Pigeons crowded the narrow corner where a trader stood, throwing crumbs of bread. His stand which held his goods was right behind him - a wall made of stones which rose to his knees. Inside the circle of wall crackled a fire. Various animals on sticks rested on the wall: rabbits, pheasants, quails, chickens, pigs, goats, lambs and more. He was turning them on a spit, admiring the golden color and scent that was drawing people from the crowd.

Occasionally he would yell, “Every kind of meat you ever dreamed of eating! Take just one bite! Your mouths will take them all! If you are adventurous taste the meat of the fox with special herbs that kill the bitterness! If you are a strong warrior take a piece of this tender matasart meat right here on the stick!”

He thought for a moment and then added, “If you like pigeon stew I will cook it up in no time.” He gave a significant wink to the pigeons in front of him.

A tall young warrior passing his stand nodded a subtle greeting.

“Hello master Subito,” the vendor said with excitement. “Would you like your usual matasart-lamb mix?”

“No, not right now, thank you.”

“In that case, I will prepare extra large portion for you next time,” the man went back to preparing his wares.

Subito moved fast along the familiar lanes of the market and greeted people as he passed close to them. Several lanes later, Subito walked in the clan house of the clan Lux the house where he was born and raised. There were children playing behind the doors. They noticed him and scattered around yelling, “The Young baronet is here! The Young baronet is here!”

He followed them with his eyes, smiling. With dust smeared all over their faces and tiny bare feet, like small daredevils, they invoked warm memories of the long gone days. Just a few years ago he was one of these children playing in the dust. He used to dream of heroic acts he would perform, and of the greatness he would achieve. No child's dreams are small or modest. We all dream about greatness when we are young. Children are always set to be first. Somewhere along the way, a real life opens its doors showing us second place, a third, and so on. At the end we settle with a notion; there is only one first place and somehow, we are not there. Members of the clan sat around the bone-fires scattered across the spacious clan house. All of them rose to great Subito. Many of them even descended the ropes from their sleeping chambers attached to the ceiling. It took him quite some time to greet them all; over three hundred men, women and children.

Utrikat, male and female heads

Meanwhile, the Utrikat servants were setting the big table for a feast. They brought matasart meat, suind, and wild mushrooms fried with onion and cheeses. Their green bodies moved fast in the flickering lights of the burning fires. They bumped into each other and cursed in the Utrikat language, spreading their fan-like ears and baring their fangs. Their button sized black noses stood out in comical contrast to the huge ears similar to bat wings.

Subito looked at the ancient portrait which hanged above the doors. The colors faded by time and covered with layers of smoke from ages that have passed, gave a dirty gray note to the entire painting. It was a likeness of an ancestor of the clan Lux, who had lived during the time when the fog had descended. The man in the portrait was rather chubby, with a big nose and broad forehead. The rest of his face was hard to see except the long dark beard and hair lifted by the wind. He wielded a crooked scythe with a handle colored black and white. Tattered clothes, made of animal fur, maybe a wolf or could be a bear, provided him good protection from the snows in the Land of Moving Hills. According to legend, he and his five brothers were refugees from the old kingdom and were close relatives of the king. Whenever Subito's father told the story, he would make a pause showing the red boots on the ancestor’s feet, which was a sign of belonging to a dynasty. As a child Subito had dreamed to become strong and brave as the ancestor portrayed in the painting whose name was lost in past centuries. He wanted to save starving refugees from the fog and fight off hundreds of scavenging bandits. Fulfillment of this dream was not far away. He will soon visit his ancestor’s homeland, to retrace his steps, so to speak. His father, baron of Clan Lux, emerged from behind the big crates filled with salted matasart meat.

He said, “Greetings my son, what brings you home?” his big hands opened for a hug. Under his long white beard and hair you could see an even bigger smile. He had the same big nose and strong jawline like Subito. Stooped, but still strong, he was in his fifty-third year.

Subito fell into his arms, and said “Don’t worry, I haven’t deserted and put a shame on our name. I am still in the guard.”

