Dreams and Shadows (The Aylosian Chronicles Book 1)

by Jeffrey Collyer

  Michael was still trying to shake his grogginess as he sat up, trying to pretend that rising in a foreign world was the most natural thing he had ever done. “I sure did. Thanks.”

  He felt a little self-conscious at being observed as he awoke, but tried to smile as he apologised, “I’m sorry. I must have slept for absolutely ages. I didn’t mean to go to sleep so early yesterday. I guess I didn’t know I was so tired.”

  “I am not harmed by your sleep,” Aneh responded brightly, “and I think that your body, and your soul, are both grateful for it. So an apology is not necessary. Do you now feel rested?”

  Michael was now starting to feel a little more alive and at least physically restored. He was not sure whether he would be up to the mental and emotional challenges the day would bring him, though – not given the unpredictable events of the previous day. But he replied positively, “Yes. Thanks. But, I don’t even know whether I was supposed to sleep in this tent. You brought me here to wait for you, not sleep. I hope I haven’t made things difficult for anyone.”

  “This is my dwelling,” Aneh answered, “and it was simple for me to sleep in my parent’s tent last night, alongside my sister.”

  She had said it without any hint of annoyance, but Michael felt both embarrassed and guilty for having stolen Aneh’s tent for the night, and felt the need to apologise again, “I’m so sorry.”

  “I said already that no apology is necessary,” she said. “You say sorry too much. Here,” she pointed to another basket of food she had brought, “you will be hungry. I have eaten already, so perhaps I may begin to answer some of your questions while you eat?” she offered.

  Michael was grateful for a distraction that took his mind from the fact that he had stolen Aneh’s abode, and greedily started to help himself to the breads, cheeses, honey and fruits that were in his breakfast box as he spoke, “Thanks. Yes, it would be great if you could start to tell me about this place.”

  He was a little worried that he wouldn’t understand her explanations so suggested she start telling him about Aylosia. “I heard you mention it yesterday, but I haven’t heard of it before. Is it what this place is called?” he asked.

  Michael did his best to understand her explanations as Aneh described their land of Aylosia: a land that had been given to them millennia in the past. They had once inhabited the city of Aperocalsa that lay north of the plains, but had been driven out nearly a thousand summers ago by those who believed the Weaving was a threat, led by a man named Jashmarael. The city’s leader now simply went by the title of the Guardian. The people of the city remained their enemies, she explained, and even now would still occasionally send parties of warriors to seek them harm. Indeed, their attacks had increased in number recently. They had no idea why, and had both hoped and worried that Michael’s appearance would provide some explanation.

  Their own people were called the Elahish, and they were divided into three groups: all living in the forests of the land. The areas each group inhabited were called Waylets, and they had a different camp – or Stay – they would dwell in for each season. This Waylet, Aneh explained, travelled the Southern forest, but there were also Western and Northern Waylets. In a little more than a moon – their measure for a month – they would be moving to their Winter Stay.

  There were many details that Michael didn’t understand as Aneh talked of her land, and her people, but he finally felt that there were details he was beginning to comprehend, and the very basic knowledge he now had of where he was gave something substantial for his mind to grasp; provided a hook on which other details he would now be able to hang.

  The rain had stopped by the time he had finished his morning meal, and Aneh suggested that they obtain some clothing for him that would be a better fit. So she paused her tales and Michael followed her from the tent. The clouds had broken, and the mid-morning sun was now visible, its warm rays slowly drying the grass that was sprinkled with drops of water. It obviously hadn’t rained much, but Michael still didn’t have any shoes, and the water that was now covering his feet felt cold. Chilled blades of the damp grass clung to his feet as they walked.

  Though Aneh seemed to greet everyone they passed, it wasn’t long before they arrived at a large tent, its wide flaps drawn open. Michael saw a handful of men and women working with cloths of different colours and shapes as Aneh called, “Bilah”.

