Revelations (Song of Sophangence Book 4)

by E. I. McAllistair

  With that, he ignored any further commentary from Hobb. He gave himself a quick look, to confirm there was nothing he could see as being offensive about his apparel. Once he was sure, he returned his attentions to Yatik.

  “I found nothing wrong with what I am wearing. This is not to belittle the village, but we are not exactly at a black-tie affair out here. Why is my clothing such a bother?”

  “It is not necessarily problematic for the day to day interactions. Frankly it would give a much better impression to most villagers given its extremely humble nature. This way they would not expect you to already view yourself as better than them. I did plan to introduce you to the elders though, and even I usually dress up for that as you can see.”

  Anaar understood her concerns more once he realized she was right about her own preparations. Not wanting to be seen as an obstinate brat, he made the decision to make a quick trip home to change, much to Hobb’s smug glee. When he opened a portal to his room, he was stopped by Yatik.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I was going to change. I didn’t know we were doing something special. I should have asked.”

  Yatik shakes her head furiously. “No, it is all my fault. This is not something I should have kept as a surprise. There are many taboos you could unknowingly fall into that I failed to warn you of. I have a better idea. Since we were going around the village anyway, why don’t we stop by the store to get you some clothing for the occasion. Wearing the clothing of our people will only help to endear you to the village more.”

  Anaar nods in agreement, finding her suggestion to be an acceptable alternative. Though Hobb disliked not having control over the outfit that Anaar would be changing into, he was at least happy there would be a change. Just before Anaar closed the now unneeded portal, a face peered in and began shouting whilst waving.

  “Hi Anaar’s mom! Well, real mom. Bio mom? Whatever. You are really pretty. Now I know where Anaar gets it from!”

  The portal snaps shut abruptly as Anaar rubs the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle. “Sorry about that…”

  “I presume that was Phavian?”

  “You would be correct. He has this need to be seen…”

  “He is a handsome boy. He should be seen. Why did you send him away so quickly? Are you ashamed of him?”

  Anaar had never truly thought about it in such a manner, and now the question weighed heavily upon him. No one else around had ever called him out for it, but his behavior toward Phavian when around others did give off the distinct air of embarrassment. He was indeed embarrassed, but he realized the very things that he was embarrassed about were often what he loved the most about Phavian.

  “That is something I need to figure out. I know it sounds stupid, but I have not properly explored my feelings on the matter.”

  Yatik nodded and did not press the issue further. Instead she led them outside, down the path, into the heart of the village. This was Anaar’s first time seeing the village. As they walked, there was always the conflicting reactions of the reverence shown to Yatik, then the recognition of him next to her. The reactions ranged from fear to disgust, usually from older residents. Younger residents were much more agreeable it seemed, many of them noticing him first, their gazes often bearing thinly veiled lust, only to be ripped from their reverie by the woman standing beside him.

  As they walked, Anaar had the opportunity to examine the various architectural styles more closely. There were far more modern buildings in the village than he realized. They were interwoven seamlessly with the clearly much longer standing structures. When they finally arrived at the store, he realized it was a store that only sold clothing. His time at Sophangence had caused him to forget that most things were not built with the absurd attention to multifunctionality that was common on the school grounds.

  The store was well stocked, and their offerings quite varied. Even without further exploration of the village, it was clear this was the only clothing store available, which was why there was so much to choose from. Yatik brought them to a section that appeared to be geared toward formalwear. Noticing her hesitation as she looked around nervously, he decided to inquire as he would be unable to complete the task without her assistance.

  “Is something wrong? I have been told many times by several people that I can’t be trusted with my own wardrobe. I can assure you I would only mess things up if it were left to me.”

  “At least you finally acknowledge the truth!”

  Hobb, don’t start.

  Yatik stops the wringing of her hands once she realizes that she is being spoken to. With a deep breath, she begins to explain. “I grew up in a prominent family of the village, and my position as High Shamaness has led me to countless formal events. I have a very good understanding of men’s fashion but…” She pauses as if she was about to speak something that was unsuitable for young ears. “I have never been in a relationship where I had to dress a man, and now my first opportunity to dress my son has come when he is a fully matured man!”

  Anaar initially attributed her distress to a cultural difference, but then he contemplated her position. If he was tasked with dressing Maggie, he would be at a loss. He then realized he would likely just choose something similar to what he would wear and found Maggie was not a good example. He then thought of Stefani, and he found his heart began to thump.

  Even on the blandest of days, Stefani was well put together. From the outfit, to hair and makeup, he had become accustomed to seeing it, but could never imagine replicating it if he was tasked with such. It was made even more difficult when he added it being appropriate to impress in a formal setting. With such imagery in mind, he had now become nervous. Realizing Yatik would not bring herself out of the state on her own, he took a moment to compose himself and tried to move them forward.

  “I thought about it, and I can understand your fear. I couldn’t do what you are trying either. I realize this is also a first impression too, so it makes it even more stressful. Maybe we can ask the clerk to give us some advice?”

