Chapter 5 – A Grief That Cannot Be Swallowed

Wanderer saw a large hall with stone walls and a figure in white. It belonged to a plump brown-hair boy, who stood alone before a long dinner table. On it was a large earthen bowl containing some kind of hot stew, as a smoke wafted from within.

The youth stared at the bowl for a long time, as if hesitating somehow. Swallowing, he seemed to have decided, his hand slowly reaching for the wooden spoon in the bowl. He scooped a piece of meat in the bowl and put it close to his lips.

Just then, the door suddenly opened. Startled, the boy dropped the spoon. A furious yell from the door summoned Wanderer's gaze from the boy in white, and he discovered its source to be a masked shrine guardian.

"What do you think you're doing!?"

The youth took the bowl in his hands, but he was too slow for the guardian, who lunged at him. The bowl crashed on the floor, shattering into pieces. The broth it once contained dyed the boy's white clothes blood red. He cried in pain as the hot stew scalded his skin, yet he stilled tried to reach for a piece of meat on the floor. However, the older man caught him in a firm, almost merciless grip.

"Let me go! Let me-"

"Such a foolish thing to do! It's not going to help you at all!" cried the shrine guardian, gritting his teeth.

"But if I'm tainted with sin, then you can't do what you intend to, can you? If so, then I'll be –"

The sentence was never finished, for the older man's hand struck hard across his cheek, so hard that the youth's face was turned sideway.

"You're wrong!" the masked shrine guardian said sharply, silencing the younger man at once. The boy stared fixedly at him. Drops of tears that trickled down his cheeks, one of which was swollen, were the only movement on it.

The guardian released him, speaking more gently.

"Please forgive my rudeness… But whatever you try to do, the fate cannot be changed or avoided. You just have to accept it."

And then the shrine guardian supported the crying youth out of the hall, leaving Wanderer with the surroundings that soon faded into darkness.

Dark tunnel and white light again…

…A sob…

…Expressing unbearable agony, grief, and despair toward an unchangeable fate…

…Mono's sobs…

The third evening of his stay in the village and the first day he got a chance to talk to Mono to her heart's content, Lord Emon suggested that he should have dinner with the shrine guardians instead of eating alone in the cabin, and the youth did not refuse.

Following Yaheem, he found himself in some kind of a barrack – a long stone building with two storeys. The ground floor had a hall with a long dinner table to accommodate the ten occupants, and a fireplace. Apart from Yaheem, he had known another four guardians – Bycal, Soreyu, Havalim, and Perah – who kept him company this afternoon when Mono went into the shrine to offer the sacred water. He soon learned the name of the rest, who introduced themselves to him amicably before dinner.

Each guardian clasped his hands in front of him and prayed before the meal while the boy waited. Then all the guardians took off their masks and they began to eat quietly.

Wanderer stole some glances at Yaheem's face. He was still young, in his early twenties at most. Short locks of brown hair covered his forehead and the rest was tied in a long ponytail behind his back. The four guardians he had known before were about the youth's age or somewhat older, while the other five seemed even older than Yaheem, ranging from late twenties to early thirties.

The youth could not help but wonder why someone quite young like Yaheem was assigned such an important duty of guarding Lord Emon, and why the priest trusted him with guarding Mono. But he did not think this would be a good time to ask.

"Oh, Wanderer," Bycal called him. "Your horse, that black one with white forehead is so beautiful. I haven't seen such an elegant horse before."

"Thanks for your compliment," replied the Arslan youth.

"Did you catch him as a wild horse or breed him?"

"He's of pure wild blood, but my father caught the mare carrying him. He was born and raised in the tribe, so he's more docile than ordinary wild horses."

"That's great. I'd die to have a nice horse like him. Now I know it's true that your people are good with horses," Bycal remarked.

"And I've heard that Arslan people are skilled at horseback archery. I hope you can show us someday," Havalim carried on enthusiastically.

"If there's a chance to, I'll be more than glad."

"Speaking of archery," Soreyu spoke up. "The day after tomorrow is our day off. We're going to see the hunters in the village go on a deer hunt. Care to join us, Wanderer?"

"Let me ask Mono first," replied the boy, realizing that he had not hunted by himself for three days. He should find some time to practice, or else this could become a problem when he was on his own again.

Soreyu was about to speak, but then Yaheem murmured.

"Stop talking about sins."

