Chapter 3: By the Banks of a Beginning

“This is Rraos Arroxath?!” R’vag’s voice was filled with incredulity.

This was an unbelievable moment. Jyevodirr and him, two country boys with dreams too big for their own head, were running wild at an oversized house of one of the four Zax’syilava Ziggoyeth. Again – not a house of just any random people, but of a Jewel Family! A powerhouse of the empire; one of the zaxa’s strongest four!
But even more unbelievably, all of this was for a sheltered swindler, who cracked when shaken away from power. Who cried and folded when presented with his life’s first true challenge.
What the fuck was Jyevodirr thinking?

“Go easy on him, R’vag,” His friend responded with a calm ease. He 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.”

Jyevodirr honestly understood his friend’s concerns. But his childhood friend, who could not understand the many forms of strength, did not see the solutions to those.
The young Arroxath did possess strength. A different kind, for sure, but strength was strength, whatever be its form. He could 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 grow.

“Fine,” His partner assented, though his expression was reluctant. “I'll take care of his dressed-up arse. Let's finish things here.”

“No. You go ahead with him. I have things I need to do here.”

R’vag eyes bulged, ears nearly fell off in surprise.
He really had trouble understanding his friend sometimes. They got the person they came for. What more did the idiot want?
But there wasn’t anything poor R’vag could do. He couldn’t easily drag his moronic friend away. He certainly couldn’t do so while also keeping this wild dogs’ den at bay. And he absolutely, undoubtedly, couldn’t do both while keeping the dead-weight from being torn apart.
Better to trust his friend than try all those impossible things at once. Jyevodirr was strong, and that had to be enough.

“Just be sure to get back.” R’vag demanded his friend. “I’m not sure I could break you out of here alone.”

Jyevodirr laughed carelessly.

“Don't worry, I won't be long.”

At last, Rraos joined the conversation. “How do you madmen intend to leave? How did you even get here?”

He had intended the question for both, but Jyevodirr had already left before Rraos uttered the first word. R’vag grinned deviously.

“O strong Qaiz’rra, we ran all the way here, and we will run all the way back!”

Rraos stiffened. He was being mocked.
A sense of revulsion bubbled up within him, but he forced it down. His standing would almost certainly be stripped, so he was in no position to criticize his mis-treatment.
Still, Rraos was certain; he would not see eye to eye with this wild barbarian ever!

“I cannot run the way you do,” he challenged without shying away from R’vag’s gaze.

“I know, O brave Qaiz'rra!” R’vag’s voice was like cloying honey. “Up onto my back like a great toddler you’ll go, and this poor little xamos will carry you away!”

The barbarian crouched, waiting for Rraos to clamber on. He even waved his palms in invitation!

This was undoubtedly the lowest time of Rraos’ life. He would have to crawl out from this pit he had fallen into. Anyhow!
But before all of that, he had to stay alive.

“How much longer will Qaiz'rra need for this most difficult task?” R’vag’s mockingly sweet tone cracked against his 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. Like a young boy holding onto his mother's back. The shame sewed his mouth and eyes shut. Rebirth without the luxury of hiding behind an infant’s body was gruelling.

R’vag grunted with discomfort when the skinny Arroxath brat clamped onto him. He half-wondered if he should look for another money-person once he was back within Orron’s walls. But if the rich were all like this, how did anyone ever manage to challenge the Kraturreni Om’na? It was a question for later.

With each lost within their own thoughts, the misfitting pair hastily fired through the damaged central avenue to the welcoming vastness outside the estate.

All this time, Jyevodirr had been making sure no one got too close to the pair.
From the moment he had disengaged from the conversation, he had spent his time in a flurry of motion. He had to be aware of his friends’, his enemies’, as well his own relative positions. He also had been adjusting his strength for each opponent he faced. There was no time for anything else.

But now that the pair had finally made their escape, Jyevodirr exhaled and momentarily relaxed. He looked around.
The courtyard was mangled here and there, but the damage was much less than he expected. Had a mayyune or two been hired to reinforce the place during construction? He didn't know; he had never been around luxury and 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 strange 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 the man’s blades and threads was meant to kill. The threads were too thin to bind. The blades could be led only by their cruellest edges. The webs threatened to slice him up, restricted his movements.
Beyond this, there was another bloodthirsty layer of complexity the webs helped impose. 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 move, not a motion, nor an intention, was betrayed from the depths of his cloak.

