‘I was wondering if I would find you here,’ Io said calmly, stepping one one of the creaking wooden boards that made up the floor near the entrance of the barracks. The building’s sole occupant turned to face her with turbulent eyes. ‘I’m surprised you still have the energy to pace nervously. Should I go find Russell, see if he’s up for another round?’
“That will be unnecessary. And such is the fate of those who must choose a path for others,” Antoth replied, turning to face her. He stood in the opposite doorway, where he’d been looking out over the deserted training grounds. “Enjoyable as it was getting in the ring this morning, I must think now. It has never been my strong suit. Where is the human leader, Natori?”
‘We decided to part ways for a few hours. I believe he’s still at the village square,’ Io replied without concern, taking a few steps closer to Antoth. ‘So the others are not budging, are they? You’ll break the stalemate?’
“So it would seem. No they are not, spirit Io. But that is to be expected. Ratha is a female of conviction, and she will never consent to abandoning our home. Staroth and Nerazek are good priests and friends, but if either of them changes their mind they become the priest that sets us all on a destiny that cannot be undone. They will be able to use the festival as cover, not that I blame them. If things go according to Natori’s schedule, you will all be gone before they can think things over.”
‘And so here you are in your old office trying to decide the fate of your people,’ Io concluded, coming to stand next to him and lean against the wooden doorframe. ‘I am glad that I got to experience this planet in the flesh before leaving. When it’s not under attack, your village is a soothing place.’
“Heh, thank you,” Antoth laughed humorlessly. “I don’t suppose you know the answer to my conundrum, whether or not to abandon this ‘soothing’ place.”
‘All I can give you is my opinion,’ Io replied with confidence.
“And what would that be?” the high priest wondered when the answer was not immediately forthcoming. Io shrugged her shoulders slightly.
‘That it would be a waste for your people to remain here, toiling away in the forest when you could join us among the stars. But I am not so foolish as to think that my perspective is universally correct. If you remain here your people will face the same struggles, problems, and hardships you are accustomed to. If you come with us you will face a whole new set of challenges, known and unknown, but you will be given much more powerful tools to solve them. All of your people have known hardship and struggle, Antoth. They will be capable of rising to that challenge. If anything, the struggle facing your grandchildren will be the preservation of that hardened resolve in the face of technological decadence in a world of relative safety and plenty. In short, I would convince your people to leave and figure the rest out later. But as I said, that is just me,’ Io concluded, glancing at the distant treeline above and beyond the top of the palisade. ‘Life is simpler when you live behind walls like that though, I’ll admit. Russell has found much joy in it, but only because we were able to survive it.’
“I understand,” Antoth replied gruffly. “That is… not as helpful as I would have hoped, but I suppose that even you cannot see the future. No matter how long I think of it, I can only see disaster in the end no matter what I do. Uthos preserve us.”
‘You really aren’t cut out to be Priest of Seil, are you?’ Io chuckled, a smile on her face. Antoth turned his head her way and gave her a tired look.
“Do you see anyone else volunteering?”
‘Other than Vash’s barely of age son?’ Io asked flippantly. ‘No, sorry. I’m fresh out of suitable candidates. But doing nothing is also a decision, Antoth. I don’t know what will happen, but at least they will be hardships your people are familiar with. While Natori was not lying to you all about the remote threat of the Ghaelen, I really do not think any of them will be bothered to meddle with some backwater village far out along the galactic arm. But we probably will not return either, at least not anytime soon. That was why I figured I might try to find you after you disappeared. Something compels me rather strongly to say goodbye to you as a friend, which I don’t really know how to do.’
“You act as though I have already decided, spirit Io,” Antoth muttered seriously, arms crossed against his chest. It was hard to tell under all of the fur, but she thought he was holding himself more rigidly than usual, perhaps on account of bruising from that morning. “I have not.”
‘I know, but even so,’ Io sighed. He glanced her way.
“You’ll forgive me, but you don’t seem to be having difficulty with such things.”
‘Well that’s nice to know. It’s all on the inside then. You could call it the price of being a spirit, I suppose. Sometimes there are mortal considerations that elude me.’