His words sent heavy silence throughout the hall, at least a few moments before Havalim tried to lighten the atmosphere.

"I don't think you have to be this strict, Yaheem. We're just going to watch. It's not that we're joining the hunt."

"Speaking of killing on the sacred grounds is already a sin," Yaheem said grimly. "You can invite him to sin somewhere else, but not here."

Wanderer looked down at the bowl of stew before him. Then he spoke when Yaheem was about to put a spoon of the food in his mouth.

"But isn't what you're eating MEAT?"

Yaheem halted. Putting down the spoon, he looked the boy in the eyes with a stern gaze.

"Yes. But it's dead. What you're speaking of are LIVING ones. They're not supposed to be talked of with joy of watching them being slaughtered."

"But aren't the hunters who slaughtered them the ones who provide what everyone in the shrine eats?"

Wanderer's words caused the other shrine guardians to turn grim. They looked at him as though he had said what should never be said.

Yaheem's stare pierced at him. If his gaze were a knife, the youth had probably died a bloody death.

"The wanderer from Arslan," the shrine guardian stressed each word slowly. "As you're a stranger here, allow me to enlighten you now on two things about our custom."

He stood up, his eyes never leaving Wanderer.

"First, the guardians of this shrine can only kill heathens or sinners, as it is our duty to protect the glory of the Sun God. We cannot take the lives of the innocents or other creatures."

The boy was going to argue how funny it was, as they did not kill by themselves but consumed the creatures someone else had killed for them. However, Yaheem went on without any pause.

"And second, only the guardians and servants in the shrine can consume meat, as it is a necessary source of strength. Lord Emon and Lady Mono do NOT eat it and you shall not speak of killing in their presences. Keep it in mind!"

Then Yaheem pushed his chair close to the table and went upstairs without any words, leaving the other guardians and Wanderer in shock.

A few moments later, one of the guardians who seemed older than Yaheem sighed and shook his head.

"Just don't mind him. He's in a bad mood, that's all."

"But you'd best be careful not to say anything against the rules when he's around," said the oldest guardian. "And Wanderer…"

He turned to the newcomer.

"Please take my advice: you shouldn't argue with Yaheem unless you want to be in trouble. I'm not saying that it was your fault, but Yaheem's not someone to mind seriously. He's never liked Arslan people to begin with."

The boy raised his brow in puzzlement.

"But why does he dislike people from my tribe?"

The older man paused for a moment, then decided to speak.

"Well, years ago Yaheem got into trouble with an Arslan man who came to stay here. But don't ask me more. The matter's all finished and had better not be dug up anymore."

Surprised, Wanderer kept silent for a long time until the same guardian continued.

"I was just telling you so that you'll be careful. Now let's eat."

"…I know," replied the boy, resuming his eating, chewing and swallowing mechanically.

"Oh, and please don't tell anyone outside the shrine, or let Yaheem suspect that I told you. This should be a secret only among those in here," the older man stressed.

"I see. I'll keep that in mind," Wanderer replied softly, scooping up a spoonful of stew. However, due to his doubtfulness, he did not even notice how it tasted anymore.

"Yaheem once got into trouble with an Arslan man?" Mono repeated softly when they were near the cemetery. The boy kept standing while the girl was sitting on the same bench.

"At least that's what I heard," Wanderer whispered, glancing at Yaheem to make sure that the third person did not hear it. "I heard that only the people in this shrine know about it. Do you know what it's about?"

The girl remained silent for a while. Then she shook her head.

"I never heard about it. It must have happened when I was very young." Her voice expressed half-frustration and half-weariness. "Yaheem never told me anything about himself."

After pondering for a moment, Wanderer asked.

"Yesterday, didn't you say he was five or six years older than you?"

"Yes, I did."

"That means he must have lived here since he was very young."

"I guess so. He's been here as long as I can remember."

"Is he an orphan like you?"

"You could say that."

In his thought, he was silent for another moment.

"Then it's strange…I can't see how he got into trouble with someone from the Arslan tribe when he was that young."

If someone from his tribe had indeed been to this village, he assumed that it was probably a youth about his age – seventeen to eighteen years old. He couldn't imagine how a much older person could have get into trouble with a boy less than ten years old – a trouble that caused the boy to hold a grudge toward anyone from the same tribe so strongly.

