In the morning, Tif discovered that her companion was already gone. She didn’t give it much thought as she devoured a handful of small boiled eggs and a few slices of bread that were smeared in something as dark as the armor spidra wore. The spread was bitter at first, but by her second piece Tif found that she was liking the smoky undertones.
Soon after she finished her promised meal, the questions began, and Tif did give a great deal of thought to those. She sat in the middle of the tent, near one of the incense lanterns, which had an entirely new scent today--light and bit minty--facing the same mender as the night before. Tif hadn’t taken the time to really look at the spidra previously, but sitting as they were now, only an arm length separating them, it was impossible not to. She was older, maybe a few years younger than Tif’s ma, though Tif had no idea if spidra aged like humans did. The spidra’s long hair was tied at the back, leaving her sharp widow's peak exposed, as well as her extra set of eyes at her temples.
The questions started simply enough, with things like her name and then her parents. Tif gave each with only a slight hesitation to hopefully further the idea that her head wasn’t quite right. If the spidra found the shortness of the names odd, she didn’t make any obvious reaction about them--at least not obvious to Tif. However, Tif was discovering that reading spidra was just as challenging as the lizard-like aquaros but for entirely different reasons. With aquaros, the trouble was that their scales didn’t move like skin did, so there was no frowning, wrinkling of the nose, or even a smile to watch for. On the other hand, spidra seem to have flesh just as prone to bunching or wrinkling as humans, but the four eyes presented multiple problems. Not only was Tif unsure which to focus on but the side set was able to look at separate things than the front set, which made Tif more aware of her own body, how she was sitting and where her hands were, instead of on the spidra, which was the complete opposite of where her focus should have been.
The questions then ventured into a realm of things unknown to Tif, such as, “Which hold were you born to?” and, “When did you join the great campaign?” Tif considered trying for general answers, like, “A northern one,” or, “When I was ready.” However, she didn’t think they’d be more convincing than no response at all and might lead the spidra to expect answers to other things. So, after pretending to ponder each, she gave a defeated sigh and shrugged.
The questions became more specific after that, about what she did to receive her ris, which unit she had been assigned to, what happened to them, where her weapons and armor had gone, and so on. To Tif’s growing discomfort, the spidra began asking each faster than the next, so that by the last few, the spidra was talking again as soon as Tif started to shrug or say she didn’t remember. Tif wasn’t sure why the mender had changed tactics, but at one point she thought she saw the spidra move a lower hand in her direction. She didn’t notice it in time to see if the motion was like a Marking, and she didn’t feel the tell-tale numbing. It made Tif uncomfortable all the same though, because what if some people were good at disguising the Mark or what if mender spidra were trained to sense old wounds instead of old ris?
Tif glanced nervously at Pep. Why hadn’t they thought to have her hit her head at some point?
The questions finally turned in a direction Tif had expected from her chat the night before: her bond-mate. However, even though Tif now knew what that term meant, she didn’t have any more answers to provide about it than anything else. In addition, unlike Tif’s past non-answers, the spidra’s face hardened as she failed to say where they had met, her age, or what had been the bond-gift. When Tif couldn’t even say the name of her bond-mate, the mender abruptly stood, heading toward the entry flap of the tent, her back so straight Tif would have bet a fistful of flats that she was affronted.
The spidra was out of the tent in moments, flap closing behind her, but then stopped just on the other side of exit. Tif could tell because the sun happened to be in the right place to create a shadowy outline of the spidra’s body against the tent fabric, Aspect be praised. One of the shadow’s four arms raised, motioning to someone else.
“Probably just a scribe to take notes,” Tif said in a whisper to Pep. “Or maybe a second mender for another opi--”
Tif’s words dried up as a hulking form appeared beside the mender.
“Maybe…maybe some of them are really big?” Though Tif had said it, she didn’t believe it anymore than Pep did.
The two figures stood there for a time in what Tif assumed was conversation, though she couldn’t hear a lick of it. She tried leaning to the very edge of the circular pillow she sat on, and when that didn’t work she began slowly crawling on hands and knees along the rug covered ground, hoping that each new inch would bring something to her ears. Tif thought she was just beginning to hear a ghost of what they were saying when a large head pushed past the tent flaps.
It belonged to a human, long hair on the sides of his head and none on top, every inch of the skin Tif could see covered in spidery Death ris. His eyes found her with unerring speed. “Can you hunt?” he grunted.
It had happened so suddenly, Tif was still on her hands and knees, looking up at him from the floor. “Definitely,” she said, trying to put all her conviction and then some into her answer, hoping that would make him take her seriously.