“I see, but I’m not sure that I understand,” Antoth allowed. “It is a difficult decision. I would miss you and Winters greatly, but I cannot consider such things against the future of my people.”
‘Aww, I’d miss you too,’ Io exclaimed quietly, stepping towards him and hugging him tightly. Antoth stood ramrod straight, but her grip was hardly an imposition.
“Spirit Io, I regret to inform you that I am already happily mated,” he muttered. She chuckled briefly.
‘I know, I know. And I would sooner face down an ursae again than attempt to come between you and Ratha, but I am quite certain that this form of hug is acceptable between friends and comrades. It is a manner of showing affection that is platonic instead of romantic in nature. The key element is the arm over the shoulder, I believe.’
“I see,” the Cauthan responded, reciprocating the motion. Io sighed happily.
‘Your fur is coarser than Veera’s.’
“I should hope so. I am a male after all,” Antoth said, letting her go. “I’m sorry that I cannot assure you one way or another.”
‘It’s quite alright, Antoth. This is why we have treaties and documents instead of relying on personal feelings. It would just feel like such a waste to leave you and your people here, to have your story end so abruptly.’
“Humans reached the stars on their own, as I understand it. The Cauthan will do so as well,” Antoth replied with some confidence and pride.
‘Of that I have no doubt,’ Io agreed. ‘But that does not mean it will be you or your people, your descendents, who achieve that feat.’
Antoth moved from the doorway, walking slowly towards the desk that had been his companion for many years as the high priest of Uthos. “The weak are food for the strong, is that it?”
‘Your people are very much like humanity, which is reassuring in many ways. But in moments such as this,’ Io lamented. ‘Yes, humans reached the stars. Such accomplishments require great resources, land, manpower, education, food, material wealth, and so on. In order to command all such things towards a common purpose, nations were built. They often conquered or assimilated small populations like your own village. Nothing is set in stone, but it is something I think about.’
“I understand. It is something I will also consider,” Antoth told her, running a claw along the grain of the desk.
‘Then I will let you think, lest you remain here until you are required in the village square to light this evening’s bonfire. No matter what you decide Antoth, your people will be in good hands, or paws. Whichever you prefer.’
“That is kind of you to say, spirit Io. Until then, please enjoy the festival. I will return shortly,” he said, listening as Io left the far doorway and walked the length of the building to the front entrance, with the road and festival beyond. When she was gone he contemplated his own hands. “Yes, perhaps they will be. But how many years do I have left?”
-----
“Is this seat taken, or may I join you for a time?” Natori asked, standing before Thantis and Gentia as the two elderly priests watched the festival unfold from the comfort of one of the fireside benches. Around them a handful of families were beginning preparations for the evening’s potlucks, hauling out their largest cooking pots and gathering up food, firewood, and seating.
“You may join us of course, if you don’t mind spending your time with the old and tired,” Gentia said, sounding neither old nor tired. She motioned to the open space next to her, and Natori bowed politely to them both. He waved and smiled at Thantis as he took his seat.
“You have my thanks, Gentia. How are the two of you? Doing well since we last spoke, I hope?” the Admiral asked.
“Very well indeed. This is a time of celebration and new beginnings,” Thantis said. “And for us it marks yet another year.”
“I hope I look as good as the two of you when I reach your age, and that my wife still finds me tolerable,” Natori joked, casually taking in some warmth from the nearby fire. “Have there been any incidents involving my crew?”
“If there had been you would certainly know, and from someone other than us,” Gentia assured the man. Natori hummed approvingly.
“Good, good. I’m sure many of them are enjoying the experience immensely. How did this tradition start, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“That is a question for you, my dear,” Gentia observed, squeezing Thantis’ hand gently. The death priest gave her an affectionate look.
“Even so, that doesn’t mean that I know the answer. It is a custom that has existed as long as our people have an oral history, long before our flight from the coastal kingdom to find our own land out here in the forests of Mara. We have always given thanks to Meylith and rejoiced in the harvest.”
Natori hummed at the short description. “I see, I see. Thank you all the same. So what else should I look forward to over the next couple of days? I have been warned by Io that I am not to participate in the first dance of the evening.”
