Vedek

Acquiring food proved the trickiest part of the road to Spiral City. They had left Sráid with no supplies and only Onakie had her weapons. Vedek proposed they could divert to any of the three towns vassaled to Sráid to acquire supplies. Onakie turned down the idea. Kelmin was no doubt sending messengers to each of those towns to spread the news of Fellior’s death and the runaways responsible. Even with their head start, any delay, any witness to the Princess and her Keeper, would bring every vengeful soldier in Sráid down upon them.

There were a few places they could stop. Farms where the news had not yet been heard. Kind people donated portions of their harvest to the Princess and her traveling companions. If any ever asked what she was doing away from Sráid Odile would improvise an answer along the lines of being on “a deserved holiday.” Once away, Odile would lament being unable to pay them for their generosity.

Beyond the farmlands, and beyond Sráid territory, they had to hunt for their meals. As the better rider of the group Vedek would scout ahead. In this hilly section of Athshin, oryx was the main game animal. They gathered in herds of twenty or so. Vedek would report back to the others of the herd’s location. Next, he and Azeroth would ride towards the herd, spooking the oryx into running. With careful coordination, they would direct the herd towards Frost and Onakie. Frost, shifted and stripped of most of his clothing, was able to catch one of the slower oryx and wrestle it to the ground. Onakie would arrive quickly to finish the animal off with her sword. The plan worked the few times they attempted it. It had been Frost’s idea, drawing from Amarok hunting tactics.

Water was trickier to acquire. Azeroth directed them towards what he called “sweating cacti.” This was a tall, swollen species of cactus that collected rain in four funnel-shaped arms to store in the trunk. The cacti were so engorged with water that it would condensate outside it, creating the “sweating” appearance. Normally the water inside the cactus was toxic, but it was concentrated near the base of the trunk. By cutting near the top, one could make a faucet of reasonably safe drinking water.

“--Just watch for when it starts turning green or blue,” Azeroth warned.

“How did you learn this?” Vedek was awed by the survival technique.

Azeroth shrugged. “I’ve had to live in the wild for long stretches. Back when I was alone most of the time.” He didn’t offer any more information.

Cactus water was fine for the travelers, but the horses needed more to slake their thirst if the group was to keep them running each day. It was Onakie’s plan that they would find the Hambrientorío river and keep along it until they reached Spiral City. That was still a day away by her estimate. They needed water now.

During his scouting, Vedek located a watering hole. It was small, possibly the result of a natural spring, but it could have been the Skald’s Sea for as parched as he was. The area was fenced off. The owner of the land was a duende named Bitters Námguz. He sold access to the oasis for forty-five silver per horse, plus ten more if the rider wanted a drink as well.

Vedek reported this all to the group. They had no money. Frost acknowledged the jewelry box Odile had taken with her. She had been attached to the box since leaving Sráid. She asserted that the contents of the box were not for sale, and the venom in her tone was enough that no one broached the topic again. Azeroth was all for storming the place, but Onakie pointed out that causing a scene would put Kelmin on their trail, unless they killed everyone, which was out of the question. Odile volunteered to negotiate with the owner; at the very least to see what kind of man he was.

They got their answer upon approaching the farmhouse that Bitters Námguz conducted his business from. He was sat in a duende sized rocking chair practicing on a wooden recorder. He was old, but well preserved. His shirt was unbuttoned from the heat and his feet were bare, though a pair of black boots were close by. Near him was a large sign colorfully painted in Common:

“Pardon/Hola, I/We/My family have been on the road/lost for days. My/Our water reserves have run out and I/we are dying of thirst. I/We have no money, but if I/we don’t drink soon I/we will die.I/we don’t need a lot, just a mouthful/skinful/barrelful of water. I/we can pay you back once I/we reach the nearest city/return home/find the lost treasure. Please Señor, look into your heart do not turn me/us away.”

Beneath that sign was a second that read “YOU’RE NOT SAYING ANYTHING NEW.”

Señor Námguz seemed quite satisfied with himself as the five members of Vedek’s party took their time to read the sign. It certainly dismissed whatever Odile had planned on saying.

“All dressed up and no party around, huh?” Námguz laughed as he surveyed the group.

“What’s stopping me from kicking your ass?” Azeroth casually asked. Onakie lightly smacked him, a reminder of what they had discussed earlier. Azeroth pointed to the sign to imply that Námguz deserved it.

“Daw, Eddo, and Crave.” Námguz answered just as casually as Azeroth. He pointed his recorder to the side of the house. Three large lizardfolk were basking in the sun, a collection of weapons within arm’s reach. When they heard their names called each lazily raised their heads and scrounged for the nearest weapon.

“Do you only accept coin?” Odile asked.

“Coin, or something I can sell for coin. And if you’re selling, I have last say on the value.”

Onakie made a dismayed grunt. “If only I still had my armor. Could trade that easily.” She had abandoned most of her armor on a hilltop during their second day of travel. Losing it made it easier for her to keep up with the horses. All that remained were her bracers and a leather vest. She still kept her sword and shield, which she now contemplated selling so Odile could drink.

