Chapter Text
Ela knelt by the softly gurgling stream, which flowed through the small clearing surrounded by the dense tropical foliage of the forest. She took in deep breaths of the heavy, moist air, filled with the fragrance of vibrant blooms. Tangled vines hung from the trees all around her and she drank in the familiar sight of the green ferns and plants growing thickly in the understory. Free at last. Home.
In the stream, Ela carefully washed and re-washed her keeper bracelet, seven times, repeating the sanctification chant in her mind each time. The cleansing chant taught her by her mother should, of course, have been spoken aloud, but this she was unable to do. As a thousand times before, she hoped the spirit helpers would forgive the lapse and honor her pure intentions. Ela reverently kissed the crimson beads and wrapped the string several times around her wrist, mouthing a silent prayer of gratitude.
The young woman stood up, and the rich earth and damp vegetation felt good beneath her bare feet. She glanced around the clearing and noted that the Great Warrior had not yet returned from his ablutions. Din. A small name for such a powerful warrior. Ela wondered what the name Din meant, but also knew that it could not possibly be his true name, for no warrior ever shared his spirit name with a stranger. Therefore, she did not begrudge him the false name he had given her. She, as well, had not given him her secret spirit name. May it rest safely in the bosom of Petah. But strangely, it was as if the Warrior half knew her name already. Had he not called her Spitfire?
Ela, automatically listening for sounds of danger amidst the cacophony of bird, animal, and insect life emanating from the dense jungle, watched her surroundings carefully as she knelt again to the stream to fill the water flask in preparation for the journey ahead. Din said his flying ship was on the far side of the Enemy fortress, and they had agreed last night to make a circuit through the forest towards his ship, traveling together. The path Ela had in mind would take them right by her village. She thought longingly of her tribe, the People of the Sun, and felt happy anticipation at finally being reunited with her tribe again, after the long separation.
For more than six months she had been held captive in the Enemy fortress. At first, she had been sure of rescue or escape, but as time went on her heart began to fail her. And then those last few months she had truly fallen into deep despair when her great Enemy (she would not pollute her mind with his name) had actually removed her protection, her keeper bracelet, from her wrist and placed it in his pocket in a shameful act of cowardice and thievery. When he saw that, finally, he had shaken her heart, he rejoiced in her suffering, and used her beads to torment and mock her. May he burn in the 12 fires of Petah forever. With the removal of her keeper bracelet, Ela had felt sure her spirit helpers had abandoned her, and that her punishment for veering from the Sacred Path was complete.
But then the Great Warrior had come in all his vengeance, and he had shown unlooked for mercy by releasing her from her bondage. The warriors of her village were, of course, proud and brave men, but none compared to this one, a powerful wielder of fire and fury. Ela, daughter of the Great Chief of the People of the Sun, was no coward, but she shuddered at the recollection of their final escape from the Enemy fortress. Din had been merciless, as was just and proper. With the devouring blaze spewing from his arm, and orbs of fire raining down upon the iniquitous heads of their foes in their flying crafts, the Warrior had been as a mighty god of judgment upon their enemies. She could, as of yet, hardly take in the cold way he had ruthlessly used the Fearsome Weapon, which by turns brought forth terrible paralyzing blue lightening, or caused cursed souls to disappear into the very air, with no physical body left to usher them into the afterlife.
Ela closed her mind to the memory. She focused her thoughts instead on the intense relief and gratitude she had felt when she discovered that her spirit helpers had not abandoned her after all. With their aid, and the fighting skills taught her, she had been able to assist the Warrior throughout their escape and in the final battle. She was truly grateful to her father, As A Rock, who had defied the Old Ones and the dictates of the Sacred Path, by allowing her to train in the use of warrior’s weapons. And for her brothers, who had permitted her to accompany them on hunts when it became clear at age 12, that she could never fulfill the proper duties of a wife and mother.
Hearing the unmistakable sounds of the Great Warrior moving through the thick underbrush, Ela’s reflections were interrupted and she stood and waited expectantly in the steamy heat. Soon they would go. Din had explained that he needed time and space for himself this morning, as he also had last night. It was right and proper that he should do so, but it had worried her just the same, him being off by himself, out of sight. There were many and many ways to die in her jungle home, and he knew none of them.
Din broke through the wall of vines and colorful shrubs into the clearing and greeted her with a nod and a casual wave. His metal helm and bright armor sparkled in the mottled sunlight that filtered down from above, and his cape swung softly as he pushed through the thick foliage. Ela could not help admiring him. By the spirits, he is tall. But suddenly her appreciation changed to alarm and she moved swiftly to his side when she noticed a deadly looking blade, covered in a gray slickness, gripped in his lowered hand. She pointed at the soiled blade with raised eyebrows and he huffed. “Yes. Something tried to pull me into the stream as I washed. I made him sorry.”
The Warrior’s pleasant voice, so unexpectedly calm and quiet, at great variance to his imposing figure and merciless nature, was a continual source of surprise and delight to Ela. She was unable to hide the relief in her eyes, but schooled her features to indifference as she satisfied herself that he had suffered no harm. Guessing his adversary, she moved both of her hands in front of her in long rapid slithering motions and pointed to the stream. Din wiped the stickiness from the blade onto a nearby leaf and said cheerfully, “That looks about it. Although there are a lot of life forms in this jungle.” Ela flashed a grin at him.
