The Tales of Tamil - Uh, Talimor

After a brief discussion with the stable owner, some gold changes hands, and the women's horses are hitched to a large covered carriage. You're grateful to Tarra again for how much she's taken care of you. Your thighs are red and raw from the extended trip yesterday, and you were worried you might start bleeding if forced to sit in the saddle again today.

Your party leaves the town in the quiet of the morning, before the population awakens fully. Doing your best to keep your orientation, you notice that your party has left the town on the opposite side that you entered it, taking you further away from the waterfall, the cave, and your home.

Tarra is insistent that Mia ride inside the carriage. As they had every day, they have a brief argument. Mia relents, climbing into the back of the small, fabric covered carriage. It's not a very large carriage, with maybe enough room for two people to lay down. Tarra walks alongside the wagon, directing the horses by the bridle as they pull the little wagon. It's not clear if your companions want you inside the carriage, or even if they care where you travel. You're curious to speak with Tarra, so you elect to walk outside with her.

The road leading out of the town is rough and dirty, and the wagon kicks up a considerable amount of dirt. You're traveling through a forest again, and like yesterday, there's some traffic on the road. Tarra greets most passersby, nodding. You try to make mental notes about what kind of greetings she gives.

Although a bit awkward due to your chafe, you pull your journal from the folds of your tunic and try to start a conversation with the warrior. Leafing through the book, you call her attention.

"[Question. Mia is your friend?]" You ask.

"[Yes.]" She replies, monotone. She seems to think for a minute before adding "[Yes and no.]"

"[Your girl, then?]" You don't know the words for daughter or sister. You hope your meaning makes it through the language barrier.

"[No, not mine. My (Something).]" You study the book, then repeat the word. Tarra repeats the word back to you patiently and slowly. You feel as though you've hit a wall, having no way for Tarra to describe the word to you. What other relationship could they have?

"[She pays you?]" You ask.

"[Yes. She is my (something). She pays me.]" Tarra confirms. You make a mental note, the word Tarra's been using is likely 'employer' or 'boss' or such. You wish desperately for a pen.

The conversation is slow, but exciting. Tarra doesn't seem to be annoyed, though she does urge you to be silent when someone passes by on the road. Through conversation with her, you learn some basic, useful things. Your destination is a big city, where Mia is from. Mia does not directly employ Tarra, rather someone has employed Tarra to watch over Mia. You're also able to work out quite a few more rudimentary verbs and nouns, as well as some basic sentence structure.

You and your companions stop for lunch, pulling to the side of the road and eating together in the back. The small carriage is cramped paired with all of the gear. Once again, you're grateful to Tarra and Mia as they share their meal with you. Tarra finishes her meal quickly, climbing out of the carriage. When you try to follow, Mia grabs your arm, her big blue eyes looking at you hopefully. Even without speaking, you understand that she wants you to stay. Your heart jumps at the thought.

Calm down. You've got no reason to be excited about being close to her. You're climbing into a tight spot with the beautiful woman you just slept with. That's all. Why be excited?

The back of the wagon is loaded with the saddle packs, as well as Tarra' spear. Other than that, the inside is empty. You settle in, sitting down and leaning against a pack. Mia doesn't waste any time, climbing uninvited on top of you. She tries to lay her head on your chest, draping the rest of her lovely, warm body across yours.

"Uh, hold on," you say. Mentally, you switch to Volvish. "[I want to talk.]" You say. The young blonde awkwardly clambers off of you, sitting on her legs and listening attentively.

"[Yes,]" She says. Knowing there's a language barrier, you rack your mind about how to communicate. You decide you'll need to learn a few things first. Searching around on the floor of the wagon, you scrape together some sticks and loose rocks. You clear a small space between yourself and Mia, laying out the rocks down. Doing your best to shape them like a family tree, you point to the topmost rocks.

"[Man and woman,]" You say. Then, pointing to the bottom rocks, all connected by sticks, "[Boy, girl.]" Mia watches silently, and you try to prompt her for input by pointing between the parents and children. Something clicks in her head, and she understands. Slowly, she lays out for you all the familial words, father, mother, son, daughter. Lastly, you point between the man and woman rocks, struggling to ask the right question. Mia, still following as best she can, gives you the word for 'married' or 'marriage' either one, you're not sure. But the adjective and noun forms are irrelevant with speech this basic.

