Legend of Ransera

Glade 15th, 121. Hahseu, Midden

Krovka stood before Nok expectantly, hands on her hips, eyes boring into his soul. Her fiery expression was unnerving and he stammered, fumbling with the package in his hand. She wrinkled her pointed nose in disgust at his meekness.

“Well?!”, she snapped.

A few tenants pushed past Nok to assist Mord in bringing in his pelts, admiring the fur as they chattered over what they planned to make from them. A younger one flirted with his friend shamelessly, flashing him a bright yellow smile while stroking his acne pocked cheeks. Girls seemed to like Mord despite his low intelligence and doughy looks, a fact that made some petty side of Nok jealous. It was truly baffling, but he didn't expect Krovka's tenants to have much in the way of taste.

“Greetings, Krovka!”, Nok said suddenly. The girl raised an eyebrow.

“It's Kay”, She stressed this name with an edge of irritation. It appeared as though she was one of those Krovkas. An individualist. They were always the most difficult.

“Yes, uh—Kay. I have a package here from Miki, my mother, to, uh, Krovka”.

Kay snatched it out of his hand and inspected it. She weighed it in her hands, gave it a squeeze, and sniffed it deeply. Her eyes widened.

“Oh—this. I'll make sure she gets it. Thanks, I guess”, she said flatly.

“Yes, yes, my pleasure”, Nok said, tipping his hat. It was a gesture that was exchanged between the gentlemen and ladies of his storybook. He had not meant to do it and was a bit put off at himself that he did. A laugh escaped her and he blushed.

“Which one are you?”, she asked.

“I'm Nok”

“Nok?! The magician?!”, her face instantly brightened. “I heard you can change the color of anything? Is that true?”.

He straightened his back, incredibly flattered. It had been a long time since anyone had responded to him in such a way.

“Why yes, yes, it is”, Nok smirked.

“Oooh! Make my hair red! Not bright red or anything, but like—deep red! Brown but still kind of red. Got it?”. Kay pulled off her headscarf and shook out a mane of long, filthy, black hair.

Nok rubbed his hands together, ready to put on a show. “Alright, stand still.”

The boy began to wave his hands in air while saying nonsensical, vaguely arcane sounding words. He focused on red. Deep red, blood red, dried blood. Dyed leather. Shiny. Kay watched with delight as her hair brightened to a vibrant auburn. She squealed and ran her fingers through her new locks, holding it out to inspect the color. It came out much better than Nok had expected and he felt genuinely proud of his work. A few onlookers clapped, just as impressed, adding all the more validation.

“Haha! This is great!”, the girl exclaimed. A devilish smile spread from ear to ear. “Hey, girls, who's plain now?!”

With that she ran back into the house and out of sight. Nok felt something like a snap as his focus was broken. He tried to call out to her but he was drowned out by peals of derisive laughter and mockery. Violent stomping came towards him from the second story and Kay thrust her head out of a window. Her hair had, of course, changed back to its original color when she left his sight, but her cheeks were now stained red with rage and embarrassment. She seemed at a lost for words.

“Useless!”, the girl managed to shriek before slamming the window shutters. Several cats were startled and jumped down from the roof, bumping past Nok as they ran off. He stood motionless in humiliated silence as bystanders snickered and gossiped around him.

Mord approached his friend, his cart now empty. He gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“C'mon, mate. Don't let her get to you. She's mean and don't get how it works."

“I know”, Nok sighed. He looked over to his two siblings. Nik's arms were full of wet, tattered papers, his eyes bright with wonder. Vrig sniffled as she rubbed the fresh cat scratches on her hand.

“I gotta get home, Mord. It was nice seeing you.”

Nok began to walk off, ushering along his brother and sister. The sound of squeaking wheels caught up to him and he found his friend walking beside him.

“Don't be so glum. I'll walk with you. Give the kids a ride. I got time”. Mord gave a sleepy smile and gestured behind him. Before Nok could respond, Nik and Vrig took a running jump into the cart and settled into the back. Nok gave a sheepish laugh and nodded, quietly grateful for Mord's company.

“I suppose that could be arranged”.

Glade 15th, 121. Hahseu, Midden

Nok and Mord caught up as they strolled along the channel and collected Nok's siblings, chatting about their lives. It had been an entire season since they last saw each other, a considerable amount of time for Grackles, especially young ones. They both were finding the obligations of their family ever more demanding, but while Nok regarded it with a growing sense of dread, Mord was far more accepting.

“Her name's Joda. Patches up clothes and fabrics and such for a living. Met her through Mum. Gonna shack up at the end of Searing.”, Mord said. The best way to describe this girl was his betrothed, though marriage was never a formal arrangement for Grackles. His tone about the entire affair was no more enthused than talking about his last meal. Nok listened on with increasing concern.

“Do you even like this girl? Is this what you really want?”, he finally asked.

Mord took a moment to think, “She don't bother me none. Don't see why I shouldn't.”

“Because there's so much more in the world! So much more than just getting on with it...” Nok said this with some disdain. “Getting on with it”—a common phrase said to all Grackles on the cusp of adulthood. It meant settling down, having babies--lots of babies. Monogamy wasn't the only way, just the easiest to manage, but it didn't matter to him if it was one mate or fifty. The entire prospect felt like a waste of his potential.

