The Kieran Chronicles

Chapter 4: “New Days, Old Friends"

Ikemshe, for her part, was cool and professional; that was certain. She looked at me. “There are quite a few houses close to the great hall still; have you any preference?"

I thought about it “Not really,” I answered. “I am new here, and I do not really know anyone except for the clanleader, Witar, and Torin at the market."

She nodded, and beckoned to me with her hand. “This way, then.”

She looked first this way, and then that, and appeared to do some kind of mental calculation. Then she beckoned again. “This way."

And we zigzagged this way, past houses that except for details, seemed mostly alike. Each house seemed to be two set back to back, surrounded by a fence easily as tall as a person’s shoulders. Some seemed vacant; some were definitely in use. The houses were arranged much like the booths on Pier Island. It only took a moment before she stopped at one house that appeared totally vacant. “Here,” was all she said.

We went to the swinging gate, and she opened it for me. I followed her up the short walk, past a tree to our collective right, and the door.

“This house is totally empty,” she said, confirming my earlier impression. You get this half. You get a bathhouse all your own unless someone is placed in the other side behind this one. They are joined by a common door, which would remain locked until you married.” Oh, the assumptions, I thought uncharitably

There was a porch, with a chair and a table on it. The door was slightly open; it beckoned to me invitingly. We entered.

Inside, there was already furniture; I saw several chairs, some tables, and a low couch in one corner. It seemed as though the previous occupant had left his or her furniture when moving.

Ikemshe looked about. “If you need help rearranging the furniture,” she said, “let me know: I will find someone to help.” She went to one door at the far wall in the main room, and opened it. To me, at least, the smell of wetness and stone filled the air. “Down there is the bathing area,” she said. Towels are in a niche in the privy area, which is just off the bedroom. The food area,” and she walked over to another doorway, and opened the curtains, “is here.”

I looked at the bathhouse door, and walked over there. The odor got much stronger; it seemed much stronger than I had ever smelled moisture before, which must be due to the fact that I was now descended from wolfish stock. I saw clearly that the stairs descended into the darkness and the underground.

Ikemshe looked at me and nodded. “We built this where there were many hot springs, and dug others for water, and warmth. We often do.” And Ikemshe then closed the door again, and turned to me. “You have so little,” she commented. “You may decorate this place as you wish; it will remain yours until you leave."

“Ikemshe? What do you mean, until you leave?” I wanted to know.

“Either by death or design. You may need a bigger house if you and your wife have children, for example.” She said it so matter of factly that I almost laughed, but I didn’t. Apparently, marriage was very important among my new race.

“Ikemshe,” I said seriously, but with a smile. “I don’t know anyone right now who would want to marry me."

But Ikemshe did not seem to agree. “No one can say,” she replied. “For example, I find you quite likable so far. I am not unhappy to be your cousin."

“But surely you must know what I am,” I cried, unable to stop myself. “I am kah-merla."

“Really? I see nothing wrong with you; did you arrange to have this done to you?” she asked.

“No, Ikemshe,” I answered. “It was done TO me, to stop me from doing my job.” I paused, and then said it. “I was the marshall for the Wizard’s Council, to bring to justice those who defied the Council. Apparently, they used a transformation spell on me because they wanted the NalKuymal angry at me, and because it prevents me from doing any magic."

And she laughed, in the same way as Torin had! “I should say so,” she chuckled, “but we have our own ways to deal with such people! I, and now you, have many cousins that would be pleased to make them pay the price for their actions.” She paused and then asked, more soberly, “Are you planning to deal with them?"

I nodded, and Ikemshe looked at me up and down, as if judging me. “There is nothing wrong with you that I can see. In my opinion, if I were not merla to you, I might look at you with interest.” It was plain what she meant.

When I reacted with surprise, she shook her head. “I know who you are; we in the clan leader’s family were told you were coming. And why else would you need to be taught children’s lessons as an adult? Why else has the language been given to you? It’s all right, really. Give me your name.” When I answered her, she nodded. “A good name, and I hope it fits you. What is your second name?"

When I reacted by telling her I had none, Ikemshe frowned. “You need one; you are certainly old enough. Let me explain.” Ikemshe smiled in a friendly fashion, and sat on the couch. I followed suit, and she began.

“KaiJuval,” she started.

“I want you to call me ai,” I said to her. “If you don’t mine, that is."

“Of course not; I am pleased you should say so,” she smiled at me. “In return, you may call me by a nickname I got from my little brother, who couldn’t say my whole name: Kema. But only when we are alone, or when we are with others who you know call me so."

“Why?” It seemed significant.

“We have different layers of relationships in the NalKuymal. First, and the outermost one, are strangers. Your first name, that is your full first name is for everyone, even if they do not know you. Nicknames, or your second name, from your father, is for personal friends, and for kin.” I digested this, it was a code I realized I HAD to remember from now on. “It is like saying to this or that person, I am letting you in, closer to me. I trust you.” Ikemshe nodded to me, and finished. “It is like the different friends you must have had. Do you not trust some of them more than others?"

I nodded. “Thank you, Kema; I will treasure this closeness.” Her whole face seemed to smile then; I realized I had said the right thing after all. “Please, go on; I want to learn."

Every NalKuymal,” she said, “has three names by adulthood. The first is given you by your mother at birth. The second is from your father at eight years old."

I told her I knew this, having been told that by the clanleader. She smiled again. “So did your father call you anything besides your name?"

I had to think about it, but finally remembered one thing: My father was the one who had introduced me to magic all those many years ago, and had often said I had the manners of an imp. He had meant that in a positive way, but sometimes I wasn’t certain what he’d really meant. I told her that.
“Well, we use a word ‘Malar,’ for the chaotic spirits of the world, which might mean imp. But it would be very rare for your father to use that as a second name, for it is a special term, and not for children,” she told me. And then Ikemshe seemed to consider it further. “ai, we don’t believe in imps the way humans do, and we do not do magic of any kind. So we should take your father’s wishes and wonder what your father might have meant if he had been NalKuymal instead.”

She looked away, into space for a moment, and then brightened. “We do, however, recognize that there are other chaotic spirits throughout the world. We call these spirits by name, too. Let us see.” She cocked her head, looking for all the world like a dog. I found that fascinating. Then she nodded, as if to herself.

“What kind of magic did you do?” she asked.

I remembered, “Hmmm. I searched for people running from the law of the Council, and then collected them for the journey back to the Wizard’s Council. I did bindings on them, and bade them be silent so that they couldn’t speak against me or the wizards."

Ikemshe nodded, showing she understood, and continued to think. Then she nodded again, as if she had discovered something. “Aahua; I understand. But did he ever call you anything else? Did he ever say anything else to you?"

I tried to remember my father, but it was hard. It was so long ago I confessed to her that it had been nearly two hundred years since my father had been alive.