“Ha, yes that would send the wrong message to be sure,” Gentia agreed. “That moment is for the new couples among the village, that we may all witness them and their budding commitment to one another. Afterwards you may partake as much or as little as you like.”
“Duly noted! Anything else?” Natori wondered.
“Much of what there is to enjoy at the festival can be taken in at any time, be it food or drink or contests. Tomorrow there will be a quick jaunt around the village and another dance in the evening. But that is all,” Thantis explained.
“Thank you both. I shall have to do some stretching before tomorrow then. Is there anything that I can answer for the two of you in turn, so long as I am here?” the human asked politely.
“If you are referring to the decision that faces us as a people, I think not,” Gentia told him. “Regardless of your position you are an interested party. And it is now for us to decide alone.”
“Of course,” he deferred politely. “In that case I shall enjoy a bit of people watching. I don’t mind telling you that my job allows for very little opportunity to do something so… unproductive.”
“Well if you would like to feel productive, could you help me with this?” Thantis requested, procuring the tablet that he kept almost constantly at his side. “I believe I am getting the hang of these… what are they, folders? But sometimes I forget where I put something and it takes the better part of an afternoon to find it again. It is quite exasperating when I find myself craving a specific brew of tea.”
“If I may?” Natori requested, reaching across Gentia to take the tablet from Thantis. The priestess stood and motioned for her husband to scooch over, planting herself on his other side so as to be unmolested during the impromptu tech support session. “Mmm, yes I see. There is no way to input your runes directly. Here, in this search bar press once and then this icon here. When it makes a noise, speak what you would like to find and it will search for it. Given that these audio files all have names in your script already, I’m sure you are familiar with the recording function. Io’s translation program seems to be working nicely.”
Thantis was eager as ever to play around with the device, and so he followed Natori’s instructions, saying the word ‘tea’ after the chime. A list of files was populated one by one that contained the word either in the title or as part of the file itself. “Marvelous! Thank you, Natori.”
“It’s my pleasure,” the human replied as Gentia shook her feathers.
“And now he will organize and reorganize his scrolls for the better part of the day,” Gentia remarked passive aggressively. Thantis, whose finger was hovering over the screen, seemed to think better of it and stored the device away. She smiled with satisfaction. “But he’s always been a good listener.”
“It is part of the job, my dear,” Thantis replied. “I would not miss a festival just to move scrolls about. But tea is another matter, especially with dinner on its way. Would you like to join us, Natori?”
“I regretfully have nothing to bring to such an occasion, but if that is not a problem then I happily accept the invitation,” he said. Gentia waved the concerns away.
“There will be enough food to feed one more mouth. I have made sure of that. If you wish to dine elsewhere, however, I would advise you to make arrangements sooner rather than later. There tends to be a bit of a scramble by the time the sky begins to turn colors.”
“I cannot imagine better company. Thank you for the invitation,” Natori repeated. “If I can help in any way do let me know.”
“I can think of a pot that might need carrying a bit later,” Gentia immediately put forth. “But we can worry about that when the hunger begins to set in. For now, tell us a little about yourself. You have kept your personal history rather close to the chest since we’ve met.”
Natori appeared both flattered and excited to have the opportunity to speak about himself. “Not intentionally, I assure you. Despite appearances I am actually a busy man more often than not, and when I’ve had the pleasure of visiting your village it has been on official business. What would you like to know? As it stands your question is a bit open ended.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Gentia’s ears moved slightly during the translation and she hummed briefly before replying. “Yes I suppose we could do without the life story. I don’t think any of us are that remarkable. But what of this group of humans you brought to our world? How did you become their leader? What made you desire to do so? My conversations with Alice and the young male from your ship lead me to believe that humans are mostly able to choose their profession or walk of life.”
Natori rubbed his chin thoughtfully, bobbing his head back and forth as he debated the accuracy of the statement. “I suppose you could say that, yes. It would be more correct to say that humans can choose how to develop themselves, what sort of education and skills they wish to pursue. When it comes time for them to choose a job, if you will, most of them find one that relies upon those skills. There are always exceptions of course. Anyone with a suitable history can join our armed forces. Leadership is another matter, however. Wanting it is usually necessary, but not sufficient.”
