9 Chapter 9 – On the Road to Erideena (pt2)

Morning felt like it came early the next day despite how tired she had been the night before from all the exercising Casia had awoken just before the sun had risen.

From what she saw looking up between the treetops the sky was still dim; clouds speckled all across a grey blue morning atmosphere.

Sitting up, Casia looks around the camp; the campfire smoulders lightly with thin tendrils of smoke rising upwards; Oryn next to Melik, using her large form as a backrest; Elain lay down beside her, still asleep.

Looking around further she notices Dyormah and Siidra a little further away from the camp, kneeling side by side, and performing a series of motions in a practiced and fluid way.

Casia had seen them meditate a lot since they had met, but this was new.

As they moved the two spoke in a language she did not know, the tone conveying to Casia that this was religious chant, praising some god.

Watching them silently mesmerized her, seeing how their bodies sway, arms move out from their bodies spreading wide, and then arching upwards to the sky, palms up as if receiving something, coming together in a slow silent clap, and down in prayer, their heads following the motion downwards, before repeating the motion, continuing to sway left, right, back and forth.

They finished just as the sun broke out from the horizon and began to light up the sky to its proper blue hue.

After taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, the two demi-humans bow towards the sun, and then to each other before standing up.

Casia smiles as they head back towards her. "Good morning." She greets them, tipping her head a little.

"Good morning Lord-ling." Dyormah responds, tipping his head also.

"My lady." Siidra replies with a smile.

"I hope you don't mind, but I saw what you were doing. It looked like a dance... but sat down."

Siidra smiles. "It was our morning prayer to Kidri'nek."

"The demi-human god correct?"

Siidra frowned a little. "Kidri'nek is the spirit of the Kemonokin." She responded, pointedly saying the name of her species, rather than the term 'demi-human'.

Casia knew she had fumbled unintentionally; while most Demi-humans do not mind being called such, there is some who prefer the correct title.

"Forgive me. I spoke without care." She apologises sincerely, once again bowing her head in a respectful and lady-like.

Siidra smiled, and bowed her head to acknowledge and silently accept the apology, before moving to reignite the fire with fresh wood and kindling so she could prepare water for boiling tea.

"We have no gods, no great all powerful deities, like other species." She began to explain, quite happy to continue the explanation of her faith. "Kidri'nek is just one of many spirits that created and sustain the world. We give praise to Kidri'nek's gift of life as well as Kidri'nek's ceaseless devotion to maintain balance in the world."

"He sounds like a god." Casia comments, making Siidra giggle, amused.

"Kidri'nek is formless, not 'he'… not 'she' just... Kidri'nek." She explains, hoping the human would understand her meaning. "But yes, my faith says Kidri'nek is the Omniarch of all Kemonokin. Giving life to the lands along with Gindi'turik, the mate of Kidri'nek, and who is patron of the forests."

"Mate? But you said Kidri'nek was genderless, how can he… she…err… why would Kidri'nek have a mate?"

Siidra blinked and cocked her head. "What does gender have to do with love?" she asks, then realises. "Ahh… they are mates, not for breeding, but for the love of each other." The tiger-woman laughs a little, once again amused.

With the fire now lit, Siidra fills the pot with water from the river and places on top of the flames, herbs being added for flavour.

"Are all dem… Kemonokin as religious? I admit, I have met very few in person, and have little knowledge of your beliefs."

"I am a Den'suun... umm, what would you call a novice… an apprentice cleric of our faith. Though, not for long; my return to Erideena will see my ascension to Den'komo... full Cleric." She smiles at that, pleased.

"Oh? Is your husband… umm mate, also a priest?"

"My mate is also my student. He will become novice when he returns with me. We met on my pilgrimage, so he has not yet been formally ordained, and in our time together he has devoted himself to me, and our faith."

"I didn't know Priests were allowed to marry." Casia sounds surprised.

