by R J Kaldanis
Aardriyah jumped at the sudden feeling of soft fur rubbing against her leg, surprised that the little canine from the night before looked hardly hindered at all by the accident. In fact, it was spritely and appeared to be hungry. She bent down to scruff it’s neck, looking into its majestic orange eyes - she was startled by the realisation they looked almost human. Noticing the bowl previously laid out for it was empty she poured some more water, which it eagerly lapped it. It still looked a little unsatisfied though, so she took out the small slither of meat from her canvas bag and watched on as the canine swallowed it in one breath. The canine, seeming somewhat satisfied, returned to the temporary nook Aardriyah had made for it the night before, curling around on itself before drifting back to sleep. Pateras awoke and quietly said,
“Take the lantern with you for work this morning. It’s dark out still.” Aardriyah moved closer to the aging man, pulling a fur blanket atop him and assured,
“I’ll be fine, it’s already lighting up and the fog isn’t so bad this morning.”
He looked up at her and put the handle of the lantern in her right hand, not taking no for an answer.
“Old Man Teme said he would come by and pick it up later.” Pateras yawned, before rolling over on his side, indicating the conversation was concluded, end of story, no rebuttals allowed. Aardriyah took the lantern, her measly canvas bag of food and quietly made her way into the morning sun outside.
The walk was usually one she enjoyed, particularly at this time of the morning when no one was usually awake to gawk at her. Undina knew she needed the solace today particularly given all the events that had unfolded in the night before. It seemed that so much had happened in such a short amount of time and she wondered what had transpired between Old Man Teme and Pateras in relation to the canine. In the early morning light, she was able to make out its shape clearer, she knew she had read about this type of animal somewhere but could not, for the life of her, recall the name of the species. Either way, it was nice to have someone else in the house who stood out with the fire red tones of its fur.
As the sun rose higher in the morning sky, Aardriyah gazed at the familiar scenery around her. The land was dry and arid, tainted by the sea spray and volcanic rock. To her left were cliff faces that were unforgiving in their sudden drop to the ocean below. Beyond the cliffs stood the solitary figure of a large black volcano rising high into the sky. She hated the volcano, Mount Tromos, and everything it represented; but not for the same reasons as the rest of Veros.
Most Verosian’s despised the looming volcano as it represented the reason it served as a constant reminder of the death and destruction the fire blessed wrought, essentially causing the Wars of the Elements. The fire blessed were said to have forced the eruption of the Mount Tromos and wiped out the mainland that the Island Nations of Veros were once a part of. All the children were taught in school that this was considered a fact of history, at least that Veros was once part of a much larger colony attached to the mainland where travel was easy, fruits and vegetables grew freely, and their culture thrived in prosperity. Now, centuries later, the people of the Veros Islands still held a grudge against the fire blessed. They continued to blame them for their nation now being cut off from the mainland, making exports expensive and the once thriving agriculture industry, scarce - nothing grew particularly well in volcanic soil. Aardriyah, on the other hand, hated the volcano because it was the reason her red hair was so loathed and despised in the island; why she faced years of bullying and hurtful taunts. These small-minded people couldn’t accept anything even slightly associated to the downfall of their once great nation and since birth she bore the brunt of that hatred.
As a child, she had often wished she was in fact blessed by fire and she dreamed of making the volcano erupt once more. She thought about the ash shooting high into the sky, covering everyone who continued to hurt her, smothering them in a thick blanket, quietening their hateful words. Try as she might, nothing ever happened - the volcano remained steady and unmoving, just as the hatred and blame on the fire blessed did. It was hard as a child to accept that she was unblessed, it was harder to accept she bore the tell-tale sign of the fire blessed and didn’t even possess the slightest of fire magic either. She wasn’t the only one on the islands to not be blessed by water, but most of the other unblessed at least looked similar enough. They had curled black hair, thick and bunched and skin darkened by the intense sun that usually kissed this part of the world for an unusually long period of time. She had spent most of her life knowing and understanding that she didn’t belong and that she was of no importance, to anyone of any importance.
