I wish I could say that I wasn’t there with the crowd, consumed by unhealthy curiosity, but I couldn't resist the chance to see a feral. In Ozellium, they were only allowed within one district, and my father ensured I never got close to “those primitives,” as he used to call them. So I rushed to the settlement's gates to watch the feral enter confidently. I admit feeling a bit ashamed, and I stayed between the buildings at first. But being unable to see, I ended up climbing on some crates piled against a shed. In the end I had a better view than most of the crowd at the gates.
I think it was a female, though I couldn’t tell for sure, as she had a snout and copper-hued fur all over her body. Her garment was leather-made with lots of fringes and bone bead embroidery. Her golden varispected eyes glittered in the sun as she looked around with confidence. Only after a closer look, I noticed obsidian-like claws and a long, thin tail resembling that of a flene.
“I am here by the request of a fearn named Tarish,” she spoke loudly in low tones that resembled a fearn's voice. She spoke our language, but her accent was so heavy and unfamiliar to me that it took a few moments to understand what she meant. “I am here to see to his daughter’s health.”
A displeased murmur travelled through the crowd, but no one stepped forth or replied. So, the feral stood by the gate looking around for at least a few minutes. Finally, a small figure pushed through the crowd, and I saw Sil Karia in her best garment with her shirt tightly tucked and a blue bow by her neck.
“Come with me,” she said simply, and although no signs of displeasure showed on her face, I knew she was not happy with the turn of events.
It only then dawned on me that this was the topic of the discussions she had with Tarish. The words I overheard by chance now made sense: they were arguing of whether to ask ferals for help with Miye.
Sil Karia turned, and the crowd parted as the tribal followed our physician.
I quickly jumped off the crates and rushed to the infirmary. I knew that most likely I wouldn’t be allowed inside, but no one could forbid me peeking through the window, especially if they didn’t even know I was there. Karia usually left the window ajar to allow the fresh air in, so with a little luck, I’d be able to listen too.
I made it just in time. The feral was approaching Miye. Sil Karia was at the door, hesitant whether she should enter or not, but she let out a yell of protest when the feral whipped out a short bone knife. It was all Karia managed to do before the blade marked Miye’s forearm drawing blood. I watched the narrow red stream trickling down her arm in horror and Sil Karia rushing to stop the bleeding. Even more terrifying was watching the feral calmly step away, allowing the physician to get to the patient while inspecting the blade’s tip with squinted eyes. To my surprise, the feral wiefearn sniffed the blood carefully. I almost expected her to lick it, too.
“All those salves and concoctions of yours will do no good,” the voice was deep and guttural like an echo in a cave. “They will only make things worse and drag out her pain.”
Squatting by the edge of the window and hoping I wouldn’t be spotted, I could still clearly see Karia's face turning red with anger. She straightened up and looked at the feral.
“I beg your pardon, Sil—” she started, aggravated.
“My name is Ish-Thrann,” the feral interrupted her. “And I am referred to as a shaman. All other titles are just artificial fearn inventions.”
“What gives you the right to judge my methods?” Karia demanded. “I’ve been trained by the finest of Ozellium scholars!”
“So I see.” Ish-Thrann did not look impressed. “If my help is not needed here, and you think you can help the young wiefearn, I shall take my leave. Otherwise, it is you who should leave and let me work.”
I could see that Sil Karia was waging an inner battle with herself, pride against the truth. For Miye’s sake I hoped she would not be stubborn.
“Fine,” Karia finally gave in. “Do your best, feral.”
With those words, she left the room.
Ish-Thrann reached in her bag and took out a small stone bowl, a piece of rock that had been patiently carved and polished until it was smooth.
She placed some dried herbs in the middle and lit it on fire with two stones. A gentle smoke rose from the bowl almost instantly, and the smell soon travelled to the window where I stood. It was a pleasant aroma of meadow flowers and honey, and from what I could tell from the effect it had on me, it was supposed to calm and soothe. The shaman placed the stone bowl on the dresser and took out a tiny wooden cask from her bag. From what I could see, there was nothing more than greenish mud inside, and I felt disgusted watching the shaman smear the mixture over the cut on Miye’s forearm.
