Solo The Shifting of the World

[Oresnya Cacao]

Spring the 28th, 519 AV

Oresnya was dreaming of the sea, an unending expanse of blue that was ever in motion. Even on the stillest of days, the perpetual rise and fall of the waves left one feeling never alone. But aboard The Bonnie Dot, Oresnya could never feel alone. The crew was family, and they never seemed to let any of themselves forget it.

Everyone was on deck today, enjoying the clear skies and the sunshine that had accompanied the breaking of a several day long storm. Malto’s half-bald head with a rim of white hair could be seen talking in hushed tones to Zek who was manning the helm of the ship that carried the name of his sister and the name of his family. Bernard and Jon were peeling potatoes in preparation for the evening meal, so the latter of the two could begin cooking soon. Oresnya was doing her best to distract Jon by stealing peels and then flinging them at him when he wasn’t looking. Even when she wasn’t being intentionally distracting, she still managed to draw his attention, and she caught him more times than one stealing glances at her.

Alika and Shektl were sparring as they always seemed to be doing. Alika was a fine warrior, for a human, but Shektl never let him forget that he was just human. As a Myrian, war was her existence. The shedding of blood ran in her veins, and no matter how impressive Alika was, Shektl always seemed one step ahead. Already, Alika had ended up on his backside several times and, at the moment, was being hoisted back up to his feet by the superior warrior. Both were allowing their bronzed skin to catch as much of the sun’s rays as possible while it lasted. Alika was bare chested, and Shektl was not much more clothed than that. So exposed, Oresnya could appreciate the wild tapestry of scars that spread across the entirety of her torso. Only two of those were from combat. The rest had been carefully selected and deliberately placed by Shektl herself or one of her family in the tradition of her clan. There was an art to it, alluring but haunting. Most tended to accentuate the hard angles the muscles of her body created.

Eleazar kept his watch in the crow’s nest, his piercing Benshira eyes as clear and as blue as the sky itself. Cloudless as it was, this day allowed him to see as far as his eyes could and let him imagine he could see to the end of the world, to whatever lay beyond the horizon. He was the youngest sailor The Dot had, and no one else let him forget it. But that never dragged his spirits down, and Oresnya swore he was still wearing the same smile he had been wearing the day they met. Even sleep couldn’t seem to wipe it off his face.

Even Vristara was up on the bow. Usually the healer spent most of her time below deck, pouring over her notes and the journals she had collected from other doctors so she could perfect her craft. That, and often Captain Zek hid her below deck to keep her from slipping up and revealing she was what she was, a Vantha, a hunted thing, that was anywhere but here and her native home of Avanthal. On rare days, days like these ones where there was no one else about and they could be sure no one could approach them and catch them unaware, Zek let her enjoy the open air the way she had before the days of absent winter. Her hair, streaked with hints of an aurora’s blue, whipped about her head in the healthy gusts of ocean wind. Too often, recently, it had to remain under a headwrap that kept that particular secret hidden away. Her eyes shone the brilliant purplish pink they shone when she was happy, and Oresnya smiled at that. Zek had instilled in her the necessity of a life lived in absolute fear. It kept her eyes the brilliant, somber blue they had held when Oresnya first met her. Still, there were times like these when everyone let their guard down, everyone but Alika and Shektl, and enjoyed the relative stillness.

The only two who weren’t on deck were in the water, swimming playfully alongside a pod of dolphins. Ularu and Ayar were Charodae and, as such, were most comfortable in the water. That didn’t mean they weren’t excellent sailors. If they had to be out of water, they preferred to do so on a ship, and they were the most experienced hands on The Bonnie Dot. Occasionally, Oresnya could spy their outlines just beneath the surface of the water, dancing intricately with the other things of the sea.

There was no more peaceful place than the ocean in its calm, but Oresnya knew too that there was nothing more frightening and powerful than the sea in a rage. On one side of her was the coastline, broken occasionally by the deceptive calm of sandy beaches with waves that fell lackadaisically on them. Beyond that calm, in the green that swept as far inland as she could see, beneath the unbroken canopy, creatures more dangerous than any Oresnya had experienced in Kalinor lurked. To the other side was the unending blue of the ocean, reflecting in its glittery ways Syna’s daylight.

