Ogres and Ogresses Ch. 32

Zyra turned the dark seed in her hands. "How long do I have to do this?"

"Until you get it right. Sit here in this clearing and don't leave until that seed is growing."

Zyra rolled her eyes.

"Oh and Zyra?"

"What?"

Etaceh waved a hand and she fell to the ground.

"That's to make sure you don't leave. You grow the seed, you break my enchantment."

"Hey! No fair! I..."

Zyra's words were ignored as Etaceh strode away, a red smile on her face. Zyra realized she could stand, but she could only walk six paces in every direction. One direction was conveniently behind a tree, no doubt in case she needed to relieve herself.

"Stupid witches."

She lay on her back and looked up at the sky. That crystal blue, how sharp it seemed. So unfriendly. She closed her eyes and tried to see into herself. Where does it come from Zyra?

Here she was with no one to protect, no one to tell her what to do and not to do, no one but herself. Where did her strength come from when she wasn't protecting others? An image of her niece made her wince. Not now. Now was not the time for sadness. If she grew strong enough she could be done with this blasted place and return to where she belonged. But first, some searching.

Henna watched nervously as Thorn walked up to the border. Everything logical told her that she would be detected. While she had only heard stories of the place, it seemed pretty from a distance, but such beauty under such circumstances seemed sinister.

"Are you certain you can do what the Master has asked?"

Thorn, whom usually ignored her glanced at her from the corner of her dead eyes. Then glanced back forward.

"I'll...take that as a yes."

Creedon has told her to take Thorn to the border, but he had not told her why. He assured her that she would know what to do, but how could she now that she was a soulless shadow? Still, she was better off having faith in the Master's design, lest she end up just like Paj. The thought made her feel sick. She barely resembled the huntress anymore. She was just a thing.

Abruptly Thorn stopped. Jerking towards Henna she extended a hand.

"What?"

She said nothing, hand still out.

"What do you want?"

Henna tilted her head. "Do you want to give me something?"

Thorn nodded.

"Well where is it?"

Silence.

Maybe it was invisible? Henna put her hand on Thorn's and immediately a thorny vine wrapped around her wrist. She screamed in pain but could not pull away as a thorn bore the center of her palm. As soon as it began it was over and Henna fell to the floor, cursing Thorn down through her ancestors. Thorn strode forward, a series of red flowers blooming over her. The ex-Rovian looked down at her hand. There were no cuts or blood, merely a dark circle in the center of her palm. Thorn stepped over the border, rolled her shoulders, and disappeared.

River sighed. Mourabet had given him an immense load of chores to make up for the, "spectacle he had pulled." He was currently organizing and labeling potions, the dullest of the work.

He supposed he deserved it, but often he felt her smothering him. There were no male ogres who he could confide in, and being Kanusha's son made it worse. All they wanted was to apprentice him so that their own talents be praised. He had no interest in any man who would see himself fit to ride on the back of his father. Meela, his mother though always there was less in this world than the other, one that his sighted eyes could not see.

Her quiet smiles to herself, eyeing the distance made him wonder if she saw his father, somewhere in the spirit world. With Kail banished, Valor dead, and Mourabet a raging spinster secretly desperate for a mate, that left no one but his newfound playmate Talia, and...

A giggle interrupted him. His fiancée was eying him through the window. He snarled and she skittered away with a laugh, running back to her house. She was annoying. She just watched him, like a prize or something, never bothering to say hello or get to know him. Kaela looked at him like she owned him, and according to the Law, she supposed she did. Still, he didn't have to like it.

He bottled an ointment for sores and placed it next to the other seven hanging on the shelf. The red bottle drew his mind to the sight of the human woman. He didn't know they came in all colors. River assumed they'd all be similar like nymphs or just variations like the ogres. Centaurs had a diverse pallor, and so he supposed a centaur without horse body would look like a male human. A human woman however, was a delight to look upon. While Zyra was attractive, he knew she had been with his brother which soiled her for his fantasies. Mostly. Now he had a new fantasy, a fair, orange-headed vixen, whose fiery tresses whipped about her as she fled from his gaze.

