Roots | ONC 2024

II : Fall

Breakfast ends, and it's time.

Umirin takes deep, steadying breaths as they get ready, reminding himself constantly that surely, things shall go well.

Shani hadn't said anything untrue when he claimed that they always have so far.

It simply fascinates and horrifies Umirin in equal measure, how everything can change within a single heartbeat.

He goes through the motions, dressing in the designated belted tunic and britches attire, clipping his scruffy brown hair at the back of his head with a bone clasp to keep it from his face, then placing a transparent pearl headband across his forehead, over his black eyes to protect them from dust while digging. Finally, Umirin listlessly pulls his boots on and laces their threads up his shin tightly, his attention hazy while he drifts off into his thoughts.

"Umi," a warm hand lays on his shoulder, and coaxes his attention. He looks up at his husband standing above him, already prepared with the basket strapped to his back. He admires the braid Shani's long honey hued hair has been plaited into for a moment.

"Yeah?" he replies as he busies himself lacing up fully so he doesn't keep Shani waiting.

"Nothing will happen to us. You or me," Shani reassures gently yet again. He grips his spear in his other hand tighter for emphasis.

Umirin just nods mutely, and gets to his feet from the chair in their meal corner. Their spears won't help much but for brief distraction, unfortunately.

He strides across their small hut to the corner just by the bed opposite their eating area to pull his own basket and carved scoop out, strapping the basket around his shoulders on his back and slotting the scoop by the wood handle into a loop on the belt of his hide tunic.

He quite likes these soil gathering attires, wrapped in clean, thick hide as they are, it makes it much harder for a Soulbiter to pierce their skin should it come to a bite.

He'll take any small comforts he can.

Shani watches him finish his preparations with somber eyes, but Umirin finds himself bereft of anything to say. He knows it must be done, he supposes he doesn't have to like it.

Instead of words, he strides to Shani in the middle of the room and pushes up onto his tip-toes to kiss his cheek for comfort. Umirin doesn't want his focus to slip because he's worrying, after all. It-shall be okay. It has to be.

Umirin refuses to entertain any other option.

The line of tension in Shani's shoulders unwinds a little bit at Umirin's gesture and soon after, they head out.

After grabbing his own spear, he steps out of their front door onto their den's landing slab. The house is small, and squat, sitting stop a slate mounted on a thick beam that is buried deep into the earth below.

As far as his eyes can see, there are similar structures popping up above the thick tree boughs beneath. Houses small and somewhat cramped, but such is the sacrifice their ancestors had to make to ensure their buildings were light enough to be structurally sound this high up.

At least the woven safety nets stretched out below them spanning the entirety of their settlement clusters ensure no one who slips and falls off the wooden bridges interconnecting the entirety of the nation will get seriously hurt.

Umirin feels Shani step out onto the landing behind him, feels his arms slide around his middle to embrace him from behind, "Do you think the councilman supervising us this year will be nicer than last year?" he mumbles as he props his chin up on Umirin's shoulder.

Umirin huffs at the mention of last year, even as his body melts in Shani's arms, "I sure hope so, beloved. I'm still upset I was scolded for not bringing up enough soil," he can't help but pout.

The order of hunters and warriors of each cluster is in constant rotation for soil gathering missions, each pair getting a turn per year. Always under the watchful eye of whichever of the twelve ruling councilmen is sent in to oversee each mission.

Yet they are not always equal nor fair in their handling of the situation, and it irks Umirin to no end.

How dare they nitpick when they aren't the ones risking their life and limb venturing down there?

Shani lifts his head and kisses Umirin's cheek, pressing his nose against it to nuzzle for a moment, "She was very rude to you, I agree. Hopefully someone kinder is overlooking us today," he mumbles, "let's go see, yeah?"

Umirin nods, steeling himself. They've all trained for this, from the hunting order. He needs to trust that training more, no matter how hard it may be to do. He never feels good enough, "Of course," he manages a smile for Shani and then steps off the landing onto the bridge leading across to the Temple of Hearts at the center of this settlement cluster.

They'd been lucky enough to move into a house so close to the temple, with only one of these walkways separating them. It made heart "burials" after meals much more convenient.

He walks the bridge, Shani close behind. As Umirin approaches, the building's shadow looms upon him. It is the only grand, tall construction their ancestors dared erect in an attempt to honor the glory of the Divine Beast.

To beg forgiveness, also, if Umirin had to guess.

When he reaches the landing at the entrance of the temple Umirin finally spots the telltale color stained robes of the councilor meeting them just in the doorway. Making dye for coloring anything has become an incredible luxury only reserved for the highest authorities, seeing as how dangerous it is to gather the ingredients neccessary.

And how frivolous. Umirin cannot respect the council sending people to possible death just for some fancy robes.

Be that as it may, he still nods in greeting when he approaches the man. Hm, councilman Bnirin this year. It certainly could have been worse. He knows this man to be fairly patient, at least.

Shani smiles as he steps up next to him, "Blessings, councilor," he happily greets.

Umirin always feels his heart swell with love at Shani's endless enthusiasm.

Councilman Bnirin nods in turn, "Blessings. Do you have everything ready?"

"Of course, councilor," Umirin confirms, tipping his head up a little defiantly.

"Perfect. Let me escort you to the pulley then," the man says and steps forward from the doorway, then makes his way left along the portruding walkway edge of the slate the temple sits on.

As they follow him Umirin can't help but ask, "What is the prediction for this trip?"

He hears councilman Bnirin sigh. Umirin asks this every year, and it has become tiresome by now he imagines, but he doesn't care. When he'd been in training, his mentor neglected to ask it just once before they descended, and it had been her last mistake.

Umirin sometimes still hears the sound of her bones twisting and snapping as the curse took hold of her body right in front of his eyes.

"The scouts have reported one Soulbiter sighting through a grove to the west of your gathering spot two nights ago," Bnirin replies despite his misgivings.

Umirin grimaces. He'd been hoping there would've been none, ideally. He feels his chest grow cold as unease grips him anew.

"Do we know which one it was?" Shani pipes up, a mildly concerned frown bunching up his brow. He takes Umirin's hand and squeezes it gently. It helps a little bit.

The councilor hesitates to answer for a moment too long, and Umirin's heart drops like a stone. He closes his eyes briefly to shelter himself because he knows what the next words out of the man's mouth will be.

"An Elder," Bnirin mutters.