Flashback [Flashback] Understanding the Symenestra

[Irriari]

30th Day of Fall, 511 AV

Irriari smiled as she stepped into the floating city of Kalinor. The merchants and captains had rarely spoken to her, though she had smelled the sweat that rolled off their bodies when they spoke of Kalinor. One had laughed uneasily at her inquiry before muttering something about 'being happy to be a male'. Confused, the zith had spent the rest of the trip across the sea in silence. Now that she had finally entered the vast city inside of a cavern, she understood why the humans would be uncomfortable. Dwellings in dark places reminded the weak creatures of how vulnerable they truly were. Laughing at the thought, she redirected her attention to the silken walkways that were supposed to serve as a means of travel from place to place. While the silk seemed steady enough for now, Irriari was hesitant to assume that all of the silk was of the same quality.

The caverns reminded her of her home colony within the Sea of Grass, and she took pleasure in the similarities. While here, she wouldn't have to worry about the petching sun blinding her sensitive eyes as it normally did while she was traveling. Furthermore, she knew that few humans visited Kalinor, and she would be free of their scourge as well.

While the beautiful caverns put her at ease, the hanging buildings and homes did quite the opposite. As she slowly walked toward her destination, the zith found herself wondering if the inhabitants would be angry at her for opening her wings while walking. Flying would have been much preferred, but the balance her wings provided would have to suffice until she spoke with a resident of Kalinor. Unsure who to approach, the zith walked alone for a few more chimes before spotting a Symenestra.

“I was wondering if you could help me... I came to learn about this place and your people.”

Irriari spoke in Common, desperately hoping that she would be understood. Zithanese was hardly an option, and she didn't know of any other way to communicate. Aside from the language barrier, the zith found herself worrying about the mysterious Symenestra who populated the caverns. Were they dangerous? Would they hate her? She clenched her hands slowly, and retracted her wings, trying to calm the ceaseless torrent of questions that were pounding against her skull. The elders had spoken of the Symenestra once, saying that they hunted for humans much like her own race. Intrigued, Irriari asked all of the slaves for information on Kalinor, but found no information, other than one ridiculous folk tale. While her interrogation of the slaves went terribly, her interest in the Symenestra had remained.

[Poison]

There were some similarities between Kalinor and a Zith colony, but in other ways the city of the Symenestra was completely different. There was nothing on the cavern floor, apart from corpses upon corpses, the remains of all the unfortunately human women that had died since the founding of Kalinor. The houses, shaped like tears and made of some strange kind of stone, hung from the ceiling, held in place by nothing more than thick ropes that had been wrapped in silk. Water was brought into those houses through tubes.

The Symenestra enjoyed a kind luxury that few Zith – or humans for that matter - did. They wore clothes of the finest silk that shimmered in intense jewel tones. The humans whose women they stole spoke of them as if they were monsters, but their appearance was not monstrous at all. They were a beautiful, elegant people. They didn’t see themselves as evil. As far as they were concernd, they merely did what was necessary in order to survive.

Even though no ray of sunlight had ever reached Kalinor, it wasn’t cold in the cavern. The temperature was relatively pleasant, no matter what the season or the time of the day. While the humans in the world above were preparing for the coming winter and worried about the cold, the Symenestra walked about without shoes and enjoyed their lives to the fullest. They had already stocked up on enough food to last them until spring arrived once more.

The arrival of a Zith in Kalinor attracted some attention of course. There had not been one of Irriari’s kind in Kalinor in recent times, and the Symenestra, although not as prejudiced as some, were wary of their reputation. They had heard of Zith attacking traders and taking slaves, even eating them on occasion. Somebody pointed at her as she walked into the city. One of the Ochya, the guards of Kalinor, readed his weapon. A little boy, a strange thing with snow white hair and blood red eyes walked towards her curiously – he had apparently never seen a Zith before – but his mother quickly took his hand and led him away.

Only she didn’t seem to be worried about the strange winged visitor. In fact it seemed as if the other Symenestra avoided her as much as they avoided the Zith, even though she appeared to be nothing more than a little old lady. Her body was bent with age, her skin was covered with warts and age spots, and her hair was a thin white mess. She could barely navigate the web without help anymore. Her red eyes were still filled with life though.

