Adahlia awakes the next morning to find Sotet furiously digging a hole in the dirt at the far corner of the cottage. She climbs out of bed and moves to his side.
“Sotet? What are you doing?” Adahlia asks—Her curiousity at a peak.
Sotet continues digging as he answers her question, not bothering to raise his head in her direction.
“Before we leave here, it would be best to secure our possessions,” Sotet explains. “I’m building a cellar under the cottage. We’ll leave what we cannot take with us in the cellar. Then, I’ll cover it over with dirt so that no one knows it is there.”
Adahlia nods agreement and crosses both arms over her chest. “Good idea. Can I help?”
Sotet finally glances up at Adahlia and offers her a warm smile. “Of course. In fact, I was hoping you’d ask. It’ll make things go a lot faster. There’s a shovel over there…Beside my tools.”
Adahlia playfully pokes Sotet’s wing and walks over to a table on the opposite side of the cottage—where Sotet’s tools are stored. She grabs the shovel and returns to her place beside Sotet. Adahlia tilts her head and stares at Sotet; a question on the tip of her tongue and showing on her face. Sotet continues working without the faintest clue that she is staring at him. Adahlia politely halts his digging with a small hand on his wing.
“I’m worried about you, Sotet,” Adahlia admits. “Since Lerfaf told you of Kotoro’s murder, you’ve barely slept. You don’t eat very much. You’re always working on one project or another. I don’t think this is good for you. If we’re going to journey to Lixuwon…You need to be strong. Working yourself to the bone like this isn’t going to help. If it’s like Diyrl said; we can make things right. There’s no hurry. You can take your time. It’s like when my father died—and my mother stayed home with me for three months. You need time to rest and to think. But mostly to rest. Mother said that it’s part of the process.”
Sotet turns to Adahlia and hugs her gently. He releases a deep sigh and rests his chin on the top of Adahlia’s head.
“You’re right. Of course. And I know it” Sotet trills softly. “But I am a crafter. Building things…Molding things into something new—that is how I keep my mind from going in frenzied circles. I loved Kotoro with all of my heart. I loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her. But she was high-born, a descendant of Shrevrsh; and I was the son of an artisan. I never expected that she would accept me for a mate. Sure, there are no true castes on Shretonia—But everyone knows their place. Her family never truly accepted me. Zorobo, most of all. When rumors that the Monoch had been infiltrated by possible imposters reached Kotoro, she became incensed. She was determined that the fame and good name of her family line should not be stained. Zorobo insisted that she was mistaken to distrust the Monoch rulers; and that the rumors were untrue. He blamed me for why she turned down an appointment as advisor to the Monoch to become a master artisan. He said he would never forgive me—That there would be a price to pay. He failed at taking my life, on more than one occasion. Now, he has taken Kotoro’s. He has destroyed me. He has taken my children. I cannot let his actions go unanswered.”
“And they won’t,” Adahlia exclaims. She firmly squeezes Sotet’s wing. “But you need to start taking better care of yourself, Sotet. There is so much more at stake than missing an opportunity to get revenge. We have to save our worlds and our families—and we’ll need your help to do it. You’re our artisan crafter. Where else am I going to get nifty little half-knives and bandoliers?”
Sotet pulls completely away from Adahlia and his eyes take on a far-off look. After a moment, a smile forms on his beak.
“Hm,” Sotet utters to himself.
Adahlia’s lip curls upward and she shoots him an inquisitive stare. “Hmmm, what?”
“Hmmm,” Sotet simply repeats. The smile on his face grows impossibly larger.
“What are you thinking, Sotet?” Adahlia cries impatiently.
“I’m thinking…” Sotet finally replies, “That my greatest work is yet to be undertaken. Enlist Diyrl and Lerfaf’s help if you must…But move all of our supplies from the hovercrafts to the cottage. I’ll need the metal, and the carriages, for what I have in mind.”
Adahlia grows concerned and puts out a hand, Sotet politely moves away from her reach. “Please, Adahlia…Do it now. Trust me. This is how you can help me.”
Adahlia is not wholly convinced, but she realizes it is a waste of time to try and dissuade Sotet from whatever he is planning. Without another word, she climbs to her feet and strolls out of the cottage.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Sotet continues to smile, the far-off look returning to his eyes.
“I am an artisan crafter. One of the best,” Sotet mutters to himself. “And now, I will prove it. Thanks to Zorobo and his henchmen…I’m nearly a world cycle behind. Time to try new things.”
Sotet reaches into his bandolier and removes a burlap pouch. Inside the pouch are two vials of liquid—one blue and one purple. Sotet holds them up to the light and smiles slyly.
“Thank you, Kotoro,” he trills. “I will use them wisely.”
_
_
Sotet takes a break from building the cellar and exits the cottage. He is covered in dirt from the top of his feathered head to the bottom of his taloned feet. However, his eyes are sparkling with excitement and promise.
“Take the supplies and cryo cultures inside and place them under the worktable. I’ll see if there is anything I might need later. I’m going to move the hovercrafts and other metal by the smelting pot.”
