Outside Influences

Another day, another slog through the desert.

Bel mentally prepared herself as she dragged her weary body out of her tent. She was greeted by the wan light of the sun peeking over the horizon.

Her mind wasn’t ready to face the day yet; instead, she slumped in front of her tent, idly counting the stars before they vanished from the sky. She was jolted from her morning ritual by and a shout of alarm. The call was repeated and rapidly spread through the camp. Bel turned towards the nearest shout, but before she took a step something light and prickly slammed into her.

Thin, scratchy limbs clawed at her body. Her skin, strengthened by her toughened integument, wasn’t easy to pierce, but a few pinpricks of pain bloomed where her attacker found purchase. Bel instinctively thrust her hand into the mass of woody tentacles and activated liquify, melting a large patch of her assailants limbs. With a surge of anger she forced her arms between her body and the attacker and threw it to the ground.

It was a plant. Some kind of withered weed with branches that moved and twitched like fingers had gotten the jump on her. Her mind was surprised, but her body didn’t hesitate to grab a cooking pot that someone had left over a nearby firepit. She proceeded to smash her assailant into bits, grinning with grim satisfaction.

“Bel!”

She looked up to see her brother jogging over. He’d made it a permanent habit to get up ahead of her, not even trying to wake her anymore. Instead he rushed directly to with Daran while Bel struggled to wake up on her own.

At least he came to check on me, I guess.

James waved with relief as he trotted over to her. “A bunch of tumble weeds rolled into the camp overnight. Daran said that they can suck your blood for moisture, so be careful.”

Bel gestured at crushed pile of plant matter next to her. “Thanks for the late warning.”

James blanched. “Sorry. Wait, is that the crocodile’s pot? She won’t like you using it for fighting.”

Bel grumbled as she rubbed off the twigs and roots sticking to the underside of the cooking pot before returning it to its previous resting place. Then she glared at James. “Happy now?”

He nodded. “C’mon, bring the plant this way. After a fight they gather up all the essence and see if anyone needs the abilities. Then they distribute the essence to the people who need it the most.”

“Wait, I don’t get anything for killing it? And how do they distribute the abilities?”

“It’s really cool,” James explained with fervor, “they all have ability lists for different creatures, and if someone has the same or a similar ability they can guide you when you try to extract it, like how Ventas helped me out with my abilities.” James grinned.

“Oh. That does sound like a good system,” Bel admitted.

Bel dragged the mangled plant to a growing pile of the things at the edge of the camp. Then Daran and a few other people pulled out some scrolls and started discussing something in their own language. James leaned closer to translate what he could.

“I think they have some abilities to drink water faster, blow better in the wind, and something about stabbing things with roots. Nothing that sounds very useful to me.”

Bel agreed, so she was surprised when the owl person hooted with excitement. Bel watched as he went about draining the smashed plants until he flapped his wings with pleasure.

Then the rest of the weeds were distributed to those with the earliest Paths. James couldn’t use them and Beth didn’t get any, but Bel got a single one. Daran let her know that she was a bit weak for her age.

The rest of the day was the boring desert slog that she expected, although seeing the owl person attempting to leap into every gust of wind and glide down the sides of the dunes provided a bit of amusement. He got pretty good at it by the end of the day.

The next day was exactly the same as the last, although there was some excitement when a trap door spider the size of a person tried to drag the crocodile woman into its hidden lair. If it had tried it on someone else, maybe even Bel, it may have even gotten away with it. The crocodile woman though, was too much of a challenge. Her tough hide was too thick for it to pierce and she was too large to be easily wrestled away before the rest of the group surrounded the spider and made quick work of it.

Bel made sure to keep closer to the center of the group after that.

Bel was getting really tired of getting sand in damn near everything. They had dug up and eaten some kind of enormous worm thing – how they knew where it was Bel had no idea – and then the crocodile had roasted it. The flavor of the worm meat was, surprisingly, okay, but the texture was awful. With every bite, sand scraped against her teeth. Bel suspected that the worm didn’t just wriggle through the sand, but was made of it too.

