“Do not look down on oral tradition. They are how tales from ages long past, thousands of years before anyone invented or reinvented writing, were handed down over the generations. That some of them made it to the present day speaks for itself.” - Garth Wainwrought, Dean of the Levain Institute for Higher Learning, circa 697 FP.
“Well, that saves us some trouble at least,” said Aideen with a smile on her face as she approached the young orc. “Didn’t expect many to still remember me since it’s been over a century already now. So little Miro made it to shamanhood, huh? Good to hear. Any relations with him, by the way? You have some resemblance to him as well.”
“Ah, yes, Milady. My name is Juuka. My grandfather is a cousin to great shaman Miro, so I’d be his great-nephew,” replied the young orc with some surprise. She was not certain whether his surprise was over meeting a figure from tales so old they might well be legend, or if said figure was familiar enough with his family to notice the resemblances.
“Just call me Aideen. That’s Celia. She was with me when we were living with your clan, so Miro might have spoken of her as well,” replied Aideen, to which the young orc nodded after some thought, probably recalling the stories he had heard until he remembered some about Celia. “Those three are my grand-nephew and grand-nieces, while she’s another disciple of mine. Might we partake of a share in Clan bloodfang’s home and hearth once more?”
“It would be our Honor, Milady! Please wait here for a moment while I make some arrangements,” said Juuka as he bowed atop his steed and swiftly turned back to his companions.
Aideen watched as the young orcs discussed for a moment, before one of them – mounted on a large bird that resembled the Deathbirds she saw used in Alfheim – took off towards the north, while five more continued on their original eastwards routh. Juuka himself alongside another young orc, a youthful girl around his age mounted on a dire wolf, came back to meet Aideen’s group.
“This is Uria, she’s my cousin and also a direct descendant of great shaman Miro,” said Juuka as he introduced the young woman next to him. Uria herself gave Aideen a slight respectful bow, which Aideen and Celia returned smoothly since they were familiar with the gestures used by the clans in the northern plains. “We will lead you to the village, if you please.”
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“My thanks, and sorry for the trouble,” replied Aideen with a nod. “I take it the others are continuing the patrol?”
“They are, yes. Five of them are plenty for the route, to be honest. We just do our patrols in eights for situations like what we have here,” explained Uria with a clear voice. The girl herself was pretty mixed in heritage, with hints of elvish and human heritage visible amongst the orcish features, which was not unexpected given how the clans had taken in some of the captive humans from the expeditions over the years.
“Larbo is running ahead to the village since he has the fastest mount amongst us. He will bring word of your arrival ahead of us so they can prepare accordingly,” added Juuka with a wide, toothy grin on his rough, but honest face. “We certainly were not expecting a visit from the honored Eternal! It’s a blessing for the visit to happen in our lifetimes!”
“I’m not as great as the tales claim, Juuka. There have been a lot of embellishments and exaggerations in those, and I bet your own grand-uncle would add some of his own spin to it as well,” said Aideen with an amused smirk on her face. She was used to tales about her being spun into wild tales with little reminiscence to the originals by this point. Given the passage of time, such changes simply couldn’t be avoided.
“Well, it still is a great honor to us regardless, Milady! If you’d please follow along?”
The pair of young orcs actually dismounted and offered their mount for Aideen and the rest to ride on, though they politely declined. In the end, the group decided to walk together towards the present location of clan Bloodfang’s encampment. The young orcs led their mount by the reins, walking on the outside of the group as escorts, while the rest easily kept up with them.
From where they were, it was roughly a day’s ride to the Bloodfang’s present encampment, around two day’s walk under normal conditions. Fortunately, Aideen’s group was not exactly normal by any means, so she told the young orcs to mount up and lead the way. Her group will keep up with them on foot, and they meant what they said.
As Unliving, Aideen, Celia, and Kino had practically unlimited stamina and could keep up a full run practically forever, whereas the elven siblings had their heritage to thank for, their long, loping steps easily allowing them to keep up with the others with minimal effort. Elves were renowned long-distance runners for a reason, and the siblings proved it by keeping up with the mounts without any problems despite running for most of the day.
They arrived at the encampment of the Bloodfangs on the evening of the next day, and even from afar, it was obvious that the encampment were in the middle of preparing a large feast, likely to welcome them. It was not outside Aideen’s expectations, knowing that the little boy who likes to follow her around during her last years in the Clan was not only still alive but had become the clan’s great shaman, but it still warmed her heart nonetheless.
After all, it was not everyday that one found themselves a warm welcome in a distant land, where what relations remained were ones long frayed by the passage of time, yet held strong nonetheless, persistently lasting till the day they could be woven together once more.