Izamon

Chapter 3: Izamon

The glaring brightness of the outside world sharply contrasts the dark interior of the pyramid we were in. The Izamons are minding their own business, just like the first time I saw them. It's hard to believe that I'm on a different planet, and not some extended trip to a remote tribal camp.

"What we just came out of, we call the temple," Pandaya explains. "The Queen and the Second stay there, and all conflicts are brought to them to resolve. Come, you should know the rest of the village first."

I make no notion to question Pandaya; I'm fully aware that she could suspend me at any time she wishes (in fact, looking around, it seems like just about anyone could easily single-handedly overpower me), so we head off first towards the largest building to our right. It is made of the same grass and wood as the rest of what I assume to be their huts and houses.

As we walk, I decide to ask, "So… how long have I been out? Izheie said it has been five moons, but I'm not sure what that means."

Pandaya makes a side-glance at me, then looks away. Well then, forget I asked. "A dual moon is equivalent to a day. Five moons is two and a half days," she says. Right. Stupid question.

"That's… a remarkably short amount of time for wounds to heal," I say, noticing the way miniature dirt clouds form and settle on my cloth boots from heavier steps.

Pandaya replies anyways, "Izheie is our best healer. Had it been another, it might've taken ten moons." So, like five days. Like that makes it any more reasonable of a time-frame for two lethal wounds to completely heal.

Pandaya stops. "We're here. This is the healers' building. Go in. They will explain better than I can."

My first impression of the interior is that of the smell of herbs and slightly burnt wood. Over to the side, the people who I have seen chanting in robes the first time I came to this village are tending to the injured. The entirety of the building is a simple, rectangular shape with inscriptions and symbols on parchment hung on the walls. For something called the "healer's building," there are no monitors, IVs, or needles. Everything seems to be done manually, creating a sort of Chinese apothecary's atmosphere.

"Pandaya!" It was Miira, still with her staff and robe. "You finally visited! And," she looks at me, "Hi there, I know we've met before, but I never caught your name?"

Funny. Why bother asking me now? For all she knows, I could still be sent off to be executed or something.

"Lyra. Lyra Sightshade." I reply. The trespasser.

"Oh, interesting name! I'm Miira. I didn't think I'd see you again after your match with Pandaya. I'm glad you're okay," she chirps. Yeah, me neither. "So what brings you two here?"

"The Queen has assigned me to show Lyra around and get her acquainted to stay with us. I decided to show her the healers first," Pandaya says.

"Hey, that sounds fun! Can I join? I have some free time," Miira asks.

Pandaya shrugs, "Won't hold you back."

"Alright!" Miira pulls us to the center of the room. "So, this is the healers' building, where we tend to the wounded. If no one needs healing, we also do other things like prepare for prayer and the more experienced healers also teach the younger Izamons."

"Uh, so, how does healing work exactly? And why wasn't I healed here then?" I ask.

"Oh! Well, I guess the Queen made an exception in your case and asked the Second to heal you." She looks abashed for a second, "You were in pretty bad shape. And, as for the healing, here, I can show you." Miira pulls out a small knife and slices her hand before I can react. Drops of blood start to slowly ooze out.

"Yo, whoa there," I blurt out, startled by the action.

"Don't worry, it's fine. Just watch," she closes her eyes, holding her staff close to her chest and drawing in a breath. A faint, green glow starts to emanate from her hand over where the cut is. Gradually, the wound closes and there is no visible evidence left of it save the few drops of blood that have escaped and dried on her hand.

I gasp out the only coherent sentence I can manage, "How?" Seeing Miira's hand heal so quickly before my eyes, I'm at a lost for words.

Miira makes a light laugh, "It's just a gift from the ancestors I suppose. We can do other things beyond healing as well, like forming barriers protecting the village or individuals, and curing impurities."

Before I can ask any more questions, Pandaya interrupts us, "Let's move on."

"Hehe, Pandaya's right. We should get going before it's too dark. You can always ask more questions later," Miira adds.

For the rest of the day, we walk about the village, with Miira doing most of the talking and Pandaya leading the way. "Here's where so-and-so lives and here's where we stock wood and water," Miira would say. Alternatively, Pandaya would add a few terse sentences like, "The Dir'kins (the wolves, but bigger and fancier) are trained here," or "Watch your step," while Miira explains and I just follow along, wondering if I would ever be graced with the powers of modern technology again.

