Disclaimer: The following is a complete work of fiction, spun from my imagination and is in no way meant to resemble any real person, place or organisation. This story will eventually contain sexual situations between consenting individuals irrespective of age, race or gender, so if this could possibly offend you or is illegal in your area then please read no further.
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The Oracle of Bones
Chapter 1
Lendra stood at the edge of the plateau looking down upon the cloud shrouded valley far below. To the south, the edge of the world stretched out in shades of white and grey for as far as the eye could see.
Monsoon season had come to the world below, and at this time, the sea of green that was the rain forest was covered from sight. By late afternoon, after the rains had passed, the Great Green would once again appear. At this time of the day Lendra could pretend the world was the Plateau and the Plateau was the world.
It had rained last night and filled the great river, this she noted absently as she stared at the play of dawn's first light, casting rainbows against the cliffs as it surged and disappeared off the edge of the world.
To her it was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen and took her breath away each time she looked upon it. A primal battle between water and air took place here with neither winning as the once mighty river dissipated, much of it into a fine mist. The sheer volume of water allowed it to maintain its form, on its journey to the Great Green thousands of meters below.
It was here she had found her affinity as a water-crafter and it was to here she returned to everyday, to practice and pray; to drink in the power and majesty of the area and etch it upon her soul.
Grandmother Adelai noticed early the emergence of her power and efficiently organised for her to move to the House of Water as tradition dictated. As a young student of water crafting she was encouraged to return to the source of her inspiration to practice and remember.
Mornings were dedicated to meditation, practice and personal study while evenings were set aside for instruction and lore giving with the old women who wove into long cords the stories, songs, and litanies as they wove with their words.
Grandmother Takeda was an old and powerful water crafter who shared her wisdom through stories, tales and parables; old songs and chants, all handed down through the ages in a long line of water crafters.
Today's lesson was the telling of another of the many tales of Aletai.
The morning started as any other summer morning, the bright orb crested the horizon and burned away the mists that had rolled in the previous night, covering the ground with sparkling jewels of dew that glistened in the early light.
Aletai had awakened early that morning, he embraced and took his leave of his beloved and journeyed forth through the surrounding forest, leaving his village behind. He packed for a week and headed off, up river towards lake Orakio intending to hunt and trap runkhe.
He had enough food and all the tools he needed to last a week or two without having to hunt or forage. Comfortable with his arrangements, he took a path through the woods he had travelled many times before.
The day had been pleasant and warm and the path was well worn, enough to allow easy travel through the forest so he covered some distance on the way. The forest was bright and full of life and a sense of peace pervaded the air. Instead of traveling the main route following the river to its source; he decided to follow a tributary of the main river and stumbled upon a nice little clearing he had never seen before.
Aletai sat down and opened his pack; taking out dried sweet potato chips, some denario jerky and a water-skin. Chewing on his jerky and taking a swig out of his water-skin every now and then, he let the beauty and serenity of the place infuse and surround him.
Before long he started to become sleepy, and a peaceful lethargy stole into his bones as weariness settled in.
'This would be a nice place to settle for the night' , he said to himself as he began to unpack his satchel. He wasn't in any particular hurry to reach his final destination, so what harm could come from a half days delay?
He set out his sleeping mat and built a lean-to using his rain cape. The night, he could tell was going to be a hot one. It had been a hot day and the pebbled clearing acted like a heat trap. Large black granite boulders on either side of the stream and rolled pebble banks gleamed brightly in the noonday sunlight.
With his camp all set for the night to come, Aletai looked with longing at the cool waters of the stream which meandered merrily on its way to join with the greater river system. He decided a swim was in order to help cool and cleanse him from his days travels.
He stripped off his taparei and carefully rolled it up, placing it beside his pack and bedding before running quickly across the sunbaked rocks. he dived naked into the gentle cooling waters of the stream and was immediately enraptured. The purity and gentle serenity of the place surprised him and there was little that could have prepared him for what happened next.
Aletai had trained as a warrior since he had take his first steps. Battle and glory were all he had ever know, all he had ever aspired to until this moment, until his feet first touched these waters but from that moment on nothing would ever be the same for him.
