Chapter 241 - Mysterious Figure
The sky over Fuha blossomed with soft lavender and orange tones, reflecting off the scattered marsh waters as the sun hung low over the horizon. The tiny isolated village grew quiet as the villagers retired to their homes for the evening.
In one of the homes along the river bank, a family sat together around the warmth of a small stove, sharing a meal of unleavened bread and stewed catfish. The mother sat next to a small mattress where her daughter lay unconscious. The uncle and son sat nearby, eating their meal in worried silence.
Nilya held the wooden bowl of stew in his lap, his appetite non-existent as he watched his mother spoon small mouthfuls of food into his sister’s mouth.
“See, she drinks it.” His mother whispered. Though she smiled, her lips trembled with her words, “She hasn’t given up.”
“Anya is strong.” His uncle nodded, voice tight.
Nilya nodded, mirroring his uncle’s words, but he felt the emptiness in the adults’ words. In the two days since the guru-chi had arrived, Anya’s condition had worsened significantly. The boils all over her skin had darkened and turned black, looking like there was something inside about to burst out. She hadn’t woken, though she mumbled incoherently at times. The strange words and sounds coming out of his sister’s mouth scared him, and he knew from the looks in the adults’ eyes that they too were deeply unsettled.
“The guru-chi said he would visit Anya tomorrow.” Sammo said.
“Don’t bother him this time.” Katlina softly scolded Nilya, “The guru-chi may be Anya’s only hope.”
“I’ll take Nilya out with me in the morning.” Sammo said, looking at Nilya sternly.
Nilya looked down into his bowl, unable to meet their gazes. He wanted to protest, telling them that the guru-chi wouldn’t save his sister, but they didn’t believe him.
He couldn’t explain the mysterious female voice that had warned him, or why he trusted it. He’d tried praying to the entity, even going so far as to find some candles and reciting the customary prayers for her, that were normally reserved for the God of Life, to no effect.
After the meal Nilya left the main room, stepping through the reed curtains hanging in the doorway to his and Anya’s room. The room was small, with the two beds on opposite walls and a small corridor of space in between. Nilya plopped onto his bed, laying on his side as he looked over at his sister’s bed. The final rays of the sun streamed through the single round window opposite the door.
Through the curtains Nilya could hear his mother and uncle talking quietly to each other in sad, muted voices. He curled into a ball, closing his eyes as he tried not to think about the topic. He turned his attention to the sounds outside his window, focusing on the soft chirps and croaks of wildlife down the river.
The image of the glistening river washed with the golden hues of sunset appeared in his mind. He felt like he was drifting above the ground, floating down the river as it wound through the town. The sky darkened as stars twinkled to life amidst a purple twilight.
As he passed through the town he found himself flying faster and faster. The houses whizzed by him, then he suddenly found himself clear of the buildings and zooming out over the marsh.
The stagnant waters grew dark, reflecting the stars above. The rushes and cattails rustled in a chill breeze. Darkness fell over the land, blanketing everything in shadow.
In the distance he became aware of the flame of a lamp, a single warm patch of light deep in the marsh. A shiver ran down his spine as he realized he was heading straight toward it.
As he approached he made out the form of an old square rug laid upon a patch of ground, and in the center of it sat a figure cloaked in shadow. A few scattered objects were placed on the rug in front of the figure, but one in particular caught Nilya’s eyes. A small porcelain jar filled with a crystal clear liquid.
The figure pointed to the jar with a long slender finger, and Nilya knew that she was gesturing for his benefit. Her left hand extended forward requesting payment, and in the dream he found himself dropping a silver coin into her palm.
Under the shadow of her hood the edge of the figure’s mouth curled up in a satisfied smirk.
Nilya’s awoke with a start. His heart was beating out of his chest as he looked around his room in shock. Nothing was out of place. Even the soft sounds of his mother and uncle still drifted calmly in from the main room.
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Was it a dream?
Sweat beaded on his temples as he recalled the imagery. It didn’t feel like he had been the one flying in the dream, but rather that he was watching a vision that was being shown to him. He vividly remembered the path through the village, taking him out to the swamp. He even knew the area where that mysterious figure was sitting.
She was waiting for him.
The way the items on the mat were set up, it was like she was a peddler. But why would she be set up in the middle of the swamp? Nilya’s mind drifted to the numerous stories and superstitions of the monsters and spirits that inhabited the marshlands.
Wild creatures with gangly appendages and kaleidoscopic eyes, insects that sucked the blood out of people and left their desiccated corpses behind, child eating plants that hid beneath the stagnant marsh waters for their prey.
Medicine men from the south that performed miracles were one that he’d heard often, though until now Nilya had never met one. But guru-chi were real, they were really real.
