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Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Ch 4-1, It's Pronounced Cameo

The journey from the Yew Tribe's village to the Stone Tribe's land was not a long one, but traveling the open fields from the edge of the forest to the enormous, walled collection of homes they called 'Newport' was far more time consuming. Gift-of-the-Earth had made the journey may times from his own tribe's village and he was certainly not unprepared for it, but having Metal-Eyes and Roaring-Flood along made the trip a great departure from his usual travel with the many traders from the tribes.

He thought often of the Yew Tribe as they traveled; the destruction caused at their village was like nothing he'd ever seen before. While Theo called it 'barbaric', the bear couldn't see the comparison for a word used to describe The People and what had happened there... nobody from the tribe lands would ever consider something like that-- it was wholly under the auspices of the Stone Tribe's Men of Symbol. Sanmer had said he'd expected nothing less from the Church, which made Gift-of-the-Earth wonder anew how the people of the Stone Tribe could let them coexist... The Men of Symbol were nearly as bad as any of the Undesirable.

The human named Nicholas made the most sense out of all of his traveling companions from the Stone Tribe; he kept quiet, offering only the occasional "It ain't right." or "No reason for what they did."; it was how Gift-of-the-Earth felt, and it made him appreciate the simple, down-to-earth viewpoint of the Wave Rider all the more. He was, at his most base level, very much like Gift-of-the-Earth'_s brother, _Roaring-Flood, who had said essentially the same words a number of different times since the attack.

Unlike Roaring Flood, however, Nicholas was sitting near him by the fire while the big black bear was off in his tent probably working up to the fourth verse of the Story of Spring-- the muffled vulpine cry from within made Gift-of-the-Earth revise his assessment; that sounded like the fifth verse. The human rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "Gawd... don't even wanna think about it... don't even wanna think about it."

Gift-of-the-Earth stood from his spot at the fire and moved a little further away so he could enjoy the quiet of the night. They had set up camp almost beneath the shadow of The Cherished Mother; it was a good place, and well-chosen for a number of reasons. Despite the obvious sacred stone, their camp site was off of the main pathway that the Men of Symbol used in their travel to and from the eastern portion of the Stone Tribe's land. The party had seen a number of their metal-wearing warriors and so it did not take much to convince his traveling companions to take the extra detour to what the bear considered to be the 'proper path'.

Despite the benefit of getting to choose the camp site, not everything went quite as planned. Having never had the boon of traveling with a Shaman, Gift-of-the-Earth had been excited to see the Rite of Greeting as it was performed by a holy man, but Metal-Eyes simply patted the merchant on the shoulder and suggested that he enact it. The brown bear had... without the aid of the Shaman or Roaring-Flood; it seemed almost ironic that the only one keeping him company for the rite had been the small white-furred scholar... though, at least he had been courteous enough to keep his barrage of questions silent until the ritual was at an end.

Of course, that had been hours ago... they had made camp and practically everyone was already asleep. It had been an exhausting day, and it didn't make much sense to still be awake... and yet, Gift-of-the-Earth was... there was too much on his mind for him to sleep.

He was startled by Metal-Eyes' voice beside him, "You seem troubled, Gift-of-the-Earth."

The jeweler turned to regard the old shaman, surprised that the man still had the skill and knowledge to move so silently amidst the tall grass of the plains, "I would like to settle my mind, but every time I focus on one issue the others distract me."

Metal-Eyes made no offer of advice, and no suggestion that might help... instead, he simply gazed northward to the enormous pillar of stone-- the physical manifestation of the divine... The Cherished Mother, and the Shaman finally spoke... but it was not in the language of The People; it was the strange words of the Stone Tribe, and yet Gift-of-the-Earth realized what it was... he was speaking the Rite of Greeting in THEIR language. The old bear had his paws together, head lowered, and he intoned the words.

"Earthen Mother; Cherished Protector; Guardian of the Lands; Watcher of All Children. Your cubs thank you for your guidance. We come and go, but you remain, to stand for us where we may see and know that you will still be here, always."

The Shaman didn't raise his head from its position of supplication for many long moments and Gift-of-the-Earth waited patiently until he did. Only then did the trader ask the question, "You spoke to her in their tongue... why?"

Metal-Eyes smiled, still looking into the distance at the Cherished Mother, "Spirits are beyond the limits or the care of language, my friend... it should not matter how we honor them... only that we do."

Gift-of-the-Earth sighed, adding in as flat a tone as he could manage, "The prayer is not as beautiful in the Stone Tribe's tongue."

The shaman's smile did not diminish, "A prayer is beautiful no matter the language, Gift-of-the-Earth... speaking with spirits has a beauty beyond the words we use."

The trader's dour expression just couldn't manage to hold back the faint smile that crept up onto his lips and he turned to more fully regard the shaman even as the older bear looked to him, "You have come so far since the first time I met you, Julius Blackburn."

Metal-Eyes smiled and clasped wrists with him, the expression slowly fading as he spoke, "This is not about the prayer, is it? Are you afraid returning to the Stone Tribe will change me?"

Gift-of-the-Earth slowly let go of the Shaman's wrist and shook his head, "I KNOW returning will alter you... every time I go into their village I feel changed after coming out. No, Metal-Eyes... I am more upset that we will go into their village and after we leave they will NOT be different."

The Shaman chuckled in a good-natured tone, "We are not going to Newport in an attempt to change anyone, Gift-of-the-Earth... only the Men of Symbol of the Stone Tribe assume to visit a host and expect to move the entire home."

