Finding Peace

by Daniel-Gleebits

We have Neighbours?

We have Neighbours?

Sonata had at best a rudimentary knowledge of dealing with injuries: Pressure, bandages, and lots of crying. Although in most circumstances she was rather sure that it was the patient that cried, and not the healer. Throughout the events that took place to get Sunset back to the house, plop her onto her bed, and awaken her enough for the invalid to slur out instructions, the only tears that fell came from Sonata’s streaming eyes. In between fevered sobs and trembling, Sonata managed to effectively bandage Sunset’s foot and get Sunset comfortable. The only problem was it seemed blood loss had not been the cause of Sunset’s collapse, but something more sinister.

“It comes with the rainy season,” Sunset breathed between ragged breaths. Shaking underneath her blanket, the bed was moist with her sweat as it continued to pour from her pale face. After accepting the water Sonata held up for her, Sunset continued. “I should have recognised this disease. I didn’t think such a small injury would...”

“You’ll be alright, though,” Sonata said in a voice of false cheer. “You’ve had it before, right?”

“No,” Sunset replied quietly. “It is... known among my people. I will not lie to you; it is a dire affliction. Many perish in agony and madness.”

Sonata’s insides, already feeling as heavy and precarious as a boulder at the edge of a high cliff, now plummeted, mercilessly crushing the innocent little village at the base of the metaphorical cliff that had been populated by Sonata’s hopes and comfortable self delusions.

“But you know how to deal with it, right?” Sonata asked desperately. “Y-You can’t die. You just can’t.”

“I do know a cure,” Sunset admitted. “However...”

“Sunset?” Sonata prompted tremulously when it seemed that Sunset had lost her train of thought.

“We lack the ingredients. The tyroot is an... an essential ingredient.”

Sonata’s heart sank, if possible, even lower, and fresh tears sprang to her eyes. Guilt reached up from within her and sank deep, poisonous claws into her innards.

“I’m sorry,” Sonata whined. “It’s my fault you don’t have any more. It was my necklace that—“

“Listen to me, Sonata,” Sunset rasped urgently, cutting through Sonata’s sobs. “At best, I have a few days. If I am to survive, I must be able to make the medicine before my mind is too far gone.”

“What do I need to do?” Sonata asked immediately. “Is there anywhere I can get medicine?”

“I would not trust to it,” Sunset said in a subdued tone, almost as though to herself. “I did not encounter tyroot here naturally. I transplanted it here from another place.”

Sonata’s hopes lifted. “Where? Is it far?”

“It is a half a day’s journey. You’ll need water, and food.”

“This is all my fault,” Sonata moaned.

“Sonata!” Sunset snapped, exerting herself enough to partially sit up. “Whose fault it is, is not the issue. Please,” she lay back down, the struggle sapping her of what little physical strength she had. “If you don’t retrieve the herb, I will die. The illness is too far along. If you were not here, I would certainly perish; you’re the only hope I have now.”

Sonata sat for a moment, feeling a curiously light sensation, as though gravity no longer affected her. It lasted only a moment, but it gave her a sudden urge to laugh.

“That’s heavy,” she said, unable to stop herself snickering. “That’s far too heavy.”

Sunset regarded her for a moment or two, not without concern. She gave Sonata a look that might have meant anything, but what actually ran through her brain was the possibility that Sonata was ill too.

---

The laughing fit did not afflict Sonata for long.

Back home—

What used to be home, Sonata thought bitterly.

Where Sonata once lived, she was known amongst the village’s youth for her whimsical caprice, and her curious enthusiasms. Rarely did a day go by that didn’t bear further proof of her restless mind, her boundless desire to test and discover anything, no matter how bizarre, seemingly insignificant, or indeed dangerous. If anyone had espoused the opinion that Sonata was capable of, much less being, committed to a serious task, that person would have been ejected from the village for fear of being mad. An affliction regarded with superstitious fear of the paranormal.

