contentment

Contentment

original fantasy version 

Contentment

            From the flanks of Daome near a ruined Yäwurenyi city came an ominous pealing of the bell that once defended that very city from the greatest peril they could imagine. A danger that was infinitely more terrifying than the frequent earthquakes, more totally annihilating than the fiercest wildfire, yet born of the powers of both earth and fire.  The ringing of this bell meant one thing only; Daome itself had awakened from its slumber.

            Daome was the largest mountain in the known world, taller than two thousand people. Crowned with glaciers and ever-present clouds, it stood as a lifeless sentinel. Few plants grew even at the base of the mountain and these were sparse and short-lived. Many summers, the rains would cause the base of Daome to take on the brilliant orange of the sun from the blossoms of the one plant that could overcome anything Daome could dish out, the plant known as kelki. No trees graced its flanks; no bushes provided shelter. 

Only the forsaken people, the outcasts, dared cross the sacred rope into the forsaken land beyond. Only they would sidestep the ruins of a city frozen in death to ring the bell of Daome to save those who had shunned them. This land had little to offer save obsidian, ash, and glacial ice. The ash had little value, but was sometimes used as an abrasive. The ice was hard to transport, but was the only mode of refrigeration. That left the obsidian and occasional volcanic gems, the only things that would be a guaranteed trade. This was why Wö and her fellow outcasts were at the base of Daome. Wö was about as tall as a human; her long tail and her shadowy blue skin were considered beautiful by her species. But Wö’s family had the paler high-county hair color, nearly brown, that contrasted sharply with the jet black of other Yäwurenyi. She was a self-exile of sorts, descended from survivors of this ruined city who had heeded the warnings of the outcasts and fled. She was unwelcome in the other cities for many reasons, from listening to outcasts, to her hair color, for not trying to convince others to leave, and even the belief that her ancestral home was cursed. However, the outcasts never rejected anyone they thought would follow their laws and codes of conduct. That code of conduct is why they warned the people below, almost a penance for past wrongs against their community.

Wö finished pealing the bell, hoping to avoid a repeat of the last eruption’s slaughter of unsuspecting villagers. She nimbly climbed down from the pile of rocks that propped up one end of the beam that supported the bell. Many years ago, the outcasts has repaired the beam and replaced the post used to sound it. The bell was large and cast of copper, giving it a pale green tint. It listed to one side and the surface was gouged by flying rocks and ash ejected by the eruption. Before the eruption, its sound was perfectly tuned, a sharp and resonating call, similar to all the rest. The volcanic heat had warped the bell; however, and now it rand with deep, dissonant tones, like the last gasp of a funeral chant.

            No Yäwurenyi lived in these hills anymore, but the valley below was crowded with the villages of over fifty Quanafi clans, not a single member of which could sense the tremors rising within Daome as the Yäwurenyi could. Although it was already the fifth hour of the night, Quanafi bell ringers scrambled up to their bells and echoed the alarm, spreading it hundreds of miles in less than ten minutes.

            A young bell ringer of the Lapis clan ran up the steps to his bell in a panic. He had never had to spread such a terrifying alarm. He tripped on a loose stone, his hands and forehead striking the wooden steps. He rose again, calmed himself, and climbed more carefully to the top. He stared at the bell for a second, running his fingers over the cast images that served as instructions, hoping to get the code right. “Three and none, relay’s one,” repeated Lapis to himself. He rang the bell with all his strength, relaying the message sent by Wö. He then sat down, exhausted. He was a safe distance from Daome and would likely have to sound the bell again.    Those closest to Daome were ordered to evacuate, many fleeing to the homes of relatives without even packing, not knowing the urgency of the alarm. Others did not trust the outcasts and refused to leave, including a woman named Una of the Arani clan married to a man called Nefo of the Gamul.

“But, dear, the outcasts have never been wrong about Daome. They can feel it, you know,” Nefo pleaded with his wife.

“Everyone knows you can’t trust those criminals; they just want us to flee so they are free to loot our homes,” she retorted.

“Honey, we can lock up our belongings or hire a carriage and take them with us. Everyone we know has left already.”

“We have nowhere to go. Your parents won’t take us, and I will not go to my sisters,” said Una, finally bringing up the real problem with leaving.

