Itxaro awoke to talking. It was dark, incredibly so. It had to either be late night or early morning. She could not see anything but she could hear Desdomena speaking from the other side of the room.
“Alvah, can my words still reach you?” the aberration inquired.
Itxaro heard no response.
“You must be truly dreaming now,” she observed. “Sorry, I can not join you just yet. That terrible potion was quite potent, wasn’t it?”
Her voice grew in intensity, on the verge of yelling while still somehow being soft enough for polite conversation. “It is not fair.” There was a momentary silence followed by what might have been a laugh or a hiss. “I would have enjoyed it so much if it had been me that did this to you. They robbed me of such a lovely experience, I could only watch as you endured horrors of your own imagining.”
The aberration truly was inhuman. Itxaro already knew that. She had met a Great One but at least the Great One did not hide its true nature.
“What do you think of your first encounter with humans?” Desdomena asked. “Are you angry with me yet? Do you wish we had stayed in that crypt of ours?” Seemed that the aberration was satisfied with the lack of an answer as she spoke no more and Itxaro could drift back to sleep.
*****
Itxaro prepared breakfast for her mother and grandmother along with a special meal for their guest to minimize his remaining symptoms. His only complaint was that he was still seeing an afterglow. The aberration was nowhere to be seen, likely back inside him.
The elder and lady explained how the titans crossed over the village due to his message. Itxaro was not there for that conversation as she was in the backroom but she heard him at least apologize for what happened. So, it really had been him that told the whole world he was still alive.
"I apologize with not being forthright on that account. With the state the world is in, I could see our fellow survivors casting out or killing those that risk drawing the attention of aberrations," he explained.
"You have been alone in the wilderness, you know how to survive," the elder accepted. "As long as we make it that you would prefer to live rather than endanger us, we can leave you as you are."
Itxaro brought the plates. The air was tense but the general atmosphere was corgel on the surface.
The tension rose as dark multicolored vapors streamed from his right eye. The vapors quickly condensed into the appearance Desdomena seemed to most often take, a simply dressed red haired beauty with pale skin and mismatched eyes of red and blue. There was no subtlety to what she did next, no words, not even an expression.
The aberration took the eating utensils from his hands and took a small piece of everything for herself. Itxaro thought for a moment maybe aberrations like her needed to eat as well but the way Desdomena went on to chew everything so methodically, it was obvious she was inspecting the meal. The blatant suspicion had an hostility to it all its own.
Desdomena turned her head to the man and a small smile crept across her lips. "It is safe," she stated, turning back into vapor and drifting into his left eye.
“Care to explain why there is an aberration dwelling inside you?” her grandmother asked the visitor once the inhuman presence seemed to return inside him.
“I believe a term you might recognize is that she is my familiar,” he answered coolly. “It is more than that but if you know the methods to manifest and bind, then having a familiar would be something you would know as a possibility.”
Itxaro’s mother nodded her head in recognition of the term. Itxaro passed the food to everyone else and joined them.
“Are you Alvah or are you Zibin or are you both? You did mention where you are from, you can gain many names.” The elder continued with the interrogation.
“Zibin was the name I was born with while Alvah was what family and friends called me,” he was passive when he began but a bittersweetness crept into his words. “It took someone I care for seven years to use that name so I was not inclined to share it with strangers.”
“Still that was the name you used when you invited danger to us,” Lady Itxaro assessed.
“I thought I was facing my final moments when I sent that message out. I had no malice, especially against you.” Genuine happiness bled through. “If I knew there were others nearby, I would have come to visit already.” It felt like he was trying to tell a joke. He had passion but the execution fell flat.
“You are our first visitor in decades and most of your few predecessors were already dead,” Itxaro’s mother informed him.
“Pardon me, I know this is a strange question but do you know where this is?” he changed the subject. “I lost my way a long time ago and I would like to find it again.”
“Where are you going?” Itxaro was the first to ask.
