Chapter 4 The Endless Field
Wataru continued walking in the direction he had been shown. Suddenly, and dramatically, the deep forest changed.
“Whoa!”
Before him stretched a vast field—a sea of grass as far as the eye could see. It seemed to stretch all the way to the horizon.
A refreshing breeze washed over Wataru’s face as he stood gazing out on the waving grass. Here and there, bleached rocks jutted out from the greenish towers. Here and there, the grassland dipped and rolled with little hills and valleys. In other places it was dull and flat. The sheer distance he could see was breathtaking.
—Walk toward the rising sun.
So had Wayfinder Lau instructed him. Only one sun rose in Vision’s sky, and it was quite similar to the one in the real world, except that you could look straight at it and not risk hurting your eyes. It wasn’t very bright. Wataru remembered that in Saga I, there were two suns. The story went that one of the suns burned too hot, until it threatened to destroy the very world. Not a problem here.
Wataru walked out into the field. There were no roads to speak of. Nor could he hear any birdsong. Occasionally he would spot insects, like tiny white moths, that would flutter about him. But otherwise, he had no other companions.
For a while the pleasant view lifted his spirits, but as he walked through the seemingly endless plains, he began to realize the harsh reality—or perhaps here he should say the fantasy—of his situation.
I’m going to be walking forever. I have no other means of transportation. No car, no train. Nothing to rely on but my own two legs.
Well, he thought, hoping to cheer himself up, every RPG I’ve ever played begins with the main characters walking. It didn’t work. Games were games. When he played the last dungeon of Saga II with Katchan, their characters had to walk forever through treacherous terrain, but the hero never said, “I’m tired.” Wataru and Katchan, for their part, were sitting on the floor, or lying on their sides, drinking as much cola and juice as they pleased.
The thought of a cold drink made him suddenly thirsty. It occurred to him that, though the Wayfinder had given him a lunch, he hadn’t said anything about drinks. Wataru had to find a source of water, a river, or a lake. And he had to find one soon.
He walked on a while, and when he felt he’d gone a substantial distance, he looked back over his shoulder. The forest was still close behind him, looming thick over the grassland. How depressing. I must walk slower than I thought.
He continued on in silence with no one to talk to. The sun beat down hard and hot on the unchanging field. Wataru was sweating. He forced himself to keep up the pace by counting steps, one, two, three. This seemed to help. It occurred to him that part of his unease was because he was unable to count the passing of time with any accuracy. Then again, he hadn’t wondered what time it was once since his arrival in this world. It didn’t seem to matter.
When he’d counted nearly a thousand steps, he spotted a small, round copse of trees ahead and to the left. It was as though someone up in the sky had gathered a bundle of trees and stuck them straight into the ground. The cluster of trees seemed very tall above the flat of the plain.
Wataru stopped and wiped the sweat off his forehead with a hand, and began to walk toward the woods. He counted his steps again, starting over with one. With trees growing like that, he thought, there might be water—a sort of oasis in this desert of grass.
Water…water…cool water. He repeated the words to himself like a mantra, approaching the oasis, until at last he saw something like a roof poking out between the trees. He caught a glimpse of tiles as the tree branches swayed in the wind off the grasslands. Somebody must live there.
At about fifty paces away from the stand of trees, Wataru noticed a thin line of white dust rising on the horizon. He stared at it, and saw that it was moving from right to left, a little at a time. In fact, it seemed to be coming this way, heading for the oasis.
Wataru ran for the copse. As he drew nearer, he could hear leaves blowing in a stiff wind. There, in the middle of the trees, he could see a low wall of round stone, above which hung a bucket on a rope. A well! It really is an oasis. At least, he thought it was a well. It was Wataru’s first time seeing the real thing. He walked over to the rim and looked down to see water glimmering in the half-light below.
The tiled roof stood above it, supported by four sturdy wooden posts. Probably to keep rainwater out, Wataru thought, if it ever does rain here in Vision.
Wataru drew water from the well, and putting his lips to the edge of the bucket, he drank in deep gulps. It was cool and delicious. A loud sigh of relief escaped his lips. Heedless of the water dribbling down the front of his shirt, Wataru continued to drink and drink.