Someone who loved reminding her of that was none other than her employer, Miss Farrow. The tall slender middle aged woman stood in the rotting wood doorway of the Inn that Aardriyah now approached.
“Will you ever be on time?” She said hastily to Aardriyah before passing her a broom to continue sweeping.
“Good to see you too” Aardriyah mumbled under her breath. It wasn’t that Aardriyah expected anyone to be overly nice to her, but a simple greeting in a pleasant tone wouldn’t go unwelcomed. Before she had a chance to continue the sweeping, the woman returned to the door frame and as if possessed, said,
“It is so good to see you!” In a cheerful and sincere tone as she smiled. She shook her head a moment later, her usual bitter scowl returning to her face as she looked over Aardriyah and quickly darted back inside the inn. Aardriyah was completely shocked and confused, what had just happened?
After finishing the sweeping, she made her way to the bucket and sponge stick ready to clean the waste rooms. By far the most degrading and humiliating part of her job was cleaning the excrement of others. The water blessed and unblessed waste rooms were separated. While she didn’t appreciate any discrimination against the unblessed, just one look into the separate waste rooms was enough to make her understand the need to separate.
The unblessed resorted to using a solitary stick with a sea sponge attached at the end. While all waste disappeared down a hole below, the buckets filled with water to wash the sponges, was always full of disgustingly coloured and smelling liquid. It was Aardriyah’s job to empty this water, remove the sponges by hand and replace them with fresher ones. The waste rooms for the blessed were much easier to clean given they were very self sufficient and didn’t rely on a used sponge stick to clear away their excrement. On top of this, it always smelled much nicer as they also managed to wash away the waste into a small gully away from the drop hole. The unblessed’s drop holes led to mountains of excrement piled up over days, weeks and months - until Miss Farrow could afford a powerful enough water blessed to send the waste down the gully.
As Aardriyah entered the first stall of the unblessed waste room, she almost gagged. Someone had decided to leave their last deposit in the sponge wash bucket. Seriously? She thought to herself. Holding her breath, she closed her eyes, gritted her teeth and found the courage to brace a foot inside the room that reeked of putrid eggs and garlic. She had to stop herself from bringing up the meal from the night before with each step forward. Why can’t someone else do this? Anyone else? She pleaded with an invisible, non-existent god. PLEASE.
At that moment, Miss Farrow’s head, complete with black curled hair and white strands, popped into the waste room.
“I can do that!”
She said enthusiastically, as she pushed Aardriyah out of the way so she could empty the waste bucket and grabbed the sponge stick, in a trance.
“Uhhhh…. Thank…. You?”
Aardriyah said, unaware what had suddenly come over the innkeeper who was always far too good to ever get her hands dirty. Aardriyah watched on as the woman hummed, scrubbing out the waste bucket and refilling it with fresh water. She took the severely dirtied sponge off the old sponge stick, and replaced it with a fresh one that Aardriyah held. Miss Farrow didn’t even wince at all at the excrement that had since got on her hand. When she finished, she took the
tools and instruments from Aardriyah and continued on with the rest of the waste rooms, without a further word to the stunned onlooker.
The remainder of the day continued on much the same. It seemed any task that really dreaded doing, was taken over by Miss Farrow. This finally gave Aardriyah enough time to actually assist in the kitchen and begin understanding the art of food preparation. She wasn’t sure what had changed or why it had changed, but she didn’t want to ask for fear of seeming ungrateful and losing her opportunity to learn.
