[Theo's Farm] As The Summer Evenings Grow (Seodai)

[Syllke Skyglow]

61 Summer, 511

It was hot. For the past several days, the sun had delighted in her slim chance to chase away every last trace of cool, every shroud of morning mist, every breath of evening chill. In these mid-summer days, even the Denvali had remarked that it was, indeed, the hottest it had been so far this season. For a traveler visiting from the far, far south, the temperate climate would have assuredly felt pleasantly perfect. For the young Vantha, he felt like he had wandered somehow into the middle of a cook fire. Denvali customs and politeness aside, Syllke had his light linen shirt tied about his waist, his boots slung over his shoulder, as he walked barefoot along the barely visible trail. Deeper in the swath of forest which graced the shoulder of a rocky outcropping, the boots had been necessary for Syllke to creep through the rather dense underbrush. In the end, his quarry had eluded him, leaving just a single feather as his reward for an hour of tracking. He had plucked it from a low bush, its deep sea blue hue shining iridescent green as he twirled it back and forth. Sticking it behind his ear, he had felt the inner rumblings of mid-day hunger, and decided to head back to town, the pouch at his side containing the plunder of his foray into the hills. To another eye, it would have seemed a mish-mash collection of debris and detritus. To Syllke, each and every object was a gem, a rough jewel waiting for his fingers to bring out the light within. Well . . . that was the plan anyway.

Once he had found his way to the edge of the copse, the trees had thinned and a broad sweep of green climbed up the hillside to greet him – a small sea of grass and wild flowers, winding its way around a scattering of boulders, large and small. Just for fun, he began scrambling up the bigger ones, and leaping off, his arms flying out like some scrawny, humanoid bird determined to take to the brilliant blue sky. Reaching the bottom of the slope, a very level stretch of soft green grasses ran down to the road beyond, and he had taken his boots off to feel the velvety brush of the blades against his toes. The road itself at this point, was just two dirt tracks rambling away to disappear over a low rise. In the direction Syllke needed to go, it wound downwards to farmland – and he was anxious to go explore this novel phenomenon of relatively (compared to anything to be found in the frozen wastes of Avanthal) large patches of man encouraged growth. Meandering along, he passed a sloping bit of land where the carefully cultivated plants hung lush and green upon an artificial structure of frames, stakes and cord, their fruit beginning to peek from under broad leaves. Stepping closer, he saw they were tiny round balls, clustered together in groups. Reaching out, his fingers ran lightly around one such bunch, and without much thought, he tugged at a single sphere. It came off into his hand and he held it in his palm, inspecting its dark purple surface. It must be edible – why else would they grow it, right? Still, he hesitated. Then finally, he warily placed it in his mouth, bit down, and experienced the sharp, sour taste of an unripe grape as it’s juice squirted all over his tongue.

With a wry face, like someone who has bitten into a lemon, he wrinkled his nose and spit the offensive, mashed pulp into his hand. Sticking his tongue out, he made a rather loud “Yech!” type sound, and flicked his hand to fling the grape to the dirt.

“Who would ever want to eat that?” He asked rhetorically.

[Seodai]

Seodai loved the daylight hours. He worshipped Syna from afar, never really formally offering his praises, unless the beautiful Goddess was moved by the idle songs he created in the comfort of her golden rays. Still, though his heart was so consistently absorbed with Bala's praise, Seodai thrived in the summer. He basked in the warmth that filled Denval, in the light that chased away secrets and shadows. He loved everything about it. The way the early morning sun would kiss the drops of dew on his rose bushes, the way the heat of the mid-day would make his tomato plants strain in reaching towards the glowing globe, and the myriad of colors that came when Syna bade all a good night. He was a child of light if there ever was one. Strange, perhaps, that he'd never heard as much as a whisper from that beautiful goddess, that she'd never recognized how she'd enraptured the simple farmboy. Seodai did not mind. He had the kiss of Bala emblazoned upon his back, which was golden and sun-kissed from all the hours he had spent working out of doors. He, too, was shirtless, though he wore rugged boots to protect his feet as he traversed about the small farm. Today was no different than any other. The same repetition, the same mundane actions that he carried out every day. Seodai never tired of it, though, never wished for adventure or a life elsewhere. He loved every leaf on their patch of land as if it were a sibling, and he worked until he was exhausted each day. To feed the Denvali, to care for this legacy his Uncle would someday entrust to him, to make certain his Goddess never regretted her beloved kiss. Seodai was isolated and alone, but he never minded. And though it was not uncommon for villagers to wander up to the farm, to lend a hand for the day, to earn a share in the inevitable harvest, it was odd when Seodai found a young foreigner playing like a young foal across their land. He observed from afar, content to let the strange scene play its course. As if some divine being were too amused to let that happen, to let Seodai continue his work in peace, their paths crossed despite his attempt to avoid it. Realizing that the strange explorer had yet to see him, Seodai bit back his snort of amusement and instead spoke in a soft voice, hoping not to startle. "No one. Not until it's ripe, at least."