And Ikemshe got this really strange look on her face. “Did you …cheat to be so old and not look it?” The question was a telling one, for it said starkly what many NalKuymal probably thought of all magery.

I shook my head. “No, Kema; it was simply the nature of the magick I used, for it came from the planet itself. My own healer said it had to do with how old the planet is. Maybe he is right” I fell silent.

And she looked at me, actually with relief. “I am glad; I did not think you were a cheater.” And she, too, fell quiet.

We stayed that way for a while, as though we were trying to divine this from long dead spirits. Ikemshe sighed. “This might be taking too long; surely you will be a father before we find out what your father wanted for you."

A joke! Well! So even my new people were capable of humor… I actually laughed, and the sound was now strange to me; it didn’t seem right. “Sorry,” I said quietly, placing my fingers against my mouth and nose. “But I have heard of some elves who can take that long to decide anything.” I paused for one more short moment, and then I asked. “Is there anything we can do for a second name? I do need one."

She nodded. “Sometimes, fathers who cannot think of anything use another word for the same as the first name. I have a brother who was called ‘stubborn like a rock’ actually. Fortunately, his clanleader, my uncle, called him something completely different later on. You could be like that. No one would even suspect anything."

I thought again, and then shrugged. “Since I can’t figure what my father would have wanted, maybe it’s for the best. And I need two names to be NalKuymal; that sounds like the best solution, Ikemshe. What is another word for hawk or eagle?"

“Hawk has many words; on our original home planet, we had many kinds of hunting birds.” Again, she fell silent as she thought about it. Then she nodded rapidly, as if ‘aha.’ “You could be KaiJuval Tesmel, or Tarl; both are hawk words."

I tried them both out in my mind, and then I nodded myself. “KaiJuval Tarl. It sounds right."

Ikemshe jumped up, like bouncing on a springy pillow. “Tarl it is, then. I will tell Zafra.” She nodded to me again. “You have done it, ai.” Ikemshe went to the door. “This is your house, Tarl. We need to go to the hall, so I can find you some more clothes.”

I had already put down the food basket that held my lunch, and she guided me out the front door, and I turned to it. “Should I lock it, Kema?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I will put up a tag that says this house is being used, and no one will come in here unless invited. We are different, remember?” And she proceeded to place a placard in an open-faced box which sat there on the left post of the gate, almost like a picture frame. The placard had an illustration of playful wolves chasing one another; it looked quite clever.

And I had to admit: this was one of the parts I needed to remember. NalKuymal didn’t take from members of their clan. They stuck to one another like glue and paper. “I’m sorry, Kema. I need to remember that."

She shook her head, smiling. “It is all right, Tarl. You come from another place, and you have much to learn."

I looked at her. “Will everyone call me Tarl now? Why is it done?"

She shrugged. “As I’ve said, the second name is for family members, and close cousins within the clan. It is an indication that you have a greater sense of trust with these people. Among strangers, or people we are not sure of, people will still call you KaiJuval. You can always ask friends to call you ai, if you wish; it is up to you. Let us go."

So we went back to the great hall, but we went around to the other side. A smaller but attached building was within, and we went right inside. “This is my workplace; I am in charge of the resources of the clan,” she said. “If you need anything, please let me know.” She went to the corner shelves, which went all the way around the walls. “Do you know what your colors are?” she asked.

I had to admit; I really didn’t. “Oldaber of the market on Pier Island said I was at least a fighter. He put me in these clothes,” I said.

“And a musician, too,” she agreed. And then she cocked her head again, and looked at me. “Okay, blacks and blues it is, then, for now. She took a string, laid it on my shoulders, side to side, then from my neck to my hips. Around my waist she went, then from my waist to my heels. All this she did without it seeming like she was being overly friendly. “I don’t have much in your size, for most adults have their own clothes made for just themselves. I will have yours made soon, but for now…” She pulled down several tunics, all black, with blue ribbon trim, and the same number of breeches, these were a very dark grey. These she put in my arms. “There. For now, this will be what you wear in public. At home, you may wear whatever nonsense you want to.

“Always wear your clanpin, even inside the walls. It is your ticket to many things, and no one will question what you might want. It’s in the right place; that is where it belongs.” Then she went to another series of shelves, and pulled out a book, some styluses, a notebook of blank paper. “For your notes as you learn,” she explained. “And this is the book you must begin to read now.” And she gave these to me.

The book lay atop the notebook and I opened it. It was written in the native tongue of the NalKuymal, I realized, although it looked like the Common scratches to me. It was in a four-line, non-rhyming verse but except for that, I did not recognize it. “What is this?"

Did she look more solemn just then? “This book is the basis for any and all laws for the NalKuymal Xlel (which I knew now meant “people”). It is called the KuymalSong. Whatever we do, and wherever we go; this is our law."

>TarlIt seemed so small for such a grand purpose. I stared at it in wonder, and she pushed it towards me firmly. “We have many sayings, Tarl. This one goes like this: ‘read it until you learn it. Learn it until you live it.’ It is very important. I wish I could say more, but you will know it in your own way. It is legal and spiritual to us."

I cocked my own head this time, and looked at her. “How can that be?” I asked. “I had the impression that the NalKuymal were not religious; they do not believe in gods."

“Yes, that is true, but you don’t need a god to have deep, spiritual beliefs. It is all we hold dear, and sacred. We do not worship anything, but we know these things to be true. They have always been.” She paused for a moment, then she spoke. “Just know this; this work is the oldest written work of our people. It crossed the stars with us; we passed it from parent to child forever. Even skeptics have never proven it wrong. We know it to be true."

I could tell she was serious, but it was incomprehensible to me. “I will read it,” I decided to promise her. “I will do my best."

And that seemed to ease her mind a bit. “I am glad,” she said. “It is important; if you have questions, please don’t hesitate to ask me."

Then she found me socks, and house slippers (“don’t wear them out in the yard”), two more belts, a large-brimmed hat for the sun, undershorts, and a lined, calf-length, hooded cape. “I’ve given you everything in basic black and grey, no trim. As we discover what your position and job is in the clan, we can modify your clothes."

“And that is important?” I asked.

“Most definitely,” she nodded. “We are a very symbolic people, and colors mean something to us. Even from a distance, your clothing will tell everyone what and who you are, so there is no mistaking it. It allows you to get along with the other clan members. It’s very basic to us."

Black and grey meant that I was a fighter that had mental power: black was for physical strength and power itself, and grey was the color of mental power, and balance, the ultimate goal of every NalKuymal in some way or another. ”I can feel your power when I stand near you, so that is why I gave you grey. You will need training,” she said. “As for the ribbon, although it is plain, it shows your affinity for the arts, and music. Later, we can personalize it, with crossed flutes, perhaps."

I remembered what Zafra had said, and the demonstration he had helped me with, and I told Ikemshe. She nodded, smiling. “See? I have said as much. You will need a trainer who can identify your ability and help you sharpen your skills."

