Eli and Dara stopped early enough to take their time setting up camp near the clearing as it was too good of a location for them to pass up. There was a particularly nice spot away from the trail, where a natural break in the land hid them from the path, yet a few trees nearby provided a bit of shade from the late afternoon light.

He glanced north, the escarpment looming large with the familiar dark green trees along the crest with more spilling down the side of the slope until they gave way to brighter greens and browns. The switchback trail they’d traveled had been a bit sketchy in places on the way down, especially where it turned sharply. It was strange, but they hadn’t seen anyone on the path in days, not since the ambush. He had expected to find more people around, yet the land seemed empty.

The clearing turned out to be an even better campsite than they could have hoped after roughing it under some trees for the past couple of nights. There was a running creek on the far side, and near the water were many little fruits and berries. One looked a lot like a blackberry but colored like it was on fire. Not just orange or red, but changing shades that looked like a frozen flame made him smile, reminded of how magical this place was with a fiery fruit to show for it.

Dara recognized the fruit as a vatra, a popular ingredient for potion makers. Dara had described a popular drink made from the fiery fruit called Vatra’s Flight that her people’s messengers used to increase their running speed. With her urging, they spent a bit of time collecting some and storing them in Eli’s bracelet. She’d gone on to describe some of the other potions she’d seen and the ones her father’s guards had on hand for emergencies.

After collecting the fruits and berries, they both wanted to clean up as they’d been on the move for days, and he was far too aware of his body’s odor. He heated some water in a big pot he’d pulled from his DS and pulled out a couple of small wooden bowls they could use to rinse, all items he’d taken from the cultists’ campsite. Unfortunately, he didn’t find any soap, but Dara stepped in to help with her woodcraft and collected a bunch of flowers with thin white petals that grew along the creek. The flowers had a large root bulb that she crushed with a flat rock and then rubbed into her hands with some of their warm water.

“This is bulbileaf,” she said, the fibrous pulp forming little white bubbles between her hands. “It’ll get us clean, but make sure you rinse all of it off your skin as it’ll create a rash if you leave it on for too long.” So saying, she rinsed off her hands again and started to undress.

He caught a flash of paler skin as her dress dropped to the ground, but he turned quickly to stare at the empty clearing with a few scraggly trees to break up the tall grass.

“Is there a problem?” Dara asked behind him, though he could swear she was laughing at his reaction.

“Um. I didn’t expect you to get naked. Just a cultural thing,” he said while trying to ignore his body’s response as images of her naked body flashed through his mind. “My people don’t really do communal bathing.”

Dara laughed, “Well, you’ll have to get used to it then, at least here in the north. But why don’t your people do it? Are they ashamed of their bodies? Do your people have no self-control where the sight of bare skin drives them crazy?”

He chuckled himself. “You know, come to think of it, there are other cultures in my world where men and women bathe together. It’s just new for me.”

“Well then, can you turn around, so I don’t think there’s something wrong with me? And don’t worry, the sight of naked skin won’t drive me into a lust-filled madness.”

He turned back around, realizing he was being a bit juvenile since it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen a naked woman or two over the years. Dara was scrubbing some of the bubbles into her long, dark hair with her fingers, slowly combing out any snags that had developed. The soap left a white residue all over her body, stark against her darker skin, with thin tan lines mostly around her neck, arms, and feet. She poured a bowl of warm water over her head to splash onto the ground, a growing puddle forming at her feet. He tried not to make it obvious as he kept his eyes from any lingering looks at her body, still uncomfortable but trying to go with it.

Just think of her as one of the guys. It’s just skin, dipshit.

Stripping off his clothes, he made a small pile along the sandy bank beside the water and focused on cleaning himself. He started with a few bowls of water dumped on his head. He wasn’t sure what the new threshold was for feeling temperatures, but apparently, probable snow melt exceeded it, and he gasped, thinking maybe the heated water would have been a more intelligent move.

Smiling with a devilish twinkle in her eye as if enjoying his antics, Dara handed him one of the crushed roots, which he worked vigorously between his hands. It wasn’t exactly magic, yet he still smiled at the tiny bubbles that emerged and then spread them over his body. He managed to lose himself in the process, enjoying the simple pleasure of getting clean again after days of sweat and grime.

A bit later, they sat around their campfire as their wet clothes hung drying nearby. Wearing some clothes Eli provided and atop the same tarp to protect them from the dirt and grass, they ate their dinner while the fading day’s light gave way to the approaching night. He idly chewed on a bit of trail mix, enjoying the sounds of nature as the chirping bugs and sleepy songbirds mixed with the growing nocturnal calls of other animals stirring from their homes. Dara sat on a folded blanket with another wrapped casually around her shoulders while chewing on some jerky and washing down the meat with water. Now that they were out of Eld Forest and the higher elevation, the weather had improved quite a bit, and Dara hadn’t made her blanket cocoon for tonight.

