By the time Kivi awoke the next morning, news of her... promotion had spread through the rest of the village. As she stepped from her tent into the glittering light of dawn, two young girls passing by with a large bucket held between them murmured a hesitant, “Good morning, High Priestess,” before darting away as quick as their load would allow them.
Kivi blinked after the pair. Her first thought was, how could they possibly have known that? Followed immediately by, Who in the world thought a bucket worth carrying all the way from the village?
Yet once she stopped to consider it, the answer was obvious. After all, the avatar himself must have informed Shamain of the promotion, either before or after Kivi’s visit, and it would have taken the woman only the scant time needed to fill her lungs with air before she began repeating the news to anyone willing to listen.
Or even unwilling, knowing Shamain.
Doubtless the older lud hadn’t meant to cause trouble by informing the rest of the village—Shamain might enjoy teasing Kivi about everything from her cooking to her love life—but she wasn’t needlessly cruel. Perhaps she even thought she was doing a favor by getting the word out.
Yet the gap that existed between Kivi and the rest of the village was certain to widen even further than it had already. She had hoped to have at least a day, perhaps two, before word spread, enough time to build relationships with the other village elders, to soothe worries about the loss of their homes and fear over what awaited them ahead.
Now, she would only be able to approach them from a position of power. Either they would be hesitant to speak to her for fear of Xeph-Zul-Karatl’s retribution, or they’d dismiss her out of hand as undeserving of such a lofty title.
Either way, the difficulty of the tasks ahead had just increased tenfold.
Shaking her head, Kivi managed to push these worries aside, and set off in search of some much-needed breakfast. Dealing with the elders was important, but ultimately it would have to wait until the village was settled again.
She found a pair of young men tending to what were likely the last of the spirebeans. Like last night, they were using a large pythian bark trough salvaged from the village wreckage, one boy stirring the beans with a flat piece of wood serving as a makeshift spoon while the other tended to the fire underneath.
Kivi smiled as the first boy looked up. “Good morning Garuth. Are those close to done yet?”
“I believe so, High Priestess,” the boy said with a quick bob of his head. It took all of Kivi’s willpower not to frown at the use of her new title. By the Butcher’s eye, the boy was a year her senior, and a respected member of the Etruscian caste to boot! Seeing him bow and shuffle to her of all lud was almost too much.
Taking the offered bowl, she retreated to the far side of the clearing, finding a small stone to sit on where she would be left in peace. It wouldn’t be long until the camp was on the move again, and she needed to start planning for the day while she had the opportunity.
First, there was the matter of transporting their supplies. Yesterday they had managed well enough, but Kivi thought if she recruited some of the younger members to haul the larger pieces they had salvaged, that might increase their efficiency. She could also set the elders to mind the little ones, as their pace should be similar enough. Then, if need be, the group could split in two, with the faster ranging ahead to establish camp, should the avatar’s temple not prove as habitable as he seemed to believe it would be—
“Ahem.”
Glancing up, Kivi saw Shamain standing over her, a similar bowl clutched in her gnarled hands. A lump rose in her throat, and Kivi was surprised to discover that she had not forgiven the elder as much as she had thought. Barely managing to keep the iciness from her voice, she asked, “Yes?”
“Thought I might join you for breakfast. Assuming there’s room enough on that rock for my scrawny old bottom.”
There really wasn’t, but Kivi scooted over anyway, letting slip a slight grimace as Shamain’s elbows dug into her side. The older lud either didn’t notice or, more likely, didn’t care.
“So,” Shamain said, shifting about to claim more of the miniscule seat. “High Priestess.”
Kivi picked at her beans. “Yes, it would appear so. If you are here merely to—”
“Oh, perish the thought, girl. We both know you’re the most suited to dealing with all the rakshit that’s likely to come your way. Just be glad the foolish lad didn’t also name you the new leader of our community, besides! Now that might have done more than raise a few eyebrows.”
Interesting. It seemed the elders were concerned about Kivi’s qualifications, after all. She opened her mouth to ask for further details, but Shamain simply talked right over her. “That’s all a concern for later. We need to discuss what you intend to do about this avatar we’ve chained ourselves to.”
“Do about—?” Kivi blinked. “Shamain, he saved us! He saved the entire village!”
“Oh, I’m plenty aware. The real question is—why? Wasn’t exactly a concern while the cult still had us by the tenterhooks, then I was just glad for anything that turned the situation to our advantage. But now the dust is settling, and it’s time we started getting some answers.”
Kivi frowned, then took a bite of her beans. She thought for a moment while chewing. “I would think it’s obvious. Xeph must have lost his former following. It supposedly happens, doesn’t it? Up north, with its thousands of bickering gods. Callan can’t be the first avatar wandering the Badlands, hoping to start over.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not. Certainly, the first I’ve heard tell of in my lifetime.” The older lud shook her head. “We know too little of the ways of the world, shut apart as we are down here. All I can do is speculate based on what we know about the avatar. And the rest of his race.”
“You mean the yeth,” Kivi said. Shamain nodded.
“Exactly. Parias took you with him when he visited Aos, didn’t he?”