If any of her tribe had seen her as she trudged across the sandy rock plain as she did on the day she left the Twin-rock... well, they might have looked at one another in fearful despair that perhaps the entire village had succumbed to the spectre of insanity.

Rarely before however had Sonata’s resolve been tested – truly tested – as it was now. She would climb mountains in pursuit of this herb. Cross surging rivers, clash with vicious predators, battle through hordes of ravenous anthropophagi if it meant that she could save Sunset’s life. Sunset couldn’t die, not now. Not when it was her, Sonata’s, fault. Preferably not ever, but especially not if it was because of what she had done. Because of her necklace...

As fate would have it, however, Sonata was not obliged to do any of these things.

Sunset had given Sonata simple directions to the spot, told her in what areas the plant was most likely to grow, and given her a drawing of what the plant looked like; a simple but sufficiently detailed colour sketch of the herb. The path she trod crossed no mountains, which lay to the west and north, where as her path took her north east. She did not have to cross any raging torrents, as the river was calm, and she was only obliged to follow it, rather than traverse it. She met no dangerous predators, since the rainy season’s inundations had not yet produced the explosive flowering of plant-life that would attract their prey back from far away pastures.

As for the cannibalistic tribes she had envisioned, she had forgotten that Sunset had once told her that the nearest settlement of any kind was several day’s distance away. Despite this, it gave her a thrill of courage to think of herself evading bands of mask-wearing bruisers smothered in the gore of their last unfortunate victim, on the prowl for a seemingly harmless blue-skinned morsel like herself to pounce on like a pack of hyenas.

Indeed, the only thing of note that Sonata might have seen along the way was a large stone. Given that there were large stones dotting the entire landscape, it was perhaps not surprising that Sonata did not notice this particular one, especially in her relatively focused state of mind. If she had been her usual curious self, however, she might have noticed the curvature of the rock, giving it the peculiar appearance of a frozen wave rising from an otherwise calm ocean of sandy stone. As a result, she also didn’t see the colourful images daubed upon the interior, flashing out unspoken warnings for any willing to see.

The river’s edge eventually reached a point where the water lowered into a spray of small rapids, heralding a decline in the land, and forming a craggy steppe where tall trees and bushes clustered. Sonata found that she was somewhat surprised to discover the land changing. Having seen the same landscape for so many months, she had half-forgotten that the land could change as radically as this.

The river began again at the base of the steppes from a large pool that the rapids fed into and where fish played like silvery paper kites. As the river carried on, its banks were wider than before, but its depth shallower and its course calmer. Perhaps because of this, the ground around seemed more fertile. Grasses spread out wider from the riverbanks, and more splendorous plants stood green and colourful all around, and in the water.

Sonata paused here, fatigued by the journey, and just realising how hungry she was. She looked up at the sky to find the sun hovering in the west, a great deal lower than it was when she set out. Seating herself, she pulled out some of the dried fruit and bread she’d brought with her, surprised to see how little of each there was.

“Oh, right,” she muttered to herself, remembering her snacking habit along the way. Looking into the bag she’d brought with her, she began to wonder if she had enough for the journey back.

“I can go a day without food,” she told herself uncertainly. Likely she could, but the idea was unappealing. Especially if she needed to get back quickly for Sunset. “Water shouldn’t be a problem though,” she said aloud, dipping her toes into the river.

“What I need to be doing is looking for the tyre... tee-roo... plant-thing.”

With this goal reasserted, she unfurled the sketch of the plant, and examined it closely. As with many herbs, it was relatively small, and had delicate little flowers. Purple ones, if the sketch was accurate. Sonata peered around for such a plant, but had to admit that she could see no such thing.

She thought back to what Sunset had told her about their location, and remembered that she had described gathering them next to a ‘forest’. Unfortunately, Sonata’s people had no word for such a thing, as they lived on the coast, and were surrounded by mountains and a lake that supported only scanty numbers of trees.

“A place where trees grow thickly,” Sonata repeated, frowning in thought. “Shouldn’t it be called a thicky then? Or maybe a thicket.”

