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KALON
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Chapter Fifty-Seven: Tarvashal
Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant
Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation
Solar System: D-447
Planet: Ora
Location: Daska City, Outer city tribe lodgings, near city entrance
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Luna stands at my side, ready for what may be outside. Mustering the nerve, I open the hatch of the tribe hall door. Peering outside, I see nothing.
“Perhaps it was nothing.” She whispers, though I do not think she believes her own words.
Raising the blade in my injured arm, it is stiff, the medigel she gave me fused the bones, but they are still sore. It will be enough though, it must be. Raising my fingers, I count them down until they reach one. We swing the door open, rushing into the corridor, but we find… nothing.
“What was the sound then?” she asks, spinning around.
It takes me a minute, but I locate the source of the noise. A chunk of ice had fallen from the ceiling above the walkway. Looking closely, I see a crack stemming from one of our boots earlier that day. We will need to be more careful. No one has cleared the large icicles since the city was abandoned. To die by such a thing would be… unsatisfying.
“We should rest,” I say, she nods, no longer looking around cautiously. With her strength, maybe she does not fear the unknown.
Content it was nothing important, we move back into the hall, barring the door once more. Taking to the tribe chief’s quarters. She moves towards the chief’s bed, I lay a bedroll on the floor after barring the door. Tying a cord to the handle, I will fasten it to my ankle before I sleep, in case someone or something opens it, every second counts.
She sits down on the large bed, from her face I can tell she does not find it comfortable. Perhaps she is used to better accommodations. I know little about the Masters and their way of life. Only ever having seen their floating cities from far away. The Sage would speak of them though, telling me of their great houses, built upon lies and the blood of the innocent.
“You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” She says, putting two bedrolls in the middle of the bed to divide it.
“I don’t mind it,” I say, half of my nights for years were spent upon it. The comfort of a tribe chief’s bed is a luxury I am not sure my body could appreciate and remain sharp. I must be vigilant. For all of her strength, she does not seem accustomed to being wary of everything around her all the time. It makes me wonder how she normally lives.
“I insist.” She protests, though she does not meet my eye when she says it.
Should I refuse her? No, it is not worth offending her. Making more lengths on the cord so it will reach the bed, I take the opposite side of her. Neither lying down yet. We sit in silence, without talking for a time. Until finally she speaks.
“The journal you found, seemed important to you.” She says, shooting me a glance, then returning her gaze to the wall.
She is either very observant, or I was very obvious. Both are cause for concern. I will have to hide my intentions and emotions more.
“It contains valuable information, I think,” I say, pulling it from my coat before I take it off. I want to ask her about the strange black box that she carries, but the way she constantly checks to see if it is still there, I do not want to make her wary of me. If she sees me as a threat, or if she thinks I will try to steal it, then my life will be in danger. Better to try and have her speak on it. Feign disinterest. Another lesson from him… Nekam. The bitterness of his memory rises in me, only breaking when she speaks.
“Like what?” she asks, laying down and facing toward me, looking over the divider, pulling the large furs over her body, up to her chin. Is she actually curious at the journals contents? Or is she trying to get my guard down so she can ask about me being runeless? There is much left unsaid between us still.
“The journal has details of each Clan, who was in power, who is rich, who is poor.” I say, turning to look at her “This will save us time searching for supplies. I imagine you want to repair that?” pointing now to the broken device on her wrist. I remember that Betran the Arasha who I slew used a similar one to communicate with his cousin Mallock and others.
She nods, though she does not seem too concerned with the idea, why has she made no effort to be found? Why has she made no effort to seek out others from her ship? Curiosity gets the better of me.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Will you search for others from your crew once you have fixed it?” I ask, now gauging her reaction I press further saying “Perhaps they are looking for you.”
Her eyes glance over at me for a moment, there is caution in them, her mouth opens, and there it is again, a look like she is debating lying to me.
Not wanting to make her wary of me, I say “I will not pry into your business.”
She does not respond for a time. As though still debating within herself. Which will win, the lie or the truth I wonder. Thinking on the Sage’s words, they play again in my mind.
Truth is the foundation of trust
“They are not my crew.” She says after a time, rolling on her back and looking to the ceiling “I was never meant to be on that ship, not really.”
Her words feel bare of falsehood. Perhaps trust can be formed between us. However, I think the road will be paved with many misunderstandings.
“In truth, few know I am here. Fewer still know of…” she pauses shooting me another glance.
“The black box?” I ask, her eyes narrow at me. I have made a mistake here, I should not have spoken of it before her. Sekat, what is the look she is giving me?
“Yes.” She says, then looking at me almost sternly, clutching it under her garb “You should stay away from it, it has already tasted your blood.”
