It was fall. This, arguably, had been Raiha’s favourite season in Mura - she liked the rain that came in its bursts. Nothing like the drenching that occurred in Riverfall in the spring, where she was glad for her gills and pitied those who didn’t, because when one was outside in horizontal rain, gills were just plain useful. No one could ever deny that. But in Riverfall, though, where the climate changed so dramatically from one season to the next, it meant that getting out and stockpiling and preserving as many supplies as one could without angering the Goddess for taking more than your share. Left to her own devices, Raiha liked to keep a small inventory, and get fresh stock as necessary. She had learned in her first fall that such a thing was not possible. It was like the story of the grasshopper and the ant. The grasshopper that sang all summer and winter while he watched the ant stockpile food died of starvation when the winter came. It was a grim warning, but that made it no less a reality if she didn’t get a move on.
But what the young Akontak certainly liked about it was that she could get back to her leathers and wear them far more comfortably than she did in the summer, where she stuck to pants and skirts. But nothing, nothing made up for the feeling of well-used, well-worn, and well-looked after leather. Kanikra liked it, too, if only for the slightly more protective feeling than the cotton cloth that Raiha otherwise favoured for its practicality during the summer season. That was what she was wearing today - the leathers she had brought from Mura, another season’s wear from becoming good for rags and scraps and not much else. She would have to get some new ones soon. But the vest worked well under the woollen shirt with the long sleeves, and the pouch-like pocket on the front. Leather trousers gave way to her leather boots that she wore no matter what the season. Good, serviceable footwear was imperative in their line of work. She never knew if she might come across a copperhead in the long grasses who took offense to her disturbing their nap, or trip on something, or turn her ankle on a rock, or be stepped on by a horse who was being very deliberate about it. Her white hair had been braided into two plaits, from the center of her forehead along her hairline to the nape of her neck, where the strands had been woven to combine in one long braid.
The sun was warm, but the winds were cool and crisp, sure heralds of the impending freeze that Raiha did not enjoy last year, but had progressed to acceptance, especially with the potential for snowball fights. Diallo had chased the balls endlessly and never understood where they went when he crushed them with his strong jaws. The season was near its middle, and that meant that there was a new urgency there. She had a mental checklist of things she needed, and it meant a number of herbs and plants that they did not access to in Sanctuary’s garden. Hairyleaf, Wormwood, wild mints, wild ginger, bulbine. All of these, particularly the ginger, were on her list for today. She had a good idea of where to go that wasn’t too far out, places she had seen them in last year during this time, but she was going to be branching out a bit and exploring a little further. Last year, she wouldn’t have dreamed of such a thing, but now, Raiha had new allies in her quests for supplies-foraging, and they were as unlikely as anyone could guess.
The shadows.
She had described the plants that she was looking for to them, what they looked like, where she expected to find them, and offered secrets in exchange for what they brought back to her. A secret for a secret… it proved to be a popular trading tool, because a number of the Nightmother’s unacknowledged children brought descriptions back to her, and it sounded plenty like the wild ginger that she was looking for. To judge by their description of where it was, she had saddled up Yakini, taking Diallo, Dara and Uzima with her. Chuki would sulk, but she had flown him in the morning, and tomorrow, she would switch it up - Chuki would come hunting with her, and Uzima and her would scout the pastures for the devious little monsters who conspired to break equine legs. The one bird that Raiha wanted with her for this was Uzima, because she knew the drill. She knew how this worked, because they had done it in Mura and last year. This would be Chuki’s first season doing this, and Raiha did not want to lose Uzima’s mate somewhere along the coast, which was where she had to go. One simply did not find wooded, shaded areas in the middle of the Sea of Grass. It had that name for a reason. But she knew from her trip here almost two years ago that if you wanted wooded areas in Cyphrus, you looked along the fringes. And her sources were sending her to a copse down along the southwestern coast.
She was gone before breakfast, having taken care of her work before she left, and let Kavala know where she was going, and it was a few bells’ ride as the dogs trailed after her. Diallo seemed fond enough of the brown and white bitch that Kavala had brought back with her from Endrykas to tolerate her for a hunting trip, though Raiha knew that when Dara went into heat next spring, Diallo would definitely be her best friend. Dog aggressive, he was not. The pups had long since been weaned, and they did not need their mother to be with them at all times, and she’d seemed a good, smart dog who had lived in the Sea of Grass all of her life, and that was enough for her. They weren’t her only companions - the shadows sang, calling to her all the while, stretching out as the morning sun rose, only to come back to her. This way, Shadowplayer, this way! they told her in the language she had learned from Akajia, Makath. She knew what pace she liked from past experiences of longer riding trips, and a comfortable walk was good for her and good for her mare. The dogs trotted along beside her as she held the reins loosely in one hand, eyes on the horizon ahead as she shielded her eyes with her hand and looked around. She really needed to improve shielding. The idea of being able to block out sunlight around her face and eyes would make using Auristics a snap, even during the most sunny times of the day.
It was almost midday before she could see the cluster of trees, and let Uzima fly overhead, looking for prey within the trees. The trees were an alluring spot for her, for even though she had a perch on Raiha’s wrist, the Akontak knew that her goshawk hen missed the trees of Mura. There had never been a lack of them on Konti Isle, where Uzima had spent many a night in a tree while Raiha camped in a clearing in her sleeping roll and looked at the stars. But that was then, this was now. Uzima landed in a tree, and Raiha guided Yakini up towards the small wood while she looked around, one hand on the reins as she drew one of her flanged maces with her free hand. One never knew what to expect in things like this. It wouldn’t have surprised her a bit if a band of hogs had taken up residence in the shade. But with her back to the sun, and a dog on either side, neither of which seemed to be showing any display of warning that they were hearing or smelling something, she approached gingerly regardless, and activated her Auristics.
