The group stewed in silence.

Unable to stop herself, Daysha shouted, “Is that the end?”

She shrank immediately, ashamed at her disrespect, but the Chieftain smiled warmly and sympathetically, “That's the end.”

Daysha felt ill, and from the looks on the faces of the others, they did too.

“Master,” Keti spoke quietly, “You said my father likely didn't know why The Follower – why Luna – had changed. But, why? Why do our people not know this story?”

“As the story said, people from lands far beyond Bulwark traveled to Luna to test their hunting prowess. Many of those hunters were from our tribe, Keti. And most of them, out of shame for what they had done, never spoke of the atrocities again. The proverbs of Bulwark that the story describes are cautionary tales for the people who could repeat those mistakes. Our tribe is unlikely to stumble upon these ladders in the middle of the ocean. But as a precaution, we have chosen to limit contact with the outside world. And our people seem to receive the warning in different ways.”

“The dream,” Maisen breathed, not meaning to interject.

“Precisely, Maisen,” the Chieftain acknowledged. “It has become our custom that when young men dream this dream, I appoint them to an office of service. Normally,” his gaze twinkled as he glanced at Maisen, “this serves as a temperance. Those who carry the shame of their ancestors are appeased by not being required to join the hunt. You see, in a time when all men were expected to hunt, many struggled to adapt to the forced call. Those who desperately tried to prove themselves, who needed glory and honor in their hunting, they were drawn to Luna.

“It seems that now, the dream catches them with a preemptive warning for where that path leads. And yet, Maisen walked the path, swallowed his shame, and kept hunting!”

The Chieftain laughed heartily, but Maisen stared solemnly downward.

“Master, I understand if I must now cease –” Maisen began, but the Chieftain cut him off abruptly.

“You'll do no such thing!” the Chieftain barked, his tone stern, but not fierce.

Daysha watched Maisen nod, but his brow remained furrowed.

“Maisen, I am amazed at your fortitude,” the Chieftain continued, “You spoke of necessity, duty to feed your family and this tribe. This is all we want from our hunters. It's as if you met the danger, called it by name, and then walked with it into every hunt. Others saw it standing like a guard on the road to destruction and turned back, rightly avoiding what lay beyond it. I will not fault you for allowing this guilt to guide you on your way. Simply, I am in awe of how your honor has overwhelmed the fear. How your choice to go on in spite of it has not grown to hubris or wastefulness.”

Daysha felt a swell of pride for Maisen and hoped he accepted the Chieftain's commendation. But a bubbling anxiety radiated from her gut, prickling down to her fingertips. She drank a small sip of wine before announcing,

“Master, forgive me, but the story seems incomplete. Are there really no Aydo left? What of the Aydin? Might they one day return to Luna?”

The Chieftain smiled sympathetically, “For all we know, they are gone. The Aydin that found refuge in Bulwark have now mixed with the people of our world for at least five generations, maybe six. This is the story told to children, an introduction to the atrocities. I'm sure there are others who know many more details of the actual events. But I do not.”

“But rains still come, torrents even. Clouds still form rings around The Follower. Aren't these things that the story says came from the Aydo?”

The Chieftain, for the first time since they came to the meal, sat up with his back straight and his legs crossed. Maisen, Keti, and Daysha all did the same.

“Daysha,” the Chieftain began slowly, “I have no answer for your questions. And I understand that you're asking them instead of the question you really want to ask me. And I'm sorry. I can explain Maisen's dream. I cannot explain yours.”

It was as she feared. She had listened to every word of the Chieftain's story, waiting for an explanation of what she had dreamed. But there was no mention of fire ever coming from the mouths of the Aydo. Very little had been said about the Aydin. Nothing seemed to explain the cry of the child that jolted her from sleep. There was no explanation.

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Daysha couldn't help herself. Two silent tears escaped her eyes. Maisen reached to hold her hand.

“Surely, something can be done,” Keti pleaded weakly.

“Hope is not lost, Daysha,” the Chieftain assured, “But I must warn you, if you do need answers, they won't be found anywhere in our tribe.”

“The outer lands, you mean?” Maisen asked.

“Yes.” The Chieftain did not elaborate.

The group exchanged glances. Daysha wiped her cheeks.

“How far must they go?” Keti asked softly.

“South of here there is a city, about a two-day journey.” The Chieftain answered Keti, but spoke to Daysha. “I know the leader of the city and can assure a safe welcome. What you may learn there, I don't know. I cannot promise answers.”

