Tale of Four

Darkness. A darkness so deep that light recoiled from it. "Da shar la kotari. De shar la etti." Low hums echoed through the darkness; men and women crouched, prostrating themselves towards a figure in flowing white robes, hands outstretched, the sole light of the world of darkness upon them. "Da shar li kotary. De shar li etti." The words grew louder, louder as the figure in white robes tilted their head back, their robes flying faster, despite the lack of wind.

"DA SHAR LI KOTARY! DE SHAR LI ETTI!" A drum of flesh hitting flesh echoed with the shout as men bellowed out in fervent worship. Behind them, the sound of a woman crying echoed behind it, cries that were a mixture of longing, pain and desperation. The sound of flesh colliding with flesh grew more intense as the person in white slowly moved their arms, bringing their palms close to one another.

"DA SHAR LI KOTARY! DE SHAR LI ETTI!"

"DA SHAR LI KOTARY! DE SHAR LI ETTI!"

"DA SHAR LI KOTARY! DE SHAR LI ETTI!"

The chant speed increased. Becoming more intense, more unforgiving. It left no room for dissidence nor acceptance, it being the only truth for those crying it. Thunderous sound mixed with the smell of blood as the people slapped their own bodies like drums, bruised and cut under the ferocity, uncaring about their own well-being. The cries of women sounded more horrifying as they lowered their heads to the ground, placing their noses onto the floor, heralding the arrival of whatever the men chanted for with fear reserved only for God.

The person in white finally placed their hands together, and with it, silence followed, an end to the chants, drums and screams. Pulling their hand apart, the being hidden behind the white collapsed to their knees and stared up at the sky, holding their hands out as if they had received a gift from heaven. Behind the white veil over their face, their mouth was wide open, filled with ecstasy.

"Ka hish." Their voice distorted, harmonising with itself, both male and female, it spoke with delight, "Ka qwen. Te miju cas shar yetsu, te ethul o shar stel." Lowering their hands, they dragged them over their face, digging into it as if trying to tear their skin off, yet unable to pull off the flowing white veil. "Ka ethul jiel. Shar Latish ettieal, kal hish eik ecole."

Slowly rising to their feet, the white-robed figures looked out at the worshipers and stared, breathing heavily, almost panting, their breaths creating a beat, their chests bouncing up and down. From around the people copied, slapping their skin once more.

"Latish co, temor. Latish co, ettiel." The men started singing once again, with even deeper worship, their words filled with intolerance for the world and its falsehoods. From around the woman once again began to lower their bodies, prostrating, with quiet moans, getting louder as the chants did so, until they once again cried out, the sound of flesh as a drum, the ever-present backdrop.

The white-robed figure continued to breathe deeply, basking in the chants that sounded like a war cry, in a trance.

.

.

.

.

Isis sat up and rubbed the back of her head, staring at Seth, who happily chatted with the merchant, who slowly got sick of him. Leaning on one hand, she stared at the carriages that followed behind and couldn’t help but be bored. For the first two days, the journey had been enjoyable, a fresh experience outside of Veston, but then it became the part of her life she hated most. The travel from one place to another without anything to see. There was only so much she could write about seeing the trees or grass plains, and part of her dreamt that soemthing would come and end the boredom she felt.

Seth turned around and saw Isis awaken. Leaving, the merchant climbed back over to her and laughed, "That fat bastard is quite interesting." Taking a seat next to her, Seth fiddled with his bag, pulling out a book soon after. "Shall we continue our lessons?"

"How much longer until we arrive?" Ignoring him, Seth closed his eyes in thought.

"We’ve been on the road for four days now, and luckily, that guy wishes to go quickly. Four more, perhaps," Shaking his head, he recounted, "Five, we will be stopping at a city on the way, Cras." Sighing, Seth leaned his hands, his smile dropping. "Once we do, we’ll officially be on the slavers’ road."

"You mentioned it before? I can take a guess, but what is it?"

"The road that connects all the slave cities. Danmor isn’t the only place that has it; it’s only the biggest. You have Malas, Danmor, Cras and Rivent. Those three at least have something about them more than slavery, whereas Danmor is slavery." Isis nodded and stared at Seth.

"What is our route to Verat? I’m trusting you, but now that I think about it, I have been a bit too trusting of your judgment. I mean, what is stopping you from selling me when we arrive?" Saying with a playful smile, Seth raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"You caught me." Grabbing his forehead, he leaned back in an exaggerated manner and groaned. Dropping the act, he took a deep breath. "However, you were quite stupid, I won’t lie. A woman travelling the world alone, with a priceless artefact, saying she wishes to go to Danmor." Making sure to say it quietly so no one overheard, Seth seriously looked into her eyes, "The world isn’t kind, Isis. You’re just lucky you met such a good man like me."

"Well, thank you." Seth smiled and relaxed, his easy-going attitude returning.

"I’m not going to fault you for what you do, gosh, all the Gods know I have done many more stupid things in my life. You know, I sold myself as a slave at one point." Before Isis could ask about it, he carried on, "Anyway, do what you want, have fun, or die doing it, but make sure you carry soemthing to protect yourself. A title, a weapon, or a husband." Saying the last one, he leaned closer in a joking manner, pitching himself. Pushing him back, Isis smiled.

"If I’m honest, I was still thinking of this place like Veston. I have enough contacts and more than enough favours to cash in if I need help, that I kind of forgot it doesn’t matter over here." Playfully hitting her head, she smiled, "But you’re right, I need soemthing."

"Well, for a title over here, the easiest one to get that will make people not touch you is a lordship in the Farsagon Empire, but when I say easy, it still requires you to have the wealth of a noble. But it holds many merits, such as the protection of the Empire."

"Do you hold one?" Seth smiled and shook his head.

"If I gave up one of my titles, I could." Isis waited for him to say, but Seth stayed silent, staring ahead, pretending not to notice her gaze. Sighing, she gave up.

"Do you have a weapon I can have? Or can you make me one?" Grabbing her satchel, she smiled, "I promise to pay you for it."

"I mean, I can, but not now. I need time, materials and such things to make one. It’s very long." Sighing, he lifted his hand and rubbed his ring finger, "If only there were a bachelor who is both kind-hearted and brilliant, you could marry him to solve this issue." Rolling her eyes, Isis leaned back.

"You never answered my first question." With a smile, Seth reached into the side pocket of his large backpack and pulled out a scroll. Opening it, he revealed a detailed map of Oros.

"Cras then Danmor, then Malas. From Malas, we will go to the Magath, the capital of the Old Kingdom." Tracing his finger up, he reached another location, "Next would be Darcho, the only place within the Green Sea, finally providing a path north to Verat." Nodding to herself, Isis stared at the map in wonder, seeing all the places. Staring, she saw at the far west a name that seemed similar.

"Luar. Is that where your teacher is from?" Seth nodded and closed the map before she could remember more.

"Yeah, a strange place. I can see why he didn’t feel at home there after returning." Staring at Seth, Isis fell into thought. He was obviously old, his greying hair and cloudy eye that was nearly blind enough proof, but his tales and the amount he had travelled made her wonder. Oros was massive, much larger than Veston, yet the map showed he knew it well. She also could tell his name was like her own, one from the southern continent she had never seen, which meant he had likely been there, unless his circumstances were like her own.

All of it formulated in one question. "How old are you?" Seth stared at Isis and playfully smirked.

"Guess."