  A woman in her thirties, with long hair black as a raven, looked up at the sound, and then stood to walk over towards them. Her square face looked stern, but her light voice contrasted with her fierce demeanour as she replied, “Welcome, Michael.”

  Michael was surprised that she already knew his name and wondered what had been discussed about him, but said nothing.

  “I must apologise,” she said thoughtfully as she looked him up and down, “Aneh did her best to describe you to me yesterday, but I am afraid the clothing I gave her is far too big for you.”

  She looked him in the eyes now, “Never mind. You are here now, and I will do better.”

  After that Bilah touched, prodded, measured, and poked up and down Michael’s body with sticks and string. It was uncomfortable if not painful and it must have been half an hour later that Michael left the tent, Bilah apparently satisfied that she had all the information she needed.

  Aneh then led Michael around the camp describing the images that appeared in the fabric of the tents: naming the animals and trees that were depicted. He knew he wouldn’t remember the names, but it felt good to be getting answers that at least made some kind of notional sense to him.

  It seemed no time at all before they were back at the tent where he had met Bilah, and he was surprised when she appeared with a pile of clothes and some boots.

  “How could she make them so quickly?” he asked as they walked back to Aneh’s tent. “She was measuring me for longer than it took her to make them.”

  “She is a Plant Weaver,” Aneh replied, once again using the word as if it should have been all the explanation that was necessary.

  When he got changed into his new clothes, he found them to be a near perfect fit, and was again surprised at how little time Bilah had spent making them. The shirt was a dark brown, its rounded collar hugging his neck snugly, but with two buttons at the top to loosen it if Michael preferred. The trousers were a slightly lighter tan. The materials felt almost velvety on his skin, but when he pulled at them they felt tough as leather and he wondered what they were made of. Having been barefoot for a day or more, it felt good to finally get the boots on, and he left the tent to greet Aneh, feeling refreshed in his new wardrobe.

  He found her outside in friendly conversation with another man who Michael guessed was a year or two older than him, and who she introduced as Devu. Although Devu was dressed in similar plain coloured clothes as everyone else he had seen, he was taller than most, and was well muscled. Together with his clean blonde hair, Michael thought he would be attractive to most of the younger women in the camp.

  “Devu is the finest Sword Weaver in the Waylet,” Aneh stated, seemingly with some pride.

  Michael was sure he detected affection in Devu’s gaze at Aneh, and felt a twinge of disappointment at that. It was silly, of course: he had only known her for maybe a day, and it would be natural for a young woman of her age to be in a relationship with someone. In addition, his main desire was to understand his new surroundings – not establish relationships.

  But he had liked the fact that she carried no pretence, and she had been kind to him. So the fact that she might be committed to someone else brought with it unexpected disappointment. It seemed, however, that whatever a Sword Weaver was, it was considered important and if someone who held such an important role and was good-looking took an interest in a young woman, then that would be that, he decided.

  So he smiled and just said, “Hi, I’m Michael.”

  “Yes, I can see what you mean,” Devu said to Aneh, a sarcastic smile on his face.

  Aneh was obviously embarrassed tha
t it was clear she had been speaking to her friend about Michael and blushed slightly as she replied, “You are being impolite, Devu. Michael has addressed you, and yet you speak as if he is not here.”

  Michael thought that Devu’s reprimanded look was pretended as he responded, “I am sorry, my Promised. Of course you are right.”

  Turning to Michael with a look that was overtly sincere, but with an accompanied smile that now suggested mockery, he said, “My apologies, Michael. Welcome. I understand that my mother has afforded you temporary shelter with us.”

  Again Aneh corrected him, “The Lora has determined he may dwell amongst us, and it may yet be permanent, Devu.”

  But Devu seemed to ignore her, and Michael’s dislike for this man who had called Aneh his Promised was growing. “I am told that Aneh is to be something of a guide to you for now,” he continued, his smile widening. “If you bring any harm to my Promised, I will kill you.”

  “Devu!” Aneh shouted.