"And here's where our weapons and clothes are made. Usually, Master Jalbraith overlooks these things, but it seems like he's not here today," Miira says. We have taken a circular route around the village so far, and have now stopped about a third of the way back from the pyramid.

"Sorry, um, who?" I am not familiar with the name.

"Slave-master Jalbraith. He's a slave too but he's one of the elders and we usually just call him Master Jalbraith since the rest of the slaves follow his orders." Miira gestures towards the people in leashes pounding and grinding away at various tools and weapons. I see no females among them.

"Uh, so, all the dudes are slaves?" I ask, incredulous.

"If you mean the males, then yes," Pandaya responds. "It wasn't always this way. Ask Master Jalbraith if you want to know more." Uhh, okay then.

"There's just the training grounds left. Let's go," Pandaya starts walking towards a flat, fenced area.

Following behind, the entire dirt field reminds me of when I had to duel Pandaya. Several people are practicing on straw-filled melee combat training dummies. Others are practicing their aim on bows.

"Now, we will test your ability and determine your fitness for either healer or warrior," Pandaya says. Wait, what? We just got here.

"Wait, er, Pandaya, right? Wait. What do you mean?" I don't like where this is headed.

"All Izamon women are designated a role - healer or warrior - depending on which they are more talented. If you are to be one of us, you must have a role," she explains. "We will now test you in both combat and the healing arts." Oh no. Now I really don't like where this is headed.

"Combat? But I already fought you. You already saw how bad I was!" I desperately try to talk my way out of the situation.

"Pandaya is our best warrior. Your match with her was hardly a fair grounds to determine your ability. Don't worry, you won't be fighting her." Miira calls over one of the villagers at the training dummies, "Hey, Neili! Come here! We need you to test a newcomer!"

Neili comes running over, her tall figure drenched in sweat glistening against the sky's orange background. "Heeeeey, what's this? Did I hear you say newcomer? 'Cuz that's not something an Izamon hears every day." She takes notice of me and grins. "Well hello there. I guess Miira wasn't kidding. Nice to meet ya, Neili's the name."

"Um, Lyra," I reply. Another fit, muscular, warrior-lady. Won't this be fun, Lyra.

"Alright, Lyra. Hey, waittt a minute," she stops. "I know you, you were from that match a while back! Ey, the one with Pandaya!" She examines me closely. "Well, I'm not the type to pry or nothin', but maybe be careful, yeah? You surprised us all what you did back there, and there's really no tellin' what folks are gonna be thinking ya know?" Great. So they hate me already.

"Um, should I leave?" I wonder out loud.

"Hey, hey. Didn't mean to scare you. Most of us are okay folks. And we really won't be harmin' ya," she lowers her voice, "'specially not since the males got to be slaves you know. Besides, it's sorta nice to see a fresh face around here since, ya know, forever. Enough talk. Let's see what ya got."

Pandaya tosses us both swords. Real swords. "Swords first." She moves away and crosses her arms to watch from a distance. Miira hops on the fence to do the same.

"Alright, here I come!" Neili rushes towards me. I had barely picked up my sword.

Unable to react quickly enough, I just shut my eyes, bracing for impact.

"Too slow."

I open my eyes. Neili's sword is an inch away from my face.

"Why don't you try coming at me instead?" she invites.

I sigh, tired of this already. I know I'm going to fail miserably either way.

I run towards Neili, then make an upwards swing. She blocks my attack swiftly and counter-attacks, scratching my left cheek. She missed on purpose.

I continue to attempt to attack Neili for a bit, getting countered badly each time.

"Stop!" Pandaya shouts. I withdraw from Neili, and she does the same to me.

"Axes next." She tosses us two axes. Real weapons again.

After sparring Neili with the axe, we then spar with the knife, then whip, then fists, each time with the same result - Neili is simply much better than me.

Finally, Pandaya tosses two spears at us. "Last weapon."

By this point, I'm terribly out of breath (Neili looks perfectly ready to go another round despite training beforehand as well), but with the promise of being done with the test, I find the motivation to continue sparring.

This time, I make the first move against Neili, jabbing first then shifting to the side just in time to dodge her attack.

"Hey, not bad!" she exclaims. Wow. The first thing I did right this entire time.

As soon as I think that, Neili sweeps me off balance and points her spear to my chest, "You lose."

I sigh and drop my spear. Pandaya and Miira come running back towards us.

"Hey, this was fun, but I think I'm actually gonna go now," Neili says, allowing me to get up from the ground. "You got some synergy with the spear, but ya gotta focus more, kid!" She makes a sort of parting wave and runs off.

