Soren left the kitchen and crossed the back room to where Louis used to sleep. She knew the room well as she’d often snuck in when her brother was gone. She'd look through his things and wonder at the small tokens he used to keep. She rifled through his chest of clothes now and found a pair of old trousers and a worn shirt that he'd kept as spares. She quickly changed and met her mother outside. Without speaking the two turned to the north and followed the small trail to where the larger dirt path led to Cottonwood.
As they walked, Soren continued to look over her shoulder. On more than one occasion she thought she heard a strange laugh on the wind. Yet whenever she paused to listen, she heard nothing. The thought of spending the new year in Cottonwood didn’t excite her nearly as much as she’d thought it would. There was a lethargy inside her that belonged to someone much older.. As the large greenish hues of Ahura set and the world was washed in the deep reds of Ahriman, Soren saw the lights of Cottonwood begin to war with the coming darkness. A wind kicked up behind them, blowing in from the south with a strange electric tinge. It was the storm that raged every night without a drop of rain. Soren looked behind her and was surprised to see the coming storm. ‘Hadn’t the sky been clear just an hour ago?’ She thought.
As they approached town, Soren saw the lights of the troupe set up on the outskirts. Tucks once asked a different troupe of traveling entertainers why they stayed outside. To their surprise, the Troubadour indulged them. Once long ago, it had been a longstanding tradition to bar any troupe from spending the night in a city, town, provincial capital or village. The result of hundreds of years of stigma towards Troubadours, and travelers in general. Central did not have a long history of hospitality. It didn’t take long however for the actors to take advantage of the tradition. “We learned to take full advantage of all the night has to offer.” He had said with a wink. Now, no self-respecting actor in Central would spend the night in any town save their own. Even actors have to hang their feathered hats somewhere the actor had said. The cost of a troubadour’s travel, training, room and board were usually paid by wealthy families or empires. In return, the traveling troupes ensured these families were never seen in anything but the most gallant of lights.
Many of the very wealthy lineages had multiple troupes of actors. These troupes were said to circumvent one another. Sometimes traveling great distances in the hopes of avoiding skirmishes in the names of their patron families. As many troupes were often distant relatives, clashes between rival family troupes could result in cousin fighting cousin. Soren had been surprised to learn most actors saw such violence. Even lowly troubadours, had a story or two of violent clashes. The Troubadour war, one of the worst conflicts in modern memory had been started from just such a ‘skirmish’. Eventually, Tucks had managed to get a word in to tell the actor “thank you” and dragged Soren away. She'd never forgotten the allure of being a travelling actor. It had sounded so wonderful to her, even then.
As Soren and her mother passed by the troupes camp, Soren took note of the painted symbol on their wagons sides. A rose encircled by a small diamond shape. This diamond was set within another diamond set at an angle which was also set within another diamond, and another atop that. The edges of each inner diamond were connected with dripping lines to the diamond encircling it. It gave the impression of falling down a spiraling tunnel, into the rose. Something about the symbol made Soren shudder and she quickened her step as they past the wagons. She heard the low voices that came from inside the ring of wagons and saw the flicker of firelight from under the carriages. Though Soren couldn’t make out any of the words, the tones seemed hearty and the fire warm and inviting. She could occasionally hear short barks of laughter from inside the camp and wondered again at such a life. She turned to look at her mother whose gaze was firmly fixed on the road ahead,
“Mama, what’s the symbol on the side of the wagons?” Soren asked,
“That is the symbol of House Tobas.”
“House Tobas?” Soren asked, she had never heard the name before.
“A family far to the northeast. Along the coast.” Yalina said in a hushed voice. She was quiet as they passed the closest wagon then continued,
“They don’t often come this far south. But they're one of the wealthier families in Central if not all Meridian."
"And this is their troupe?"
"They probably have a couple. Traveling all over Central. I’ve never seen this one.”
As they passed the first structures of Cottonwood, Soren could hear raucous laughter further ahead. It was much different than the laughter behind them. She was no stranger to Cottonwood, she'd made the trip into town many times. Each of those however had been with both her father and brother and never at night. Now as she walked with her mother, Soren felt a dull sense of fear, tinged with not a small amount of excitement. They crossed the dirty street, somewhere off in the distance a bottle smashed and she felt her mother flinch at the sound. They hurried their pace and soon found themselves at the front door of Dr. Hayes house.