“It will stop the bleeding,” she said aloud, to my surprise. She was moving the back of her claws gently over Miye’s forehead and cheeks. “And ensure no inflammation will start, although I wouldn’t worry about it too much. How long has she been in this state?”
Only when she spoke the last words did she look directly at me.
“About a month, Sil ... shaman,” I corrected myself, as there was no point in pretending I wasn’t eavesdropping. I could feel my cheeks and ears burning with shame.
She simply nodded.
“No reason to stay outside,” she said making an inviting gesture.
It was enough for me, my curiosity being stronger than any other compulsion. I climbed in through the window.
It was then, when I had a closer look at her, I could say she was definitely a female despite the animal-like features, although it made my cheeks burn again when I started wondering whether her breasts were covered with fur too. I noticed darker lines on her face, which made me wonder if they were natural, or if she dyed her fur. They curled on her cheekbones in mysterious shapes, making me think of sailors' tattoos.
“Is ... is Miye going to die?”
She paused and withdrew her hand from Miye’s face. For a moment she stared at the wiefearn lying down in the bed, and my heart kept throbbing as I awaited the answer.
“No.” Ish-Thrann’s one word reply made me sigh deeply. “She is not going to die.”
That was enough to relieve the burden I’d been carrying for days. I was so comforted to learn this, so overjoyed or maybe even overwhelmed with happiness, that a strange tone in the shaman’s voice escaped me back then. Only later, months, even years, after these events, when the scene returned in my memories, it became clear to me that Ish-Thrann was hiding something from me. Maybe she wasn't even doing it to deceive; maybe I was too focused on myself to understand the message, to ask the right questions. While I rejoiced in the good news, I didn't think to inquire how she could know that Miye would recover, and more importantly, what my friend was suffering from. Now, looking back at those early years, I still curse myself for such carelessness.
“She will sleep now for a couple of days,” said the shaman. “And then she will recover if that unruly wiefearn outside decides to listen to my advice,” she added with a displeased tone. Then her varispected, honey-gold eyes stared straight at me. “When both moons’ faces brighten up to full circles, come at night and visit your friend. She should be awake by then.”
I stared with little understanding, and before I could ask for some explanation, Ish-Thrann was already leaving. I heard her giving some instructions to Sil Karia, whose displeased voice echoed through the wall. As curious as I was, I fought off the urge to eavesdrop. It was better to make sure that our physician didn’t know I was there at all, so I hastily made my escape through the window.
~~~~~
Ish-Thrann’s words were true. Miye slept for a couple of days, not in a half-conscious slumber filled with pain and unknown nightmares, but a rest of someone regaining their strength. Sil Karia walked around with a displeased face, but apparently she followed the shaman’s advice.
I went about my life performing duties and helping out my father who was working on new irrigation systems for our fields, but when the full moons came,
I made my way to the infirmary. This time luck didn't accompany me; the window was closed. I was ready to turn back, swallowing my disappointment, when I thought I noticed something moving in the dark. A few moments later my eyes caught the faint heat signature of someone getting out of bed. Risking the chance, I gently knocked at the window.
It was a few moments before Miye opened the window and let me in. I was happy to see her in good form, but she simply turned away, walking toward a pile of clothes neatly folded on the chair.
“We need to get outside,” she said simply, as if we were just talking about stepping out of a tavern to catch a breath of fresh air.
“Outside?” I uttered. All the words, the news I had to share, my reassurances that I knew she’d be alright, all sunk into confusion.
“Outside of Galstead, of Tregallia province,” she explained as she pulled a shirt over her night gown. “You are going with me, aren’t you? Otherwise, why would you come?”