She remained completely calm as the Zith adressed her. „I can help you“, she confirmed. Her voice was sweet, like honey. „I can tell you everything you wish to know about us, our city and our culture. It is unusual for one of your kind to possess such a thirst for knowledge though and travel all the way across the mountains. Tell me, child, why do we interest you so?“

[Irriari]

Irriari gazed at the woman, entranced by her appearance and delicate voice. While the elders in her colony were lucky to live to thirty or forty, the symenestra woman looked far older. Her features were changed to such an extent that Irriari didn’t have the slightest idea how many autumns the woman could have lived through. Would her own body change so drastically if she lived for fifty more autumns? The zith blinked, hoping that her stare wasn’t too intense. The symenestra’s eyes captivated Irriari the most, and the zith gazed into the sanguine red pools as she replied to the question.

“I heard that you were like us. They told me that you hunted humans and took them captive.”

Irriari pivoted on her heel and looked around the cavern once more, before continuing,

“I don’t see any slaves here. Are they in these houses? And how do they walk on these…”

The zith paused for a moment, searching for a kind word to describe the silken roads that she had already began to loathe.

“paths? I can hardly walk on them, and I have wings for balance.”

The zith stopped speaking abruptly and gasped at a nearby Symenstra scaling the surface of a wall. The male climbed the side of the cavern with confident, fluid movement. His laugh pulled her back to the task at hand, and Irriari found herself looking back at the elder Symenestra she had briefly ignored. Deciding it would be better to ignore the incident that had occurred, Irriari continued where she had left off:

“I was cast out from my colony, and I didn’t want to try to seek out another. Some of the colonies would have killed me for attempting to join them, and that would have been the most pleasant of options. I wanted to come here to see if the rumors were true. Do you hate humans too? Is that why you capture them? I could help you with that- I’ve been on plenty of hunts!”

Irriari’s tone grew more excited as her naïve dream was realized through her words. Throughout the boat ride, she had hoped that the mysterious race were somehow related to her own. Maybe the Symenestra would be more approving of her love of poison! Most of all, the zith had hoped that they would be able to tell her something more about her own race.

[Poison]

„We do“, the old woman confirmed calmly. Some Symenestra became depressed because of the things they had to do, some would rather sacrifice themselves than hunt humans and condemn them to an early death, but Lephora Orphine had lived too long to be an overly emotional fool and cry over things that couldn’t be changed. She was fine with the Harvest. „But we only take the women with us. As for slaves …“ A faint smile flickered across her wrinkled face.

„We do not have any. We have servants, but most of the time we simply do things on our own. I’ve always wondered why …“ She seemed to think about it for a moment, and then she simply shrugged her shoulders and held up her hand for Irriari to inspect it. Even her hand was wrinkled and covered with age spots – and it ended in sharp black claws. „This is how. You may find it hard to believe when you look at me now, but once I was able to move across a wall as if it were a flat surface. Tell me, child, how old do you think I am?“

„You come from a strange world“, she remarked as Irriari told her that some of the colonies would have killed her for attempting to join them. „If a Symenestra from outside of Kalinor came to live with us, we would welcome them with open arms. And no, we do not hate humans, at least most of us don‘t. We capture them and make them bear our children, but why should we hate creatures that are so useful?“

If Irriari turned away from the old woman for a moment, she would notice that the Ochya had left. Lephora Orphine was old, but she could still handle a Zith. She didn’t need the guards to protect her and possibly save her. A number of onlookers remained though. They were watching Lephora with as much interest as Irriari. The old witch didn’t often leave her house anymore. None of them dared to approach the two though.

„I’m too old to have much use for a surrogate“, she remarked as she heard Irriari’s offer and laughed. „And most of those people …“ She gestured towards the small crowd that stood a safe distance away. „… are narrowminded fools that wouldn’t trust a Zith’s offer of help. But I have three daughters, all childless and seemingly incapable of capturing a decent surrogate. Why, the last surrogate my Aliona showed up with was barren and nearly deaf, and we had to get rid of her!“

She narrowed her eyes and glared in the direction of the crowd as if she expected one of her useless daughters to show up.

