Chapter 3: By the Banks of a Beginning
“That’s Rraos Arroxath?!” R’vag’s voice boomed with incredulity.
To him, this was an unbelievable moment. He and Jyevodirr were only two country boys. Their dreams were too big for their own heads. But today, they were running wild at an oversized house. A place people never could set foot in. Not without permission. Because this was the house of a Zax’syilava Ziggoyeth[1]. Again – not a house of any random people, but of one of the four Jewel Families! Of one of the zaxa’s strongest four!
So, wasn’t it even more unbelievable? The fact that it was all for a sheltered swindler? This person cracked when shaken away from power. He cried and folded at his life’s first true challenge.
What the fuck was Jyevodirr even thinking?
“Go easy on him, R’vag,” His friend responded with a calm ease. The young man knew R’vag would neither fully understand nor support his plan. “He’s had his whole world flipped upside down. I’m sure nothing in his life had prepared him for this.”
Truthfully, Jyevodirr did understand his friend’s concerns. The reason he disagreed was that his childhood friend, with a shallower perception of strength, did not see beyond the problems. Because the young Arroxath did possess strength. A different kind of it, for sure, but strength was strength, whatever be its form. Rraos could very well cry and soil himself, but as long as he kept his sharp thinking and his pursuit of strange ideals, he would remain strong. Whatever was lacking would be gained in time.
One day, R’vag would see that too. That was the whole point of these adventures. For everyone to learn and grow, to one day leave their own mark behind.
“Fine,” R’vag assented, though his expression only showed reluctance. “I'll take care of this damned dress-up doll. C’mon, theyi – let’s finish things here.”
“No, R’vag,” Jyevodirr replied with a gentle fist-bump. His eyes were trained warily on the motionless man shrouded from head to toe. “You should go ahead with him. I still have things I need to do here.”
R’vag eyes bulged, ears nearly fell off in surprise.
He had trouble understanding his friend sometimes. Really, he did! Still having things to do? Just what? They had the idiot they came for!
But there wasn’t anything R’vag could do – poor him! He couldn’t drag away his moronic friend. It wouldn’t be easy. Worse, he would also have to keep these Arroxath dogs at bay. And then, keeping the dead-weight safe through that? Impossible!
He was better off trusting his friend. Because, stupid as it sounds, trying all that together was stupider. And he wasn’t stupider. He was smart; Jyevodirr was strong. That had to be enough.
“Be sure to get back.” R’vag demanded his friend. “I can’t break in and break out alone. Keep it in mind, theyi.”
Jyevodirr threw back a careless laugh. “Don't worry, R’vag! I won't be long.”
That was when Rraos joined the conversation at last. “And how do you madmen intend to leave? Do you have someone else waiting in a carriage?”
He had intended the question for both, but Jyevodirr had already left.
“O mighty Qaiz’rra! We ran here, and we’ll run back!” R’vag responded with a devious grin.
Rraos stiffened. He was being mocked.
A sense of revulsion bubbled up within him, but he forced it down. His standing had almost certainly been stripped, so he was in no position to criticize his mis-treatment.
Still, he was certain; he would not see eye to eye with this wild barbarian ever!
“I cannot run the way you do,” Rraos challenged without shying away from R’vag’s gaze.
“I know, O brave Qaiz'rra!” R’vag’s voice was like cloying honey. “On my back you’ll climb, like the world’s greatest toddler, and this poor xamos’ll carry you away!”
The barbarian crouched, waiting for Rraos to clamber on. When the older youth froze in confusion, R’vag wiggled his palms in invitation.
This was an absolute violation of of Rraos’ dignity as a human being! Undoubtedly the lowest time of his life! If he could, he would have eviscerated this tactless fool on the spot.
But he could not, and he had to stay alive now.
“Ah…. my butt’s paining, Qaiz’rra! Climbing’s the most difficult task now, isn’t it?” R’vag’s mockingly sweet tone cracked against Rraos’ pride like a whip.
