The Elders

[Tussa]

It seemed like they had been walking for hours. Mostly in silence, as the female shade didn't say much. Not that she ever did, and when she did speak, it mostly consisted of an annoyed bark or derogatory comment about the people on Rubi-Ka, the ones she referred to as 'Dusters'. Today, though, she seemed more introverted than usual.

The two women walked briskly, for the most part in a quick, impatient trot, although slower across the rolling hills of Elysium. They had taken a couple of short breaks to catch their breath or to wait for a herd of rafters to cross their path. Oddly enough the shade didn't jump to every chance of cutting down some misfortunate creature, something she would normally have done without much thought, as far as the doctor knew.

Walking in her own thoughts, the opifex almost bumped into the taller solitus when she stopped. Without turning around to check where the other woman was, the shade pointed ahead to a hill formation that looked oddly much like a W about two miles ahead. The windy landscape changed shape from long, rolling moors to more undulating ground, culminating in two slight canyons stretching into a hill that looked to grow steeply up from the otherwise flat ground.

'That is the entrance to Wrap, where my tribe lives. I will walk with you about a mile further, but then I must leave you. I'm still not permitted back.' The shade's voice took a bitter tone.

'Fitting name for the place' the opifex answered dryly. It wasn't easy hiding the slight edginess to her voice. She had no idea what she was going to, or even why she had accepted. Then again, she thought and looked at Breyd… yes, she did have an idea why. The reasons were hardly simple.

'We'll rest here for a little' proclaimed the solitus and sat down to a squat, still on guard, watching the immediate area with the eyes of a predator. Or maybe prey?

The opifex looked ahead, knowing the shade wouldn't start up any long conversation. Sandra felt grateful for that for now, so close to the place she was heading into. There was enough on her mind already and she felt a little queasy. The shade would probably only have made her feel queasier had there been a conversation concerning what was about to come.

They were sitting on the top of a round hill, looking down on a stretch of land which turned out to be the end of the lush grassland and the beginning of the dale and canyon. She could see dark patches moving slowly over the hillsides, probably silvertails or rafters grazing or maybe a pack of predator felines hunting for the first meal of the day. Far up ahead she could spot water, maybe a river inlet or maybe the far end of a small lake. It was hard to tell. There were probably groups of dryads living there. She shuddered involuntarily. Closer to the twin canyons, she saw areas of trees clinging to the ground, demanding their right to grow there.

Just as she started relaxing, Breyd jumped to her feet and simply stated that they were continuing and then started walking without waiting for her trekking partner. Sandra sighed, scrambled to her feet and hurried after her.

'Do you remember what I told you about the Elders?' the shade asked without looking over her shoulder.

'Yes - yes, I think so,' Sandra breathed out without much conviction. She suspected the dark tone went largely unnoticed by the silent companion.

'Good. You will get a lot of looks in the village itself. My tribe doesn't accept you Dusters and your presence among us, although there have been a few of you people there before you.'

As if that was any consolation.

'Oh? What happened?' she asked, hoping to keep the conversation going, to absorb any and all information she could get. Unfortunately, and quite typically, the shade didn't answer, just kept on walking.

The daylight hadn't changed much when they reached the forked land formation. Once there, the shade stopped and turned towards the opifex and looked her over. Was that nervousness in her eyes?

'This is where I leave you. You'll continue through the one on the left. Just ahead, you'll meet the Trueborn that will take you into the village. You must leave all your equipment with me, including your communication device, backpack and armor.'

'Right. All right. Well.' Sandra said, drawing a breath and looking into the curved path ahead as she geared down.

'I'll see you soon, I guess' she said and turned to walk into the cleft.

'Sandra…'

The opifex turned. It wasn't often the shade used her name, so it had to be important.

'Yes?' Sandra looked quizzically at the other woman.

'Thank you.'

And with that, she turned on her heels, jogged up to a rock close by and squatted down beneath it, looking towards the twin canyons. It was just so very much like the shade.

[Tussa]

Drawing a deep breath, the opifex started towards the path leading into what she guessed was a narrow path opening to a wider area. She hadn't even walked for five minutes before a dark figure stepped onto the path in front of her. It was a man, looking like a shade, with the characteristic tattoos etched into the skin and two sharp blades resting in sheathes on his hips. His skin was like very light milk chocolate, and his eyes looked almost black. His hair, like hers, was arranged in a set of braids, decorating his head in different lengths, but didn't look like they were in the way. He took one step towards her and leaned in, as if to inspect her closer, and then spoke the only words she'd hear him say on their way in towards the village.

