Chapter 1 Saphire’s beginning
The house is dark when I wake up. My brother, Hattori, is usually outside chopping wood right now. I climb out of bed, stopping to drop a small sprig of willow into the crystal jar of Will ‘o Wisps that rests on my night table. They flare up in response to the food.
The room is now well lit. I pick up the jar by its snake-wood handle and creep over to the window. I wince at the scuffing noise of my feet on the bare floor; it sounds so loud in the quiet house. I push aside the woven grass curtain that covers the small aperture. Normally I would see my brother readying the wood outside so that mother could cook breakfast, but not today. The small area outside is void of people, and the axe is lying atop the flat stone on which wood is chopped. Tory is nowhere to be seen. As I sneak down the hallway towards the kitchen, I stop to peek into his room. Perhaps he is still asleep?
No such luck. I continue on my way, stopping in the den in front of a portrait of father. A feeling of unease descends upon me and my hair stands on end as I gaze up at the only reminder, other than my memories, of what father had looked like. My intuition tells me that something bad has happened.
I shake myself and continue on to the kitchen. It is as empty as Tory’s bedroom had been. I walk outside into the crisp air of a mid-autumn morning. The soft light of the sunrise is tinged with soft tones of pink, orange, and green courtesy of the deadly miasma constantly waiting just outside of the boundaries set by our protective Scion.
The feeling of dread only strengthens as I walk into the shed and realize that he is not there, sneaking some of mah-len’s homemade wine, either. I glance to the main plaza of our village and recall the day before, when Tory had claimed to have found a small, red stone by the aqueduct that had been rigged to flow through from the River. He had claimed that the stone had disappeared, the reason for which, he could not supply. He is not down there searching for his treasure, either.
As I turn to go back inside, a shape in the soft mud catches my eye. My heart accelerates as I realize that they are shoe prints, the tread on which matches Tory’s boots. They were spaced as if he had been running.
As I clamber over the low fence and pursue my older brother’s trail, my thoughts stray back to when I was eight years old, and father had become ill. He had gone to The Trista Swamplands to try and talk some sense into Resche, who had convinced himself that if he were to drink from the Gulf Inlet of Giziza enough, he would become immune to the miasma.
My uncle had made himself sick on the miasma- laden water, but father had been the one to be bitten by a Bi-yot fly and contract a serious stomach ailment that had become terminal within a week of his return home. Tory had comforted both myself, and our little sister Ta’ea, and still managed to help mother around the house.
Brushing the tears from my eyes, I continue tracing the path until I stopped abruptly. My movements were very sluggish. I was dangerously close to the miasma, with barely a foot between the boundary and myself. The prints continued off into the miasma. “No…” The word was but a whisper, as I turned back to the house, but it was echoing as loud as a thunderclap within my head. Tory was gone.
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I am in my room again. I had left mah-len about ten minuets before, once I was sure that she would not go charging off after her son. It has been three full hours since I had realized that my big brother was gone. It was almost impossible for anyone to survive for that long in the miasma without a protective crystal, and none of them were missing. He was presumed dead.
The small group of our close friends who had searched for him while I comforted my mah-len had turned up empty handed, their searching in vain. They were out spreading the news throughout the village and to the neighboring Vilit messengers by the River, who would tell our relatives, who lived further off.
I hear footsteps coming down the hallway, towards my room. Then, a familiar voice: “Saphire?” asks Stet cautiously. He knows how emotional I get, especially at times like these. I do not answer him. He pushes aside the beaded curtain that hangs over my doorway and enters the room.
I look up at him through the haze of tears coating my eyes. The dim light from the jar on my night table glints off of his dark blue-silver hair. He sits next to me on my bed and gently wipes the tears from my face. He pulls me into a tight embrace.
“It’ll be alright. We’ll find him.” He begins smoothing my hair back from my face, just as he has since I was eight years old. Every time I cried, he was there for me. His words and his actions calm me enough for the tears to stop. Eventually, he speaks again. “Reyna’s waiting for you at your spot on the Roal. She wanted to talk to you.”
