Mirrored Realms: Amethyst & Tennessee

The rain had stopped almost all together. An endless blue horizon watched as the sun beat mercilessly upon Busara and his warrior companions. For many days they had traveled west to face the growing threat of a rival tribe which sought to take the rather choice land Busara and his people called home. With a sweet water spring and more wild onions than they could ever make use of, they were frequently on the offensive.

The tribe to the west hadn't shown any aggression yet, but the Chief had seen in a vision that they craved the land-- seen that Busara would go with his faithful warriors bold to meet the threat at once. So through the scorching heat their feet sorely dragged. Away from their sweet water and far from their families they marched.

Busara felt himself lucky though. His two boys were nearly men, and although they would have had to fight under normal circumstances, the Chief was their uncle and had promised his sister-- Busara's late wife-- to take care of them. He honored her final charge and desire by sending Busara in their stead. Many of the boys here did not have the luxury of a father in such good health as Busara. Despite his age, Busara had shown excellent resilience and outmatched any foe one on one,. Even two or three foes would face a great challenge when set against him.

It wasn't two or three that lay in wait, however. As Busara and his band crested the final hill, they looked down on a grouping of more than one hundred human men. The tribe they had set out to face had an appearance that resembled hyena and were set in cages, along with many others.

"Slavers!" Busara cried as he charged forward. leading first into the mass of foreign invaders. All differences were put aside when outsiders were involved-- especially slavers. Busara plowed into his first opponent unopposed. The boys followed behind him, their battle cries more like that of a lion's than the cubs they resembled. Like a well choreographed dance, they moved in a single formation like one entity that was perfectly aware of itself as a whole. Orders shouted were obeyed, and soon their disadvantage in numbers mattered little as they pulled cages apart, freeing the captives they had come to kill.

The battle was going well as the numbers grew against a common enemy. Busara had freed nearly a third of the prisoners before he heard the Asharan horn. A unit of well armored Asharans had gathered from the disorganized mess the caravan had been. Their iron shields did not bow or dent as Busara clashed against them. He watched as the boys around him were hewn down like wheat in the harvest. They were going for their legs. The hide and wooden shields, which matched well against the bone spears, might as well have been paper to the sharpened tools of the Asharan mercenaries.

Busara abandoned the useless instruments, instead turning to his hands, ripping a shield down and penetrating the wall of bodies before him. He took from a man a sword of great weight. Though he had not been trained with this, he was quick witted and turned it well against the men which had been otherwise immune.

He resembled more a beast than man. His shouts and screams silenced his enemies as they surrounded him. Busara was covered in blood, viscera, and all manner of vile. His eyes were wide as his precision strikes drove enemies away. They encircled him, but none dared make the first move. Each glance made these hardened men wince, flinching back. They dare not break ranks to run or move in. Busara's rage was strong, but his body began to weigh on him. His spirit swung, quick and accurate, his arm followed moments later, and the gap between the two grew little by little.

A stalemate stood between them briefly before a man, easily two heads taller than any other, ripped the crowd apart. All stood still and silent as the two faced each other.

"You understand?" the brute said in a butchered accent. Busara nodded. "You win, we leave empty... Me win, take all you." The giant stood before Busara. In his right hand was what could only be described as a tree trunk.

"You will leave all the slaves and go?" Busara repeated slowly.

"Go... we no return." The giant used his branch like fingers to cross his heart.

Busara didn't know the meaning of the gesture, but once the word was given it should be honored. He picked up an iron spear. Twisting and examining it closely, he practiced a few thrusting motions before turning his attention to the hulking creature which somewhat resembled a man. He squatted low, and dusted his hands. He whispered a short word to his late wife, swearing to return.

The pair nodded and Busara lunged forward. He ducked, he dipped, he dove and dodged. His lean frame was agile, and managed many jabs which drew small eruptions of blood. His footwork was established from decades of fierce practice. Each crushing blow from the giants club narrowly missed as Busara's responding attack struck each time.