The man had to be a loqerron. Jyevodirr was sure, no one else who could make killing look like an art.
The movements of his 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. It couldn’t just be talent. The man had to have trained all his life for this. And who would train for death and killing with such rigor but the loqerra?

These thoughts had to be dispelled when the cage of strings and blades closed in a little too far for comfort. Close and narrow had to be their preferred range for killing.

“Be torn.”

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.
The loqerron was strong, but so was Jyevodirr.

The young man did not immediately chase after the killer. He wanted to think and marvel a little first. This was a 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 delighted in them. Who wouldn’t? Loqerra were a mysterious 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. His body burnt with the heat of flames. His mind drunk the ecstasy of power.
So, he took a deep breath, forcing his strength down.

His new assailant was a xamos. One he had downed earlier.

Jyevodirr had never fought any xamos before today. But now that he did, he could not help but feel that usual guards were better to deal with. Guards had at least the slightest bit of hesitation in their movements. The xamosa had none of that. They were certain, and they moved to kill. Their attacks set his heartbeat racing and his body on fire. They flooded him with a dangerous amount of power. Too much power. Power that Jyevodirr needed to get back under control.

Jyevodirr was in front of the young xamos before he was done reining himself in. He reared back his arm with a twist, getting himself back to acceptable levels of strength, then punched. In the time he had taken, another xamos also had enough time to move in and block the hit. The attack did send him flying back, but the older man had managed to force Jyevodirr into a disadvantageous timing.

The young xamos, who had not been ready for the assault yet, managed to recover and thrust his spear at Jyevodirr.
This time, it was the countryside youth who was unprepared. He barely twisted away from the attack. From the corner of his eyes, he could already see a vicious tangle of threads and blades. He would be given neither the opportunity, nor the space to dodge.

This time he allowed himself to get a bit wilder.

“Fall.”

Jyevodirr’s tone was soft. It was 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. Not one guard surrounding the massive central platform still stood.

Only two were still standing outside. Jyevodirr and the loqerron.
For a person so in tune with death, the killer was uncharacteristically strong. Or maybe that was just how loqerra were. This man’s strength certainly was cementing the tales as truths.

Jyevodirr watched the shrouded man in fascination as he drew back his implements of murder. He 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 remain close to them at all times? That was a nightmare.

Regardless of how fascinating and novel all of this was, it was not something desirable. In other circumstances, they may have been. But not now. Not when he did not want to engage anyone any more if he could help it. He only wanted to talk now. He wanted to clear up a few words contaminating the streets. There were quite a few whispers and questions floating around in the air about Rraos.
And he needed to make a promise. That was important.

Yet, he was quite far from what was in his mind. He had been prepared for the worst, not for this.
No one was pushing him back; no one was moving back. The defenders were defending well. They were keeping him in place. He was not really threatened, but he still did not have an advantage. Other than the loqerron, all the strongest people within the estate seemed to be waiting, watching. What was he supposed to understand from this?

Blades rushed forward again. Jyevodirr dodged.
He was tiring of this strange game being played here. He did not like mind games like these. But he did not have many choices. He did not want to engage anymore, but that was not really his choice to make. This strange skirmish was perhaps just an inertia of plans and events whose origins and intentions could not be seen by him. The only choice he was afforded was to end it. To move ahead, see what awaited beyond this stalemate.

But he was not given the opportunity for that either. A woman, in her forties by her looks, walked out from the largest doorway of the mansion to his right. All the seven strongest beside the loqerron made their presence known. They had him surrounded within a heartbeat. A hush enforced itself atop the platform.

The clacks of hard, pointed stilettos on stone echoed softly. 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 scuffle was over.

This drastic change instantly made it clear to Jyevodirr who the woman in front of him was. She had to be the Arroxath head.

“My salutations, Kinz’rra,” he greeted her. “I wanted to have a talk with you.”

The woman looked at him, then at her surroundings meaningfully. 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 that he was not here for her primarily? Was that wise?

The woman continued speaking without waiting too long for his answer. “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?”

By the time she was done asking, her mirth was nowhere to be found. She had ended her questions right in front of Jyevodirr and now stood looking down on him. Her toned muscles tightened; her confident demeanour clouded with some darker emotion.

