Vedek

The Hambrientorío was a dirty blue snake of running water about thirty-three meters across. Foliage gathered in knots at the river’s clay padded shores. Most notable were the aloe plants with leaves that stretched to Vedek’s collarbone with threatening hooks lining their edges. The descent into the gorge carved by the Hambrientorío had been tricky with the horses, which were used to the gentler slopes of their home. Once they reached the bottom, the group was inclined to relax by the river’s edge for a moment and relish the first drinkable source of water they’d had in a week that was neither from a cactus, nor had to be paid for.

Azeroth was already stripping himself to bathe in the river until Odile called out that it would be dangerous to do so. The depth of the Hambrientorío declined sharply, and its limit was unknown. In prior eras, the loss of swimmers in the river was attributed to a Primordial Coatl living in the depths. It was from this snake that the river derived its name. In times of drought, coatlmade would even throw sacrifices to the river, believing Hambrientorío would reward them with moist soil.

“What would they sacrifice?” Frost asked. He now watched the river like one who realized a bloody weapon was in the room.

“Not their own, I can promise that.” Azeroth answered darkly.

It was Onakie’s plan to follow the river until they reached Diosdomestos, a port town that was connected by Serpent Road directly to Spiral City. It was the only town she felt safe stopping in because of its isolation from the northern part of the confederacy. Saddling the horses once more they ventured along the river, following the current.

Further downstream the walls of the gorge grew tighter to the river’s shore. No natural path could be found, but an ancient path had been carved that was positioned two meters above the white rapids below. They had to walk single file, as there was no railing, and the spray of the rapids made the stone damp. Vedek could imagine a coatl in the depths hungrily watching them, hoping for a misstep.

When Vedek looked away from the river he was startled to see a man a little further up the path. It would not have been such an unusual sight except for the fact that the man was not on the path at all. He sat in a stone throne that jutted out of the ground directly over the river. The throne itself was strange because it looked a part of the canyon wall, but couldn’t have possibly been carved. Dwarves could manipulate stone to stretch beyond its natural bounds, but this man was no dwarf. He was about the same broadness as a dwarf, but taller, perhaps as tall as Vedek. His skin was black, with a glassy shine, reminding Vedek of the obsidian daggers sold by the tecuani. Reflected on his body was the movements of the river below, which he watched with calculated intrigue. He had facial hair, if it could be called that, made from small stalactites growing out of his chin. His clothes were all done in vibrant purples, from his thin vest, to the baggy sirwal covering his legs. The clothes looked to be made of materials they shouldn’t, but Vedek could not begin to guess what. The cloth glittered like stained glass.

There was no way to avoid passing this strange man. Azeroth made a broad gesture for “I don’t know either.” Onakie carefully drew her sword for safety. Only Frost showed any recognition for the man, though he didn’t seem sure of it himself.

Vedek heard the man speak as they drew near. It was not the Common tongue he spoke. His language was like waves crashing against high rocks. Vedek would not have recognized it as language at all had it not been for deliberately repeated sounds. The stranger rested his head on his knuckles while not looking away from the river, smiling slyly all the while.

Vedek looked back to Onakie. They had no guarantee of whether this person was a threat and a fight on this narrow path would be disastrous.

“Greetings, stranger.” Vedek cautiously called out.

“Come closer, then greet me.” The obsidian man responded in Common, still not looking away from the river. “There’s no danger. None at all. I couldn’t harm you if I wanted. If you come closer, then we can talk without shouting.”

He emphasized that last bit by bellowing so loud it shook Vedek’s ears.

Vedek dismounted, holding up a hand that the other’s stay back. Ignoring him, Frost dismounted his own horse and pushed ahead to follow.

The obsidian man reached one of his thick arms back, pressing a single finger to the canyon path. “One of the Muspellr sired, two from the arcane realm, one made by a Divine, and --oh!-- one of the young cousins.”

