Chapter 12: Return
Chapter 12: Return
A familiar knock at the front door sends Minetz flying to his feet, Renno following as usual behind him to the balcony.
This time Tharen chooses to let himself in ahead of Minetz arrival. Another four bowls of stew fill his arms. "Where is she?"
Renno is first to respond. "She's hasn't been here yet."
Tharen frustrated like dealing with a disobedient child. "You're not serious are you?"
Renno answers the rhetorical question. "Why would I lie?"
Tharen struggles to balance the bowls on his arm while Minetz tugs at him. In a display of exceptional balance, he manages to close the door with one foot and keep one particular Thono off of him with his one free hand at the same time. "Well have you at least gone to see Rozen?"
Renno meets Tharen at the top of the steps. "No, do I owe him two orders of thanks now?" accepting a bowl from Tharen.
"Miran no, I wouldn't want to see him two days in a row. This is from Elons."
"Oh I met him before, the first night I was here."
Minetz oddly quiet takes a seat and stretches his arms out in Tharen's direction indicating he would like to eat.
Tharen, "I haven't forgotten you." He hands a bowl to Minetz after checking its contents.
Renno stirs his stew. "What's in this anyway? It's pretty good."
"Dry spices, boiled roots, pine nuts, salt, body, and taste really. Elons puts in a lot more effort given the nature of his establishment."
"What nature is that?" Renno, curious.
"Brown Hearth isn't like White Hall or The Table. You can't just show up and expect to be let in even as an Anoran in good standing. He has private rooms for his guests. You have to pay. He mostly serves politicians and foreign dignitaries who don't share Anoran sentiments about sleeping arrangements." He pauses a moment and sips his bowl before quietly adding. "And, well you know, providing a space for couples to be left alone if that's what they desire."
Renno tips his head to the side confused.
Tharen continues. "I don't know what it's like in other parts of the world other than North of here in the Duran region East Attria. But we prefer to sleep in halls as a group. It's safer and more efficient for resources. Not as many homes to heat."
Suddenly it clicks for Renno. "I think I understand, that's why you eat at The Table, and bath together in state bathhouses as well."
"Yeah, your learning. Good. Why waste food and warmth. Why build more than you have to." Tharen speaks with a certain tone indicating a certain pride in the efficient nature of Anoran culture.
"But where do you keep your things?"
"Usually people have a locker at their preferred hall for clothing and another at work for tools and things. Craftsmen either work on guild orders or there for their own clients. They will have personal supply storage at work."
Renno looks around the workshop at the doors to the storeroom. "I see. I suppose you don't have much then in the way of personal keepsakes."
"I think you understand then why the bracelets are so important to people. Societal implications aside it links people to their past."
A wave of emotion hits Renno as he contemplates not having a past of his own. "I see." He slowly sirs his bowl and takes another bite. "What kind of meat is this? you didn't say before."
Minetz out of sight from Renno shakes his head no and waves his hands to stop Tharen.
Tharen ignores him. "Tanoi of course." Tharen's tone progressively becoming more casual over the course of the conversation.
"Tanoi?"
"Yeah, I guess if you don't recall anything you may not have seen one yet or one you would remember. They live in the north. Tall, they got these long curved horns on their heads. Well, the men do. Really something to see. I don't know how they manage."
Renno drops his spoon to the table its contents splatter across some of the blueprints as it falls over the edge onto the floor.
Tharen looks at Renno. "What?"
Renno thinks back to that first night in the attic. The alter, the horns. The couple at the head table. Finally the realization. The Tanoi. "Y-You-" Renno's eyes locked to the half-eaten bowl of stew. The question won't come out. He slaps his meal off the table across the floor. Something about it makes him sick. "YOU EAT THEM?"
Tharen remains seated and with his arms outstretched shrugs. "Well what the hell else would we eat?"
"I think I'm going to be sick." Renno stumbles away and leans against the chimney in the center of the room.
Tharen gets up from the table. "Oh come on. Really? Don't act like you aren't packing some claws and sharp teeth of your own, I'm not blind you know."
Renno looks into his paws and extends his claws. "It can't be. It's not right. I..." His paws begin to shake before he clenches them into fists. "I can't explain it. It feels wrong. No, worse. I feel things. I may not remember but I know how I feel and this is WRONG."