She was losing it. She wasn’t even sure how long had passed – perhaps a week? Two? She hadn’t been keeping track, and every day was the same. The view never changed. The sands were endless. Tumble weeds were a recurring threat that showed up every other morning now. Smashing them had become a boring morning routine for Bel at this point, the very slow progress of her core her only reward. The only thing that wasn’t constant was the slight variety in the desert monsters that they encountered and the swelling number of people in their group.

Two… maybe three? Some number of days prior they had merged with another group that was almost their size and had gained two more people who could cover them from the sun and the flying predators that everyone was so worried about. The only impact this had on Bel was that Daran spent even more time chatting with James, robbing Bel of her only conversation partner. It was so boring that Bel began to long for some chaos, just a bit of excitement to spice up the day. She began wishing that the much-feared spearheads would show up, just to have something new happen.

Bel’s boredom finally overpowered her shyness and she attempted conversations with anyone who had a mouth capable of forming words. Only a tiny fraction of them could speak Mycenaean, and none of them were interested in talking about anything other than finding a mate at the Great Swap. Even Samya, the old anteater, only asked her questions about the compatibility of herself and her siblings.

It would have driven her up a wall if there were any around.

Bel woke up with a simmering rage. Her teeth were clenched, her hands were balled into fists, and it felt like her snakes were sticking straight out from her head. She made a futile attempt to spit the sand from her mouth and avoided Beth and her brother as she packed up her things for the morning walk.

Beth had been spending every day learning the language, solely to make a more convincing argument for war. She’d been working with words to convince people that war with both the Dark Ravager and Technis were both necessary and inevitable. In that past that the assassin didn’t like to talk about, Beth had learned rhetoric and logic. She’d received the best education possible from Satrap’s most expensive tutors and had learned technique’s honed by Satrap’s aristocrats in their own battle of words. The trusting people of the Golden Plains weren’t prepared for such an assault – Bel could see more of them come under her sister’s sway by the day.

It didn’t help that the majority of people in their growing group were the young and unbound people travelling to the Great Swap in search of better futures. They were full of hopes and insecurities that Beth easily exploited. Bel couldn’t understand the words, but she could practically see Beth molding thoughts like clay in her hand.

James, of course, was fully invested in Daran and fully disinterested in worrying about their sister. He hardly noticed that Beth was doing her best to start a war with Satrap. Bel couldn’t seem to convince him that something was wrong with what was happening – instead, he was confused that she wasn’t helping to organize a group to ‘liberate the people of Satrap’ as he put it. It wasn’t what she’d expected from a brother who didn’t like killing and had nearly thrown up at the sight of a dead body back in Baytown’s temple, and she didn’t follow his arguments about Rome and “long-term thinking.”

She knew that what he was saying wasn’t right, but she hadn’t learned how to organize her thoughts like Beth had so she couldn’t find the words to argue her viewpoint.

Her words are like little silver bells, and mine are like farts in the mud.

Bel shoved her snakes away from her face in frustration. If only I had grown up with proper help. If only someone like Ventas had been around to raise me.

Alone in spirit, Bel drifted through the group of semi-humans, like flotsam floating in the sea. She did her best to avoid anyone she knew could speak Mycenaean, afraid that she’d just blow up if another person asked about her or her siblings’ compatibility.

Bel’s wandering brought her near a pair of old men, withered and bent with age rather than from their ancestry. Walking next to these guys is probably safe, there’s no way they’re going to the Swap to meet women.

They were both short, only coming up to the bottom of Bel’s ribs. The first was covered in a layer of red fur, had pointed ears, and a bushy tail. Bel guessed that he was probably descended from a fox, the same creature that Daran had thought James was related to.

The second man had the same long snout, pointy teeth, and tan hair coloring that she’d seen on Rikja. This caused her to stare at him for a moment too long – the next thing she knew she’d been drawn into a conversation with the pair.