“Is this because girls don't like you?”, Mord asked.

“What?! No!”, Nok exclaimed. His siblings broke out into raucous laughter and he glared back at them, swiftly raising a hand. They settled down with barely contained giggles.

He sighed, continuing, “No—its just that the world is so much bigger than—than—all of this! Girls, spawn, the same day again and again until something kills you. Have you never wondered what's out there, Mord? I've heard stories of it, from the humans. Even just above us! There are all kinds of things and I want to see them!”

“Like what?”, Mord asked, almost interested.

“Like dragons! Magical places, magical things, people with stories to tell and...”, Nok looked back in the cart. Nik and the rest of his siblings were looking through the papers they had collected from the flood. He reached back and snatched the stack away, much to their displeasure. Shuffling through them, he finally found one with text that was still legible, some kind of newsletter.

“Things like this--”, Nok cleared his throat and read the Common print aloud, “Da Glayde Cot-teel-yon wihl be stahtin' on da firdy-eth and wihl contenyew until da firdy-sebenth. Howse Le-kee-veeyan envytes awl dose uh hye breeden an' aff-floo-ince ta uhtend. Events wiwl enclood--”

“What's a 'cot-teel-yon'?”, Sreek asked. He and the rest of his siblings were leaned forward, listening intently.

“It's like a party”, Nok answered.

“Aw, mate, if you want a party we could just have one down here”, Mord said, patting him on the back.

Nok slapped his own forehead and grumbled, “That's not the point! It's not like any party that we could have!”

“Sounds like a lot of work”, Mord remarked, scratching himself.

If there was one thing Nok didn't like about Mord it was his stubborn incuriousness. This gap between them only seemed to grow wider and he became worried about the future of their friendship. His troubled thoughts grated his nerves, as did the bickering of his siblings, which soon became too much to ignore. Nok whipped around and snapped at Sreek and Skorb, who appeared to be fighting over something they had found in the debris.

“Give me that!”, He roughly pulled the object out of their tiny hands, throwing back the papers in return. He inspected it closely. A small slime core, no bigger than a marble. It shimmered with specks of greenish metal, yielding when squeezed. He dropped it on the ground and it quickly bounced back up. An amusing find.

“This is mine now”, Nok said, catching it midair and slipping it into his pocket.

Sreek and Skorb whinned, “Not fair! Thok and Gronb got to keep theirs!”

“Well, Thok and Gronb aren't fighting about it, are they?”, Nok scanned the faces of his siblings, looking for his two brothers. He squinted and counted heads, and then counted again.

Nik, Vrig, Skreek, Skorb, Fjogik, Gok, Rog, Kibi, Mika, Tobik, Gib, Vroka, Okri, and Zun. They were missing.

“Where are Thok and Gronb?”

The young Grackles looked around at each other and shrugged. One of them answered and pointed a ways off, “They found a bunch of those ball thingies and wouldn't share! They ran off down that channel to play with them.”

Nok groaned and looked over a Mord, who nodded and hefted the cart towards the channel. As they continued down the path, Nok noticed how high the water had risen from the recent rain, nearly cresting over the top of the channel. A swarm of rats bounded on the opposite side, occasionally stopping to lap up the water. That was strange; He had never seen rats drink out of the channel like that before. As he watched, he noticed something different about the dingy water. It was red.

Pins and needles spread over Nok's skin and he burst into a dead sprint. Mord called out for him and tried to keep up, but Nok yelled at him to stay behind. It was stupid to run ahead alone, but such caution was forgotten in his flurry of panic. The blood in the water was thin, but still very fresh. Eventually, he happened upon a boat docked at the side of the channel. Two old Grackles, male and female, looked back at him in surprise.

“Stay there.You don't want to go down this channel”, the old man said gravely. The woman had her head turned away from, as though watching something in the distance.

“I'm looking for my brothers”, Nok strained to catch his breath. At the sound of his voice, a little head poked out from the boat. It was Thok. He struggled to climb out and the old woman helped him. The young Grackle ran towards his older brother, holding his arm. Tears streamed down his face.

“I tried, Nok! I tried! The ball went into the water and Gronb got in. It—something got him! I tried to get him out. I really did, I promise!”

Nok grabbed Thok by the hair and raised his hand to smack him across the face. As he drew it back to strike, he noticed the young boy's arm, the one he had been holding. It was neatly bandaged, but missing at the elbow. He released Thok and he clung to his pant leg, shaking.

The two elderly Grackles watched on with indifference. Nok understood why. It was their lot in life, to live and die by the channels. It had happened before and would happen again, to his own siblings, other Grackles, and perhaps even himself. How much time depended on luck or skill. Gronb had seemed to lack both.

Numb, Nok bent over and picked up Thok, who was almost too old to be carried in such a way. The injuries boy buried his face in his brother's shoulder, clutching his sleeve tightly with his remaining hand.

“I tried...”

Nok took a deep breath and released it slowly.

“I know, Thok. Me too...”

If there was a life beyond the Midden, Nok was intent on finding it. There was something better, there had to be. He would not accept anything less.