Throwing away the last dredges of his dignity, he climbed onto R’vag’s broad back in full view of his familial audience. He hung like a child holding onto his mother's back. The shame sewed his mouth and eyes shut. If this was a rebirth, then rebirths were useless without an infant’s body to hide behind!
His shameful squirming caused R’vag to grunt in discomfort. The burly young man half-wondered if he should look for another money-person once he was back within Orron’s walls. Were the rich all like this? How did anyone ever challenge the Kraturreni Om’na[2], then? But that was a question for later. Now, he needed to leave.
Adjusting the lanky young man on his back for comfort, R’vag finally, hastily, fired through the damaged central avenue towards the welcoming vastness outside the estate.
All this time, Jyevodirr had been making sure no one got too close to the pair.
The momentarily stunned guards had gained back their momentum quite fast, so he had to keep them away. To do so, he had to be aware of his friends’, his enemies’, as well his own relative positions. He also had to adjust his strength for each opponent he faced, for he was not a slaughterer. There had been no time for anything other than a flurry of actions and thoughts.
But now that the pair had finally made their escape, Jyevodirr exhaled and momentarily relaxed and looked around. The courtyard was mangled here and there, but the damage was much less than he had expected. It made him wonder if a mayyune[3]or two had been hired to reinforce the place during construction. Maybe, or maybe not. How would he know? He had never been around luxury, had no idea how things worked for the wealthy.
Though he wanted to admire his surroundings as he was wont, he had no more time for it. The shrouded guard, the one he had met at the diner with Rraos, was upon him once more.
The man’s blades and strings flashed through the air with a murderous intent. Jyevodirr dodged the initial salvo, but he had to remain careful. The strings snagged here and there, forming a chaotic, fatal web.
The man wielding these was definitely a killer. When his webs were spun, no one else fought. When others fought with him, his lethality dropped. Each motion of his blades and threads were meant to kill. The threads were too thin to bind; the blades could be led only by their cruellest edge. And the webs threatened to slice him up, restricting his movements.
Beyond this, the webs weaved another bloodthirsty layer of complexity. They caught the strings moving the claw-like blades, changing directions and speeds of the blades mid-flight. Together, they lashed out from unpredictable angles in staggered, unnatural timings. It was a tangle of details that almost couldn’t be kept up with.
Contrary to that complexity of technique, the man controlling it all moved eerily too little. Even when he did, not a motion, nor an intention, was betrayed from the depths of his cloak. Had the shrouded man’s opponent been anyone less capable, they would have danced like a marionette on strings – puppeteered right to their death.
The shrouded man had to be a loqerron[4]. No one else could make killing look like an art, as far as Jyevodirr knew.
The movements of the man’s blades were so ingenious, so fascinating! Keeping track of so many things; not merely avoiding missteps but actually maintaining a tangible advantage – such things had no shortcuts. Talent alone could not facilitate this. The man had to have trained all his life for such skills. And who would train for death and killing with such rigor but the loqerra[5]?
These thoughts had to be dispelled when the cage of strings and blades closed in a little too far for Jyevodirr’s comfort.
“Be torn,” he commanded.
The elaborate string web tore apart and went limp. The claw-like blades chasing after him flew off in wild trajectories. Strings snapped into little bits fluttering away uselessly in the air.
If the loqerron was strong, so was Jyevodirr.
And so, he did not immediately chase after the killer. He wanted to think and marvel a little first. This was another surreal moment.
In his eyes, he could almost see the other children huddling with him under the dim light of fire. In his ears, the hushed tales of the night still spoke louder than the fire and the wind. He had delighted in them. Who wouldn’t have? Loqerra were a mysterious, fascinating tribe.
They were reckless killers, some said. Some said they were a warlike tribe. Many said they were assassins employed by equally mysterious clients. But whatever the tale, they were invariably linked to a single thing. Death.
Such was the man standing before him.
Before Jyevodirr could re-engage the loqerron, a young man, shorter than even him, tore through the spot he had been occupying an instant before. Jyevodirr’s body burnt with the heat of flames, his mind drunk the ecstasy of power. He barely steadied his breath and snapped his eyes towards the assailant, a young xamos. One he had downed earlier.