[Irriari]

Irriari listened to the woman’s voice and did her best to try to understand. It was all incredibly confusing, and she found herself wondering why any race would capture a human if they did not wish to enslave them. Humans needed food and shelter to live, and unless they were put to work, they consumed precious resources. Surely, the Symenestra woman didn’t desire the company of the humans she captured. Based on the reactions of the sea captain and crew, she doubted that any humans that came to Kalinor would do so with open eyes and acceptance. Instead, she feared that the humans would become hostile to the Symenestra as they had to her own race.
The woman’s question took Irriari by surprise and she found herself looking around the cavern again, as if something on the walls would help her discern the woman’s age. After a moment, Irriari realized she was on her own, and she probably looked quite stupid, so she answered with the first high number that came to her mind.

“60? Maybe?”

The zith was relieved when the conversation moved towards talk of the Sea of Grass and her homeland. This topic was one she could discuss without feeling like a child among seasoned Akalak warriors. When she heard that Symenestra would be accepted with open arms, Irriari snarled aloud. While the ways of her people had long been hammered into her head, she was still resentful that her colony had shunned her. There would be no room and food waiting for her in Cyphrus, only the promise of injury and death.
The zith spoke up at the mention of humans as ‘useful’.

“I don’t have any idea how you make them bear your children, but I can’t believe you would call them useful. They are a scourge. When I was travelling, they said terrible things about you. They hate you!”

Irriari’s anger subsided as she realized how foolish her outburst was. The nearby Symenestra had looked more uneasy as her voice rose, but she didn’t care. Maybe they hadn’t seen their friends and family die to humans yet. Perhaps they didn’t understand how cruel and pathetic the humans were. If they had, they wouldn’t shy away from her raised tones; they would join in and hunt the humans as they deserved to be hunted. They would cull the men and capture the woman as needed, instead of just taking women.
The woman explained more about surrogates and Irriari calmed herself enough to listen and process the words.

“I guess you have a harder job than the zith. We would rejoice at a nearly deaf girl, as she would be easy to kill. It isn’t that easy for you, is it? What kind of women do you need?”

Irriari wondered how she would capture human women if she needed them. The caveat that they had to be left alive made things incredibly difficult. If only she could lure in humans with the hypnosis Sevrai had spoken of. Still, a circus show wouldn’t get the women back to Kalinor in one piece. The puzzle was simply too difficult for the zith to figure out, and she ended up deciding it was best to be left to the Symenestra.

[Poison]

„I’m seventy-two“, the old woman replied and shook her head as if she had a hard time believing it. „Viratas has been kind to me. There are few in this dangerous world that reach such an age, and fewer still that share my trade and surive that long. It takes away your sanity and destroys your body if you aren’t careful, it really does“, she murmurred.

„Yes, they hate us, and rightfully so“, Lephora confirmed and shrugged her shoulders. „As much as they hate your kind, I expect.“ She didn’t seem to be particularly bothered by that. „How do you think we make them bear our children?“ she asked. Her smile was wider now – Irriari could see that she didn’t have a lot of teeth left - and her eyes twinkled. Did the Zith not have any idea of the things that happened between men and women? Lephora had assumed her to be an adult, but maybe she was younger than she had thought.

It was hard to tell with some races. Oh well …

„We need healthy women that are fertile. Even if my daughter’s surrogate had been fertile, she might have passed her disability on to her child. A Symenestra that can’t hear can’t hunt as well. I assume it is different for you Zith though. A slave with a disability might still have a certain use, and when you eat them it probably doesn’t matter at all anymore.“

„But by Viratas, I’m such an impolite old woman!“ She shook her head again. „I’m Lephora Orphine. Do you want to accompagny me to my Web? I’ll have one of my daughters make a Bruka for you. It contains a lot of blood“, she explained, assuming that a barbaric Zith like Irriari liked food that had blood in it. As far as she was concerned there wasn’t anything wrong with inviting a winged monstrosity to dinner.

[Irriari]

Irriari gasped. Seventy two autumns of living was beyond her comprehension. The few times she had mused about finding activities to fill such a large amount of time, she had ended up occupying herself with other thoughts. The Elders would have whipped her for such thoughts. For a zith, the current day and moment was all that mattered. After leaving the colony, Irriari had tried making long term goals, and she had succeeded at a few, but most were pushed aside in favor of habit and tradition.

