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Kalon
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Chapter Twenty-Two: Igarak
Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant
Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation
Solar System: D-447
Planet: Ora
Location: Beneath the planet's surface, Naro City, Lower City Markets
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“So, what is the backup plan?” Arrum asks, cracking his neck. He is growing impatient; I can feel it in his stance.
Korra pauses for a moment, looking around the market. The Guard Captain is still moving through the crowd, searching for someone or something. Why we need him, is still a mystery.
“There is a woman who has been frequenting the market for a few months on and off, looking for someone,” Korra says, yawning as she stretches.
“Who does she seek?” Arrum asks.
“The Sage.” She says, with another yawn after shooting a quick glance at me.
“She searches for the dead then,” I say.
It is not uncommon for people to search for the Sage, though it has become less frequent as time passes. He was known in more than just our city. A wanderer without a Clan or a tribe, yet still, people listened to his words and took note of his actions. His echoes are heard even now.
“We all seek the dead,” Korra begins, looking at me intently now “It is the dead that hold our regrets.”
“What is so special about this woman searching for the Sage?” Arrum asks, like me and many others, he has seen it plenty of times.
“She is not Kuwathi,” Korra says, giving both of us an eyebrow raise.
“Why is she looking for him then?” I ask. It is strange that someone who is not Kuwathi would search for him.
“Do I look like I tell fortunes?” she asks, twirling her hair on a finger, metallic clasps in her dark green hair jingling a sweet melody of playfulness.
“A little,” Arrum says, backing away after a moment.
She does not get angry though, in fact, she laughs.
“The first funny thing you’ve said.” She says, patting Arrum on the head “Well done.”
Arrum’s face skews as he gives me a glance, he is not enjoying her company. Strangely, I am though. Which I think irritates him more as he swats her hand away.
“So angry all the time.” She says with a sigh, shooting me a glance “Is he always like this?”
“Enough banter, where is the woman?” I ask, not wanting her to push Arrum further. More than that though, I wonder why someone above the Kuwathi would seek the Sage. This is something I have not seen before.
“I will decide when my banter is enough.” She says, but her tone is playful, coming into my space now, she flicks her hair against my skin as she passes.
Her hand grasps mine as she uses it to point toward the far side of the market.
“You will find her sulking over there,” Korra says.
“What does she look like?” Arrum asks.
“Don’t know, her face is always covered.” Korra shrugs, her hand still has not released mine as the fingers of her other hand playfully trace up my arm until they reach my chin, she pulls my face towards her slowly.
“You would not be the first to try and seduce him,” Arrum says warningly, he shakes his head at me.
Korra laughs and turns back to me, giving a strangely playful smile, ignoring Arrum completely now as she leans in and says in my ear.
“I would be the last.”
The quickness of my pulse tells me she is dangerous. Pulling my arm from her grasp, I move away giving Arrum a nod so he will follow and help me search out this woman. I am ready to be far from Korra’s wiles. There is something in my chest that makes me feel guilty, thoughts of Nevari rising to the surface. My feelings for her are still in a knot, so I push them down with the rest. Letting out a sigh, I press my way through the crowd.
Arrum stops when we are halfway to our destination, turning back, I see Korra whispering to him. He gives her an annoyed glance and nods for me to continue, she must want him to do something else. A flare of irritation rises and falls quickly thinking about how she and Nekam both reveal so little when it would only help to know more. If there is no purpose behind us not having known what the plan was, I am afraid that my tongue might betray me when I see my chief next. So much secrecy. I am tired of being sent towards death with little to no reasoning. Pressing the thoughts from my mind, I come upon the area that Korra instructed.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Looking between the stalls, at first, I do not see anyone out of place, but when I reach the area where rations are sold, I hear a merchant swearing loudly.
“She is back again, Vekka.” The merchant says “Will the guard do nothing? Lower markets are supposed to be ours, why can’t she go peddle in the upper.”
“They will leave, they always do.” One of his clansmen says.
The merchant kicks his wares stall’s metal frame, his expression changing to one of pain as he limps to a stool and cradles his foot, his eyes faintly glowing.
My eyes trace to where he was looking before. I see a crowd of people gathered around a table, unlike the other ones, this table is… too clean for the lower markets. Shuffling through the crowd, I try to get a closer look at the merchant who owns it.
There are greedy hands outstretched pulling something from a hand dressed in fine clothing, the make of which I have only seen the Arasha merchants wear.
“Any information will be rewarded.” A voice says, there is an accent to it, one that I have not heard before. It is not like the Arasha I have met. Strange.
Pushing closer I see the woman, her face is indeed covered, the only thing that is defining that I can see are a few strands of blue hair coming from behind her deeply tinted mask. The mask is similar to the ones that Arasha wear, covering her entire face, yet her mannerisms seem off. Arasha do not engage so close with the lower market. They use the mid-rank clans to peddle their wares. They usually speak down to us as well. This woman’s words appear to be like she is addressing an equal.
