Chapter 16: An unwelcome guest

I am a Drak’ga, the thought seemed foreign and distant. It was a civilization of tales, nothing more than hearsay, yet, in a question of hours, I had become one of them. It was hard to believe, yet everything pointed to it; every piece of me screamed it was true. I knew Spare’s words were veracious, not only because his voice was an extension of my own mind, but also because I could remember some of his past, even access a few memories of those before him.

The initial euphoria faded as I exited the slums of Lamar, taking my first steps towards the unexplored. My eyelids felt heavy; they wanted to protect my eyes from the light of the sun that was just rising on the horizon. I moved like an automaton, a wind-up toy running out of steam. One step after another, I reached the forest’s boundaries.

My eyes rose to the sky only to be met by an infinite roof of brown leaves; light barely managed to peep in from minute holes. If it hadn’t been by the stupor I was in, I would have probably collapsed right there. I didn’t realize I was still walking, somehow managing to go deeper into the forest. I lasted for some minutes, or maybe it was an hour, but eventually, I had to lie down. The exhaustion had caught up to me; I desperately needed to sleep. My eyes closed, my body wrapped in a dense thicket of grass.

I woke up to bright lines penetrating through the trees. It was clear it was daytime, but my rested body quickly told me that I had been asleep for at least one day. “Two, actually,” Spare’s voice corrected me.

Say, Spare, what do you do when I’m sleeping? It had not occurred to me before what he would be doing when I didn’t actively engage in conversation.

“I see and feel as you do, which means that when you are asleep…” he briefly hesitated, struggling to find how to put it. “It’s like staring at a dark sky on a moonless night; you are alone with your thoughts, stuck inside a complete sensory vacuum.” He felt proud of having found such an example. And, I must give it to him; it managed to get the message through with frightening detail.

Mmh, I just thought, not sure if he enjoyed that time alone or preferred when I was awake. I stood up, not without grunting too much for a boy my age, and resumed my walk. Spare invested the time in telling me about Derbb, his mentor, and some of the Drak’ga traditions I had skipped entirely. As he talked, flashes and images of the events came to me, illustrating his stories.

I exited the forest after three days of feeding out of wildlife and drinking from the Hivar. It was far from gourmet food, but it kept me alive and full of energy for what came next. The reason the trees became scarce was none other than the northern mountains. I was faced with a greater challenge, traversing the sloped and rocky terrain that those hills were.

I had some physical form thanks to my training with that drunk teacher, and maybe that’s the reason I was out of breath by the fourth hour since starting the climb instead of just after five minutes. It was hard to believe that Spare had once followed this same route with his old teacher, but he did. Luckily, I didn’t have to get to its top; just climb the first hill to reach the first inner valley. It was easy to locate; on our way down, I could see the low area with a green spot right on its middle, the forest where we should find the opening.

Apparently, it was a meeting point for Drak’ga, a stepstone before making the way to their base. It was used as a test site for newcomers and a safe harbor for Drak’gath people. In my case, it would be both at the same time; only if my first impression was good enough would they allow me to see their home.

It took me a week to descend the elevated terrain and reach the lowest point of the valley, hidden behind the tallest peak, under the shadow it cast. Perhaps it was the lack of light, or maybe it was a stormy area, but the trees grew double or triple the size of the first forest. I walked in silence, hidden under the gloom cast by those crowns, my heart pounding my chest with anxiety.

“You must do exactly as I say, no matter how ridiculous it sounds,” Spare announced as we closed on to our target.

I saw the clear a few steps away, inexplicably hoarding all the light. Following Spare’s story, I walked to its middle and sat cross-legged. I took my shirt off, briefly shivering due to the low temperature until the sun’s heat started taking effect. They had to see my La’er, to witness my ability. And they had to confirm I was a Drak’ga who had completed the carving.

Nothing happened; everything was quiet save for the wind caressing the grass and some birds in the distance. I could feel my pulse accelerating; I was dying to meet with my kin, making it harder to remain there every passing second.

“Remember, temperance and patience, they are testing you.” Spare’s voice, even though everything it said I already knew, helped me calm my nerves.

I methodically exhaled and inhaled a few times, mentally tracking the air inside of me. I closed my eyes and transcended into a meditative state. If I have to wait, I can at least make it worthwhile. I let my mind examine my recent memories, particularly the bizarre experience I felt when trying to learn the Drak’gath formation.

As always, it began with Ink taking control over my body. I felt the same tingling sensation, evolving into something invading my mind. The weird thing is, I would typically feel like seeing my body from outside, but that time it was like I actually were somewhere else. It was bright, white, too pure to be natural. And then there was that voice. It could have been Spare calling my name from my body’s side, but it’s tone was too neutral and devoid of emotion to be that of someone who was dying.

I tried going over everything one more time, looking for anything I might have overlooked, but I found nothing. By the third time I was revisiting the event, some crunching noises brought me back to the world. “Keep calm, open your eyes slowly.”

Repressing a sigh of exasperation, I opened my eyes without moving a single inch, immediately noticing a man walking towards me from the boundaries of the opening. His clothes were plain and naturally bent with the environment. He held a bow in his right hand, and I could see a sword hanging from his belt on the other side.