It took Kivi a moment before she could answer, her heartbeat erratic. Finally, she wrestled it under control. “He did.”
“Then you know what yeth are like. Cunning, calculating creatures. Hearts of stone, most of them, if they have hearts at all! And now we find ourselves serving a god that chose one of them for their avatar. Doesn’t bode well if you ask me.”
Kivi almost pointed out that she hadn’t, in fact, asked, but instead took a moment to consider Shamain’s words.
“You think Callan may have other plans for us? Beyond Xeph’s desire for followers?”
“Could be. Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve heard stories of avatars using a cult to their own advantage.” Shamain blinked, then let out a cackling laugh. “I suppose we’re in a cult ourselves now, aren’t we? Never thought I’d live to see the day.”
From somewhere nearby a call went up. It sounded like Garuth, but Kivi wasn’t certain. “Last chance for beans! Anyone who hasn’t eaten yet best hustle over!”
Shamain squeezed Kivi’s shoulder with one hand, using two more to shovel the remains of her breakfast into her mouth. “Best get a move on, camp will be breaking up soon. I imagine you’ll be wanting to check on your avatar.”
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“Yes, someone should make certain he’s fed before the last of breakfast is distributed.” Kivi rose herself, only to find Shamain’s hand still on her shoulder.
“Listen, girl. Whatever is going on between you and the lad, you should... encourage it. Might help keep whatever plans this avatar and his god have for us to a minimum.”
Immediately, a blush lit itself across Kivi’s cheeks. “Shamain, enough! Your jokes were bad enough before I became high priestess, but now—”
“This is no joke,” Shamain said, her eyes piercing through Kivi’s skull. “I’m not telling you to deceive him, but if you do actually care for this Callan, well... it couldn’t hurt to have more than one source of influence over the avatar, when the time comes. There’s a certain power to be gained by climbing into a man’s bed. Think about it.”
The blush spread further over Kivi’s face, tying her tongue in knots. By the time she recovered, Shamain was gone, her coarse shouts and cackles barely audible over the din of the waking village.
Kivi stared after her, bowl of spirebeans forgotten. She knew she should turn her thoughts back to organizing the village’s march this day, but all she could think about were Shamain’s words. Surely, the old woman was just growing paranoid. Callan was no lud, true, but he seemed to genuinely care about them. No one would risk so much for a village of strangers unless they were a truly decent person.
And as for Shamain’s other comments...
She shook the returning blush from her cheeks and put everything the woman had said out of her mind. Eventually, the avatar would let his intentions be known one way or another, and she’d deal with the problem then.
For now, it was time to see if their new benefactor had managed to find himself any breakfast.
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The lud came to a halt around midday beside a weather-beaten jacaranda tree, with only a few leaves still clinging to its upper branches. Kivi stared at it, wondering how such a tiny tree managed to survive here at all. The poor thing was barely more than thirty or forty feet tall.
She moved to the front of the line, where the avatar was staring about, clearly looking for something.
“Avatar? What is the matter?”
“Hmm? Oh, hey high priestess. You remember you can just call me Callan, right?”
“I could, yes,” Kivi agreed. Then she added, “But I will not. As high priestess, it would be disrespectful to both your own title and you personally—”
The avatar waved a hand dismissively. “Fine, fine, whatever. Want to help me look?”
“Of course. What, exactly, are we looking for?”
A grin spread onto his face. “I’ll know it when I see it, apparently. Xeph says it’s a teleportation circle. It’s supposed to connect to the one down in the temple below us.”
Kivi wasn’t entirely certain what teleportation meant, but she understood circle well enough. Calling over a few more lud to assist, they spread out and began poking beneath bushes and under rocks.
Eventually, one of the searchers found it, an older Biiran caste by the name of Paeral. At least, he found a... corner of it.
Scraping away the dirt near the base of the jacaranda, he showed them the slab of stone buried beneath. A band of bronze or some similar metal ran through it.
The avatar glanced at the buried stone, then nodded. “Yep, that’s it.” He stared at nothing for a moment, then scowled. “Damnit, Xeph, enough with your crowing. I never said I wouldn’t recognize it when I saw it, I just—” A pause, then, “Hey, I am not bitter, I was just expecting—No, you were the one who—Bah!”
Leaving the avatar to commune with their god, Kivi began organizing the others. Soon, several shovels were located and digging commenced. Those that had no tools helped remove the dirt elsewhere, or pulled rocks, or just gathered what they could with their hands.
Perhaps a half-hour later, the circle was revealed in all its glory.
“Well, that explains why it didn’t work so well from the other end”, the avatar said, stopping next to Kivi. He grabbed her shoulder as she stepped forward and pulled her back. “Hold on now, High Priestess. No telling whether it still works. Better let me test it first.”
“With all respect, avatar, but that is exactly why you shouldn’t be the first to test it.” Before he could protest further, she pulled free of his grip and stepped inside the circle. She turned about to look at him, arching one eyebrow.
“Huh. Guess it’s still not functional. Maybe we need to turn it on downstairs first,” the avatar said, rubbing at the back of his head. Kivi rejoined him at the circle’s edge.
“And how do we do that?”
A nervous grin slid onto the avatar’s face. “Probably better if you just see for yourself.”