"I am unsure of that, but human religion is not Kimonokin religion. Gindi'turik teaches that nature is within us, to ignore the natural order of which we were givn, would only dishonour the great spirits. I can serve my faith, love my mate, and bear his children when I am blessed, and all will be equal in my heart as Kidri'nek teaches."

"It sounds lovely." Casia smiles, though Siidra notices a hint of a sad tone.

"Have I said something wrong?"

"It's nothing. I guess finding your love, and just letting it happen is something I'll never experience, unless I'm lucky." Casia replies with a soft voice and sigh.

"Why?"

"I am… or was set to marry a nobles son."

"You do not love this noble?"

Casia laughs, realising the confusion. "No… There is no one, yet. What I mean is, it is my duty to marry another noble, to strengthen bonds. I'm not the heir like my brother, so marrying me off isn't a priority. But one day I know father will come to me and announce that I am betrothed."

Casia pulls up her knees, and holds them, resting her chin on her knees, she had come to terms with this fate a long time ago, but it never stopped her dreaming of falling in love. Her Father had married her mother out of duty, and it had been rocky at times as they had a conflict of personality; she was a warrior, he a magician, she liked a fight, he debated; They spent a lot of time apart early on in their marriage as she had taken on the role of a captain, with her own order, 'the order of the Eight'.

But it wasn't to say that they did not love each other, in fact by the time Simren was born, they had had become quite enamoured with each other; it gave Casia some hope that whomever she married she too would love in time.

"PAH!" Dyormah scoffs with an added feline hiss "Humans are so barbaric; trading in the hearts of their off-springs!"

"My love, do not criticise that which we are not a part of; for their gods give a balance that differs."

Siidra turns back to Casia. "Forgive him."

"It's okay, I kind of agree." She smiles a little, awkwardly, making Siidra smile too.

"You wish to mate of your own choice?"

Casia blushes. "Well… mating… I mean… I would like to choose who I… ummm… marry, sure." her embarrassment grows with a faint tint to her cheeks at the topic being turned to her.

"Perhaps with the crazy one?" Dyormah teases.

"W-WHAT?!" Casia glances over to Oryn with a face turning bright red. "W-We just met, wh-what makes you think I… that I could... people do not just pick the first boy they lay their heads on... I mean hands on... I mean it's not what you think!"

Siidra sniffs the air. "Your pheromones spike at the very mention of him. You are attracted to him?"

"Th-this is… is too sudden! I have no idea wh-what you mean a-about pheromones! I have no attraction to him at all, h-he's a total stranger! A-and scruffy too!" Casia states herself matter-of-factly, as if each point she makes is solid evidence and not the rambling excuses of an embarrassed and flustered girl; so the two Kemonokin just smile and leave the topic alone.

************

An hour passes and with the wagon hooked back up to Melik everyone begins to tidy up their camp, burying their scraps and making sure the campfire is completely out.

Oryn offers Casia a hand to climb up on to the back of the wagon, but she just ignores his hand and him with a frown, climbing on herself.

She had also changed back in to her dress, no longer in his spare clothes, though she had kept them for when she would next train with the wooden sword.

Oryn was confused as to why she was ignoring him in such an indignant manner, but was in no mood either to deal with it, and so chose to ignore it; his concern was focused on Elain.

After their talk the previous night, Oryn had been pondering what to do about her offer of joining them after his own business.

He was split, in more ways than one, but directly he had not pondered beyond the completion of his own quest if it even concluded at Erideena; the voices that bother him all the time had opinions, and they had not let him rest easily for much of the night, the debate of what to do tore apart his mind with a frustrating cacophony of noise spouting pros and cons, drowning out his own thoughts.

For a long time he has feared he would lose himself amongst them, but it is at points like this, his own deep pain would call forth the only voice that mattered; the gentle, but commanding voice of his respected captain, silencing them with a single command.

She rarely spoke out in his mind choosing to retreat to a part of his consciousness that he did not know how to enter.

In the end the pain dulled, and the topic slipped from thought as he passed out.

