Wayfinder's Journals (2)
#56 of Child of the Sands
An excerpt from the travel journals of Johana Wayfinder, one of the few Americans given undisputed access to Bellosia. On achieving her doctorate, Wayfinder published her journals under the title "Of the Sands and their Serpents," and the collection is widely regarded as the single most cohesive volume on Naga culture outside of their own libraries.
Day 57
The past week is has been a slog of a time, a quagmire of preparations and lectures. Half the time I spent being lectured by those two codgers on everything I should take notes about, and the other half I spent being lectured by translators, Naga who were keen on telling me how to survive the desert's perils. I survived the trip to the capital just fine, but they were insistent that I re-learn everything. The Naga at least meant well by it, and I'll be free of William and Theodore soon enough. I didn't get a chance to talk to Sha'Khapoyin (He tells me that Sha is the correct title for his position. He says it translates loosely to heir.) until just two days before we were to depart; he was quite busy, I'm told, studying the maps, routes, and techniques.
I was quite worried when I learned that we would be traveling alone; just the two of us. No entourage, or guard, or anything, but he assured me we would be fine. I suppose if it were truly dangerous, the queen wouldn't send her child off, but it still gives me a few shivers. We hear so many stories about demons and devils, black magic and nightmares that haunt the sands. I tentatively asked him about some few of the legends, most of which he laughed off. Wind whipped dunes could sound like voices, and misleading sights of water were mirages, caused by the light bending (The Light! Bending?!? He didn't have time to elaborate on this statement, but promised a full explanation once we had properly set out) but he did not put all my fears to rest. One hears a great many stories about one Rikh Ghanyr, but I figured them to be similar to Paul Bunion; perhaps base on a man, once, but long since exaggerated.
At the mere mention of the name, he looked over his shoulder anxiously before slithering closer to whisper. "You cannot speak that name. Not here. Not Now." When I opened my mouth to give him grief, he actually lay his hand on me! He pressed his fingers against my mouth and continued in an anxious, hushed tone. "He does not like being spoken of where he cannot hear. I will tell you of the Ghanyr Rebellions, and the man who led them, but such a story may only be told beneath the desert stars."
He realized quite suddenly then that he was holding both my arm and my mouth... Certainly the most forwards I've ever seen a man get. I looking into his eyes with a soft indignity, and he seemed to remember all at once that I was a woman. He pulled his hands back in a hurry and lowered his head, bashful. "Forgive me, my lady. Ordinarily I'd be braver, but it is unwise to disturb Spirits before a journey." I capitalize the word "Spirits," he lent a special emphasis to it, and I don't know what to make of it. He didn't strike me as superstitious, but it might be more habit than belief. Even back home, people get superstitious about spilled salt and broken mirrors, perhaps this is in that vein, but something in his eyes spoke of real urgency... and in his grip. He has a firm grip, and his scales felt cool, surprisingly soft against me...
Not that it matters. It shouldn't... I suppose many women in my tracks would fantasize about romancing the foreign prince, but I'm lucky enough to even be on this adventure. I hear that the choice of a traveling partner is quite a fuss for young Sha (plural), and I'm still befuddled as to why he chose me, an outsider... I'm told that a Sha usually chooses a... romantic interest, to put it elegantly.
Luckily, he was more than happy to elaborate on that, as he understood my justifiable confusion. I believe him when he says he's eager to know more about our fledgling nation, but there seemed more to it than that, so I pressed, and that led into a discussion about the United States, and why relations with the Naga have never been anything short of frigid.
They apparently had very close ties to many of the Native American tribes close to their territories, and word of American brutality reached them far ahead of everything else. I've actually seen many bipedals in the capital, and that explained it; fleeing America's ever-hungry expansion westward, many believed that life would be easier in the Naga Empire than in the USA. Put in such a frame, them harboring the victims of past rapacity, I should be surprised that they haven't closed their borders off entirely.
He reasoned that if we were so incapable of understanding and respecting the Native American cultures, then they doubted we'd be any more polite to them. He continued that, while he wasn't an expert, he recognized me as an Apache Coyote. A descendant of the Native Americans, come as a researcher wishing to learn, was the first and best chance of improving strained relations, in his eyes. Choosing me as his companion was a diplomatic move, but he seems pleasant enough, and I'm sure we'll be thick as thieves in no time.
Alas, there's only one real task left to do today... I must compose a letter for William to take back to my family. I'm no pup mewling at the teat, but I do know mother will fret.
This just all seems... surreal. I've committed the next several years of my life to traveling with a man I hardly know in a nation far from home where few, if any people outside the capital and border towns know English. Sha'Khapoyin assured me he'd teach me enough of their slithering tongue to get by, but... Well, honestly, I'm getting cold feet. I'm not turning back, wouldn't dream of it, but... I'll be an awfully long way from home. It didn't feel so far, bickering with my professors, sending letters home. Even on the journey to the capital, I still felt connected, but... Sha'Khapoyin and I may go weeks without seeing another soul. I've grown accustomed to the clustered, almost claustrophobic bustle of the city, it'll be a jarring adjustment to make. Ah, but the sun dips low towards the horizon, and the Naga begin their days at sunrise. We set off tomorrow, and I aim to enjoy my last night in a proper bed for as long as I'm allowed!