The Ardor - 4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“Elyran… Elyran!”

I shot up, screaming. I was panting and wet all over.

“Elyran?”

I turned left where Maraki was kneeling. His face was tense and his eyes wide.

“Eleiya Spire. It’s gone. I’ve seen it. All dead.”

My voice broke and tears flowed down my cheeks. Maraki held me by my shoulders. His features had lost their strain and his eyes were filled with warmth.

“It was a dream, nothing but a nightmare.”

His deep voice was soft and soothing. The images faded away, my body relaxed and my breathing slowed down. I turned away from him and lay down. I pulled up my knees and held them with my hands. I was embarrassed that he had seen me like this. One of his hands found my shoulder again.

“You must think I’m a weakling.”

It took him some moments to answer.

“No, not at all. I know the power of dreams, how they can be more threatening than everything in the real world.”

With utmost care, he pressed my shoulder.

“I couldn’t sleep and was doing some exercises. You became more and more restless. When you started to scream, I was worried.”

So he hadn’t lain by my side. Perhaps, the idea of him bringing me peace wasn’t as absurd as I had wanted to believe.

“I’m having nightmares like this since they brought me here. Three Tenths long, every night.”

“Last night, you did sleep well, didn’t you?”

The softness of his voice didn’t leave me a choice but to answer the truth.

“Last night, one thing was different.”

He retracted his hand. I closed my eyes in sadness. I had said too much.

“May I hold you tonight?”

I opened my eyes and rolled around to face Maraki. Still on his knees, he looked at me with a solemn expression. His question, the very fact that it had been a question, made my skin glow with heat. He was offering me a way to preserve my dignity, but keeping my face had lost all its importance for me.

“I won’t allow you to assume the responsibility that I have to burden. I ask you: may I spend this night in your arms?”

Instead of answering, he put his right hand under my head and lay down beside me. After covering us both with the cloak and the blanket, he laid his left arm around me and pulled me tight. My head was now resting on his upper arm.

“For not knowing the Ogrushkai, you understand us very well.”

I turned my head to look at him. I put my hand on his arm around me and gave it a light squeeze.

“Whether I understand the Ogrushkai, I don’t know. But I’m beginning to understand you.”

Had that been a small sigh of delight of his? Without any doubt, his smile was for real.

“Sleep well, Elyran.”

“You too, Maraki.”

I closed my eyes and sleep came soon.

When I awoke the next time, I felt refreshed and full of energy. Maraki hadn’t let go of me and my head was resting on his arm. I looked at him and he was beaming back at me.

“You haven’t waited for me to wake up, have you?”

“Of course, I have.”

Once more, this green mountain of muscles had caught me off-guard. My assessment about his true nature had been correct. There was an interesting paradox between his appearance and his gentleness. Maraki’s face took on a more earnest expression. My silence had unnerved him.

“I did it, because I liked to, not because I had to.”

After a moment, he realized how much innuendo could be interpreted into his statement. The left corner of his mouth went up. A person couldn’t look more insecure.

“And I want to thank you for that.”

He had held his breath and let go of it now.

“It’s my way to pay back all the nice things you’ve already done for me.”

“I told you being nice wouldn’t harm.”

We snickered together. The change in his behavior was unbelievable: from gruff to caring in less than two Cycles. Not having to wear his mask had set Maraki free. I was still in his arms, but neither he nor I made any attempts to change that.

“While waiting for you to awake, I’ve thought about something.”

The way he was speaking reminded me of little children who were sure to have made a great discovery.

“I remembered your worries about what I could do to you in Ardor.”

He showed no sign of panic this time which was a definite improvement.

“I came up with the idea that I could teach you some fighting techniques.”

That came unexpected.

“You want to show me how to fight against… you?”

“Why not? You don’t want to get hurt and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“We solve this by me hurting you? Apart from my doubts that I could succeed in doing that, I don’t want that either.”

My unwillingness to harm him put a sparkle into his eyes.

“I’m honored that you feel like that. But think of it: the chance of you fatally injuring me is so much smaller than the other way round, isn’t it?”

Everything in me bristled at that logic, but Maraki had made a valid point. There still were flaws. How many times in a row could I possibly fend him off? Would the Nur’Zhul just watch or restraint me? I looked into his face. There was so much enthusiasm that I couldn’t let him down.

“What do you have in mind?”

This answer put even more zest into him.

“Me’tai. It’s an Ogrushkai wrestling style.”

“Wrestling? Against you? Does this technique consist of lying flat down on the ground and praying to the gods that it will be over soon?”

He didn’t find that funny.

“Fighting isn’t all about strength and raw power. It’s about doing the right thing at the right moment, about using the abilities that you have to counter the opponent’s.”

“I don’t think I have any abilities that might be useful for a fight.”

His face softened.

“Of course, you have. You’re more agile than me and a quick thinker. Your… profession… requires deliberate and precise movements. These are valuable assets for combat.”

I hadn’t looked at it like that, but it made sense. At least, learning to fight would be a useful way to spend the lots of idle time we had in here.