So this was 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. Before her questions could be answered, she turned to the xamos who lay in pain with broken bones. Some questions may need answers beyond words, she believed.

“Before Jyevodirr here answers, V’rrayeth, you should demand your own answers. I believe he is answerable to you first, no? He seems to bear me no ill will yet; and besides that, I find myself quite entertained by his performance. I may demand some price, but I may just as probably completely forgive him. But what about you? 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 due to a lack of capability. In such conditions, I cannot ask anything. 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, Kinz’rra Rrianxi.”

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 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, was it?
It was prudent to know what the people here considered Rraos. But then, was that matter worth pursuing? When he didn’t know the intricacies of what was going on?
He was not a mastermind. He couldn’t think out a perfect solution. For him, the simplest way to proceed now would be to skip the talk about rumours.
The revelations only sounded good in his imagination anyways!

“Kinz’rra,” Jyevodirr began carefully, “I thought I would talk to you about a lot of things. But I don’t think I should. There isn’t much I have to say that you probably 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.”

Jyevodirr took a deep breath. Then he continued. “You see, I intend to be the next Kraturr of our empire.”

Jyevodirr had expected many to laugh at this point. To his surprise, there was only a dead silence in the ring of eight.

“So, you don’t need to worry about Rraos. 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.” There were quite a few chuckles here.

“The word you’re looking for is Jin’xasyi 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.

Imagine the greatest warrior of the empire. Imagine he was delivering a speech to his warriors. And then – he fumbles. And his speech collapses. Then, men and women avert their eyes as they barely contain their laughter. An awkward string of babbles end up in a shameful silence. What kind of a pathetic Kraturr would that be?Of course, that would be Jyevodirr the great! The man with a drunkard’s tongue and marbles for brain!

“Well,” Jyevodirr 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 haunted her stoic mask.
There was a very faint breeze, and he almost felt this was no more than a relaxing little chat. 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. His mother was short where she was tall; his mother was gentle where she was powerful. But something about the sudden softness in her red eyes felt so motherlike, he couldn’t help being reminded of his own mother.

“So that is the extent of what you want to tell me.”

Jyevodirr nodded. For a moment, he could hear his own heartbeat.

“Then I shall hold you to your word. Make sure Rraos grows up to be more than a mere head of the Arroxaths. Make sure all of us can be proud of him.”

Emotions zapped through the circle of people. Unspoken conclusions were reached. It happened too fast and too subtly to catch. Something, which Jyevodirr perhaps had only the faintest ideas of, had come to an end here.
Then the moment ended.

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 that, it was apparently perfect, as Rrianxi soon sent the man back with the briefcase. 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, but we shall get to that later. We are joining hands with you for the long run, after all.”

There was a brief, thoughtful pause. Rrianxi narrowed her eyes a little, then quickly smoothed over her expression. “You said you came for a discussion, correct? Since you had so little to speak, let me ask you a question instead.”

“Certainly, Kinz’rra.”

“That other boy with you. What is his role in your vision?”

Jyevodirr felt a little surprised, a little defensive.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just answer the question, boy.”

“I was hoping to make him my advisor. Or perhaps the second in the army.”

Rrianxi was silent again. The silence crawled through his veins uncomfortably.

“Why do you ask?” He repeated.

The silence was not broken easily; even the wind had decided to quieten up. The discomfort wormed deeper within Jyevodirr.
But before it could consume him completely, and even before he could pester the Arroxath head again, she decided 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 have to demand this 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 that 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. The tree couldn’t be foretold at being a sapling – and 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.

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 was much louder than before.

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. “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 twinkled. “But don’t dirty up our estate again. If you boys make a mess here again, you all will 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 nodded back, as was fitting for her higher standing. Then she turned back towards what Jyevodirr was now sure was her office.
The circle of eight people around him slowly dispersed as she left. None greeted him, though their calculative looks did linger as they left. He finally had the luxury to relax.

He walked slowly, easily. 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. He was out through the ornate metal gate soon, standing at the humongous lane leading back to the highway. In the distance, the Xap’yu river glittered like a jewelled sword. The sky was blue. The air was hot.

He took a deep breath.
His deed was done.

He wondered who all those statues depicted. He marvelled at the memory of wealth right behind him. 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.