Servants and Followers

by Courtney Bowen

  “This is hopeless.”

  “Forgive him, Oaka.” She sounded even more commanding than before. “Forgive him and live. Right your errors, and remember—” Her voice changed as she spoke from the past, “...‘together you both have a chance. Together you’re both stronger than you ever could be apart You can survive this journey with him.’”

  “Forgive him. I’ve been trying, but it’s hard. I’m being dragged, just like I said I would.”

  “You’re unwilling because you don’t believe.”

  “I made no oath to Tau for Jawen. I might not believe in a lot of things, like Tau’s Cup and the whole point of this quest, but I believe in you, Sisila.” He turned to the dream figure. “I made an oath to you. You’re the one that pushed me forward.”

  “Do you believe in Basha?”

  “I—believe—”

  He woke up as he remembered something. When Basha went missing all those years ago, just after he’d found out that he was adopted, Oaka had been worried about his brother. Then he’d been so relieved when Basha had been found that—

  “Oh, balnor,” Oaka remembered an oath that he’d sworn, late at night just before falling asleep beside his brother, that he would always protect Basha.

  And it was an oath, not sworn to Tau or any other god, but he’d meant it. Many years had passed, but they were still the same, brothers by choice and not by blood.

  Oaka would’ve sat up, but he heard Basha and Monika talking in the distance. He pretended to sleep as they talked about the prophecy Basha had received and the route they were taking.

  Oaka listened, realizing Basha hadn’t shared everything with him about the prophecy, and even he’d doubted what those Black Wolves were doing. Basha had defended Fato, Oaka remembered, especially after the falcon admitted they were Black Wolves, Servants of Doomba—who had ‘powers over man and beast.’

  Though Oaka generally didn’t believe the Oracle’s words, like everyone else in Coe Baba, Basha could be in even more danger than they’d thought if Doomba wanted to stop him. But why would Doomba want to interfere with—Tau’s Cup and the Tigora’l, Oaka couldn’t get those two things out of his head.

  If Doomba wanted to stop Basha before he could find them, now would be the perfect time. It was ridiculous to think that Doomba would ever consider them a threat just because…mind you, Monika had seemed interested in joining up with them after they’d mentioned Tau’s Cup and their quest.

  Oaka paused, thinking Monika had seemed suspicious, claiming she was protecting them, but she never stated why she wanted to join. Oaka couldn’t leave Basha alone with Monika, if she was an agent of Doomba who might kill him.

  Fato was suspicious as well if the bird had lied, but Basha didn’t trust him, Oaka realized. After all, he’d threatened to leave and didn’t want to go in the first place, so Basha didn’t trust him.

  How could Oaka get Basha to trust him again, and maybe not follow Monika and Fato? Oaka had to stay and keep an eye out. Oaka cursed his and Basha’s misfortunes. Then he pretended to wake up.

  Basha and Monika were sitting too close together for Oaka’s taste. They both looked up, tense as he stood before them. Oaka wanted to question Monika right then, and wondered if she might attack him if he got too close to the truth. Perhaps he should stay quiet so that she wouldn’t suspect anything.

  “So what have you got to say, Basha, about last night?” he asked, hoping his brother would have an answer by now that would ‘satisfy’ him so that he could continue traveling with them without appearing dubious.

  Basha inhaled. “Oaka, I know I haven’t been very supportive of you these past couple of days with everything we’ve gone through, and all of the doubts you must. But I want you to understand that I trust and rely on you and you’ll always be my brother. I don’t want to let you down. I know that you want something out of this trip, and I’ll try my best to give it. I’ll ask you for advice and follow it, and if Jawen is satisfied with seeing the Cup and me alive when we go home, you might get the Cup.”

  “You can’t promise me that.”

  “I know, it would be Jawen you’d have to ask. But I’ll try to keep you safe so that you can return to Sisila. If anything else should happen, I’ll send you home to her myself. I won’t expect you to go any farther. I just believe this trip is worth it, I—”

  “Basha, I’ll give you one last chance to prove yourself to me. I accept your terms and I’ll stay with you.”