And beneath it all were the waves. Their ever-present rise and fall became a thing of comfort and stability to those who called the ocean home. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Once one had found their sea legs, the unmoving earth of dry land felt uneven. Up and down, up and down, up and down. It was the rhythm of the life, the rise and fall of the chest of the world as it breathed and met every new moment it faced, the thrilling surge of the pulse its veins. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Malto had once told her that the ocean never changed, that it was as old as time itself, that it would last until time itself came to a halt. One thing he had always said was that the day the ocean stopped its rise and fall would be the day the world itself ended. So to Oresnya, the rise and fall, the up and down, became a firm reminder that the world was still here, and she relished every chime of it. Up and down, up and down, up and-


Side to side. Oresnya bolted upright in her hammock as it swayed back and forth. The stark contrast of her dimly lit room from open sun on the sea was jarring at first, but her Symestra eyes quickly adjusted. She was in her cavern home in the Darniva Common Rooms. Whatever had shaken her had done so violently, and her hammock swung her toward the wall of room. Instinctually, her hand shot out, and as the flat of her palm slapped against the wall, hairs too fine to see extended out and buried themselves in the wall. Her side to side motion stopped, but she felt the tremor through the rough stone walls and was reminded of the tremors that had been shaking Mt. Skyinarta for the last week. This one was different. While the ones before had been slight trembling, this one was violent and continued longer than the others had.

Mt. Skyinarta had stood for as long as anyone in the mountain cared to mention, and the few times she had asked about its origins, Oresnya had been led to believe it had always existed. That gave her some comfort, but as the tremors began, a different sort of look came across the eyes of most Inarta. She recognized it easily. Fear. It was something she had not seen in her first season in Wind Reach, but at the return of the lost Endal and the news that something could hunt a Wind Eagle, it had been obvious in every Inarta’s eyes. Suddenly, everything that was once certain for them was that no longer.

She kept her hand against the wall until the trembling subsided. This one lasted much longer than the others. While the first ones had been many ticks, this one spanned a couple chimes. Sighing, Oresnya swung her legs over her hammock and dropped out of it to the floor, bending her knees as she hit to soften her landing.

[Oresnya Cacao]

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Oresnya wandered over to the washbasin she’d bought earlier in the season. It was the day they had learned of the beast that had hunted and killed an Endal and a Wind Eagle. Perhaps her most conniving moment since she had arrived, her purchase of the piece had been calculated, approaching the seller only when his mind was completely focused on something else. Otherwise, she would have been on the wrong end of a bad deal. Instead, she had got it for a reasonable asking price, something that hardly ever happened due to what she was, an unwelcome thing.

The nearly lightless aspect of her home meant there was no sunlight to warm her water by. As she splashed some against her face, the frigid water made her catch her breath. Despite the unpleasantness of it, she enjoyed the refreshing, invigorating aspect. She was awake now.

Stripping out of the leggings she had worn yesterday and the vinati she used as a sleeping garment, she bathed as quickly as she could with a rag dampened in the washbasin. When she was finished and dry, she selected a clean pair of leggings, slipped them on, and began the long process of wrapping herself in the long silk strip that became her top every day.

Each length of fabric was deliberately and carefully placed. Its care was multipurpose. First, it was to avoid bunching of the cloth. While the fabric was a gentle one, unwanted folds of cloth pressed against the body for a full day could cause discomfort both for one’s skin and one’s muscles. Secondly, the care she took with it kept her from appearing disheveled. It kept her sharp looking and presentable, and with everyone ready to despise her simply for existing, she didn’t want to give them any more reasons. When she finished tying the bow at the back of her waist, she rubbed her tired eyes once more as she stumbled across her apartment to the door. Maybe she wasn’t as awake as she had thought she was.

Breathing in deeply through her nose, she bottled all the pent up frustrations this city brought her and let them out with the air as it escaped through her mouth. A beaming smile spread across her lips, and she opened the door.

He was waiting. He was always waiting, every morning. The people of Wind Reach didn’t trust her, so they had someone monitoring her whereabouts every moment of the day. But she was certain this was more to punish him than it was to punish her. He’d done something to irk one of the higher ups, and this was the consequence of whatever he had done.

Her smile brightened a little more. “Good morning, Bob.”

His whole demeanor fell when he saw her, and a heavy, defeated sigh emphasized that. “I was hoping you had died.”

“Oh, don’t say that. You came and waited for me.”

“I have to. Every day until the day you die.”

Oresnya’s smile beamed even brighter. “But you’ll still be waiting for me that morning, too.”