Faster than he could curb the deluge of power, Jyevodirr was in fromt of the xamos. He reared back his arm, forced back his power, then punched. Another xamos, one who had already been moving,barely blocked the hit. The older xamos was sent crashing, but he had managed to force Jyevodirr into a disadvantageous timing.
The young xamos, who had not been ready for the assault before, recovered during the split second lull. This time, it was the countryside youth who was unprepared for the sudden, speedy thrust of a spear. He barely twisted away from the attack, but others were closing in. The most concerning of them were a vicious tangle of threads and blades. They would allow him neither the opportunity nor the space to dodge.
He had no choice to let his power rampage a little now.
“Fall.”
Jyevodirr’s tone was soft. Urgent. It pulsed with power and spread out like a quake.
The whole estate rumbled. The implements out to kill him were buried hard into the ground. The xamos closest to him screamed in pain, obviously having broken some bones. Even the xamosa further away were down in some capacity – some sprawled out, others kneeling. Only two people on the massive central platform still stood. Jyevodirr himself, and the shrouded loqerron.
For a person so in tune with death, the killer was uncharacteristically strong. Or maybe that was how the loqerra were. This man’s strength certainly was cementing the tales as truths. Jyevodirr supposed he was lucky that the man had to face him out in the open. Imagining how dangerous the man would be in tight spaces made him shudder. All those blades and strings out in the open were already bad enough. To be forced to have them close at all times? That was a nightmare.
When the killer drew back his implements of murder, Jyevodirr could not help but watch in fascination. He then frowned at his own fascination.
Regardless of how splendid and novel all of this was, it was not desirable. In other circumstances maybe, but not now. Not when he did not want to engage anyone anymore if he could help it. There were whispers and questions floating around in the air about Rraos, and he wanted to talk about that. Beyond that, he also needed to make a promise. This was important.
Yet, he was quite far from what had in mind. He had been prepared for the worst, but not for this.
No one was pushing him back; no one was moving back. The defenders were simply defending well, keeping him moving in one place. Even the strongest people within the estate, other than the loqerron, seemed to be waiting, watching.
But why? Why were they neither threatening him, nor giving him an advantage? What was he supposed to understand from this strangeness?
Crooked blades suddenly rushed forward again. Jyevodirr dodged.
This repetition was beginning to tire him. He wished he could put down the burden of this mental game, but he did not have that choice. This strange skirmish was perhaps just an inertia of plans and events whose origins and intentions hid beyond his view. Perhaps, all he could do was to end it. To move ahead, see what awaited beyond this stalemate.
Jyevodirr never had the chance to make up his mind.
After a few more dreary minutes of repeated actions, the blades and strings and people stopped. A woman, in her forties by her looks, walked out from the largest doorway of the mansion to his right. Suddenly, all the seven strongest beside the loqerron made their presence known. They had him surrounded within a heartbeat, enforcing on their own people an abrupt silence and motionlessness.
The clacks of hard, pointed stilettos on stone broke through this fresh stillness. Thick, tall boots carried the woman within the living circle of the strongest, where she raised a dismissive arm. Sounds resumed; motion returned. Guards and xamosa began milling around with certainty, engaging in necessary tasks after the excitement and damage. With her presence, no one could dispute the unspoken claim – this dreary scuffle was finally over.
The drastic change instantly made it clear to Jyevodirr who the woman in front of him was. Who else could she be?
“My salutations, Kinz’rra[6],” he greeted the head of the Arroxatha. “I wanted to have a talk with you.”
The woman looked at him, then at her surroundings. Finally, she burst out into laughter.
“And since you were clueless on how to meet me, you decided to go to such lengths? Were you hoping to impress an old lady out into the open with such stunts?”
Her very first response left Jyevodirr disarmed. How was he supposed to answer this question? Admit he was not here for her primarily? Was that wise?