  “Oh no! That would never do! Then it would get around that the High Shamaness was too incompetent to even dress her son!”

  Do people really gossip that much around here? And about something like this of all things? I suppose it is a small, isolated village…

  “If asking for help is out of the question, we will just have to make our best attempt and hope I can supplement the lack if there is any, with my personality.”

  Surprisingly it appeared Yatik held his ability to win others over in much higher regard than he did, because his final words very quickly calmed her down. From there she was able to peruse the offerings quickly, finding an entire ensemble in a matter of minutes. When she had chosen the pieces, Anaar stepped in to assist with the sizing. Even he had difficulties finding sizes that fit his frame, which meant Yatik would be even more at a loss.

  With everything assembled, he stepped into the fitting room to change into the outfit. When he stepped out, Yatik squealed with joy, her eyes beginning to tear up. The intricately patterned shirt was a snug fit, but not overly tight. The length was appropriate, and the colorful zigzagged pattern of red, white, yellow and black only accentuated his musculature and complimented his skin tone.

  Anaar found the pants to be a unique mixture of classy, yet functional. When he thought formal, it always brought to mind thin pants that felt as if they could rip at any moment, and barely more than a light smattering of threads. These pants had a deceptive ruggedness to them that was hidden in their elegance. The boots he was now wearing were not his favorite, but he acknowledged that the only boots he had ever worn before were snow boots, which were all function and no flair. He decided to put them from his mind for now, hoping they would grow on him.

  “This is so wonderful! This is like a dream come true! Everything fits you so well!”

  Anaar nods in agreement as he smooths the cloth on his body. “I admit I was surprised too, but then I remembered that most of th
e men here are built like me anyway. I may still be a little out of the norm, but with so many others being not far off, it makes it much easier to deal with. I usually have the worst time with clothing.”

  Yatik then scrambled throughout the store, searching for the perfect accessories to accentuate the outfit. This process took longer than finding the pieces for the core outfit, but Anaar simply used the time to become more accustomed to his appearance. Once she had found the pieces and paid, Yatik set about placing them appropriately about his body. She found something was still missing, which she finally realized was his hair.

  Anaar had never been one for excessive manipulation of his hair, preferring to keep it simple, but Yatik insisted he allow her to style it for him. From there he portaled them back to her home where she sat him down and began the process. Utilizing a pomade of sorts, with some difficulty she slicked his hair down in two sections, and braided them into two braids on the sides of his head. When she was finished, she adorned it with a few accessories and then wiped her brow as she surveyed her work.

  “Goodness, and I thought I had a lot of hair! This process is so much more difficult on someone else, and I am sorely out of practice! I do believe it turned out well though!”

  Anaar studied himself in the mirror, finding someone he barely recognized. Given his disregard for his appearance, he found it quite jarring how different he looked styled like those who shared his blood. He had a sharp pang of sadness and regret as he fantasized what it would have been like to be standing next to Yefferson in similar attire. Shaking off his gloom, he focused his attention on trying to impress, and at the very least, not embarrass himself and Yatik.

  When they left the house again, instead of making directly for the store without stopping, they took many detours, where Yatik educated him on the history and customs of their people, or introduced him to people of the village. Anaar once again noticed the difference in reception based on age. People around his age were quite interested to talk to him about his experiences living outside the village and if they were missing much by staying. Anaar found himself overwhelmed by just how much they wanted to know, and how many of them seemed to want to flee the isolation they had always known.

  The older individuals met him with cold disregard, something Anaar suspected would be much worse if it had not been for the presence of Yatik. Rather than talking directly to him, if there was anything they wanted to know about him, they very respectfully asked Yatik instead. Anaar began to wonder if it was more of a cultural quirk, as he began to realize the older individuals did not interact with the younger members of their tribe either.

  The longer they spent amongst the people of the village, the larger crowds became. Anaar also noticed a shift in the attitudes of the older generation as the children of the village interacted with him and were quite taken with his presence. He had never been more grateful for his experience with Seles, as it gave him much more insight into how to properly handle children. Eventually Yatik had to break them away from the ever growing throng.

  After the exchange with so many people of the village, Anaar could immediately sense the shift in their demeanor towards him. As one could expect in such a small community, word was spreading like wildfire. Even those with whom he had not met had already received a full report from those he had. Rather than the furtive glances of suspicion he had come to know from the people, there were smiles and acknowledgement. This confused Anaar since the swing in temperament was so swift, almost as if everyone had been waiting for the opportunity to be proven wrong about the outsider that shared their features.

  They had finally arrived at a grand building of opulence, one much gaudier than Yatik’s home. Where her home exuded the humble comfort of someone who did not want for anything in life, the edifice before him sought to make the statement that none could be above them. It seemed quite out of place from what he had seen in the rest of the village. Though he would not call everyone else poor, it was clear there was a large wealth gap between the owner of this home, and everyone else in the village.