Bob sighed again and nodded. “I suppose. Morning, Widow.”

“It’s good morning, Bob.”

He rolled his eyes. “If you insist.”

Oresnya smiled victoriously. That conversation had developed over the first several weeks of Oresnya’s time in Wind Reach, and once it had reached this point, it had become their morning tradition. It was their way of acknowledging that neither of them wanted this, but both were going to make the best of it. Bob was not the man’s given name, but he had refused to give her his name when she had asked. Left with nothing to call him, she gave him a name. It began as Robert, but after their little tradition began, Robert sounded too formal, too stuffy. So she had shortened it to Bob.

Locking the door, she turned back toward Bob and noticed the hallway was empty. It hadn’t always been that way. This had once been a busy corridor of the Darniva Commonrooms with nearly every apartment there occupied, but it had only taken a week of Oresnya being there for the hall to become a miniature ghost town. At first, unveiled threats had been delivered to her at her doorstep, but they were empty. Everyone wanted her gone, but no one wanted to be the one to do it. Not to mention, whatever rumors circulated among the Inarta regarding Symenestra gave Oresnya a sense that they all thought she was dangerous in a way she would never fully comprehend, and that sense was enough to provide her some small amount of protection from those who would wish harm on her. Soon, she had made it apparent enough that she intended to stay, and bit by bit, the Inarta trickled out.

In a way, the peace was welcome, because Oresnya never had to question whether her neighbors hated her enough to kill her. But she had selected the corridor, because it was so well populated. In an effort to ingratiate herself with the Inarta so they would help her in her search for Yora’s kin and friends, she had hoped to show that was harmless, even friendly, but her neighbors had never given her the chance. She sighed her own defeated sigh at the sight.

“Empty hall,” she whistled in Nari.

Bob just grunted in return. He was feeling very conversational this morning, and Oresnya had learned not to pester him at times like these.

Their footsteps fell, and even as soft as they were, they echoed lightly off the hewn stone walls of the empty corridor. That was something Oresnya had had to get used to in her transition into Wind Reach. Though long removed from her cavern home of Kalinor by several years, she still remembered the way sounds moved there and how the delicate, silk cobweb roadways muted all travel. Though the expansive open caverns of Kalinor offered plenty of perfected acoustic to enhance all sound within, the gently curved architecture of the buildings themselves and the fact they were so strewn with silks served to mute sound. In Wind Reach, the effect was quite the opposite. The hard, stubborn people had carved their life into the rocky mountain, and the resulting architecture left sound free to travel as it wished. Often Oresnya found herself following a noise that originated from what felt like halfway across the city.

“To Felicity’s Fabrics then,” she muttered, more to herself than him.

Another grunt followed.

It didn’t take them long to reach one of the three large main halls that connected all the apartments of the Darniva Commonrooms. Once there, activity increased dramatically. Wind Reach was a place that thrived, because all its citizens contributed. Naturally, then, as the day began, there was a flood of Chiet from the Commonrooms as they moved on their way to their jobs. There was no way for Oresnya not to be noticed for what she was, but that didn’t stop her from trying to be cordial with the people she passed. Giving each one a smile and chipper, whistled good morning, she attempted to be a source of joy in their day. Her efforts didn’t go unnoticed, but the reactions she received were quite the opposite of what she was looking for, mostly just glares but the occasional ‘petch off’ was not uncommon.

Just outside of Felicity’s Fabrics, she made the mistake of greeting an Endal in the same fashion. With a glare, the woman caught Oresnya by the front of her wrapped top and shoved her against the nearest wall. A small amount of satisfaction arose inside her when she saw Bob move forward to intervene before he remembered his place. He felt responsible for her in more ways than keeping her from causing harm. A small part of him wanted to keep her from harm as well.

“You don’t talk to me unless I give you permission, Widow.” Holding up a pair of bryda, the Endal shoved them into the Symenestra’s hands. “Give these to Felicity and tell her I expect them to be repaired by this evening.”

Oresnya nodded her understanding. What little bit of the Nari she could catch gave her a good enough idea as to what was said. She didn’t wish to bring on any further derision by speaking, so she turned toward the door for the shop, only to be stopped by the Inarta’s voice once more.

“Oh, and Widow, the only time you will touch my clothing is to hand it to an Inarta. Understand?”

She nodded again before slipping inside. Felicity was waiting and took the bryda out of Oresnya’s hands before she could speak.