He smiled. “Anywhere would do so long as it is forward. I am more accustomed to open flatlands than woodlands and born somewhere warmer. I am hoping once I reach the coast, the beaches whether rocky or filled with sand will hopefully be more to my liking.”
“Our own people are from far east of here and dwelled near the ocean,” the elder recounted. “If memory serves, you will be greeted by rocky shores if you journey that way.”
“That is excellent.”
“But beware,” the elder warned. “We were forced out by a horror from the depths. It is not safe there anymore.”
“It is not safe anywhere. I just came from a small mountain range and been in a city passed by Cuh'rana,” he noted. “How many mountains should I expect to cross?”
“Many. There will be a chain of them blocking your path once you leave the forest beyond to what will be deadlands. The deadlands are vast and once you are past them there will seem to be nothing but mountains ahead of you,” her grandmother described. “I do not know how far west you must go to reach the other side but I would imagine even if the distance is further, it would be less strenuous if you decided to turn back. I would recommend you head north but you seem disinclined to welcome further cold. This forest meets the ocean north of here.”
“A fair assessment,” he acknowledged. “I might consider heading south and see where that leads me. Are we far enough to be at the great northeast peninsula?”
“No, you would have to reach the endless mountains before you have come that far.” The elder clarified.
“That gives me an idea of where I am,” he concluded. “Thank you very much. I think that is enough for me to continue my journey.”
“Are you in such a hurry to leave?” Itxaro wondered aloud. She remembered overhearing Desdomena saying that this was the first time he met a human. Maybe the aberration meant fellow human or "in so long" but this was Itxaro’s own first experience with an outsider. Surely, he had to have some curiosity.
Alvah bowed his head. “Forgive me if I do not feel welcome here.”
“Stay at least long enough to heal,” the elder suggested. “I imagine a month will do wonders but if you keep walking on it, it will only grow worse.”
He tilted his head. “You would have me for that long after all that I caused?”
“There used to be an unwritten law of hospitality,” the elder recalled. “Now that there are so few of us left such measures are all the more necessary.”
He remained quiet. His eyes shifted to the side away from everyone. Now that Itxaro knew about Desdomena, she assumed this was those two having some silent conversation.
“What do you say?” Itxaro’s mother prodded him,
He returned his gaze to reality. “Thank you,” he answered. “I will accept.”
“Good, good,” the elder responded. “Itxaro will show you to your quarters once she has helped me with a few matters.”
The elder beckoned for her granddaughter to follow while Itxaro’s mother kept the man company. The subject seemed to be regarding his journey from the dead city he mentioned to where he was now, something Itxaro wanted to hear for herself.
Once they were in the ingredients room with the door closed safely behind them once more, the elder whispered into Itxaro’s ear. “Keep an eye on him. Make sure he does not sneak away. Consider that your primary duty until the time comes for him to be useful. Of course, you will still be performing any deliveries but we will worry about that later.”
“Yes, Elder Itxaro.”
*****
“Why is this one singled out from the others?” the guest inquired as he inspected the chamber. His familiar, Desdomena, mirrored his actions. She had materialized when Itxaro offered to help him walk and carried him herself. “I doubt you have visitors enough to warrant this being built for such.”
“This is where our mothers give birth so the children can be born far from any maladies the others may carry,” Itxaro answered. Far was relative but it was set apart from the rest.
The aberration looked at her curiously. “Is that so?” she asked while the man placed his hand on the wall and closed his eyes as if structure was speaking to him
“It is,” their host confirmed. “This is where most children are born.”
The guest opened his eyes. “You take pregnant mothers uphill?” he wondered in confusion.
“We wanted it to be distant from everyone but still close to the elder,” she insisted.
“I hope we are not intruding then,” he said courteously. “I will try to disappear when you need it for its true purpose.”
“I hope you mean that figuratively,” she replied, unsure if maybe he had some spell that made him vanish.