“Fuck,” Spare cursed. I slightly grinned, making sure to hide it, when I thought that Spare had probably always held himself from swearing out loud. “That’s bad news.” He announced with hints of worry in his voice.

I studied the man, and although I did see his weapons, I didn’t find his posture or appearance particularly threatening. Why so? I asked Spare, still examining him for whatever he had found.

“He is hiding his tattoos; he doesn’t trust you at all,” he explained. “Drak’ga would only hide his body to strangers or…” he hesitated, but decided I had to know, “when choosing to disrespect someone. If it’s if the lat-”

“Who goes there!” The angry shout traveled through the plain and interrupted our conversation, leaving no doubt that I wasn’t welcomed.

“Stand!” Spare’s words were filled with urgency, making me hastily comply. “Bow in a 45 degrees angle; your right index must touch your shoulder during and after the process.” Like a puppet, I pulled my strings and rigidly adopted the position. It must have been obvious I had never done it before; if I had felt it in my tensed muscles, I’m sure an outsider must have clearly seen it. “May the Ink flow,” Spare said, clearly intending for me to say so too.

“May the Ink flow.” I repeated, raising my voice for the stranger to hear, with my head still lowered. I couldn’t help but notice those were the exact same words in a poem inside The way of the Ink. I would have asked Spare, but I knew it was not the moment for it.

There was silence; the expected answer didn’t arrive. I maintained my bow until I heard the steps stopping in front of me, deciding it had been enough time already. As my head went back to its position, I could better appreciate the quality of that man’s clothes and weapons. It was apparent they were handmade and submitted to multiple adventures if one had to judge by its worn down colors and the occasional hole. They were the attire of a scout, baggy enough to facilitate fast movements, but not so much that it would snag in the undergrowth.

It finally rose, ending the movement barely a palm off his face. We were so close that I could smell his breath, which wasn’t pretty, by the way. I was examining the wrinkles on his face, judging he couldn’t be older than thirty-something eyes, when I heard Spare cursing again, “fuck!”, more effusively than the last time, I must add.

What is it? I asked while I patiently waited for the man to say something. His lips were closed in a thin line, and they didn’t do the slightest sign of wanting to move.

“Out of everyone we had to bump into, it had to be Yaraq.” He said as if I had to understand what it meant to have met him. I might have been able to go over his memories if the situation had been any different, but I was too tense to focus on it. He seemed to read my confusion and continued. “He’s one of the strongest voices of the continuists,” Spare added to my confusion. “A group that fights to restore the traditions of old.”

If my face didn’t go pale, it was quite a miracle. Basically, I had run into one of those that wouldn’t doubt chasing me out of here with a sword in hand. I had to play clever; I had to bend the truth until I was inside.

“Who. Are. You.” Yaraq insisted, imbuing his voice with an unspoken ultimatum. Convince me, or you are dead, it subliminally said.

“I’m Tarar, Spare’s pupil,” my voice sounded more confident than I was. In a certain way, I still was Spare’s student; I simply omitted some details regarding our relationship. Of course, I had a colossal symbol over my chest that said otherwise, which I prayed he hadn’t noticed. After all, it was hard to tell from afar, and I had been bowing until he was merely five fingers away from me.

“And,” he squinted one eye with evident doubt, “what is Spare’s pupil doing here?”

I quickly put my shirt on while I answered the question. “I seek help, Spare is...” I left the sentence unfinished, hoping Yaraq would mistakenly complete it by himself. He is in danger, he is a prisoner, he is ill. There were multiple endings, and I didn’t mind which of them he chose. Just in case, I made sure my face showed worry and a pinch of urgency.

He took a while to answer, his eye squinting so much that it almost completely closed. “I need you to show me proof,” he was still as unwelcoming as before, but I saw the light in the end.

Proof… What could I show him that proves I am Spare’s student? I had barely started thinking when Spare resolved the issue for me. “Show him my ring; you should still have the tattoo.”

Ring? Of course! I materialized the first object I ever carved from my elbow, that metal ring that I had drawn on paper until I knew every scratch on its surface by heart. My punch opened, and the ring shone with the sun. I would have never expected that the simple sight of the ring would make Yaraq’s eyes open wide and round. His head pulled back, and I could hear as he suddenly inhaled.

“Follow me.” He turned at the same time he said those words. It was like he believed me for the first time, that until then, I was a scoundrel trying to unearth some hidden treasure that didn’t belong to me. I exhaled, slowly releasing all the pent-up stress I had accumulated.

“Quick thinking there,” Spare said, impressed but not praising me in the least. “Now let’s see how you manage when they discover I’m dead and you’ve not only inherited my knowledge but also lied your way in.”

I froze for a second, reminding just in time that I was following Yaraq and that suddenly halting would be suspicious. I had gotten myself in a big mess, and yet it was the only way I saw.