A man can practice all his life. He can be undefeated. He can be perfect. Sometimes, perfect simply isn't good enough. No amount of perfect footwork matters when, in one moment, the gods of fortune pull the rug out from under you. Perhaps a stone, or loose gravel, maybe even an instant of weakness from an aging body. It didn't matter to Busara as he lay there. The pain hadn't set in by that point so he thought that he had just died. Any man would be forgiven for feeling that way.

The club had made contact with his hip, he knew that for sure, but he couldn't tell how long ago that was or how far he had been thrown. He simply lay there, wondering when his wife would lift him up and escort him to his afterlife in The West. He doubted that moment when the first tinge crept its way from his femur. He thought maybe he landed in a mound of ants as his leg started to sting, but liquid fire started to pour freely, and pain tore its way up along his spine. Hot and cold merged together as he looked down. For some reason, in that moment, it wasn't the fact that the back of his knee was where the front should be. No, instead he thought, 'My sons will call me bird-leg.'

He was ripped from his thoughts as the thud of the giant landed close to him. The giant was face down and unmoving. Busara waited for what felt like hours, but the body remained still. "Giant." But no response came.

The mercenaries started to haul the giant away and started pulling Busara too. He didn't realize for a while that he was in a cage. "The *Giant* let you all go, *we* didn't."

Like Nuru, Busara now stood with Amethyst and the rest of the travelers looking down at his village for the first time in nearly two decades.

"Come my friend." Amethyst said, her hand placed gently on his back. "Let us go and see."

"What if they do not recognize me?" Busara asked shakily, "Or hate me for abandoning them?"

"You are a good father, so they will be good children." Amethyst cooed with a smile. Her heart was pounding to see Busara hold his children and meet his grandchildren.

Busara let out a shaky sigh. Wa Chini put his hand on Busara's shoulder, and Nuru stood beside him. Amethyst slowly took his hand and started to lead him forward. He followed hesitantly.

"I don't recognize anyone... They were but children when I left." Busara looked around concerned.

They walked the narrow dirt path to his home. There were laughing children rolling down the hills and chasing off birds. Large fluffy clouds gave their brief gifts of shade as they were passing through silently. The smell of onions mixed with a sweet aroma which beckoned them to stay.

There lay only bare ground where his home had stood once. Grass had started encroaching where his children took their first steps. A tree had sprouted and grew where he had shared meals with his wife. The memories of bath time and hide and seek echoed in his eyes like phantoms.

"They are gone, I am afraid to say," came an old voice approaching the party.

Busara didn't respond. Slowly he sank to the ground. Amethyst wanted to say something, but didn't know what, so chose instead to sink by his side. Nuru and Wa Chini followed suit. The others remained where they were and simply watched. Tenya seemed invested, so Amethyst knew she would need to tell her everything later.

"After you died, the Chief then took on another war. One after another." The man's voice was solemn "Your youngest married, but fell in battle. His wife lives with her father now, no child was conceived." The man remained behind Busara and neither made any attempt to look the other in the eye. "Though by right your eldest could have taken her to wife, he chose instead to go north. Last told, he intended to pass beyond Ashara. Though I know not if there be more than the drop of the world past that." The man stayed quiet for a moment, letting the information settle. "Your eldest saw his brother fall. He then slew the chief and took on the name Jooruu, Son of Busara. Now, what does the ghost do?" The silence stretched before the old man turned back down the path leaving them alone.

Busara's head dropped. Tears fell steadily as he whispered "A ghost moves on."

§

"Here, have some dried meat." Amethyst offered with a sorrowful smile.

"I thought we ran out weeks ago." Tenya said, excitedly snatching the meat from Amethyst's hands.

"Yeah... I didn't eat mine right away."

"Just awful." Tenya murmured.

"What part, the meat? Or me not eating?" Amethyst questioned, embarrassed.

"Well, you should be eating more!" Tenya exclaimed, handing a piece back. "And the dried meat is... dried meat. No, I'm talking about Busara's story." She frowned. "I mean, I don't know, like who was the old man and why did he have so much information? Also how does Busara know how long his son had been gone from the village?"

"The growth of the tree suggests seven or so years. Busara says Jooruu would have been exiled and the home torn down. The tree is sort of a ritual to... cleanse... the space."