Something in his heart had been awoken. Something long hidden, nameless and unknown which possessed him so suddenly he was at a loss to comprehend it let alone attempt to combat it. Suddenly it was dark, the three moons were high in the sky and the stars glittered brightly overhead. His mind perceived that something was amiss but try as he might nothing could shake the serenity that had overcome him.
He was aware on one level that he had been standing in the same place for hours but none of this mattered to him as those hours passed though his fingers like water.
He blinked once more and the sky was now infused with a golden radiance as the great orb once again began its trek across the vaults of heaven. This time his mind screamed at him that this was wrong, this perception was alien. It railed and fought to take back control, to end the timelessness and sought hard to return to what it knew to be reality, but the serenity could not be denied.
He blinked once more and the great orb now stood at its zenith, having traversed the sky realm in mere moments. It was then that his mind finally surrendered the illusion of control and in that moment his true power was unveiled to him.
He could feel each individual water molecule that passed around him and became aware of how each played an integral part in the greater whole and on a more subtle level, how each could be manipulated by this new found awareness within him.
With the surrender came the power to once again move his limbs, and his body obeyed without question as though a whole day motionless was as nothing.
Instead of getting out of the water he move deeper within the stream, his body and mind merging effortless with the unknown awareness within, which in turn merged with the water that surrounded him. Each little current known as intimately to him as his own heart beats, each eddy and swirl as familiar as a breath. The fish and eels that lived therein rippled across his awareness, unable to hide from his all encompassing knowing. The sense of oneness and unity was astounding and all other considerations, all other worldly obligations were as nothing to him any longer. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and months turned into years as he developed his grid and his mastery of water crafting increased.
When hunger came upon him the stream provided, when fatigue beset him the stream carried him to its banks so he may rest before calling him once more to begin his work anew. His every need was provided for by the waters of the stream until finally, after seven years had passed within the space of what felt like seven days he emerge a being made anew, recast in a template of power the likes of which our people had never know before. Other crafts existed before this time, but this was new and had applications none of the others could duplicate.
Meanwhile, back in his village life had moved on without him. Many a group had been sent forth to find him and bring him back but the power he unveiled had the side effect of cloaking his presence,preventing anyone from finding him. And so it was that after the first year of his disappearance his people mourned his loss, and life continued. All except for one.
Once a warrior with a warriors battle hardened physique his many years spent in contemplation and study, subsisting on only what the stream provided had burned away much of the muscle that had once graced his frame and he was now whipcord thin. Gone was the haughty strut of a man who's training and purpose was to bring war and death to his peoples enemies, replaced instead by a man who's movements flowed as effortlessly and gracefully as the stream with which he had communed for all these years.
Serenity now ruled within his mind, body and soul and all thoughts to do harm to another had been washed away like so much detritus. The man who stepped once more upon the path towards his home was so different from the man who had set forth as to be completely unrecognisable.
Unrecognisable to all that is save one.
When he reached his village, clothed once more in his taparei and uraika cloak he was challenged, for the clothes he wore bore the patterns and decorations of his tribe and all were currently accounted for.
He declared himself to the warriors who stood guard at the palisade walls reciting his family ties and lines of decent clearly and without error, but they couldn't believe that the person who stood before them was the same man who had left all those years ago. A commotion began and Lanaika was sent to investigate.
Lanaika was Aletai's closest friend and childhood sweetheart, and all these years he had been gone he had mourned his loss harder than anyone else, never taking another man or woman to his bed for so great was his sorrow that none could ease his pain no matter how hard they tried.
And many had tried for Lanaika was a beautiful man who's strong and chiselled features stirred the passions of many a maidens as well as many a mans desires. But the years of suffering and longing had taken their toll on him. Worry and grief lines marred his once smiling countenance and his happy go lucky nature had been all but snuffed out.
Hearing of this strangers appearance and claims to be his beloved nearly unhinged him but he had to see for himself. If the person was false he was determined to slay him himself, but if he were true... Lanaika didn't know what he was going to do.
It wasn't long before he came to the main gate and at first he couldn't see anything because of the crowd of people who had turned up to view the strange new visitor who claimed to be one of their own. He moved through the crowd as first one, then another noticed him and respectfully made way so he could arbiter the situation.
