Spring 19, 523
Morning
Morning
Ebrashi moved slowly in the thick humidity. For someone who lived in the desert his whole life, walking on this sand seemed like an insurmountable task. Sand is sand, right? Wrong. It had only been a few days since the storm but the Benshiran herder was finding life on the beach difficult. Matthias had been a great help. Such a leader explained why this settlement was bustling with activity and life.
The allowance for some time to pass for adjustments was needed but also its own struggle. Ebrashi wasn’t sleeping well though he rather enjoyed being on land again even if it wasn’t his home. Today’s monumental task was to find the sawmill, introduce himself to the owner, and insert himself in the open position of an animal handler for what sounded like very large cattle. The antelope of his family’s tribe had not survived the storm and that loss seemed to have ripped a hole deep into the young man. Hope and youthful ignorance warmed at the idea of something to fill the void.
Go north, through the pigs until you find a herd of something bigger. Those were roughly the instructions Ebrashi had received when he had inquired about the mill’s location a second time. Wet sand was absolutely weird. Golden eyes fixed upon the matted granules. It was vastly different than the perfect dunes of Eyktol. The teenager didn’t have the luxury to ponder this for very long, however, as the sounds of dozens of grunting creatures brought his focus up in front of him.
Pigs! So many pigs! They chased each other around in the water, on the sand and all over. Ebrashi almost couldn’t believe it. In his wildest dreams, he would not have been able to conceive such a place. The brown, pink, and black bodies stood out amidst the bright blue waves and light sandy beach but the animals certainly looked as if they belonged. A dagger of sadness split his heart as the thought of whether he’d ever feel that sense of connection again bloomed like a poisonous flower in his mind. The joy of experiencing the unknown beauty of nature was quickly gone and so he moved through the playful swine once again focusing upon the sands.
After another period of time passed, the grunting long since left behind, Ebrashi caught a whiff of something rich and earthy. Eyes reflecting the light Syna drew up from the ground he shuffled along towards a high but small structure. The sound of machines echoed from beneath the thatched roof but it was what lay near the structure that caused the young man to quicken his pace. Something bigger. It could not have been more clear.
Ashta!
A herd of elephants with bone covered brows, vine infused ears, and small tusks lounged, played and lingered near the mill. Ebrashi had never been around large animals like this before and the wonder spread across his face despite his vacillating emotions. Unconscious steps drew him ever closer as golden eyes widened to absorb the herd’s majesty. So enthralled by the beasts of burden was the young man that he failed to see the mill’s proprietor appear from behind a stack of timber. Study upon study, Lars simply folded his arms and leaned his strong frame into the unforgiving stack of wood as the tan-skinned newcomer whose hair was as white as his garments floated in from the beach.
Ebrashi reached the first beam of the mill and was frozen in place when a larger ashta, perhaps a bull, turned abruptly to stare at him. The creature’s movement landed both front feet at once and sent a rumble through the ground which sent goosebumps up the herder’s spine. In his native tongue, he whispered softly to the large creature. “Don’t mind me, maskam. I’m just a hak tsipor here to sing you a song.”
“That’s quite a pretty language.” Lars chimed in with Common. “You must be the helper Matthias told me about.” The millwright moved from his post and meandered around the equipment towards Ebrashi. “I’m Lars. Let me introduce you to your new herd.” He smiled warmly as he extended his hand towards Ebrashi.
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