  But she could not stop him as he reached forward and grabbed Michael’s upper left arm, the bulge of his muscles showing through his shirt as he squeezed. Michael had known plenty of bullies through his school years, and knew that he would be best to elicit no reaction, and so despite the pain that was building in his arm he stood still and tried to keep it from showing in his face.

  “Do you hear me, Michael?” Devu’s false smile vanished as he emphasised Michael’s name.

  As emotionless as possible, Michael replied to Devu’s threat, “I don’t think I could hurt anyone if I wanted to. But even if I could I wouldn’t hurt Aneh or anyone else here.” For good measure, he added, “You’ve all been kind to me.”

  He hoped that his response would calm Devu, but if anything the grip on his arm strengthened as Devu leaned his mouth to Michael’s ear, now whispering, “You may have deceived the Sooth Weaver, but you will not deceive me. Leave while you yet live.”

  There was no chance for any further communication as Aneh pushed her way between them, forcing Devu to release his hold on Michael. “That is enough!”

  She turned to face Devu, her face now red with anger. “You may depart now, and do not return unless you wish to afford the hospitality afforded by the Lora.”

  Devu’s stare finally left Michael, his glance at Aneh brief before he turned and left without another word.

  Michael had felt safe in this place since late the previous afternoon. Now he was again unsure. But what else could he do?

  CHAPTER SIX:

  Weaving

  We fear that which we do not understand, and it is from that fear that we grow most dangerous. If one says the sky is red when we see it is green, we assume their lie is intended to deceive and respond accordingly. If another says they can fly, we fear they are mad, for we cannot know of any way that it can be so, and we secure them against their will for our own safety from their madness. But what if to them the sky really is red? What if they really can fly? What if it is we who see only falsehood, and they a greater truth? Would we not increase our own wisdom and knowledge if we were seek to understand why they believe such? That is not to say that we should be fools and believe all that we are told, for that would surely lead to our destruction. But equally we should not dismiss wild tales without consideration. We should not fear the unknown.

  From the Wisdom of Ashael

  ***

  Aneh had apologised and then had tried to sound natural as she showed him more of the camp, but Michael’s inner turmoil resurfaced following the confrontation with Devu. His questions, doubts, and worries were overwhelming, and coalesced to form the repeated question in his mind: What am I doing here?

  Although he had never been emotionally attached to anywhere he had lived, he wished he could go back to his flat and curl up in his armchair with a book; that he could wake up in his bed and find the last two days had been a dream. At one point, he asked Aneh if they had any books he might be able to read, hoping that he could at least immerse himself within something that would not be seeking him confusion or harm. But she explained that their books were very precious to them and they would not allow one who was new to their number to peruse them. The answer hadn’t surprised him, but he was disappointed nonetheless, and his mood remained sombre until after lunch.

  Aneh had brought some more hettlesip fruit to conclude their early afternoon meal, and the sweet juices lifted his spirits somewhat. “You’re right,” he said, “these are delicious. Are they really the best things in Aylosia?” he asked.

  For the first time since their meeting with Devu, she smiled as she responded, “I said they were the best fruit in Aylosia, and I believe that is true by far; but there are other things of which you will learn that I think you will find even better.”

  His question had seemed to provide a distraction to her and her smile became more natural, the dimple again showing in her cheek. It reminded Michael that although they were barely more than strangers, he liked this woman, and his mind was drawn again to the words of Devu.

  “So are you and Devu engaged?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

  He was avoiding her gaze, so he didn’t see the puzzled look on her face as she responded. “I do not know what that means,” she said.

  “He said that you were his Promised.”

  “I am not his Promised,” she quickly replied. She had said it with a strength that made him look at her.

  “Devu and I have been friends since our childhood,” she went on, “and he would like for us to be Entwined. It would also be well-received in the Waylet: we both have mothers who are of the Lora, and I spoke truly when I said that Devu was a great Sword Weaver – perhaps he will be the greatest we have known in a generation.”

  It was now Aneh’s turn to look away; to avoid another’s eyes as she spoke, “But though I cherish him as a friend, I could not Entwine with him.”