Their fire was going strong, and nearby was a small stack of local wood he had collected after his wash. He’d had to trek around the edge of the clearing where there were more trees, and he’d likely grabbed more than necessary, but any extra would just get stored away. Lugh’s “junk drawer” wood burned quickly and hot, but it was a limited resource, so he planned on only using it when necessary.

As they ate, Dara explained some of the fundamentals of Lurra after he had peppered her with a bunch of questions. There were a lot of words that seemed to have different meanings here, and it was all pretty confusing for him.

“Okay, so the Gifted are born with strong powers that only appear around puberty, but the Blessed are somehow a step above them?”

“Yes,” Dara nodded. “The Blessed are bound to their god through a binding oath. Their god bestows a blessing on them, sharing a bit of their own power, which takes the form of a powerful ability. Each Blessed and blessing are different, depending on the god and the Blessed.”

“Huh. Can you give me an example?”

“Of course. My father told me stories about his time serving under Blessed Clachta, whose personal gift is already quite powerful. It allows him to sustain tremendous damage, with his entire body transforming into a metallic material that can’t be cut or broken. Gifted Tanca has a similar gift, though not quite as strong.”

“Tanca is one of your father’s guards?” he asked. Dara had mentioned him a couple of times during their journey.

“More like a captain of his guards outside my home,” Dara corrected. “But unlike Tanca, Clachta also has his blessing, which augments his defensive gift with a long-range attack.”

“Huh,” he said, imagining a walking metal warrior that could throw lightning bolts around. “That’s lucky to get something offensive along with his armored skin.”

Dara stared at him without comment, her eyes measuring him for a moment, but then her expression firmed with determination. “Blessings are often a way to make up for a deficiency that increases their overall effectiveness. There must be a balance, and the cost is that their god must give up a bit of their own strength in giving the blessing. In Clachta’s case, his power is nowhere near Dia Aaric’s massive columns of destructive blasts, but his blessing lets Clachta throw bursts of yellow energy from his fists. In fact, if he builds up a charge, he can throw off tremendous explosions. There are songs about his exploits in the Dark Wars, though my father says many are a tad embellished,” she finished with a slight smile.

“So is this power permanent and only from his god?”

“Yes and no,” Dara replied, a frown under furrowed brows appearing. “Dia Aaric gave Clachta his blessing many years ago before I was born, but blessings can be removed, though it is rarely done.”

“Alright, so does that mean that I’m a Gifted since I don’t follow any god, regardless of how powerful I am?”

“Yes, but you seem more powerful than other Gifted I’ve met. Still, without a God, you can’t be a Blessed.”

“Huh, gotcha. I think I understand the basic difference between the Gifted and Blessed, but what about the rest of your people? How do they fit into your world?”

“Think of the world as a mountain,” Dara said, drawing her hands across her chest, shaping a triangle. Her fingertips formed a steeple, the tips of each finger against the corresponding digits of the other hand, and her thumbs crossed each other to create the base. “The People are the foundation of the mountain. At the very bottom of the People are the Bound who are born to serve the Blessed by working the land for the greater glory of their god. They primarily live in farming communities outside the cities and towns and are bound in this life to pay the debt from their past lives.

“Above them are the Commons, who are also of the People and usually live in the towns and cities. They are the tradespeople, shopkeeps, guards, clergy, and such. Some of the Commons are a bit stronger than average, and these are the Talents with strengths and abilities that almost approach that of the Gifted – some even develop into Gifted later in life.”

“But where do the Gifted and Blessed fit within the people?” he asked, thinking the whole structure seemed like a hell of a stratification and caught the side-eye Dara threw his way. She apparently didn’t subscribe to the “no such thing as a dumb question” school of thought.

“The Gifted and Blessed are not the People. They are the Gifted and the Blessed.” She said this as if she was telling him that water was wet.

“Wait, so if I’m Gifted or Blessed, I’m suddenly not a person? That seems a bit strange. At what point am I not a human anymore?”

“No, they are human like you, but they are also Gifted and Blessed.”

“So the people and Bound are not human?”

“Are you doing this on purpose?” Dara replied with a hint of anger, her dark eyes piercing.

“One sec,” Eli said and held up a hand, a “hold on” gesture well known back home. Dara had spent enough time with him to realize he needed a moment to correct his stupidity. “I think this is another time where the translation might be off. I think you’re adding a capital letter to ‘people’ that I’m not used to hearing, so how about you continue, and I’ll try and shut up?

“Okay,” she said with a firm nod.