“It is good to know… you are still capable to jest with your old father. Please sit! Sit and eat.” The meat of young matasart stuck to their fingers and tongues, making the taste last longer. Father poured suind into his drinking horn.

“Why have you come so suddenly?” His father queried.

“The Land of Moving Hills needs sword wielders, and I know how to wield a sword.”

Subito's father was pale and silent for a few moments. “We must part. Even before we die our body is divided: two eyes, two legs, two arms. Such are the consequences of not being the Singularity. I wish I was younger… I would come with you.” He sighed, but a few moments later he smiled, chasing away the worried expression. “Do not listen to the ramblings of an old man, you know how to protect yourself. Subito, you are a better warrior, than I ever was. You only ever needed protection from yourself. Alas, I am old and I have clan duties. I have just collected taxes in suind from our Utrikat villages. It is exquisite there. Honey trees are ripe with flowers. They are harvesting them and everywhere are stoves for brewing suind. I was drunk all the time. You should come with me when you come back… It was a beautiful visit, but tiresome. And next week I will go again, to collect taxes, in the form of their babies, for our servants. Matasarts will come out soon, and the clan will need to hunt.” He sighed. “I can’t come with you on your journey, but I will ask your friends Schnew and Alma to take my place at your side. They have been replacing me many times… Many of the youth will volunteer to go with you. Take care, dear Subito. Good Travels.”

“Every sword is welcome. Are Schnew and Alma here?”

“They are and they ask for you every day. If I had answered every time they asked I would have spent all my words by now and would be mute.” He thought for a short time and added, “I remembered an old riddle: ‘When you look back, it looks as the shortest thing in the world, but look in front of you and it looks endless.’ What is the answer?”

“Time,” offered Subito.

“Remember my words, take your time. Sometimes it is best to leave time to solve problems. Those who run toward the enemy sometimes die falling on their own sword. Walk this world Subito, don’t run.”

“What are life and world, but paths leading to its own end and disappearance? I will walk it slowly.”

“Subito, my only son. I will leave you to your meal and go to the warriors’ assembly. We have to debate about sending volunteers to the war.”

Subito nodded. He tried to put more meat into his already overfilled stomach when he recognized the sound of steps behind him. Young baronet jumped up and hugged them. Then he turned around, still hugging them, and sat them down on the chairs. He filled their glasses with suind.

“Alma you can take suind and I will use my spirit mushrooms. I don’t care for that Utrikat pastime! Ulan warriors always used spirits, before the battle, to ease fears, give courage, and strength. Every day is a battle for us who are outside of destiny’s favor.” It was Schnew, still the same as he was in his childhood. He had the same rusty voice and moving dark eyes, which sat above a pointy nose and black mustache, except for a few grays here and there.

Schnew

He munched on the spirit mushrooms. His eyes followed the languid movement of the vapors as they rose from the hot suind and dissolved into the darkness of the clan house ceiling. The human eye has a flaw. It always tries to find a resemblance to well-known objects in abstract lines. This flaw, joint with the effects of spirit mushrooms to distort reality, caused him to see a naked dancing girl in the vapors. He smiled.

Subito started, “Are you two coming with me?”

“Next time, don’t interrupt me when I am watching the steam.” He could see the surprise in their eyes, but he learned to withhold such gazes a long time ago. “I will join you. I know how to protect," he lowered his eyes, "and how to take, a life. Who would be more useful than me?" He turned back to Alma smiling and asked, "But do we have to take this demon?” Schnew said, alluding to an Ulan legend about the origins of Utrikats. According to said legend they were offspring of demons which got banned from their kingdom for offending the demon king.

He sensed Alma’s anger building up in the way she scratched at her skin. If Subito knew none better, he would think she had a rash. It was normal for female Utrikats to have red dots appear on their green skin when they reach sexual maturity. A small horn on the top of her head was also normal. At least she didn't have huge ears like the males of her species, or any ears worth mentioning.

She had to answer, “Can you see through the fog like I can? What is the point of your pale skin except to shine in the light and attract crows? Everyone knows we were once like you! Then the fog has come and our goddess of the snakes Tyrana descended from the skies to protect us. She blessed us with her poisoned blood. We look like she does, like a goddess, and you are like an animal.”

