Oath XXVII

The demi-shamans, whether they serve as undertakers or birthmatrons, serve as vital points of union to the Great Pact. Their status must be monitored at all times, which will be achieved by having each shaman imprint on a clay tablet which is stored in the Chamber of Oaths. This is to be done the same day they join our ranks. The shaman overseeing the imprinting ritual must be ranked at the Third or higher and be learned in the rites of binding. The ritual in question is a Mirror Rebound, second rank.

If any demi-shaman is injured severely, their corresponding tablet will crack. If they die, the tablet will shatter. This allows us to quickly react, replenishing regions where the previous demi-shaman has died or is ailing, making any interruptions to the Pact brief at worst.

XXVII Addendum I

Any disruption to the Pact cannot be allowed to last more than a month. See Oath LXVIII for the rules governing the distribution of nodal villages. A journey by foot between the most remote village and the Enclave should take no longer than twenty-eight days.

Addendum scribed by Nilatani, Eighteenth Archshaman of the Enclave.

Excerpt from ‘The Oaths,’ original author unknown.

A distant howl indicated a break in the journey. Kye unfurled a rope and flung it over a branch, hauling his pack into a tree. Lae’s pack followed after, and then the two of them went up. Their motions were practiced: this was the fourth time they’d heard jawes in this region and been forced to take an impromptu break.

Kye fished a piece of hardtack out of his pack. After a few seconds of exertion, he snapped it in half, offering a piece to Lae. She accepted, gnawing on the rocklike substance in an effort to distract herself from the idea of hungry monsters prowling just beyond her sight.

Lae and her guide hadn’t stopped by any villages during their journey. There were no settlements along the route they were taking unless they wanted to spend a day hiking out of their way. Neither Kye nor Lae suggested such a course of action. Kye was used to the wilderness, and though Lae would have killed for some of the amenities civilization offered, she knew how important it was for them to reach the Enclave quickly. She could manage a little discomfort. She’d thought about warning the villages they passed by about the undead, but the Enclave could inform everyone far more quickly than the two of them could manage. They had armies of messengers… and, well, an actual army.

Kye suddenly froze, and Lae’s warning instincts flared to life. She turned her head in the direction he was looking and saw something moving. Immediately, fright seized her like a cold hand squeezing her heart. Had she been more composed, she would have realized that the movement came from along the path and that the crunching steps were caused by booted feet, not paws.

When the first person rounded the bend, Lae had a moment to process his human shape. Instead of reassuring her, this only served to increase her panic. She saw not a person, but an undead—a monster wearing a human shape, with yellow eyes and teeth that rent flesh. Apparitions of violence flashed before her eyes, and before she could compose herself, the partly-eaten biscuit flew from her hand, smacking the forehead of the leading figure, who let out a surprised grunt, stumbling backwards.

It was an impressive shot, all told.

[Skill obtained]: (Lv.0)

She nearly choked when the glowing words appeared before her. Having learned to read from her father, she was able to decipher their meaning after a confused moment, but that was the least of her worries.

“Ow… blasted—what’s this? Hardtack?” spoke the man she had pelted. “What the—where—who in the Father-forsaken land just threw a biscuit at me?”

The man—really only a teenager, just a few years older than her—rubbed his forehead with one hand while he held Lae’s discarded meal with the other, scrutinizing the surroundings for the mystery bombardier. Lae observed his headdress, noting the coloration. He was a red-feathered hunter, the same rank as Kye.

Kye called out, only a little delayed. “Ah—um, greetings, hunter!”

“You!” said the man, homing in on him. Then he saw Lae, arm outstretched in a throwing position. She’d forgotten to retract it. Sheepishly, she lowered it, glancing away as she did.

The hunter’s eyes narrowed. “A kid? What were you think—”

Someone placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, and he instantly quieted. A figure stepped forward, another hunter in full dress. But his bonnet—Lae counted the feathers he bore, and her eyes widened. He had not one or two, not even three or four, but five types of feathers. Her jaw fell slack at seeing the white and brown feathers in addition to the more ordinary red, orange and yellow. This person outranked even her father, who had only ever attained four colors. This man before her was a Branded, and a powerful one at that. What was he doing out here, away from the Enclave? Hunting monsters? Why travel with a red-feathered hunter, then?

“Greetings, hunter,” said the man to Kye. His voice was deep, calm and steady, like a mountain’s breath. He scanned the two of them with quick, perceptive eyes. “Are you and your charge heading to the Enclave? Selection season has just ended, I’m afraid. The Learned Ones are not accepting any students until next year.”

This hunter was of middling height and build, with the characteristic pale hair, even paler complexion, and dark eyes commonplace to the Children of the Mountain. He appeared younger than her father, though his exact age was impossible to pinpoint. He might have been twenty or fifty. Other than that, there was nothing particularly notable about his appearance, save for a single, thin scar that traced a line across his chin and up his jaw.

