[TheChapel]Ain't Gonna Tell You Where He Comes From(Veldrys)

[Syllke Skyglow]

Syllke considered Veldrys’ suggestion quite seriously. For the Vantha, Denval was just the first port of call on what he planned would be a lifetime of wandering about Mizahar. To see a city such as the healer had described would be fantastical indeed. “I may just do that, then.” He said, daubing at the blood on his hand, now that the wound was stitched. Some came off on the already bloodied cloth, but a lot had already dried on his skin. “Is your city far? Do you go home often? It would be amazing to see an entire city filled with people like you. So exotic looking. And if you are really serious, maybe I can come back? Tomorrow - or in a few days? I don’t need this hand,” he held up the injured one. “To paint with. And they are – very pretty. Like jewels. Some say the Vantha’s eyes are like jewels too, but yours are truly like gemstones.” Syllke was so not shy when it came to what he thought, or really about anything. He also wasn’t reserved or tactful, especially, though his candor was normally not of an offensive kind. Though that depended on the audience, of course. When Veldrys indicated he’d like to hear about dolphins, Syllke nodded. If there was one thing the Vantha liked to do in addition to art and singing, it would probably be story telling. So the boy settled right down on his perch, crossing his legs under him, and began in a voice that, even speaking, was almost like singing. “When the world was very young, and Laviku was given dominion over the seas, he took many of the creatures within its shores as wives, to bear him many children. One of these was a beautiful seal, with eyes as round as the moon, glowing blue under the waves. She had lovely, dark fur, silky to the touch, and her song was plaintive and haunting. When Laviku lay with her, she conceived a son, Nikka, who walked on land with two legs as a human would. Like his mother, Nikka had silky, thick, dark hair that hung to his waist, and shone a deep black-blue in the sun, and deep dark blue eyes, that sometimes shone grey-silver. His body was sleek and dark in color, powerful but lithe, and he could swim like the seals, his cousins. He had a voice like no other human, and when he sang, he moved all around him to tears for the sadness of the sound, though it was wonderful beyond compare. One day, when Nikka walked on the land, he encountered a beautiful, young hunter, Susitna. His dark hair shimmered with the lights from the sky, and his eyes sparked with red, a sign of his passion when he looked upon Nikka’s loveliness. They walked together for a while, and soon enough they fell in love and they lay together as well, deliriously happy in each other’s arms. But Laviku was enraged. His son had chosen a hunter for his lover – a boy who went out upon the seas and killed with his harpoon – even Nikka’s own cousins. But no amount of argument from his father would convince Nikka that Susitna was someone to be despised, and he clung to his human lover with great passion and fierceness. Nikka, realizing how angry his father was, swore to protect Susitna, and every time his lover ventured onto the ocean, Nikka was by his side. Frustrated, at last Laviku called upon Ionu for assistance. Ionu disguised Laviku as his son and when next Susitna called upon Nikka to come to him, Ionu disguised himself as the human boy and distracted Nikka, whilst Laviku traveled with Susitna onto the swell of the sea. Spotting a pod of whales, Susitna and his fellow hunters began their pursuit. Laviku, who held Susitna’s harpoon, rose up when the boy was busy looking forward out to sea, and struck him in the head with the harpoon. Before any of the other hunters could react, Laviku tossed Susitna into the water, as food for the sharks, and jumped overboard, resuming his true form. Nikka’s mother, however, had learned of her husband’s trickery, and waited by the boat. Catching Susitna in her flippers, she carried him to the shore, placing him on the beach and crying out in her plaintive voice for her son. Nikka, already in the arms of treacherous Ionu, heard her call and leapt up. Ionu, laughing, changed back into his mysterious form and fled, his job done. Anguished at what this might portend, Nikka ran to his mother’s side and sobbed with grief at the sight of his fallen lover. His long, dark hair flew about widly with his keening wail, and the sound of his misery was heard throughout Mizahar. Bending over Susitna’s cold, wet body, with his head pressed to the chest where no heart beat could be heard, Nikka made a vow. If any would hear his plea, he cried out, he would gladly give his life for that of his lover. There was one who heard Nikka’s passionate vow – Cheva. Moved by the young man’s love, grief and loyalty, Cheva came to him where he knelt beside his dead lover. With her hand on Nikka’s head, she asked, “Would you really do this for your lover?” Nikka nodded emphatically, despite his mother’s wailing. Cheva smiled, saying, “Then all is not lost, for your friend can yet be roused. Kiss him once, and he will spit out the water he has swallowed. Breathe your life into him, as yours exits your body.” Without hesitation, Nikka placed his warm lips over the chilled, blue lips of his lover. One last time, he kissed Susitna, and breathed his life back into the lungs of his love. But even as Susitna’s chest began to rise, his body changed in form. The ocean spirit of his lover filled him and he took the shape of a great fish. But the hole on the top of his head, where Laviku had pierced it with the harpoon, remained. With his last breath, Nikka dragged Susitna to the water and released him, in his new dolphin form, even as he himself fell face first into the water, never to swim again. As Nikka’s long hair floated like a cloud about him, his mother begged Cheva to have mercy and restore her son. Cheva took pity on the seal, and though she could not bring Nikka fully back to life, because of the value she placed on the deep and enduring strength of his love for Susitna, she transformed him into sea weed. His dark hair turned deep shades of green and purple and brown, and to this day, Nikka is a treasure of the ocean, providing a haven for many, many types of sea creatures, and sustenance for both man and animal, fish and bird.” Syllke finally came to a halt. “So, there – you see? Man, spirit, fish – Susitna was all of these, as are all of his descendants.” Then he added, somewhat randomly, “Now I’m hungry – for seaweed soup.” He laughed. “I should go down to the shore and collect some. Want to come? Then I’ll cook it and I will feed you - a token of my thanks.” He paused, looking for the first time uncertainly at Veldrys. “Or . . . do you only eat . . . meat?” His ‘encounter’ in Avanthal a few years ago with the remains of what had supposedly been consumed by what - he now recalled - was alleged to be a Symenestra, made him curious as to whether one would care for soup.