“Okay. We’ll do it. But there is one other thing I want you to teach me.”

“I fear fighting is the only thing I’m good enough at to be a teacher.”

The corners of his mouth were drooping.

“That’s not true. I think there are many things that you can give on. But the one thing I want to learn is your language.”

His eyes widened in surprise.

“I don’t know any human who speaks our language. We learn the Common Language when we’re young. So no one bothers to reciprocate.”

The arrogance of humanity. Most human kingdoms had adopted the Common Language as their native tongue a long time ago, the Nur’Zhul Empire being one of the few exceptions. Of course, humans, being the most numerous race on the continent of Unai, expected others to adapt.

“In its language, you’ll find everything there is to know about a people.”

The teachings of my uncle were still alive in me.

“I want to know about the Ogrushkai. I want to know about you.”

A little jolt went through his arms. He had intended to press me against him, but had changed his mind in the last moment. This explanation was consistent with the expression on his face.

“I’ll try to teach you.”

He snickered.

“If my mother knew, she’d burst of laughter. She always tells me that I’ve to be the Ogrushkai being most sloppy about our language and that it’s short of a miracle any other Ogrushkai can understand me. Now, I’m a teacher.”

He laughed; an infectious sound.

“What’s the Ogrushkai word for mother?”

“We have two words: ur’jai and ur’gar.”

“Why two words?”

He subtly shook his head, which was directed at himself.

“Sorry. Of course, you can’t know. Every Ogrushkai does have two mothers: a sire mother, ur’gar, and a ward mother, ur’jai.”

He had used the word ‘sire parents’ before.

“I fear I don’t understand.”

My curiosity surprised him. It was obvious that he wasn’t used to humans being interested in details about the Ogrushkai culture.

“Your sire mother is the female who gives birth to you. Your ward mother is the female who raises you.”

“But that’s the same person, isn’t it? At least, in most cases. Why having different words?”

“Because for us, these are two different females.”

Some Parts ago, I had chastised humanity for arrogance, and now I was showing the same haughty behavior.

“Can you please explain?”

Maraki’s surprise grew stronger.

“According to our legends, the Ogrushkai were a dwindling race after the fall of the Walking God. That was when the goddess A’ra’mai, to whom our race is dear, instilled us with the Ardor. She was punished by her fellow gods for directly meddling with the affairs of the mortal world, because the damage the Walking God had inflicted upon Tenegra had made them wary. Nevertheless, what she had done could not be undone: the gift of the Ardor made our ranks increase again.”

He was reciting this story by heart. I doubted that Maraki shared the opinion of his people that the Ardor was a gift.

“But our ancestors saw the problem. Our numbers had been low and soon, cousin and cousin, sister and brother would have offspring together. In their wisdom, they decided to send the children away to other ruks.”

He hesitated.

“Ruk is our word for village, though this translation isn’t accurate. A ruk is independent in most of its decisions. They are more like little kingdoms.”

I nodded, acknowledging this new piece of information.

“Our ancestors set up the following rules. For every child, the Council of Elders decides where to send him or her. To avoid conflicts, neither the sire parents nor the ward parents know of each other. The child only knows his ward parents for his own sake. The only connection to the sire parents is a gift that is given to the child after their first Ardor.”

He had finished his recital.

“The ward parents are selected by the Council whether they want to have a child or not?”

He shook his head.

“No. To become ward parents, two Ogrushkai have to formally declare their wish to do so.”

I had another question.

“What was your gift?”

He pointed at the leather harness he was wearing.

“I received a bale of Karek leather as my Ardor gift shortly after I had turned 16 Orbits. My ur’jai had it worked into this set of armor.”

He looked into my eyes.

“I got carried away and told you so much useless stuff. I have to apologize.”

“That was everything but useless. When my uncle taught me, it was something he had learned from books. Hearing it from someone first hand is so much more interesting.”

“Your uncle gave you much knowledge, didn’t he?”

And still, some things he would have never revealed to me. I nodded nonetheless.

“I was never interested in knowing things; much to the dismay of my ur’jai. She’s ta’kar of my home ruk of Cirr’al, our spiritual leader and shaman. My ur’jai is a practitioner of magic, like your uncle.”

“We’re having quite a lot in common.”

“Even more than you think. My nar’jai, my ward father, died in a battle when I was three Orbits old.”

I remembered Maraki’s reaction when he had learned about the death of my parents. I wasn’t sure whether it was appropriate here, since it wasn’t his natural father, but I dragged down my hand diagonally over my body and said

“May your ancestors be honored.”

Once more, I had surprised him.

“You remember?”

“You said I’m a quick thinker. Obviously, I’m a quick learner, too.”

He laughed his deep laugh.

“Then it’s time to put this to the test with more hands-on things.”

Now, it was him who realized that I was still lying in his arms. The shade of his face became darker when he removed his arm without saying a word. I raised my head so that he could pull away his other arm. A subtle feeling of something amiss formed in my stomach, but was soon replaced by the anticipation for my upcoming fighting lesson.