'You are the Duster.'

Then, much like the female shade she had known a few months now, he turned around and started walking, without so much as checking if she was following.

'You are the Duster.' How polite. 'Hello and how are you? Would you like me to follow or show the way?' Yes, hello, fine thank you, I would positively -love- to be shown the way,' she grumbled under her breath.

Quietly and cautiously, she started following the man, walking in his tracks. It was very much like following the usual suspect, but she felt uneasier. Breyd's particular kind of silence Sandra was used to. It had a particular vibe to it.

The path serpentined for another mile before they arrived at the village. For once the shade's descriptions had been accurate: the houses, making a pattern of three circles, seemed to be built into the ground. Sandra suspected many city dwellers would not have called them worth living in. Personally she worried more about the inhabitants. Just like her guide and her usual companion, they were dressed in a manner that left little for the imagination to colour.

They also shared a certain self-assured arrogance. That wasn't left for the imagination either. A few of the shades, chiefly solitus, gave her dark looks. Others didn't even acknowledge her presence, flat out ignoring her. The younger ones seemed more curious, following her in an eerie silence as she and her guide moved toward the centre of the circles. Sandra worked hard to keep her smile alive. She wasn't afraid for her life, but a part of her seemed to think she should have.

In the centre of the innermost circle of houses was a small hill, into which an entrance had been dug. Sandra sighed to herself as her guide and small crowd she seemed to have gathered stopped with her at the mouth of the den. Another shade stood there, practically looming over her once she stopped. This one's head was shaved - and very scarred. After giving an almost exact copy of her guide's first behaviour, he snorted. 'They'll receive you once you're in a proper state of dress.'

Sandra's index finger twitched nervously. It was the only sign of abashment she allowed herself. The village was in several states of dress, or undress, indeed. Nodding and pretending there was nobody around, the opifex rid herself of her clothes but took care to fold the bundle properly. The man at the entrance held out his hands, so the rainbow-haired opifex simply handed it to him and looked around at the crowd once. They seemed to pay as little attention to her lack of clothes as she had been let understand. It seemed to be her colorful hair they were staring at instead, she noted amusedly.

Having mumbled her prayers in her mind, she ducked into the entrance. Torches and some manner of light crystals lit the way into the heart of the hill. Sandra would have loved to have more time to examine the woven rugs on the walls, but she soon reached the end of the tunnel and the elders.

From the first second she found herself with the feeling this was going to be a long day. The first of the four she paid attention to, the opifex woman she assumed by the tribal tattoos to be the 'First Wielder' according to what Breyd had told her about them, seemed to have a lot of sharp little friends for Sandra to meet. She had a lot of the same feral energy floating around her as Breyd, but the maliciousness was apparent in her being separated the two effectively. The only man of the group, just as crisscrossed with scars as the opifex was with tattoos and even missing an ear, left her with similar su****ions. He looked like his part, that of the 'Warfarer's' - his build, the scars, even the way he sized her up.

But she didn't even think of telling them she was more scared of the last two: the older solitus woman, 'Eldest', whom Sandra could see was paying attention to her body language. Had there been a reason to lie about anything, Sandra -knew- she would have been in trouble with this woman, especially with how badly she sometimes lied. And the last... Sandra couldn't stop a smile. Perhaps she was looking into a mirror of some sort. 'Eir', as she had been called by the shade, had a similar background - and apparently a partial similarity on the surface, too...

[Tussa]

The four older tribe's members sat in the den, surrounded by light crystals and warming torches. None of them knew what to expect. Certainly, there had been Dusters there before, particularly right after the gates opened, and sure… there had been other Trueborn in their tribe whom had worked side by side with these people. One, a young opifex girl, had even renounced them a year back and left to live on the red planet. It had been a sore subject for the whole tribe. It was no wonder they had distaste for the people who infested their lands.

'Should just kick her out, Sceylar!' said the man whose face was drawn in scars gruffly. The woman next to him gave him a strict look and spoke in a firm but warm voice. 'Breyd is not Tayan. Don't judge one by the other's actions, Uskarian. It's not certain she will give up her status as Trueborn. Let's hear out this Duster and tell her what we want.'

The man growled something and crossed his legs in front of him just as the light from the entrance was blocked momentarily by an approaching figure. It was time.

