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The sound of a quiet, chanting voice awoke Kotallo from his deep slumber. He tried to open his eyes to get a glimpse of who the sound was coming from, but his lids were heavy, forcing his eyes closed. It took a couple more attempts until he was finally able to open them, and as he did, he immediately drew them to a sharp squint, the brightness of his surroundings slowly dimming as the firelight shone across his eyes.
As Kotallo’s vision grew more adjusted to the radiance, so did his ears, as the chanting sound became much more clearer, its melodic tune echoing around him. He had never heard such a tune sung before in the Tenakth lands, for the ones he heard were usually loud and vigorous, performed with ferocious beats that played on drums. But those instruments did not utter here for all he heard was the singer’s voice, a soft and peculiar sound.
Kotallo darted his eyes around him, searching for the mysterious being who sang such a bewildering tune. Soon, his gaze fell on the hooded woman knelt beside him, her skin a dark, copper brown with black pigment adorning her forehead and drawn out all the way down to the bridge of her nose. In her hands were a small wooden bowl and a barrel-shaped tool of some kind. She pounded the tool against the wooden surface, crushing something underneath as she continued singing. With all the sounds combined together, it almost felt hypnotic as he slowly began to drift off into a state of peace and safety. But before he could fall back into a deep slumber, he shortly became aware of the woman's identity. He had seen her moments before the ambush at Barren Light and later by his side, just as she was now. Her furred and animal pelted attire revealed the tribe she belonged to. The Nora. Kotallo felt his veins throb in his neck as he opened his mouth, his teeth bare as he spat weakly. “ Skeeva .”
The woman turned her head sharply towards him, her eyes wide as she became aware of his presence. She began to speak but Kotallo was in no mood to hear the poison uttered from the outlander’s lips. He raised his left hand high in an attempt to push her away from him, but he instantly felt a strong resistance to his movements, as if something was shackled to his limb, pulling it down. He turned his head towards his left and soon became enlightened to the arm that was no longer there. Kotallo felt his breath quicken as he examined the empty space, the shortened limb, the blood-stained bandages wrapped beneath his shoulder. What he saw before him did not make much sense, for he did not remember much from what had happened prior. He clenched his unmaimed hand tightly as it rested against his bare chest, but he soon felt his heart beat rapidly underneath his palm, banging like the drums he heard in the Tenakth songs.
An agonizing pain began throbbing in the area underneath his shoulders, making Kotallo groan loudly, his eyes open wide. A wave of dizziness soon rushed over him, his throat becoming dry and stale as he gasped for air. He closed his eyes shut as his mind flickered through the millions of questions he had in his head, begging for answers that he could not give. Before he knew it, he felt a warm touch against his cold cheeks, awakening his senses and bringing his gaze back upon the strange women. She hummed and shushed as she caressed her thumbs against his skin, but Kotallo twisted his head, darting his eyes anxiously around him, gasping as he searched for solace.
“Kotallo, look at me.” The woman uttered his name amongst the hushes of whispers, her touch a strong anchor pulling him forth. “Kotallo — Breath. ”
As their gazes met with one another, Kotallo drew in a sharp breath, his lungs expanding as his chest rose. Time seemed to stand still as he watched her, her lips moving as the rest of the surroundings hid in a deep blur. His grey eyes wandered in her deceptively warm-brown gaze, and in them he found a sense of woe, a knowledge that this woman had seen much of life and known its sorrows. Kotallo knew the cruelty that life gave, he had been dealt its unfortunate hand throughout his many years on this Earth. But as her thinly woven hood casted a sharp shadow across her face, the warm light dimmed from her eyes and hid beneath the black pigment painted on her skin. Kotallo’s eyes grew wide, his breath quickening once more as his chest rose and fell at a hastened pace. He knew better than to trust an outlander, after all they had done he knew better than to listen to their lies.
Kotallo batted away the woman’s grip aggressively with his unmaimed hand, leaving her unbalanced and staggering as she tried to regain her position. But before he could do anything else, he felt his blood pulse more rapidly across his body, his head feeling light and drowsy as the seconds passed. He darted his eyes around his surroundings but his vision was hazy and dark, pulling him further and further into a black abyss. His breath caught in his chest as he gasped for air but nothing could stop the inevitable. And soon, his vision began to get darker and darker, until all he saw was nothing.