He ducked his head back out, apparently not interested in asking anything else, and Tif scrambled back to her floor cushion, sitting there as peacefully as she could. It was difficult after seeing him though, since a man like that, with all his ris, seemed like who you’d use to get rid of someone you didn’t want around anymore…Tif shifted, putting her feet beneath her. If either of them came at her, she would race to the closest tent wall and crawl underneath it.
When the mender reentered the tent, it was clear from her pinched expression that she was far from pleased. She didn’t even retake her seat, but instead scooped the cushion from the ground and then spoke to Tif while remaining standing.
“You will be joining Oliak’Sha’s training unit. They are in need of seekers. Do you consent?”
Tif had no idea what other options she had with these people, if any, so she popped up, nodding. She was nearly to the exit--not wanting to linger where she wasn’t wanted--when she heard the spidra speak again.
“And Tif’Sha.” Tif turned back to the mender, seeing eyes she swore had been friendly the night before hard and steady as stone now. “I expect those questions answered as soon as your memory returns.”
Tif made some sort of noise to indicate that she understood and then got outside the tent quick as she could. The moment she was, she took a deep breath of the woodland air, feeling like she could fully breath in what had been much too long.
“Never liked the sick tent much myself,” a voice rumbled above her. Tif looked up to find the ris covered man who had spoken to her standing barely an arm’s length away. His size was nothing compared to a cyclops like Torgath, but for a human he was wide and much taller than Tif. He had leather armor strapped across his large body and single sword hilt that seemed much too long, extending a good two feet into the air above his bulky shoulder. “Come on.”
He turned, letting Tif see that the body of the weapon he carried was just as ridiculously large as its handle, the tip of the blade reaching down to his ankles. What’s more, it didn’t have a sheath like other swords she had seen spidra use. Instead, the bare blade, including the point, was exposed, with two wide straps holding the whole thing in place: one just under the hilt and another near his waist. The oversized weapon didn’t seem to impede Oliak as he set off down one of the camp's well-worn paths, but following, Tif worried each time one of his booted feet came close to the bare point of the weapon.
When the massive sword eventually lost its fascination for her, Tif didn’t turn to the camp or its surroundings like she had when she first arrived. Instead, she mulled over the many questions that the mender had asked her. Could she create convincing lies to all of them once she knew more about the people of Death and their ways? She doubted it, and a quick look at Pep confirmed it--there were just too many opportunities for mistakes. If so, that meant Tif had to escape before the answers came due. How long would the mender give her though? A few weeks or not even one? Tif had no idea but knew it was better to expect less and be grateful for more if it came, which meant she had to learn what she needed and then slip away in a handful of days. And if the mender came calling sooner than that, hopefully Tif would know enough about Death to provide a few answers, which might satisfy the spidra temporarily.
Tif gave Pep another look, glad beyond words that she didn’t have to do this alone.
The path they were on angled noticeably down, which was enough to get Tif’s attention. She saw that they were heading to a side portion of the camp, actually outside the staked perimeter, which she hadn’t even noticed passing. The ground was still cleared of trees here, with some stumps but no buildings, and a few people standing clumped together.
As they neared the group, the earth leveled out again, and Tif got a better look at the other “seekers,” the mender had called them, she was joining. There were four of them, two boys and two girls, all human and all looked a few years older than Tif. They had been talking amongst themselves but quieted as Oliak and she reached them.
The big man stopped in front of the four and said, much louder than Tif thought he needed to, “Welcome Tif’Sha to the fold.”
It sounded like a command, and the group seemed to take it as such, all saying ‘Welcome’ and even inclining their heads to her slightly, which, as soon as Tif saw, she returned to each of them in turn and even to Oliak for good measure. As she was bobbing her head, Tif was also tucking info about the greeting away--this was exactly the type of knowledge she needed.
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Oliak gave her a slightly odd look but then said, “Let’s see if your body remembers more than I hear your mind does.” Then, to all of them, he said, “Mark.”
Tif saw the other four do a familiar gesture, and she quickly copied it, sliding her thumb across her forehead and then toward Oliak, just as the others had. It felt good to know that the way she had learned to Mark was standard, and it was an added thrill when she saw strands of wispy gray Death ris snap from each of them to the big man. This was the first time since gaining the ris she had gotten to see anyone besides herself using the power.