“That goes without saying,” Thantis spoke up. “Woe betide a people who appoint only those who want power.”
“Ah, poor Antoth,” Gentia chuckled. “So, Natori? What was it for you?”
“I sense that this conversation will be relayed back to the other high priests, so let me choose my words carefully,” Natori smiled. “Yes well, I suppose that before we were found by the Ghaelen I did not consider myself a leader, nor did I aspire to be one. I was an aerospace engineer, usually working on a team with other humans who shared my level and specialization of education. More often than not our orders came from politicians or military leaders who were financing the ships and craft that we had the know-how to design and build. Of course, when we realized we were not alone in the universe all of that changed.”
“How so?” the priestess wondered.
“If we were to leave aside the duty you have to your people for a moment, and it were just your own wishes taken into consideration, would either of you wish to see the human homeworld before you pass on? Maybe one of our colonies? Or even just another planet or moon somewhere out there,” Natori asked, sweeping a hand towards the sky. “Thantis, my friend, I think I already know your answer.”
“But of course I would!” the death priest insisted anyway. “Even our little trip to find water in Kel’s domain was full of wonders. I do miss that laser thing.”
The look on Gentia’s face made it clear that she too was well aware of Thantis’ desire to be back aboard the Event Horizon in some capacity. “Oh how many times have I heard of this little voyage of yours? Well, I suppose if it were just me then I would go along too. After our decades here it would be nice to see something new before we die.”
“A capital sentiment,” Natori agreed animatedly. “That was the question that I needed to answer for myself when humanity was uplifted and given the ability to travel the stars in weeks or months instead of multiple lifetimes. Before then I had contented myself knowing that I might or might not ever leave my home planet. If I was exceptionally lucky I might have walked on our planet’s moon before my passing. That was to be the role of my generation, yet another stepping stone on the path to the stars, shoulders for others to stand upon. And then things changed. Fields of learning that had been slowly built up for centuries were completely upended, revolutionized, or made obsolete. Human systems of government needed to be reorganized. And in the midst of it all I realized that if I was very skilled and very lucky, I could travel the stars before my death.”
“I’d say it’s quite obvious you succeeded,” Gentia observed. “But why are you the one in command of your ship, as opposed to your crew?”
Natori smiled thoughtfully, reflecting on many years of work. “Probably equal parts love and selfishness, along with respect for someone very important in my life. It took thousands of humans to make the Event Horizon a reality, but she was and remains my brainchild, my baby if you will. I could not stand the idea of another man taking her on her maiden voyage. That is the selfishness of which I spoke. I was lucky enough to find a mentor who agreed with me for his own reasons, a man who wanted to see people like me attain some amount of power and influence within the ranks of humanity’s interstellar military. With his help I entered an officer training program typically reserved for soldiers like Lieutenant Winters. By the time the Event Horizon was constructed, I had risen through the ranks and Beta Division was given its own little batch of soldiers, all of whom are aboard my ship. I wish I could say that my desire to lead was to do all of them proud or something noble like that. They are my duty, which I hold in utmost priority. But if I have blazed a trail for others to follow, it was for my own reasons. That I am here speaking with the two of you confirms that I have succeeded… I’m sorry, that was quite long-winded and overly dramatic, wasn’t it?” he asked suddenly.
“Only a little,” Gentia tittered. “But I did ask the question. Your explanation was very insightful. Thank you for sharing with us.”
Thantis, on the other hand, seemed eager for more tales. The death priest pressed the necessary places on the screen of the tablet to save the audio file of Natori’s voice to a folder for items related to humans. “Selfishness can serve the Balance just as much as selflessness. Either in excess is a curse. Those who are unbalanced within will find it hard to serve the Balance around them.”
“If your people decide to join us on our return trip to Earth, remind me to introduce you to the works of an ancient human philosopher known as Aristotle,” Natori suggested, reaching for the pile of firewood that was conveniently situated next to their bench. “May I?”
“Of course, the flames are burning a little low for my liking,” Gentia encouraged him.