"Please don't worry about it," Mono pulled him back from his thoughts. "Everyone knows Yaheem's just like this. And even if he dislikes Arslan people, you're not the one who got into trouble with him at that time."

"You're right." Wanderer forced a smile. "It's nothing, though. I'm just wondering how one of my people can have anything against him."

"It's all in the past; it'd be best to just let go," remarked the girl. "Oh, yesterday I forgot to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"Your bandanna."

He just realized about his own bandanna, which he had wrapped around her snakebite wound.

"I know I should return it to you, but…" she lowered her face. "I couldn't wash the blood off it."

"It's all right," replied the boy. "You can just return it like that. I only put it on so I don't get hair in my eyes. A little stain will do."

"But I don't think so," Mono quickly refused. "There are a lot of bloodstains…It doesn't look very good. But don't worry; I'll make you a new one."

"You don't need to trouble yourself."

"It's not a trouble at all." The girl firmly assured. "I'm always free after dinner, and I have to stay in my room. So I always read a book or make some kind of handiwork. It's just that…"

Mono lowered her face, seeming hesitant to speak. He raised his brows.

"Just that what?"

"…I'm not good with needlework, so I'm afraid it's not going to look so nice," she confessed meekly. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"Don't worry about it," he simply replied. "You are so kind to offer to make a new one for me, and I appreciate that."

She stole a shy glance at him before keeping her gaze down again.

"I have two things to tell you first," Wanderer said. "Before we enter the Arslan lesson for today."

Mono giggled at the way he put it. Then she asked.

"What is it?"

"Well, the first one is," he paused, recalling Yaheem's warning, "I may have some business tomorrow, and I'm afraid I may not be able to see you."

"I see." She nodded. "It's all right if you have some business or want to go somewhere else. Just think of talking to me as something to do in your free time."

"I know."

"And what's next?" asked Mono.

He said nothing, simply handing a brown sack he kept at his belt to her. She looked at it, puzzled.

"What is this?"

"Why don't you see for yourself?"

Mono put her hand inside the bag, feeling its inside for a moment and pulling something out. As she saw that it was a wooden rabbit doll, she smiled brilliantly, her eyes glittering.

"It's the doll Grandfather Yorei made for me!"

Placing the rabbit in her lap, she enthusiastically pulled out more dolls: a horse, a deer, a bird, and finally a little girl.

"It's been so long that I totally forgot about them," she laughed. "I'd never imagined you'd find them."

"As I thought, he made them for you," replied Wanderer, unable to hide his own smile at seeing how happy she was.

"Because of this one?" Mono put the girl doll before her eyes. "Back then, I asked him to make many wooden dolls for me to choose."

"Choose?" he repeated.

"To choose which one was the most beautiful," she quickly explained. Though it did not provide him any clearer meanings, he dismissed his curiosity, watching her as she examined each doll.

When she was done, she turned to him and suddenly asked.

"Have you seen a figure of some large bird in his house?"

"Hmm…" He tried to recall his memory. "I think these are all I've seen."

"I see…" Mono's expression was thoughtful. "When I last met Grandfather, I asked him to make me a bird of paradise. I saw him start working on it, but he probable passed away before it was done. And as time passed, I forgot about it."

"I'll look one more time," Wanderer offered. "I'll surely bring it to you if I find it."

She gave him a faint smile.

"Thank you so much," she said, turning the dolls around. "I always asked him to carve me dolls of animals I liked, but the bird of paradise was my most favorite. Have you seen a real one?"

He shook his head.

"What does it look like?"

"It's a very beautiful bird with such a melodic voice, as if it really descended from the heaven," she said dreamily. "That day, I was going to visit Grandfather when I saw one singing in the trees. It has a very long tail, as golden as ears of wheat under the sunlight; its body as red as the Eree fruits, its head yellow like daffodils and its neck emerald green. I used to think how great it would be if I could become such a colorful bird."

"I can't believe such a bird even exists," remarked the boy.

"I wouldn't have thought I'd seen a real bird, if Grandfather hadn't told me that it was a bird of paradise when I told him about it. He said that many of them lived around here. But as the village became more crowded, they retreated deeper into the forests," continued Mono. "I wish you could see one of them."

"Maybe I'd get a chance to during my stay," Wanderer said, but he did not have high hopes on it.

He never thought he would actually sight it months after, as one of the sign that heralded one of the worst tragedies in his life.

To be continued...

Chapter VI - Family and Friends