The Tribes of K'haren - Completed

Chapter 23.2

Tarlequin woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of screams. Within mere moments, he was up on his feet and he ran towards where he thought the screams had come from. But after just a few steps, he stumbled over the guy of a tent, causing him to fall and hit his head hard. Everything went black for a while and when he managed to get back up again, everything was relatively silent but there were many torches lit in an area close to him so he stumbled over there, holding his head in his hands, begging for the pain to go away.

'So what do you want me to do then?' Kran shouted at Nume.

'Not kill them!' she replied equally angry.

'Right, then we'll keep them captive.' He said, looking at a group of soldiers who'd been tied up and blindfolded.

'No. We can't do that, we have no right to!' Nume insisted.

'Then what do you want us to do? If we let them go, they'll tell others where we are.' Kran tried to explain.

'Can't we drop them off somewhere else and leave them there?'

'That won't help either, once they find their way back home, they'll also find their way back here. And it would put their lives at risk.' Tarlequin said, drawing everybody's attention on him.

'Then what do you suggest?' Kran asked, but Tarlequin's head hurt too much for him to think properly, so Kran turned to the crowd surrounding them and repeated his question.

'We've still got some of that potion...' Pmerla said, not taking her eyes off Tarlequin. He swore inside his head, walking into the middle of a brightly lit circle wasn't the best way to stay unnoticed.

'So what?' Kran asked, not even noticing how she stared at Tarlequin.

'So we can give it to them!' Nume finally understood. 'It will make them pass out, right? And that will give us time to leave. This way, nobody has to die or get hurt at all.'

'You want to pay for their freedom by making us flee again?' a faceless voice asked.

'If we have to.' Nume replied.

'She's right, we can't become like those who make us flee.' Tarlequin muttered, rubbing his temple.

There was a short discussion after that, but it was soon settled and Pmerla brought the potion. The whole camp was taken down before the end of the night since everybody in it was used to travelling from one place to another. The few who'd been injured during the fight Tarlequin had missed due to his fall were now loaded on the carts together with Orlisuna. Her children insisted on staying with her so they too ended up on a cart while everybody else made sure they didn't leave anything nor anyone behind.

The tents and other bigger things were packed onto Luthi's back and by sunrise, the potion was forced down the soldiers' throats. Zar'gno stayed behind to make sure they'd all pass out properly while the others left already. Also, Zar'gno was responsible to tell all returning troops where they had to go to find the tribe now that it had moved.

The question of where they were going had been a hot topic for Kran, Nume, Tarlequin and a few others. They wanted to stay somewhere near the middle of K'haren so escapees could still reach them, but they also knew that the armies marching K'haren were dangerous to them. When Nume first suggested going to the Open Wound, nobody agreed with her. But she managed to convince them that it would be an easily defendable place and that the chances for the armies to come looking for them there were rather small. In the end, they all agreed on their new destination, despite it being rather far away.

It could be considered luck as well as misfortune that their path soon led them out of the forest, on the one hand, that made it easier for them to travel on foot and with the carts, but on the other hand, it exposed them. Feyn finally offered to stay up in the air together with some scouts on Luthi's back so they could look for approaching enemies at all times, though they didn't exactly know what they could do if they were indeed attacked again. At least it would help encourage all those in the tribe who weren't aware of the latter.

Another problem they faced was that there were now too many of them to just switch shifts sleeping on the carts so they had to take breaks every night. The first night, many still made an effort at organising somewhat of a camp where they rested, but after just a few uneventful days, everybody felt way too exhausted from the journey itself. Only once the rain returned they built the tents back up, connecting the two to one big tent in which all of them could fit. Well, all except for Luthi and Zar'gno, who'd just returned, stating that all troops had been informed about their new destination.

It was that night in the tent when Nume came up to Tarlequin and handed him his flute. She looked into his eyes and asked him to play for them all to find some comfort. Tarlequin knew that they were all weary and exhausted so he went for quieter songs and even a few lullabies. Most people in the tent soon went quiet and seemed to be asleep, but the children who'd been on the carts all day were still awake and eager to hear more from Tarlequin so he made them all form a small circle around him and tried to think of a story he could tell them.

'The lands of K'haren used to be a peaceful place, back in the days of old. Legends tell of creatures living here that were all different but they were connected through what they believed in. They believed in the same gods. Six gods being reborn over and over again, always somehow finding together, always changing the world to the better. The names of those gods were lost over the years and with the belief going extinct, the sightings ceased. Today, nobody knows where the gods are, some say they are still among us but have forgotten that they are gods in the first place. But back in the day, they were heroes, they'd save K'haren from all evil, no matter the cost.' Tarlequin's voice was calm and soft, he loved reciting this particular story, it was one of his childhood memories, he'd found the story in a book somewhere far away and he'd stolen the book that day because it was the only thing that reminded him of K'haren. For a moment, Tarlequin wondered whether the librarian was still angry with him because of his little crime, but then he sadly realised that the man had probably died a hundred years ago.

As he talked on and on, the children started yawning, but they refused to let him cut the story early. Knowing that the story could be extended for hours and hours, Tarlequin chose to come up with a new ending for it that would please them so he himself could finally go to sleep. Once they finally let him go, he sighed happily. He'd completely forgot about how great it felt to tell a good story to an interested audience, and children had always been the best audience a storyteller could find.

Now the Faun lay on the ground, surrounded by many other people of different origins and all with individual stories. His mind was finally at ease and yet he could not sleep. The rain had finally stopped and Tarlequin decided to give into his craving. He got up, made his way over to Mersha careful not to step onto anybody, took the boy's book and a torch. He sat down just outside the tent, sticking the torch into the ground so it stood on its own. Then he broke a small branch off a nearby bush and turned to the final pages of the book, which were still mostly empty.

The book had never been finished, there was a lot of space left for future entries. Despite it not fitting the story he wanted to tell, it was the best Tarlequin had so he held the branch into the torch, charring it slightly. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before he started writing.

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