Spirits of Alaruk

Chapter 11: Sun and Stars

Terrible visions of serpentine forms, slithering out of the sand, woke Treke that night. Left alone in a small tent at the nomad's camp, she peered up at the glaring moonlight, pouring through an opening at the peak of the tent. The largest moon was merely two days away from its full phase. For some inexplicable reason, it filled her with more dread than ever.

"Klaiune? Something is wrong," she whispered to her ancestral spirit in terror. "The tukran... I think they've invaded my dreams."

"I hear you, child. The surrounding energy is certainly more negative tonight."

"Just like last night... The tukran must be recuperating," Treke mused. "If I keep purging them, will they simply keep coming back each night? As much as I want to help the people here, I can't stay! We have to stop Karrak and Ludaru, and whatever they're trying to do."

"Whatever you feel is best, Treke, I will help you in any way I can."

"Thank you, Ancestor Klaiune. I should wake the others and let them know I need to cleanse the area. I think Taksue will at least appreciate seeing how it's done."

It was still too early for most desert fuglans to be up at this time of night, but Siku was more than likely to be awake, and splitting sleep as two sessions during noon and midnight was typical for forest fuglans like Treke. Still, Treke knew Siku would also be spending her last night with her girlfriend Lasranu before the journey, down near the docks, so she did not want to take that away from her. She decided to leave her friend alone for the time being while she cleansed the area.

Normally Taksue would be sleeping on a cot in the Temple of Nakuka at this time of night, but he had decided to spend the night at the nomad's camp in a tent nearby, which would make finding him a lot easier for Treke.

"Taksue? Taksue, are you awake?" she hissed outside of his tent, trying not to wake anyone else in the camp.

There was a shuffling from inside the tent before Taksue pulled the flap aside. It seemed he was already awake. "Huh? What is it? Is the temple under attack again?"

"No, not quite. I need to cleanse the area from rranha. I thought you might want to join me."

"Really?” Taksue’s ears perked up with interest. “I couldn't sleep too well, but why so early?"

"My magic is strongest at night under a sky of stars. I would do it during the day, but it drains my magic much faster."

"I see... In that case..." Taksue scrambled out of the tent. "Let's go! I want to see how it's done."

Treke smiled at Taksue’s enthusiasm. “Let’s do this outside of the camp, near the pond. I don’t want to accidentally wake anyone.”

“Of course. Say, Treke… I wonder, can anyone become a ruksala?” the lanky desert fuglan asked as they weaved between the nomad’s tents.

Thinking for a moment, Treke wasn’t entirely sure. There were few fuglans who wanted to take up the position in the first place, which meant fewer fuglans to pass down their knowledge. “I believe it depends on if the individual is willing to take on such an enormous responsibility in the first place. It seems Karrak wanted to be a ruksala and was unable to pass his training, but now he is causing egregious damage with his selfish motives. So no, not anyone can become a ruksala, but I believe anyone with noble intentions has potential to become one if they are determined.”

“I want to be able to protect Hulerin if an event like yesterday happens again…”

Treke smiled, glad that Taksue was nothing like Karrak. “That’s quite a noble motive, Taksue. I think you’d make a good ruksala. I’ll teach you what I can, but I’m still fairly new at this. Once this problem with Karrak is resolved, I’m sure Elder Vrenik would be happy to take you in as his pupil and teach you everything.”

“Iatak! I’m excited.”

As they reached the pond, Treke noticed a tiny shape swimming beneath the surface of the water. Curiously, she extended her tail light towards the ripple to get a better look. Enticed by the glow, the shape splashed about and leapt from the water.

“Zizi!” Treke gasped, startled at first. “I wondered where you went,” she said, watching the bug zip through the air and flinging droplets of water. “I suppose I should have remembered you need to stay in water from time to time.”

“You need a portable container to carry water for Zizi,” Taksue suggested. “I could ask Kvati to help get one for you.”

Treke nodded, relieved that the kikri was all right. “I don't want to leave Zizi without water if we're out traveling in the desert.”