Catching his breath and looking around, Wataru noticed red fruits resembling tomatoes lying on the ground. They appeared to have fallen from the trees around the well. Most were overripe and squashed by the fall.
Wataru picked one up and sniffed. Sweet, a little tangy. Seems edible.
Wataru gazed up at the trees, but the branches were all high off the ground, and the trunks were perfectly smooth. He had never been one for climbing trees much anyway.
He thought for a while and then began gathering a few palm-size rocks. Taking one in his right hand, he threw it up at the branches, trying to knock down some of the fruit that had yet to fall. Wataru had played enough catchball that he had a pretty good aim.
His efforts soon met with success. Picking up one of the fallen fruits and brushing off the dirt, he carefully took a bite. Tastes like a tomato too. But it was a far richer, juicier fruit than any tomato Wataru had seen at the supermarket. Wataru was starting to wonder if all the fruit in Vision tasted so delicious.
Even better, if he gathered enough of these, he wouldn’t be thirsty—or hungry—on his journey. Wataru continued picking up the fruit. He was so absorbed in aiming and throwing rocks, that when a dusty wind blew through the wood along with the sound of hooves it took him entirely by surprise.
“Oy! Ooooy! You there!”
Someone riding on a drawn carriage was approaching the woods, waving his arm in Wataru’s direction. The voice was loud and carried well in the dry air. Wataru ran to the edge of the woods, and shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun with one hand, he looked out over the glimmering green grassland. The dust line he had seen before must have originated from this carriage, he realized. Odd that so much dust would come up from this grassland.
Then Wataru noticed the road. Maybe it’s the road to Gasara!
The carriage-like thing had slowed down, no longer kicking up dust. As it came closer, Wataru noticed something quite odd. The covered carriage was the same as anything you might see in an old Western movie, but what was pulling it wasn’t exactly a horse. It was—what is that thing?
The creature pulling the carriage looked like a cow, but its neck was far too long. Two horns grew from its forehead. It was large, with silken gray fur, and enormous hooves that spread out at the bottom like a pair of bell-bottom jeans.
“Oy! You there! Don’t eat too many o’ those baquas now, y’hear?”
The person riding on the carriage drew in the reins, and the vehicle came to a stop nearby. “Darbabas love ’em, I know. Ah, they’re sweet as can be. But not for people folk. Eat too many o’ those and yer stomach’ll tie itself into all sorts of knots.”
Wataru dropped the half-eaten fruit in his hand. The driver laughed out loud and stepped out of his carriage. “Still, that’s no reason to waste what you’ve got already. They’re not poisonous, mind you. And they are delicious, eh? Maybe I’ll help meself to one o’ them ’fore I let my darbaba at ’em. Hrmm…”
Wataru stood with his mouth open, shaking.
It’s a lizard!
The man driving the carriage pulled by the long-necked cow was a lizard. He stood about six feet tall, and his skin was covered in dun scales. Fishing up one of the fruits from the ground, he wiped it off and began to munch at it noisily. Sharp teeth glinted in his mouth. He looked exactly like one of the monsters in the Saga series—the Lizard-Men—so much so that were he holding a sword, Wataru wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference.
“What is it, boy? Something on my face?”
The lizard-man walked over, smiling broadly. Wataru took a step back. The driver tilted his neck and scratched thoughtfully at his cheek with his hooked claws. “Hrm, what’s wrong, scared of something? You sure are a small one, aren’t you? Alone, eh? Your pa around?”
Wataru thought to answer, but his tongue caught in his mouth.
“Where did you come from, little one?” The lizard-man asked kindly, munching one of the red fruits as he spoke. “Wouldn’t expect to see refugees from the Empire out in a backwater like this…you’re an ankha, right? First time meeting a waterkin, is it?”
Wataru swallowed noisily, and managed to say in a strained voice, “Y-yyou’re a waterkin?”
“In the flesh!” the lizard-man replied. As he talked, he gathered up more of the fruit in his big hands and fed them to the long-necked cow. The cattlething made a mooing sound and worked its massive jaw. It seemed happy.
“A-and I’m an…ankha?” Wataru asked, pointing at himself.