  “Thanks.” Basha hugged his brother.

  “I knew it!” Fato called from up a tree, as everyone turned to him. “I knew Oaka’s loyal! Good, let’s go have breakfast now!” He flew off in search of breakfast for himself.

  “Did that bird just compliment me?” Oaka asked.

  “He’s a good bird,” Basha remarked.

  “Do I—can I…” Monika hesitated.

  Oaka sighed. “You can join us. I’ve no problems with you. But don’t—be careful, and I’ll watch out for you.”

  Monika frowned, but said nothing then. Basha looked back and forth, sensing something was wrong, but he couldn’t fathom it. Fato seemed to be the only one unaware.

  As they ate, they didn’t speak to each other, still troubled, until Fato asked, “Can we bypass Coe Aela?”

  “Why?” Basha asked.

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about that place, after all of the trouble we’ve been through. I’m tired of resting—we just left Coe Anji.”

  “That wasn’t much of a rest.” Oaka glared at Fato as he wondered what the bird was up to now.

  “No, too many humans about.” Fato glared back. “Besides, we’ve enough supplies to last us awhile.”

  “Fato, we haven’t got enough to last us all of the way through the Popo Hills,” Basha said, “We need those supplies. Coe Aela is the only place. What is your problem?”

  “Nothing, consider it nothing.” Fato looked away. Oaka was glad he was still going on with Basha, considering Fato’s odd behavior.

  They set off, traveling steadily through that day and the next as Monika’s horse Deja, which meant ‘brother’ in the Old Language, fell into pace alongside the horses Talan and Joko.

  Monika usually was quiet, while Basha and Oaka sang or told stories to entertain themselves. Occasionally, she could be prompted to talk about the Za Desert, but not much else. She was an experienced traveler, though, and a good hunter, but Oaka still didn’t trust her. He watched her at night when she was on guard duty, sitting by the embers of the fire, staring down at the smoky remnants, or else vigilantly looking around.

  The next morning, Monika confronted him. “Why are you still traveling with us?”

  “There is no ‘us’ with you in it.” Oaka scoffed.

  “For real.”

  “You never really answered that question of ‘why did you come with us?’ either.”

  “I did, I want to protect you all.”

  “That’s not the real answer. You know something about us, about whatever it is we’re supposed to be searching for. I heard you and Basha talking yesterday morning about his prophecy. You know who controls man and beast, and you know what the Tigora’l is.”

  “Don’t, not here, not now. I don’t know everything, but—”

  “I’m here to protect my brother from your deceit and lies.”

  Monika glared at him, then stomped off as Oaka sat down on the ground, confused, angry, and upset about everything. His mind wandered as he stared at his hands, trying to remember that dream from the other night with Sisila and the forest fire.

  Fire was passion, he knew, his love for Sisila. Yet fire was anger as well, how he had set that bush on fire and Hastin’s wooden sword. Fire, passion, anger, the recipe was there…he knew how to summon his magical powers now. He concentrated on his anger and passion, and the spark appeared in his fingers.

  Chapter 7

  The Story

  Would you let me tell you a lie? Would

  You believe every word that I’d said?
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  Would you let me believe that every word

  You told me was true as well? Who lies then?

  ~ Lies, Tarak

  Later that afternoon, Monika listened to Basha and Oaka, then asked, “What sort of legends do you know?”

  “All kinds,” Basha said. “The Old Man told us many when we were young, and then there are the ones in ‘Legends of Arria’ and ‘The Chronicle of the Knights’ that we’ve…”

  “I know one,” Oaka interrupted, turning to her. “You may not like it.”

  “Try me.” She said.

  “There are different versions of these legends.” Oaka said. “Some intended for children at story-time, but others, the most gruesome, are kept inside red-marked pages of ‘Legends of Arria’ for adults. Here is one I first read when I was thirteen.”