[Veldrys]

„Kalinor is far from here, but not as far as Zeltiva or Syliras“, Veldrys replied. „I travelled with a few traders that had come to visit us and made part of the journey on a ship. It might be faster if you travelled alone and used a different route, although travelling alone is a danger in itself.“ He tried to remember how long exactly it had taken him to reach Denval, but he found that he couldn’t. He only knew that it had seemed like an eternity. And then there was the other question that Syllke had asked. Did he go home often? „No, not very often“, he replied, and Syllke could notice a hint of regret in his voice. He missed his two sisters sometimes, but he couldn’t imagine ever coming back. The Symenestra were his people, they would always be his people, but he couldn’t bear some of the things he did. If he want back, his Web would expect him to get married, and even though he wanted to be a father, he couldn’t imagine condemning an innocent woman to an early death. He wouldn’t return until he had found a way for the women of his race to survive the birth and exist without surrogates. „You can certainly come back“, he continued, trying not to think of Kalinor anymore. „Tomorrow or in a few days, whenever your hand is healed. And thank you for the compliment, I suppose.“ With that he sat down, leaned back and listened to Syllke’s story. He had never heard something like that before. The Vantha, he decided, were really masterful storytellers. „Susitna was the first then?“ he asked as Syllke had ended. „The first dolphin? Where did the others of his kind come from?“ As Syllke talked about collecting seaweed for a soup, the Symenestra made a face. Since Nikka had been transformed into seaweed in the story, the Symenestra felt like a cannibal for a moment. But Syllke didn’t have any such concerns. So the Symenestra nodded and replied, „I would like to come. And I do not only eat meat. I also eat fruit and vegetables, although I can’t digest solid food. Soup shouldn’t be a problem though. I have to admit I’m interested in what seaweed soup tastes like. I’ve never eaten it before.“

[Syllke Skyglow]

