I sat with Uzuri talking about the world around her, telling her about the vibrant green leaves on the trees, and how the deer prance in the forest. I told her fairytales my father used to tell me when I was little, until she fell asleep. Night soon approaching, the matriarchs preparing to make their rounds, I take my leave and exit the village of Unadeam as silently as I had entered it.
Removing the board in the wall I climb to freedom and nearly jump back into the wall when I hear someone approach from the forest. I scrambled backwards only to have my arms grabbed and I was pulled out from the wall.
“So, this is how you sneak in,” says Gareth dusting me off as I hang from his hand, “I knew you were around as Uzuri finally stopped crying.”
He drops me onto my feet and replaces the board behind me and beckons me toward the forest saying, “if you want another entry point, there is another breach like this one a bit further that way, though I don’t think the boards are loose like that one. Then again you may not want to use it as it does empty out into the walked roads.”
I still find it strange to have Gareth talk to me like this. I follow him in silence as he continues to try and make small talk as we walk into the forest. We walk for a good while until we arrive at the same campsite, we talked at only a day or so ago.
“She’s been crying for you, you know,” says Gareth sitting down on the same stump he sat on two days ago, “Dad, wasn’t merciful with her, he really tore into her this time. Didn’t matter what he did to her, what really hurt her was thinking you were gone.”
“She told me not to come back, as there wouldn’t be anyone to return back to,” I say taking my place beside Gareth, as he busied himself trying to light the wood that was prepared prior to our arrival. I want to feel something knowing she was concerned for me, but I need to start shoving those feelings away. Those feelings can’t be reciprocated, and even if they are, they will only bring both of us pain later. She’s just a friend, I repeat in my head like some sort of mantra, and I’m just trying to save a dear, dear friend.
“You heard her speak like that, huh?” says Gareth sitting back as the fire came to life, “She’s never spoken like that until she thought you were dead. I thought that she would quit it when you came to visit.”
I poke at the fire with a stick, and Gareth brings out a sack where he takes out some skewered vegetables that he places around the fire. We watch the vegetables cook, and begin to char, and neither of us speak. I don’t think either of us really feels like we can, given the heaviness of our thoughts.
“We can’t wait until the trials,” says Gareth breaking free of the gloom, “one day more of her imprisonment is one day to many.”
“What do you propose we do now? Barge into the main gate with some spears? We’ll be skewered like your veg by lunch,” I say warming my hands by the fire, “it has been less than what two-three days since I was strung up, and we are no better off than we were then.”
“I know but… what happens if we do succeed and we are too late… what happens if she does go and do it,” says Gareth he seems so distraught that he picks up every skewer and begins to devour them. I kind of wanted one, but I think he needs them more than I do.
“I don’t think that will happen, unless all our options are gone and we do somehow meet our demise during the trials,” I say getting up stretching my back and arms, “I think I might have convinced her to give us a chance, but if we fail despair is all we will have to look forward to.”
Gareth appeased by what I had to say calms down enough to offer me one of the skewers in his hand. I refuse it and let him have it. I don’t have much of an appetite now that I’m more aware of the urgency needed in our action.
I think about the village and ponder on my father’s words about the consequences of saving Uzuri. If Gareth and I are successful, we most likely will bring some sort of retribution upon them. I ask myself if I could really bring suffering upon them or as my father also said damn them to oblivion. I hate them, but I’d never wish death upon them. If I do something for the good of one, yet it condemns the majority have I still done good or a great evil. Who are you Uzuri, and what evil will I take upon myself to free you?
“Were there ever any wars in the valley?” I ask, remembering what the guards had said behind the wall.
“Why do you ask?” says Gareth playing with the now empty skewers and making a star by bending them into each other.
“I’ve been learning many things about Uzuri, but none of it makes sense,” I say sitting down on the stump again, “When I was traveling through the alleys, I heard two guards talking and they mentioned something about wars, but as far as I know the village is the only people that call the valley their home.”
“You mean except the teratolion right,” says Gareth tossing his star into the fire, “then again, they keep to their stinking holes and haven’t done anything all the days of my life. Those mole people probably find the light obtrusive and don’t dare come out from Martog’s embrace.”
“Has the village ever come into conflict with them before?” I ask the blanks in my knowledge filling themselves in, “would there ever be a reason for Unadeam and the teratolion to come in contact.”
Gareth digs in his bag again and produces even more skewers, this time with meat and vegetables, and tilts his head upward deep in thought, “I don’t think so. We keep to the valley; they keep to their holes. There isn’t a reason for us to even approach the black walls, well except for the high matriarch during atonement.”
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“Wait, what is atonement,” I ask thirsty for information as for all the questions I have, Gareth is providing answers.
“Well, only the high matriarch and her attendant may approach a holy place near the black wall,” says Gareth carefully placing each meat skewer next to the fire, “this occurs twice a year during the solstices. My mum says the matriarch goes to be with the goddess, whilst acknowledging the maw of Martog whatever that means.”
“Where is this place?” I ask whilst I feel myself scooting forward on my seat.
“The western wood in between two teratolion dens,” says Gareth rotating the skewers, “but how does this have anything to do with Uzuri?”