The shop owner’s Nari chirped out slowly, so Oresnya could comprehend. Felicity had found it was easier than repeating herself a dozen times. “I heard what she said. I’ll take this from here. I have nothing for you today, Widow. You’ll have to make yourself useful elsewhere.”

Not wanting to spend half the day searching for work only to be turned away at every door, Oresnya tried to create a use for herself here. “I could weave.”

Felicity’s initial greeting had been cordial, as far as any greeting to Oresnya went, but the pleasant tone left her voice when she had to repeat herself. “I have nothing for you. You’ll have to look elsewhere.”

This was not something that was up for debate, and as an Avora, Felicity was her superior. Oresnya nodded and turned toward the door, nearly running into Bob as she did.

[Oresnya Cacao]

Opening the door, Oresnya held it, so Bob could follow her back out. She began wandering her way toward the Infirmary, as she had found work there several of the times Felicity had sent her away for the day. She had been turned away just as many times, but the work there felt important. They had only been traveling through the halls less than a quarter bell when a Chiet with a bow ran up to the pair. For the briefest moment, Oresnya thought the woman was there for her, that somehow Oresnya had done something to get herself in trouble, but the woman brushed past her and began to talk in hushed tones to Bob.

Oresnya was about to push on, but Bob stopped her with a quick ‘Wait, Widow.’

She did as she was bidden, trying to listen to what passed between the two Chiet. The Nari would have been hard enough to catch at a normal volume with how quickly it was delivered. By the tone, Oresnya could tell it was rushed, not quite panicked but uneasy. Still, at the near whisper, she caught not a single word. Waiting while the conversation continued, she muttered Nari words to herself to keep occupied. When both Bob and the other Inarta went silent and glared at her suspiciously, Oresnya went silent for the remainder of their conversation. Bob’s responses, or at least the tone of his voice and rising volume of each subsequent one, said he was not pleased this Chiet had come to look for him and that he was uneasy about whatever it was she was uneasy about.

Finally, he broke away from the woman and returned to Oresnya’s side. “Listen, Widow. There was a landslide this morning, and it blocked part of the Sanikas Road. They need Chiet to protect the Dek while they work at clearing it. I’ve got to go. So make sure you stay out of trouble. I can’t have anything you do coming back on me.”

Oresnya shrugged. “I’ll help the Dek. You can watch me and protect them.”

“You don’t want to do that.” The way he’d phrased that sounded like he wanted to protect her from something.

“Why not?”

“Because then you’d be outside.”

“I like air.” Oresnya couldn’t think of the word for fresh but was certain her point got through anyhow.

Bob shook his head, frustrated that she wasn’t understanding what he was trying to warn her about. “The beast. It’s out there.”

“Is that not why… you will be there?” Forming questions in Nari was difficult at best for Oresnya. “To protect, yes?”

Bob rolled his eyes and shrugged, then gestured for her to follow him and the woman who had come for him. “Come along then. If you want to take the risk, I’m sure no one is going to stop you. No one wants to.”

“They will like me out.”

Bob nodded in agreement and followed the other Chiet down the hall. Watching the two, Oresnya couldn’t help but notice the similarities between them. Both were built powerfully, light and lithe in a way that tended only to accentuate their fiery beauty. While almost every Inarta had red hair, the exact hue of these two matched. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have thought they were brother and sister, but as she watched the two walk down the hall together, she got the feeling that they were much closer than siblings. Despite their fear, there was a hefty amount of playful shoving and whispered jokes that went beyond a warm camaraderie. Oresnya suspected they were lovers, though that didn’t rule out the possibility they were unwittingly siblings or cousins.

Another bell had them walking through the Sanikas Gates. Oresnya poked her head into Val’s abode to flash him a quick smile and whistled ‘good morning’ before ducking out into the sun.

Sunshine! By the God, she loved sunshine and fresh air. The wind that assaulted the mountain was something she missed as well. All of it reminded her of the open ocean, and she prayed to Viratas for the safety of her second family. Not that the ocean was always bathed in sun light, but it had its moments of unforgettable glory. It had had its fair share of moments that had made Oresnya want to bury herself in the deepest caverns for the rest of her life, just so she’d never have to leave the safety of solid earth again.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the slide. A sizeable amount of rubble had cascaded down the mountainside, covering the Sanikas Road with rocks ranging from pebbles to boulders. It was passable by people, though the footing was unsteady and the instability of it all meant it was dangerous enough to shift again, enough to cause another slide.

