3A/N: Yes, I am finally back. It's been sooooo long cause I had so many tests and quizzes, and my grades weren't so good (well…they were okay, but if you knew me, they were terrible), and I got in trouble, and as a result I had to work really hard. But anyways, I'm back, and hopefully I'll get the third chapter up sooner…but maybe not cause I have full weekends of activities and fundraisers, and finals are coming up. But anyways, no more complaining, so I'll let you read. It might be a little fast paced, and I might be tempted to rewrite it sometime, but I doubt it would be for a while cause I'm sick of this chapter. It's been sitting around for a bit, and haunting me. A lot of stuff happens, so…bear with me. Anyways, R and R peeps! And I doubt this needs to be stated, but again no flames. Constructive criticism and suggestions are okay.
Pronounciations:
Durhaen: Dur-HAY-en
Rorrol: RO-rull
Part One: AWAKENING
Chapter 2: The City Man
4th Day of Arkil
The loud pounding on his front door echoed in his head, jarring him out of his uncomfortable slumber. Shai slowly opened his eyes, blinking to adjust them to the light, and groaning when the pain of his cramped muscles finally hit him. "Who's there?" He yelled in the general direction of the door, his lip curling in pain as he massaged his sore limbs.
"S'me! Royden!"
Sighing, Shai stifled a yawn and slowly rose to his feet, ignoring the pins and needles that ran down his long legs. He traversed the living room at snail pace, halting every few steps to wince as his muscles twinged before reaching the front door and flinging it open angrily. "What are you waking me up at this hour for?" He demanded upon seeing the grinning face of his friend. Royden shook his head and clucked his tongue disapprovingly.
"Tsk tsk Shai. I'm ashamed that you o'erslept."
"No I didn't…"
Royden held up a hand. "Say whatchya want. Tha's not gonna change the fact that it's near noon!"
"You've got to be kidding me." Shai arched an eyebrow skeptically, staring blankly at Royden's smile.
"Nope." His friend shook his head. "S'definitely noon."
"I can't have slept that long!"
"Well, appa'ently you did." Royden pushed past the tall boy, giving the messy room a cursory glance. He kicked a random article of clothing out of the way and casually sprawled out in a chair, coughing when a cloud of age-old dust billowed around his chestnut head. "Shai! When has this place been cleaned?" He demanded, waving his arms fanatically in front of his face to clear the air.
Shai snickered softly at his friend's comical appearance. "Not for a while it hasn't. You forget, I've been busy taking care of my…" He broke off abruptly, frowning for a moment. "Well, I was taking care of my mother."
"Yeah."
A long moment of silence passed between them, neither knowing exactly what to say. Royden debated whether or not to try and comfort his grief-stricken friend but the look on Shai's face discouraged that in a heartbeat. Instead he scratched inside of his forearm, hoping that the other boy would take the first word. It never came.
Shai stared out the open door for a moment longer before shutting it firmly, retreating to the comfort of the kitchen. After another weary mental war with himself, Royden stood up and followed the dark and silent boy, giving himself permission to sit down at the table. With small chuckle, he remembered how many times he and his brother Rylan had stormed the house and ended up sitting in that exact place. Shai shot an inquisitive look in his friend's direction, but asked nothing of the boy who had begun humming to himself.
Finally, unable to stand the excruciating awkwardness, Royden coughed. "So…what are ya gonna do 'bout this hyar sale?"
"What sale?" Shai whirled around from his position in front of the open window, confusion emanating from his arched eyebrows. Royden gave him a dumbfounded stare, completely taken by surprise at Shai's ignorance.
"The sale you was proposin' so's t'git rid of some o' the stuff in yer house that you doesn't need, an'...t'git rid o' some o' yer Mammy's belongin's."
"Oh. Yeah." Shai finally snapped back to life and comprehension, proceeding to pull out a number of wooden crates. Royden watched quietly, amazed as his friend pulled various boxes and trinkets from the shelves and piled them into the crates in a jumbled mess.
