Part II
A Priest
Kraz-Litso groaned softly as the litter-bearers helped hir into the basket. Ze could feel the vuul's warmth beyond the wicker, the gentle, heavy movement of its deep breaths. Ze had to pull hirself up to the lip of the container to see out, but the sight made hir smile. Izognus and Ukho were taking their places in the pack, acolytes tenderly lifting up their wrinkled old bodies and placing them into their respective baskets. Izognus had already dozed off. Kraz turned and saw Zaigyv across from hir, standing at least a head over the rest of the siim. Ze winked at Kraz.
"Even after harvest they can't leave us alone. I can hardly blame them. We always were the most beautiful."
Kraz couldn't help but laugh. It was true once. They were beautiful once. Very beautiful. Back then they were seven. In some ways it felt like it was only yesterday. Long mornings spent painting each other's backs in beautiful patterns before taking to the market. Starting water-fights as they scrubbed Zmeya's scales in the temple. The month-long stretches when they were in heat, a mass of laughing-moaning bliss, gleefully exploring each other's bodies. Everyone called them beautiful. Surely, there had never been a happier siim.
You could still see a hint of that beauty in Zaigyv now. Ze still stood tall and clean, with skin that did not sag and droop. But they were all old now. Old and sleepy and content. They were the priests now, and each day they watched new siimil laugh and work and grow to be as beautiful as labok could be.
A child had woken them. A little thing, no more than three. Ze had come into their chamber clanking a pot with a wooden spoon, crying that they were summoned in the temple, each word a lisp. In exchange for hir service, Ukho had given hir a shiny gold coin and a sweet yellow mushroom.
They were approaching the temple now, the vuul trundling through the heavy, embroidered curtains. A boney acolyte helped them onto the tall bench at the chamber's heart, circling a softly glowing heater. Kraz-Litso woke Izognus with a soft squeeze of the hand.
"It is a priest's duty to serve the hive, no matter the hour or cost or fright." Ze teased. Izognus chuckled. The wirey acolyte clapped for attention.
"Wise priests, we ask your council for one za-narod, an overfolk of the human hives of UPF, seeks emissary with you. Will you permit it?"
"Aye," called Zaigyv.
"Aye," called Ukho. The others followed suit.
The man who came in stood at almost twice the height of the acolyte, and he absolutely towered over the shrunken and hunched forms of the council before him. He had smooth-glassy looking hair that hugged his scalp, and wore those human robes of formality, with dark cloth and soft pale stripes running vertically down it. His skin was very pale, and his teeth were too. He wore a small metal badge colored in the red-black-yellow crosshatch of his tribe's flag.
"Hail to you, wise zmeyishil" He bowed, speaking a mixture of Lingua Franca and broken Yazak. Whenever he stumbled upon a foreign word he emphasized it, as though it would make them more important. "I bring sad news. My people own this rog. Your uley must move."
"What?" said Izognus.
"Our zmeyisha has claimed this land. You must leave."
"You cannot own a rog." Ukho's voice was full of condescension. "A mountain can be owned no more than a cloud."
Clearly this man was confused. Kraz cleared hir throat and spoke up.
"Uley do not move. Do your cities have legs? Or wheels?" The human opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Zaigyv.
"He does not mean the uley; he means the hive. He thinks our people should move." Izognus balked and spat.
"And while should pod-narod obey za-narod? Why should we give up the mountain?" The human blinked.
"My people's chairman has claimed this land. We do not have any systems in place to allow for your citizenship within the UPF, but we are willing to give-"
"There is no problem then," interrupted Ukho. Ze motioned to an acolyte and took their dataslab in hand. "Look, we have laws to allow for your presence here. You do not want the Uley, so as long as you maintain-"
"I'm afraid we cannot concede that. You presence would go against our laws. But please, we will give you great concessions for this. All you need-"
"We don't care about your laws!" Kraz-Litso coughed and wheezed. "We don't… We don't care about your laws. We don't care about your chairman, or your za-narodi people! And we do not care to hear whatever insult you have planned to give us in trade. Your people hate us. We know this well. And we will hate you in kind. Leave the mountain. She is not for you!"
No one spoke. In the distance, the sound of arguments, laughter, and barter echoed faintly. The child who had woken them stumbled into the room, rubbing hir eyes. Ze tugged on the robes of n acolyte.
"Are the priethtth angry?" The acolyte picked hir up, cradling hir in hir arms. They walked out, the acolyte cooing softly at the child. The human turned to the acolytes.
"Lead me away. I am sorry to hear that you will not even hear our proposal." An acolyte led him away. Zaigyv cleared hir throat.
"Zmeya needs to hear of this."