Schnew laughed and said, “I will tell you a story.”

Alma rolled her yellow eyes and whispered to herself, “Not the same story again.” Then she said to Schnew with a sarcastic tone, “We are familiar with your story. We were forced to listen it many times, and it always sounded like a bunch of excuses. A famous musician saw your obvious talent and took you for an apprentice. You killed him during your trip from clan to clan to offer your music for money and food. His clan members followed the Ulan barbarian custom and gathered in assembly to pick three warriors with a mission to find and kill you. You, in self-defense, had to kill all three of them to be relieved of guilt. When you did, you had a trial. Your sentence was to serve the Lux clan for ten years because of robberies you committed while you were in the woods with outlaws. When your sentence was over, you had nowhere to go. The old baron accepted you as a member of the Lux clan. This must be the thousandth time you tried to tell that story.”

“I can see through the invisible fog. The people call it the fog of life. I am like a weed. Throw me on the rock, and I will find a place to anchor my roots. I have never told you the whole story as you were too young. I didn't want to spoil your innocence as mine got spoiled long ago. That musician I killed was after the money my talents could get him. He promised my father money to help him send messages to his friends the Utrikat pirates. Then he sent clan guards to capture my father so he could keep the money and get me. He taught me about real life and I paid for the lessons with steel. I have abandoned my life and my birth name to take this one, but I have always kept my honor. One of those lessons has been never to trust anything that has to do with Utrikats.”

“You are wise in the ways of life, but lack education. When you killed first time you were too young to learn about your nation’s history. When Ulans followed matasarts to this island our people accepted them as friends. Utrikats hunted matasarts since they grazed on our land. Ulans considered our hunting to be thievery. They said that land can’t belong to anyone. And at the end they enslaved us.”

Schnew smirked, “I know everything there is to know about the slavery. No one becomes a slave unless he chooses to become one. I had opportunity to stay in the woods and die as a free man, but I have chosen to live in servitude when I surrendered.”

“Don’t you see he enjoys your anger? He is joking with you.” Subito tried to stop her, but nothing would stop her now.

“Both of us are right in our own way. Only, we have not chosen the same path of the mind. The mind is directed which path to take from early childhood. The mind, unlike the man will seldom leave his path. He would rather choose not to see the facts which prove he is on the wrong path. We have fought seven wars, after which, Ulans aligned with the Uhgr tribe to defeat the other Utrikats, including my own, Na tribe. Uhgrs grew stronger, and they turned against you. After the Battle of Last Stand, in which your king Sabator died with many other brave warriors, Uhgrs took possession of the whole island, except for a small area of Wolf Pass. There, Sabator's son created a new religion, brought liberty to Ulans and conquered the island. Utrikat groups fled to the sea. They attacked coastal settlements, so you call them the pirates, Subito even took part in a few skirmishes against them. The son of Sabator has written his thoughts on the lamellar armor he made of skull tops belonging once to his enemies. Every Ulan warrior followed his lead, carrying similar armors made of iron. Temple priesthood transcribed the writings inscribed on his armor into a book you now call the Book of Voice. Maybe you have heard of him. His name was Voice from the Crowd.”

“There is a moral to this story, isn’t there?” Schnew still chuckled.

“Yes, three of them. One, you never know who your real allies are and what could happen tomorrow. Two, every big thing was once a small one. Three, small things become big ones if you give them enough time. Also, all big things will be small again. Every help is welcome, even if it comes from a demon.”

The old baron’s arrival interrupted Alma’s little triumph. “The Clan has decided. We cannot let all volunteers go, just the ones who are not in the clan guard or are deemed necessary for a hunt. Scores of boys and girls are already preparing to come with you.”

“That is a significant number.” Subito's face shone with hope.

“You'll still must transport your unit. Bolki tribe territory is far from here.”

“Someone will go there in the clan house,” Subito conspired. “We will start on foot and keep our eyes on the skies. When we spot the clan house we will signal them with fire.”