There were already a couple dozen Dek working at the removing the rubble while they were watched over by Chiet who had posted up at rocky outcroppings a little further up the road. Bob and the other Chiet broke away while Oresnya continued on down to the workers. As she picked up a shoulder yoke with a sturdy wicker basket on each end, a familiar face emerged from the Dek, beaming a smile Oresnya’s direction. The Dek pointed at her own eye, then Oresnya’s direction, before smiling again.

Oresnya returned the gesture. “Yes, Eshryd. It’s good to see you.”

[Oresnya Cacao]

Eshryd’s smile brightened. It didn’t take large compliments to make a Dek feel good. In fact, a simple, genuine ‘good morning’ tended to work wonders if one needed something from a Dek. But for Eshryd, Oresnya didn’t have to pretend. She was the first person aside from Val Imsun to treat her with kindness after her entry into Wind Reach. Maybe that was just because Oresnya had shown her a kindness not usually shown to Dek. Either way, Oresnya felt she had a friend, whatever little good it could do her. Eshryd was mute, so conversations with her were pretty one-sided, and the woman was a Dek which meant she had no pull that could help Oresnya find Yora’s family.

Friends don’t become your friends because of the influence they hold over others, Oresnya reminded herself. Friends existed, because they liked her and she liked them. And Oresnya did like the mute Inarta. She held a sense of wonder few people did. The simple tales Oresnya told from her childhood kept the Dek captivated. There was innocence that remained despite the abuse the Inarta had suffered that should have shattered it.

Wandering over to the slide where a swarm of Dek were busy, Oresnya set her yoke down and stood next to Eshryd, staring at the pile and wondering where to begin. Eshryd, seeing her hesitance, pointed to the smaller rocks around the periphery and then to the baskets. The Dek picked up where she had left off when Oresnya had arrived. Eshryd bent and scooped her hands under a rock that was about as big as her upper torso. Muscles stood out across her shoulders and arms as she stood straight up, took it to her own basket and laid it gently down in.

Oresnya attempted the same, selecting a rock as big as the one Eshryd had. Sliding her fingers under its edges, the Symenestra felt the rough surface dig into the soft skin of her hands. This was not the kind of work she was accustomed to, though she had seen plenty of hard labor on The Dot. It was sad to her how soft she had grown in the space of a season and a half. With a mighty surge of effort, Oresnya pulled against the little boulder. Her small muscles strained beneath her skin, and her body worked in unison, legs pushing upward, shoulders drawing back, and arms pulling toward her chest.

It didn’t budge.

Oresnya tried once more with similar results. It was too heavy. She turned to find Eshryd watching her with a beaming smile, gently squinted eyes, head tilted back, and her mouth open. If the Dek had a voice, Oresnya knew she’d be laughing right now. The Inarta reached out and squeezed Oresnya’s upper arm, then held up her other hand with her first two fingers held close together, indicating small.

It wasn’t meant to be insulting, but Oresnya was frustrated and glared. Eshryd’s smile suddenly fell away, realizing she had mocked a higher caste member. Quickly, the Dek cast her gaze to the ground and waited for some sort of punishment to come. Oresnya hadn’t meant to frighten her friend, but it had happened. The Symenestra looked to the other Dek for help in calming Eshryd, but they all had the same terrified looks on their faces, expecting some sort of retribution to come, whether verbal or physical. Letting a smile spread across her lips, a friendly smile, Yora’s smile, Oresnya reached out and set a reassuring hand on Eshryd’s shoulder. The Dek flinched but looked up when the pressure was light and unabusive.

“You are right. I am small. What I can do?”

Eshryd beamed a different smile and pointed to smaller rocks about the site of the slide. Oresnya realized that the Dek had organized themselves well. Those with disabilities that left them unable to move much lifted smaller rocks and put them into smaller pails that they could carry away from the site while the more physically gifted but perhaps slower of mind were busy lifting the heavier boulders. Despite the power of some of those, they were still leaving the extremely large boulders. Sighing, Oresnya realized her place was with the weakest and accepted that she wouldn’t be much help elsewhere.