"Um…Shai?"
"Not now Royden." The tall dark boy shot back, his tone of voice clearly showing that he was not about to slow down and play nice. "Are you just going to sit there?"
"No but…"
"Then help me out."
Royden folded his arms and gave Shai a stern look, for once actually appearing his age. "I've been tryin' t'tell you that shovelin' ev'rythin' into a crate ain't the bess idea. You knows the folk hyar doesn't like searchin' through messes. You'd best sort it out. I'll help." Grabbing the nearest crate he turned it upside down and sifted through the items with a vigorous fervor. After a moment Shai followed his friend's lead.
"What's this?"
"That would be a vase Royden."
"Oh." Royden chuckled softly, replacing the item into a crate. "Don't look like no vase...but what's this?" He held up a long hollow tube and looked through it like a spyglass, leaning in closer to Shai just to annoy him.
Shai lifted his eyes from his work for a moment. "Mom's beating stick." He answered, not missing a beat.
"What?!"
"I was just kidding. That was mom's water thing. I don't actually know how she used it...but I see you think it's fun to play with."
Royden nodded his head, continuing the pirate charade. "Arr...ya knows me all t'well."
"Yeah. I would say so. Can we get back to work? You were the one who suggested we sort through the mess I had started to create."
"Yes, yes, o'course...sorry, I gots a little...sidetracked." He pretended to pout melodramatically before putting it into a crate with other odds and ends. Just as he was about to pick a small flowerpot from out of the pile, a flash caught his eye"Hey, you sellin' this?" Royden asked, holding up a small object for Shai to see. It was an intricately carved box, the markings crisscrossing and intertwining like dancing snakes around six inlaid stones. Each face and markings of the cube-shaped box was a different color and corresponded to the color of the stones. Shai's eyes lit up in memory of it. It was his mother's "special box" but to the best of his knowledge, he had never seen her open it no matter how much he and his brother had begged her.
Shai shook his head. "No. Keep it. I kind of like it, but I don't know what the markings mean."
"Did yer mammy know?"
"No. She didn't know how to read them either." He replied quietly, taking the small box from Royden's hand and turning it over gently. As he tilted it back and forth the single blood-red stone inlaid on the red face of the box captured the rays of sunlight that streamed through the open window of the kitchen, glowing with a luminescent fire.
All of a sudden the box shuddered in his hand, the wood becoming warmer to the touch. With a startled yelp Shai threw it down, his eyes widening in surprise when the strange marks started moving as if they were alive. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Frowning, Shai squinted and then rubbed them roughly, but they were not fooling him; through the flashing brilliance the carved markings were certainly shifting.
"What in the world…" He stopped short as the red, glowing carvings arranged themselves into his name. Shaius…
"What's wrong?" Royden was at his side in a flash, craning his long neck to see what Shai was making a fuss about. Shai's breath was coming in short gasps, his mouth opening and closing like a fish's as the markings proceeded to spell out the rest of his name. Zalunekus…
"D-d-did y-you see it?" He demanded to the chestnut haired boy, gesturing widely towards the offending box that was still arranging itself to form another word. Royden looked extremely perplexed, tossing only a casual glance to the box.
"What?" Royden shrugged. "There's nothin' wrong wif it. What's gotcha all worked up Shai?"
The dark haired boy shook his head nervously. "No. The box…it's spelling out my name…the markings are shifting…"
"I don't reckon so. They look purdy no'mal t'me. Nothin' appears t'have moved."
Shai didn't hear him for the markings were spelling out letters now. A…V…O…R…His mind registered what the word was far before it completed the word. Heart pounding in his ribcage, Shai tore his eyes from it and looked beseechingly towards his friend. "I'm telling you Royden! It's moving!"
"Don't be foolish," Royden stated, picking up the small box and carelessly tossing it down. "I don't see what's the matter."