He smiled at the word, sure she’d learned it from him. He did use it a lot, come to think of it.

“Above the People are the Gifted,” Dara continued. “They have abilities and power that lift them above the People.”

He raised one eyebrow.

“Ask,” Dara said. She made a gesture he’d never seen from her before, her right-hand index finger extended up, touching the bottom of her ear. He filed the new gesture away to ask about later, trying not to get distracted from her lesson.

“Sorry, I guess I didn’t shut up for long, but how does that work? Where is the line between People and Gifted? Like, do you wear certain clothing? Is there a title you earn? Does someone bestow it? Does the universe give it to you? That part really confuses me.” He scratched his head, thinking of even more questions he had.

“That is the part that is confusing to you? Just that?” Dara asked, her eyes going round.

“Huh? No! I have so many questions!” He answered but then caught the edge of her lips quivering.

“I should apologize,” Dara said, her smile blooming before she let out a few chuckles and reached over, patting his hand. “I can see how you’ve struggled to understand these new ideas, but you’ve also driven me crazy with your questions. I’d like to think you earned that,” she said, her smile tilting into a grin.

“Okay, okay, you got me,” he replied, his laughter echoing hers, a bit of warmth spreading in his chest after she finally cracked a joke.

“There is a power to the Gifted and the Blessed,” she continued, gesturing to a spot not too far from her core. “In here. I was taught that we all have power but to varying degrees. The Talents, for example, are of the People, but they don’t have the power to be Gifted. The Blessed are like Gifted, but augmented through vows and blessings.”

It sounded like a caste system to him based on their gifts and abilities. There was some perceived power that this society valued, but he hadn’t quite figured out how they sensed it in others.

“How about I tell you what I think you said, and you can correct me?” he asked, and Dara nodded. “So at the bottom of the mountain, you have the Bound who don’t have many rights or powers and usually work the land for the Blessed. Then there are the everyday citizens like craftspeople, guards, and such above them. Within this group are some with abilities that aren’t strong enough to be Gifted. Yet because they’re stronger than the average citizen, they’re called Talents? So then, are the Gifted and Blessed ruling over all of them?”

Dara frowned. “Citizenship isn’t a guarantee. Some are People without formal recognition. The Blessed are higher on the mountain, below the Gods but above the Gifted.” Maybe noticing his frown, she held up a fist and then counted off, extending a finger as she listed each one. “There are the Bound, Commons, Talents, Gifted, and Blessed.” Dara then closed her fist. “All controlled by the will of the gods.”

That’s some heavy shit. So the vast majority of humanity here is either a serf or a commoner. They’re the real workforce of the world. They farm the land and keep the towns running. Then, the local gods rule everything with their Blessed and Gifted acting as the execs and managers. Damn, the big corporate world is alive and well here too.

He snorted at the parallels between their worlds, simultaneously amused and disgusted at humanity finding a way for some to rise to the top while pushing the vast majority down.

“Be right back,” he said, getting up to find a convenient bush or tree to do his business. He started walking towards a few of the stunted trees nearby, but a glowing light drew his eyes to the slowly rising form coming over the horizon. Stunned for a moment, thinking a gigantic monstrous Cheshire cat was smiling at him, his brain finally caught up to recognize a massive crescent moon on its side. The top of the celestial body was barely discernable, with only a tiny sliver of bright silver light along the bottom, but the overall size was shocking. The moon was just something he took for granted with how it looked, hanging in the sky, so seeing something five or even ten times larger was hard to wrap his head around.

“Woah,” he breathed and turned back with a smile. “That’s your moon?”

“That’s Maor, Lackar's consort,” Dara said with a grin of her own, staring past him at the rising giant. She got up, her blanket slipping off her shoulders momentarily while she lifted it to keep it out of the dirt and grass. She soon stood at his shoulder, her blanket tightening against the evening breeze.

“What’s the story there?” Eli had always been interested in each culture's different stories about creation, the natural world, heaven and hell, and everything in between.

“My people would say that Maor is happy at the moment, satiated after they consummated their relationship a few days ago. But by next week, he’ll again cast his eye on beautiful Lurra.”

“Oh really? Would Maor have been fully dark then?” he asked, thinking that a few days ago might have been their new moon, assuming the celestial bodies aligned enough for it to occur.

“They’re just stories,” she replied with a little laugh, joining him as they stared at the beautiful sight.

It was strange, but something about the sky looked off. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was and traced the moon's edges, but it seemed normal enough outside its enormous size. He looked away towards the rest of the sky, where a few solitary lights twinkled against the pitch-black backdrop.

“Dara,” he whispered, his heartbeat suddenly thumping loudly in his ears, “where are your stars?”