She speaks of it as though it has a mind of its own. Should I ask her more? Or have I already pressed my luck enough…
“It also tasted your blood,” I say, thinking back on it, recalling that it lit up when her blood rolled into it.
Her head tilts at me “Then we are both lucky it did not claim us.”
“What is it?” I find myself asking. Curiosity pressing past the caution.
“Evil,” she says. Rolling to her side, turning from me. Leaving me with more questions than answers.
Evil? Can an object be evil? What makes it so? I do not believe in such superstitious things. There must be logic behind it. Is it the being swathed in darkness that I saw that makes it evil in her eyes? Was that real or was I suffering hallucinations from blood loss? It must have been real. There are so many things that I cannot explain. I want to ask her more, but she has made it clear she wishes to speak no further on it. I am exhausted anyway. I should sleep. My weary body calls for it.
Turning out the lantern that we found discarded, I loop the cord from the door and lay down. I am instantly overcome with how comfortable it is. Sleep finds me before I can even think about the day's events.
***
A tugging at my foot pulls me violently from my sleep, my blade finds my hand as I swipe the cord and roll from the bed, ready for… my eyes adjust to the light. It is Luna, she is… laughing.
“Sorry, I just wanted to see what would happen.” She snickers, dropping the cord.
My breath becomes even but I feel irritation in my blood rising. It is not a thing to play around with. Taking a deep breath, I push out the tension in my chest and sit down on the bed. Untying the rest of the cord.
“Sorry,” she says, this time only slightly less annoyingly.
“It is fine,” I say.
“Are the Kuwathi always this serious?” she asks me, her tone is delicate and curious, yet, I still sense the playfulness.
I feel the annoyance rise to the surface as it spills from my lips.
“Always this serious?” I ask her, giving her a look “Have you not experienced what I have these two days we have been together? You crashed from the stars, fought a horde of creatures, and nearly became one…” I say, biting back my tongue, I should not have overreacted.
“Well, when you put it like that.” She says, raising an eyebrow, suppressing another giggle “It has been interesting so far.”
I taste blood on my tongue as I hold back the annoyance from being uttered. Does she mean to upset me? To what end? No, I will not play this game meant for children. My legs stand, taking me outside the tribe chief's chamber.
“Kalon.” She says.
It bites my ear as she says it, giving me pause. It is the first time someone of a higher caste has called me by it. It is strange, everything about this situation is strange, this woman is unlike any I have known.
“I did not mean to offend.” She says, this time there is no playfulness, only sincerity as she says “I am unfamiliar with much of your way of life.”
“I said, it is fine,” I reply.
“Most Kuwathi that I have known that are not from Ora are less…” she pauses as though choosing her words carefully “Serious than you seem to be.”
There is much I could say here, but I will not. She has met other Kuwathi? Curiosity brims in me, so I ask her.
“You have met my people before, on other worlds?”
“Yes, my governess…” she pauses, the word catching in her throat “A member of my house,” her words catch again, her eyes shooting me a glance “A friend I meant, from back home, she is Kuwathi. As is the companion I traveled with before.”
“Was he on the ship with you?” I ask her, hoping to glean more. I am curious if he still lives. I remember being wary of him.
“No, he is likely in Tarvashal.” She says with a sigh “I need to go there and find him. Though, it is probably best if I lay low for a while.”
It explains her lack of urgency now. She does not want to be found yet. I wonder why. The name of the city, Tarvashal, I know it, even though she mispronounced it. The name belongs to a large Arasha city, perhaps the largest on the planet. The Sage spoke of it before. Saying it was a place severely lacking in virtue. It was always strange to me that an Arasha city bore a Kuwathi name, the Sage never spoke of why. But I know its meaning, place of contemplation. Though some debate its true meaning, most agree this is the most accurate translation.
Why does she need to go there? Who is this companion she must meet? And what is a governess? She spoke of a house… I have heard this term before. It is what the Masters use to divide themselves. The house that rules this solar system is House Helenius. I wonder if she knows them. I wonder if she is important in her house, or just a cog in the wheel as I was to my tribe. Thinking now about her actions and the way she carries herself, she is humble, extremely so when I consider her abilities. I would be surprised if she was high-ranking in her house. Her eyes linger on me, so I break the silence, wishing to learn more from her.
“What house do you come from?” I ask her, hoping to start small and work my way forward. There are so many questions I would ask if she would let me.
“I…” she begins, turning from me completely and looking towards the door “We should begin our search.”
She does not say something as simple as her house’s name. Perhaps it is not simple. One thing is certain now though. She does not trust me. Which means, I cannot fully trust her either. There is wariness in both of us now, not just for the creatures that might lurk… but for each other as well.