Abyss

Chapter 16: Lonely



Ayve did not make a move to hold Pheus back. What right did he have? His words of warning that he always had issued, his encouragement at the beginning of their odyssey for Pheus to strike his own path because, by all means, Ayve would not be able to give him what he sought, they had not been empty phrases. He had withdrawn to a quiet place at the brim of the nymph settlement and had waited motionlessly except for his trembling hands for his companion’s departure.



He had expected Pheus to just leave without any last greeting, but after a while, the dark haired, athletic man emerged from the woods and walked towards him. He set the huge bundle that he had packed on the floor and gazed down at Ayve’s crouching form.



Neither of them uttered a word. Ayve did not even look up at Pheus.



“Farewell, then,” he whispered after a while.



With a sudden motion, Ayve unexpectedly grasped the hand that was just about to seize the bundle again.



Pheus looked at him in wonder. To his surprise, there was desperation in those finely chiselled features of his would-be lover. Ayve’s eyes were glued to Pheus’ lips.



The man swallowed, feeling his heartbeat speed up. It was madness, but he bent down. Seeing no sign of resistance, he brushed his lips over Ayve’s once more. They opened for him, and he delved into the soft depths of Ayve’s mouth, longingly trying to memorise its feeling.



The kiss carried the bittersweet taste of parting, of longing that would not be satisfied. Pheus had stopped pondering over the reasons for Ayve’s inexplicable behaviour; he had tried long enough to find logic in it that he could overcome. All he wanted at this point was to get away from the situation. He was not sure which path to strike, now. He would probably try to track down some of his own kind – he had met many individuals and small groups on their long journey that roamed the lands aimlessly – and just see what life held for him. At this point, his mouth still locked tightly with his former lover, it was hard for Pheus to see a future without Ayve. However, his pride and the drive for independency and autonomy that was the very core of his being pulled him forcefully away from an existence as the nymph leader’s henchman. He might have willingly taken care of Ayve, yet the way Ayve set back his own needs in favour for those of his people, the way he served them, made Pheus their servant, too. He had put up with that in the hope of freeing Ayve of his obligations soon and having him all to himself afterwards, yet that event was out of sight.



Pheus broke away, plastering a number of butterfly kisses on Ayve’s face. A wet trail ran down Ayve’s cheek, and Pheus opened his eyes to look at him. There were unshed tears in Ayve’s eyes.



Ayve did not meet his gaze. I’m sorry, he uttered almost inaudibly.



Pheus pulled him close. He knew those words were not meant to change his mind. He wanted to reassure Ayve, tell him it was not his fault, but it would not come over his lips. Even though Pheus did not blame the man in his arms, he was still deeply disappointed.



Eventually, he abruptly let go of Ayve and left wordlessly.







They were twenty-five nymphs when they left the tribe. Some of the natives had chosen to join them, reasoning that this at least promised a chance of a better life and that the few refugees would not be able to form a functioning tribe. Some bonds were made between refugees and nymphs. Among them, Seya found a bond-mate.



What followed, were centuries of nomad life. They had stricken a path south, since there had been rumours of another scattered nymph tribe in those lands, but they soon arrived in a country of vast, bare, flat land, covered by sand, herbs, and dry grass. The wind was harsh, the days hot, and the nights bitterly cold. Eventually, Ayve decided to circumvent this desert. Even though a few humans seemed to inhabit it which meant that it was possible to live in it, he was not willing to take the risk of entering such territory without any knowledge of it. Thus, they spent many decades on their way.



In the end, they came into a region that was covered in green. Dense, seemingly impenetrable forests dominated the area. They settled down for a while until humans moved too close to their place; then moved on. Thus they were driven further and further along, until eventually they had moved deep into the wooded mountains where few humans cared to thrive. By then, the tribe had been joined by more refugees that had crossed their way. A small number of offspring had been born as well.



Ayve sought to hide his continuing distress from the others. He refused to share his shelter with another male as would have been common, because he neither wanted anyone to witness his nightly struggles with his broken body nor could tolerate the idea of anyone taking Pheus’ place.



His sister was the only one who had an inkling of what was going on with him. It was not possible to hide it from her since it would have been irresponsible to not make sure someone was able to fulfil his tasks when Ayve’s body forsook him. He did not teach her everything, only what was necessary in emergencies: basic knowledge about healing and helping a child into life.