The jeweler's eyes slowly drifted to the small supply tent where they had placed... the reason for their trip. "I know... We are going to Newport for..." his words faltered, unable to figure out the right way to address the subject.

The Shaman finished for him, "Kesst. We are going to Newport for Kesst."

Gift-of-the-Earth sighed, "Kesst is something I... cannot understand, Metal-Eyes."

The older bear smiled, resting a paw on the trader's shoulder, "Do you have to?"

The younger bear paused at the comment, finding it strange beyond words that the student of learning who had joined their tribe decades in the past with the argument that he had to understand everything would suddenly question another bear's need to comprehend something he didn't know. Rather than answer Metal-Eyes' question, Gift-of-the-Earth instead countered it with one of his own, "Can I see?"

The shaman's smile was a patient one, "Come... we shall do something better."

Gift-of-the-Earth followed Metal-Eyes to the storage tent, a broader, shorter structure than the rest. It was made of thick leather, made to keep vermin and small animals out of the group's supplies while they camped. At the Shaman's behest, a bedroll had been set and he had slept there beside the not-a-dragon ever since they had left the tribe lands. Nobody had said a thing... most likely because they were glad it was not their task. As Gift-of-the-Earth followed Metal-Eyes into the tent he stooped down; it was not made to accommodate a fully-standing bear.

The broken husk of what was once thought to be a living dragon remained right where it had been set. Kesst was laying on a blanket, still partially wrapped up in it. Despite the large, gaping hole in the not-a-dragon's chest, it still looked very much like a living being, which was a great testament to whatever craftsman created it. Other than the blank, unstaring, glass-like eyes, the only thing that ruined the illusion was the section of Kesst's sternum that had been broken open where he had been impaled by the tree root.

The break was horribly uneven, not unlike the time he had seen a Yew Tribe archer pierce a ceramic bowl with an arrow... it was a hole, but it looked more like numerous, roughly circular chips had been taken out to create it... and a spider-web of cracks further marred the surreal perfection of the sculpture that was the not-a-dragon's chest. The wreckage that had been Kesst was completely naked save for the blanket, and the bear was unable to miss the fact that the crafter was complete in all details. Metal-Eyes took the edge of the cloth and covered that portion of the not-a-dragon, "The crafter took great care when designing him."

Despite the number of questions that Gift-of-the-Earth wanted to ask about the thing laying before him, he settled on what was probably the least offensive, "You think that Kesst can be... can be... cured?"

Metal-Eyes smiled patiently, "I believe that he can be repaired... yes. There will need to be a lot done to make it happen, but I think he can be fixed."

The jeweler moved a paw to the enormous break in the not-a-dragon's chest, but did not touch it, "....fixed."

"Gift-of-the-Earth... do you have a Soul Stone?"

"I do." The trader looked up from the break and withdrew his paw. Glancing to the Shaman, he reached into his satchel and felt around until he located the hemisphere shaped rock that was warm to the touch. The stone glowed as his paw came into contact with it, providing a faint, whitish light as it emerged from the pack. He deposited it into Metal-Eyes' waiting paw.

The glow remained while the Shaman handled it, but it faded quickly as he placed it on the small leather bag that held the party's collection of dried meat. "You and I both light the stone with the light of the spirits... but neither the leather nor the jerky within it can."

Gift-of-the-Earth smirked, "I am a jeweler, Shaman... I do not need to be reminded how a Soul Stone works."

Metal-Eyes chuckled in response, "Of course... of course..."

The brown bear watched as the Shaman picked up the stone and moved it over to Kesst, "Do you mean to say that the--" but none of the other words made it out of his muzzle as Metal-Eyes left the stone atop the not-a-dragon's forehead... and the light never faded... not even for a moment. Gift-of-the-Earth took a breath, "By the spirits..."

The Shaman took the stone back and held it out to the jeweler, who accepted it mutedly. Metal-Eyes laid a paw on the unmoving not-a-dragon, "Kesst is not alive... he never was... but he is... blessed by the spirits..."

Gift-of-the-Earth blinked, "How can the Stone Tribe do these things? They do not even believe in spirits."

Metal-Eyes was calm and direct in his response, "You do not know how their wagons can move without animals pulling them, and yet you see it happen. You could ride in one without ever understanding what makes them go."

The trader shook his head, "This is different."

The Shaman smiled, "Men in the Stone Tribe spend their whole lives learning about the world... spirit speakers and Shamans spend their whole lives learning about the world. We all see the world differently even though we look at the same thing."

Gift-of-the-Earth looked to Metal-Eyes, "And you see the world both ways?"

The older bear chuckled softly, "There are no 'both ways', Gift-of-the-Earth... the Stone Tribe looks at HOW a tree grows, and we see WHY it grows. There is no wrong and there is no right; they are both pieces of the whole."

The jeweler looked back to Kesst, "So they know HOW to make Kesst alive..."

The Shaman smiled, "And it is our task to find out why the spirits make him so."

Looking at Metal-Eyes' paw on the unmoving not-a-dragon, Gift-of-the-Earth slowly extended his own, placing it on the crafted exterior of the strange object for the first time... then quickly recoiled; Kesst was unmoving, unresponsive, and as far from living as any of the earth's stones... and yet he was still warm... he FELT alive.

The Shaman nodded, "And you are now starting to understand."