“Worried about us?” asked Desdomena.
“We will not leave without telling you first,” he reassured Itxaro, ignoring the aberration’s inquiry. “You have been quite generous. We must repay kindness with gratitude.”
Itxaro returned to the doorway. “Please just rest here. If there is anything you require we will bring it to you.”
“I will keep that in mind,” he replied bidding her goodbye.
As Itxaro stepped out, she headed back home at first but hugged the wall of the birthing chamber until she made it to the back of the structure. She pressed her ear to the wall and listened. What she was expecting, she was unsure herself.
They were quiet at first. That was good. At least he was not moving about on his injured leg the moment she left.
Then Desdomena spoke, her tone muffled. “You should not have given them your original name.”
“It was better than lying and certainly better than telling them the name I was best known by,” the man replied so quietly that Itxaro had to strain to hear. With him as comparison, she could ascertain Desdomena was being energetic.
“Oh yes, you made me hunt for your identity my little prince Girin.”
“I hate that name,” the man’s voice murmured through.
“I hate this situation. You got poisoned for being honest.”
“We should not be angry at someone being suspicious during such times,” he advised.
So, they had secrets but the way they were talking about it made it seem harmless. She made her short way back home.
Her grandmother greeted her. “How is he settling into his new quarters?”
“Zibin, Alvah, whoever he is seems to be willing to forgive us,” Itxaro explained, thinking back to the exchange she eavesdropped on moments before. “The aberration called Desdomena’s grudge has not subsided. They are both suspicious of us… or maybe they are just curious. They had questions regarding the birthing chamber, mainly as to why it was located where it was.”
“What did you tell them?”
“To keep the newborns safe from maladies,” Itxaro recounted.
The elder smiled proudly. “That was close enough to the truth. An excellent answer, dear,” she praised her. “Your mother was right to teach you proper manners. Such niceties are a cornerstone of deception. Let us hope it does not become a habit though. We have not needed to conceal the truth in decades and hopefully we will not need to do so in the future.”
The elder gestured to a pillow on the floor. “Take a rest dear while you can,” she advised.
Itxaro took a seat and a question formed in her mouth, “Wh-“ As she began to speak, so too did the elder so she cut herself short. “I am sorry, pardon me, Elder Itxaro.”
“You are pardoned. I was simply going to inform you that you can not assess a thing like that aberration like you would a human. You can not trust anything that thing says to you and by extension him. Aberrations can not feel anything so they show whatever emotion they wish and change moods at a moment's notice. What were you going to say?”
“I was going to ask where Lady Itxaro went.”
“She went to speak to Zorion.”
“About what?”
“What else? About you. You have quite an important task ahead of you. The message inviting further hardship started a few weeks ago, we had a stillbirth yesterday, and the next child is not due for another three weeks if all progresses properly. Do you know what that means, dear?”
“I do,” Itxaro confirmed. It meant they were bound for further loss if all did not go well.
Itxaro retired to her room and watched the birthing chamber from her window, an opening in the wall itself covered in animal hide. During the approaching mild winter, the opening would be covered with wood but at that time, she could peel the cover back peak through the corner and barely be noticed. The chamber itself had no windows, just the door itself, so she had an advantage over her charge. They would have to come around the building for her to be visible to them.
Nothing transpired. If this was what she had to look forward to until the rightful time, she would gladly return to her normal duties. Finally, noon approached and she prepared a fresh meal.
Her mother had not returned. As Itxaro prepared to leave, she turned her head to her grandmother, who remained seated in the visiting room. “Is there anything in particular you want me to discover?” she called out.
“Learn of the nature of his art and tell me every detail you uncover,” her grandmother specified.
Itxaro simply nodded, unsure how she was to do that beyond simply asking.