“Viratas?”

The zith’s tone was questioning and unsure as she tried to get her tongue to pronounce the strange word properly. While her knowledge of Common had increased since she had left the colony, certain words were still hard for her to pronounce. Perhaps Viratas was the Symenestra woman’s partner or friend. Pushing the thought aside for the time being, Irriari listened to the talk of surrogates.

While it made sense, Irriari was still confused as to how a child born by another woman would be considered the offspring of a Symenestra. It didn’t matter, though.

“Disabled slaves have their uses- they are far better workers in the pitch dark caverns, since they don’t fear the darkness. My colony was less cruel than some. We ate slaves, but that was a rare occurrence. Without them, we wouldn’t be able to pursue our own dreams.”

After Irriari spoke, the Symenetra woman spoke again, mentioning Viratas once more. Irriari ran the woman’s name through her head a few times, hoping that she could commit it to memory.

“I’m Irriari, and it’s nice to meet you. I would like to go with you.”

The zith paused before she began following the woman to her web. Social graces were something that Sevrai had tried to school her in with little success. Still, a thank you of some sort seemed appropriate.

“Thank you for talking to me. I realize that my presence is unnerving to a lot of your kind. I’m just happy someone finally spoke to me.”

With that, Irriari smiled and waited to follow Lephora back to her web.

[Poison]

„Viratas, the god of blood, or patron. We pray to him and only to him“, Lephora patiently explained. „Do Zith have a god as well? Who do Zith pray to before they go and hunt humans?“ Lephora was not intricately familiar with Zith and their culture, but she knew that most creatures prayed to somebody. She had travelled the surface extensively when she had been younger, and she had never encountered a people without religion.

„How do slaves taste?“ She wanted to know. The little old lady seemed to find the topic strangely fascinating. „I have never eaten a human. We mostly use blood for our meals as we have trouble digesting solid food. It just takes too long to liquify it properly, you know?“ she asked, expecting Irriari to be familiar with Symenestra anatomy.