And they were terrifying.
Nilya shivered involuntarily as he looked out the window at the darkening sky. The image of that small porcelain jar settled in his mind as he intuitively knew that the liquid within that jar contained the cure to his sister’s illness.
The memory of that soft and gentle voice that warned him and protected his sister from the guru-chi bubbled up as well. He hadn’t heard any voices since then.
So many strange things were happening in the village, and Nilya had no clue whether any of them were connected.
At present Nilya sat up on his bed and walked over to the window, resting his hands on the smooth, curved ‘windowsill’ formed from the bent trunks of the trees that made up the walls. He looked out across the river where the sun had already dipped below the horizon.
It didn’t take long for him to make up his mind.
Nilya’s heart was pounding as he ran along the river bank, following the path that his dream had taken him. He was alert, watching out for any adults who might see him and call out to him to go home, but he didn’t even catch a glimpse of anyone else as he ran through the village. This late in the day everyone was already inside their homes, eating dinner and heading to sleep. There was no reason to be out in the swamp. The village roads were dark since none of the villagers lit torches to light the night.
A few copper coins jingled in his pocket, his own personal stash that he’d saved up. It wasn’t even close to the silver coin that he had presented to the mysterious figure in the dream, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. He hadn’t even seen a silver coin before, such riches did not exist in their village.
Within a few minutes he was already on the outskirts of the city, running off the path through the marsh. The light was fading fast as the orange hues in the sky made way for the darker indigos and blues of twilight. The shadows deepened, turning his surroundings into dark blobs on a backdrop of grey.
His moccasin clad feet splashed through puddles as he swatted at clouds of gnats that buzzed noisily around him. Somewhere in the distance he heard the hoot of an owl.
And then, just like in the dream, he saw a pool of orange ahead of him shining through the darkness. A shiver ran through his spine down to his fingers and toes as he came to a halt. Though his heart was burning from his run, he barely dared to breathe.
A heavy atmosphere bore down around him, a mysterious foreboding presence that was filled with a rich vitality.
Nilya steeled his will, swallowing hard. He stepped forward more carefully, approaching the glow.
As he walked around a wall of reeds, the scene from the dream presented itself to him. A lone cloaked figure sat on an old woven rug, their face concealed by a heavy hood. The tall reeds formed the walls of a small clearing, creating an intimate and closed off environment. A hooded lantern sat on the edge of the rug, casting a deep orange light on a number of trinkets that were spread out in front of the figure; chipped cups, a small bundle of twigs and herbs, a basket with a closed lid.
The figure itself sat unmoving in the shadows, only the edges of their cloak lit by the light.
Nilya’s teeth chattered as he realized he was trembling uncontrollably. His legs felt stiff as he forced himself to walk up to the rug. He scanned the assortment of seemingly random items, before resting his eyes on a small, white porcelain jar. The jar was mixed within the items, with no particular significance to its placement, but he felt a bond to it and knew without a doubt that this was what he had come for.
As Nilya approached he nearly jumped out of his shoes as the figure shifted, calmly, wordlessly pointing directly at the jar. The unquestionably female hand was slender, with unblemished skin. Just like in the dream she then opened her right palm to request payment.
“I-“ Nilya’s mouth was dry and he found himself having great difficulty talking, “I only have this much.”
He pulled out the five copper coins from his pocket and hesitatingly dropped them in the extended hand. The coins were oval shaped and green from oxidation, they were the lowest denomination of coin in Fuha. Nilya would have had to have one hundred of these ‘leafs’ to equal the value of a silver coin, “I’m sorry, it’s all I have.”
The figure showed no reaction, her slender fingers closing around the coins as she withdrew them into a pocket within her cloak. Then she picked up a small glass bottle and the porcelain jar and poured a few drops of liquid into the bottle.
The figure tucked the porcelain jar into an inner cloak pocket, then corked the glass bottle. A hazy, shimmering vapour rose from the transparent liquid that barely even was enough to spread across the bottom surface of the bottle.
“Th..thank you.” Nilya received the bottle, not daring to question what he was given for his meagre payment. He cradled the bottle preciously in both hands as he stepped back from the rug.
As soon as he stepped back, the lantern light shut off shrouding the clearing in darkness. The figure disappeared from view from the sudden change in lighting.
Nilya let out a small yelp of fear as he immediately turned around, not checking to see whether the figure had disappeared as he dashed back into the swamp toward his village.
The scene played over and over in his mind, feeling like something out of a fairy tale or dream. Even as he ran he found himself doubting his experience.
Only the bottle of clear, alcohol-like liquid clutched in his hands assured him that he really had encountered the strange, mysterious peddler in the marsh.