“If he is wandering around with an aberration at his side, he likely found another way to placate such beings,” the elder deduced. “The fact he came to us using the same path the titans treaded upon might mean he knows at least how to avoid drawing the attention of the Great Ones. If he does, I want to know what methods he had been employing.”
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
The elder rose and walked over to open the door for her and whispered a final piece of advise. “No need to rush. Make any inquiries you have sound natural. If there are no openings for conversation or you are unwelcome, simply leave.”
Itxaro put on her best face, grinning as she approached the birthing chamber. She reached the door and took a deep breath. “I am coming in!” she declared.
No response came from within to deny her entry. She waited for a moment to make sure there was no opposition and then pushed the door open.
She stepped in to see him sitting with one leg crossed while his right leg was held straight in its brace. She approached him. “I brought your lunch, sir.”
His face turned to one of concern as he began, “Thank you but do not get-“
Any closer. Itxaro finished his warning in her mind. An arm reached out through his eye and grabbed one of her wrists. The cold grip did not hurt but it was adamant like a manacle.
In defiance of all natural laws, Desdomena emerged. Her body narrowed from her torso to her waist where she was linked to the man.
“Now, now. That meal wouldn’t happen to be poisoned now would it?” Desdomena hissed as the aberration’s face came within inches of Itxaro’s.
The man quickly grabbed a morsel from the plate and threw it into his mouth before the aberration could say anymore.
“Careful!” the inhuman exclaimed, letting go to retract her body back to him.
“It is too late to be careful now,” he reasoned. “I already swallowed. If there is something wrong with it, I am already a victim.” He held out his hands open palmed.
Itxaro passed the plate to him, bowing her head to Desdomena. “Is there anything I can get you as well?”
“I do not need to eat,” Desdomena informed her.
Itxaro looked to the food. “Let me get you some water,” she stated. At least with water they could tell almost immediately whether it was clean or not. She left momentarily and returned to find the aberration was once again unseen.
She placed the water on the ground and nudged it towards him. The man accepted the water and drank it without interruption. “Where should I take this plate when I am finished?”
“I do not want you moving. I can either stay here until you are finished or collect it when I return with your dinner.”
He frowned. “We have been rude to you. I do not want you to suffer our misbehaviors any further, so please collect it later,” he chose.
Itxaro agreed and turned to leave. “Desdomena did not hurt you did she?” he inquired.
She sifted through her recent experiences. The sudden grab scared her but did not cause any pain. In the fight, the only one the aberration touched was her grandmother. There was no doubt the elder was about to die. The strike that knocked the old woman down, upon inspection, hurt her back, an unkind injury to the aged, but otherwise ended as best one could hope from such an attack. The man had calmed the aberration before she would exact her vengeance on Itxaro.
“She has caused me no harm.”
“Still, I apologize for her behavior,” he said. “She normally prefers to at least pretend to be someone pleasant to have nearby.”
The memory from the day before of Desdomena leaping between Itxaro and the man to save him from being harmed came to mind. “I am sure she means well,” Itxaro accepted.
He smiled an awkward smile. “You think so?”
*****
The day progressed as it had earlier, Itxaro taking time away from the watch only to apply a compress on her grandmother’s back and prepare a new meal. Her mother had not returned as well. While Itxaro was busy with her own duty, Lady Itxaro managed the affairs of the village.
This time she brought medicine to apply directly to his leg. He had been receiving oral medications that Desdomena could ingest but more needed to be done.
She did as before, announcing her arrival and entering after being answered by silence. This time she sat after being greeted by the man and laid the plate in front of herself.
A keen sound rang in her ears now that she had relaxed. She directed her gaze towards the source of the sound and noticed the fresh cedar cone in the corner of the room. She cleaned the place herself, she knew it had not been there. He did not have it with him yesterday or even that morning as it was still alive and she would have heard its call for fresh soil when she awakened.
“Do not tell me you went back into the woods. Your leg will never heal if you do something like that.”
