The days dragged on slowly from the pressing and tedious lessons from Zeke, but he was impressed how much I applied myself to the lessons. I could read and write basics and I was upset to see it ending. I felt I was learning more in the temple than I had learned in my whole apprenticeship as a blacksmith.
"Jaspen," said Omand catching me on the first step down.
"Aye?"
"If you still want to learn, I can continue teaching you when you are done in the forge in the evenings."
"Really?" I asked feeling my spirit lift a little bit.
"Master Zeke doesn't mind and he believes the best way to learn is to teach as well."
"Thank you- I... I better head home," I said begrudgingly. "I have to be up early tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow!" he called down the stairs after me.
My robe swished over the great obsidian slabs as I rushed home. The night was cool and the air damp with the possibility with the first rain of the season. Thunder crackled in the distance right before the sky let a fury of rain pour from above. I slipped my robe hood up feeling a smile cross my lips. It was as if the sky itself was acknowledging I was returning to my old life and needed to purify me for that purpose.
As I approached my home, I saw my mother and father standing outside our hut looking at a rough piece of parchment nailed to our door. When I got closer, I saw the lettering begin to run off the page.
"Inside now," hissed my mother as she threw the door open.
She pushed me in. I heard the light pluck of the parchment being pulled down as my father came in and barred the door. The look on his face was unreadable and that was unnerved me the most. Why were him and mother acting so strange?
"What's wrong?" I finally asked unable to bare the silence anymore.
My mother quickly glanced at my father who sighed deeply as if it weighed on him heavily.
"Father-"
"Sit at the table. Leanne, bring me something to drink. I thought the tribe was past this kind of behavior."
I sat down scooting the stool over the uneven floorboards. I had never seen either of my parents like this. My mother set the tankards in front of my father shakily. Usually, my father wasn't a heavy drinker.
"Do you understand what racism is, son?" he asked gently and evenly.
I nodded. A month in the temple had taught me to listen twice as much as I spoke.
"There's a group of purists among the tribe that feel... well that believe that Raksheesh are against the God's original plans for the race."
I took the note from my father and read it. The lettering was smudge and because of that, it took me a bit longer to read and understand.
"So these purists are threatening the Raksheesh? How are we even a threat, father? There's only you, Omand and me. I mean there's Bjorn and Ari too, but they are demigods... they would kill anyone who tried."
My father sighed. "I more than likely brought this upon us with my argument with Yulo. It made them think we are getting too bold and they don't like that."
"Did he even give you the money?" asked my mother off subject.
"Yes." he quipped. "The point is, this needs to be taken to the King immediately."
"I can go father," I piped up. "Isn't uncle Hassan back?"
"Thekros-"
"Look at how he is dressed, Leanne. No one would dare touch a Shaman regardless of who they are. I need to stay here to protect you," he said to his wife. "Yes Hassan is back, Jaspen. Find a way to show this letter to the King immediately."
I rolled the parchment and stood.
"Please be careful, Jaspen."
"I will, father," I said tucking the parchment in my right sleeve before heading out. Who would be easier to find- Neo or Hassan?
The rain was falling harder- the sky black and ominous. Maybe Tamille was angry with these purists. The sand made it hard to run as it sucked my sandals into it as if it was trying to trap me, but I pressed on. I would look for Neo out by the oasis first then look for Hassan, Sometimes the older children played for a long while after dark by torchlight.
As I neared, I couldn't hear anything, but the wind and thunder. I let out a sigh of despair. If he wasn't here, I had no other choice but to talk to Hassan.
I began running back towards the tribe being careful to conceal myself as I passed only a few people on my way to Hassan's hut.
"Hassan!" I called as I knocked on his door. Hassan!"
Finally the door flew open. He looked tired and grumpy.
"What can I do for you, Shaman?"
I flipped my hood back.
"Jaspen?" he asked surprised.
"Can he come in?" I asked.
He said nothing as he moved to the side of his doorway letting me in before he locked the door.
"Whats wrong?" he asked right away folding his arms over his chest.
He had an uncanny way of reading my intentions.
"Can you get me in to see the king?"
"Ginfried?" he asked surprised. "For what?"
I slipped the note out of my right sleeve and unrolled it placing it in front of him.
"By the powers of all the gods, we bid farewell to all eyesore of the race. You are marked. Signed the purists," he read out loud. "The purists are gone..."
"Not now. That was on our door tonight."
"I doubt I can get you into the palace tonight."
"But-"
"We can try," he said gruffly. "Come and stay close to me."