late Ashan, 708
Quio stood on the side of the river and waved as the sloop pulled away. On the deck of the ship a pair of biqaj waved back, one of them looking quite frantic as he did. The biqaj, Elja, continued to wave with too much feigned enthusiasm for as long as Quio could see him.
Quio kept his arm above his head, waving, waving, and when they turned the bend in the river and sailed out of sight, he put down his hand.
He looked around him, eyes settling down upon the surface of the river.
I can do this, he thought. He knew he could.
For the next ten trials, he would be on his own.
Two arcs ago Quio had really been on his own. His mother had died, his home had burned, and he'd been left in the forest to fend for himself. Before she'd died his mother had taught him what she could of survival, how to start fires and track animals and hunt, but he'd never had to do it alone. After she'd died he'd been by himself, a boy in the woods in the winter with nothing but his clothes and a knife, and when he'd finally gotten out of there, saved by a family of biqaj, he'd been little more than skin and bones.
He had told himself then that he would never go back to the forest. He'd been adopted by the biqaj; his mother was gone and he had to make a new life on the sea. If he didn't want to, he would never again have to set foot on dry land.
He'd told himself too that he would never, ever go back to Ne'haer.
Today he was going against the first of those promises.
On his fourteenth birthday season-last, nearly two years to the season that he'd been saved, he'd asked to be taught survival skills. Because maybe he had been scared of the forest, of ever going back. But he knew now what he hadn't then, when his mother had died and left him and he'd left her-- he needed to know the sort of things she'd tried to teach him. He needed to know them if he was going to survive.
He knew he did.
He didn't think Si'tony had thought it was a great idea but she was intuitive; she seemed to have undersood that he would do whatever he needed to learn these things regardless of whether or not she helped him. So she'd sent him to live with her cousin Elja Raj'ryn who had been like a brother to her growing up, and his human promised one Pike Tora'ouj. They would teach him what he needed to learn.
That was how he'd gotten to where he was at this moment.
For the last thirty days the three of them --boy and biqaj-- had been living off the land. They'd made a home camp together near the side of a river far, far south of the territory of Ne'haer. Elja and Pike had taught him a lot, from how to make simple tools, to fires, to traps and shelter. And trial-last he'd decided he wanted to try and do it on his own.
After some handwringing on Elja's part, they'd agreed to drop him off three trials' walk upriver. They'd planned to let him stay out by himself for a full ten days.
"If anything happens to ye," Elja had told him anxiously, "'Tony will kill me, so ye better no' getcher self hurt nor killed."
"I won't," Quio had told him.
"Greenhorn. Do watcher self ou' there." Elja had held him out at arm's length as if to get a final look at him. As if by looking at him he could tell if Quio was ready for this. Quio had already told him he was. "We'll be-- We'll be back'n ten days," Elja finally conceded.
"No more, no less," Quio had reminded him, and worry had crinkled the biqaj's worn face.
They called him greenhorn, a strange word in the Rakahi language which meant someone inexperienced. Maybe Quio hadn't been ready two years ago, and maybe he hadn't been ready even thirty trials past, but since then he had learned.
Despite having gotten Pike to promise to try and keep Elja in line, the fourteen year old suspected the biqaj man would break and try to convince her to come get him before the full ten trials was up.
And, having watched them sail downriver as Elja waved back, hardly able to contain himself-- yeah. Just in case they decided to come back early, Quio had to make the most of his time.
He felt calm, standing there on the bank of the river alone. Elja and Pike were good teachers, and thirty days was a long time to learn. He felt... prepared.
He knew he could do this but he had to prove it to himself. After that terrible winter two years past, he'd told himself that he would never starve again.
Quio stood on the side of the river and waved as the sloop pulled away. On the deck of the ship a pair of biqaj waved back, one of them looking quite frantic as he did. The biqaj, Elja, continued to wave with too much feigned enthusiasm for as long as Quio could see him.
Quio kept his arm above his head, waving, waving, and when they turned the bend in the river and sailed out of sight, he put down his hand.
He looked around him, eyes settling down upon the surface of the river.
I can do this, he thought. He knew he could.
For the next ten trials, he would be on his own.
Two arcs ago Quio had really been on his own. His mother had died, his home had burned, and he'd been left in the forest to fend for himself. Before she'd died his mother had taught him what she could of survival, how to start fires and track animals and hunt, but he'd never had to do it alone. After she'd died he'd been by himself, a boy in the woods in the winter with nothing but his clothes and a knife, and when he'd finally gotten out of there, saved by a family of biqaj, he'd been little more than skin and bones.
He had told himself then that he would never go back to the forest. He'd been adopted by the biqaj; his mother was gone and he had to make a new life on the sea. If he didn't want to, he would never again have to set foot on dry land.
He'd told himself too that he would never, ever go back to Ne'haer.
Today he was going against the first of those promises.
On his fourteenth birthday season-last, nearly two years to the season that he'd been saved, he'd asked to be taught survival skills. Because maybe he had been scared of the forest, of ever going back. But he knew now what he hadn't then, when his mother had died and left him and he'd left her-- he needed to know the sort of things she'd tried to teach him. He needed to know them if he was going to survive.
He knew he did.
He didn't think Si'tony had thought it was a great idea but she was intuitive; she seemed to have undersood that he would do whatever he needed to learn these things regardless of whether or not she helped him. So she'd sent him to live with her cousin Elja Raj'ryn who had been like a brother to her growing up, and his human promised one Pike Tora'ouj. They would teach him what he needed to learn.
That was how he'd gotten to where he was at this moment.
For the last thirty days the three of them --boy and biqaj-- had been living off the land. They'd made a home camp together near the side of a river far, far south of the territory of Ne'haer. Elja and Pike had taught him a lot, from how to make simple tools, to fires, to traps and shelter. And trial-last he'd decided he wanted to try and do it on his own.
After some handwringing on Elja's part, they'd agreed to drop him off three trials' walk upriver. They'd planned to let him stay out by himself for a full ten days.
"If anything happens to ye," Elja had told him anxiously, "'Tony will kill me, so ye better no' getcher self hurt nor killed."
"I won't," Quio had told him.
"Greenhorn. Do watcher self ou' there." Elja had held him out at arm's length as if to get a final look at him. As if by looking at him he could tell if Quio was ready for this. Quio had already told him he was. "We'll be-- We'll be back'n ten days," Elja finally conceded.
"No more, no less," Quio had reminded him, and worry had crinkled the biqaj's worn face.
They called him greenhorn, a strange word in the Rakahi language which meant someone inexperienced. Maybe Quio hadn't been ready two years ago, and maybe he hadn't been ready even thirty trials past, but since then he had learned.
Despite having gotten Pike to promise to try and keep Elja in line, the fourteen year old suspected the biqaj man would break and try to convince her to come get him before the full ten trials was up.
And, having watched them sail downriver as Elja waved back, hardly able to contain himself-- yeah. Just in case they decided to come back early, Quio had to make the most of his time.
He felt calm, standing there on the bank of the river alone. Elja and Pike were good teachers, and thirty days was a long time to learn. He felt... prepared.
He knew he could do this but he had to prove it to himself. After that terrible winter two years past, he'd told himself that he would never starve again.
"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Ulehi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Ulehi"