“There are shelters set up. Even the Yäwurenyi would take in a family fleeing Daome; they’ve been in this position themselves. We could stay with one of the larger clans, even Her Majesty Desa-Joran would take us in.”

            “We are not leaving, and that’s final!”

            “Sweetheart, we can’t take the risk, think of our daughter,” he pleaded once more.

            “I said it was final!” yelled his wife, storming out of the room.

            Nefo silently went to his daughter’s bedside and checked on the travel bag they kept packed and ready for her. He had always thought it strange that they had it yet never traveled anywhere. When Una went out for a walk the next evening, Nefo grabbed his daughter, Kiv, and a small satchel he had packed for her and decided to go to his parents’ house.

Nefo looked for the carriage rental shop near his house, but the doors and windows were boarded up. He peeked through a crack in the boards and there wasn’t a single carriage or riding deer inside. He picked up Kiv and hurried to the only other rental shop in town, and got there just as the owner drove away in his last carriage, unable to hear Nefo’s shouts over the beat of the deer hooves.

“Daddy, what’s wrong?” asked Kiv.

            “We have to go for a trip and it’s a long way away, sweetie.”

            “But my friend, Aila, is a long way away and we go to visit her all the time!” answered Kiv, encouragingly.

            Nefo thought hard about what she had said. Aila’s family lived just over five miles from his, a bit of a trek with a toddler and her toys, but hardly anything for him alone, and his parents were much farther away over rougher terrain. “But, honey, we have to travel twice that far, at least, to get where we are going.”

            Still not totally understanding, Kiv picked up her bag and set of on the road to Aila’s house. Nefo grabbed her hand and led her along the evacuation route. As he expected, she tired after only a short distance so he took off his cloak and put it on his daughter. He strapped her bag to his chest and he then heaved Kiv onto his back so he could carry her more easily.  It was a cold night and he hoped his parents would ignore their vow that his marriage to such a low clan made him no longer welcome. Maybe they would relent

due to the emergency and the absence of his wife. He knocked and his cousin opened the door. Upon seeing who it was, his cousin closed the door and went for his uncle without even seeking a reason for his presence. Nefo could hear shouting and the door never opened again.

            Dejected and concerned for his young daughter, Nefo tried to remember where his in-laws lived. He did not know where the Arani village was, as he and his wife had never visited it. Ideally he should go to her elder sister, but he did not even know her name. He hesitated, remembering how his wife had become estranged from her younger sister, mostly because his sister-in-law had married into a very high clan, known as the Sun or Da clan. His own clan, Gamul, wasn’t even on the council of powers. Nefo headed for the Village of the Sun, where he knew travelers were often welcomed into the guard house on nights such as this. The road was dark, but he was grateful that there were so few trees. Forests would attract cougars, and he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against even a young one.

            Finally Nefo reached the walls of the village, which he followed to the main gate. He looked up at the enormous gate and set a half-asleep Kiv on the step and knocked. A window on the guard house slid open, startling Nefo.

            “Traveler! What brings you to the city of the sun at this hour of the night?” hollered a gruff voiced guard.

            “Sir, I am Gamul Nefo, and this is Kiv. My daughter and I have come from a small town called Siltsu, near Daome. We seek my sister-in-law, of the Arani clan. We have nowhere else to go and have been walking for over two days.”

            The guard opened the door and invited Nefo and Kiv inside. “It is not right to wake her at this hour, even if she is your sister-in-law. This room here is used by travelers, but due to the cold weather most aren’t traveling by night and are at the inn instead. You can use my cot, and there is a fire pit and kettle in this room if you want some hot tea. If the child needs to sleep, just blow out the oil lamp. Here’s a flint in case you need to relight it. I will take you to your sister-in-law when my shift ends in the morning.”

            Nefo extinguished the lamp and tucked in Kiv, who fell asleep almost immediately. He then leaned back on a chair in the room and tried to sleep. Restless, Nefo had barely dozed off when a messenger from within the city was let in through the back door.

            “Nel, I didn’t know you were on duty tonight! Milady Da Arani Ren has sent me to find out why the travelers’ room is dark and to see if you have heard any word regarding her sister’s family.”