Who was she? What was she doing so close to the border? The more he thought of her, the more his skin itched, and he desired to see her again. Had her eyes been green or blue? Was the bundle in her arms a baby or bread? Had she ever seen a thing such as him?

River's train of thought was interrupted by Mourabet storming in.

"Why the gall of her! To think I would be seduced! To think that I would fall!"

River rested on his arm. "Do I even want to know?"

"You are to stay away from the keromedio," Mourabet said stiffly. "She is a dangerous influence and I will not have you becoming like your brother."

River rolled his eyes and went back to his task. Mourabet's ranting soon slipped behind him as he thought of Talia the nymph and the Red human, fantasies that were his only companion. He had to see them again.

--

"You're getting better," Etaceh announced. "But you are far from ready. Dismissed!"

The sun was setting and after a long relentless day, Zyra was finished with her first lesson. After she had grown the seed, Etaceh had appeared and began relentlessly attacking her.

She all but limped away, every muscle in her body sore. It was her thighs that burned the most, from the constant pushing away Etaceh's power with her weak shield, before it would shatter and she'd sprawl on her back like one of Nima's dolls. The thought of her niece saddened her.

"Oh dear one. What will become of you?"

"Do you ssspeak of yourseeelf...or for another?"

Scallen rose out of an emerging shadow, his eyes glittering with mischief. "You appear to be in..disssstresss..."

"I am in pain yes."

"Poor thing."

Scallen stalked toward her and slowly wound himself around her, his arms slipping over her waist and his chin sitting in her neck. She stiffened when he hissed and his tongue flicked her ear.

"Why not take a bath? Or hasss your freedom lessened your ability to care for yourssself?"

"I've no desire to return to the Marble Tree," she snapped.

He tilted his head in amusement and she pushed him off. "Go home Scallen, I'm exhausted."

She couldn't hear him but she knew he was there following behind her. She was about to tell him to back off when a firm shove made her stumble into nothingness.

Screaming in terror, Zyra fell down the basilisk's hole hidden in the shadow. She landed in a stack of pillows but her body still ached from the exertion. She stood, bent over and swearing and heard Scallen join her, no doubt landing on his feet.

"Damn it Scallen! I want to go home!"

He didn't respond, instead the dark room filling with a warm glow. It was then she saw the room. She'd never been here before. It actually looked, homey. There was a makeshift bed of all types of animal furs in the corner, a chest on which sat necessities, a mirror, but most importantly shelves upon shelves of tomes. She'd seen some within the Marble Tree, but she'd never been so close to them. They'd never allowed her. She reached out, touching a red one and pulled it out. It was heavy. Opening it slowly she saw inside were thin things that could be turned to reveal more thin things, each with strange symbols on it.

"What is this place?"

Scallen came beside her and took the tome. He glanced over the front.

"Ora..ss...tion, of the Hypocryphal Sssciencesss...what possessed you to choossse thiss?"

Zyra grabbed the front, her eyes wide.

"What does it say? You can read this scribble?"

"That sscribble isss our language...the one we ssspeak is written here..."

Zyra took the tome from his hands and glanced over it, her eyes trying to find any meaning.

"I do not understand."

Scallen gave her a look of pity and placed it down. "Of courssse you don't. Written language wasss forbidden by our people. Humansss can never be allowed written language becaussse it would be the ssstart of sss...civilization. You would rissse up again. Repopulate. Overtake nature, and the sss...cycle, would repeat. Your knowledge is your undoing. Our undoing..."

Scallen looked at Zyra's wide-eyed expression and her innocence made him feel shame. She had no idea what he was saying, why this admission was so powerful, or that understanding of it could alter her people's fate. Those words and thoughts had been lost in the Purge.

"But...what does it mean?"

Scallen gave her a sad smile. "It means I can read, and you cannot. Now, you must be hungry."

Zyra followed Scallen who was surprisingly solemn to another portion of the cave. She supposed those tomes must have great significance to the magic people. Yet, she could not recall Kail mentioning them, nor seeing any in the home of Meela. She wondered if that mattered.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the sweet smell of meat wafted up her nose. There on a small table on a large platter was her boar, cooked to perfection. The flaky outside, the slices showing the pink delicious inside. It had been gutted, butchered, and cooked like a master. She turned to Scallen.