He finally turned his head to Vedek and Frost. His eyes were balls of crystallized blue water and the interior of his mouth had a similar coloring. He smiled at Frost. “An amarok. One of the preferred offshoots.”

“You speak like we are related.” Frost skeptically tilted his head.

“Most things are related if you distill the blood enough, but you and I are closer in make.” The man grinned unsettlingly before looking back to the river. “We are grandchildren to the First Life. Your makers were the Spirits. Mine were the Elder Elements.”

“The Elders?” Frost tilted his head the other way now, “but they are locked in the Deepest Sea. So you are...a badogiak?”

The man snorted at the name. “Yes, I suppose. That is what your people call me, though the name known by most is Marid.”

Vedek gasped, taking a step back from the stranger. He was in the presence of an old and powerful being. The Primals were the enemies of the first and last Morning Wars. Expys of the First Life that could not create, only replicate and divide. In the Last Morning War, a small population of Elementals wished to side with the Divines rather than be imprisoned in the depths of Abzu, what Frost had called the Deepest Sea. Those rebels came to be known as the Marids.

The obsidian man threw back his head and laughed. “I must admit your shock gives me pleasure. It's good to know it only takes one elemental to whelm the hearts of mortals.”

He snapped his fingers, which sounded like the striking of flint. His throne ascended and rotated so that he could properly face them. The orange canyon walls manipulated like clay to accommodate his new design.

The marid’s eyes and mouth changed from blue to molten orange. “I can feel your heartbeat through the ground. Terrified that I could strike you down without exertion? I am Janni-Thera, the Living Seaborne Eruption. Your fears are well, well founded. I could kill that infant with ease.”

Onakie stormed forward, eyes and nostrils flaring. “You wouldn’t dare…”

Behind her, Odile uttered a quiet “I’m not an infant.”

Janni gazed deep into Onakie’s eyes. The minotauress was prepared for a fight for her life, but Janni was only amused. Vedek darted his eyes between the two. None could have predicted this is what they would have encountered when the day began.

“You can’t harm any of us. It is forbidden.” Frost was the only one that was calm. He put himself in front of Janni, staring down the marid with conviction.

Janni turned his head slowly to the wecher. After a second’s silence he burst into more laughter, deafening them like thunder. “You are correct! The younger cousins know more than the inheritors of Domhanda. Those that betrayed the Elders can’t harm any being of Divine creation when we jaunt from the Realm of Metals. So it is sworn by the mark we bear.”

He pulled aside the left side of his vest to display an emblem carved into his obsidian flesh. An abstract hook surrounded by divine runes. “The Brand of Pacifism. I cannot directly harm any being under the Divines’ protection.”

Vedek breathed a sigh of relief. He supposed he did know about the brand that all Marids bore, but in the moment he had forgotten it.

“Now that the situation is diffused, I request a favor.” Janni rotated his throne so that he could look upon the river once more.

“Why should we aid you when you have threatened us?” Onakie growled.

“That was harmless fun.” Janni sneered at the water. “Harmless being the supreme key word of the situation. I cannot harm, but I can help, and help I will if help is given. Must I speak in plainer words?”

Onakie was firm against aiding the marid, but Frost stepped forward. “What help do you need?”

Janni smiled. His glowing eyes had faded back to blue. “There is a delicacy in this river, freshwater tricho crabs. Oh yes, we Elementals eat, but we do it for pleasure alone. And these crabs are a pleasure to consume, but alas…”

He ran his finger along the Brand of Pacifism.

“You can’t kill them on your own. You need a mortal to do it.” Odile had drawn close enough to involve herself in the conversation.

Onakie was shocked by Odile’s presence and attempted to block her path to the marid, but the young queen forced her way through.

“If I do this, could you bring back my father?”

“Impossible.” Janni answered bluntly. “Life is not my domain. I could make a facsimile of your father. Craft him right here from the river clay, but it would always be just river clay pretending to be your father.”

Odile cast her eyes down. She retreated behind Onakie.