Tharen beginning to show frustration. "Well don't blame me and keep it to yourself. I don't need to have any more reasons to come in here on official business or it's going to be a problem got it? Your our guest here, mind your manners."
"My manners? Your the one who kills and eats people." Renno throws his arms up and takes a step towards Tharen now standing.
"I don't kill anyone. It's not like that anymore. Hunting is outlawed I told you that already."
Renno closes his eyes and collects his thoughts. He becomes aware again of the medallion Tharen gave him. "That's what this keeps me safe from isn't it. It's so you don't eat me too?"
"Yeah, more than that but among other things yes. You have nothing to worry about."
"Oh sure, I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere surrounded by people who must be thinking about what side dish would go nicely with my eyeballs. Nothing to worry about, right." Renno snaps back at Tharen.
With that Tharen loses his temper and quickly flanks the table and shoves Renno with both paws.
Renno land hard on his side his face near the now empty bowl of stew he swatted away earlier. Though he is younger than Renno the Ieza is much larger than him by nature. Tharen stands over Renno with one paw in the air claws drawn.
"It would be that easy, Just remember. Not everyone will care if your protected or not. So keep your damn mouth shut got it?"
Renno climbs back to his feet and dusts himself off. "Fine," and adds mockingly. "yes sir, whatever." He kicks the empty bowl across the room into the corner.
Tharen relaxes still angry but satisfied. "Alright, I'm leaving. Tell Kyra I want to talk to her as soon as she returns."
Minetz quietly squeaks. "Okay."
Neither Minetz or Renno see him out. The front door scrapes open and slams shut.
Lost in thought Renno is pulled back to reality by a familiar tug. He looks down to find Minetz hugging onto him by the waist.
"I'm sowwy," Mints says squeezing him tightly, "I should have told you first."
Renno gently prys him off. "It's fine. I'm just going to go to bed, this is too much for me to handle right now." He climbs the ladder to the loft and lays down for the night.
Minetz stands at the bottom staring up at the hatch for quite some time unsure if he should climb up and check on him or not. Eventually, he grabs a tattered piece of cloth from the workbench and begins to clean the floor, alone as usual.
. . .
Kyra wakes up the next morning. Her ribs are no better than the night before. Still in the drying room alone. She brushes her paws through her fur. Dry and crisp. Her clothing too. She pulls each piece by the corner, raising her paw as little as possible each time to get them down. Slowly she dresses her body aches, both from her injuries and from sleeping on the bare wooden floor. Kyra tiptoes across the front hall to the door of the Lodge.
"Ah-hem." The old man stands leaning against the wall around the corner at the top of the stairs. "You're not going to leave without saying goodbye, are you.
Kyra clasps her tail and shuffles her feet.
"I can't convince you to stay can I?"
"I have to get home or I'll be here all winter." Her voice quiet and hesitant.
"And you are sure you can make it to the top like that?"
"I have to." she states with determination.
"If that's how it must be." The odd man approaches her with a folded piece of paper in his paw. "The boys at the top. Take this to them. They won't turn away a messenger from the base camp." He smiles at her.
"I can't pay you." She says.
"No need, just take this night count to them. Your services as my messenger is payment enough." He smiles.
Kyra takes a moment to consider her circumstances. Given her state and the climb ahead she forgives the charitable act this time. "Thank you." she takes the note from his hand.
Outside a black sky looms overhead. Nothing can be seen in either direction. A light dusting of snow falls slowly to the ground and sound of the waterfall roars in the distance.
Slowly one agonizing step after another Kyra makes her way to the top. She has to crawl unable to gain purchase on the railing with her claws. The strength in her upper-body compromised by her injury. The pain increases with every terrace met. Her clothing soaked from the mist. It even freezes to her fur each time she stops for a break. The sun slowly illuminates a pale gray sky. The frozen wooden scaffold cracks and moans along with the rest of the ice. It echos through her mind.
Barely halfway she stops to rest at the outcrop where the upper and lower lift meet. She warms her paws by the fire. The flames nearly extinguished she takes it upon her self to throw some scrap wood found by the treadmill to fuel the flames. No one is on the stairs today. The season has ended and soon the ice will take them as it does every year. The pass cut off until the thaw. A weeks journey one way around the mountains up the coast will be used for what supplies need to be traded.