“We aren’t traveling for her schooling, sir—”

“Call me Palani,” he interjected.

“Palani, sir,” amended Kye. “We bring news, terrible news that needs to be heard by the Chief. As soon as possible.”

The man furrowed his brow, and Lae caught him taking a quick glance over his shoulder. She started upon seeing a third figure standing there, completely motionless and half-obscured by some low-lying branches. She would not have seen him if not for Palani’s look.

“This news… you wouldn’t happen to be from the Cradle, would you?” he asked.

Kye blinked. “Yes, that is where we come from.”

Palani nodded. “I thought it was unnatural… no. Nevermind. Please, would you come down and share your story with us?”

The two of them climbed down, Lae enduring the mistrustful stare of the hunter she clobbered earlier with her impromptu weapon and whose forehead now bore a faint red bruise. The group gathered around, though she noted that the third member of the strange group stayed back, having elected not to join the rest of them. He was clad in a brown robe, his features obscured by a hooded cloak. He appeared to be inspecting her. Lae recalled her secret with a sudden chill and discreetly turned, checking on the bandage she’d wrapped around her hand. It was still in place. The Brand was still hidden. She glanced at Kye, aware with sudden clarity that she was completely at his mercy. She warned him not to tell anyone about her Brand, but would he keep his word?

“Now,” said Palani, “I imagine some great hardship has befallen the two of you, otherwise this child would not have been driven to such an extreme action as pelting my apprentice with her rations.”

“…Thing coulda killed me,” mumbled the victim in question.

At least that explained why a five-colored hunter traveled with a one-color. Palani had taken on an apprentice, something many hunters did when they got older. Perhaps this man was closer to her father’s age than she’d thought? Lae bowed her head apologetically to the young man, receiving a grunt in reply. The teenager had squinty eyes and a large, hooked nose that made him look remarkably like a vulture. His gaunt appearance didn’t help much to dispel that image.

The two hunters settled in as Kye began relating his tale, though Lae found it difficult to get comfortable. Her hand itched, though she tried taking her mind off it. And was it her imagination, or were the howls getting louder?

The retelling didn’t take long, and a somber mood lay over the surroundings by the time Kye was done.

“Who could have expected…” began the red-feathered hunter, before trailing off into silence. When he looked at Lae again, he no longer appeared so bitter.

“So you are the child of Orimo,” said Palani, regarding Lae with tired eyes. “I am sorry to hear about your home, and especially your father. This news is a blow to all who knew him. It’s a blow to all of Yarang.”

He turned to Kye next. “You have performed a great service. It would not have been easy to leave your comrades and family, but you did well in heeding your Hunt-Leader’s final orders. This information you carry with you is of great import.”

Kye bit his lip, nodding.

Palani sighed. “Keon, Liko, there has been a change of plans. We will be returning with these two to the Enclave at once.”

The hooded man finally stepped forward. When he spoke, his voice was thin and raspy. “This is only to be expected. Such a tragedy… it seems taking up my post will be more difficult than first thought. Thank you for your services thus far, hunter. I shall impose on you again for the return journey.”

Palani nodded. Then, upon seeing Lae and Kye’s look, he gave a brief explanation. “This man’s name is Liko. I was tasked with escorting him to the Mountain’s Cradle to take the place of your previous undertaker. You could say that encountering you saved us much time, though little grief.”

Lae looked the man, Liko, over. Despite so many other things going on, she found herself interested in him. She had never seen the Cradle’s previous undertaker. Those who acted as arbiters to the griffons were people shrouded in secrecy, similar to the shamans of the Enclave. From what she heard, the birthmatrons and undertakers of other villages were the same. The common consensus was that these people were magical: possibly even Branded. But rumors thrived on mystery. Many other fantastical stories had circulated among the villagers of Yayu as to their former undertaker’s identity. Undertakers and birthmatrons might perform a vital role in each settlement, but they never lived among the people. This isolation, coupled with their curious job—the specifics of which no one was told—gave them an outsider-like atmosphere. Sometimes they didn’t seem entirely human.

Wait. Palani mentioned that Liko was meant to replace the Cradle’s undertaker. Why did their undertaker need replacing? Had something happened to him before the undead outbreak? She wanted to ask, but in front of all these adults, she found it difficult to speak up.

“We should depart immediately,” said Palani. “If we keep up a good pace, we can make it back in three days’ time.”

He quickly organized the new marching order. Keon the hunter, who had wrapped a bandage around his head—completely unnecessarily, thought Lae—took the lead, with Kye behind him. Then it was Lae and Liko, with Palani bringing up the rear. It seemed the Branded liked to watch over his charges from the back. He was probably giving his apprentice experience in leading. Lae glanced over her shoulder at Liko, but with his hood up, she was unable to see past the man’s chin and mouth. His jaw was clean shaven and appeared remarkably young, not at all what she expected after hearing his voice.