"[Are we,]" You point between yourself and Mia "[Marriage? At town.]" You point backwards out of the wagon, and your stern face betrays your anger. Mia hesitates to answer, cringing regretfully.

"[...Yes.]" She eventually says. The pretty young girl hangs her head. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she folds her arm over them. "[You were... not knowing."] She says.

"Yeah, no shit I didn't know!" You exclaim in english, and she jumps, falling back away from you. Tarra peaks into the front of the wagon. Seeing Mia on her back, the warrior calls out.

"An do ghortaich am balach thu?" You understand the word 'boy'.

"Cha do rinn e. Fàg e." Replies Mia. Tarra retreats, leaving the two of you alone. You sigh deeply, rubbing your face in frustration.

Really, there's nothing binding about this marriage. You didn't even know it was happening. Maybe now is a good time to leave.

Mia sits up, watching you quietly. You find it difficult to speak. Frustrated, confused, and angry, you crawl to the back of the wagon.

"[I need a time.]" You sit down, legs hanging out the back, and ride silently.

Tarra directs the horses off the main road in anticipation of the sunset. She stops the horses in a small clearing, some distance in the woods. As the three of you unload, stretching, Tarra collects a few stray sticks, waving them in front of you.

"[I need this.]" She speaks as simply as she can, and you understand her meaning. You set out to collect firewood.

When you return, the women have unhitched the horses, and are having some sort of hushed conversation by the wagon. You cough, trying to make yourself known. As you lay your collected wood at the center of the clearing, Tarra walks away from her conversation with Mia, shaking her head in frustration. You do your best to mind your own business.

Tarra strikes a fire quickly and easily with a steel piece and a flint, skillfully blowing and nursing the fire into a healthy flame. Once she grows the fire to a suitable size, she begins the process of warming some food for the three of you, skewering strips of salted meat. You share a meal in mostly silence, which is very odd for Mia. The young woman seems to be lost in deep thought. Tarra won't stop glaring at you, which is normal for her.

You pass the waterskin back to Mia, and Tarra breaks the silence, looking at you, but talking to Mia.

"Tha am Mesiah làidir. Faodaidh sinn feuchainn." She says, her unblinking gaze chilling you a bit. "Gaisgeach treun. Chì sinn." the warrior says, and then stands, gesturing to you. "Thig air adhart, a bhalach." She beckons you towards her. You look at Tarra, confused, trying to understand what she wants.

"Tarra, na dèan!" Protests Mia, concerned. Tarra ignores her, bringing her hands up like a boxer. The older woman, clearly a skilled fighter, takes a practiced stance, feet shoulder width apart, bouncing from foot to foot. Your eyes widen, and you look between the women in shock.

"[No,]" You protest, switching between Volvish and English. "I'm not going to fight you. [No. No.]" Tarra sees your hesitation, and rolls her eyes.

"Friend," She says, "[Friendly (something)]. Friend." The Warrior Woman beckons you towards her again. You look at Mia, who has covered her face in embarrassment. Tarra is insistent, and seems to mean well, so you stand opposite of her. She still has her hands up like a boxer, and you reassure yourself one more time.

"[Friendly?]" You ask, holding your hands out to your side.

"[Friendly! Friendly!]" Tarra reassures you with a brief smile. Hesitantly, you raise your hands. Boxing isn't your strong suit, but you're curious to see what Tarra is trying to do.

She moves in quickly, faking a few jabs. They're slow, and you block them with your arms. Tarra is clearly pulling her punches. She smiles at you, repeating herself.

"[Friendly.]" You shrug at the strangeness of an impromptu sparring match. You've done stranger things with these women.

You throw a slow punch in her direction, and she blocks it lazily.

"Le luaths!" she calls, urging you on. "Le luaths!" You catch her meaning, and punch toward her, slightly harder. She blocks it easily, goading you on even more.

"Buail!" She shouts. You swing again, still thinking it's a joke. This time you make contact with her stomach, surprising you. You expected her to block. She looks at you, disappointed.

"Buail mise." She says, her tone bored. You throw a harder punch, encouraged by her. The Warrior Woman easily catches your punch, ducking to the side and kicking your legs out from under you. She is lightning fast, knocking you to the ground and kneeling on your neck. Again.

"Ow, ow, oowwww." You protest, and she releases you promptly. Muttering something as she walks away.

"Chan e sin am Mesiah." You dust yourself off, standing to your feet.