The climb takes until midday. Her clothing in tatters from crawling. Her fur darkened with dirt and sand left behind by carts. Her fur frozen in clumps she knocks on the door to the Lodge at the top of the falls.
The preceptor answers. "Oh my, Miran have mercy. What's happened to you? Come in, come in." He ushers Kyra to step inside without hesitation.
Kyra clasps her bare wrist with one paw self consciously.
"No need for that here. If hunting wasn't outlawed you wouldn't need it anyway."
Her paw trembling she hands him the note. Its words running down the page illegible. The paper half frozen shut.
"Ah yes, a note from the base camp." he flicks it into the fire. "A little insurance for a little girl who needs shelter from the cold. Well, you won't need any of that here. Feel free to dry yourself and I'll bring you some stew."
"Thank you, Preceptor." Kyra bows her head and walks slowly to the sauna. Unable to reach the ceiling with her injuries she drapes her clothing out on the benches and lays on the row nearest the fire pit.
Take the soil for example. In the paw some will always fall through the cracks to the ground. Consider society like my palm. Each grain of soil able to sprout a mighty tree when held together. It is our customs, those I teach you today and every day that hold us together. Do not however blame the dirt that falls from my hand. It is impossible for anyone to hold the whole world before them. If I can not, neither could any of you. Do not forget this. Take pity on the fallen. Show them mercy. You can not hold the world. But you can lift some of it if you try.
Kyra meditates on the passage. Have I truly fallen? Is it right for someone to pick me up? She catches a tear rolling down her cheek through her whiskers. No, Miran, I have not fallen.
The preceptor arrives and sits beside her the hot bowl of stew still steaming as he sets it down between them. "You've had it bad haven't you. What happened after you left here?", he pulls a spoon from his waste-band and places it beside the bowl. "Don't look at me like that, I remember you. I never forget a face. Not a lot of workers stop to hear the lessons of an old man. Everyone is in such a hurry these days."
Kyra sighs and looks away from him.
The preceptor places his hand on her shoulder momentarily before pulling a bit of melting ice from her hair. "Take your time. I'll be here all night. I practically run the place now you know." He rises from the bench and begins hanging her clothing for her to dry. "When you're dry, I'll help you up the stairs. You can spend the night here at the hostel. No use leaving now. In your condition, you probably won't make it back to Aht'Regania tonight."
"He called me a thief."
"She speaks." He smiles at her and takes a seat by her side.
"Korzon, he lied so I had to sleep outside. I was under a cart when, I don't know why, but he came out and called the guards. Said I was a thief and then kicked me in the rips." She starts to cry but manages to stifle the tears at the last moment.
The preceptor sigh's in contemplation. "Well, you're more than welcome to stay here until your feeling better. I won't hold it against you."
She looks into his eyes with desperation. "What would Miran think?"
"Hah, Miran would think all society has gone to mad. Dear, Miran has bigger problems these days than you and me sadly. So as long as you keep quiet about it I won't tell her either. Everyone needs a little help now and again."
Kyra smiles for the first time in what seems like forever.
. . .
"Come on you gotta eat something." Minetz pushes the bowl across the table to Renno.
"I'm not eating anything out of that." He turns away from it.
"I made it my self, there's no meat in it I promise."
They are interrupted by a knock at the door. Before they can answer it Tharen shouts from outside. "Open up, I here to talk to Kyra."
Minetz talks to him from the other side of the door. "She's not here yet."
"Tell her I don't care where she thinks she is. I need to talk to her."
"I'm telling the truth, she hasn't been here yet." Minetz shouts back through the door at him.
"You won't let me in so I can see for myself?"
"I didn't fix the door yet. Open it yourself and see." Minetz calls back to him with a sort of childish stubbornness.
Tharen pushes his way in. "Kyra?" he calls out.
"I told you she's not here."
"Well she's not at Whitehall either," frustrated he adds. "Shes always has to make everything so difficult. She better not be in trouble I swear."
Minetz clenches his paws and pulls down on his ears. "Kyra is fine, she's the best." He releases his ears and they spring back into their upright position.
Tharen puts on half a smile. "I wish I could have just a small piece of your optimism."
