Captivity & Complexity

JP with Omni and Lorem

Zar'tir aka Haven - Sentinel Island

As they took their leave from the ice house, young Joybel turned to Gonyaul, "Why didst thou cause Azari's work to wane?" she inquired, tilting her head, her eyes searching his hands, face, and body for an answer.

Ylja interjected, "He did not do it on purpose, Joy."

"Then how? Thou body markings? Be they wards, 'gainst magik?"

Gonyaul abruptly came to a halt as Joybel did an about face, so as not to collide. She was looking at him funny, as if taking him apart and putting him back together. He didn’t have to wait long to understand why.

His first response was answered for him, more or less, so he moved on to the next questions.

Gonyaul put his body markings along his arm on display. The beautiful calligraphic Vauxian script looked like a well-designed skin discoloration from a distance. Up close, it was obvious it was intelligible design. “These marking are kagim. They explain the great design and moral law. They are for learning, remembering and hope.” By hope he meant more than just a feeling, he was referring to goals, pathways and agency.

Joybel’s face scrunched up in confusion, trying to work through his modern Helian. But that wasn’t the problem. Her 6 year old brain didn’t know anything about “kagim” or “great design and moral law”.

Ylja jumped in again to assist, “Grandmother speaketh 'tis like the Vaux have an unseen muscle, that worketh of its own accord. And his sinew to quell magik shall wax stronger in our company."

“Aaah,” said Joybel, understanding it a bit more.

“Gonyaul. Let us break for a midday meal. We cannot venture into the jungle to forage without a Vorlokur.” said Ylja, as she led him to the large communal that stood near the center of the village.

Gonyaul had to really pay attention when they spoke. Though it was understandable, they turned phrases in unexpected ways. He didn’t realize he was leaning closer, as if that would help.

He nodded to her suggestion. Technically, he was a prisoner after all and didn’t have much say in their itinerary; however, he appreciated that she made it seem like he did.

“What is a vurlokr?” He asked with a slight mispronunciation.

"A Vorlokur is a protector. One who is versed in the arts of battle and magik, who guards us from harm. Aunt Draza, she is such a one." Her voice carried the innocent pride of a child emulating the grown-up tones she often overheard. "For tonight's feast, Grandmother hath requested a special fruit. Draza could lead us in our search."

They continued to the communal hut, which was built into the hill and partially obscured by large-leafed trees. The group ascended the stairs and walked inside. The interior of the communal hut was spacious and warmly inviting, designed in a semi-circle to accommodate most of the village for shared meals and gatherings. The structure was built with sturdy wooden beams and thatched roofing, giving it an open, airy feel. Seating was done on the floor along a row of several mats made from soft reads or cloth.

The walls of the hut were adorned with colorful tapestries and woven hangings that depicted scenes of village life, local wildlife, and mythological tales significant to the Allosi culture.

The ceiling was high, supported by visible rafters where small lanterns and bunches of dried herbs and flowers hung, filling the air with a subtle, earthy fragrance. At the center of the hut, a large open fire pit provided a means to cook large communal meals. The pit was surrounded by stones, and above it, a metal framework supported pots and griddles used for cooking.

A man and a woman, brought in platters of freshly cooked fish, bowls of aromatic rice, and baskets filled with tropical fruits and vegetables. Their presence was quiet and respectful, yet Gonyaul noticed their unique appearance. Their skin was an earthy tan, and their faces were adorned with patterns of paint. Their hair, jet black; contrasting the silvers, light browns, and white-golds of the Surathi. Gonyaul knew these two must be from the native Kidata people that he had seen watching from the cliffs, but these ones wore the same attire as the Surathi fishing village.

Gonyaul couldn’t believe his good fortunate, it was almost too much to be grateful for. Since his capture he had been intentionally deprived of proper nutrition at regularly decent intervals. Before that wasn’t much better, as he recalls many a stretch in the wild where survival was difficult and hunger was ever present.

Yet before him now was an enjoyable atmosphere, people, decorum and by comparison to the more recent past, a magnificent feast. His mouth salivated at the delectable aroma and sight of the meal.

He was curious though about the Kidata servers. He asked Yija, “Are they prisoners like me?”

Ylja hesitated for a moment before answering Gonyaul's question about the Kidata servants. “Aye… and nay,” she replied, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Some didst choose to forsake their former tribe and aid us, whilst others were less willing… and at first found little joy in their servitude. Methinks, ’tis a matter most complicated. Perhaps mine Aunt can explain it better?” She tried her best to answer, unaware of the full stipulations of their captivity.