“Follow,” Oliak commanded next. He started to circle the group, and Tif saw the other four raise their arms to point at him, their feet only moving enough to turn in the position they already stood. She did the same but then had an awkward moment as Oliak returned her stare with clear disappointment. Tif looked at the others again and realized that they all had their eyes closed. She squeaked nearly as high as Plumya did and shut hers, using just the sensation of Oliak in her mind to point her finger toward where he was. She worried that he’d stop the exercise and call for her to leave, but he didn’t, continuing to circle the group, sometimes faster, sometimes staying put for so long Tif began to question herself. For all his size, his steps were deadly quiet on the grassy clearing, and she only had the Mark to guide her.
Finally, when Oliak had circled them twice and was now in position behind them, he said, “Glaru, predict.”
With the barest hesitation, one of the boys said in a clear voice, “Left.”
Oliak gave no indication if he was correct or not, moving onto someone called Eyinder. Tif didn’t hear what Oliak asked of them though because she was desperately trying to figure out what the big man wanted them to do and whether or not her eyes needed to be closed for this part, too.
“Tif,” he called much too soon, “predict.”
She stood there, body rigid, feeling him unmoving in her mind, at a complete loss. She could guess, of course, and say a direction, but that seemed no better a choice than when she had been with the mender. Tif shook her arms out, trying to relax and that’s when it hit her: her muscles, his muscles. She dipped deeper into the sensation of him in her mind, beginning to distinguish parts of his body from the whole.
“Tif,” he grunted.
“Almost!” she called. He was titled forward Tif could tell, putting pressure on his legs and the balls of his feet. “Forward!”
Like before, he moved onto the next person without saying if she had spoken correctly or not, but even so Tif let out a small sigh of relief. She also risked a quick wink of victory at Pep, and was rewarded with the knowledge that the other trainees weren’t keeping their eyes closed any longer--apparently that restriction had only been for the first test. Though pleased with the discovery, Tif berated herself some for not recognizing what Oliak wanted from her sooner. She had been using prediction against Plumya just yesterday after all.
The last person, a girl named Mervel gave Oliak her answer, and the leader of the seekers didn’t even pause. “Tredu, forward.” One of the boys, crossed hook swords on his back, stepped to the front of the group, and Oliak circled around to join him. The human Death boy was hardly small, but he looked that way next to the large trainer.
“Mark him.”
Tif released the sensation of Oliak in her mind, her ris connection to him evaporating in the air, and had just finished marking Tredu, a new line snapping up between them, when Oliak pinned her with his sharp gaze.
“Did I say to drop your previous Mark?”
“Um,” Tif said, seeing then that each of the people beside her now had two smokey gray lines coming from them. She hadn’t even known she could do that, and as fast as she could, she moved to catch up. While keeping the sensation of Tredu in her mind, Tif remarked Oliak. A second sensation appeared, pushing at the first, immediately causing Tif to feel strained. She nearly brought Pep up to massage her head, but none of the others were doing that, so she forced herself to keep her hands at her sides.
Oliak let them stay that way for a bit, as if he knew exactly the pressure the double Mark was putting on them. When Tif thought she couldn’t take it anymore, Pep pointed out that at least Oliak wasn’t making them do anything with the Marks, and she couldn’t argue that. Instead, she focused on her breathing and what was in front of her. Oliak was watching them each in turn, and the boy, Tredu, in Tif’s estimation looked much too happy to not have to be doing what they were. She never thought she would have preferred being Marked by Death thrice over, but it was starting to feel like her head was going to split open and she would have taken just about any sensation over that right now.
“How much ris does he have left?” Oliak finally asked, which promptly dropped Tif’s mouth open.
He wanted her to do what?
The large trainer stepped to each of them in turn, putting an ear up to their mouths to hear their whispered reply. This time he saved Tif for last, but it made little difference. She was barely managing to keep her two Marks up, each wavering as if they might break at any moment, when he reached her.
“I don’t know,” she hissed through gritted teeth when he lowered his head to hear her answer.
He straightened, the look of disappointment back on his face. “If you can’t do that much, there’s no point in keeping you here on the fringes. You’ll go back to Asta Hold, and it’ll be up to them to decide if you can be put back together or not.”
“O-okay,” Tif said, barely able to think. “I’ll be better tomorrow.” She would somehow, she’d find a way. In fact, she’d be better the moment she dropped the two Marks. But after her last failing, she didn’t want to give Oliak a second reason to dismiss her and so held them another impossible moment and another.
The large man considered her and then nodded. “See that you are. Take the rest of the day, you’re clearly about to collapse. Anyone can tell you where the seeker’s tent is. And be here at sunrise tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Tif somehow managed to say. Her head felt like a spike was being driven into the center of it, and her vision had gotten so blurry she wasn’t even sure if her Marks were still up.
