The Awakening of James Island

James led Evan through a narrow passageway, coming out onto a rocky ledge that led down to the lowest levels. They came to an enclosure filled with gnarled trees; the tallest of which reached the far-off cave roof. Somehow light managed to find its way to the forest floor, peeking in from gaps in the rock and reflecting off shimmering pools, helped by glowing bugs floating around.

“What was that monster?” Evan asked after recovering from his thoughts.

“A terror that don’t know where it’s meant to be. It’s the only dangerous thing that comes in these caves, apparently. For the most part.”

Evan considered that. “How deep do these caves run?”

“Never looked that much into them myself. I been told there’re connecting cave systems that run from most of the surrounding mountains. Like the Old Tracks under the desert.”

“You said it was a mother?” Evan asked, hopping over a fallen tree trunk.

“That’s what they call it. The Wolden Mother. Though I ain’t heard of any offspring, thank you muchly. After the first time I saw it I didn’t wanna think too much about where she came from.”

“It does not show itself often?”

“No, hardly ever, as far as I’ve known. It’s supposed to sleep for most of the year, anyhow. So I’ve been told. But I’ve wondered if it just travels the land underground. Wherever it can fit, that is.”

Evan fell back into a silence. Eventually he voiced his thoughts. “They certainly do test us.”

“Who’s that, now?”

“The gods.” Evan kept his eyes ahead.

James found he had no words to respond with. He’d been reading up on gods and legends a lot lately, but it was still strange for someone to mention them so casually, as though they were people he knew.

“Thank you,” Evan said, looking up at him. “For your protection. I am truly grateful.”

“No problem. Couldn’t have anything happen to you after you came here looking for me.” James tried not to show how bizarre he thought he sounded. He sensed Evan wanted to say more, but must have decided otherwise.

A short tunnel opened onto a rocky terrain, where they slid down a steep rock wall onto a lower path. James climbed backward for part of it while Evan jumped the short distance to the winding path that led to the ground level. Traversing the mountain was also a great form of exercise for James, and along with his construction work duties, he’d been able to build a lean and defined body. Although he’d noted he was firmly muscled when first awakening, and had wondered what kind of work he would have done previously. If he had a past, that was.

Tiny fireflies spun around Evan’s head as they went through a short underpass. The Voarn flapped a small hand at the persistent specks, his expression a mixture of wonder and apprehension. James found himself stifling a laugh at the sight. Small animals watched the travellers with curious eyes, keeping low in the undergrowth. James noticed a particularly confident almir staring at them from a crevice in the wall, its wet nose and large, glimmering eyes gazing in wonder. He remembered once trying to pick one of the little critters up. It had wriggled and spun out of his hands, darting off into the bushes in a frenzy, leaving several scratches on his arm as a reminder not to try so again.

They reached the ground level, where a curved bridge of rock overlooked a glistening pool at the centre. Weeds and thin grass broke through some of the rock on the ground, through for the most part the area ahead was empty and quiet.

A new smell arose in the air as they arrived entered the clearing. Contrasting with the damp grass and muddy cave smells, this new aroma was sweet and, to James, somehow homely. Perhaps it would be reminiscent of a pleasant childhood memory—a cool evening with a fresh dinner brewing—if James had such memories.

They found the source of the smell emerging from a cooking pot suspended over a fire, with a cloaked figure tending to it. James slowed their approach. Tam had told him stories of mountain spirits around the woodland caves, some of which spoke of pleasant beings eating the souls of passers-by. While he knew them to be nothing more than old stories, he’d heard enough to prefer to keep a cautious mind.

The owner of the pot was dressed in ragged weather-worn robes of faded browns and greens. He sat on a fallen tree log next to his make-shift stove. A large pointed hat obscured his face, which was currently bent over the stew. The stranger lifted his head as they approached, revealing a lengthy white beard that covered most of his face. Cold grey eyes gazed upon them in wonder.

At first glance, James thought he was another Voarn, far older than Evan, with much sharper and longer ears - though something told James that he wasn’t exactly the same as Evan. Tam would call this one a shulpur, which meant unknown in Canthian, but was also used to mean a stranger when their intentions could either be good or bad, but not yet known which.

He appeared to be happy to see them, at least.