I think it was a measure of what I had already learned that I didn’t ask her how I might be taught these skills, for Zafra had already taught me something, and the healer, too, had taught me… well, in a way, anyway.

I shared this with Ikemshe, who I found easy to talk to. I closed the book for now, and asked what I should do.

“Go back to your house and dress nicely; dinner will be coming soon to the hall. You are to sit, if I am not mistaken, with the clanleader himself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have told me to take you to him at dinner.” She turned me around playfully, and gave me a tiny push. “Go now, and don’t get lost. I’ll be at your house soon."

I did as she bid me, and almost got lost anyway, but then, I had only been there once. Once inside, I looked around. The house was nearly empty, but maybe not for long. I went into my bedroom, found the armoire, hung the tunics, put the rest in the drawers in the bottom of the cabinet. I stripped off my clothes, snatched a towel, and went down into the warm, damp air of the bathing room.

It was darkly lit, but my eyes soaked in all available light. There was a sunken tub of very, very hot water in the center of the underground room, and another, smaller tub off to one side. I recognized it for what it was. The smaller tub was for washing, and the larger was for soaking and rinsing. This was so I couldn’t get dirt in the larger tub. Nice. I took the rough, but fragrant soap, cleaned myself off, for the first time since my transformation, and then soaked for a short while, sternly telling myself not to close my eyes.

After that nearly happened anyway, I got out, dried myself with the thick, luxuriant towel, and then got myself up the stairs again.

I continued to dry myself, brushed and used nice-smelling powder that had lain on a nightstand next to the simple bed that sat up against one wall: . It reminded me of the bed in the healer’s area, but it was bigger, perhaps even enough for two if friendly. I sat on the bed, put on my socks, and then my boots… the last human thing I still owned. I wondered if anyone would not like me because of my boots, then I chided myself for that.

I ate lunch, walked around the clanhold yards (found a young rose bush in one corner), and read the book given to me. After lunch time, I watched as others around me went to their houses, and napped. Well, a nap can’t be a waste of my time, so I did the same.

Later on, Ikemshe came to the gate. “Tarl!” she called out. I came to the door, went out on the porch, and closed the door behind me.

I was indeed sat next to Zafra, and met his wife (Ornil), his son (Korban), and Zafra went out of his way to ask me questions about what was happening “outside.”

I was then teased into playing my flute, which I always had with me in my pouch. Then I was actually given a sheet of paper with writing on it. As I looked at it, Zafra whispered, “that’s music” to me, and I promised to learn it.

I awoke the next morning to the sound of a loud voice outside my new yard. I stumbled out of my blankets and tunic to go to the window of my bed room, to see a man standing out at my fence, waving at me.

“Come on,” he called. Time for school!” It was barely light outside, and yet the yard was alive with movement: people, animals, and birds… all heading somewhere.

I looked at him. “Who are you?” I called.

“I am Sarvan, your trainer!” he yelled. “First, a bit of breakfast food, and then I want to see what you’ve got.” He gestured towards himself with a broad, expansive wave of his hand. “Come on; it is morning already!"

“I’ll be out,” I replied, and looked around wildly, for I did not wish to be shown up by some stranger. I shinnied out of last night’s tunic, and got into my new clothes. My hands felt cramped and sore, as though I had slept for a lifetime, but I ignored them. After rubbing my hands together for a moment or two, the soreness subsided, but did not go away as it usually had.

I wondered about that, as I rummaged around for my socks and boots. The latter felt a bit funny, and I suspected I knew why: these feet were not human anymore, and the bvoots were made for human feet. I would need to get new ones one day… but not now. I got out my belt, attached my pouch to it - one of the few things I still had from my previous life - and went to the front door.

He was on the front porch already, having opened the gate to my yard, and bounced up the three steps.“ Morning to you,” he said. “Hungry?” he asked.

My stomach and I both responded emphatically. “Yes,” I said enthusiastically. He beckoned to me, and we both headed to the clan hall, a place I would probably become well acquainted with from now on.

As we walked together, I took a good look at my instructor. Physically, he seemed both very alike and very different than either Zafra or Ikemshe.

For one thing, he appeared older than either of them. He was dressed in the inevitable tunic and breeches, but wore no tabard. His clothes were worn and a tunic elbow had a neat patch covering it. He also wore a round pendant which hung from a sturdy looking chain, and it fell just about at midchest. Strung through the chain were two beautiful looking silver rings, both with black stones bevelled at the crowns. My teacher wore a wide leather belt, and a pair of swords swung from the loops on both sides: one a short sword that might have been a main gauche in truth, and the other was a beautiful sabre in a well used, but loved scabbard of black.

He walked with a lithe, easy grace and his right hand gripped a tall staff that had obviously served him well: its hard surface was worn in a way that suggested much use. He might have used it for support, too, but it did not seem so., for a similar wearing was at the bottom near the same place as the top.

Sarvan looked at me as we walked, and spoke in a way that suggested he did not mind being my teacher. “You are looking at me. Memorizing my face?"

“Yes sir,” I said. I had been a soldier briefly a long time ago, and I had been drilled to show respect to trainers. Then I amended my statement by adding, “Actually, you are a bit different than almost everyone I’ve met so far,” I finished.

Sarvan nodded without seeming upset. “That is probably because I am not Eresha. I live here because my mind partner is of your clan. We live together.”

The ease with which he said this told me that this was going to be interesting. “Mind partner?” I asked, curious.

“Yes,” he said with ease. “I know about you; it was explained to me."

He continued, “You will have to learn about that kind of relationship before too long. Your clanleader showed you about linking minds together for a short time. As you do it more often, with the same people, your minds will form bonds. It is considered a special kind of friendship. As footpaths become worn, so do these connections. I know humans have no such things, but I also know that mages become like this when they contact good friends more and more often."

And he was right: I was “attached” to a friend or two, but I had never thought… “So this person is your mind friend?” I asked.

“Yes, most definitely,” he answered. I can teach you to make connections, to reach out with your mind and locate people who you know and who you might want to know. The relationships you make this way will be of your own choosing. It may become as two houses standing next to one another, all the doors and windows open. That is how it is with myself and my… mind partner. I always know where and how he is."

“Isn’t that annoying?” I asked. I remembered one of my first trainers magically, who always seemed to be around, even when a continent away.

“Maybe sometimes,” he admitted. Then Sarvan smiled, as though remembering something. “But mostly not; it is like a favorite shirt, or even the familiarity of your favorite horse. You will come to expect it there, and worry when it isn’t."

By now, we had gotten to the clanhall. “Get your fill,” said Sarvan. “I have eaten already, but there is always something to be had at this hour.” He pointed at a fenced in area, and nodded to me. “That is the closest practice yard. I will be waiting there for you.” And with that, he turned on his booted heel, and left me.

