The Tales of Tamil - Uh, Talimor

"I don't suppose you have a phone I can use?" The warrior woman squints at you, confused, but the young Blonde girl approaches you happily. Still speaking a language you don't understand, she gently grabs your hand and pulls you toward the cave's exit. With nowhere better to go, you allow her to lead you.

At first, the warrior collects the candles, using their low light to guide your path. With no way to communicate in their language, you simply turn the flashlight back on, lighting your path through the dark cave.

The warrior is cold, distant, and wary. As you follow along, you glance up periodically, just able to see the untrusting eyes of the fierce woman glaring back at you. By contrast, the younger girl is bubbly and happy, bursting with smiles and energy. As they lead you through the cave, she speaks continually, chattering in her language. Only occasionally does the warrior respond with 'Seadh' or 'mhmm'. You make a mental note of that, assuming 'seadh' means 'yes.'

After walking for maybe thirty seconds and making only one turn, you hear a distant rumbling in the cave. Soon you recognise the familiar sound of rushing water. The two women lead you out of the cave from behind a waterfall, into the open night. A river flows below, snaking through a forest of evergreens. Pillars of stone flank the river near the waterfall, with strange marks and insignias adorning their stone faces. You're grateful to have worn your sneakers as the three of you pick your way down a path in the cliffside. It's night time in this world as well, and with no moon to speak of, your flashlight is the key to navigating down the rocky cliff face to the grassy field below. You can't imagine what a nightmare this journey would be by candlelight. More than once, you stop and light the feet of the two women as they climb through a particularly difficult spot.

The pair lead you a short distance downriver, still in view of the waterfall, to a small camp. A pair of horses graze nearby, tied off to a tree. A small fire has been set, with the embers still glowing. The warrior quickly stokes and adds to the fire, always keeping one eye on you. Her constant glares give you a strong message: You are not to be trusted. The women sit by the fire, and the blonde gestures for you to join them. You drop down next to the young woman, exhaustion overwhelming your apprehension. The blonde girl sits up proudly, excitedly, pointing at her chest.

"Mia." She announces happily. She points to the warrior woman. "Tarra." The girl smiles at you. Understanding her meaning, you point to yourself and say your name. She repeats it a few times, smiling. Trying to make sure you understand, you point to each of them in turn, repeating their names.

"Mia, and Tarra, right?" Mia nods enthusiastically.

The three of you sit in silence, and you're unsure what comes next. Mia stares at you openly, a bright smile on her face. She makes you slightly uncomfortable with her unwavering, joyful gaze. You smile back a couple of times, and she waves at you. After a short while of this, you force yourself to stop looking in her direction. The amount of eye contact is making you uncomfortable.

Tarra also stares at you, but less happily. The warrior clearly doesn't trust you, in contrast to the younger woman's lack of inhibition. Tarra leans against a large pile of saddlebags, arms crossed, face sour. She glares at you so harshly you start to wonder if she ever blinks.

After about five minutes of the world's most uncomfortable double staring contest, you decide to look through Uncle Dave's journal for help. Still clutching the old leatherbound book, you leaf through the pages, clicking your flashlight on so you can read. You notice Mia inching closer to you. She scoots closer and closer until the side of your body is touching hers. Under normal circumstances, you'd be excited to have a beautiful young woman sharing this much body heat with you, but the circumstances make it less enjoyable. She leans over your shoulder, staring curiously.

"It's my uncle's journal. He's visited here before," you try to explain, but you're surprised to find she's not interested in the journal, instead her gaze is fixed on your flashlight.

"Oh. I guess you guys are still medieval or something." You click the button on the back of the light, demonstrating its function. She gasps, speaking in her language to Tarra, who says nothing. You offer the flashlight to her unthinkingly. She snatches the tool and you briefly regret your offer, hoping she doesn't try to keep it.

Mia plays with the flashlight a bit, clicking it on and off curiously. She shines the light on Tarra, who protests, covering her eyes. Next, Mia shines it in her own eyes, squeaking with discomfort as she blinds herself. You chuckle a bit as she drops the light, throwing her hands over her face. She picks the light up, clicking it off and looking at the deactivated bulb. You watch in humorous disbelief as she blinds herself a second time by clicking it on.