When morning came though the debate was restored, but thankfully he had other things to focus on, and the idea of sitting at the front of the wagon with only his own thoughts was a little hard to bear.

"Are you not coming up?" Siidra asks as Oryn pats Melik on the shoulder, and walks alongside the large wolf as they start to move.

"I need the walk." Was all Oryn had chosen to explain as they head back to the road.

"An excellent idea!" Dyormah happily calls out as he jumps back down to join in the exercise alongside the wagon. "Sitting is far too boring"

Siidra smiles "Indeed, but I shall meditate upon my pilgrimage more, but walk well and tall my mate."

"I will my love!" he says, raising his axe in signal, before holding it over his shoulder.

"This is your pilgrimage? I take it your return to Erideena marks it fulfilment?" Elains enquires.

"You know of the pilgrimage?" Siidra replied; a little surprised.

"Yes. I once met a Pilgrim called Glim; he wasn't a priest, but a devout."

"You have met Glim? That is quite the honour!"

"Who's glim?" Casia asks.

"He is the Champion of Erideena's Leader, Chairman Veeris." Siidra answers.

"I met him three years ago when he came through Ayrisia." Elain adds.

"So, what is this Pilgrimage for anyway?" Casia was curious. "What is religious for you in Ayrisia?"

"Nothing." Siidra bluntly states. "The pilgrimage is simply a journey around the Dragon spine, or what you call the Gerry Mountains."

"From what I understand, it is a spiritual journey to not just discover yourself, but the blood of your ancestors."

Casia silently pondered what Elain meant by 'blood of your ancestors'.

Siidra noticed this.

"There is a third reason also, but to release your confusion, young one, to discover the blood of our ancestors is simply to mean find the wild, animal side that is inside all Kemonokin; that part of us that seeks to be beasts, to be creatures free of nature, to understand it, and find a way, as Kidri'nek teaches, to find balance between it and, what you consider our 'civil' side."

"So you learn to control your animal instincts?"

"Not control; that would imply domination of one over the other. Subjugation or suppression of one half of you is not balance, not freedom; to accept who we are, truly, both sides must share the soul." Siidra smiled, and places her hand, which was covered in a fingerless leather glove, on her chest. "I am an Animal… a beast that hunts prey with tooth and claw. But I am also a Cleric, a person of culture and faith. I am also both."

Casia looks to Siidra who suddenly appears much more at ease by saying those words, as if they held the power to relax her entire body.

Unfortunately the power they held for Casia was like a spell of confusion.

"I… I don't get it…how can you be two things at the same time? I mean no offense when I say this, but how can you be a beast, and civil at the same time?"

"That, young one is the main purpose of the Pilgrimage, to answer that very question."

"And you… have that answer?" Casia asks, a little reluctantly.

Siidra takes a moment to think about her reply "I have… 'MY' answer."

Casia looks to her like she was trying to trick her. Was there not just ONE answer?!

"You said there was another reason?" Elain soon interjects while Casia puzzles over the Kemonokins response.

"Yes. But it is more political. It has been 300 years since the Kemonokin were restored to themselves, and Erideena was annexed from its former masters."

"I read about that!" Casia suddenly chimes in, thankful she was finally able to be a part of this conversation with her own knowledge of history; it was required since it was relevant when trading with demi-humans. "Erideena closed its borders for almost a century after the revolt in which the Dem… I mean Kemonokin revolted against the slave masters that had been trading in them for centuries. The Kingdom opened its gates for trade, but diplomacy did not truly gain ground until a century ago when…"

"Yes, very good Casia." Elain interrupts; Casia was speaking with a bit of authority as she recited the lesson she had learned like she was teaching them.

"When the kingdom opened its gates, the people of the other kingdoms were afraid; of us as creatures, of a possible war of retribution, or one of many other reasons; the pilgrimage had been up until then kept to the internal forests within the our walls, but the Den'Kemoguura... our high priests believed if, by the wisdom of Kidri'nek, balance was to be restored within the world, then we must show ourselves, and the peace we wished; to s how who we are."