A holy place between the two entrances to the home of the teratolion. In addition, this holy place is in a part of the woods I haven’t wandered much because my mother forbade it and a boar nearly killed me when I disobeyed my mother’s rules. My mother also made my father promise not to harm the village and in helping Uzuri it could break his promise to my mother. Only a high matriarch and her attendant have reason to enter those woods, and my mother was in line to be the high matriarch. My mother and the teratolion are the keys to solving the riddle around Uzuri.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about, but I don’t think I can fully answer how Uzuri connects just yet. We should probably be trying to figure out our next plan to break her out,” I say smiling and quickly snag a skewer before Gareth can eat them all again.
“That’s not quite done yet,” says Gareth trying to take back the skewer, “you’ll get sick if you don’t let it cook long enough.”
“I’ll be fine, I like my meat a little pinker in the middle,” I say chowing down triumphantly on the skewer.
“Suit yourself. Also, did you have something to do with that weird fire display on the black walls?” says Gareth pointing to the obsidian cliffs, “what have you learned?”
“My father would be responsible for the fire display. Also, I haven’t learned anything yet, but I kind of promised my life and death to someone to get these,” I say pulling out my grandfather’s gloves from my pocket.
“You got married and all you got were these wrinkled things,” says Gareth grabbing one of the gloves to get a closer look at it.
“No, I’m not married. I think… entering into indentured servitude would be a better way to describe my situation,” I say grabbing the glove back from him, “apparently these will teach me magic.”
“So, your father lit up the wall, and someone came and you sold yourself into slavery for a pair of old gloves,” says Gareth looking at the gloves in my hands, “sounds like you got the short end of the stick on that deal.”
“Well, it was a deal with family so it could have gone worse. My uncle owns my life and death in a life debt, but he promised to teach me soulcraft strong enough to save Uzuri, so I guess we came off even,” I say not even believing my own words at this point. Gareth had ruined the events of the last few days for me in just a few simple questions. I may have made some drastically dumb decisions, and I can’t deny that now that Gareth’s eyes train in on me with incredulous stares.
Gareth laughs and picks up another skewer, “no, you got played for a fool. Next time let me come with you, so you don’t do anything desperate again. You chucked yourself to Martog!”
“And we’ll probably need the strength of Martog to save Uzuri,” I say chomping down on my skewer, trying not to look exasperated, as every second I spend with Gareth I feel more and more like an imbecile.
“Martog would probably need to defend her after we save her as well,” says Gareth shaking his head chuckling to himself, “by his maw the villagers would probably try to reclaim her if we don’t have anything less than him behind us.”
I think both of us came to the same idea, at the exact same time. There was nothing the village feared more than Martog himself. If Martog came to visit they would cower in fear and know their day of reckoning would be at hand. They would accept his presence as judgement upon them.
“You down for a little sacrilege,” I say with a chuckle, “I have an idea that just might work.”
Gareth’s eyes are wide, and he can’t seem to articulate himself for a few seconds, “Skath, if I am thinking what you are… impersonating not just a demon, but the very king of the demons could damn us both to his maw.”
“Better us than Uzuri,” I say jumping up dancing around the fire, “I’m already called Martog born, might as well claim my birthright! Let’s become a demon of the pit, so that we can righteously provide salvation to one in desperate need. The village will see this as a rebuke from the goddess, and we will be able to get in and out easily!”
“Do you really think that getting some boar bones and dressing up will convince anyone,” says Gareth tossing a skewer stick at me, “this idea is doomed to fail, and much worse, when we are caught no amount of healing will bring us back from Gehenna’s fury. We will be cud in Martog’s maw by morning.”
I shake my gloves in front of Gareth’s face, “we will have magic on our side! We just need to sell the performance with a spectacle that no one would be able to deny!”
I feel excited, and now understand why my uncle was so fond of flamboyance as I continue, “spectacle and trickery will be how we break into the village! People will bow in fear and awe as we trample down their sacred walkways. They will cower as my magics tear into the walls that hold Uzuri prisoner, and I will do this all while being upon your shoulders!”
“Wait, I know I said I would assist you in any escape attempt you came up with but why am I your mule?” asks Gareth, standing up from his seat.
“Isn’t it obvious Gareth,” I say standing next to him and trying to make myself taller by standing on my tip toes, “I’m tiny, who would believe a midget like me is a demon, much less Martog himself. On your shoulders we would stand taller than Gehenna himself!”
“You have a lot of faith in those gloves,” says Gareth rubbing his face with his hand, “but if you do obtain magic necessary to pull off this charade, I’ll help you. I promised I would. Argh, I hate that I promised knowing what I have to do now, but I’m a man of my word.”
I playfully put on the gloves and every muscle in my body contracts at once. I fall to the ground and I begin to convulse in torturous torment. It feels like the gloves are trying to drill holes into my hands, and the agony of the mist or rather essence exiting my body multiplies every second the gloves are on my hands. I’m being drained of my essence, and my body won’t listen to me to take the gloves off. I feel something within me begin to bound off the walls of my flesh. I look down and see the glimmering orb within me tearing through my body as if it’s trying to escape, each time it collides a new wave of trauma bursts through my body.
My vision begins to darken as I hear Gareth yelling at me, and I feel the gloves slip from my hands as he tears them from me. My body relaxes, and within the brief few seconds of consciousness I had before slipping completely, I heard one word, “grandson.”