“Ah, that’s wonderful,” Thantis remarked as his old joints were warmed by the extra heat. “So who is this Aristotle you spoke of?”
“One of many humans whose intellectual works were both recorded and deemed exceptional or influential enough to preserve through the centuries. He hailed from a people known as the Greeks, and was a philosopher. Among other things, he ruminated on the nature of morality and how a man should conduct himself in order to live an upstanding or moral life. I am skipping over far too much for the sake of brevity, but his conclusion was similar to what you just said, Thantis, that men of morality are tempered in their behavior, avoiding excess in either direction. I find it to be a rather simple and inoffensive conclusion.”
“He sounds like he would have made a fine priest of Kel,” Thantis replied approvingly. He and Gentia looked at Natori as the Admiral suddenly stood, towering over them and all of the other Cauthan at the festival. “Is something the matter?”
“No, not at all. I was just struck by a thought that I would like to run by Antoth, sooner rather than later. If you would excuse my abrupt departure, we can speak again at dinner?”
“As you wish; go on then. We survived dozens of festivals without any humans to talk to,” Gentia joked, waving him along. She leaned over to whisper to her mate when they were sure he was out of earshot. “He is a rather strange man.”
“But very open about his motivations. I like him,” Thantis concluded. Gentia took his hand in hers and sighed quietly.
“Of course you do, my dear.”
-----
“Thank you for today, Lachlan. You should enjoy the rest of the festival. I believe Antoth will be lighting the bonfire in a few moments,” Sentaura told him. The two were standing at the edge of the village square, at the head of the road that led back to Sentaura’s modest home. Ursol was passed out in her arms, having fallen into an exhausted sleep shortly after an early dinner. “You should not have allowed him to win at archery though. I do not think I’ll ever hear the end of it.”
“My apologies, mum. But I’ve actually ne’er shot a bow before,” the Scotsman admitted. “It was a closer thing than ye might imagine.”
“I suppose you have no need for such things any longer,” Sentaura replied. “He enjoyed it though, so again you have my thanks. You should take in the rest of the festival tonight. There will always be more of them for me.”
Lachlan’s lips drew into a thin line but he nodded, knowing there would be no point in having out such a conversation yet again. “I’ll do that, mum. Dependin’ on how things go I might end up on the Event Horizon tonight. If so I’ll meet ye and the little tyke tomorrow mornin’.”
“Very well. I will see you tomorrow in either case. Goodnight, Lachlan,” she bade farewell, ruffling her feathers silently for a moment before breaking their gaze and walking off into the night. The Marine watched them go for a few seconds, smiling at Ursol’s sleeping form as the young lad’s arm dangled over his mother’s shoulder.
When they turned a corner and passed out of view, Lachlan surveyed the festival grounds instead. The place was dotted with a few dozen cooking fires, distributed with remarkable evenness around the entire area save for a large, dark circle in the southern quarter of the plaza that featured the ursae skull and the unlit bonfire that would serve as the centerpiece for the first dance of the year. With most of the villagers eating or chatting around the fires it was easy for him to maneuver his way through the crowds, eventually arriving at Russell and Veera’s fire, which also featured Io, Alice, and Anita. “Room fer one more?” he asked. Alice waved animatedly at him, and he received a nod from her brother.
“Sure, come join us!” Alice insisted, scooching a bit so that there was room for him to be seated at the end of her bench. “Were you with Sentaura?”
“Aye. The wee laddie had a bit too much fun, so it was an early dinner and bedtime for him,” Lachlan reported, accepting an empty bowl from Veera that he could use to cool morsels from the slowly boiling pot before eating. “Thank ye kindly, mum. Did ye have a good day?”
“That’s kind of you to ask. We did,” Veera replied, patting Russell on the leg. “Once my husband got everything out of his system this morning it was quite relaxing and uneventful. Not that I didn’t enjoy watching you fight, dear.”
“That’s not how I’d describe it, but I wasn’t there so,” Alice cut in. Her brother shrugged and grunted dismissively.
“Those guys are still blasted about getting their asses handed to them. At least their Corporal can take a joke and realize I’m not blowing them off. I’m just not bothering with them in front of the village,” Russell declared. Alice filled Lachlan in on the details.