Adahlia opens her mouth to speak, but decides against it. She glances over at Lerfaf and he nods his head.
“I’ll help,” Lerfaf says. “Leave Sotet be. If this is how he chooses to move on…To divert his thoughts from painful emotions…Who are we to force him to do otherwise? Let him heal in his own way.”
Diyrl nods agreement—meeting Adahlia’s gaze. Adahlia sighs and offers them both a slight shrug.
“Whatever you say,” Adahlia says without much emotion. She grabs a knapsack of supplies from the ground and slings the strap over one shoulder. A second pack, she grabs and keeps at her side as she strolls back to the cottage.
Diyrl looks over at Sotet—who by now is muttering to himself and carrying various objects to the space around his large smelting pot. A strange smile is plastered to Sotet’s face and he seems extremely animated. Diyrl, unable to enter the cottage, due to her sheer size—decides to help Sotet instead. She takes flight and grabs one of the hovercrafts in her clawed feet. Flapping both wings, Diyrl carefully drops the hovercraft beside the smelting pot, and alights near Sotet. She offers Sotet her usual wolfish grin.
“You’re welcome,” Diyrl says mockingly.
Sotet barely acknowledges her presence. He moves with a singular purpose, thoughts and ideas wrestling in his brilliant mind.
“Oh…Yes…Thanks,” Sotet mutters.
Diyrl lowers her head level with Sotet and watches him work for a moment. She looks from him to the pile of empty cryo culture pods, and other assorted pieces of metal.
“So, what’s the plan?” Diyrl says softly.
“Mmm,” Sotet mutters.
“What’s that?” Diyrl says a little louder.
“You’ll see,” is Sotet’s only reply.
“Riggght—“ Diyrl intones. She narrows her eyes and her sly smile widens. “Well, I’ll just bring that other hovercraft on over here and leave you to it. Try not to have too much fun. You’ll make me jealous.”
Sotet freezes in place and blinks rapidly—processing the strangeness of Diyrl’s statement. Meanwhile, Diyrl once again takes flight and goes for the second hovercraft.
-
-
Adahlia is awakened in the middle of the night by the steady metallic clanking of hammer against metal. Adahlia grabs a pillow from beneath her head and flips onto her stomach. She holds the pillow tightly to her head to block out the sound of hammering.
_
_
The next morning, Adahlia quickly jumps out of bed and races outside. She is surprised to find that Sotet has put up a partition around his work area. Stopping at the edge of the tree line, Adahlia calls out to Sotet.
“What are you doing in there, Sotet?” Adahlia cries. “Why don’t you want any of us to see what you are doing?”
“Patience…Patience,” Sotet trills with a laugh. “When I am finished…You will all see my wonderful creations.”
Lerfaf, lying only a few yards away, chuckles softly. Diyrl clears her throat and rolls her large reptilian eyes.
“I think you overestimate your abilities, Sotet,” Diyrl says with a loud laugh. “Wonderful creations? How arrogant. What ever happened to humility?”
“Perhaps he never had any?” Lerfaf adds sarcastically—his eyes sliding in Diyrl’s direction.
Adahlia is unable to control her own laughter; after hearing Lerfaf’s foray into dry humor. She grips the side of the tree she is leaning against, and wags a finger at Lerfaf—while calling to Sotet.
“Just one peek, Sotet? I won’t tell either of them,” Adahlia begs. She turns back to Lerfaf and winks.
“No. You won’t. Because I’m not going to let any of you see what I am doing until I am done,” Sotet trills. “And that’s final.”
Adahlia releases the tree and tiptoes to the edge of the partition. She attempts to look over it, and through it, but is unable to see what Sotet is doing. She stamps her feet softly and places both hands on her hips.
“Not fair, Sotet,” she utters peevishly.
“Life is rarely fair, Adahlia,” Sotet trills in a singsong voice. “Now, stop bothering me.”
Blowing a raspberry at the partition, and Sotet, Adahlia visibly sulks as she walks to where Diyrl is resting in her favorite spot under the shade trees. She plops down against Diyrl’s side and looks up into the lix’s large eyes.
“Got any more good stories,” Adahlia says with a smile.
_
_
Almost two days pass before Sotet finishes his project. Opening a panel in the center of the partition’s wall, he steps out and offers the others a large grin.
“Now, you may see.” Sotet trills loudly. He is beside himself with excitement and joy.
Adahlia’s mouth drops open and her eyes widen.
“Wow. Oh, wow,” she whispers—the words nearly sticking in her throat.
Sotet has fashioned what amounts to a large flying chariot out of the metal from both hovercrafts and other miscellaneous things. Hanging beside the chariot is a metal chest-plate large enough for Diyrl; as well as one for each of the group.
Sotet is absolutely beaming as he studies his friends’ shocked expressions.
“In case, we meet anymore…unfriendlies,” Sotet says. “This time, we’ll be ready.”
Diyrl stares at Sotet with narrowed eyes, but her appreciation for his gifts is evident in her expression.
“I stand corrected,” Diyrl states in a firm voice. “Your creations are wonderful!”