As the slightly round opifex entered the enlarged den, they all looked at her in silence. They could see her look between them like someone measuring her opponents. The oldest of them, the woman on the far right of their little line, leaned forward and lifted a hand, nanobots flying around it and lighting up the immediate area. She squinted at her for a few very long moments, and then motioned to the cushion opposite the hearth from them. None of them had said anything yet, but their body language was clear.

Uskarian, the only male in the small group, looked at the opifex as if she was rotten fruit or spoiled meat – with disgust and unyielding rejection. He had been open about what he felt about this meeting. He didn't like it, he didn't want it and he certainly did not find it amusing. To his right sat Sceylar, his life mate, the gentlest looking of the four. Her eyes didn't give much away as she studied the now sitting opifex woman across from her, but unlike the man she wasn't openly hostile, more like gently interested. Next to her sat the only opifex of the four, Lleylani. She was a Wielder, like Breyd was supposed to become, and measured the stranger to a scrutinizing detail. If this was indeed the person responsible for the young shade's failure in training, she wanted to know. A certain aura lay around her that gave her a look of being used to getting what she wanted. Finally, to the far right sat the oldest of the four, Khay. There was no telling how old she was. She had this weathered look the tribe's Travellers usually got in the late of their lives. Her eyes, though, could cut through stone to find answers. It was her who spoke first.

'You are wondering why you've been asked to come here,' she said slowly, making sure every word reached the stranger. 'We know that you have made bonds with one of ours, a Trueborn. We have called you to find out what stops Breyd in her training as a future Wielder for this tribe, and if you and your world is causing her unsatisfactory progress. If we find you are too much of a distraction, she must sever all bonds with you and your world.'

She paused, watching the opifex, who despite herself sat awkwardly. She smiled. The stranger was obviously not used to sitting this bare in the company of others. A thought of pity fell on these people whose social lives were so restricted. Furthermore, her hair was an absolute disaster, coloured like the rainbow, partially braided and partially falling limply from the skull, which was partially shaved. She glanced sideways on her fellow Trueborn, seeing various degree of acceptance or rejection in their faces, before turning back to the stranger.

'Has Breyd given you our names?' she asked. She knew the answer already, but she wanted to see the reaction. She wasn't disappointed. The opifex looked at her with a sincere look in her eyes, shaking her head so those dreadful braids danced around her ear. 'No, madame. Experience and she herself taught me that would not be in accordance to proper ways.'

'Good. Then I can give you it myself. I am Khay of the Wrap tribe, Eldest of the Elders.'

[Tussa]

Avoiding the shocked and somewhat angered stares from her peers, the old woman kept her eyes locked on Sandra. She was surprised too, as the widening of red eyes clearly told. The opifex smiled weakly at first. 'I see, Eldest.' She hesitated for a moment. 'I am Sandra. Medic.'

'Enough!' roared the male among the four. 'We're not here to exchange sympathies!' He looked like he was about to burst, but calmed down when the woman Sandra only knew as Eir put a hand on his knee and whispered something to him. He bowed his head and nodded stiffly. For the first time, the opifex opposite Sandra spoke. Her voice was clean, if one could call it that. Not friendly, more investigative. The tone of voice reminded her very much of Breyd's, the same, short gruffness.

'You will explain to us how the Trueborn met you and why you begun fighting together. Then, you will tell us what she has learned about your dusty little world.'

Sandra noted the other opifex' tone with a mental sigh. She was slightly shaken by the sudden outburst and didn't bother to conceal all of the edge from her tone when she spoke.

'Quite simply. I was taking my first steps in Elysium when she turned up. Apparently she noted my capabilities. I noted hers: it seemed purely beneficial for us both to co-operate. Furthermore, it was a working combination. I was not very surprised to hear from her again - and it is she who calls me to work.'

Sandra licked her lips and eyed the elders as she let the words sink in. Then she continued, guessing they would not be best pleased should they have to remind her of the second request. 'As to what she has learned... well, she does not care much for it. She knows the clans and Omni-Tek fight over notum like petty children. I have told her perhaps ten sentences of reasons as to where -that- fight started. I do not know how much more she knows beyond a basic grasp on things.'

The other opifex nodded slightly. Not so much as to acknowledge what Sandra had just told them, but more as if to say "we'll continue". Again, a new question - the tone in her voice slightly more edgy.