"You need training," Pandaya says to me. No shit. That's one way of putting it lightly. "Now, healing next," she continues.

I pant, "Wait. I can't. That's impossible for me." I literally come from a world where magic doesn't exist.

"Aw, don't be so hard on yourself, you don't know if you haven't even tried," Miira reassures me.

I rebut with, "No, seriously. Where I come from, magic like that doesn't exist," but they don't seem to be listening.

"Here, I'll show you how," offers Miira. "Just breathe in, relax, and imagine your wound healing. You should feel the energy deep within your chest. Try it on that cut there," she refers to the cut on my face.

Um, yeah, no. There's just no way, Miira. I want to leave, but instead I sigh. I'll at least try to entertain them I guess.

I close my eyes, drawing in a deep breath. Relax, relax. I recall Miira's words. Feel it deep within your chest. Dark shadows of repressed thoughts that I've long since bottled up and forgotten about swim around the empty spaces within me. I push them away. Heal wound. Heal.

Nothing happens.

I open my eyes. "I give up. I don't think it'll ever happen guys."

"Every warrior should at least know how to heal herself." Pandaya gives me a bowl of murky water. "Try to clear the water. Healing and barriers come later."

I stare at the bowl. What the hell? Clear the water? I resist the urge to dump the bowl onto the ground, the better half of me certain that's not what Pandaya meant by "clear the water."

"How am I supposed to do this?" I ask, frustrated.

"Clear your mind. The water will clear in response," says Miira.

This is ridiculous. Of all the ridiculous things that have happened so far since I got here, this is the most stupid, ridiculous, impossible thing that I have been forced to do. How am I, a muggle peasant, supposed to just whip up some magic on the spot?

I continue to stare at the water; Miira and Pandaya watch eagerly. A minute passes. Then another. Five minutes. Ten.

Just clear the water, Lyra. Clear the water. Simple task. Easy task. Clear. Water. Water. Clear.

The water remains as murky as my soul.

I scream a high-pitched scream internally. God-damnit! Fuck this!

Hands shaking, I summon every ounce of civilization within me to carefully hand Pandaya back the bowl without, say, throwing it as far away from me as humanly possible. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can do this."

Pandaya breathes in slowly; the water clears immediately. "Adjustment might be a bit… rough. I will see to your combat training personally." I can barely look at her face.

"And I can help with your healing arts as well," Miira adds.

"Um, thanks," I mumble. I feel awkward; here are two strangers in front of me who have already done more for me than a good two thirds of the people I've known in my life, and yet they still offer to help me.

"We will start your training tomorrow. Let's head to the campfire for now," Pandaya walks towards the center of the village.

"Yeah, I'm starving!" Miira agrees and follows suit.

I drag behind the two, sulking at my performance from earlier, and begrudging the idea at having to sit with them, and others, for dinner.

I recall all the times I had sat alone during lunches in high school, having given up on finding someone to sit with after one too many "friends" have purposely avoided me. It's all the same, really, year after year. They would tell me one thing to my face and then another behind my back.

I heard from my parents that her father is an alcoholic. Really? I heard that he has a gambling addiction. Ew, I don't want to be around someone with genes like hers. Her grades are always bad, too. Good for nothing. Don't sit with her, your rep's gonna tank…

Even after I went to college, nothing really changed. Everyone always has their schedules - too busy to hang out. Others avoided people like me like the plague, spider senses tingling that there was something off about me. No one wants to hang out with someone who is depressed.

That's why I'd always put my hood on and walked away… Otherwise, I'd smile behind a mask, saving them the burden of knowing the ugliness inside.

But now, as the smell of roasted meat grows stronger, I'm unable to avoid having to sit with others.

I hear excited chatter and commotion. An orange flame glows against the now completely dark sky. We approach the campfire.

Male and female Izamons pass meat and herbs around in bowls and plates, laughing, talking, generally having a good time. I spot Neili across the campfire, making wild hand movements as if telling a crazy story. Some Izamons take notice of us, greeting Pandaya and Miira, who greet them back. I guess they haven't noticed me yet.

Miira climbs onto a rock, and clears her throat. "Ahem, everyone! Can I have your attention please? I have an important announcement to make." My fingers itch towards my hood. I knew this was coming.

It takes a while for the crowd to die down, but Neili shouts louder, "Hey! Attention everyone! Miira has an announcement t' make!"

It grows quiet, and Miira seizes the opportunity to speak, "We have a newcomer who will be joining us from today on. Everyone, meet Lyra!"

