Disclaimer: I own the Goddesses La'ana and Daléa and the God Shan, unless they exist, Niktaj k' Vé'an y Lata é Sha'vela, Verya, La'ana Sha'leth sh' Verya, Lata, Vé'an, the clan Sha'vela, and this Gods-cursed copy of Windows NT. (Well, actually, American Express owns it, but…) I do not own the world. I do not own Windows. Bill Gates owns that, and he can keep it for all I care! If he just… gives me… a nice little laptop… *looks longing*
A/N: MWAH HA HA HA HAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FYI: Ancient Roman measurements are used in this story. A millarium is equal to approx. 0.9927 miles, or 1.598 kilometers. An akt is equal to 0.024 millaria. A decimpeda is 0.08333 akt (I don't know the plural, so I'm using the singular forms of most of these), 10.48 feet, or 3.195 meters. An ounce is 1.048 inches, and a cubit is 1.527 feet. (Hey, blame my SOURCE for these confusing measurements!)
Verya is an Indo-Chinese tiger, panthera tigris corbetti, smaller, darker, and with shorter stripes than other tigers. There are only about 1500 left on the planet, and things are not looking good. See http://www.5tigers.org/Basics/Subsp_distribution/ichinese.htm for information.
***
For six days we have been walking. My whole body aches, and even Verya is growing tired. His movements have lost some of that lithe grace that I so endeavor to mirror. In the distance, a smudge of darkness on the ice looks to be a village, and a welcome one at that. I am tired, so tired of this endless travel and doubt. We have traversed perhaps seventy millaria in this time, and I still do not know where we are going. I am hoping for an answer here, in this village we are nearing, but that hope may be too much. And I am worried about Verya; tigers are not meant for this cold and ice and eternal night. You'd think that whatever sent down that bird and gave me Verya would make him able to live in this place, but no. Of course not. Who am I to ask some supernatural source for a "gift" who can actually survive here?
I dreamt of the sunrise last night. And realized that it will not be long in coming. I am a child of night, and sunlight seems to suck energy from me. It will be one month, two at most, before this happens and then where will we be? Verya, too, is a creature of darkness and unsuited for the blinding whiteness of Northern summers. And where will we be?
:La'ana.:
:Verya?: But it is not Verya, I realize, after I have spoken. This is a stranger.
:No. Niktaj k' Vé'an y Lata é Sha'vela.: Ah. Sha'leth. Niktaj, born of Vé'an and Lata, of clan Sha'vela. Sha'leth carry near their entire genealogy in their names, although they use only their parents and clan for everyday use. Silly, I think. But I am not sha'leth.
:Niktaj? That is not sha'leth, is it? What is your business, friend?:
:No, not sha'leth. An ancient name. I am here because- (here it paused)- because I am... different. I thought I might be able to help you, if you would accept my company.: In the way of the sha'leth, it speaks tersely, almost curtly. I find myself trusting it. Sha'leth are my sworn family, after all.
:I would gladly welcome your aid, Niktaj k' Vé'an y Lata é Sha'vela.: With my words, a small, thin-faced sha'leth stepped out of thin air, as sha'leth are wont to do, and bowed.
And so that is how we met the being who would salvage our broken hopes and become the key to our near- impossible task.
***
It said it was different. That was an understatement, if there ever was one. It is nearly as different as I. And nobody, not even through the greatest understatement, could call me normal.
Niktaj. It is called Alethio, Child of Truth, as I am Child of Night. The sha'vela are known (as far as they are known at all) for the remarkable abilities that are inborn into a few children every generation. Alethio. Latin for truth. Niktaj is a truth-finder, one who can find the truth among any number of lies. One who can find the friend among any number of enemies. Even such a number of enemies as I have.
Without Niktaj, I would have died.
***
We came to the village a sevenday later. It would have been earlier, if I had not taken sick the day before. Seventy millaria is not an easy distance, especially on humans. I woke up feverish one morning, and had Niktaj not realized this and made me rest in our tent-shelter, wrapped up in blankets, I would have been much, much worse. As it was, I could not travel for five days and only slowly on the sixth. It was late that evening when we reached the village, and so were not seen until the morning of the seventh day after I became fevered.
Trust my words when I tell you that it is not pleasant by far to wake up to a crowd of children and a simple-minded adult or two crowding around ones tent. Trust my words when I say that it is more than a little vexing to be followed around for the rest of the day by those self-same children, for no reason one is able to discern. Above all, trust me- trust me- when I say that being treated as if one is some manner of mythical goddess come to save the town is pure torture. Now, I do not know your conditions, but I for one am not a goddess of any type or form. I cannot produce sirramilk and wafers from thin air. For Daléa's sake, I cannot even produce dry bread and dirty water out of thick air, and am not, not, emphatically not ready to pretend to be able to! Shan's bones, I couldn't even get a word out of those lily-livered little things! They whispered something about some sort of myth and ran away. La'ana! Talk about annoying…
Needless to say, we spent less than a day at that village. And then we went on…
Daléa, if only I had known that this was going to be the least of the maddening events that would follow…