“I got it for him.” Itxaro flinched as Desdomena's voice filled the chamber. Itxaro blinked and there was the aberration sitting in the corner, juggling the cone with one hand.
Desdomena looked at Itxaro as the aberration caught the object in her hand and cracked a grin. Itxaro was distracted but even through her own thoughts, she could hear the plant’s distress as it failed to process what it was that was holding it. "You were so brave yesterday when faced with a lioness but my real voice is enough to scare you." Through her teeth came a short "Khe-khe" sound followed by a hissing "Shi-shi-shi" in what Itxaro hoped was a laugh.
Itxaro wanted to ask how Desdomena slipped by unnoticed and why but that would only make matters worse. She needed to find a way to track the aberration later.
Instead she focused on the matter at hand. She brought out her own eating utensils and scooped some food into her mouth. She swallowed as the guest’s words reached her
“What are you doing?” the man asked mildly, trying and succeeding to sound polite while still being offput by her wordless display.
“I do not want you two worrying about manners with me,” Itxaro answered, putting away her wooden fork and knife. “Desdomena is worried for your safety but you do not want to offend us, so here. Now, you two have no reason to argue.”
“We were arguing?” It took him a moment to process what she said. His laugh was deep but short lived, more a gargle of “Gur ra ra ah.” She would have thought it was a growl but the way he threw his head back meant either he was trying to laugh or he had gone mad to howl. “I suppose that might have been what it looked like and maybe even what it was.”
“I think you might have startled the poor girl with that laugh of yours, Alvah,” Desdomena remarked, possibly ignorant of her own strange form of laughter if that was what it was. Either way, Itxaro did not think the aberration was in the right position to judge.
Itxaro touched her own face. Was her reaction that bad?
“You sound great when I’m in there with you because I have experience but you are still forcing it a bit too much,” the aberration observed with a sickeningly sweet smile.
It was possible for someone to spend so long as to forget how to laugh? That was something even babies knew how to do.
Itxaro slid the plate over to the man, keeping her eyes forward to avoid meeting Desdomena’s gaze. The aberration did nothing to stop her or him when he took it with gratitude. Then Itxaro brought forward the medicine.
Itxaro pulled back her sleeve. “To prove it is safe, allow me to test it on me,” she proclaimed, rubbing the ointment on her forearm before either could say or do anything to oppose. “You want to avoid applying it directly to the wounds. Rub it into the flesh around them, that should help them close safely.”
The man said nothing as he watched her neutrally, paying attention to her instruction. The aberration in the corner let out a simply intrigued “Oh ho?” before her grin peeled further open to bare all her teeth in an intimidatingly friendly expression.
“I see,” the man acknowledged with a smile and nod. “Thank you very much.”
Itxaro passed the medicine similarly to how she did the food and collected the plate from the previous meal that the guest left at the side of the entryway. “Anything else I can do?” she asked.
“Please, stay here for a while,” Desdomena requested, placing her hands behind her head and leaning back. She closed her eyes as if ready to sleep. “We don’t know if there might be later side effects you failed to mention so we need to keep an eye on you and wait to see.”
There was no accusation to the words. Truly, there seemed to be no menace to it. It felt like an invitation.
“If you do not mind,” the man added.
Itxaro looked to the aberration in disbelief and back to the guest and beamed with excitement. “Of course.”
This was exactly what she needed to complete what her grandmother asked of her. “How are you finding this place? Is it to your liking?” she asked, opening with something conversational.
“If you speak of the accommodations you and your family have made, I have no complaints, only praise. If you speak of your village, I have not seen enough of it yet to judge. Where I was from, we built by the rivers whether there were forests or not. I am not used to seeing sunlight filter through branches rather than flow freely through the open or be blocked by our structures.”
“You said you were from the southwest, what is it like over there?”
He let out a short singular sound that more resembled a laugh than what came before. “I can not speak for the entirety of the southwest in good conscience as that would be me trying to describe one quarter of the world. I could do it but I remember best my own home.”