"So…it's like a diplomatic tour as well." Casia queries;

"Indeed." Siidra bows her head at Casia's understanding of the situation.

Casia smiles in return, pleased too that she had finally not seemed so… uninformed; Casia was uncomfortable at feeling dim-witted.

As they talked more amongst themselves, Oryn continues walking beside Melik, strolling in pace with the burdened beast which was closer to a light jog than a walk.

The exercise would often help, allowing him to focus on his breathing and heart rate rather than have to endure the noise in his head; a task in of itself that was exhausting.

"Boy, I wish to ask you a question!" Dyormah suddenly stated as he approaches from behind to walk beside Oryn and looked down at him, as the human was at least two feet shorter than the large Tiger man.

"Do you have to?" The reply was brisk, but not disrespectful.

"I wish to know what curse is upon you!"

"Curse?"

"The curse that riddles you with many voices"

"Oh… just say I'm mad, and leave it at that."

"Ah… but you are not crazed I think."

Oryn was quite taken aback by that immediate assumption, it wasn't one most would assume straight off. "And what makes you think that?"

"I know little of the workings of the mind, but I have seen madmen; few acknowledge that they are crazy. Yet you speak label it to yourself more as an excuse than an answer. Yet you do not lie, and you do not fake the pain it brings you."

Oryn responds with silence for several moments. "It's… complicated."

"Hmm… then I will not speak of it further, complicated matters frustrate me. Instead, let us speak of what we know, of our great hunts, and of victorious battles!"

"Not many to tell for me… but… go ahead I guess. Maybe it will distract me." Oryn sighs; having snapped at Casia during their first night for trying to converse with him he had confessed to being a little out of practice talking with people, and maybe a foreign voice would subdue the voices he was trying to shut out.

************

Castus sits upon a high backed ornate chair that stands atop a hexagonal platform with two more increasingly wider hexagonal platforms below it, making it a stepped stage.

A long carpet of red and gold connects the throne to the main doorway of the large hall stone built hall. Three large arching windows filling almost all of the 30 foot high wall behind the throne, while the other walls are decorated in banners holding the emblem of the countries new ruler; a black triangle with a white circular at its centre, and a red circle around it.

Either side of the carpet stood the courts nobles, warriors and rich men in a crowding around the pathway as they watch Fyropea entering through the large dark oak doors with a confident strut, her hips swaying.

The crowd gasps as they see her; her pale skin; her risqué outfit; her sassy demeanour; but mostly the red jewel embedded in her chest.

"A witch?!"

"Why is a witch here?!"

"How dare this witch stroll in here!"

Muttering of complaints spread through the crowd, Fyropea ignoring them beyond the amusement of their fear.

Castus stood up from his seat, and everyone went quiet when he speaks.

"Ah, my dear I take it all is well?" he greets the witch with an informal and gleeful expression, arms open as if ready to embrace her, and stunning the crowd further at his familial salutation.

As Fyropea approaches Castus, he looks around behind her, only seeing the captain he had sent with her and no one else.

"Your niece is stubborn." She replies with a tone of annoyance, but also a casual boredom as he silent asks a question she expected.

The news though did not please the new lord of Ayrisia, and his expression darkened.

"So… you let them escape?" he grumbled with admonishment.

"If I recall, it was you who let them escape, my lord… that is why you sent me after them, is it not?"

Fyropea sneers as she provokes Castus on purpose, and his expression darkens further, though he remains silent.

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO LORD CASTUS IN SUCH A MANN…" a large knight covered in thick plate armour steps forward angrily, Castus's expression tensing further, and his body freezing as Fryopea reaches out with her arm, barely glaning to the knight before with a flick her hand, a wave of energy springs from her finger tips and tossing the heavy knight ten feet backwards hitting the stone wall with a crash.