“Will you give me strength?” Frost asked before any others. He sounded hopeful, optimistic even.

Janni massaged his chin, subtly reshaping the hairs there. “Strength. That’s one of those words that means many things. Strong heart, strong body, strong will, which is it?”

“All of that. I desire the strength of being the best I can be.” Frost gestured broadly.

Vedek grabbed Frost’s arm. “Are you sure about this? Can you...trust him?”

Vedek had been running through his own mental list of things he could gain from a marid, but he didn’t have the confidence to voice them. Marids were mercurial though. Not as antagonistic as Infernals, or obtuse as Archfaer, but still not to be trusted to tell the whole truth. Their granted wishes always came with a catch. Even if he hadn’t known this, Vedek surmised he still wouldn’t trust any boon given by Janni.

Frost pulled his arm free. He looked to Vedek with conviction. “One day I will be strong of my own accord. That’s a fact. I see nothing wrong with having this marid close that gap for me early. I can do more if I find my strength now rather than later.”

Janni had been examining Frost like he was an elaborate puppet. “The strongest you’ll ever be? Mortal exceptionalism isn’t my strong suit. I can make a guess. Oh I can guess. Especially after all the mortals I’ve known. Yes. I’ll honor your desire if you honor mine.”

Frost held both his arms directly in front of him. Understanding the gesture, Janni stood from his throne, his knees creaking like stone rubbing against stone. He was taller than Vedek had assumed, only matched in height by Onakie. He extended his own arms. Both parties gripped the forearms of the other. If this was a gesture of agreement, Vedek didn’t recognize it.

Janni returned to his throne. Holding up a single finger, he pulled a bubble of water from the river. Trapped in the river was a single clay-stained crab the size of a brick. The bubble hovered over the water briefly before moving directly to Frost.

“Just the one?” Frost asked, cautiously reaching for the crab in the bubble.

Janni cracked his smile wider. “I’m not feeling gluttonous today. Small effort for strength, eh?”

Frost pulled the crab free, which writhed its thin legs and thick claws. If the river was as deep as Onakie claimed, it might be possible that this crab had never conceived of being above the water’s surface. Holding the thick crustacean aloft, Frost looked along the ground.

“I don’t have any way of breaking the shell. Is there a rock or weapon I can use?”

“You won’t use my khanda.” Onakie said firmly, hiding the sword from his eyes.

In spite of his trepidation, Vedek found himself looking around for a loose rock, but the path was clean. For the first time he noticed Azeroth was still at the end of their procession. He waited idly on his horse, watching the marid with intense skepticism.

“You don’t need a rock.” Janni lolled his head back onto his fist. “It can’t breath air. Just…hold it there.”

“But that’s…” Frost scowled at the crab, still struggling to break free of his grasp.

Janni arched his brows. “If anything this is easier. A...smaller effort for strength.”

Frost furrowed his brow. His body locked up. He watched the crab desperately pick at his hands.

No one moved or spoke. All of them watched Frost. Watched the crab’s movements become weaker as it drowned on air. When the crab was finally still Janni left his throne to take it. It took some effort, for Frost was in a daze and his fingers wouldn’t relent to releasing the crab. Janni regarded the crustacean like a rare prize. He dipped one of the legs into his mouth, severing it with a single bite. He chewed with his mouth open, letting all see his flat teeth grind the shell and meat to powder.

“Exactly as good as it was five centuries ago.” Janni quipped. He tucked the dead crab away before turning to Frost. Frost relaxed his arms, watching Janni in anticipation of his coming reward.

“How best to do it?” Janni cupped his chin.

Without warning, he thrust his palm against Frost. The space under his hand glowed red. Vedek could smell cloth and fur singeing. Frost’s eyes were wide with panic, but he did not back away nor wince in pain. Onakie put her arm across Odile to shield her from any potential foul magic. Azeroth watched the ritual with distaste. When the marid was nearly complete, he used his free hand on the back of Frost’s head to force him close. Vedek saw Janni’s mouth move, whispering into Frost’s ear, but what he said was inaudible, even to an Elden Fae.