  The Forest Myth

  The four gods who’d first risen out of the water spread apart, exploring their new domain. Mila went to her forest. Willowy and tender, Mila was as supple as the leaves on the trees she’d made. She smiled to herself, looking around in admiration at what she’d created, the beauty of the trees and the forest sprouting.

  She was the forest goddess, but also goddess of mystery and magic, love, animals, knowledge, the earth, females and their offspring, creation and water before other gods and goddesses came along and took up some of her duties. The forest belonged to her, and she walked through it, growing every plant that would cover the earth.

  The earth was her home, her mother ever since she’d fallen from the sky. She still needed sunlight, and water quenched her thirst, but she nestled within the earth at night and slept, satisfied that she was safe and well protected.

  Popo went up to the mountains that he’d built, but came back to visit her whenever he was lonely, and saw what she’d created. He loved her in his own way, snow and ice melting whenever they embraced.

  Trees grew upon his slopes, but she felt no warmth from him that could compare with the earth she adored. It felt soft and rough in her fingers, crumbling into dust whenever she touched it, yet firm beneath her feet. She stood rooted upon the earth, never dreaming of wanting more.

  Animals came to her when they wanted to be fed, and she provided them with food through nature. She could think of no better life for these creatures. She knew many things about the forest that the other gods didn’t know, and she kept these secrets to herself. She couldn’t share these secrets without spoiling something perfect. She kept that perfection within herself.

  Then she came across Menthar. Menthar was wild, alive for the first time as he looked up at the sun and wanted to shine and burn brighter than his brother. He moved fast, spreading his flames through the forest as he laughed, enjoying himself and feeling strong and invincible.

  Then he came across Mila. He grabbed and gripped her so tightly that she couldn’t escape as he burned, scorching and searing her branches. She screamed as his flames consumed her. Pained and overheated, she cracked and fell onto the forest floor. The crash disturbed everything for miles around.

  Menthar skipped over her and continued on, not even feeling remorse for her death. The forest burned to cinder and ash, and he controlled the flames, not thinking that he would be punished.

  Popo, who’d gone to higher ground to look over the land, spotted the flames and smoke from a distance and then heard Mila’s cry. He rushed back, and saw the whole forest had been destroyed. Popo was unmoved by most things, but when he saw Mila’s corpse on the forest floor, he wept, and snow blanketed the earth.

  He picked up Mila, as if she was nothing more than a leaf in his arms, and carried her up the mountains. Loqwa came and followed the snow to where the mountain god held his beloved.

  “I’ve come to take her away. She won’t disturb you anymore.” Loqwa’s voice, low and soft, but firm and undeniable, was perhaps the first to speak, the god of death.

  “I don’t want her to leave.” Popo’s voice, as rough and uncouth as the rock he seemed to be made of, cracked when he spoke of her. “Where will you put her?”

  In darkness, Mila awoke and looked around. Darkness and light swirled together, forming a tunnel. “What is this place?”

  “This is the spirit world of the dead. It’s almost empty, for now.” Loqwa turned to her.

  “I can’t be dead.”

  “We’re not immortal, at least not yet. We’re gods who have charge of our worlds, but that doesn’t mean we’ve immortality. We must earn immortality with our powers.”

  “No one told me that. I’ve done enough, haven’t I? I’ve helped the animals, grown the forest.”

  “Not yet, I’m afraid. There’s more yet to do. One moment, I’m speaking with Popo in the living world.”

  “In the earth, where she belongs.” Loqwa insisted, “She doesn’t belong among the living anymore. She’s dead.”

  “I refuse to believe that.”

  “We nearly did die in the water, do you remember?” Loqwa closed his eyes, smiling. “I remember the water closed in over us. And though we might have struggled, it would’ve claimed us in the end.”

  “How can I earn immortality when I’m already dead?”

  “Do you want immortality? It’s a hard thing to have, or so I’m told. You’ll have to live with it for the rest of your existence.”

