Tale: Meeting in Kinigi

The Deitic’s skull exploded wonderfully between the Veth’s claws, shimmering gas disappearing into the thin atmosphere and sparkling fluids dripping down each long, terrifying talon. This Deitic had been lucky to have a swift execution.

Arkay dutifully cleaned the ancient fluids off his claws. It had been a good hunt, but as always, too short. Like all Veth, there was nothing Arkay enjoyed more than chasing his prey across Kinigi. This time had felt like a normal hunt… apart from the appearance of the observing mortal.

He’d seen the mortal before. It had been a long time since he’d seen it though. It used to arrive periodically, mutter words to itself, leave a pile of papers under a rock it had carefully decorated, before wandering away again. Every time Arkay had tried to follow the mortal, wondering if it was trying to interfere with the River, only to find that it would leave on its own. Worse, Arkay was never capable of confronting it. The mortal would always flee before he got too close.

Even among Veth, there were stories and myths, many about strange mortals that just watched periodically. Most of them ended with the mortal no longer coming back, as is the way with their short lifespans.

Once again, the mortal was muttering to itself. This time though, it was waiting and watching. Arkay decided to go in for a closer look.

The mortal seemed hesitant, but stood its ground. As Arkay approached it, he realised they were similarly sized. The mortal was a Panvok, but he wasn’t sure of the species name. It was smaller than Arkay, red with heavy golden armour. It was no longer muttering.

As with standard procedure, Arkay started reciting the same phrase, every time in a new language. He couldn’t really speak any these languages apart from the Vethic language, but he had to warn them of their fate if they remained.

“You do not belong in the realm of Kinigi. Leave now or join the River.”

As Arkay spoke in a language that seemed vaguely familiar to him, the mortal interrupted his warning.

“Unfortunately for me, Arkay, I’ll never join the river…”

Arkay was taken back. He quickly drew his large, gold and yellow bow and aimed it at the mortal. The mortal raised a hand, trying to show that he was not there to harm anyone.

“Who are you and how do you know my name?” Arkay growled, drawing the string of his bow ever more taut.

The creature sighed, as if it had expected something else to happen. “I’m sorry, Arkay, I forgot that you don’t remember your old life…” It rummaged inside a small bag hanging from its waist and pulled out a Vethic Marker, a shape cut from silver with a single coloured gem embedded in it. Vethic Markers were the only link a Veth had to their former mortal life. “The A’vatas said I could borrow this so I could speak to you.”

Arkay stepped back and put his bow away. He reached around his neck, where his own Marker hung from a thin chain. The two Markers were identical, apart from the gem in the middle. Once again, Arkay repeated his question.

“Who are you?”

The edges of the creature’s lips turned upwards, baring several gold and black teeth. It seemed to be happy. “I’m Retvik. We used to work alongside one another as Dessaron until you died…” The happiness quickly faded away. “We spent so long together, Elksia, Tenuk and I felt so horrible when you were taken from us. Although we are destined to join you one day, we still feel bad for your loneliness, so I’ve been bringing you messages, stories, written notes every year…”

“You were missing…” Arkay was not sure where this was going. The names sounded… familiar. Homely. Warm. Like all Veth, he yearned to remember even little pieces of his past. Many remembered small bits. No matter how hard the A’Vatas tried, they could never truly purge them. And after all this time, he hadn’t realised that the mo- Retvik had been leaving messages for him.

“Ah yes… Unfortunately things have been hectic for us. My partner Gath and I have several kids now, as does Elksia. You can’t leave kids unattended for these dangerous journeys, but as our youngest has just joined the young Stratos, we have more free time now. Have you not read our messages?”

Arkay turned away. Some of it, mere fragments, had returned to him. “… No, I have not. I cannot.”

“Why?” Retvik asked.

“I cannot read your writing. Veth cannot read or write. Veth can barely speak…” Arkay admitted. It was true, Veth were intelligent, but their communicational abilities were always severed at birth, to keep thoughts of their former mortal selves away.

“Well, considering that, you speak quite articulately, Arkay! I was going to leave more messages and felt I needed to explain my absence.”

The Veth glanced around, checking his surroundings. Finally, he edged closer to Retvik, removing the bow from his back. From a tiny compartment in the handle, he pulled something out. They were old messages Retvik had left him. “I have the old ones. Never knew what they were.”

Retvik patted Arkay on the head. “I can’t stay for too long but… would you like me to read them to you, help you learn how to read?”

“I…” Arkay glanced around one last time, before sitting down next to Retvik. “I would like that.”

Retvik grinned as he pulled out the oldest letter and started reading.