***
Nightfall soon fell across The Grove and the sound of birds chirping began to sing across the starlit sky. Layan rubbed her tired eyes with her fingers and yawned before continuing to crush her mixture of herbs and dreamwillow in her wooden bowl. She felt grateful to have gathered enough water willow bark from the Brave trails before she left to travel West, for it was a common medicine used in the Nora tribe and did well to ease the pain and suffering of others.
Layan knew Kotallo would need it more than her, especially after the trauma he had experienced in the past few hours. She could not begin to imagine what it must have felt like to wake up and find that one of your own limbs were severed from your body. How do you even begin to cope after such a loss?
A deep sigh escaped through Layan’s lips as she glanced at the sleeping warrior. The memory of his sharp breaths and anxious gaze replaying over and over again in her head, plaguing her mind. She recalled how she had tried to keep him calm, to keep him from going back into shock, but her efforts were to no avail. For no matter what she did, his hatred for what she represented overpowered the help she tried to give.
Layan shook her head as she continued crushing the herbs in her bowl. She did not understand the Tenakth’s resentment towards outlanders but it seemed deep rooted within their clan, and the longer she stayed, the more she was reminded of their displeasure with every interaction she had with them. Perhaps it was better for her to leave sooner rather than later. But she knew that she could not depart from this land yet, not when Varl was still healing from his injuries.
Layan closed her eyes. If she was a spiritual person then she would have believed that All-Mother had tied cords to her arms, keeping her shackled to this place until she had fulfilled the purpose that was holding her here. But Layan was not a spiritual woman, she did not believe in a higher power that controlled her very existence, only the reality that she shaped for herself. And if it took her breaking down the very walls that held this structure together just so she could escape then she would do it.
But before Layan could wallow in her thoughts, she heard a rustling sound from the distance. She forced her heavy eyes open and glanced at the familiar figure entering through the curtained entrance. It was the older woman from before. Dekka . Layan found herself admiring the woman’s peculiar attire, for the spiked metal shards that adorned her chest and arms were like nothing she had ever seen before. They were painted in the same colours as the red and blue pigment painted on her skin, making her grand, white hair stand out amongst the rest.
Unlike the others, Layan found a gentleness in her eyes and as she approached her, Layan greeted her with a weak smile.
“How is he?”
Layan glanced at Kotallo, his chest rising and falling at a much steadier pace. “Recovering,” she answered. And that was all she said, for it was best to keep the events that happened prior sealed in her mouth.
“Blessed be the Ten.” Dekka breathed out, a sigh of relief escaping through her lips. She knelt down beside Layan and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder before curling her fingers into a fist and pounding it against her spiked chest. “ Taegou yanki — You have our thanks.”
Layan twisted her lips into a tight smile. If only the sleeping warrior shared the same sentiments. She returned her attention to the bowl in her hand and began crushing the herbs, squeezing all the oils she could from the mixture. But before she could finish, she felt Dekka’s wrinkled hands across hers, removing the bowl from her grasp and placing it on the stoned floor beside her.
“Come, you have done more than enough.” Dekka announced before standing to her feet. “Chief Hekarro awaits your attendance in the throne room.”
Layan frowned, her brows furrowed. “But I have not finished the concoction for — ”
“I am sure the other healers are more than capable of completing the brew while you are gone.”
Layan stuttered, desperate to find an excuse to stay. “This is a Nora potion, how would they know what to—”
“ Come ,” Dekka ordered, her tone much more assertive. She was not taking no for an answer.
A deep sigh escaped through Layan’s lips as she glanced off into the distance. If she was being honest, she was in no mood to meet this Chief , for she knew that he would ask something of her, something that would keep her tied further to this place. But Dekka was persistent and Layan was all out of excuses, so she bit through the aching tension in her muscles and stood to her feet, waiting for Dekka to lead the way.
They exited through the corridor outside, walking through the main passageways until they arrived at the large open halls. The settlement glowed in a warm, amber hue, decorative firelights burning bright as they lit the way forth. She had not noticed it before but under the light she became aware of the vegetation that grew around the area. The plants and herbage had somehow found a way to thrive within the sanded pathways and the stoned walls; Layan could not help but admire the colour it brought to the place.
As they continued further through the quiet settlement, their feet treading through sand, Layan became enlightened by the glitching images hailed on squared podiums. She stopped in her tracks and walked towards the one nearest to her. It was hard to make out what the abstract pictures portrayed and the static voice overs that played along with it was no help either. But Layan could pick out the men and women holding armed weapons in their hands, their attire complementary and their stature strong.