"You don't?" Shai asked, his eyes flicking back and forth between Royden's skeptical expression and the glowing box. "You don't see it glowing? Or my name?"
Royden rolled his eyes. "NO. We already covered this. I don't see anythin'."
Shai sighed heavily, utterly bewildered at his predicament. He was completely convinced that he wasn't seeing things, yet a shred of doubt had infiltrated his troubled mind. What if Royden was right and there was nothing wrong…what if his uncomfortable sleep was making him hallucinate?
Shrugging it off and muttering a quick 'nevermind,' Shai idly scratched at his chin, which had become covered with coarse stubble, and placed another object into a pile, forcing himself not to think about what had happened.
But as the minutes waned, Shai found it increasingly difficult to keep the searing image from his mind. Try as he might to force the even to the back of his head, the glowing marks always seemed to worm its way into his thoughts. Why could he see the shifting marks and Royden could not? Questions, questions, questions, that was all he seemed to have, but none of them had answers yet. Two whole hours went by without him even noticing it, for he was utterly and completely lost in the confused tangle of thoughts that was his mind.
"Come on lazy chops." Royden clapped Shai soundly on the shoulder, breaking him out of his contemplation. Shai's energetic friend had obviously forgotten all about the box during the two long hours through which they had been sorting…something that Shai almost envied him. "Let's go put this stuff outside."
"Oh. Okay."
With Royden's help, Shai hauled small tables outside, arranging his "wares" on their scuffed surfaces. Upon them, the various objects Shai had selected for selling actually looked worthy of purchase.
There was something about sales that warranted special attention in Kirrith and had both women and men alike flocking to it like a tittering swarm of bees to a field full of flowers. Villagers from both ends of the village turned up the moment Shai began setting up his sale. Drab figures in earth tones of green, brown, and gray slowly weaved their way between the tables, looking over what had been placed there. Mothers fingered scraps of material and shot cursory glances at little children, ideas for new clothing forming in their minds. Fathers handled jars of jam and preserved fruit, ignoring the furious looks from their wives who took their actions as offense to their own jam.
Shai set the last crate down, scanning over the gathering crowd with a surprisingly calm eye. Many took the opportunity to approach him and name their price for whatever they desired, not forgetting to include their condolences for the unfortunate loss of his mother.
"Doin' purdy well I take it." Royden grinned as he came up beside his dark friend, striking a comical stance with his hands upon his hips. "Lots o' people showed their faces this hyar mo'nin."
"You can say that again." Shai offered a small smile of his own, his eyes taking another sweep of his small sale. Shai noticed the man from the moment he approached the small cottage. The stranger was dressed in brighter colors and finer clothes that immediately set him apart from the common villagers. His gait was measured and smooth, gathering grace about him like one would don a cloak.
Passing by the other browsers, the stranger moved towards the pile of odds and ends where Shai had put various books and papers. The man's fingers idly passed over a few items, his keen eyes seeming to identify any true worth. With the experienced air of a treasure hunter, the city stranger turned on his heel and went to investigate another crate, pointedly ignoring the evil glares and sharp comments thrown his way.
It almost surprised Shai to see how much like everyone else the city man looked like. With all the terrible stories he had heard about city folk he had expected some horribly deformed creature, or at least a horned, three-eyed beast with fangs. However, this man appeared fairly normal. He was of average height with a rather pointed chin, a curly mop of brown hair, and a neatly kept goatee. The man's loose-fitting tunic and pants hid spindly arms and legs that he was very embarrassed of, and thus took great pains to conceal. The man's dark eyes were bright and darted back and forth quickly and silently, taking everything into awareness.
Shai was so wrapped up in observing the peculiar customer that he didn't feel Dame Bargin tugging at his sleeve. "How much fo' the vase dearie?"