[Syllke Skyglow]

Syllke turned abruptly, not in alarm, for indeed the voice was neither loud nor reprimanding nor hostile. But he had been caught a bit off guard, unaware that he had been observed - much like the scrutiny to which he himself subjected any novel object or entity that he encountered. He was merely surprised, but pleased all the same, for here was someone new.

“That makes sense.” He replied, giving the other fellow a friendly smile.

His eyes roved unabashedly over Seodai, from sandy hair to boots and back again. Not in any overtly rude way – not on his part. Syllke’s natural curiosity and need for creative stimulation always led to such open perusal of others. But he was sensitive to that fact that most did not wish to be surveyed and inventoried like some scientific specimen, so he usually desisted far before he would have liked. The speaker was a bit taller than Syllke, but not excessively so – at least so it appeared from the distance that separated them. In build, they were similar, for their respective races – lanky and lean. Syllke did not allow his eyes to linger as long as they would have on that intriguingly thin torso, exposed, as his was, to the sun’s warmth by virtue of the young man standing near him also having eschewed a shirt. His dark eyes instead came to rest, as was more socially acceptable, on the other man’s face. Syllke made a quick study of those other eyes – almost the shade of the delek’t, one of about thirty different stages and types of ocean ice in the Vani experience. Rimmed with thick, but light, lashes, they had almost a sleepy quality about them, as they looked in his direction. Syllke realized, though, that impression came from the full, heavy lids that naturally rested at half mast.

The towheaded mop that fell into the man’s eyes was a bonus. Syllke had seen plenty of blondes even though the Vantha were dark haired. Avanthal was no cosmopolitan hub, but it attracted a fair number of merchants from other regions. But lighter hair was more novel, and Syllke wondered if it happened to be softer, or coarser, than his own. Overall, the young man seemed slightly leached of coloring, as if he was several shades away from what nature had intended. Still, he had certain type of brightness about him, a more transparent one that seemed to diffuse and fracture the sunlight they stood in, one that belied his pale features - a very subdued energy, stemming from . . . .well, Syllke had no idea. But the fellow had an air of contentment about him – perhaps he was just happy to be, as Syllke was. And his face was exceedingly beautiful, with planes and bone structure that called to Syllke’s fingers. Especially those lips.

Syllke’s fingers went back to the grapes, though. “When will they be ripe?” His fingertips felt their round, hard surfaces, and his hand went to hold the cluster, cupping it and feeling its weight. “Will you have some for sale? I’d like to try them.”

Almost reluctantly, he slowly and gently let the grapes go, so as not to risk their falling from the stem, though it seemed quite thick. Stepping lightly over the soft, crumbled earth beneath his toes, he reached a spot two meters or so away from the other. “Is this your land? I’m Syllke, by the way.” His eyes were back on the young man’s face. “Can I touch your hair?”

[Seodai]