            “Of course I’m on duty. Sela has relatives in town this week so we are dividing up his shifts. I have a man called Gamul Nefo and his daughter Arani Kiv here, but I didn’t want to awaken Da Arani Ren. The child is asleep in the travelers’ room.”

            “I shall tell milady. Thanks, Nel,” said the messenger as he vanished into the night before Nefo even got a chance to come out and talk with him.

            Minutes later, as Nefo was lighting the lantern and waking Kiv, there was a sharp knock on the back door. It then swung open, and in strode a tall young woman who appeared about 80 years old to Nefo. She had long, very pale red hair that reminded him of Una, and piercing golden eyes. The guard stood hastily as she entered, but she ignored him and went into the travelers’ room. Nefo, too, stood hastily, holding Kiv who squirmed to be let down. The woman stared at Kiv for a moment then said to her, “I am Da Arani Ren, your mommy’s sister. Why don’t you give Auntie Ren a hug and you and your daddy can come spend the night at my house. You have to be real quiet though; my daughter Jima and her daddy Tsumata are sound asleep and will be very grumpy if we wake them.”

            Nefo handed Kiv to her and followed closely, not at all surprised that she had ignored him. Kiv was her family, not him; and he was far beneath the clan she had married into, as well as from a cross-feud clan allied with the Maina, or Moon, clan, sworn enemies of the Da clan, although she certainly knew he was disowned. Silently, they entered her house without lighting any lamps and using a lone candle in the outer room to see.

            The house was far larger than Nefo’s own, but it was laid out the same. The sleeping area where they were headed was the second ring of the dome-shaped building. He was unable to see Tsumata or Jima from where they were, but that was expected because guests traditionally slept on the far side of the ring from the family. Ren handed Kiv a doll and left them to their own devices, motioning them to be quiet. Nefo noticed the candle in the outer ring was not yet extinguished and he could faintly hear Ren whispering to herself, “at least the little one is safe. I wish Una would come too, but I doubt it after her outburst at my wedding. Such a silly thing, that she was upset because I married a Da and she only netted a Gamul. I doubt she’d want my charity, nor that of this clan. So stubborn! May she listen to reason and either seek Kiv here or refuge elsewhere. The concrete beings are not to be trifled with, she knows that, and Daome least of all.” Nefo silently echoed her sentiments and finally fell asleep on the lush down mattress, a far cry from his own hay-filled one back home.

~~~

While Nefo stated his case, Taqua gazed out the window at Daome, which seemed to have stopped its puffing of steam to ponder the situation as well, as the remnants of this small eruption dissipated to a light haze. She stopped paying attention long before because she knew the situation already. Taqua pondered her options. Kiv will stay, that is certain, but what of her father? If he stays, there will be a precedent, and probably a ton of treaties and such with the Maina. He said something about being disowned, who knows why, but that just makes things messier. I think we’ll just let Daome do its thing and I’ll bide my time until it calms down. Maybe by then this Nefo will see if he really wants to join the clan, which he certaintly would have to do. I can’t have clanless riffraff from across the feud loitering around town without a good reason. And his wife, if she comes, is another matter entirely.  So I guess it depends on Daome after all, but doesn’t it always?

 “The ancient one is right, young ones, it shall come down to the will of those of the concrete nature,” Taqua finally said, interrupting Nefo’s tale.

Nefo and Tsumata stared at her, puzzled, but before they could ask anything, she waved them away. “Young ones, there is nothing more to discuss now, I have decided.”

Nefo turned to leave, pondering Taqua’s decision, more uncertain than when he entered. What in the world is she talking about? She didn’t decide, or at least didn’t tell us anything.

 “Milady, you have not told us your decision,” said Tsumata.

“Ah! I knew I was forgetting something! The child, Kiv, will stay with Ren and Tsumata. The foreigner from Maina lands may stay with them if they are willing, until Daome has returned to peaceful slumber yet again. At that point a decision will be made regarding him and possibly his wife. The child will stay, regardless.”

They stepped outside, escorted by servants. It had been scarcely half an hour, yet the sun now glinted, off the ash-filled haze, turning Daome into a delicate silhouette. It seemed so peaceful, so calm. How could such a gentle mountain be such a threat? Tsumata stared at it for a second, mesmerized; while Nefo thought about Taqua’s decision. How can she say that? Why would she be willing to take my daughter, probably the only family I have left, away from me? Why can’t she see past that stupid feud and realize what it is doing to people, to families? Maybe Tsumata can talk to her, reason with her. If he can even understand her, that is. How will we explain this to…?

Kiv rushed out of the house, with Ren’s scolding about tracking in ash following her out the door. “Daddy, did you and Uncle Tsumata talk to the leader lady? Did she say we could stay? Auntie Ren said you asked her how long we could stay. I want to stay a long time. It’s fun here. I made a new friend! We are decorating for a party I’m not supposed to tell you about. Hurry, come see!”