Once he had reached the front of the crowd and stepped into the clearing his breath caught in his throat and his heart hammered in his chest, a feeling of giddiness passed over him and he nearly passed out as his body, heart and soul recognised the one who stood before him as the other half of him.
He dropped to the ground and wept, his legs no longer able to support him as all his grief and loss poured from him and was replaced by relief and a longing to know what had happened. Though every fibre of his being screamed that this was his love, the changes that had taken place were palpable.
Gone was the one proud and noble warrior whose victories were still sung about around many a camp fire. Gone was the muscled Adonis who had inspired many a lust filled dream from both women and men alike.
In his place stood a much changed version of the man he had once been. His once short cropped warriors mane had grown long over the intervening years, almost reaching his lower back and it rippled like a waterfall.
Where muscles once stacked impressively one atop the other now only whipcord thin muscles showed beneath an almost gaunt countenance. Once clean shaven, now a full beard covered his face.
About the only thing that hadn't changed was the colour of his eyes, still an amazing blue, but now they burned with secrets and something more, something almost unworldly.
Aletai rushed to where Lanaika had dropped and wrapped him up in his arms. Power rippled from him in waves of love and concern that everyone present felt and a collective groan escaped their mouths as they succumbed to the force of emotions shared by the two men.
Aletai tilted Lanika's head back and gently kissed away the tear tracks from his face tasting the salt upon his tongue like a bitter pill.
"Love of my love, life of my life, heart of my heart! I am so sorry for the pain I have caused you, for the loss you have suffered in my absence. I have returned for you and if you will have me I promise to never let you feel this way again", Aletai declared in a voice both thick with emotion and soothing as a balm.
Lanaika couldn't speak, he just nodded and swallowed around the thick lump in his throat and settled into Aletai's embrace drinking in the love he had been so starved of while he tried to stem the sobs that still wracked his body.
Aletai stood, lifting the man he loved in his arms with an ease and grace that surprised many of those gathered around, for while he was thin, now a great power flowed through him that gave him new wells of strength unknown to others. With Lanaika in his arms he strode forward through the gate and into the village, the people around him parting like a river around a mountain.
Onward they continued until they reached the chiefs house with more and more people following in his wake and once outside he declared himself again before beginning his tale and demonstrating what he had learned.
From that day forward his role changed, no longer a warrior, Aletai became the first water crafter and healer; his power unmatched even by those whom he identified with the potential but always did he remain at Lanaika's side until the end of their days...
...and that little one was the end of that." Grandmother Takeda finished with a satisfied smile.
Lendra however was confused at the point of the story, but didn't want to look like a dullard. The expression on her face though gave her away and Grandmother Takeda was nothing if not observant.
"You look confused little one, what has you so perplexed?"
Lendra thought hard for a bit, trying to correctly frame the question that was weighing heavily on her mind.
"Grandmother Takeda, please forgive my ignorance but I fail to see the lesson within the story. Please enlighten me if it pleases you"
Grandmother Takeda smiled and paused, considering the question thoughtfully before answering.
"The lessons contained within this particular story are many fold. The first lesson to be learned from it is that no matter what plans you may have for yourself, no matter how much you may think your life path is set in concrete, fate and destiny may have different designs for you."
"The second lesson we can learn relates directly to water crafting. Aletai was our first ever known water crafter and as such many tales have been recorded of his life and exploits but how he became one is a story only told to other water crafters for only we can comprehend the connection to our element and how it can enrapture us."
"The third lesson is about the nature of our element and how subjective time can be for us to learn and perform the intricacies of our craft. For some it takes years to cultivate mastery while others it may take only a few weeks or even months. One can only learn what water will teach in the time it has to teach it. Note however that the length it takes one to master their crafting, the stronger they will be in doing so. "
"The final lesson teaches us that true love is a constant that no amount of time or distance can change and when it is found it will survive almost all obstacles and challenges no matter what it may come up against. Many more adventures did Aletai have but never again alone, for Lanaika kept him to his word and being a warrior of great skill himself, journeyed forth with Aletai until the end of their days. True love is rare Lendra and once found it must be guarded and kept like a precious treasure, for it will provide you strength when you are weak, joy through your sorrows and companionship when you feel most alone. And if you cant have it yourself guard carefully those who do so that the light of their love may brighten your days with their glow."