“Let’s go outside and wait until everyone has gathered.” He turned back to the pair to say, “I forgot, you two can go to storage and ask them to give you armor, swords, dogs and scythes. There is a bunch already arming in there.”

“I would prefer the Utrikat weapons, which hang on the walls.” Alma was still under the influence of argument with Schnew. He laughed so hard he had to hold his stomach. It made Alma frown again while she took the spiked stone mace of the wall.

Subito went out withholding laughter, his old dog Scar was already waiting for him there. The animal got its name after his fight with a pack of wolves, which earned him a deep scar under the left eye. He came to Subito and licked his forehead. Subito patted a dog noticing a few gray hairs interspersed within his black fur. Subito hadn't been riding him as much lately. Scar stooped, and he mounted.

A group of warriors in full equipment and mounted on other dogs were already there. Nervous dogs barked at each other. Riders fed them pieces of meat and bread. The older women cried, mothers, whose children were leaving. Their husbands hugged them, saying, “Stop it! Those are the Ulan warriors, not your babies! You have done your job. Don’t get in the way. They need no mother now, only a lover.”

One boy straightened his mother and said, “Don’t cry, I’m not dead yet. It’s a bad omen.”

Utrikats were packing food rations in baskets mounted on dogs. Schnew came out clad in Ulan equipment, and Alma followed him gleaming with pride. Slung across her chest was a leather bag full of clay pots. Once thrown, they will release a cloud of smoke an effective way to break up large groups of enemies and to hide the movement of allies. The Old baron was blessing the unit, tapping them on the shoulders and giving advice to every warrior. With his final words, the troop was already departing. Somebody started a song known only as “Sorrow”. It is about the Battle of Last Stand. Everyone joined in the sullen chorus. They were going into the unknown, and the song was giving something familiar to hold on to, so they sang.

I saw raiders when I was a child

They rode in the fog before them spread

I asked my mother, who they are

She said they are heroes soon to be dead

O, how they rode toward that mist

Tremendous sorrow pressed my mind

Pulling her skirt, sad I cried

Mother, they’re gone and have left me behind

She said, my son, you’re just a child

Don’t run to death she’s coming for you

Soon you will ride down the same road

Weapons are changing, but wars never do

During the nights swallowed by fog

I can hear voices calling for me

Alas too late, I was born

To get into battle I’ll never see

Soon enough, I will go this way

Fallen heroes are waiting for me

Under the flag of honor and glory

Together with them I will be.

Schnew pulled a flute out of his boot, where he always carried it, next to his knife. The melody was proud and sad. Cousins and clansmen marched in line next to each other. A few moments later they had lost sight of the clan house, not to be seen in a long, long time. Several of them would never lay their eyes on it again.

***

Melessar was in the market place waiting for the witch stone reader as she was the best reader in Ulan. He felt uneasiness in his spirit, like unrest was in the air. As hunting season was drawing near the whole city was preparing for departure from the Gathering. It was his last chance to meet her again while she was still here. After the clan houses left, it would be very difficult to find her, since she moved from clan to clan to make her living telling the fortunes. He, being a priest, also moved around to preach from the Book of Voice. It was a duty of priests at least those priests who are not assigned to the Fetun towers. He met her once. She was a dirty old woman clad in rags of her former clothes; not a single tooth remained in her jaws. Over her shoulder was an old rusty sword. She used to be a warrior in her youth, and a good one judging by the gilt on her sword’s handle. Old woman like her couldn’t be of any use to her clan so she left. She was too proud to be a burden. Those were the reasons behind her decision to put witch stone reading knowledge into good use. Her mother passed the knowledge to her, but she never had time to use it. She will not die in her bed. Death will find her on her feet, ready for final battle. She will leave this world like a true Ulan warrior.

A skinny girl, clad only in huge wolf’s skin and not over twelve years old, approached him. The wolf’s front and hind legs were removed, so she could put her legs and arms through the holes. Her face was peeking through the wolf’s open jaws. Melessar smiled. She was from Bolki tribe. They used to dress children in this silly way.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“I am waiting and pondering.”