"Uh, good fight, Tarra." You try to make a joke, smiling at her, but she glares at you, a frown frozen on her face. The warrior walks away, grumbling, toward the wagon.

You sit down next to Mia, confused. As you start to say something, Tarra swings a closed fist at the back of the wagon, cracking the wood with her fist. She screams, a feral, frustrated shout, and disappears into the woods. Shocked, you turn to Mia.

"[Question, Tarra?]" You ask, shocked by her outburst. Mia shrugs, still looking sad. Unsatisfied, you press her for more of an answer, struggling to find the words.

"[Tarra, unhappy, how?]" You ask, and Mia shrugs again. Her countenance is downcast, she seems to share at least part of Tarra's frustration. Incredulous, you struggle with what to say.

Maybe it's best if you go now. You don't feel wanted. You're confused. You don't understand what they want from you, why they kept you with them, drug you around... married you. If it wasn't getting dark, you'd leave already. Why are they so upset with you?

Mia lays her head on your shoulder, snuggling up close to you. You almost resist, but her warmth and weight are comforting.

"Tha mi duilich." She speaks softly. A warmth touches your shoulder, and look down to see her tears soaking through your shirt.

"Ah be yar freend?" She asks.

"Seadh." You reply. But you've already made up your mind.

Tarra returns a short time later, dropping down next to the fire. She doesn't acknowledge either of you. The stone-faced warrior stares into the flames, her arms resting on her knees.

Eventually, Mia leaves to sleep in the wagon. It seems Tarra at least trusts you now, because once the fire starts to die down, she rolls out her own bed, perhaps assuming you'll join Mia in the wagon. You don't.

You sit by the dying light of the fire for maybe an hour more. The night is thick, and you hear the gentle breathing of Tarra, telling you the woman is asleep. After today's strange events, it's time to go. Double checking that you have everything you own, your uncle's journal, and your flashlight, you stand slowly, trying not to make any noise.

"[Traveling?]" Tarra opens one eye, startling you.

"[Yes. Goodbye.]" You answer, hopeful she won't try to stop you. She's silent for a few seconds.

"[She will be sad. (Something) good for you to go.]" She's still angry, still disappointed in you. But that's not your problem anymore.

"[Tell her goodbye.] You reply. In the darkness, Tarra nods. She doesn't look at you. The warrior rolls over, facing away.

Walking silently in the darkness, you move out of the campsite and into the dark woods. Once you're sufficiently distanced from the women, you click on your flashlight, letting the beam guide your path.

Time to head for the main road. Hopefully, you can make it back to the town tomorrow. With what you've learned of Volvish, you should be able to trade your flashlight for some supplies and make your way back to the waterfall. Once there, you'll figure out how to open the gate home.

The crackling and snapping of fallen twigs hits your ears. You click off the flashlight, stopping to listen. You mentally picture bears, wolves, or some worse kind of mythical forest creature stalking you. You wait with anticipation as the crackling of sticks and swiping of underbrush grows closer, passing very near to you. So close, you're able to hear several voices speaking in whispered Volvish as they pass by.

"[She's here. Horses (something).]" One voice says.

The people pass you by slowly. You catch sight of the movement of several of them, crouched, attempting silence. Once they've moved past you, you remain locked in place, paralyzed by indecision. Blood is pounding in your ears, and your hands shake a bit with adrenaline.

It's probably fine. They're probably not talking about Mia and Tarra. Even if they are, they might be friends. Even if they're not friends, it's not really your problem.

Then why aren't you leaving? You're stock still, unmoving in the woods. You're lucky they didn't notice you. You could be gone by now. You picture Mia's face. Her beautiful, sharp features, her pure, happy smile.

She'll miss you.

Slowly you turn back towards the women, creeping after the faceless forms.

You travel slowly at first, terrified that you may be heard. They're not that far ahead of you, at least you think they're not, so you stay low and walk slowly. Once you see the wagon, you pick up speed.

It's difficult to see in the limited light of night, but you hear shouts and ringing metal on metal. Breaking into a run, you stumble over a plant that grabs at your shoe laces. Distinctly, Tarra's voice pierces the night.

"Ruith, tha mi ceart gu leòr!" She calls. You hesitate again. The people out there probably have weapons. They could be trained. You could get stabbed. Your feet freeze to the ground, cowardice holding you.

Somewhere in the woods to your left, Mia screams.