~~~

            Kiv stared out the window towards Daome, ignoring her adoptive mother Ren entirely. Ren was trying to get Kiv to speak to her, as the child had only spoken to Ren’s daughter, Jima, since the eruption, and even then only when absolutely necessary. Ren offered Kiv a paper and an old quill of hers, trying to teach her to write, as the girl was now school-aged, but Kiv knocked over the ink and jabbed the quill into the table until the nib snapped, and then tossed it on the floor and stared out the window again.

            There was a knock and Ren turned to see Taqua coming into the Great Room. “If you are looking for Da Tsumata…” she began as she hastily rose in greeting.

            Taqua held up a hand for her to both sit down again and let Taqua speak, “I do desire to speak with thee, Daughter of Arani.”

            After many years with the Da clan, Ren still could barely understand Tsumata, let alone the thick accent of his family combined with the formal speech used by Taqua. She hesitated and asked, “You wish to speak with Kiv? I’m sorry, but she refuses to speak to anyone.”

            Taqua laughed, realizing Ren misunderstood her, carefully simplifying her speech and switching to the dialect of the capital. “No, I would like to speak with you, Ren, about Kiv. I think she may feel like she does not belong, like she is a burden. Maybe if she had something special to call her own, something intangible yet valuable she might come out of her shell. I was thinking a poem written just for her.”

            Ren stared down at her hands, “I don’t, uh, poetry isn’t, umm....”

            “Do not worry, I have a professional coming,” said Taqua reassuringly as Ren visibly relaxed. “She works for Desa-Joran who was more than willing to have her poet help us out.”

            “Desa-Joran, the queen of all Quanafi and head of the Council?! Wouldn’t that make her the Poet Laureate?” responded Ren, startled. The house is a shambles; we don’t have any decent food to offer her; she will probably expect to be paid a lot; I don’t know of anything inspirational

around here; I hope Kiv’s silence doesn’t anger her….

            “I will take care of everything. She will be working in my garden unless she finds a place she prefers. She is coming tomorrow, I have no clue how long she will be here,” said Taqua, practically answering Ren’s thoughts.

            “Yes, ma’am,” said Ren, eager to end the awkward conversation and appease Taqua.

            “You do not have to speak so formally with me, child. I had best be going; I have work to do,” concluded Taqua, as she walked out calmly.

            Ren turned to Kiv to see if she reacted at all to the news, but Kiv was still staring out the window. “Did you hear that? Taqua is bringing the best poet in the world to write a poem just for you! Isn’t that exciting? Are you going to tell Jima how lucky you are?”

            Kiv shook her head and went outside. She quickly caught up with Taqua and tugged on her skirt, pointing to Daome with her other hand.

            “What do you want honey? You can’t visit Daome and it isn’t about to erupt, there is nothing to worry about, sweetheart,” said Taqua, trying to guess Kiv’s meaning.

            Kiv shook her head and pulled out the paper and broken quill from before and pointed at Daome again. When Taqua seemed perplexed, Kiv dropped the pen and paper and ran off towards the garden crying.

            Taqua followed her and saw her try to open the gate, although she couldn’t reach the latch. “You cannot go in there, Kiv, only grownups can.”

            Kiv sat down in front of the gate, still crying and refused to leave. Taqua left her in the care of the gardener and went back home, pondering Kiv's outburst, frustrated that Desa-Joran forced her into such a trivial matter. The Feud was so much easier to handle than children.