All eyes transition to me. I manage a weak smile, and raise my hand in a greeting, dying on the inside. Hushed whispers blow over the crowd. I catch some of their words.

She's the one from the match! She's gonna stay with us? Do you think it'll be okay? She's not an Izamon. She'll never be one of us.

Well, that could've gone better. I want to run far, far away and hide under a rock.

Thankfully, Neili breaks the ice, "Alright everyone, that's that. Let's welcome Lyra and get back to eating."

Miira and Pandaya head towards the meat, grabbing bowls and blending in with the rest of the villagers.

My eyes wander towards the embers of the fire, each tiny dot drifting in the wind upwards into the night sky. There are stars. Just like on Earth. And I can almost believe that for a moment, that I'm on Earth, if it weren't for the two moons in the sky, one slightly overlapping the other. I wonder when it would be safe to leave.

"You're not going to eat, lady?"

Startled, I look besides me. It was a small boy, about 6 years old. "It's good, I love Bir'ka meat!" He offers some of his half-bitten meat.

"Haha, thank you. You're very kind, but I think I'm alright. What's your name?" I can't help but feel touched by his offer.

"Benja!" He exclaims enthusiastically. Huh, the name almost sounds normal.

Benja's blue paintings furrow at the brow, "Are you really gonna stay with us? You don't look like us, but that's okay."

Benja's mom pulls him away from me, "Benja! Don't talk to strangers!" she scolds.

"But she seems nice!" Benja cries.

I feel bad for Benja, and I want to explain to his mother that it wasn't his fault, but they have already moved away.

I sigh. The blue stripes and dots on the Izamons dance amongst the flames. In contrast to their darker tan and generally fit bodies, mine is a clear moonlight-pale, and much smaller. It's true - I don't look like them at all.

I pull my hood over my head and get up to leave. Some of the Izamons notice, but then quickly turn away, pretending not to have seen anything.

I don't blame them. How can I? I silently walk alone on the trail back to the pyramid - ah, temple - the moonlight as my sole guide along the path.

I'm an outsider with vastly contradicting beliefs and attitudes. If the people back on Earth avoided me, how can I possibly expect the Izamons, in their harsher world, to accept me? No, I can't even begin to ask that - especially after they saw me attempt that suicide…

I finally reach the temple, entering its stone walls. Inside, it's pitch black, and I lean against the wall, breathing out a loud sigh of relief. The darkness is soothing. Finally, no one can see me.

"I had a feeling you're back," Izheie walks in, holding something akin to a lantern. "How did you fare today?"

"Fine, haha. Just a bit tired is all," I lie.

"I see. Come, I will show you to your room again," she beckons.

I follow her to the right passageway of the temple. It's hard to believe that I came out of here for the first time just today.

"Um, are you and the Queen the only ones here?" I ask, unable to take any more awkward silences for the day.

"Indeed, we are. You will notice that there are many other rooms here. Those were for the guards, some twenty years ago now," Izheie answers. Twenty? That's my age.

"What happened?" I inquire, sensing there's more history to this.

"Well, long story short, there was a big conflict among the guards which resulted in the Queen throwing all of them out of the temple. Now, of those who frequent here, there's just the Queen, me, the Panther, and you of course." Izheie opens the first door along the passageway, the door to my room.

"Oh, wow. Seems, um, kind of lonely," I say, trying to add something to the conversation.

"Hm, the Queen has her reasons. Now, you must be tired. Here's how to work the lamp in your room should you need to walk about here," she shows me how to light the lamp next to the door. I hadn't even noticed it was there this morning.

"Rest now. I will be at the first door down the hall across from here should you need anything," Izheie starts to leave.

"Wait, um," I struggle to think of how to express my gratitude. It was her, after all, who saved me from life as a slave. "Thank you," I awkwardly manage out.

Izheie stops. She looks as if she were about to say something, but she smiles instead and leaves me to myself in the room.

I flop onto the bed. What a crazy day it's been. What another crazy day. Images of everything that's happened replays in my mind. Training starts tomorrow, huh. I wonder what kind of nightmare that will be. Somehow, I feel like neither Pandaya nor Miira will be an easy teacher.

As drowsiness overcomes me, my last thoughts reflect the last things that happened today. The villagers. The campfire. What Izheie had said about the Queen.

Something doesn't seem right but I'm too tired to catch the inconsistency. Then, it barely hits me.

Twenty years… my age… The Queen… not… a day older... than thirty… five.

But, I'm already asleep.