“Release,” he said.
Tif nearly fell to the ground when she stopped holding the double sensation in her mind, the sudden lack of pressure was so great. Somehow she remained standing though, her head hanging loose, eyes almost unfocused, her ears hearing Oliak’s next words, probably because of how he shouted them.
“The rest of you, take an hour. Then meet at the machan.”
Tif tried to add machan to her list, but her mind, still pained as it was, thoroughly rejected the idea.
“Excuse me,” a new voice said. Tif expected it to be one of the girls she was training with, but a squinted look to the side revealed Dalia. The spidra had exchanged her sick tent attire for full black plate, including a helmet, as her kind wore. Her face still had a delicateness to it though. “May I borrow, Tif’Sha?”
Tif caught Oliak giving a sharp bow at the waist to the spidra. “Of course, my Shu.”
Dalia nodded back but not as deeply and then walked slowly to the side, giving Tif a chance to follow. She did, one shaky step after the next while she rubbed her temples with vigor.
“Uh, hi,” Tif said, when she reached the place Diana had stopped.
“Are you alright?” the spidra asked.
“Yeah, just went in a bit too far my first time back. I’ll be fine before you know it.” Surprisingly, Tif found that her headache wasn’t lingering like a regular one would, and though there was still a dull throbbing, at the rate it was improving, it really would be gone soon.
“That’s good,” Dalia said, sounding like she meant it. After that, she looked rather uncertain to Tif, but the spidra seemed to push past whatever was holding her back, her face under her helm becoming determined. “I wanted to apologize to you, for telling you what I did. With the curtains and my tears, I didn’t realize you were human,” she hesitated. “You also named yourself Shu,” there was a hint of recrimination in her voice.
That slotted something into place Tif had heard a few times and had been wondering about: spidra were Shu and humans were Sha. Be that as it may, she wasn’t about to lose two conversations to a spidra today.
“I did that after you told me,” she pointed out.
“True, but…” Dalia shook her head, her snug helmet moving with her. “It doesn’t matter. As a bondee, you shouldn’t have had to hear such…things. Your burden is already great enough.” Dalia drew herself up a bit, and in her armor, multiple sword hilts sprouting from her back, Tif thought she would have found the spidra quite imposing if she didn’t know her. “I would ask in the Aspect’s name that you forget what I said. I should never have spoken my feelings aloud in the first place.”
Now this was something Tif could answer without hesitation. “Nope. Sorry.”
“You…what?” Dalia said, all her eyes going wide. Apparently this wasn’t a usual response to such a request. That made Tif a touch worried, she really didn’t want to stand out. However, she also knew that it was through genuine connections that the best information was shared, and so far, Dalia was the one she was closest to. Plus, what the spidra was talking about doing was just wrong.
“I can’t forget if that means you forget, too. I’m glad you told me how you felt. You needed to feel it and talk about it so you could get the hurt out of your body.”
Dalia frowned at her. “The teachings of your sect sound very different than mine.”
Sticking with her plan to say as little as possible when in doubt, Tif just shrugged. “Experience can also be a teacher.”
“I…see. Perhaps…perhaps you would share your experiences with me again sometime?”
Tif smiled, barely feeling any head pain at all anymore. “I’d like that.”
Dalia nodded, seeming a bit happy herself, but then that look of doubt returned. The spidra used her lower left hand to pull something from her belt, pushing it quickly at Tif.
Tif accepted the object reflexively, which was some sort of small weapon, the cool metal of the hilt contrasting with the rough leather of the sheath. When Tif looked at Dalia quizzically about it, all the spidra said was, “You seem to not have any. Weapons that is.” Then she moved away with the soft sound of metal sliding on well oiled hinges.
Tif dropped her eyes to what she held and pulled it partway from its narrow sheath. The silver blade was thin as her pinky and half again as long as most knives she had seen.
Tif heard a whistle beside her and turned to find Mervel there. “What did you say to get a gift like that?” Tif thought the other girl sounded jealous, but that wasn’t what held her attention.
“A gift?” Tif said, feeling like she had heard that word used earlier today.
Tredu joined them, an unfriendly smirk on his face. “I heard you hurt your head,” the boy said. He leaned on Mervel in a familiar way, but they didn’t appear to be a couple so much as two vultures circling. “Are you sure you had anything in there to start?”
Tif was clearly missing something, but she didn’t want to ask anymore questions. Maybe if she just waited long enough...
Mervel gave a put upon sigh and then said exactly what Tif didn’t expect. “She’s courting you.”