'Do you know her future, what she is training for?'

Sandra tugged on a braid, wondering if her answer annoyed the First Wielder because of -how- she had acted or because it was only the truth. She knew better than to lie at this stage. 'I know she is training to become a Wielder,' Sandra said simply. 'What it all entails, I do not know: I have drawn my conclusions from my experiences with her and left it at that.'

'I will explain to you what a Wielder does. You Dusters are ignorant to the ways of the people here in the Shadow's lands, and can't be expected to know. She is training to be one of the Trueborn that will protect the tribe, wielding blades almost as an extended part of her body. Our children, women and elder's security depend on our Wielders. This is her purpose, her use.' The tattooed woman shifted on her cushion, stretching an arm behind her neck to tug forward an impressive length of hair, blueish black with long, grey streaks in it.

'She has failed to follow the training schedule, and we think that is due to losing concentration of what she is really supposed to do. She has admitted spending time in your world rather than here, and even to fighting these green creatures that poison your world.'

Sandra nodded. She nurtured a private opinion as to what the incidents with the aliens had led to but let it sleep: she wasn't here to tell them what was included in their training and what wasn't. A tiny, subconscious part of her giggled at how automatically she ignored the shade's arrogance. Of course she was ignorant, for goodness sakes, she wasn't any more omniscient than the First Wielder.

She shifted her position and smiled awkwardly allowed herself another mental sigh. 'I am yours to question.'

The Warfarer grunted and looked fiercely at Sandra. Not that his look mattered much. Sandra imagined that was the way he looked at anyone, even his children, if he had any. Maybe in particular his children.

'Or you could leave her in peace and let her training continue without any more of this Duster nonsense!' he barked.

The others remained silent and it was his voice that spoke again.

'But if you will not, then you will remind her of where she comes from. Make her remind herself who she is and who she is not. In your power as Medic, you will have her ear.'

Sandra rubbed her cheekbones and nodded. It wasn't an impossible request. In fact, she owed it to Breyd after a fashion, no matter how often the shade had given her the cold shoulder. The problem was that she didn't -really- need to be reminded. This thought caused her to frown slightly. 'I will. Of course. I do not -know- what her training is. Defying the hecklers just between the two us does not count I would assume.'

The oldest of the four, the woman called Khay, spoke again. Her voice was neutral and gave Sandra an eerie feeling of being measured once more.

'We have accepted that our lands will never again be free for us, and while some struggle more with that idea than others, it is important that we keep our tribe true to our ways. What the young Wielder needs is to remember what she is, a predator. You have seen her fight. That is what she is.'

The First Wielder took the word. 'We have told her that she may take to your world, if –and only if- she finds challenges there. We want you to bring her with you to challenges she might not be ready for, or to tests of patience, of resolve and of strength…to make her draw on her full potential. If she will not, she cannot be part of this tribe anymore.'

For the first time, the woman whom Breyd had said led this group spoke. Her voice was softer than Sandra had thought.

'Do you understand what we ask you, Medic?'

[Tussa]

Yes. She most definitely did. Sandra smiled. This had the possibility of deepening the symbiosis she had with the shade. The doctor wondered if the shade had ever noticed this. 'I do. You are asking me as her trustee to guide her to her limits and grow to them. However much it will cost in blood, sweet and tears - to either of us. Am I correct?'

It was such an empowering thought. She knew the elders probably didn't care for her too much. Her part in it, yes. They seemed so practical about things. Was she only a tool to them? The thought bothered her for a moment, and then no more. They thought about what was best for Breyd from their and Breyd's point of view. Sandra shook her head slightly at her thoughts. She did, too, even as an eternal outsider.

The other woman leaned forward, studying Sandra closer. Her eyes squinted a little, framed by soft wrinkles, reminding the doctor that these four were old people, who undoubtedly had old people's ailments. The woman continued to look at the opifex a few seconds, then gave the slightest of nods.

'Yes. That is right.'

As she sat back, she nodded towards the man, who in turn got to his feet in a move much swifter and more elegant than most people his age. His body was indeed drawn with scars from a long life of fighting the creatures and people in these savage lands. One especially bad one was what looked like a claw mark across his side and down his hip. Deep scars drawing trenches in the skin. He walked past Sandra without so much as glancing at her, but his whole presence nearly screamed dislike. Moments after, the tattooed opifex stood up. She was much taller than Sandra would've thought, but moved with the grace of the eternal hunter. She too walked past her without saying anything.