Minetz pulls out his medallion. "I'll keep all my pieces to myself thank you." He sticks his tongue out at Tharen.
Renno stifles a laugh quietly watching from above.
Tharen finds there is nothing more to be done here and departs. The door scrapes shut
With that Minetz bounds up the stairs to rejoin Renno. He scoops the bowl from the table and offers it up to him. "Eat eat."
Renno brushes him and sighs. A stern expression of frustration returns to his face. "Can't you just leave me alone? I'm going to bed." Renno storms off for the loft leaving his vegetable soup behind untouched.
. . .
For the first time since leaving home, Kyra awakens on comfortable bedding of linen covered straw on the third floor of the lodge. She looks around the empty room. The preceptor and other workers have already left to perform their duties. Her clothing rests folded by the door. She picks up her shirt, it has been cleaned although somewhat poorly. The preceptor must have tried to wash it for me. She holds it close and takes a deep breath before putting it on. Still torn and stained from her journey it has a pleasant clean smell to it.
Outside a cart rolls empty up the hill away from the camp. It's load, fresh coal for the winter months from Ath'Regania sits in a pile by the roadside. The workers each take their turn shoveling it into buckets carrying it away to be stored. The sun shines brightly in the valley, the snow and ice glimmer from above. Kyra takes a deep breath the air is exceptionally cold left behind by the storms.
"Kyra." The faint familiar voice of the Preceptor nearly lost in the sound of the falls calls to her. "Kyra, by Miran back inside. Rest." He rushes to meet her at the door.
Kyra waits patiently for him at the top of the steps for him to arrive. "Thank you, but quite honestly I need to get home. I have friends there who need my help. I also need to see if my deliveries made it through."
He waives his paw dismissively. "Nonsense, I can give you work here in a few weeks once you heal up."
"I thought you didn't actually own the camp."
"Yes, well no. Not officially but the owner, poor old Tias. He's been bedridden for months now. I'm afraid he won't live to see the spring. I'm in charge for now."
Kyra looks at him questioningly. "He wasn't in the hostel this morning."
"No, he sleeps in the basement. He's afraid travelers will think him ill and not want to stay."
A moment of silence passes between them before being interrupted by a thunderous cracking sound. A large chunk of ice slides loose in the pool before the falls and is pushed several feet on shore. The river's surface has completely frozen over at the pool before the falls. Ice has begun to pile up on its surface from the rapids.
After the moment of fascination has passed Kyra is first to break the silence. "Thank you for your kind offer, but I need to go home."
The Preceptor puts his paw on top of her head and scratches her ears. "Good luck to you then. May Miran see you through."
Kyra looks up at him and smiles. "Thank you."
Warm and rested Kyra takes her leave. She begins the first part of her journey up the winding path along the rapids. The path hard and slick from the last run of carts but still shy of being hard enough for her claws to be of much use. Falling every so often each time taking the wind from her lungs she is exhausted by the top. The vast river valley ahead of her seems to stretch on forever.
Don't allow your strength to go untested. It is through sacrifice and hard work that we improve. Do not fear rest. We all must rest from time to time to rebuild our strength. However, idle paws are wasteful. If you have the gift of strength to spare use it.
The few hours of winter daylight draw out her journey. Her the pads of her hind paw's ache she limps by alternating which leg to put her weight on. The clear skies mock her for the sun does nothing to ease the bitter cold only worsening as it sets. The glare blinds her.
Kyra turns away from the wind the hood of her cloak doing what little it can to protect her body from the cold. Her work as a courier was not enough to prepare her for the hardship of this journey even without her injuries pushing the cart back to town would have been a challenge at this point she is unsure she would have the strength to succeed at.
The sun falls below the forest canopy outside of town. The trees welcome her, their tall thick needle covered branches embrace Kyra offering protection from the wind. She makes her way to the east gate and lowers her hood for the guards. Kyra shambles past them. They pay her little mind.
_Rivaus._The only thing on her mind. She walks slowly into the trade quarter. The streets are full of merchants.
The quarter now at it's most critical hour. The sound of wheels clattering across the cobbles as the merchants busy themselves storing their carts away for the morning and making deals to restock their wares for the day ahead.
_Over there._Her gaze narrows on some familiar faces from the trip to the coast near one of the warehouses. A two story building with wide doors to let cars in and out.
