The Alliance (Micah)

[Xnnn]

Winter 81, 511 A.V. After the young man who smelled of fear had fled, Xnnn waited for many moments in the shed, breathing quietly and listening, smelling the air. But peace had fallen over the forge and eventually, he turned the latch of the door and peered into the other room. All seemed tranquil, and he slipped out to draw close to the source of warmth. Knowing the heat would greatly diminish with the passing of the hours of the night, he shifted once more to his cougar form, feeling the strain. He could handle it, as long as he was sheltered. Lightheaded, he crouched down again, pressed to the warmth. The pervasive quiet stretched on, broken only by the sound of the wind that was picking up outside, hurling the falling snow like grains of sand against the window. With his senses still on the alert, he slumbered. Winter 82, 511 A.V. Having become familiar with the habits of town dwellers, Xnnn realized that the men who worked the forge would be back in the morning. He made sure to be gone long before that. The pre-dawn gloom was greatly relieved by the layer of white which lay over all, and as he slunk away, huge cat paw prints were visible in his wake. With little hope that he would find anything to eat, he still kept his eyes, ears and nose at work in the event anything would cross his path. Having no such luck, he found a crate to curl up in, and surveyed the now pristine world come to life around him with the rising sun. His stomach no longer growled – it simply ached in a way that he could hardly think of anything other than food. This city was strange – even stranger than Sunberth – whose lawlessness he could more relate to – the strong feeding on the weak. Here, the strong were too well ordered, and left no room for anyone to feed on anything, other than what they allowed. And he was coming to the conclusion that being a large predatory cat in a place like this wasn’t a benefit, when it came to procuring a meal. If he was to eat, he would need hands – with which to either beg, steal, or work. He would need clothes too, and warm ones. Well, that at least had usually not been a problem. Though of course, the number of people hanging their washing out on a snowy morning were not plentiful. Still, having resolved to try his luck in his human form, Xnnn kept to his cat self and cautiously exited his temporary shelter. It took the better part of the morning, locating clothing and foot wear, getting the opportunity to nick them and transport them back to the crate. But finally he had the items he needed assembled, and he shifted, probably for the last time unless he found something to eat – meat, and lots of it. With trembling fingers, he pulled on the trousers and tunic, boots and cloak, making sure to secure the hood about his already cold ears. He had no concept of identity papers – if he was challenged and asked to produce any, he was sunk. But he at least looked like any other denizen of Nyka, as he walked out of the alley and wandered off in search of some source of sustenance. Once again, though, he had no luck. Unlike the other place, there was no free and easy market where coins and goods passed quickly from hand to hand. The long robes were everywhere, and as Xnnn had noted for the past several days, they seemed to have the ordering of literally everything that went on. He had seen no beggars. He had seen no food that could even be stolen laying about on untended stalls or carts. There didn’t seem to be any eateries where scraps were tossed casually onto a midden heap out back. As the day progressed, his step became wobbly and his mouth dry. He had finally come to a halt before a place of business that seemed to be one where he might feasibly be of some use. It was a butcher’s shop, of sorts – though not of the variety where customers came and went and haggled for and purchased what was on offer. No, this was simply a long, low, open aired shed where men were carving up carcasses of pigs and sheep, chickens and rabbits. There were also a number of long robes standing about, watching, talking and occasionally taking charge of a delivery – though not transporting it themselves. The meat was packed on hand carts and the workers would trundle off with a long robe as guide, or escort, or guard, perhaps. Xnnn’s mouth watered uncontrollably, and his nostrils twitched. He could do work here. He knew how to carve up bodies. A pig or a sheep or a human or a deer – it would all be much the same would it not? Or he could clean up the offal – hell, he could easily dispose of it – right down his own gullet, if they’d allow it. He stood and watched, his green-gold eyes bright with imagined good fortune, his nostrils sucking in the maddening aromas. The kelvic had just begun to glance about warily, trying to suss out which human he should approach, his hands going to lower his hood so that he might take a good look all around, when a commotion at his back caused him to turn about. Several long robes were standing in a rough circle about a young man – a man Xnnn instantly recognized. It wasn’t clear what the problem was, but it was abundantly clear that there was a problem – for their voices were all underscored with both anger and a terse intensity. The vibrations wafting off the little tableau spelled trouble, and Xnnn stiffened. The last thing he wanted was to get caught up in the middle of the long robes’ power tripping. The next to last thing he wanted was to attract their attention. Others too had stopped their work and were watching the scene unfold, though none moved to intervene. Xnnn’s gaze shifted sideways. He was too close to the arguing humans, but if he tried to slip away, would he be noticed? Would anyone care? No-one knew him here – no-one except the man – Grayson he had called himself the night before. His eyes shifted back to the man who was so obviously the focus of the long robes’ ire. It was a fatal mistake. Xnnn, who had only been paying attention to the tone of the exchange and not the meaningless words, looked at Grayson just as his own frantic gaze latched onto the kelvic. Their eyes locked for a long moment. Then suddenly, horribly, the long robes turned their heads as well, each one leveling his gaze on Xnnn. He froze, terrified. “You there!” One of the monks said in a loud, stern voice. “Do you know this man?” By this time, the monk’s hand was twisted in the young man’s cloak, almost pulling him off his feet. Xnnn could only look on in confusion, not understanding why the long robes were upset with the man. He wanted to flee, but instinctively he realized that would not help matters. All he could do was answer their question. “He is Grayson,” the kelvic said, in the same matter of fact that he almost universally used no matter the situation. “He works at the forge.” Xnnn nodded in the general direction of the place where he had passed the night.