Soren’s mother clasped the door knocker with both hands and clanged the thing louder than Soren thought necessary. It took only a moment before Mrs. Hayes, old and arthritic opened the door.
“Hello?” she said in a shaky confused voice.
“Mrs. Hayes?” Soren’s mother asked politely before continuing,
“Sorry if we woke you, this is my daughter Soren who I told you about this morning. we just made it to town.” Yalina spoke in a very loud voice and Soren was initially startled at the volume. Though her mother bent towards her and whispered,
“You’ll have to speak loudly, Mrs. Hayes is nearly deaf.” Soren looked into Mrs. Hayes graying eyes and loudly said,
“Good evening Mrs. Hayes, my name is Soren Pickett”
“Oh-kay” was Mrs. Hayes only reply. Soren glanced up at her mother unsure what to do next. Yalina again said in a loud voice,
“May we come in?” to which Mrs. Hayes shuffled back mumbling,
“oh, oh-kay. No need to shout.”
“Thank you!” Soren’s mother said loudly, clearly not hearing Mrs. Hayes grumbles. The two made their way into the house. As Soren stepped through the doorway, she wondered at the size of the house. In front of her stood two stairways curving upward opposite one another. They crossed and curved again ascending to the second floor. The wood of the stairs was lacquered a dark mahogany as was the rest of the floor in front of her. Between the two staircases was a marble statue of an archer on one knee. The bow was bent and a metallic gold arrow was knocked ready to be released. It took a moment for Soren to realize the archer wasn’t human. For one thing the torso was almost twice the size of a humans and had strange bumps towards the bottom. Its facial features were clearly inhuman as well. The facial proportions were all off. The cheeks were almost comically puffed out but cheekbones were high sharp. The eyes were almost twice the size of hers and almond shaped like a cats. A tear had been etched into one of the cheeks and a pained expression distorted the otherwise serene edifice. It was easily the most alien thing she'd ever seen.
"That is an Enlil" Caracara's voice came from within her mind. "Once, they ruled over the entirety of Meridian. Their ruins can still be found throughout the mountains of this and other continents."
"Are there any left? I've never seen anything like that before." Soren mentally asked.
"The Enlil’s still have their capital, the Temple city of Archon. It is high in the mountains where the air is very thin for you mortals. Most don't visit the Temple city anymore. Once though, it was the center of the world. It was a sacred pilgrimage to take the mountain journey to Archon. Your kind were just starting to walk upright back then. It is interesting that this Dr. Hayes would venerate the Enlil so openly. There was a time when he'd be executed for such a thing. I suppose this is a small enough place, most probably don't know the Enlil or their history."
"Their history?" Soren asked.
“Soren?” Her mother softly called, cutting off her train of thought. She had been staring at the statue as her mother and Mrs. Hayes made their way into one of the side rooms. On the left, the bay doors had been closed. The other side had no doors at all and Soren quickly followed in the two women’s wake. The room had two arm chairs of dark leather each facing a fireplace. In between the two chairs, Soren noted a globe. She made a note to study the thing first chance she got. Every wall of the room, in fact every spare space available other than the fireplace was lined with shelves upon shelves of books. Soren had never seen so many books in her life. In fact, she had actually only ever seen two books. Neither of which she had been allowed to look through.
Yalina and Soren followed Mrs. Hayes’ labored steps through this room and into the hallway that connected to the rear of the house. From here they passed to the rear of the house, into the kitchen where Mrs. Hayes stopped and pointed to a short stairway in the back of the room.
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“Up there.” She said, gesturing up the narrow stairs then in her shaky voice she said,
“You’ll find the doctor up the stairs. Believe he is still speaking with, uh, what was it you said you name was again?”