Everything slows down around you, and you feel the beating of your heart. You feel the strength in your limbs growing, expanding outward. Your fear disappears in an instant. You feel strong. You feel powerful.

Something snaps inside you, and your legs uncoil instinctively. The darkness of the woods sharpens, defining and becoming clearer. Your adrenaline spikes. Sprinting through the woods at top speed, you search for her.

Where is she? WHERE IS SHE?

You spot her, partway up a tree, scrabbling up the bark. Below her stands a man, a sharp dagger in his hand. He reaches for her, snatching at the leg of her pants. You don't have time to think. You close the gap and take the man unaware, snatching him up in a bearhug. You pivot at the hips and toss, suplexing him. Your speed surprises him, and he doesn't even have time to scream before you catapult him headlong into the tree. A sickening crunch follows his collision, and he slumps against the trunk, impossibly bent. You can't tell who's more shocked, Mia or you. In the distance, Tarra shouts in pain.

"Stay here!" You yell at Mia in English. As quickly as you can, you collect the dead man's blade, sprinting at top speed back to the clearing with the wagon.

Your footsteps pound, and your mind races. Did you just kill that guy? How did you kill that guy? How did you even pick him up?

Tarra is on the ground, you can see her clearly now. A woman stands above her with a spear held aloft, ready to drive into your companion's body. With a shout, you fling the dagger at Tarra's attacker. The hilt of the weapons slams into the attacker's head with an audible thunk, knocking her cold. With all your speed, you reach your target before her spear falls from her hand. Whipping the weapon about, you face the other enemies gathered around you. The two remaining enemies hesitate, shocked.

The split second is all you need. Planting your back foot, you lunge forward with the spear in one hand, and drive it through the center of the nearest enemy, impaling him through and through. You twist, yanking the spear free from his torso in one swift motion. A third enemy hasn't had time to react, and you smash him in the center of his face with the butt of the spear, watching him crumple.

It's over in seconds. Your hands are trembling, your heart is pounding, and your brain is racing.

How did you do that? How did any of that happen? The enemy seemed to be moving in slow motion. They seemed to be made of cardboard, and you folded them. It was easy. It was scary how easy it was. It was sickening. Literally.

You fall to your knees, emptying your stomach.

Nearby, Tarra calls your name. With shaking arms and unsteady legs, you crawl to where she now sits on the ground.

"Mesiah." Her eyes are wide, and her face of shock slowly fades into a smile. "Mesiah!" She calls out. Tarra's face shifts to worry in a heartbeat. "Càit a bheil Mia?" She asks. At the edge of the clearing, a short scream from Mia is enough to get your adrenaline pumping again, before you see her. She's looking at you, hands covering her mouth. Tears pour from her eyes. She's smiling. In fact, she's laughing and squealing with excitement.

"Mesiah! Dh'innis mi dhut, Tarra! Mesiah!"

Tarra helps you to your feet, just in time for Mia to wrap you with a forceful hug. She's speaking Volvish so quickly you can only catch a bit of it. Her smiling face fills your vision, and you can't help but smile too, so infectious is her happiness. Mia kisses you passionately on the mouth, squeezing you tighter.

"I just, uh, just puked if that tastes a little funny." You don't know how to tell her that in Volvish.

"Mia." Tarra interrupts. "Dh' fhaodadh barrachd a bhith ann. Feumaidh sinn falbh."

Mia pulls away from you, nodding in agreement with Tarra. The two women begin to gather up their supplies, tossing gear into the back of the carriage. You look down at the bodies of the people you killed. They look shockingly normal, wearing the clothes you've seen on most people.

How did you do that? You've never fought in your life, but you tore these people apart like a tornado. And It felt so right, so good, like you were especially strong and fast - stronger and faster than you've ever been before.

Mia eventually comes to collect you, stepping over a body to grab your hand with hers.

"Are yah oo-kay?" She says in English, her accent as endearing as ever. Numbly, you nod, and allow yourself to be led to the carriage. You ride in the back with Mia, and tarra leads the horses back to the main road.

The carriage bumps and shakes down the road. Through the rear flap of the wagon's covering, you can see the first pink rays of sunlight. You lay against a pile of gear, reclining and staring out into the darkness.

"I've never killed anyone before," You find your voice. Mia looks at you sympathetically. Slowly, she crawls to you from her spot near the front of the wagon. Sitting down next to you, she rubs your arm gently.