“Rex challenged him to a fight earlier, made a bit of a scene out of it. Russell turned him flat down. He looked like he was about to go off when Kaha swaggered up and challenged him in turn. He eventually agreed after learning Kaha had also lost to my brother.”
“He’s only doing it because his commanding officer ordered him to,” Russell insisted calmly. “But it’s a good thing in the end, especially if he loses again.”
“If the three of you end up destroying the ship on the way home I’m going to be steamed. You’re not in high school anymore, Russell!” Alice insisted hotly.
“Yeah well, they started it man,” the younger Winters pointed out. Alice rolled her eyes.
“Why do I even bother?”
“It would be a misuse of the arena to have two humans fight during the festival. It is for displaying one’s prowess as a male and potential mate, not for betting on aliens,” Veera declared haughtily. “I’m sure you can beat them up later.”
“With someone officiating. If they try another hallway brawl I’m going to put them out for good,” Russell warned, only to have Veera stick her claw into his ear. “Ow! Damnit woman!”
“If you would leave your bloodlust aside so we can enjoy our first festival together as parents that would be very much appreciated!” she laid out in no uncertain terms. Russell took a bite of stewed chesko and nodded.
“Noted. Sorry, love.”
“I will never get bored of seeing that,” Alice whispered to Lachlan. He nodded quietly before engaging Anita in conversation.
“And how was yer day, lassie? Learn anythin’ more about their plants?”
“No, not much,” Anita replied pleasantly. “I wandered around a lot, spent some time at the river outside of town. It’s very tranquil. Xan was a nice tour guide, but I feel bad for monopolizing him. He didn’t seem to want to spend much time in the village though.”
“Given that he was fighting in the ring last year, I’m sure he’s not feeling too great about hobbling around. It’s understandable,” Winters told her. “If anything, he may have been thankful for an excuse to not hang around watching Eris and the other girls fight and pick over the guys.”
“It is definitely an interesting year,” Veera agreed, leaning forward slightly to tend to the pot. “I wonder if any older couples will follow Antoth and Ratha’s lead. Maybe they will wait for tomorrow to make themselves known to the village.”
“Do you really think that Xan will be alright?” Anita asked hesitantly. Veera nodded without hesitation, her feathers waving slowly as a handful of sparks lept towards the sky.
“Oh yes, he will be. This year the females will have to get used to the fact that they outnumber the males. Some of them will hold out I’m sure. One year single would be better than shacking up with an older male or something. But when next year rolls around and little changes, they will look at him differently. I’m sure that what’s between his legs still works just fine, and while he may not be physically capable that doesn’t matter so much when you’re a priest. One of them will figure it out. I thought you might be interested though, Anita.”
“No no no!” she gasped in embarrassment as Alice patted her leg just above the knee. “I don’t… I know that your people don’t really date or anything and I’m not ready to give up the ability to have kids just yet.”
“Hmm? But Russell and I have-”
“It doesn’t work the other way around,” Russell cut in, glancing up at her as he rested forward on his knees. “Human women can’t do what you pulled off this summer. Xan enjoys joking about getting with a human and all that, but he’s not ready to give up any possibility of being a dad I don’t think. We’ll see.”
“Hmmm, that’s curious,” Veera replied before moving the conversation along. “What about you, Alice? Did you have a nice time? I feel like I didn’t see you much.”
“Oh yes, thank you. I was just trying to document everything, talk to people, take pictures, that sort of stuff. Having Alyra showing me around definitely helped. It might seem mundane to you Veera, but this is a dream come true for someone like me; even if I did spend a good chunk of the morning painting claws with nail polish.”
“I think they looked a bit silly, but it’s undoubtedly flashy,” Veera gave her opinion on the application of human fashion. “Our claws are too big.”
‘Spoken like a woman who already has a mate,’ Io chuckled. ‘You said it yourself, Veera. They are competing now. Maybe the boys are just doing it all for fun.’
“I can think of two boys in particular who fit that bill,” Veera agreed, stretching her arms above her head. “But I suppose that’s fair. This certainly doesn’t happen often. Did you have a good time, Io?”