"I must ask you to indulge with me."

Scallen chuckled, pushing a chair forward. "Do you think I did not already?"

Zyra was about to speak when what he ate already suddenly made sense and she forced herself to forget her revelation.

"Pull up a chair Scallen. It is time you eat well-seasoned Rovian meat."

She sat in the one he'd provided and he sat at the other end. Taking her knife, she cut her ample slice in half and shared. He took it and bit. She watched his expression but it was passive. It was only until he took another bite that she knew he had enjoyed it.

"sssZyra...your talents are indeed great."

"You as well."

Scallen stood and went to a basket and came back with a loaf of bread and a vial of berries. He took his own knife and made quick work of the loaf, and Zyra became overwhelmed. The first good food in...gosh how long had it been? She abandoned manners and began scarfing down the deliciousness, ripping the meat off the bone, not noticing the pair of green eyes staring at her in wonder. Her mouth full and hands clawing at the boar, she was startled when Scallen cleared his throat.

Embarrassed, she looked up and saw he had a goblet like those of the witches, in his hands a red liquid.

His smile stretched to his ears. "Wine?"

She would have said thank you but her mouth was too full. Abashed, she nodded and took it from him. The drink was unfamiliar to her, but it smelt of berries. Chewing quickly, she took a heady sip and was shocked by the taste.

"You have moonroot milk in this place? How came you by this?"

"That, dear girl, is a three-hundred year old Bordeaux, one of the few thingsss we kept of your culture. Though it was sssCirce who first introduced it to the Greeksss and thus the Romansss. That ssswill you distill from your yellow vegetable is nothing compared to thisss..."

Zyra smirked. "So what you're saying, is that you have tasted moonroot milk?"

Scallen rolled his eyes. "I have tasted anything that burnsss. Now drink."

"Hm."

She took another sip and sputtered. It was strong, but still less strong than a direct sip of moonroot. She had so many questions. This was a side of Scallen she had never seen.

"Those tomes—"

"Bookss."

"Those...books. What do they do?"

Scallen pushed the meat forward and she took another ravenous bite.

"They help me find thingsss when I don't know the anssswer."

"Could they help me? Find answers I mean."

" Whatever you wisssh to know, you can alwaysss asssk me."

Zyra took another sip starting to enjoy the drink.

"Okay tell me this, why is Etaceh the protectorate of this valley?"

"Ssshe was ssstrong and decent. Once. What elssse..."

"How can I improve my defensive magic?"

Scallen watched as the huntress began to speak louder, her eyes closing ever so slightly, the drop of wine on her bottom lip. He stood and knelt beside her, taking the drop with a finger and pressing it back to her open mouth. She laughed and finished the goblet, slamming it on the table.

"Tomorrow perhaps we talk. This is strong stuff. What's the occasion Scallen? For all of this?"

He stayed knelt, looking up at her with a lazy smirk. "Why, thiss isss your first night on your own. It is a momentous occasion, and bessidesss...no one should dine alone."

"Don't you dine alone?"

Zyra regretted the question as soon as it flew from her mouth. Scallen merely shrugged it off.

"Yess...but not tonight." He poured her another glass and watched as the glass emptied and her eyes glazed. She went on about food and magic and curse words in the Rovian code until she slumped against the barren carcass, and fell into slumber.

Scallen picked her up and took her to the study. He'd found several books to assist her magic and her understanding of the world. He had planned to read them to her, as part of her training. Gently, he deposited her in the bed of furs and watched her curl up instinctively. A bittersweet smile on his face, he blew out the candle and left Zyra in what was meant to be her room.

'I don't understand.'

What is there to not understand?

'How this could be. How you could...how my mother could...'

Ginger had spent the night in the Mother Tree, and this morning was asking her father all the questions that had haunted her for so long. The words were hard to form. Ginger sat beside a man whose features resembled her own, her blue tinted skin filling her with anxiety as he tried once again to tell her the story of how he'd met her mother.

He patted her head, exhibiting great patience.