A guilty expression crossed Odile’s face as Onakie looked at her shield.

“Do you have a daughter, Señor Námguz?” She spoke quickly, cutting Onakie off.

“Yeah, I do. Would I let her die if she were you? Probably not, but then she isn’t the kind to go wandering without enough water to see her to her destination.” The old man was again trying to predict what they’d say. Vedek wondered how long he had been doing this to be so familiar with, and so jaded by, the language of beggars who couldn’t afford his prices.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” Odile remained diplomatic. “How old is she?”

“Two-hundred and twenty-two.” Námguz sang.

“So she’s full grown,” Odile stayed in dialogue. Onakie watched her with confusion. Odile gestured to herself. “-Probably around the same proportions as a young elden fae.”

For the first time, the group had Señor Námguz’s curiosity. He leaned forward in his chair. “What are you getting at?”

“Does she want a new dress?” Odile gestured to her outfit, the same she had worn at the banquet. It wasn’t as damaged as one would imagine, perhaps slightly foxed from travel, but it could be cleaned and mended.

Señor Námguz hopped out of his chair. The lizardfolk off to the side stirred, but waited for an order. Námguz circled Odile, looking her up and down. They were around the same height, with Námguz having a few more centimeters over her. He said nothing. Onakie was pained by the scene, but Námguz kept his eyes on the dress. At one point he reached out to check the material on her sleeve, which forced Vedek to throw up his hands to stop Onakie from tackling him.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“It’s a good garment. My daughter would be the envy of every girl around her. I bet she’d like that…” He looked up from the dress to the child wearing it. The cynical look in his eye had been replaced with something gentler. “Not the first time I’ve had someone offer me the clothes off their back, but definitely the first time its come from one so young. What the shit are the rest of you doing that a child is the one to make the sale?”

“Does that mean you accept?” Odile asked. Námguz nodded, extending a weathered hand to the girl. “Yes, I accept, but what will you wear young one? You have spare clothes, yes?”

Odile tentatively shook her head. Námguz copied the motion. “It won’t do. Since you are giving me a dress for my daughter, you can take an outfit of hers. She visits occasionally, and is always leaving her clothes around.”

He ordered the lizardfolk to let them into the watering hole. Impressively, he even spoke the lizardfolk language to give orders. Vedek could not begin to imagine the manipulations of the mouth needed to replicate such speech.

The horses were eager to drink from the pond, as were their riders. Frost laid on his stomach to drink while Azeroth took the opportunity to wash himself of grit and sweat. Odile emerged from Námguz’s looking like a farmhand. It was a coarse skirt and long-sleeved shirt made of alpaca wool dyed in shades of pink and gray. It was quite the change from the royal attire she had worn, but Vedek supposed the first time they had met she was dressed in rags.

They didn’t stay at the watering hole long, just until the horses had drank their fill. They thanked Námguz for his generosity, which he dismissed as just business. He was already working on the green dress with needle and thread to fix the damaged sections.

That evening they crossed into the territory of Spiral City. The rocky hills and scarce foliage gave way to grassy flatlands. A hint of color in the distance caught Vedek’s eye, a patch of wild sunflowers. Odile and Onakie relished collecting the seeds for their evening meal. When she lived in Finis, Onakie would eat a bag of sunflower seeds a day and passed that passion on to Odile.

Requiring more meat for his diet, Frost went hunting. He returned hours later with a hare he claimed to have chased into submission. He looked exhausted enough for it to be true, and the group wasn’t in the mind to turn down additional protein.

“Tomorrow we’ll be at the river, day after we’ll arrive at Spiral City.” Onakie speculated after they had settled into camp for the night.

“You said you have friends there, who are they?” Vedek asked.

She grimaced at the horizon. “Minotaurs. Friends from Finis. They came with the migration, part of the new ‘Tauren Row’ in Spiral City. I hope they’re keeping strong. I left Finis long before they turned on the minotaur reservations, before the Order of Suffering even existed. Some --most-- of my friends in Spiral City fought in the resistance. In the last letter I received from Spiral City it said they were facing mounting harassment.”

“You’re worried about endangering Odile” Vedek said. Minotaurs were a race Vedek devoted little thought to outside of as a vague fringe threat. They had no formal nation, no representative on the Council of Sovereigns. His cultural lessons didn’t include races like minotaurs, goblins, or even wechers and orcs.

This thought caused Vedek to make a guilty check on his companions. Frost furrowed his brow at his own hands, something he had been doing frequently since their flight from Sráid. When Vedek’s eyes shifted to Azeroth he was unsettled to see the orc looking right at him. Perhaps it was something else, but he would swear Azeroth shook his head slightly before turning his attention elsewhere.

“I can handle it.” Called Odile from her place in the camp. She had chosen a small hill that faced the direction of Spiral City. Earlier she had asked for a moment alone, hence her distance from the others. She held her knees tight against her chest and had her ears turned towards the discussion. “I’ll be strong for as long as needed until we return to Sráid.”

