2

Tales of Days Past

The next day was a rest day. Twice out of the week were such days, where the children did not go to school, and most of the adults did not work. But only one of those days was allowed leisure.

On the first of these days, Saber went outside to see what was going on. He was still sore, and feeling somewhat hostile towards Teacher, but otherwise well enough. His chores, light on the first rest day, were finished and he was bored.

He wandered around a little bit until he met with a group of boys from his age group; three of them. They were playing Frittball, and although two of them were younger than he, they were bigger.

Normally he would not approach them, as they usually did not get along, but he was bored. For once he had nothing to do, as he did not feel like reading or drawing, or even daydreaming. He even considered asking if he could play.

This idea was quashed a few moments later, however. "Hey, Saber," one of them snickered. "Nice job yesterday."

"Yeah," the youngest of them snorted laughter into his hand. "Got spanked by Teacher."

Saber scowled at the boys and told them basically what he thought of them. "Besides, Iyen got switched too." He narrowed his eyes at the oldest of them, the boy he always had the most problems with.

"Yes!" one agreed. "But he didn't cry like an infant!" All three, including Iyen, laughed.

Saber felt his face burn with humiliation and cursed himself silently for being so weak. Iyen was always so strong. He never cried. He was best at fighting. He was always held up as an example to the other warriors in training. Saber wasn't impressed. Iyen was a cocky jerk. Sure he could fight, well okay he fought really well for his age, but he was still a jerk! What was the point of being a good warrior if you were a jerk?

"Yeah well he only got it twice," he mumbled, as he walked away.

The others snickered, and Iyen called out, "Yeah, and don't come back again. This is a place for warriors, not poets."

As the boys continued with their game, Saber kicked a stone in frustration, not even feeling its sharp edge cut into his tough foot. Poet! He was no poet! That was only a derisive term used by some of the warrior when they talked about the scholars.
Saber sighed. He really was a coward, wasn't he? He couldn't even stand up to a bunch of daredens...children from his own age group. From an adult he would have taken such a verbal thrashing, but from boys or girls his own age, he should have fought. He should have stood up for himself, defended his words. That is what the cadets did.

In his musings, the young boy wandered around the outskirts of the little village, peering into the trees. His humiliation forgotten for now, he thought a moment before walking into the wooded area. The woods were safe; they were not off limits until one got a few hundred yards in. Looking to make sure he was not being watched, he ducked into the trees.

It was all right for a while. He even relaxed and began to enjoy himself, as he walked on the warm, sun-dappled ground. The trees made conflicting shadows play across him as he walked, something he thought he could watch all day. But soon he began to warning woods: pieces of bark with bright red from the roisen flowers that warned of the approaching boundaries. There was a wood fence constructed that marked the actual borderline, and he stared at the warning in stark red.

No Erthrins ever went beyond that point. Ever. People said the land was bad; some said it was possessed by an evil that could not be seen. Some said both. Saber stared hard into the trees and frowned. "So what's so bad about it?" he said to himself. He saw nothing different, only more trees that continued on beyond the fence.

He started to pull away from the fence, when he froze, a sharp chill making its way down his spine. "berberberberberberb..."
His face paled, and suddenly feeling like he was being watched, he turned slowly around. "Wh-what..." he stammered. "Who-who....who's there?" He peered into the foliage, trying to see just what it was that was out there. Part of him didn't want to know, but part had to know.

For a moment, there was nothing, then Saber heard it again, suddenly much closer: "berberberberb..."

Saber's knees were shaking, and he felt a sudden screaming fear. He did not want to have anything to do with something that move so much closer to him without him knowing until it was too late. In his mind's eyes, he already saw some monstrous head popping up in front of him, screaming in his face...

The boy turned around abruptly and ran as fast as he could, and even as he ran, he heard the sound again, closer still. He ran faster, falling several times in his haste. The sound had been right where he would have been standing a moment before!
The boy did not stop running until he had gotten clear out of the woods and back in his own familiar village. He luckily did not meet anyone, or they would have asked why he looked like he had just seen a ghost. He would rather have seen ghost.