Daysha nodded solemnly. After a moment of silence, Daysha spoke. “This all has led me to so many more questions. I don't think I could go on knowing only this much. If there's a chance, I think I have to take it.”

“Very well, then.” The Chieftain straightened his back, “I have one more thing to show you. And this – ” he heaved a sigh, “ – might be quite shocking.”

Maisen, Keti, and Daysha exchanged nervous looks.

“Return with me to the fire.” The Chieftain rose and the others followed, resuming their seats in front of the towering flames.

"What I am about to show you is a high honor." The Chieftain's voice was low and deathly serious. "Maisen, had you come to me as a young boy, I would have told you that story. I would have shown you this wonder, as I am about to. Even I, as Chieftain, was presented with these truths when I assumed my role. But each of us must keep the knowledge of lands beyond our own limited to the people. Daysha, Keti, to my knowledge, no women have ever been shown this. Please respect this, for I must warn you that revealing it to others of our tribe will come with grave consequences.”

The three nodded in unison, remaining silent.

"Maisen and Daysha, by merit of their dreams, have a right to know these mysteries. I extend it now to you, Keti, because, like all of us learned when we were initiated, no one should carry it alone."

A lump hardened in Daysha’s throat.

“Keti, when they go, I give you permission to seek my counsel freely. Should you have any concerns in their absence, I will address them. But you may not share any of what you have learned today with any in our tribe. We will decide later how to explain where they've gone.”

“Yes, Master, I understand,” Keti answered in a shaky voice.

One of the attendants, Tyrum, presented a wooden plank upon which were multi-colored heaps of herbs and incense. The Chieftain took the tray and laid it carefully between his feet. He pinched portions of the red pile between the fingers of his right hand and the dull yellow in his left.

"Watch the flames." The Chieftain threw both powders toward the coals.

Daysha stared into the orange tongues of fire. They lapped at the spices, igniting them midair. Orbs of light sizzled hot white then brandished radiant shades of emerald, azure, and blood-red before dripping down. Like water droplets, they found the edge of a flame and clung to an impossible border, trickling deftly downward to the coals. Radiant beams of colored light striped the towering fire.

Fixated on the hearth, Daysha heard the Chieftain's voice, "When you arrive at the city and meet its leader, he will be able to relay a message back to me this way."

The stripes of color thinned and pressed tightly together, repeating their pattern of red, green, and blue. Between them Daysha could see new shades; yellows and purples lit the corners of her vision. The vertical lines squeezed out horizontal auras that revealed new shapes. Something round appeared and she squinted to discern it. Another, smaller circle within the first grew larger just as Daysha gasped in recognition. Keti let out a scream. A voice within the hearth spoke, "Is that you, Billah?"

Daysha thought she might also scream as a face, now distinct and clear as if he were inside the hut with them, spoke to them out of the fire.

"All is well, Giovanni," the Chieftain offered.

Daysha blinked, expecting the image to fade like smoke, but it grew more crisp. The full image of his head, shoulders, and torso filled the flames. The face in the fire was that of a young man. Perhaps older than Daysha herself, but only just. His hair was black as ashes, his eyes, sky blue. Daysha wanted to believe that his smile was kind, but peering into the fire to see another person within it left her deeply unsettled.

Over his shoulders, Daysha could see a room decorated in opulence to rival the Chieftain's hut. The light of day could be seen beyond him through an opening over his left shoulder. Long drapings surrounded the square gap in the wall, but their rich, red color was unlike any animal skin Daysha had ever seen. And judging by their length, the animal would have been enormous. Even the flaxen cloth with which Daysha was familiar had little similarity to the expertly woven hangings.

Other items in the room, over the man's right shoulder, were utterly foreign to Daysha. Upon a table made of wood, stacks of strange bricks were piled high. The girth of each looked striated, the color of strands from a freshly-torn sapling. They appeared pressed on the top and bottom with slightly thicker slabs of red, blue, and brown separating each brick. A large, brown orb in the middle of the floor had been suspended on a platform of four shiny, black legs. A similar thin bar surrounded the orb, another wrapped over top of it.

Little else could be seen beyond the man's shoulders. But the enclosure that surrounded him, Daysha could tell, was no hut. Did he sit in one of the stone houses the Chieftain had mentioned with such amusement?

"I understand that my call has come at an unusual time, and I'm sorry to alarm you." The Chieftain's voice sounded light and friendly.

"Tell me who it is you've brought to meet me, Billah.” His eyes flitted between Daysha and Keti in particular. “I see you have guests."