„Oh, your presence doesn’t unnerve me“, Lephora replied. „Those people are just ignorant fools. Come, and don’t pay too much attention to them. They don’t know any better.“

~~~~

The Orphine Web was located halfway between the Nest and the Place of Purging, Kalinor’s hospital. It was not too far from the gate, but it took Irriari and Lephora a while to get there. The old woman could only walk slowly. Finally they stood in front of the door though. Lephora knocked on it once. When nobody replied, she knocked again, harder.

Finally a woman opened the door. She looked exactly like Lephora, minus the age spots and the thin hair. She appeared to be in her thirties. As her gaze fell on Irriari, she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack. „Mother!“ she exclaimed. „Do you know that there is a Zith standing behind you? Shall I take you to Doctor Hellebore to have your eyes checked?“

„I know“, Lephora replied and glared at her daughter. „She is my guest. Now go and make a Bruka for her, Aliona. Make it especially spicy and put a lot of blood into it. Fresh blood. She’s going to get us a surrogate seeing as you are incapable of capturing humans.“

Aliona almost ran into the kitchen. „Hmpf“, Lephora made. „That girl isn’t good for anything. Come downstairs.“ She pointed at a narrow staircase that led into the main area of the house.

Lephora’s house didn’t have any windows, but there were opalogems attached to the ceiling that provided a little light. It didn’t have any walls either. The different sections of the house were just separated by curtains. On the other end of the staircase was a round room that contained a table, a cupboard and a few chairs, but little else. Symenestra homes tended to be rather sparsely furnished.

A couple of pieces of paper were lying on the table. Lephora looked at them, frowned, grabbed them and shoved them into the cupboard, and then she sat down. „My notes“, she explained. „I’m a glypher, but people think I’m some kind of maledicting witch. Ignorant fools, all of them. Do you want to talk about anything while we wait for the Bruka?“

„Aliona is so slow sometimes, I might have to look for my cane and beat her with it.“

[Irriari]

Irriari pondered what the woman said about Viratas. This god seemed incredibly different from the gods that the slaves had spoken about. Surely the god of blood would be more in line with her ideals than the god of light, or whatever it was that the slaves had prayed to in the tunnels. Perhaps this Viratas actually answered prayers. Irriari returned her focus to Lephora. There would be time to ask questions about gods later.

Irriari paused for a moment, trying to think of all of the colonies that the Elders had lectured her on.

“My kind do not worship gods. Occasionally, slaves will have stories of gods but we ignore them. The cataclysm that brought life to my people is the closest thing to a god that we will ever recognize. If they exist, then they care not for us.”

Her words came out far more bitter than she planned. Maybe the woman would understand the pain of hearing stories of deities and miracles and never seeing proof of her own. Irriari’s mood lifted when the conversation moved towards talk of slaves.

“They’re tasty, though some parts of them are less than desirable. I’m not a huge fan of their organs, though a lot of the Elders are. I don’t know how to explain how they taste… I do know that they’re tender, and the flavor reminds me most of deer.”

The zith shrugged. It had been many seasons since she had eaten a human. Her colony was not overly fond of the practice, though it happened once every few years to remind the slaves of how precarious their positions were.
----
Irriari walked slowly, marveling at the webs and buildings that hung from the stalactites at the top of the cavern. The slow pace didn’t bother her at all, as it took a large amount of concentration to balance on the pathways that connected the buildings.

When they reached Lephora’s house, Irriari laughed at the woman who answered the door. It was always delightful to scare someone based on appearance alone. While she wanted to say something, Irriari simply smiled at the girl and cracked the knuckles on her hands. It wouldn’t do to be kicked out of Lephora’s home before she even entered it.

She watched the interaction between the two with interest. It reminded her of the few times she had dared to speak back to the Elders. Smiling ruefully, she sat down across from Lephora.

“Glyphing? Maledicting?”

Irriari repeated the words slowly as she searched her memories for any mention of the words. She found none, and hoped that Lephora would be able to tell her more. The more time she spent in Lephora’s presence, the more inept she felt. Her world was one of combat and fighting- there were no concerns for glyphing or gods.

“I would like to know more about Viratas, if there’s anything you can tell me. Slaves often spoke of gods, but I assumed they were simply comforting delusions. I’ve never seen proof of them, if they do exist.”

[Poison]

„Deer“, Lephora murmurred and licked her lips. „I really like the taste of deer. Maybe we should eat the barren surrogates rather than simply throwing them off the Web. I’ve always thought that it was such a waste. We go to souch trouble capturing the surrogates, and when they are of no use to us, we simply throw them away.“ The old lady sighed. Unlike the other Symenestra she didn’t seem to have any issue with cannibalism. „But that’s a topic for another day. You probably don’t want to hear an old woman talk about how she misses deer and hates wasting things.“

~~~

„Magic“, Lephora explained as Irriari asked about Glyphing and Maledicting. „I’m a mage, the most powerful in Kalinor in fact even though I don’t look the part. Some say the magic has gotten to my head and I’m not completely sane anymore, but they are just jealous. Would you like me to show you a little magic later on?“ She smiled at Irriari, and then, as the Zith admitted that she had always assumed the gods were simply comforting delusions, she laughed out loud.

„Trust me, child, they aren’t! The gods are very much real. I’ve seen Viratas once when he appeared in the temple to give our priest his third mark. Viratas is the god of blood – and community. Blood is the most precious substance there is. It binds people together, and thus we often sacrifice a few drops of our own blood to him. Viratas values loyalty, he honors those that preserve life as well as those that shed blood in defense of their community. He is a bit of a contradiction, I know.“

„Some say that some blood is more precious than others, but Viratas himself doesn’t care about the race or gender of his followers as long as they embody what he is all about. Ah, but here comes the Bruka …“ she said as her daughter came back, carrying a bowl full of steamy, strangely smelling substance. „Eat. You will love it.“ Aliona put the bowl between Irriari and Lephora, then she gave them each a plate and a spoon. Before she left again, she cast a suspicious look at Irriari.

The stuff Lephora had called „Bruka“ looked incredibly strange. It was red, and it smelled like blood. It also seemed to contain eggs and a lot of garlic judging from the strong smell of garlic that was coming from the bowl. Lephora immediately grabbed a spoon and started eating. She had quite a healthy appetite for such a little old lady.