  Anaar and Yatik were led inside to a grand conference room. There they waited for a number of men, some wizened beyond belief, to arrive. As they took their seats, Anaar noticed a few younger men of their number. Anaar presumed they could not be much older than Yatik. The tension was thick as silence hung over the room for a time after all the men were seated. Unsure what to do, Anaar glanced to Yatik to find she sat with her back perfectly straight and her head held high. Her face had turned to one of steel, the soft yet matronly features giving way to ones exuding authority. After some imperceptible cue, she began speaking.

  “Honorable elders, great chieftain, I come to you as the High Shamaness presenting my son. I am aware of the confusion and controversy this has caused, and I would have liked to do this sooner, however it was unwise to rush such an important exchange.”

  One of the younger men, his garb much gaudier and unnecessarily lavish took over the conversation. “As the head of the most prominent family in the village, I wish to know more about this outsider. Speak boy. What is the name of the one who dares infiltrate our village and boldly sit at my table with the elders?”

  So this is his house? Explains the outfit that is trying way too hard…

  “My name is Anaar Vorpahl sir. I apologize if my existence has caused difficulties for anyone. It was never my intention to do such. I only sought answers to the mystery of my lineage.”

  The man observed Anaar for a moment, perturbed he could not find any flaws he could prey upon. His own sons were put to shame in aesthetics and stature. There was no wavering in his voice that indicated lack of confidence and weakness. He even wore the garb of their people as well as anyone born in the village. Instead, the man decided to attack in another manner.

  “It is clear you come from good stock, being the child of the High Shamaness. Perhaps if you work hard, with the status you gain from being her son, you will be worthy of one of my daughters. They require a strong man, one that can protect them as the outside continues to threaten our way of life. As an Air Affinity, you are not exactly cut out for that role, and it would take someone truly exceptional to be granted the hand of the most prestigious of all the Water Attuned families our nation has to offer.”

  The man smirks, finding his attack thoughtful and precise. It was not disrespectful to the High Shamaness, and barbed, with just enough flattery to not be overtly disparaging. It gave the impression that he saw potential in the boy, even though he would never acknowledge him.

  Anaar was well versed in this sort of tactic. Though he was loath to admit it, he had a wealth of experience dealing with the self-proclaimed elite from the many missions he had undertaken. It was clear the man in front of him found his very existence threatening. If what he understood from the knowledge of the village dynamics he had learned from Yatik held true, he was in fact much more elevated in status than the man put on. By his estimation, the man was speaking as if he was only blood related to Yatik, not specifically her progeny. As such, it would place him in a lower position.

  Anaar was not one for fanfare nor mindless displays, but something about this man sparked immediate distaste. Perhaps it was the change in Yatik’s body temperature and breathing that indicated her immense struggle to constrain her emotion and words. If she did not like him, it was something to be noted as she was capable of loving the man who captured her and brutalized her for months.

  With a lazy motion of his hand, a small eagle made of water appeared, the construction of which was given painstaking detail. Even the most minute of features on the pinions of the bird could be seen, as its regal flapping caused some of them to shake loose and flutter to the floor. The men in the room all gasped at the display, many of them adjusting their glasses to make sure they were seeing things clearly. If Yatik had not seen the container from earlier, she too might have been more surprised.

  The gaudy man was the first to respond, his bulging eyes and throbbing vein on his head ac
centuating how red he was becoming. “What is this?! A Water Affinity, and a True one at that?! I thought he had inherited your abilities?!”

  This was something Yatik was not prepared for, to which she could only sit stunned for a moment before responding. “It is a complicated matter…”

  The man began floundering, desperately seeking some way to regain his footing. “Well it does not matter! He may be a Water Affinity, but it does not change the fact he has yet to prove he is strong enough to be worthy of my family! My family is always a target! Without the ability to properly fight-”

  The gracefully fluttering eagle shifted instantaneously into a small knife that flew at a blinding speed, boring itself directly into the space next to where his head was. Upon contact with the chair, the shocked men realized the knife had become ice, and it was rapidly beginning to crystalize the chair. Never changing his lackadaisical expression as he looked around at the frightened men, finally settling on the gaudy man as he jumped from his chair attempting to flee the creeping frost.

  “I can assure you my combat potential is the least of your worries.”

  Pointing in fury the man began to shout. “This boy might be the son of the High Shamaness, but he has no respect for his elders! We cannot allow him to be part of this tribe! He lacks even the most basic of principles! His presence will only infect the other children!”

  Anaar stood from his chair as well, his full height and build presenting an imposing sight. “I do not know at what age children are considered to have entered adulthood in this culture, but I can assure you I am far from a child. I can only fathom what you think I am here to do, or what I want from you. Let me clear up any suspicion. I want nothing from you. My life is wonderful. I have no intention of throwing it all away for people who do not want me. I know you feel threatened by me, and quite honestly you should. If I wanted, I could take everything you have, or raze it to the ground depending on my whim. I appreciate the attempt to welcome me into the community, but it is clear I am not welcome here. I will never beg for acceptance. Do not worry about seeing me again.”