[Micah]

That his life had come to this was ridiculous. More than that. A month before he'd been the beloved son of a prior, adored by his mother and respected by most who knew him. Now he was attempting to reinvent himself in strange territory, hiding behind a new name and an attempt at a new face. As if that weren't enough, it seemed the gods themselves had it in for him. Walking from his new home to the forge, he'd been accosted by a group of monks who were convinced that he was a man he was not. Micah still didn't understand the full scope of the story, but they were slinging names and accusations and he certainly got the feeling that whoever they were looking for had really pissed someone off. Arguing with them was essentially pointless. After all, who ruled Nyka, if not the power on the streets each day? In response to his vehement protestations, they asked him to cough up one person who would vouch for him. Desperate eyes swept the crowd that had paused to watch. He knew none of them, of course. Not a single one. It was hopeless. He had escaped the wrath of his enemies and been saved by his father's foresight and love, only to die here, in another mans stead. Just as that realization was settling like lead in his gut, a familiar face turned to his own. It was the cat man. Micah was elated on first glance, as if mere recognition might save him. He realized, then, that the skin changer had no reason to speak up for him. He had no reason to involve himself in a mess involving the monks, which almost always ended poorly for the ordinary folk often involved. A monk on his right, however, recognized their locked gazes and spoke up. "You there! Do you know this man?" For a long breath there was silence, except for the pounding of his heart. The cat could shrug and turn away and it would all be over. But, he did not. For whatever reason, the voice he'd heard only once before spoke up. Spoke up to save him. The monks were disgruntled that the name and occupation he'd blessedly argued against them with was corroborated, and with much chagrin they shoved him forward. He stumbled, and fell at Xnnn's feet. Slowly, the people began to turn away from the spectacle and go back to their ordered lives. Micah, awash with relief and confusion, pushed up from his hands and knees and glanced up at Xnnn. He lifted one hand to shield the sun, which was just behind the shifter, and in doing so his crouched position nearly exactly mirrored the one in which Xnnn had begged for mercy from the snow. His expression was a mix of confusion and gratitude, and though a million questions burned on his tongue, he dare not speak them. Not within earshot of other people, who might see through the ruse.

[Xnnn]

It took no thought, no analysis. Xnnn reached for the hand, even if it was not extended to him for assistance. He cupped his other hand under Micah’s elbow. “Are you going to the forge now, Grayson?” He asked, always in that steady voice. “Do you want my help?” The young man’s face was awash with emotions, but he nodded mutely. Xnnn nodded back and helped him to his feet. He looked into those troubled eyes, not knowing the cause, but feeling the pain all the same. The hand that he still held in his own, he turned over, and carefully brushed the mud from the heel of the palm with the cuff of his stolen tunic. He released it and smoothly plucked up the other, and did the same. “Your knees are dirty too.” He said, looking at the offending joints. His great staring eyes lifted again to his circumstantial companion’s face. “But I can not clean those – unless you take them off.” He waited, as if this might be something Micah would seriously consider doing here in the middle of the street.