Reyna. She had been my best friend since I was three, when she and Stet’s family had moved to Japas after the great tragedy of Scasa. “Alright.” I state hoarsely. “I’ll go to see her.”
He smiles a sad smile and takes me by the hand, helping me off of the bed and out of the room. He hooks a small pendant off of a plaque by the door and slides it around my neck. As we walk outside, the pendant’s crystal responds to the sunlight and begins to shine. Just as we approach the village limits, he pulls me into another embrace.
I bury my face in his neck and let out a shuddering breath. “I’ll see you later.” I tell him. My voice is still rough with tears.
He delivers a quick peck on the cheek before releasing me. “I’ll be at the shop when you return, love.” I nod once, turn, and begin the trek up to the hidden path to the plateau overlooking the River Roal.
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Reyna is already there, waiting for me when I arrive. She is sitting on a boulder that is half-obscured by the ground; an identical one rests beside it. She is plucking small stones from the ground and flicking them out over the Roal. They bounce two or three times over small stepping-stones within the river before plummeting into the cool water below. It was a game that we have played together since we were very young. As I go from the soft dirt path to the rough stone outcropping, I kick a rounded stone down the hill to hit the water with a loud Plop! She motions for me to take my seat next to her.
It is a long moment before she speaks. “He’s not coming back, is he.” She never was one to be subtle.
“Guess not.” I state simply.
There is another moment of silence. Then, she glances over at me before she speaks again in her Scasian-accented voice. “You know, I’d say that I was sorry for your loss, and that I was sorry for what happened to him, but we both know that it won’t bring him back. And knowing you, you’re probably about ready to gag on how much of that bull you’ve swallowed already. Just know that I’m willing to help in any way I can, and I know what you’re going through.”
She calmly continues to toss the pebbles into the river, as if her speech had never even occurred. I can feel another round of tears trying to fall as I think about how she had lost her parents, most of her aunts and uncles, and an entire village worth of friends when Scasa’s crystals had been destroyed almost 13 years ago. She certainly can empathize.
“Thank you.” I whisper. She turns to look at me, her blue-green eyes full of understanding and concern.
Suddenly, her mouth curls into a mischievous smile. “C’mon, S. Let’s get goin’ before your mom starts getting to thinkin’ that you’ve run off, too.” I try to return her smile. We walk back to the village in silence, side by side.
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It has been about three months since my brother disappeared. I may never get over it, but I do not cry as much either.
Today I am going to hitch a ride to Laidra with the village caravan. It is the men’s turn this year, but I wanted to go back to school to finish my education. I am to accompany them for the first leg of the journey, until they head towards Uait, at which time they would drop me off at the Laidran castle town. I would then ride back with the Laidran caravan when they made their way down to the Japas Peninsula.
They only let me travel with them for two reasons. One, I am good friends with princess Viera, and two, I could protect them from my cousin Brennovyn. He knows that I would tell my aunt Av’Asra that he had been thieving again if I catch him at it.
I stay close to Stet the entire way, even accompanying him into the Hannan Forest. We let Miiko and Jerome go to the Irrik mining town to get supplies. Miiko, being Laidran, received more respect than most of us. Jerome was much more level-headed than Miiko, and often kept him out of trouble.
When we finally arrive at the town, I give Stet a goodbye kiss and wave sadly to all of them as they continue down the dirt road. They are to stop at the sluice, visit Uait, camp on the lakeshore, then go to the Mines before returning home. I can still see Voridus chatting animatedly with Stet and Jerome. He is excited about visiting his cousin Tranue in Uait.
I sigh and turn to the task at hand. School. Lucky me.
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As I walk alongside the Laidran caravan, I feel a sinking feeling. It only worsens as Japas draws near. It has only been two weeks since I parted with my home village’s caravan, but already I miss Stet with a passion that makes my knees weak and my heart ache. Honestly, I tried to keep up the pleasant conversation with Dar’Riis, leader of the caravan, but I kept focusing on the dread that hangs heavily in the air.