Lendra smiled as understanding dawned on her. She loved learning from Grandmother Takeda, she always had a way of explaining things that allowed her to fully grasp concepts, ideas and teachings that few of her other instructors could.
"Now little one, it is getting late out and it is time for you to be abed. You have another early morning tomorrow. Your waterfall calls." Grandmother Takeda said.
With that Lendra rose from her seated position, stretched and yawned and then gently kissed Grandmother Takeda on the cheek before heading out the door and down to her room and the alluring call of her bed. Her head had barely hit her pillow before she was out like a light and dreaming of rainbows cast against mist that filled a world of green far below.
Laroshtin gazed across the fire as his companion slept, his back soaking in the warmth from the flames as soft snores drifted into the night to mingle and get lost with the rest of the nights noises.
He caught himself staring againc
There was something about Kadan that Laroshtin couldnft help but find attractive. He was born and bred to the blade, with a body honed sharp as any knife and reflexes any cat would be proud to have; but still, underlying all the training and conditioning was a gentle soul who spoke little, but whose actions said much.
In the past two years they had endured much together, constantly running and hiding or battling the agents sent to hunt them down, but still more remained between them unsaid, undone and unacknowledgedc
They had fled the destruction of their home - pursued from one place to the next - fleeing a fate neither of them had asked for but to which both had become inextricably interlinked and bound. Survival, the greatest of all task masters, forged cast-iron bonds that chaffed and rubbed raw nerves and emotions. Take tonight for example; the argument they had just finished started in the most innocuous of ways but had been building for a while.
They had just finished eating their evenings rations of cured and dried manask, an edible aquatic lizard that seemed to be the main source of protein in the swamp lands that provided their current refuge, a low cave that was dry; surprising considering where they were. Kadan had gathered enough dry wood and rush down to start a fire for warmth and to dry out their personal effects, all of which varied in wetness from damp to completely saturated, while Laroshtin lit the fire and began his evening preparations.
The Divicadi swamp lands bordered both the Kedemaidi rainforest and the Manai plateau, and was - relatively speaking - safer than the snake infested Kedemaidi. The cave they found was cut into the wall of the sheer sided plateau and appeared to be an outlet for an ancient underground stream that once emptied into the swamplands many years ago. Now, it was the driest place they had seen for many a moon and they were both glad for it.
There were some days he wished that he wouldnft have to wake up in the mornings, just so that he could stop the running, the hiding, the constant movement from place to place; and Kadan could rest, could have a normal life; he could be anything and anyone he wanted to be.
Laroshtin was sure he was starting to become a little unhinged from the lack of sleep and constant movement. Two years of running and hiding, of trying to become anyone but who he was had taken its toll on him.
He would be eighteen cycles soon, well past his manhood, and would have entered into the service of the temple. Kadan would have probably started a family by now or entered the mens lodge, honing his skills a warrior or anything else he may have wanted. Instead, they were both cursed to run from a past that would let neither of them be who they truly were.
Kadan had sat staring into the fire as Laroshtin began the litany to the dead, reciting the names of all those who had passed in the genocide. It was a long list and never got any easier with each repetition. Each night they managed to stop he would repeat the ritual, fuelling his will to continue and reminding him of all those who had died so he may live.
Tonight had been different. As Laroshtin finished up he glanced over at his companion who sat still staring at the fire, a look of incalculable pain upon his face that reflected the pain in his own heart.
"Why do you do it?" Kadan asked quietly, his eyes never leaving the fire. It came out as a hoarse, pain filled whisper; barely audible over the crackle of the merrily burning fire, which seemed incongruous given the atmosphere of sadness that now permeated the air.
"What do you mean?" Laroshtin replied, the question clearly confusing him.
"Why do you do that every night? Why do you sing the names of people we will never see again, in songs and prayers no one else will ever be able to understand?" Kadans voice was still no more than a whisper but a depthless rage had entered into his voice that seemed to suck all the warmth from the air.