Syllke grinned at Veldrys’ question about Susitna. “They never told us that part of the story. Maybe next time we meet, I'll have an answer for you." It amused him to think about how literal the healer's thought processes were. His reference to solid food, though, made Syllke feel a bit squeamish – for he had seen the remains of such a meal, supposedly. But soup would not end up looking like the young Frostfawn woman had – or at least he hoped not. So, he nodded. “Great. The weather is nice – I doubt you’ll need a cloak or coat. So if you’re ready, we can go.” Veldrys first was careful to put his instruments away, and give Syllke’s hand a final cleaning. But soon enough, they were off and down the hill and eventually found their way to the shore. It was quite rocky, but Syllke jumped nimbly from stone to stone. Reaching the water, it would be easy enough to gather the long, wide strands of brownish green kelp that were washed up with the waves. Syllke looked over his shoulder at the healer. “Want to help?” he asked, not knowing if Veldrys was overly particular about getting his toes wet.

[Veldrys]

„I’d love to hear your answer“, Veldrys replied. „I’m always interested in what happens after the real story has ended.“ It surprised him that nobody had wondered about that before, that nobody had asked why there were so many dolphins now when there had only been a single one in the beginning. Of course it was only a story, a legend, but still ... shouldn’t legends make sense as well? He didn’t notice Syllke’s reaction to the admission that he had problems with solid food. To him his eating habits were normal, and everybody else’s food was weird, and thus he only replied, „Let’s go right now.“ He put his instruments away and took one last look at the Vantha’s hand, and then they were already on their way towards the shore. That it was rocky mattered little to the Symenestra. He moved across the rocks as if he were moving across a flat surface. Symenestra were good climbers. His home had looked much worse than this here. Water though, especially such a large body of water, was something that he wasn’t used to. The first time he had seen the ocean he had been a little afraid, although he had not admitted it to those he had travelled with. Still, he would not embarrass himself in front of Syllke. He simply stepped into the water and started gathering seaweed, looking a little doubtful as he did so. „Can you really eat this?“ he wondered.

[Syllke Skyglow]

Syllke watched Veldrys with approval, and nodded enthusiastically at his question. “Yes, I can show you how, if you like. It’s simple.” In a short time they had gather more than enough kelp, Syllke shoving the long strands into his leather satchel. They regained the road without incident – Syllke being impressed with the way the healer negotiated the slippery rocks with seeming ease – and they made their way to the Lyceum, Syllke’s work place. He also lived there, in the caretaker’s little room at the back of the squat building. Taking Veldrys through the tower room and down a short corridor, they entered the little room and Syllke immediately went about stoking up the embers. He also pulled a simmering pot of water out from the back of the fireplace and hung it on a rod above the hearth set there for that purpose. Over his shoulder he said, “If you want to look, there are loads of my work all over.” He indicted the table, the lone chair, the floor, and another tiny table by the bed. The room was a bit messy, with finished pieces and works in progress and all the supplies he used, including all the various bits and pieces of nature he had scavenged and collected on his rambles about Denval. “This wont’ take a minute. Then we’ll make the soup.” In no time, he had the embers blazing up into a proper fire, feeding it carefully with sticks and then a small section of wood. Rising, he brushed his knees off and crossed to the table, sweeping aside half its content. Grabbing a bowl, he dumped the seaweed from his satchel into it, picking off various bits of debris that had clung to it from the innards of the pack. “First we’ll wash it – sand in your mouth isn’t very pleasant.” He poured water from a pitcher into the bowl. “Want to do that, while I get the other things ready?”

