creatures lived. The first Firaskians must have been exceptionally brave people to live there. What were they fighting for, why didn’t they settle on a safer spot? Freedom. That was the answer. The dangerous place they chose for their city was their ticket to independence from both South and North allowing them to stay within the territory of stable magic at the same time.
Hard times create strong people, the proverb says. True. Malconemershghan was one of them.
He left Firaska when Sereg the Grey Inquisitor took him as an apprentice but he kept the Firaskian spirit in his heart. If the Grey Inquisitor hadn’t killed him and destroyed his followers, the whole North would have been as free now as the old Firaska was. Was. Because Firaska became an ordinary Southern city and lost its freedom forever.
“Who’s been in the North?” Orion asked, looking around.
For a while, the boys were silent, then Kosta Ollardian spoke up in a quiet, quivering, wheezy voice, the kind of voice someone with a chronic illness might have.
“I’ve been in the North once,” he said. “It’s crazy cold there. I was ill for the whole journey. My father says that the North is a bad place. He hated it when grandfather sent him there.”
“My master says there’s,” Jarmin took a deep breath, “CEN-SOR-SHIP!” he said in a loud whisper. “What’s censorship, Orion? Is it an evil ghost ship?”
Someone snorted, stifling his laughter, behind Orion’s back. Orion kept his cool.
“No, Jarmin, it just means that there are some things you are not allowed to say and write in that country,” he explained. “I don’t think their censorship is that bad, though. I’ve been in the North several times and they definitely have way fewer shitty books in their bookstores. Maybe the South needs a little bit of censorship too.”
“Well, our dear Sainar would strongly disagree with you, I’m afraid,” said Lainuver with a sly smile.
The weather was warm, the company was merry, and the road was easy, but even with all things perfect, you can’t walk from Magrove forest to Firaska in a single day. By the evening, the boys had to camp.
Judging by the clouds gathering in the sky, it was going to rain, so they had to find a proper shelter if they wanted to stay warm and dry that night. But where could they find one in the smooth grassland between the Lifekeepers’ holy place and the nearest city? There were trees, of course – a thin diadem here – and there but they were no help.
The boys kept walking. They were no longer joking around: the possibility of spending the night in the rain was no fun. In an hour or so, a rather promising purple-white spot got Juel’s attention and he ordered his unit to leave the road and head there.
The bright spot turned out to be a circle of ten slender diadem trees. Most likely, a lonely traveller had camped there once, ate a sugary diadem fruit, and planted the seeds – or maybe just thrown them away. The trees that had grown out of those seeds were beautiful, a very welcome sight in the middle of endless green, only their crowns weren’t thick enough to offer any cover from the rain. But, with nowhere else to hide, the young Lifekeepers made their camp there.
They piled their backpacks in the middle of the tree circle and spread a couple of extra blankets over them so they wouldn’t get drenched in case the weather indeed decided to take a nasty turn. Jarmin, the brave six-year-old who had been keeping up with his grown-up companions the whole day without even a peep, dozed off right there by the backpack pile. The others sat on the ground, leaning against the trees, or just sprawled on the grass.
Rainy forebodings aside, the evening was beautiful. Bala wholeheartedly enjoyed it. Orion, nervously chewing on a grass blade, kept looking around, still hoping to think of some solution to their shelter problem. Juel was doing the same, only in a less obvious way. In his relaxed but watchful state, he resembled a charga, the big cat Faizuls like so much. Pai and Kosta moved closer to Oasis to ask him for more stories. Lainuver sat beyond the circle, cross-legged, his back to the group, thinking of something personal that seemed to be troubling him way more than the incoming rain. Irin had walked away and was currently shooting birds with his bow. From time to time, a painful squeak reached the diadem shelter; the hunt was going well.
Milian happened to end up being all alone. Not that he minded it, though. To him, a bookish boy, that day had been a serious overdose of human interaction. He felt emotionally drained now and just wanted to be by himself for a while. Milian decided not to walk far away; leaning against a diadem tree behind the backpack pile and putting his hood on was enough.
There was a moment when he lifted his eyes to the cloudy sky grumbling above the thin purple-white crowns and a stray thought entered his mind: these slender diadem trees could make a fine roof if someone would tie them together. And if this someone would also cover that roof with several blankets, just like they did with the backpack pile…
Milian Raven liked the idea at once. He stood up, tried to bend one of the trees. Yes, the trunk was flexible enough! Now he just needed to get help. That meant addressing one of the leaders. Milian chose Orion at once.
“Orion? Orion!” Raven tugged at his sleeve.
“What’s up?” Orion yawned.
A brief explanation later, to everyone’s surprise, Milian and Orion grabbed two coils of rope from the backpack pile and started bending the trees. The rest of the team watched them with distrust at first but then they got it: they were going to sleep under a roof after all! Everyone joined the building process, even Juel. Little Jarmin, woken up by the commotion, found himself inside a beautiful living tent of branches and flowers.
Their spirits high again, the boys got back to lively talking, mostly about what to make for dinner. Juel left that matter to Bala who seemed to know a thing or two about cooking and actually making food taste nice.
A true Lifekeeper is always observant, even in little things. Especially in little things. And Juel was a true Lifekeeper. He noticed that Milian had brought his idea to Orion and not him. That would not do. It was time to start setting things right.
“Good job, man!” Juel patted Milian on the shoulder, hoping that the praise sounded as sincere as he wanted. “Just one thing: in the future, if you have something important to say, come to me first. Keeping the leader uninformed can be dangerous to the whole team.”
“Okay,” Milian shrugged. “Whatever you say…”
“Jarmin!” Juel turned to the little boy. “I want to apologise for that joke I made yesterday. It was stupid. Please, forgive me.”
He said no more, leaving his companions to their thoughts. While the whole gradient of moods and opinions was shifting and rearranging behind his back, Juel grabbed his backpack from the pile, unrolled his sleeping bag, and started preparing for the night. He knew he was doing the right thing now, both for the mission’s and his own sake. Juel had hated Sainar’s decision to send him on this very questionable journey with a bunch of children. Now, he had finally made peace with that.
“Those guys are not all that bad,” he told himself. “They’re all my brothers of the Order. They’re all warriors, even the youngest ones. Maybe even little Jarmin is worth something, we’ll see; he is a powerful ambasiath too, after all… As to me, my master has always said that I must learn to keep my pride in check. All right, I will. Trust can be powerful, so let’s make them trust their leader.”
The wayfarer soup the young Lifekeepers had for dinner