“These are the Ten,” Dekka declared as she walked towards Layan, noticing her intrigue towards the display that played before her. “Soldiers of war.”
Layan turned her attention to the older woman as she approached her, her frail gaze admiring the men and women that glitched on the podium. She had heard her mention the Ten before, but she could not help but wonder if the Tenakth worshiped them as deities like the Nora did with All-Mother.
“Their full truths are lost to us,” Dekka confessed, her voice filled with sorrow. “But as Chaplain, it is my duty to make sense of these Visions as best as I can.”
Layan furrowed her brows. “ Visions? ”
“Yes,” Dekka replied, her eyes studying Layan carefully before pivoting on her heel. “Come. You will see more of them along the way.”
Layan nodded and followed the older woman through the stronghold, her gaze taking a shine to all the holographic displays that they passed en route. But one stood out to her in particular and as she stopped still in her tracks, she stared at the flickering image, her feet drawing ever closer. She was able to pick out various plane models in the ‘Visions’, along with men and women dressed in full bodysuits, gliding alongside them. Layan had never seen anything like it.
“Ah, yes.” Dekka beamed, her grin wide as she approached the hologram that sparked Layan’s curiosity. “The Wings of the Ten.”
Layan fixed her eyes on the white-haired Chaplain, eager to hear the story behind the glitched images.
“As the Battle of the Mojave raged on, the Ten would often take to the skies and leap to glory as they descended onto the battlefield.” Dekka’s eyes glistened as she spoke, her gaze unwavering as her grin grew wider. “All Tenakth seek to emulate this gesture.”
A smile carved its way across Layan’s lips as she watched the older woman look at the courageous soldiers with the utmost respect. She had never understood the way people devoted themselves to detites or symbolic figures, for in her mind they were only emblems that people needed to release their burdens upon. And growing up in the harsh lands of the wild, Layan learned that no higher power would save her from the dangers that lurked outside Mother’s gates, for she needed to trust herself and free her own heart from its burdens and troubles. Nevertheless, Layan could not help but feel a sense of joy for the Tenakth, for they had found a great source of inspiration to look up to.
“They must mean a lot to you.”
Dekka blinked rapidly, almost forgetting that she was not alone and that someone was standing next to her. “Yes,” she breathed out, turning her attention towards Layan. “Their display of sheer bravery and honour are the backbone of our culture. The Ten’s morals have helped guide us through many struggles in the past and their triumphs and victories will continue to inspire generations that come forth.”
Layan glanced at the holographic images one last time, the words of respect and admiration that Dekka had spoken echoing in her head. The Tenakth really were soldiers at heart, a tightly woven family that fought alongside each other, just like the Ten. If only she had kinsfolk that embraced her flaws and imperfections, without persecution and a steadfast love.
“Come,” Dekka instructed as she tapped Layan’s shoulder, catching her attention. “Not far now.”
They travelled further into the stronghold, the stuttering voices echoing around them as they passed through the grand halls. Finally they came across a tall, curved entrance, both sides carved and sculpted into sharp spikes. The stone walls were adorned with blue, yellow and white paint, along with abstract patterns and irregular shapes. Layan could see the Chief’s throne from a distance, blue holographic wings flickering on either side. This must be his throne room.
“Chaplain,” the two guards hailed as they stood firm and saluted the white-haired woman.
Dekka placed her hand against her forehead, her palm faced down. “At ease, soldiers.”
The two Tenakth warriors placed their feet apart and put their hands behind their backs, awaiting for further instructions. And as Dekka beckoned Layan forth, she caught a glimpse of the two guards glaring at her, their eyes full of anger and spite. Walking around The Grove with Dekka had made her forget all about the resentment the Tenakth seemed to share towards outlanders. It had been a wonderful distraction to live in that paradise for a while. She would not make the same mistake again.
The throne room was vast and filled with generous space. Layan had somewhat expected the hall to be filled with trophies of the Chief’s greatest kills or a hoard of their most prized weapons. But neither was placed inside, for the only thing that adorned the ample space was the tall, stoned pillars draped with bushes of ivy plants and the jewels that hung over the caved ceiling, decorating the night sky.
Dekka guided her towards the centre of the hall before raising her hand and curling her fingers into a tight fist. “Wait here.”