A howl broke through the trees, far closer than any of the others. It sounded like whatever had made the noise was only feet away. Lae, teeth working over a particularly stubborn piece of hardtack, bit her tongue at the sound. They were upon them. Blinking back tears of pain, she ran to the nearest tree, scrambling at a low-lying branch and hoisting herself up. After she’d climbed to the third branch, she spared a moment to observe the surroundings. No one had imitated her. Instead, the other three had backed up, standing behind Palani.

Kye glanced over at her, a wry smile on his lips. “Lae, it’s fine. There’s no danger.”

Though he said that, Kye’s eyes darted nervously to the hunter in front of him. Palani’s expression was unreadable, but he stood at ease, peering into the forest. Shortly afterwards, a squat, quadrupedal animal with brown fur emerged from the vegetation, followed by another two of the creatures. They were roughly the height of goats, but far thicker, particularly around their limbs. They had no neck to speak of—it seemed almost like their large heads were bolted directly to their torso. Cruel fangs jutted out from wolflike mouths, from which hung strands of drool.

Jawes. In this griffonless region, these monsters ruled the forest. Their appearance made them seem almost foolish, but underestimating the creatures was a mistake made only once. Jawes were far deadlier than normal predators, and those were already deadly enough. Orimo had been sure to drill that lesson, along with plenty others, into her head. Respect and fear.

The lead jawe took a step forward at the same time Palani did. That was all. Lae couldn’t see Palani’s face, so she couldn’t tell what he did, but in the next instant, the jawe let out a startled yelp and immediately turned tail, fleeing without delay. Its packmates followed shortly afterwards, tails between their legs. A series of high-pitched yelps gradually faded into the distance as the monsters sprinted away.

Lae heard a noise. Keon the apprentice had turned his head, clearly trying to stifle laughter. Judging by his shaking shoulders, he did a poor job of it. Kye followed suit, chuckling more modestly, though he shut up when he saw the look in Lae’s eyes. She didn’t find the situation funny.

Palani approached the tree and raised a hand, which she accepted graciously—or tried to, but she had never been helped off of anything before and realized belatedly that leaping off the tree with her full body weight probably hadn’t been the right move. Palani’s eyes widened, but he caught her, placing her down safely. At least he didn’t laugh.

Of course they hadn’t been in any danger. This man was a five-feathered. She had forgotten so quickly.

After she was down, he asked her a question.

“Have you ever seen a jawe before?”

“No,” she said, wincing at how the word came out with her sore tongue.

“In many places of the world, they are brutish monsters, having been known to stalk and kill even hunters.” As he spoke, he reorganized the line, and they began moving. “This close to the Enclave, however, they are more docile: warier of humans. If you are prepared, you can scare them away. It doesn’t even take a hunter like me to do it. Grab a branch or two, wave them around, make loud noises, and they usually run right off. Fire works well, too. But remember, this approach is only for small packs. If there are six or more of the beasts, it’s best to find high ground, as you did. And if you are much further from the Enclave… well. They are more determined out in the wild places of the world.”

“You didn’t do any of that,” noted Lae. “They were scared of you, and you didn’t even shout.”

Palani smiled. “Just a small trick they teach you when you earn your fourth feather.”

Lae was silent for a moment, considering the encounter. If it was him, it should have been easy…

“Why didn’t you kill them?”

“I’d rather not have to,” said Palani. “They are certainly monsters, but they serve a vital role in this forest by keeping the population of prey animals down. Wolves and big cats do this elsewhere in the mountains, but this far west, only monsters like jawes can survive. The Balance is a curious thing. I often find the best approach in maintaining it is no approach at all.”

“I see…”

This was just like the things her father would talk about. Hearing Palani speak reminded her of starlit nights spent sitting around the hearth at the center of Yayu, murmurs and chuckles of the villagers blending into a pleasant background buzz. Orimo would be right beside her, his voice soft yet clearly audible, relating his experiences out in the wild. If not that, it was some other story he had heard. He never edited, never lied, never exaggerated. Sometimes, others would gather. When he spoke of monsters and legendary hunters of old, it often seemed like half the village materialized around him. But she didn’t care what he spoke about. She just liked to listen. It was like she became something else when he spoke, something other than Lae the village girl. She saw herself in those woods, a bow slung across her back, reading the tracks of a monster she’d been stalking for days, valley after valley.

Lae stumbled over a root, and reality came crashing back down around her in a flood of sensation. Her legs ached, sore from days of walking. Her tongue hurt, and she just knew she would bite it again once it started to swell. Her arms were scraped red by the branches of the tree she’d climbed too hastily, and her stomach was a knot of pain from eating nothing but dense hardtack for a week.

And beyond all that, her father was dead.

He was dead.