However, it was still he who tested unknown herbs, fruits and roots when they came upon them in a new area to make sure they were not dangerous and ensure that they still had remedies for the most common ailments even if their known vegetation was unattainable. It was still he who bonded the female nymphs to their male bond mates, he who guided them in the ‘fertility rituals’.



It was also he who started to realise that he would not last amongst his kin. He began to smoke that mix of herbs that elders consumed when their bodies started to ache, reproachfully eyed by the few elders they had picked up on their way. The habit eased his suffering noticeably, but it did not cure him, of that Ayve was aware.



Long years he held out. Eventually, his sister approached him, a thing she rarely did. It was a long talk, filled with worry and many silences. In the end, they decided that there really was no choice. Ayve had the faint hope that – absurd as it sounded seen as to why Ayve was in this state – somewhere amongst the humans he would find a way of healing or at least soothing his ailments. After all, they had very different lifestyles. Perhaps one of those was better suited to him.



Of course, that meant leaving everything behind that was left of his old life and walking into the unknown. It was yet another life altering decision, one he had avoided for a long time. Yet in the end, there really was no choice. Ayve had to do something and this was the only thing he could think of.



He prepared his sister, giving her further instructions on all the basic rituals that were necessary in order to ensure that the tribe would be able to continue daily life without major conflicts even without him. Officially, Ayve planned a scouting trip to gather more knowledge of the humans and thus ensure the safety of the tribe. As a matter of fact, this explanation eased his conscience, indeed making him feel that his trip would be advantageous beyond his own personal interests. The humans were still a potential threat and any additional knowledge about them might be of help at some point.







Ayve’s path carried him further eastwards. He settled down here and there for a year or a winter, studying the people and trying to find out more about their ways of healing. Once more, he used his mental powers to deceive them, pretending to be a wealthy traveller. Eventually, the nymph took to shuttling between a handful of larger settlements that were renowned for their medical experts. In these, he founded a household, built up a fortune by working in some area of art, and sought healing.



His constitution soon grew better. Ayve was aware that he would never again obtain the same effortlessness in his movements that he had been gifted with in his youth, but it was nevertheless an indescribable relief for his pain to be alleviated.



After a period of twenty-five years, Ayve first made his way back to his tribe. This time, he used human travelling devices to ease the journey. Even though he had little knowledge about what would be most needed, he bought a number of goods for his people, although he chose not to bring anything too uniquely human. Some members of the tribe rightfully refused to have anything to do with their tormentors, a sentiment Ayve understood and respected. Moreover, he would have been reluctant to bring too much of the human culture to his own tribe in any case. The nymph culture was already endangered as it was; supplying his people with tools that might prove more helpful but that they would not be able to reproduce themselves would not help them but would only make them dependant.



It was an alienating experience to ‘come home’. The life of his people was so much calmer than the life in Chinese town. Humans lived on an accelerated clock: to the nymphs, twenty-five years were a relatively short time span, whereas for humans, it was half a lifetime. It took Ayve a while to accept the pace of their daily life; then he resumed his old tasks – preparing the ceremonial tea, collecting herbs, teaching the children. He guided a young couple through their first night together, and a year later, a boy was born under his care.



Ayve was relieved to realise that the general opinion of him seemed not to have been affected by his absence. He had feared that he would be blamed for not fulfilling his traditional tasks, but over the long time of their journey, his people seemed to have developed a blind faith in him that did not waver.



After four years, Ayve felt his body struggle once more, and so he took his leave again.



Once more, he settled down in a town, his already gained experience helping him this time to fit into the local community more easily. He set up a small business and hired servants. However, in a society like the local, in which not the individual but the family were the important social units, his lack thereof drew attention to him. It was a predicament: Ayve neither wanted nor could sire a child with a human woman. He loathed even the idea of touching anyone. At the same time, his loneliness weighed heavily on his shoulders.



As a means of at least feeling closer to people, of getting a better understanding of what was important in their lives, of what moved their hearts, Ayve started reading their thoughts. In many cases, people’s minds were filled with simple day-to-day matters, small troubles, or big resentments. Still, sometimes there was a special flower blooming in their hearts, a dark secret or a very tender longing.



During one of Ayve’s excursions into the town’s mental world, he came upon a young lady, the daughter of a neighbour, in fact, who seemed in deep distress. By gently nudging her mind into the right direction, he soon was presented with the answers he was looking for: the poor thing had been assaulted by the sexual desires f a stranger against her will. Now the one who had recently proposed for her but had not yet paid the bridal price to her parents which would have sealed their engagement had withdrawn this proposal, considering her impure. It did not help that her mother had fallen ill and the family was in need of the financial aid the engagement had promised in order to pay her doctors.