Taking a moment to gather herself, she looked at the mountain that reared up before her. No matter how mountainous the surrounding terrain was, Mt. Skyinarta put it all to shame. Monolithic, it rose up, making the smaller mountains around it seem as if they were all part of some flat plain. The scope was majestic and awe-inspiring, the way the volcanic mountain reached for the heavens, seeming to try to scrape the stars from the skies. The Sanikas valley pass was covered in vegetation, blanketing the landscape for miles around in an unending sea of green, but as soon as it hit the mountain, it ended against the sheer rocky face where nothing could grow. With its reach, it seemed to be the one place Oresnya had encountered that could make the simple living creatures close to the Gods and Goddesses of the heavenly lights. She felt there was a powerful connection here that she had failed to notice before, but she knew mortal beings were prone to creating meaning where there was none.

And now, it was beginning to fall apart. Her attention came back to the slide. No matter how majestic the mountain, it couldn’t hold back the raw power that was deep within. If the reimancers of Wind Reach couldn’t keep the subterranean power in check, the mountain would rip itself apart. Oresnya herself could do nothing to stop that, so she had come here to help in the little insignificant ways she could.

Reaching down, she placed her hands on top of two rocks that were each about triple the size of a balled up fist. She let the hooks of her skin stretch out and sink into the surface, giving her easy purchase. This way, she didn’t have to tire her grip before the hard work came. Giving most of the work to her legs, she stood up and waddled with her heavy rocks to her buckets and dropped them in. After several trips, she looked over to see half the Dek, Eshryd included, slapping their palms on the stones and trying to pull them up to no avail.

Laughing at them, she stopped them before they could make further fools of themselves. “You cannot. I am-” she struggled for the word “-different. Symenestra. We have… sticky skin. When we want.”

They looked at her oddly for a moment, and Oresnya couldn’t tell what kind of thoughts were going through their heads. Shrugging, they went back to work, a few trying a time or two more to get the rocks to stick to their skin the way Oresnya’s had.

[Oresnya Cacao]

Oresnya continued to fill her buckets two rocks at a time, but before she could manage to fill them completely, she overheard another Dek ask Eshryd about her. The Nari was quick, but Oresnya caught enough to get the gist.

“Eshryd, who is she? She is odd.”

A flurry of hand motions exploded from Eshryd, and Oresnya understood none of what it told the other Dek. The other Dek was used to communicating with Eshryd this way though and picked up everything.

“Widow? That’s an odd name.” Another flurry of hand signs from Eshryd, then, “She is not your friend. She is a Chiet. If she’s acting nice, it just means she wants something from you.”

More hand signs flew between them, this time much more insistent.

The other Dek nodded and shrugged. “You’re right. If she wanted something, she’d just take it.”

Oresnya continued to pick up the rocks she could manage, watching and listening to the conversation out of the corner of her eye as she loaded her bucket as full as she could to still be able to carry it. Eshryd’s finger and arms said something in rapid gestures.

Her Dek friends responded. “She tells stories? Her Nari isn’t very good. I imagine she can’t tell them that well.”

Eshryd shrugged and gestured another something at which the other Dek laughed.

“Yes. If she says it in a language that you can’t understand, it does you little good.”

Another gesture from Eshryd and an angry glare said that Eshryd didn’t appreciate the comment.

“You like everything about everyone. I still stand by what I said. If you can’t understand it, then it isn’t a good story.”

Hoisting her buckets of rocks and waddling off with them, Oresnya smiled at the woman’s comments. She wasn’t wrong. If Oresnya thought about it, her storytelling was childish compared to the way Kalinor’s weavers wove tales. The Symenestra’s legs were already tired, evidenced by a stumble along the way, and she attributed that to not eating for a couple days. When she reached the place where the rocks were being displaced to, she set the buckets down, knocked them on to their sides, and spilled their contents into the slowly growing pile.

Peering out into the expanse of the pass as it swept away from her to coat the land below, she marveled at its scope once again. It took up so much space, but it looked so insignificant from where she was standing. There was a sense of power from this perspective, and she wondered if this was how everything appeared to the Endal when they were on their Wind Eagles. If so, she couldn’t really blame them for the way they embraced their status in Wind Reach.

But with this perspective came another sense, a sense of insignificance of the one viewing it. Loneliness, that vast and empty emotion, the sense of nothingness about, surged around Oresnya, and she had to wonder for a moment if that was why the Endal clung to their power, to hold back their insecurities. She was a bit lost in this thought when a soft touch brought her back to the present.