She rubbed her big eyes, and said, “You shouldn't ponder too much. My grandma says overthinking is worse than not thinking at all. While not thinking can’t lead you anywhere, over-thinking often takes you along long way. You will find yourself further from the solution than at the beginning.”

“Your grandmother is smart.”

“She is smart. She taught me how to read which stones.” The girl smeared dust with tip of her bare toe.

“You…?”

“Yes and you are the priest who is visiting all the readers, right?”

“Yes. I think you should take me to your grandmother.”

“No, she has lost her eyesight. She can’t help you now, but I can.”

“Ok. I will give you a chance.” The mistrust in his voice was obvious. At the same time he was sad for the old lady. She won’t get her chance to leave the way she wished.

She broke off a few branches of the nearest tree.

“What are you doing?”

“I am making which stones.”

“You can’t make stone out of wood, silly girl.”

“It is not important of what the stones are made of, but what they have to say. You are stupid for a priest.”

“Maybe I should pick a branch of my own and teach you some manners.” Still, he didn't try to stand up, instead he watched with attention as the girl broke every branch into pieces, each about an inch long. Then she took out a small curvy knife and peeled bark off of part of them while leaving others unpeeled.

“I understand what you are doing now. Ones with bark are the black ‘stones’ and ones without are white ‘stones’.”

“Yes. At this point, I recite a prayer over the stones to make sure they will work. Since you are the priest, you can do it.”

“Let’s see how well you know your prayers.”

“Magic is stronger if a priest does it.”

Melessar smiled and opened the Book of Voice.

“Path of thorns… All human roads lead to the same goal – death. Those who walk in the opposite direction have to walk over difficult terrain. Roads they walk are grown in thorns since they are rarely traveled. Such roads are painful. Travelers may not wear any clothes or shoes. The Singularity is naked and barefooted like a newborn. They have to be like Singularity since only Singularity could walk such roads. Thorns will dig into the skin of naked traveler. They are anyone who is not the Singularity. Thorns are multitude. Multitude of thorns will attach to the traveler, to pull him back. It will do anything to hamper his progression. Thorns hate the Singularity. They are afraid of the traveler. If he becomes the Singularity, they cannot exist. Traveler with strong devotion will endure. He will carry away thorns stabbed into his skin. They will become part of him. Like snowball rolling down the hill he will create avalanche. Multitude hates Singularity, but Singularity loves multitude. The Singularity knows they are part of him; to hate them would be the same as hating yourself. If thorns are afraid of the traveler, traveler will give them courage. Only covered in thorns traveler can reach his destination. Thorns will be his armor and his boots. The Singularity will be reborn from traveler’s pain, same as the pleasure of motherhood is paid for with pain. The rose grows amongst the thorns.”

He closed his book and gave her a look full of expectations.

She shook the stones in her hands, spilling them on the ground. After she observed them for quite some time, the girl said, “There is a lot here, things which I can’t understand but I see. Today is a day you will see the path toward one of your answers. You are a man of many questions and many answers you will find. Or they will find you, I can’t tell. You won’t like every one of them. One of your questions is for your sword brother. He is the only one who can answer it.”

“You are good. You know I have a sword brother.” He smiled.

“I don’t know, but the stones do… There is a girl waiting for you, but right now she is walking away from you. Follow her if you want to find her love. Not this one here with fire, but the other one - a girl.”

She is good, she knows about Red! He thought as the hairs rose on his hands. Then he shook his head thinking, “It’s just a coincidence.” He asked, “So I will have a wife to cook for me, and the other one to love me?”

“Yes there it is: fire next to this girl and black and white next to each other are making 'a' next to this other girl. She is the right one for you.”

“What have you said?”

“A girl, that means she is the right one.”

“No, about black and white, what have you said about black and white?”

“Everyone knows that black first and the white second make ‘a’.”

He took a fistful of btari petals out of his coin bag and spilled it in her hands. As he walked away, she stood there with her mouths open, her outstretched hands filled with btari petals and stiff. Like she was afraid if she moved all money would disappear. Never in her life had she seen that much money. She came here following an unbelievable story of a crazy priest who gives petals of btari to readers who tell him the fortune. What she found was even crazier; one who gives hands full of money.