"It's still going to blind you," You say with a laugh. "Don't turn it on again."

After a couple of minutes of experimentation, Mia returns the light to you.

"Thanks." You accept the light, turning it back to your journal.

The young girl still watches eagerly as you flip through journal pages. Most of the book is almost meaningless babble. Your uncle spends several pages describing the birds he found in this world. Finally, you come to the page you'd most hoped for: a dictionary. Although it is just a small one; it covers only two pages of the journal. The pages are labeled. English to 'Volvish' as your uncle calls it.

The english word is given, and across from that is the equivalent in Volvish. Below each word is a strange script, one you've never seen before. You realize the script must be the same words, but written in Volvish. This means you can read their language phonetically, and a Volvish speaker could read English phonetically as well.

You wave Mia in closer and point to the two page dictionary. It is unfortunately extremely short for a dictionary, leaving you with only a few key words in common, but it's a starting point. Mia reads over your shoulder as you try to put together a question. You do your best to ask "Where are we?" In their language, but the lack of grammar provided in the journal means it is more likely you've asked, "[Us, what location]?"

With a look of shock and joy, Mia laughs, then studies the journal herself. She collects herself, and in a very thick accent, she replies:

"We are, loo-kah-shun Volvsvaer!" In English. Her never-fading smile broadens, and she bounces slightly, thrilled at her accomplishment.

Though the language barrier is difficult, the journal includes the most key and essential phrases. You're reminded of highschool Spanish lessons, how the most essential things to learn were things like 'where is my luggage' and 'I need a hospital'. Your Uncle Dave has arranged the dictionary similarly, with important words and a few short phrases.

You are not able to determine much more than their names, location, and moods (happy for Mia and no answer from Tarra), but you're satisfied with the progress.

Night draws on, and the two of you yawn more and more frequently. Eventually, Mia offers some words in her language, perhaps excusing herself. She makes her way to the pile of saddlebags Tarra is leaning on. The two of them exchange a few words and Mia extracts a bedroll from the pile, laying it out near the fire. As you watch her, you realize you have nothing to sleep in except your pajama pants and uni hoodie. Fortunately, Tarra has you covered, offering another bedroll from the pile. You lay out the coarse blankets under Tarra's relentless watch. She seems to have no intention of sleeping while you're around. The bedroll she's given you is likely hers. Grateful and a bit embarrassed, you try to fall asleep. It's nearly impossible, as you have so much going through your head.

Laying on your back, you're able to see up through the trees. You watch the stars for a little while. The unfamiliarity of the alien sky emotionally drives home that you're not on Earth any more. An exhilarating feeling washes over you. You're terrified, but at the same time excited. Your mind plays and replays the possibilities of a new world.

You awaken a short time later, still exhausted. At first you think you're still in your uncle's cabin, surrounded by the woods of home. But you see the fire has burned low, and Tarra is sleeping soundly to one side.

It's real. Not a dream.

Tarra has finally dropped her unwavering gaze, falling asleep in the dew filled grass. Unable to fall back asleep, you stoke the fire and sit quietly, mind racing with thoughts. How will you get home? Why didn't the magical spell work in reverse? Your Uncle Dave came back home, obviously. Maybe it's in his journal?

Across the camp, Tarra shivers in her sleep. You remember that she gave you her bedroll, and decide you're not getting any more sleep tonight anyway. Collecting the blankets, you attempt to cover Tarra quietly. Crouching next to her, you gently place the blankets over her slumbering form.

The Warrior Woman snaps awake. In a motion as fast as lightning, the roused warrior clamps a steely hand on your wrist, twisting brutally and bringing you to the ground. With her other hand, she presses a blade against your back, her eyes filled with rage. A knee to the back of your neck pushes your face into the dirt painfully. Frantically, you try to motion with your eyes to the bedroll. After snarling something in your ear, she sees the bundle of blankets scattered on the ground beside you.

Tarra understands, and reluctantly releases you. You roll away, rubbing your wrists and spitting out dirt. The warrior woman watches you with mistrust as you sit back by the fire, complaining under your breath.