“You did a brave thing today. It must have been hard to surrender that dress.” Vedek called to Odile. She kept her back to them. She had been distant for much of their journey. Her negotiation with Námguz had been the most she had spoken in one conversation.

Frost scowled in the direction of Námguz’s ranch. “I still think that man was cruel for walling off that pond. What can be gained by denying people necessary water?”

“Money...and dresses.” Azeroth dropped to his back with his hands beneath his head. Their fire had been meager due to limited wood and was already dying. Azeroth had no night vision. To him, their faces must have appeared shadowed and nondescript.

Frost said nothing in response. Once more, he focused on his hands, clenching and unclenching them. He had been disturbed by Fellior’s murder, being less robust than his usual manner. It was difficult for Vedek to guess why. Azeroth had been blamed for the murder, Odile lost her father, Onakie her king, and Vedek his one connection to Fae’Riam. What connection did Frost have, other than the tragedy of being present when it happened?

It wasn’t long till Frost waded into the tall grass to make his bedding for the night. Azeroth fell asleep fast, as he always did. Only Onakie and Vedek remained, both lacking anything to say. They took turns checking on Odile, who kept herself isolated. The hope was they would soon see her small frame collapse into a sleeping position. She hadn’t protested to sleeping in the dirt. Perhaps she had grown used to it in captivity.

Vedek heard the sobs first. Odile tried to mask them as a cough, but he heard it plainly. Onakie didn’t have an elden’s ears. She did not know something was wrong until Vedek touched her arm. In moments Onakie was beside Odile, a hulking frame set gently adjacent to a small waifish one.

“Thinking about your father again?” Onakie asked. Vedek tried to turn his ears away, but their conversation was the only sounds for miles and he was still wide awake.

“I wish I was crying over something like that, something important.” Odile wiped her eyes to downplay how watery they were. “My father is dead, his murder placed on an innocent man who was there because of me. My guards turned on my Keeper. Sráid is no doubt under the manipulation of Kelmin. I am crying over none of those things. I’m crying over something small. Something stupid…”

“The dress you sold.” Onakie said calmly. Her words caused Odile to cry once more.

“It was the right thing to do.” Odile assured herself. “There wasn’t anything special about it, I have dozens of dresses back home, but when I think about giving it up…” She was quiet for a moment. Vedek chanced a look at the pair. The small elden girl and the minotauress set against the waning light. A mound adjacent to a mountain.

“It’s so childish of me.” Odile finished her thought. Onakie moved slowly, removing sections of her remaining armor until her arms were exposed. She placed her hand firmly on Odile’s head. Her large fingers hung off the sides of the girl’s head.

“Do you remember what I once told you? You are allowed to be a child until your head no longer fits in the palm of my hand. It seems you still have some growing to do, and until then you are allowed to be as childish as you feel.”

“My father is dead Onakie!” Odile snapped. She shoved the big hand away. She spoke so loud Vedek thought she might wake Azeroth and Frost. “I have to mature now! I can’t be crying over dresses, or playing games, or doing anything other than being the ruler my people need. I let Kelmin escape with so much. If I had been more aggressive, more stern, maybe my father would be alive. At least now I know...”

Onakie replaced her hand on Odile’s head, firmer this time. She tilted Odile’s face to look at her. “What do you know now? That aggression is the key to life?”

She removed her hand, sighing powerfully as she did. “I want you to promise me something small one: Don’t let you’re heart be ruined by hardship. Don’t let what’s happened destroy the sweet child who loves to lie in wildflowers and always gives kindness to those who need it most.”

Odile was speechless. Onakie sighed again. Her head dipped pensively downward. “There are people who will tell you that the world is cruel, and to survive you must take the pain it gives you and become cruel yourself. These people are wrong. They have to be.”

She touched the blunt end of her missing horn. “I told you how I lost this horn? I did not tell you everything. The men who did this to me...they took so much more, and I let my heart become a stone in response. I convinced myself that what had happened had been good for me. ‘This is strength,’ I told myself, ‘this is empowerment. Now I know what it takes to survive.’”

She returned her eyes to Odile. It was so much darker now, but Vedek caught a glimpse of her blue eyes shimmering. Both had forgotten that he was nearby. “It was not till I came into the service of your father, and met you, that I realized how wrong I had been. Becoming cruel to meet a cruel world? That’s how they think. The easy way out. Empowerment, true empowerment, comes from taking cruelty and letting it wash over you like a cold wind, then finding your warmth once it has passed.”

Onakie next removed her leather vest. She pulled Odile into a close hug. The girl’s face was lost in the thick hair, but she reciprocated. “Promise me Odile Leahbru Beannaithe Ruaidrí, on the crossing soul of your father, promise me you won’t make the same mistake I did.”

Vedek could not hear the child’s response, for it was muffled in Onakie’s embrace, but it sounded like a confirmation.