As Aardriyah was preparing to leave for the day, cleaning dishes and wiping down tables in the aftermath of a busier than usual midday feast, she noticed one table had been occupied by the same patron the entire day. She didn’t recall when they arrived but was sure they hadn’t ordered any food or any drink; they just sat and looked on under a deep purple hooded cloak. Miss Farrow had been in such an unusually good mood that she decided to close the inn early and allow Aardriyah and the other staff have a night off. As such, Aardriyah was dying to get back home to spend some time with her new canine friend and write in her, hopefully recovered, book. As this lone guest was the only thing stopping her from leaving the inn, she decided they needed a reminder that it was now past closing time.
As she stepped closer to the stranger, she noticed a strong glow from an amethyst amulet around their neck. The stranger noticed the glow also and glanced down before raising their gaze to Aardriyah. They slowly started to rise from their seat and continued to rise into the atmosphere, suddenly making Aardriyah feel astonishingly small and insignificant. Their long, hidden arms reached inwards to the cloak, as if they were about to pull a weapon upon her. Aardriyah realised what a mistake this had been, all the other staff had left for the day, besides Miss Farrow, but she was in a trance that no amount of danger would shake her from. Aardriyah started to step backwards, trying to reach around on the tables for a spare knife, a fork even, just something to potentially protect herself from the impending doom she now felt taking over her entire being. It seemed to be emanating from this … this thing. She couldn’t step back fast enough; it was as if time completely slowed her every move and she felt a terror like none she had ever experienced.
A laugh arose from where she soon discovered the strangers face hid, their hands suddenly reappearing from the cloak, revealing the hidden object she was sure was a weapon. Confusion, instead of panic, hit her as the stranger passed her a familiar leather-bound book with the inscription of the united nations on the front, her book, she realised. The tall figure pushed the deep velvet cloak off their head, revealing their face beneath a perfectly a bald head. It was neither distinguishably male or female in appearance. They were so closely shaven that not even a trace of eyebrows or facial hair gave any further clues as to who or what they were. The skin of the stranger was a rich golden hue and was marked with black tribal etchings, covering their long arms still holding the book out in front.
“Take it, my child.” The person said in a deep tone.
Aardriyah swallowed her fear and reached quickly for the book, almost snatching it from the stranger standing across from her. Long moments seemed to follow as the two parties resumed staring at each other, not uttering a single word. Aardriyah’s gaze fell back to the large glowing amethyst pendant, which she could now make out was in the distinct shape of an eye hanging from a long silver necklace. She wasn’t sure she was breathing, for time and space seemed to stand still as the stared into the brightly glowing amulet. An echo seemed to slightly awaken her from the trance as she heard the stranger say,
“Don’t forget your lantern. It would be such a shame if something were to happen to it.”
With those words, Aardriyah’s attention snapped back up to where the golden face covered in heavy purple eye paint had just been standing moments before. She found herself breathing heavily as if she had run a marathon and began scanning the space of the inn. The stranger was nowhere to be found. She glanced down at her hands realising that she was indeed holding her book, the very same one she had feared she had lost the night before.
As she caught her breath, Miss Farrow sung out to Aardriyah in a more pleasant than usual song like voice,
“Yooohoooo! Don’t forget your lantern!” She chimed before making her way into the front of the inn with the trusty old lantern Old Man Teme had lent Aardriyah for the day. Without paying any further attention to her current surroundings, she grabbed the lantern and almost ran the whole way home, continuously looking over her shoulder expecting to see the cloaked figure emerge from every shadow she passed.
By the time she had reached her front door, she was well and truly exhausted and had worked up quite a fright. All she wanted was sanctuary - a familiar space, with safe and friendly faces. She knew she should return the lantern to Old Man Teme, but she resigned to doing so later, leaving it on the front stoop of her house. Then she pushed the door open without a second hesitation and came to regret it an instant later. Her heart fell to the floor as she gazed upon a face unwelcome, unloving and unwanted in her sanctuary.
“Good afternoon, my darling.” A pale, wrinkled woman said, reaching out a bone thin hand adorned in rings of all shapes and sizes.