“Pickett” Yalina said in a loud accented voice,
“Yes, right, Pickett. Up there then, I'll see to you all in the morning.” Without another glance at Soren or her mother, Mrs. Hayes shuffled out back into the hall they had just come from, mumbling indiscernibly under her breath. Single file, Yalina and Soren made there way up the narrow stairs twisting ever upward. Finally, reaching the landing, they found themselves in a long hallway with unmarked doors to either side. Wide double doors at the very end of the hallway enclosed the space. Soren momentarily hesitated, thinking they would have to check each door before finding the right room. Her mother confidently strode down the hall, passing each door before finally turning to the last door on the left and reaching for the doorknob. Before twisting it open, she turned to Soren and quietly said,
“When I left your father, he'd just fallen asleep. If he is sleeping, we won't wake him ok?”
“Yes mama.” Soren said back quietly. Just as she said it though she heard her father’s short bark of a laugh. Yalina twisted the doorknob open and led Soren into the room. Dolor Pickett was sitting up in bed and a hunched figure was seated on a stool next to him. Upon seeing his daughter, Dolor Pickett sat up a little straighter and a wide grin suddenly split his face. Soren suddenly realized her father had probably assumed she had been taken or killed by Madrid. How had he been able to laugh? She thought. Suddenly she realized she’d have to lie again, this time to her father. He’d ask where she had been and she’d have to lie, again.
“Soren!” her father exclaimed, immediately sending the man into a coughing fit. He was sitting up shirtless, clean white bandages wrapped around his torso. The mean black and blue of bruising was unmistakable around the edging of his bandages. His arm was in a sling and he looked pained as he coughed into his good hand. The doctor had turned at the sound of the door opening, then as Soren’s father began to cough he frowned and turned back to his patient saying,
“See, what did I tell you about breathing deeply or speaking loudly. Keep that up and you’ll never heal those ribs.” Looking chagrinned Dolor Pickett smiled again at his daughter saying,
“Dr. Hayes, I’d like to introduce my Daughter, Soren Pickett.” There was pride and relief in his voice when he said it and it tore at Soren’s insides.
“Good evening Dr. Hayes.” Soren said politely. Dr. Hayes stood and responded,
“Good evening young lady. I hear you are the one who managed to get your father back home. I do believe you saved his life.” Soren looked sheepishly back at her father then again at Dr. Hayes. He was much younger than Soren had imagined. His hair was well into graying but he still had most of it and his blue eyes were alight with a recognizable glow. As he walked towards Soren with his hand outstretched, she noted his tall and skinny build. She took his hand and shook. It was was a hand she had never felt before. No calluses. Everyone, everyone she knew had big tough leathery callouses. You had to if you planned on living off the land. But his hands held a sinewy strength and steadiness she somehow found reassuring. As he spoke in his soft deep voice, Soren found herself immediately trusting the man, though she couldn’t exactly explain why.
“I believe You and I have much to discuss. But it is late and I’m sure you are both very tired from your journey. Please feel free to make yourselves at home here. If you haven’t eaten, I believe there is still some supper downstairs.” He released Soren’s hand and turned to Soren’s father saying,
“As for me, a warm bed and a glass of whiskey are both calling. Goodnight Pickett’s,” The doctor made his way to the door, turning at the doorway he said,
“Safe journey through Enki’s house.” With that he stepped out of the room and closed the door. Dolor Pickett’s face immediately changed as the door closed. Anger suffused his face and a rage Soren had never seen entered his eyes.
“Papa?” Soren asked in an unsure voice,
“Do not papa, me. Soren Pickett what makes you think you can just take off like that? And let me guess, you went looking for that madman?” Dolor’s voice was quiet and dangerous. Soren looked down at her feet as she said,
“Yes sir. I tried but couldn’t find him.” Her father stared hard for a moment then said,
“Look at your mother. Look at what you put her through. She had to care for me these past two day. Alone! You think it was easy gettin’ me to town? All the while, worried sick that monster had taken our…!” his voice had grown louder as he spoke and he almost shouted the last part.
“No, papa” Soren said, tears filling her eyes. Dolor Pickett breathed heavily, chest rising and falling and sending him into another coughing fit. Soren waited for it to subside. Finally, he stopped and looking exhausted, he saw the remorse in her and it tempered his fury.
