence with us would be a danger to yourself.” The Zagoran finished the last dish (there weren’t that many) and dried his hands and claws.

| Eric agreed though he really wanted to stay by Rothar’s side for some reason. Soon after, they were on their way into the village. The coolness of the lingering night air was already fading into a dry heat as the gleaming sun rose steadily higher. The first visit was to an older Zagoran, Naffit. Naffit, Rothar explained, was the village clothes maker. He could create just about any sort of clothing out of the leather and materials that were provided him. Before talk of clothing even began, Eric figured that he and Rothar were asked at least half an hour of relentless questions as to what Eric was, and where he came from. Eric himself found himself glimpsing down every now and then at the old Zagoran’s feet, whose claw tips faded to an off-white. Finally, Rothar bid Eric and Naffit farewell and headed for the Counsel’s cover.

| “He thinks much of you human” said Naffit as he pulled out a marked rope. “Now stand straight and hold your arms out so that I can get a measure of you.” Naffit took careful measurements of Eric’s chest and sat back down. He took out a piece of leather, and began making notches along it with a sharpened fire coal.

| Eric watched the old lizard work in a mechanical sense, now cutting the leather at just the right lengths. “He has an incredible thirst for knowledge, that’s for sure. So do I, I suppose - I’ve certainly asked him enough about this place. “

| Naffit chuckled “That’s our Rothar, always trying to stuff his head with more bits of things. He usually doesn’t say that much though… kind’a quiet, ya’ know.” The first finished piece of leather was laid aside and a second was placed before the old Zagoran to be measured and cut. “Only time I’ve seen him so interested in another is with his fellow Seekers; on the rare occasion we meet with any, that is.”

| Eric smiled “I’m honoured then, I guess.” He reached down and picked his boots, which he had not yet put on. “I was wondering… Rothar said that you might be able to take my boots and make them more appropriate for this climate.”

| Naffit scratched his head “Curious armour, those.” He looked down at Eric’s feet, planted partly in the white sand. They were a little strange themselves - five toes and very fragile looking. “Ah… well, perhaps humans need a bit of extra protection; what did you have in mind?”

| Eric explained the concept of a sandal as best he could to Naffit, who was quite interested in the new challenges the human posed to making clothing. Over the course of the next couple hours, Naffit crafted him a chest belt, and sword belt. He managed to take the boots and convert them to a perfect pair of rugged sandals. He even made Eric chin and forearm guards that were like Geff’s, to protect his more fragile body. Or so Naffit put it anyway. After he was finished, Naffit was quite proud of the specialized work. He talked with Eric all the while, asking about clothing in his world and how they came by it. Eric’s explanation of Malls, Factories and mass production left Naffit glad he knew all his customers. The more he talked about Earth, the less Eric walked to go back. Naffit’s last instructions were to go back to Rothar’s cover and wait for him there.

***

| Rothar returned not long after, accompanied by Massic. For the first time since last night, Eric was uneasy about his presence in the Zagoran tribe. Massic’s presence in the roofed cover was overwhelming - standing so much taller than Rothar. Side by side, Rothar’s muscular body seemed only slightly so next to the bulging mass that was the tribe’s leader. Unable to help himself, Eric’s gaze shifted down momentarily to Massic’s big toes; toes that has nearly killed him not more than a day before. They were just as incredible as Rothar’s, though a bit more rugged. On this second closer look, Eric noticed that Massic had scars about his body - the remnants of slashes along his chest and legs. He figured they were from his many battles with the Hethren tribes over the years.

| Massic noted the human’s uneasiness and its gazing upon his every feature as it tried to reason out more of who and what he was. The Zagoran leader strode over to Eric and lifted his toes to the human’s face, wiggling them slightly as he said “Afraid I might unleash these on you again?”

| Eric gasped, though not so much from fear as delight. There were the huge Zagoran’s toes, wiggling only a few centimetres from his nose. It was the closest, clearest look he had gotten yet! He could even smell the faint musty scent they produced - almost sweet, at least to him anyway. The scales between each of the toes twisted and wrinkled ever so slightly, and the then the big clawed foot lowered and planted itself on the floor in front of him. Despite his amazement (and rising excitement), the colour on his face was white.

| “Heh. Don’t worry human, I’m not here to do what I could have finished yesterday.” Massic motioned for Rothar to sit next to him, and both seated themselves before Eric in that wonderful toe-showing Zen position that Rothar had done the night before. Eric did his best not to look at their toes though, considering his company. “Rothar speaks as highly of you as of his own Seeker community. Though I cannot see why myself, I also cannot discount the words and beliefs of our village Seeker.” He pulled out a tightly rolled paper scroll from his chest belt, and laid it on the floor in front of them all. “This is a map of the village. I’m showing this to you so that you know what will happen when the Hethren come.”

| Eric smiled, Thank god… I think he’s actually accepting me! “Thank you - If I can help in some way then….”