“I saw the Sage last month.” a man says with an open grin, missing his front teeth, he bears a mark on his neck that says Igarak. Bringer of Lies. A brand given to those whose tongue only knows falsehood.
The woman hands him a bar of rations, but the wrapper is strange, there is writing on it, more than ours normally has, and the color is different than our grey one, this one is red and yellow.
“Where did you see him?” she asks him intently.
“I am worried for my safety, perhaps another ration would help.” The man explains, from the look in his eyes, I know his skin bears the mark for a reason.
She hands him another ration bar. His face erupts with laughter.
“In my dreams!” he yells, darting through the crowd.
The woman lets out an audible sigh, a figure behind her steps forward to chase the man, but she holds up a hand stopping them. The figure looks like a large man, they are cloaked head to toe, I cannot even see their hair as their head appears to be wrapped tightly under the mask. Something about him seems off, more so than the woman. I am wary of him, even though I don’t understand why.
“It is fine, he needs it more than I.” she says calmly, now looking to the next person in the small crowd around her “What do you bring me?”
“The Sage spoke this to me once.” An old woman says, there is no deceit in her eyes as she leans in to whisper the words to the woman.
“Yes, I have heard that one, do you have anything else?”
The older woman shakes her head, lowering her gaze, a disappointed look on her face. She is about to turn away, but the woman with the strange accent and blue hair grabs her hands gently and places a ration bar into her grasp. The older woman looks at her confused.
“I have nothing else to give.” The older woman says, trying to push it back.
“As he taught, compassion is among the greatest of virtues.” The woman says, her voice is soft, unlike any Arasha I have heard before.
Not all of them are overly demeaning, but almost none of them would give without thought of reward. Perhaps this woman did know the Sage. I am curious now, how could she have known him? In truth, I did not ever learn much about his past, he was evasive with many things. Giving me riddles instead of answers.
The next few people give her similar answers, ones she has heard, each time she gives them a ration despite gaining nothing. A strange concept, one I have never seen anyone do except for the Sage himself. Whoever she is, she may speak the truth, she may have actually known him.
The crowd swells more as news of her arrival makes it around the market. I see the flicker of green hair amongst the crowd now. It is Korra, but Arrum is not with her. Where is he? Korra motions me forward to go and speak with the woman. Letting out a sigh, I walk toward the front. Trying to think of what to say. There are many words the Sage spoke. There is one that I heard him only say once, after he found me cursing the gods for making me runeless and, taking my mother from me. Painful memories try to rise, but I press them down firmly, as I always have done.
“There is a time and a place to feel sorry for oneself,” I say loudly over the crowd pushing to the front.
The woman turns to me now, pushing a ration into someone’s hand.
“When?” she asks, folding her arms.
“Never.”
She lets out a restrained laugh, holding her sides. Nodding her covered head twice.
“He used to say the same thing to me when I was a girl.” She says, there is nostalgia in her tone, I can hear it through the helmet and the accent she fails at hiding, despite her trying “His words have shaped me, I feel them in my actions even now, after so many years.”
She pushes forward a bar of rations into my hands, gripping them gently.
“Do you know where he is?” she asks, there is desperation in her grip, she truly does seek him.
I feel a brushing on my shoulder as Korra comes to my side, leaning her head on my shoulder, and looking sideways at the woman.
“I wonder, you say you seek the Sage, yet the Sage could be anyone.” Korra says, twirling a strand of her green hair in her hand “What is his name?”
There is a grumbling in the crowd as she says this, but the woman does not understand why as she looks around.
“Artemius.” She says.
“Oh my,” Korra says, covering her mouth, and letting out a snicker.
The crowd around the woman disperses quickly, snatching rations from the table as they do.
“Wait, please wait.” She says to the crowd.
I still do not see Arrum among them. Where is he?
“We should leave,” I say to Korra.
“No, we are right where we are meant to be.” She says, beaming a smile at me.
“Why do they always leave when I say his name?” The blue-haired woman asks, hanging her head lower, she is frustrated, rightfully so, Korra did this on purpose. It must be part of the plan somehow.
“To speak his name is to court death,” I say to her. My eyes trace through the crowd still trying to find Arrum.
It has been so long since I heard the name, Artemius. Most knew him as the Sage. An old wound in my heart tingles as I think of his passing. There was so much more hope in the city when he was alive. Under his guidance, many thrived.
“What do you mean? It is a name, why would it court death?” She asks me, coming closer now, there is a strange smell about her, not a foul one, but a pleasant one. A smell that I feel I recognize from somewhere I can’t place. Strange.
“Zegan, the city chief, the one who had him executed, has forbidden it,” I say.
Less than twenty paces away, I see people speaking with city guards, pointing toward us.
“Sekat.” I curse.
Korra begins humming a playful tune, stretching her legs, and preparing herself. Letting out a sigh, I do the same.