“Soren, you can never know how relieved I am you are alright. But please, for me, for your mother please, never run off like that again.” Soren chanced a look up and saw her father looking more exhausted than she’d ever seen him.
“Papa I… I’m so sorry.” She said dully. No one said anything for a long time and her words hung in the air with a strange ringing. Finally, her father broke the silence saying,
“Soren,” he sighed,
“I love you. I will always love you. Go on to bed. I need to speak with your mother.”
“Papa,” she said again,
“Go on now.” He cut her off but not unkindly and said,
“There’s a bed in the other room next to ours. Mama will be in presently.” To which Soren finally shuffled off, closing the door behind her and entering the next room over. The room was an exact copy of the one her father was in. Unadorned walls and a short bed with white sheets took up most of the space. A simple dresser sat opposite the bed beside the door, with an empty basin atop it. Through the walls she could hear the soft muffled sounds of her parents. She couldn’t make out any of the words even as she pressed her ear against the bare wall. She knew they were talking about her. It didn’t take long before the voices cut off and Soren heard her mother walk out of the room. Soren pretended to be asleep in the sterile bed as her mother entered,
“Little one. I know you are awake” Soren turned towards her mother, eyes still red with tears.
“Your father was scared. We thought we had lost you.” A small tear fell down Yalina’s cheek and she quickly brushed it away and continued.
“I’m so glad you are safe. Sleep now, tomorrow is a new day and we will have much to do.” Soren nodded into her pillow, knowing full well she wouldn’t be using it to sleep. She put her hand on Soren’s head and kissed it, a familiar ritual Soren didn’t understand but recognized all the same. Her mother took a small glass of water and dipped twelve drops onto the floor next to Soren’s bed. This was a ritual she didn't recognize. For a moment all sound stopped outside. It was so quiet Soren could hear the soft pat sound the small droplets made as they hit the hardwood. Then the sound returned, not as a rush, only a steady stream. Quietly, she rose and as her mother left the room she said,
“Safe travels Soren.” She closed the door behind her. The door clicked shut audibly but it was drowned by the noise of low rumbling thunder, unhappy laughter, horses clopping and many other noises sure to keep her awake. Soren laid her head back, listening and focusing on the distant thunder, it was constant and unnatural. Just when she thought she’d finally fall asleep a cruel laugh or low rumble would bring her back to the waking world. Finally, she resigned herself to sleeplessness and whispered,
“Caracara, are you there?”
"I am."
"How long have you been there? Are you watching me?"
"We should probably talk about a few things." There was a pause before he continued, "I am choosing to trust you, because I think you are smart enough to understand. I'm choosing to trust you because like it or not, we are connected for the foreseeable future. Now hold on," Soren ripped the sheets off herself and stood.
"The What!?" She said, cutting him off.
"I made a mistake, ok now hold on just listen," Soren was now pacing the room fingers running through her hair.
"This is bad, oh gawds this is so bad."
"Soren, please sit down and listen to me. We have an opportunity here. I can help you,"
"Help me?! How is any of this helping?"
"Ok, yes I can see how from your perspective I would not appear to have a very good track record. I want this connection less than you. I-... I made a mistake. I am sorry."
"aaaaahhhgggg" Soren growled as quietly as she could. she hissed at the voice in her head,
"Sorry does not fix this Caracara. How are you going to fix this?"
"I can't. I mean, I don't know, how. There may be a way, but I don't know of any. I am Huella-Cull. You know this."
"I knew it the moment I saw you." She sighed and sat back down on the bed with a squeak. "I knew, and I thought I could... I should have known. You just... I thought..."
"You thought you could fool a being that was older than the stones you walk upon?"
"Something like that, yeah. I guess we both made some mistakes. Not the best way to start a friendship."
"Probably not." He replied. The two sat in silence for a long moment before Soren finally said,
"My name is Soren Pickett. You knew that already when we first met so I didn't get to introduce myself." There was another long pause before he replied,
"My kind doesn't typically keep names. We are Huella-Cull, part of the void. However, I have existed long enough to recognize the value of personhood. Caracara works as good as any for now. It is good to meet you Soren. Perhaps we can start over."
"I'd like that." Soren said.