The woman continued speaking without giving him time to think. “Well then, young man, colour me impressed! Jyevodirr was your name, I have heard? What was so significant that you decided to snatch away the renegade son of mine? And to make a mess of our home, cause harm to a xamos under our care?”
Now, her mirth was nowhere to be found. She was standing right in front of Jyevodirr and looking down on him. Her toned muscles were tightened, her confident demeanour clouded with some darker emotion.
So, this is the Arroxath head, Jyevodirr thought.
Her also being Rraos’ mother was a surprise to him. Not only did she seem to possess a great variety of strengths, she also sounded smart. She sounded naturally formal. In fact, he actually could not understand a few words she had just said. Didn’t that mean she must be knowledgeable and educated?
Beyond what Jyevodirr thought of her, she was, above all else, a wilful woman. She did not wait for Jyevodirr to answer, for she believed that some questions may need answers beyond words. So, she turned to the xamos who lay in pain with broken bones.
“Before Jyevodirr here responds, V’rrayeth[7], you should demand your own answers. I believe this conversation is one that should be between you two, no? Look well – he seems to bear me no ill will yet. And I found myself quite entertained by his performance. The price I may have in my mind could very well differ from yours. After all, he broke your bones, harmed you without notice. What price would you have him pay for that?”
The young man, currently propped up by other xamosa, looked away from the woman’s gaze, gritted his teeth, and lowered his head.
“Nothing, Kinz’rra Rrianxi. There is no price I can ask of him. He has not taken my life, despite me trying my best to claim his. That was also not for a lack of capability.
I cannot ask anything, Kinz’rra Rrianxi. If I do, I shall only bring dishonour upon myself. I am a xamos. It is my duty to be strong. So, I must ask you for your forgiveness instead. The demand for answers belong to you alone.”
The woman – Rrianxi – smiled at the injured boy. Pride hid in the depths of her eyes.
“Very well, then. I forgive you. Go, get yourself attended to by a physician, then rest. Get stronger, V’rrayeth. I expect good things from you in the future.”
The injured young xamos nodded, then grimaced as he was carried away by the two other xamosa with him.
Having settled that matter, Rrianxi turned back to Jyevodirr. “Now speak, boy. What do you want to talk about?”
Jyevodirr shifted his weight around thoughtfully. He wondered if he should ask about the word that she had used – the one that he did not understand. Qagga[8], was it? It was prudent to know what the people here considered Rraos. But then, was that matter worth pursuing?
He was beginning to realize how little he knew, and how much he had assumed. He knew so little of the Arroxaths beyond what he had studied at school and heard of at the streets. And the rumours had been so fleeting, so dissonant. How would he even begin to have a conversation about all that here?
He was not a mastermind. He couldn’t make perfect deductions. For him, the simplest way to proceed now would be to skip the talk about rumours completely. Those snappy revelations only sounded good in his imagination anyways!
“Kinz’rra,” Jyevodirr began carefully, “I thought I’d talk to you about a lot of things. But I don’t think I should. Maybe, there isn’t much I have to say that you don’t already know. And I don’t know how to tell you the rest. So, let me just make a promise here to you.”
He took a deep, calming breath here. “You see, I intend to be the next Kraturr of our empire.”
Then he was silent. His silence was one that expected many to laugh. It was there to wait the laughter out.
But only a dead silence presided the ring of eight. It surprised Jyevodirr, made his silence louder.
“So, you don’t need to worry about Rraos,” he said, swallowing his surprise from their reaction. “I promise you; he is going to be a great person as well. When I become the Kraturr, he shall be one of my Mag’rra. The Mag’rrus of money, to be exact.” Strangely, there were quite a few chuckles here instead.
“The word you’re looking for is Jin’xasyi[9] Mag’rrus.” This came from the Arroxath head.
Jyevodirr suddenly fumbled like a drunk juggler. The Arroxath head’s helpful interjection had thrown him off balance. “Yes. That. The Jin’xa…. Jin’xasi…. oh sorry. Yeah. Jin’xaaassyii Mag’rrus.”