The sun rises within a few hours. Mia awakens to find you and Tarra staring at each other through the gray morning light. It's been that way since you startled Tarra. The warrior has left you on edge, and clearly you've had the same effect on her.

Mia calls Tarra, and seems to be scolding her. The young blonde retrieves food from her pack as she's speaking, offering you some dry bread and water. You accept, watching as your hosts strike up their second quarrel since you met them. You can't understand a word, but their body language speaks volumes. Tarra gestures to you several times in frustration, and Mia seems to be coming to your defense.

The two women pack up camp, talking continually. Though Tarra doesn't seem like a conversationalist, she does become passionate a few times. Whatever they're talking about while they pack, both of them are serious and emphatic. They finish by saddling and mounting their horses. You stand nearby, watching silently.

Where are they going? Where will you go?

Mia calls your name. She smiles, and offers a hand, inviting you to ride with her. Tarra cuts her off harshly, arguing. The warrior gestures to her own steed, seemingly insisting that you ride with her, but Mia doesn't agree.

You are conflicted. Do you go with them? Where else would you go? Maybe you should stay and try to open the door again? Why are they even taking you with them?

Mia calls your name again, snapping you from your thoughts. It appears she has won the argument, and she reaches out to you, still smiling. Tarra rolls her eyes, grunting in frustration.

Deciding you like the idea of an adventure, you take a step forward, and climb into the saddle.

The journey through the forest is slow and pleasant. As the horses walk casually through the woods, you take note of the plant life around you. It seems like a deciduous forest, with wide leaves and no needles. The leaf colors are solid green, suggesting it's spring or summer, roughly the same season as Earth.

It's a bit tight in the saddle with both of you, but luckily Mia is quite petite. She sits in front. More often than not, her back is pressed against you, and you start to think she's doing it on purpose, reclining against your chest.

Taking some time, you examine your companions a little more thoroughly. Mia is young, happy, and innocent. Her blonde hair is long, hanging to about the middle of her back. She keeps it tied back out of her face, but a few scraps slip out here and there, giving her the chronic tick of pushing a bang out of her eyes. She's physically quite small, perhaps five feet, and thin, with extremely pale white skin. She wears a comfortable looking shirt and breeches covered by a short skirt, reminding you of old photos depicting the 19th century.

Tarra is almost the opposite of Mia in every physical way. She is just a few years older than Mia, but seasoned beyond her age. Though not extremely large, the fierce looking woman is imposing and muscular. Her olive skin is strewn with scars. The once serious wounds now disappear under her clothing, covering most of her neck and chest. She wears simple breeches and a chainmail body, giving her the look of a warrior. She carries at least one dagger on her waist, and a spear strapped to her mount. With tan skin, impressive physicality, and a stern face, the warrior woman fiercely contrasts her meek, pale companion.

Deciding you need to work on your Volvish, you pull open your uncle's journal, having carried it by hand so far. You try to say a few things in Volvish. Mia is happy to help you as much as possible, and even tries her hand at English. For a time, you both take turns pointing at different objects, saying their names in Volvish and English. Things like 'Horse' 'Tree' 'Male' 'Female' are the first words you learn outside of the journal.

A pen would be nice.

Then you move on to trying some short phrases.

"Tha mi airson a bhith nad charaid dhut," (I want to be your friend) You try to say. It comes out something like "Tha mee air-sun, a bitch and chair-aid dutt." Mia laughs, and corrects your pronunciation. She replies:

"Ee won't tah bae yar freend."

You both try several other short phrases from the journal, and then Mia tries to teach you some new words. Before you know it, the morning has passed into the afternoon. They share food with you from their saddlebags, and you thank them in Volvish.

By late afternoon, you've passed several other people on the road. Each time, you take a close look, searching for anything that isn't human. You're not sure if there's other types of creatures here. Now you wish you had read your uncle's stupid books.

Just before dark, you spy a town through the gaps in the trees, just some small buildings surrounding a town square. Though there's no wall, houses on the outer part of the town roughly funnel traffic through the two gates of the little hamlet. By your estimate, the little town couldn't hold more than a couple of thousand people.