Seodai was quite used to being scrutinized. When every wound might be life threatening, it was not uncommon to have every inch of his person inspected for just that. Those were specific times, however. Unfortunate times. The sort that still left him feeling the smallest measure of weariness. Cian Noc had healed him through and through, somehow returned his immediate strength, but nearly dying as an odd experience, and it left one feeling drained. At least as Seodai had experienced it more than a dozen times, anyway. Now, though, he wasn't unwell. He had been properly cautious throughout the day and had carried out his work without as much as the brushing of a thorn against his skin. And so it was almost unnerving, the way this other studied him. Whatever it was that the stranger was looking for, Seo wasn't certain whether he had found it. Until, at least, he fixed him with a wide smile. This first impression, combined with what Seodai had observed of him from afar, convinced Seodai that this one wasn't inherently dangerous. He'd be on his guard, still. Always. But Seodai wasn't the best at thinking the worst of others, and so the exotic young man received a pass from the farmer upon whose land he stood. "Yes," Seodai began to answer the questions that were peppered at him, though he had yet to address the grapes. "My Uncle and I work this farm. I am Seodai..." Touch... his hair? Seodai lifted a dirty hand absently to ruffle through his messy blonde locks, causing them to spill into his furrowed brow. "Ehm..." There was but a beat of hesitation, and then Seodai sidestepped the visitor, so that they had essentially traded places. Seodai, now, could touch the smooth globes of the underripe grapes. Everything Seodai touched was treated with a muted sort of adoration. As if the leaves which brushed his knuckles were as important as the fruit he touched with fingertip, as if both of those mattered as much as himself, as the figure before him. "You've never had a grape?" Seodai took for granted the bounty of food they had to eat. Not the process that went into nurturing it, no, never that. He worked very hard so that all of Denval might enjoy the fruits of his labor. But he was so accustomed to tasting such a variety of delicious, healthy foods that he sometimes thought little of those who might not have access to the same things he did. As he stared at the figure across from him, not so dissimilar in size and shape, but darker, with eyes that were surreal, Seodai found that to be a very sad truth. He glanced towards the green, hard fruit in his palm. His Beloved, his Goddess was the Lady of the Harvest, the mother of plenty, the heart of sharing. Channeling that heart and the power she had given him in her kiss, Seodai murmured softly. To the fruit? To Bala? Either way, it had the same effect. The leaves on the vine enlarged, became a more vibrant green, basking in Syna's affection even as the fruit beneath them darkened to a purple so deep it was nearly black. Seodai reached to pluck a particularly heavy bunch from their happy perch, and those he offered out towards the foreigner. "You will like them."

[Syllke Skyglow]

The Vantha youth’s eyes almost popped out of his head. He hadn’t been too bothered by this Seodai’s casual sidestepping of his request, paired with the physical act of stepping around him to reach the grapes. He was well used to people receiving what – to him – were just naturally prompted inquiries, as being anything from odd to offensive to bizarre in the extreme. But when the pale young man touched the fruit, murmuring under his breath, and before their eyes the entire vine deepened in color, a deep purple color blooming across the green globes, Syllke was speechless. In mute astonishment, his cupped hands went out to receive the proffered gift. His dark eyes were almost glowing crimson, as they darted from Seodai’s face to the fruit and back again.

“How – how did you do that?” he asked, with the childlike wonder of one witnessing ‘magic’ in his voice.

[Seodai]

"Try one," Seo encouraged. He seldom used his gift for such simple things, but he couldn't help but be amused at the surprise this stranger exhibited. And, as he waited for his suggestion to be taken, he turned a little. The broadness of his shoulderstapered quickly to a narrow waist and lean hips and there, beginning below the hem of his trousers and branching up out of the line of cloth was a mark. A beautiful tree that grew along his spine and branched out from there. "Bala's blessing," he explained simply, and then turned to face this Syllke again. As he waited Seodai reached out to pluck a single grape from a bunch still on the vine and this he popped into his own mouth. It was incredibly sweet, even better than it would have been had it been allowed to ripen on its own. Bala's gift did not waver, there were no uncertainties as there sometimes were in the natural order of things. These grapes would all be the very best, and he would have to pick them all today, lest they spoil. Seodai mused over whether or not Noc would enjoy grapes, still feeling quite indebted to the unwell healer. "Well, eat it."

[Syllke Skyglow]

Syllke did not immediately react to Seodai’s invitation to sample the bounty of his efforts. He was still too amazed. As the young farmer turned slightly and pointed out his mark from Bala, Syllke only looked with even more avid interest at the branching tree that seemed literally to sprout from his body itself. The pattern was intriguing, and, as always seemed to be the case, the young artist felt his fingers twitch with a desire to reach out and trace its intricacies, to transfer the image into his brain via his fingertips. Instead, he blinked and without really thinking, he finally plucked a grape from the bunch in his hands and tentatively placed it in his mouth. Slowly he chomped down on it and this time the sweet juice suffused his taste buds and he quickly smiled radiantly.

“Terrific!” He exclaimed in Vani. “These are wonderful!” He quickly switched back to the common language of Mizahar. He wasn’t fluent but he had a good basic grasp of it, as many Vantha did, especially the ones who lived in the city of Avanthal itself. Decades of exposure to travelers and merchants had prompted the Vantha who were most inclined to engage in trade to educate themselves and their children in the “new” language. Syllke had made even more of an attempt to master it once he had decided that he would be leaving Avanthal one day.