Eshryd was watching her with a curious expression. As if trying to figure out what Oresnya was watching, the mute Dek looked out over the vast expanse of the pass and pondered what could lay hidden beneath its canopy. Shivering at the possibilities, at one particular possibility, Oresnya realized, Eshryd looked back at the Symenestra and shook her head.

Oresnya smiled in reassurance at the Dek. “I wasn’t really thinking of much of anything. Just watching, appreciating the view.”

The Dek gave her a confused look, and Oresnya realized that there was little wonder in Mt. Skyinarta’s majesty to someone who had lived with it their entire life. To Oresnya, ever since she had left Kalinor, the world was always new. Every day brought a different stretch of coast. Every city they stopped in was either new or had been visited long enough ago that the changes that had happened since made it feel new. In a world always changing, there was much to wonder at. In the stagnant familiarity of home, there was little marvel.

While the Dek emptied her considerably heavier buckets, Oresnya watched, appreciating just how hard and powerful life as a Dek had made the Inarta woman. Vinati left little concealed, and where cloth didn’t cover, muscles stood out hard underneath her skin, twisting and combining their many lines and curves to create the lithe figure before her. Her world travels had led Oresnya to recognize strength when she saw it, and in Eshryd, she saw it raw and pure and a potential for even more. It frightened Oresnya whenever she realized that what was obvious in a person was not their greatest potential. Few people like that existed in her experience, and she was always terrified of what such a person would do once they discovered this.

The woman who had been talking with Eshryd before wandered up with meager buckets and set them down. As Eshryd began to unload them for the other Inarta, the woman nudged the mute with her elbow. When Eshryd gave her a questioning look, the other Inarta flicked her head sideways, indicating Oresnya. Eshryd smiled and sent a simple gesture Oresnya’s way. With her hands held palms together, she parted them from the top until they lay flat. It was simple enough for Oresnya to understand. Book. Tome. Close, but not quite.

“Story? From me?”

Eshryd’s smile brightened.

“You all want?”

Eshryd was practically beaming now.

“My Nari is bad.”

“She says you speak Common,” the other Inarta woman commented in accented Common.

After her first few days in Wind Reach, it always stunned Oresnya when she heard the Common tongue being spoken in the mountain. She nodded and replied in Common. “I do. Do all of you?”

Eshryd shook her head, and the other Dek spoke for both of them. “They don’t, but I speak it decent, and Eshryd listens Common very well. We’ll translate for you.”

“I don’t know.”

“Please.”

Oresnya laughed at the two Deks’ insistence. Though Eshryd said nothing, the expression she wore was giddy anticipation, a bubbling energy ready to burst past the dam of her smile.

“Fine. Let me think of one, and when I’m ready, I’ll let you know.”

As the three walked back to the rubble of the slide, Oresnya racked her brain for a good story to tell. With her travels across the coasts of Mizahar, she had come across plenty of stories. Hundreds of them tumbled in her mind, but she couldn’t catch one and pin it down long enough to keep her attention. Along with thoughts of stories came thoughts of a dozen other things. As she tried to keep them all organized, her stomach growled and gurgled, and she patted it absentmindedly the way a mother consoles a child she knows she could do nothing for.

Food. God, she wanted food, and it had only been two days since her self-imposed starvation had begun. Leo had asked her for a week, and right now, that sounded impossible. Hunger was not meant to be ignored.

Then it hit Oresnya. She knew the story to tell. It was one that had been repeated again and again throughout her childhood. It was perhaps the most important one a Symenestra child ever heard. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t thought of it before.

“I have one,” the Symenestra told the two Dek, “but I need to remember it first. Give me a little longer.”

Oresnya took a full trip of rock delivery back and forth to remember all of the details of the story. It was an important one, one she was sure every Symenestra child grew up hearing, because it taught the most important lesson. For that reason, she wanted to get it right. If nothing else, Oresnya wanted these Dek to feel the impact of this story.

As she slapped a palm down on two rocks and lifted them up, placing each in a separate bucket, Oresnya began the story, speaking slowly and distinctly, so the other Dek and Eshryd could translate for the others. “These are the tales that illustrate the benevolence and the fortitude of all living things and of the bonds that hold us all together. They teach us the greatest lesson life has to offer. These of the six great stories. This is the lesson. Listen well. Remember them, children.”

There were actually eight, but Oresnya couldn’t remember the details of two well enough to include them. It didn’t matter though. No Inarta knew the story. None would correct her. And she had their attention now.