“Stella. What are you…” She barely looked in the woman’s eyes, refusing to acknowledge someone who had caused so much hurt in her life, even if it was many years ago. She glanced over at Pateras, but he offered no clues as to why this woman was standing in their living area. Interrupting the silence came a noble voice,
“Aardriyah, father suggested last night we all meet to discuss Sonas and her undertaking the trials, as a family.” Chastion rose from his chair, resting an arm on the shoulder of the woman he still called ‘Mother’.
Any other day, Aardriyah would be willing to fight this, to fight with Chastion and defend her decisions and choices. Today however, she was exhausted from the night before, the dreams that haunted her, the bizarre day and the stranger who she still felt was following her.
“I can’t do this, I need to….” she looked upon the faces staring up at her waiting for her explanation. What could she possibly say to any of these people that would excuse her from what was clearly an important conversation about the future of her family - of her so dearly loved little sister. Chastion wouldn’t understand, anything he did was considered far more important and superior to anything she might be exhausted from. Her mother would make a fuss over the fact that she had wasted her time coming to this part of the island that was now so beneath her status. Her father, well, out of everyone she knew that Pateras would understand, but he had also been the one to organise this meeting and the only person she really cared about letting down. She looked over at him, at the disappointment now spreading across his face. She decided that everything else could wait - her confusion, her fear and her need to sleep, could wait.
“Can I please just have a moment to freshen up?” She managed to ask, hoping to have just a second to wash away the day and prepare for the upcoming conversation she was sure wouldn’t end well.
After returning from the bathing chamber, she made her way back into the living area at the front of the house. She had changed into a simple cardigan and pants and plaited her hair into a side braid. She chose a seat next to Pateras and braced herself for the oncoming war of words.
“As we all know Sonas is passing her tests, better than anyone expected,” Pateras began.
“Better than you expected.” Stella interrupted, sharing a glance with Chastion.
“However, she is still so young. Aardriyah and I believe that she is too young to sit the trials.” Pateras continued. Stella rolled her eyes and huffed into her tea. Chastion also didn’t look pleased at what had just passed his father's lips and responded in what Aardriyah called his ‘prince voice’;
“Pateras, she’s four years older than I was when I left home.” Chastion reasoned; his mother nodding in agreeance as she glared down her nose at Pateras.
“I understand Chas
tion. But, if it were up to me, you wouldn’t have ever left home. Or at least not until you were old enough to make that decision yourself.” Pateras countered.
“She is old enough to make that decision. Do you want her to end up like your other daughter?” Stella once again interrupted Pateras. She narrowed her eyes on Aardriyah, before continuing her tirade,
“Tell me dear, how many waste rooms did you clean today?” Stella said in a patronisingly sweet voice.
“None, actually” Aardriyah responded quite proudly, realising that this was the exception; but her mother of all people didn’t need to know that.
“Look, I’m sure there are potential-” Chastion struggled to find words that wouldn’t offend his common family,
“-pursuits and ways to live a fulfilling life here on Veros, but father, I don’t regret for one minute the opportunity to explore the world and learn from the most blessed in the world. Why would you want to take that away from Sonas?” Chastion pleaded.
“Because she is not yet old enough to decide by herself, to know the weight of that decision, to know all that she would have to sacrifice if she were successful in the trials. She would need to leave the only place she has known as home and make a new one in The Crystal Capital. She would be constantly compared to others who are more or less talented than her, unable to make friends in case she has to fight them for a grade or for a position. Her life wouldn’t be hers’ for the choosing, she would just have to learn how to take orders and how to follow them with little say in anything that involved herself or her talents.” Pateras seemed determined to change Chastion’s mind and blurted the whole argument out in what seemed like a few seconds, his usually composed manner completely pushed aside. Aardriyah was stunned as she watched on in silence. While it was always obvious he was passionate about his children, she had never seen him truly argue in such a manner. She realised then that he would try anything in his power to ensure his children had the opportunity to make their own decisions and own choices in this life, regardless of who they might become.