Kyra pulls her hood over her head as she approaches. The workers preoccupied meeting with the demands of merchants. She slips inside unnoticed. The dimly lit warehouse before her bares little evidence of her shipments. The carts empty in their stalls. After a short look around she calls out his name. "Rivaus!"
A moment passes, the only sound is the muffled commotion of vendors in the streets outside. The lowers her hood and prepares to shout again when a door at the end of the warehouse slowly cracks open. Around it peers the curious face of Korzon.
Kyra tenses up with fear in no condition to confront him. She takes a deep breath and stands her ground. Before either of them can speak he is pushed out of the way from behind. The door fly's open. It is Rivaus.
"Explain yourself, why are you in my warehouse?" he bellows in the form of a statement rather than a question.
"I've come to see to my shipments." she says as formally as possible leaning over from exhaustion wearing what amounts to little more than tattered rags at this point.
"You have no shipments here. Your goods were forfeit the moment you ran off leaving me to hire another in the middle of the night."
Furious she breaks demeanor and shouts back at him. "What about your responsibility you contemptible con-artist. You have a responsibility to your workers, don't you? You stood by and did nothing while this lech and his brother harassed me the entire trip," she marches forward across the warehouse towards Rivaus. "By Miran you act ignorant of the fact that he assaulted me in the night, drunk and worthless. He laid false accusations and when that didn't work to his satisfaction he kicked me in the ribs as I sit on the frozen muddied ground I was forced to sleep on thanks to his lies." Kyra marches up the small flight of steps to the platform where Rivaus and Korzon now stand.
Before she can get another word out it is Korzon who breaks first. "Enough." he shouts and pushes her backward.
Kyra stumbles her arm flails out clawing into the wood of the wall. She leaves deep claw marks in the wood. It slows her but still unable to keep her balance she falls to the bottom of the step onto the dirt floor.
Rivaus approaches Korzon from behind and shoves him over the step to join her on the floor. He flails finding nothing for his claws to sink into and lands much harder than Kyra.
Rivaus commands him. "Get back in the warehouse. I'll die before a boy like you fights my battles for me."
Korzon collects himself and walks shamefully up the steps back through the door into the interior of the storeroom.
Kyra sits on the floor holding her sides.
Rivaus walks down the steps furious.
Kyra unwilling to back down now. "Give me my goods."
Rivaus grabs her by her short black hair and pulls her to her feet.
Kyra flails but it is of little use the pain of her injuries rob her of the strength to break free.
Rivaus drags her across the warehouse to the open door and tosses her unceremoniously into the street. He slams the door behind him.
Kyra lay there on the wet cold cobblestone crying softly. No one pays her any mind.
. . .
Inside the workshop, a tense silence hangs in the air as Renno sits across the workbench from Minetz as the Thono enjoys a bowl of vegetable soup. Renno, on the other hand, continues his hunger strike.
"Are you sure,"
Renno cuts him off. "I will find my own food thank you."
Minetz sighs. "You're not going to find it in here."
Renno sighs back at him and crosses his arm.
Just then the back door opens and shuts without a knock or a word.
Minetz and Renno rush to the top of the step to see what's going on. What they find is Kyra. She walks into the corner of the lockers below and collapses on the floor facing the wall.
Minetz covers his mouth with his paws in shock.
Renno for once is the first to lay foot on the lower floor. He rushes to her side. "Are you okay?"
Kyra sniffles and replies quietly. "Leave me alone."
Renno puts his paws on her and attempts to roll her over to face him.
She brushes him off and raises her voice. "I said leave me alone."
"Don't be like that." Renno asserts himself. "You helped me now let me help you."
She elbows him away harshly. "I don't need your help."
Renno stands up and backs away from her. "Fine, I've had enough of you Anorans anyway. I'm going to bed. He storms up the steps. At the top Minetz partially in his way stands silent. Renno pushes him casually out of the way and proceeds to the loft alone.
Sometime later Minetz joins Kyra below. In his hands a hot bowl of stew for her. "Momma Kyra."
She does not respond. Her body moving with her breath indicate she lay awake.
Minetz kneels down beside her and sets the stew on the floor. Unsure what to say he strokes her hair.
She does not object.
"I'm sorry," he says and again receives no response.
End Chapter 12