The fox called out to her first. “Oh, hey, I recon you’re that snake-haired lass from behind the blue barrier, aren’tcha?”

Bel wasn’t in the mood to talk, but she couldn’t exactly run away from a pair of old men. “Yup. That’s me.” She tapped herself with a thumb. “Very exotic stranger from the magic land of potential human mates.”

The two old men shared a guffaw and the tan one slapped his companion on the back.

“Told you she looked like a real firebrand, didn’t I Flann?”

“Ah, you did, you did.” The fox gave Bel a shallow bow that she feared would send him toppling into the sand, but he stuck out his tail for balance and managed to remain upright.

“Pleased to meetcha miss. I’m Flynn, fox-kin, and this here is Wrankjan. You can tell from his beady little eyes that he’s descended from a long and venerable line of meerkats.”

“Best burrowers in the Golden Plains, no matter what those ants say,” Wrankjan proclaimed. He chuckled at his own boast, so eager to laugh that he emptied his lungs with the effort. His voice was high pitched and he wore a goofy grin; Bel decided immediately that she liked the pair.

“Call me Jan,” the meerkat added after he’d regained his breath.

Bel couldn’t stay angry around the two of them, despite her initial misgivings – the pair were a special kind of adorable. “You two speak my language so well,” she exclaimed with a broad smile.

“Hehe,” Jan laughed, “we’re rather ancient, you see. It used to be that the people of the plains spoke many languages.”

“We’re a lot more unified now,” Flann continued.

“Supposedly,” Jan rebutted.

“Oh. So everyone doesn’t get along? Daran made it seem like you guys are in such dire straights that you don’t have any choice but to come together.”

“Well…” they both responded, eyeing one another. “Not always,” Flann finished.

“Exactly. One of my great-granddaughters,” Jan began.

“The one with the weird name?” Flann interrupted.

“Yes, Hwyvar. Terrible parents, bad naming sense and they never liked me. Where was I?” The old meerkat pondered for a moment, puffing out his cheeks and clacking his teeth. “Yes, one of my great-granddaughters married a carnivore at the last Swap. Nice fellow, tall, thin, handsome enough, some kind of weasel. Well, we all get along, so that should be okay, right?”

He peered up at Bel, putting in an incredible effort to lift his sagging eyelids enough to make eye contact with her.

“No?” Bel guessed.

“Ha!” they both laughed.

“Of course not,” Jan confirmed. “Oh, they couldn’t say much without causing a big stink, but she certainly wasn’t welcome at the burrow after that. Her parents, like I mentioned, are terrible. That’s why I’m gonna to visit her, to let her know that she’s still got some family to lean on.”

“And I’m just here to make sure that this joker doesn’t end up forgetting where he’s going,” Flann chortled.

“I know damn well where I’m going you old fox!”

“You may know where you mean to go, but can you even where your going? You couldn’t find up if it was tattooed on your forehead!” Flann’s tail wagged with amusement. Bel chuckled at what must have been a long-running joke between the two of them.

“Hey, so would things get better if you found a bunch of humans? Or would they get worse?” Bel asked. She wanted to know if Beth’s constant calls for war were only going to bring misery to everyone. She was still struggling to put her misgivings about Beth’s actions into words.

The two old men looked at one another as they thought about it.

“Well,” the fox began, “I suppose that, in the beginnin’ at least, everyone’d work together to get access.”

Jan nodded. “At first.”

“And then? Let’s say that someone destroyed the Barrier and overthrew the current leaders inside. What happens next?”

Flann smoothed down his whiskers. “Well, for a generation or two I guess everyone just celebrates.”

Jan rubbed his cheeks. “Sounds right. A generation or two. Assuming there are lots of people inside the Blue Wall.”

“And then?”

Flann shrugged. “No real reason to work together anymore, right? No more Great Swap, just go find a human. After that, I suppose someone’ll try to take charge, or get all the humans to join their side, or something.”