| “I don’t remember asking you anything that would warrant you speaking, human.” Massic’s low tone cut Eric off and turned him white again. “I’m telling you this so that the creature Rothar thinks so highly of won’t end up dead at the claws of a Hethren. If you’re quite ready to listen, I’ll continue.” Eric nodded quickly and swallowed. “Good. With a cliff at the back of our village, the Hethren can only approach from this side.” His big claw pointed at a one third section of the village not backed by the cliff. “The entire area, as you might have noticed when you arrived here, is covered in thick thorn bushes. The only way through to us is through them.” Massic looked up at the human, whose face was a picture of confusion. “Let me guess, you wonder how that’s possible since you walked through an easy path to our village?” Eric nodded again. “That’s understandable. Rothar can use his Jantra to pull the thorns about us, closing in any gaps. The Hethren then must go through them, and that will slow them down.”

| A chill ran over Eric. “Sorry to interrupt again, sir, but don’t you mean stop them?” Eric cringed with Massic’s deep laughter.

| “Stop them?! Thorns? Hethren care only about destruction. If they have to go through 100 paces of thorns and tear themselves to pieces just to get to us, they will!” Massic leaned closer to Eric, who could now make out every scale around Massic’s yellow eyes. “And come through it they will. That is why we must be prepared to face those that make it here, and why you must know what to do when they come.” Massic gently cupped one side of Eric’s head in his massive hand, hissing softly “And what a prize you might be to a Hethren or two that found a human who didn’t know how to defend himself.”

| “Somehow I think frightening Eric to death is not going to lend to his warrior spirit.” Rothar was holding his pale gaze on Massic. Surprisingly, Massic didn’t seem to be bothered by it the way everyone else was. Massic laughed and took his hand from Eric, returning to an upright sitting position. “Very well, but it’s best he know just how dangerous they really are.” He turned and looked back at Eric “Almost as much as I.”

| Rothar’s eyes rolled momentarily before he looked to Eric. “Massic is right about being prepared Eric. When they come, we must face them and defeat them. With luck, you won’t need to engage them with us, but if even one can get through to you…” Rothar’s voice trailed off, the events of the dream the night before were suddenly in the forefront of Eric’s mind again.

| Massic rolled up the map and placed it in Eric’s hand “Get to know that as if you were raised here. Against my better judgement, you will receive a sword from Graven’s hold, and we will have to instruct you on the basics of using it against the Hethren.” Massic pointed a claw at Rothar “Again, Seeker, since you suggested to me that he be armed, you will show him how to use that arm. His life will depend on it, so show him the warrior in you, not the Seeker. Is that clear?”

| Rothar nodded “As you wish, sir.” Massic rose to his feet, as did Rothar and Eric. “I wait for your signal then my friend, tonight.” Rothar lifted his arm, and Massic took it, each gripping the other’s forearm, claw and claw.

| “Dar Souljeth help us all this night.” Massic, for the first time since Eric had seem him, had a glimmer of concern on his face before leaving Rothar’s cover to return to the tribe counsel.

| Eric felt a big hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Rothar holding it reassuringly. “Don’t let his ways bother you. He is hardened by more battles and brushes with death than any other Zagoran I know. It taints charm after a time, but gives us a leader not swayed by emotions that could cause indecision.”

| “I know. The army leaders where I come from - our warriors, in a way, are the same.” Eric smiled a little to reassure Rothar, although he felt a deep sense of worry that the day was going to be the most frightening moment of his life. “I’ve just never done anything like this before, I mean, I’ve gotten into a couple fights, but that’s not even comparable. People don’t even carry swords back home anymore.”

| “I will teach you, Eric, and I will do everything I can to keep harm from your throat.” Rothar gave Eric’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then he let go, walking to his study table to fetch his sword. He belted it on, and looked up at Eric “Come - we must arm you.”

***

| Graven was the Zagoran blacksmith, or Shaper, as they called him. As with Naffit, Graven spent a good while talking with Eric and Rothar about what Eric was and the world he came from, though not quite as long as old Naffit had. Graven seemed to be very brief in his statements - purposeful to the point of brevity. His body was the most muscular thing Eric had ever seen - built up by years behind the forge and tools of his trade. He was about the same height as Rothar, but the mass of muscle made him much wider, from head to each muscled foot. He also wore a think leather smock and gloves, through which only his claws showed. Hanging on the wall behind him was a sword that had to be 6 feet long, somewhat like a Scottish Claymore, but much thicker and heavier, and obviously Graven’s, since Eric saw no way any other creature could wield it!

