Cutting the Last Tie

by **Brodon Windriver** on July 8th, 2013, 2:39 am

49th of Summer, 513, late night

Sleep would not come. It was not the many fears and dangers the Syka expedition would face that kept him awake. Unknown creatures and savages, diseases and other debilitating afflictions, toxins, venoms, strangling vines, quicksand, ghosts and hidden traps guarding ancient ruins. Who knew what else.

Nor was it the fear of looking a fool and a liability before the others. He had been hired as a guard and falconer/messenger. He knew nothing of the jungle and was unsure what to watch for and guard against. His skills were not helping him decide what he would do with himself once their base was established. He had to do more than guard. He had turned in his supply list, mostly personal tent and animal care gear, though these could possibly be built upon to construct a "mews" of sorts for the future. He had also asked for items for plowing and planting. But this too was for the simplest grains for animal feed with an outside possibility of bread.

He had some ideas beyond these simple beginnings, but even the ones that came to mind at this early stage, he lacked any true experience in. For the most part he expected to be guard/messenger/laborer. This suited him fine for the time being and did not rob him of sleep. What he lacked in experience he made up for in optimism. He imagined most everyone else was also worried about looking like a poor selection for one reason or another.

Then there was the other aspect of his journey. His discovery of his purpose as far as his quest to restore his father. The staff was what needed to be brought across the water, and it was most definitely Falyndar that was the destination. He had never been more on the right track in his life. But this did not keep him awake with excitement either.

It was the sacrifice that was required that kept him staring into the wall beside his bed at Atri's Place. Not that he resented it exactly. He understood the necessity. He knew it would be selfish of him to endanger the entire expedition and all its members over what was, essentially, a knick-knack item. But it was all he had left of home, of Endrykas, of the Horseclans. He did not even have it when he first set out. He bought it in Ahnatep and nearly lost it several times.

But always, as if miraculously, it was restored to him. He knew now why. The gods saw to it, knowing he would have nothing he valued to give otherwise. He really owned nothing but his clothes, his horse, his bow and hawk and gear, as well as basic survival tools and grooming items. All the rest had been lost to bandits while crossing the desert. In fact, nearly all of this had been lost as well, but he'd managed to recoup this much of it as rewards for jobs done in Yahebah.

It was not that his other possessions had no value. On the contrary, they were essential. Tools and weapons for an expeditionary effort were basic. He could get around it by having Mathias buy him new ones as he sacrificed the old. But he felt that was cheating somehow. The only other thing was the iron staff itself, but that could not be given up. It was his entire purpose in going. He had already prayed to Laviku about this.

No, the little Strider porcelain figurine was it. It was irreplaceable and deeply personal to him. He turned shimmering eyes to it on the little table beside his bed and sighed again. He felt he was saying a final goodbye to his heritage. He'd left Endrykas before he'd been bonded. That was a departure from his culture to begin with. Then he'd adopted the Benshiran lifestyle out of practical necessity while in Yahebah and traveling with Eldarab's caravan. And now the last thing, the one thing he always kept in sight wherever he stayed, was to be given up as well.

He blinked away tears and rolled to stare up at the ceiling. He still had Lovaak, he reminded himself. Given to him from out of the Drykas herd when he left. But Lovaak could not sit on a table, windowsill or mantelpiece. He no longer had his pigeon, Prombus. He wondered what became of him, but suspected that he was well. He was certain that the young man that had taken him was a priest of Eywaat. And he'd been replaced by his sparrowhawk, Arrow, now anyway.

No, he was cutting his ties from his Drykas upbringing permanently now. And maybe it was for the best. He had had to alter his lifestyle to accommodate the culture of Yahebah. And he would not try to deny he had enjoyed his time there. This jungle was sure to be a much greater change in lifestyle than Yahebah had been. As he'd said at the mustering, if giving up his Strider figure would guarantee the safety of the animals aboard, he would expect the people to see to their own safety and call it a fair trade.

Sleep would come with acceptance. Both came in the early bells of the morning.

by **Magpie** on July 23rd, 2013, 7:42 pm

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Brodon :

Notes :

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