I got some leftovers, a common breakfast even among humans, and got some tea. I sat down, and was immediately surrounded by three really large dogs. They obviously thought I might share with them. “I only have one bowl,” I said, using a friendly voice, but they ignored my words.

So I ignored them back, as best I could. When I finished my breakfast, and I put the bowl down, they looked to me as though I might make the decision for them.

Then I heard a young voice. “Do not tease,” he said, and it took me a moment before I realized he was talking to the dogs, not me. And I saw a very young child, perhaps five years old, come forward. He seemed a bit familiar, and I realized he was the same lad that had taken the clanleader’s dish the previous night: Zafra's son, in fact.

He looked at me. “You need your own dog,” he said to me with a toothy smile. He reached down, picked up the bowl of stew and waved it over them.

It was almost comical, the way the dogs begged for the scraps in the bowl. I had especially made certain there was enough for more than a nibble. The young lad judged the contestants until he was satisfied with one of them. As he put the bowl down, he looked at me. “Training,” he said. “Trainer is waiting."

I took the hint, and let him take care of my dishes. I went back out to the front door, and eyeballed the arena that had been pointed out for me. I turned towards it and made for the fence that surrounded it.

Of course, Sarvan was already there. “Greetings, student,” he said. “Are you ready?” he said to me. “let us see what you can do."

He sparred with me, and complimented me on my skill. “All I really need to do is practice with you, and teach you some uniquely NalKuymal moves,” he said. “But we will work hard. I will still work you hard.” I somehow knew he would do that indeed.

By the time lunch arrived, I was sore and tired. Sarvan taught me what a NalKuymal does in the way of fighting. Essentially, they… no, WE are more precise and controlled, not wild or chaotic. And it was tiring, really, to make certain I did exactly as he wanted.

I nearly stumbled on my way to lunch, which I now desperately wanted. I ate and drank as though I hadn’t dined in a month… or so it seemed.

Then Sarvan walked me to my house, smiling as we went. “You need to build up your strength,” he said kindly. “I suggest you practice what I taught later this afternoon, after your other practice."

I couldn’t help but groan. “WHAT other practice?” I asked.

Sarvan reached up and fingered the rings on his necklace chain. “Mental skills,” he said. You need all sorts of training, or you will get hurt. No one will hold back. It is important that you know more than you do now."

Oh----- this was going to hurt. I went up the stairs to my house, and nearly fell into bed. I managed to sit up long enough to toe off my boots, and then I fell asleep.

Later, I awoke to the sound of a woman’s voice outside my house. I called back that I was coming and pulled my boots back on. Afterwards, I went to the door, opening it.

She was dressed in black and silver, a color combination I had not seen too often… only a couple times so far. I knew that black was the color for physical strength and for fighters, but the silver trim I wasn’t sure of. From what I could see of her next to the fence, this person was a bit taller than I was, and older, too. Yet, like most NalKuymal, her age seemed indeterminable. Did we really age? Grey hair, wrinkled skin (or hide, that is), creaking bones and worsening senses?

I waved at her, and came to the fence, closing the door behind me. She nodded at me politely. “Good day to you,” she said in a husky rich voice. She looked me up and down appraisingly. “Looks like Sarvan has tired you out a bit

“A little,” I admitted.

“Well, I shall not be much different, cousin. If you wish to leave the hold on your own, you will know how to use your mental skills, and not embarrass this clan.” She gestured back to my house. “Shall we?” she said.

Her name was Lorevale, and she was knowledgeable about one thing more than anything else. How to cause your gifts to manifest themselves.

The first thing she had to do was to give me a full examination--- again. “I want to judge what is your level of expertise.” It turned out that my experiences, and my talents, could be found on the inner levels of my auric field. “That way,” she said, “we can put your level of musical knowledge and that of your ability as a fighter, on your clothes. It is important for people to know.” She looked into me, it seemed, and she nodded, as though what she had found, she had expected. “I heard your music last night, and I am pleased to know the clan has gained such a beautiful flutist,” Lorevale said. “And your ability as a fighter only needs a little more honing. We are very precise, as you may now have found out, and this takes practice. But your power mentally is almost untrained, and that is bad. You must work hard, and for that, I am sorry. It will hurt, Tarl.

“First, believe that you can do this,” she said matter of factly. “Disbelieving will not shut it off.” This class mostly consisted of “do what I do” and my returning mental sight. It was as hard to manipulate my own aura as it was to precisely hit an archery target with the first shot. I was tired . My eyes ached from staring at something that shouldn’t be able to be controlled. Yet, by the time the day was over, I could do just a little. It’s hard to describe, as some actions had no words except for “do what I do,” but I learned that it was all a matter of power and control.

She examined me again, but there were no itches, no twitches of the fingers. And she told me about Sarvan's rings, and why he had been wearing them. Mostly by accident and experimentation, NalKuymal had learned that certain metals and stones could direct or channel mental power. It was a matter of knowing how to focus your aura to do this. And stones also could serve like a cup to store mental energy, for later use.

Different parts of the aura attached to the body could also direct and focus mental energies, to throw or move it to use. I learned to slow my own heartbeat, listening to it with my inner ear. I learned to control my breathing, . I learned to move the air like a wind and I discovered just how beautiful it could be.

And I knew there was more to learn than this, and it already seemed so much. Then Lorevale (Loree for short) told me to get rested. “We will both work you hard,” she said, but sweetly. “You have enough power to do harm, and so it must be trained. An untrained mind is a danger to you and your clan.

“Since we insist on everything being both helpful and beautiful, we make jewelry for the purposes of focus and channeling, using symbols that mean something to us, and to be beautiful, too. The third finger has the largest current for power in the hand, and we consider it the best for the ring. Have you ever seen a body once dead?” she suddenly asked.

Actually, I had; it had been a chilling sight. “So what do you mean?” I asked.

She had spread her hand before me, spread her fingers and pointed to visible lines in the palm and fingers. “Our bodies are much like the bodies of animals and are fed by lines of blood and power. The greyish lines are for the blood, and the black lines are for power. If you were a healer, you would know more than this, but it is important you realize that power feeds us, so that we can use our bodies. Blood comes from food, and so does power. I can take you into your own body, and help you to see it, if you like.” And she bade me close my eyes, so that she could help me.

As Zafra had helped me to see the aura, she guided me to see closer and closer, until the body became larger and more complex. I watched flesh become blood vessels, and nerve bundles, both pulsing with liquid and electrical charge. Every heartbeat caused both to course through my own body, and it threatened to overwhelm me, until a gentle voice called me back.

“It is a little much,” she admitted. “I only want you to see the wonder of your own self. You will learn to use the power for different things."

For now, it was enough to know that it was so. What might seem as magic to others was much, much more. It was… amazing to me.

Lore gave me my first ring, which she bade me put on the right middle finger. All it was was a piece of silver that encircled my finger, no more. But then she had me look at the aura that pulsed and coursed through and around my body. And I could see that the way it flowed had changed. How simple it was!