Pulling a few more grapes off the cluster, he threw those in his mouth and chewed and swallowed, focusing on the taste and slight smell of the fruit, while his eyes absorbed their rich color and pleasing roundness. Swallowing those, he paused long enough to glance back up at Seodai, “What else do you grow here on your land? Does all of it taste this good?” he asked, before popping another two grapes in his mouth. He pointed at Seodai’s back and around the grapes he added, “Can I draw that gnosis mark? I’ve never seen one like that before. Were you born with it?”

[Seodai]

Seodai thought of all the life giving sustenance growing on their land. Would this Vantha feel as enamored by the flavor of bitter greens, or the crowns of broccoli? Green, nourishing things that strengthened the blood, that served a more noble purpose than these sweet grapes. He doubted it, but who could say? He had no idea what the skinny youth usually ate, anyway. "Lots of things," he answered, a fond gaze dropping to the land aside them. Their swath wasn't enormous, but it was stuffed full of life, far too many things to name. "Many fruits that taste as sweet. Vegetables, too." Seodai stepped away from the now blessed vine, his boots crunching the rock beneath that made it so difficult to make things grow in this place. Were it not for the affection of Bala they would hardly have been as successful as they were. "Draw it?" Seo asked, genuinely confused. People just didn't make sense sometimes. "No. I was not born with it. The mark is a gift from the Goddess." Seodai recalled, with no small measure of warmth, Her kiss. Her gentle eyes, hands made of love, the voice that spoke through him, the promise he had made. "I have work to attend. You are new in Denval? Many residents come to aide in the work, earning a share of the harvest. You are welcome to stay, if you are interested in helping." Seodai was quite unaccustomed with the practice of small talk.

[Syllke Skyglow]

When Syllke had mentioned the tree shaped mark, he had unconsciously placed his fingertips briefly on his own – the gift of Morwen. His goddess had touched him at birth, and left behind her imprint – a feathery, delicate tracing that resembled a snowflake. The size of his palm, it lay like lace, in a shade of light silvery blue, over his right upper chest. The goddess of the children that came down from the stars on the paths of light did not impart the gift of the growing of living things. Her mark enabled him to play with that all encompassing element of life so far north – ice. Syllke had spoken with Captain Astrid about his abilities and perhaps making the effort to improve, expand and compound them. It could be helpful to his new community - and help offset his rent free lodgings at the Lyceum. It was on his to-do list. For right now, his eyes roamed from the surrounding plots of blossoming life, to the mark on Seodai’s back, to the young man’s face and back to the grapes in his hand.

“I’d love to help you!” He said enthusiastically. “Dirt is fun – and mud.” Both were slightly novel experiences for the Vantha who had lived in a land where it never got above freezing. “You know, in Avanthal, we have to grow food underground – using stormgems. It’s very difficult.” He kept eating grapes at a fairly amazing rate, as he waited for his new companion to lead the way to . . . wherever. It was a beautiful day, he had someone to chat to and a new something to learn about. Syllke was sublimey happy.

[Seodai]

Seodai gave a succint nod and stepped back onto the rough path that led down towards the more level terrain, towards rows of blossoming vegetation and the promise of life to all the Denvali. He didn't speak again on the walk, though he did slow down a bit so that Syllke could both eat his grapes and tag along. Seo paused at the bottom of the incline to survey the work awaiting him. Where best to begin, with novice hands in tow? He decided that pulling weeds was a pretty safe bet, difficult to mess up. And so they navigated towards the small house itself, and the collection of crops closest to it. "Melons," he explained suddenly, crouching down beside the crawling plant that lived atop a mount of soil. "Sweet," he said with a bit of a smile, squinting up at Syllke where the sunlight hovered just behind him. "Like the grapes. The weeds choke out the vine, though. We have to pull them all out, so that all the water and nutrients can get to the roots of our plants. See?" he asked, gently pushing aside the large green leaves to reach beneath them and grip a handful of a wild grass that had planted itself there. He pulled it, and dropped it into a pile near his feet. "We will burn it all tonight, when the sun sets. If you do not destroy it entirely, it will simply take root elsewhere on the farm." Seodai, seemingly convicned that his explanation was quite sufficient and that Syllke could manage on his own, stepped back to let him have at it. After only a moment of hovering, he walked away, tending to more complicated facets of his work. Seodai kept busy for several hours, enduring the brunt of the heat without a breath of complaint. It had been a long day, and much had been accomplished by the time he retrieved a pitcher of water and set off to find his visitor. "Hungry?" Seo asked, offering the crisp, cool water out towards the Vantha.