“Of course you are. First race made by the Goddess. That’s why you look so much like her. Didn’t they teach you that in school?” the lizard-man said, baring his teeth. That must be a grin, Wataru hoped.
Wataru thought. These “ankha” the lizard-man was talking about must be the name for the race that look like humans in this world. That meant that Wayfinder Lau was an ankha too. So there were other races in Vision.
“Th-that animal…”
“My darbaba? What, first time seeing one of them too? Don’t be frightened, they’re gentle as can be. He loves it when you rub him behind the ears.”
The darbaba was happily munching away, baqua juice dripping from the corner of its mouth, getting an ear-rub from the driver. He adjusted the short leather kilt around his waist, and peered again at Wataru.
“If you’ve not seen a darbaba before, boy, then you must be from the Empire. I hear they don’t use livestock to pull carriages there. Why, once a traveling merchant bought five head off o’ me, said he’d bring ’em up to the city and charge people just to look at ’em. Course I heard he went bankrupt a few months later, but still.”
Wataru wondered about this Empire the lizard-man was talking about. So there’s more than one country in Vision.
“If we’re not in the Empire here,” Wataru began, “where are we? Does this place have a…”
He was going to ask if it had a name, but he stopped halfway. Wataru gaped. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
What are these words coming out of my mouth? It’s not Japanese. It’s not even English. I’ve never heard this language before in my life.
Yet he spoke without difficulty and seemed quite fluent. He had no difficulty understanding the lizard-man’s speech, either.
“Somebody must’ve switched my head on me when I wasn’t looking,” Wataru muttered to himself. “I’ve become one of them, one of the people of Vision. Like someone cast a spell on me.”
The darbaba mooed plaintively for more baqua, and the lizard-man obliged with what seemed to be a bemused expression on his face. Although, to be honest, Wataru wasn’t exactly sure what kind of expression was on his face. The lizard-man’s eyes were set on either side of his nose and his mouth was hanging half open. His sharp teeth glistened brightly in the sun.
As Wataru stood frozen, trying to think of something to say, a long tongue slipped out of the lizard-man’s mouth. It looped around in a wide arc and licked the very top of the lizard-man’s head. Wataru stiffened, but, not wanting to appear rude, stopped himself from stepping back.
“Well, this is a surprise,” the lizard-man hissed through large, sharp teeth. “Don’t often see ignorance on this scale in a—wait, you wouldn’t happen to be a Traveler now, would you?”
Wataru nodded slowly.
“You are! You are?!”
The lizard-man lifted his scaly arms and clapped his massive hands together. Then, with a surprisingly fast motion he strode over to Wataru and embraced him.
“Whoa! What’re you doing?”
Wataru’s feet dangled almost three feet off the ground. The lizard-man had muscles befitting his size. Lifting Wataru seemed to require no effort at all. It was like getting a hug from a pro wrestler.
The lizard-man seemed overjoyed. With squinting eyes he lifted Wataru high into the air, and began to jump around like he was doing a little dance.
“Happy, happy! When I woke up this morning, I knew something good would come of the day, but little did I know! To meet a Traveler, this is a joy beyond joys! What a lucky fellow am I!”
Tossed about like a rag doll, Wataru felt like his eyes might spin out of his head. “Uh, er, excuse me,” he gasped. “My stomach—I think it’s going to fly out of my mouth.”
“Very sorry, boy,” said the lizard-man, bringing Wataru back to earth. “Well, Mr. Traveler, tell me, when did you come to Vision? You’re headed for the Goddess’s tower, no? Or perhaps you have some other destination in mind?”
Wataru rubbed his temples with his fingers. He was pleased to see that his head hadn’t been entirely warped by the shaking. “I’ve only just arrived yesterday. This morning I left the Wayfinder’s village, and I’ve been walking in these grasslands ever since. I came here looking for water…”
“I see, yes, I see. A new Traveler, are you now? That explains why you know so little. Where were you headed?”
“I thought I would head to the town of Gasara—where the Wayfinder told me to go. He said if I didn’t get lost, I’d get there just after noon.”
“Gasara? Then I’m afraid you have gotten lost. It’s not far, true, but you’re well off the path. On your legs, I don’t think you’d make it there before sunset.”
