Leaving The Tribe

The alcohol had long numbed his tongue and dried up his mouth, making it difficult to speak. Still, Nyell brought an nth cup to his lips and took a sip. He listened to someone's unintelligible babbling as he glanced over the central place where people lay left and right among broken chairs and leftover dishes, dozing off or spouting nonsense to each other. Somehow, they hadn't yet fainted and could still understand whatever their interlocutor was saying. Or maybe they thought they understood and responded with an answer of their own that seemed to make sense. Intoxication did its thing, and people were out of commission, one way or another. It was a messy sight that drew a chuckle out of Nyell. Feasting, bawling their eyes out, and partying all night had taken its toll on everyone. 

Dawn was just around the corner, and people were falling asleep like flies. No one was in any condition to follow what others were doing, much less pay attention to their surroundings. Their minds were elsewhere, and more than a few were snoring their lungs out, sprawled on the mud. 

"Your tribe sure knows how to enjoy a feast," Allen commented, sitting beside Nyell. He scanned the area with a raised eyebrow, visibly amused. Everyone was wasted, even those on guard duties. They drank to their heart's content tonight and let out their frustration and everything else. Many had swollen and red eyes, but their sleeping expression was peaceful. 

"What can I say? We are a rowdy tribe," Nyell shrugged before putting down his beer and standing up, swaying a little on his legs. He might have had one too many. "Alright, we better get going."

Allen cocked an eyebrow but followed along. Nyell had made it clear he had no intention of bidding farewell to anyone before running away like a thief. The time was ripe, and waiting any longer wouldn't do them any good. So, Nyell got ready to leave, regardless of how reluctant he was. Although he refused to show it, leaving the tribe and the world he had always known behind was a stressful prospect. Dangerous hunts didn't make him as anxious, which made him sneer in irony. The White Moon tribe couldn't be more hazardous than manticores and the like, right…? 

Or maybe not. Beasts and monsters were easy to understand, whereas werewolves… It was better not to try too much to comprehend what went through people's minds, lest Nyell wanted a headache.

Putting that aside, Nyell was not only stressed but also a little excited. The White Moon tribe had always been shrouded in mysteries, and all that Nyell had known about them was their asshole of hunters. These guys didn't spread a good image of their tribe, making Nyell utterly disgusted with it for years. However, it seemed like not every one of them was beyond saving. Another common knowledge was that the White Moon tribe was abundant in shamans and perched up a mountain. But according to Lapis, that wasn't all there was, and something called sea bordered the mountain foot on the other side. A vast expanse of water that stretched far into the horizon? It was something Nyell had difficulty believing and was eager to see. He had always yearned for adventures since he was young, and traveling to the White Moon tribe was bound to be the biggest adventure of his life so far. How thrilling was this? It made the adrenaline rush through his veins.

"Do you need something in your hut?"

"No," Nyell shook his head, suddenly brought back down to earth. The only thing he wanted to keep was a necklace his mother gave him on her deathbed, which already hung around his neck. He had no other keepsake to which he was particularly attached. "It's better to travel light in the jungle, anyway."

"Fair enough," Allen nodded his head in approbation. 

Even if they were to bring heavy baggage with them, they probably would have to leave it all behind at one point while fleeing from predators. It was already difficult enough just walking through the dense foliage without bags, never mind running for dear life with luggage. It was also the main reason the Black Moon tribe almost had no exchange with other tribes. It was hard to establish trading routes in these conditions. Clearing paths to create roads only led to the beasts roaming them, fully aware that their prey frequented these trails. Some of these things, like manticores, were smart and knew how to hunt down and ambush. There had been too many occasions in which the hunters had been outsmarted by their prey in the jungle for the Black Moon tribe to underestimate the threats they paused, whatever others said. They were not to be taken lightly.

"Where's Myrven and Layla?" Nyell asked, looking around to find them. He did not ask for the rest of the White Moon tribe's delegation that had come with Lapis, as they had decided to leave first without them. Allen was still very much annoyed that they popped up out of the blue and pushed their ceremony bullcrap on Nyell. He had decided to let his pettiness talk and let them fend off for themselves. Maybe they'd learn their lesson this time.