“Ho, welcome. You’re just in time.” His raspy voice had a thick, throat-clearing accent to it that James had never heard before. The old stranger breathed in deeply over the pot and smiled. “Excellent timing. Yes. The most fortunate of fortunes. Breakfast is ready. A wondrous time, to be certain. Please, join me.” He gestured to the pot with a wild wave of his hand and a firm, strict nod.

James felt Evan relaxed beside him, though he wasn’t so sure of the friendly shul just yet. “Our thanks,” James said, “but we must decline. We’re just passing through.”

“Aww. But no time for a pleasant meal?” The forest dweller sounded hurt. “You haven’t heard of my famous stew I gather?” He lingered on the word stew, making it sound like stooooooh. Chuckling, he pointed a crooked finger with spoon in hand at Evan. “The little one is famished. Come, please, sit, sit.” He waved another hand around the pot with a firm insistence.

Evan did look starved, it was true, and he was the first to sit opposite the pot on a well-placed second trunk. James went and sat nearer the stranger, preferring to be between him and Evan. Through the firelight, he saw the old Voarn-like being smile with satisfaction. His curved, heavily lidded eyes were startlingly deep, and seemed to ripple in a vast grey ocean.

“Good, good,” the old shul muttered. Goooohd, goooohd. James wasn’t even sure he could clear his throat as deep as that sound.

The stranger filled three clay bowls with what appeared to be a meaty stew. The aroma now enveloped the campground, filling James’s senses with a rejuvenating power.

Evan ate deep mouthfuls, clearly famished. James tentatively ate, and found the taste even more delightful than the smell. He could detect some local herbs within the broth, githi and veloqra, and a kind of potato that was smokier than he was used to. The meat tasted like hirrilon hare, although softer and meatier. If James thought about it longer, he might have realised he didn’t know any of the ingredients of the stew.

After a moment of silent eating, he felt confident enough to address the stew maker. Though he felt more relaxed now, he didn’t want to let his guard down. “I haven’t seen you around here before. You live here?”

The shul nodded, finishing a mouthful. “I myself am also a traveller. Won’t be staying here too long. Never stay too long. Just came for a spell. I must admit, though, I do very much like it here. There is something… homely, about it, would you not say?” His low voice was so powerful and controlled that James found himself nearly mesmerised, giving him his full attention.

“Are you heading into the city?” James asked.

“No, no,” the stranger shook his head, comically fierce. “I was never much for cities myself. Just passing through.” He smiled warmly and ate another spoonful of stew.

“You are an unknown race to me,” Evan said flatly. “Are you of an outcast tribe?”

“Evan―” James began, and made to apologise for his abruptness.

“No, no, no,” the shul told them with a dismissive wave. “A perfectly valid query from the young one, assuredly. You’ll not likely find my kind in great supply. Nay, I am of another… race, as you say. Neither outcast nor strange, to some eyes.”

“I meant no offense,” Evan told him. “It is simply surprising to meet such similar kin to me.”

The stranger gave a single nod. He cleared his throat, which was almost inaudible in its depth. “Tell me, you are of the Illan tribe, are you not?”

Evan’s shoulders rose and his voice filled with wonder. “Correct. You are familiar with the Illan?”

“That I am, lad. Have visited Daedalos many a time.”

“You know Daedalos?” Evan squeaked, raising his brows.

The fire played with the old stranger’s eyes, causing tiny flames to dance within their depths. James found himself in a kind of awe, somehow, of this strange old being at that moment. Whoever he was, he had a captivating aura. James decided to remain weary of him.

“Tell me; how far are we to Daedalos? From this… Carnan?” Evan asked eagerly.

“Oh, I am afraid you are a very long way from home, young one. Quite a journey you must have had to get here. Though I would fear not, for Andaano’s gaze extends to wherever her children step.” He aimed his spoon at them both. “I feel a strength within you, lad. Aye, a powerful intent. I have no doubt the gods look upon you both with great favour.”

Evan beamed, happier than James had seen him yet. Though he soon looked down, falling into thought.

The stranger began eating again, humming to himself. Some stew fell onto his grey and white beard. He began rubbing at it with a cloth but ended up absorbing most of it into his beard. The commanding aura that James thought he sensed from the old shul seemed to disappear.

The stranger’s bushy eyebrows tensed as his cold grey eyes fix on James’s toughlets.