I wanted to explain the whole story, the shaman’s words, even my feelings for her, but a quiet rumble from behind the wall reminded me where we were. Should Sil Karia wake up, we would not get a chance to talk, not to mention the trouble I would get myself into for sneaking into the infirmary. Having all this in mind, I simply nodded, and Miye’s face brightened. She struggled for a moment with her breeches, and I struggled with whether to help her, or turn away to offer some privacy as she dressed. I did neither, and Miye didn’t seem to care. So I just stared at her body while she readied herself, feeling my cheeks burning but refusing to look away.
Through our short journey along Galstead’s streets, as Miye did her best to avoid the settlement guard and anywhere well lit by the two moons, I tried to convince her to stop and maybe explain something. But her focus was so determined and persistent that I simply followed her outside. She knew her way around, and even though I believed it was impossible to sneak in or out of the fence, Miye proved me wrong.
When I felt the harsh wood of the palisade behind me, staring at the darkness in front of us, I finally stopped and refused to follow. Miye turned to look at me when she realized I wasn’t moving, but the surprise on her face was quickly replaced by an understanding smile. She gently held my hand.
“It's safe,” she reassured me in a soft whisper while my fears drowned in the smell of her breath. “I’ve done this before.”
Her voice, so alluring, so gentle... Even though my Ra was ready to point out that somehow doing “this” had gotten her sick, my In was ready to follow Miye anywhere, and I think she knew it. With all the expertise of an experienced scout, she led me to the dark line of the forest — the lookouts on the palisade never even knew we were there.
Of course, even though there was something seductive in her voice and behavior, I had no doubt this night was not going to fulfill a young fearn’s most secret dreams, but the mystery I had become a part of, the riddle that I was about to solve, kept me going. And in the end, Miye was right. The forest, although dark and full of the unknown, seemed to be safe and quiet. Every once in a while I looked around expecting to see oskrin gems glowing in the night, but there were none. It even made me wonder if all the fearn in Galstead were afraid of some child’s tale. Some of the settlers claimed they saw oskrin, but that was days ago. I started to doubt whether the danger was real at all.
We entered a small clearing. The bushes rustled as we pushed our way through them, and I was distracted enough at first that I didn't see where Miye was leading me. But as soon as I realized what I was looking at, my whole body froze at once.
The creature was not big, maybe Miye’s size, though its long, thin tail made it look bigger. Its skin was pitch black with large teal gems glowing faintly in the dark. It turned its head toward us as we approached. It tried to move, but something held it in place.
“Berjor’s nets!” I whispered as the understanding dawned on me.
Shortly after our arrival at Imheria an older fearn named Berjor declared he was going to catch an oskrin. He claimed that a certain scientist in Ozellium would pay good coin for a live specimen from Imheria. I didn’t understand why he would do that since an oskrin was an oskrin, and we still had some in the sewers back in Ozellium. But Berjor argued it was for “studying differences between oskrin subspecies.” Most of the settlers laughed at the idea, but Berjor journeyed into the forest setting out countless traps made of nyte netting. He checked them regularly, but as weeks passed, and the nets remained empty, he simply left them be. And when the actual sighting of an oskrin occurred, he claimed there was no point in going into the forest anymore, as the traps were surely destroyed. Some fearn laughed, thinking he was simply too scared to go, but no one said it openly.
The thought that an oskrin fell into one of his traps made me smile bitterly.
“He got trapped, and he can’t get out,” explained Miye. “I wasn’t strong enough to help him.”
I looked at her in horror. The tone of her voice, the way she spoke ... as if it was her favorite gin, or maybe a poor, young doobi, not a deadly monster. Is this why she lured me here? To help her?
“Miye, it’s an oskrin!” I stated the obvious and couldn’t help wondering which part of it she didn't understand.
“He’s in pain. He can’t go back to his den,” she said with sadness in her voice. “But now I am strong enough to help him.”