[Veldrys]

The Symenestra still didn’t trust the seaweed particularly. The long things he had gathered felt a little unpleasant, and the smell didn’t do anything for him either. He imagined that they probably tasted like a mixture of grass and wet sand. He was not an animal, and thus he didn’t eat grass. Or sand. What would the finished soup taste like? Would it be tolerable? He didn’t trust Syllke’s assurance that it would be edible. As far as he was concerned, it was an experiment that was destined to fail from the beginning. Either that or humans had stranger eating habits than he had imagined at first. He wished he had a bowl full of delicious Bruka right now. Once they had gathered enough of the strange stuff, Veldrys followed Syllke to the Lyceum. „Is that where you live?“ he asked and looked around. „Do you teach here?“ He realized that he had never asked the Vantha what exactly his job was and whether he greated all those works of art for fun or actually made money with them. While the human took care of the fire, Veldrys took a look at the things that were lying around in the small room. He didn’t appreciate how messy it was – Veldrys‘ own quarters were very tidy – but he found the things that Syllke had gathered rather fascinating. If Syllke bothered to look, he could see that the Symenestra was smiling softly. „I can do that“, he told Syllke as the Vantha asked him if he could wash the seaweed. He retrieved the bowl, put a few strands of seaweed into it and started doing just that while Syllke prepared the other things.

[Syllke Skyglow]

Syllke left Veldrys to the washing of the kelp as he lifted a wax sealed jar from the mantel piece. With his knife, he pried up the wax and smiled as the smoky scent filled his nostrils. Smoked strips and chunks of salmon soaked in fish oil lay within the jar – one of the several that he had brought with him from Avanthal. Thinking to use a fork and not his fingers as a guest was to partake of the soup as well, he pried the contents of the jar out and dumped it into the simmering water. Whole fresh fish could be used for the stock as well, but the preserved salmon would do just as well – and gave the soup a rather unique flavor. From various pots and jars and bowls scattered about the hearth, he selected an onion, dried mushrooms and wild celery. In an empty bowl he chopped these up and threw them into the fish stock. Chives, pepper and a bit of sea salt were the last to go in the pot hanging over the fire and now almost at a boil. Turning back to Veldrys, he saw that the healer had washed the seaweed they had gathered and placed it in another bowl. “Wonderful.” Syllke said enthusiastically. “Now we cut it in strips, and throw it in and let it cook – not too long.” The two stood elbow to elbow as they sliced the rubbery kelp into thin ribbons and Syllke then dumped them in the soup. “There. That will take only about twenty minutes.” He looked about the room, and made a swipe at the one chair, removing all the various items that it had housed. “Here you go. “ He indicated that Veldrys should sit. Syllke sat on the bed – the only other seating available. “So tell me, what brought you to Denval?” He was already reaching for a pad of paper and a charcoal pencil that were to hand, and he looked at his guest. “Do you mind if I do a quick sketch?”

[Veldrys]

Even though Veldrys was deeply suspicious of seaweed, his eyes lit up a little as Syllke opened the jar, and he noticed the smell of smoked salmon. Fish was a rare commodity in the underground city of Kalinor, and he considered it a delicacy. While he continued to wash the seaweed, he occasionally cast a glance at the human to see what he was doing. Some of the ingredients were the same that he would have used for a Bruka. He began to trust the human a little more and stopped being competely convinced that the soup would make him sick.

Once Veldrys had washed the seaweed, he took a knife, cut the seaweed in strips and dumped it into the soup, just as Syllke had told him. Once that was done he sat down on the chair the human had indicated.

„I came to Denval because ...“ he began. He stopped as he noticed that Syllke had produced paper and a pencil. He arched an eyebrow questioningly, but then he nodded curtly. „I don’t mind. But you have to show me the finished drawing. I want to know how you see me. I want to know if I really look like myself.“ He had to admit that he felt honored that Syllke wanted to draw him. Nobody had ever asked if he could draw him before.

„I came to Denval because I had heard that the Denvali worship the same god as my people“, he continued and leaned back in the chair. „Viratas. I had likewise heard that Denval had been isolated from the rest of the world for centuries after the Valterrian. The Valterrian affected my people greatly. I hoped that I would find a few answers here. I wanted to know more about the way the world had been before.“

As he said this, his eyes darkened. Before the Valterrian his people had lived on the surface, in the jungles of Falyndar. Their venom hadn’t been as potent then. Their women hadn’t died. There had been no need for surrogates, no need to let humans die for them.

