Twinks in Space: Destination Unknown - Part One - 29. Chapter 29 - The Rite

Orzin, Devok, and Tizzu burst into cackling laughter again.

“First cannibals,” Orzin managed through his tittering.

“And now witches?” Devok finished for him.

Tizzu framed his face with his hands and dramatically added, “We are so much more interesting than I realized!”

As their laughter died down, Orzin held up his empty glass and offered, “Can we tempt you three with one more round? Or is it time to call it a night?”

“I think I could go for another drink,” Phentrom said with a smile.

As Tizzu began to mix the group’s beverages, Lyoth asked, “Your practice, is it called gija? Can you please explain a little about it?”

“I think I remember some things,” Stawren replied. “There are legends that talk about the stones of Allthrin being able to communicate with our ancestors. The people who came before us Allarei, they were in tune with nature in a way that modern people haven’t been able to replicate, right?” She looked over at the three men for confirmation. They were all smiling at her.

“Gijas are an ancient order of shamans,” Devok added. “Our practices come from the deep past of Allthrin, from time immemorial. Many of the rituals have been lost over the ages, and our ancestors’ apparent ability to hear stone is a fascinating explanation of how our underground world came into being.”

“But these days,” Orzin continued for his husband, “most Allarei consider gijas to be part of the old ways and old religions that no longer mean anything or apply to our daily lives.”

Devok nodded. “Yes, but it’s important to keep our heritage, especially since so many of our people died off in the plague.”

“Whatever well of magic our ancestors may have once tapped into,” Tizzu added, “has long since run dry. Our rituals are a mere reflections of what our ancestors claim to have achieved through their mysticism. We just try to keep those old practices alive.”

Phentrom was puzzled. “Magic? Gijas don’t actually do real magic, do you?”

“What the gijas of our past claimed to do was more like an ability to manipulate natural forces,” Tizzu explained, “and we don’t know if our ancestors actually could do what the old writings say. There are ancient texts that discuss levitation, others about healing injuries and illnesses that would normally be fatal. There are stories of some ancient Allarei people being able to talk to animals or spirits or maybe even ghosts.”

Orzin chuckled. “We do our best. Our ancestors practiced a spellcraft that we merely shadow however we can. We have myths from long ago that have gijas could see the future, or were able to read people’s minds and hearts. They supposedly made potions and all sorts of magical concoctions.”

Tizzu giggled. “I can mix a mean cocktail, though, can’t I? I like to think I draw inspiration from the gijas that came before!”

The group’s merry banter lasted late into the night, and eventually Stawren, Lyoth, and Phentrom were guided by candlelight to one of the other houses that the trio of husbands had cleaned. The hosts left their company and returned to their own home.

The next morning, the preparations for the gija ritual were made, and the six of them were in the back garden behind the men’s house. Six candles were burning.

Stawren could hardly keep her excitement contained. “I’ve never gotten to be part of a traditional blessing before,” she whispered to Lyoth and Phentrom as the six of them sat down on the grass.

The hosts and guests’ seating positions alternated; they sat in a circle, Orzin, Stawren, Devok, Lyoth, Tizzu, and Phentrom.

Orzin spoke in the ancient language of the Allarei people, and Devok translated, while Tizzu enacted the ceremony.

“Thuilla nthallic oola…” Orzin began, and Devok spoke quietly along with his husband in the common tongue.

“May the whispering stones and the words of Allthrin’s body provide you with wisdom. May your steps meet stable stones on the path of your destined life.”

In a little metal dish at the center of their circle, Tizzu placed some dried plant matter like tiny twigs, two dried leaves that he crushed to powder, and a single drop of yellow oil.

“Illialo dnaduia jahalim…” Orzin continued, and Devok continued translating.

“When you lay your head down to rest, may Allthrin cradle you. When you rise, may Allthrin be your guide. May you remember always that you are protected with the strength of Allthrin, may you always protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

Tizzu ignited a small triangular piece of paper on one of the candles, and he dropped it onto the contents of the dish. The ingredients started to burn, and wisps of smoke curled up like serpent ghosts.

Devok nodded in Orzin’s direction and quickly whispered, “Umanithwae means follow the rock,” and he fell silent as his husbands approached the end of the blessing.

Each time Orzin spoke the word umanithwae, Tizzu dropped a single dried flower petal onto the flames.

“Umanithwae, Stawren.”

The first petal added its subtle aroma to the smoke.

“Umanithwae, Phentrom.”

The second petal burned to ash.

“Umanithwae, Lyoth.”

The third dried flower petal disappeared in the fire, and with that, the ritual was concluded. The group sat quietly for a moment.

Stawren’s eyes were shimmering with tears.

Lyoth was smiling.

Phentrom looked astounded. “That was beautiful,” he whispered, as if afraid he might break the spell.

The three husbands brought their palms together and bowed their heads to their guests.

“Thank you,” Lyoth added quietly, “you honor us.”

Once the six were back in the kitchen again, Devok brought out a quiche for breakfast, and Stawren asked the men, “Why don’t more of our people practice gija?”

“I think a lot of folks view it as old-fashioned and meaningless,” Orzin replied, “but there’s always been a small group of people like us who did our best to keep the traditions alive. It’s how we met,” he added, indicating his husbands.

“We were much younger back then and not nearly as good-looking,” Tizzu said with a laugh.

Orzin chuckled. “We met at a gathering for gijas and gija supporters and any people who were interested in the old ways. Tizzu had a booth selling beard oil.”

“Remember the name of it?” Devok asked.

“Of course I remember it,” Orzin replied. “Sassy Daddy’s Masculine Products!”

