Chapter 20 — Sage, Part 1
I stood up. The man, stumbling fresh from the darkness and out into our clearing, was not whom I had expected to see.
I hadn't expected to see anyone at all, but he was particularly unusual. He was raggedly dressed in Durnian-styled robes, though he was darker skinned than I expected Durnians to be, to the point that he almost looked Oleran. His hair was grey, but the youthful sort of whitish black that made sense for someone with a face that young. He couldn't have been over thirty. At least, that's what my eyes told me. I had seen people before with the same look in their eyes as this man, people who had well outlived their thirties. You were more likely to run into someone who claimed to live over a hundred years than to actually run into someone who wouldn't have been lying with that claim. But those who did shared a look in their eyes. I didn't recognise it then, I was too delirious from thirst, but in the coming weeks, I eventually would think back to him with that realisation.
His skin had no bite marks at all, and despite his roughshod clothes, he didn't look like he'd almost died in the dark. Instead, he carried a walking stick, and his stumbling out of the dark seemed like it could have just been him tripping on a root. Around his belt swung a small pouch with live herbs inside, and a small canteen as well.
"Water," I managed through my cracking throat.
He looked at me, as though just realising we were there, and handed me his canteen. I drank a sip before moving to pass it to Jenny, but he stopped me. "More," he said. "It's enchanted."
I paused, then took the canteen back and drank deeply. The water messily splashed down my neck like I had flipped the canteen upside down. The effort left me gasping and coughing for air.
Jenny gave me a concerned look, so I passed it to her. She drank as deeply as I did, if not more, and kept the canteen hovered at her mouth even as she slowed down to prepare for another gulp.
"Don't drink too much," said the man. "You need food in your system to balance it."
"Do you have any?" I panted.
The man shook his head.
"Thank you, stranger," I said. "Now, who are you?"
He was closer to the kinstone now, examining its surfaces intently. He didn't answer me right away, instead taking his time to pour over the stone with something akin to tenderness. He cared for the statues like some people cared for their belongings, or perhaps their pets. I stopped myself from thinking his love for it was anything close to what many would deem as love for their family, but the way he brushed his fingers over it could have fooled me.
When he got to the cracked finger, he stopped. He'd noticed it right away, I think, and saved it for last, almost as though he'd been expecting to find it. I had never seen it on any kinstone before, and assumed it unique to this one.
"Vox," he said at last, quickly removing his hands from the stone.
"What?" asked Jenny, winded from her drinking.
"My name," he said, taking his canteen back. "Vox."
"Thank you, Vox," I said. "You just saved our lives."
He nodded bluntly. "This Hunak had me worried," he said. "I saw it go up. I've been waiting for it to come down."
"Why has it been up for so long?" asked Jenny.
"I don't know," he said. "There could be a witch sustaining it past its natural life cycle. Or someone might have extended it artificially. I had to walk through it to get here."
"Little desperate to pass though," said Jenny. "You could have waited. We'd be dead, but it would have cleared eventually."
He smiled. "I have ways of navigating Hunak, even one that would manifest shades."
"I wouldn't mind knowing some of that," I mumbled, still wincing from the bite marks all over me.
He had a moment of pause, as though he'd only just now seen our injuries. "Lef," he said, and the bite marks cleared. I looked over at Jenny in amazement, and hers did too.
"You know magic?" I asked. It seemed like the obvious thing, this man who could walk through Hunak, but my healed wounds left me amazed all the same.
Vox didn't answer, he just smiled.