Veldrys had grown up in Kalinor, he had never known the old world – nobody in Kalinor remembered it – but still, he couldn’t help but miss it. He couldn’t help but mourn for something he had never seen with his own eyes, yearning for it.

When he had been a boy, when he had started working as an apprentice at the Purging, he had often dreamed that he would be the one to discover a way to end his people’s suffering, that he would bring back the old days. But it was arrogant to assume that he would find a solution to a problem that others had occupied themselves with for decades. He wasn’t any better than they were.

„But I stayed because I found something that I never expected“, he added, trying to push those unpleasant thoughts from his mind. „Friendship. Acceptance. The people of Denval have almost begun to see me as one of them. They let me treat their wounds, and they come into the Chapel to pray with me.“

[Syllke Skyglow]

Syllke listened as his hand moved across the sheet of paper, his mind in that transitory state between thinking consciously and simply feeling instinctively. His eyes shot up to glance quickly at his guest, but for the most part they remained fixed on the page. He paused long enough to reach absentmindedly for another stick of color that lay in the jumble of things on the tiny bedside table, and once again his hand swept in light arcs. As Veldrys spoke of his acceptance in Denval, Syllke’s eyes once again went to those light violet ones, and he frowned a bit, as if in doubt - about something. With a few more passes of his fingers, he stared critically at his creation, tilting his head to the side. Slowly, he laid the oily crayon back on the table, frowning. “Tell me of your race, Veldrys. Why do your people have claws and hide in the dark?” Syllke’s eyes lifted one last time to the healer and he said simply, “Here,” as he passed the drawing over to him, a troubled look on his youthful face. Somehow, the sketch had metamorphosized into something entirely unexpected. An image had flashed across his mind’s eye as he worked – the body in the snow – and what the bounty hunter, Anthony, had said – the possibility that the gruesome death might have been the work of a creature such as Veldrys. No – that wasn’t possible, Syllke thought, looking at the healer so serenely ensconced in the chair across from him. Somehow, as was sometimes the case, his mind had forced his hand to incorporate some part of that memory into the sketch, and the result was . . . perplexing. Disheartening. Sylllke wished that he could erase the blood red stains. But he would not have – even had it been possible. Nor would he have kept Veldrys from seeing the drawing. Neither would have been . . . honest.

[Veldrys]

As Syllke looked at him, as if he were in doubt about something, Veldrys met his gaze. He suddenly began to doubt his own statement. Was he really accepted? Had he really become a part of Denval? Or was he lying to himself? Did they secretly see him as an evil, venomous creature that had come to steal their daughters and rape them? What did they say about him when he wasn’t nearby? Was he trustworthy? In Kalinor he had helped those that had participated in the Harvest. He had made sure that the surrogates lived long enough to give birth. Sometimes, in rare moments, he wondered whether he should just go back there and do his duty to his people. It would be the easiest way, the least effort.

„My people fled to the underground during the Valterrian“, he replied as Syllke asked him why they hid in the dark. „It was the one safe place for them. The magic that was everywhere then changed them. After a while they found they were unable to resume their previous lives. As for why we have claws ...“ He paused and glanced at his hands. „Before the Valterrian we lived in trees. We probably had claws even then. We need to be able to climb well to survive in the subterranean caves that are our home now.“ Those claws could also be used to hurt another being, to kill, but this was something he decided not to tell the human.

He accepted the finished drawing from Syllke, furrowing his brow as he did so. „It’s ...“ he murmurred and looked at it. He stopped and shook his head. He didn’t know what to say. The drawing wasn’t exactly bad. It was interesting. Artistic. In a way Syllke had captured exactly what the Symenestra were about. Veldrys just wasn’t sure if he liked it. There was so much red. Were those red stains blood? He looked at Syllke, vaguely troubled.

„It’s a good drawing“, he said. His voice was very soft. „But unusual. I’ve never seen a drawing in that particular style before. What were you thinking when you made it? Why did he choose not to be realistic? Why did you pick those particular colors?“