“As you grow in ability and control, your powers will exceed the ability of just one ring,” she said. “One cannot expect a small cup to hold a raging river,” she said. “We will then improve things, until you are finished training. You have done well so far."

I was informed that the soreness and itching of my hands was the physical reaction to the surge of newly channeled power within me. “If your hands start to hurt, or your ring breaks off, let me know. It means you are ready for the next step."

That night, Zafra came to me after dinner. “I know we are pushing you, but you are our first kah-merla. and Sarvan both say you have potential, and are a quick learner. Your body and mind will succeed. It is the soul, however, that needs teaching, too.” He held out his hand, and my copy of the book called the KuymalSong was there. “This is our soul. Without it, you are just a two-footed animal with a wolfish face. Ikemshe told you that this is older than any other book.”

I noddedat Zafra, and he continued, “So you must learn it, so that you not only fight and dress like us, but are one of us, too. I will help you. I and my son."

So began a long series of days and evenings of learning. It was as though they were in a hurry to get it done. I, on the other hand, would not have minded if every once in a while I had a day off, to reflect on the enormity of my task.

But everywhere, I was called cousin, and treated kindly. The clan, it seemed, knew more than I did about the possibility that my new knowledge would be tested all too soon.

As I got better at my studies, my days were divided into work and study days. I was given tasks like hunting (a grand affair that involved all the hunters and riders), and guardian.

The latter I did by walking atop the great wall of the clanhold, taking in all the land before me, watching for people who might approach the Eresha clan.

I learned the history of the clan, along with the Song, and the colors used to depict our skills. I learned that this was done since ancient history.

Blue, for example, stood for mystic power, art and music, and inspiration (which came from above, as it were, and thus the blue of the sky). Red was symbolic for fire, and thus craftwork. It also stood for peace, since it was the chromatic opposite of green, which was symbolic of life (leaves and the grass), and thus of violence. The darker a color, the more powerful it was: dark blue stood for the mind magic I was learning, while light blue was indicative of philosophy and the written word. I learned that yellow, like the sun, was symbolic of fire, too (there were multiple meanings for colors, and more than one color stood for the same thing, or even just different aspects of the same thing). These were things “everyone” knew, it seemed, and I had so much to learn. Yet no one crowded me, or thought me stupid. My body was twenty years old, an age when many got married and had already had one child….. It wouldn’t be fair to expect everything out of me thus far.

I watched myself in arena after arena, growing in skill and power, until my practice sword became real, and until one ring of power became two. When I took a look at the calendar, and saw that nearly six months had passed, it was both too fast and too slow. Had I become KaiJuval instead of Kieran in a wolf body? Would I ever know?

I didn’t have time to stop and consider if I had done the right thing in accepting my fate. And no one around to tell me otherwise. Maybe that was to the good. Who might know?

And well, perhaps I should have contacted someone from outside, but quite frankly, I was afraid. Why? I didn’t know many people who even knew about the NalKuymal, let alone knew any. There was one, but she was most likely to be out and about, instead of available for a message. At least, so I thought; I was wrong, for she came to me instead.

I had picked up my flute again, and was learning a new way of writing music. I spent my evenings every once in a while writing down some old elfish tunes, and had finally learned to record them on crystal cubes. Witar the driver loved to collect them from me, in trade for news from the outside world. I was still eager to get out and teach the wizards that had changed me a lesson or two, but my drive had been changed into a patient impatience.

I knew, from an experience that seemed a lifetime away, that they would still be alive and that deep within my body were the clues to finding them, one day. I would hunt them down, oh yes! And my new family would help me eagerly. Best of all, they would not be expecting it at all!

“Kai.” It was Witar; I recognize his voice. I looked up to see him.

He had a visitor with him. A human woman, dressed in NalKuymal clothes, her flame red hair bound neatly behind and atop her head.

Witar nodded respectfully to me. “Teymar,” he said, using the word for sir/madam, which meant one who is respected,” This person says she knows you. Is it all right?"

I had wondered if anyone would be looking for me at all. I hadn’t expected an actual visit from someone outside the island. “Yes, Witar. Thank you.” I stood up.

Cassandra Hapsburg, a mage and fighter, much like my previous experience, shook her head. “You don’t have to stand up on my account, ai. That is what they call you here?” she said.

Cassandra was from the old Wizard’s Council, a lifetime ago. She herself had been accepted as an honorable person among the NalKuymal. She and I had gone together in another life, to catch evil wizards to bring them to justice: I because it was my job and she because it was something she felt she ought to do. She like to fight against huge odds, she thought it was fun, actually. Her power and prowess as a fighter and as a mage herself was legendary.

I, unlike others, knew her story. She had come from another world where technology was used like magic, through a one-way magical portal, dumped into a world she had read about but had never seen.

Since her old world had thought such things as warriors and gods entertainment and not truth, one might think that Cassandra would have been overwhelmed by the vast barbarism and strangeness of her new world. But Cassandra had always believed that such might be true somewhere; she was thrilled to be here, and not willing to go home ever again.

In truth, the world she lived on now was her home. She would stay here and make a life for herself.

So Cassandra had carved out a niche by adventuring about, doing good deeds, and not being afraid to make a stand against those who might want to conquer her world. As time went on, she made friends with other races, including the NalKuymal. She earned their trust, and learned about their ways to the point that one day, one NalKuymal made Cassandra a personal friend. And one day, this NalKuymal woman took Cassandra home, to meet with her family, so that they might welcome her as she did.

You see, Cassandra loved women more than men, like the old goddesses of legend.

I had commandeered a couch in a corner of the clan hall, and now I moved off to one side. “Please sit. Welcome.” She did so, and then looked at me expectantly. “How did you find me?” I asked her.

“Well,” she said slowly, “My gesaika (partner, but not married) in the GreatWolf clan (the Kuymal, where Oldaber lived when not on Pier Island, where the big market was) has a sister who is married to a member of this clan. And she told him all about the new clanmember who is learning so well. And while the rest of Council thinks you simply died in a misadventure, I knew different.” She looked me up and down, as if appraising me. “I must say, I never expected this. What happened?"

I sighed. “Somebody changed me after I turned my last quarry in; I was asleep. I am sorry, Cass; I should have contacted somebody really. But I wanted to finish my retraining before I let anyone see me. They tell me I’m doing well."

“And what do you think of yourself?” she asked. “Do you accept it?"

“I have to. NalKuymal have a high resistance to magic spells. And trying to change me back could kill me; it’s happened before. I considered my new life. “It’s not a bad life, Cass. But I miss my friends. Maybe they might let me out if I promise to behave myself.” And I smiled at her. “I miss the old days; even though I can’t do magic, I wouldn’t mind going out again with you and the team."