Wataru frowned. He had walked toward the sun, just as he was told. Where could he have gone wrong?
The lizard-man grinned, baring his fangs. “It’s okay, don’t worry. I’ll take you to Gasara. Ride in my carriage, and we’ll be there while the sun is still high in the sky. That darbaba you see over there, he’s the surest and swiftestfooted of my lot. Name’s Turbo.”
Swiftest?? To Wataru, the creature looked like he was sleeping on his feet. Oh well, a free ride would be welcome—no matter how fast or slow the pace. On cue, Turbo made another friendly mooing noise.
“My name’s Wataru.”
“Wataru? My name’s Keema, but, well, you see it’s a rather popular name among us waterkin, so most add on my middle name too, so as not to confuse me with someone else.”
“So, what should I call you?”
“Kee Keema,” he replied, enunciating carefully. “The first syllable, you pronounce that about a half tone higher than the second part. Else it sounds like a girl’s name, see?”
Kee Keema. Wataru tried saying it, practicing the pronunciation several times. It wasn’t a particularly difficult thing to say, which somehow made it hard to mimic exactly. At about the twentieth try, Kee Keema scratched his head. “On second thought,” he said, “let’s not worry about my name, eh? We’ve got better things to do, places to go!”
“Sorry…”
“Don’t let it bother you. That seventeenth time, just then, that was headed in the right direction.”
Kee Keema rose lightly to his feet and prepared to set off. Wataru hesitated. “But, Kee Keema, I’d feel bad just riding along with you. Don’t you have work? I wouldn’t want to get in the way…”
Kee Keema waved his hands, hooked claws and all. “Who cares about work! Once I tell my boss I met a Traveler, why he wouldn’t be mad at me over a little detour.”
“What’s so great about meeting a Traveler?”
“Why, it’s the best, most happiest thing that could ever happen to a fellow!” Kee Keema shouted, swinging his arms wildly. He began dancing again. “Frankly, I can’t quite believe my own fortune! When I was a wee one, they used to tell me that Grandpa came across a Traveler once on the outskirts of Takio Town, and right after that he had himself a windfall trading mining stocks. Why, my own Pop went out looking for Travelers once, spent months searching and couldn’t find a thing. So here I come along, thinking to wet Turbo’s throat at the well here, and who do I meet but you!”
So people from Wataru’s world were like omens of good luck. That made sense, considering Travelers could come only once every ten years. Meeting one would be a rare thing indeed.
Kee Keema helped Wataru scramble up into the darbaba carriage. He sat by the waterkin’s side. The bench had been fashioned from a single plank of hard wood, and couldn’t exactly be called comfortable. But compared to walking across the endless grasslands, it felt like a seat in paradise.
“Now you’ll want to tie your waist to the baggage cart with that leather strap there,” Kee Keema cautioned. “I’m used to it so I’m fine, but when Turbo really gets going, the carriage, she rocks a bit.”
Then with a loud and crisp hyah! and a quick snap of Kee Keema’s whip, they were off. Turbo gave a low bellow and steam arose from his nostrils, reminding Wataru of his mother’s favorite pressure cooker.
“That’s right, Turbo’s feeling it now!”
Half of Kee Keema’s words fell short of Wataru’s ears as Turbo launched into motion and the hard seat below Wataru’s rear suddenly transformed into a trampoline. If he hadn’t been holding on so tightly, he would have been bumped up and out and deposited on the ground right then.
“Hang on!” Kee Keema shouted, grabbing Wataru by the collar and pulling him back to the seat. “Don’t be jumping around like that. Stick out your legs, put little a strength in yer gut.”
“I’m tr-trying,” Wataru stuttered, barely able to catch his breath for all the jostling. He was being tossed about like a lottery ping-pong ball, afraid to talk for fear he would bite off his tongue. Every time he tried to grab something to hold on to he clutched empty air. It wasn’t just bouncing up and down either. They lurched to the right, then the left, and sometimes curved through the high grasses at an angle so steep Wataru feared they might tip.
“Can’t you slow down a little?”