He had said much the same thing last night as they sat together with their backs against a large vine-covered tree to rest until morning. “Maker, there are a lot of life forms out there.” Night had fallen quickly in the jungle, as was usual once the sun set, and the darkness was black and complete. The chattering and shrieking of innumerable unseen creatures with their night noises flowed around and above them, and the aromas of bountiful plants and flowers rose on the steamy air. Ela had wondered if the Warrior was uncomfortably hot under all his layers and gear. She had secretly hoped that he would remove his helm and some of the protective raiment, as he rested, so she could look upon his visage and form. Alas, he had not. What manner of man is he?
As they had settled for the night, they had agreed to divide up the watches, and the Warrior had pulled the Fearsome Weapon forward, ready at hand, and Ela had the machete on her lap. They sat quietly together for a long time until suddenly out of the blackness and forest hum she heard Din say calmly, “Ela, I’m gonna be honest. I’m afraid something is going to carry you away in the darkness while I sleep and I won’t know anything about it since you can’t shout. If you don’t mind…” And then he had matter-of-factly placed his gloved hand solidly on her forearm and held it there. Ela was grateful the darkness had hidden her surprised smile of pleasure. She had then scooted right next to him, her shoulder resting against his arm, as was the custom of her people on a night hunt. They stayed that way all night. Ela warmed at the memory.
She had not actually needed the reassurance of his touch in the face of the potential dangers from the dense rainforest all around them. Truly the jungle was home to many creatures, dangerous and otherwise, and Ela knew them all. But she had enjoyed the companionship. Leaning against the Warrior as they rested against the tree had reminded her of her favorite brother Ahan, called New Day for his bright smile, and the dull ache in her heart had been soothed. After the loneliness and distress of her long captivity, Ela was enjoying the company of Din, as food to her soul.
Ela’s thoughts were brought back to the present by movement as the Warrior replaced the spotless knife in its sheath by his boot. He stood, and glancing at her, took stock of her state of readiness. She had tucked the machete and the smaller knife into a vine belt she had braided together and wrapped around her waist. The crossbow and quiver of bolts were slung over her shoulders, and the water flask was in her hand. Yesterday, as they fled the perimeter of the fortress, Ela had flung her great Enemy’s foolish belt into one of the Warrior’s raging fires. Although she kept the small knife and sheath out of necessity, she would no longer pollute her person with his other foul belongings. May the 12 fires of Petah torment his soul forever.
Ela held the flask of water out to Din and indicated that she herself did not need it. Everything she needed could be found in the abundant rainforest around them. He shook his head in refusal and she wondered, not for the first time, how he did not seem to require food or drink. Truly he was a matchless warrior full of strength and vigor.
Ela hung the flask from its strap on a nearby branch covered in beautiful flowers and turned to the Warrior. “Ready?” he asked. She studied him solemnly for a long moment without responding. No. Not quite yet. There was something she must do and she wondered how to do it. Could she dare? Ela unconsciously placed her left hand at her throat over the long thin scar.
The Warrior tilted his helm to the side in an unspoken question and Ela thought hard. She wished she had something to offer in trade and almost regretted tossing the scorned belt, with its pockets filled with unknowable objects. But no matter! Was she not Fire Heart, only daughter of the Great Chief of the People of the Sun?
Ela stepped forward and drew her slight figure to her full height. She looked imperiously up at the Warrior and pointed at the small compartment in his belt where she had seen him put the greefkarga. He looked down at where she was pointing and asked in faint confusion, “You need something? Is your arm hurting?” Ela had forgotten her arm injury. She glanced down at the bandage he had replaced that morning and shook her head impatiently. She pointed again at the small compartment. Then, she held one hand palm up and with the other made a floating, swirling motion suspended over the palm, hoping he would understand.
The Warrior watched her hand gestures and finally grunted, but shook his head as he pulled a small disk from the belt and held it on the palm of his hand. He began to say, “No, it’s no good,” as the blue shimmering image of the Enemy fortress floated above his hand. “It won’t help us outside of—”
Quick as a flash Ela snatched the disk from his palm, placed it on a flat rock and smashed it violently with the handle of the machete she had whipped from her waist in a fluid movement. Ignoring the startled exclamation from the Warrior, she gathered the broken pieces and placed them on a broad leaf she had cut for the purpose, along with some berries and a plump skera beetle she had gathered earlier. She wrapped it all into a tight bundle and tied it with a slim vine she plucked from the foliage near her. Then, with a sideways glance at Din as she passed, she hung the bundle from the flowery branch next to the suspended water flask. Pressing her palms together, she bowed over her hands three times and chanted the peace offering song in her mind. Please forgive my silent song Great Mother. She concluded the ritual by touching the keeper bracelet to her lips and nodding solemnly.
When she finished, Ela turned to the Warrior and faced him with her chin up and her face expressionless. He had his hands on his hips and was watching her, very still. He did not seem disturbed by her destruction of the greefkarga, but she could not tell, as his warrior’s helm very properly concealed his hidden thoughts and expressions. He glanced at the branch with the offering and then back to her, and said mildly, “All set?”
Ela quietly let out the breath she had been holding in fear of his powerful anger, and let herself relax. She nodded. She did not understand how the Warrior had captured the ghost spirit of the Enemy fortress and enslaved it in the disk, but she could not risk offending the Great Forest by bringing the tormented spirit into the jungle. She prayed her offering had been accepted, and also hoped the spirit of the Enemy fortress was now free. Perhaps now the evil living there could be banished.