I glance over to the side, only to realize that Dari is staring at me. “Is something the matter, Sapiria?” he asked, worried.
“No. It’s just...” I sigh, not knowing how to continue.
“Are you tired? We could stop...”
”No, I’m fine.” This is a lie, but I don’t care. I just want to get home. As we parted ways just before the Drakkonia Cavern, the feeling hits me worse than ever.
I am reminded of that morning when I awoke to discover that my brother was missing. I clutch the mini-crystal that hangs around my neck as I make my way past the cliffs, the small pine forest, the docks, the Roal, and finally enter the village.
Reyna is waiting for me outside of my home. I immediately ask, “What’s wrong?” The look that she gives me is all too familiar. How could it not be? She had just used it three months and a week ago.
She takes a deep breath before saying, “Stet disappeared while they were on the caravan.” It takes me a moment to process this. Once I do, I black out.
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It has been almost three months.
I’m not better this time. Reyna calls me “zombie” when she’s trying to cheer me up. I don’t respond to very much these days. And I haven’t cried. I don’t laugh, either.
None of the treatments from the Psych are working. I believe that he is an old kook that needs to find a real job before a certain Japesian Saiit decides to feed him to a Drakon. Let them do what they will with her for it; just let her take care of the crazy old Psych.
I decide to escape these annoying people for a while, and slip out of the house. I run directly to the spot above the River Roal, breathing heavily as I overexert myself. I sit atop one of the boulders and play the pebble game by myself for a while.
Finally, I snap. The tears come quickly as I sob loudly, for everything that I have lost in my life. My father, my brother, my favorite great aunt Narissa had disappeared a few years ago, and now Stet. Would the misfortunes never end?
According to Jerome, he had complained about a sore neck when returning to the group on their stop at Lake Vasca. Someone had also shot at him with some sort of slingshot, most likely a child with a bad sense of humor. A silver stone that he had found had disappeared from his hand at the same time, presumably stolen while he had been distracted by the sound of the slingshot ammo missing. That still doesn’t explain why he was gone, but it makes me suspicious. Who else do I know that disappeared after finding a vanishing stone?
Once the tears are over, I glance around to ensure that I am alone. In doing so, I seal my fate when a glimmering object on the river’s shoreline catches my eye. Saiit that I am, I cannot resist investigating.
I slide down the steep plateau, using roots and creeper plants for leverage. When I finally reach the object, I pick it up. It is small and round, roughly around the size of a one-gold piece, blue as the sea. I am mesmerized by it.
A small rustling sound alerts me to the presence of a lavender colored Sri watching me from the bank. Its oversized ears stand straight up, and its tail bristles. Judging by how it hasn’t yet attacked, it is a female, and a curious one at that.
I am about to shoo it away, when a loud CRACK sounds and my neck explodes in pain on the left side. Panicking, I dash to the bank of the river and climb up halfway. I wipe my hand across the side of my neck and look at it. No blood. I also notice that the stone has disappeared. I swallow hard and scramble the rest of the way up the bank, ignoring the throbbing pain in my neck as I dash home.
I sneak back in through the back door, only to find my ten-year-old sister, Ta’ea, waiting for me. She glares at me from across the small dining table. “Mah-len isn’t happy about this. You shouldn’t disappear like that.” She states.
“Whatever.” I mumble in response. I walk down the hallway to my room and slide the rarely used door into place, bolting it shut for privacy. I fall back onto the bed fully clothed and stare hard at the ceiling, willing myself to fall asleep.
I have a final thought as I begin to pass out. I remember Tory finding that red stone by the aqueduct, and Stet finding one by the lake. I have the same neck pain that Stet and, now that I think about it, Tory had complained of. And now I had found a blue stone, much like the other ones. Panic washes through me, making my blood run cold. What would happen to me? Was I cursed? Would I... would I...
I pass out before I could finish the thought.
I'd give my input on this, but you already know what it is. Great work ^_^
ReplyDeleteKatie-- I love your word choices-- "wince" "aperture" "dread" . So precise and vivid. Very nice :)
ReplyDeleteMrs. Onkst