Suddenly, Wataru found himself in the air, his arms and legs flailing uselessly. Then he was landing on Kee Keema’s shoulders, until he was riding the lizard-man piggyback.
“Ha ha!” Kee Keema laughed with his mouth wide open. “You’re welcome to sit up there if you like, Traveler Wataru!”
“N-n-no I c-couldn’t! R-really, I-I’ll get off. I’m t-too heavy…”
“Nonsense! Yer light as a feather.”
“But, but, but…” But he couldn’t get off even if he wanted to. The waterkin’s skin looked just like a lizard’s, but it wasn’t slippery at all. Rather it was a dry and sturdy, and his neck was just the right size for grasping onto for dear life.
Wataru found himself wondering how many years it had been since he last rode on his father’s shoulders. His father wasn’t a big sturdy man like Kee Keema, but riding up there, Wataru always felt secure. He would bounce and his father would get angry at him, saying he was too heavy—but Wataru knew he didn’t really mean it. Or did he? Was I too heavy all those years?
Wataru looked up. Now that he didn’t have to be so worried about falling off at any moment, he could enjoy the scenery a little. As far as he could see everything was grass, glowing like a green saucer catching the sun’s light. The thing like a road Wataru had seen in the distance now seemed to be more of the path worn by the passing of darbaba carriages. It narrowed and widened, at times twisting like a snake, at times lying straight like a white line across the grass, shooting toward the horizon.
The air was a little gritty, but the feel of the wind on his face and in his hair was exhilarating. Wataru breathed deep and felt like shouting at the top of his lungs for no reason at all.
“Fast, isn’t he?” Kee Keema shouted, turning his head so his voice wouldn’t be entirely lost in the wind.
“Amazing!”
“Raised this one from a baby, I did. Best runner in Nacht, or me name’s not Kee Keema!”
Are we in Nacht now? Is that a country?
“Kee Keema, do you think you could tell me some things about Vision?”
“Sure. But, you should know I dropped out of school kinda early, so I might not be able to teach you very good.”
“You were talking about an empire before, right?” Wataru asked. “That’s in a different place from here?”
“That it is. And a good thing too.”
Kee Keema explained that, back before time flowed in an orderly fashion, the land of Vision was born from a swirling rainbow sea. It was the Goddess who first reached down and drew the new land from the waters.
“And this goddess is the same one that Travelers go to see in the tower? The Goddess of Fate?”
“Think so. But no one knows the truth of it. No one’s met the Goddess, you see—we don’t even know quite where she is. We only know there’s a place called the Tower of Destiny, somewhere, and that’s her home. It’s a legend.”
“A legend…”
It seemed odd to Wataru to find that this land that was something like legends and myths and a fantasy world all jumbled into one would have legends of its own.
“Does this goddess have a name?”
“That, I don’t know. Most of the races consider calling her by name a taboo. They don’t teach it in school, and I’m sure no scholar would dare try to research it. But, we waterkin have an old word for the Goddess, it’s Upa de shalba. Means “the one who is beautiful like the light,” he said.
One as beautiful as the light. An image of Venus, the goddess of beauty, rose in Wataru’s mind. Whatever she really looked like, she was certainly kind. She would have to be if she really sat in the tower waiting for Travelers to arrive and then honored them with any wish they desired.
“There are two great lands, continents, in Vision,” Kee Keema began to explain. Turbo had slowed somewhat, until he was trotting amiably along.
“One in the north, and one in the south. They’re about the same size, but that’s where the similarities end. Down in the southern lands, we’ve got mountains aplenty, and the seasons bring all sorts of weather. It’s warm though, so there’s lots of animals and greenery. They say the northern continent is covered in ice and snow for near half the year.”
The two continents, he explained, were separated by a vast sea. And this sea, he said, was shrouded in a thick, nearly impenetrable mist.
“It’s hard to see much in that mist, so not a whole lot is known about the open sea. The sailors say there’s a cluster of tiny islands right between the northern continent and the south, but no ships sent out to find ’em have ever returned. Now, some say that right where those islands are, that’s where you’ll find the Tower of Destiny, but if you ask me they’ve got it all wrong. Those islands are where the monsters and villains and enemies of the Goddess are bound in chains. A prison colony, it is.”