Jan nodded. “Then we jus’ repeat and wind up chasin’ our own tails!” He grabbed at Flann’s furry tail yanked it. The fox yelped and smacked his friend’s hand.

“And what if they’re not interested?” Bel wondered aloud. “I mean, I’ve just got some snakes on my head and I had to hide them wherever I went in Satrap. If everyone likes the way that humans look, why would humans be any different? What if they aren’t interesting in having kids with you guys?”

Bel saw their troubled looked and waved her hands frantically. “Ah, no offense. I mean, you guys are great.”

Flann arched his eyebrows. “Oh yeah, miss? You interested?”

“Err…”

Jan laughed and poked his friend in the elbow. “Don’t be teasing the young’un you old curmudgeon.”

The meerkat’s face became more serious. “Now, as to your question… well, why is your brother so okay with it?”

“He’s… well, he’s strange. He isn’t the typical person you’d find in Satrap.”

Flann and Jan exchanged a glance and the old meerkat responded after a moment of thought. “How about your sister? You don’t think she’d be interested in one of the younger lads? Maybe that kangaroo boy?”

“Or maybe a nice, young fox?” Flann added, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No,” Bel responded without a moment of hesitation. “Maybe if they promised her an army – Beth’s biggest goal is to fight against the power in Satrap. She’s not a typical person from Satrap either.”

There was a long pause before Jan responded. “Well, if you people have to choose between us and the Dark Ravager, you’re better off with us. That old beetle would grind us all to dust if it helped him ascend faster.”

Bel quirked her eyebrow. “I thought that your alliance of people were holding him back?”

Flann guffawed and slapped his knee. “Is that what the young’uns think?”

“No, no, we’re no threat to him.” Jan shook his head. “He just doesn’t have any use for us. He’s at the cusp of ascension you see, his Path is at the last threshold before he’ll be pulled from this mortal plane and into the ranks of the gods. You might think that he’d be rushing about stirrin’ up a fuss, but it’s like they say: some gods are patient.”

“Why are his people in Satrap then? Or do you think they’re acting on their own?”

Flann scratched his chin. “Are there any spirits in Satrap? There’s a rumor…”

The two old men exchanged glances and moved a little closer to Bel before the fox continued. “It’s a rumor, but it’s probably true. He uses spirits to speed up his Path advancement somehow.”

Jan scrunched his sagging face, only accentuating his age wrinkles. “It’s bad stuff; it riles up the other spirits and it’s against the will of the gods and the treaty our ancestors signed when they were brought to Olympos.”

“The gods should come down and punish him,” Flann added, some heat entering his voice.

“He should be punished,” Bel said with conviction.

“Aye, but it’s not up to us to tell the gods how to do stuff,” Jan lamented. “We just make sure to keep well away from any spirits that show up here. No cavortin’ with ‘em, no studyin’ ‘em, no breedin’ with ’em. We leave the Ravager alone, he leaves us alone, and we hope he ascends or gets struck down by the gods one day.”

Bel’s blood went cold. “The Dark Ravager – he’s after anyone who’s related to a spirit? Not just actual spirits?”

Jan nodded. “Supposedly he strikes through a person’s blood. It’s too bad, the spirit-kin used to be the most adaptable of us, but now there’re none left.”

“That – that’s really bad,” she mumbled.

I am doomed,” Bel realized.

“Yeah, you’ll be in a bad spot if you have many spirits inside the Blue Wall,” Flann agreed.

“Yeah, that’ll be a problem,” she whispered.

The she put on her best fake smile. “Hey, it was great to meet you two. Thanks for the information. I think that I should go talk to my family about it now, actually.”

The two smiled at her, and Jan held out a hand to shake. “Take care miss! And look us up at the Outpost! I’m sure my great-granddaughter would love to meet someone from inside the Blue Wall!”

Bel gave a tight-lipped smile to the old meerkat as she shook his hand. Then she fled to find Beth.

James… she could talk to James about this, but in matters of life and death Beth would give better advice.

It only took her a moment to find her sister, busily bending more ears to her cause.