“Work,” James said, raising an elbow. “They store tools. I work on construction sites in town. These are harmless, I assure you.”

The strange fellow kept his eyes on the toughlets a moment longer. When he noticed James still watching him, he nodded vigorously, grinning, and took another sloppy spoonful.

“They remind me of another age,” the shul told them. “Though I am sure their purpose was not for construction.” His voice trailed off into a thoughtful rumble. He regarded them both with a small smile spreading. “You remind me of another two. You do. Two brave souls, mighty warriors, they were. Though you would not know of them. It… brings a smile, to see another two such as you.”

“Our thanks,” Evan said, clearly brightened by the compliment. “I too believe that we are destined for great things.”

James remained silent. He didn’t want to encourage talk of the Voarn’s so-called mission and his own supposed greatness. Especially in front of the shulpur, who was growing stranger by the minute.

“Insightful, are the young.” A crooked smile shifted under the old man’s vast beard as he turned to James. “I would heed your friend, my young one. There is much he can show you. For much he will. Destined you both are, indeed. For are we all. Have no doubt. Hmmm.”

A shiver ran through James, remembering the deranged beggar who claimed the ability to tell the future. It seemed, from his words at least, that this stranger also thought he was somewhat sure of the future.

James was suddenly aware that he was surrounded by potentially dangerous strangers. Strangers in his sanctuary. He rubbed his pained throat, trying not to think about the dead beggar.

The fire crackled in the silence as they ate.

The sweet smells of the serene woodland reminded James of a lunch he once shared at the Medro Park with a few workers. He’d been invited out by Pete Sima, which was odd in itself because usually it was Sam Hawkings who invited him to tag along to work lunches. He remembered the day because it was the first time he’d seen Annabel, eating a boxed salad on a park bench. Nervous of being out and keeping conversation with his peers, James had found himself watching her eat - the sun on her shiny auburn hair, the sad set of her eyes. James had been half-laughing at a joke someone made, which he knew to do because everyone was laughing, when she left the park, crossing the road and heading into the Togg’s Tale tavern. It would be another two weeks before James saw her again, and a week after that before he’d speak to her. Eating around greenery always reminded James of Annabel.

He noticed Evan also smiling; a thin slanted smile that did not belong to the Voarn. James gasped at the strange sight, and Evan shook from his thoughts as if in response. Evan glanced guiltily toward him before turning and taking a quick spoonful of stew. James wasn’t sure what had just happened.

“This is delightful,” Evan told their host, raising his bowl, clearly trying to deflect James’s accusing stare.

“Many thanks, young one. Have not had much need to concoct it, as of late. It’s an old family recipe, so it is. Aye. For special occasions.”

“You have a gift for the stew, there is no doubt.” Colour had returned to Evan’s face as he scooped up the remainder of his stew.

Sensing it was time to go, James set down his bowl, surprised to see that it too was empty. “Well, I wish you luck on your travels,” he told the stranger as he stood. “Afraid we have to be going now. Many thanks for the stew. I’m not surprised it’s famous.” James paused with hesitation, and wondered if now was the time for the old man to reveal his darker side. If he meant them harm, now would be the moment to strike.

Instead, the shul nodded approvingly. “Ahh yes. Many obstacles to overcome and lessons to learn, the young have. Hmm.” This last sound was a deep rumble.

“Thank you, most kindly,” Evan said, rising and pressing his hands together as some form of respect.

The stranger’s smile creased his already heavily wrinkled features. “Gods be with you, young travellers. As I like to say, there is much to be gained from looking ahead, not back, when setting forth on a journey.”

James resisted the urge to shake his head at the strange words. Suddenly everyone sounded like they were in a mythological story. If this old fellow wasn’t the same race as Evan, he certainly spoke like the Voarn.

“Safe travels to you also,” James told him.

They left the forest dweller in his place and heading for the cave exit.

James was relieved there was no hidden side to the pleasant shul, and had to admit that he was glad they stopped to taste the stew. Evan must have had similar thoughts, as he seemed in good spirits.

***

The forest dweller finished his stew after they’d left. He sat in silence for a moment, his hand hidden within his beard, resting on his chin, and stared into nowhere. With a small flourish, a gust of wind blew from his fingertip and extinguished the fire. Its remaining smoke swept up in the wind and swirled into nothing.

He gave out a low, forlorn sigh and began gathering his things.