Wataru just hoped the Tower of Destiny wasn’t in such a hard-to-get-to place. “But you can travel between the two continents, right?”
“Of course you can. There are several known trade routes between the two lands, and merchant sailships ride them pretty often. Sailships ride the waves by the power of the wind, you see. Of course, when there is no wind to be had, they don’t move. That’s why it’s so important to know just how much wind you need for how many days to cross by a certain route, and knowing when that wind’s going to blow, well, that’s the most important thing of all.”
Kee Keema explained that the ones in charge of foretelling the winds were called “starseers.”
“They can tell which way and how hard the winds can blow just by reading the stars, see—thus the name. And knowing about the wind isn’t their only job. Why, they know all sorts of things about the world. They’re virtual treasure houses of information. Should you need anything on your travels, you might try asking one of them a question. The largest towns’ll have at least one set up in a fancy old Seerhall. You’ll find it in no time.”
“So we’re on the southern continent? It must be, with grass like this.”
“Exactly!” Kee Keema said brightly. “Nacht is one of the United Southern Nations, you see.”
There were four of these smaller countries on the southern continent, Wataru soon learned: Nacht, Bog, Sasaya, and Arikita, along with a place with the rather convoluted—to Wataru’s ear—name of the “Special Administrative State of Dela Rubesi.” All of them together formed a sort of Republic. Lacking a notebook, Wataru repeated the words inside his head. Nacht, Bog, Sasaya, Arikita. He couldn’t remember ever being this interested in social studies class.
“Speaking generally, Nacht is a country of agriculture and livestock. Most of it is flat plains in the southernmost part of the southern continent. On the opposite side, next to the ocean, is Bog, land of merchants. Sasaya, then, is a haven for scholars. Just about every starseer goes there once in his lifetime to study. Arikita is the most industrious of the southern nations. Lots of mines there too.”
“What about this Special Administrative State of Dela Rubesi place?”
Kee Keema tilted his head. Instead of an answer, he asked a question. “What sort of gods do you pray to, Wataru?”
“Gods? Um…” Wataru hesitated. He hadn’t ever really thought about God, or gods, before. “I’m not really sure. Maybe my mom could tell you.”
“What, is she a priest?”
Wataru laughed. “No, but, my grandpa in Chiba’s grave is at a temple that belongs to some sect or other. I’m really not sure…”
“Hrm? A sect you say? What’s that?”
Kee Keema let go of the reins with his right hand and scratched at his lip with a crooked nail. It was the exact same gesture Katchan would make when the teacher asked him a question at school and he didn’t know the answer.
Wataru wondered how old Kee Keema was. His body was quite large, but it occurred to him he might be younger than he looked.
Who knows? The waterkin may age differently than us—than the ankha, I mean.
“There are many different peoples living in the southern lands, you see, but they all pray to the Goddess of the Tower.”
When Kee Keema spoke about the Goddess, his tone became very serious. “Why, she was the one who made this world. She started it all. In a way, the Goddess is like our mother.”
But, he went on to explain, there were some in Vision who thought differently.
“Some people say that she didn’t make the world at all—that some other god made the world, and she’s just watching it for ’im.”
“Watching the world?”
I don’t suppose a world is the kind of thing you can just throw in a coin locker and forget about.
“So somewhere there’s a god that’s even more powerful than the Goddess?”
“More powerful…or just older. That’s why they call him the Old God.”
He explained that the Special Administrative State of Dela Rubesi was formed of people who believed in the Old God as Creator. In some ways, it was more of a church than a nation.
“Right in the middle of the southern continent is a high plateau, the Undoor Highland, and that’s where you’ll find Dela Rubesi. The people who live there don’t mingle much with us low-landers. They grow all their own food—or so we have to assume, since they never trade for it. Truth be told, no one knows much about them. They don’t let in outsiders, you see.”
“So what do these people who worship the Old God think of the Goddess?”
“What do they think? Not much, frankly. To them, the Old God is much more important. When the apocalypse comes to our world, and the end is near, they say the Old God will come again and bring order to the world.”
“What does everybody else think about this? What would you think, Kee Keema?”