“Indeed.” Taksue watched as Zizi alighted on an outstretched finger on Treke’s hand. “So, how does cleansing rranha work?”

“Oh, yes! Let me explain…”

The night sky was clear and glutted with the milky light of stars, perfect for channeling kenha energy. Treke described in detail, the best she could as a novice ruksala, how the cleansing process worked and the relationship between her and her ancestral spirit, Klaiune. As she explained and performed the cleansing ritual, Taksue listened and watched intensely, absorbing Treke’s information until he could no longer contain his excitement.

“That’s it, I’ve decided!” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I want to spirit-bond with Nakuka so I can channel their energy to protect Hulerin!” He paused for a moment, realizing there was still a problem holding him back. “Ah, but how will I speak with them? I still don’t know how.”

It was indeed an obstacle that would be challenging to deal with, but Treke wondered if she could do anything to help. “Perhaps I could reach out to Nakuka…”

“Could you?! I’m determined to make this work somehow.”

“I will do my best. When morning comes and Nakuka is active once more, I will pray to them, however I cannot guarantee anything. It’s up to an unesudrat to decide who they spiritbond with.”

Taksue smiled so brightly that it nearly gave off a heavenly body energy of its own. “Thank you, Treke! You are a good friend.”

Taken aback by that response, Treke returned the smile. “You think of me as a friend?”

“Of course! And I want to help you in return! Is there anything I can do?”

“I cannot think of anything at the moment, but I will keep it in mind. For now, you should try to get some sleep until morning, as we have a bit of a journey ahead of us.”

“I’ll try…” said Taksue quietly, turning back to the camp. “Good night, Treke.”

“Rest well, friend.”

The air was light and fresh again, free of any negative energy, but Treke worried it wouldn’t stay that way for long. There was still some time before sunrise, but she remembered there was a useful spell she had at disposal. Waiting until Taksue was back inside his tent, she decided to consult her ancestral spirit once more.

“Klaiune, is it possible to keep a ward up over the camp all night until morning? Rranha keeps returning and I fear it disturbs the sleep of my friends.”

“A splendid idea, my child. Starlight is plentiful tonight, so it won’t affect kenha consumption much. You won’t be able to do much else while the ward is active, however.”

“That’s fine. As long as it protects the camp while everyone sleeps, I won’t have to worry too much.” Now feeling less anxious about her friends, she returned to her tent to meditate until sunrise.

* * *

Treke didn’t know when she dozed off exactly, but realizing she let her ward down while asleep, she gasped as she startled awake. Checking outside of her tent, she was relieved the sun hadn’t risen yet, but twilight would soon turn to dawn within the hour. Her ward wouldn’t last much longer anyway.

“Klaiune, how long was I asleep?”

“Only a few hours, child.”

With a disappointed sigh, she gathered up her belongings. “Not long, but still… How will I be able to protect everyone like this? I cannot maintain a ward while I sleep.”

“You put too much burden on yourself, Treke. You are only one fuglan.”

“Perhaps,” she mused as she watched a recently awakened Zizi circle around her head before alighting on her collar. “But I still want to do everything I can to help these people.”

She left her tent and quietly left the camping area towards the south edge of the plateau. Looking down at the sleeping city of Hulerin, she couldn’t help but wonder what she could even do. “I think I’ll visit the temple one last time before we depart,” she said quietly to herself.

As stars faded from the twilight dawn, Treke carefully descended the cliffside stairs and navigated the path back to the Temple of Nakuka. By the time she crossed the streets of Hulerin and reached the temple’s entrance, the eastern sky was blazing gold.

Entering the temple, she paused upon seeing Taksue kneeling beside an urn in the inner chamber. “Oh, Taksue. I didn’t know you were already here.”

“Treke? Good morning… I couldn’t sleep, so I came here to pay respects to my clan ancestors one last time before we left.” A solemn look in his eyes told Treke that he was worried for the temple, but a glimmer of hope still lingered.