  “The earth saved us.” Popo said to Loqwa. “The earth rose to greet us, because we were meant to live and populate the earth.” Popo glanced down at his beloved tenderly. “Mila would’ve seen to that. She knew that we couldn’t live without a reason. We were meant for more in this life than to die.”

  “I want immortality.” Mila nodded.

  “Then I’ll tell you how to get it,” Loqwa said.

  “She’s dead, she can’t do anything more than lie there, dead.” Loqwa said to Popo. “I need to take her to the other side, and consummate this event.”

  “Yes, she can do more. Bring—her—back!” Popo roared. “Bring her back, and let us live forever.”

  “I can’t, it isn’t my job. I’m in charge of death, not life. I only take her away after she dies so that she doesn’t disturb the living. She’s in my domain now.”

  “The first thing you must do,” Loqwa said, “is gain believers.”

  “Believers?”

  “Believers who will hear what you have to say, and decide that you’re their goddess. They’ll worship you for all that you’ve provided to them. That’s belief, which leads to immortality.”

  “What if you can bring her back?” Popo towered over Loqwa. “Have you even tried?”

  “How could I? Life has barely even begun, death hasn’t been part of it until now.”

  “How can I get believers?” Mila asked. “All there is to worship me is you, our brothers, and the animals. Where is the belief in that?”

  “Menthar took, raped, and killed her,” Popo said. “Surely that’s unnatural enough that she could be brought back?”

  “I believe in you.” Loqwa told Mila.

  “I don’t know about life. I only know about death,” Loqwa glanced down. “However, I might reconsider...for a price.”

  “I believe in life, for I’m death. There cannot be death without life, nor life without death.” Loqwa told Mila. “I believe in you for I have nothing else to believe in. You’re the source of life here.”

  “What price?” Popo asked.

  “You must make it cold or snowy every few months, and rain every few days or weeks, depending upon the place. There are places that’ll almost always be hot, dry, cold, wet, any of the above combined. In all of these things, let it be, for there’ll be things out of your control. You may be a god, but you’re one of many, powerless to do anything without the help of others when each has their domain. That’s the way it’ll always be.”

  Popo frowned, but nodded.

  “What do you want from me?” Mila asked.

  “A taste of life,” Loqwa approached her. “A taste, that’s all, to know what life is and why it’s valuable.”
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  Mila and Loqwa kissed, embraced, and caressed one another. “That’s good.” Loqwa said.

  “I’ll grant you what you want.” Loqwa said to both Mila and Popo then. “The price has been paid. Many things will come of it.” He retreated back to the spirit world.

  Mila breathed again in Popo’s arms. “Popo?” She gazed up at him, shocked.

  “I’m right here,” He grasped her close to him.

  “I was—I’m not—”

  “You’re not dead, you’re alive!”

  “That wasn’t what I was going to say. I was pregnant, but now I’m not. Where’s the child?”

  Down in the valley south of hills and forest, grass grew for the first time, followed by flowers. From one of these flowers, blooming for the first time, petals opened to reveal a being no bigger than a seed sitting on the flower.

  The being jumped down, growing to the height of a cat by the time its feet touched the ground. He walked across the valley, growing to the size of a child, then a man, and then even bigger as he went to the hills and forest where his parents lived.

  Meanwhile, Popo found Menthar, and punished him for the very first crime. Mila testified against Menthar as the first witness and victim, with Popo as the first judge who sentenced Menthar to banishment, since he couldn’t bring himself to execute his brother.

  He sent Menthar to the desert that had formed on the other side of the hills and forest, where Menthar would burn under the hot sun without anything to sustain him. Menthar went with the full force of Popo and Mila pressed against him, but he hated it.

  Popo and Mila settled down, uneasy and restless with everything left unsettled. Suddenly, they were startled by the appearance of a strange, new god that they’d never seen before.

  “Who are you?” Popo asked.

  “My name is Tau. I’m your son and Loqwa’s son and Menthar’s son and Mila’s son, of course.” He said, looking around at his first two parents.

  Mila and Popo stared at each other in horror.