Things to dwell on later, she decided.

She knew that she had to follow the river to find this ‘forest’ thing. She looked around, but had to admit she could see no great growth of trees. Apart from the distant greenish hills, the only thing that stood out in view was a strange, dark mass further along the river, some distance away. Sonata regarded this darkness with profound mistrust. It had an irregular top that was a bright, friendly green in the dying sunlight, but a dark and sinister looking lower part that looked as though it were trying to hide malevolent intentions underneath a cheerful demeanour. As she watched, the top rippled and flickered like fish scales, flashing a multitude of greens.

When she had travelled close enough to see that it wasn’t a single amalgamated entity, but instead a great host of trees as Sunset had described, her mistrust did not quite abate even as her excitement grew. The ‘forest’ was noisy with a multitude of small sounds that coalesced into a somewhat disturbing singular din. To Sonata, who was used to the relative silence of the open plains, the sound was greatly disquieting. It seemed to her that eyes watched her from the trees’ fathomless depths, and she was alone before its cold and unconcerned gaze.

Pursing her lips, Sonata looked across the river. Tall reeds obscured the actual margins of the riverbed, most taller than Sonata herself, but they weren’t tall enough to fully hide the continuation of the forest on the other side. She wondered briefly if the trees on both sides counted as one forest, or if it was technically two forests.

“I really don’t want to go in there,” she mumbled, wiping the sweat from her forehead. She took a drink from her water pouch, and realised that it was essentially empty. Shrugging, she walked towards the riverbank, and stepped carefully amongst the reeds. Having lived by a lake most of her life, she knew to tread carefully for fear of slipping or abruptly meeting the water’s edge.

“Maybe I can go around the forest through the water,” Sonata said absently. She wasn’t entirely sold on the idea; looking between the two dark masses rendered black in the growing twilight, she felt that the inviting river was a lure to get her to walk blithely into the forest’s open maw. She was so intent on watching the trees – a most impossible feat, given that they were on both sides of her – that she didn’t at first notice the small, purple flowers in and amongst the reed beds until she put a foot forward to step on one.

“Ow!” Sonata squealed, leaping back. She stared around in the water, her heart racing, looking for the source of whatever had just bitten her. Snakes, spiders, or a hundred other things could be in this river. She’d heard stories of man-eating fish before living in the ocean; could they exist in rivers too? Now that she thought about it, maybe going through the river wasn’t such a good idea.

After a few moments, she found that she could see no sign of any creature, and so looked down at her leg. She was surprised to find that as opposed to bite marks, all there was to see was a red line, the sort of thing one might get if struck by a springy twig or whip.

She calmed here, figuring that she must have knocked a reed that had swung out and whipped her leg. She raised her foot to step forward again.

“Ouch!” she cried, stepping hastily back again. “What is doing that?”

“Your question,” someone said, “is ill-directed. If you wish the truth, allow me to correct it.”

Sonata froze in terror, her eyes flicking too-and-fro for the source of the mysterious voice. To her utter bewilderment, she was incapable of seeing anyone nearby. But the voice had been close, almost in her ear. She shivered as she wondered whether she was being spoken to by some kind of spirit or river guardian. Maybe even a nature god.

“Please do not step upon the flowers,” the voice said calmly, as though from all around. “From them, one might derive many useful healing powers.”

It must be a god, Sonata thought quickly. Who else speaks in rhymes?

Wishing not to offend the river, Sonata lowered herself to her hands and knees, trying to keep her head respectfully bowed without letting her face sink below the water line. When the voice said nothing, and the waters did not seem inclined to act, she broke the silence.

“Healing powers?” she repeated meekly.

Apparently in response, from beyond the reeds rose a long, thin item. It was hard for Sonata to identify it in the encroaching twilight darkness, but whatever it was, it lowered to the water’s surface. At the end of it was a thin-looking bag that was emitting an eerie, greenish light, which cast a shimmering glow upon the water’s surface. Sonata’s eyes instinctively followed the light downwards, and noticed that the light was hovering over a number of small flowers rising from the shallow water.