“I understand.” At first she wondered how on Alaruk Taksue was able to navigate all the way to the temple in the dark without a tail light, but desert fuglans had clever ways to utilize fire to their advantage. “Whose urn does this one belong to you?” she asked, noticing Taksue seemed rather fixated on the urn in front of him.

“Ancestor Sraniak. They are a direct ancestor of mine, and one of the elders that died in the great drought many years ago. Sraniak was also a temple keeper like myself.”

Treke bowed her head in respect. “I can see why taking care of the temple is so important to you now.”

“Yeah. It’s funny how they took care of urns in the temple and now I’m taking care of theirs,” Taksue laughed. “But as I said earlier, I want to be more than just a temple keeper.”

A sudden reminder hit her. “That’s right, I nearly forgot! I was supposed to help you communicate with the spirits!”

“Do we have time?”

“There’s always time.”

Clasping his hands together, Taksue stared desperately at Nakuka’s shrine. “Then please reach out to Nakuka for me, Treke!”

“Of course, my friend.”

“Nakuka, Ancestor of the Naku clan, please heed my call. I am Treke, Ruksula of the Nuek clan. Taksue is a loyal keeper of the temple and wishes to commune with you. Won’t you allow it?”

A glow of inner warmth filled Treke as Nakuka spoke. “Treke… I greet you with concern. Taksue is not ready yet to commune with me. His eagerness is admirable, but unseasoned, and I fear it will cloud his judgment. Instead, I suggest he speak with his ancestor first and learn about his clan. Once he has gained more wisdom, I will allow him to commune with me.”

“I see…” The warmth faded, leaving Treke alone with just Taksue once more.

“What did they say?”

She winced, not wanting to let him down after so much desperation. She had to let him down gently. “Ah… How should I say this?” It seems Nakuka is not ready to speak with you yet, but…”

“But..?”

“But there is still your ancestor, Sraniak. You should try reaching out to them.”

“Kalagala, of course!” He turned back Srianiak’s urn with renewed hope. “I’ve been focusing on Nakuka so much when I had a closer ancestor here the whole time! But I still don’t know how I’m supposed to speak with them…”

“Did you know Sraniak?”

“Sadly, no. They died before I was hatched.”

A ray of sunlight from an eastern facing window slit cast itself on the row of urns on the opposite side. Taksue seemed lost in thought as he stared at the almost ethereal glow.

“Perhaps I should try connecting with them through sharing our passion of taking care of the temple?” He closed his eyes and concentrated. “Hello..? Ancestor Sraniak? It’s your descendant, Taksue…”

Treke gave him some time, allowing him to reach out to his ancestor on his own. Only a few days ago, she too talked with her first spirit, Klaiune. Perhaps speaking with a direct ancestor made it easier to cross the barrier between the living and the spirit world, but it was hard to know for certain with so few ruksula in practice.

“Wait… I hear someone?” Taksue looked around him in confusion, then closed his eyes again. “Is that you, Ancestor Sraniak?”

Treke waited in silence, trusting Taksue would discover for himself how to speak with the spirit. She was still curious what he was hearing and, attuning herself to the spiritual realm, couldn’t help but eavesdrop on them.

“Taksue, my boy! Yes indeed, it is! How wonderful it is to speak with you for the first time. I’m glad to see you are well.”

“Iatak, I can’t believe it!” Taksue’s face lit up with joy once more as he turned to Treke. “I’m speaking with them, Treke! I’m actually speaking with an ancestral spirit!”

“How wonderful,” Treke laughed. “Should I leave you alone for a bit? You must have a lot to talk about between the two of you.”

“Yeah, heh… I guess we do. Thanks, Treke.”

“Of course. I’ll be waiting in the antechamber if you need anything.”

It was such a huge relief to Treke that her new friend Taksue was able to make a breakthrough. Without ancestral spirits, ruksalan, and elders, entire histories and bodies of knowledge could be lost with no one left to tell them. Fuglans passed down their history by word of mouth through stories, songs, and plays, but having access to spirits who experienced events themselves was invaluable.

Back to Stories