[Micah]

When Xnnn reached for the second hand and so casually wiped at it with the fabric of his sleeve, Micah recoiled. The brand new scar there was still something much more like a wound, and it hurt. The brand that had been placed on his palm to proclaim that he was a thief was also a point of humiliation for the Nykan, who curled his fingers into that palm and simply gave a nod of his head in the direction of the forge. Without a word he began the walk there, willing his nerves to settle after this most recent encounter. It was ridiculous, the turn of events in his life, and he could hardly believe it even as he walked away from the monks who could have killed him at their whim. Micah deviated from the path the skin changer would know led to the forge before they were as much as half way there, and soon led into his small home instead. It was spartan to say the least, but most things in Nyka were that way - absolutely simple, minimal, yet just enough. Only when the door had closed behind them and Micah felt that it was safe enough to speak at all did he turn a grateful, yet wary stare towards the other. "Thanks, for that. Back there... They thought I was someone else and they would have... I mean. Thanks." Extending the wrong hand for a proper shake, as his other was still throbbing, Micah ventured out to make a proper introduction. "I'm... Grayson. But you already know that. Who are you? And... what?"

[Xnnn]

Whatever Xnnn might have thought of the brand, or of Micah pulling his hand away, he made no comment or protest. When the young man gave a nod, Xnnn meekly walked beside him, not knowing how he could help, but happy that somehow the monk situation had been left behind, for the moment. As they veered off in the wrong direction, again, Xnnn only followed the other’s lead, his only regret being that the smell of the abattoir grew fainter in his twitching nostrils. Approaching the new destination, Xnnn could guess it was where Micah’s lived, for it smelled strongly of him, on the path leading to the plain door. That the accommodation was Spartan was lost on the kelvic. He had yet to see anything nicer. To his eyes, the room exemplified one precious commodity – warmth and shelter. Now if there was only a bit of that other essential basic – food. He sniffed, but Micah was talking to him, and he turned to look at his new acquaintance. “I told them what they wanted to know,” he said, a bit confused as to why that would merit ‘Grayson’s’ thanks. “I’m glad they let you go.” He looked at the proffered hand, not knowing it was the wrong one to extend, but knowing that this was how men greeted one another – he had seen it often in Sunberth. Placing both of his hands around Micah’s, he shook it vigorously. “Grayson. Yes. I remember. I am Xnnn.” The word came out as easily as breath from the kelvic’s lips, but was, as always, almost unpronounceable in the common speech. It sounded like a mix of hiss and snarl and expletive, all rolled into one. Xnnn thought a moment, back to the time of heat, in the tall grass, and his friend there, before adding wistfully, “But my friend called me Achym. I think I like that better.” “I am kelvic.” He said the word carefully, as Elymas had done. “And Drykas. And the rest I don’t know.” He shrugged. He was still holding Micah’s hand, and he looked intently into those deep blue eyes. “Do you have any food, Grayson?” he asked, almost plaintively.

[Micah]

"Achym," Micah accepted with a nod, consciously choosing to ignore the strange noise Xnnn made initially. How could such a bizarre string of sounds be considered a name at all? When he professed to be a kelvic, it all made a bit more sense. Micah had never knowingly met one, so the experience was new to him. He stepped back, lifting his hands together to idly cup the throbbing one without really thinking of what he was doing. "Food. Oh, yes, of course." Perhaps this was the demand, then, that this Achym would make. The debt could be settled with food? Fair enough. Micah had spent many days and nights at the forge, and so there was a bit of a stockpile of his rations. He retrieved them from the old cupboard, at least in part, and pushed the lot across a small table towards where the kelvic stood. Stale bread, a small portion of smoked meat, and an equally small block of cheese that had long since started growing fuzz. "There'll be more, tomorrow. If it isn't enough." Micah stood uncertainly for a moment, wondering if he should ask out loud if it would be enough. What would be enough, to repay the debt he now owed the skin changer? "Oh. I have some wine. It's kind of terrible, but ..." When he lifted the wineskin to offer it, a trail of ants skittered out of the top angrily. Micah cursed and swatted them away, dropping the container back to where he'd stored it. "Guess not. Water? There should be some clean water, somewhere around here." He could always melt snow.

[Xnnn]

Xnnn felt the saliva flow into his mouth at the sight and smell of the food. Some exposure to humans, and certainly his years with the Zith, had taught him that he should wait until the dominant one indicated that he could eat. But other interactions that he had seen led him to believe it was equally as appropriate to engage in a free for all and winner takes as much as he can. So he hesitated. This Grayson, though, made mo move to eat, and seemed content to let Xnnn have the food. Ignoring the slightly doubtful offer of water, Xnnn’s hand snaked out and went for the smoked meat first. He didn’t like cooked food, but he wasn’t about to turn picky. He never had been – food was far too precious to ever waste a morsel. Down it went – he barely chewed it – and the moldy cheese went the same route. The kelvic was already gnawing on the bread, which was large enough that he could not wolf it down whole, by the time he had swallowed enough to have a semi-empty mouth. Around the dry wad he said, “Water would be good. Thank you.” Another ripping tear at the loaf and Xnnn frowned at the look he saw on Grayson’s face. With a guilty start, he lowered the greatly reduced hunk of bread and extended it to his host. He must have been in error. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you wanted any. Here – please . . . “ The last thing he would want was to deprive this man of food, even if it meant he went hungry himself. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking – this seemed to be a problem he had frequently, especially when he was hungry.