"It is what I have always done Kadan, you know that. I am the last remaining Singer. Who else is there to remember the old songs and teaching tales? Who will remind the world that our people once lived and breathed, had an existence that was both meaningful and precious? Who will sing to your children and the generations to follow, remind them of what was lost and where they came from?" Laroshtins voice carried with it a heat that countered the cold which had existed only moments earlier. The air seemed to almost burn with a sorrow and anger that set it to sparking.
"But why? They are gone Rosh, they've been gone for two years now and every night its the same damn thing. Every night you force me to relive that same damn day over and over. Its killing me Rosh, I don't know how much more I can take of this. I don't know if I can keep running, hiding, fearing that one day they'll find our trail and finish us off once and for all. There are moments throughout the day when I can let got and pretend, when I can forget that we lost everything but then you start that damnable singing and it all comes flooding back. Its hard enough that we have to always keep running, but hearing the songs brings me no relief, only sorrow." Kadans eyes left the fire and the tracks of bitter tears carved trails down his face that cut through the accumulated grim and dust from the days travels.
Laroshtin was about to respond with a scathing retort but seeing the pain in his longest friends face was too much for him; instead he just turned away, letting his shoulders drop and began gathering his things.
"Very well my friend. I release you..." He said before gathering his sleeping roll and moving towards the back of the cave.
"You WHAT!?!" Kadans voice echoed through the cave, resounding more in shock and surprise than with the previous anger that had once permeated if.
"I release you. I release you from the vow you swore before the elder stone to guard and protect me, I release you to be free to live your own life and make your own choices. I..." Laroshtin began to draw power and started singing a song of oath-negation.
"STOP!!!" Kadan roared at the top of his lungs, "I do not consent!"
Laroshtin turned a looked at Kadan, his eyes blazing sapphire with power and his own face was wet and tear stained.
"What. Do. You. Want. Then."
"I... I just want the pain to stop. I want it all to... I don't know what I just know that I don't want to hear that song again, thats all." Kadan replied looking at the ground now, ashamed of his earlier outburst.
"Then let me finish, because as long as I live so too will the memories and traditions of our people. As long as there is breath in me I will sing the litany to the lost each and every night. I will sing the Dawns Song. I will sing the histories and the hymns of our people. The only way out is the one I am offering. Please either let me finish or let me recant the song. Choose quickly, I can't hold it much longer..." His eyes blazed with unspent power but his voice was soft, sympathetic.
Kadan ground his teeth together before turning around and letting his shoulders sag. He sat back down, not even remembering standing, settled back to watch the fire,
"Recant the song." Kadan said quietly before lying down and pulling his blankets over without further comment.
Laroshtin sung three notes to signify the change in the song and began the chant of reversal, reforming the bonds of the oath that bound them together and released the power he had gathered to flow as it would. The sound reverberated throughout their current sanctuary with such power it caused the stone to rumble, dislodging some of the rocks and debris from a previous cave-in that had sealed it in ages past.
A small hole, big enough for someone to crawl through appeared at the top of rock fall and the cavern beyond. Fresh air was drawn into the breach like a vacuum and caused their small fire to almost die out with the sudden inrush.
It calmed quickly and the fire resumed its normal burn, with but a slight lean towards the back of the cave. Laroshtin threw more wood on the fire and Kadan hadn't moved. He lit a small branch to use as a torch and decide to see if the disturbance had shaken loose anything that might cause them harm.
He approached the newly made opening cautiously, in case anything might've slithered or scrambled out of the breach. Nothing move or stirred, so he quickly scrambled up the rock pile, carefully trying not to disturb the already unstable rock pile. He made it up high enough to where he could pear in to the darkness beyond.
Nothing suddenly appeared from the hole, nor could he really make anything out in the feeble light, what he did happen to notice however, was that the air on the other side seemed fresh. There was no stale air, noxious fumes or poisonous gases which meant this cave extended and more importantly exited somewhere.
If that was the case, they might be able to use it as an escape route and with a little clever trial trickery, they could possibly muddle their trail enough to give them some breathing room from their pursuers.
But that would all have to wait until morning.