As you know the magical lands expand way beyond your clan lands, and there are borders that keep it separate. Your mother was with the Wakai tribe before it was attacked by the Akeerans and the remnants of it scattered to the stronger tribes like the Awaqui and Rovians. She was young, your age when she'd met me.

His eyes glazed over in memory and he pressed a hand against her head. Clear as day she saw an image. Him juggling fruit by the border and looking into the human world as he had often done. Her mother, an unruly mop of brown hair sneaking up to get a better look at the strange creature she'd found on her herb walk. Their eyes met, but rather than run away they remained transfixed. She drew closer and closer and he stood, a full head taller than her, so close he could reach out and touch her. He reached out, and only then did she run. She stopped half way and looked back, surprised by the lack of footsteps. Her father chuckled and sat back down.

In her mind he sent, "Are you going to run off again?"

She felt his ignorance, excitement, he didn't know common tongue then, and he'd shared it with his people after Ginger's mother taught him. She saw him entering the human lands and bringing her gifts and promising one day he would appeal to the witches and be turned into a human. She saw them lounging in the sun after a bout of ecstasy, a crown of flowers in her mother's hair as her father whispered that she was his serosta.

Then he pulled away.

So you see, I loved your mother. And she loved me, but the legends are true. Humans and magical folk are not meant to be together.

He sighed, a tucked a stray piece of hair behind her.

Nymphs know nothing of pregnancy and conception. Nymphs do not procreate. Nymph women are barren. We are created from the Mother Tree as adults, and while we know sex intimately, we never have sex with a non-nymph partner frequently enough to have known that males were fertile. She came to me, tears in her eyes and claimed to be pregnant. I could not take her in because the alarm would have sounded and the witches would have intervened. They despised half-children. They would have taken you and destroyed you, just as they destroyed all other half-children, one way or another. I could not allow this and so I told her she had to return to her tribe.

'But she had me.'

Yes. She had you in the forest. When she sensed the change she sought me out and you were delivered by myself and two of her sisters, your aunts that kept her secret. They both perished in the Akeeran raids. When you were born you looked as your mother did, human. She would let me take you for hours at a time to show you my world. When I returned you, you would be blue and she would look at me with distrust. One day when we were to meet, she did not come. I sought her out, afraid the villagers had done something, but when I found you she was in the camp. She saw me in the bushes and screamed that she saw a monster. I was chased back into the valley, knowing that she was fearful I would one day take you and you would never return. Despite the aching in my heart I knew you would be better off with her. I had no understanding of children, nor how to care for a half-child that could be discovered. It was safer to let your mother have you. She did everything she did for you, dear one. I cannot fault her. And so you have never again seen me little one, until now.

Ginger scoffed, her eyes cast downward. 'Well she should have stayed with you. Perhaps she would have been safe.'

She watched the old man shake as heavy tears streamed down his face, but he made no sound.

After several moments he looked up, her father's eyes shining with sadness. He caressed her face, memorizing her. I have always known in my heart that the Maker would one day bring you home. I had hoped he would bring you both back to me, but as it seems that was not his will. But my dear, why have you come on the eve of ill will? There has been a split between the witches, and there are whispers that a great misfortune, the One of Three, approaches.

'That's why I'm here,' Ginger said. 'The keromedio is my sister, the one you saw me grow with, and my dearest friend. We have not heard from her in a long time, and I was sent to see to her state. Do you know where I can find her?'

Her father frowned. I do not want you to involve yourself with the witches. You do not know what they will do to you if they find you. Please Azmaria. Stay here until you have mastered your nymph form so that you may not arise suspicion. If you find the keromedio and are seen as a human, they will know you are half nymph because the alarm failed to sound.

'How long will it take to master my form?'

No more than four months. I promise.

Ginger stood, her heart too full of uncomfortable emotions. Father, mother, lover, how many people would walk out of her life? Was she cursed among people? She sighed. No, she still had someone.

'I'm thankful to you, I really am father. But I am not a child. I respect your words, but I don't have to follow them. I'm going to find the keromedio and deal with whatever consequences come, but my village, my family is in trouble, and I have to get her. She can set it right, and I know she can protect me. I know you can understand that.'