"Control your men… my dear lord." She smirks, her eyes pulsing with energy for a moment.

Her visage is quite playful, but she gives off a threatening aura that makes him not wish to confront the witch.

He turns to his fallen man. "Keep yourself in check fool. If you offend my dearest advisor I'll have your head!"

The knight grits his teeth in anger, but calms himself as he stands, and bows with a "yes, my lord."

"Such a sweet king you are." She smiles with a creepily sweet grin as she reaches over with a single finger stroking it along Castus' cheek.

"My lord, I must protest, having this WITCH in this court is disgraceful!" the words ring out through the hall as a nobleman steps forward, everyone turning to the brave soul who speaks with disgust at Fyropeas presence, and attitude. "She dares to not only harm one of your men, but treat you with such disrespe…."

His words are lost, replaced by screams as his body suddenly ignites in to flame, the crowd rapidly backing away to safety as the man burns on the spot screaming out still alive, feeling his skin char, and his blood boil; his body held in place by the magic of Fyropea, who manically grins with eyes wide open in a fit of insane excitement.

No one dares speak as she begins to giggle in glee like a young girl playing with her favourite toy, enjoying the vision of flesh and clothes melting, skin searing from muscle, and that muscle blackening and sizzling like steak.

When his eyes burst and his voice ceases, his body crumbles to the ground; no longer held; the flames dissipating; leaving the burnt out husk of a former human in place of what once was living.

Fyropea then turns on her heels cheerfully facing the others with a stern look on her face "Everyone listens up." She shouts out, arms spread open as she bellows in to the large chamber. "I don't care about having, or giving respect to any of you. I am Fyropea, the Courtesan of Chaos; I do as I wish to whoever annoys me! If you're lucky you may become my pet, if not…" she looks over to the smouldering corpse. "As for your new king… our business is ours. Do not interfere."

Once finished she lowers her arms again, the room is deadly silent except for the crackling of the burnt body, and Fyropea walks up to the throne.

"As for your dearest Niece, she has more fight in her than you told me, also, your brothers Champion was not alone in protecting her. There was a bad, bad little boy who helped them." She frowns at the memory of the fight.

Castus shifts his gaze from the nobleman's body to Fyropea with a moment of silence as he gets his bearings back on topic.

"Boy? You had trouble with a boy?" he asks, not sure he had heard her correctly.

Fyropea holds up her hand and summons forth wisps of smoke that form circle and rotate above her palm, condensing and forming in to a smoke filled orb; images of her fight with Elain appear, then of Casia, and finally Oryn.

Castus' eyes look at him, first with confusion, then suspicion as a grain of recognition enters his mind.

"I've seen him somewhere before..." he mutters. "Show me his face."

The witch nods and freezes the image to give a clear look of Oryns face.

"You recognise him?!"

"I'm not sure. Do you recall every no-body you meet that is below you?"

"Point taken." She grins. "He looked like an Arysian Guard. You've probably seen him around."

"Maybe... but I don't like this." He says, gesturing for her to end the vision. "Where are they now?"

"On the road to Erideena." She replies.

"Go after them."

"It takes a lot of energy to personally open up a portal, I'm tired." She yawns playfully, "Why not send more men through the portal gate in the mana chamber?"

Castus frowns, but nods.

He signals to a nearby cloaked figure with a tall staff in hand, a crystal held at the top and glowing with power.

"Scry for the Princess, I will have warriors sent to the mana chamber, send them to her location, and keep the portal open so they can return with her."

"Yes... my lord." The man bows, turns and walks passed Fyropea, giving her a glance as he does, the witch smirking as he frowns and walks away.

Castus sits back on the throne feeling more in a foul mood.

"Everyone leaves..." he commands, no one hesitating in their departure, and keeping several feet away from the burnt body as they depart.

"You seem upset, my lord." Fyropea smiles as she hops up on to his lap and sits.

He says nothing, but mentally fumes at the delay of his proper ascension to the throne.

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