Left were the two women. The oldest of them, the only one who had introduced herself with a name, stood up, also much easier than expected. Again, she lifted her hands and dispatched a swarm of glowing nanobots in the immediate area around them to light up the den. It seemed so bizarre, this intense contrast between a traditional life and today's technology.

As soon as she was up, the last one stood. She let the older woman pass Sandra and then followed in her track. Unlike the others, her eyes were glued on the seated opifex the whole time. It felt a bit disconcerting, all of them leaving like this and Sandra being left to her own wits. What was going to happen now? Did they expect something else from her? What was she supposed to do?

As she passed her, the woman's head turned forward and she stopped. The light from the oldest woman's programs was diminishing and again the den was filled with the warm glow from the torches and light crystals.

'We expect much of her, but we don't decide her future. We are worried she will forget this place and her life here. Time will be her only judge. Although you are not Trueborn, you may understand the expectations. Perhaps my mate's more than any other's. He is her father's father.'

Sandra swallowed. She had always held the opinion that Breyd was high in the hierarchy somehow, but this was fast becoming uncomfortable. The woman walked off peacefully while the opifex thought the implications through one by one, allowing herself a long sigh of relief only once she was certain it would not be heard. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. 'Oh, I do feel like some long lost explorer now.' Smiling weakly to herself, Sandra stood up, examined the den and retraced her path back to the entrance.

For whatever reason, it seemed the crowd outside had grown with children and lessened with adults. Sandra didn't appreciate the attention she was getting, even if she was certain that there would never be any physical contact unless she struck out at any of the villagers. The looks at her hair confused her still: she subconsciously expected them to pay more attention to her nudity.

That detail fixed itself easily. The scarred shade that guarded the entrance shot one critical glare at her and gave her the bundled clothes. Her guide was nowhere to be found. 'Go to the canyon entrance,' the guard rumbled, sullenly looking away from her.

The slightly round Opifex pursed her lips in a petulant pout and waked off without bothering to pull her coat on. This was as defiant as Sandra dared to be; halfway to the canyon entrance she realized this probably did not really come across as shocking to the shades, who themselves preferred very little clothing. She sneaked a glance over her shoulder. Yes, the children still paid attention to her. They looked like sweet little creatures, like sabretooth panther kittens - and like the kittens, they would one day grow to be ferocious.

Thinking on that, Sandra swallowed and walked on, defiantly stomping past a guide, who had obviously expected to inform the little doctor of how they would take things from now on. Putting on her brightest smile, Sandra turned after seven steps. 'Will you show the way again, please?'

[Tussa]

The trip back outside the canyon went by quickly and without neither Sandra nor her escort saying a word, which was to be expected. Uneventful as the trip back out was, she hardly noticed that the shade sidled out of view when they approached the opening towards the more open fields. She didn't bother saying anything to him but had enough presence of mind to pull the coat around her otherwise unprotected body.

She looked up towards the rock where Breyd had sat down. Not surprising, she hadn't moved at all. Sandra couldn't help think about the shade's joints and how less-than-satisfactory it was for them that she sat immobile for....how long had it been? Sandra made to check the time, but forgot that all her equipment was with Breyd.

Making it all the way up to the rock, she avoided the stare her companion gave her. She didn't know if she was ready to talk about what happened in the tribe just yet and she knew Breyd wouldn't ask her directly. At least not yet. Instead, she sat down and started to gear up, shutting armor clasps, adjusting bootstraps and enabling her NCU and bio-systems. She sat down and took a deep breath.

For minutes, they sat like that. The small opifex and the large solitus. The healer and the killer, two women so very different and yet so very alike. One of them feral, unrelenting and demanding, the other evasive, soft and warm like a summer breeze.

Sitting next to each other, looking ahead, minutes passed. They watched two Beit bulls fight it out against each other, they saw redeemed scouts along the roads and how the light of the day changed. Finally, much to Sandra's satisfaction, Breyd asked.

'How did it go?'

'We have interesting times ahead of us, you and I.'

Sandra smiled and rose to her feet, urging Breyd to do the same. She, at least, had had enough of Wrap. The shade she had once teasingly called Mercy stood up too and they started moving away from the canyon. What remained of the day's light shone in their faces, the shade trotting quickly in front and the doctor only a heartbeat behind her.



[The end. For now]