With the Djed focused at her gold eyes, she could now see, really see, where she was going. Reading auras was the most underrated of the arcane arts, if you asked Raiha, and the most unappreciated. Even from here, she could see the great web overhead and underfoot, and felt a bit of longing for it. One day, she promised herself, one day. Her steps slowed as she sorted out the different plants, the trees, Uzima, and listened to the absent birdsong. She knew that there were birds there, could feel their concern, which told her that Uzima had landed close to their nest. They likely wouldn’t be much of an issue unless they started making an unholy racket, and if they did, then there could be trouble. She put the mace back at her belt, for now, and unclasped the empty leather pouch from her belt. It was empty and she had cleaned it out well so that it served as a waterskin for the animals. That was the beauty of Reimancy.
Raiha put her hand in the pouch, and focused on her Djed, bringing it out as a translucent, thick gel that seemed to ooze from her skin like thickened blood. She stopped when it was half full, and withdrew her hand. Slowly, slowly, from top to bottom, she turned the Res into water. It might have been strange to anyone else, to water a horse and dogs on your own essence, but as an Akontak, she had copious amounts of it. She would not miss this much. The pouch was offered to Yakini first, and the mare dipped her muzzle into it, slurping up her fill of water. She had to repeat the process to refill it for the dogs. It had been a good thing that they had stopped at the creek for water on the way there, that was for sure... The dogs got their share, and Raiha drank from her waterskin before having yet another look around the copse of trees.
There it was, in all its beautiful green glory, the large cover of wild ginger. It wasn’t a tall plant, not this one, but it was spreading, and Raiha knew that she could harvest up to a third of it without really harming its stock. She certainly had enough room in her saddlebags for it. She would not be bruising these plants, not like she had the bear garlic last summer. She settled on her knees, inspecting the stock of the vegetation. Its aura was uniform and solid, and that was encouraging. It wasn’t dead or rotting - it was very much alive, and that was good enough for her. She blinked, and let the auras fade, for now that she had seen what she wanted. “You want a story?” Raiha asked the shadows as they gathered around her, clustering as she began to dig carefully with her leather-covered fingers. At the rousing chorus of affirmations, she rested on her knees and kept on digging while Diallo stood guard and Dara sniffed around. Yakini, bitless as usual, champed at the grasses now that she no longer had a rider on her back. “In Mura,” she began, murmuring, even as Kanikra urged her to be quieter, lest they attract attention, and Raiha dropped her voice, recognizing her sister-soul’s wisdom as she continued, “there is a lake, and they call it the Silver Lake,” her fingers dug around, gently feeling out the cluster of rhizomes, looking to free them from their bed without breaking them. “The Silver Lake is full of water, but it is not any normal type of water. It brings about visions, and sometimes imparts on people gifts that the Konti are often born with, when they are exposed to it too much. They say that Avalis bathed in that pool, and that that is why its waters are that way. Some say that she cried into it, and that her tears are what sustain it to this day.”
Why would she cry? One of them, one who had traveled at night to tell her about this copse and its contents, wanted to know.
“Maybe because she sees all, they say. Good and bad, possible and impossible, all futures, not just the one that is going to happen... One move can change everything in your future, you know,” she smiled as she freed a large, healthy chunk of fleshy roots that would certainly fill one of her saddlebags. “And some of these are so terrible that she can barely stand to see them, but she cannot shut them out, and so it makes her weep for the future,” she explained. This, they supposed, made sense, their murmurs told her as they began to discuss this amongst themselves. No doubt, some of them would find ways to contact those in Mura to find the truth of the secret. Avalis had not seen fit to bless her, so she could not confirm one way or the other about it, only repeat the stories that she had heard. And the story about the tears had been the one she had heard about most often growing up. Rhizomes secured, she turned her attention to the green, kidney shaped leaves and the rest of the plant. These were carefully wrapped in cotton to protect them, into the second saddlebag they went.
Well-satisfied with that success, and knowing that that supply should do to get them through the winter, Raiha whistled for Uzima, and Diallo and Dara shook themselves before getting up, knowing it was time to start the trip back. What started as a walk for the first bell became a trot. Uzima would have nothing to do with what she felt were shenanigans, and flew overhead rather than sit with her falconer. The trot progressed to a canter, and then a gallop, as the dogs chased after them while Raiha crouched over Yakini’s neck, staying low to try to minimize her wind resistance, arms tucked to her side lest her sleeves become sails. The breezing did not last long, and soon, exhilarated and content from the wind in her hair, Raiha straightened up and settled back down in the saddle. It was a few bells before the evening meal before the gates of Sanctuary came into view, and a dirty, but pleased and purple-cheeked from the chill of the wind teenager came up the road. She dismounted to open the gate, and Uzima perched upon her the back of her saddle. That was how anyone would have seen her on her arrival - pleased as punch. Raiha had clearly had a successful day, wherever she had gone, and the bulging saddlebags suggested a fruitful forage.
OOCThis got... well, lengthy. Sorry!