“Hrm…well, I don’t know much about history,” Kee Keema said, avoiding the subject. “But I know about the Old God, because they tell you all about him when you’re a child. They say he’s a god from way way back. We waterkin call the Old God Il-da Yamyamro, which means the One Who Brings Order to Chaos.”
“The One Who Brings Order to Chaos.” Cool name.
“’Course, since the Empire came together ’bout three hundred years back, no one just believes in the Old God anymore. You’re either a true believer in ’im, or a follower of the Goddess, and never the twain shall meet.”
He explained that the northern continent used to be made up of tiny city-states, like the southern continent, with many different races mingling together.
“My grandpa used to talk about how it was so cold up there, and the land was bare, and the mines were stripped—that’s why they spent so long fighting each other.”
The northern continent had starseers too, but they had been too distracted by the war that their knowledge hadn’t advanced to the point of their southern fellows. Without the skill to read the winds, they were unable to cross the waters easily—sparing the rich lands of the southern continent from invasion.
“Until about a hundred years after unification, when our sailships first started making the passage north, we had no idea what it was like up there. That’s what I heard from my Grandpa, and he heard it from his parents when he was just a wee one.
“When at last there was the signing of a trade agreement between the United Southern Nations and the Northern Empire, the South had to agree to an odd sort of promise: we would teach only the history of the North beginning with the Empire’s creation. That’s why, to this day, in the schools of the South, world history begins only three hundred years ago.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Wataru said, a bit too loudly, and he threw up his arms, forgetting his precarious position on top of Kee Keema’s shoulders. He toppled off and was caught only at the last moment by a quick grab by Kee Keema’s strong fingers.
“Watch it, there,” Kee Keema growled, dragging Wataru back up to his shoulders. “Wouldn’t want me good luck charm to get run over by me darbaba. That’d curse me to the end of my days for sure.”
Far across the grassland, Wataru spotted another clump of trees. “We’re ’bout halfway there,” Kee Keema said, pulling on the reins. “How’s about we take a rest at that oasis, hrm?”
Instead of a well, this stand of trees had a small spring surrounded by stones, from which clear water bubbled and burbled in an ever-flowing stream. Wataru cupped some in his hands and tasted it. It was sweet.
“I’m famished! Aren’t you? Let’s eat.”
Wataru sat down by the spring and spread the package he had received from the Wayfinder on his knees. Meanwhile, Kee Keema brushed down Turbo, then went back to his carriage. Thrusting his hands beneath the cover, he pulled out something that looked like a slab of some dried meat.
“What’s that?” Wataru asked, craning his neck to see, when he saw with horror that the thing in Kee Keema’s hands had two eyes shining a violent shade of red. Kee Keema’s jerky had a face.
“This? Dried n’bara. Best thing on the road,” the waterkin said, licking his lips and taking a big bite out of the thing’s side.
Wataru swallowed the bile he felt rising in his throat, and steadied himself. Though it was hard to tell from its current desiccated state, he figured the n’bara was a small animal that looked something like an extremely ugly raccoon.
So the waterkin are carnivores.
Wataru noted this new fact in his head, and quietly ate his bread. Kee Keema finished the n’bara jerky in three bites, and began picking fruit from the trees around the spring. Crunching one between his teeth, he offered another to Wataru. “Mako berries! They’re a little on the sour side, but they won’t mess with your stomach like baquas. Careful not to get any of the juice on yer shirt, ’cause you won’t be able to get it out later.”
Wataru was reminded again of the importance of knowing what you could and couldn’t eat around here. He would have to learn a lot if he was going to be able to travel in this place alone. He was incredibly fortunate to have met someone like Kee Keema so soon after beginning his journey. Wataru was determined to learn as much as he could before they parted ways.
First things first, though. Back to the history lesson. Wataru begged Kee Keema to continue. The waterkin gave a satisfied belch, and raised an eyebrow. “What were we talking about again?” His long tongue lashed out and licked the top of his head. “Oh right, the northern continent, unification thereof. Well before unification, the Empire was just another small country in the North, a land of ankha.”
Three hundred years before, this small country had tenaciously clung to victory through a long series of wars, and proceeded to slowly unify the entire continent.