Startled out of his observation, Shai quickly glanced down upon the wrinkled old lady. She was a kindly soul, and known for always being the first to any sale. Her beady, calculative eyes silently demanded an answer to her question even before she repeated it as if Shai hadn't heard her the first time, which truth be told, he hadn't.
"Uh…six drees." He mumbled, patiently waiting while the good dame counted out the small bronze coins into his hand. "Nice to have seen you." He called to her retreating back while she shuffled home, new prize clutched against her fiercely. Shai watched her for a bit longer before resuming his sneaky spying on the city man, who now appeared very excited about something.
Overcome with curiosity, Shai made his way over, pausing uncertainly as he neared the stranger. "Can I help you?"
Turning abruptly, the richly-garbed man almost jumped out of his skin when he heard Shai's voice. "My goodness…you startled me." The man smiled slightly and swept a graceful bow, making Shai feel awkward and ungainly. "Name's Dorian Durhaen. Merchant and traveler."
"Oh." Shai paused to wait for Dorian to inquire who he was, but the city merchant showed no interest in finding out Shai's name. Instead he held up what he had been exalting over, which turned out to be the special storybook.
"I was astounded to find this here!" Dorian prattled high-spiritedly. "This is remarkable! It's exquisite! How much?"
Shai regarded the book for a moment and was about to speak when a voice cut him off. "He ain't sellin' that." Royden stood with his arms crossed, glaring daggers at the alienated merchant. What right did this man have to Shai's special book?
"100 drees." Shai said in a clipped tone, ignoring the gasp from his chestnut haired friend. He had made up his mind, having the storybook was too painful a memory to keep in his home. So what if he was dealing with his grief in a strange way…getting rid of memories instead of preserving them…Shai couldn't care less. He was numbing himself to pain.
"Done."
"What?! No. Shai!" Royden protested. "At least give him 200 fer it. It was his mammy's."
Dorian arched an eyebrow delicately, but said nothing on the cost. "What may I ask happened to her?"
"She died o' the fevah."
"Oh. I see." The faintest flicker of emotion passed beneath the cool mask of the city man. "I'll offer 150 drees then."
"But I said…" Royden frowned in confusion.
"Tut, tut. 150 is my final offer."
Shai nodded stonily. "I'll take it."
With a disdainful shrug Dorian tossed him a small bag of coins, casting an admiring glance to the book's cover. A small pang burst in Shai's heart when he realized the good old storybook was his no longer, but he ignored it.
"What are you going to do now that your mother is gone?" Dorian asked casually.
"Um…I'm not very sure…I haven't given much thought to it." Shai answered truthfully, lowering his eyes from Dorian's attentive gaze. "I'm just a common fisherman and hunter."
Dorian scrutinized the dark-skinned young man before shrugging. "With the way you talk I'd say otherwise. You were born here in Kirrith?"
"Yes. I've lived here all my life."
"And your mother?"
Shai thought for a moment. His mother had mentioned a city near the border between Malden and Zulen. What was it again? "Uh…my mother mentioned a city to the northeast called…Rorrol?"
A glimmer of recognition flickered in Dorian's eyes. "Ah…Rorrol. I expected your family came from the city. You speak well…no village accent tainting your words." Shai heard the bitter contempt hidden in the rich layers of Dorian's voice, a small spark of anger lighting in his heart.
"I've never really noticed an accent."
"Really?" Dorian looked slightly confused, as if he couldn't comprehend how Shai did not pay much attention to something so important as accents. "I'd have thought you would. Accents always give away a person's origins. One can tell if a person is from a village. Has to do with their dreadful dropping of letters. Shows their lack of education."
"I don't think it's wise to speak of that around here." Shai glowered, folding his arms menacingly. Getting the message, Dorian paled and quickly switched topic.
"Well, if you don't know what to do you can always enlist in the army. They're taking volunteers nowadays in Zheden…"
"Oh so mo'e innercent people kin die on account o' of yer stoopid war." Royden interrupted suddenly, his face absolutely livid. He had taken all the comments about villagers in silence, but this was the last straw.