This time, the laughter was a little more open.
Jyevodirr felt poisoned by the embarrassment. He would need to get at least a little more educated before taking on the Kraturreni Om'na.
Indeed – for imagine the greatest warrior of the empire. Imagine he was delivering a speech to his soldiers. And then…... he fumbles. His speech collapses. Then, men and women avert their eyes as they barely contain their laughter. An awkward string of babbles ends up in a shameful silence. What kind of a pathetic Kraturr would that be?Why, that would be Jyevodirr the uneducated, of course! The man with a drunkard’s tongue and marbles for brain!
“Well….” The young man cleared his throat in a desperate attempt to get rid of his embarrassment. “I hope we can soon produce results. When we do, I hope you will help us out.”
There was a spell of silence after that. Jyevodirr would have expired from embarrassment had he not caught the look at the Arroxath head’s eyes. The echoes of a faint smile haunting her stoic mask left him with a sense of nostalgia instead.
There was a very faint breeze, and he almost felt this was no more than a relaxing little chat back at his village. The breeze brushed past him and played with the older woman’s dark hair. Standing tall against the bright azure sky, some strands of her hair blowing gently in front of her face, she reminded Jyevodirr of his mother. She was tall, his mother was short; she was powerful, his mother was gentle. But the sudden softness in her red eyes were so similar, he couldn’t help being reminded of his own mother.
“So that is the extent of what you want to tell me,” she declared softly.
Jyevodirr nodded. For a moment, he could hear his own heartbeat.
“Then I shall hold you to your word, young man. Make sure Rraos grows up to be more than a mere head of the Arroxatha. Make sure all of us can be proud of him.”
Emotions silently zapped through the circle of people. Unspoken conclusions were reached. It happened too subtly for Jyevodirr to understand fully. All he was left with was the feeling that something, which he perhaps had only the faintest ideas of, had come to an end here.
The moment passed as fast as it had arrived. The Arroxath matriarch gestured with her hand held up high. A few moments after that, an elderly worker arrived within the ring of people with a briefcase.
That was surprising to Jyevodirr. How did the man know that he was being called and no one else? And how did he know what the family head even wanted? Regardless of the apparent vagueness, everything was seemingly perfect, as Rrianxi soon sent the man back with the briefcase and a satisfied look. What remained behind, grasped within her palm, was a glassy black card.
“Here.” She handed the card over to Jyevodirr. “A sign of my trust. Every time I hear of your exploits, I will provide you with finances. There will be other stipulations for our support, of course, but we shall get to that later. We are joining hands with you for the long run, after all.”
Before Jyevodirr could thank her for the patronage, Rrianxi narrowed her eyes a little and spoke again. “You said you came for a discussion, correct? Since you had so little to say, let me ask you a question instead.”
Surprise and curiosity flitted across jyevodirr’s brows. “Certainly, Kinz’rra.”
“That other boy with you. What is his role in your vision?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just answer the question, boy.”
“I was hoping to make him my advisor. Or perhaps the second in the army.”
Silence made its appearance again. It crawled through the youth’s veins uncomfortably.
“Why do you ask?” He repeated, feelings of defensiveness stirring within his heart.
But the silence was not broken easily; even the wind had decided to quieten up. The discomfort wormed deeper within Jyevodirr. It pricked his skin from within, made it hard to even remain still.
Only when he was about to pester the Arroxath head again did she decide to finally let silence shatter.
“Jyevodirr,” she said, “This will not do. The first idea is a pipe dream. The second is feasible, though not very probable. You should decide on a single path and iron it out. You cannot be this indecisive. My son's fate rests within your hands now. Be mindful of that. This I demand as a mother. But even as your first financial backer, I would demand the same of you. More people would be depending on you in due time. You need to be responsible. To be the strongest, you needed a stronger spine and a stronger mind. Wishful thoughts will not get you anywhere. Remember that well.”