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“And you’re certain this is the only way?”
“You know, I feel like there’s no good answer to that question,” the avatar said, helping her down to the next ledge. Above them, several dozen lud peeked their heads over the edge, watching as avatar and high priestess risked their lives descending the sheer cliff.
Kivi shook her head at the madness of it all.
“Whoops, hold on a minute.” The avatar’s grip tightened on her, and he gave a wave of his hand. The step below them bulged outward, growing thicker on the bottom as well. Once it had doubled in size, he gave a satisfied nod. “There, much better.”
“Your skill appears to be improving,” Kivi noted.
“Yeah, benefit of sixty-plus additional followers, I guess. Sadly, Xeph says the ability won’t actually get more powerful until we reach the next tier.”
Kivi blinked and said nothing. She had no idea what the avatar meant by ‘tier’, but doubted it would be the last time he spoke of realms and ideas beyond her understanding.
The avatar hopped down to the next step, and Kivi followed. The bottom of the makeshift stairway was drawing nearer, and already the onlookers above had slipped from view. With luck, she would be back on solid ground in minutes.
“Thanks again for not freaking out over this,” Callan said over his shoulders. “I know I certainly balked the first time Xeph told me I had to go up the damn cliffside. Course, I was making the stairs as I went...”
Kivi smiled. “This is nothing, Avatar.”
“Yeah, I suppose it wouldn’t be. You guys climbed that pythian tree every day, so what’s a little fall off a cliff like this?”
“That is not it at all.” She took a moment to gather her thoughts while Callan glanced back curiously at her. “Given everything you have done for us, after you risked your very life for our freedom, it would be rather hypocritical to refuse to do the same, wouldn’t it? After all, these cliffs cannot compare to pushing back the cult single-handedly.”
The avatar snorted at that. “It was hardly single handed. Besides, what were my other choices? Wander for another forty years in the Badlands? No thanks.”
“Another forty years?”
“Huh?” Callan glanced back at her, then pulled a face. The expression was so low brow, so... Daisa, that Kivi was momentarily taken aback. “Right. That’s an... Never mind. Forget I said that.”
“Of course, Avatar.”
“And enough with the titles, already!” He hopped down onto another ledge, his feet sliding dangerously on a few pebbles that must have fallen from above. Kivi’s heart leapt into her throat, but fortunately nothing happened. Quickly she clambered down after him.
“As I said above—”
“I know, I know.” He waved her words away. “It’s just, where I come from, only stuffy rich guys and military types insist on using titles. Since I’m neither, it just feels weird, you know? I keep thinking I need to say, ‘don’t call me mister avatar, that was my father’s name’, or something.”
“Oh, I see.” Kivi didn’t, actually. Somehow the avatar must have intuited that from her tone, as he glanced back at her quizzically.
“I’m sensing a ‘but’, there, High Priestess.”
“It is just...” She hesitated. While it was not her place to pry, Kivi realized this might be the perfect opportunity to try and learn some more about her avatar—where he came from, or what his people were like. Why he spoke so strangely. Everything about him was an enigma to her.
It certainly wasn’t because of her conversation with Shamain that morning. She simply wanted to know more about Callan, and not because she worried that he might have other long-term plans for her and her people...
Quickly, Kivi snapped the lid shut on that line of thought.
Curse Shamain. May the Sentinel take her for putting such ideas in my head. And me too, for being foolish enough to listen!
Belatedly, she realized the avatar was still waiting for an answer. Hurried, she continued, “I had thought all yeth were obsessed about ranks and titles. Clearly, I was mistaken. Is it not so amongst your people?”
She waited. Would the avatar finally tell her about his time before the village? Any tidbit of information might provide insight into what he intended.
Unfortunately, his answer wasn’t what she expected. Callan scratched at the back of his head awkwardly. “Right. The archon called me a yeth, too. What is that? Some kind of insult?”
“It’s a race.” Kivi gaped at the avatar. “It’s... your race? You are a yeth.”
“Um, pretty sure I’m not.” The avatar went silent for a moment, staring off at nothing. Kivi continued watching him warily. Could he... simply not know? How was that possible? Unless...
Before she could dwell overlong, Callan shook his head. “Nope, Xeph just confirmed it. I’m not a yeth. Apparently yeth have... six fingers? Really, Xeph? You can remember a detail like that, but when I ask about—” He went silent again. Then, “No, I’m not going to tell her. Because. Because I don’t want to. Look, you tell me why it’s so damn important she know and I’ll tell her right now. Until then, the decision rests with me.”
“Um, Avatar?” Kivi winced. She hated to interrupt his communing with their god, but... “Do you think you could have this conversation later?”
“Right, of course. Sorry, High Priestess.” Callan practically leapt down the next three steps, then stopped. Kivi scrambled after him as quickly as she dared, only to discover him standing before an enormous door. It was made of a metal she didn’t recognize, similar to iron but... smoother. She wasn’t sure how else to describe it.
“High Priestess Kivi, may I present to you the temple of Xeph-Zul-Karatl, god of stone and mountains.” With a flourish, the avatar pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit tunnel beyond. “Welcome to your new home.”