Cassandra grinned like the flame haired imp she was. Whenever she was involved, life could get … very interesting. “And what about the low-lifes who did this to you?” she aske, still smiling. “It could be fun to go after them."

“Oh I agree,” I replied, “but not yet I’m waiting for the okay from my new clanleader. And Zafra has a good sense of judgment, I think. Of course, I could ask him tonight"

“Well, it’s just that I’ve never known you to be terribly patient,” she said. “What changed?"

“Nothing. But the cretins who changed me left their marks on my soul, Cass. And I’m reliably informed by a cousin that they still live. So long as they do, I can afford to get it right before I leave. I have cousins who want to come along. Would you also like to help out?” I asked, grinning now. “It could be fun."

Fun. Cassandra the Red-Hair had a funny definition for “fun,” one that included trouble for the persons involved if they were against her, or her friends. She like going against big odds and uneven numbers. Of course, she was deadly at her worst, and even more so at her best. “Sure,” she said smiling, “sounds good to me. How long? You know how easily I get bored."

“One minute,” I replied, and got up, crossing over to where my clanleader, his wife and son were, in another corner of the clan hall. “Jifgar,” I spoke.

Zafra looked up. “Yes, Tarl?” he asked. My closer friends in the clan, and the clanleader family (which included Ikemshe, who was married to one of Zafra's brothers) preferred to use my second name instead of “ai,” which is always the habit of NalKuymal… sort of like calling me “Kai” instead of “Kieran.”

“I have a friend who is visiting, and she would like to know when I can go out and play.” I asked. “She is also interested in the trip we are planning against the people who made me what I am."

Zafra smiled, as though he’d been expecting the question. “Actually, cousin, you’ve done very well. I am not sure of the inner you, but you fight and behave well, so I suspect you had a little Xlel in you all along.” Xlel was the Litaja word for “people,” and referred to a NalKuymal at heart. It would be a very high compliment from any who doubted me. “I even have your name: one that will be a warning to any who do this again. I suspect you are worthy of it. We can name you officially right now, if you like."

It sounded like so little, but it was a milestone for me personally. I had been trying so hard, reading and studying, and sweating that the finish nearly took my breath away. “Thank you, Jifgar,” I said, my voice filled with pride. Funny, I hadn’t expected to be proud of this accomplishment, but one thing had made it so.

Everyone in the clan had supported me. Even the few who had been unhappy that it had occurred were won over by my attempts at fulfilling my new destiny.

I went back to Cassandra, who had her finger on one of the cubes at my couch. A person who can hear psychic sound (inside their heads) could access the music or words stored on the layers of the cube, and listen to it as though it were live. Cassandra had told me, a lifetime ago, that where she came from, they did that with a strange sort of magic called “technology.” One day, I told her, I wanted to see it.

“Oh no, you don’t,” she had told me. “Trust me."

Well, I did trust her, but I was still curious; since then, I had seen humans create magick-like things with science. “Ahem” I cleared my throat.

Cassandra opened her eyes, and looked up at me. “Good news?” she asked… almost as if she already knew.

“I’m graduating tonight; I guess all I had to do was ask,” I said. “I’d like you to stand with me."

“I’d be honored,” she replied, her whole face shining. Even though I’d been “only a hunter” for Council, Cassandra had always treated me like a friend, and I considered her one.

In the meantime, I could see Zafra going over to various people that had, in a way, adopted me over the past months. Torin, once head of market, and now spending time at home for a while, Zafra's own wife Ornil (also his advisor), Sarvan, Lorevale (my trainers), and Witar, one of my staunchest supporters. These he gathered around his chair, and now he came over to me. “Come cousin,” he said, smiling. “Your new life awaits. You are ready to show the world you are Xlel"

Not only did the word Xlel mean people, it also had a way of referring to someone who did things right, or a word or action that was done or said according to the Way. It was a high compliment from Zafra.

I followed him over to the group gathered there, and Cassandra followed also, now with her partner. He was a dark skinned, man about her apparent age (Cass was old, like me it didn’t show). His name, Skeohar, meant proud spirit; he wore the almost blackish blue of a mind-artist and the silver of someone who could do almost anything with the power of his mind alone. And if he was the partner of Cassandra, who loved women more than men, he must be very special indeed.

I felt nervous; I had not expected to be done so quickly. These last six months had gone by before I’d known it.

Zafra sat me down in his own chair, which no one else EVER sat in; he seemed ridiculously pleased with himself and me. “Very little ceremony here,” he said, “but I want everyone to know. You are no longer kah-merla, Kai; you are clanmember and cousin. I am pleased to call you so.”

He raised his voice, and suddenly, I was surrounded by many cousins, some of whom I vbarely knew. “When he arrived, this man was known as KaiJuvalTarl. But he’s gone beyond that, and I give him the name of adulthood and pride, like my father and clanleader had given me when I grew up.” He paused, mostly for effect. “I name him Malar; the demon of chaos and power. May he show those who wronged him the strength of it. I hope sincerely that their affairs are in order, for Malar will show them the error of their ways if they aren’t ready to die."

They smiled at me, some only with their eyes, and then it was over. I had almost expected more, but then, I was glad it hadn’t been more complex than that. “Thank you, Jifgar,” I said.

“No need, cousin. You have earned it. Now I enjoin you: go see to your vengeance, but then: I need you to come home. And we need to talk further, privately.” He seemed to sober up a bit; I wondered why.

Cassandra looked at her partner Skeohar and then she said, “that’s our cue, ‘Ski. Let’s go find your sister; I want to beat her at chess.” She and her male friend left our company….

…. As did nearly everyone else, except for Zafra's son. Zafra looked at him. “You, too,” he said mock-sternly. His son pouted a bit, but he, too, left our company. Zafra looked at me seriously. “Come,” he said, “To your house then."

He, his dog and I left the hall, to head back to my house. I wanted to talk to him right away, but it didn’t seem the right time just yet. Once we ended up at my fence, he looked at me. “I’ve avoided this subject because I did not want to distract you. But the day will come when you … feel differently. It’s a part of our life,” he said.

He opened my gate, and we entered the yard, going up the path to my porch. We went up the three steps, and into the house itself

Once inside, he led the way to the couch. Everything was so quiet, I was worried. “Jifgar,” I said, “is something wrong?"

“No, not wrong,” he said. “But the seasons are passing, and I need to make you aware of something.” He paused, and then sighed. “I am not sure what to say. But you are one of us now, and your body is grown. The cycle of life is turning. You are an adult."

All this is true, I thought, but I really didn’t understand. “Excuse me?” I said.

He sighed, frustrated. “All animals go through a cycle of birth, childhood and then adulthood. I have been watching you, and your healer tells me you are not sterile. Spring will come, and you will feel a change growing in you.” He paused again.

It had never occurred to me that the NalKuymal, like the four footed beasts they resembled, would experience a springtime urge. “What will happen to me?” I asked, now very much afraid I could act wildly, and embarrass others.