[Micah]

"No," Micah insisted, with a shake of his head. He couldn't find the water, and so his only recourse was to stoke the banked fire to life, and to venture out to fill a small tin pot with the white stuff that had blanketed Nyka overnight. Didn't take long at all for it to melt, and he poured it into a simple cup which he slid across to the ski-, no, to Achym. "There will be more. Food every day, in Nyka. I'm fine." In truth, his stomach was growling in complaint, and he'd eaten very little in several days time. He could tell that the hunger he faced with new eyes was worse than his own, however, and he couldn't bring himself to intervene. Besides, it was evening the score, wasn't it? This Achym had helped him, and now he was returning the favor. "You're not registered? How did you get in? How do you plan to survive, Achym? The monks, they'll... strangers are not welcome here. This isn't a good place to be without permission." Micah didn't mean to be as negative as he undoubtedly sounded, but he didn't understand. Why would someone come to Nyka to starve?

[Xnnn]

With that simple negation, Xnnn tore into what was left of the bread, literally, making it disappear before Micah had even left the tiny room. He waited expectantly, chewing with determination at the stale fibers, then watched Grayson melting the pan of snow with interest, and wondering mildly if the assertion that there was to be more meant today. He swallowed the water quickly as well, with an animal’s tendency to fill up on what was needed. No sense in being dainty about any of this. He tilted his head a bit at Grayson’s questions, hearing the critical tone and taking them to be accusatory even if they were not meant to be. His eyes dropped, not quite understanding what he had done wrong. But he knew full well that Nyka was not a good place to be – he completely understood that. “I didn’t mean to come here, Grayson,” he said quietly, his fingers now resting lightly on the table beside him. “I was chasing fish. And then I stayed with the captain.” Xnnn shrugged. That memory was a strange one. “I ran off as soon as we got . . . here . . . Nyka?” The sound of the city’s name was still strange to him. “I – I . . . “ He paused. He didn’t understand exactly what the young man had said, so he wasn’t sure how to reply. Some humans were kind – like Elymas had been. Many were not – like the long robes. His eyes lifted to Grayson, almost involuntarily. He needed help, but he didn’t know if he should ask. But Grayson had fed him. Grayson had left him to the warmth of the forge. And he had said thank you to Xnnn, for saying his name earlier. Grayson seemed like one of the kind ones. Plus they had something in common, Xnnn knew. They were both afraid. He shook his head, his hand going to twist a bit in the unfamiliar feel of the material his body was wrapped in. “Can you do that Grayson? That thing you just said? So I can stay?” He sighed. “I – I don’t know how I will live here. You are right. It is not a good place. Not for me. Not for you maybe?” His eyes searched the human’s. “I’m scared too, Grayson. I don’t like the lon – the monks.” “I am a stranger. Are – are you a stranger too? Is that why you are afraid?”

[Micah]

Out of the mouth of babes. Achym wore the body of a grown man, or a cat, but Micah was quickly concluding that he did not think like one. It was almost endearing, or would have been, if Micah had met him a few months prior. Now it just sort of took the wind out of the Nykan who realized that he could hardly be responsible for keeping himself alive and safe, much less someone else. Besides, if he was caught fostering an outsider, things could get bad for him quickly. And the gods only knew how much Micah needed to avoid trouble. "No," Micah said softly. He'd never known a day outside of Nyka. He wasn't a stranger. Or was he? Brand new to a different quarter, a different life, he felt like one. "Yes. Just not the same kind, Achym. I am allowed to be in Nyka. I cannot get you papers. Not... right now." He couldn't risk the attention. Just going over all of this in his mind made Micah realize how perceptive the kelvic was. Fear ruled his life. It was exhausting. "No, Nyka is not a good place for you. Or for me, for that matter," the human said, collapsing into a chair at last. "But it is where we are today, yes? And tomorrow they will bring food enough for one person. I will share that with you, until you figure out... what to do." Micah regretted the offer instantly, but his sense of indebtedness wouldn't let him retract it. Achym had saved him. Now, maybe, he'd do the same. Keep the skin changer alive until he made a plan of escape.