“There you have it.” The marid pushed Frost away from him. “Strength! Or at least your understanding of it.”

Frost touched his chest. Where Janni’s hand had been there was an oval scorch mark on his clothes exposing his chest. Embedded on his left breast was a stone diamond two centimeters long. Frost was breathing heavily. His eyes continued widening as whatever power he had been granted seeded his body. He looked vibrant, older, and possessed an aura that made Vedek’s hairs stand on end. There was no need for demonstration to know that Frost’s wish had been granted.

“What will you do now?” Vedek asked Janni.

“Leave. I have what I want, why linger in this realm of Divines? I risk crushing an insect and being ripped into Abzu on a cruel hook. I know I am above any of you, but spare pity for us Marids. The Divines and their students never let a grudge or misstep be forgotten. We betrayed our kin, but the reminder of what we are will hang over us long after you, your bloodline, and even your nations turn to fertilizer for whatever comes after.”

He held the crab in front of him, smiling bittersweet at it. “Just once, I’d like to do my own fishing.”

His throne tilted forwards. The back became a short stone plank for him to walk along. The dead crab held firmly in hand, Janni-Thera crossed the plank then dropped into the river below. No trace of him could be seen below the surface. In time, the throne turned to loose rubble and collapsed.

“That was weird.” Azeroth called out in a dry tone.

They didn’t want to linger at the site. The horses were restless being on such a thin path, and the marid had unnerved them. They did not speak again until they were on natural shore. As they remounted their horses Frost kept his hand firm over his chest, tracing his finger over the scorch mark.

Azeroth directed his horse to pass close by Frost, allowing him to flick the wecher in the back of the head. Frost gasped, clutching his chest tighter and searching for the attacker. When he realized it was Azeroth, he became still.

“You’re not different, are you?” Azeroth asked.

Energy returned to Frost’s face. “No. Actually, yes, but no as well. I’m not different, but my body feels like I could have the horse ride me! Azeroth, we must do the push-ups again.”

“How about we save that for when we have a guarantee of soft beds after?” Azeroth replied. Seeing Frost return to his regular eagerness for testing himself brought some comfort to Vedek. After seeing what his brother became, Vedek was not quick to trust those that came from beyond Domhanda.

Frost nodded zealously, grinning from ear to ear at Azeroth. He realized he was still holding his chest and, with a trace of caution, dropped his hand to his side. He mounted his horse quickly to end the delay he had caused. Odile had taken her place on Azeroth’s horse. She couldn’t take her attention from his burn mark either.

“You spoke to the marid so confidently. Have you negotiated with them before?”

“Not me, but there are many stories. He was correct in that we are related by makers. Elementals are drawn to Wechers of all breeds, and we are drawn to them. Badogiak --sorry, that is our word for them-- appear in our folklore often. Sometimes they manipulate, other times they are generous without strings, but they always refer to us as cousins. My great-grandmother made a pact with one to give her the power to redirect cyclones from farmland.”

“I thought Amaroks didn’t plant crops.” Vedek interjected.

“We don’t. It was to protect human farms in southern Anchorome. That was the price requested by the noble that owned the lands. In exchange she would let the tribe settle amongst the humans. She, the noble, thought it an impossible task, but my ancestor found a way. Her name was Kako Wildoath.”

Frost was quiet again, drawing into himself. He touched his chest again. Not the possessive way he had prior, but with a tenderness. “That is why I made a similar deal. I need to be stronger. I must be stronger. There is still so much growth I must achieve before I return to my kin. I won’t be satisfied if I’m anything less than a living legend by the time I’m old and grey. Killing a crab is a small effort to achieve that.”

“Living legend or a cautionary tale...” Onakie mused. Only Odile and Vedek heard. When she saw them looking back at her she shook her head dismissing the statement, unwilling to say anything more on the matter.