You're suddenly nervous. A town means interactions, and you hope it's not obvious how foreign you are. Perhaps you can pretend to simply be from another region, as opposed to another world. Maybe that kind of thing is normal here. Now very mindful of yourself, you realize you are still wearing flannel pajamas and sneakers.

You stick to Mia closely when Tarra drops the horses off at a stable. In the street, people ignore you - exactly what you'd hoped for. You watch the people pass beneath the tiled roofs of the town. Most houses are stucco or brick, some stone, with rectangular windows. The architecture reminds you of the renaissance. Perhaps Volvsvaer is more technologically advanced than you'd originally thought.

Your attention is called to Tarra, who is arguing with the owner of the stable, perhaps haggling over pricing. You listen closely, trying and failing to pick out any words you recognise. Mis startles you, coming up next to you and wrapping her hand around yours. Instinctively, you pull away, looking at her in surprise. She shyly backs up, embarrassed. The beautiful young woman says something you don't understand, looking at her feet.

Did you hurt her feelings? That's not what you meant to do. Maybe hand holding is a casual friendship thing here?

Feeling a bit bad about embarrassing her, you offer your hand to her. She accepts, smiling as she threads her fingers through yours. You're not sure what she means by it, but the human touch is comforting.

Tarra persuades (or intimidates) the stable owner down to a suitable price for storing the horses. Angrily tossing a handful of coins into the man's outstretched hand, she curses her way across the stable to where you and Mia stand. When she returns, she sees your hands clasped together and cringes. Her reaction is visceral, involuntary.

Is she mad at you for holding hands? Is she uncomfortable with Mia being so close to you?

Standing in front of you, Tarra looks you up and down.

"Aodach." She says, as if reminding herself. You stare dumbly. It's a word you haven't learned yet. Tarra walks into the street, and you follow without thinking, Mia's hand still on yours.

'Aodach' must have something to do with clothes, because Tarra leads you straight to a building, probably a general store. The squat little building stands on the town square, advertised by signage painted on the glass windows. You can't read any of it, but the open door and shelves of material are a universal sign for 'come on in and shop'.

Tarra is a precise shopper, finding exactly what she wants without wasting time. She buys a bit of food for the road and some clothing for you, a knee length tunic and a belt. You're grateful for the tunic, partially because you'll blend in more, and partially because the extra layer gives you somewhere to store the journal you've been carrying by hand.

When Tarra pays the shopkeeper, You strain to catch a glimpse of the currency as it changes hands, seeing a couple of bronze coins. The warrior woman says something to Mia as she hands the clothing to you, but you're only able to make out the words 'he' and 'him'. Perhaps Tarra is upset about spending money on you, which is kind of understandable. Pulling the tunic over your sweatshirt, you attempt to thank Tarra as best you can for the clothes in Volvish, even slipping in the word 'Aodach'. Perhaps you've impressed her, because the Warrior Woman smiles, just a bit, and says something you can't understand in response.

"Dè cho snog."

Tarra leads your little party to a tavern, or at least you think it's a tavern. With a low ceiling, the smell of alcohol, and a rowdy crowd of men and women, that's what you assume the small, candle lit building is. Tarra, always the leader of the small group, secures a table in the corner and some bowls of stew. The change of food quality is appreciated by everyone, and your traveling companions seem equally pleased to have a dish other than hard tack and canteen water.

You help yourself while the women talk. You're seated between them, calmly eating your stew (while wondering what kind of meat it is) when the conversation escalates.

These two women argue as much as they breathe.

As far as you can tell, Tarra isn't excited about you being there, and Mia wants to keep you around. Tarra's face is deeply lined with wrinkles from the stress of the conversation, and her frown seems permanent. Mia looks as if she might cry, and even reaches over to wrap her arms around you. The physical closeness of the younger woman has been constant since you met them in the cave. You study her face as she grips you, squeezing you hard. Mia's bright blue eyes appear frightened, maybe even terrified. As if holding on to you will somehow keep her safe.

You smile at her reassuringly.

"Bidh mi pòsda ris!" Mia exclaims, defiant. "Is esan an aon dòchas a th' againn." It sounds like she said "I will (something) him". The rest is beyond your knowledge. You watch both of them, trying to understand. Tarra sighs deeply. Her countenance suggests a burden that runs beyond what she can bear.