Aur Child

Sann-Na had scoured the lands between her cottage and the sea in search of Alai-Tiul. In fewer than five days, she arrived at the outskirts of Dragon’s Snout, drained of vigor and wits. Two weeks with little rest, she thought. Despite exhaustion compiled by frustration, she glided powerfully down towards the market square, racing past villagers in the grim, grey pale of oncoming night. Perhaps she should have stopped at some cottages to ask if they had seen him. Perhaps she could have retraced their original route.

She rested her skis against the rough stone wall of Snout and Snuffer and dragged her limp body straight to the bar. “Torsten, I stay here tonight.”

“Mm-hmm,” the innkeeper replied. He observed her bedraggled condition as he poured her a pint. He nodded towards the middle of the room. “I’m guessing that elder from the southern continent would like to speak with you.”

Sanna looked up at him. In a gasp she said, “An elder?”

“Mm-hmm.”

She turned around. Sure enough, at a table beside the large fire stove, sat a miniscule old woman with the same dark features as Alai. The elder was unmistakably of the same people as the man she sought. Beside her sat a very small girl immersed in study. She hadn’t found Alai, but she was certain this woman could help her. She left a smile for Torsten and walked over with her glass.

Sanna sat down at the table across from the elder woman. “Greetings, Elder Tiul.”

The little girl was first to react. With a gasp, she said, “You are the spitting image of Digambar!”

Sanna grinned. “Where have I heard that before?”

Gallia, too, had been reading from a scriptleaf. She looked up at the disheveled woman sitting in front of her. Many people passed through the harbor of Hill Village on merchant ships, but they were rarely of this size. She stared at the blond hair and face flushed red for a few moments. She smiled broadly.

“You are the courier named Sann-Na?”

“Yes, Elder Tiul.”

“And I am Sand Flea,” the girl said, in a giddy tone. “Digambar’s friend. You too are beautiful!”

Sanna cocked her head at the odd name but managed to hold her smile. “Nice to meet you, Sand Flea.”

Gallia put her scriptleaf down on the table. Sand Flea attempted to speak, but Gallia held her hand up towards her in an apparent effort to calm the bouncing girl.

“Is Alai-Tiul with you?” she asked.

“No, Elder Tiul.”

“Where is he, dear?”

“I don’t know. I expected to track him before he returned to Dragon’s Snout. I have not been successful.”

“Is he in danger?”

“I believe so. He is being chased by strange people.” She turned to Sand Flea. “Why do you stare at me?”

Sand Flea sat up straight at the question. “What kind of strange people?” she asked.

“I don’t know how to explain it. People ...wearing people. They put themselves inside others. They don’t want him. They want his Aur boule.” Sanna shuddered with the recollection of Kjell-Tors’ convulsions and his haunting words.

“My Aur boule,” Gallia said. She looked disappointed. Her lips were pressed together, emphasizing the deep lines around her mouth. Sanna looked at her round face and broad features. The thick nose and wide mouth all proportional. Large ears characteristic of the elderly extended from behind curly gray hair on the sides of her head.

The elder replied. “You have seen too much, dear. More than you should have to. It is very strange, indeed.”

“What does it all mean?”

“All? Life would be dull if we understood it all,” Gallia stated in her comfortable elder voice.

Sanna stared at Gallia, trying hard to look respectful but revealing her frustration with a furrowed brow. She remembered why she didn’t like speaking with elders. They always speak in riddles when all I want are facts.

Gallia seemed to react to this silent refusal of elder circumlocutions.

“I will try to explain something of the matter, Sann-Na, but first help me try to understand where Alai-Tiul may be.”

“Likely heading to the Odyssey. But I suspect he will stop here.”

“What is the Odyssey?” Gallia asked with a frown.

“His ship. Don’t you know it?”

“I would hardly call Alai’s fishing dinghy a ship.”

“Not his fishing dinghy, Elder Tiul,” Sand Flea interrupted. “It’s the ghost ship we’ve talked about.”