"Probably already waiting at the rendezvous point. Isa fell asleep a little earlier, and I saw Layla bringing her to your father's hut. She left a few minutes later and disappeared into the jungle." 

"She tucked her in, didn't she? Isa is still such a kid," Nyell chuckled, his eyes soft. He sure was going to miss his sister. "Oh, and I barely caught a glimpse of Myrven's shadows throughout the night, too. I guess he left the feast quite early."

"Yes, he's not very good with this kind of event."

Nyell raised an eyebrow, surprised. However, he didn't probe further and instead gestured at Allen to get moving. Without a regard behind him, he made his way to the jungle's edge.

***

"Are you not even going to say goodbye to your old man?" a chuckle resounded, startling Nyell, who had begun to push the lush vegetation aside to venture into the jungle. "I'm a little hurt."

Nyell felt his whole body stiffen as he glanced over his shoulder at Corriel, who stood a few meters away with his arms folded over his chest. However, there was no anger on his face, not even a hint of it. Instead, there was a look akin to helplessness and indulgence stretching his lips and curving his eyes, which made the guilt in Nyell's guts soar. He could not help but lower his head like a kid caught red-handed doing something stupid. 

"Come here," Corriel sighed, beckoning his son to draw closer. "Let me at least give you a hug before sending you on your way."

Taken aback, Nyell didn't react fast enough. He only came to his senses after Allen nudged him with his elbow, encouraging him to move and hug his father. The guilt made Nyell drag his feet and act more timidly than usual. It didn't matter to Corriel, however. He grabbed his son and bear-hugged him, almost breaking Nyell's ribs in the process. It was hard to breathe in such an embrace, but he didn't complain. How could he? Nyell hugged his father back with as much strength, making Corriel's back crack in passing. Ah, maybe he used a little too much strength. Oh well, it should heal in no time, so it was fine. Thus, instead of releasing his grip, Nyell tightened it.

"If you need anything," Corriel whispered, ignoring the pulsing pain in his lower back and the urge to knock some sense into his son, who had no respect for the middle-aged, "send a message, and I'll help however I can. Wherever you are, know that if you ever get tired, you can always come back home to rest. The tribe will always welcome you with open arms."

Nyell's shoulders trembled. He had been alright until now, so why did he feel tears well up in the corner of his eyes? Saying goodbye to his father, who was also his best friend, hurt much more than he thought. The longest they had been apart was a mere few days when Nyell went on hunting trips. But this time, he'd be gone for much longer. His absence might last for weeks, months, years, or even forever. He didn't know if he would ever step foot on the tribe's ground ever again, and not knowing was hard to bear. But deep down, he had a hunch he'd come back one day.

"Take care of yourself, will you?"

"I could say the same to you," Nyell snorted. "I'm still young; you're not. You have to be more careful than me."

"Ouch, that's harsh."

Soft laughs echoed, and Nyell closed his eyes, taken in his father's warmth for a little longer. With neither wanting to let go, the hug lingered until the sun started to glare down on them. They had to end their hug, which Nyell reluctantly did. Corriel then patted his upper arms before turning his attention to Allen. 

"I'm counting on you to watch over my son. He can be a handful sometimes, but he's an extraordinary young man."

"Don't worry," Allen smiled. "If he doesn't take care of himself, I will do so for him."

Corriel nodded his acknowledgment before taking a few steps back. He glanced over the group one last time, stopping his gaze on Layla. Her bright, round eyes looked back, and the question Corriel wanted to ask stayed on the tip of his tongue. Maybe it was better not to ask, so he refrained from doing it. Some questions were better left unanswered.

"We'll be on our way, then," Nyell coughed, scratching his neck in embarrassment. "Tell Isa I love her, will you?"

"Yes, I will."

That said, the group of three turned on their heels and ventured into the jungle. Corriel watched their backs until they vanished from sight. But even as only the dense vegetation was left, he stayed rooted in place for a long time, with his gaze lost on something only he knew. Watching his son leave the nest was hard, but at least he was in good hands. It was the sole saving grace.

"Hulien," Corriel sighed. "It seems our son is all grown up. What should I do now?"