The man was quite a talkative man, and we learnt much about his clan as he brought us through the town. He began with an introduction, of course, introducing himself as ‘Tampter Brook, Clan Elder of the Watchmen.’ The last bit, he explained, meant that he occupied a seat at the Elder Council and was in charge of the watchmen. He was a distant cousin of Maya’s mother, who, as he’d already mentioned before, was the Cheiftess of the clan.
We took the most direct path, according to Tampter, to our destination, the ‘Fiercewater Hall,’ where Maya’s mother was most likely to be. However, that meant walking through the bustling and crowded main streets, where Maya was sure to be recognized. And since Tampter wanted to keep Maya’s return a secret until she could meet her mother, he put a mask over the little girl’s face, one that he’d pulled out of the little fanny pack-style pouch he kept to his side.
“I’d rather her mother hear of Maya’s return from me,” Tampter explained, “where she can see Maya right away, then from some street rumor she won’t be able to confirm before I get there. And trust me, it may not take long to get to the Hall, but news of her return will travel far faster than we ever could.”
“Would it be so bad if she heard of her coming back before we got there?” I asked.
Tampter nodded seriously. “Her mother took Maya’s supposed death quite hard, as I’m sure you can imagine. She’s more or less returned to a functional state now – but it’s more from necessity than actual healing, so her moods can still be somewhat erratic. To be honest, even I’m not sure exactly what her response would be if she heard the news, but given the combination of her temper and her strength, I imagine at least some kind of property destruction is all but guaranteed. And right now...” he sighed wistfully. “Right now, she can’t afford to be anything less than perfect.”
He looked at us then, a small smile on his face, “Such is the callous nature of politics,” he said. “Even in grief, she must be perfect, lest the vultures of the council twist her mistakes and have her removed from her seat.” He shook his head then, pulling himself out of his musings. “Ah! What am I saying? My apologies, young’uns; I didn’t mean to bore you with the politics of my clan.”
“Oh no, not at all,” I responded, shaking my head. “That sounds horrible for her mother. I’d hate to be in her position.”
Tampter smiled wryly. “I’m sure she does, too.”
“Then why doesn’t she just give up her seat?” Ren asked. “That’s what I’d do, especially if I had to deal with an annoying council that was always watching everything I did.”
Tampter shook his head. “I used to be of the same opinion. Her mother has full rights to the seat, of course – and she’s been an amazing leader thus far – but I didn’t think that was reason enough to bear the headache. Especially when one has a daughter with whom one could spend time instead. But I’ve come to realize what a great blessing it is, that she hasn’t ceded her position to one of them. They are vultures, the lot of them.” He spat that last sentence, a clear revulsion in his eyes. “The public doesn’t know it yet, and that’s the only reason they haven’t been kicked out of the council yet. But mark my words, those bast-” he stopped suddenly, finally remembering the little girl that also happened to be part of his audience.
“I-I mean, those idiots would sell out the entire clan just to line their own pockets,” he said again, the wording different but the emotion behind them just as potent. “They don’t give a damn about their heritage and tradition. They’ve fallen in love with the glamor of the city life, with its mansions and maids and all. And they’d sell out every damn clansman if it could buy them a ticket into that circle. And they try to use every single misfortune that comes our way as an excuse to do it.”
“Well, what’s happened now that they want to use against Maya’s mother?” I asked. “Maya said that there were some problems with your guys’ Life-Elixir Pool. Is that related to anything?”
Tampter seemed surprised at my question. “Oh, you know of the Life-Elixir Pool?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “We happened upon it randomly while we were making our way to the city. It’s actually what led us here.”
“Oh? That’s interesting. Well, you’re right about that. It is, in fact, the source of much headache right now. But, unfortunately, that is a matter I cannot tell much of without Maya’s mother present. Though, I am most certain she will be more than happy to let you know about it. Judging by the pressure the both of you give off, I’m sure you two are at least at Level 10, no?”
Ren and I turned to look at each other with a smile, before nodding slowly at the man. In truth, at the moment, we were both tied at Level 18. And while the number wasn’t very high, I had enough experience with the scaling of the system to know there was quite a large difference between 10 and 18. If I had to guess, I’d probably hit the requirements for Level 10 after the Revive I did when that rock had bashed my head in. And I’d improved by leaps and bounds since then.
Tampter noticed our interaction and nodded to himself. “That’s good, then.” He didn’t expand beyond that cryptic message, instead deciding to not-so-subtly change the subject by suddenly adopting the part of a tour guide.
“Oh, you see that there,” he started suddenly, pointing at a two-story restaurant-style building. It was of wood and thatch design, with an open patio and only a drawn drape acting as a doorway. ‘Boldheart’s Goldberry Restaurant’ was written in bold, gold paint above the entrance. Underneath, in slightly smaller lettering, was written, ‘Home to the famous Boldheart Goldberry Wine.’
“That right there is home to the best damn Goldberry Wine this side of the country," Tampter said. "Ol Boldheart exports his product to nigh every city that’s possible to reach by trade. They say, back in his prime, he was even the official Winemaker for the imperial family. The old king would drink from no one’s hand but his, they say.”
“Official Winemaker?” Ren asked. “What kind of a job is that?”
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Tampter smiled. “Sounds made-up, I know. So far as I know, there is no one who currently holds such a position in the palace now. But all the oldest of our clan swear up and down that he really was. Say the old king made a position just for him. And honestly? I believe it. You’re skeptical now, but one sip of his drink and you’ll be convinced.”