“That’s when the first emperor, Gama Agrilius I, arrived on the scene, saying his family was directly descended from the old God. And the Goddess who said she received the world from the old God—the Goddess that we pray to—they said she was of a lower rank than even their own ancestors. She wasn’t even qualified to rule our world, they claimed, but she had deceived the old God and tried to steal the world away from its rightful owners: House Agrilius. Can you believe it?”
And that wasn’t all.
“When I first picked you up, remember I told you that the ankha were the first race created by the Goddess, and that’s why they look so much like her? Well Gama Agrilius I, he said that was a pack of lies. The ankha don’t look like her, he said, they look like the Old God. After all, according to them, he’s the one who made the world.”
This new emperor went on to claim that the true form of the Goddess wasn’t anything like the ankha at all, but was a crude, aged thing too horrible to bear looking at.
“That’s why she doesn’t tell us her name, and that’s why she hides in the Tower where none can see her. Because, if we could see her, then we’d know the truth. That’s what they say, anyhow.”
Wataru folded up his lunch while Kee Keema continued with his story. The lizard-man’s face was drawn tight.
“Like I said, the lands to the north knew war for years, and the people there lived on the brink of starvation. Oh, they had to struggle terribly just to stay alive. Gama Agrilius I, he said the endless wars, and the lack of food, were all the fault of the Goddess. See, she visited plague and hardship on the ankha because she resented them. She’d rather have ugly, twisted things, like her, to take their place. The long and the short of it was, the Goddess was trying to exterminate the ankha, and it was up to them to fight back.”
Kee Keema tilted his head and blinked slowly, deep in thought. “What happened next I can hardly believe. The ankha living in the northern lands—not only the emperor’s family, but them that lived in the other smaller countries as well—they all ate it up, every last word! Oh, they clapped and shouted and cheered him for saying it.”
There were many different races living in the northern lands, Wataru learned, but of them the ankha were by far the most numerous.
“They joined together and started exterminating the other races, and they were strong, real strong. If you lived in the northern lands and you weren’t an ankha, your house and fields’d be taken away, you’d be killed, or thrown in a camp and made a slave. The number of non-ankha dropped by the day. And then, the ankha had their glorious empire.”
It was clear to Wataru now why Kee Keema had said he was glad to have been born in the south.
“Now, three hundred years since unification, they say there’s hardly anything but ankha living in the north. If there are any other kinds left, why, you can bet theirs ain’t an easy lot. It’s enough to make you cry.”
It didn’t take much imagination to conclude that the Empire would like nothing better than to invade the southern continent with the excuse of strengthening ties with their kinfolk in Dela Rubesi. Then they would proceed to make an empire of the south as they had in the north, Kee Keema said glumly. “But, these three hundred years, not a single high priest of Dela Rubesi has made the slightest motion toward joining House Agrilius’s empire. They seem content to live in seclusion up in the mountains, with no ties to the world below. Us nonbelievers here don’t even know what the high priest looks like.”
The Northern Empire couldn’t make ties with Dela Rubesi if the latter had no contact with the outside world.
“We in the United Southern Nations are careful how we deal with Dela Rubesi and the believers, though. Wouldn’t want to rile ’em up and give ’em cause to look for friends to the north, if you get my meaning. That’s why we agreed to their odd demands in the trade agreements, so as not to provoke them and give them reason to come storming into our territory. Aye, dealing with Dela Rubesi’s a bit like having a snake in your bed. You don’t want to kick it out or try to trap it because it might bite you. You just leave it alone.”
Wataru nodded slowly. The whole story sounded vaguely familiar—like maybe something of the sort had happened in his world—but whatever it was, they hadn’t learned it yet in social studies.
“When I came here,” Wataru said, “I was told that Vision was created by the imaginations of people—humans—living in my world. Maybe that’s why events here seem kind of familiar?”
Kee Keema scratched at his upper lip. “What’re hoomans?”
Wataru grinned. “Don’t worry about it. Thanks for telling me so much.”
“Right, then, let’s be off,” Kee Keema said with a smile. “The long and the short of it is, stay in the south and you’ll do fine. We know peace, here.”