Hello all! The winner this time was the strange forest. As a little change of pace, I decided to write a vignette. Hope you enjoy!
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You wander north from Fletcher's Field. You are still an apprentice engraver for the next several weeks but have learned all you can from your master. His obligation to teach you done, he sent you off to help excavate one of the cast-offs from the Arrow. It puts your hands at risk of injury, but the grumpy old man has never given more care than the bare minimum to your future or safety.
Fortunately, your duty did not last long today. After several hours of careful digging, the priest that was monitoring the workers sent you all home. You never saw any artifacts, but you all must have been very close to whatever they were looking for. It's frustrating, the secrecy around the Arrow. With your friends help, you are now starting to understand why.
Your destination is a source of the priests' concern. The first signs of the forest that now flourished before you started growing when you were a baby. Many people thought it was a blessing from one of the gods or that a Ra'a-el had accidentally brought over some seeds from their island homes across the sea. Your friend Shapmek has a much different theory.
Speaking of xem… you can hear the young Ra'a-el's low whistle-trill echoing in the valley. Xe is not visible, but you nod with a hand to your side showing the sign you all agreed on.
No one follows.
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Your companions are waiting for you exactly where they had intended, a clearing around the blue glowing blossoms of a sapling under the cover of its forebears' twisted, stilt-like roots and corkscrew trunks. Okmat rises when you approach, smiling. You clasp hands. "I see you got your marks," she says, inspecting your face. "You wear them well!"
You smile, but soon regret it as the pulling skin stings the fresh adult tattoos that mark the skin along your cheek bones and below your eyes. She must have noticed. Her brow furrows in concern. She is a descendant from one of the Exiles and favors makeup for her marks, but she knows you wanted to honor your family's traditions. You come from a line of more liberal Etchers who have begun to use black tattooed lines combined with colorful makeups for your social marks. Another fact that you and your master have… strongly disagreed over.
Another friend, Panthal, comes down laughing from his perch on the roots of a nearby tree. "Of course, they do." You almost think he is about to thump you on the back like normal, but he seems to think better of it. Instead, he grips your shoulder gently and asks softly, "Are you sure you want to keep trying this?"
You look across this little artisanal workshop you all have set up here. Shapmek flits down from above. Xe drops a small bundle from xer talons down to your final companion, Keron. A small fire crackles in an earth-lined pit, natural wood carefully cleared of any traces of the bizarre plant life around you. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, the spicy smell of the papery, purple bark combined with the slightly sour smell of the sapling's blossoms.
"There is only one way to find the truth, now that Lekma's gone."
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Your friends all surround Keron as he stirs the concoction of stewed bark one last time before picking up a metal ladle. He pauses, raising an eyebrow in your direction. You sign, {Would you rather do it, Keke?}
Keron snorts in amusement. He has already tried, but he is apparently immune to the mind-altering properties of the bark. Instead, he has become your apothecary.
Taking the ladle, he carefully skims the liquids, focusing on the oils. They are poured into a bowl where a paste had been waiting. The glowing blue mash of several blossoms seems to absorb the oils with an unnatural quickness and then just sits there.
Keron visibly droops, but the mash seems to release, instantly melting into an unnaturally rippling liquid in the bowl. The two of you share a surprised look, but you know this is what you needed. Everything is ready now.
You take the bowl off to the side of the clearing and sit cross-legged on the ground with one of the stilt-roots at your back. You know you should not drink the potion. Trial and error have shown the effects of the bark are based on absorbing the oils through the skin. You put your hand in the bowl. It is cool and feels strangely dry. You close your eyes and concentrate, but you only hear the vaguest of whispers. A hint that is not heard by the ears, but by the mind. Going on a hunch, you scoop some of the fluid in your hands and rub it on your face.
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When you regain awareness, you are awkwardly sprawled on your side with your legs still crossed. Your eyes sting and are watering as you try to blink them clear. The space where you are is bright like the noonday sun coming in from all sides. A figure is visible, though your eyes cannot focus on them with the tears still streaming down your face.
"Who are you?" you choke out.
"Hello
keol hem. I am Chwanmi. You have found the
temeu opcheup." The mysterious person… Qshu-a-mi? They kneel down next to you and gingerly wipe your face. "Next time make sure not to get the
ipe in your eyes."
You feel a moment of vertigo and jerk as it passes. The being, Chwanmi, catches your flailing hand hand, speaking quickly. "Listen to me carefully. You need to remember this. You need to be more careful." A sudden pressure fills your head that makes you gasp.
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You start, not quite sure where you are. It is not bright anymore. You lay on the dirt where you sat before. Your friends are close by with Shapmek standing on your chest. Xe had been carefully dropping water into your eyes with the cup in xer hand. Xe hops down to the ground and twitters in concern. "You cry as blue flows. I wash it away."
You try to speak, but the crying has blocked your throat. He hands you the cup. Whistling what passes for a Ra'a-el 'thank you' you drain the remaining water. "Thanks,
cha chata. (my friend)"
You look up at your human friends that surround you. You are struck by a sudden memory that is not yours. "I know how to make this work." You realize that you sound amazed, but also that your friends weren't really listening. Instead, they are staring at you.
A touch on your cheek draws your attention back to Shapmek. Xer wing talon is tracing your tattoo on your cheek. It should hurt, but it does not. You reach up and wipe aggressively at the other cheek, but it also feels normal. No puss, concoction, or blood comes on your hands. Only traces of the water xe had been using to clear your eyes.
Okmat kneels next to you and takes your hand, looking at it. She looks up at you with a wry expression. "Your marks. They've turned blue."
You close your eyes and sigh. "My master is really going to kill me this time."