We exited the opening, and I chased him all the way to a mountain, one that grew almost perpendicular to the ground. We stood there, quiet and immobile. I didn’t know what we were waiting for, and Spare seemed amused by it. I was beginning to think we would have to climb, sweating just from the thought. But no, all it took was a blink, and somehow the mountain disappeared.

Well, not the mountain as a whole, but rather patch big enough to fit five people side by side, taller than three times my height. My mind struggled to process what had happened; I knew it must have been Ink, but just how. How could someone draw a part of something, one that huge, and make it appear and disappear like it’s nothing? Far from dispirited, my blood boiled; there was still so much I had to learn, I wasn’t anywhere close to completing my education.

“Follow me.” He repeated as if those were the only words he would bother to direct me.

We entered the mountain and followed a man-made tunnel, dug up in the stone with extreme precision, forking and dividing several times along the way. It was a complex cave system, a labyrinth under that huge mass of terrain. Even after having lived in the sewers for years, which shared quite a few similarities, I lost track of all the turns and seemingly circles we did. If it wasn’t clear before, then it was; Yaraq didn’t trust me.

We spent somewhere near thirty minutes walking, but I had the feeling it wouldn’t have taken more than ten if we hadn’t made so many detours. Still, it was worth every second and every minute; I would have done it a thousand more times if I could see it again for the first time.

It was a hole in the ground, one that spanned several hundred meters. If I had to say how large it was, I bet it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say it could hold all the shacks on Lamar. Of course, it wasn’t empty; candles danced at the rhythm of a breeze that rose up to our position, illuminating a spectacle of buildings carved from the stone itself. Two-floor buildings cohabitated with tiny houses in a potpourri of architectural styles. Spherical roofs and waving facades made of stone combined with stained glass, projecting highlights and shadows on the hole’s grounds.

It was simply breathtaking, so much that it took me a minute to notice I had stopped, and several more seconds to close my opened mouth. I ran behind Yaraq, who was already descending through an infinite ladder on its side, circling the hole while growing narrower at every turn.

As much as I enjoyed walking down while enjoying the sights, seeing all those people busily walking from one place to another, I dreaded the time I would have to climb it up. Five minutes of non-stop walking brought me to the bottom, and fifteen more minutes were enough to reach what seemed an important building.

Unlike I had expected, we barely got any heads turning our way. Those that turned were, most likely, doing so out of pure shock; I was the only one wearing a shirt. It was certainly interesting seeing all those people topless, showing their chests and breasts as if it were the most natural thing in the universe. Ha! It was both a gift and a curse that I was so young, I would have certainly enjoyed a whole other kind of sights otherwise, maybe too much. Instead, my innocent mind enjoyed inspecting their tattoos.

A quick observation of the building and the flags waving outside suggested it was important, official even, and most likely our final destination. Confirming my doubts, Yaraq entered, with me in tow. We went through a corridor until we reached the last door. He energetically nocked.

“Come in!” A feminine and authoritative voice came from beyond the door, raised just enough so it would reach us. Certainly, whoever was behind was used to the situation.

We came in, and I copied Yaraq as he bowed and did the identical reverence Spare had described. It was short-lived, nothing like our meeting on the forest opening.

“Oh, you brought me a new face?” She lively said with a smile on her face. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I-”

“He bears Spare’s token.” I was about to answer, but I barely had said a syllable that Yaraq interrupted me.

“Is that so?” If cutting me short was rude, she didn’t say so, not with her voice nor with her face.

“Yes, it is,” I finally could say. “I am Spare’s student, Tarar.”

“He claims something has happened to Spare and has come for our aid.” Yet again, Yaraq didn’t let me explain. I was hoping to twist my way out of the lie, but I had been cornered.

“Where is he?” I swear I could see her eyes glittering, almost like she had seen through my act and already knew the answer.

“He…” I paused, unsure if saying he had died was accurate. Instead, I did something that would surely be understood; I pointed to my chest and then slowly raised my finger to my forehead. He is inside me, I said without speaking.

“WHAT!” Yaraq burst into a roar, probably offended I had lied to him, or maybe ashamed he hadn’t noticed it. “He can’t be here!” His finger pointed to me, his eyes red, injected with fury. I believe the only reason he didn’t try to kill me right there was her raised hand.

There was a brief moment of silence during which I didn’t even dare to move. I held my breath, feeling her eyes staring into my soul. I don’t know what was going inside her head, but at that moment, I thought she was deciding if I should be allowed to live.

“You brought him here,” she said, calmer than I would have expected. “Take him to the residence and confine him in a cell.” We were about to leave when she added, “and you, Tarar, wasn’t it?” I turned to face her again and nodded, feeling as my stomach revolved and a knot tied my throat. “You are not to leave that chamber until I give the word.” I nodded once again and dejectedly followed Yaraq.

If our interchanges until then had been quiet and tense, you could only imagine how the rest of the way went. I could feel in the air that just saying one word, even if it was something harmless, would get me killed.

My new chamber was better than I had imagined when I first heard it being called a cell. I was locked inside it, but it still was more than I had for the last year. At least it had a bed I could sleep on for the following days, and as I correctly guessed, it wouldn’t be just one or two.