| Graven handed Eric a jagged-edged sword, the same as Rothar’s. “Here, hold this out before you, parallel with the ground.” Eric lifted it out, holding it horizontally from him. It was very heavy, and he hoped that he wouldn’t have to hold it there for any length of time. “Now, grip the hilt with only your fingertips, continuing to hold it before you.” Eric tried, but the sword dropped nose first into the sand below him. “Hmmm… too heavy. Let me see… perhaps a closed quarters sword would suit him.” Graven walked to a bin in the corner of his shop, and extracted another jagged-edged sword, though this one was about 3 feet long - a foot shorter than Rothar’s.

| “That should work better.” Eric took the sword from him, and did the same test. It was still heavy, but he could at least hold it extended outwards with just his fingertips. “Will this be okay?”

| Graven nodded to him “So long as you learn to use it. That will be up to Rothar, here.”

| Rothar smiled and thanked Graven for his help. In a moment, they left for an area behind Graven’s shop, which served as the training grounds for the warrior tribe. Rothar drew his sword and bade Eric to do the same. “The Hethren do not use weapons, just their size, claws and strength, but being able to trace and hold the moments of a blade will teach you the control and precision that you need to fend off their attack, and beat them.”

| Eric nodded and held up his sword. “So how do we start?”

| “Defend yourself!” Rothar came at him with a frightening speed, and his gleaming blade clanged loudly against Eric’s upraised sword.

| Eric let out a yelp and dropped his blade “Ow Fuck!.. Holy shit Rothar… you could have warned me, that bloody hurt!” Eric rubbed his hands against one another, trying to get the tingling numbness out of them.

| Rothar sighed and shook his head. “You grip your blade far to tightly. You must relax, and treat it as part of you.” He knelt low and picked up Eric’s sword, placing it back in his hands. “Like this - one hand here, the other there, press only this much…” Rothar squeezed gently, showing Eric the proper pressure.

| Eric nodded, feeling stupid for having snapped at his new friend. “I’m sorry Rothar, I didn’t mean to yell at you like that. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

| Rothar’s pale eyes locked with Eric’s “You must do it now Eric. Now ready yourself. Meet the edge of my sword in as sharp a contrast as you can. Deflect it away from you to the side, and strike back at me.” Rothar back away and raised his blade again. Eric was ready for the second charge and the loud clangs of their blades began to echo through the village.

| Tiring as the training was, Eric was soon getting a feel for it. Strangely enough, the sword, the motions, impacts - they all felt right to Eric. He wondered if it was the Celtic blood in his veins remembering times long gone. A sharp thwack on his side with the broadside of Rothar’s sword brought his mind back to the task at hand. “Ouww!” He staggered back and looked at Rothar. The look in Rothar’s eyes were not that of the Seeker anymore - the look of fire and determination chilled him to his bone. He had but a moment before Rothar came at him again with a half roar half hiss. The force of the blow threw Eric to the ground, where he managed to raise his sword just in time to deflect another swipe from the Seeker. “Rothar!” Again the Seeker’s blade came around, this time catching Eric’s sword at an angle that sent it flying from his hands. “Rothar! I’m down - stop!!” Rothar’s blade stopped in mid swipe only centimetres from Eric’s neck. Rothar blinked, and in an instant, the wild warrior look was gone.

| Rothar’s sword clattered be his side as he released it. For a moment, he stood with chest heaving; muscles rippling with the release of tension. He learned down and extended his clawed hand to Eric, who hesitantly took it. Rothar helped him to his feet and placed a hand on Eric’s shoulder. “Are… are you alright?”

| Eric nodded. “Yes… just a little sore.” He rubbed his side where the big blade of Rothar’s sword had caught him broad sided. “Good thing I didn’t get the edge, I guess.”

| Rothar leaned down to look at the bruise forming on Eric’s side. “I didn’t mean to strike at you like that… I…”

| Eric reached up and placed his hand on Rothar’s shoulder in turn. “It’s all right. You didn’t mean too. There was a time when my ancestors fought with the same warrior determination. You’re incredible at it - I couldn’t get a single swipe near you.”

| Smiling, the big lizard nodded. “Seekers learn many things; being a warrior is one of the first. I do tend to lose hold of myself when I become too focused.” The Zagoran’s hand ever so gently rested on Eric’s side, over the spot of the sword impact. It began to glow a faint red, and Eric felt a strange sensation of heat about it. It lasted but a moment, then Rothar lifted his hand away. The bruise was gone, along with the pain.

| Eric blinked in disbelief “You can use Jantra to do THAT?”

| Rothar nodded “It is to aid Eric, healing is part of aiding.” He leaned down and retrieved his blade, then took a few steps back. “There is one last thing to know. There is but one way to easily kill the Hethren; take off its head in a clean swipe.” Rothar demonstrated the motion. “They can be killed if stabbed through the heart, or to the point of being bled to death, but before they do, they could still slash out at you.”

| Before leaving for the Rothar’s cover, Rothar made Eric practice a few more moments until he was satisfied that Eric could at least stand a chance should something go wrong.

< prev | next >

- top -

- back -