"They choose to join! It's not our fault!"
"Whose war is it? It's not the villagers that wanna fight! It's the cities that fight among themselves, the cities that have technology, the KING that overtaxes us an' declares the stoopid wars. We villagers, we is simple yessuh, we don't own nought, but we appreciate an' enjoy peace, an' be wantin' t'keep it that way." Royden yelled. All around them the other villagers turned heads towards the eldest Finch son, chorusing their agreement and hatred for the war.
Thought he wasn't always the brightest bulb in the city, and saying all those comments about villagers in a village was a perfect example of this, Dorian Durhaen knew when to quit while he was…sort of ahead.
"Uh…most sorry to trouble you." He squeaked, forcing on a pained smile. "But do think about it."
"Yeah. Whatever." Shai pursed his lips grimly. "I think you better leave while the going's good. Y'know, the villagers aren't too keen on being polite to…city folk."
Dorian let out a weak chuckled and turned on his heel (still gracefully), and fled as fast as he could from the cottage towards the horse and cart he had tied to Shai's fence. Spurring the horse into motion, he was gone from sight faster than anyone could have imagined. The moment he and his brightly colored garments disappeared, the villagers of Kirrith let out a roaring cheer for the brave son of Mrs. Finch who had "spoken like a true man an' defended the right minds of the villagers." In their eyes, any who stood up to the likes of the city trash was a downright plucky fellow.
Shai retreated to his doorway, watching the circle of villagers crowd in on Royden, patting him on the back, pinching his cheeks, and generally treating him like a hero of sorts. The longer the regaling went on, the louder the question in the recess of his mind spoke, and Shai couldn't help but wonder: Am I doomed to be an outsider for the rest of my life?
A/N: Finished! Ah, the wonderful feeling to have finished two chapters and a prologue. Meh. I know they all need work, but I'm forcing myself not to go back and rewrite anymore until I finish the story. Then I can go back and edit to my fickle heart's delight. But anyways, I was going to shove more stuff into this chapter, but then saw it was pretty loaded up already with strange occurrences and strangers that I decided to cut the chapter in half, and attack it that way. Dorian is such an interesting character...he might pop up later, if he so chooses. I try to write a charater one way, but they always never behave and turn into something else. He was supposed to be an old weezy geezer with a girlish voice, but Dorian beat out that chap (thank god). I don't know if anyone has noticed yet, cause I haven't introduced many of the minor village charries, but they all have…eheheh…strange names. If you're extremely clever, you'll pick up on names of people and laugh over the stupidity of my cheesy humor. Like the two brothers who are hunters: Chase and Keal. I have a tendency to play around with names and symbolism. It amuses me. I happen to like Chase and Keal. Think about it people. They're hunters. If you still don't get it, read their names out loud (Keal rhymes with Neal). But of course, that's just a heads up for the next chapter. Thanks to those that reviewed! And R and R peeps, just to keep me happy. I'm working on chapter 3 right now. And with Mai bugging me…well, it'll be finished sooner.
Preview for next Chapter: "Shai nodded slowly and stood, poised and ready to half-heartedly blow out his birthday candles. But as he leaned forward, the flickering fire in front of him suddenly twisted out of their normal teardrop shape. Wide-eyed he watched as the flames folded into themselves, meshing together and curling to form the fiery and unmistakable shape of a phoenix…"
Shoutouts:
Shixa Goddess: Thanks for your review. And I understand where you're coming from regarding the accents. I know they are hard to follow, but I think I'm going to keep them that way. It's kinda hard to exactly explain what their accent sounds like…I mean, I have a pretty good idea what they sound like in my head, but I can't exactly project that into people's heads through Jedi Mind tricks. So the accents are going to stay. But I hope that doesn't deter you from the ficcie. People from different villages have different accents, so for the most part it'll be easier to follow in that regard. Thanks for the suggestion however, and thanks again for your review.