“Ooh, we should totally go to Uncle Boldy’s place,” Maya cut in. “I’m not allowed to have any of his wine, but he makes the best Goldberry pies. You guys will love them.”
I smiled at her enthusiasm. “That sounds like a great idea, Maya. Maybe we can go after we meet your mother, if we have nothing else to do.”
Tampter nodded his head in agreement, and just then, the large street we were on opened into a wide, circular clearing. Shops and stores ringed the edges of the clearing, and standing proudly in the middle was the statue of a scholarly-looking man.
People crowded the clearing, talking and laughing loudly while children ran among legs. Hawkers carted their wares about, their shrill cries mingling in the air with the rest to create a symphony of lively noise.
“That’s our founder,” Tampter said, pointing at the statue. It was a proud monument, and the people’s reverence for the man could be clearly felt in the sedulous construction of the piece, and the multitude of fresh flowers that lay at his feet. That being said, however, the depiction of the man himself was far from arrogant, hardly even confident. He was a soft-looking man with a round face bespeckled with the large circular glasses that often adorned those of academic professions. He had a full figure, the fullness of one who’d eaten one too many meals, not one who’d fought one too many fights. He was dressed in much the same way as the rest of the clansmen, but the sculptor had taken the time to meticulously carve in beadwork all over his outfit, in designs oddly similar to what Maya wore.
He cradled in his hands an open book, though his gaze was trained on the far horizon.
“He doesn’t look like a warrior,” I remarked curiously, my mouth speaking before my brain could realize that the remark could easily be taken as an insult.
But, fortunately, Tampter was not insulted in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to be quite proud of the fact. “Indeed,” he said with a wide smile, “our founder was not a warrior. He was a scholar, an academic, a healer. The world is not kind to those without strength – he knew so better than most – but still he chose the path of a pacifist, because he didn’t want to conform to the brutality of the jungle’s rule. He understood what the world was like, but he decided he’d rather change the rules of the game, or die trying, than work his way to the top by stepping on the bones of others.” Tampter spoke with an awe and reverence for the founder’s choice, and his words struck a chord deep within me. The sentiment echoed almost exactly what I’d believed for most of my life, the same belief I’d decided to forsake not so long ago. And the founder’s thoughts were making me doubt my own.
After all, the lively and thriving existence of his clan was living proof that the idea wasn’t one that was impossible to live by. One that was impossible to succeed with. Which gave me much to think about.
While I was deep in my own thinking, the rest of my party had already grown bored of the sight and had begun to move forward. I followed behind them, only half listening as Tampter continued to talk, mostly about the sights in the village, but occasionally veering back into politics, as if he couldn’t help himself.
Ren, I gratefully noticed, piped up where I started to quiet down, keeping the conversation from dying awkwardly. Though, he seemed more interested in Tampter’s political gripes than the sights, likely because he probably couldn’t see most of the sights beyond vague outlines.
Eventually, we wound our way through the crowded streets of the main market area, finding ourselves in the markedly less crowded streets near the residential areas. I decided I liked the place much more, not only because of the sparser population, but also because of the houses themselves.
They were humble little things, only a single floor and hardly wide enough to house more than a few rooms. But each had such a unique life to it, with brightly painted, home-made decor adorning the windows and doorways, and yards sprinkled with toys and tools of all shapes and sizes. They were placed almost randomly, with little order or planning. The sight was a far cry from the cloned look of the city houses back on Earth.
“It’s beautiful,” I couldn’t help but remark, breaking my silence with a small whisper.
Tampter and Ren turned to look at me in surprise, since I’d unknowingly cut into their conversation. “What is?” Tampter asked.
I smiled. “Just…everything, honestly. This whole place, these houses, the market, it’s just beautiful.”
Tampter and Maya both smiled warmly at me, their faces brightening. “It is, isn’t it?” Tampter said in agreement, his voice quiet and honest.
The group was quiet for a bit after that, all of us silently taking in the air of beauty that hung over the village like a fog.
We only broke our silence when we made our last turn, stepping out into another clearing. But this one was far more sparse in population, as only a few people, huddled in groups of two or three, stood in conversation, randomly dotting the wide area.
Just next to the center of the area was the largest building I’d seen in the village yet. It was a grand hall, made entirely out of wood, and with a wide staircase leading up to its entrance.
“That’s it,” Tampter said, “that’s where your mother should be.”
Standing proudly behind the grand hall was the Purple Evermore tree that could be seen from everywhere in the village. The thing was utterly massive, more so up close, but it still paled when compared to the massive size of the trees on the horizon.
“How come the tree in the middle of the grove is so much smaller than the rest?” I asked as we began to make our way to the stairs.
“That’s the mother of the grove,” Tampter said simply, as if that explained everything.
“The mother? Why’s it called that?” I asked.
“Oh? You don’t know the fable of the Purple Evermore groves?” Tampter asked.
I shook my head.
“Well, that’s a fascinating story, let me tell you. Unfortunately,” he paused just as we reached the top of the stairs, pulling the double doors open to let us in, “it’ll have to wait for another time. For now, we bring a grieving mother the greatest gift possible. We, as bearers of the finest news she will ever hear in her life, stand to witness one of the most stirring and soul-touching sights in the world. Prepare yourselves.” And with that, he stepped into the hall.
Wide grins spread over all of our faces at his grandiose words. It was indeed a grand event that was soon to happen, despite Tampter's comic exaggeration. I’d been thinking of this moment ever since we’d taken Maya on, hoping against hope that nothing would go wrong, that Maya would be able to safely return to her life.
And for once, it seemed, fate was content to let things go my way.