  Michael had never known anyone, let alone a woman, relate to him such personal feelings before, and his mood improved further with both the fact that she had done so, and that she had refuted Devu’s claim to her.

  But Aneh had grown sombre again, and he was sorry to have asked a question that had caused such a change in her emotions, so he tried to move the subject on, “I still don’t understand a lot of the words you use.” He smiled, hoping it would make her more comfortable again as he continued, “I’ve never heard of being Entwined. Where I come from, when a man and a woman who love each other decide they want to make a commitment, they will get engaged. And then they’ll get married. I guess that’s kind of like promising that they will stick by each other even when things get bad I think.”

  He was sure he hadn’t explained it very well, but hoped it was good enough. “Is that a bit like being Entwined?” he asked.

  Her head inclined to one side as she looked at him – already a mannerism that Michael would recognise as distinctly hers – thinking before she responded.

  Finally, she spoke. “You do not Entwine?” she enquired.

  At Michael’s puzzled expression, she continued, suddenly looking intense, “Entwining is more than the making of a promise. It surpasses the greatest commitment. To Entwine with another is to join your very souls together; to weld them such that your very existence can no longer be imagined without the other. Even when you are apart, you feel your beloved’s presence, and sense their emotions. Once Entwined, your very being changes. Your souls are truly woven together in a way that they can never be unwoven.”

  Michael had seen girls and women speak of marriage in his own world. He had seen their eyes go dreamy at the thought of white flowing dresses; of kissing their Prince Charming at church altars, or whatever location they might deem most romantic. But he had always sensed that such expressions were longings for the trappings of a wedding, or the unrealistic expectations for the perfect man.

  He had never before seen the look that was in Aneh’s eyes – a look that betrayed a deepest longing of the soul; an incomprehension that such a merging of souls might no
t be realised.

  “We can only be complete,” Aneh continued, “when we have Entwined; for without the soul of our beloved being meshed with our own, we are only half a soul; we will never reach the heights of our influence on the world that Ashael intends for us.”

  She studied his eyes, and then asked, “Michael, how can you live in a world where you do not know of Entwining? I could not bear it.”

  The yearning he saw in her eyes might be considered pathetic in England, Michael thought. She could be thought a sorry woman for being so desperate for marriage. But the bewilderment that covered her face at the thought that Entwining was neither present nor sought in his own world suggested to him that such feelings might be commonplace here – yet another alien concept in this world that was so strange to him. Far from Aneh being strange for entertaining such desires, Michael knew that he would be considered the one who was strange for not doing so.

  “Our worlds are very different,” Michael finally said. “I’ve never come across anything like Entwining.”

  “Then I pity your world,” Aneh replied quietly with a sincerity that touched him.

  She then brightened suddenly as she continued, “But you will come to know what I mean. There is an Entwining in no more than eight dawns, and you will be able to witness it. Then you may begin to understand.”

  At that, they packed up the lunch basket, returning it to the tent of Aneh’s parents.

  She left him to himself for much of the afternoon as she had her duties to attend to. He wandered the camp trying to remind himself of the names of different shapes and objects that Aneh had pointed out to him, but returned to the tent earlier than he might have done, concerned that he might bump into Devu again. There were, after all, only a few hundred people in the camp, and it was inevitable they would meet again some time.

  Arriving back in Aneh’s tent, he noticed that someone had brought what looked like some nightclothes and laid them across the floor rugs, but he set about examining more of the tent interior. After looking again at the various animal shapes in the tent walls, he turned his attention to the pillows surrounding the base of the central pole. As he touched them, he felt a hardness beneath his fingers. Drawing back the cloth that covered one, he found a stone underneath it, a gentle light emanating from it. He recalled the light that he had seen when he had awoken during the night and thought that it must have been from this. He remembered that someone had placed a warm rug over the top of him after he had unexpectedly fallen asleep, and thought that the same person must have uncovered this stone to provide some gentle light.