He had been gone only a couple of hours, but it felt like it should be past supper time again. Once he had calmed himself, he went and asked permission to visit in the other villages in their valley. He easily gained the permission, being admonished to come home before dark; and as it was almost summer, that gave him a lot of time.

He was not going to visit the other two villages of Erthrins, but the far village, by the Great Rock Cliff. He was going to visit the Bruters.

"Hello!" a teenaged Bruter five years or so older than Saber greeted him. "Have you come for a visit or business?" He spoke formally, as most of his kind did, but friendly. Saber was known to them.

Saber grinned. "Hi, Gret! I just came to visit. No trading or anything. You have guard duty again?"

Gret made a face, looked around to make sure he wasn't being watched, then leaned over and said in reply, "The head guard is a large ass." His feral-looking face was drawn down into a scowl of displeasure, and he swiped a mop of brown fur from his eyes.

Saber burst out laughing. It was said so seriously! "Get caught doing something you shouldn't?" he guessed. The face Gret gave him confirmed this. "Well...don't get caught next time!"

Gret finally laughed. "We will not. We have a better plan for next time."

Leaving the Bruter to his duty, Saber continued.

He was going to visit the chief of the town, an older Bruter called Nenda. He often spent time with the man, listening to stories. He loved to hear the old legends of the Bruters, who were among the oldest species on Fourth Earth, and whose ancestors had roamed most of the whole planet before the great Cataclysm. Nenda told the boy of strange places, and ancient events that were so old, no one knew if they were legend or fact.

"Hello, young Saber," the chief said with a small bow and a gesture with his hand like a good-bye wave. Saber repeated the gesture. That was one reason he enjoyed coming here very much: they showed him the same respect he showed them, even though he was a child. He felt he was an equal there. "Have you come to listen to stories?"

Saber grinned. "Have you got the time, Chief Nenda?"

Nenda laughed gently. "I always have time for my young guest. Please come in."

The pair of friends sat in the chief's dwelling, a simple but comfortable wooden building in the shape of a circle; a shape the Bruters believed connected them to the earth and the valley. "What would you hear of today, my young friend?"

"Well," Saber hesitated. "You can't tell anyone..." Nenda nodded. "But I went to the boundary...the west one." The west boundary was in his own village, the one in the woods.

Nenda raised a brow. "Such a brave endeavor. What happened? I have never been there myself."

Saber told the man of what he had heard, and asked if he knew what beast denned there. Nenda only frowned and shook his head. "I am afraid I do not know, young Saber," he said. "My people have never been beyond the boundaries either. We have only the legends of our ancestors. And even then, those legends are vague, and simple. Our people were not always as we are. We used to be almost beasts ourselves, and what stories we have are mostly images, feelings, simple words passed down." He gave the young boy a wry look. "How old are you now?"

"I've just passed the eleventh cycle," he replied. "Eleven seasons."

"Then perhaps you should find out for yourself."

What was he suggesting? No one went past the Western Boarder! But still... Saber blinked, and said nothing for a few moments. But he thought.

Saber and his friend spent the rest of the day talking, and the boy had supper with him and his family. The old man was the boy's closest friend; so far from himself in both age and species, but still the only one that really understood him. Some people back home did, but they thought what they understood about him silly, or foolish. Nenda thought neither.

"Thank you for supper," Saber said when they were done, and he stood and bowed his head in thanks to the chief's wife. "It was very good."

"You are welcome," she said kindly. "Travel safely, it is getting dark."

"And do not stop for any strangers," the old man added with a wink.

"I won't...and thanks again!" Saber ran, realizing it was late, waving to Gret as he ran.

He made it home in time to avoid a thrashing, but did miss out on dessert, a fact that Drii, his little brother, felt it his duty to remind him of over and over. He finally shoved the little boy into the house trough before heading back in, and felt pretty smug about not getting into trouble for it. Even his parents had to admit the child had asked for that one. Drii was not happy.
His journal that night had something more interesting in it at least,and mayhap in a week or so, something even more so. He hoped.

Iyen and his Father
Iyen

Unnamed Boy in Saber's village
Boy

Part 3: Gathering Day

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