“Nothing bad; I see you are worried about that, Tarl,” he said kindly. “You will not get sick or die. You will be attracted to women outside the clan; you will want to share sex with someone.” He spoke blatantly now, since I now understood.

I seemed to see the truth of it inside my head. “What should I do?” I asked.

“Tarl, if you know of anyone who interests you, let me know. I would very much be happy if you found a mate and married her; your power and Talents are worth passing on.” Over the past six months, I had been instructed about the marriage orientation of the NalKuymal. It was very important for future generations, and to keep alliances strong between the clans. All else, as the saying goes, is an unnecessary treasure.

“Except for casual liaisons with old friends,” I said slowly, trying to think of what to say, “I’ve never really been interested in someone in particular. What if I don’t become interested?” I asked. “Can this season pass me by?"

“Not unless you’re sick or injured,” he said. “The healer tells me you’re in good health,” Zafra said. “I know you’ve only seen a few non-Eresha, but some of them aren’t married. So I had to ask.

“I would like you to postpone your leaving for a short while,” he said. “I know it is forward of me, but I am sending you to someone who can show you the ways of springtime.” He stood. “If you wish to, I can also send you to a man…"

“No clanleader; it’s all right. I see what you’re saying. This woman will instruct me?” Well, I knew that the groin of a NalKuymal man was quite different than a human somehow I shouldn’t be surprised.

“Yes, she will. I do not mean to offend; I know from my great-grandfather that your old people are … "

“Private about this sort of thing? Yes, but I’m an adult.” I said. “Is this common?"

“Yes, it is.” He smiled, relieved that I could talk as candidly with him.

“I have never been with a man, clanleader. Is it common among … our people?” I remembered the dogs of the neighborhood where I grew up. Boy dogs were as … friendly with one another as they were with girl dogs.

“Yes and no, in a way.” He cocked his head and thought about it. “It isn’t something we think about it; it can be very natural. Have you ever been interested in a man?"

It was an awkward question for me; I had always been taught that it was wrong to do so. Then I had met Cassandra, and there was nothing wrong with her. I had then realized that it couldn’t be… wrong, but just not for me. An encounter, a long, long time ago: a kiss behind the house, found out by my father…. I remembered the beating I had received. I had forgotten all about it for so long… talking about it had awakened it now. “Once, a very long while ago,” I simply said.

But he didn’t press me. “It is your choice,” he simply said “A relationship between men, after all, is not a marriage. Your choice. You should tell your friend, Lady Erin (Erin meant prophet, which was the translation for her name) about your plans; she may go with Skeohar if she wants. Their partnership, after all, was not just a friendship."

And I had to agree; Cassandra didn’t believe in those kinds of relationships.

Zafra nodded at me. “I will go for now; you may go back to the clanhall, and talk to your friend if they’re still there.” And he went to the door, and left.

Well, I had to talk to Cassandra; I had not thought about this turn of events. I’d been so busy thinking of learning and vengeance that I hadn’t considered my private life.

But she wasn’t at the great hall;I ended up just going to bed. I tried to imagine what an encounter with a NalKuymal woman might be like, but all I could do was dream of old friends… humans an elves (and the one dwarven mage from long ago). I fell asleep, frustrated. Would I ever do?

The next day, I explained to Cassandra, and Skeohar what I needed to know (mostly to her, for we had been candid with one another). She and he both agreed to come with me. “You need an escort,” she said playfully, “so you don’t get in trouble."

Ha-hah! Very funny!

I was told to police my house, so that it could be closed up for a time, and in case someone needed to borrow it. I packed up the clothes I did own, cleaned out the fire areas, both in the little miniature kitchen, and in the living room, and otherwise cleaned up. That took the entire day, and then I went to the stable, as the clanleader had told me, to receive a loan of a mount.

During the six months of my stay here, I had been taught and given the use of an opall. He was not mine, per se, but he was used to me. I was to keep him until I left the main island, and then he would be returned in the usual way to the hold.

Like all opalls, he had been chosen for me for my temperament, and he had colors appropriate to my own colors.

Because opalls ran to avoid predators, the usual scheme of being colored to hide from their pursuers was not necessary. In fact, some opalls were colored in a very bold and different way. Along with the usual black, grey, white, browns and etcetera, some were very, very different. Various shades of blue (like roan), crimson and orange, along with greens of various hue, and so forth. So the NalKuymal had bred some opalls to "wear"the same colors as their rider. It made for some interesting conversations, I am sure, except that most NalKuymal warriors never showed them outside their home. Mind you, my opalls was soot black and medium gray, but other combinations, like Skeohar’s blue and silver, and Cassandra’s very dark green and silvergrey, to match her own Talents of mind power and deadly prowess in battle (remember that green is the color of life and the violence that follows it). We made quite a trio as we left.

Zafra sent me with a letter which he let me read, that explained my personal situation and that, by some standards, I was a virgin, even though Kieran had been with many women already. I was still a bit uneasy about this rather matter of fact handling of such a personal subject, but realized that, like the wolf and the dog, NalKuymal were neither embarrassed nor ashamed of sex.

Neither was I, really, just not used to being so up front about it to someone I might know or not-know.

Zafra's son Korban told me that he wished he was going and I admitted I would be very happy if he did, too. He then gave me a canister of shredded jerky, and a canteen of cinnamon tea, and wished me well.

We rode almost the exact same way as Witar and I had six months ago, heading towards the rail I had been introduced to so long ago.

Cassandra explained that on her home world of before, this would be called a monorail (hmmm… made sense), but the elves, the NalKuymal and she did not really believe that people of THIS world would think of it as anything but magic, and probably treat it as such. Such wonders had been introduced to people of other worlds, and she had watched it create chaos. Many people, especially humans, tended to take advantage of such toys. Unfortunately, I agreed with Cassandra’s opinion.

I had seen magical ships that used no wind to sail, magic bubbles of steel that transported mages into the air and the outer space between worlds (it was how we knew that such existed). I had seen horseless carriages for the wealthy with their own pet mages, and I had seen the strange behavior it had generated a month the common folk, and the non-magical. Perhaps one day, attitudes might change. For now, it would be a bad idea.

We laid our opalls down and strapped them so that nothing might happen to them in an accident. And my coin pouch was opened and I paid for us three to go to Sehar monastary.

Cassandra, and indeed, Zafra, had explained the purpose of this place. Mind power, you see, was considered the gift of the only god the NalKuymal truly recognized, but did not worship. They believed, instead, that their god, who they called Sha, existed without measure everywhere, in everything and one, but not as a deity, or person or force one could discuss things with, nor argue with.