Jyevodirr felt a little miffed. There were words here and there that flew past his head, but he had gotten the gist of her advice. He didn’t know if he agreed completely, though. Did being the strongest mean there was no freedom? No space for uncertainty? How could he decide what a sapling as a full-grown tree should look like?
But he couldn’t argue either. Her words were truths from older generations. Just as the tree couldn’t be foretold at being a sapling, he, as a young man, couldn’t tell what an experienced adult could. They would know the existing world better.
“How many days will you boys be staying in the city?” Rrianxi continued her questions relentlessly.
Jyevodirr found himself fidgeting. “Maybe till the end of this month. Why?”
“Then go with Rraos, roam the Moyegan. Tell him to arrange something. He needs to have a look at the business he had only seen through the veil of papers. He needs it to be a fine Jin’xasyi Mag’rrus.”
That he could agree with.
“After your travels are done, come visit us again. Your friend especially needs it. We shall help you all grow stronger to the best of our ability.”
The unexpected gift nearly made him cheer, place and standing be damned. The heat awoke within him mildly again.
“Thank you so much for your kindness, Kinz'rra Rrianxi. I shall never forget this!” His voice this time was much louder.
Rrianxi’s lips smiled; her eyes did not. “Of course. Repayment will be required once you have made yourselves worthwhile.”
Then, she looked at the boy for the first time without calculation or judgement.
The corner of her eyes crinkled. “But that you can worry about in the future. Right now, just be off. Those two are likely worried sick and in need of you. And do get to know my boy. Have fun together.” Her eyes suddenly twinkled. “But don’t dirty up our estate again. If you boys make a mess here, you will all get a proper thrashing this time!”
Jyevodirr found himself easing up. He nodded to Rrianxi with his fist on his chest, the usual courtesy offered to someone of superior standing. The woman only nodded back, as was fitting considering her standing. With the formalities out of the way, she turned back towards what Jyevodirr was now sure was her office. The circle of eight people around him too slowly dispersed as she left. None greeted him, though their calculative looks did linger.
He finally had the luxury to relax completely. So, his returning gait slow, easy. The guards had by now all cleared up. He went unbothered, other than grim looks and wary mutterings that followed him.
Down the stairs he walked. Then, past the many statues lining the sandstone slabbed central avenue. Past that, he walked out through the ornate metal gates, standing at the humongous lane leading back to the highway. In the distance, the Xap’yu river glittered like a polished blade. The sky was blue. The air was hot.
Jyevodirr took a deep breath. His deed was done.
He wistfully wondered who all those statues in the avenue depicted. He marvelled at the memory of wealth right behind him. Then, he let himself loose for the last time in the day, felt raw power and heat flood up his whole being. He coiled his muscles for a dash, then vanished from the spot with a loud rumble. The river in the distance turned into a blur of lights, and the world zipped back and away from him.
He wondered why the sky looked blue, why fresh leaves looked green.
By the banks of Xap’yu, he had taken his first steps towards his dreams. He did not know many things now, but he would learn. Soon.
[1] Pronounced as ‘zaxɘçilava ziɢɵʝeθ’. Crudely translated to Jewel Family. In detail – Zaxa (pronounced: zaxa) refers to a kind of semi-arid region as explained before; syilava (pronounced: çilava) is the plural form of jewel; zigga (pronounced: ziɢa) refers to a material that has been refined to a better, stronger form; ayeth (pronounced: aʝeθ) is a family.
[2] Pronounced as ‘kɽatureni ɵmɘna’. Translates to ‘The Emperor’s Path/Trial.’ In detail – the word ‘om’na’ refers to a road that is very gruelling, often also used to mean a challenge.
[3] Pronounced as ‘maʝune’.
[4] Pronounced as ‘lɵqeɾɵn’.
[5] Plural of loqerron
[6] Pronounced as ‘kinzɘra’. This is an honorific for a woman of equally high or higher 'standing'.
[7] Pronounced as ‘vɘraʝeθ’.
[8] Pronounced as ‘qaɢa’. It means fallen, or traitorous.
[9] Pronounced as ‘zinɘxaçi’.