Sonata stared in wonder, remembering Sunset’s description of where to find—

“The tie—Teeroo... um...”

“If tyroot is the aim of your quest, then you may put your apprehension to rest. The flowers you see grow all around, but only in this place can they naturally be found.”

“Oh,” Sonata said, rather foolishly. “Um, river goddess... err, would it be okay if I had some of them?”

“Some of them? Why would you seek more than one plant? To create a steady crop, merely one is sufficient.”

“My friend is very sick, and she needs to make a cure. She used to have some of these flowers in her garden, but—“ Sonata halted as her guilt rose to choke off her words.

The voice paused as though considering this. “Your friend who is ill, can you describe her? Is she likely to be someone with whom I might confer?”

“Oh, well,” Sonata began, frowning. “Well, she has gold-coloured skin. Red and yellow hair. She has these tattoos on her—“

“Forgive my interrupting your explanation,” the voice said, sounding intrigued. “But I recognise this description. Did I hear correctly when you said that you were this person’s companion?”

“I live with her,” Sonata said, scratching her head a little. “If that’s what you mean.”

The voice did not say anything for a little while. Sonata rather wondered if perhaps the river god disapproved, and it was coming up with a way to punish her. Just to be sure, she bowed her head lower.

“How long has your friend had this affliction? When did the symptoms first come to your attention?”

“Oh, err, today. This morning. She said—“ Sonata gulped. “She said that she only had a few days to... to live. She said that it would drive her mad.”

After yet another pause, Sonata lowered her head almost to the water. “Please, may I take some of your flowers? I can’t let her die. She’s done so much for me, and I can’t let her suffer because of what I’ve done.”

The voice made a considering sort of hum, but not the way one would if they were deciding something. It sounded more as though it had just figured something out.

“You may take a single flower back with you, flower, leaf, and stem. From that your friend should be able to breed a crop of them. Rest here for tonight, and return at first light.”

“B-But—“

“Fear not, girl, for you will be in time to save her from this blight. But you are tired, and the night journey is a dangerous one. It would be unwise to risk your life and hers on an impulsive decision.”

Sonata supposed that the voice was right. Even so, the thought of Sunset on her own and sick, maybe even in pain...

“But where should I sleep? I cannot live in the river.”

The voice explained that there was a dwelling where she might sleep just within the tree line, and that in the morning, she would be supplied with food, water, and the herbs she would need for the return journey. After thanking the voice humbly, Sonata moved carefully out of the river, and towards the dark trees, where even from there she was able to make out the dim outline of some kind of structure just within. She still felt apprehensive about the wall of sinister-looking plants, and at first trod towards it as though on her way to an execution. She kept imagining all sorts of horrors would erupt from behind a trunk and seize her.

“Why do you linger here?” the voice asked inquiringly. “Is there something there that you fear?”

Sonata looked quickly to her left, in the direction of the voice, and her blood turned to ice. The long stick, or staff, or poll on which the ghost-light hung was upright, and bathing the reeds in an ethereal glow. By this light, Sunset could see a half-visible shape sitting upon a rock. It was impossible to tell whether the shape were person, animal, or something in between, but what was clearly visible, was a pair of sharp blue eyes staring straight at Sonata from in between the reeds.

Shrieking with fright, Sonata practically flew into the forest, made straight for the hut within, and threw herself through the door.

The eyes watched all of this with calm unconcern, and after contemplating the slammed door for a moment or two, closed, returning their owner to tranquil contemplation of the night falling around her.

Comments

[punzil504]

Was torn between Zecora or maybe Starlight Glimmer (because of the staff) until the blue eyes... Starlight's are listed as "moderate persian blue," (although I'd call them indigo) but Zecora's are more piercing.

[Wandering Eye]

i like where this is going. initially i wasn't certain, but i definitely want to know more about where this is heading.

[Rhulain]

I like this. I hope you revive it someday.