‘I did indeed. You need not worry about me Veera. This isn’t my first festival after all. Though I will say that dodging was a slight challenge for a while. You’d be surprised how many calculations are necessary to mimic the innate human or Cauthan ability to mill around in large crowds and not bump into one another constantly. Alice, I’m sure we will have plenty of time to compare notes later.’
“Oh yeah, no worries. There’s a second day after all,” she replied. “And with four to six months on the way back? I’d say that’s plenty of time to review and put together a paper or two.”
‘I have not forgotten the concerns of the doctoral candidate,’ Io assured her, holding out a hand and flexing her fingers. 'I will have my hands full with biomechanics and prosthetics, so the Cauthan are all yours.'
"Haha," Russell laughed dully, giving her a clap or two and a grin.
'Uh… can I help you, sir?' Io asked in confusion.
"Thought that was intentional. You know, hands full, prosthetics?" he explained. "Figured you of all people would be on top of the bad pun game."
‘Well, the ‘mothership’ is out of range and being alive is tasking me more or less to capacity. The puns will be inadvertent… and hopefully rare,’ she explained self-consciously.
“It’s fine, Io. Wasn’t trying to get under your skin or anything. And that’s not a pun either. How’s the body holding up? Any accidents?” he wondered. Io, who’d allowed her hair down earlier in the day, flipped it over her shoulder and glared at him.
‘It’s not like I’m living in your armor anymore, sir! You can’t just run diagnostics on me. If there were issues short of major or dangerous malfunctions I certainly would not tell you, especially in public!’
“Well ok then, moving right along,” he said quickly. “Anyone else do something fun today?”
“That will have to wait,” Veera insisted, leaning over to ensure he heard her as a light rumbling of conversation passed through the village square. Antoth had mounted the wooden platform in the center of the festival grounds, torch in hand. Vash’s address from the stairs of his temple had certainly been commanding in terms of backdrop, but Antoth needed no such assistance, even from an ursae skull. Russell, Veera, and Io, who were on the bench facing away, turned around so that they could watch him speak. Alice, meanwhile, made sure she was ready to record the event.
The chatter among the townsfolk took a short while to die down to silence, but Antoth didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he relished the delay. When he could stall no longer, the high priest cleared his throat and spoke to his people. “And so night falls upon the first day of our harvest festival. Other than losing bets on my fight, I hope that you all found cause to enjoy yourselves today.”
A few ‘Bronx cheers’ came from around the cooking fires, but he took them in good faith as intended. “Good, good. There is no shame in setting aside a moment to recreate and relax, to temporarily put off the responsibilities we all face. Tonight however, a handful of our number will step forward to accept a new mantle of responsibility in the sight of Seil and all the gods. There is no greater calling among our people than giving life to and raising the next generation, even for me. There is no other time in living memory that this burden has weighed heavier on all of us than this year. To those of you who have shed your youth to accept this great challenge, today or tomorrow, this first moment is for you and you alone. Cherish it.”
“How utterly fascinating and terrifying,” Alice whispered as Antoth took a pause to collect his breath and thoughts. “Not even the worst human in-laws could come close to that.”
“You don’t know many Indian parents then, Alice,” Anita joked dryly before the high priest spoke again.
“To the rest of you, as high priest and more importantly a fellow citizen of this humble village, I urge you to give them your blessings, your support, and your knowledge as they embark upon this journey. And I would ask that the second song this night be reserved for those who are expecting, as well as their mates. They too have risen to help preserve our people, and they deserve our thanks as well. May the gods watch over us all, and may Seil and the Mother bless us with a new generation.”
A few Cauthan looked at one another questioningly, wondering if Antoth’s abrupt statement signified the end of his speech. The answer was made clear as the black-furred Cauthan descended from the platform and walked towards the yet unlit bonfire that stood easily nine feet high. Without ceremony he threw the torch down at the base of the wood and stood back as the dry blaze crackled to life, drawing calls of excitement and awe from the crowd as the center of the festival grounds was suddenly bathed in light. Antoth nodded to the small group of Cauthan musicians who had taken their place just in front of the skull, raising his hand. “You may begin.”