Layan obeyed her command and watched as she walked up the painted steps before disappearing behind the winged hologram. Silence soon consumed the throne room as the burning firelights crackled around her. She let out an unintended yawn as she gazed her eyes across the hall, her lids feeling heavy and restless. Layan soon became aware of the large, blue painting that decorated the stoned floor around her. She did not understand the symbols but the layout resembled a map of some kind, perhaps the lay of the land. But before she could decipher the artwork any further, a deep-toned voice boomed as it entered the room.
“Step into the light, Nora, so that I may see you.”
Layan raised her head slowly as she looked at the man she had met moments before in the quarters where Kotallo was currently resting. Chief Hekarro . His broad shoulders and muscled chest were visible to her in the firelight, his rich, sepia brown skin glowing under the amber hue. From afar his yellow and blue attire stood out to Layan’s prying gaze, for it was the same colours that were decorated on the walls of the stronghold. But she became more intrigued with his mighty stature, an imagery that emulated the Ten in the holograms she had seen earlier.
Before she knew it, her feet were pulling her towards the bright spotlight underneath the steps of the dais. And as she drew closer, she pulled her hood a little more over her head, casting a dark shadow across her face.
Layan held her breath as she watched Hekarro’s gaze wander over her. She never liked being looked at, especially when others would stare at her with disdain, their gazes filled with mockery and shame. But Hekarro’s eyes showed something else, a sense of attentiveness and curiosity. It was peculiar but it did not frighten her.
“Your eyes are weary,” he said finally, his head tilted as he studied her.
Layan sighed, crossing her arms as she lowered her head. “I am fine.”
Hekarro waited for a moment, his eyes lingering on her for a while longer before walking towards his throne. He sat on the stone carved seat and rested his forearm against his thigh, below his woven kilt. “How is he?”
Layan twisted her lips, unsure if she should tell the Chief the truth. But for no reason that she could explain, she felt a pull to him, a feeling that she could trust him with such matters. Layan exhaled a deep breath and spoke.
“Distressed. Confused.” Layan shook her head as she remembered the way Kotallo had gasped for air, fighting for breath. She raised her head and glanced at the man before her. “But he will soon recover.”
Hekarro breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he lowered his gaze to the floor. He soon returned his attention back to her, curling his fingers into a fist and pounding it against his bare chest as he bowed deeply. “You have my thanks.”
Layan nodded, his sentiments felt.
The Chief raised his head, his eyes firm as they fell on Layan. “Though I must say, you have come at a convenient time. What brings you across the border and into Tenakth lands?”
Layan’s brows furrowed as she glanced to the side, her mind blank as she asked herself the same question. She had spent so much time in this foreign settlement that she had forgotten the reason she had come here in the first place. She casted her thoughts back to the ambush at Barren Light, remembering the Tenakth soldiers who fought fiercely with every breath before being cut down by enemy warriors. Varl was there too but he was also wounded in the ferocious battle. Nevertheless, that could not be the only reason she had come to this place.
Layan twisted her lips as she thought profusely, her mind flickering through past memories until she finally arrived at the answer. The reason she had travelled all the way from the East and into the Forbidden West. AETHER . One of the subordinate functions that had escaped from GAIA and hidden across the world. However, Layan did not trust the Chief enough to share such secrets with him, so instead she spoke carefully, hiding the true details of her mission.
“There is something here that I seek. Something hidden.” Layan revealed. “You can not see it with your own eyes but it is there—”
“I have seen it.”
Layan narrowed her eyes as she gazed at Hekarro. How did he know what she was after? Had AETHER made their presence known to him?
“And it is yours to take,” Hekarro declared before leaning forward in his seat. “But first you must do something for me.”
An irritated huff escaped through Layan’s lips as she shook her head. She knew this was coming. She knew that he would ask a favour from her that would keep her further tethered to this place. But Layan was not planning on letting the fates decide her future. Not if she could help it.
“I am not here to fight in your war,” she answered, her lips curled as she held her chin high. “I have already gotten involved more than I should have. I will go no further.”
“And yet it was you who came to Marshal Kotallo’s aid without being provoked. You who fought alongside my soldiers in the ambush at Barren Light.”
Layan scoffed, her brows furrowed and her lips pressed tightly together. “You will not twist my compassion into a motive to bring me further into your quarrels.”