Instead, it was manifest as the forces and spirits that moved and arrested the worlds. The wind, the plants of all the worlds, animals, people, rock and stone… everything was a part of this god. So, instead of worshipping or sacrificing to their god, they lived their lives by certain rules they felt would preserve the worlds as they were already. They believed actually, that the power generated by the mind and body of each individual was one of the manifestations of this force. They also believed that by breeding for strength and power, by training these powers for their use, and by studying how they worked, and therefore discussing, how these abilities worked and the rightness or wrongness of their use in the world, they were doing the right thing. To facilitate better focus and contemplation during training, they also believed that they were creating a place where such powers could be better explored. Hence, the monastery at the top of this great mountain, where mental distractions and disturbances could be kept to a minimum.

The monastery was at the top of the original volcano that had created this archipelago at the beginning of creation on this world. As the caldera had cracked, clear rainwater had fallen for millennia into the resulting niche, creating a beautiful lake.

The monastery was school, library, and residence for mind warriors, philosophers, healers mind artists who created beauty without the use of their handsor physical tools, but also a special place they called Tekona, which meant Temple, if translated. It came from three words teyma (which meant respect), kota (which meant place), and na (which meant man/woman). It was a place which trained healers of intimate problems, therapists to deal with non medical problems, and a school to teach each how to please the other, whether a student or not.

That is where I was going.

On the monorail, we stopped each time we passed into a new territory. The main island was divided into nine territories: eight of them equally the same size, and the last was a smaller area that consisted of the beach I had landed on six months ago. Each territory was owned by a separate clan; these were the oldest and highest ranked of the NalKuymal.

Originally, on their first home world, these eight were considered the noble clans; others, less massive and younger, existed in smaller areas or in between the older clan areas. Now, here at their islands, the non-noble clans existed on some of the smaller islands that surrounded the main one, or on a larger island-continent they held on their current home: Erandi.

The monorail went around the entire main island, near the center mountain-once-volcano they called Sehar-Kzala. In the southwestern corner of the main island, the monorail split its track, and one part went over the ocean to this island-continent, but did not traverse it

The Eresha clan was the oldest of all the clans; the NalKuymal always were in these groups, like the wolfpack. The eight oldest were: the Eresha (which means Prophets of Sha), paler-skinned and tallest; the Jredhas (this means mystics), not quite medium-bronze and a bit shorter as a rule, and the Sehar (yes, like the mountain: it means far-seer in the language called Litaja) and was essentially the Jredhas’ sister-clan, and they were only separated by blood-line, mostly.

The Opall clan (horse-warriors) were darker still, a medium-bronze, and unlike the Eresha and Jredhas-Sehar, who had a range of hair colors from pale blonde to ebony, were mostly red haired or brown-to-black. They were also the average height of a NalKuymal: clearly shorter than the first three. The next clan were called the OwhreVysier (or wise-chasers) were a cross between the opall and the Jredhas-Sehar, and often looked as though they were made from the two other clans.

The Jakkar and the Shinkar were sisters of one another (hunter and spear-warriors, respectively), too; they were as tall as the Opall, but bigger as an average; these were carriers of axes and lances instead of the customary rapier or sabre. They were also the darkest ---black-black bronze and dark honey being the most common. Of course, every once in a while, because of the clan of their mother, a uncharacteristically darker or lighter clanmember would appear… diversity being the norm and not the exception.

The last of the clans was actually the most highly ranked: the Kuymal (which means greatwolf, of course). They had come from the Eresha, originally, but intermarried with the Jakkar and Shinkar for generations. The result was a shorter but finer-boned body type, less stockier than the Jakkar or Shinkar.

Millennia ago, before the NalKuymal had come to Erandi, they had started out as eight, plus separate clans: competing with one another for land, and food, intermarrying but still kept separate. A member of the Kuymal, named Elaer (which means stalwart) had a vision that a planet-wide disaster would be arriving, and were the NalKuymal not united as one group -- one great pack, as it were -- they would not survive it.

So he went to each clan, asked them to rally under him as leader, and act as one. Because the NalKuymal believed in visions and omens… at least most of them, the unification went off without nary a hitch. There was some fighting, but by and large, little. When it was all over, the NalKuymal (actually, the Xlel or the people) were eight clans, plus some others, united as one great wolfpack. The Kuymal clan became the leader-clan, and the first born son of Elaer reigned as leader after him, in an unbroken line for many millenaia

Even though the NalKuymal had been separated from their people by a dimensional disaster, so that they could never go home, they preferred to live as they had always done. So, they decided to have a proxy ruler from the same ruler-clan, who would reign and rule until that day, if it came, when they might be reunited with their far-distant cousins a dimension away. Well! Now you know.

Because every NalKuymal did things clan by clan, at each border, there was a monorail station. From the beach, on the eastern shore, the clans were laid out thus: OwhreVysier, Sehar, the Eresha, Jredhas opall, Jakkar, Kuymal, and Shinkar: in a huge wheel around the central volcanic mountain. Around the main island, once a part of it, were eight smaller islands.

I know this is a lot of information for one person to get all at once, but it’s only given so you understand where we went. Each new territory we passed, we were allowed to offload our opalls for a walk and privy break, as it were. We, too, were allowed a moment to stretch our legs and get a meal, if we wanted one. Although there were no markets near the stations, there was an abundance of wildlife, and the three of us, along with others who got on at other stations, had no problem finding something good to eat, using our own native hunting skills. I found that if I didn’t really think about it, I was good enough not to go hungry. It is important to note that each clan also had no problem with non-clanmembers hunting on their land (thought you should know. It does not bode well to presume).

Skeohar had one of the larger wolves, called a Kuymal (funny about that) and the fourfooted square-jawed eating machine didn’t mind cleaning up what we didn’t eat. The wolf-dog’s name was Tnagila, which meant blue, and probably referred to his blue eyes, although Skeohar's main color was also blue. Funny about that, too.

When we got to the Kuymal border, we got off the monorail, and travelled by “horseback” to the base of the great mountain. ?we then got on another rail, and went up the mountain itself. The first trip had taken an entire day; the second went a bit slower, for the second rail went a bit more slowly. We went higher than I had ever been, but Skeohar told me that the original Sehar mountain, for which this one was named, was so tall than it took a person two full weeks by foot and horseback to get to the top. As it was, this would take us two days. I asked Skeohar how he knew when he had never been to their original home, and he told me he believed the stories told to him as a boy. And why wouldn’t he? NalKuymal didn’t conceive of lying; it just wasn’t done.

We were left at the highest accessible plateau. We got back on our opalls, and rode around the wildness until we got to our destination. It was even bigger and more than I had been told about, and so much more than I had ever expected.

The building complex we faced was partly carved from the mountain itself, but it was also built of stone and wood. It jutted out of the rockface as a great wheel. Like all NalKuymal buildings, it was decorated with the symbols of good luck and fortune that they had brought with them from another star: water symbols, animals of fertility and plenty, wolves (of course; as their symbolic ancestors, since they looked like their fourfooted friends).

TBC