For a few days, Ayve watched the situation, discreetly gathering information about the family’s social status and reputation and pondering over the matter. Should he risk it? Surely a woman who had been sullied like this would be glad not to be touched intimately by him? Still, it meant letting someone permanently into his close proximity which would force him to keep up his false identity without a pause.



One thing set the course of his thoughts: watching the fragile girl one morning doing work in the yard and paying closer attention to her physical appearance, he suddenly grew aware of a second life. Inside of her. She carried a child. A child of which she knew nothing yet.



This was his chance. He had to act quickly.



And quickly act he did. Within two weeks he had proposed to her parents and a small wedding ceremony had been organised. Of course, the rush had surprised them, but under their circumstances, they did not question it.



The wedding night was not easy for either of the spouses. His newly wed ‘wife’ could not meet Ayve’s eyes as they entered the bedroom. Her long black hair ran beautifully down her traditional garments.



“Do not worry,” Ayve tried to soothe her. “You will not have to share this room with me constantly. After tonight, you will be left in peace.”



For an instant, her eyes flickered towards his in disbelief, before they were directed to the floor once more.



Ayve motioned for her to undress and lie down on the bed.



Her hands shivered as with painstaking slowness she disrobed. With weak legs, she staggered over to the bed and lowered herself to lie down. With dear in her eyes she watched Ayve get closer. He sank down beside the bed. Gently, he placed a hand on her face, looked into her horrified eyes, and started to push into her mind. He poured calmness into her, slowly dissipating her panic. The girl’s body gradually relaxed, her breathing normalised, and her features softened.



When Ayve looked at his ‘wife’s” body, he noticed that she would have been recognised as a very fair being by most of her kinsmen. However, no desire rose in him. Such notions were far from him at that point. It took him an enormous amount of self-control to access the memories in his mind of how good sexual encounters could be and modify them into false pictures of a mutual wedding night. Concentrating hard on his task, he pushed a tender form of desire into the woman, followed by feelings of arousal while he gave her mind the image of him – or his false persona that he pretended to be amongst the Chinese – making love to her gently. It was a simple act that barely took more than a dozen minutes, but he made sure she would keep it as a good memory in her mind.



Having finished the charade, he sent her to sleep.



Thirty-seven weeks later, Ayve’s ‘wife’ gave birth to ‘their’ daughter. He found no doubt in the young mother’s mind about his fatherhood. Perhaps she suppressed any other thought for her own sake.



Ayve left the family as soon as the girl had been married and the two ladies therefore were secured. It was clear to him that the experiment had failed and would remain a single event. Despite the loving, respectful way in which his ‘wife’ had treated him, he had not been able to enjoy it. He had felt as if in a cage, trapped by his own lies, his own false masquerade, and separated from the people around him through the distrust that still loomed in the back of his mind, his constant vigilance, and his distanced, observant view on them.



After this experience, Ayve chose to be more on the move, to not linger too long in one place. He travelled through the country, ‘coercing’ noble men to pay his meal or a bed for the night. Additionally, he increased his visits to the tribe, so that for every five years that he spent away, he stayed at least two ‘at home’, taking care of the needs of his people. His comprehensive studies of Chinese medicine enhanced his knowledge in the field of daily welfare and healing, a matter that gained him high regard within his tribe.







In what Ayve would learn to identify as the sixteenth century, there were suddenly rumours of foreign ships doing trade in the seaports. Always eager for some form of distraction, he travelled toward the sea to see and listen to those foreigners himself. Their language was unfamiliar to him, but already they had started to take up crumps of the local language and some locals had started to learn theirs, so that some of what they said was translated. Embracing the opportunity of soaking up knew knowledge and forgetting his troubles for a while, the nymph leader spent a lot of time in the presence of those far come people, first silently observing them, taking up the rhythm of their tongue and thus little by little starting to understand them, later actively seeking their company in inns or while they walked through town.



It was not that Ayve particularly liked the ways of those men who claimed to come from a country called ‘Portugal’. They ruthlessly acted in their own interests, not refraining from violence if it proved ‘necessary’ (not that the local people were always peaceful). However, there was something that had immediately caught his eye: they looked much more like those people back in his old ‘homeland’ than the local Indians, the Chinese or those Arabians who often came to these shores to trade goods.



When they readied their ships to sail home, Ayve made a big decision: he chose to go with them.





A/N: Sorry for not proofreading it once more. My sister passed away last night.