“Have you ever left your home?” Desdomena inquired. “Trust me. If you let a man that had been away from his home for a lifetime speak of it, he will be quick to do so but will be less inclined to stop. This is your only chance to avoid a lecture on such a subject.”
“I want to hear about it,” Itxaro persisted.
“I warned you,” Desdomena sighed. She got up and rested her head on the man’s lap. “Well, it is about time I heard it from his mouth myself.”
“Oh, I forgot I never told you about my home, Desdomena, not this way.”
“Because you were being so secretive. Now, I know everything.”
He smiled as he cradled her head in his hand. “Indeed,” he acknowledged before bringing his attention back to Itxaro. “Early civilizations learned to trust mud rather than wood for hearth and home as even your village does in spite of being surrounded by such a bounty of trees. The city I was born in was old indeed, proud of the mortarless brick architecture it was founded upon crowned with mighty steps and ziggurats. Upon the balconies of the temples and great houses thrived gardens. Girding the city was a belt of farmlands to sustain it along with an orderly network of canals and streets. Even though we were far inland, we had a harbor rich with ships from near and far. We were not even upon the river itself, they had found resources and brought the water to themselves with the canal.”
After that, he went into far greater detail. He failed to bore her but the rich supply of information overwhelmed her so she focused on what she found important, their magical traditions which unfortunately he barely touched on. He focused on the people themselves, mentioning even gods only in passing.
When he was finished, much time had passed. What she gained most for her time was the certainty that at least regarding where he was from, he was not lying. His affection and longing were all too real, they were infectious. She wanted to see such sights for herself to see if they were as grand as she imagined them to be. Alas, his home was gone as were her own people’s.
“I’m slightly angry now,” Desdomena said teasingly with none of the irritation such a statement should have. She adjusted herself so her back was against his chest. “I am the one that unsealed your lips and it is strangers that reap the rewards.”
He hugged her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Thank you for making such a thing possible, Desdomena.”
Those two were in their own little world. It was Itxaro that was the outsider looking in. For a moment, she forgot one of them was not even human.
It was obvious Itxaro had no place there. She stood and prepared to see herself out.
“I will see you tomorrow, sir,” she promised, preparing to open the door.
“You do not need to call me sir,” he informed her. “You can call me Zibin or Alvah.”
“Which would you prefer?” she asked as she paused
“I have not been called Zibin in so long, it seems alien to me. You can call me Alvah.” Desdomena blinked for a moment at his statement but said nothing about it.
“See you tomorrow, girl,” Desdomena bidded farewell with an unreadable expression.
As Itxaro stepped out to be greeted by the dark night. A figure approached from the base of the hill.
“It appears they have assigned you yet another task,” the man called out, one of the only two in the village. What made him different from the other was how he shared a resemblance to Itxaro, his grey eyes the same as hers.
Zorion took his time to visit with Itxaro the rare moments when both were free from their tasks. He was a man still in his prime with handsome features and the slender traits of a hunter with the firm arms and back that came from stringing a bow. His hair was a solid black like midnight. It was him who taught her how to use such a weapon.
They met at the entrance of Itxaro’s home. “I have to look after our visitor,” Itxaro finally told him now that they did not need to shout to each other to communicate.
Zorion nodded. “Your mother told me. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“The usual fresh game is sufficient but if you get some goat milk for his bones, that would help a lot.”
“Ah, so you actually intend to mend him?” he inquired with interest.
“I should do what I can while I can.”
“In case Lady Itxaro has not told you,” Zorion began to inform her. “I will be keeping watch at night. It would be best for you not to consort with a stranger at such hours.” He said as a simple suggestion but it was a warning, the concern evident.
“Thank you, Zorion.”
“No need to thank me," he replied gently. "That is what I am here for.”
There was little to report. She learned much but not what she needed to. However, she accomplished more than she expected.