Gonyaul was left still unclear after her explanation. He decided to bring it up with her Aunt when the opportunity arrived. “What do you mean, why do you think it is complicated?” He wasn’t trying to figure out what was going on with that question, just what did Yija personally believe about it.

Ylja bit her lip, grappling with how to explain her understanding of the situation. Then she spoke softly, her voice tinged with the innocence of her age yet trying to convey the weight of the issue. "Well, the Vorlokur are not known to take captives… thus, there must be an important reason for the ones that are kept... alive."

Curiouser and curiouser. Kept alive? These two slaves seemed to be compliant, what would cause them to do so if such hostility waged between them and the Surathi he wondered.

Gonyaul decided to change tactics by asking another question. “How do you think people should treat other people, Yija?”

Ylja’s youthful innocence wavered slightly as she grappled with the realities of her surroundings.

“Well,” she began, her tone reflecting the caution of her people, “We are taught to be kind to each other, and to be wary of others, for not all who reside outside of our village are friendly. We must guard and protect the ones we love, be ever ready to defend our kin and home from those who might wish us ill… The jungle hides both beauty and danger, and the Kidata… they bring fear to our hearts… they are known to snatch our people… and… feast upon them.” She lost her appetite and put down the food she was eating, reflecting on not speculation, or teaching, but experience.

Gonyaul frowned as he realized her reflection to his question brought her sadness, and perhaps rekindled grief. That was not his intention. He put a comforting hand on her upper back, unsure if that would get him in trouble, but compassion required it to be so.

“It hurts to lose people and realize evil does exist.” Suffering and malevolence destabilized security, installed despair and reduced the meaning of life to be absurd. If one were to give in to its call, resentment and anger would set in like a rot that corrupted the individual to become that which inflicted the very pain upon them. Gonyaul’s eyes watered as he thought about such things, in addition, to thinking of those he had lost in his life too.

Gonyaul sniffled and then a smile blossomed upon his face. He looked to her and beamed with confidence, “We are going to do something about this. The smallest of light can show the way in complete darkness. We start by treating others as we would like to be treated, remembering we all have high value by the very nature of life. Even those that transgress against us.”

Ylja went back to nibbling on her food, pondering Gonyaul’s hopeful words. “With thy help we can defeat Y’ghotan. Thou must become strong so make certain to eat well.” she said softly, her voice tinged with the advice of her elders and a bit of hope.

She didn’t have to tell him twice. Gonyaul hadn’t had such a fine meal in what felt like ages. He savored every bite and would have made a chef blush by his affirming sounds of approval. It was delicious and he was right to show his appreciation for this generous feast; he thanked the Surathi and should unconditional kindness as well to the Kidata.

“Y’ghotan? Is that the scary invader of dreams?” He asked.

Ylja nodded solemnly, "Aye, Y'ghotan… the ancient one. Of flame and shadow. It creeps into dreams, spreading fear and darkness," she said, her voice low as if afraid to speak the name too loudly. "Didst the daemon come to thee again?”

Gonyaul nodded without words. It was clear he was thinking about the unsettling experience as the gaze of his eyes looked inward. He realized his prolonged silence was probably making the threat of this darkness seem more credible.

Gonyaul nudged Ylja. “I hope Y’ghotan keeps making the mistake of visiting me.”

Ylja blinked, puzzled at first by Gonyaul's words. ‘Why would he wish for that?’ Then a tiny smile tugged at her lips and she nodded as she chewed. "Mayhap each visit gives thee strength to defy him further." she said.

With that, she scooped up the last of her meal, her spirits visibly lifted by the thought.

Gonyaul hadn’t thought of it that way. He wasn’t known for his ambition on accumulating power and might to wield over others. He corrected her, “Perhaps, but I was thinking more along the lines that the only way one can truly know someone else is if they reveal themselves. Like you and me. The only way I will ever know you better is if you reveal who you are to me.”

Thinking that his words might not fall in line with the warrior like approach the Surathi favored, he added. “And … know thy enemy, correct?” It was a saying he had heard trained fighters use before.

Gonyaul winked; he was still uncoordinated with the gesture, but it was at least cute in the failed attempt.

She paused, thinking over his last addition, then nodded. “Aye, to know thine enemy is to be forearmed.”

They finished their meal and prepared for the next part of the day’s tasks.