Dreams of Steel - Part 16

Sorry I didn't post sooner.  I'd claim that I was really busy, but that would be a lie.  I was just being lazy.  Anywho, my new word of the week:  caduceus.  Apparently this is a winged and be-snaked staff used by Hermes.  The description makes me wonder if it might actually be a reference to the "Rod of Asclepius," which is often mislabelled as the caduceus.  Enjoy!

--------------------

But the blow did not come.

The corueco gurgled.  Mikhon Tiq ventured a look.  The beast had moved back a step and had its yellow eyes fixed on something new.

A bluish light was reflected in the scales of its thorax.  Mikhon Tiq turned.  A few steps away, suspended over the surface of the creek, floated a figure enveloped in a luminous aura.  He was a tall man, dressed in a long cape over which fell a plait of white hair.  His bare feet were set on the water, but did not sink in it, like a ghostly vision, a will-o’-the-wisp of human scale.  The corueco growled, frustrated, and waved its arms in bravado, but did not dare to go one step further.  Gradually, Mikhon Tiq retreated toward the center of the current, away from the beast.

"Relax,” said a slow, soft voice.  “You no longer have anything to fear from that creature.”

Mikhon Tiq turned back toward the spectral figure, and at that moment he felt a prick in his hand.  When he looked, on the back he had a small wound that barely bled.  The pine needle had left him.

"Tonight the corueco must seek other prey."

Mikhon Tiq looked toward the bank.  The beast had climbed it and had already entered the bushes.  Its stench still lingered as it disappeared from sight.

Mikhon Tiq turned back to the stranger.  His ghostly glow was gone and he no longer floated over the water.  Still, even sunk to his knees, he stood nearly a head over Mikhon Tiq.  By the light of Taniar his features appeared sharp and long, like engravings in the rock of a cave.  He had his right eye covered by a dark patch and he carried a staff around which coiled a carved snake.

"I owe you my life."

"That's a privilege held by your parents, and I would not like to take it away," said the stranger, and he turned ready to walk away.

"Where are you going?"

The man turned halfway and pointed to an indefinite spot with his caduceus.

"Over there.  The same as you."

"How do you know where I'm going?"

"If you're a smart person you'll follow me."

Mikhon Tiq considered that an invitation and moved to walk behind his savior.

"Can I ask your name?" he ventured.

"Can you?"

"Are you Linar?"

The man stopped short and looked at Mikhon Tiq.  His eye seemed to shine in the dark.

"How do you know my name?  No one has uttered it for a long time."

“A man that you know told it to me,” Mikhon Tiq explained, pleased to have woken the interest of the stranger.  "Yatom."

The one called Linar pierced him with his lone eye.  The boy felt intimidated, but didn’t avert his gaze.

"You must explain this to me," said the mage.  "But not before we get to my dwelling."

As he walked behind Linar, Mikhon Tiq realized that he was fatigued.  Now that all fear had dissipated, his body wanted to relax and collapse on the ground, but the time to do it had yet to arrive.  Hang in there a little longer, he told his legs, and soon you will rest.  Although the presence of the mage intimidated him, something deep within told him he could trust him and that there was no longer anything to fear.

They arrived at a path that opened cleanly through the thicket.  Linar picked up the pace without looking back.  He made strides so long that Mikhon Tiq was forced to do short dashes to not be left behind.  On the left opened a meadow, from which came an intense and cloying fragrance, while to the right of the path stood a wall of cramped trees like soldiers in an infantry.  When they reached the top of a hill, Linar pointed with his finger.  There rose a strange tree.  Under the purple light, Mikhon Tiq noticed that it was formed of four trunks fused into one.

When they arrived in front of the tree, it seemed a dark cleft opened before them into a natural doorway.  Linar lowered his head to pass and Mikhon Tiq followed.  The interior lit up to receive them.  The light came from thin and winding lines that covered the interior walls and that were illuminated with a yellow radiance.

"It is the sap of the tree itself," said Linar.  "Welcome to my house, my young friend.  Take a seat and rest, as you will need it."

Mikhon Tiq sat on a natural bench that formed the inner wall of the tree and, with a sigh of relief, leaned his back against it.  He found himself in a small room, warm and dry, of irregular form.  To the left and right each crevice opened as a manner of door.  Linar disappeared through one of them without saying anything.  While waiting for his return, a warm stupor seized Mikhon Tiq.  He tried to keep his eyes open, as the heat was so sweet and the fatigue of his limbs so pleasant that he felt sleepy.