Turn eyes to thy eldest of kin.
Fleet of foot must you be for the wee,
Springing swift into verdant green.
Listen first to those whom knowest distant,
See that all are but one.
For the long ear that stands just the tallest,
Be the short ear that sees us undone.”
- The Law of the Grey
Timu dozed peacefully beneath the shade of a large sycamore tree, his diminutive form tucked snuggly between the old tree’s roots. The long summer’s day held the heady scent of meadow flowers, a cornucopia of tiddled insects filling the air with enervated gaiety. The grass rustled gently and Timu’s ears pricked up intuitively; already two handspans in length his song-mother had cooed.
Something suddenly pounced toward Timu with a cry of triumph. He reacted with blinding speed, dodging his assailant by a feather’s length.
“Too slow, Nara” he teased, sticking his tongue out between two buck teeth.
A young female picked herself up off the grass, grudgingly. Her sleek baby fur sheened a slate grey in the late sun’s light.
“You’re not supposed to be outside during prayers” her voice squeaked, indignantly.
“Neither are you,” Timu shot back, scratching one of his long ears absent-mindedly.
Nara scowled at him, venomous.
“Well I won’t tell the matriarchs, if you won’t.”
“Deal.” Timu spat on his paw and extended it with a lopsided grin.
“Ewww” Nara spat in disgust. She ran and Timu gave chase, their voices quickly turning to rumpused squawks of giggles.
The afternoon wore on till at last the sun sat low and heavy in the sky, its warm orange glow igniting the lake by which the children had settled into a circus of stained glass murals. Timu practised skipping stones on the water as Nara leapt gracefully from rock to rock.
“Nara, why do we pray to the old ones?”
“For protection,” she answered matter-of-factly.
“Do you really think the Kajii are as bad as our song-mothers say?”
Nara paused on one of the rocks, balancing perfectly on one leg as she mused.
“They must be. Why would the matriarchs be so careful otherwise?”
“Huh.. that makes sense.”
Timu swung his arm back to make another throw when the sudden sounds of movement in the forest made him pause, pricking his ears up at once. Nara had frozen in place as well, her own ears perked to attention. The sounds continued and Nara leapt from her perched rock onto the sand beside Timu. Timu’s nose quivered as he took in the scents of the forest, his young whiskers spinning with each sniff.
The sounds were growing closer and so the young ones ran into the forest to find a better hiding spot. They ended up inside a dead tree they’d been play-fighting on top of earlier; it’s moss covered trunk a safe hiding space for whatever large beast clamoured through the myrkwoods.
Nara gasped, falling back from the split in the log that allowed them to peer outside. A huge beast had wandered into view, as tall as a bear on hind legs, with long black shaggy fur and two curved horns rising from its head, each wrapped in strips of vibrant silk. A thick leather belt clasped its ample waist, holding a simple brown breechcloth in place. A shoulder strap fastened itself to both the belt and a spaulder, with a bag tied to its back. Resting on the spaulder a massive double headed axe bobbed alongside the beast.
The dark creature came to a halt in the forest and turned towards their fallen log with a sudden motion.
“I know you’re out there,” a deep voice bellowed in challenge.
Timu looked at Nara, wide-eyes filled with terror. Nara seemed to be trying her best to disappear into the rotting woodwork she’d pressed herself up against.
The beast began to walk towards them.
“Come out before you make me mad.”
“RUN NARA, RUN!” Timu squeaked. He and Nara shot out from the log’s interior into the forest’s undergrowth in wild terror.
“Woah, woah..” the beast dropped its axe, and raised its hands up.
“Hold now, I’m not going to hurt you.”
Timu peeked out timidly through a hawthorn bush he and Nara had plunged into; the sharp needles pricking at them through their fur.
“It’s okay, you can come out. You have nothing to fear.” Timu started to worm his way out, whilst Nara clutched his cottontail; a common sign of anxiety amongst their own people. Once out of the bush, Timu stood in front of Nara protectively, who peeked at the beast every so often wide-eyed from behind.
“Ho-there little ones. I’m Dan’ar, of the Northern Steppes. Peace upon you,” he said with a deep, mellow voice and a sincere bow of the head.
“Peace upon you,” Timu replied, nervously; following the traditions of the Awakened. His own head bobbed slightly, but not enough to take his eyes off the humongous creature before him.
“Pray tell, who do I have the pleasure of meeting on this beautiful day?”
“I am Timu of the Grey. This is Nara. We come from-” Nara suddenly shushed Timu.
“You’re not supposed to say, Timu.” She glanced at Dan’ar nervously, but bowed her head as the custom of honour requested.
“I am pleased to meet you, Timu and Nara of the Grey. Many tales have I heard of your fleet-footed people. But you are the first I have ever met.”
“Are you one of the Gefn?” Nara whispered, uncomfortably; her eyes fixed to the floor as she shuffled her feet.
“You have heard of my people then! We do not usually have many dealings this far south, but I am what you might call an explorer of sorts.”
“What’s an ex-por-wer?” Timu asked curiously, eyeing Dan’ar’s massive ornate axe.
“Someone who travels the horizons in search of new places and new friends, like you two.” Dan’ar smiled kindly.
“But what about your song-mother, doesn’t she worry about you being so far from home?” Nara asked timidly.
“My song-mother?” Dan’ar frowned.
“Well you know, I guess she does,” he chuckled, lifting the axe onto his lap as he slumped down to the ground in front of the children.
“But my mother gave me this axe many summers ago, so that I might always protect myself. It has been in my family for generations now, since the Great Wrecks even - when it was carved from the wooden ships that once enslaved my people.”
“The Kajii have ships,” Timu declared, proud of his knowledge.
“Yes they do, don’t they. Do they visit these lands much, Timu?”
“The Matriarchs say that the Kajii stole our land long ago, but that we are the shadows of it’s soul and that as long as we are here, the soul of our land and the names of our ancestors will be remembered.”
“Well they sound very wise. It is important to remember our ancestors.”
“Did the Kajii take the soul of your land, Dan’ar?” Nara asked.
“Not yet, little one. Though we have fought a few times over the years or so I’ve been told. I am too young to remember the last such skirmish on our borders-”
In the distance the sound of a strange, warbling horn rang out in three short blasts.
“Timu..”
“We have to go, Dan’ar. They are looking for us.”
Dan’ar snorted in consternation.
“Well the sun is low this day and these woods seem as good a place to camp as any. Tell your people about me, little ones. I would be honoured to meet with more of the Grey. You will find me here if you return.”
Nara smiled shyly at Dan’ar as Timu quickly waved. Together they raced away into the woodlands back towards the monastery, their home.