"Why be so cryptic about the ghost thing and not just tell him?" Tenya asked, impatiently.

"I think the exile is a multi-generation thing? I don't know."

"I thought your tongue rune thing gave you the power to understand."

"Languages sure, not rituals of a culture I've never been around." Amethyst let out a snort.

"It's magic, I don't know how it works." Tenya snapped.

Amethyst stopped for a moment and took in a deep breath, then caught back up. "Okay, I have to ask."

"You don't, actually."

"That, that right there." Amethyst said quickly. "One moment we are playing and you are fine, the next you are acting..."

"Like an asshole?"

"Rude..."

The moment held Amethyst's chest tight while Tenya rubbed at her arm. Amethyst grew frustrated at the lack of answer. Again, Tenya shut down and wouldn't open up. Amethyst realized Tenya had stopped. Tenya was gripping her arm tightly, with her eyes cast downward. She dug her foot into the ground as if gold were buried right under her.

"Come see me tonight and we can talk more then." Tenya brushed past Amethyst.

"What's that about?" Nuru inquired. She had perked up quite a lot since passing the river, though everyone had been down since leaving Busara's old village.

"Just another mood swing." Amethyst watched as Tenya walked quickly down the road.

"Her mood is... like the weather, just wait five minutes and it will change." Nuru said with a smile.

"I didn't know you wrote poems." Amethyst teased.

"Nothing of the sort." Nuru said as she squeezed Amethyst's hand quickly, before falling back to Hofu and Agápi.

Amethyst became lost in her imagination. What if under that scarf Tenya had a scaly arm? She had heard of magic growing past the user's ability and changing the body. Some mages even did this on purpose in search of a controlled transformation, or at least that's what she had heard. Maybe a burn? Or a crazy tattoo she got in rebellion to her family? Amethyst felt a sting in her tail, realizing she had been twisting it hard in her hands as she thought.

That night, Amethyst sat next to Tenya, waiting patiently for her to start talking. She felt awkward when Tenya didn't answer her greeting or request to sit. She sat all the same, and in silence they faced each other.

"Don't tell the others." Tenya whispered, seemingly embarrassed.

"I swear." Amethyst said in an equally hushed tone.

Tenya unwrapped her arm. It looked as though she had been nearly devoured by some bugs. There were bumps and scabs all over her arm. Amethyst's imagination brought back that she must be an overburdened mage of some kind. At least until the needle and vial apparatus came out.

"Nectar," Tenya said as she loaded the odd device strapping it to her arm. The leather straps were well worn and the vial was cloudy around the outside. "For pain I've had since I was fourteen or fifteen or something..."

"Nectar is a dangerous drug, I've... seen..." Amethyst's mind twisted with the possibilities of Tenya being an addict.

"Yeah, if you're an addict." Tenya scoffed. "I take this for my health, once every... four days... as the effects wear off I take another." She said as she tugged the strap tight.

Amethyst watched as the vial slowly drained into Tenya's arm.

"Ahh. There we go, that is so much better." Tenya said as she fumbled to unstrap the device.

Amethyst moved to help pull the straps off. Tenya smacked Amethyst's hand away. "I'm not some junkie! You got me?" Tenya spat. "I can take care of it myself, it's barely enough to get a buzz, okay? It's just for the pain." Her eyes were wild for a moment, like an animal when you get too close to their food.

Amethyst hesitated, "I.. Yeah, of course, I just wanted to help."

"Well, thanks, but no, thanks." Tenya said, returning to the device. She then looked up at Amethyst and smiled.

"What.. um.. well, I guess I should get some sleep." Amethyst stammered.

"Good night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs.. uh..." Tenya sang, quietly before she laid her head back slowly.

Amethyst went back and wrapped herself up tightly. She wasn't cold, but felt comforted wrapped up. The heat didn't matter, she just liked how it felt, like a warm hug, which is what she needed now. She felt tears welling up and a hitch in her throat, but she pushed it down as her thoughts ran wild once more as she drifted into a restless slumber.