“That’s the one,” Sanna said. “The Odyssey is more like a small island. With tenders that navigate themselves and invisible people talking from the walls. Haven’t you seen her?”

Gallia’s face collapsed into a scowl.

“It has two hulls,” she said, more as a statement than a question, “and shimmers between black and invisible.”

Sanna reached over to hold the elder’s shaking hand. “Are you alright, Elder Tiul?” she asked.

Gallia frowned darkly, “What has he gotten himself into? We teach Our Order precisely to prevent such entanglements.”

Torsten appeared beside Sanna, placing a large plate on the table in front of her. She wasted no time cutting into the meat and eating voraciously. Again, Sand Flea was staring at her, but when Sanna attempted to make eye contact, the scrawny girl frowned and looked away. Those first bits of food immediately brought clarity to her thinking. Sanna realized that there was another more important topic with which this elder might be able to help.

With a mouth full of potatoes, she asked, “Is Alai’s son well?”

Gallia opened her mouth in surprise. She seemed to think for a moment and then spoke in a hushed tone.

“No, Sanna. Alai’s son and wife died of food poisoning three days after the attempt to steal the Aur boules. I believe these events are connected, though I cannot explain how. I have spoken with elders both in Gjoa and here in Dragon’s Snout. None seem to understand the powers involved. Unfortunately, Alai must have blamed himself and fled the village before we made this connection. I have traveled all this way to tell this to him, to tell him that he is not responsible in any way for the death of his family, and to welcome him back to his clan.”

Sanna had dropped her utensils. She thought of that gentle man who she suspected of hiding secrets. He had tried to be honest with her. More than she had been. He had shared what he could.

Upon hearing this information, Sanna felt the wall she built around herself crumble. She decided to raise a subject she rarely volunteered, herself.

“Elder Tiul, what do you know about my sister, Tieri-Na?”

Gallia looked up and turned her head slightly. This question seemed to be unexpected. Sanna sensed that Gallia did not recognize the name, so she tried again. “Alai called her Digambar for some reason. Sand Flea, you said you were friends with her.”

“Yes,” Sand Flea replied cautiously. “We met in Gjoa. I have come with Elder Tiul to find her. But she never used the name Tieri-Na.”

“No,” Sanna said, shaking her head. “She wouldn’t use that name because it was not her.”

“How can you know that?” Sand Flea asked.

Sanna said, “I was told that Digambar used Tieri-Na’s body, but I don’t understand what that means.”

Gallia asked, “Does your sister, Tieri-Na, speak the languages of Gjoa?”

Sanna smiled in a fond memory. “I doubt that. Tieri hates languages. Other than our tongue, she only speaks the merchant tongue. She refused to learn anything else.”

“I don’t understand,” Sand Flea said. “Digambar spoke our language a little bit.”

“Neither do I, really,” Sanna said, “The woman you met …on the outside, I believe, was my sister.”

“Yes,” Sand Flea replied, “She looks so much like you.” And then, as if a fresh idea came to the girl, she said, “But Digambar is an Apostate. Isn’t that right, Elder Tiul? So, she uses another’s body as Sann-Na says.”

“Used,” Sanna said.

The smile on Sand Flea’s face from having made this progress faded. She trembled and seemed to force out her words.

“Has something happened to Digambar?” she asked.

“Digambar, I was told, has returned to her home. As for my sister, Alai told me before we parted that she was buried at sea. Or at least her body was. Tieri-Na’s body.” Sanna said. And then, turning to Gallia, she said, “That is why I asked you, Elder Tiul. Perhaps you can help me understand what it means for the soul to survive but not the body?”

Sanna felt herself overcome with weariness as she awaited the reply from Gallia.

“Sanna,” the elder said, “you have made a long journey. You must rest now. In the morning, would you show me around the village? While we walk, I will give you the answers you seek.”

Sanna nodded in agreement. As she stood up, she said, “I understand an elder needs time to consider the facts. I will ask Torsten to alert us if Alai arrives.”