“With my Marshals dead, Nora, I need your spear.” Hekarro persisted, his voice firm and unwavering. “And you have already proven you are capable of such a task, for my people speak of how you held back Regalla’s forces at Barren Light, defeating her champion, Grudda, in single combat.”
“I do not care what your people say about me. I am here to save lives. More than you can count!”
Hekarro rose from his seat, the firelight casting a large shadow over the painted steps. Layan had almost forgotten about the might of his stature for it was bold and dauntless.
“I count the corpses of Marshals slain.” The Chief declared, his voice enraged and anguished. “I count hundreds more Tenakth whose lives hang in the balance. I will fight for them. And so will you…If you want me to grant you access to that of which you seek.”
Layan felt her breath quicken, her fist clenched tightly beside her as she listened to the words uttered from Hekarro’s mouth. “So I am your prisoner here?”
Hekarro watched the woman in front of him, his gaze never leaving her as he descended down the steps, his figure towering over her as he stood in front of her.
“I see no shackles on your wrists, Nora. You are free to go when and as you please.” His voice was much lower now, his expression forbearing. “But if what you are after is as important as you claim, then is it wrong for me to keep it from you so that you may offer your assistance to us?”
Layan let out a defeated sigh, her gaze lowered as she shook her head. She knew he was right. Any leader would do what they must to ensure the safety of their people. Perhaps she could emphasize with his actions, for would she not have done the same to protect those she cared about? Nevertheless, it did not make it any less infuriating to find that she would be staying in this place a while longer.
Accepting her fate, she spoke. “What do you need me to do?”
Hekarro nodded in acknowledgement of her assistance and pounded his fist against his chest before bowing deeply.
“After Regalla attacked my soldiers at Barren Light, I am in need of more Marshals to keep the peace between the tribes.” The Chief answered, his eyes falling on the Nora. “Such warriors can only be promoted at a trial-by-combat known as the Kulrut. But knowing that Regalla is most likely to attack it, one of the clans has refused to send their contestants.”
Hekarro walked past Layan and stood in the centre of the blue painting that she had seen earlier. She followed his gaze and stared at the pink and blue symbol at the top of the map, emblems of mountains drawn beneath it.
“You must go north and force Tekotteh, the Commander of the Sky Clan, to submit and send his best.”
Layan raised her brow. “ Force him to submit? ”
“Do what you must,” Hekarro said slowly, his tone making her question how far he would want her to go just to achieve such a task. “Marshal Kotallo will guide you to the Sky Clan stronghold.”
Layan furrowed her brows hard, her eyes narrowed. “Kotallo is in no condition to travel.”
“And yet, he must.” Hekarro expressed, his tone revealing a sense of guilt. “He is the only Marshal I have and the only one who knows the lay of the land. He will assist you well.”
Layan lowered her head. She did not agree with his decision, for if they were to travel far into the mountains then she knew that Kotallo would struggle, his maimed arm suffering the icy-cold winds and frosty temperatures. But before she could continue to worry about the wounded warrior, she caught a glimpse of Hekarro stepping closer to her, his broad figure soaring over her as she felt the warmth of his breath across her face.
“And you, Nora, must rest.” The Chief murmured, his voice so low it did not echo across the hall as it did before.
Layan did not know why, but she found a sense of solace in his hazel gaze, her eyes feeling more frail and heavy, a reminder that she had been up for most of the day. She raised her brow. “Is that a request or an order?”
Hekarro did not respond to her riddled remark, instead raising his brows too, as an amused smile etched itself across his lips. He turned his attention towards the curved entrance and called out to the two guards that stood at their post. They soon came rushing into the grand hall, their posture firm as they saluted.
“ Kommda,” they said in unison as they waited for further instructions.
Hekarro nodded before speaking once more. “Guide the Nora to her quarters,” he returned his warm gaze towards Layan. “Make sure she is comfortable.”
Layan could hear the guards' irritated huffs behind her but she did not bother to worry about their disdain, for her eyes were on the Chief and his on her, their gazes studying the other as if they were trying to look beyond the mask the other held in front of them.
Hekarro soon broke their unwavering stare and pivoted on his heel. “Sleep well,” he said. And as he spoke, he walked back up the steps, disappearing through the blue holographic wings behind his throne and leaving Layan in the attentive care of his discourteous soldiers.
So much had happened in one day but she was grateful to have a place to rest, even if it was in the place she least wished to be in.