“When did you find him?” I asked trying to buy some time and find a way out of the situation. I watched the creature, still afraid it might somehow dart out and attack us, and then I noticed it looked very thin, nearly famished.
Miye thought about it for a moment.
“Some days ago,” she finally replied, “before my In got unwell. I tried to help him, but didn’t have enough strength. He made me strong so I could free him, and we could go away from Galstead,” Miye paused and looked me in the eyes. “And you can go with us too.”
I think this was the time when I took a step back. I didn’t know what was going on, and my curiosity and will to accompany Miye were now dimmed by the sight of a very real monster that apparently tried to use my friend to get free. How? Some kind of poison, or a disease? Did this creature make Miye sick?
“Miye, it’s an oskrin!” I repeated myself in vain. I understood then that it was not the creature that manipulated my friend. It was as dumb as any beast. I was just willing to believe it so because I refused to accept the truth: Miye was crazed, and she was about to set a monster free.
She ignored me, approaching the oskrin, and I jumped forward to grab her arm, ready to pull her away. I realized that I made a mistake agreeing to help her, that a mature fearn would behave responsibly and wake Sil Karia. I felt ashamed that I failed everyone by acting so childishly, and I was ready to make things right.
I was not ready to fly five units backwards when Miye brushed my hand off, releasing her arm from my grip with ease. A young wiefearn who was bed-ridden for days managed to free herself from a nearly adult fearn. She looked at me for a moment, and I could swear I saw a teal glare in her eyes. It could have been the moons’ light reflecting in them, but it was too much. Confused and scared, I ran back to Galstead. My imagination fed my fears with pictures of oskrin attacking from the darkness, but contrary to my expectations, I made it to the palisade safe and sound.
I don’t know if anybody saw me that night wandering through the town, and I didn’t really care. I didn’t stop until I snuck back into my bed, hoping that familiar surroundings would ease my racing mind and throbbing heart. I tried to convince myself it was just a dream, that I never went to the infirmary, and all that happened was nothing more than a realistic nightmare.
I lied to myself, and then I lied to the others when I went to visit Miye as usual the following morn. Part of me hoped that she would be there, maybe still unconscious but in her bed, but the memories of the previous night were still fresh. I don't know how I managed to pretend I was shocked at the news she had disappeared, or how I survived those days we went out looking for her
. Nobody ever questioned me, and they all saw in me just a young fearn who lost his dear friend.
~~~~~
Days passed, then months, then years. Galstead survived two plagues that Sil Karia was so afraid of, and even though the second pestilence took my father and other decent fearn, we slowly grew and expanded far beyond the palisade we had built the first year. Poor Tarish drank himself to death, never having come to terms with his daughter's disappearance. Harrevith took the post of Elder after his father. I watched him stand in the crowd looking on as poor Karia was burned to death, accused of using psykaotic powers. If I hadn’t known better, I would never have guessed those two were lovers in the past.
As for me, I started a successful business trading with feral kind and selling some of their craftwork to Ozellium. Their tribes suffered harsh winters as well, and as Galstead grew and took more and more resources, ferals were willing to trade some of their totems and trinkets for supplies. Sometimes I felt guilty about us fearn bringing them such fate in their own land, but then I thought at least I was helping them survive. Every once in a while I asked about a shaman named Ish-Thrann, but none of my contacts knew of her. Or they just weren’t willing to help me.
Over the years, the oskrin sightings became quite regular. There weren’t that many attacks, unless someone ventured deep into the wilderness. I wonder about the true nature of those creatures and if they were really the bloodthirsty beasts some fearn described. Maybe we made them so by pushing them into a small part of the sewers? Maybe they were just like other animals?
I kept my study quiet, as many fearn did not like those who dare to question common truths. And many of them were quick to set fire to someone tied to a stake. I did not wish to end my life this way.
I gathered what meager knowledge I could without attracting too much attention and kept coming back to that night when I saw Miye for the last time. I couldn’t help wondering what would have happened if I stayed, if I didn’t let my fear govern my actions.