“I’m still a sassy daddy,” Tizzu cooed. “And these two,” he added, smiling at Orzin and Devok, “were part of a panel and translation group about the old language.”

“Yes, we were,” Devok confirmed. “At the time, I was translating for a professor of mine, and Orzin had been offering classic Allarei as a second language for people.” Devok looked at Stawren. “The old writings are full of gijas, like there were lots of them, but I kind of think it’s always been this way, and there has always been only a part of the population who was interested or able to be a gija.”

“It’s not for everyone,” Orzin added with a shrug.

Phentrom looked up from his breakfast. “What type of eggs are these?” he asked as he took another bite.

“They’re dillapa eggs,” Orzin replied. “They are quite a bit smaller than the chicken eggs you might get on most other planets, but they have always worked well for our people.”

“But what are dillapa?” Phentrom pressed him further.

“Oh, sorry, they’re sometimes colloquially referred to as oolacks. Have you heard of them?”

Phentrom thought and said, “No, I haven’t.”

Stawren was wearing a puckish grin, and Lyoth noticed her expression. He suspected the answer to the mandroid’s question was going to surprise Phentrom. Lyoth had visited countless planets during his years of service, and he was used to eating unique and exotic ingredients.

Orzin continued. “Dillapa are big reptiles that nest on the banks of our underground rivers.”

“Reptiles?!” Phentrom replied in a startled tone.

Stawren snickered and Lyoth took another large mouthful of quiche.

“They evolved in the darkness,” Orzin explained, “so they’re blind, but they have an ability to echolocate that is similar to bats.”

“My goodness, reptiles!” Phentrom stated.

Devok chimed in, “It’s weird that dillapa evolved blindness because of the darkness, but they’re herbivores; they didn’t evolve to eat the abundant source of food that’s right there in the rivers.”

“So, they don’t eat the little fish we had last night?” Lyoth asked as he finished his final bite of quiche.

“Nope,” Devok replied, “like we said, the fish have no natural predators.”

“Except people!” Tizzu added with a laugh.

Orzin reached out to Phentrom and placed a hand on his forearm. “And don’t worry, we don’t eat the lizards themselves, just their eggs.”

“Wow, lizard eggs,” Phentrom repeated, trying to hide his dismay.

“I thought it was delicious,” Lyoth commented, raising his empty plate. He smacked his lips. “And what’s the interesting spice lingering in the background? I’m still enjoying it.”

Devok perked up in delight. “I’m so glad you can taste it!” he replied. “It’s one of our mushrooms. We call them firecaps, because they’re the only mushroom that produces its own version of capsaicin, like in chili peppers.” He opened a cupboard and pulled out a spice shaker. “And just like chili peppers, we dry and grind the mushrooms down to a powder. They aren’t too intensely spicy, but the powder adds a nice bit of heat to a dish.”

Lyoth looked impressed. “You three gentlemen have figured out quite a life for yourselves here in Ebivon. Thank you so much for sharing a little of it with us. I hope the next time we make it through this part of the world, your community has grown.”

The six of them finished breakfast with more lovely conversation, and the throuple wished the travelers well.

“We threw together a goodie-basket for your journey,” Tizzu declared. “There’s a jar of pickled dzuwilla along with a pack of our homemade oilla chips.”

“But before you eat those,” Devok interjected, “you’ll find three more slabs of our quiche. You should enjoy them while they’re still fresh.”

Phentrom kept his unnerved feelings about the reptile eggs to himself.

“I’ve also made you a thermos of oalli to drink,” Tizzu continued.

“Just give it a swirl,” Orzin added with a dramatic flick of the wrist, “before pouring yourselves a glass.”

Stawren smiled at them. “You three have been very kind, thank you, and thank you for the gija blessing.”

The three Blue men waved them on their way.

Stawren piloted the hovercraft back out along the cleared streets of Ebivon until they returned to the major path that led on to other distant remnants of cities. There was much more debris on the roads, but the vehicle Stawren had chosen was unencumbered by anything they came across.

Lyoth turned to her. “Before the plague, do you remember how long it used to take to travel from between Ebivon and Raxtack City?”

Stawren looked thoughtful. “I wouldn’t expect for us to get there until sundown. I think we’ll be traveling the entire day. When these main highways were at their peak, we used to zip at pretty decent speeds in our hovercrafts.” She patted the vehicle’s dashboard. “But for most of our journey yesterday, I drove at about half the speed that we used to normally go on these roads. I mean, I was just a kid back then, but I loved taking road trips to different parts of Allthrin when my family visited the planet, and I remember some of the details.”

Lyoth asked, “Do you happen to remember what else we’ll get to before Raxtack City? Will we pass many other cities on the way?”

Stawren shrugged. “There’s honestly not much, some mining communities and a few backwater villages, but they’re probably all ghost towns now. We’ll stop when we need a break and just see what we can find.”

“But are we going to try and make it to Raxtack City tonight?” Phentrom asked.

“I’d like to,” Stawren said with a grin. “There’s a good chance there will be at least a few people there, but because it’s so far and takes such an effort to get out there, Raxtack will probably still be pretty sparsely populated.” She then pivoted their conversation. “It was so nice of the guys to give us all that food and drink for the journey. The ration kits that we’ve been eating from Fonith’s stash do their job, but they’re not terribly satisfying.”

“I agree,” Lyoth concurred. “There were a few missions over the years where I had to live on ration packs for extended periods of time. You’re right, they serve their purpose, but I certainly don’t love them.”

“I thought Orzin, Devok, and Tizzu were just delightful!” Phentrom declared. “Do you think we’ll ever see them again?”

Lyoth smiled at the mandroid and said, “You never know.”